#this took me so much longer than i intended but my lip has been bleeding for an hour

[masterfisherer]

doodles for @certified-handler 's Dealer's Choice AU that I devoured and think about a lot. Idk if Moon also has stripes like Sun's vest and i did mimic @feralmoonlightht 's because it's so clean. I do imagine Moon wearing a coat that I didn't draw but thank god for his gloves

I will draw Eclipse I swear but first I gotta get swaws and other memes outta my head because the vibe does not match dawg

[ackerfiction]

Hello, should I request a new canon! Levi x Wife-Princess! Reader - where reader finds a death treath of plans to assassinate her, and she confide her fears to Levi who was shocked, angry and at the same time protective over her, while comforting her that's everything is going to be okay.

You can do what you want, and thank you so much <33

Y/N ruffled through the papers, having bumped into a MP and dropping them all over the floor, she was keen to ensure she had all of her and Levi’s letters. She rifled through, eventually stopping at an envelope with the seal of Marley Officials. She slid the papers out of the envelope, unfolding it carefully. Why was it open? Her eyes widened as she read the words on the page, a gasp escaping her lips.

Jackson,

As you know, Ackerman is our biggest threat. As discussed, the best way to get him out of the field is Y/N. It has been decided that we no longer intend to hold her hostage, but to exterminate her.

Given her position in the Royal Family, we believe it was also significantly weaken Paradisian forces. Meet with our agent tonight, draw the Princess out as discussed. We will have her and bring down the Devils.

-K

“Are you okay?” Levi looked up from his cup, the steam curling in the air. Y/N’s face was pale, hands shaking. He stood, taking the letter from her hands.

His face darkened.

“Levi, what do I…” She swallowed, the lump in her throat too painful to continue.

“You go tonight. You play along.” The look on his face was one of legend, the look of a man enraged by the loss of those he loved. Only seen a handful of times before. It was the look of a man out for blood.

Y/N took a breath, she’d noticed one of the MP’s staring at her all day, shadowing her every move. She kept her hands in her pockets, palms sweaty.

“Hey.” Levi had taken her head in her hands, pressing a small kiss to her lips, “I won’t let anything happen to you. Trust me.” She nodded and his softness melted, “I can’t promise the same to those shits though.”

She played his words over and over in her head, as the MP approached her, a smile and a letter in hand.

“Your Highness.” He bowed, extending his hand with the letter, “I am sorry, I believe I have accidentally picked up one of your envelopes in this mornings mix up.” She steeled herself, Levi was trained for this, and while she wasn’t, he would protect her. He never failed her and he wouldn’t now.

She reached for the letter. The MP grabbed her wrist, pulling her into him. Y/N became alarmingly aware of how empty the hall was. “To the roof.” She felt his breath on her neck, the point of a knife on her back. “Scream and you die. Take one step away and you die.”

She obeyed. Her heart raced, pounding harder with every step. Tears threatening to spill with every person they passed. She forced a smile, nodding politely.

They reached the roof, the MP closing and barring the door behind them. He pushed her towards the edge. She whipped around, where was Levi? He should be here and yet- it hit her. She really was alone. The wind whipped her hair in her face, her legs weak. She prayed he would kill her quickly, was falling or bleeding faster? No. A cut to the neck was. She knew that much. Trust me. She fought to trust Levi, but where was he?

“You.” The MP stepped forward, “You are a catch, I can see why Levi likes you.” He chuckled, “Shame such a pretty body has to go to waste. Such a shame that the Princess would rather jump from the roof than be with her husband.”

“Think again, Dipshit.” A blast of gas, wires reeling in. Before either of them could move, Levi appeared in the air, Y/N felt relief flood her. He landed between the pair, scouts landing either side of the MP. Horror flashed across his features as Levi stepped forward. “Did you really think you would be able to hurt her under my watch?” He asked, “Pathetic.” He glanced back at Y/N, “I think we should send something back in the post, don’t you? A finger maybe.” The MP began to scream as he was dragged off of the roof and down the stairs. Levi turned to Y/N, she ran into his arms, tears of relief flowing.

“I told you.” He pushed her hair out of her face, eyes softening, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“What’s going to happen to him?” She asked, Levi let out a breath.

“Don’t you worry about it. Just know that I will never leave you in danger, I will go to the ends of the earth for you. Nobody will ever hurt you.” He held her for a moment longer. “I promise.”

[sunset-peril]

Had this dude and his scars ping-ponging around in my brain all day, was finally able to draw him!

Behold! The boy :]

It took me significantly longer than I thought it would to make the boy, but he looks so pretty!!!

Although probably about a solid 30 minutes was spend entirely on his dumb nose. I have enough problems with noses in general, and then my silly self decides to come up with a design that has both a snout shape and a human nose (why do I do this to myself...)

As the picture says, Link's native language is Chuffing/Ordonian. In ancient times (Rauru's time), the language is called Ordonian, because the people in the region of old Ordonia are primarily the ones that speak it. It's called Chuffing in AoC/BotW times because it sounds like, well, chuffing. No one is sure how the language name got downgraded to that, but it did. Link bears 5 pairs of puncture wound scars from barbed wire on his upper lip, and two scars slicing up from the corners of his mouth. I'll put the more uncomfy details under the cut, but they were inflicted during his accident at 13. Thank you so much to @skyloftian-nutcase for answering my random question about wires, haha. It stopped my head from spinning.

He's very anxious about Hylians and touch after his accident, understandably, and will lunge/snap his teeth at anything that tries to reach for, grab at, or touch his head in any capacity. Because of the genetic modification they underwent in ancient times to become super-soldiers, Wolfbred have a significantly different system of reproductive behavior that the other races, even the Hylians. I'm not going to go through the Wolfbred Reproductive Physiology lecture because I don't want to, but the strong mating season the Wolfbred have encourages them to bond at young ages, typically around the onset of puberty if conditions and potential mates are good. Link is, of course, unbonded, as the Wolfbred's last remaining female is well... his sister. Having been unbonded for three years, when the typical Wolfbred usually bonds within one or two, Link's definitely got both eyes on the lookout. When he's not busy with his duties as Champion, of course.

ANYWAYS, I've rambled about lore again when this post was supposed to be about the picture. So enjoy the pretty boy :]

~~~~

~~~~

The Wolfbred, at the time of Link's accident, were required to be muzzled while inside Hyrule Castle, and even handled by other soldiers in some regions. The muzzle's mouthpiece is hinged into place by a small piece resembling razor wire (or one of those tiny disposable scalpels), which is supposed to be covered up by the blunt metal of the outer cover. However, the muzzles are often forged to be the appropriate size for a grown (or nearly grown) Wolfbred, due to the greater danger the adults would possess if out of control, which meant that Link's was larger and looser-fitting than it should have been for his smaller size. While he was being observed in the Sanctum, one of the places where he was required to be muzzled and handled, the loose muzzle slipped and exposed the sharp hinge piece on the inner layers, which became caught on the corners of Link's mouth when he moved his head. The shock of having a sudden pain in his mouth made Link subconsciously yank forward towards the King. His handler, on instinct, yanked the chain on the muzzle backwards.

I think you can imagine what happened. That pain made Link yank his now-bleeding head upwards, where he unintentionally engaged a thin strand of barbed wire intended to be used as a last resort against a dangerous Wolfbred, puncturing him there too. It was... not a good day in the Sanctum, to put it mildly.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

It’s Been Too Long

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: Alright Shinobu Community, take a fuckin’ sip babes. It’s kind of a long one. My brain was like, friends to enemies to friends to lovers? To which I replied, this is going to be simultaneously too long and too short. I love me some slow burn but also I can’t justify putting that much time into something like this lol. While writing this I learned that one becomes a Hashira by killing a demon moon OR killing at least fifty demons. I didn't know that before, but I was in too deep to fix things. Y’all are a Kinoe rank that probably should be a Hashira given how much slaying you’ve done, sorry! As far as warnings go, I think we’re good. Unless fighting and misunderstandings aren’t your thing. It’ll all be better in the end though!  Word Count: 15,088 

The estate was dark and bleak. It had rained for nearly a week straight, the patter of water against the solid structure of the tiled roof was a near constant companion to the blank static of despair that clouded everyone’s minds.

Kochou Kanae had died of lethal injuries bequeathed to her by a high ranking demon who had left her to bleed out as the sun made its appearance. Perhaps if it had risen even just a few minutes prior, she could have evaded such a cruel fate.

Shinobu had found her of course, the world is just that cruel, or perhaps kind in giving her sister that closure, to be able to see her one last time before she took her last gurgling breath.

It was appropriate, the rain. After the funeral it was a temporary reminder of the warmth that had been reaped from the estate, never to be felt again in this lifetime. Not that (Y/n), Kanao, Aoi, or the youngest residents of the estate needed a reminder. Shinobu certainly didn’t either.

“Shinobu, you didn’t come to dinner. Please try to eat something.” (Y/n) coaxed, sliding the door open. The only light came from a small lantern inside the swirling gloom of the room, highlighting Shinobu hunched over her desk with her head in her hands. “Shinobu?”

“It’s only been a week.” (Y/n) strained to hear the taut whisper of the girl who had grown to be her closest friend. The girl who had given her a second chance at life when she had nowhere else to go. It hurt to hear her sound so broken. “It feels like time is standing still and going too fast at the same time.”

(Y/n) set the light meal in front of Shinobu and leaned against the desk, the wood creaked slightly as she did so. “I know what you mean. I feel the same.”

It wasn’t the first time they’ve talked like this. To be survivors of such unthinkable atrocities, one could go crazy keeping it all locked inside. The guilt, fear, helplessness... sometimes the memories played on loop night after night, waking up to the screams in their minds making sick harmonies with their own.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Shinobu spoke tentatively after a moment of drizzling static tapping against the roof. She raised herself just enough to wrestle a paper out from under her arms and slid it to (Y/n). “Oyakata-sama has sent me a summons to meet with him and the Hashira. He intends for me to take,” Shinobu’s voice grew tighter and she could not bring herself to finish, instead a painful sounding intake of air was all that was audible.

(Y/n) took the paper, holding it close to her face as she squinted, the dull light of the lantern made the letter a bit difficult to read, but the message was clear.

“He wants you to take her place.” (Y/n) frowned, a pained gleam pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“It’s been too long, but yet, not long enough,” Shinobu’s fists tightened, “I know the world hasn’t stopped spinning, demons haven’t stopped killing, but why do they want to replace her so quickly? Why are they willing to toss her aside? I don’t...”

“Shinobu,”

Shinobu finally looked up at (Y/n), angry and mournful tears tracked down her face, “I’m not my sister, I’m not Hashira material. I can’t fill the hole she left, (Y/n)!”

(Y/n) abandoned her perch on the desk to crouch beside Shinobu, enveloping her in her arms. Shinobu tightly grasped her back, watery gasps and sharp inhales fell from her lips as she tried to gain control of her breathing once more.

“Oyakata-sama knows you aren’t Kanae. You’re strong in your own right, Shinobu. He wouldn’t breach the subject if he didn’t think you could succeed by your own merits.”

“I have to keep the estate in order, the infirmary, the girls... I can’t take all this responsibility—“

“You don’t have to,” (Y/n) cut her off, the words came a bit sharper than she meant them too, “you’re not alone Shinobu. We can all have our own parts to play. You don’t have to shoulder this all by yourself.”

“Thank you.” Shinobu’s voice cracked.

They had stayed up well into the night. They hardly talked, the two young girls sat huddled together, holding each other tightly. No matter how much they’ve been hurt, time continues moving forward. Just because a boat has been shredded against a reef, that doesn’t mean the waves will grant reprieve from their assault. No, one is expected to keep swimming or to swallow the salty brine and drown. The Butterfly Estate’s allotted time for grief had passed. Now they were being given the not so subtle command that it was time to get back to work.

***

“I wish you could come with me.” Shinobu said the next morning as she sat on the engawa to put on her shoes. “Even if they made you wait outside I would feel a bit better.”

“You’ll be okay, we’ll be thinking about you all day and waiting for you to come back home.” (Y/n) assured, resting her hand on Shinobu’s back. She was almost afraid to touch the haori Shinobu now adorned, as if her hand would pass right through the material.

(Y/n) was surprised when she saw Shinobu wearing it instead of her usual short white haori, though she supposed there was comfort in holding this piece of her sister close. Perhaps the butterfly patterned haori could comfort Shinobu where (Y/n) and the others could not.

(Y/n) must have been staring too long because Shinobu leaned away from her hand, catching it with her own before (Y/n) could withdraw it completely. Shinobu squeezed the hand a moment, (Y/n) swore her heart froze upon seeing the ghostly smile painted over Shinobu’s lips.

“You’re right. No point in fretting over it, is there?”

“...Right,” (Y/n) blinked, “yeah. You’re going to do great.” (Y/n) managed a smile in return but she could feel the corner of her lips tremble at the effort. She wasn’t sure why, but this smile Shinobu was sporting sent chills down her spine.

“I’ll be off then,” Shinobu stood, releasing (Y/n)’s hand as she stepped away from the engawa, “Do make sure to keep everything in order while I’m away.”

“Of course!” (Y/n) winced at her own volume and Shinobu exhaled a quiet chuckle before turning away to make her way down the path. (Y/n) watched until the haunting haori could no longer be seen between the wisteria trees.

***

It was rather late when Shinobu returned. (Y/n) had just helped the youngest girls of the estate get ready for bed and was heading to the kitchens to prepare some tea to help her sleep. She had jumped in her skin when she saw the back of the butterfly patterned haori in the dim lantern light. Shinobu turned at the sound and sent a small, tired smile (Y/n)’s way.

“I thought I’d catch you here before you turned in for the night.” Shinobu spoke. “You almost always take a cup of tea to bed. I hope you don’t mind having some of what I’ve already prepared.”

It wasn’t the first time Shinobu caught her going to the kitchen to make tea. Though usually it was much later in the dead of night when nightmares and grief kept sleep at bay. (Y/n) wasn’t sure what kind of leaves or brewing Shinobu did, but her tea always managed to knock (Y/n) out cold into deep, dreamless bliss. Something about the way Shinobu was speaking was rubbing (Y/n) the wrong way however. There was none of the familiar attitude. The bashful bitterness that came with the sweetness of the tea. (Y/n) decided to shake it off and returned Shinobu’s tired smile. It would take time for things to seem normal again.

“You know me too well. Thank you.” (Y/n) graciously took the cup, relishing in the cup’s warmth and the relaxing scent that wafted off of the steam. “How did today go?”

“It was... fine.” Shinobu’s smile faltered and she quickly disguised it by sipping her own tea. “I’m officially a Hashira. Insect Pillar Kochou Shinobu.”

“It has a nice ring to it.” (Y/n) put in after a moment’s consideration hidden behind the guise of her clearing her throat. She didn’t know if a ‘congratulations’ would be what Shinobu would want to hear give the circumstances that led up to her new title.

“And how was holding down the fort?” Shinobu asked. It seemed she wanted to shift the topic of conversation away from herself. Not that (Y/n) could blame her.

“Everything went smoothly. Well, Aoi did get a bit aggravated with Kanao about one of her coin decisions but we worked it out. Sumi, Kiyo and Naho are picking up the recovery training lessons quickly and are doing very well. The Kakushi have been taking great care of the infirmary. All patients were still stable last I checked in.” (Y/n) reported.

“Thank you for keeping up with all of that.”

“I have to pull my weight around here somehow.” (Y/n) replied, hiding a yawn behind one hand.

“It’s getting late. You should get to bed before the tea kicks in any further.” Shinobu said, putting her own cup down.

“Aren’t you getting tired too?”

“I made myself a different brew, actually. I’ve got more work to do.” Shinobu allowed herself a little sly smile at the tiny frown (Y/n) wore as she looked into her own empty cup as if it had betrayed her somehow.

“Well, don’t forget you need to sleep too. Don’t overwork yourself.”

“Goodnight, (Y/n).” Shinobu called over her shoulder. She was already walking out of the kitchen.

“I mean it Shinobu. Promise me you’ll sleep tonight.” (Y/n) gently demanded, slipping into the hall to fall in step beside Shinobu.

“I’ll promise to try. Is that acceptable?” Shinobu asked, a bit of familiar snark came through and it made (Y/n) relax a bit and nod.

“Alright. Goodnight, Shinobu.”

At the end of the hall they broke off in different directions. Shinobu to the lab and (Y/n) to her room.

***

(Y/n) went through most of her morning routine before going out of her way to find the newly appointed Hashira. She hadn’t seen her since they parted last night. (Y/n) groaned inwardly, already assuming she’d find the young scientist still balancing equations and mixing beakers.

(Y/n) adjusted her butterfly hairpin before knocking her knuckles against the door, waiting for a reply.

“Shinobu?” (Y/n) had called out after another knock led to no reply. (Y/n) frowned and slid the door open of her own volition, closing it behind her once she was inside. It didn’t take long for her to find the exhausted girl hunched over an array of papers, dead asleep.

“When I told you to go to sleep last night, I had your own bed in mind, not a desk.” (Y/n) sighed quietly.

(Y/n) startled at another knock at the door.

“Who is it?” She asked, keeping her voice soft as to not disturb Shinobu.

“It’s Hayato, miss.” The muffled voice called. Ah, one of the Kakushi. “Kochou-sama has guests to attend to.”

“Set them up in the garden with tea, please. Kochou-sama will meet them just as soon as she finishes these papers.” (Y/n) said. It would not do to have news of the young master of the estate sleeping so late in the morning, and at her desk no less.

The Kakushi dismissed himself to carry out his orders and (Y/n)’ shoulders relaxed as his footprints faded down the hall. (Y/n) didn’t want to wake Shinobu, but if her presence was required, then the meeting must be important.

“Hey, Shinobu,” (Y/n) called softly, gently shaking Shinobu’s shoulders, “you have guests that need to see you.”

Shinobu managed to curl further into herself, mumbling a few curses under her breath that (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle at.

“Maybe you’d feel better if you had actually gone to bed instead of passing out like this.”

“Who is it, what do they need?” Shinobu grumped, sitting up to stretch her abused spine.

“I’m not sure. A Kakushi came by to tell you about them. I asked him to set them up in the garden with tea.”

“Thank you for taking care of that,” Shinobu rubbed her eyes and stood, her chair scratching against the floor, “I should get going then.”

“Let me fix your hair quick at least.” (Y/n) said, already freeing Shinobu of her own butterfly clip. “Hold still.”

“It’s a little hard when you keep tugging your fingers through my hair.” Shinobu winced.

“Sorry, just a second.” (Y/n) spoke around the butterfly wing that she held between her lips as her fingers worked to gather Shinobu’s hair. Once Shinobu’s hair was neatly clipped back into place, (Y/n) circled her and smoothed out the wrinkles in Shinobu’s clothes the best she could before finally backing away with a satisfied nod.

“Are you done yet?” Shinobu asked, a faint dusting of blush powdered her cheeks.

“Yeah, you still look tired, but at least you look a little more presentable.” (Y/n) said, opening the lab door and ushering Shinobu through it.

“Presentable.” Shinobu scoffed. “Come with me to the garden?”

“I don’t know if that would be appropriate. I’m not sure who is visiting.”

“Just make yourself busy in the blooms. You live here, you can go where you please.”

“Okay, I’ll come.”

The young girls made their way outside, it was warm and sunny, a bit humid as well after all the rain the week before. The sweet smell of the flowers invited deeper breaths to swallow up the scent into every bronchiole of their lungs.

(Y/n) broke off from Shinobu with a little wave, giving a respectful acknowledgment to the people waiting with their tea before busying herself with the flora. Checking on the quality of the plants as Kanae had taught her. The memories spent with the older girl who had taught her so much made (Y/n) shiver despite the warmth of the sun beating down.

(Y/n) would on occasion, discreetly observe the progression of the meeting. The smile Shinobu wore as she spoke to the visitors unnerved her. Even just the way Shinobu was holding herself now, prim and proper, (Y/n) wondered what they could possibly be talking about.

Then the familiar cawing of a crow circling over her head broke (Y/n) from her thoughts. She released her gentle grip over the flower she had stopped to smell and craned her neck to see her crow calling out to her. A mission, her heartbeat picked up in pace. She hadn’t been on one since a few days before Kanae’s death. How out of practice could she be?

“Pardon the noise,” (Y/n) bowed. The meeting had paused in their hushed conversation to observe the bird as well. (Y/n) hardly gave Shinobu a glance as she past. Her fingers trembling slightly as she made her way back inside to retrieve her nichirin blade from her room. (Y/n)’s mind buzzed and her crow’s caws sounded muted and muffled, far away. She kept walking, willing her breaths to remain controlled. Her concentration broke as a hand reached out from behind her and tugged her back.

(Y/n) turned to meet Shinobu’s eyes. Though more subdued, the concern she saw there was genuine.

“(Y/n), I kept telling you to stop. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m sorry, I guess I was just focusing on the mission ahead.”

Shinobu breathed deeply releasing the air in a shaky exhale before gripping (Y/n)’s face in one hand, surprising her.

“No you weren’t.” Shinobu’s grip was firm, “You need to concentrate on your surroundings. I was almost yelling at you just now. I need to know you are going to be able to keep your head about you out there.”

(Y/n) tried to nod her head but Shinobu’s hand kept her head in place.

“I need to hear you say it.” Shinobu said.

“I can keep my head. I will.” (Y/n) swallowed uncomfortably.

Shinobu searched (Y/n)’s face, slowly releasing her grip from (Y/n)‘s jaw and instead grabbed at the neck of (Y/n)’s uniform pulling her so close their noses bumped.

“You better,” She spoke softly.

“I will,” (Y/n) repeated.

Shinobu untensed, her fingers released (Y/n)’s uniform and she wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug that (Y/n) quickly reciprocated.

“Your meeting,” (Y/n) recalled after a moment.

“I asked to be excused. I’m the master of the estate, I can get away with escaping for for a few minutes.”

“I wouldn’t make a habit out of it if I were you.” (Y/n) attempted to joke.

“Only when it matters.” Shinobu nodded seriously, causing (Y/n)’s heart to leap.

(Y/n)’s crow cawed impatiently and the girls parted. (Y/n) left to retrieve her blade and Shinobu watched her back as she left, her hands clenched into tight fists beneath the sleeves of her sister’s haori.

***

Night after night, the missions kept coming. (Y/n) had begun to wonder if she’d ever get to go home again as days became weeks. Scattered letters between waves of demon slaying were the best she could manage to make sure everyone back home knew she was alright.

Another night, a new moon. A few more nights and it would be a full month since she’d last seen everyone. She was glad she took the time to say goodbye before she left. She never imagined she’d be asked to work for so long without reprieve.

Another well timed flower breathing technique beheads another demon and (Y/n) falls against the trunk of a tree breathing hard. She is uninjured but greatly fatigued. The thought to sit and rest hardly enters her mind before her crow commands her eastward to eliminate another threat before dawn.

Breath after breath, technique after technique, night after night (Y/n) fought until everything ached and beyond. When she saw the the sun peak out over the horizon it was almost enough to bring (Y/n) to tears, but she never faltered. She had to stay strong. This was the life she chose to pursue. To save people from the same fate that befallen so many people she had cared about.

It was during an exceptionally hot day when the sun was at its highest point that (Y/n) flinched awake at the shrill squawks she had grown to loathe.

“What?” She hissed between her teeth, her fingers knotting in the grass that had served as her bed for the day.

“Return home to the Butterfly Estate! Return home to recover and rest! Await further instruction!”

(Y/n) lifted herself to rest on her elbows to stare wide-eyed at the bird sitting in the tree branch overhead. For the first time in that very long month, she allowed the tears to finally fall.

***

(Y/n) felt nervous coming back after so long. She opted to return from the rear entrance in an attempt to not garner too much attention. She allowed herself a tentative smile as the gardens came into view. Her fingers skimmed across the colorful blooms as she walked, freezing up only when she saw Shinobu collecting herbs in the distance. Her foot snapped a twig, alerting Shinobu to glance behind her.

“Hi, stranger.” Shinobu simpered, getting to her feet. “Oh!”

(Y/n) forgot all her previous worries and jogged up to Shinobu, picking her up with the added strength that she had built up in her month long absence and twirled her around with abandon.

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu chuckled with surprise, bracing her arms around (Y/n)‘s shoulders as she was flung around.

“I missed you!” (Y/n) sniffled, finally putting the girl down but still holding her tightly.

“I missed you too.” Shinobu said, rubbing (Y/n)’s back. “What took so long getting back, hm?”

“Mission after mission after mission.” came (Y/n)’s bitter reply. “I actually cried when my crow told me I could come home... I don’t know why I told you that. That’s embarrassing.”

Shinobu laughed, pulling back from (Y/n) to get a good look at her. “My, (Y/n), I can tell your time away had made you stronger. Even if you are still a bit of a crybaby.”

“Hey!” (Y/n) pouted.

“(Y/n) is back!”

“Woah!”

(Y/n) was sent stumbling backward a few steps by three blurs of white. Naho, Sumi and Kiyo spoke a mile a minute filling in (Y/n) on all the goings on of the estate. Aoi and Kanao came by soon after and gave (Y/n) their own greetings, expressing their happiness over the slayer’s return in their own ways.

It was good to be home, it was. But after a few days, (Y/n) really got a chance to see how different Shinobu had become.

The tone of her voice carried like a soft breeze and a polite smile could always be seen on her lips. Aoi reminded (Y/n) more of the Shinobu she remembered than the current Shinobu before her. It unnerved her. The way Shinobu would tilt her head just so and giggle daintily into her hand... it was like staring at a ghost.

(Y/n) thought she could get over the change, but she simply couldn’t. Not when staring into those dark, purple eyes. Oh, how they swirled with anger and despair. If Shinobu couldn’t fully believe in the persona she had crafted for herself, then (Y/n) wouldn’t either. Late one night while helping Shinobu in the lab, (Y/n) finally decided to confront her.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?” (Y/n) frowned, worrying the page of the textbook before her between her fingers.

“Hm? I’m afraid I don’t quite know what you mean.” Shinobu replied casually, smile still firmly in place as she crushed some herbs under her pestle.

“You do too know what I mean,” (Y/n) eyebrows furrowed slightly in aggravation, “why do you keep smiling like you’re okay when you’re clearly not?”

“What have I said or done that makes you think I’m not okay? I’m perfectly fine, (Y/n),” she chuckled, “you worry for nothing.”

“That mask might have everyone else fooled... or maybe they’re just complacent, but I’m tired of pretending nothing is wrong. Talk to me, Shinobu.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shinobu shook her head, “there is nothing to discuss. Perhaps I’ve kept you up too late.”

“You shouldn’t have to hide what you’re truly feeling,” (Y/n) persisted, “not from me at least. I thought we were friends.”

“We are.” Shinobu’s tone was nearly clipped as she crushed the herbs a bit more vigorously.

“Then stop acting so, so fake!” (Y/n) spat, wincing almost immediately as fast has the words came out. There was probably a better way she could have said that. Before she could apologize and try again, Shinobu put the pestle on the table with a harsh clink and stalked over to where (Y/n) was sitting. Fighting to keep her tone in check, she stared (Y/n) down with that plastic smile and spoke in a low, hushed tone that filled (Y/n)’s veins with ice.

“So I’m fake, is that right? People change, (Y/n). You were gone for a month, you can’t expect everyone to wait for you, to not change or grow in your absence.”

“People change, yes,” (Y/n) swallowed tightly at the proximity, “but whatever this is Shinobu, I really don’t think it’s healthy. I can tell you’re bottling something up. Kanae—”

“Leave.”

“...what?”

“Leave,” Shinobu closes the textbook in front of (Y/n) and although she does so with care, the sound is deafening in (Y/n)’s ears, “I don’t care where you go, just get out of my lab. I’ve had my fill of this mindless chatter.”

“Are you being serious right now?” (Y/n) clenched her fists and stood from her chair, the legs slid roughly against the wood below.

“Yes, I don’t have time for immature children right now I’m afraid.” Came Shinobu’s airy reply.

“Immature— stop acting like you know better than me, we’re both kids, we’re fourteen!“ (Y/n) seethes, “I’m worried about you! I care about you! Don’t you get it?”

“Your worry is unfounded. It’s late and you are being of no help to me like this so I’ll ask you once more, leave.”

(Y/n) felt heat pricking the corners of her eyes. “I feel like I don’t know who you are anymore.” She breathed. “But fine, I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”

“At this moment in time, I couldn’t ask for anything better.” Shinobu replied, turning her back to (Y/n) to continue what she had previously been working on.

Once (Y/n) shut the door with finality and her quick footsteps became softer as she ran down the hall, Shinobu exhaled harshly, gripping the pestle tightly in her hand as she mercilessly pounded the dried herbs into dust.

“Only immature people don’t control their emotions... only immature people...”

As Shinobu repeated her mantra, (Y/n) burst into her room and looked around her. With trembling hands she changed into a fresh uniform and packed a small bag of belongings and slinging it over her shoulder. She grabbed her haori and attached her nichirin blade to her hip.

She looked around the room once more and caught her reflection in the little hand mirror on her desk, catching the bright colors of a wing that secured her hair in place. She reached back, freeing her hair from the clip and stared at it. She ran her thumb over the decorative clip before setting it on the desk. She reached for a plain hair band and tied her hair back with that instead.

(Y/n) left her room, sparing one last hurt glance at the butterfly clip before exiting the estate grounds. Before long, her crow circled overhead and (Y/n) held her arm out for the bird to take perch. The crow cawed at her expectantly, questioning her.

“If she wants me to leave, then what else is there to do?” (Y/n) shuddered in the wind. She turned away from the estate, willing herself not to turn back.

“Where will you go?” The crow asked.

“...I don’t know.”

With every step leaving the warmth of the estate farther behind, (Y/n)’s heart grew heavier in her chest.

***

“Have any of you seen (Y/n) today?” Shinobu asked the girls once they had come back in after hanging the laundry out to dry.

A chorus of negatives and head shakes met her and she sighed inwardly. “Very well then. Thank you.”

Shinobu traveled through the maze of hallways that made up her home, easily finding herself in front of (Y/n)’s door, knocking politely. With no reply, Shinobu forced herself not to roll her eyes and opened the door.

“(Y/n), if this is about last night...” Shinobu blinked at the empty room. Futon made, clean floors, not a thing out of place, but no (Y/n).

“Perhaps she’s out training.” Shinobu said to herself. She was about to close the door and head off into the gardens when a glint from the desk caught her eye and she approached. A soft gasp left her lips as she picked up the hairpin. Cradling it in her hands, Shinobu forced her breaths to remain controlled. (Y/n) had never gone a day without wearing the pin since the Kochou sisters gifted it to her.

In the safety of the empty room, Shinobu allowed herself to slump over the desk. She held the discarded hairpin close to her chest, immediately understanding what this small symbol meant. Yes, she knew what it meant, she just wished to know why. She fought against the waves, against the feeling that she was drowning again.

***

Four years was a long time, and if you asked (Y/n), the demon slayer would say that was especially true with her line of work. The demons were never the same, but the routine in between was lonely and dull. Kill a demon, settle down at an inn or in the trees for the day, move to the next village and repeat. Sometimes the stays were longer, but that was the gist of it.

(Y/n) kept to herself most of the time. There wasn’t really a point in making anything more than loose acquaintances with the constant traveling and dangers her work presented. Even on the few missions she had been paired up with other slayers in the area, she focused on the job at hand before quickly making her way to her next assignment. That started to change after she met Kamado Tanjirou and his demon sister Nezuko.

They did not get off on the right foot to say the least.

(Y/n) had been sent to the same location as the young slayer for a mission and knew something was off about him right away. Something off with that box he carried around anyway. (Y/n) opted to let him be for the time being, focusing on the mission ahead. Skip forward to the heat of battle, and (Y/n) could hardly believe her eyes when a demon burst from the boy’s box to attack another demon that had snuck around Tanjirou’s back.

(Y/n) had no time to watch and focus on this new development at the moment, she had her own demons to take care of. Her flower breathing techniques weaved through her enemies and heads went flying. Before long, the mission was completed and (Y/n) turned to the boy breathing heavily in the dirt with the demon from the box hovering over him looking at (Y/n) with curious eyes.

“You’re really skilled, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou praised, somehow unaware of the danger his sister was in, “You don’t even look like you’re out of breath.”

“I’ve been doing this for years. I know a lot. For instance,” (Y/n) spoke, her face stern as stone as she readied her blade, startling Tanjirou, “every demon must be destroyed.” She went in with a quick slash aimed at the demon’s neck  only to pause at the last second when the foolish younger boy leapt to his feet to shield the demon from the blow.

“What are you doing?” (Y/n) asked sternly.

“Wait, she’s my sister! She’s a good demon!”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you that what you are doing is against corps rules. I can sympathize with wanting to hold onto your loved ones, but there is no such thing as a good demon. Step aside.”

“No, Nezuko has never eaten a human and she never will!” Tanjirou held his ground while his sister growled at (Y/n) from behind him.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “Alright then,” she said with a sarcastic sweetness, “prove it.”

“What?” Tanjirou blinked.

“Prove it, take off the muzzle. Let’s see if she has as much control as you claim she does.”

“But—“

“It shouldn’t be a problem, right? If she’s as docile as you claim what’s the issue?”

Tanjirou grit his teeth and gently pulled the muzzle to rest around his sister’s neck. (Y/n) stepped forward, her face inches away from the demon. She wasn’t worried, if the demon lunged for her she was confident she could slice its head the moment the air changed.

“Well demon?” (Y/n) sighed, surprising Tanjirou by slicing the pad of her thumb on her sharp blade, “hungry?”

To Nezuko’s credit, she hardly flinched. However, her eyes followed the path of the blood and a small trickle of drool slid past her lips. (Y/n) taunted her a bit further, waving the bloodied hand in front of her nose, still Nezuko held strong and even went as far as turning away.

“...I must say, I’m rather impressed,” (Y/n) finally spoke, stepping back from the demon and licking at her own wound, “marechi blood such as my own usually makes the demons go crazy,” she turns back to Tanjirou, “still, you must know that keeping a demon alive like this, especially as a slayer, is dangerous for both of you.”

“I know,” Tanjirou bowed his head.

“Well,” (Y/n) stretched and sighed, “as long as you know I guess it’s your own problem.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, just don’t call me out if a Hashira finds you out. I don’t feel like dying a disgrace.” (Y/n) waved him off. “You’re going to have to work even harder and be more discreet. That’s my advice to you.” And (Y/n) was going to leave it at that and walk away, but then her crow chanted in tandem with Tanjirou’s, calling them to continue forward together. (Y/n)′s eye twiched at the grating sounds.

“It looks like we’ll still be working together for some time, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou smiled, catching the older girl off guard by the sincerity behind it. You’d think he’d be more put off considering (Y/n) was planning to kill his sister not five minutes ago.

“I suppose we are.”

“Say, (Y/n)-san, you’re strong. You can help me get stronger too, right?”

“Mm!”

“Hey, get her off of me!” (Y/n) momentarily panicked as the demon wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Nezuko, manners!”

(Y/n) wasn’t sure what she had done to get saddled with the strange siblings, but she could tell her job just went above her pay grade.

***

As it turns out, the Kamado siblings weren’t so bad. In fact, (Y/n) was starting to get really attached to the two. It was when Inosuke and Zenitsu were pulled into their little group, that was when (Y/n) realized she didn’t know what true pain was.

“(Y/n)-san, marry me!”

“Flower Girl, fight me!”

All damn day and night.

(Y/n) thought she’d finally have reprieve once Tanjirou had healed up at the Wisteria House, but of course the two boisterous boys were being sent with them to their next mission, Natagumo Mountain.

Zenitsu cowered at the forest edge and (Y/n) felt no remorse in leaving him behind as she sprinted ahead of Inosuke and Tanjirou, freeing the puppeted Mizunoto slayers.

Eventually they had been split off from each other to fight their own battles. (Y/n) was tired but otherwise unharmed, surprised when a small Nezuko came barreling into her.

“Nezu—?” (Y/n) gasped as the air shifted above her and she dodged the quick swipe aimed at the tiny body that clung to her. She quickly pivoted, blade in hand, and crossed swords with the assailant her eyes blowing wide at the placid face in front of her.

“Kanao?!” (Y/n) yelled out, the nostalgia and adrenaline coursing through her body was an odd, slightly terrifying combination.

Kanao tilted her head, her lips parted ever so slightly as recognition gleamed in her eyes. Despite this, Kanao did have a mission to complete and (Y/n) was keeping her from completing her orders. She continued swiping at the older girl she used to know, trying to behead the demon she could not fathom why she was protecting.

(Y/n) parried and blocked best she could, taking a defensive approach while she tried to talk Kanao down. She didn’t want to hurt Kanao, but she didn’t want Nezuko to be killed either.

Finally a saving grace, a crow swooping by with a message that saved Nezuko’s neck. (Y/n) sighed in relief as Kanao pulled back. Still looking at (Y/n) she pointed to the small demon that had wrapped herself tightly over (Y/n)’s back.

“Is this Nezuko?” She asked looking for a positive ID on the demon in question.

“Yes.” (Y/n) easily replied.

“Come with me then.” Kanao said, already corralling (Y/n) and her demon backpack in the direction of the forest edge.

(Y/n) walked alongside her a bit begrudgingly. If she made a break for it, she could have probably gotten away, but it was very likely Tanjirou and the others were already in custody. The best chance they had now was to do as they were told and hope Nezuko’s resolve would stand firm.

So (Y/n) hid Nezuko in her haori as the sun began to peak over the hills and followed Kanao to the clearing of bustling Kakushi. On the way, she began preparing her story for the trial she was sure her little team was bound to endure.

She was immediately broken from her thoughts at the ethereal sight of the Insect Pillar emerging from another point of the woods with the Water Pillar and a badly beaten Tanjirou on his back.

(Y/n)’s breath caught in her throat as those deep, dark eyes found hers at it was like time was at a stand still. At least it would have been if not for Shinobu steadily making her way towards her, her expression painfully impassive beyond the small upturn of her lips. Shinobu kept coming until she was directly in front of (Y/n).

Nezuko stirred in her sleep, clutching at (Y/n)’s back as if she could sense anxiety in the slayer’s heart. The demon was the only thing grounding her at this point as Shinobu tilted her head, an almost sinister look in her eye as she observed the small demon bundle protected by (Y/n)’s haori. All too soon, her cold eyes found their way back to (Y/n)’s and she spoke.

“I’m not going to have to tie you up, am I?”

(Y/n) closed her eyes briefly and tried to take a calming breath. With a short, almost imperceivable shake of her head, she hoarsely replied.

“No.”

“Let’s try to keep it that way then.”

Shinobu and Kanao had let (Y/n) help Nezuko into her box, but then they immediately separated the two, having a Kakushi carry the box with a wary look in her eyes. (Y/n) did her best not to look behind her where Kanao and Shinobu walked, no doubt watching her for any sign of flight.

She gulped, eyes nervously shifting to the Water Pillar walking beside her, and the Kakushi who was now carrying Tanjirou in his stead. The Water Pillar spared her an emotionless glance as he forged ahead.

“Is he going to be alright?” She asked in a hushed tone.

Enough time had passed after her question that (Y/n) had figured the man wasn’t in the mood to talk, understandably so, but (Y/n) was worried about the state Tanjirou was in. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he actually answered her minutes later.

“That will all depend on how the trial goes.”

(Y/n) felt dread pool in her stomach as they continued to march down the mountain.

***

The garden of the Master’s estate would have been lovely on any other occasion, but (Y/n) could only bring herself to stare at the pebbles below her knees and Tanjirou passed out at her side. They had taken Nezuko somewhere else in the meantime, she could only hope they would let the demon be, let her prove herself in front of them instead of killing her on principle.

(Y/n) could feel that Shinobu was standing just behind her but she dared not engage. Four years of silence between the two and a trial for treason in the highest regard had brought them together again. (Y/n) wanted to scream.

Finally Tanjirou began to stir and (Y/n) allowed herself to push away her turmoil to rouse the younger boy gently. The last thing they needed was for him to be all up in arms before the trial even officially began.

“(Y/n)-san,” Tanjirou winced, “where are we? Where is Nezuko?”

“We’re at the Demon Slayer Headquarters,” (Y/n) replied, her voice was hardly above a whisper as she felt the pressure of all the Hashira’s eyes boring into them, “I don’t know where they’re keeping Nezuko, but right now you need to focus on the trial ahead.”

“The trial?”

“For harboring a demon, Tanjirou.”

“I wouldn’t bother trying to justify it! A crime as heinous as yours only ends one way!” Rengoku Kyojirou loudly proclaimed, rallying a range of replies from his fellow pillars.

“Now that he’s finally awake to witness his punishment, let’s behead these traitors and the demon and get on with our lives.” Uzui Tengen added.

“Please,” (Y/n) forced her voice not to waiver, “allow him to explain the situation at least—“

“You’re in no position to be asking for favors, girl.” Obanai Iguro cut her off, glaring down at her from where he lounged on a tree branch. “You had best hold your tongue. A slayer at your rank should be ashamed. I’m surprised you haven’t already sliced yourself open for the embarrassment you’ve brought to the corps.”

“Iguro-san!” Kanroji gasped at the harsh words.

“Who are these people, (Y/n)-san?” Tanjirou groaned, noticing for the first time that his hands were tied tightly behind his back.

“Tanjirou, are you serious?” (Y/n)’s tone was hushed and urgent, “they’re the Hashira! You know, best of the demon slayers?”

“I don’t know, umph!” (Y/n) hastily covered his mouth, a nervous sweat gathered at her brow.

“Just try to be respectful, will you? You already broke the thin ice you’ve been traveling on, let’s try not to drown as well!”

“This isn’t right, (Y/n)-san! Where is Nezuko? Zenitsu? Inosuke? Murata?” Tanjirou spoke out, his voice heavy with emotion as he fought his way up to his knees.

“What I want to know is why we haven’t tied Tomioka or the Kinoe ranked slayer.” Obanai sneered from his tree, ignoring Tanjirou’s desperate tone. “They are both part of the boy’s schemes and should be punished as such. How are we going to teach them a lesson?”

“Oh they’ll be fine,” (Y/n) shivered hearing Shinobu speak above her from where she knelt in the pebbles, “we’ll come up with a penalty later.”

(Y/n) froze, her eyes refused to look up beyond the feet that stood before Tanjirou and herself.

“What I’m interested right now, is hearing this boy’s story.” Shinobu said. “He’s been traveling with a demon all this time, and I wish to hear why. It must be quite the tale to have Tomioka-san break ranks,” the feet take a step closer and Shinobu’s voice dropped in volume, “and you as well, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) tightened her grip over her pant leg, still refusing to look up. She could imagine an array of expressions her old friend could be wearing right now that could cut her deeper than any blade. Pity, anger, disgust, smugness, apathy, that blank smile... no, (Y/n) couldn’t bear to look up.

“So why, Kamado Tanjirou?” Shinobu asked.

“Who cares?” Uzui scoffed from a few yards away, yet he waited for the boy to explain himself.

“She’s my—“ he broke into a fit of coughs and (Y/n) tried to soothe his back, telling him to breathe.

Shinobu stooped down, a gourd of water in hand, offering the water to Tanjirou and finally catching (Y/n)’s eyes as the boy drank the medicated water. When Shinobu’s eyes returned to Tanjirou, (Y/n) remembered how to breathe.

“She’s my little sister!” Tanjirou proclaimed. “She’s never hurt anyone and she never will!”

A few of the Hashira began casting their doubt, but Tanjirou powered through.

“I became a slayer to find a cure for her! In two whole years since she became a demon, she’s never eaten a single person! Let her continue to fight by my side!”

“Well, well, looks like the fun’s already starting.”

(Y/n) turned her head and her breathing hitched. Of course the Wind Pillar of all people would get his hands on Nezuko’s box.

“Is this the boy who has been traveling with a demon? Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Shinazugawa asked with a sinister grin.

“Please put down the box Shinazugawa-sama!” The Kakushi (Y/n) recalled to have prior possession of the box pleaded.

“Shinazugawa, please do not act out of line.” Shinobu warned.

“Nah, run that by me again, kid?” Sanemi jeered, holding the box precariously in one hand, “fighting alongside a demon? Impossible, you idiot!”

Tanjirou and (Y/n) called out in horror as the Hashira rammed his blade clean through the box, skewering Nezuko.

Tanjirou scrambled to his feet and lunged at Sanemi, (Y/n) was about to get to her feet as well, but Shinobu held her firmly in place, clutching (Y/n)’s arm tightly while shooting her a warning glance.

(Y/n) could only watch, mouth agape, as Tanjirou head butted Shinazugawa to the ground.

Mitsuri attempted to stifle a snort, covering her face in her hands.

“If you can’t tell the difference between good demons and bad ones, then you don’t deserve to be a Hashira!” Tanjirou yelled.

“We’re doomed.” (Y/n) whispered weakly. She felt as if all her blood was sinking to her knees, sinking as fast as their chance of forgiveness down the drain.

Before Sanemi could retaliate, a couple of Oyakata-sama’s children announced the Master’s arrival. (Y/n) was quick to follow Shinobu in a bow, wincing when she heard what could only be Sanemi pounding Tanjirou into the rocks, forcing him to bow.

“Hello everyone,” Oyakata-sama addressed the garden, his voice carried in the warm breeze, “how good it feels to have you all here.”

Sanemi greeted the Master, formally asking for an explanation. If not for the seriousness of the moment, (Y/n) would have rolled her eyes.

“The Kamado siblings have been sanctioned, you see. I request you all respect that.” Oyakata stated simply.

An array of mostly negative objections arose at this ending with Sanemi calling for punishments for Tanjirou, (Y/n), and Giyuu.

The Master stood silently for a moment before asking one of his children to read a letter aloud. A letter from a previous Hashira, detailing Nezuko’s history. The letter also revealing that should Nezuko fail; Urokodaki, Tanjirou, and Giyuu would atone through seppuku.

A few of the Hashira were still willing to speak against such a plan, swearing that it was not a risk worth taking. Once there was a lull in their heated remarks,  Ubuyashiki saw fit to address (Y/n).

“(Y/n), my child.”

(Y/n)’s head jutted up at the sudden call of attention to her presence. “Ye— yes, Master?”

“Why do you think that of the squad that has been built around you, only you are here?” Oyakata-sama asked with an warm smile.

“I would suppose it would be because I should know better than a ragtag group of Mizunoto, Master.” came (Y/n)’s subdued reply.

“I would hope so.” The Master chuckled, causing heat to bloom across (Y/n)’s cheeks. “Why didn’t you kill the demon?”

“I was going to, but she proved herself to me,” (Y/n) began speaking more evenly as she recalled the moment, “I presented her with my blood, my rare blood, and she turned away. I have traveled with the Kamado siblings for weeks and not once had Nezuko hurt anyone. She protects people, she sleeps to replenish energy. Based on everything I have observed, I believe in Nezuko. I believe in Tanjirou.”

“Would you stake your life on this along with the others listed here today?” Oyakata-sama asked.

(Y/n) breathed in, firmly nodding her head. Her eyes meeting Ubuyashiki’s milky blank one’s despite his lack of vision.

“Yes, I would.”

Shinobu’s hold on (Y/n)’s bicep curled. (Y/n) hadn’t realized she had still been holding her down.

“And here we have three, now four, people willing to take responsibility for this demon. What say you, my children?” The Master asked the Hashira warmly.

“Forgive me Master, but this is not a matter of numbers!” Sanemi yelled, “Demons are sick creatures that need to be put down and I’ll prove it to you now!”

Sanemi sliced his arm, much more blood than (Y/n) had conjured with the small cut to her thumb that she had presented to Nezuko. She and Tanjirou watched as the blood dripped to the box, staining the lacquered wood.

“No good doing this in the light.” Obanai said, “it won’t come out unless it’s dark.”

Sanemi dashed to the shaded engawa, enticing Nezuko to come out with another stab at the box.

“No!” Tanjirou yelled, he made to scramble to the engawa, but was quickly subdued by Obanai.

“Stop!” (Y/n) echoed Tanjirou’s sentiments, pulling against Shinobu’s hold. “Why are you being so needlessly cruel?”

Sanemi ignored them, a wicked grin on his face as he watched Nezuko emerge from the box, growling lowly.

“Well then, demon?” He sneered, holding out his arm.

(Y/n) could tell Nezuko was straining against the pull of the marechi blood. With all of the injuries she had sustained working against her as well, it couldn’t be easy for the demon to hold back.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou wheezed as Obanai was pincering his lung painfully with his elbow.

“Kamado-kun,” Shinobu addressed, “don’t struggle too much while in that hold, your lung might burst.”

Tanjirou only struggled harder, surprising everyone when he broke through his rope restraints and stumbled towards the engawa. Tomioka stopped Obanai from pinning him again.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou called again.

His voice seemed to finally break through to Nezuko and after a few tense moments, she turned away from Sanemi in disgust.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the relieved smile that overtook her lips.

Once the scene was relayed to the Master, he seemed pleased with the report. He told Tanjirou that although Nezuko had done well to prove herself, they would need to grow even stronger before they could be fully accepted by the others. With that wisdom, he said they were free to go.

(Y/n) startled as Shinobu finally let her go, raising her arm to speak. “If all is well then Oyakata-sama, allow me to provide lodging for them.”

Both (Y/n) and Tanjirou seemed a bit wary of this sudden hospitality, (Y/n) even more so, but if Shinobu noticed or cared she didn’t show it, signaling the Kakushi who had been standing by to gather the injured boy and the demon.

The Kakushi tasked with carrying Nezuko seemed a bit frightened of the little demon kneeling in her box, so naturally (Y/n) rose to carry her instead.

“I’ve got her.” She smiled kindly and reached for the box and secured it shut, but not before giving the demon girl a few well earned head pats that rose Nezuko’s mood greatly.

Another Kakushi picked up Tanjirou then (Y/n) and the two Kakushi quickly made their retreat. That is, until Tanjirou bursted back into the garden asking to headbutt Sanemi.

“Please excuse us!” (Y/n) and the two Kakushi bowed deeply once they got him back under control and sped off twice as fast. (Y/n) and the Kakushi running beside her berated Tanjirou from where he sat on the other Kakushi’s back for such a disrespectful display after being allowed the impossible. 

When they reached the Butterfly Estate, (Y/n)’s heart squeezed in her chest. The grounds looked to be near the same as the night she had left. No one was there to greet them at the door, so they went around the gardens and found Kanao standing amongst the butterflies.

“Hi, Kanao.” (Y/n) greeted the younger girl bashfully. Now that they weren’t battling over keeping Nezuko’s head, (Y/n) finally took in how much she had grown in four years.

Kanao stayed silent, a serene smile on her lips as she merely observed the group that had approached her.

“What are you all here for?” A sharp voice called from behind them, causing the Kakushi to jump and spin to quickly explain they were here to put Tanjirou in the infirmary.

“Well then come with me...” Aoi’s words trailed off a bit once her eyes found (Y/n)’s face.

“Hi Aoi,” (Y/n) gave a nervous half wave, “you’ve gotten a bit taller.”

Aoi marched straight up to (Y/n) and berated her with a barrage of small fists pounding painlessly against her chest. “What would you expect after being gone so long!” She sniffed, “Four years without a single letter or visit? We thought you were dead, idiot!”

“(Y/n)-san? Do you know these people?” Tanjirou asked from Gotou’s back.

“Yeah, I uh, sorta used to live here.” (Y/n) replied, allowing Aoi to continue hitting her to her heart’s content.

“‘Sorta used to live here’, you’re family! You have always had a place here! Now come on, I’m sure Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho will have a bone to pick with you as well. And Shinobu-sama!” Aoi’s fist struck especially hard at the thought, “Shinobu-sama is going to have some choice words for you when she gets back I just know it!”

Aoi led them all inside, occasionally throwing a few more jabs into (Y/n)’s side to make sure she was really there. She didn’t admit that was what they were for of course, she played it off more as a punishment for disappearing for so long.

There was screaming coming from the infirmary and (Y/n) would have been worried if she hadn’t recognized the sound almost immediately.

“Zenitsu!” Tanjirou called excitedly.

While Tanjirou and poor Gotou were dealing with the sobbing, snotty boy, Aoi had dragged (Y/n) over to Kiyo who had been tending to Zenitsu only moments before.

“Look who finally decided to come home.” Aoi told the younger girl who looked up, tilting her head. (Y/n) almost thought Kiyo hadn’t recognized her. Being as young as she was, she wouldn’t have blamed her, but then she burst forward and hugged (Y/n) tightly around her waist.

“What’s going on in here? Hm, Aoi-san, Kiyo?”

Naho and Sumi had made their way into the infirmary with a basket of fresh linens and paused at the entryway for a moment before they realized who their friend was hugging and ran over to join her with tears in their eyes.

“(Y/n)-san, where have you been all this time?” Naho whimpered.

“Why didn’t you say anything before you left?” Sumi cried.

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) knelt down to better hug them all, “I know it’s not enough to make up for anything, but I’m sorry for leaving like that. It wasn’t fair,” she looked up to meet Aoi’s stern blue eyes, “to any of you.”

“Well, make it up to us by sticking around from now on.” Aoi said, crossing her arms. “No more running away.”

“But...” (Y/n) was conflicted. Had Shinobu not told the girls why she had left? (Y/n) mustered up the best smile she could and nodded feebly. “All right.”

“(Y/n)-san, your box is... humming?” Sumi pointed at the wooden box.

“Oh, um, you see... in this box is my friend, Nezuko,” (Y/n) treaded carefully, not wishing to startle the girls too badly if she could help it.

“You have someone in a box?” Aoi barked, “well let them out for goodness sake!”

“It’s a little bright in here...” (Y/n) shifted her vision to where Tanjirou and Zenitsu were talking, catching sight of Inosuke as well. Poor boar boy looked like he’d seen better days. “And I’m not sure that Shinobu-” should she still speak of her so informally? “-would be pleased if I let her out without her blessing.”

“Why wouldn’t Shinobu-sama allow you to let someone out of a box?” Aoi rolled her eyes.

“It’s complicated. I’m sure she’ll want to talk to you all about it once she comes back. Until then, Nezuko will be fine in here.”

The girls, though incredulous, let the subject drop for now. Although, they couldn’t help but eye the box with suspicion. Once Tanjirou was settled in the infirmary, the butterfly girls dragged (Y/n) away to talk about the goings on of the last four years which soon devolved into hounding (Y/n) for her own stories to share, even Kanao had come by to sit and listen.

“...And that’s how I helped the fishing village take care of the demon that was lurking in the sea.”

“Tell us another one, (Y/n)-san!” The youngest girls pleaded, kicking their feet in the air behind them. They had migrated to lay flat on their stomachs as the stories progressed and watched (Y/n) recount her adventures with their heads propped up on their arms with rapt attention.

“I’m afraid that will have to wait for another time, it’s quite late you know.”

Everyone turned to the door to find Shinobu staring down at them. The youngest girls pouted a bit, trying to get a bit more time to stick around, but Shinobu held firm and directed them to their rooms.

“You’ll still be here tomorrow, right? (Y/n)-san?” Sumi asked from the doorway.

“I...” (Y/n) pulled at the sleeve of her uniform and subtly pursed her lips while trying to figure out how to proceed, to her surprise, Shinobu spoke up on her behalf.

“I promise you’ll see her in the morning. Now of to bed. (Y/n) and I have much to discuss.”

The thought of having a prolonged conversation with Shinobu sent shivers through (Y/n)’s spine. Once all the girls were well out of sight, Shinobu redirected her attention to (Y/n).

“Let’s drop off your cargo first,” Shinobu said, motioning to the box sitting beside (Y/n), “I’ve arranged a room and Kamado-kun has been wondering where his... sister, has been.”

“Of course.” (Y/n) stood, shouldering the box.

Apparently the room was rather far. (Y/n) felt as if the silence between them was slowly eating at her until she finally decided to speak. For better or for worse.

“You’ve taken all of this extraordinarily well,” (Y/n) commented, testing the waters.

“Mm, I’d like to hold off on any conversation until we drop off the demon. Use this time to gather any thoughts, if you have them that is.”

(Y/n)’s brow furrowed slightly, eyes narrowed. She was sure that was some kind of dig at her intelligence, but she held her tongue.

They dropped off Nezuko, (Y/n) and Tanjirou bid each other good night, and then (Y/n) was led to an all too familiar space, the lab.

Shinobu motioned for (Y/n) to sit at one of the less cluttered tables while she closed the door firmly behind them. (Y/n) would have been lying if she said she wasn’t even just a tad bit concerned by the setting of this ‘talk’ that was about to unfold. Finally, Shinobu took the stool across from her on the other side of the table. She laced her fingers together, using them to prop up her chin as her endlessly amethyst eyes bore into (Y/n)’s. That ghostly smile seemingly perfected after four years of separation, had (Y/n)’s hands clench into fists under the table.

“So,” Shinobu began, her voice deceptively sweet, “when exactly do you think it was when you completely lost your mind?”

“Excuse me?” (Y/n)’s eye twitched.

“Defending a demon, offering up your own life for a demon to live... how insanely idiotic. I thought you were smarter than that. I suppose it had been.. four years, was it? Four years since you ran off. And I thought that was the most careless thing you could ever do. You really have outdone yourself!”

“Stop,” (Y/n) had heard enough of these little jabs and she new well enough Shinobu could go all day as long as she hadn’t changed too drastically in their time apart. However, Shinobu powered through.

“Everyone was devastated when you left you know. We were a family and you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word so soon after—“ After Kanae, “Now you’re putting everything on the line for some demon? You’re a coward. A selfish coward.”

(Y/n) was really angry now. She stood up so fast her stool clattered to the ground behind her. She slammed her hands against the table and stared furiously into Shinobu’s placid expression, though she could detect a hint of a heated spark in those deep purple eyes.

“Don’t act like you’re so innocent in all of this! You told me to leave! You want to judge me for trusting Nezuko with my life, fine! But I only did what you commanded of me when I left. You don’t get to say I just fucked off because you think I didn’t care enough!”

Shinobu had the nerve to chuckle, though no trace of humor was there, as she slowly rose to her own feet and assumed a similar stance over the table as (Y/n).

“Did you really think when I said that, when I told you to leave the lab, I meant I wanted you to walk out of my life?” Shinobu asked seriously.

“I didn’t know what you wanted! You weren’t the same person anymore! Don’t try telling me that it wasn’t what you wanted either, you never came looking for me. You never sent your crow. Tell me you weren’t ecstatic when you woke up that morning and didn’t have to deal with me anymore!”

Shinobu slapped her own hand against the table, a vein pulsed painfully under the skin of her forehead. She opened her mouth to retort, poisoned words ready to lash out with a flick of her tongue, but as luck would have it, a Kakushi nervously called from the other side of the door.

“Kochou-sama, the treatments for the, uh, despiderfication of the slayers from Natagumo Mountain are ready to be carried out with your supervision.”

Shinobu closed her eyes, breathing in deeply before opening them again and looking significantly more drained.

“I see. Please inform the others that I’ll be there in a few moments.”

“Right away, Kochou-sama.”

As the footsteps pattered away, (Y/n) fixed her stool upright before heading in the direction of the door, assuming she and Shinobu were done talking, or screaming rather. (Y/n) was surprised to feel Shinobu grasp her hand as she tried to pass by.

“You remember where your room is, right?” Shinobu asked, the undertones of her voice still taut with anger.

(Y/n) too tired to fight on, responded simply with a mute nod.

“I had the Kakushi clean it earlier today. Everything should still be as you left it.”

Shinobu let go of (Y/n)’s hand and it immediately felt cold. The Hashira opened the lab door and stepped out into the hallway, her back to (Y/n) as she made her last parting statement.

“If you know what is good for you, you won’t step a foot outside of estate grounds without speaking to me first.”

“And if I don’t?” (Y/n) asked just to be obstinate.

“Then I guess I’ll have to hunt you down for sport.” Shinobu quickly replied, turning to face (Y/n) just to show her how serious she was.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the weak guffaw that left her lips. To hear such a threat delivered by such a soothing tone was practically oxymoronic.

Shinobu lingered for a moment longer before gliding off to see to her patients while (Y/n) turned down the opposite end of the hallway and traveled down a few more to find herself standing outside of her old room. She opened the door, the space was clean as Shinobu promised. She closed the door softly behind her, blocking off the light from the hall. There would be time to be sentimental in the morning. Right now, between the Mountain, the trial and the emotional battle with the Insect Hashira herself, (Y/n) was exhausted. She scooted her way into the freshly made futon and fell asleep with the nostalgic smell of wisteria petals drifting through her airways.

***

(Y/n) awoke around mid-morning to the sun shining through her window. She stretched and got dressed, her fingers pausing over the last few buttons of her uniform as she glanced over the desk.

The butterfly hair clip she had once worn with pride sat in front of her. It appeared to be left untouched by time. Not even a speck of dust adorned the colorful wings. She reached out to it, but her fingers curled just before she touched it. She pulled her hand back as a knock sounded on the door.

“Yes?”

“It’s Aoi.” A voice called from the other side.

(Y/n) quickly took the last few steps needed to reach the door and slid it open to greet Aoi but before she could, the stern girl stepped inside and pulled the door shut again.

“Were you and Shinobu-sama fighting last night?” She asked hurriedly.

“Where did you hear that?” (Y/n) answered the question with one of her own.

“The Kakushi are partial to gossip. Now what did you do!” Aoi huffed, jabbing (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Why does it have to be me? Shinobu was the one who started it!” (Y/n) backed up, rubbing her shoulder.

“You two better make up soon. It will hurt Naho, Sumi and Kiyo if they find out you’re still mad at each other,” Aoi crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s not that easy, Aoi. It’s been four years. It’s not all going to go away overnight.”

“Do I have to do everything around here?” Aoi grumbled to herself, passing a hand over her face. “I’ll help you, but you better try to be civil.”

“Aoi, I don’t need help. I’m sorry that fight got back to you. If Shinobu and I talk again, I promise I’ll try harder to keep my temper in check, okay?”

Aoi sighed and shook her head, “Fine. That wasn’t what I had come to talk to you about anyway.”

“Oh,” (Y/n) tilted her head, “then what is it?”

“Your friends,” Aoi pinched the bridge of her nose, “they’re driving me crazy. I need you to get the blonde and the boar to participate in recovery training.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” (Y/n) answered with slight reluctance. She knew just how difficult those two could be.

Aoi and (Y/n) arrived at the room that was being used for the boys’ recovery training. Tanjirou was already working hard, trying to catch Kanao in a game of tag, while Zenitsu and Inosuke watched from the corner with bitter disinterest.

“Hey,” (Y/n) addressed the younger teens, “what’s the problem? Don’t you guys want to get better? Stronger?”

“It’s pointless.” Inosuke weakly answered.

“(Y/n)-san, this training is too difficult!” Zenitsu cried.

(Y/n) dodged the weepy blonde’s attempts at hugging her and bonked him on the head with the side of her fist.

“I feel no sympathy for you. Aoi and the others are working really hard to get you back in fighting shape, the least you could do is put a little bit of effort in!” (Y/n) crossed her arms, “before you know it, Tanjirou will leave you both in the dust. Do you really want that?”

Zenitsu and Inosuke grunted, still refusing to budge. (Y/n) motioned for Naho to hand her a cup of medicated water and promptly splashed its contents all over the boys.

“What was that for?” Zenitsu screeched.

“Want revenge? Come take me on.” (Y/n) motioned to the table of cups.

Naho, Sumi and Kiyo made small sounds of excitement, trying to encourage the boys, but they just grumbled and walked back to the infirmary.

“You guys are going to regret walking away!” (Y/n) called after them. “Let me know when you are done moping and want to get back to work!”

“Oh my.” Shinobu giggled as she walked in, watching Zenitsu and Inosuke sulk past her.

Shinobu turned to observe the room, pausing at (Y/n). Her eyes flickered down at (Y/n)’s chest and stayed there long enough for the other slayer to notice.

“What?” (Y/n) had grumbled mostly to herself as she followed Shinobu’s gaze downward. Heat shot to her face immediately as she realized she had forgotten to finish buttoning her uniform after Aoi distracted her. It wasn’t showing a lot, just her collar bones and a bit of her chest, but it was still jarring. With a strangled chirp, she quickly buttoned her uniform the rest of the way.

“Oh please, no need to cover up on my account.” Shinobu easily teased, though she felt a bit embarrassed to have been caught staring. She wasn’t entirely sure why her vision gravitated there to begin with.

After a few false starts, (Y/n) finally choked out, “what do you want?”

“I need Kanao and Aoi to help me gather more herbs for spider demon antidotes, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Kochou-sama,” Aoi interjected before (Y/n) could retaliate, “Kanao and I are helping Tanjirou complete his recovery training for the day. I’ve asked (Y/n)-san to fill in for us and she has readily agreed to take our place.”

(Y/n) gave Aoi a look, prompting the younger girl to pinch at (Y/n)’s side discreetly. A message to keep her mouth shut. Kanao simply blinked, twisting on the ball of her foot to dodge another one of Tanjirou’s lunges.

“Very well then, keep up (Y/n). I hope you still remember a thing or two about plants in that thick skull of yours,” Shinobu glided past (Y/n) to step out onto the engawa, “though I wouldn’t be too surprised if all of that knowledge fell out of your head along with your common sense.”

(Y/n) opened her mouth before shutting it firmly closed. Remembering that the younger girls were there and what Aoi had asked of her, she pursed her lips and silently fell into step beside the Hashira, walking with her to the nearby forest where the herbs they needed flourished.

“You recall what Aralia Cordata looks like, correct?” Shinobu asked once they were well within the trees.

“Yeah, kind of hard to miss that shrub if you know what you’re looking for.” (Y/n) groused.

“Fine, fine. Don’t come crying to me if you touch something poisonous.”

“I won’t. Won’t touch anything poisonous I mean. Because I know what I’m doing.”

“Are you telling me that or are you just trying to reassure yourself?”

(Y/n) chose not to reply, instead she split off from Shinobu to one of the shrubs in question and began harvesting a few leafy tendrils from it. Before long, her basket was filled and she turned just in time to see Shinobu turn back to her own bush, pretending to examine one of the tendrils she had cut.

“You know,” (Y/n) sighed as she stood back to her full height, “Aoi only made me come here in her stead because that fight we had last night got back to her. She expects us to make up.”

“Mm, I figured it was something like that,” Shinobu hummed, “I do believe that for once, she is too optimistic in that regard.”

“Well, you never did like admitting when you were wrong,” (Y/n) shrugged, “or saying you’re sorry. It’s comforting to know you haven’t completely destroyed your old personality.”

“And what exactly have I been wrong about, (Y/n)?” Shinobu’s forehead pulsed, “what exactly have I done that requires an apology?”

“You lie to everyone Shinobu. You hide behind plastic smiles pretending to be someone you’re not to fill a void. Saying your fine and shrugging everyone off while holding them at arm's length. When I tried to talk to you, you pushed me away and told me to leave. You were dismissive, cold.”

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around herself as if a chilling wind overcame her. Continuing on, she spoke lowly before Shinobu could speak her denial.

“Not to say that I don’t have my own fault in all of this. Even if I thought you really wanted me gone that night, I should have fought harder for you. I knew you were hurting, but I gave up and left anyway. That is something I’ve thought about a lot in our time apart and I regret it every day because you were worth fighting for.”

(Y/n) blew out a harsh breath of air, running a hand over her scalp she made her closing statement.

“If there was one thing you were right about last night, it’s that I’m a coward and I’m sorry that I didn’t try harder.”

(Y/n) chanced a look at Shinobu’s face. The Hashira’s eyes rounded and her mouth was ever so slightly agape. The silence hung in the air until a sweet wisteria breeze swept through the trees and (Y/n) cleared her throat and looked away.

“So if we could at least pretend to get along for the sake of the girls, I think Aoi would appreciate it.” (Y/n) added before reaching down to collect her basket. A sudden noise, like air being rapidly released through one’s nose, came from behind (Y/n) and she paused in her movements to glance back at Shinobu who was looking down at the leaf she was worrying between her fingers.

“I... apologize, for pushing you away in such a way that made you think you had to exile yourself. It was also cruel of me to say you didn’t care about us when I knew that you thought of this place as your home. I was trying to hurt you back and that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.” Shinobu solemnly said.

Now it was (Y/n)’s turn to stare. Soon, Shinobu leveled a cocky smile and stood with her basket of leaves and a few other miscellaneous plants she gathered.

“Looks like you were wrong about my ability to apologize, hm?” She said.

“Shut up. Don’t ruin the moment.” (Y/n) smiled, reaching for her own basket.

The atmosphere surrounding the girls leaving the forest felt a lot more relaxed than it had upon entering.

***

Days turned into weeks and everything seemed so much better after. It was still awkward at times, but (Y/n) and Shinobu were finding their rhythm again. There was still a little hostility at times, but rather than avoid each other, they talked it out. It was almost frightening how in sync they were when they were working well together.

(Y/n) split her time between helping Shinobu with the slayers turned spiders and helping the younger girls train Tanjirou. She was elated by the boy’s progress as he finally managed to catch Kanao. She had noticed Zenitsu and Inosuke lurking nearby and gestured to the room. Now that they knew recovery training was possible and Tanjirou was leaving them in the dust, the rambunctious boys finally felt the need to catch up with their comrade’s progress.

Before long, the boys were well enough to continue the training on their own and (Y/n) found herself spending more and more time with Shinobu. They would spend hours talking or saying nothing at all, just enjoying each other’s company while they worked away on medicines and poisons.

It didn’t take long for (Y/n) to notice the difference. How Shinobu took up more than her fair share of space in (Y/n)’s thoughts. Even just catching sight of her across the garden was starting to make (Y/n)’s heart leap. On the occasion Shinobu would spot her she’d smile and wave, making (Y/n)’s heart stop all together before kicking into overdrive. The lingering touches and whispered words Shinobu would share with her as they worked in the lab certainly didn’t help either. Just when (Y/n) had thought they finally found their dynamic... Why was it changing again already?

(Y/n) was telling Naho, Sumi and Kiyo the story of how she met Tanjirou and Nezuko while she patted the demon’s head. Ever since Nezuko had woken up, the younger girls, though skittish at first, had grown to be fascinated and even enamored with her. As (Y/n) retold the tale, Nezuko humming happily at her side, Shinobu happened upon the group.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this session short. Tanjirou and the others are ready to get back out on the road now. Something about joining Rengoku-san on his next mission.”

“How did I not here about this plan sooner?” (Y/n) frowned.

“That’s a question best suited for Tanjirou to answer I suppose.” Shinobu replied rather emotionlessly, concerning (Y/n).

So while everyone else was getting ready to leave, (Y/n) pulled Tanjirou aside and asked him what was going on.

“I didn’t tell you we were leaving because I hope you’ll stay and continue to rebuild the relationships you have here, (Y/n)-san. I appreciate everything you’ve done for Nezuko and I, and now I hope to return the favor.” Tanjirou smiled brightly.

“And how do you figure you’re doing that?” (Y/n) crossed her arms.

“Because the longer you get to stay here, the more time you get to spend with Shinobu-san! I can smell that you two want to be together more now than ever.”

“You and your nose I swear,” heat radiated off of (Y/n)’s cheeks, “I think you have intuition and that sense mixed up.”

Tanjirou merely laughed in response.

“So, you guys think you’ll really be okay without me? You’ll stay out of trouble?”

“Don’t worry, (Y/n)-san! We’ll see each other again soon!” Tanjirou beamed.

(Y/n) smiled in return and they rejoined the send off.

“Where did Shinobu-san go?” Tanjirou wondered.

(Y/n) looked around and sure enough, the Pillar was nowhere to be seen.

“She must have had something urgent to attend to,” she answered, making a note to search for her later.

(Y/n) stood out in the garden until the loud group disappeared into the trees and their shouts could no longer be heard over the rustling of the leaves. She took a moment to stare out into the clear blue sky before returning inside.

(Y/n) was going to go look for Shinobu, but she wanted to go to her room to change her uniform first since Zenitsu had snotted all over it in his tearful goodbye.

She opened the door and was surprised to find Shinobu already inside. Shinobu’s back was turned to her as she quickly ran a sleeve over her face. She cleared her throat before facing back with a weak smile.

“(Y/n), forget something?”

“Huh?” (Y/n) blinked, still trying to process why Shinobu might have just been tearing up in her room of all places.

“The others must be ready to leave now. You better pick up what you needed so they don't have to wait too long.”

“They already left, Shinobu.” (Y/n) explained. “I hadn’t planned on going with them.”

“Oh.” Shinobu turned to look outside the window of (Y/n)’s room, hoping the blood that buzzed in her cheeks hadn’t burned its way to her ears as well.

“Shinobu, is something wrong?” (Y/n) tested.

“I just feel a bit silly now I suppose.” Shinobu admitted, bringing a slight smile to (Y/n)’s face with her honesty. “I thought you were gone again.”

“Well, I wouldn’t leave without a proper goodbye, not again.” (Y/n) came up beside Shinobu, intending to give her hand a comforting squeeze when she felt something other than skin instead. Looking down she saw her old butterfly clip in Shinobu’s hand, a quick look at the empty spot at her desk confirmed it.

Shinobu noticed that (Y/n) had noticed and rose the hairclip up between them with a subdued exhale.

“You know, every morning I wonder if it will be the morning you feel comfortable enough to wear this again.” Shinobu said, twirling the insect in her fingers. “When I thought you were gone and I saw this still sitting on your desk, it brought me back to places I’d rather not think about.”

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) rested her hand over the back of Shinobu’s haori, “I just haven’t felt... I don’t know, worthy of it? I didn’t intend to make you feel bad.”

A small puff of air left Shinobu’s nose at the words. “It isn’t a matter of worth, it’s about whether or not you feel like you belong here again. Whether or not you’re comfortable here.”

“Agree to disagree.” (Y/n) joked. “But if it makes you feel better, I’m glad I get to spend more time here. I’ve been happier in these last few weeks than in the last few years.”

“I’m glad.” Shinobu watched a couple of butterflies flutter against the window before turning back to the garden. “And if you insist on it being a matter of worth, you are more than worthy. It’s not even a question to me.”

“Thank you.” (Y/n) simpered. Her breathing hitched slightly when Shinobu reached up to run her fingers through a loose lock of (Y/n)’s hair.

“Would you let me do your hair?” Shinobu asked softly.

“I’d like that.” (Y/n) whispered.

Shinobu guided (Y/n) back to the desk and sat her down on the chair. She freed (Y/n)’s hair from its plain hair band and quietly ran a brush through her locks with such softness that (Y/n) felt like she might fall asleep. Shinobu gathered the hair in her hands and styled it as she wished, clipping it together with the butterfly hair clip. Shinobu checked over her work, her hands resting on (Y/n)’s shoulders.

“You look perfect.” (Y/n) shivered. She hadn’t expected Shinobu’s lips to be so close to her ear. Neither had she expected the lips to ghost over her cheek in a light kiss.

“I just remembered I have a meeting I need to attend. You’ll help the girls with the infirmary won’t you?”

(Y/n) had almost forgotten how to speak but managed to pull it together. “Of course! I’ll, um, see you when you get back?”

“Perhaps,” Shinobu removed her hands from (Y/n)’s shoulders, “I won’t be back until late though.”

“Okay.”

A shy hug (in slightly awkward positioning due to the gross state of the Kinoe’s uniform, courtesy of Zenitsu) and Shinobu parted ways with (Y/n). (Y/n) met up with the girls in the infirmary and was almost immediately met with a chorus of cheers from Naho, Kiyo and Sumi when they noticed her hair. Aoi and Kanao smiled at the sight as well. A full day of caring for the infirmary made (Y/n) excited to finally get into bed for the night.

She awoke with a scream caught in her throat. Old demons had visited her in her sleep. As she worked to calm her heart, she noticed the light of the full moon streaming through her window. With a few more deep breaths she sat up from her futon and wrapped her haori around her shoulders.

Quietly exiting her room, she padded through the halls until she found her way to the kitchen, a smile pulled at her lips when she found Shinobu already there boiling water.

“Rough night?” Shinobu asked. She was also in her bed wear, her hair hanging loose from its usual style.

“Yes,” (Y/n) moved to stand beside her, “it’s been awhile since the last one I had.”

“How did you deal with that when you were on the road?”

“I would buy little sacks of tea leaves as I went. On bad nights or whenever sleep eluded me I’d boil up some water and try a new blend. Yours was always the best though.”

“I was already going to make you a cup, no need for flattery.”

“No flattery here. Just the truth.” (Y/n) swore, making Shinobu’s smile just a tad fuller.

Shinobu finished preparing the cups and as (Y/n) took hers about ready to leave, the Hashira asked her to wait.

“It’s a full moon tonight. Want to watch the stars for a moment?” Shinobu asked.

“I’d love to.” (Y/n) nodded.

The pair walked outside along the engawa until they had a pleasant view of the full brightness of the moon. They sat along the engawa’s edge, letting their legs dangle as they sipped their tea in the drowning noise of cicada and cricket songs.

(Y/n) chanced a glance at Shinobu in her periphery and marveled at how the moonlight highlighted her skin to the point where she almost appeared to be glowing. The way it reflected off of her eyes was absolutely enchanting. (Y/n) forced her attention back on the sky. Though beautiful it seemed to pale in comparison to the girl next to her.

As her eyes traced over the larger craters of the moon, she thought back on an old saying she had read at one of the inns she had frequented. An old, battered collection of pages that she read through when sleep didn’t come. She had read that particular work quite a few times.

She wondered if perhaps Shinobu had read it too. Though more likely the girl had her face buried in medical texts than anything else. (Y/n) then wondered, if perhaps she could get away with saying it. A confession without consequence, but on the off change that Shinobu was knowledgeable on the old text it could damage the progress they had made in healing their relationship. Perhaps it would be better to just enjoy the moment. (Y/n) took another sip of tea.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

(Y/n) nearly choked on her tea, spluttering and coughing as she tried in vein to stop herself. Finally she managed to calm down only to notice how intently Shinobu was staring at her.

Had she meant that literally? Shinobu was looking at (Y/n) so expectantly, but it could easily just be because she had nearly blacked out from inhaling her tea!

“...It is.” (Y/n) finally answered hiding her face in her cup, looking at neither Shinobu nor the moon.

Another long silence filled by the chirps of insects enjoying the humid night air. (Y/n) had finished her tea and set her cup to her right, her free hand that had been resting between Shinobu and herself was soon covered by a cool and calloused touch.

(Y/n) shyly turned her head to meet the Pillar’s gaze and jumped a bit when her nose unexpectedly brushed against Shinobu’s.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Shinobu repeated barely above a whisper. She was not pulling away.

(Y/n) felt her throat dry and she wished she had just one more swallow of tea left. With a slight quiver in her lips, she responded. Doing her best to stay focused on the purple irises before her.

“Yes,” she answered with a slight nod, careful not to bump head with Shinobu, “it is.”

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu called to her, cupping her face gently with the hand that wasn’t already resting on top of (Y/n)’s.

“Y.. yes?”

“Would you kiss me if I asked?” Shinobu murmured, filling (Y/n)’s senses with a dizzying wisteria scent. The slayer didn’t even try to talk herself out of answering such a query as the thumb of Shinobu’s hand swiped the corner of her lips.

“Yes.” She replied, nearly breathless already and her pupils blown wide.

“(Y/n), please kiss me.”

It was all too easy to lean in when they were already sitting so closely. The hand Shinobu had been using to cup her cheek weaved through the hair at the back of (Y/n)’s head, pulling her closer yet as their lips met a bit clumsily in buzzing, mind numbing bliss. (Y/n)’s free hand, the one not currently being clutched in a near death grip over the wooden floor, found home at the back of Shinobu’s neck, lightly massaging the skin there.

They broke apart a few times but the breaths they took were quick and few. Eventually they rested against each other while their abused lungs burned with a hunger for oxygen.

“I have wanted to do that for longer than I’d like to admit.” Shinobu quietly confessed, twisting a lock of (Y/n)’s hair though her fingers.

“Even when we were fighting?” (Y/n) joked, rubbing the back of Shinobu’s neck with her thumb.

“Strangely enough, yes. There were times when I thought about doing it just to shut you up. Though I didn’t dare allow myself to entertain the thought for long.”

(Y/n) chuckled and leaned in to steal another kiss, much less heated then the last few and much quicker as a chorus of surprised gasps made them pull apart and turn around.

“They kissed! They’re kissing!” Sumi cheered while Aoi tried to quiet her and push her back into the mansion.

Sumi and Kiyo emerged from the doorway that Shinobu had left open when she and (Y/n) first came out into the moonlight and were immediately hounding them for confirmation.

“We missed it! Do it again!” Kiyo pleaded.

“It’s like a fairy tale!” Naho cheered.

“You three!” Aoi grumbled with embarrassment. “Kanao, help me out here!”

Kanao looked between Aoi, the rowdy girls, then her sister and senpai, before settling on a nice golf clap of congratulations. This made Aoi lightly smack herself in the face and completely give up on trying to rein in the younger children.

“My, what are you all doing up I wonder?” Shinobu smiled.

“We wanted to watch the moon too Shinobu-sama! Aoi-san even made tea!” Naho clapped.

“But it’s clear you’re, busy, with something and we should go back inside.” Aoi rushed.

“Nonsense, it’s a lovely night. These things are best experienced with those you care about, don’t you all agree?”

“Yes!” Three excited voices readily agreed before wiggling in between the older girls with light blankets and their tea.

Aoi grumbled a half hearted reminder to be careful with the tea before sitting down beside (Y/n) with her own cup. Kanao took a seat beside Shinobu, lightly kicking her feet over the engawa as she started up silently at the moon.

They stayed up for hours, naming constellations, spotting shooting stars, and listening for the occasional loud croak of a far off frog in the thick of the cicadas and crickets.

Dawn wasn’t too far off when Naho, Sumi and Kiyo fell asleep. (Y/n), Shinobu and Kanao each picked one up and returned them to their rooms. Aoi gathered the discarded cups and helped with the doors before bidding the older girls goodnight, Kanao trailing behind her.

“What a lively night. I’m afraid chores will suffer tomorrow.” Shinobu mused as she walked (Y/n) back to her room.

“We’ll figure it out.” (Y/n) said, shyly brushing her hand against Shinobu’s and smiling when Shinobu laced their fingers together.

Once at (Y/n)’s room Shinobu raised (Y/n)’s hand to her lips with a smirk, planting a kiss on battle worn knuckles.

“This is where I leave you. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Why does that feel too long?” (Y/n) laughed quietly.

“I’m not sure, you’d think after four years of bitter silence a couple of hours would be a walk in the park.” Shinobu chuckled in return.

“I guess we just have a lot of time to make up for, huh?”

“Mm, that is a plausible line of reasoning,” Shinobu hummed, a spark growing in her eyes, “might I trouble you for one more kiss before I retire to my room?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

(Y/n) hardly got the words out before Shinobu was on her. Four kisses later and they pulled away with matching grins.

“I’ll see you in my dreams.” Shinobu added one last peck before pulling away.

“As will I.”

***

Well into the next morning (Y/n) awoke energized and ready to fight the world. She changed into a fresh uniform and pinned her hair with care, straightening the butterfly pin before rushing out of her room to begin her day with the young woman who had gifted it to her.

[dekuskacchan]

i will follow you into the dark

Rating: T

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a happy ending, Fluff

Summary: Izuku has finally returned to UA, and Katsuki will never let him go again.

Or: Izuku and Katsuki finally discuss their feelings.

A/N: Hi again, friends! Since chapter 322 is out now and dominating all of our lives, I felt inspired to write. This is intended to be a sequel to my fic "Tell Me I'm Dreaming," and takes place immediately after the events of chapter 322. So, spoilers are ahead for that chapter! I hope you like it <3

I'd also like to note: Izuku ate and took a bath when he got back, I just couldn't figure out how to work that in. Fear not, he is a clean and fed boy :')

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33153718

-

Katsuki watches the gentle rise and fall of Izuku’s chest as he sleeps, undoubtedly for the first time in days. He’d fallen asleep the second his head hit the pillow on the small bed in Recovery Girl’s office, and hasn’t budged since.

In the 12 hours Izuku has been back at UA, Katsuki has left his side once, only with substantial convincing from Glasses and Shitty Hair.

“Dude, he’ll probably be out cold for a few more hours. At least go scarf down some food and take a nap,” Shitty Hair said.

“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki retorted, “I ate this morning. And I have slept.”

Kirishima let out an exasperated sigh that irritated Katsuki to no end.

“Did you come here just to piss me off?” he snapped.

“We are concerned for your well being, just as we are Midoriya’s,” Iida said, “you haven’t fully recovered from your own injuries yet. You need to rest.”

“I said I was fucking fine.”

Iida looked at him with knowing eyes and a gentle smile. It annoyed Katsuki even more.

“He won’t disappear if you stop watching him, Bakugou."

“Yeah. We’ll stay with him,” Kirishima added with a thumbs up.

Katsuki gritted his teeth. As much as he hated to admit it, they were right. His empty stomach only served to fuel his anger more.

“I hear they’re serving spicy curry for lunch in the cafeteria,” Iida coaxed.

Katsuki had relented at that point, not because it was his favorite, of course, the growling in his stomach was just giving him away.

Katsuki returned less than an hour later. Kirishima and Iida admittedly had reassured him, to some degree, but it wasn’t enough to quell his anxiety. Iida scolded him for refusing to rest, but did nothing to stop him, as if he knew his efforts were futile. The pair stayed with Katsuki at Izuku’s bedside a while longer, but left him to his devices nonetheless.

Half and Half stopped by some time later, tapping on Katsuki’s shoulder and waking him from a restless sleep in a shitty plastic chair at Izuku’s bedside.

“Wouldn’t it be more comfortable to sleep in your bed, Bakugou?” he asked, sitting in a chair adjacent to him.

“I was sleeping just fine before you fucking showed up, you Half and Half bastard,” Katsuki snarled.

“I’ve been here for an hour and a half, actually,” Todoroki stated. Always so fucking deadpan.

“Why the fuck did you wake me up now then?”

“You looked uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine, asshole,” Katsuki grumbled. Todoroki looked unconvinced.

“I figured you would say that. Here, I brought you this,” Todoroki produced a blanket from behind his chair and handed it to Katsuki.

“I don’t need your fucking charity," Katsuki grumbled, but accepted it anyway, silently grateful for refuge from the chill in the room.

“It’s no trouble,” Todoroki patted his shoulder.

“Tch.” Katsuki shrugged him off.

They sat in silence for a while. Izuku still hadn’t budged. Katsuki was worried, but some part of him was thankful that Izuku was finally fucking resting.

“Everyone is proud of you, you know,” Todoroki said quietly.

“Haah?!”

“It took courage, what you did. We know it’s not easy for you to express your emotions,” he paused, considering his next words, “it... doesn’t come naturally to me, either.”

“No shit!” Katsuki barked. Todoroki raised a finger to his lips to shush him and nodded at Izuku, who had grunted in his sleep.

“I’m just saying, your efforts aren’t unseen. We know you’ve been working hard, and that this has been weighing on you for a long time. If it weren’t for you, Midoriya might not have listened to us.”

“You don’t know shit,” Katsuki grumbled, averting his eyes. Katsuki was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He wasn’t good at this shit, and Todoroki knew it, so why wouldn’t he shut up?

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. We can change the topic,” Todoroki said, as if he could read Katsuki’s mind.

“Or we could stop fucking talking altogether,”

Todoroki smiled and nodded, returning his gaze to Izuku. Katsuki’s eyes followed and he frowned.

“He’s such a fucking idiot,” Katsuki muttered, leaning forward in his chair and resting his chin on his hand. Todoroki chuckled.

“He is certainly reckless,” Todoroki nodded, “I’m disappointed to learn he felt he had to keep such a big secret. But, he is my friend, and I will continue to be as supportive as I can. He would do the same for us.”

“No, he’d do more, and end up getting himself fucking killed."

“That’s…" Todoroki frowned, "probably true."

They were quiet for a few minutes, and then Todoroki fucking piped up again, much to Katsuki’s dismay.

“I know Midoriya appreciated what you said,” his voice was soft.

“Words don’t matter. Actions do,” Katsuki’s response was immediate.

“Well your actions have spoken clearly. “You're a better person than you think you are, Bakugou.”

Katsuki whipped his head to glare at Todoroki with an insult on his tongue, but he found himself speechless instead, staring with an incredulous look on his face. He mentally kicked himself for it.

“I just hope you know that, too,” Todoroki offered a half-smile.

Katsuki was frustratingly taken aback. He averted his eyes and looked at the ground with a scowl. That damn fucking Half and Half.

Todoroki thankfully shut his mouth after that. Katsuki wasn’t sure how long they sat together in silence. It wasn’t until the sun had set and the room began to fill with darkness that he heard Todoroki rise from his seat.

“I’m going to go lie down. You should, too,” Todoroki said plainly.

Katsuki sighed. He was right, but there was a sickeningly uneasy feeling in his gut whenever he thought about leaving that he just couldn’t shake.

“I…I can’t,” he whispered.

“Okay.”

Todoroki patted his shoulder again, and Katsuki didn’t push him away this time.

“Thanks,” Katsuki shrugged, “for the blanket or whatever.”

Todoroki nodded. He left the door cracked behind him on his way out.

Katsuki pulls the blanket around himself and reclines in his chair, putting his feet up on Todoroki’s abandoned one. It’s really fucking uncomfortable, but Katsuki knows it would be impossible to sleep if he were anywhere else.

After too many attempts to reposition himself comfortably, Katsuki groans and sits up straight, turning his head to watch Izuku again. He’s still sleeping soundly.

Katsuki leans forward and, without thinking, brushes his hand through Izuku’s hair, pushing back a few stray curls. The moonlight flickering through the blinds illuminates his face, and Katsuki thinks that, somehow, this is the most peaceful he’s seen Izuku in ages.

Katsuki can’t remember the last time Izuku wasn’t at least slightly on edge. He is always looking over his shoulder, as if he’s expecting the enemy to be watching. He spends every minute of his free time training or muttering to himself about battle strategies. The nerd doesn’t even know the meaning of the word “relax.”

Katsuki slides his hand down to cup Izuku’s cheek. His skin is soft and warm, just like last time, and he can’t help but feel an awful sense of dèjá vu. He stays that way for a few moments, just reveling in the fact that Izuku is really here. This isn't a dream, he’s finally here, and Katsuki will never fucking let him go again.

When Katsuki reluctantly moves to pull away, Izuku reaches up to grab his hand, nuzzling into it.

Katsuki is startled, as Izuku is seemingly still asleep. He brushes Izuku’s cheekbone with the backs of his fingers, and swears he sees the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“You’re a dumbass,” Katsuki mumbles, propping his elbow on the bed to rest his head in his free hand.

“I can hear you, Kacchan.”

Katsuki jolts up in surprise to see Izuku staring at him with one eye cracked open and a smirk on his lips.

“Shit, did I wake you?” Katsuki tries again to pull his arm away, but Izuku holds on tight, as if Katsuki is his lifeline and he’s barely hanging on.

“D-don’t go,” Izuku stutters, burying his face in Katsuki’s hand. Katsuki caresses his cheek again and frowns when he finds wetness there.

“Are you crying?” Katsuki asks, though he’s not sure why, because he already knows the answer.

“N-no,” Izuku sniffles. Katsuki rolls his eyes and sighs.

“Hey, look at me,” Katsuki whispers, lifting his free hand to Izuku’s other cheek and turning his head to face him.

Izuku whimpers, holding Katsuki’s arms in a vice grip as he looks up. His eyes are sunken and glassy, overflowing with tears that Katsuki wipes away with his thumbs.

Fuck, he looks like a fucking zombie. His face is paler than usual and littered with scratches, and heavy, dark circles line his eyes. Katsuki suppresses a sudden urge to wrap him in his arms and hold him tight.

“What’s wrong?” Katsuki murmurs, stroking his cheeks in what he hopes is a soothing manner.

Izuku’s face contorts and a new wave of tears begin to fall.

“I-I’m so s-sorry Kacchan,” he snivels.

Katsuki holds his face tighter.

“I told you, we get it. Don’t beat yourself up, you’ve already done plenty of that.”

Izuku chokes a laugh through a broken sob and Katsuki counts it as a small victory.

“I a-am pretty messed up, h-huh?” Izuku hiccups, “but so are you.”

“Tch. I’m fine,” Katsuki lies, feeling a familiar twinge of pain in his side.

“I kn-know you better than that, Kacchan,” Izuku meets Katsuki’s gaze, “d-don’t think I didn’t see you bleeding back there.”

“I was bleeding. I’m not anymore, see?” Katsuki points to his newly applied bandages, “The old lady patched me up.”

Recovery Girl had given Katsuki a thorough scolding for tearing his wounds. Something about being too reckless, to stop throwing himself in front of danger because isn't it hypocritical of you to tell Midoriya to look after himself, but you won't do the same? That had pissed Katsuki off to no end, but he’d accepted her help anyway.

“Y-you could’ve hurt yourself-”

“But I didn’t! Quit worrying about everyone else,” Katsuki looks Izuku dead in the eyes, “think about your goddamn self for once.”

Izuku shakes his head frantically.

“I can’t. I said so many terrible things I- I h-have to apologize-,” Izuku tries to get up, but Katsuki is lightning fast as he moves to sit on the bed in front of him, gripping his shoulders to hold him in place.

“You can do that later. You need to fucking relax. Did you forget you were beaten to a pulp?” Katsuki reminds him.

“Kacchan, I’m f-”

“Don’t fucking say you’re fine! You’re not, and you know it.”

“It doesn’t matter, Kacchan!” Izuku shouts,“I can’t- I can’t just sit here while everyone else is-”

“Everyone is safe,” Katsuki lightly shakes him, “and we’re safer if we're together.”

Izuku presses the heels of his hands to his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” Izuku repeats himself. His voice is shaking. “I ne-”

“Shut the fuck up. You matter,” Katsuki says firmly, pulling Izuku’s hands away and holding onto them.

Izuku weakly lifts his head to meet Katsuki’s eyes. He looks taken aback, and even more exhausted than before, but Izuku is just as stubborn as Katsuki is, and Katsuki can tell he still has an argument left in him.

“Izuku,” Katsuki watches Izuku's eyes widen as he utters his name for a second time. It feels foreign on his tongue, but he knows the weight it carries, and he'll say it over and over if it makes Izuku happy.

Katsuki pushes back the hair that’s fallen in front of Izuku's face and knocks their foreheads together.

“Izuku,” he repeats, “ You fucking matter,” there’s a sharpness to Katsuki’s tone he hadn’t intended, but he can tell Izuku gets the message. He swears he sees the color return to Izuku’s bloodshot eyes before they squeeze shut, overflowing with new tears.

Izuku buries his head in Katsuki’s chest and wails. Katsuki immediately wraps his arms around him and pulls him into a tight embrace, ignoring the aching pain in his injured shoulder and side.

“I-I’m s-so sorry,” Izuku’s entire body shakes as he clings to Katsuki. Katsuki holds him tighter, rubbing gentle circles on his back.

“Shh, it’s okay. Everything’s okay,” Katsuki murmurs, trying his best to soothe him, but Izuku only cries harder. Katsuki’s own eyes begin to burn.

“It’s s’not o-okay, Kac-chan,” Izuku stutters.

“Nobody is mad at you."

“Th-they should b-be,” Izuku insists miserably

“Well they’re not.”

“I think All M-might is.”

“Haah?! The fuck kind of reason does All Might have to be mad at you?” Katsuki is baffled. “I should fucking clock him in the face again.”

“Y-you punched All Might?!” Izuku lifts his chin to stare incredulously at Katsuki.

“Damn right I did. But that’s beside the point. Why the fuck’s he mad?”

Izuku hides his face again, his voice muffled by Katsuki’s now damp shirt and his own sobs, “I w-was so mean t-to him. I told him I d-didn’t need him anymore and r-ran away, I-”

“Breathe, Dek- Izuku,” Katsuki whispers, brushing Izuku’s cheek with his fingers as Izuku begins to hyperventilate. “Breathe. He’s not mad, he’s probably just worried.” He better not be fucking mad.

“I-I have to t-talk to him too,”

“It can wait. Right now you need to fucking rest.”

They stay that way for a while, wrapped in the safety of each other’s arms as Izuku’s cries slowly start to dissipate. At some point, Katsuki isn’t sure when, traitorous tears start to roll down his own face. Izuku notices before he does, feeling the sudden moisture on his shoulder, and he tells him so.

“I’m not fucking crying,” Katsuki grumbles, though his voice is hoarse.

“It’s o-okay Kacchan,”

“Shit,” Now they’re both blubbering idiots.

Izuku squeezes Katsuki tighter as they cry together. Katsuki tries not to wince as he returns the gesture, his shoulder screaming in protest, but Izuku notices. Of course he fucking notices.

“K-Kacchan-,” Izuku’s voice is laced with unnecessary concern as he immediately loosens his grip and starts to pull back.

“Don’t,” Katsuki growls, rubbing his eyes, “Don’t fucking worry about me.”

Izuku sniffles and shakes his head, “I c-can’t help it.”

Katsuki heaves a sigh. “I know.”

Izuku places his shaky, scarred hands on either side of Katsuki’s face in a gentle caress that makes Katsuki’s heart fucking squeeze. When he finally lifts his eyes, he finds Izuku looking at him with a wobbly smile. His cheeks are tear-stained and there's a trace of something haunted behind his eyes, but it's undeniable that a weight has lifted from his shoulders.

Katskui quirks his lips in a half smile. Fuck, he’d missed Izuku.

Izuku yawns and lies back in the bed. “I’m tired again.”

“Well, get some sleep then, nerd,” Katsuki moves to slide back in his chair, but Izuku stops him, grabbing his hand.

“Wait! I- could-” Izuku bites his lip, “could you...stay with me?”

Katsuki squeezes his hand. “I’m not going anywhere, nerd. Someone has to keep your ass in line," he smirks.

Izuku laughs, the first real laugh Katsuki has heard in ages, and Katsuki thinks it might be his favorite sound.

“No, I mean here, next to me,” Izuku scoots over in the bed and pats the space next to him.

“I don’t think-”

“Just until I fall asleep,” Izuku pleads, “...please?”

Katsuki finally relents and slides in next to him. Izuku looks relieved, draping the blanket around them both and curling up to Katsuki’s uninjured side. Katsuki wraps his arm around Izuku’s waist, careful not to dislodge the bandages there. He briefly wonders why this feels so natural.

Izuku’s voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks next. “I- I’m scared, Kacchan.”

“I know. But everything’s gonna be fine."

“I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me.”

“No one’s gonna get hurt. We’re gonna figure this out, and we’re gonna figure it out together.”

“I really shouldn’t be here,” Izuku sighs.

“Shut the fuck up. You really wanna be out there? Where people are lookin’ to wring your neck at every turn?”

“Of course not! But that’s exactly why I should be. No one here is safe while I’m around.”

Izuku startles when Katsuki suddenly grabs his chin and lifts it up with his free hand to make Izuku look him in the eyes “Bullshit. I already told you, you can’t win this alone. So stop trying."

Izuku swallows hard, on the verge of tears again. Katsuki tucks Izuku's head under his chin.

"Saving people is how we win, remember? That means you gotta let us save you sometimes, too." Katsuki holds Izuku tight as he cries, gently combing his fingers through thick green curls.

“You should be here," Katsuki continues, "you belong here, Izuku." With me, he adds, but only in his thoughts.

Izuku stills and lifts his head from Katsuki’s chest to stare at him with wide, curious eyes. He's no longer crying. “Kacchan?”

“What?” Katsuki is confused as he watches Izuku’s cheeks flush a deep red.

“I belong with...you?”

Fuck, did he say that out loud?

Katsuki suddenly becomes very aware of their proximity and feels his own face heat.

Their faces are already inches apart, and Izuku is coming closer, cupping Katsuki's cheeks with freezing cold hands. He's close enough that Katsuki can feel Izuku’s heartbeat, his breath on his nose, and fuck, when did their legs tangle together?

Izuku’s thumb lightly strokes his cheekbone and Katsuki finds himself inadvertently leaning into his touch. His breath catches in his throat when he finally meets his gaze. Izuku’s eyes are soft and warm and he’s smiling, a real smile that is secretly Katsuki’s favorite, one that he hasn't seen in far too long. He decides he would sooner die than see it extinguished ever again.

He's embarrassed by his accidental confession, but something about the way Izuku is looking at him, with that soft gaze full of light and wonderment Katsuki knows is reserved only for him, makes the anxiety melt away. The eyes that used to infuriate him now leave him feeling warm and safe, like he has a place in this world, and he realizes there's nowhere he'd rather fucking be than right by Izuku's side.

"Did you mean that?" Izuku whispers, breaking him from his reverie.

“Yeah. Stay with me,” Katsuki grazes his fingers across Izuku's cheek. "...please."

Izuku's smile is breathtaking. It lights a fire in Katsuki's chest.

"I will," Izuku breathes, leaning in to close the distance between them.

Their lips meet halfway in a desperate kiss and a jolt of electricity courses through Katsuki's body. Izuku's hands tangle into Katsuki's hair and Katsuki cradles his face as they explore each other for the first time. It's messy and uncoordinated, but Izuku's lips are soft and inviting and nothing has ever felt so fucking right.

Katsuki's hold on Izuku's waist tightens, pulling him closer, but it's still not close enough. They've been through a decade of miscommunication and separation, unchecked feelings, and the debilitating fear of losing each other. Now that Izuku is here, safe in his arms, Katsuki wants nothing more than to stay in the warmth of this moment forever, to melt into each other and never let go again.

"K-Kacchan," Izuku pants as he slowly pulls away. Oh, right, breathing.

He presses his forehead to Katsuki's as they gasp for air, and they cling to each other as if the other could disappear at any moment.

Katsuki's head is spinning as he looks at Izuku. His cheeks have flushed deeper, lips kissed red and swollen, eyes blown wide as he stares in amazement.

"I missed you," Izuku whispers between heavy breaths.

"Me too,"

Katsuki tucks Izuku's head into the crook of his neck and holds him tight.

“I am….glad to be back,” Izuku murmurs, “it was terrifying out there. I was so exhausted."

No shit, Katsuki thinks.

"Do you want to...talk about it?"

"I-" Izuku pauses, considering. His voice is small when he says, "Maybe later. I don't...I don't want to think about it right now."

Katsuki laces the fingers of one hand with Izuku's and squeezes.

"Okay. But, uh, I'm here if you do. Want to talk or whatever." Katsuki tries his best to sound encouraging. Izuku tilts his head up and nods with a smile.

“Okay.”

There's still so much Katsuki wants to say, but he can't put it into words. He's always been better with actions. He thinks back on all that he said before Izuku passed out in his arms, and wonders if it was enough.

Out of the corner of his eye, Katsuki notices Izuku peering up at him.

“What are you staring at, nerd?” Katsuki smirks as Izuku averts his eyes, color blooming on his face again.

“I- I’m not, I just- thank you, Kacchan.”

"For what?"

“For everything.”

Katsuki shrugs. “I didn’t do shit."

"Yes you did," Izuku brushes a lock of hair behind Katsuki's ear, "you're here right now. You listened, you encouraged me, you made me feel safe enough to come back here. I wouldn’t have had the strength without you.”

Katsuki is at a loss for words.

"Todoroki was right, you know," Izuku says softly, "you're better than you think you are."

Katsuki feels his face flush and looks away. But then it dawns on him.

"You were listening to us?"

"Uh- just a little...only bits and pieces."

"You were awake? Why the hell didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want to interrupt you," Izuku shrugs. "You and Todoroki never talk, it seemed important. Plus, I was so out of it I thought I was dreaming at first."

"So you were just eavesdropping like a creep?" He teases, snickering when Izuku buries his face in embarrassment.

"I'd rather talk to you than that Half and Half bastard, dumbass," Katsuki ruffles Izuku's hair.

"Sorry, Kacchan."

"Quit apologizing."

Normally he probably would be pissed, but there isn’t even a trace of anger in him right now.

"I'm not the only one who's reckless, by the way," Izuku playfully nudges Katsuki.

"I'm not fucking reckless."

Izuku frowns. "Kacchan, you were stabbed. And you tore open your wounds trying to get to me when you should've been taking it easy. You took off into battle without a second thought."

"Sounds familiar," Katsuki glares at him.

"I know. I admit I don't always think things through….and sometimes I think too much. I never put myself first. You made me realize that. I'm...going to try to work on it. But you can't deny that you do it sometimes too."

Katsuki is silent again.

"And when was the last time you ate? Or slept somewhere other than a tiny chair? You tell me I need to take better care of myself, but you don't do the same."

"I'm fine." Katsuki insists, but Izuku knows him better than he knows himself and sees right through the lie.

Katsuki sighs. Deep down, he knows Izuku and the old lady are right. Sometimes... he can be a dumbass and a hypocrite.

"My body…I told you, it moved on it's own. I just saw you in the air and fucking panicked. You were about to die," Katsuki’s voice shakes, “You were about to die, and it was like… like my entire fucking life flashed before my eyes. There was so much I needed to say to you, I couldn't handle the thought of losing you, Izuku. Especially before- before I had the chance to-, " Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut and grunts in an effort to hold back tears that were threatening to fall.

Katsuki feels Izuku's gentle touch on his cheek again and meets his gaze.

"I know. It's okay. Let's just agree that we're both idiots and try to be better, together. If not for ourselves, then for each other. I can't stand the thought of losing you either, Kacchan," Izuku's eyes are impossibly soft

"I really do appreciate everything you said, Kacchan. It means so much to me. I know it's not easy for you to do that."

"I meant every fucking word," Katsuki says firmly.

"I know. And I forgave you a long time ago, Kacchan. Yeah, things were rocky for a while, but I see you. I see how you've changed, and how much effort you've been putting in. I feel safest and strongest when I'm with you. You're the most amazing person I've ever known, and you always will be."

Izuku's eyes well up with tears again as he smiles, and Katsuki feels like his heart could burst out of his chest. He presses a gentle kiss to Izuku's palm and cups his face, tracing his lips with his thumb.

"You make me stronger," Katsuki stares deep into his eyes.

Katsuki feels his brain short circuit as Izuku presses a gentle, sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth. Katsuki holds him there as he pulls away, chasing his lips with his own.

This kiss is softer and less hurried, but just as passionate. They're completely enveloped in each other as they revel in the fact that this is real. There’s nowhere in the world either of them would rather be. Katsuki didn’t realize just how badly he needs Izuku until he was gone, and thinks that, maybe, Izuku feels the same way.

It feels like it’s been an eternity when they slowly break apart, and Katsuki can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

Izuku lays his head on Katsuki's chest and cuddles up to his side. Katsuki idly strokes his back, just relishing the moment.

Fuck, he’d missed Izuku.

"I don't mind if- uh, if you keep calling me Deku, by the way," Izuku mutters..

"You don't like it when I say your name?"

"No! No, that's not it- I mean it is a little weird, but uh- I like it? Hearing it in your voice, I mean," Izuku rambles on, and Katsuki finds that he's even missed that too.

"I just, um, I mean- Deku is fine too. It has a different meaning for us both now, you know? It stopped being an insult a long time ago. And, uh, it feels, um...special, I guess? I don't know. My point is, either is fine. I don't want you to feel like...like you're disrespecting me, or something," Izuku's face is bright red as he notices Katsuki smirking at him.

"You're such a nerd," Katsuki laughs when Izuku scowls, and presses a kiss to his forehead, “I’ll call you whatever the fuck you want me to call you.”

“Either is good. I promise.”

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see then, huh?”

"Yeah," Izuku smiles, then his brows furrow and he pauses. "Katsuki."

They both frown and Katsuki shakes his head.

"Nope. Too weird. I'd rather be Kacchan forever,” Katsuki grimaces.

“I think so too,” Izuku laughs.

"You should sleep, nerd." Katsuki murmurs.

"Mm, yeah,” Izuku yawns, “You should too, Kacchan."

"Yeah, yeah."

"But you'll still be here when I wake up, right?" Izuku looks up at him with pleading eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Izuku breathes a sigh of relief and snuggles closer.

"Tomorrow...tomorrow is gonna be hard."

"Nah. I'll beat the shit out of anyone who tries anything funny. Like I said, we'll get through this.”

"Together?"

"Together."

-------

bonus:

Sunlight is filtering through the blinds of the room's tiny window when Katsuki awakens. He feels more rested than he has in ages. Izuku is still curled up at his side with his head on his chest, snoring softly, and Katsuki can’t help but smile.

“Nice, bro!” someone whispers from the doorway. Katsuki’s head whips up to see Shitty Hair and Sparky, grinning at him with their thumbs up.

Katsuki is filled with white hot rage as his face flushes. If it wasn't for the fact that Izuku has him pinned, he would beat the shit out of those assholes.

“See ya, loverboy!” Kaminari whistles as they bolt out of the room.

Oh, they are dead meat when Katsuki’s hands are free.

--

A/N: I wrote this while listening to "I Will Follow You into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie and "Make You Mine (acoustic)" by PUBLIC-highly recommend them if you're looking to yearn lmao

The large block of italicized text is meant to be a flashback- I hope that was clear :')

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!! Feedback/reblogs are appreciated as always <3

Also- shout out to @sheiireen for her very helpful advice on this. She's amazingly talented, you should check her out!!

[hlizr50]

Labor Day Bonus Update: The Raven and the Songbird

Nothing like a holiday giving me an excuse to post the next chapter early. It's one of my absolute favorites.

Read on AO3

Chapter 5

Gwyn yawned, her entire form stretching and tightening. She knew it wouldn’t go unnoticed by Nesta and Emerie, but she just smiled serenely. She had needed this – time to talk and laugh and enjoy good food with her two closest friends in the world. The fae lights were dim, casting the private library in dusky shadow. Book spines were barely visible on the shelves, but she was content to sit and enjoy the conversation. She sighed before turning her focus to her Valkyrie sisters sitting on the floor, finding Nesta with a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“What?”

The eldest Archeron patted her hand on a tufted woolen floor pillow, green like a spring meadow. “Sit, Gwyneth. We need to talk.” Unease coiled in her stomach, but she slid down from the couch, clutching another throw pillow to her chest.

“What do we need to talk about?” Gwyn’s voice was tinier than she’d intended, and she knew the question was ridiculous as soon as she asked it.

“You’re tired. You’re sad. Nesta knocked you on your ass today,” Emerie answered, concern glowing in her dark gaze.

“That doesn’t mean something is wrong with me,” Gwyn giggled, but she knew her mirth was unconvincing. “You both are skilled fighters. Maybe Nesta has just gotten better than me.”

“I haven’t and you know it.”

Gwyn turned her attention to a very interesting tassel on the pillow she held. She could feel the pressure stinging her eyes and tried so hard to push down the tears that had so quickly threatened. She felt gentle fingers at her chin, pulling her gaze until she met Nesta’s gray stare.

“Gwyn. Talk to us. You are our sister. We love you. We’re worried about you.”

Her sisters. The knowledge that she had Nesta and Emerie had kept her going these past weeks, kept her stubborn heart and eyes from giving up. And now it was that care and comfort that unraveled her. She felt the hot trickle down her cheeks as Nesta’s calloused fingers brushed tendrils of hair away from her face. But she couldn’t say the words. She wasn’t one of those females that needed a male to be happy and thrive. She was a powerful warrior, strong and skilled.

“Is it Azriel, Gwyn?” The voice came from her other side, along with a feather-light brush of fingertips down her back. Emerie. Gwyn blinked and took three steadying breaths, allowing the patience and care from her sisters wash over her. It took a few moments before she felt she could form the words she needed.

“He started avoiding me, after the necklace,” her face cooled when Nesta removed her hands and reached down to grasp one of her own. “I let it go on for a few days, but I missed him. We were friends, and he… he helped me when I couldn’t sleep. Sometimes we would talk, most times we would train. After we found out about the necklace he stopped coming out to the ring at night. He would come to the door, and when he saw I was there he would leave. So I cornered him one day after training. It was all so stupid and I just wanted things to go back to normal.”

“What did you say to him?” Emerie asked, her voice soft as velvet.

“I told him that the necklace was a stupid thing to do, but we all do stupid things. I said that Elain and I had both deserved better, but I knew he would be better. I told him that I missed him, that all was forgiven, and then I asked if things could go back to normal.” Gwyn looked back up to Nesta, then turned to Emerie. “He said we were friends, and that everything would go back to normal.” She took a shuddering breath, earning a squeeze on her hand.

“And then he just… disappeared.”

She felt the burning return to her eyes and her throat, recalling that night in the rain when she had desperately wished he would come to her.

“That’s when you started zoning out at training. And punching the post until you were bruised and bleeding,” the Illyrian female realized.

“I knew it was bad when Cassian made you stop,” Nesta mused.

“Twice,” Gwyn confirmed, tears welling again. “I trained hard during the day, harder at night. The effort and pain helped distract me from the loss of his friendship… and from the nightmares.” She stared down at their interlace hands, noting how the low light made Nesta’s and Emerie’s skin contrast so deeply to hers and letting the tears fall in earnest.

“I thought they were better, Gwyn.” The worry lacing Nesta’s voice was thick, and suddenly the priestess felt guilty for keeping it from her… from them. She couldn’t look at them, but clutched their hands.

“They were, but now… it’s been really bad these last few days.” Gwyn sniffled and pulled her hands away from the comfort of her chosen family, opting instead to clutch the tasseled pillow to her chest again. She needed that grip, as if it were the only thing that could hold her together. “Almost a week ago I was in the training ring at night. It had been a difficult day, my hands were throbbing, Merrill was being… well, Merrill. It was raining when I walked out the door, but I needed time and space so I went out and sat in the middle and just let the rain wash everything away. Azriel came to the doorway, the first time since I’d cornered him that day. And… he barely spoke to me. I even said I’d had nightmares almost every day. And… and he told me I should go inside and then he just left.”

Gwyn tucked her knees up to the pillow against her chest and covered her face with her hands. Her body shook, much like it had that night when he’d left her – when something had shifted. Her throat felt so tight around her words. “It’s like something broke then. I stopped going to the training ring, and started working extra to distract myself. And the nightmares,“ she sobbed. She wasn’t ready to admit the terror of her changing dreams, but she was also desperate to tell someone how she had been suffering. “I have the same one every night – of that day at Sangravah. But… but when the general is done, when he tells the other males to continue taking from me…” Her breath sawed in and out of her and she could feel herself tremble. She could barely make her voice work as she uttered the terrible turn that her dreams had taken.

“He doesn’t come for me,” she whispered. The air was so still that she could feel Nesta’s sharp gasp stealing it from the space. “That moment when Azriel slaughtered them – when he saved me – no longer exists. And I have to face the terror of knowing what is coming. The fear and the pain and the horror and the desperation… it all feels just as real as it did that day.”

A pair of strong arms crushed her, and then a second embrace. Gwyn let go of the pain and the fear of those nights alone, afraid of sleep and unable to seek comfort from the only person who had helped keep those dreams at bay. Fingers combed through her hair, stroked up and down her back, soothing her as she cried.

That was all there was, for how long she didn’t know. She just knew heat in her cheeks, trembling, comforting hands at her shoulders, on her back, and in her hair. Then fingers gripped her wrists to pull her hands away from her face. She was sure her skin was red and splotchy, but she looked up to find Nesta’s own watery gaze.

“Gwyn, we will always come for you. All of us, including Azriel. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” the priestess answered with a nod.

“Good. As for the rest of this,” Nesta wiped her eyes and donned an expression not so unlike the days when she was brimming with the power of death. “Azriel is a fucking idiot.” Emerie burst out laughing, causing Gwyn to join with a chuckle of her own.

“I’m so glad I don’t prefer males.” The winged Valkyrie’s eyes glittered with mirth and concern, earning a nose-crinkling smile. Nesta pulled Gwyn’s attention back, pushing her jaw with a finger.

“Azriel is an idiot, but he cares for you. I’m certain of that. I haven’t known him too terribly long, but Cassian has. He’s different with you.”

“Maybe that isn’t a good thing.” Gwyn shrugged. She had thought so, too. But now he seemed to treat her with the same brooding aloofness that he reserved for practical strangers.

“No, I don’t think you understand,” Nesta insisted, reaching up to brush the wetness away from her cheeks. “Cassian and I have had this conversation more times than I can even count. ‘Berdara made Az laugh today’. ‘He couldn’t stop grinning today’. ‘I’ve never heard him banter like that’.”

“Why do you have so many conversations about that?” Gwyn couldn’t help but laugh at the strangeness of that thought, that Nesta and the general would be so invested in her interactions with the spymaster.

“That’s not even the point, Gwyneth,” Nesta huffed. Gwyn stuck her tongue out, still feeling Emerie’s hands softly at her back. “I’m going to kick Azriel’s ass back into line, but…” The priestess could see that Nesta was trying to choose her words, lips pursing  and eyes staring above her. Then those icy eyes came back, full of determination.

“Do you care for him, Gwyn? Or, I suppose, how do you care for him?”

She just stared into Nesta’s eyes for a long moment, trying to find the right things to say. How to express what was churning in her heart. “Of course I care for him. He has become a dear friend.” Her friend’s gaze didn’t falter, daring her to say what she hadn’t admitted to anyone, not even to herself.

“And?”

Gwyn jerked her head, surprised that Emerie also seemed to know that there was more. The Illyrian’s countenance held that same caring determination, waiting with barely concealed expectation. Gwyn could only sigh.

“I… I don’t know. I trust him. Implicitly. He’s the only male I’ve never feared. And he’s beautiful, of course.”

“Yes, he certainly is,” Nesta sighed wistfully. Gwyn giggled and swatted her friend playfully on the shoulder.

“I feel… drawn to him, like we understand each other’s darkness. I should be terrified of him, theoretically, but I can’t be. And if… I don’t know what romance is supposed to be, what a relationship looks like. But I think, if he wanted to try, I would say yes. Without hesitation. Even after what happened at Sangravah,” she admitted. “But first and foremost… I just want his friendship. If that’s the only thing I can have then I’ll be happy.” And that was the truth. She would have him in her life, in whatever capacity. His absence was far too difficult to bear.

An enormous yawn pushed out of her lungs and she clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide. Nesta and Emerie laughed, Nesta pushing herself to her feet before offering her hands to Gwyn.

“You need to sleep. Hopefully tonight will be more restful,” she said as she pulled Gwyn to her feet and swiftly gathered her into a hug. She felt Emerie at her back, enveloping her as well. Gwyn could only smile and release a contented sigh, reveling in the love of her chosen sisters. She felt lighter, relieved to have shared the struggles she’d been facing. But then she yawned again, the exhaustion in her bones suddenly the only thing she could feel. Her eyelids drooped and she felt herself losing her battle with sleep even as she stood there, still wrapped in that Valkyrie embrace. As her body became heavy, yet weightless, she couldn’t comprehend the words she heard.

“Ready to crash boys night, Em? I might actually kill him.”

~~~

Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys lounged in the study, each nursing crystal glasses with varying amounts of amber liquid. Azriel studied the cut angles in his glass, the firelight reflecting kaleidoscopes of brightness off the liquor. He’d already had more to drink than usual, not typically one to lose his wits from alcohol. But tonight he had partaken in a bit extra, perhaps in the vain hope that the libations would settle his mind. The roaring thoughts still stormed through him from earlier in the day – guilt, stubbornness, anger, shame.

Of course, the alcohol staunched none of it.

“You seem particularly broody tonight, Az.” Cassian’s amused voice broke through that cyclone and Azriel fixed him with a narrow-eyed glare. His brother just smirked victoriously at him, knowing the truth in his observation. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with that sleepover at the house, would it?”

“Sleepover at the house?” Rhys turned his starlit gaze toward the shadowsinger, but Azriel didn’t have any intention of answering. Cassian, however, so enjoyed irritating him.

“A certain redhead priestess has been acting strangely and Nesta is determined to figure it out,” he drawled, pointed amber gaze fixed on the spymaster. “I think it has something to do with our tall, dark, and brooding brother here.”

“Gwyneth Berdara?” Azriel flicked his eyes toward the High Lord whose brows were arched in surprise. “Why would that have anything to do with you?”

“I’m pretty sure,” Azriel groaned when Cassian began to answer, sinking deeper into the velvet tufts of the oversized armchair, “that the two of them want to be friendlier than friends.”

“Gwyn and I have a professional, platonic relationship. Nothing more,” Azriel growled. He wasn’t in any sort of headspace to deal with Cassian’s ribbing, or to explain it away to Rhys. He looked up to find the Illyrian general had set down his glass and was leaning back casually, crossing his arms.

“Is that so?” Azriel wanted to slap that smug grin off his face. “Is that why you can never keep your eyes off her at training? Is that what’s happening when you grin at her when she gives your shit right back to you? When she makes you throw your head back and laugh?” He could feel the heat rising up his neck and into his cheeks.

“Laugh? Out loud?” The High Lord balked and Azriel rolled his eyes.

“I laugh, thank you very much.”

“Not like that, you don’t,” Cassian countered. Azriel just shook his head as his brother turned to Rhys. “You should see it, Rhys. I never thought I’d see the day – “

“WHERE IS HE?!” A female voice echoed from down the hall.

“Nesta?” Rhys wondered aloud.

“Where is that idiotic overgrown bat? I swear on the Cauldron I’m going to kill him.”

“Yup, that’s Nesta,” Cassian confirmed with a groan. “What the fuck did I do now? I wasn’t even at the house –“

The study doors burst open as Nesta pushed through, gray eyes shimmering with rage. Azriel leaned forward as her gaze fell on him.

“YOU.”

“Me?”

“Him?” Cassian gawked, but then grinned wickedly. “Oh, this is a nice change. I could get used to this.”

“Keep your mouth shut or you’re next,” Nesta snapped as she strode in front of Azriel’s chair. “Azriel, would you care to tell me why I just spent an hour comforting one Gwyneth Berdara while she sobbed in my arms? Any ideas?” His eyes grew wide and his face went slack, unable to comprehend exactly what was happening.

“Nothing to contribute, Shadowsinger? How fucking convenient. Maybe you could tell me why you avoided her even after you told her that things would go back to normal and that you were friends? Or perhaps you could explain why you left her alone in the rain the one time you did actually talk to her, even after she told you her nightmares were bad again?”

“I –“ He didn’t get a chance. Nesta stepped closer.

“Not done, Az. Not even close. Maybe you have an explanation for her working herself into exhaustion at the library to avoid time alone? Or the reason she doesn’t go to the training ring at night anymore?” Azriel just stared, dumbfounded at what she was saying. He pressed himself back into the chair as the honey-haired female placed her hands on the armrests and leaned in so far they breathed the same air.

“Tell me, Azriel,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion and ice, “why every night for the last week she has dreamed of Sangravah. And in that nightmare when that general is finished hurting her, she has to feel the soul-crushing terror of watching the next soldier take his place because you don’t come to save her.” And Nesta pulled a hand back and slapped him.

Azriel knew his eyes were wide as saucers as the breath punched out of him. He barely registered the tingle of pain in his cheek, absorbing what she had told him. Gwyn’s nightmares. Every night. And they had twisted into something even more horrifying.

How could any part of her think that he wouldn’t come for her?

He looked back to Nesta who had backed away. Cassian had risen to comfort her, brushing tears away from her cheeks and murmuring into her ear. Azriel got to his feet and took a measured step toward them.

“Nesta, I –“

“You care for her, don’t you?”

Azriel knew they could see the wetness in his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He had been wrong to leave her, wrong about so many things. And he was done denying.

“Of course I do, Nesta. More than I think I can explain right now.”

“Then fix this.” Her voice was colder than his could ever be, a warning that he wouldn’t like what would happen if he didn’t make it right. But he had every intention to.

He was miserable without her.

Azriel gave Nesta a curt nod, turned on his heel, and stalked out of the study. He kept his surprise masked as he passed Emerie, who was leaning in the doorway, also wearing that expression – promising violence for hurting one of their own. He nodded to her, too, acknowledging his part in all of this. Then he practically ran down the hall and through the entrance of the river house, only taking three steps in the night air before taking to the sky.

Straight to the House of Wind.

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[viperbarnes]

The Tie That Binds – [Four of Eight]

[B. Barnes, Soulmate AU]

Summary: HYDRA took everything from you, your life, your future, they even burned off your soulmark to make sure nobody would go looking for you. Now the man they forced you to fix reappears in your life, to make amends and to be ‘of service’.

You know that they made him do all those things, that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is not The Winter Soldier, that he’s innocent. You don’t blame him.

But that doesn’t make seeing him again any easier.

Warnings: Panic attacks, language, talk and depiction of home invasion and abduction, canon level violence, HYDRA levels of torture, angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers.

Note: THANK YOU FOR WAITING!!! I reaaallly hope you enjoy this chapter ;) This one is a little longer, to make up for the shortness of the last chapter. Let me know what you think!!!

<- Prev / Next ->

It’s late, your phone tells you that much.

Blinking quickly awake, you catch your breath and reach immediately for the device, checking the time with a deep frown. You feel as though you’d only just managed to fall asleep, which makes the loud knocking on your door even more annoying.

For several seconds you just sit on your bed and listen. Perhaps it was one of your neighbours, coming home drunk and not realising this wasn’t their place, but then the sound comes again and you have to cross that option off.

The banging was too precise, too sharp to be someone inebriated.

You’re pulling a thick sweater over your head as you make your way through your living room, cautiously. The knocking hadn’t come again, and you wonder if your visitor had left.

You pull open the door quickly, frowning deeper still at why on earth Bucky was on your doorstep at three in the morning. You don’t even manage to take him in properly before he’s stepping forward, his wide, wild eyes sweeping over you, searching.

“I came as soon as we landed, what happened?!” He asks, deep worry filling his voice, his features pinched in panic. You blink in confusion, taking a slight step away from him, but only so that you can properly take in his completely overwhelming appearance.

You’d seen him return from missions with minor scrapes and bruises before, but nothing about his current look was ‘minor’.

A large cut on his forehead that reaches up into his hairline is caked with both drying and still wet blood, the rest of his face filthy with the clear remnants of a brutal fight. You can’t tell if the blood on his lips was from his nose, or if he’d cut there too. Even his uniform is all but ruined, ripped and torn in various places, blood splattered all over his jacket, and even worse, a large gash along his thigh, deep and still weeping.

“Jesus Christ, Bucky!” You exclaim, unable to stop yourself. Bucky’s brows only knit further together and he steps closer.

“Are you alright? I couldn’t call, my phone got– it doesn’t matter, are you okay?” He looks you over again, as if you were the one currently bleeding, but you realise rather suddenly why he had come and why he was so worried.

Your face heats up approximately a million times hotter than the sun.

“I’m– I’m fine, I… That wasn’t– I didn’t mean for you to–!” Your voice cuts out as mortification fills you and you drop your face into your hands. Bucky’s face floods with relief, and then a small amount of displeasure as he seems to fully relax, shoulders sagging a bit under what you can only assume is a very sore body.

“You said to call you ASAP.” He mutters, and you wince.

“I know, I know… But I didn’t mean for it to sound like… I’m such an idiot, I didn’t even think about how it might sound…” You scold yourself, finally lifting your head from your hands to look at him apologetically. Bucky sighs, and you can see him forcefully reigning back his ire.

“As long as you're okay…” He sighs again. You want to apologise again, but a drop of blood seeps out from his hairline and you straighten.

“What the hell happened to you!?” You ask, stepping aside and allowing him to amble into your home.

“Got blown up.” He states shortly. He doesn’t make to elaborate, but you don’t think you need him to.

“It’ll mostly be healed by morning.” He informs you, turning his head to look back at you as he peels off his blue leather jacket. With his back to you now, you can see even more large gashes in his back, having torn right through his clothes and left his back looking as though he’d been lashed.

You can remember the Winter Soldier returning from missions looking just as terrible, the gore was sometimes too much for you to handle.

As if realising for the first time that he’d entered your home, Bucky looks around with a frown and then quickly grabs his ruined jacket back from the countertop he’d just placed it on.

“I should go. Let you get back to sleep.” He tells you, already moving for your door again. You don’t exactly know why, but panic lances through you, making you hurriedly step in his path, blocking him off.

“What? No, no, no, you need to clean up!” You blurt, swallowing thickly when his expression shifts slightly, into something unreadable.

“It’s late… and I’ll be fine.” It sounds less like he’s making his excuse to leave and more like he’s trying to reassure you, his voice softer and more soothing than you’d expected.

You blink at him, and try to figure out why exactly you didn’t want him to go.

Granted in the past few weeks you’d become increasingly close, it was actually something you’d started worrying about. It was as if time ceased to exist when he wasn’t around, only starting up again when you saw each other. More and more you’d started to feel lonely, had started to look at the little scar on the back of your hand and yearn.

And that was scary.

Scarier was the way that any and all reservations you’d had about Bucky had completely dissolved, replaced instead by a sense of warmth, and comfort and safety.

You swallow again, and shake your head.

“I’m not letting you go home like this.” You tell him.

“Seriously, you need to sit down and clean up as soon as possible. You look bad.” You gesture at his head and thigh.

“I’m fine, really–” Bucky begins, but his voice hitches when his knee seems to momentarily give. He catches himself quickly, one hand steadying himself on the wall, and you know he’s lying to you through his teeth because he doesn’t even try biting back the curse he lets out.

“Bucky…” You scold warningly, crossing your arms over your chest, even as he relents. You don’t think about the fact that he’d barely put up a fight, or that when he carefully begins moving again, that he knows his way through your home, even in the dim light.

He groans as he sits down on the toilet seat, looking even worse under the harsh lights of your bathroom.

“Dislocated my knee.” He grunts, eyes keenly trained on you as you move around him, procuring a clean towel and a couple of washcloths from the cupboard, and getting the water in the shower running for him.

“Do you… are you okay to get in yourself, or…?”A sudden sheepishness fills you, having not considered the realities of making him stay, but he shakes his head, and reaches to pull his black shirt off.

Dumbly, you stare for several seconds too long as the fabric is peeled from his body and tossed into your tiny bin, your eyes glued to the broad expanse of his chest and abs, a body you’d seen a hundred times before, but somehow, feels brand new now. Bucky notices, of course he does, but thankfully doesn’t say anything as you hurry to avert your gaze, jumping around to face the mirror, which doesn’t really help.

“I– I have some mens clothing. Some sweatpants and a jumper. I bought them for me, but they’re big enough… they should fit you okay…” You ramble, pretending to tidy up the multitude of things you have on and around your sink.

“Thanks.” He says quietly, grunting softly as he works on his boots.

You pause again, stuck staring, as for the first time since you’d met him two months ago, you were able to see his metal arm completely uncovered.

You’d picked up that it was new, the black and gold colouring of his hand a give away, but he hadn’t said much on the subject. You knew it was a gift from Wakanda, and had theorised from that information that it was made of vibranium.

Your eyes travel over the sleek, geometrically interlocking panels, of how it moved and folded almost organically. You turn back to face him to get a better look, your curiosity too much as you take it in. The fingers were deft and far more slender than the arm you’d worked on, much more like his flesh hand. The joints and knuckles were traced in gold and you realise that the black vibranium (?) was actually encasing a layer of more delicate golden panelling underneath, allowing for both acute fine-motor skill and reinforcement to lend added strength–

You’re shocked from your thoughts when you realise Bucky stares right at you, his movements frozen in place. When you further realise that you’ve moved away from the sink and now hold his forearm in both your hands, you let out a startled gasp, and jump back, releasing him.

You can’t even think of what to begin saying to him, and for several moments you both just stare at one another.

“I– I, um…” You stutter, face growing warm. Bucky slowly tears his eyes from you to look at his arm, but his gaze quickly returns.

“You can… You can have a look, if you want…” He offers, voice even and unreadable. You blink.

“I know you were working on this kind of stuff before… prosthetic limb enhancem–” He continues, but you’re snapped out of your daze, cutting him off quickly.

“No. No thank you.” You say, a little more harshly than you intend, but a cold prickle has begun creeping it’s way up your spine. Bucky closes his mouth and just watches you. You step even further away from him and shake your head.

“I don’t– I don’t ever want to think about any of that again.” Your voice feels stiff, and both embarrassment and discomfort force your decision to exit out of the bathroom, shutting the door closed behind you.

You feel bad about your behaviour, and as you lay in bed and replay the events again and again, it almost makes you want to step out of your bedroom and apologise. It wasn’t as if you’d have to go anywhere. After he’d finished cleaning up, looking a hell of a lot better already but still walking stiffly due to his knee, you’d quietly insisted he at least stay until his leg healed.

Bucky hadn’t argued, and you try not to linger on his seeming willingness to stay. It makes your blood pump a little faster, and your mouth feel both dried and over-salivating at the same time. You think again about your strange relationship, how things were evolving, and about how you could almost trick yourself into thinking you felt tingling on the back of your hand sometimes.

You’d been trying to ignore the feeling, not only because it was insane for you to feel as such about him of all people, but mostly because Bucky’s soulmark was black. Black, meaning he already had a soulmate.

Somewhere out there, Bucky Barnes’ perfect half was waiting for him to find them. Maybe they were even looking for him. The thought feels like a punch in the gut, but it wasn’t the first time recently that you’d had to remind yourself of the fact.

Whatever weird, strange feelings you’d developed, it was all pointless.

You roll over and brush the thoughts from your mind. You’d never fall asleep that way. Sleep didn’t always come so easy to you, and it had already been late when Bucky had arrived, and so you let the warmth of your blankets and the knowledge that your home was a hundred times safer with him inside it lull you into unconsciousness.

---

The Winter Soldier sits bloodied and battered in the chair before you, his chin turned down toward his chest, but his eyes flickering around the room, looking as dark and as menacing as always. His gaze lands on you for mere moments before it’s moving on, clearly not deeming you as a threat.

Around you, the room bustles with an unusual amount of people, talking rapidly and low in Russian. Your shoulder is jabbed harshly and you quickly continue to move forward, gingerly pulling up a nearby stool and moving to place your small bag of tools on the trolley provided.

A doctor of some kind stands on the Soldier’s other side, his gloved hands covered in bright crimson as he attends to a wound you refuse to look at. He seems distracted however, looking back and over his shoulder at another man every so often, gesturing and pointing at his patient’s body.

Perhaps the fact that the Soldier had been watching the room when you entered should have given it away, should have sent alarm bells ringing in your head, but you were so often surrounded by danger these days that the change in demeanour hadn’t made a mark.

You move to take your seat, just as the doctor leans back in and that's when the Soldier snaps.

His broken body lunges to his feet, moving faster than you have time to register, and you don’t even get to see what he does next. The air is knocked out of you, a pain pulsing in your abdomen and chest, and then your back as you suddenly hit the bare concrete wall, crumpling like fabric to the floor.

You’re aware the room has erupted into chaos, of shouting and the clicking off of safeties on guns, but for several minutes you’re only able to clutch at your stomach, gasping for breath. You aren’t hurt, not fatally anyway, there had been no knife in the fist that had swung out and batted you away like a ping pong ball, but the force would surely leave bruising.

You catch a brief glance of the Soldier with his hand around the doctor’s throat, until you realise that his hand is in fact around a scalpel that is lodged inside the doctor’s throat, and you look away again.

The guards and his handler all hurry to diffuse the situation, garbled shouts and threats in a language you don’t understand, as tears begin to prickle your eyes. You were lucky to be alive, all things considered, just unlucky enough to be standing so close when he’d snapped. But although you weren’t dead, or dying, the blow had hurt.

Too soon for your liking a hand is harshly grabbing your bicep and yanking you to your feet.

The room seemed to have returned to how it had been before, the only signs of change being the dead body lying on the ground beside the Soldier, and the cuffs that were strapped around his wrists, holding him to the chair.

The hand holding you pushes you to walk forward, and you dig your heels in.

“No, please, I don’t–” You start, feeling your whole body begin to shake in panic. You’re cut off by another man, Karpov, who steps into your line of sight with a curled lip.

“Fix it.” He demands, accent heavy around his words. Your fear of the man behind him outweighs your fear of him, and you find yourself shaking your head, struggling to try and break free of the tight hold on you.

“No, I can’t, I can’t! Please–” This time you’re cut off by a sharp slap that sends your head flying to the side, the sound ringing in your ears and seemingly bouncing off the walls. Your chin is grabbed roughly and yanked to attention.

“You will fix him. Now.” Karpov spits, releasing you just as the guard holding you jerks you forward once more.

You’re pushed down onto your seat, your trolley of tools shoved beside you, the noise making you jump. For several seconds you can only sob, your whole body shaking violently as you try not to cringe away from the Soldier, who sits impassive now, his eyes turned down, his body slumped.

A harsh prod to your shoulder makes you move, and slowly you begin the process of opening up the metal arm, diagnosing the problems, and fixing them.

Your hands tremble the whole time, and your crying gets softer, but doesn’t stop, the pain in your abdomen pulsing and aching.

You wake with a sharp inhale, but as the dream fades and the morning sets in, you release it with sigh.

The dreams hadn’t become less frequent since Bucky had come into your life, but the power they once held over you, the ability to put you on edge and send your anxiety spiralling for the next few days had all but disappeared.

It was as though the fear of him specifically had become detached from your memories, and regardless of your friendship, you were grateful to leave it behind.

The events of last night begin to trickle back to you as you stretch and groan, waking up properly and considering all that had happened. You don’t know if Bucky had stuck around through the night, or had taken off in the early hours, but you know you still needed to apologise for your reaction in the bathroom, so forcing yourself out from your sheets, you pull on a thick sweater and stuff your feet in your slippers before making your way out of your bedroom.

It was still early in the morning, the sun only just beginning to rise, and you find yourself pausing in your doorway, eyes transfixed on the sight that was Bucky Barnes lit up in the morning light.

He wasn’t asleep, nor did you expect him to be if he had stuck around, but the view is no less breathtaking, the sun illuminating his side profile as if to tease you, to put on full display what you knew you could never have.

Bucky looks up from his phone after a moment, spurring you to move again, absently making for your kitchen.

“Morning.” You greet, mouth dry still.

“Morning. I already got coffee.” Bucky’s words make you pause again, and you blink at the sight you’d obviously missed with ogling him; two large takeaway cups, still in the little cardboard holder.

The cups are marked with the labelling from the cafe you’d often meet at, the one Bucky had revealed was his favorite only after you’d gushed about how good their coffee was.

“Oh,” Is all you’re able to say for a moment, changing paths to move slowly, almost gingerly toward him and the cup and now holds out for you.

“Thanks…” You continue when you’ve carefully plucked the drink from his fingers, and made the decision to take the seat beside him on the sofa.

Bucky takes his own coffee then, and you realise he’d been waiting for you to wake up before he’d started on his own. The thought makes your tummy flutter, but you tell yourself it’s only the memory of your dreams.

“Thanks for letting me stay… I probably shouldn’t have been getting around on my knee as much as I was.” Bucky says after he’s taken a sip from his cup. You watch him scrunch up his nose and fiddle with the lid, pulling it off and placing it aside. He always hated how small the drinking holes were.

“Of course. You looked awful, but I would have felt worse sending you off… especially since you’d come all this way to check on me.” You shrug, shooting him a smile.

Bucky grimaces momentarily.

“Yeah… You had me worried.” He tells you, and your traitorous heart skips a beat.

“You were?”

Bucky frowns dramatically and nods his head.

“Sam almost insisted on coming, just in case.” He informs you, and you have to tsk at yourself.

“Sorry…”

You both sit in amiable silence for a while and you try to hold together your mess of a mind, a scrambled concoction of thoughts and feelings.

“I’m sorry if I brought up any bad memories last night… about…” Bucky speaks first, breaking the quiet and you blink at him for several seconds as his meaning sets in. You duck your head and try to keep from sighing.

“No, I shouldn’t have reacted so sourly.” You shake your head, and begin to fiddle with your coffee cup, tracing the printed sides.

“All I ever wanted to do was help people, I’d studied for almost ten years, and I was going to accept my dream job at Stark Industries… and then HYDRA happened…” You don’t look at him, you can’t. You’d never spoken about this before, not with anyone, even during your ‘trial’ after you’d gotten free.

“I could have fixed my window,” You say, gaining the courage briefly to lift your head and make eye contact. Bucky’s brow furrows, but he doesn’t speak.

“I could fix my shitty shower head, and noise my garbage disposal makes,” You gesture wildly to your kitchen and shake your head.

“But I can’t even pick up a screwdriver without my hands starting to shake.” You sigh, feeling almost lighter for confessing, despite the distress in your words.

Bucky drops his head, looking to his lap as he swallows, before he lifts his eyes again. You suddenly regret bringing it up. You know he felt guilty, you know divulging your reasoning would only make it worse. He opens his mouth, but you speak before him.

“It’s not your fault. Please don’t…” Your words catch in your throat at the way he stares at you, and you have to break away for a second, take a sip of your rink before you can continue.

“Please don’t apologise.”

He doesn’t apologise, but he doesn’t speak either, sitting back further, slumping over slightly. You didn’t want him to feel guilty for it. For anything. He’d done so much for you, had helped you more than he’d ever hurt you, but you aren’t sure how to tell him that.

“I had a dream last night,” You blurt suddenly, catching his attention again. You can see that the hand he doesn’t hold his coffee in is balled up, his whole body rigid and stiff.

“It was… I don’t know if you remember, but you’d come back from some mission, and you looked like shit,” You half chortle at the way he lifts his brow tightly.

“You were on edge, I guess, something not quite right… You attacked a doctor…”

“I remember.” Bucky nods, brow furrowing again, likely at the memory of what he’d done to the man. But then he looks sideways at you, his frown turning curious more than anything else.

“I don’t remember you being there…” He murmurs. You swallow and force a tight smile.

“That’s because you batted me away when you stood up.” You joke, and he makes a face as he ‘ahs’.

You watch him stare at the coffee in his hands for several seconds, sorting through his thoughts and emotions silently.

“I’d stopped having those kinds of dreams so much before you came around, and then they started up again.”

He looks at you then, expression sad but unreadable, his eyes flickering across your features as he tries to figure out your tone.

“That first day, when you came and apologised, I couldn’t help but be terrified. I knew what had happened to you, what they’d done, and that you’d been getting better, but I couldn’t help it.” You almost regret telling him that, watching as his eyes turn even sadder, but you needed to, to make sure the next part made sense.

“I wasn’t able to sleep for days… I kept thinking it was all some trick and… and you were going to come back and take me away again.”

You purse your lips and turn your cup around in your hands, your pulse speeding up with nerves and anxiety.

“... And I think that’s so funny now,” You can’t help but laugh around your words, shaking your head as Bucky looks up at you sharply, confusion clearer on his features now.

“Funny?” He asks, voice flat, as if he suspected you might be making fun of him. You nod.

“It’s funny because these days I feel safest when you are around.” You confess, feeling very raw and open, feeling like perhaps he would see right through you.

Bucky just watches you for a while, his face returning to that unreadable expression he often wore, the confusion now gone. You start to wonder if he’d understood you properly.

“It feels like even if somebody did try to take me, you might not let them…”

“I would never let them.” Bucky says quickly, hurriedly, as if snapping out of a trance. You blink at him, a little surprised by the intensity behind his words, but he just shakes his head, frowning as he leans forward to put aside his coffee cup, and turns to face you on the couch.

“Listen to me; I will never let that happen again.” Bucky reiterates, firmer this time, making you jump slightly when his hand curls around yours. You inhale sharply, suddenly thrown off kilter and off course. You’d only wanted to make him see how much he’d done for you, but now you have no idea what was happening.

You look down at his hand in yours, and then back to his face with bewilderment, startled again when he squeezes your fingers in prompt.

“I… I believe you. I know.” You stutter and stumble over the words, feeling suddenly like there wasn’t enough air in the room. Bucky nods, and swallows, and then he’s kissing you.

You can’t help but gasp against his lips, and you’re almost certain that this whole morning has been a fake out, and you hadn’t really woken up yet. His hand not held in your own comes to gently hold your face, and even though you felt like you were drowning, responding feels bizarrely natural.

His kisses you sweet, contrary to the suddenness of it all, lips dancing slow and smooth across your own, tentative and hesitant behind the bold move. Your mind spins, elation and happy disbelief shooting through you, that you weren’t alone in having developed strange feelings. Your hand is released for a moment, only for your coffee to be tugged lightly from your other, and you don’t know where it goes, don’t really care, because now you were free to return his hold.

It feels a little awkward at first, it wasn’t as though you’d done anything like this in more than a decade, but you eventually let your arm wrap around his shoulder, slipping your hand a little shyly up to the hair at the nape of his neck. Bucky hums against your mouth in what you think is approval, and you scratch the spot a little more confidently.

And then, as if a brick had been tossed through your window, you’re shocked back to your senses.

You pull away from him quickly, jumping back and tearing yourself apart. Bucky looks surprised, and you can only stare back at him with wide eyes, breathing harder than you’d like to admit.

“What are you doing?” You manage to get out, your voice far too breathy and affected. Bucky’s brow furrows.

“You– You have a soulmate!” You tell him, trying not to sound like you were scolding him, gesturing to the hand that had previously been holding your face, the little black mark on his wrist clearly visible.

You wait for him to reply, and his expression seems to go through a journey before he focuses back on you.

“You said to me once that soulmate or not, there was still choice involved,” He speaks carefully, looking as anxious as you felt. He sucks in a breath, and looks at his wrist, before pulling his sleeve over it, and slowly holding his hand out toward you.

“I don’t– I don’t know who this is. But I know you.”

The words may as well sucker punch you in the gut, and you feel just as winded as you had in your dream. You can only stare at him, and his hand, in mild disbelief, but he doesn’t budge, doesn’t take it back.

“… Really…?” Your voice is meek, small, and belongs to the tiny part of you that didn’t feel damaged, or broken, the part of you that had still held out hope. Bucky’s lips quirk in the corners, and understanding that you won’t be able to reach for him yourself, he moves closer again, both hands cupping your face now, but instead of kissing you properly, he leans up to press a kiss to your forehead. Somehow it feels even more intimate, confirms the truth in his words even more than his lips on yours would have.

“Really.” He promises you.

If you like or enjoy, a comment or reblog is always highly appreciated! Thank you for reading!!!

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Anchor

It’s time for another slice of the first draft of my fan novelization for Our Life: Beginnings and Always! For once, this is a direct continuation of a piece I’ve served up before. Last week we got the hurt portion of hurt/comfort in the moment Family with the snippet I called Adrift. Now it’s time for the comfort half with Cove and Jamie.

As always, thank you for enjoying my writing. Special thanks in particular for the game’s lovely creators @gb-patch for being so sweet and encouraging. You’re all wonderful and you bring me such happiness!

...

It was impossible for Jamie to tell how long she remained staring off into the far horizon, fighting to keep her head above water in the chaotic storm of thoughts she drowned in. She sat with her knees tucked against her chest, her cheek resting across her arms folded on top of them. The wind delicately blew her blue hair to the side, just strong enough to tease her bangs and end of her long braid.

A voice cut through the static screeching inside of her head. Someone was shouting, getting closer. Not even the presence of another person was enough to make Jamie move until she noticed that they were calling her name.

Upon that realization, she recognized the voice as well. She could never, ever mistake his voice for anyone else’s.

Jamie raised her head and turned quickly towards the shouts, her eyes wide. She quickly spotted a silhouette in the darkness where the sand gave way to grass. Even in the dim light, she instantly identified the figure.

Cove.

There was a moment where Cove stood breathless, his eyes fixed on Jamie sitting curled up where the sand met the waves, with the moonlight casting a shadow across her face when she turned towards him. The moment lasted only long enough for him to be sure it was her before he ran to her side.

Confusion and worry drew Jamie to her feet, clearer than anything else in her chaotic mind, and she fully turned to face Cove as he approached. “Cove,” she said, his name shaped with too many emotions to process. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

The question took Cove aback. “No!” He cringed a little at the intensity of his response and tried to calm his racing heart. “Not to me anyway. I wanted to know what happened to you.”

Jamie stared at Cove in confusion, her face blank. Her reaction only made him even more concerned, his grimace creasing into a deep frown.

“Mom told me you stopped by earlier,” he explained, his voice still a little frantic and breathless from his panicked search. “I went to your house to say hi, but your parents said you were gone, that you needed to get away.”

Jamie said nothing. She heard him clearly, yet failed to understand what about that alarmed him so much. She was fine.

It was her family who weren’t okay.

Cove only felt his worries grow the longer Jamie failed to respond or even show any emotion. Normally, she was so expressive that it was easy for him to tell how she was feeling, but now her face was a tense, blank mask that offered him nothing.

Nothing about all this was normal, and it was starting to get to Cove.

“I mean…,” he continued, pressing on despite the oppressive stillness of his best friend. “I had to think something was going on after something like that, so I came to find you.” His aquamarine eyes looked into hers - those normally captivating night blue eyes were so uncharacteristically dim, devoid of their usual sparkle and joy whenever they were together.

The look in Jamie’s eyes terrified Cove.

The silence stretched on, a heavy weight oppressing both of them. Finally, Jamie took a breath and wet her lips, tasting the salt in the air as she struggled to answer Cove’s concern, to reassure him and explain what had happened without making things worse for him.

“I…”

Even forcing out one word alone was a struggle for Jamie, but Cove was patient, willing to wait for her to speak. Her gaze dropped to the sand, unable to bear the worry in his eyes anymore as she fought for words. It was too loud inside her head, the static scraping away words she wanted to say with intrusive ones she never wanted to admit to anyone. There had been so much she had wanted to tell him earlier, but now there was too much.

Finally, Jamie managed to try again. “There’s a lot…” Her voice petered off, the words dissolving from her mind before more than a handful could leave her tight throat. She skewed her eyes shut. “Elizabeth… my parents…!”

She choked on the words, a hand moving up to cover her mouth as she tasted bile. The action urged Cove to take a step closer to her.

“Is everything okay?” Cove asked reflexively, even though the answer was obvious, as he placed a hand on Jamie’s shoulder.

The touch was warm, solid. It was a stark contrast to how disconnected Jamie felt from the rest of the world. She closed her eyes and focused on Cove’s hand, his closeness, his concern.

Cove cared.

Cove always cared about her, what she thought, and what she felt. He never judged her, never pushed her. Ever since they met, he was always there, so kind and mindful of her. He was her anchor grounding her when the waters turned turbulent and threatened to wash her away.

Jamie placed her hand on top of Cove’s, drawing strength from him as she always did.

“Thank you,” she eventually managed to say, her shaky voice barely more than a whisper as she lowered her head. “Thank you for coming…” She lifted her gaze, but could only reach as far as his worried frown; she couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Cove’s brow furrowed even more as he only grew increasingly concerned, not as much by the words themselves but by the way Jamie said them. She sounded so… broken.

Despite his mounting fears, he held himself back from voicing his worries further, wanting to give her the chance to continue on her own.

Jamie closed her eyes and took another breath, giving the hand on her shoulder a small squeeze. It was hard for her to speak, to know where to begin, but the fact that Cove was with her now made things a little easier somehow. With his help, she would figure out what to do about Elizabeth, her moms, and…

And just like that the feelings she had been holding back surged forth like a tsunami and overtook her.

“My parents are dead!”

Cove froze at the weakly delivered outburst as it sent a shock through him. He couldn’t move, except for his mouth which fell open, but he was unable to do anything further as he stared at Jamie.

That wasn’t what Jamie had been intending to say, not at all.

For a moment, Jamie stuttered, scrambling to recover mentally, knowing she had to clear up the confusion she had just caused. “M-my biological ones… from before my moms… before they adopted me.” The explanation started as a trickle that only grew stronger, more emotional with each word, like water pouring from a crack in a dam that was only growing wider as more spilled free. “They died when I was a baby. Moms didn’t say how. Maybe they don’t know. But there wasn’t any other family I could live with. So that… that’s why I… why I g-got a-ado-adopte-”

Cove had heard more than enough. He closed the distance between them, pulling Jamie into a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” he murmured, his warm breath ghosting across her shoulder. The comforting words delivered with such gentleness pierced right through her.

The warmth was familiar and comforting. It felt so right to Jamie, yet she stood frozen as Cove enveloped her securely in his arms. They were so close that his voice rumbled through her pleasantly when he spoke, creating small tremors that ran through her. In another situation this would be heaven. But this wasn’t right. She wasn’t the one who needed to be comforted right now. It was her sister and moms who needed it far more than she did.

“You… you don’t ha-have to do this,” she said, barely managing to force the words out, her voice cracking at the edges.

Cove rested his head against Jamie’s, his cheek brushing against hers. He refused to let her go. “Yes I do.”

He sounded so sure, yet for some reason that fact made Jamie begin to shake. Finally she could move, her trembling hands reaching up - to draw him closer or push him away was unclear - but her fingers hooked into his shirt at his sides near his back, the hold on the fabric so tight her already pale knuckles turned white.

“I… I-I’m o-oka…”

The lie was too big for Jamie to finish forcing it from her throat. She choked on it, her voice catching and quaking until it turned into a wail of anguish that racked her body. All of her denials and barriers broke then, and she crushed her body into Cove’s until there wasn’t even room for air between them. The tears she didn’t know that she had been fighting all this time gushed forth without restraint, spilling onto her best friend’s skin as she buried her face into the crook of his neck.

Cove held Jamie even tighter, as close as he could without hurting her, his eyes growing watery as well. Although they were of equal height, she felt so small in his arms just then. Her body shook almost violently against him from the force of her sobs, the sounds rending his heart in two.

Cove said nothing while Jamie cried, merely listening to the wails she made that almost formed words at times. It was painful to hear just how much she was hurting, but he didn’t falter. He would do nothing else but hold her until she was done bleeding out all of the poison tainting her heart.

It took time for the night to grow still again, save for the constant rhythm of the waves and the breathing of the two teens as they held each other on the shore. Eventually, however, the flood of tears slowed to a trickle, and then finally stopped when Jamie had no more left to shed. Her energy bled away along with much of the tension in her body, leaving her standing more by virtue of Cove holding her up than the strength of her own legs, her once firm grip limp, but still hanging on desperately.

When Cove noticed, he took great care to guide Jamie back down onto the sand. The position they sat in was close, with Jamie practically in Cove’s lap. Under normal circumstances, such intimate closeness would have left him a blushing mess fighting the urge to bolt like a frightened deer, but he didn’t even think about it now. The only thing he focused on was keeping her close to him.

Cove sat for a little while longer with Jamie cradled in his arms, until he was sure that she might be ready to talk. He didn’t release his grip on her, but shifted just a little, trying to catch a glimpse of her face to better see whatever expression she was wearing now without widening the distance between them.

Jamie looked exhausted, worn, but not as worryingly tense as before.

When Cove spoke again, it was delicate and deliberate. “Can you explain everything to me?”

For a moment, Jamie just breathed deep, the sound rough and hitching occasionally. Finally, she managed the strength to lift her head and face Cove. Her red-rimmed dark blue eyes met his, but only for a second before she had to look away. She nodded slowly before taking in a heavy breath and letting it out slow and shaky.

The actual event hadn’t actually been that long, but the telling took Jamie a while in stops and starts. Cove listened attentively, only nodding where appropriate or taking in a sharp inhale when words almost escaped him. He only spoke again when he was sure she was finished speaking, at least for now.

“Jamie,” Cove said, his voice trembling with heartache for his closest friend. He faltered, wanting so badly to say whatever it took to somehow make her feel better, but words alone felt inadequate. “I’m really sorry about what happened to your parents. So, so sorry…”

Jamie being adopted was something Cove learned early on after meeting her, but its importance never truly sank in for him. He never felt comfortable about prying into it, relating the loss of her original parents to losing his mom for a while due to the divorce, and the distance that had grown between them since.

Although things had gotten better for him, it would never get better between Jamie and her birth parents.

Cove tried to find the words to say more, but nothing came. He could only take in deep, shaky breaths as he struggled for something to tell her that might help heal her broken heart. It was frustrating. He hated feeling so helpless, especially when his best friend needed him.

Jamie barely acknowledged Cove beyond a slight nod of her head as she looked off at some point in the distance, not really seeing anything. She found more words to say before he could. “I had no idea it was so important to Elizabeth,” she said, her voice rough from all her crying. “She was so upset and angry even before our moms told her about her biological parents… and after they did she just…” She had to pause for a moment to take in a shaky breath before letting out slowly. “I mean… I thought about mine too, sometimes, but it’s not because I wanted to know who they were.”

Jamie made a vague motion with her hand before limply dropping it back onto Cove’s arm. “I sorta just figured either they wanted me or they didn’t, and if they didn’t, they weren’t worth thinking about. If they did…”

Closing her eyes, Jamie paused to take a deep shuddering breath before shaking her head. “I didn’t want to know if they did,” she confessed in a whisper, guilt dripping from every word. “I didn’t want to ask, but when Elizabeth did… when my moms asked me… how could I not?” Her eyes went to Cove, her expression almost desperate and only relaxing a little when she saw him nod in understanding.

“But I guess… they did want me,” Jamie said haltingly, the words coming out weak and fragile as she closed her eyes. “There were people who… l-loved me. And I can’t love them back. Ever. I can never love them like they probably loved me because they died, and I can’t remember anything about them. They’re strangers. They’ll always be strangers to me, even if they did have me. I’ll never get to know them and love them like my moms or Elizabeth or Lee and… and… and I just wish they didn’t and that they just threw me away and abandoned me because they didn’t want me like I always told myself they did so I wouldn’t feel guilty about not caring about them and being happy without them! Isn’t that awful?!”

It was hard for Cove to keep silent. He bit into the inside of his cheek to fight the urge to speak before Jamie was done unburdening herself. He only moved to gently pry her fingers from her braid as she started yanking on it at some point during her rant. It was only when she stopped, panting as though she had just been running, her dark blue eyes wild and desperate and looking right through him, that he spoke again.

“Jamie,” Cove said, drawing her attention back to him and away from that dark pit inside herself. His voice cracked as he struggled to keep himself together; he needed to be strong, for Jamie’s sake. “You’re not doing anything wrong. You know that, right?”

The emotions playing across Jamie’s face were too complex for Cove to understand, but he suspected that they were also too much for her to truly understand them either.

Cove took great care in choosing his words, which made them come out slower than usual, almost stilted. “I think you can be as sad as you want, for as long as you need. Or you can feel about it whenever you want, too. It’s okay for you to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”

It was a struggle for him, as his words felt woefully inadequate in the face of such dark thoughts as the ones Jamie laid bare before him. He was completely out of his depth here. Even comparing her situation with her birth parents to his own parents didn’t help him really relate; it just made him shudder at the idea of how he would react if one or both of them died.

Adding on the complicated feelings of never knowing them or loving them like he did was just…

Cove had to take a moment to breathe, exhaling deeply as he ran a hand through his hair and let his gaze drift to the ocean. The sight of it was soothing, which he desperately needed right now.

With another sigh, Cove shifted his gaze back to Jamie, meeting her intense stare with a look of sympathy and reassurance. He at least took solace in the fact that she was looking at him now and not lost inside her own head again. Even if he couldn’t really relate to what she was going through, that didn’t stop him from empathizing with the obvious guilt she held towards her own complicated feelings, or understanding how easy it was for dark thoughts to spiral out of control.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is…,” Cove continued at last. “Whatever you feel about it is how you feel about it, and that’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself to be different.” He managed a faint smile, as he recalled what Jamie told him at the beginning of summer when he confided in her about his complicated feelings about his mother coming to stay. “There’s nothing wrong with how you’re feeling about all this. It doesn’t make you a bad person. No one would ever think badly about you for feeling this way about something like this.”

He sounded so sure, Jamie couldn’t help but believe him. It was strange how Cove had the power to do that, to be able to hold such pure faith in her that there was no room left for doubt. It was effortless for him to slip past her barriers, denials, and twisted up confusing feelings to reach her heart directly, always with a touch so delicate it wouldn’t disturb foam on the water.

Bit by bit, Jamie felt the knot in her chest loosen, and she found herself relaxing against Cove as she let his heartfelt words settle in. Instead of the static of broken thoughts, she listened to the familiar rhythm of waves meeting the shore, and the slow, steady breaths of her best friend by her ear. Her eyes drifted closed and took a moment to simply breathe.

Finally, Jamie started to see things in a new light.

When Jamie opened her eyes again, she was quickly lost in Cove’s aquamarine eyes that somehow seemed to glow in the moonlight as they focused only on her. The way the moon made his eyes shine so bright despite the darkness of night was one of the first things she noticed about him on the night they met. Although those enchanting eyes held sadness like they did that night, they were also overflowing with affection for her.

Cove always saw her so clearly, all of her, both the good and the bad. He could see her like no one else.

Although Jamie thought she had cried out all her tears before, a couple more beaded up in her eyes before slowly trickling down her face. Despite their presence, she managed a weak but genuine smile. Somehow, Cove always found a way to give her exactly what she needed the most. “Thank you, Cove.”

The tension wrapped around Cove eased a little as well, as he watched the light slowly return to Jamie’s eyes, and he returned her delicate smile with a comforting one of his own.

“You know,” he continued carefully, “Elizabeth and I haven't ever been super close, but… I don’t think she’d want her family to break up, or drift apart.” He paused for a moment to offer a weak attempt at a wry smile. “Even if she complains about it sometimes.”

Jamie let out a breath that was almost a laugh, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards a little higher, and Cove took that as a victory.

His expression softened as he continued. “And your moms definitely don’t. It doesn’t matter if you’re not blood related, you’re definitely family.” He reached up to gently brush away the stray tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “I can see that… and I hope you can too.”

Jamie leaned into the touch, her eyelids dipping, but she didn’t want to stop looking into Cove’s ocean blue eyes. They were so bright and clear, able to see her with such sincerity. She could feel his reassurance in the way he looked at her, the certainty he held that despite everything she was going through, she and her family were going to be okay.

As his tender words and caring heart wrapped around her like a warm blanket, Jamie felt herself growing a little more certain as well. Cove was right - she didn’t have to apologize for how she felt, or even make excuses for it.

She didn’t have to deny how she felt either, not even to herself.

As the pain slowly receded like the tide, Jamie felt her almost overwhelming affection for Cove flow in to take its place. Mere words couldn’t express how grateful she was that he was here to support her, that despite seeing what she believed was such an ugly part of her, he accepted it and helped her see that it wasn’t as terrible as she convinced herself it was.

More than anything else in this world, Jamie knew that she could count on Cove to be there when she needed him.

Jamie no longer felt the need to hold herself back from fully accepting the comfort Cove offered her. She snuggled in closer, drawing her arms around his torso as she nuzzled her cheek against his. Being close to him, touching him, hugging him - it was always a soothing balm no matter how easily he could send her heart fluttering out of control. There was nothing more right in this world than being in his arms.

Although Cove started to become aware of their intimate position, it was a mercifully distant concern when compared to everything else that merely quickened his pulse. Not even his nervous crush on her could compare to the relief he felt knowing that his best friend was finally starting to feel better. He returned her affectionate gesture, brushing his cheek against hers, feeling her soft warmth and breathing in the faint smell of ocean and flowers that was distinctly Jamie. Despite how anxious he felt at times being so close to her, he couldn’t help but feel content holding her like this.

The two remained like that a while longer, neither inclined to separate now that the silence between them had softened into something comforting and familiar. For a while they simply sat together on the sand, idly watching the ocean as it reflected countless stars and the moon above.

[mypoisonedvine]

Rainstorm (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

credit goes to @princess-of-riviaa for this idea although I think I took it in a slightly different direction than she intended… I hope she won’t mind ;)

this isn’t a “dark fic” in the traditional sense because Bucky himself isn’t very bad (he’s in Winter Soldier mode so he’s no saint, but he’s not a sadist either, just kinda morally ambiguous) but the situation and topics are pretty dark so be wary.  

Summary: the Winter Soldier has basic biological needs.  HYDRA has hypotheses about the hereditary capabilities of super soldier serum.  You’ve been brainwashed into believing that these two goals are your life’s purpose, and that nothing would make you happier than to be at the mercy of HYDRA’s favorite weapon.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: kind of non con* (see below), somewhat painful loss of virginity, mention of blood, captivity and grooming and general HYDRA nastiness

*This is certainly non con because the reader has been brainwashed to comply to orders, but it has none of the trappings of traditional non con fare for the exact same reason.  She’s not gonna resist and she doesn’t want to, it’s just that she lacks, on a greater level, much of a choice.

The scientist made a final adjustment to your hair, putting every curl exactly in its place.  He examined your face before nodding proudly.  “You’re ready.  Let’s go to his room.”

You tried to contain your thrill, following the scientist closely and listening to the echo of your heels on the concrete floor.

The scientist used his fingerprint to unlock the soldier’s door, and as it slid away, you finally saw him in person for the first time.  He was standing in wait, and turned to look at you through the doorway.  Your heart skipped a beat, properly; you were excited to see him, and yet so terrified.  You had been training for months for this exact moment.  There was so much riding on this, and you found yourself afraid that he would be disappointed.

“I have someone here we’d like you to meet,” the scientist informed the soldier.  As you stepped inside, he looked at you with a hint of confusion.  “We understand that you’ve been stressed.  She’s here to help with that.”

The soldier furrowed his brow.  “A woman,” he observed.  He hadn’t seen one in quite some time, at least not this up close.

“This woman represents a lot of money, and time, and research.  She’s not as strong as you, so be careful, but what she lacks in agility she makes up for in obedience.  I promise you, it knows no bounds.”

“She’ll do anything I say,” he realized-- or maybe it was a question.

“She’s eager to please,” the scientist smiled, “and she lives to serve.”

The soldier placed a finger under your chin and you jumped a little before allowing him to move your head side to side as he examined you.

“Is she not to your liking?” the scientist asked nervously.  “We can make some changes.  The hair and outfit can be different.  We figured you would want a… domestic look.”

You tugged at the bottom of your dress, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under your soldier’s observation.  

“No, she’s…” he trailed off and began again.  “She’s beautiful.”

You felt your face getting hot and you shuffled your feet nervously.

“I’ll leave you two be, then,” the scientist nodded before awkwardly stepping back.  “One thing, soldat,” he added, looking the soldier in the eyes.  “Do whatever you need to with her in order to… relax.  We ask only one thing in return: your mission is to impregnate her.”

The soldier nodded and the scientist finally left.  

You felt very aware of the silence in the room as the soldier began to pace around you.

“You were created for me,” he posited.  You nodded quickly.  “Well, get on with it then.  Show me what you can do.”

You dropped to your knees, looking up at him as you palmed the front of his pants.  You felt his cock underneath the fabric growing harder, and you smiled.  

His uniform was somewhat difficult to open but you did your best and finally managed to get his cock exposed.  

You remembered what you had been trained to do and set forth to your task.  You had been programmed to love whatever he loved, get pleasure from his pleasure.  So as his head fell back and his fingers laced through your hair, you moaned with him, taking his cock as deep into your throat as you could fit it.

He was bigger than the men who had trained you, and harder to swallow.  You did your best and earned a groan from him in reply.  The fingers in your hair curled into a fist and the pain of your hair being pulled was unexpected but arousing.  

You used your hand to stroke the parts of him your mouth couldn’t reach.  You looked up and watched him as he watched you, his eyes piercing into you with fiery intensity. 

“Stop,” he gritted out suddenly.  You pulled back and released his cock from your mouth. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimpered, “I’ve done something wrong.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I have a mission of my own.  Stand up.”

You obeyed quickly, so quickly that you felt a little light-headed.  

“Take off your dress,” he commanded.  It was designed to come off easily, and with just a few opened snaps it fell to the ground.  “Help me take off my chest plate,” he added, and you stepped forward to begin undoing the straps of his gear.  He watched your nimble, delicate fingers and thought they looked a bit out of place next to his armor.  But you did manage to get it off, and he shrugged his shoulders to help you slide it off his arms.  Instead of tossing it to the ground though, you folded it and set it on top of a nearby counter-top.  

“What did you do that for?” he asked.

“Would you like me not to?” you countered.

“No, it’s fine,” he nodded.

He took off his boots and you set them aside while he shimmied off his trousers.  You didn’t stare at his naked form for too long, because he hadn’t asked you to, but you were sure you’d never seen anything so perfect.  You understood that you were made for him, but now it felt like he was made for you too, in a way.  

He pulled you towards him, pressing his body against yours.  He was so warm, and you smiled as you melted into his embrace.

“Kiss me,” he requested.  You slipped your arms around his neck and leaned in, but stopped just as your face was right against his.

“How?” you asked.  He seemed confused.  “There are different ways.”

“Whatever you want to do,” he answered.  That didn’t make much sense to you, but you didn’t want to keep him waiting any longer.  You pressed your lips against his as your eyes fluttered shut, feeling the stubble on his face scratch you a bit.  His hand held the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delicately beginning to explore between your lips.  You moaned a little against him, savoring his taste.  After all this time, it felt so right to be in his arms like this.  Your life had meaning, your existence had value, and you were so lucky to be here providing whatever he needed.

He pulled back from the kiss and you found yourself chasing him for just a moment before you stopped, meeting his half-lidded gaze.  “Mine,” he said quietly.  “All mine.”

You nodded, biting your lip a little.  

He bent you over the bed, one hand tangled into your hair to hold you up and the other guiding his cock to your entrance.

They had prepared you for everything but this.  They explained that you needed to be untouched here, for him, and that you didn’t have to worry about being good at this part.  All you needed to do was follow his instructions.

“Please,” you begged, “put your cock inside me.  I need to feel you inside me.”

He slipped into you in one motion, plowing through the resistance of your walls and grabbing your hips when he bottomed out.  Pain seared through you but it was irrelevant.  He didn’t take long before he began to pull back and push into you again, and you focused on suppressing your whimpers as you figured he wouldn’t like to hear you in pain.  If he wanted to, he would hurt you more, and you were ready for that if it was what he needed.

“Does… does it feel good?” you asked weakly between shallow breaths.

“Yes,” he hissed sharply.  You smiled, sighing with relief as tears of joy prickled your eyes.  

“I’m so happy,” you admitted, savoring the feeling of purpose fulfilled.  “Tell me how to be good for you.  I want to be good for you.”

He leaned in and wrapped his arms around your body, putting his lips right against the shell of your ear.  “You want to be good for me?” he repeated.

“Yes,” you sobbed, “please.”

“Tell me how much you love it,” he demanded.  “Tell me how much you love my cock inside you.”

“Soldat, I love it so much,” you cried, “it’s everything I ever dreamed of.  It feels so good to be yours.  I love your cock inside me.  I love you.”

He laughed a little, kissing the shell of your ear.  “You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t need to,” you explained, “you’re my mission.”

“You’re bleeding a bit,” he realized as he looked down at where your bodies conjoined.  

“I’m sorry,” you apologized.

“It’s not your fault,” he corrected.  “Don’t apologize.”

You almost apologized again for apologizing, but realized that would be stupid and just murmured out an awkward “okay.”  

“Am I hurting you?” he asked in a way that made you unsure if he wanted to hurt you or not.

“Please don’t stop,” you avoided answering, because it didn’t really matter.

He adjusted his angle so that each movement was deeper, the tip of his cock brushing against something inside you that made you nearly scream from overwhelming sensation.  He was claiming you so thoroughly that you felt like your body was being molded to his shape, just as your mind had been molded to his presence, and it was intoxicating.

You savored every moment of it, hoping it wouldn’t be over soon and you could stay like this for a while-- although you knew a quick finish was a sign of a job well done, so you were a little torn on how to feel.  In the end, you would be satisfied with whatever he gave you.

You’d never been told that you could come, but you were starting to put it together as pressure built inside you, leaving you incapable of suppressing your moans.

“Yes,” you found yourself chanting, over and over, without really meaning to.

“Louder,” he demanded, and you hadn’t known you could get much louder until you did.

“Yes!” you screamed.  

“Beg,” he growled, his own voice growing in volume.  That you definitely knew how to do.

“Please!  Please don’t stop!” you sobbed.  

Even with how loud you were, you could hear the sounds of skin on skin as he pounded into you and you loved it.  You loved the way his fingers, metal and flesh, dug into your hips as he held you down, keeping you from lurching forward from his forcefulness.  You loved the smell of sweat and sex and damp concrete and old leather.  You loved everything about this moment.  

“Fuck, ‘m close,” he grunted.

“Please,” you repeated, your voice nearly going out, “please come inside me, I need it, I need you, I’m yours, soldat, please-- yes!” 

You gasped as an orgasm crashed into you like one of those rainstorms that start with just a sprinkle and then instantly become torrential; thunder, lightning, the whole shebang.  You’d never seen a rainstorm like that, but that’s what you would’ve compared it to if you had.

He moaned loudly when he came, continuing to pump into you until he was sure that he’d spilled every drop.  The flutter of your walls milked his cock encouragingly and it all produced a cycle that you wished could last forever.

“Stay still,” he demanded breathlessly, holding you down even though you had no desire to resist.  “Stay right there, fuck, don’t move.”

You nodded against the pillow.  You listened to his breathing as it slowed, relishing the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you.

He pulled out of you and both of you winced a little, him laying down beside you gently.

“It’s better if you don’t move,” he explained, and you weren’t sure what exactly was better, but you trusted his judgment regardless.  

The bed was small-- it was never meant for two people.  But you loved being pressed against him as he laid on his side and ran his fingers down your back.  It made you shiver, but it made you smile, too.

“Did I do well?” you asked weakly.

“Yes,” he nodded.  

You both caught your breath for a while, and you just soaked in the way his arms wrapped around your shoulders, like you fit together perfectly.  

“Can you handle another round?” he asked quietly after a few minutes had passed.  You jumped up at the opportunity to make him happy again. 

“I can handle anything you need me to do,” you answered eagerly.

He pulled you onto his lap, looking up at you as he maneuvered his cock towards your entrance again.  You sank down onto him and ignored the sting of soreness as your body accepted him once more.

“Yes,” he hissed, “just like that.”

You keened at the praise, arching your back a little more as he pulled you down to lay on his chest.

You felt him holding back a little bit, reacting to your whimpers of pain as his cock pushed even deeper into you than it had before.

“Don’t restrain yourself, please,” you begged.  “I want all of you.”

“I thought this was about what I wanted,” he whispered against your ear.

“It is,” you confirmed, “and I can tell you want more.”

He kissed underneath your ear with a smile.  “I’m afraid I’ll break you.”

“Never worry about me,” you shook your head.

“Ask me for it then.  Ask me for what you want.”

“I don’t want anything that you don’t,” you replied, confused.  He pulled you closer and held you down against his muscled chest. 

“Then ask me for what I want.”

You pulled back from his embrace to examine his face, which was looking back at you expectantly.

“Fuck me hard, soldat,” you begged in a weak voice, “please, I want you to use me--”

Before you could even finish he was grabbing you again and holding you still as he bucked his hips up into you, fucking you ruthlessly.  You cried out with joy as your head fell back, and he leaned into suck at one of your nipples which made your whole body tense up.

“Ride my cock,” he instructed, “show me how much you want it.”

“You know I need you,” you gasped as you followed his command, bouncing on top of him as he released his grip on you to free your movements.  He slipped a finger between your bodies to roughly rub at your clit and you choked.  “S-soldat,” you whimpered.

“Feels good?” 

“I don’t need it,” you explained, “I don’t need anything but you.”

“What if I want you to come right now?  Can you?”

You felt guilt burn through your chest.  “I-I’m sorry,” you cried, “I’m close but… I can’t yet.  I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed, stopping you from riding him for a moment.  “I was just curious.  You don’t need to.”

“Please don’t think you need to do anything for me,” you added quickly.

“I want to,” he assured.  “I want you to like it.”

You almost laughed.  What a ridiculous concept.  “I love it.  As long as you’re happy, I love it.”

He smiled, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.  “I’m happy,” he whispered, and you started to move again, gasping as you gripped his chest to keep your balance.  

This one was different from the last.  It didn’t make your skin burn or your bones sore.  There was an ache, yes, but a softer one, one that snuck up on you as you clutched his face and he looked at you with an expression that reminded you of how you felt about him.  Like he couldn’t get enough of you, like you were everything, like you were the only thing.

He only asked one thing of you that time.  “Say that you love me again,” he requested in a soft voice.

“I love you,” you told him, and you kept telling him until you were too close to form words anymore and he pulled you into one more kiss, deep and slow and perfect, as you wrapped yourself around each other and fell backwards into the abyss of pleasure.

You laid in silence after that, just holding each other as you waited for your panting to still into slow, meditative breaths.  

You weren’t sure what to do now.  He didn’t seem like he knew, either.

“Would you prefer I keep you company, or that I leave?” you asked.

“Stay,” he decided.

“What would you like me to do?”

“Lay with me.”

You nodded, nuzzling into his chest and letting your eyes flutter shut.

The next few weeks passed relatively quickly.  Certainly faster than any weeks of training had.  There wasn’t much to do but make love so that made up 80% of what you did, the rest going to sleeping and the occasional meal.  One time he taught you about his gun, showed you how to take it apart and put it back together, and you had found it pretty interesting.  Mainly because he was the one explaining it, but still.

You asked him to wake you up before he left for his mission but he didn’t.  You woke up to an empty bed, and you’d think you would’ve been prepared for that after years of it, but just so little time with him had spoiled you.  You cried a bit but got over it quickly, straightening up and deciding you needed to be prepared for his return.  You anticipated that he would need a lot from you after having to work.

You were right.  You had been meditating when he flung open the door, and you jumped up.  He looked so different with all his gear on, including the mask and goggles.  

He stormed across the room, tossing away the coverings on his face and kissing you with an intensity that bordered on rage.  You reciprocated, glad that he had finally stopped asking you for what he wanted and learned to take what he needed.  He seemed to understand now that you could handle it.

It was a fury of tearing at clothes and pulling at hair and biting at skin after that, and you ignored the blood in his hair as you ran your fingers through it.

You frankly had no idea what he was doing when he laid you down on the bed only to slide down and start biting at your thighs, though you had no intention to question it.  As he suddenly licked a thick stripe over your sex, it was like you had stumbled into an entirely new world.  He found your most sensitive places and targeted them with the same ruthless efficiency he approached nearly everything in his life.

He had shown you pleasure that made you melt but this was like something else, something that made you grip the sheets and kick your legs and arch your back.  He had to hold your hips down to keep you from bucking against him, and when the growls he emitted against you didn’t get the message across, he let his teeth graze over your bud.  You yelped but finally stilled-- at least, as best you could.

You were speechless, even as you realized that you should remind him that he was focusing too much on you, that you wanted to make sure he was happy too…

But then again, this was what he had wanted.  What he needed, it felt like.  And who were you to doubt that?

So you let your head fall back as he sent you headfirst into a violently powerful orgasm, enough to make your entire body shake as you made sounds you hadn’t realized before that you could make.

And that seemed to only inspire him to keep going, offering you no reprieve as he kept you suspended in the peak of your sensation.

Tears burned your eyes as you were overwhelmed by him, numbness prickling at the tips of your fingers and toes and even in the places he was licking you.  You were so lost in it that you didn’t even notice he had stopped until he slipped his cock into you, still holding your hips down as he finally fucked you.

He stayed upright for a while before leaning down and caging you in under his arms.  He smelled like gasoline and gunpowder.  

“Mine,” he growled, right against your ear, sending chills over your skin.  

“Yours,” you agreed quickly, your voice coming out broken and wavering.  “Just yours, only yours, please--”

He rubbed that spot above your opening with his thumb again and you wrapped your legs around his hips.  “Ohh, yes,” you whimpered.

He kissed you and where you had found fire before, you found rain.  You felt his suffering, the exhaustion that sank deep into his bones and never seemed to leave.  You felt his guilt for leaving you.  You felt his guilt for coming back.

You hoped that you could kiss him back in just the right way that would say everything you wanted to tell him. It’s okay, you’re okay, we’re okay.

You loved the entire concept of we.  You loved being with him, in any way, although admittedly this way was your personal favorite.  It was the language both of you seemed to understand best.

Just a moment after he pulled back and looked into your eyes, you heard the beeping of his door being unlocked.

He jumped a bit before pulling the wrinkled sheet up over the both of you as the scientist walked in briskly, not even seeming to care that he was obviously interrupting a private moment. 

“Okay soldat, time to go back on ice,” the scientist informed you both mundanely.

“No,” the soldier refused.  “I don’t want to.  I’ll stay awake until the next mission.”

“Not an option,” the scientist shook his head.  “Come on, get dressed and let’s go.”

He sighed as he obeyed, slipping past you and standing up as he found his discarded clothing and put it back on.

“What will happen to her?” he asked, looking at you where you were laying on the bed, nervously clutching the sheet to your chest.

“She’ll wait.”

“You’re going to put her under too?”

The scientist didn’t answer, and the soldier clenched his jaw.  

“You’re going to keep her awake, aren’t you?  So you and your colleagues can keep ‘training’ her.”

Still no answer.

You yelped instinctively when the soldier grabbed you, pulling you up holding you in front of him with a hand around your neck.  You scrambled for footing but made no effort to cover yourself; it was nothing the scientist hadn’t seen before.  You relaxed into the soldier’s arms once you understood what had happened.  You trusted him.  If he hurt you, there would be a reason for it, and you were ready. 

“I’m not going under,” the soldier hissed.  “Don’t come any closer or I’ll kill her.”

The scientist shrugged.  “She’s yours to do with as you please.  It’s no skin off my nose.”

“Didn’t you say that you spent a lot of money on her?”

“We spent more on you.”

“What if I told you that she’s pregnant?”

The scientist’s eyes went wide.  That seemed to get his attention.  “There’s no way you could know that.  Our tests haven’t come back yet.”

“But we both know that she could be.  How much trouble would you get in if the tests come back positive but she’s already dead?”

He pressed his lips against your ear, gripping you tighter.  “You’d die for me, right?  If I wanted to kill you now?”

“Yes,” you nodded as best you could with the metal hand around your throat, “of course.  Anything for you.”

“Maybe you trained her too well,” the soldier mocked as he addressed the scientist again.

“Alright, alright,” the scientist relented, “we’ll meet your demands just… let her go.”

“I won’t go under,” he repeated, “and no one will touch her but me.”

“Of course,” the scientist rushed, “anything.  Let her go, please.”

The soldier dropped you to the floor and you clung to his legs, laying yourself at his feet.  The scientist slinked out of the room, apparently to inform everyone that the soldier would not be going into cryo as expected, but all you could think about was what he had said.  No one will touch her but me.  It was like a dream come true.  You could stay with him and make him happy, he wouldn’t have to leave you, you wouldn’t have to practice on anyone.  You could just be his. 

He knelt down to join you on the floor, wrapping his arms around you.  “Never let anybody near you but me, okay?  You’re mine.”

You nodded, looking up at him with teary eyes.  “Of course.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you like that.  I’m gonna protect you.”

“Whatever you want,” you insisted.  You felt his hand on your stomach and you looked down at it, putting your own hand on top of his.

“They’re going to take it away,” he realized solemnly.  You weren’t sure what to say.  You just wanted him to feel better.  He looked at you and glanced to where you both knew a camera was watching you from the corner, and he leaned in to kiss your cheek.  “We won’t let them,” he whispered.  “We’re going to get out, with the baby.”

You nodded a little, and leaned in to rest your head on his shoulder.  You closed your eyes as he stroked your hair and at some point you fell asleep, and you dreamt of things you didn’t understand-- freedom, choice, family.  You dreamt of a world you hadn’t experienced yet; or at least, one that you couldn’t remember.  He stayed awake, but as he carried you to the bed in his arms and laid beside you, he was dreaming too.

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Not by the Moon | 07

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: A philosophical slant, (heavy) angst, Werewolf!Jaebeom being absolute hubby material, Werewolf!Jaebeom being awkward and (a bit of a) pervert, domestic fluff, talk of medication, apparently werewolves don’t like to wear clothes (what is my canon...), talk of life and death, mention of blood, mild swearing

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Jaebeom’s POV.

Well, here it is, earlier and much longer than originally planned. It’s also a lot more tragic and philosophical than I intended it to be, but then again, what else can you expect from a tragedian fascinated by the human condition even as it is translated into the realm of the magical?

I think I just thought of the modern literary movement I might belong to: magic realism.

It’s a crying shame the Decadent Movement isn’t active anymore, though, because that one truly feels like a good fit for me both as an author and an individual. Ah well, c’est la vie.

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Masterlist

There is nothing better for a wolf than being with its mate. 

Well, there is one thing.

Having them completely at your mercy as you’re inside them.

I still don’t understand what the plastic wrapping is good for, but Jinyoung was very insistent on using it while we drove to the airport. And Y/N seemed glad I had whatever it is, her scent even betraying a hint of relief. However, one day, I hope she’ll tell me not to use it.

No, that’s not right. There’s a word for the… whatever it is.

A condom.

That’s the word.

I hope she’ll tell me not to use a condom. It doesn’t matter whether I’m in season or not, although the chances she’ll pup are higher if I am. I want pups with her, a little pack of our own. I want it to be our toddler running around the park, chasing its sibling. Then again, will I remain human long enough to see them grow up?

Will I even remember their birth on the day they’re born?

Will I still be here?

Or remain without a family, a proud bloodline?

I slowly open my eyes, blinking a few times to get used to the sunlight bathing the room in a warm golden hue, swallow hard and force myself to calm down. There is no use in contemplating this now, not this early in the day nor in our time together. What counts is that I’m here now with Y/N in my arms and we’re in her apartment somewhere.

A faint whiff of brine seeps in through the air cleaner filter above the window overlooking the city. A gull flies by and lands on the roof of the building opposite ours.

Sea. Rusted metal. Right, the old harbour.

A high-pitched noise, a disquiet hum followed by a sigh, makes my ears perk up. I look down at the lady sleeping on my chest, curled up and fingers balled into small fists similar to a bunny’s paws. More importantly, however, she’s perfectly alright and was only unconsciously trying to get more comfortable.

A breathless chuckle rises in my throat at the display. Y/N’s adorable even when she’s fast asleep, her lips parted yet not enough to allow drooling.

I, on the other hand, am another story. I don’t do it often, but I must have been so tired last night I triggered the habit. The finger I swipe over the corners of my mouth comes away wet both times.

Oh no, I didn’t drool on her, did I? Would she mind, though, if I explained it’s a sign I’m comfortable with her?

It isn’t hard to guess the answer to the question. She would beat me over the head, likely with a shoe, and say I’m not allowed to bite her at all anymore. Not even in the future.

In a hurry to discover whether I made the fatal mistake, I check her messy hair but keeping my movements controlled to not wake her up. Fortunately, there are no locks sticking together nor a trail running down over the side of her face.

With a deep sigh, I slump further down into the bed again and kiss her crown. However, I don’t go back to sleep despite the comfort of the sheets. Instead, I lift the lady’s head and gently put her down on the pillow as I get up, carefully calculating every movement like I do when hunting to make sure she won’t wake up or notice my absence in her unconscious state.

The faint smell of burned iron comes from somewhere when I rearrange the sheets to bundle Y/N up. My mouth dries up, throat blocked by something I can’t swallow as a familiar stench disturbs the morning happiness. Former intentions abandoned, I claw through the sheets to try and discover where the rank odour comes from.

Did I hurt her? Is she bleeding? Why is she bleeding? Where is it? Where’s the blood?

As suspected, the frantic search wakes the pretty lady. Propped up on an elbow, eyes half-closed and brows furrowed, she turns to me. “Jae, what-’’ she yawns, “What’re you doing?”

Barely has she asked the question or I find what I’ve been looking for.

On her side of the bed, between her thighs, is a puddle of dried blood.

Where did it come from? Did I… Did I do this?

I grab her by the shoulders and pull her close to check her condition, turning her this way and that as each thought grows more troubled. “Are you okay?” There’s nothing to see on the bare skin of her upper body. “Are you hurt?”

Maybe the wound is somewhere lower, on her hip or leg. I didn’t bite her last night. Right? I didn’t hurt her. At least, I don’t think I did. No. Surely the wolf- I wouldn’t harm her. I had enough control to prevent that from happening. Yes, that’s the case.

But then, with a fading mind, how much can I trust myself?

“Jaebeom, I’m fine. What are you- ah.” Y/N notices the spot of dark crimson when I pull the sheets completely off the bed and toss them aside. She lets out an incomprehensibly careless chuckle, evidently oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

“What are you giggling about? Y/N, you’re bleeding!” I bark, lost.

A small paw cups my cheek, her thumb caressing the skin in an attempt to calm me down. “You took my virginity. It’s natural to bleed a little when that happens.”

“Are you still in pain?” Even though it’s natural, surely it’s not without repercussions. Otherwise, the stain wouldn’t be there.

“No, I’m not, silly. I’m okay.” She kisses the tip of my nose when I let out a whine, unhappy with the response. Withal, a curious tone in her voice overtakes my own displeasure. “Are you?”

Why do you say it like that?

She sounds weird, hinting at something I’m supposed to find as obvious as she. Yet, I have no clue about what it can be. So, I tilt my head and stare blankly at her, waiting for an explanation. “I’m fine.” 

My choice of words makes her visibly flinch despite the effort to hide it. The sleepiness which glazed her eyes evaporated, leaving them devoid of the amusement at my failure as a human. The recognizable sour note of anxiety creeps back into her scent, setting off alarm bells in my mind. “I’m alright. No pain. Happy to be here. Happy to wake up next to you.”

I rub her arms in a poor attempt to make her calm down, have her scent return to its spring-like fruitiness. She is supposed to smell like fresh fruit still hanging from the trees, yet to ripen. Not like fallen fruit beginning to decay in the summer sun.

“Okay,” is all she says in response before she pulls away, the absence of the warmth of her palm sending a cold shiver throughout my body.

The world always seems a little colder without her.

“Want breakfast?” A low grumble pierces the silence following the question, giving me enough of a response. And a reason to get my head, no, that’s not the idiom. To get my thoughts ordered. Organized. To get my thoughts in order? To think about… stuff. Last night. This. Everything. “Never mind. I’m making you breakfast. You have to eat.”

I stand up and head for the bathroom to first get rid of the weird plastic wrapping she put on me last night. Having thrown it in the bin there after a bit of an awkward struggle removing it, I move to the kitchen. Nevertheless, I don’t start preparing food right away. Instead, I pick up the grey hoodie I gave her from the bag between the sofa and chair facing the kitchen. I remember how she held it up to her nose, breathed in and basked in the scent.

My scent.

A fragment of last night’s memory.

I remember we had sex and that she told me I’m her first, but afterwards things are blurry.

Smell. I said something about how nicely she smells. Not really an original compliment since I’ve said it a lot already, but I can’t help but focus on it.

And then…

Then…

Then instinct took over because I let it, thinking I’d remain in control even though I let go a little. After all, I’ve learned enough to know how to deal with the wolf inside thanks to the rehabilitation procedure Jinyoung put me through and supervised. Since then, there’s been a healthy balance between human and beast in my mind.

Or, rather, there was one.

I think.

Another boundary to watch out for. I have to keep myself in check. No more experimenting.

Because to do so is to forget.

And I want to remember.

 I stop absent-mindedly thumbing the piece of clothing, drape it over the armrest of the sofa and head into the kitchen to make breakfast. Unfortunately, the fridge quickly brings my plan to a halt, empty except for a pack of soy milk and a tray of eggs. The groceries Jinyoung and I got were only enough for dinner last night and there are no leftovers.

To be fair, she did just come back from a trip abroad. But still, is there really nothing to work with?

I sigh in defeat and grab the plant-based milk to pour it over the apple and cinnamon granola I find in the cupboard above the sink. At least it’s food and drink in one meal.

From the drawer next to the oven, I grab two spoons which I put into the bowls, grab the hoodie from the couch and return to the bedroom.

Y/N sits with her back turned to me, but flips around a little too fast for my liking once she hears my paws approaching. “Jaebeom?”

The terrible mixture of barely suppressed horror and genuine concern in her gaze has translated into her voice, which is cold and calculating. The sour note of anxiety hasn’t faded from her scent, creating a stone to sink to the bottom of my stomach because there’s only one thing that can be a distressing factor this early in the day.

Me.

Withal, the reason why she’s scared puzzles me since I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary. I’ve simply been me since I woke up.

Human.

Although, that’s me now.

Last night, I don’t know who or what I was though it isn’t hard to guess.

The pretty lady traces the deep indentation in the headboard of the bed with her fingers bent to resemble a claw. “Did you do this?”

Did- Did I? No. I- I don’t know. I was less strict with myself last night and don’t remember much, but surely I wasn’t gone enough to do this.

I hope.

I think.

I’m not sure.

But the reality provides the necessary evidence to repute any kind of denial I can offer.

I set the bowls down on the nightstand and crawl back on the bed to sit next to her. Gently, I nudge her hand aside to mimic her action, my own fingers perfectly fitting into the large gash. “I don’t know.”

A surge of violence shoots throughout my body, triggering the nagging feeling of a forgotten memory strong enough to knock the air out the lungs and split my skull with flashes of a memory. Nevertheless, the fragments pass by too fast to make sense of them and the mere attempt to do so worsens the headache. I flinch and scramble backwards with a paw- a hand pressed to my head as if I can thus suppress the pain. Yet, I remain unable to look at anything but the damage.

“I don’t know,” I repeat, my voice hardly louder than a scared whisper.

“I felt your skin move beneath my fingers last night,” Y/N starts, catching my attention with the timid response suggestive of requiring more explanation.

Exactly what I don’t have since I can’t even explain it myself.

This shouldn’t be happening.

“I think I did, at least,” she adds doubtfully on a shivery breath. The sourness sweetens to doubt instead of anxiety. Nonetheless, it’s still worrying she’s ill… uncomfortable.

“Did I-“ I swallow hard, forcing out the words describing my worst nightmare. “Did I transform?”

“Transform?’’ She briefly turns her gaze from me to the indentation, lips parted in an attempt to articulate a thought that’s dismissed with a headshake the second thereafter. Her attention returns to me, her expression slackened. ‘’What are you- What… No, you didn’t, but you looked far away. Retreated further into your own world, more so than you normally are.”

“That’s good,” I mumble, nodding as I, too, briefly return my attention to the claw mark. “Was human. Good.”

Still, need to talk to the weird-smelling intruder. Doctor. Friend. Name, his name. Jinyoung. Jesus, man, get yourself together. Your name is Im Jaebeom. You’re a twenty-eight old werewolf that- no, who runs a bookshop called Paper Souls. Jinyoung is your friend, doctor and supervisor appointed to you by... by... some organization.

“Jaebeom,” the pretty lady puts her hand on my shoulder, features softened instead of frozen and marred by fear, “have you taken your medication yet?”

The natural fruity undertone seems forced to be stronger.

You should be scared. I might have- I made that claw mark. Why treat me like a human? I’m a wolf.

“Me- Med-“ The strange word barely registers until a spark of humanity recalls its definition. “Medication. Pills. No, I- I haven’t.”

“Let me grab a glass of water and get them.”

She ruffles my hair, jumps off the bed and rushes out of the room. I listen to her bare feet lightly treading the floor as she moves on the other side of the wall, hurried steps going from the hallway, where she rummages in my coat for the rattling bottle of pills, to the kitchen. There, she opens a cupboard to grab a glass. The loud clinking of glass alongside the sour undertone in her scent indicates she almost accidentally caused several to fall out and break on the tiles. Fortunately, judging by the deep sigh of relief, Y/N could prevent it from happening.

She turns on the tab, fills the glass with water, turns the tab off and walks back into the room.

“There you go,” she says, handing me the small brown bottle and water. 

The mattress dips a bit when she sits down next to me with one of the bowls filled with cereal in her hands. After stirring the spoon around like she is trying to evade something, Y/N finally takes a first careful bite. Nevertheless, she starts eating properly after I kiss her temple, which is an apparently effective form of encouragement. I have to remember that. 

Quietly seated in the golden sunlight, we have our first breakfast together. I don’t mind her watching me as I’m taking my medication, measuring out the amount Jinyoung told me to take. Or, rather, as much as the label notes I should. Immediately my gag reflex is triggered when I put them in my mouth, the taste of bitter metal extremer than before so it’s like licking one of the rusted over buoys drifting in the harbour.

He’s increased the nightshade and silver. Damn, I think even the worst coffee tastes better than this.

“That bad?”

“Yep.” I open and close my mouth, nauseous due to the sickening taste lingering on my tongue. To prevent the bile rising in my throat from escaping, I gulp down the water. Unfortunately, it only washes down part of the bitterness.

She holds up a spoon with milk-soaked granola to feed to me, but I turn it down and shake my head. I might actually throw up if I eat anything right now. 

Disappointment flashes across her face, though it’s gone in an instant as she puts her bowl down and stands up. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

“But... food,” I meekly offer and point at the half-empty bowl on the nightstand. She should put herself before me. 

Because I’ll be fine.

“We’re missing something important. Coffee,” the bunny-like lady playfully responds before she bounces off again to the kitchen.

The pleasant and slightly sweet scent of instant cappuccino warms the apartment, replacing the sharp scent of frozen water alluding to hail later on in the day. It’s a little early in the year, but soon the first snows will fall.

Hopefully, she’ll move before then so we can spend Christmas in her cottage. Although, it doesn’t even have to be the holidays. I’d light a fire, drape a blanket over our shoulders and keep Y/N close to warm her with mine as we read and look at the snowfall.

Like a snowflake falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling before our eyes, so we pass through life. At this rate, I think the next snowfall might be the last I’ll see.

Consciously.

Meaningfully.

Like a human.

The snowflake will faintly fall on the man I am, descend on the husk I’m becoming, while she will continue living.

Without me.

The living and the dead.

I smile wistfully until the same shot of pain treks through me as when I tried to fill in the gaps of the fragmented memory. Folded in on myself, cold sweat on my skin and short of breath, I press my palms against my snout to push the agony away.

The pained groaning must have alarmed the pretty lady because she rushes to my side and pushes one of the mugs in her little paws… hands in mine. “Here, take a sip. The caffeine will help.”

As told, I nip at the hot beverage. Indeed, the cappuccino lessens the headache and cold shivers that ran down my spine and threatened to spread. Though I dislike instant coffee, it actually tastes good when she prepares it. I sigh in relief, blow on the coffee to cool it down, and slowly drink it while Y/N caresses my jaw and ear just the way I like it. At the same time, she comforts me with her soothing voice, murmuring words of solace and assurance as she sits down next to me again. 

I could listen to you all day. Maybe I should ask you to read to me sometime. Although, not maybe. I’ll ask it later. Note to self, write a note on your phone to ask her to read to you. Also, make note of kissing her temple.

My reverie is broken up by a comment which rubs me the wrong way. “I have to go to the office later today-’’

“Already? You just got home.”

“They’re counting on me, Jae. Besides, I’m not that jet-lagged.”

“It’s not healthy. You should stay home. Rest,” I bark. Her eyes widen, taken aback by my bluntness.

She opens and closes her mouth, planning to say something yet deciding against it. Instead, she tugs my ear. “I’ll be fine. And you have your shop to look after, so let’s both work hard today.”

“Still,” I take another sip, “I don’t think you should go.”

“As long as I have caffeine, I should be able to manage. How about this? I’ll come to your shop as soon as I’m done with work and cook for us. We’ll have a cosy night in like we had last night.”

“Last night was ‘cosy’ indeed,” I murmur, hoping she catches on to what I’m alluding to.

“It was. I really liked it.” Her lashes flutter with the memories of last night, cheeks tinged pink. Unfortunately, the heartstopping girlish giggle is short-lived and becomes serious too soon. “But while I did, I think we shouldn’t do it again so soon.”

“Agreed,” I respond, mind occupied by the ripples of transformation and the splashes of pain wanting to remember something significant only communicated in incomprehensible flashes.

Distorted.

Like the memories of the forest.

I need to call Jinyoung. He needs to know.

 “What shall we eat tonight?”

The change in subject is welcome, but also a confusing bridge to cross. How can humans go from severe to casual without a care? The aspect of communication has me furrow my brows as I try to work out the mech… work… nuts and bolts behind it. Nevertheless, I answer the question. “I thought you had a plan already.”

The corners of her mouth curl up into a cat-like grin. “I have no idea, so that’s why I’m asking you. You’re a better chef than I am.”

“I’m not that good,” I murmur, my ears lowered like a shy pup. “But I’d like something we can make together.”

“Pancakes?”

“Yes!’’ I bark, leaning in and grabbing the sheets to contain the excitement at cooking together. ‘’Yes, I’d like that!”

A flicker of doubt passes over her face, hesitant in the way she tends to be when it concerns food. However, a second later, she taps me on the nose with a content hum. “Pancakes it is.”

While Y/N showers, I clean the dishes and pull the sheets off of the bed so she can bring them to the laundry. Although, maybe I could do it myself. I’d have to text Jinyoung for instructions since he always does mine, but even then it shouldn’t be too difficult. Humans do laundry all the time. It’s part of their routine and if they can do it, so can I.

I hope.

As I’m making the bed and contemplating the process to get at least the blood stain out of the fabric, my mate walks back into the room. Her wet hair is bundled up in a towel that’s smaller than the one wrapped around her body. The addition of the scents of cherry blossoms and matcha to the blend of summer fruits drives me dizzy as she moves to the wardrobe.

I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help looking as the towel falls to the floor to reveal her naked body. An appreciative growl unconsciously rises from my throat, a surge of heat culminating between my legs.

Just one more time. I’ll keep myself in check. Behave. I’ll behave.

“Jaebeom,” cheeks flushed, Y/N glances over her shoulder, “don’t even think about it.”

“Sorry,” I mumble as I shuffle to her side to help her put on her bra by closing the clasps. When they click in place, I place a kiss between her shoulder blades, feeling her shiver against my lips. “I know what we agreed on.”

I wrap my arms around her waist and let my head rest on her shoulder. Eyes closed, I try to keep a clear mind as she scratches me behind the ear.

“It’s not necessarily... that.” Her voice is light, wanting to move past the concerns of last night with humour. “It’s rather the thought I wouldn’t get to leave for the office at all if we go back to bed.”

“You’re right.” I decide to play along, if only to give us both some peace of mind. So, I bury my nose in the side of her neck, nuzzling her and earning myself a bird-like giggle that spreads a nice fuzzy feeling inside. “I wouldn’t let you go. We’d read the day away with coffee.”

“Tea, in your case. Doctor’s orders. I don’t want you bouncing around the place. You’re my calm, well, sort of calm bookish wolf. Not a supercharged husky.”

It’s a lame joke, but nevertheless makes me laugh.

“What will you wear today?” I ask, glancing at the clothes on the hangers.

Here and there, there’s a colourful item in the collection. Withal, the majority of the items are mono… one-toned... black and white items to be switched up with a dark-shaded checkered blouse.

My attention drifts to the long white dress with lemons. The fabric is on the thin side, which makes it suitable for summer or a warm spring.

I’d love to see you in that dress, if only just once.

She pouts her lips. “I was thinking about grey high-waisted jeans with a black button-up shirt and ankle boots.”

“Wear my hoodie,” I whine, upset my… my girlfriend. That sounds nice. My girlfriend. It makes me upset that my girlfriend doesn’t plan on wearing one of the things I gave her. “You like the grey one, right?”

“I do, but-’’

“Then wear it.”

She sighs, shakes her head and turns around to look up at me. “There’s something like a dress code at the office.”

“Don’t care.” I nudge her nose with mine, bark lowered to a woof to persuade her to go with my choice. “You’ll look better. More pretty.”

“If you put a pair of boxers on, I’ll wear the hoodie. Deal?”

“But they’re uncomfortable. I only wore them because Jinyoung told me to.”

“Then I won’t wear the hoodie.” Little devilish will-o’-the-wisps light up her eyes as the corners of her mouth curl up into a taunting grin. “Shame. Now my colleagues won’t get to see I have a boyfriend.”

The tables have flipped since I’m apparently not the only one who’s good at using their charms.

Nevertheless, reluctant to start a fight over this, I let out a compromising chuff. “Okay, fine.”

Humans and their clothes. I like yours, but you’d look even better in mine. Still, I’m only doing this because I want every male at your office and in the city to know you’re mine.

No matter what size they are, clothing is a thing I absolutely haven’t missed. Notwithstanding, to please my mate, I wriggle myself back into the tight short trousers and the loose pants to wear over them. Y/N gives me a warning look when she sees me fumbling with my shirt, hopefully missing out on the obvious clue I secretly hope she’ll let me off easy.

Of course she doesn’t.

“Yes, Jae, also the shirt,” she chastises me like a mother disciplines a rebellious pup. “And the shoes. You don’t want other people to call the cops after seeing a naked man in the streets.” Unaware of the fact I can hear her perfectly even as she mutters under her breath, she adds. ‘’Or me to pick you up at the police station because of it.’’ 

Amused by the funny image the fantastical scenario creates in my mind, I relent. “Yes, ma’am.”

Once we’re both dressed, Y/N makes way for the bathroom to do her makeup. Ignoring my protests it’s unnecessary since there’s nothing to hide or improve to make me love her more, she closes the door behind her and locks it.

There goes the plan of dragging her out of there by the collar to have her scratch my jaw and ear again instead. A much better way to pass the time, if you ask me.

In the meanwhile, I return to the bedroom to take a picture of the damage with my phone and send it to Jinyoung.

Jaebeom: We need to talk.

Immediately, I get a response.

Jinyoung: Yes, we absolutely do. Everything OK?

Jaebeom: Yes, Y/N is fine. Alive. A little shaken, but so am I. Well, we’re more than a little shaken. Fuck, Jinyoung, I don’t know what happened.

Jinyoung: I’ll drop by later today. I have to give a lecture in a bit and have to see a new patient afterwards. He’s going through the reintegration program right now and needs a little extra help.

Jaebeom: Help with what? What is he?

Jinyoung: A wolf. Not a standard case.

Jaebeom: Anything I can help with?

Jinyoung: I think you need to focus on yourself right now. I’ll be at the shop around two.

Footsteps disturb the silence, going from the bathroom to the hallway.

That was quick. Are females always this fast with applying their face?

It’s a funny phrase, ‘applying my face’. Also, it’s the argument the pretty lady used as the final word on the matter. But she already has a face so there’s no need to apply a second like some Greek god.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Ears perked, I glance around the corner into the living room and in Y/N’s direction.

“Work?” she answers sheepishly, looking back at me with her head slightly tilted to the side. In her hands is the black trench coat she was about to put on.

Fortunately, she’s kept her makeup natural with a golden brown eyeshadow, a bit of a black line to accentuate her eyes and something to enhance her lashes. It’s a natural look which some of the female customers could learn from with their fake lips or chest that makes them reek of silicone and plastic. Their makeup, often overemphasizing their fake features, doesn’t add to their supposed charm. In fact, it makes me turn my snout away even faster if their attitude already hasn’t.

I’d never offer them coffee or want them around more than once.

But not her.

Not Y/N.

I can’t remember if she wore the same makeup when we met, but I vaguely recall a sense of calm and need for protection alongside a strange recognition. A connection that would make all the puzzle pieces of my life fit together.

The missing last piece.

“Not so fast.” I swiftly move to her side to kiss her forehead. No way I’m letting her go without giving her at least one more.

“There,” I pet her head, griggling and sweeping my tail triumphantly, “now you’re free to go.”

“I wouldn’t have gone without telling you, you know?” She stands on the tip of her toes to peck me on the lips, slightly swaying side to side to keep her balance.

So I lean forward to make it easier for her and chuckle against her lips. “Have a good day at work, Y/N.”

“You too, Jae.”

And with that, she puts on her coat, grabs her bag and opens the front door. She lingers in the doorway, waving half-heartedly as a final word of goodbye.

I wave back, faking a smile to see her off without worry.

Being human again isn’t so bad.

However, the deadline is another story.

The shop is as tranquil as it is on any other day. The quietness of unread words hangs between the shelves, the only noise to disrupt the silence being the rustle of a page being turned. Seated by the window as per usual, listening to the hail in the dim light, I read the time away, but whereas it’s normally a form of amusement and pleasure, it now functions in part to forget this morning’s discovery.

I didn’t mean to pry, but I inspected Y/N’s bookshelves before I left her apartment. There was the usual assortment of classics, but also a lot of Asian fiction, a genre I haven’t delved into too much yet. So, of course with the intention of returning it, I took Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami with me.

She must have read it recently because her fruity scent still lingers on the paper. The summer blend distracts me to the point that the movement of the hands of the clock pass unnoticed in the background.

Regardless of the appointed time, it’s half past two instead of two o’clock that Jinyoung comes in. In his one hand he holds a carrier with two paper cups, the sleeves on them decorated with the silhouette of a black wolf and the name of the café printed in vintage letters beneath the design, the letters spelling out Wolf’s. Judging by the scent, it’s tea the doctor has brought with him. Apple cinnamon for me, since that’s the only one I like, and rooibos for himself.

In his other hand, he holds his bag. One of the claps has either not been fastened before he left or came undone along the way. Whatever the reason, it’s clear he came here in a hurry.

“Sorry I’m late. Christian and I had a lot more to discuss than we thought.” Jinyoung stumbles inside, puts the tea and his bag on the counter, and turns around to lock the door and flip the sign so we can talk in private.

A hint of leather mixed with coffee and wood is mixed in with his own.

Male.

Threat.

Teeth gritted and jaw clenched, I make a mental note to myself to keep this scent away from Y/N. To keep this Christian away from her.

“Jaebeom,” the other male sighs. His tone holds a silent warning of being close to breaking some kind of boundary.

“What?” The answer rolls off the tongue as a growl rather than an actual question. Not that it matters since he must have had a lot worse to endure from me. Besides, it’s not him I’m pissed at so he’s safe.

Although, the wild undertone in his already peculiar personal blend alludes to the opposite.

Has he always smelled like this or is this new? He is human, but then why does my instinct tell me to watch out for him, that there’s more than to him? Strange. 

“He’s no competition. I think he might have imprinted with my colleague, although neither he nor she might be aware of it.” He rolls his eyes. “The gods know whether Gráinne will do anything with it. I wonder if... no, I don’t think either of them told her anything.”

A grim wistfulness stains his voice, which ignites a curiosity about his colleague’s circumstances. Notwithstanding, that story will have to wait until another day and his willingness to tell me.

Still, I quickly fish my phone out of my pocket, open the notes app, and jot down a short reminder to ask about it at a later date.

“Anyway,” Jinyoung steps away from the door, hands me the cup with apple cinnamon tea, and gestures at the worn couch by the window overlooking the west side of the neighbourhood, “we’re here to talk about you. About the picture you sent.”

We move away from the counter to the sofa. A burst of hail spatters against the glass as we sit down.

I’m glad to have something to hold to conceal the shivers running through my body at the image of the claw mark mixed with the memory of what Y/N told me she felt. Or, rather, thought she felt although I’m certain she actually did feel the first ripples of transformation.

For a moment, we sit in silence as I mentally prepare myself for the conversation. Nipping on the tea with my shoulders curled over my chest, I try to reconstruct last night as best I can.

As much as my memory lets me.

To break the... something. There’s an idiom, no, a phrase? A saying.

I don’t know.

Not anymore.

To make it easier, likely noticing the struggle to say anything, Jinyoung speaks up. “There’s more than the photo. You’re leaving things out, things I need to know to help. What aren’t you telling me, Jaebeom?”

“Y/N-” I begin, my breath unsteady as I restart the sentence, “Y/N said she felt my skin move and if I try to remember last night, I can only recall fragments that give me a headache when I try to string them together. Which I can’t.”

He pales, frozen in place as the weird briny scent sours. “That shouldn’t-’’

“Shouldn’t happen,” I finish the remark. 

A horrifying idea arises that sets the hairs on the back of my neck on end and has me nervously tapping my thumbs together as I try not to squeeze the cup in my paws. Nonetheless, voice a low woof bordering on a melancholic whine, I tell the doctor what’s on my mind. “I think the pills stopped working. Completely. I- I don’t think-’’

The world stops, shrinks, and strings my chest as tight as a string as I shrink within myself. Each thought evaporates as fast as the flashes in the wolf’s memory, incoherent if meant to be sensible at all.

The snow hasn’t even come.

I can’t leave her alone.

I don’t want to leave this life.

I don’t want to go just when being human again starts to get good.

I don’t want to be the old me again.

  “I think so too,” Jinyoung agrees grimly. “If I increase the silver and nightshade or the doses it will kill you.”

He tilts his head to the side, eyes sharp with focus as he poses the question I’ve been wondering about myself. “Does she know what you are?”

I shake my head. I might be her weirdo wolf guy, but she’d never believe me if I told her what I really am. Besides, werewolves are the stuff of fiction these days.

We’re no longer seen as a real threat nor have the power and status we used to have in the days of yore. We are devoid of an identity acknowledged by humans.

But, if I don’t possess an identity, am I really here?

Alive?

Or dead like the wolf inside?

Paradise is calling, the song of the forest playing like a red thread through my broken memory.

Beckoning me home.

The woods are calling.

And I must not go.

Jinyoung’s new question pulls me out of my reverie, just in time before the train of thought would crash and burn. “Are you going to tell her?”

“No.” I take a sip of the sweet tea, to have a second of bliss and enjoy a new human pleasure.

Another happiness I discovered a little too late.

“Will you at least tell her about your meds?” Even though she’s seen me take them, Y/N doesn’t know what they’re for. But, then again, did she look at the label?

Regardless of whether she did or not, she’s perhaps not truly ignorant to the reason I have to take them. After all, she thinks they combat my amnesia, which is partially true. It’s a half-truth.

But the real reason is a secret I intend to keep.

“No,” I repeat, determined in my answer regardless of the world spinning out of control. “I won’t tell her.”

“She deserves that much, doesn’t she? She’s your girlfriend, Jay.’’ Although his features have softened, the doctor’s voice rises to a fierce bark as he reinforces his point. ‘’Your mate.”

“I can’t tell her,’’ I retort, my bark closer to a growl than a civilized answer. Tears brim on the edge of my lashes, obscuring my vision in spite of my attempts to blink them away. The vision of Y/N by herself in the snow, on her knees in the middle of the orchard, blocks my throat and makes breathing harder than it already was. 

The vision changes to the image of a spring day close to summer, warm enough for her to wear the dress with the lemons. She’s seated in the same position between the trees which are now white and pink with blossom. However, whereas her belly was flat before, it’s now swollen, pregnant with pups.

My pups?

No, I have to stay here.

I have to survive the winter.

I have to be here if I ever change my mind and want to start a pack with her.

I must be here.

But the question is whether I actually can.

At this rate, I’m not sure.

I don’t know.

But I know enough to explain why I’m reluctant to tell my pretty lady anything. ‘’I can’t tell her, because the news will hurt her and I don’t want that. I don’t want to hurt her.”

Plus, what am I supposed to say? I’m a wolf that turned into a man and is slowly dying, going back to his old form in which it... he. Am human. In which he’ll be stuck until it- He! Am human! Until he dies?

“Y/N has to know about this, Jaebeom.’’ A hand on my shoulder makes me look up from the floor to the man next to me. ‘’How about I talk to her, tell her what you told me and discuss what our options are as well as a plan for the future?”

“You’re right.” I let out a mirthless griggle. “Fuck, I hate it when you are. But… But how will you… explain, uhm, explain… this- me! How will you explain me? What I am? For all she cares, werewolves are my- myth- fic-’’ I throw my head back, frustrated I can’t find the right word or properly speak.

Jinyoung gives me an encouraging squeeze, kindheartedly chuckling at my failure. “I know what you mean. Nobody comes into our world willingly or at least without a good reason. I think your... situation is enough of the latter for her to get involved too. She doesn’t have to join the branch, I’ll leave that up to her. But, if Y/N decides to believe me, or us for that matter, she’ll at least have a community to rely on when you, you know, you’re...”

“When I’m gone.’’ The hesitance to state the facts makes me grimace and my tone sharper than intended. ‘’We both know where this is heading so just say it.”

“Fine,’’ the doctor puts his hands up as if he’s at the risk of being shot ‘’when you’re gone.”

“What’ll happen to the shop?” I gesture around the paper paradise, changing the topic slightly. Books have been another treasure of humanity I will forever be grateful for, especially since I hopefully have created a legacy with them that’s worth keeping.

The doctor glances around, a somber expression on his face. “Either the university will keep it and maintain it as a potential workplace in the reintegration program or sell it off. I don’t know, real estate doesn’t fall within my jurisdiction.”

“Ah, I see.” I lower my head, gaze averted to the half-empty cup in my paws.

Funny how I once thought of making this a family business or to have at least my pup’s name on the spine of one of these books. If I ever had them, would they like to be a writer? Would Y/N tell them their absent father, I... I love... loved to read?

I force myself to forget the thought, swallow despite having a dry mouth, and shake my head. “Thank you. For wanting to tell her. She’ll come over tonight, so-’’

He holds up his hand to stop me. “I’ll text her so we can meet at a later date. She just returned from a business trip and had quite the evening with you. You two deserve a bit of rest.”

“But what if...”

It’s unlikely, but what if it happens again? What if I spin out of control tonight?

“Keep your temper in check and try to suppress your instinct,” Jinyoung answers matter-of-factly.

So, no sex.

Although the unspoken implication doesn’t come as a surprise, I can’t help but feel disappointed even though Y/N and I agreed on not doing it again so soon. Notwithstanding, it would be a lie to say I didn’t want to do it again this morning. But then there was the pool of blood and the amnesia that ruined our morning bliss.

All the same, flashes of what I do remember from last night replay in my mind.

They say once you’ve had a wolf, you never go back. Maybe because I won’t let you.

She looked beautiful, tears glistening in her eyes, equally as beautiful as her meek whimpers. She’s so small and fragile, easy to overpower.

To conquer.

“Your mind’s…. gutter again, isn’t it?” A groan sounds from somewhere on the side, distant like a faint echo

I was inside her.

In spite of the weird plastic, she felt nice.

Warm.

Wet.

I replay the image of her whimpering on the sheets as I looked down at her over and over. My hand on her cheek and Y/N keeping it in place. I should have used that second to dive down and worship her soft breasts more.

I could have bitten her there. Just a small bite on the side.

The snapping of a pair of fingers before my eyes interrupts the pleasant reverie. A bit offended, I snap around to growl at whoever took the pleasure of a cherished memory away.

 Only to face Jinyoung, who sighs and looks down at the bulge in my pants before pursing his lips with an exasperated knowing expression as he looks up. 

Scrambling to regain my composure and hardly remembering what he said, I answer as best I can. “No!”

“Then why are you drooling?”

[candy-and-writing]

Mr. Brightside

Request by @mmmmm-11​: Can I request a Cap fic in which he's pretty cold to the reader because he really doesn't know how to process his feelings and there is some jealously their in feeling both sides and then the smut 😅🤩

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, oral sex, fingering, jealous! Steve, Steve is low-key a dick

A/n: so this took way longer than I meant it to and it's also a lot longer than anticipated. Thank you so much for requesting this!! I had so much fun writing this piece

I am NOT responsible for your media content consumption. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and/or dark themes. By reading this work you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party app or website; if you are seeing this work anywhere other than tumblr and archiveofourown, it has been reposted without my permission.

Steve was silent as you sat in the back of the quinjet, your forehead bloody and uniform pulled down to your torso as Bruce tended to the bullet hole gaping in your shoulder. His shoulders were tense, his features drawn into a scowl as he glared at you, stewing in his own anger.

You knew you fucked up, if the blood seeping out of your shoulder and the burning building you barely escaped was any confirmation. Steve huffed, his hands slamming down on the table placed in the middle of the jet.

You had grown used to this—the sudden flip of his mood with you. Ever since you first joined, he was cold and angry with you. It didn't matter if all you did was try to make him happy, there was always something you did that made him annoyed with you. You had learned long ago how to hold yourself up against the angry super-soldier.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Steve suddenly shouted at you, his loud tone sending a dull throb through your temples. "I gave you an order, you could've blown the mission!"

"I was going after Strucker," you groaned, wincing as Bruce pressed a rag against your wound. "I didn't see the detonator. I'm sorry."

"'Sorry' isn't gonna cut it, Y/n. You compromised the mission. You're lucky I cut him off or else you'd in a lot more trouble."

"I get it, Cap, I do, but can we talk about this later. . . when I'm not bleeding out?" Your vision was blurring and your body was feeling alarmingly numb.

"No, we're gonna talk about this now."

"Steve," Bruce cut in, "I think Y/n is right. Maybe we can talk about this when she feels better?"

Steve's jaw clenched. He was quiet for a moment, and you were worried he was going to explode on you again. He looked over his shoulder, where the rest of the team was watching, and sighed. "Fine."

You let out a breath as he walked to the front of the jet. You leaned back, resting your head on the wall as you closed your eyes.

-

You left Bruce's lab an hour after you landed, your bullet wound all but healed and given painkillers for your concussion. You were still a little dizzy as you wobbled back to your room when you ran into Steve. He was wearing a slim workout shirt that looked two sizes too small and dark sweatpants, probably heading to the gym. You straightened your shoulders, bracing yourself. He looked you over, scowling before he pushed past you.

You stood there for a moment, shocked he hadn't started screaming at you the second he saw you. You blinked, jogging after him. "Steve, wait!"

He stopped, looking down at you as you stood in front of him. You let out a breath, your world spinning.

"I'm sorry," you said. "I should've listened to you. I should've waited for backup and I didn't and it almost cost us Strucker. I'm sorry."

Steve didn't say anything. He looked at you, irritation gnawing at his features. He mumbled out a small, "It's fine," before turning away.

You bit the inside of your cheek to distract you from the pang in your chest. You should be used to it by now—his aloofness. That didn't mean it still didn't sting, though.

You had no idea what you did to make Captain America hate you. Hell, you didn't think he had the capability to hate anyone. When you first joined the team, scared and defensive, you were just there to follow orders—because Fury had not-so-subtly given you an ultimatum that threatened your life. You were good at what you did, you were good at following orders. You stood in the background and did what people told you to do. Being a HYDRA pawn will do that to you.

But then people opened up to you. Bucky was the first one—being the former Winter Soldier, he knew what it was like to have your life taken away by HYDRA. And for some reason, he trusted you, even if you hadn't spoken a word to him. Natasha and Clint were next, then Tony, and soon the whole team treated you like you were apart of their family. But Steve didn't. You'd been with the team for months, and you were no closer to him than you were to that automatic corkscrew in the kitchen that you could never get to work.

You showered, changed, and sat on your bed for exactly twenty seconds before you realized you were done. If Steve wasn't going to tell you what his problem was, maybe someone else could.

You walked into the lounge area, finding Bucky and Sam squabbling over the remote.

"C'mon, man," Sam argued. "I got a recorded episode of the Voice that is callin' my name!"

"Watch it in your room, Wilson. The Great British Baking Show is on and I'm already watching it."

You smirked to yourself, moving to stand in front of them until one of them finally noticed you. It was your best tactic with the two of them, waiting patiently until they were done with. . . whatever they were doing. You rested your hands at your sides, eyebrow quirking when Sam called Bucky's hair 'greasy', which highly offended Bucky.

Bucky had just pulled the remote out of Sam's hands when he finally saw you. "Oh, hey, doll. How long ya' been standing there?"

You shrugged. "Not important. . . can I talk to you?"

Bucky kicked Sam out of the lounge area, who dragged himself out of the room mumbling to himself about his show. You sat down beside Bucky, crossing your legs and folding your hands in your lap.

"So," Bucky ran a hand through his hair, " what did you want to talk about?"

You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment, looking down at your hands as you asked the question that had been haunting you since you arrived at the Compound. "Why does Steve hate me?"

Bucky blinked, then started chuckling. You frowned.

"What?"

"You think—" he paused, sucking in a breath. "Well, I don't blame you. He hasn't exactly been kind to you, has he?"

You scoffed. "No, he hasn't. Did I do something? Is. . . is it because of what I used to do—you know—before this?"

"No, doll, it's not that. Trust me."

You weren't convinced. "Are you sure? Because—"

"Trust me, Y/n, I'm sure." Bucky smiled at you. A teasing smile, like he knew something you didn't.

"Well, can you tell me what's going on, then?" you sighed. "Because I'm getting a little tired of the cold shoulder."

Bucky pursed his lips, his eyes squinting slightly like he was thinking. You stared at him, waiting for his answer.

"You know the party Tony's throwing tomorrow?" Bucky said suddenly.

You frowned, not seeing what that had to do with the conversation. "Yeah. . . ?"

"All you have to do is show up. And wear something cute."

You raised an eyebrow, a smile breaking your lips amidst your confusion. "Don't I always, Soldat?"

--

You had managed to avoid Steve's austere glare until the party. You knew he would be there for professional appearances, being Captain America and all.

You had shuffled the dress up your body—the silky black fabric tickling your thigh. You stood in front of your mirror, back facing the glass as you struggled to turn your head at the right angle and tie the criss-cross strings racing down your back. This dress had been Natasha's, but had grown too small for her, so she gave it to you. She and Wanda did that with many of their clothes, seeing as how when you showed up at the Compound you had half a duffel bag of clothes to your name—all of which you'd stolen from different shops.

You had opted to leave your hair down, letting your locks fall past your shoulders in loose curls. You did your makeup in record time, finishing the look off with a red velvet lipstick.

Dragging your hair over one shoulder, you clipped the pearl choker necklace Tony had given you for Christmas around your neck, letting it rest on your collar. You weren't expecting anything from anyone for Christmas—you'd never even celebrated Christmas before coming onto the team. Tony's gifts were personal, whether they be deep and meaningful or jokingly hilarious. As he handed you a long, thin box, he had apologized—you were so quiet and reclusive he wasn't sure what you wanted, so he bought you this necklace. That was the first time you hugged Tony.

Slipping on a pair of sleek black heels, you looked yourself over in the mirror once more before leaving your room. You could hear the commotion of the party from your area of the living quarters, music echoing off the walls and people dressed in button-down shirts and fancy dresses.

As you stepped down the stairs, your eyes fell on Bucky, who was playing pool with Steve and Sam. Steve was smiling, laughing at something Sam had said as he sunk the ball into the corner pocket. You smiled to yourself, ignoring the pang of jealousy you felt in your chest. Why couldn't he smile like that at you?

Bucky had noticed you descending the stairs, perking up. He said something to Steve, walking off towards you. Steve frowned, his gaze following Bucky's path when his eyes landed on you. His shoulders stiffened and he shifted on his feet as looked back at Sam. You met Bucky in the middle of the room, giving him a small smile.

"Damn, doll," Bucky smirked. "You look good." You chuckled, cheeks heating up.

"Well," you looked down at your dress, "you said to wear something cute. What exactly do you have planned?"

"You'll see." He laughed at the scowl you gave him. He grabbed two cocktails from a wandering server, handing one to you. "Here—have a drink and come join us."

"Oh, no, I shouldn't. Steve looks like he's enjoying himself and. . . I'd hate to ruin his good mood." Your gaze turned sad without you even realized. Bucky wanted to smack Steve upside the head all over again—he was hurting you, alienating you and all you were trying to do was be a part of the team.

"You won't, trust me. Please? Sam keeps bragging about being the best pool player of his squadron and I'm having a hard time not punching him in his big mouth. It'd be nice to have someone around who isn't on their high-horse."

You giggled, struggling to take a sip of your drink. "Fine, but he starts chastising me, I'm out."

You followed Bucky back to the pool table, Steve glaring daggers at you and Bucky as the soldier picked up his cue stick.

-

You weren't sure how long you watched the boys play pool, but four drinks later you were tipsy and almost oblivious to Steve's lingering stare. Bucky knocked the eight ball into a corner pocket, yelling out a shout of victory as he won the game. Sam rolled his eyes.

Someone stood beside you and cleared their throat, prompting you to turn your head. Thor stood next to you, his hair pulled away from his face and donning a long red coat and dark wash jeans.

"Lady Y/n." He smiled at you, holding his hand out as you blushed. You always blushed when he called you that. "Would you care for a dance?"

"Uh—" You looked over at Bucky, who was smirking. He tilted his head, motioning for you to go. Your eyes wandered up at Steve, who looked like he was about ready to throttle Thor. He really did hate the idea of his team socializing with you. Smiling to yourself, you looked back at Thor. "Actually, I'd love to."

You walked off with Thor, stopping just before you left their line of sight. It was petty, what you were doing—using Thor to deliberately piss off your Captain. But he didn't leave you much of a choice. Thor rested his hand on your waist, his large fingers brushing against your bare back. You shivered, putting your hand on his shoulder. He held your other hand as you two swayed to the music.

"You look lovely tonight, Y/n," Thor said, looking down at you through his eyelashes. You thought your cheeks were warm from the alcohol, but after that comment, your face was burning. You were sure your cheeks were a bright red.

"Th-thank you," you stuttered. You cleared your throat. "You. . . uh—you look nice, too. I like your jacket."

Thor chuckled. "You do not have to be so nervous, Y/n. It is only a dance."

"Yeah, well, I've never really danced before. . . like actually danced. I've danced for missions before, but things never really ended well for my partner."

"Well, I do hope things end better for me."

You giggled. "Well, I haven't been hired to kill you, so I think you're good." You nervously laughed at your joke, hoping it wasn't as awkward as you thought it was.

You danced with Thor until he invited to get a drink with him. You sat at the bar, nursing a cocktail Natasha made for you while Thor was telling you about the time he battled a pack of trolls in the mountains of Svartalfheim.

When the party was over, you were still talking to Thor. You thanked him for dancing with you, making sure to tell Bucky goodnight. You walked up the staircase, heading toward your room when you stopped. Steve stood in front of your door, arms crossed and frowning.

"Steve?" He turned his head, meeting your confused gaze. "Can I. . . can I help you with something?"

"We need to talk," he said curtly.

"O-Okay." You were overtly aware of the click of your heels as you opened your door for him, letting him enter your room. You carefully let the door slide closed behind you, staring at Steve. "Do you want anything to drink? I can get you a glass of water? Or I think I still have some beer Bucky left in the fridge?"

That had been the wrong thing to say. You watched his eyes darken, lips curling into a snarl as he shoved you up against your wall. His grip on your biceps was borderline painful, his nose inches from yours and you could feel his hot breath fanning your face.

"Don't talk about Bucky. Not now."

You swallowed thickly, Steve watching the line of your throat. "Okay, I won't. I'm sorry."

You fell silent, stuck staring at Steve's features. The barely-there green in his eyes, the crease of his eyebrows, the lines of his frown, his lips. You didn't realize he was doing the same to you until his breathing calmed. You licked your lips nervously, Steve staring at the dart of your tongue. And then his lips were on yours.

You stood frozen—shocked—for only a moment before closing your eyes and moving your lips against his. He let go of your arms, letting you wrap them around his neck and pulling him closer, moaning into his mouth. His tongue darted into your mouth, kissing you like you've never been kissed until you were breathless and had to pull away.

Your lips were red and swollen, eyes closed as you rested your hands on Steve's chest, playing with a button on his shirt.

"Steve—"

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, voice husky. "I'm sorry I've been so mean to you. I just—I didn't know how to deal with my feelings about you."

"Shut up," you breathed. "And kiss me."

His lips crashed onto yours again, his hands on your hips as he pulled you closer into his body. The kiss was needy and possessive, the intensity of it almost frightening, the raw need and hunger behind his actions overwhelming you.

His mouth moved down your jaw, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck. You fumbled behind you, undoing your dress and letting it pool at your feet. He picked you up effortlessly and you wrapped your legs around his narrow waist, hands cupping his face. He tossed you down on your bed, ripping open his blue button-down and throwing it on the floor. He pulled the white undershirt over his head, dropping it with his shirt while you kicked off your heels.

He crawled up the bed, hovering over you as he leaned down to kiss you. Just a quick peck before he moved to kiss your collar bone, his hands roaming up your thighs. One hand reached under you and you arched your back, letting him unclip your bra and slide the straps off your shoulders. He kissed along the skin he exposed, pulling the fabric down past your breasts.

He mouthed at the soft swell of your chest, sucking a red mark into your skin. He pinched your nipple lightly, rolling it between his forefinger and thumb and you jumped, arching your back. You inhaled a sharp, shaky breath when Steve popped a nipple into his mouth, his tongue lapping over the bud and swirling it around.

He continued to work down your body, kissing lower and lower and sucking marks into your skin at random intervals. He sucked a bruise in the divot between your ribs, one above your belly button, and one just above your underwear. As he peeled your lace panties off your legs and dropped them on the floor, he kissed back up your leg, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your thigh.

You were panting, squirming as his lips met just shy of where you needed them most. You almost screamed when his tongue finally connected with your little bud. He used the tip of his tongue first, just circling your clit as you whined, his thick finger slipping into your center. He pumped his finger in and out of you leisurely, suckling at your bundle of nerves before he quickly added a second finger.

You continued this until you were right on the precipice of orgasm, and when his fingers curled and brushed against that spot inside of you, your moan broke in your throat. The taut rubber band in your stomach snapped, muscles spasming as your head fell back against your pillows, Steve licking up your mess.

Steve moved up your body and kissed you, your release coating his face and you could taste yourself on his tongue. His hands went to your hips and he suddenly flipped you so you were straddling his thighs. You deepened the kiss, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks as Steve adjusted his length to meet your center, letting you slide onto him at your own pace.

He was large. Thick and long and your tight heat clutched around him in a marvelous way and he wasn't even halfway in. Steve had broken the kiss, leaning back and his eyes fluttering shut as he marveled in the feel of you clutching him like a vice.

"Shit, sweetheart," he panted. "You feel so good."

You bottomed out, letting yourself adjust to his size before you rocked forward. You both moaned. Your clit rubbed against his pelvis as you rolled your hips harder, your hands falling to his chest for stability. His hands rested on your waist, letting you move as you desired.

"St—Steve," you whimpered, picking up your pace. The tip of his length hit a certain spot inside you and you gasped, your nails digging into his skin, his body moving in tandem with yours.

You were unbelievably close. Steve hugged you close to his chest, his lips meeting your breast as he mouthed at your nipple, groaning as he ran his hands up and down your sides. He worked his way up your neck, sucking your sensitive skin as he thrust his hips up into you and that was all it took before you were coming. You cried out his name, gasping and whimpering as your head fell into the crook of his neck.

"Fuck!" Steve groaned, thrusting several more times as your walls hugged him and he stiffened inside you, throwing his head back as he growled, his cock pulsating as he came.

Panting, he carefully laid you next to him, admiring your blissed-out gaze as he pulled your blankets over the two of you, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You smiled at him, your lipstick smeared as you opened your eyes.

"So I guess this is what Bucky was talking about?" you asked, mostly to yourself.

"What do you mean?"

"I talk to Bucky yesterday after I ran into you, I thought he might know what was going on with you. He just kinda laughed at me and told me you didn't hate me. . . . Did he know? About how you felt?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, he did."

You chewed on your lip in thought. "He said he had a plan. That during the party—oh m.y God."

"What?"

"Thor. Thor was the plan." You looked up at Steve. "Bucky knew you would get jealous so he asked Thor to dance with me."

Steve laughed. "In my defense, Thor was getting way too handsy."

You giggled. "Remind me to make Bucky some cookies tomorrow."

Steve rolled over you, caging you in his arms as he grinned down at you. Your eyebrow arched playfully. He bent down and kissed you, your hands coming up to run along his pecs. He pulled away, his smile sparkling even in the darkness of your room. You swooned, knowing that his smile was something you would never tire of seeing.

"Sleep," Steve told you. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 8

Summary:  Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 2345

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start, obviously fighting and such

What Murtagh said and how he stared at you was quite unsettling, what could you possibly mean by a ‘woman’ taking care of Jamie? You were quite sure Laohaire was a woman and could take nice care of Jamie. That thought didn’t settle well either, but you couldn’t understand why. It felt like it was something you had buried deep in your soul, so deep you could only focus on getting back home to your family – Davy. When you were preparing for the gathering, you tried to think about what your brother was doing and whether he felt alone or abandoned. The guilt of your lack of fight or focus on getting home crept into your body and weighed you down.

Angus entered the surgery, “Lass, the festivities are about to be going, let’s make our way up.”

You nodded at him and started to walk up, “Do I look like I’ll fit in up there?”

“You’ll fit in plenty enough, enough for a colony lass,” he muttered to you. “Just stay out of trouble, I’ve got my mind on-.”

You rolled your eyes, putting your hand to stop in from continuing, “Angus, I get you want to find a lady and I promise to not get in the way. I still got a ton of work to do before tomorrow’s hunt. I do not plan to stay long, which is what I told Mrs. Fitz. The laird gave me a job, I intend to do well.”

“Just do as your told,” he pushed you forward. You fought every bone and muscle in your body not to thrash him about. No matter the effort, you could not win the trust of some of the people here Angus and Dougal included. You could only kill someone with kindness so much before you take someone’s throat out with your fists.

Mrs. Fitz passed by you, “You look lovely in that dress, my dear. I told you, now some man will come and sweep you up, though I’ll hate to see the day someone takes you from us.”

You could see Murtagh rolling his eyes, as you looked down at the people prepping from the oath ceremony. You bit the inside of your cheek, “Mrs. Fitz, I told you. I do not intend to marry, I have a family waiting for me back by Inverness. I’m just buying my time.”

“That reminds me, Gale Allister left your payment in the kitchen by the flour. Thought it was best she avoids the surgery with all your business getting ready for hunt,” she shared with you.

“Thank you Mrs. Fitz, I’m not sure what I’d do without you,” you half hugged her. You tried to ignore the suspicious look from Murtagh. You had been finding little chores and such to help the community here, as well earn money that will help foster your escape home. “Murtagh, where is Mister McTavish? I’d assume he’d be here for the oath taking.”

Murtagh glanced down at you, trying to avoid making too much eye contact with you, “Leave the man be right now. He’s best to be not seen during the swearing ceremony. I feel you’ve tortured the man enough for a life time.”

“What are you on about, I do not torture anyone?” Collum entered the room starting the ceremony with Dougal. It was actually quite beautiful, full of tradition, and honor.

“You’re torturing me right now, lass,” Murtagh grumbled under his breath.

Mrs. Fitz pinched Murtagh’s arm to shush him, “If they are all the same, I’m off to get more work done. Keep me posted Mrs. Fitz,” you kiss her cheek and skip away to your work space. Angus caught sight of you and followed, “Angus, I pinky swear I will not wonder away and get you in trouble with Dougal.”

He gripped her arm, “No, no, no – you have to stay up here until I find a lady-.”

“Too much Angus, too much,” you stopped him quickly. “Here,” you pass Angus a necklace given to you by your mother, “This is my necklace given to me by mom before she died.” Angus looked immediately concerned you were going to get emotional, “As long as you hold that necklace, I’m not going anywhere. Go enjoy the gathering.”

He looked at the necklace in his hand to you, “You sneak off girl, I’ll gut you. Stay in the surgery, no wandering off like you like to.”

You put your two fingers up like you were a scout. Angus gave you a strange look before motioning you down to the surgery, “Angus,” you called to him, he looked back at you quickly, “You lose that, I promise no laird will stop me from taking your balls.”

He waved you off, laughing to himself, “A lady with a mouth like yours.”

You were only partially concerned Angus would lose your necklace. You had made your way to the surgery, but stopped on the last stair. You had already prepared for the hunt with your materials and such. You didn’t want to stay at the ceremony because it made you think of your past with the Marines and your brother with your traditions. Davy would be so impressed by seeing some of his heritage. He would probably love this whole experience. Think of the hunt the next day, you grew sick and worried. You were never a hunter; you had a soft spots for most animals. You had trouble killing spiders, though your history with war was quite the contradiction. Your brother constantly made fun of you for it. The thought of animals made you think of your horse. Your promised Angus you would stay put, but it’s not like you planned to escape. You just wanted to drop off your medical supplies and check on your horse. The stable hand made it seem like your horse wasn’t part of the elite, which made you like her more.

On the way to the stables, you used your military expertise to get past the men. You didn’t need Angus to find out you lied to him. A few drunken clansmen tried to take advantage of you being an alone woman. This immediately made you pissed for the lady folk in the area, the amount of women who had to be assaulted made you sick. One guy had gotten a swipe at you and your lip was bleeding. You made it to the stables, nursing your lip. You were going to take your time getting back to the surgery, this was probably the safest place for you outside your surgery space. Lost in your thoughts of consequences, you tripped over a mass. You rolled onto your back with a knife in hand, pressing it to the neck of a person and they were doing the same to you, “Deoiridh.” Jamie immediately released you, sitting up to give you space, “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask the same to you, sir,” you shot back at him. Your temper was rising with the amount of times you had to keep your guide up during this time period. Jamie stared at you a little longer than you liked, he was hoping for a better answer, “I was checking on my horse for the hunt. I have a soft spot for her and I wanted to drop off my stuff now, so I wouldn’t have to have hungover Angus complaining in the morning.”

Jamie chuckled to himself, “Thoughtful lass.” He paused for a second, “Y/N, you alright?” He put his hand up, leaning in closer to get a look at your bleeding lip, “Did that just happen,” he asked with guilt seeping off his voice.

He took out some cloth and tried to dab at your lip, “I had an issue coming over here with some clansmen,” you mumbled, trying to find the right words. You didn’t need Jamie telling Collum of your violent assault to some of their men. You didn’t kill them, but they will probably be concussed and be missing the hunt the next day.

He shot up, “Did they,” he pulled you up to closer inspect you.

You pushed him back gently, “No, no.” You hesitated and tried to figure out the best way to share it with him, “I knocked them out before anything could happen.”

Jamie’s laugh filled the room, finally dulling down to lean against the horses pen, “You’re a deadly woman Deoiridh. I’ve seen you teaching some stuff to the kids, but I didn’t think you could take out Mackenzie men without more than a busted lip. You sure your alright,” he tried to cup you neck again to look closer at your lip.

His hands were rough, but it a way you’ve never felt. It was like your body was on fire, but wanting to crave more it. Electricity surges your body, “I’m fine,” you whispered, “I’ve had plenty worse.”

“These men are lucky you got to them first,” he said trying to relax his jaw. You should tell a piece of him was bothered by you being attacked. Something inside him wanted to crash out of the stables and slaughter the men who would do such damage to his friend, at least that’s what you were telling yourself.

“Murtagh mentioned you weren’t going to the ceremony for the gathering,” you reached into your bag, “I was going to stop by your hut, residence place,” you weren’t sure what to call his little bed area. You passed him some food from the kitchen.

He shook his head, “Again with the thoughtfulness, you seem to care an awful lot about my wellbeing.”

“Shut up,” you shove him as he laughs at you. You could see he was trying to get a raise out of you since you pushed him to talk to Laoghaire, “You’re my friend Jamie. You were the first one who was nice to me here, well before you tossed me over your shoulder and proceeded to act like chauvinistic tool.”

He grinned at you, “Well, you are probably the most unique, thoughtful, and caring women I know. Besides when you are prodding me and calling me mean names.” He put the bag of food down next to his makeshift bed, “We should get you back to the castle, I bet Angus won’t be taken to kindly to your journey to the stables.”

“I can get back on my own. Murtagh told me to leave you alone, something about the ceremony, which is none of my business,” you mumbled away, trying to push whatever you are feeling way down. “I took down three clansmen and you, I think I can get back on my own,” you look down at Jamie sitting on the ground.

He pulled himself up towering over you, “Me,” he questioned, “I think I’d remember you taking me anywhere,” he pulled your shawl tighter to your body. “Now let’s go, me walking you back is not up for debate.”

You rolled your eyes and jogged up next to him, “Suit yourself, but Murtagh doesn’t like me enough as it is. If you get caught or whatever, I’m not to blame you tell him that.”

Jamie stopped you at the door, leaning in close to your face to whisper, “Murtagh likes you plenty, believe me if he didn’t like you he’d ignore you. Now let’s go before you get me caught.”

“Jamie,” you whispered harshly, holding tightly on the back of his shirt waddling after him. With your face slightly pressed to his back as you both giggled out the stables, there was something about his smell. You’d assumed he’d smell like most rotting, sweating men. Being in the marines and being in the desert for long periods of time, you were pretty much used to it. But it was different with Jamie, your psychology background pushed towards his manly man pheromones. You pushed those thoughts away and tipped toed with Jamie through the McKenzie camp. You and Jamie got back to your work space without Angus knowing any different. You stood at the bottom of your stairs, looking up at the now ever more towering Jamie, who was grinning down at you, “Do you think you can get back without being caught, remember what I said about Murtagh, you wanted me to be nice and make friends?”

He looked down, trying to hold back his amused expression, “Yeah, I think I’ll manage.”

“When are you going to tell me why you are avoiding being seen during the gathering, aren’t they your family,” you questioned, trying to change the subject to something less flirty.

“It’s a bit complicated, maybe one day I’ll tell you. But for now, I’m off before I get you into trouble with Murtagh. You should go up and spend some time with the clan, it might be worth learning a bit more,” he gestured up the stair. He leaned closer again, “Maybe you can butter up Murtagh, get on his sweet side.”

“What sweet side,” you countered. Jamie shook his head, trying his best to not be amused by you, “Plus, I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea. He isn’t really my type.”

The look he gave you in that moment was something you rarely got to see in men, “What exactly is your type.”

“Not a dumb brute really, I’m not a picky woman,” you shrug walking further away from Jamie’s glances.

“That I don’t believe for a second. Try to stay out of trouble, hate you save you from Angus again,” Jamie started to make his way up the stairs.

“Jamie,” you call up to him, he turns to look at you one more time before he gets on his way to his hide away, “I never need saving.” Again, he held back a smirk, before trying back up the stairs again. You didn’t know how he did it, but you got to you again with those stupid hidden smiles and teasing. It’s like he knew exactly what to say to get a rise out of you.  

Part 9

 Taglist:  @doctorwhatwhenandwhere @damnedandbroken @blushingpogue @blancastans @slytherinambitious @kinky-asher

[saphirered]

Late Night  Caleb Widogast x reader

*You got in the splash zone of a fireball and have a good post battle talk with the caster assuring him it’s not his fault you got hurt*

The fight was turning and not in your favour. Two away from the main fight. One down. You use your staff to swing at your opponent and deflect a blow from another with the other end. Behind you you saw Fjord looking between you and the unconscious wizard on the docks. 

“Go! I’ll be fine!” You shouted swiping the legs out from under one of the crew members. Within a second Fjord teleported away and started making his way toward Caleb. You started going the same way too but on the gangplank you were met with the Captain herself. She came at you with her rapier and you just managed to avoid the first hit but the second one cut into your arm pretty deeply. You’ve had much worse though but with the ship behind you and Avantika in front you couldn’t really go anywhere. She kept attacking you but you managed to hold your ground landing some good hits yourself but the fight seemed far from over until a red light shot out from the far docks hitting the ship. The heat of a fireball burned at your side and you were flung off the gangplank barely making it onto the docks. Avantika seemed to be fine and just out of range but now you were far enough away from her. Grunting you got up, your entire left side of your body tingling, scorched red and bleeding. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been had you been at the centre like some of the unlucky crew members but it still hurt a good bit. You ignored the pain and as the Captain looked behind her to see you get up with a smirk and a wave taking a sprint as far as you could until you were stopped by guards. You held up your hands in surrender and just followed along with the others. 

From your position you could see Caleb standing frozen in place eyes glazed over arm stretched out as the guards grabbed him. Though from what you could see, the wizards wouldn’t be in the right mind to cast spells any time soon. Everyone went along and you were begging the gods the plan worked out and Beau and Jester got the book to the Plank King.

——————————————————————————

Everything had worked out fine in the end… at least as well as to be expected and the Nein now had ownership of the Squalleater and were back on sea with their crew, all banished from Darktow. The sun set a few hours ago and you took watch as you felt like sleep would not come to you easily anyway. Jester and Caduceus had been able to heal your injuries but you still felt like you had taken a dive off a cliffside onto the rocks. You stand on the deck watching the sky, the sails blowing in the wind and into the vast darkness of the never ending sea, Darktow now far behind. Stuck in your own world you don’t hear Caleb getting onto the deck and pick a spot far away from you staring into nothingness. Deciding it’s time to try and get some sleep you get up but seeing the wizard sitting at bow of the ship looking at the partially scorched masts and deck fiddling with something between his fingers you decide against it after all. You walk over and sit down next to him. He doesn’t respond beyond the brief pause of his motions let you know he knows you are there.

“If you want me to leave you alone I can go.” You look at him expecting some sort of a response, words or not but you got none. Waiting a little bit longer you eventually get up. Half up a hand wrapped around your arm so you sit back down in a comfortable silence. You know, to an extend what he had been through and what happened in Darktow triggered some bad memories. Caleb would talk if he felt like talking so you’d wait patiently and you stay with him night and day if it means he’d utter even a single word. He’s suffering and sometimes someone just being there can make even the tiniest difference. At least, for you it had in the past. Hours pass and you gather from the sky you are but hours away from dawn though only Caleb can confirm your estimate more precisely. Your mind starts wandering again looking at the sky, the endless seas ahead but you are pull out of your thoughts by the wizard speaking. 

“How?” Caleb breaks the silence. The word came out raspy and ridden with guilt and pain, eyes still trained on the scorched ship. “How can you still look me in the eye let alone sit next to me knowing what I did to you?” A pitied frown creeps onto your face as you tried to formulate an answer. You feel bad for him but that doesn’t change the way he’s feeling. 

“Because it was never your intend. Because sometimes accidents happen. Caleb, you might be one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met but you can’t know everything. You can’t control everything no matter how hard you try. You didn’t know I was there and to be honest, if you hadn’t cast that spell I’m sure I’d be dead right now with my head on a spike or weighed down by some rocks at the bottom of the sea.” You turned to face him. “I’m alive aren’t I? I’m still here and I’m still kicking. That’s what counts.” You softly put you hand on the side of his face and turned it away from looking at the fading burn marks now no more than a bad sunburn thanks to the clerics. 

“I don’t want to lose anyone else. I don’t know why even the thought of losing you hurts so much. I can’t afford to lose someone else.” He’s conflicted. Caleb never truly cared about who lived or died. Sure he’s grown attached to the Mighty Nein but wouldn’t hesitate to run should it come to it. At least, that’s how it had been. He’s changing, experiencing things he hadn’t felt in a long while. A sense of belonging, friends maybe even family. He’s not alone anymore and while that comes with many perks, it also came with risks and downsides to the way of life he has grown so accustomed to.

“It hurts because you are a good man, Caleb. It shows you have a heart and care for those other than yourself.” You reach for his bandaged hand but don’t touch until he places his hand in yours. You give his hand a squeeze and guiding him slightly to the side so you can see his expression.

“I’m anything but a good man. The things I’ve done, I’ll never be a good man.” He looks down at your hands and you bit your lip. Despite his hunger for learning and broadening his mind he is stubborn and changing his mind is as difficult as getting Nott to give up alcohol.

“I’m only going to tell you this once so listen carefully.” You encompass the hand you’re holding and move to unwrap the bandage. To your surprise he doesn’t stop you and turns his arm to make it easier for you to do so. “You feel that pain? That guilt and regret and heartbreak tearing at your soul? Don’t wallow in it for it will not serve you well. You carry your mistakes and regrets with you and they will weigh you down like bricks. You use your bricks to build but your actions will determine whenever you are building a palace or a prison. Only you can make that decision but know you have the potential to create a better tomorrow for everyone.” You remove the bandages from his left arm and moved on to the right. Caleb keeps his focus on your hands as you work. While your hands may be weathered and show the years of labor and harsh circumstances  your touch is soft, careful and deliberate like a porcelain painter, delicate and precise with fragile material. 

“These scars? They are part of you but they are not all you are. You are so much more than your past, Caleb.” You trace the scars on his arms. His eyes focus on your every movement.

“You want revenge on those who wronged you and hurt you like they did and continue to do so many others and I swear, if that is what you desire, what you need I will help you do so but do not let it be your undoing. You use your guilt and anger and mistakes and you use them to drive you but do not forget your compassion, kindness and desire to right your wrongs and remember why you are on this path. You are not alone anymore. Empires rise and fall by the actions of one. Imagine what a bunch of assholes trying leave a place better than they found it can do to the world.” He finally looks you in the eye and you can see the turmoil trying to calculate and process what’s going through his mind. The Caleb always quick witted and charismatic seems to have problems finding words.

“Thank you… For everything.” He trails off. You start picking up the bandages to wrap his arms again. “No leave them… For now at least.” He traces over one of the more prominent scars. 

“Only told you what you undoubtedly already knew but are just to stubborn to accept, you idiot.” He musters a smile at your comment and breathes in deeply.

“A bunch of assholes changing the world? I like the sound of that.” 

[last-operator-standing]

Toll of the Bell

Chapter 1 - Ashes to Ashes

> Ao3 

> Chapter 2 (tumblr)

Summary: What now? He could roll over and accept the fate thrust upon him and die as Adler intended. Starting a new life away from it all couldn't be that bad either. Or…

Or he could finish the mission.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Violence, blood & injuries, anxiety 

Words: 2k

A/N: This follows the post-ending for my Bell. For the sake of the story, Bell saved Lazar and was forced to leave Park behind, but she still lived. Her explanation will appear in ch 2 ;u; Originally I wasn’t gonna share this but uhhhh here we are! I wasn’t overly happy with the ending of this chapter, but c’est la vie, friends. ;u; 

"I'm sorry it turned out this way." 

 Why?  When he tries to speak there's only a pathetic gurgle as the blood spills past his lips. 

 "I hope you understand."

I don't! Why? I told you the truth! His chest feels tight, like it's being crushed under an invisible force. Was it always this hard to breathe? To think? He can't be sure anymore. So why?! Why..? His fingers are stained in crimson when he lifts his hand from his chest. Why did you shoot me? The words won’t come out. Trembling, his arm falls back to his side, unable to hold it up any longer.

 "It was never personal, Bell." 

 There's a pressure in Bell's right hand as Adler presses something into his palm. His fingers twitch against cool metal - his gun? - but he doesn't have the strength to lift it. He can only stare up at the soft blue sky as his chest burns and he dyes the ground red.

 "It wasn't meant to be like this."

 I trusted you. Then again, he also trusted Arash Kadivar. Look where that got me. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…

There's a darkness encroaching on the edges of his vision. Panic builds and it only makes the desperate burning in his lungs worse. He struggles to force air past the fluid. A terrible bubbling resonates in his chest and Bell idly wonders if he'll drown in his own blood before he bleeds out. I bet this makes you happy. Adler's face slides into view when he kneels beside Bell: His features are blurry and the colors somehow don't feel right. But he's not smiling. He almost looks.. sad.

 A hand slides against Bell's cheek, pressing gently, tilting his head a bit to the right and allowing him a clearer view of his would-be murderer. It's easier now to see  how Adler's face is pinched downwards in a grimace. Adler stares down at his dying protégé just as much as he stares back, once vibrant emerald eyes now dull and swimming with uncertainty and betrayal as he teeters on the edge of oblivion. 

 Bell wishes he had something else to dwell on in his final moments. Something that was his and not the manufactured memories pounded into his head by Adler and his trigger phrase. He tries to think back to before the CIA, before MK-Ultra, before Perseus. All he comes up with is Adler's smug smile as he wakes him in Vietnam. Fake. How Sims and he recovered the Russian comms log during Operation Fracture Jaw. Fake. Fending off the VC attack after his bird is knocked from the sky. All of it, fake.  

 The anguish of knowing there's nothing left of him- the real him- brings a burning to his eyes. Who am I? Bell doesn't realize he's crying until a gloved thumb brushes a tear from his cheek. 

 "Hey." 

 Bell's cold. The jacket does nothing to keep him warm. His limbs feel impossibly heavy. Any trail of thought he has slips between his fingers before he has time to complete it. No matter how much he blinks the world stays blurry and he's losing the energy to keep his eyes open. He tries to focus on Adler's face but he's nothing more than a tan smudge against a blue sky. 

 Bell's so, so tired...

 "You did good, kid."

 Deep down Bell knew it was always going to end like this. He was never truly part of the team. That was apparent in the way Sims refused to acknowledge him (didn't their time together in Vietnam mean anything?) or in the pitying look Mason would cast his way when he thought Bell wasn't looking (like he somehow understood..)

 Above all he knew from the way Hudson spoke about him.

  Bell? Don't get me started...

  Are you taking him into the KGB with you? Are you crazy ?

  If we can't control the asset, we end the asset.

 Bell's eyes flutter close and they don't open again. The warmth at his side, Adler's warmth, is only there a moment longer before it pulls away and is gone, leaving Bell alone with only the abyss. 

 Dying isn't what Bell ever imagined it to be. He feels light, like he's floating amongst the clouds. The coldness has long since seeped away to a numbness and he forgot about the hard concrete below him. Bell can't hear anything, can't feel anything. The abyss swallows him whole. He bathes in its darkness and floats in its silence, drifting through oblivion.

 Bell doesn't expect to ever open his eyes again. Without medical intervention, there was no logical way he would survive the bullet in his chest. This makes it all the more jarring when he's dragged into consciousness. He simply lays there at first, the numbness creeping back in and replacing the blissful void of nothingness he felt while unconscious.

 It's dark when he finally musters the energy to squint open his eyes. Gone is the calm cliffside in which Adler shot him at. Instead, he's in an unfamiliar room with faded green walls and blankets around him that are far too stiff and cause his aching body to itch . There's railings on either side of him, the kind you'd find on a hospital bed or to prevent children from rolling off the side at night. Voices resonate just behind a closed door. They're hushed and aggressive but Bell can't make out what they're saying. When they fall silent the light beneath the door flicks off and he's left with only a digital clock for illumination.

 Bell drifts in and out of awareness. He can't keep track of the passing time. On one occasion there's movement at his bedside and voices filling his ears.

 "..ell? B…?" 

"Is.. wake..?"

"Damn.. all, he… again.."

"Bell?"

 When he looks up, their face is too blurry to make out. Someone joins them at his side, but they are too fuzzy to see as well. Their voices sound like they're speaking underwater; too far and too jumbled to make out. Moments later he's unconscious once more.

 It's night again once Bell is able to stay awake properly. He feels heavy but warm and the room spins when he tries to look around. It's not until he tries to raise a hand to calm the spinning that he realizes something is wrong. He only manages to lift his arm a few inches before something stops him. Confused, he tries tugging a few times. A metallic jingle fills his ears. Looking over confirms his suspicions: He's handcuffed to the railing. Swallowing down the building panic, Bell tries the other arm only to find it just as restrained to the opposite railing. 

 He tries to keep calm. He really does. But it's all too much for him; he should be dead, he knows that. Not chained up inside an unfamiliar room with no idea how or when he got here, or who brought him here in the first place. A memory forces itself to the front of his mind.

  Bell woke up to voices. "I gotta admit," the first voice, American, rumbled, drawing his attention. It took some effort but Bell managed to lull his head towards the speaker. Two individuals peered down at him. "I didn't expect him to recover so quickly." His limbs were restrained, preventing any movement. "He's a resilient one," the second person agreed. Bell did his best to hold back his fear and anxiety. This certainly wasn't Perseus nor the KGB, which only meant he was now in the hands of the enemy. He wouldn't let them break him. 

  Not again. Bell fights against his restraints as hysteria begins to take hold. I can't do this again. Losing his mind once was too much; no way he could withstand being reset a second time. A rapid beep-beep-beep fills his ears but the Russian is too fixated on freeing himself to pay it much attention. A light flips on beneath the door, encouraging him to struggle all the more. 

 "Bell!" The door flings open. There's hands on his shoulders. "Bell, you're safe!" He thrashes. The light flicks on. "What's going on?" The hands leave Bell's shoulders and move to the sides of his head, forcing him to turn wide-eyed toward a familiar face. "Bell, hey, calm down," Lazar sooths.

 Bell falls still from exhaustion. His chest heaves with each rapid breath. Eyes wide, he stares between Lazar at his side and Park, who stands tense at the door. 

 "Bell-"

"Lazar, what's going on-"

"Park, not now-"

"I knew we couldn't trust him."

"Park, please! You're not helping." The MI6 agent scoffs but relents, leaving Lazar alone with Bell. 

 Bell trembles with a fear like he's never felt before. "Bell," Lazar tries again with a weak smile. "It's alright. You're safe. We're at an MI6 safehouse. I'm, uh… sorry. About the cuffs. It's the only way Park would agree.."

 "How..?" Bell only manages a croak, throat tight. 

 "Call it a hunch," Lazar offered. "I knew something was off with Adler. Followed you guys. Got there after everything already went down. We tried to patch you up the best we could with the equipment we have here. You've been out for a few days." Bell calms himself and listens intently. The exhaustion is clear on the Russian's face. 

 "I just.. I feel like I owe you, Bell. You saved my life back in Cuba." Lazar sighs softly. "Park is.. weary. She thinks you'll turn on us now that you've, well," he motions awkward towards Bell. "Now that you've begun to break your programming." 

 Lazar's face turns serious when he stares into Bell's eyes. "I didn't think it was fair to cut you out of the picture before you had the choice to decide who you really are." 

  The choice to decide who I really am...

 The distress must be noticeable on Bell's face because Lazar suddenly lightens up with a smile and gentle squeeze to his shoulder. "Hey, it's alright. It'll take time, but I'm sure you'll figure it out. You chose to tell the truth, you can't be all that bad, eh?" 

 Bell's head is a hurricane of emotion despite Lazar's teasing reassurance. Aside from his meeting with Perseus, the implanted memories, and everything that's happened to him in the past couple months, Bell knew nothing about himself. Am I righteous? Am I a terrorist? Just? Prejudice ? If he's honest with himself.. he was terrified of the truth. It was so much easier to be told who he was, to do what he was told, to put his trust in the team and his life in Adler's hands.

  Adler.

 "Get some rest." Lazar's voice shakes Bell from his thoughts. "We can talk more tomorrow, sort everything out. Don't worry about Park- she's suspicious but she wouldn't hurt you." Somehow, Bell isn't entirely convinced. He doesn't comment on it. 

 ".. Spasiba, Lazar. For saving me." 

 Lazar pauses at the door and turns. His surprise turns into another small, genuine smile. "No problem, Bell."

 Alone once again in the dark, Bell takes a shaky breath. He doesn't realize he's clenching his hands until he feels the ache. It takes some time but he relaxes the best he can and takes stock of his condition. Head throbbing, chest burning, mind buzzing with uncertainty and raw with emotion, but undeniable alive . 

  "It's always been for the greater good."

 There's a feeling he can't quite shake. It brings apprehension. Bell's not sure what will happen next. Will his would-be rescuers turn him in? Will Adler come back to finish the job? Will I ever get my memory back? Many questions burn in the Russian's head and not many answers come to mind. What now? He could roll over and accept the fate thrust upon him and die as Adler intended. Starting a new life away from it all couldn't be that bad either. Or…

  Or he could finish the mission. 

 Whoever he was before Bell may never know. It doesn't matter; that person is dead. The CIA reinvented him and gave life to 'Bell'. Now he has to live with that. Whether or not they like it they gave him a job. Find Perseus and stop him. 

 He found Perseus once.

 He'd find him again.

[enternalempires]

Downfall of a Liar

This is a Lukanette fic. Some fluff, some angst, a lot of salt and Luka being a King of Revenge. You all get to see the more conniving part of our snake boi. Hope you enjoy! Haven’t figured out how to use links yet but my Ao3 username is the same. Basically,  Lila Rossi has gone too far and Luka Couffaine is going to do something about it. He is, after all, a Couffaine… a little chaos never frightened him.

Marinette came to him on a Friday afternoon with sad eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Her knees were bleeding and her wrists were bruised, hair messy and lip busted. Her dress was ruined with an ugly paint smear and her stockings underneath were ripped.

“I fell down the stairs,” She told him, looking away. “I didn’t mean to. I must’ve fallen into some paint.”

Luka didn’t believe this.

The wobble in her voice and the unsteady way she had stumbled right into his chest when she saw him was not the actions of a girl used to her own clumsy feet. Marinette was a strong girl and he knew how much of a burden was placed onto her shoulders. She did not crack easily and she did not do it over being a klutz or smudged paint. She did not cry over repairable things, over broken nails or washable clothes. She did not come to him looking upset and watery-eyed without feeling one step from breaking.

These were things he knew.

So, after calming her down and getting her to take a shower, offering her clean clothes and a warm bed, and letting the girl he fell in love with fall asleep on his chest to the sound of his heartbeat, he did some digging.

He went to his sister first and found out the real story.

Marinette was in the art workshop, Mrs. Bustier having set up a lesson in there during the last hour of the day, with the other members of the band as she helped Nathan and Marc on their story.

She was honestly just being nice— as Jules explained— then the bitch, his sister’s respective name for Lila, sauntered into the room and started to wail about how Mari was only helping the two co-creators because she wanted the credit for their work.

The girl he fell in love with defended herself, and her friends did the same but with most of the Akuma class— excluding the band members and Nathaniel— having fallen for her tails of woe and amazing, yet false, life experiences, they sided with the liar instead of Mari.

Then, throughout the rest of the class, the bitch found ways to terrorize Marinette (going as far and tripping her and cutting her dress with scissors, dropping her paint onto her, pushing her into things, or slamming different objects onto her wrists) and then blame her for getting in the way.

Juleka and Rose had helped Marinette calm down a little as the girl broke into tears as soon as they were away from the rest of the Akuma class but she just kept panicking— and ran away. They didn’t know where she ended up until he texted them and asked.

Then Luka asked for Alya Cesiare’s phone number and made an unsettling discovery.

Marinette and the blogger were no longer best friends.

And, horrifyingly, she had been accused of being a bully, a liar, and a manipulator. Lila painted his melody in the way that everyone should view her instead.

Finally he created a group chat with a few allies he could trust.

He contacted Adrien Agreste (because even if the boy had been painfully oblivious that Marinette had once been in love with him, he would do anything for his lady), Kagami Tsurigi and her girlfriend and spoiled brat, Chloe Bourgeois, the boyfriends Marc and Nate, and then the rest of his band.

He named it ‘The Marinette Protection Squad’ and, just like that, the war was on its way.

*-*-*

Lila Rossi was waiting in the back of the school by herself when Luka arrived. He found her hidden between one of the walls and a thick oak tree and he didn’t bother to hide himself as he crossed the grounds over to her.

She saw him, surprise lighting her features for a second before it shifted into a— what he would guess, if it wasn't on someone so repulsive— a seductive smile.

“Luka!” She squealed, sauntering up to him and stopping a few feet away. “How are you, sweetheart? It’s been forever since we saw each other, since your last year in Lycee, right?”

“I don’t care,” Luka took a step back, face emotionless as he looked down at her. His eyes gave away nothing as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’ve made a lot of people angry, Lila.”

“A-Angry?” She stammered, feigning innocence by putting her hands over her heart with too wide of eyes to be real. “Why would they be angry with me?”

“Because you’re a liar and you hurt the people they care about— you hurt the person I care about.”

“Oh,” Lila straightened her back. “You must be talking about my bully.”

“Your bully?” Luka scoffed, less than amused. “Sure, I’ll play along for a minute. Who is your bully.”

“She’s... s-she is Marinette,” The liar sniffles. “And she says such horrible things about me and they’re not true! She pushes me and, and she rips up my homework and she insults me. Whatever you heard isn’t true, I swear!”

“Are you done?” He sighed out, shrugging his shoulders to make them relax more. “You’re a lying bitch, I get it. I’m not here to let you try to sink your claws under my skin, not that it would work, I’m here to warn you.”

“Warn me about what?” Lila asks, voice going a bit nastier than she probably intended.

What a two-faced bitch.

“That you should watch your back,” He says simply, turning slightly to walk back to his house. “You pushed a lot of people into your enemy list by threatening Marinette and now you’re about to face the consequences. It’s only fair to give you a head’s up.”

“Marinette,” she shrieks, “is nothing but a liar and a horrible person—”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, no matter what anyone says, is the kindest person you will ever meet,” Luka snarled, whirling on the sausage-haired girl so fast that she stumbled back, unprepared. “And I’m hers. You hurt the wrong person, you egocentric bitch, and you’re going to pay for it.”

Lila gaped for a second before she forced an innocent look on her face, mouth opening to say something but the musician just continued, eyes hard and narrowed and angry, mouth drawn into a tight line.

He was a generally calm person, he could handle a lot before ever blowing a fuse. Because he was also a Couffaine at heart. He thrived in chaos where others wither and when it came to those he loved, nothing would stop him from protecting them.

Especially when the one he loved and had to defend was the girl he fell in love with.

“She is thoughtful and compassionate and selfless and astounding in how she will push herself to the knife’s edge just to make sure her loved ones are okay. She is a cinnamon roll but the fiercest ally you could ever have. There is no stopping her, there is no convincing her to step down when she’s standing up for something that’s right— when she’s standing up for someone, unless that someone is herself.”

He took a step closer and, well, that must’ve been pretty intimidating because she scrambled to take one back, causing a humorless chuckle to leave his lips.

He was his mother’s son but he had enough of his father in him to leave others terrified.

“And you want to convince me that just because you have the Akuma class, Mlle. Bustier, and M. Damocles so far up your ass that people will hate her? Really? Let me tell you something, sweetheart," He gave a cruel smirk, voice mocking as he repeated what she called him earlier. “This isn’t you and all your puppets against Marinette, it’s now you against the entire school. You might pretend to rule this place but she is the one who everyone looks up to and loves. She’s their sunshine child and leader and she has connections everywhere. She knows people that could make your life a living hell and it is her kindness alone that has spared you in the past. And you should have cut your losses when you had the chance because I, however, am not as kind. You declared war, Mlle. Rossi, do not be surprised when your downfall comes knocking on your door.”

With that and smirking at the ugly glare on her face, Luka saunters away, whistling a happy tune despite how tightly his fists are clenched inside his pockets.

It’s a week later when they make the first move.

Ivan and Rose, because despite her size she puts up one hell of a fight, are Marinette’s bodyguards during school. They prevent her from getting hurt while Mylene, Marc, and Nate make sure to record anything and everything Lila does that’s incriminating towards her reputation. 

Juleka is on sabotage duty during school to make sure any plans backfire onto the bitch while Adrien is the distraction. Both were excellent at their job. Almost scarily good.

Outside of school Kagami and Luka strategize and come up with plans to make sure anything Lila says can be used against her. They organize groups and make sure that Marinette and her family doesn’t get bothered by Lila or any of her followers.

One by one more people in the school help. Marinette’s friends from different classes going from the highest grade level to the first year students at Lycee all jump in when needed— when they overhear a lie and debunk it by pulling up proof or contacting the people involved directly (Marinette isn’t the only one with contacts).

One by one Lila is getting more isolated, one by one she’s losing her power.

And it’s so satisfying to see that Luka goes to sleep laughing.

It’s not even a full month before the Akuma class had fully left Lila’s side, the last to turn was Alya— the reporter so distraught over how she realized she had been treating her former best friend that she had a mental breakdown.

It was a month on the dot when Honeybee and Ryuko got video footage of Lila snatching one of Hawkmoth’s butterflies from the air with a wide grin and a “What can I do for you today, boss?” and it was a week later when her life got ruined.

(Marinette was so overjoyed that the constant terror— in her civilian— life was going away that she kissed Luka until their lungs ached and, just like that, Luka got revenge and a girlfriend in one sweep.

And that girlfriend was very, very grateful for it too. Most nights he went to bed with bruise-kissed lips and a beautiful girl in his arms. Marinette looked happier than she did in years and all the planning and frustration melted away when he saw her wake up with a smile.

He couldn’t protect her when she was fighting an Akuma but he’s proved more than enough times that he could protect her when she goes back to having two left feet.)

First she got expelled from her Lycee for false accusations, thief, bullying, and cheating. 

Then her lies— ever last one of them— were exposed and her mother was informed about what her daughter was up to and even waved her daughter’s diplomatic immunity— being absolutely disgusted with her daughter’s behavior— when the court cases of people suing her for fraudulence, harassment, threats, attempted murder, and acts of terroism.

Last, but not least, Lila was banned from Paris and all the cases stacked up against her were moved to a different court within France so they wouldn’t even have to see her again.

Though they did see her screaming and shrieking and snarling towards Luka as he joyfully waved at her when the bitch was getting dragged to the back of a cop car, “You! You did this! You made this all happen! I’m going to get you back for this, Couffaine, I swear I’m going to get you!”

She seemed absolutely insane, drool going down her chin from how hard she had been yelling, eyes frantic and face flushed and she jerked like a wild animal trying to get out of her cuffs and the officer’s hands that held her back from attacking the young musician.

He was a Couffaine and this chaos made him delighted to witness.

After all, it’s not everyday you get to see the downfall of the bitch who made the love of your life miserable.

Luka just laughed and sent her a cocky wave, “I look forward to it, sweetheart.”

Well… you can’t say she wasn’t warned.

[honeyoongiah]

Roommates

Pairings: Christian x reader 

Genre: fluff 

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: mentions of blood, fear of being followed 

Summary: You have a big crush on your roommate, but you admired him from the distance since he had a girlfriend. 

You didn't plan to fall in love with him, actually it wasn't even planned to share a room with him, but your university didn't have the capacity to offer a single room to both and the way home to your parents was just too long for you. 

Soon after you two moved into the room, you realized that your new roommate Christian and you were on the same wavelength. He was a peaceful person, kind and lovable, courteous and very funny. 

Christian quickly wrapped you around his finger, quite unconsciously a smile appeared onto your lips when he tried to control his long curls in the morning or when he told you about his horrible shift in the coffee shop next door. 

You got lost in his big brown eyes, which radiated so much warmth when he looked at you. 

There was nothing that you hated more than being jealous. And yet you caught yourself eye rolling regularly when he wanted to spend time alone with his girlfriend. Especially when he asked you to stay in the library a few hours longer than planned or to have a drink with friends outside. 

You weren't stupid. You knew what it meant when he asked you for this favor with his wide grin. It wasn't something you wanted to think of. 

It was Saturday evening and you were trying to mentally prepare yourself for Christian asking if you were up to something tonight and if you could spend the night somewhere else. 

But he was surprisingly silent. Now that you thought about it, he was quite silent all day. After his shift in the cafe, he lay down for a few hours and since then he'd been sitting on his bed with headphones and scribbling around in his notebook. 

"Christian? Are you okay?", you asked carefully, but the music in his ears was too loud. Doubting if that was a good idea, you got up and tapped his shoulder. Confused, Christian looked up and took off his headphones. "Yes?" 

Somehow he seemed different to you today. "I asked if everything was alright with you. You seem off today." - "I'm fine, don't worry.", he replied, pulling up his headphones without waiting for an answer. 

You took this as a sign that he didn't really want to talk and sat back on your bed. Even if something bothered him, it was none of your business, was it? If he needed someone to talk to, he'd have his girlfriend. 

Even if you saw herself as a friend of Christian's, you didn't know if it was the same for him. After all, you had no choice but to spend time together.

You decided to give him some time for himself and left the room to go for a walk. The university had a beautiful park right beside it and you liked to go and get some fresh air. 

You put your headphones in and listened to your soft playlist that had only calm and relaxing songs in it. The perfect mood to take a walk while the sun went down. 

The air got fresher and the night began to rise, but you didn't want to go back. It was dark and you were alone in that park, but going back to your room and accidentally seeing your crush touching his girlfriend would be too much for you.

You cursed yourself for falling for him and yet you knew there was no way you couldn't. Even though his tattoos and his broad muscular body didn't show it, he was actually a very good guy with good intentions. 

Watching how good he treated his girlfriend day by day hurt, but only showed that he was a gentleman who puts effort into the things he cares for. You tried not to wish for them to break up, he deserved to be happy. 

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't realize that it got late and you walked to the area in the park where the lights didn't work properly. Everything seemed more creepy when the lights were flickering and you turned your music down to make sure you heard your surroundings. 

Rubbing your arms for at least a bit of warmth, you walked back towards the university when you suddenly heard footsteps behind you. You flinched, but didn't dare to turn around or to stop walking.

Going even faster now, you took your phone out, ready to call anyone in case something happens to you. Scenarios of getting kidnapped or even worse ran through your head while your heart beat so loud that you didn't hear the music through your headphones anymore. 

The noises behind you got louder, the footsteps faster and you were ready to run, ready to fight for your life when someone grabbed your shoulder to turn your body around. 

You punched the man in his face with as much power as you could, realizing way too late that the man bleeding from his nose and groaning in pain was just your roommate. "Fuck you're not as weak as I thought.", Christian mumbled and tried to stop the bleeding with his hoodie. 

You widened your eyes, immediately regretting the bravery to punch him. "Oh my God I am so sorry I thought you're gonna kidnap or kill me.", you said, your voice still shaky from the fear and your eyes watering.

Christian's gaze softened when he stroked your hair behind your ear. „There’s nothing to be scared of, okay? I’m right here.“

You nodded. "Come, let's go back to our room." 

While you walked side by side, Christian still hissing in pain every now and then, you thought what a wonderful person he must be for not being mad at you, even for a minute, even though you might have broken his nose. 

Instead of that he said "I'm sorry that I scared you. It got late and I wondered where you are so I went out to search for you. A friend of yours told me she saw you going for a walk here so I came to check on you."

"Your soul is so pure, do you ever do something bad in your life?", you said without thinking, immediately regretting it and starting to blush. Christian chuckled. "Ah I am trying my hardest to be a good person but I'm not pure. Thank you for thinking of me like that though." 

When you arrived at your room, you changed clothes and Christian went to the bathroom, washing away the blood and changing clothes as well. "I am so incredibly sorry, I'll get a cooling pack for you.", you said when you saw his slightly blue shining nose. 

After hurrying to the freezer and back to not make him wait any longer, you sat down on his bed and put it on his nose gently. Christian smiled softly. "Thank you."

"Thank you for looking after me, I didn't intend to stay out for so long but I didn't want to disturb you and your girlfriend.", you explained. Christian frowned when the word girlfriend came from your lips. 

"Hm? What's wrong? Why didn't you hang out today, did you have a fight?" - "We broke up.", Christian answered while looking down to the floor. "Oh.", was the only thing that you could say. 

"Yeah. But it's better like that." 

"Why?" 

"Because she was right about what she said when she broke up with me." 

Your eyes widened. Why would someone break up with Christian? He was the perfect boyfriend, what could've possibly gotten wrong? "I don't understand."

"She said I'm not really focused on her but on someone else in my life and apparently I talk about that person a lot.", he laughed softly. "There's someone I just click with naturally and she's very jealous of that. I didn't want to realize until she said it but she is right. I can't blame her and I really think it's better this way, I just needed this day to think about everything." 

You nodded, even though you still didn't really understand what he meant. Your mind was still a little blurry because of everything that has happened and the shock still sat in your bones.

"Hey you're still shaking. Can I do something to calm you a bit?", he asked with a concerned face, stroking your arm gently. "It's probably weird if I ask you.", you answered, but Christian shook his head. "Just tell me."

"Can you hold me?" 

A soft smile curved over his lips when he nodded. "Come lay down." 

He made space for you next to him, opening his broad arms for you to crawl into them and to feel tiny and secure. 

You sighed deeply, ready to fall asleep any second. Every night for the past months you dreamed of this, dreamed of dozing off while he held you, smelling his scent and being close to him. "Are you okay?" 

You nodded against his chest. „You just feel really good. Soft and warm…“

Christian hummed, starting to stroke your hair and back while you fell asleep slowly. When he noticed your regular breathing, Christian kissed your forehead softly. "Rest well, this was a very long day. Tomorrow I'll confess to you, so I hope this won't be the last time I can hold you like that."