#unfortunately neither of them had the balls to do anything like this - nor the mental stability for that matter

[amazingdeadfish]

Day Two: 'Co-Workers'

[mairyuu]

HC: At some point during his lowest moment of his life, 16 year old Subaru met Kamui, who was still 6 years old at the time. Kamui did a small act of kindness for Subaru, be it a mere pat on the head or shoulder, an encouragement and/or a reassurance, an offer for an ear to listen, a shoulder to lean/cry on, etc. It was nothing for the future potential savior/destroyer of the Earth, but for the onmyōji, it was a gesture he shall never forget...

YES! And if you don't mind me...

Post TB, angst, mostly Subaru-centric. I'll tag this as subkam but there's obviously nothing romantic going on between them in this one shot as Subaru is 16 and Kamui 6.

It's been a month since her death.

Nothing was getting better. Subaru wished he could say it wasn't getting worse either and stand behind his words; but he couldn't. Life after her just was. Neither vibrant nor tearful. Neither fiery nor blue. Just empty, lonliness so consuming that it numbed him to the point where he couldn't even feel a thing. No outlet, no emotions, no tears - just gaping void where heart used to be, just painful reminder that he's alive when he ought not to be; when his twin sister wasn't. Just regret on top of regret.

And a wish. No - a goal, reason for being. He'll find that man, even if he wastes all his life trying. Subaru had no qualms about that after all, with her death all his dreams died too. It almost felt wrong, wicked even, to try to actually live without her there. No, he could never permit himself that luxury. Mere thought of that evoke something akin to guilt yet emotion was felt from inside of glass ball; distant and distorted, far cry of intensity emotions should be felt with.

In that manner, Subaru wished he could break down sometimes; wished he could snap and destroy something; wished he could seize a goal that's not within reach. He gripped swing's rope to the point where palm ached as in amendment. Would it be too much for me to wish for an outlet? Do I even have the right to ease my own distress?

But it wasn't to say he felt nothing, far from it. If anything, today's case served as a reminder that he's still not able to separate pain of others from very own. Yes at surface level perhaps, but at very core? Not at all. Bitter pill to swallow, but denying it would only bode for more mental torment of uneasy heart and restless mind; always wandering where it ought to not go, thoughts never kept at bay.

Ghost of middle age woman was wandering through busy streets of Ginza and causing mayhem. Should have been an easy job: talk to her, resolve what was tying her to living realm after death and let her move on. Nonetheless case went astray. As it turned out, she was shot by her ex son-in-law while shielding her daughter; only wish of hers was to protect her, no matter the cost. I don't have regrets about that, if I return to past a thousand times I'll trade my life for hers every time. Only wish left to make sure her daughter was doing alright. Subaru assumed it'll be an easy feat; guide her to her daughter, let woman see she's fine and then she'll move on.

Except she wasn't fine. Ghost of her mother became upset and caused serious spiritual upheaval as result; all involuntarily of course, but there was no other - Subaru had to banish her from physical realm.

But he couldn't banish the memory haunting within mind's cage. Neither of that encounter, neither of what happened two months ago. He opted for lesser of two evils, decided to ruminate about that family's tragedy instead of his own for once. Such senseless preventable tragedy; perhaps exactly that is additional layer of tragedy to them. She died protecting her loved one; died as sacrifice noone asked of her to make. Much like his si - no, don't go there. Subaru exhaled raggedly as to ground himself in a moment; yet to no avail for racing thoughts are never kept at bay, especially not when something reminded him of her. Or even worse, that man.

Unfortunately it often did; Subaru couldn't pinpoint if he was merely projecting or city of Tokyo was so rotten to the core that tragedies were as common as sunrises. Chest tightened but no blues emerged; he was numb at very core. Angry and devastated yes, but dissociated nonetheless. His hands itched for something to grab on and concentrate on. He wished for an outlet, to finally break down and let emotions pour out of him until there was nothing left but a trully empty shell. Be it tears or uncomfortable fury, Subaru couldn't care less for both filled him from within but he couldn't actually feel them. Guilt and remorse were mostly reserved for her. Scorching anger only for that one person.

Why are you crying? Tragedies like this happen every day in Tokyo. Shut up. Like you ever cared about anything but yourself.

Breaking a glass cup, breaking your arm like this, what's the difference? Shut up.

You're an object of no importance. Damn you for poking into wounds of my already nonexistent self-esteem.

You're so kind. And you used that.

Subaru-kun, I lo- no you don't, you lying bastard. I hate you so so mu-

"Excuse me, you're hurting yourself"

Soft voice snapped Subaru out of his irritation and musings; he looked to the right and saw a kid - little boy in shorts and oversized jacket, no older than six or seven. Cute kid, that much was discernable by one glance, nonetheless something about his eyes rooted Subaru on the spot. No, not just unusual blend of bluish and purplish shades but intensity of that gaze - gave impression of piercing through one's facade into very soul.

"Please don't hurt yourself", child repeated and paced closer to him. Whatever do you mean, Subaru wanted to ask but only then did he realize - he's been punching swing's metal construction the entire time; fist wasn't bleeding but it indeed appeared sore red, even in night's darkness. How did he dissociate so much not to realize what he's been doing, Subaru had no clue. Nevertheless, if he possessed any more sense of self-worth he might have found will in himself to be alarmed by this discovery; but he simply didn't care what became of him. As long as he's strong enough to fulfill wish for revenge.

Kid paced further towards him; came to halt only when he was within arm reach. Innate kindness held its roots, Subaru felt he needed to offer something back.

"...you shouldn't be taking to strangers", he uttered at last. Perhaps noone had told this boy not to do that?

Boy seemed puzzled for a heartbeat, almost conflicted. "Oh... but I trust you!", kid answered cheerfully, eyes shining with inquisitiveness and joy. Perhaps this is how my own glinted a lifetime ago. Not to rain on anyone's parade but some cautionary tales had to be told.

"You shouldn't do that either". Like I shouldn't have. At Subaru's words boy appeared almost hurt, like he wasn't expecting such dismissive answer; rather distancing one indeed but meaning did hold as true, especially in cities ruthless and uncaring like Tokyo. Thin was the line between sheep and wolf in its clothing.

Boy's eyes glinted like he was about to cry. Before he was even aware of his own actions, Subaru reached forwards and cupped his cheek; maybe instinct to comfort those in need still held root deeply within his very soul; or maybe there was something special about the boy for Subaru couldn't shake off the feeling of uniqueness and silent power radiating from small being in front of him.

Boy seemed surprised at gesture but not startled; also no tears emerged on eyes' corners but he did strike as saddened and puzzled. It couldn't be helped, no child could or should ever understand remore and guilt he's undergoing thought; especially not on personal level.

"But there's something in your eyes. I can tell you're a kind person"

Same instant Subaru's pupils dilated and breath hitched up in throat. No, he wasn't expecting to hear that from anyone, let alone a child; they weren't prone to lying like adults were. Subaru felt his lips fall into flat line; eyes became downcast and doleful expression overtook his features; no point to even try pretending, something about this child told him he'd be seen right through.

Boy appeared hesitant, almost apprehensive for a moment. Briefly Subaru contemplated what brought such change. One unsure look to side, then boy clearned his throat and finally asked - "What hurt you so much?"

My own naivety.

"Some things in past", Subaru replied ambiguously and immediately continued as to prevent child from probing any further into his unhealed wounds- "I appreciate the concern but I really don't care if I hurt myself"

Alright, maybe he shouldn't have confessed the last part but he couldn't find it in himself to hold that self-deprecating statement back. Before he could ruminate on whys and therefores, Subaru felt his hand being squeezed into tender hold. Boy cupped his larger hand with both tiny palms of his; despite coldness of night, his hands felt warm.

"But... what about those that love you?"

"...there's no such person. Not anymore at least", Subaru offered back distantly, almost like on autopilot. No... he couldn't think about that at the moment, not when mere thought of her hurt like arrow through the heart. Everything ached, body and soul. Subaru looked to side, expecting boy to drop the subject as it was way beyond mental capabilities of little kid.

He didn't.

"If you're hurting, they'll be hurting too!", kid yelled a bit too loudly. Subaru flinched, but it wasn't because of volume or kid's high pitched tone - but because of epiphany befalling onto him. If his sist - if Hokuto could see him wallowing in regret and self-blame to the point of neglecting own identity and self, how guilty would she feel? What would she say? Would she break down and weep for both their fates? She was gone of course - dead. But Subaru couldn't help but wonder how she'd react; in that very second it felt like she was still alive, still with him and giving him something to look forward to when waking up next day. Nee-chan, I'm so sorry, would you ever forgive me for not forgiving myself?

"I know how it feels when - ah there's my mom", kid began then halted in speech once be spotted older female dozen of meters away. He broke both tender caress and hand hold, then began jogging in direction of park's exit. "I'm sorry for bothering you but even if I don't know you I felt bad for seeing someone as kind as you suffer"

No, I'm not kind. I don't deserve your sympathy and support, Subaru wanted to protest to those encouraging words but all that left his lips was - "Wait!"

He bolted up from swing, reached forwards with one arm but didn't try to chase after the boy; why so, Subaru had no clue. Perhaps something from within just resonated to him, akin to inner calling but Subaru couldn't put mark on exact source of that sixth sense feeling.

Boy gazed back at him for a second and waved - "I hope we'll meet again. Goodbye for now!"

Then dissapeared from eyesight.

Subaru stared into vacancy for a minute or two. Then mental exhaustion kicked in; he collapsed back on swing.

He failed her.

He failed himself too, but that one was long established that night in hospital when his childhood innocence ended. But at the mere thought of falling his sister who traded life for his so he could live, and here he was surviving day after day, it was... Subaru felt something wet falling onto his palms. Reaching up with fingertip he traced it up his cheek and -

He was crying.

When realization settled in, so did the uncontrollable tears. Letting out a wail, Subaru lowered head into both palms and wept. Sobbed like a soul that hasn't for years; it has been mere months but anguish and tragedy he has undergone through felt like burden worth decades and decades. Tear after tear slid down face, Subaru neither could nor wanted to stop this outlet of repressed emotions: remorse, guilt, self-blame, anger, sadness, desolation, lonliness, hatred and oh so more - world seen in monochrome ever since both he loved left him, but now Subaru experienced it in color of emotions once again; overwhelming and almost terrifying yes, but after weeks and weeks of living in void of utter lonliness, more than desirable change.

Subaru didn't know how much time had passed when he returned to himself. Thankfully it was still dark outside. Mind vacant for once, no reminders of past's tragedies nor fury at future revenge schemes. Just himself locked with an empty moment of catharsis. Yet still, Subaru couldn't help but recall that little boy that triggered it, along with his unique powers and piercing eyes.

I don't even know your name but somehow when you said we'll meet again I felt like those words were fated. Perhaps I only wish them to be but if we really do then I'll be able to finally thank you.

If they ever meet again, Subaru would make sure he hear those words.

[iam93percentstardust]

Hello. I am very interested with WinterIron. Enemies to Lovers, abo with omega Tony, accidental bonding, mutual pining, a lot and a loooootttttt of kissing and touching (with "I do it because of bond" excuses).

Please feel free to cross anything you feel uncomfortable with.

Hi there! I wasn't able to get everything in there, but hopefully there's enough? I loved this prompt so much, it was a fun verse to write in 💙

CW for omegas having few rights in this verse and for creepy Aldrich Killian

As always, everything I write can also be found on ao3

~

mate bond: [meyt bond] noun

1. A mental and physical connection that ties two people together following a mating bite

2. A pair bond between spouses

~

[An excerpt from The Other Half of My Soul: An Exploration into Unconventional Bonding Methods by Anderson-Lopez et al, 1972]

“While rare, it is important to note the existence of mate bonds in individuals who have not exchanged bites. These instances have notably occurred during times of high stress for one or both individuals, and are sparked by an inciting incident of some kind, usually a traumatic event. While these types of mate bonds, dubbed soulmate bonds by the media, frequently occur between individuals who are highly compatible, it is not necessary. Curiously, however, it does seem necessary that the individuals are scent matched for a soulmate bond, even though compatible second genders are not a requirement.”

~

Bucky maintained that it was an accident.

Tony had been meant for Steve, after all. That was the arrangement Howard Stark had decided on with Fury. Bucky had only come along as moral support for the first meeting between Steve and Tony. He wasn’t even supposed to meet Tony first, but the crowded ballroom had been too much for him, so he’d ducked out into the hallway, only to come across two alphas menacing an omega. He supposed that some of Steve’s fiery nature must have rubbed off on him, as he normally would have never taken on two alphas by himself, not when he was down an arm. But he’d taken one look at that omega, pretty brown eyes wide with distress, and leapt into action. It hadn’t been until both alphas had been sent off running with their tails between their legs that he’d realized the omega he’d rescued was Tony Stark, Steve’s arranged mate.

Unfortunately (fortunately? No, definitely unfortunately), the arranged match would never come to fruition as Bucky and Tony had looked at each other and immediately bonded without a shared word or bite between them.

Howard was furious, Fury less so—Bucky was still a SHIELD agent, even if he wasn’t the great Captain America, so the planned union between SHIELD and SI would still happen—but both Bucky and Tony insisted that it hadn’t been done on purpose. And, as neither had a mating bite but could still feel the other at the back of their mind, it was hard to disprove the existence of what had once been called a soulmate bond, though was now called the rather unglamorous name of Mate Bond Subtype C, which Bucky thought sounded like an illness.

The media thought it was the most romantic thing they’d ever heard. Steve, who was slowly courting another alpha from SHIELD, thought it was a relief. Bucky, who didn’t want an omega while he was still recovering from the surgery on his arm, thought it was a nightmare at first.

He didn’t know what Tony thought.

They might have shared a bond between them, but Tony had quickly figured out how to shield his feelings. It had taken Bucky a little bit more practice but he too had worked out how to keep his thoughts and feelings private, which was good, because he doubted Tony would like to know what he was thinking.

They’d been bonded for three months and, while Bucky had moved into Tony’s penthouse apartment, they didn’t share a room, let alone a bed. He still took long missions that took him away for weeks at a time. Tony spent more time at SI’s research labs than he did at home. Bucky hadn’t shared Tony’s heat, nor had Tony shared Bucky’s rut, though neither of them had invited anyone else into their beds. And other than their planned public outings where they had to touch to put on the façade of a happily bonded couple, they didn’t hold hands or kiss or lean into each other, giggling.

The problem was—Bucky wanted all of that. He wanted to sleep curled around Tony. He wanted the two of them to be home long enough to share more than one dinner together at a time. He desperately wanted to share cycles, but even more badly than that, he wanted to touch Tony as often as the omega could stand it. Because the problem was also this—sometime in the course of three months, he’d fallen in love.

~

Tony slid his hand into Bucky’s as they stood in the elevator. “It’s just a quick walk around the ballroom, say hi to a couple investors, and then we can leave,” he said reassuringly, giving Bucky a quick smile. “I know how much you hate these shindigs.”

This was true, Bucky did hate them, but he knew that Tony hated them just as much, though he hid it much better than Bucky did. “Don’t worry,” he replied, squeezing Tony’s hand quickly. “I’ll stick to you like glue.”

“Well, maybe not like glue. Like Velcro, maybe. Howard’s got a couple investors that I know he wants me to meet and that I know you’ll hate so you’re more than welcome to go off and find people more to your liking then. I heard Steve’s coming.”

Bucky had to fight to hide a frown. He knew Tony didn’t mean any harm by the comment, but he hated how Tony thought he wouldn’t want to be by his side even when meeting people he didn’t like. So what if he didn’t like them? He’d still prefer to be giving Tony silent support instead of wandering off and leaving him alone for that long.

Before he can respond, the elevator came to a smooth stop, the doors opening on a soft ding to reveal the glittering ballroom Maria Stark had chosen to host the Annual Stark Foundation’s Shareholders’ Ball, meant to honor those who had given so generously to charity over the last year. The room was decorated in delicate ice-like structures, calling to mind the snow blanketing the city outside, though it wasn’t nearly as cold inside. Golden chandeliers reflected off the dark windows, giving the impression of a never-ending stretch of light. It was all so very glitzy and glamorous. Bucky hated it. It was an obscene display of wealth, meant solely to remind everyone that the Starks were richer than anyone else in the room.

“One hour, Bucky Bear,” Tony murmured like he could hear Bucky’s thoughts. “And then we can go get burgers.”

He dropped Bucky’s hand in favor of sliding his own into the crook of Bucky’s elbow, gently steering him towards the first group of investors. Like every other rich person he’d met since bonding with Tony, they were simultaneously smug of their own “generosity” (mere pennies compared to their bank accounts) and jealous, both of Tony’s wealth and Bucky’s luck in landing a Stark (not his words). The smugness was blatant, the jealousy only slightly hidden in the way their eyes lingered as Bucky took the opportunity to brush his lips across Tony’s cheek, quietly telling him he was going to go get them drinks.

“I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me,” he promised, understanding the minute tightness at the corners of Tony’s eyes.

Tony smiled and nodded, attention already turning back to the investors—or, more likely, to his latest project, however much it might have looked like he was paying attention to Hugh Worthington IV. Bucky slipped through the crowd to the bar. Fortunately, it wasn’t crowded yet and he was able to order a whiskey for himself and a scotch for Tony, who always refused to drink the fruity drinks he actually preferred at these parties, almost immediately. As he waited, he turned back to the crowd, idly scanning it. Steve wasn’t there yet, if it was indeed true that Fury had managed to stuff him into a suit and send him off to schmooze. His eyes sought out Tony, who was laughing as he excused himself from the group Bucky had left him with, moving on to another small throng of people.

He smiled despite himself. Tony was lovely like this, despite his discomfort. Bucky got to see him laugh so rarely at home that he cherished every moment he got to see it while they were out in public.

“Sir, your drinks,” the bartender prompted. He thanked them absently and left a tip on the bar before making his way back across the ballroom to Tony’s side.

Tony wasn’t laughing now. In fact, if his pursed lips were anything to go off of, he was pretty furious, and Bucky wondered what had upset him between him leaving the bar and him returning to Tony’s side.

“Doll,” he said, letting Tony know he was there. Tony turned and took his drink, thanking him with a quick kiss that Bucky desperately wanted to turn into a longer, sweeter one.

“Honey, Senator Stern here was just telling me about an omega’s rights bill he filibustered so it wouldn’t pass,” Tony said, irritation bleeding into his tone.

“Now isn’t that interesting,” Bucky drawled, irritated himself. The bill in question was a law that he knew Tony had backed, as it would have put a stop to the arranged bondings the wealthy were so fond of. They’d both known it would be a longshot to pass, but they’d remained hopeful. “That’s the one that Stevie supported isn’t it?”

“It is,” Tony agreed. “My alpha here—” He patted Bucky’s chest. “—is close friends with Captain Rogers. They grew up together, you know. Steve spends nearly every Saturday evening with us. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to hear about this bill failing to pass. Isn’t he supposed to be putting in an appearance at the Senate hearing next week? It would be such a shame if he couldn’t make it.”

Tony’s statement was only partially true. Bucky mostly saw Steve at SHIELD, as Steve, despite being always welcome at their apartment, didn’t want to be reminded of how close he’d come to an arranged bonding of his own. But Steve, who had been an omega before receiving the serum, had always been an outspoken supporter of omega’s rights, and now that he was an alpha, and Captain America to boot, he used every bit of that privilege to push as much pro-omega legislature through Congress as he could. He was a thorn in conservative senators’ sides, like Stern, and it was a minor miracle that they’d gotten him to appear in front of Congress to talk positively about a Republican bill supporting an expansion of benefits for veterans, when he normally disagreed with anything Republican just on principle. Steve’s support would go a long way toward getting that bill passed.

Tony’s veiled threat was effective. Stern, one of the authors of the bill, blanched, making Bucky smile. He loved watching Tony do his thing. There was really nothing better than Tony putting bullies like Stern back in their place.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Stern stammered out before hurrying away.

As soon as he was gone, Tony drooped, leaning back against Bucky. It was nice, being able to lend his support to his omega, but Tony was standing up straight again after only a moment, the façade falling back over him.

“I really hate that guy,” Tony said softly. He looked up at Bucky. “Sorry about using your friendship with Steve like that. I was just so angry. Saw red for a second there.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bucky said. Impulsively, he reached out to clasp Tony’s shoulder, running his thumb soothingly over the soft skin just above his shirt collar. “You guys got a bad lot in life. You do what you gotta do to make it right.”

Tony hummed. “I really wanted that bill to pass. It wasn’t right, what Howard and Fury wanted me to do. I don’t want anyone else to have to go through that.”

“Sorry,” Bucky offered up. It was a lame apology, but he didn’t know what else he could say to make it better. He knew very well that if he and Tony hadn’t bonded that night, Steve would be Tony’s alpha.

To his surprise, Tony smiled and nudged his shoulder, teasing, “I don’t know, you’re not so bad.”

Bucky sputtered, nearly choking on his whiskey.

“Oh, look, Steve’s just arrived,” Tony said airily, like he hadn’t noticed the effect his words were having on Bucky. “Let’s go say hi.”

Talking to Steve at these events was always awkward. Tony and Steve were both aware that neither of them wanted anything to do with each other as mates, which made having to see each other a study in unspoken tension. He didn’t think it was that either of them had a problem with the other, and he suspected that they could even manage to be friends eventually, but it was that knowledge that they’d nearly been forced to mate that made things so tense between them. Still, he appreciated that Tony was willing to put up with it so that Bucky could see his best friend. It was the sort of small kindness that Tony unthinkingly did that had made Bucky fall in love with him so easily.

Tonight was no different. Tony and Steve exchanged no more than a few awkward words before Tony excused himself to go meet with Emma Frost. He didn’t bother kissing Bucky this time, as Steve was one of the few people they didn’t have to pretend with and it didn’t seem like anyone was watching them at the moment. It would have been different if they’d met up a few months ago. There’d been more than a few people who’d somehow got it into their heads that Steve and Tony’s proposed bond was a love match instead of arranged, and they’d all watched eagerly to see how Steve, Tony, and Bucky interacted in those days following Bucky and Tony’s bonding, clearly wondering if Steve was going to pick a fight. They’d been sorely disappointed, of course; Steve and Bucky didn’t fight over anything, let alone an omega that Steve hadn’t wanted.

“So Fury roped you into the dog and pony show, huh,” Bucky asked, eyeing the stiff collar of Steve’s shirt. He’d be willing to bet that it was brand new. Steve was much more at home in a pair of khakis and a flannel shirt than he was in a tuxedo.

“Senator Brandt actually,” Steve said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “He thinks it’s good for me to make appearances and drum up support for SHIELD.”

“Sucks.” There was a niggling worry growing at the back of his mind, unrelated to Steve’s complaints about the brass, but Bucky didn’t know what it was. He glanced around the room, but was unable to spot anything amiss. He tried to put it out of his mind by asking, “How’s working with the Commandos?” He couldn’t entirely keep the bitterness out of his voice. Bucky had been moved out of the Commandos unit a few weeks before meeting Tony, and it wasn’t that he didn’t like being on Strike Team Delta, but he was still irritated that he hadn’t had a choice in the matter.

“Not the same without you,” Steve said, grimacing at him like he knew what was going through Bucky’s mind.

They continued talking about SHIELD as they slowly circulated the room and all the while, that worry was growing stronger, slowly morphing into fear, but it wasn’t until he happened to catch a glimpse of Tony standing in the corner and looking tense and unhappy that he realized they weren’t his feelings. They were Tony’s. Tony was worried and scared and had brought down his shields so that Bucky could feel his emotions and Bucky was standing on the other side of the room like an idiot.

“Excuse me,” he said brusquely, cutting Steve off. “Tony’s in trouble.”

He headed straight for Tony, pushing through the crowd without sparing a thought to anyone he might be offending as he shoved them aside. For once, it was Steve who was trailing after him, offering apologies to everyone who looked offended.

There was a look of naked relief in Tony’s eyes as Bucky marched up behind the alpha Tony was talking to. It was a look he’d never seen on Tony’s face before, at least not directed at him, and he wasn’t sure if he liked that his omega was happy to have him there or disliked that Tony had to be relieved at all.

“Something wrong, doll?” he asked, hand clamping down on the alpha’s shoulder.

“Bucky,” Tony breathed. He sagged back against the wall. “This is Aldrich Killian. He’d like to propose—” Tony’s mouth twisted unhappily. “He’d like to propose an omega trade. I told him I wasn’t interested, but he insisted on talking to you.”

Anger flared in Bucky’s chest, hot and furious. Omega trades weren’t common anymore, used mostly in backroom deals to secure a transaction. You treat my omega right and I’ll treat your omega right, and maybe we can have a deal. He knew the rich, traditional alphas Tony had grown up with still occasionally used them, but he hated them. He’d always hated them. The very concept treated omegas like property, like hostages, and the thought of seeing Tony—his Tony—under someone else had his vision shading red.

“Is that so?” he hissed.

Killian, the idiot, didn’t seem to notice Bucky’s growing anger. “Maya’s a great—” he began to say.

Bucky cut him off with a hand around his throat, slamming him into the wall.

“Bucky—” Steve started, a warning in his voice.

“Tell them it’s SHIELD business,” he snapped. “Isn’t that the usual excuse?”

What Steve did to placate the crowd growing around them, he didn’t know; he was too intent on Killian to care. “Let me get this straight,” he growled. “You asked Tony for a trade and when he told you no, because I know him, he wouldn’t ever want that and he wouldn’t be quiet about it, you cornered him and insisted you’d only listen to a no from me.” It wasn’t a question. Tony’s thoughts and emotions were flooding him with what Killian had tried to do to him. He growled again at the image of Killian’s hand on Tony’s arm, removed after only a moment. This—this—alpha had tried to put his hands on Tony, had ignored his clear no, and was still babbling on about whatever business deal he wanted out of Bucky—or, more likely, Tony, though as an omega, Tony wouldn’t be able to make that decision.

“It’s a yes or no question, Killian,” he finally snapped, losing his temper. “Did you or did you not ignore Tony’s answer—"

“He’s an omega,” Killian tried.

“He’s a person. He’s a person who was clearly uncomfortable with you and you should never have ignored that. The only reason you’re still standing and not laid out on the floor is because he cares about making a scene, but guess what, I don’t.” His hand tightened on Killian’s throat, making the man wheeze. “Do—”

“Bucky,” Tony said quietly, cutting through his anger.

Without removing his hand from Killian, he looked at Tony. Tony still looked a little shaken, but there was something else in his eyes, something that Bucky didn’t know how to describe.

“Let him go,” Tony continued. “You made your point.”

“He—”

“Yeah, he did,” Tony said, knowing what he was going to say. Bucky wondered if his own shields were down, letting Tony read his thoughts and feelings. “And you were here to stop it, so it’s okay. Let him go, we can go get burgers.”

He didn’t want to. He wanted to make sure Killian never laid hands on someone unwilling ever again, but then Steve was there, carefully pulling Bucky away as he muttered to him about seeing what Fury could do about Killian. And that wasn’t exactly what Bucky wanted, but it was better than nothing, and taking care of Tony was his priority anyway. So since Tony wanted burgers, he would go get burgers.

He spun on his heels, intent on heading to the elevators, only to freezes as soon as he saw Tony. They were supposed to be faking it, which meant that he should do something—wrap an arm around Tony’s waist or kiss his forehead or—or something. But Tony had just had to deal with an unwelcome touch. He shouldn’t have to deal with another one so soon afterwards.

Tony surprised him though by stepping forward and sliding his hand into Bucky’s, interlacing their fingers. “Come on, alpha. Let’s go home,” he said, leading Bucky through the crowd watching them. Bucky ignored them in favor of drinking in the sight of Tony whole and healthy, if not happy.

They were quiet in the elevator ride back down to the parking garage, quiet as they climbed into the back of the car, quiet as Happy pulled out onto the road. Then Tony slid across the backseat to tuck up against Bucky’s side. He rested his head on Bucky’s shoulder, and, after a moment, Bucky rested his cheek against Tony’s curls.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” Tony said. Bucky could feel the truth in his words through their bond, and he realized that Tony hadn’t put his mental shields back up. “I wouldn’t have asked for your help if I hadn’t been expecting something like that.”

“Shouldn’t have taken it so far though. I know you’re not—we’re not—” He grimaced as he fumbled over the words. He’d been able to admit for three months that he and Tony weren’t in a relationship, why was it so hard now?

Tony hesitated before carefully saying, “We could be.”

“We—what?”

“Bucky Bear,” Tony said warmly, sitting up so he could look him in the eyes. “You have to know—people don’t just do what you did tonight or the night we met, for that matter. Not for me. I—I don’t know, the way we bonded, it threw me off. I wasn’t expecting it and I reacted badly. But—then the way you reacted to Killian got me thinking—maybe we could try?”

“Try?” Bucky whispered.

“Try us?” Tony asked, leaning back in slowly, giving Bucky enough time to move away if he wanted to.

He didn’t want to. “Yeah,” he breathed. “We could try. I—I’d like that.”

Tony smiled at him, bright and lovely, and closed the distance between them.

[robininthelabyrinth]

noncon-anon🔪🔪🔪...2!: Regardless of how much jealousy he holds toward his half brother, Meng Yao never expected or wanted to have Jin Zixuan on his knees before him. Certainly not like this, at least (his half-brother wrapped in chains, in the middle of the Sun Palace’s main hall, with Wen Ruohan and who knows how many other people watching) but he hadn’t been expecting Jin Zixuan to get captured either, and if this is what he has to do to remain in the Chief Cultivator’s favor, then so be it; may the gods forgive him for this violation of his kin (...and maybe if he puts on a good enough show, Wen Ruohan will let him keep his half-brother alive).

ao3

warning for adult content (full warnings on ao3)

Meng Yao had spent years not thinking of Jin Zixuan as anything other than an obstacle in the way of his ultimate goal – his father’s recognition, himself as the heir and eventual master of Lanling Jin – and he bitterly resented Wen Ruohan for trashing all that effort.

It was impossible to keep the image of Jin Zixuan that he’d had in his mind before: the spoiled, arrogant princeling in the same make as Wen Chao, less a human being than a statute of gilded gold, all fancy clothing and flawless appearance.

There was nothing of that now.

There was nothing arrogant about the frightened young man on his knees in front of him, chains carved with suppression arrays wrapped around his body – they’d been designed for a much stronger cultivator than he, Wen Ruohan’s mind lingering too often on his chief-most enemy in the war, Nie Mingjue, and Jin Zixuan was as helpless beneath them as a lamb, shivering in blind terror at being taken away from all he knew dear. His retainers had all been taken off to the Fire Palace or killed where they knelt, their corpses dragged off leaving smears of blood on the ground, and only he remained.

Meng Yao’s envy.

His brother.

His mother had always wanted to give him a brother, he abruptly recalled, and hated Wen Ruohan all the more for making him remember it. Her womb had closed after him, such that she couldn’t try for another even if she’d wanted to, but she’d day-dreamed about him making friends with the legitimate sons her sect leader – that was how she always called him, her sect leader – would undoubtedly have, pointlessly giving him advice on how to make friends with them, impress them, make them like him.

Not – this.

Never anything like this.

“Look at the gift I got for you, Meng Yao,” Wen Ruohan said, smiling. “A twin from another womb, born on the same day as you, but unlike you planted in the legitimate belly and so hoarded like a treasure – I would wager that you wish you could peeling his skin off and wrap yourself in it, wear it back to Lanling Jin.”

Meng Yao smiled. “Sect Leader Wen does me too much honor. This lowly one does not deserve such a gift.”

We may be born on the same day, but I’m three years older than him, and my mother isn’t a disgusting vicious old hag like Madame Jin. How dare you compared them.

“And yet I have chosen to give it,” Wen Ruohan said, brooking no disagreement as always. “You do such fine work in my Fire Palace, Meng Yao, with strangers who have never looked at you twice – I cannot wait to see what marvels you will accomplish with a target that you actually abhor. Which of your fine instruments will we try on him first? Should we break his spirit by removing his sword hand, or cut off Jin Guangshan’s hopes along with his balls?”

He laughed, endlessly amused by himself.

Meng Yao smiled along – mother wanted me to be his friend – and mentally ran through his options as fast as he could. He couldn’t risk angering Wen Ruohan, not when the other man held the entirety of the Nightless City in the palm of his hand, not when the only thing keeping Meng Yao himself out of the Fire Palace and strung up on his own instruments of torture was the quality of his service.

“I will of course not disappoint the Sect Leader,” he says smoothly, and pretended to ignore the way Jin Zixuan flinched, with his face so similar to his own, to the face his mother had loved so foolishly. “Only…”

“Only?”

Meng Yao ducked his head bashfully. “Sect Leader is too generous to me, it makes me go beyond myself; I start to think of things I should not. When I was young…ah, but it does not matter.”

“Don’t equivocate,” Wen Ruohan ordered, but his attention was caught, as Meng Yao had intended. “What were you going to say?”

“It’s only that when I was young, my mother would tell me stores of Lanling Jin,” Meng Yao said, and hated, hated, hated Wen Ruohan for making him have to share such things. “Her hope was that my father would accept me as his recognized son, but failing that, she had always assumed he would take me at least as – as a servant for the one he already had.”

He didn’t need more than that: Wen Ruohan got it right away. “And so once you were rejected you dreamed of the opposite, is that it?”

“It would satisfy this lowly one’s most fervent dream, Sect Leader.”

Wen Ruohan smiled, but it was not a pleasant smile – it was full of hidden dangers. “Ah, Meng Yao, you dare to dream so high! There’s only one problem with your suggestion that I see. This well-born child, this treasure of Lanling, what possible servant could he make? His hands are so clean and soft, he would not be able to do manual labor nor even sweep your floor. What possible use could you make of him?”

The answer came to Meng Yao at once, and he hated himself this time even as he responded with a pleasant smile: “Well, Sect Leader, in the absence of any other use, I could always have him serve me in bed.”

Wen Ruohan burst out laughing, caught by surprise.

He loved the idea, of course, as Meng Yao knew he would. Wen Ruohan was a man with esoteric tastes; he enjoyed torturing and humiliating his enemies, and the prouder the man the more he longed to ruin them. Even within the time Meng Yao had worked in his Fire Palace, he had seen Wen Ruohan offer a brother his family’s freedom if only he would forcefully take his sister’s purity, which the unfortunate man had done, weeping piteously all the while.

Yes, Wen Ruohan loved the idea, and because of that, Meng Yao had a chance of saving Jin Zixuan’s miserable life that he’d only need to later end, if he was to truly achieve all of his desires.

He would, too. He wouldn’t hesitate to end Jin Zixuan’s life if it served his ends.

Just not - like this.

My mother wanted us to be friends.

“Very well,” Wen Ruohan said, waving his hand. “You may have him as your bedwarmer.” Meng Yao had not even begun to salute in thanks when he added, “But before you accept such a gift, you should try it out.”

Meng Yao was not so foolish as to let his smile freeze. “Here, Sect Leader?”

“Why not here? It may as well be witnessed.”

Like a marriage, he meant, and Meng Yao hated him.

“Of course, Sect Leader,” Meng Yao said, and this time he completed the salute, bowing deeply, and made his way over to his hapless younger brother who was shaking like a leaf, just as unable to flee.

Meng Yao knelt before him and began to open his clothing, taking a moment to lean forward and hiss in his ear, “Keep your mouth shut. Play along and you will live; resist and you will die.”

It was neither threat nor reassurance but merely fact, but Jin Zixuan clearly needed the words – needed to think that there was someone here on his side, however illusionary the sensation was.

Whatever he was thinking, it worked.

Jin Zixuan stopped trying to fight and submitted as best as he could, even if he couldn’t help but flinch any time a new piece of flesh was exposed.

He was quivering like a quail, and Meng Yao sighed and reached for his half-brother’s cock, making him squeak in an undignified fashion as he started stroking it.

“Is that entirely necessary?” Wen Ruohan asked, sounding bored.

“I intend to get plenty of use out of him, Sect Leader,” Meng Yao replied, his tone equally bored as if this were merely a chore even as Jin Zixuan’s cock unwillingly started swelling up beneath his palm. “If I tear him up the first time I bed him, I’d have to stitch him up and wait for him to heal before I can take him again, lest I want to risk his death. And there’s only one legitimate heir, isn’t there?”

Wen Ruohan chuckled. “I suppose so.”

“Besides,” Meng Yao continued, because he knew he had to keep Wen Ruohan’s interest. “There’s some fun in this as well: look how responsive he is, getting hard for me already. He’s tied up in chains and bared for half the world to see, and all he cares about is his dick.”

“Reasonable, for a son of a pleasure-lover like Jin Guangshan,” Wen Ruohan agreed, and he sounded much less bored now. “Your shared father.”

“Our shared father,” Meng Yao agreed, and reached down with his free hand to open his own robes, pulling out his own cock. “Would you like to see how similar we are?”

He lined himself up next to Jin Zixuan – they really were similar, in both look and size, and Wen Ruohan laughed as Meng Yao shifted over to pleasuring them both at the same time. Jin Zixuan had his lips pressed tightly together, but he couldn’t help the little whimpers and mewls that broke free now and again, nor the way his hips bucked up under Meng Yao’s skillful work. He wasn’t the first man Meng Yao had pleasured like this, and, if anything, he seemed almost unexpectedly inexperienced.

Meng Yao would have assumed that Jin Zixuan, as Jin Guangshan’s son, would have had his fill of brothels by this age, have fucked every hole in every way that whores offered for sale and then some, but perhaps his jealous bitch of a mother wouldn’t let him.

Certainly it didn’t take very long before he was coming helplessly in Meng Yao’s hands.

“Did you like that, brother?” Meng Yao asked him, and Jin Zixuan looked at him in betrayal. “You came so quickly – you liked having your brother’s hands on you, didn’t you? The same blood as yours. They say mine is less pure on account of your mother being born in a palace and mine in a brothel, but in the end it seems that you’re the one that turned out the whore.”

Jin Zixuan’s face was red and flushed, but he didn’t say a word, didn’t resist as Meng Yao pushed him down and spread his legs, merely grunted when Meng Yao slid fingers slicked up with his own come into him one a time.

“You’re tight here, which is to be expected,” Meng Yao continued, aware of their audience – the one on the throne being the only one that mattered, although there were plenty of guards watching avidly as well. “I doubt anyone’s ever made use of you before, unless our shared father has even more interesting tastes than I thought…”

Jin Zixuan flushed even redder and shook his head furiously.

“No? Then let your older brother be the first.” Jin Zixuan’s body was involuntarily relaxed after his orgasm, and Meng Yao was in a hurry, knowing that he couldn’t draw this out too long lest Wen Ruohan grow bored – he stretched him roughly, making as much space as best as he could, then put his cock at his entrance. Before he did anything more, he reached over and grabbed Jin Zixuan by the hair, forcing him to bend forward so that he could see Meng Yao’s cock about to breach him. “At the brothel, they say a woman always remembers her first man. They say it’s because her body shapes itself to him, molding the inside to accommodate him, never to be the way it was before – making her the perfect fit for his cock and no one else’s, no matter how many others she might one day take. I’ve heard the same is true for men. What do you think, little brother? Are you ready to take me into you? Are you ready to watch as I turn you into something fit only for me?”

Jin Zixuan couldn’t tear his tear-filled eyes away.

Meng Yao pushed in, and Jin Zixuan whined, high and loud, pathetic. It didn’t stop Meng Yao at all, pushing in inexorably – Jin Zixuan was hot and tight, about what he’d thought he’d be, same as anyone else. There wasn’t any magic to incest, no matter how much it got Wen Ruohan off.

(It got Meng Yao off, too. But he’d be a very poor whore’s son indeed if he didn’t know how to separate business and pleasure - and this was a performance. Would he say such ridiculous words, words that no one would believe if their dicks weren’t hard, otherwise?)

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said, because he knew Wen Ruohan liked to hear it, and maybe also because he liked the way it made Jin Zixuan have to turn his face away in shame. “You really were a virgin, weren’t you? Look at you, giving yourself to me like a bride on her wedding night, taking me all inside of you. What a good little bedwarmer you’re going to be.”

He settled in all the way, hips pressed against warm flesh, and enjoyed the sensation of Jin Zixuan futilely clenching around him in an attempt to get him out.

“I’ll teach you all the tricks to please me,” he said, starting to rock back and forth, moving in and out. “Every morning you’ll present yourself to me to use; every evening too, and if I get bored during the middle of the day I’ll use your mouth. Once I’ve gotten you properly broken in, I’ll rent you out to anyone who asks – I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Make you the good little whore and me the master, make you earn on your back that gold you’ve always worn as if you deserved it.”

He was thrusting in earnest now, Jin Zixuan’s legs around his waist, and to his amusement it looked like Jin Zixuan was getting hard again. It wasn’t really a surprise, a natural reaction to the strange and confusing sensations he was enduring, none of which said anything as to whether or not he was enjoying himself at all, but Meng Yao dropped his hand onto Jin Zixuan’s cock yet again.

“See, you’re halfway to a whore already,” he mocked. “Getting hard on big brother’s cock like a good boy. Good and obedient – you’re going to come with my cock inside of you, and belong to me forever.”

Jin Zixuan was whimpering, tears streaming down his face, but it still didn’t take long for him to come.

Meng Yao finished shortly after.

He allowed himself a few moments to enjoy the sensation, and then pulled out, pulling Jin Zixuan’s leg up so that Wen Ruohan could see the come dripping out of his abused hole.

“Well done,” Wen Ruohan said, clapping. His eyes were avid. “Well done indeed. As always, Meng Yao, your craftsmanship is exquisite. You may keep him – although perhaps another show might be in order, soon enough.”

“Of course, Sect Leader,” Meng Yao said, and snapped his fingers for a guard to take Jin Zixuan to his room. Sad and miserable and pathetic, but still alive – just as he’d promised.

Naturally, the situation of keeping Jin Zixuan as his personal pet wasn’t tenable in the long run, and so it was only a few days later when Meng Yao kneeled in front of Wen Ruohan and said, “Sect Leader, I have an idea for something we can do with Jin Zixuan.”

“I’m listening,” Wen Ruohan said lazily. “What do you have in mind?”

“I have left him alone and isolated in my bedchamber these past few days, growing increasingly nervous and paranoid,” Meng Yao said. “I propose to allow him to ‘escape’ with some information to deliver to Sect Leader Lan, who will believe his peer well above he might believe some anonymous sender of notes. And he, in turn, will pass the information along to Sect Leader Nie…”

Wen Ruohan’s eyes lit up in immediate interest, as Meng Yao had expected. He was always keen to hear any word about Nie Mingjue.

“I believe this mechanism will allow us to lure Sect Leader Nie into a trap,” Meng Yao said. “And then…”

He let his eyes drift over to the chains that had so recently housed Jin Zixuan.

“Do as you suggest,” Wen Ruohan ordered at once. What did one little Jin Zixuan matter to him, next to the possibility of gaining a Nie Mingjue?

Meng Yao saluted and left. It was settled, then – Jin Zixuan would be let go and make his way back to the Great Sect’s side of the war, they would both put this unfortunate incident out of their heads, and life would carry on as if nothing had happened.

(Years later, when Jiang Yanli coaxed Jin Guangyao into a bedroom where Jin Zixuan waited, shivering in a completely different way, it finally occurred to him that he hadn’t told Jin Zixuan that that was the plan, and also perhaps that the other man lacked his own talent for compartmentalization – but in the end it all turned out all right anyway, even if it did mean he’d need to revamp his plans for conquering the Jin sect to find a way to keep his new pet alive in the long run.

Damn Wen Ruohan. It was all his fault!)

[m-y-fandoms]

Vampire Nagito Komaeda x Ultimate Monster Hunter reader - Part 2 (Supernatural AU)

Part 1 

WARNINGS: Blood Drinking, Vampire Bites

Please excuse any grammar mistakes. I think I got most but I edited this at 5 A.M. ... I will go back over it and scan for errors soon.

- Admin Kokichi

     Hours passed since your unfortunate encounter, and your heart and mind had finally shaken off the creeps. After finishing your little self-guided tour of campus, you headed to the Main Course dorms to find your room. Your luggage was arranged to come later that evening, but you wanted to see the dorms for yourself now with little else to do. 

      Once you shut the door, the warmth of the sunlight gave way to a wave of the best air conditioning money could buy. The place looked very clean and tidy, with nothing out of place save for a few displaced balls and plastic cups atop a pool table and what appeared to be forgotten lecture notes on a shelf above a central fireplace. This must be the common area, a lounge for the most deserving students in the world!

     Behind the fireplace on either side were two sets of pretentious-looking stairs that led up to what you assumed were the actual dorm rooms. You searched your pocket for your student key card. You flipped it around over and over again in your hand, searching.

     “What?” You weren’t going crazy, were you? Neither floor nor room number were indicated on your card. You pulled your phone out, quickly sifting through emails and texts. Nope. Nowhere, at any point, had the housing department told you exactly what room was yours. Way to drop the ball, Kirigiri… you sighed, finding this situation both a bit humorous and exasperating considering the status of the school.

     Well, you were a last minute transfer. There were bound to be slip-ups.

     Sighing, you resigned to sit, relax for a few minutes, then call the housing department, or simply walk over to the main office building if it was still open.

      "Maybe I'll just..." you decided you'd earned the two minute break and walked leisurely over to one of the beige leather seats. Sitting, you set your chin into your hand propped up by your elbow on the arm of the chair, and began to think of how much you missed your tools. School regulations didn’t allow poisons, crossbows, guns and silver bullets inside the dorms... for obvious reasons. Even students of the blade or other offensive disciplines had to keep all sharp and lethal objects in their practice rooms and out of the dorms (not that all of them followed these rules). Students were allowed to customize and adjust their uniforms according to their talent, but you couldn’t even do that, what with all of the tools of your trade being lethal or unexplainable to the ignorant masses.

     It felt weird, not having a wooden stake strapped to your ankle, not having wolfsbane hidden away in a compartment on your belt. You felt out of place, without knives and rune-inlaid whips hidden on your person... uncomfortable. This school really wasn’t for you.

     "Ah, it’s you!" A voice came from behind.

     "Huh?" You gasped, flying up from your seat, thoroughly startled. Your knee banged off of the coffee table in front of it, leaving you feeling like an absolute buffoon. Your hand instantly flew to your leg, and you hissed softly in pain.

     “Whoops! Didn’t mean to startle you, sorry!”

     Your eyes followed the voice all the way up the stairs to its owner. Nagito was scrambling down the stairs toward you apologetically, feeling responsible for your blunder. He reached his hands out as of to offer you his aid, but froze upon seeing you take a step backward. He stopped directly in front of you, clearing his throat before continuing.

     “What are you doing here? You don’t have to start classes yet?” You stared into his eyes, and a tremble ran up your spine. The greenish-grey, glistening spheres appeared icy and far away. “Well?" When you didn't respond, he spoke up again.

     "I uh... um..."

     "You have a way with words, I see, just like when we met earlier today." He teased, laughing warmly. He had one of those genuine smiles, where the eyes exude friendliness just as much as the mouth, and their misty shine entranced you deeply. He laughed again, a bit awkwardly as you merely gawked at him. A light blush formed on his cheeks and he swept some of his cloud-like hair away from his forehead. He held the eye contact, though, searching your mind for something, anything to tell him more about you. You felt a stinging begin, like a migraine forming in the depths of your brain.

      You shook your head roughly, tearing your eyes away from his gaze. How could you have fallen for that one? 

     Vampires could very easily compel the mortal mind, put one in a mind-hazing trance with direct eye contact alone. Being the offspring of one of the best hunters ever born, you were trained to notice when the bloodsuckers made their attempts to ensnare your mind or read it like a book. That headache was your warning sign, the last defense of a disciplined mind, but it shouldn’t have even of gotten that far. 

     You were slipping… why did this vampire feel… different?

     More importantly, you forced your mind to change the subject, how long had he been trancing other students? Was he doing this on purpose? Some vampires simply forgot their own strengths at times. Did Kirigiri know? Is this dangerous creature simply going around unchecked... doing whatever the hell he likes?!

     He coughed, his eyebrows furrowing with a sudden seriousness. He’d been searching your mind, looking around desperately for a clue, a story, a hint, and just as soon as he thought he’d found an interesting page to start reading, the book was snapped close in front of him. He was pushed out in an effort that seemed practiced, skillful. You saw the discontent lining his features, and decided you needed you stop this. You two needed to be on the same page, before he tried anything else on you; something stupid, or more bold. You couldn’t keep up this charade any longer. You had a feeling he was feeling the same way.

     "Stop that.” You spoke sternly, concisely, confidently. He needed to know not to try that shit again, that you would not simply be prey like others, not mentally nor physically. His mouth formed a smirk, one of relief and something like acknowledging the other player in a game.

     “Ahh~ so I see that I was correct after all. Are we done playing pretend now? Awww, I was actually having a lot of fun! It was quite stimulating, actually.” He frowned, pouting like a child called home at dusk after playing outside all day.

     “I’m afraid so. Sorry to disappoint you,” you crossed your arms over your chest defiantly,” and I don’t appreciate my mind being picked and prodded at. That’s extremely disrespectful, you know? That’s none of your business. If you’re doing that to people on the regular around campus, I will inform the headmaster.” You held a finger out, poking his chest firmly and with aplomb, and he only smiled in response, finding this attempt to intimidate him rather adorable. He held in a giggle behind his hand, not wanting to anger you. “Am I amusing to you?” You threw him a cross look, and he held his hands up in surrender.

     “No, of course not! I was just thinking, well... how do you know? About me, I mean?”

     You face went blank. You weren’t expecting this question, though you probably should have been. There was no possible way to answer this honestly. What were you supposed to say? The headmaster forbade you from telling anyone of your true talent. Disregarding that point, what would this vampire do to you once he found out you were one of those sworn to kill his kind? You didn’t have any means of defending yourself at present. You couldn’t outrun him, or fight back with raw strength. He couldn’t do anything right? He wouldn’t… if he were that brash, there’s no way Kirigiri would’ve let him enroll here in the first place. He has to be on excellent behavior to attend Hope’s Peak, right?

     You blinked once, twice. He was waiting for a response, staring patiently. You needed a response, and quickly.

     “W-what are you doing here?” Nice. Perfect.

     “Huh?” His head tilted, taken aback by the curveball you threw his way.

     “W-well you asked what I’m doing here, and you’re right, if I were starting classes today, I would be in one right now. We have the same core classes outside of the individualized training of our talent specialization. I saw the class rosters and schedules! I know you should be in class right now as well!” You were getting louder with every word, feeling very cornered and vulnerable at the moment. If you had just even one weapon on you… just one…

     “Well, uh…” now you had him. You smirked, feeling pretty clever at the moment. “I forgot my books... just my luck haha,” he countered, “So I came back to my room to get them!”

     “Then where are they?” And sure enough, he had nothing on him but the clothes on his back.

     “Hmm… well I came through the second floor entrance,” he gestured over his back “...and I was about to head to my room but I got uhhh… distracted I guess you could say. I really am hopeless.” There was that big, dumb, goofy grin again. Your mind took a second, but then it clicked.

     “...You smelled me…” you spoke slowly, cautiously.

      “Uh… I guess yeah. You could say that. Well that’s exactly what happened, really. I suppose I am glad we ended our little farce! Would’ve been hard to explain that one...” his index finger reached up, scratching at the side of his mouth pensively.

     “You really are a creep!”

     “Yeah, I’m the worst, I know...” Why was he smiling while saying this? “I’m sorry, again. Usually, it’s not like this. Of course I admire our talented peers and am drawn to them as they are pinnacles of hope and the building blocks of the future, but...” he pantomimed through the air grandly, “ I am very conditioned to the human scent. It doesn’t usually alert me nowadays. I dunno… guess the... tantalizing smell of a particularly interesting human was enough to… stir me.” He smirked almost tauntingly. Your eyes widened, but narrowed again immediately. You would not show him weakness. 

     “Stop that.” You scowled.

     “Apologies, (Y/N). Just speaking my mind. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m just sort of a disgusting waste of space.” Your scowl melted into a sort of sympathetic frown despite yourself. Did he really mean that? Why would he say that about himself? Vampires were usually more vain on the spectrum of supernatural beings. “I just hold Main Course students in really high esteem, and you’re no exception... actually, far from it. Ever since I met you this morning, you’ve been on my mind more then most mortals… strange...” he seemed lost in his own little world. What? What the hell was going on in his crazy little head? The silence caught his attention, and he seemed to remember you were there as well, looking into your eyes again. He caught himself, making sure to not to make such direct eye contact with you. When he was in these weird moods, he never could quite control his more passive abilities and instincts. “Anyway... yeah, it’s unfortunate that I’m going to be missing part of class now… not that I don’t enjoy the pleasant surprise! I knew there was something special about you right off the bat!" Would he still think that after he knew your true calling? You looked to your right, thankful for the large staircase to escape to. He was giving you unsettling vibes once again. 

     Supernatural beings were known to imprint easily on mortals. Some saw them as beautiful, perplexing, ethereal in their impermanence. Some killed and ate them just because devouring humans, or torturing them until the panicked aura of their tiny, weak souls radiated around the room and feeling that temporary fragility, that adrenaline, was the only way they themselves could feel human. This urge to feel close to humanity was only doubled, dangerously so, in supernaturals who were once human themselves. It was an insatiable need to return to that normalcy, that frailty. 

     Swiftly, you scampered over to the bottom step to put some distance between you and the increasingly imposing immortal before you.

     "Ah, I see. Well, anyway, thanks I suppose. I uh..." you grinned clumsily. “I was just looking for my room, albeit unsuccessfully. You can go ahead and get your books now! I don’t want to hold you up any longer!”

      "I can help! It’s no big deal. The way they get students moved in here can sometimes be confusing. Actually, they put your room number on the student portal, not your card or paperwork, heh! And they don’t even tell you, leave you to find out yourself!” He pulled a large, black rectangle from his pocket, crossing the distance to wave it in front of you like a treat.

     What the...? You patted down your shirt and bottoms alike.

     “Is that my phone? How the hell-?!”

     “Ah, yeah, sorry about that! I swiped it from you when I first came downstairs! I thought it’d help me get to know you better, had you not been willing to divulge the knowledge you have of my kind’s existence.” Once again he was calm, cool and casual whilst in the midst of saying such unusual words. What was this guy’s deal? “Here, you can have it back!”

     “Yeah, I should hope so!” You reached out to snatch your phone from his hand, and it was like time froze.

     The moment your fingertips touched his own in the exchange, your indignant eyes met his, and saw something feral flicker in them. The phone switched hands, and a spark of sorts traveled through your skin and into his. As you pulled back, his hand shot out, taking a tight grip around your wrist.

     Your cheeks warmed up, at once flustered when the atmosphere changed drastically. Your eyes dilated in panic and his lips moved forward, resting upon your hand. He seemed to tense up, a rigidness taking up his entire body. His closed eyes opened wide to match your own and he inhaled deeply of the skin of your knuckles. You pulled away quickly, spooked.

     "S-something wrong? Why are you so weird? I’ve never met any of your kind quite like you." You rubbed your hand curiously.

     “So, you’ve met others?” It was clear he was trying to hold back something deep inside of him that begged to crawl out, his eye twitching slightly.

     “Answer my question.”

     "No, of course not... you just smell... nice, as I said before." He looked away from you, hand extending to guide you upstairs and in the right direction, but your brain was telling you not to go anywhere with him in tow.

     “I- I can find my way myself, but thanks!” You began logging into the Hope’s Peak student portal through your phone’s browser, and quickly looking through your profile to find your room code and number.

     “I insist!” He followed you up the stairs, trailing after your scent like a starved hound. Why couldn't he just get lost? Your thoughts raced anxiously. If you’d had your equipment on you, he would’ve been long dead. He was exhausting, and he didn't feel… safe. “Found it?” he inquired over your shoulder. As you reached the top of the steps, you began to feel your blood boil, but you knew not the true cause of this involuntary reaction.

     Your last little exchange left you feeling foolish and naive. How could you have let a vampire get that close? Why would you let him indulge in the scent of you knowing how easy it was for them to take advantage of humans? You were royally pissed off, and looking for a way to expel that rage, to hurt someone or something the way you were hurting inside.

     “I know you’re a vampire because I kill them. My whole family does. It’s essential to be able to identify one in my line of work. I’d be a pretty shitty hunter if I couldn’t do even that, and you aren’t exactly good at hiding it.” You found your door, swiping your keycard into the extremely sleek, high-tech lock system, and forcing it open a bit too harshly. The frustration you tried to hide in your voice was evident in your actions. Nagito halted, stilled stiff by your suddenly bitter words.

     “Ah,” he cleared his throat, also hiding emotions of his own, “The Ultimate Hunter... it makes sense now.” He recalled seeing your title along with your name on his own school portal. How did he miss that one?

     “Yeah, so maybe you should get lost.” Heartlessly, you began to close the door on him, now fully inside the spacey room that was bare save for a luxurious bed and some basic, modern furniture. “Hn?” A soft gasp left your throat when a polished shoe wedged itself inside the door, stopping you. You looked up, your body filling the crack in the door, and met Nagito’s eyes. There was that far away look again. His eyes were cloudy, tameless, wild.

     “Why must you be so harsh?” His eyes bore into your own now, all inflection and kindness gone from his tone. “I understand you must hate my kind, and now I can appreciate why you reacted so aversely to my voice, my touch, my presence before, but have I done anything to harm you?” You were beginning to get scared now, reaching instinctively for your belt and finding it absent from your pristine uniform.

     “I think you should leave. We obviously aren’t meant to be acquaintances.” You refused to let your voice shake. This might be a turning point, a critical moment. Vampires were never so dangerous as when they knew their prey was afraid.

     “It’s your turn to answer me, now~” Nagito forced himself in the doorway nonchalantly, approaching your slowly retreating form into the middle of your room. You backed away, with him meeting every step.

     “If you must know, you have offended me, yes. Trying to read my mind-”

     “An accident.”

     “Stealing my phone-”

     “A precaution.”

     “Smelling my blood like a pervert, twice!” He smirked.

     “A natural, harmless instinct.” 

     “Even so...” Your eyes were on his own, obviously not focused on his body, and he took this opportunity to reach down, grasping lightly at your hand once again.

     “Even so, what? Those are all petty misunderstandings. Ahhh~” his cold, pointed nose skimmed across the back of your hand once again as he brought it to his face. This time, when you tried to pull away, he held fast, and warning signals flashed in your mind. “Just as I thought! Your scent appeals to me so because you are a shining beacon of hope! I see it now! It’s all coming to me! You protect the world from those of my kind who would seek to destroy it! How wonderful!” His cheek bumped across your knuckles, and you failed once again to pull away.

     “N-Nagito. Stop. This is.... you must consider context. If we weren’t in school right now, if we were just on the street meeting like this-”

     “You wouldn’t do anything~ because I’m allied and protected~” He sung, his eyes twitching again, lids fluttering softly. Your heart dropped into your stomach. He was right. 

     You were trying to resist, but he was making it so damn hard. It shouldn’t be this hard. You found supernatural beings repulsive. Your father did as well. And his father did! They weren’t trustworthy. Their words were always the lies of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. They could charm and glamour weaker mortals with ease and enjoyed it! And you certainly were not a weaker mortal! You found joy in killing them... didn’t you?

     “What you’re doing now is-”

     “It’s strange, hah~ so strange~ I haven’t felt this inspired, this jittery about a mortal in such a long time... haha~ this excitement! I knew it! I knew you were special! You’re the true hope I’ve been looking for! The Ultimate of all Ultimates that will guide our classmates into their roles as the protectors and leaders that will inherit this earth!” He was manic now, inhaling deeply, raggedly onto your skin. One hand crushed your wrist into his own chest, the other held your hand so that it stayed splayed out flat for his access. There was something primal in his eyes. He was quickly becoming unstable. It was a perilous state so common to his kind, but yet it felt still so incredibly unique to Nagito himself, like it was not his immortality but his own character that caused this sudden shift in behavior.

     “Nagito! You sound like a lunatic! Let go, you’re hurting me!” Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You were strong, usually able to ignore some measure of physical pain, but the way his fingers dug into your wrist coupled with the consternation you felt at the situation set your nerves aflame. Once again you reached instinctively for a weapon or poison you did not have.

     “Am I? I’m sorry. It’s just... I wonder...” You didn’t like where this was going at all. His chest shook with arousal , a bit of drool dripping from the fangs now on display in his mouth, which hung open in his state of reverie. “I wonder what this this hope tastes like... this pure, concentrated source of unbridled hope!” His voice shook, and you pushed at his chest with your free hand. He didn’t budge an inch. It was like he didn’t even notice your actions. “I know I’m unworthy, that a piece of trash like me doesn’t deserve to taste you... but I feel like now that I’m this close, haha~ I can’t stop myself! Truly, truly it’s a grand misfortune that a talentless, meaningless, soulless abomination like myself even dares to take part in such a feast! But...” He lowered his lips to your wrist.

     “Nagito, stop! You can’t do this!” You began to kick and struggle, to scratch and tear at his clothes, to claw at any exposed skin, leaving marks across his cheek and arms. “If you do this, you’ll lose your protection!” His top lip pulled back, something like a snarl emanating from his throat. Clearly that approach wouldn’t work. “You’ll be expelled!” You tried the next deterrent on your mind. Wow, you must’ve been the worst Super High-School Level Monster Hunter in history. Day 1: fooled into a vampire’s clutches. His inhumanely sharp canines grazed the skin of your wrist, feeling your pulse race beneath the surface. He was entranced; there was no stopping this now. A human, without weapons, without enchantments or defenses, without repellants, bombs, herbs, poisons, silver, or means of healing, was no match for a supernatural being. “Please! Please, you- don’t do this!” a last effort. Why did you even try? These savages never sympathized with begging and pleading. They were killers. You were an imbecile to let your guard down around Komaeda for even a second.

     His fangs sunk deeply into your skin, piercing a vein. You yelped out in pain, pulling at his hair and tugging your wrist back, which only nestled his fangs in deeper. You whimpered, little rivulets of your vital fluid running out of his mouth and down to your elbow. He was moaning in delirium, enraptured in the sensation of your blood running down his throat. You wanted to yell, to scream for help, but something inside you was hesitant and holding you back. Something inside you didn’t want anyone to find out about this, to find you two like this.

     “Mmmh~” Nagito’s tongue swirled around the puncture wounds, his lips latched on like a leech. He drank freely, deeply, seemingly careless of how much blood he was taking. It’d been a long time since he’d felt the exhilaration of feeding from true prey. These days they had him on willing donors and blood bags. Nothing compared to the flavor of adrenaline and fear in the bloodstream, no matter how much he hated himself for indulging in it.

     “Naaagi-t-” You stumbled backwards a step, wishing so desperately that you weren’t such an obedient student, that you’d deemed it justified to slip a stake, a knife, anything under your shirt. Your punches, your willful attacks on his abdomen, and the kicks to his knees began to slow down. They were losing the fight behind them, and yet, you would not give up. “St-tt-oo-” He continued to slurp and suck at your wrist, taking no note of the way you slowly were slipping to your knees. 

     The corners of your vision began to cloud and darken. Your head was ringing, much like a time you’d been left concussed after one of your first hunts. This might as well have been one of your first encounters with the supernatural world, with how badly you’d blundered every step.

     Now on your knees, your head hanging limply down into your chest with your arm raised and pulled taut, trailing up to the vampire’s mouth, you felt yourself slipping. Finally, your vision began to fade for the last time, and you fell unconscious. The last thing your mind registered was the sound of Nagito sighing blissfully as he finally detached from your flesh, followed by the sound of frenzied laughter.

[angel-tries-to-write]

Not everyone gets a happy ending

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan Rating: Explicit Pairing: Oluo Bozado x Petra Ral, background Levi Ackerman x Hanji Zoë Word count: 4366 Genre: smut, angst

Oluo has been in love with Petra for years and he would do anything for her. Even have sex with full awareness, that she has feelings for their captain, not for him. But one day he has enough.

Warning: slight bdsm

Love is blind, they say. And if it's blind enough to make you ignore that the person you are deeply in love with has their eyes on someone else, then Oluo could agree with it wholeheartedly. His little crush on Petra developed through all these years, he used to hope his feelings would disappear one day, but they just became stronger with time. Nothing seemed to stop them, not even the painfully obvious fact that Petra had a massive crush on captain Levi. Oluo tried everything to make her notice him, even tried to imitate the captain, but it all was pointless. Petra was in love with Levi, who, on the other hand, was happily in love with Hanji. It took a lot from their friends to set them up together and honestly, Oluo couldn't care less. He was even happy for them, hoping that Petra would come to her senses and stop simping for an older and taken man. Unfortunately it didn't happen, apparently her feelings for Levi were as strong as Oluo's for her.

However a kind of improvement in their relationship happened, when during one of the missions, when there was just the two of them, they got soaked and had to warm up somehow. They agreed that it was going to be the first and the last time, but even then, when they were coming down from their orgasms, he knew it was nearly not enough. They never spoke about this, but some time later it happened again. Always the same pattern, he would say something suggestive, she would play along and they would end up having sex again and it was really good. One time he had enough and confessed his feelings for her. She didn't answer anything, but he said she didn't have to. He knew she didn't like him this way, he knew about her crush on Levi, but he needed her to know that his feelings weren't going to change and that he loved her. In the night he just spend time with Moblit and Mikasa, drinking and bitching about Levi. Although Erwin, Miche and Nanaba managed to cheer him up a little, there still was a heavy pain in his chest.

Some time had passed and Oluo grew tired of that uncertainty. He decided to try to follow Erwin's advice and turn Petra down the next time she comes to him asking for sex, he also stopped trying to be like Levi and get her attention. He decided to give up his hopes of having a happy ending with the woman he loved. Well, the problem was that she had other plans and one night she showed up at his door.

“What do you want?” he asked, fully aware of the reason of her visit.

“I think you know. What possibly can I do here at this hour?” Petra raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“A lot of things, actually.”

“Don't play dumb, you know what I want. You always do” she admitted, blushing slightly. She looked so cute that he almost forgot that he was supposed to refuse her.

“Not today” he answered and started closing the door.

“Wait!” she protested, trying to stop the door with her hand. “Please, Oluo. Just tonight” she pleaded, knowing that her soft tone and desperate eyes can easily persuade him. Apparently he developed more self control than he thought, because he just sent her a judging glance.

“Look at you” he crossed his arms on his chest and leaned against the door frame. “You always act so cool and tough, you simp for Levi because of his strength and abilities, but in the end you always run back to me, begging to be fucked. Every time you promise it's the last time, knowing fully well you will break that promise” he pointed out, observing with satisfaction as her blush was growing. “Aren't you ashamed of yourself?” he asked, for a brief moment wondering if he didn't push it too far.

“I am and you don't have to remind me that” she admitted, anger overflowed her. “Besides, it's just sex, why are you so sensitive suddenly?”

“I believe I told you the last time. It was never just sex to me, it was always so much more. And I'm not interested in doing that again until you want to fully commit.”

“Well, if you're not interested, I'll leave you here with blue balls” she huffed, but his chuckle and amused tone made her realize it was a poor choice of words.

“Petra, you are coming to me, I'd say it's you who will be left with blue balls in this situation.”

“Oh, shut up. Why can't you just give me what I want?”

“Because even you don't know what you want.”

“I do. Right now I want you to give me another mind blowing orgasm the way you always do” she came closer and spoke quietly, making sure he was the only one who heard it.

“You are cute when you're horny” he smirked. “Which is nothing new actually, you are always cute.”

“Stop playing along, either let me in or I'm going away.”

“Then go away. But I'm pretty sure you neither can nor want to do that” Oluo said confidently. He could clearly see how desperate she was to get laid.

“I wish you bit off your tongue and died finally” she growled.

“Oh, honey, but you love this tongue so much.”

“Then put it in a good use.”

“Alright, fine, you won. I'll give you what you want” he surrendered. He knew from the beginning that he couldn't resist her for too long. However, if he played it well, he could got more than he gave. He took a mental note to thank Nanaba later for her idea. “On one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You do exactly as I say. No protest until I ask. Understood?” he asked. Petra looked like she was struck by lightning, she swallowed hard and Oluo could swear her knees buckled under her. Did he accidentally discover her kink?

“Y-yes” she stuttered. He moved away and let her in.

“Undress” he commanded and sat on the bed, then took off his shoes and ODM straps, staying only in his pants and shirt. He observed how she was undressing with nervousness and excitement, as she didn't know what he had in mind, and he felt his arousal rising. When she was finally naked, she looked at him with anticipation.

“What now?” she asked, at first she tried to cover herself, but one look at his face was enough to stop her.

“Kneel here” he pointed a spot in front of him and she did, then looked at him again. She could easily see the characteristic bulge in his pants that meant he enjoyed it as much as she did. “Who do you belong to tonight?” he asked quietly, almost in a predatory way, taking a hold of her chin to make her keep looking at him.

“No one” she answered and gasped, when his fingers wrapped around her throat.

“Wrong. You have one more chance, but answer correctly this time.”

“You?” she half asked with uncertainty.

“Good girl. See, it wasn't that hard. I knew you are smart enough to figure it out” he praised her. Petra's eyes widened at the sound of that pet name and she bit her lip, she liked it way more than she expected to. “Do you trust me?” Oluo asked, this time completely seriously, with no shade of teasing or playing.

“With my life” she answered, which was the truth, every member of Survey Corps trusted the other with their life.

“Good” he quickly pulled her up and bent her over his knees. Her cheeks reddened even more at the position. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes” she whispered breathlessly.

“Alright. Your recent behavior is unacceptable. You were just playing with me, using me for pleasure when you needed it, then throwing away and over and over again. I'm going to punish you for that” he informed her, explaining the reason behind all of this.

“Alright” she nodded in confirmation. Her breath hitched when she felt his hand caressing her butt. She realized what it was going to be about only a moment before she felt a stinging slap she gasped in surprise at. It hurt, but in a good way.

“This will be your punishment. Let's start with five. Will you count for me?” he asked and she nodded vigorously. She had never been spanked before, but this new feeling that was awakened in her was very intriguing and exciting. And with every new hit, followed by gentle caressing to soothe the pain, she was being more and more sensitive and it was driving her crazy. Finally she counted to five. “Good girl. Are you alright?”

“Yes” she answered and smiled lightly to confirm her words more. Her breath was a little faster, her cheeks were blushed, and she felt more wet than ever, but there was no sign he hurt her.

“Do you want me to continue?”

“Yes.”

“Let's see how much you can take, shall we? If you want me to stop, just say the word "enough". If you say "stop", we quit everything, you dress up and leave, alright?” he asked, explaining everything carefully and making sure she understood.

“Alright” she agreed, feeling a twitch of excitement between her legs. She counted obediently every spank, but after a few another, she started having trouble focusing, she couldn't stop moans of pain mixed with pleasure as well. But Oluo was surprisingly patient with her, he kept giving her breaks between every spank to collect her thoughts, waiting for her counting before giving another smack. When they reached twenty, she started crying. Her skin became really sensitive and every hit was more and more painful, and all the feelings of shame mixed with pleasure started to be overwhelming. He wanted to stop immediately, but she insisted she could take some more, he was so gentle and caring that she felt like she was melting inside. At thirty, she finally said enough. Oluo immediately turned her around and cradled in his arms, careful of her ass.

“You are such a good girl” he praised her, kissing her hair. Petra let out an ugly sob, clutching onto his chest. “Do you want a moment to calm down?”

“Yes, please” she choked out. “Just a moment.”

“Just a moment” he echoed. She looked very adorable, but somewhere in his chest and head formed darkness, saying that he crossed the line and hurt her. He never liked to see her in tears. When she stopped sobbing, he handed her a handkerchief, so she could blow her nose.

“I'm fine” she smiled, though trails of tears were still wet on her cheeks. “We can continue.”

“Do you like this?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes. I could never expect that, but all of this... being completely under control... That feels good. Maybe that's what draws me to Levi. That he can command very well. I never knew you are as good at this as him” she said sheepishly and despite initial bitterness, Oluo felt pride swelling in his chest. Petra said he was as good as Levi. Well, he was about to prove her wrong. He wasn't as good, he was better.

“Alright. Get down and kneel on the floor” he ordered, but helped her to actually do it. “This pretty face of yours deserved to be put in a good use” he smirked, grasping gently her face with his one hand and caressing her cheek with his thumb. Meanwhile his other hand worked on getting rid of his pants and setting his cock free. When he finally did, he sighed with relief, it started to feel uncomfortable to keep an erected penis in tight pants. Petra licked her lips and moved a little closer, excited to taste her lover. He let go of her face and put his hand on her head. She gasped and purred in delight, opening her mouth for him. If someone told Oluo he was going to see something like that, he would laugh at them. It seemed impossible to get Petra this submissive, and suddenly it was real. She gave his cock a light suck to test the waters and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning. It wasn't the first time she was giving him a head, but for the first time she was so soft about it. He got a vicious idea. “Petra, relax your throat” he said and she looked at him with her big, trusting eyes and did as he asked, taking his cock deep in her throat the best as she could. He wrapped his fingers around her throat, the other hand still placed firmly in her hair, and started to carefully fuck her mouth, and the way he could feel his cock deep in her throat with his hand, was heavily turning him on. It lasted for a moment, until Petra made a wrong move and choked, Oluo immediately forgot about his pleasure, let go of her and made sure she was fine.

“That was interesting” she smiled when she finally could breathe again. “Can I do something?” she asked and it took him a second to realize she wanted his permission.

“Sure” he answered, still a little startled by that accident. However, Petra was completely unbothered, she stood up from her position, pushed him a little further to the bed and took a sit on his lap, straddling him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I want to try this position if you don't mind” she said sheepishly. Usually she demanded positions which weren't providing much closeness, so that was quite surprising for him, but there was no way he would disagree to that.

“Of course I don't” he smirked, took his cock in his hand, it was still covered in her saliva, then rubbed it against her wet folds, making her shiver. She carefully slid down on him and stayed still for a moment, giving them both some time to get used to. She was so wet and tight, and the feeling of him stretching her was better than ever before. After a while she started to move and he had to admit that it was the best sex they'd ever had. This position allowed them to be closer than before, he could hear her gasps and moans almost in his ear and the way she tangled her hand in his hair was bringing him closer to release. His thumb found her clit and started to stimulate it, although she didn't need a lot to come. And so she did, moaning his name for the first time they started having sex, which was enough to set him off the edge. They remained in this position for a while, trying to calm down. Oluo tried to say something, but Petra did another thing she never did: she looked at him, then kissed him hard. It was a very needy and sloppy kiss, full of teeth, tongues and spit. It would had been awkward and uncomfortable in other situations, but given the circumstances, it was perfect.

“I'm sorry” she said quietly when they broke the kiss. “I'm sorry that I made you feel like I needed you only for sex.”

“But that's what you need me for. And it hurts” he replied as quietly as she did.

“Let's go to sleep, shall we?” she asked, not able to admit he was right. And it was another thing he didn't expect, usually she would hang out for a while, but eventually leave, she rarely would stay for the night.

“Anything you want” he agreed, letting her get up from his lap. They cleaned themselves off as much as they could and went to bed. “How do you feel?” he asked, when they lied down comfortably, ready to fall asleep.

“Good. Tonight was very eventful” she answered and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“I admit, I've never thought you could look even hotter than usual, but seeing you tonight, so obedient and pretty, with such a beautiful ass, all red and spanked... I've never seen anything more perfect.”

“I've never thought I could like it this much” she admitted, nuzzling her face into his chest. “Thank you for everything.”

“It was pure pleasure” he smirked and kissed her hair.

“Oh, it absolutely was” she agreed. “Goodnight, Oluo” she said, ready to sleep.

“Goodnight, Petra” he said back, still with a sting in his chest.

When Oluo woke up, it was still quite early. At first he was a little confused why there is a woman in his bed, but he quickly woke up enough to understand. Last night was definitely something special for both of them, he even asked himself what did it mean. Did Petra have any feelings for him that she was too scared or uncertain to voice? Or maybe it all meant nothing, as she still had a crush on Levi? There was only one way to find out. He gently leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, having in mind the first moment he tried it and how mad she was. But to his surprise, Petra kissed him back, smiling softly through the kiss. He pulled away to look at her.

“Good morning” she smiled wider, not opening her eyes yet. “First such a great evening, now a sweet morning, you're spoiling me, Oluo” she said, clearly showing she was awake enough to be aware of his company. “I don't deserve it.”

“You don't, but it doesn't mean I'm going to stop” he laid back on the pillow. “I love you too much.”

Petra sighed and opened her eyes. She knew she couldn't avoid this conversation forever, but it didn't mean she wasn't going to try.

“I wish I could say it back with such a confidence. I wish I knew what am I feeling and what do I want. But I don't. And I really hope to figure it out soon, because you don't deserve to be treated like that” she said sadly.

“I spoke to Mikasa the other day.”

“You did?”

“We were drinking with Moblit. Apparently they also have the same issue: that people they care about see only Levi. And Mikasa said you are lost and confused by your feelings. Why?”

“What do you mean "why"? If I knew why, I wouldn't be confused. But what I'm sure of is that I've never trusted anyone the way I trust you now” she answered with a seriousness in her voice.

“Not even Levi?” he mocked bitterly.

“Not even Levi” she repeated his words, but her tone was a firm confirmation, not a question. “I still have a crush on him. But I guess I also have a crush on you now. And I don't know what to do” she admitted.

“You need to make up your mind, Petra. You can't have it all. Either you move on from captain, or everything between us is over. I'm sorry to do this to you, but I can't take it anymore. I'm tired of being in love with a woman who needs me only for sex. Even if you never meant to hurt me, you did. So be mature and choose one of us” he said, then stood up and left the bed. His words might had been brutal, but he knew it had to be done finally. They couldn't live like this. He couldn't live like this. And the sooner Petra admits she doesn't want to move on her crush on Levi, the sooner Oluo can start to move on his crush on her. Because deep down he didn't expect her to declare her love for him, he spent too many years wishing for that, only to be beaten by Levi every time.

They dressed up in silence and left the room together, not really caring whether someone would see them. Petra went to her room, while Oluo headed directly to the dining hall, visiting a bathroom in his way there. He grabbed some food and took a seat with Gunther and Eld. Petra appeared a couple of minutes after and did exactly the same thing. None of them spoke a lot, so they ate their breakfast in a comfortable silence.

As they finished, Levi approached the table and told them they were going on a short expedition beyond the Wall. Oluo paled and looked at Petra, knowing fully well that she was unable to ride a horse and it was because of him. But she didn't say a word, even though her butt still hurt a little when she was sitting. She got ready in no time, absolutely convinced she could handle some pain. But it quickly turned out that it was the worst horse ride she ever experienced. And on top of that, she heard Levi calling her.

“Petra, come here, we need to talk” captain ordered and she moved her horse to ride next to him. They separated slightly from the rest, to talk in privacy.

“What is it, captain?” she asked, having no clue what possibly could he want from her.

“The fuck are you doing?” he asked straightforwardly and she looked at him with shock.

“Excuse me?”

“I spoke to the other veterans who spoke to Oluo recently. And he told them what a mess your relationship is” he explained and Petra paled. The last thing she wanted was for Levi to interfere in her life. “I know you have feelings for me. It's not hard to notice that” he said and she turned from pale white to furiously red. “And I'm happy you respect that I am in a relationship with Hanji. But what also is hard to miss are Oluo's feelings for you. And you are playing him the way you want.”

“It's not like that...”

“It's not? Then how would you call fucking a guy when you have feelings for another? That's not fair what you do, Petra.”

“I know. I really hurt him because I'm too selfish to give up on someone” she admitted with a sigh.

“Have in mind that all the time we have here is very limited. We can die any moment. Don't waste your time. That's what Erwin told me when he pushed me to confess my feelings for Hanji and I can't disagree with that. Now I'm happier than ever to have a partner who loves me as much as I love them, who always knows exactly what I need and who is by my side no matter what happens” he said and Petra turned her head to look back. He was right. Through all these years it was not Levi who remained by her side, who was where she needed him, who was ready to do anything for her. It was Oluo. And that realization knocked the air out of her lungs, when she realized and felt how much he loved her. And the same moment she realized that she loved him back, but she was too scared to admit it and would rather live in denial, distracting herself by that childish crush on Levi.

“Thank you, captain. I think that's all I needed. A final push to make the right decision” she smiled.

“Good. You can go now” he dismissed her, quite happy with the outcome of this conversation. He had new gossips to treat Erwin with, a perfect occasion to negotiate a new fancy tea.

Petra slowed down, waiting for the rest of the squad to follow, then took a place by Oluo's side. He was riding in the back, so they could talk.

“How are you?” he asked with concern.

“A little pain can't stop me” she replied, she was so invested in her thoughts, that she nearly forgot about the pain she still felt.

“Good girl” he teased quietly and smirked at her blush.

“Not here, please” she whined, biting her lip.

“Alright. What were you talking about with captain?” he asked, trying to sound casually, but it was obvious that the curiosity was eating him up.

“Something we have to talk about later. When we're back, meet me in my room, I have something important to tell you” she answered and the weird gleam in her eyes intrigued him. “And don't expect to leave soon, we're going to have a lot of fun” she winked at him and rode away, before he could ask. Her words lightened a spark of hope in his heart and he couldn't wait to talk to her.

Petra was so happy and excited. She was finally ready to move on from her crush on Levi, confess her feelings for Oluo and start officially dating him. She looked forward to their future together and she couldn't wait to discover the new ways to spice up their sex. She was really optimistic about it.

If she only knew it would never happen. If they only could discover the identity of Female Titan earlier and stop her in time. Maybe her foot wouldn't be the last thing Petra saw in her life, and Oluo's terrified scream of her name wouldn't be ringing in her ears, as she was smashed against the tree. Maybe heartbroken Oluo, devastated by the loss of the love of his life, would hear the words he wanted to hear from her instead of dying a moment later? Maybe they could have a happy ending. Levi could only wonder, as he was looking at the bodies of his fallen comrades. His whole squad didn't exist anymore, because of one titan. He looked at Petra's still face and wondered if that was going to be his final memory of her, because he would rather remember her the way she was a few hours earlier. When she was so happy for her new life with a man she loved. Levi closed his eyes and rested his head on Hanji's shoulder. Not everyone could have a happy ending. All he prayed for was that he would have this chance.

[gumnut-logic]

Something Missed (Bit 2)

Bit 1 | Bit 2

Still just writing whatever comes out :D

Snow and bros, though a little less fun in this part, likely more fun in future parts :D

Many thanks to @tsarinatorment​ for reading and Scott coaching :D

I hope you enjoy it :D

-o-o-o-

He found Scott sulking in the library.

One of the bookshelves was in pieces on the floor, books scattered everywhere and Scott sat in a corner in his hoverchair glaring out a window.

Virgil had stripped off his boots, coat and hat in the hall, but despite shaking himself off, he still found both snow and water dripping off his clothes onto the carpet. Another thing he didn’t miss about snow.

He put his camera down carefully on the table, thumbing a melting snowflake off its case.

Scott didn’t say anything or even acknowledge his presence. It was to be expected. The previous week had been hell. His brother was a rainbow of bruises down one side, starting with a black eye and ending with a busted ankle.

The worst part of it was that his injuries had been in vain as the rescuee had died shortly after being rescued. Through no fault of International Rescue, it had just been one of those things.

It had hit Scott hard. It was the tip of the iceberg and the straw that broke the camel’s back and a whole pile of other metaphors Virgil wanted to ignore. In summary, it sucked, Grandma called it and sent them to Canada for a vacation.

Canada in January was a very cold place.

But it was a warm cabin with plenty of those luxury touches a wad of billionaires required and there were winter sports galore to be had.

Unfortunately, three days in, Scott was still a mess and Virgil still hadn’t found a crack in his brother’s maudlin.

The library had large windows, most with seating for reading below, so, without a word, Virgil quietly sat down beside his brother and stared out into the snow.

The vista was truly beautiful. The house sat at the top of a hill and they could see across a frozen-white, lake-filled valley draped in pines and skeletal trees.

The howling form of both Alan and Brandon running from a yelling Gordon wasn’t something you usually saw on the postcards of the region, nor the waddling form of burrito John following not far behind, but Virgil, and no doubt Scott, had long ago become used to that kind of scenic interruption.

“They’ve grown up.”

Virgil blinked. “What?”

“Last time I saw them in the snow, they were just kids.” Scott’s voice was quiet and a little lost.

Virgil snorted. “Physically perhaps, mentally is debatable.”

As if to prove his point, John balled up a massive bomb of snow and dumped it on Gordon’s head.

Virgil’s eyebrow arched. John starting it? John usually ended it.

“They have grown. So much.”

Virgil’s heart twisted at his brother’s wistful tone. “Yeah, I guess. But they haven’t lost their spark.”

“No, no they haven’t.”

Scott kept staring out into the snow.

Virgil watched him a moment. “And neither have you.”

That prompted his brother to turn and look at him. The bruised eye was healing but it would be a while yet. It lop-sided his face and dulled the blue of his irises, both sclera bloodshot and red. “Sometimes, Virg, I wonder.”

“I don’t.”

That almost brought a smile from his brother, even if it would have been a condescending one. “No, but then you’re biased.” Scott sighed and shifted uncomfortably in the chair, turning to stare out the window again.

Virgil exhaled quietly. This was getting them nowhere. Three days and his brother was still sad.

It was understandable. Hell, Virgil had been there himself.

Perhaps that was why it hurt so much. He knew what his brother was going through and that was the last thing he wanted for him. For any of them.

He couldn’t fix it, but by god, he would try to help.

Rescues didn’t always need a Thunderbird.

Sometimes they just needed a little love.

“Come outside?”

Those eyes flicked to Virgil. “Why?”

“For me?”

“Virg-“

“No, really, I want you with me.” He drew in a breath. “You always come with me into the snow.”

It was unspoken as to why and technically it was dirty pool on Virgil’s part, but he had run out of options.

Scott’s lips thinned, bringing his split lip into contrast as the blood was forced out.

“You were fine out there earlier.”

Virgil shrugged.

“You have been fine on every snow rescue for the last ten years. I wouldn’t have sent you if you weren’t.”

“That you know of.” Okay, it was a risk, but this was Scott and be damned if Virgil was going to let him rot inside for the entire week.

“What do you mean?” Those red eyes widened.

“I mean, I like it when you go with me out into the snow.”

Scott frowned enough to wince. He was obviously caught between big brother concern and the knowledge that Virgil was just manipulating him.

Gordon ran past the window yelling like a banshee, followed by Brandon hooting like a loon.

It was enough to snap Scott out of the stare-down and have him glaring out of the window again.

“Why exactly did we invite Brandon Berenger on this trip?”

“Alan wanted some company of his own age. Sucks being the youngest some times.”

Scott grunted.

“Hey, we’re doing both of them a favour. Brandon has no brothers or sisters. This is a big thing for him. And Alan…needs friends.” He tilted his head a little. “Besides, Brandon looks up to you.”

That earned him another glare.

“We all do.”

Scott sighed. “Are you finished?”

Virgil straightened where he sat. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“Whether you will come out in the snow with me or not.”

Scott’s exasperated grunt was a victory. As he turned the hoverchair around, he didn’t stop glaring at Virgil for one second.

Virgil ignored it. “I’ll help you get dressed.”

“I’m not an invalid.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get your ass into something warm, I want to show you the view before it stops snowing.”

Another grunt and his brother headed off towards his rooms. Virgil stood to follow and couldn’t help but smile just a little.

It was a step in the right direction.

If he had to drag his brother the entire way, he would.

But then, once they were outside, he had back up.

-o-o-o-

Next

[imaginaryhuman]

Insecurities, Fortitude and the Unfortunate Phenomenon of Gatekeeping

Note:

1. I'm trying to not be afraid of my own opinions (this will probably get a different word wall)

2. This isn't a hot take or a "permanent opinion". It's just...current. I think opinions fit a dynamic mold. Or I think it should since circumstances change and experiences can change thought processes.

3. My initial draft for this was a lot more aggressive and angry. When I started writing, I thought I would only tackle the one thing I was very familiar with (insecurities), then I read an article that miffed me a bit because of the gatekeeping vibes, and for a while, I was angry about it but then I realized how common it was. I've heard it from my brothers, I've experienced it with fandoms, with books, with cooking, and with running. There's even a subreddit for it! 👀

It's not like I'd wake up one day and it will be gone. Still, it does push me a few steps back when it comes to conquering slight misanthropy. But it matters to me to say this cause I grew up seeing myself as some last draw.

_____________________________________________________________

"I feel most responsible for myself when I'm insecure" I've wanted to expound on this for a while so here goes:

I've grown to have an intimate (and rather painful) relationship with insecurities. I was a sickly child so I would be in and out of hospitals so frequently that establishing young friendships didn't come easy. Some kids didn't take kindly to impermanence too and it's not anyone's fault. It just happened to be that way. Growing up, I came to realize that I wasn't exactly great at anything. Had I not been exposed to extraordinary minds, maybe I would have come to terms with it much kindly except I wasn't. I always thought that people around me were brilliant, smart, and talented (until now). To the point where I felt the need to alienate myself from it all so I could remain in the forefront of my own mind.

Comparisons come naturally but having them weigh on you is a different ball game altogether. Learning ways out of it is always challenging because insecurities aren't just a singular form of monster-- Sometimes it's about the future, sometimes it's body image, sometimes it's the gripping idea of not being enough for anything you love and it's all so cursed and horrible.

There was that time when more things were piled up on the mental shelving. I was talking shit about someone. Sure, people do it all the time but I think that time I was... viciously and purposelessly nitpicking. Everything I could say about that person, I said it. Totally not proud of that moment and a friend thought so too! First, they told me to shut the fuck up. Just like that, really. Next is they pointed it out. As in told me "V, you have a problem and it's really fine being a total hater but you're not usually like this with other things you dislike. What's wrong?" and then we EXPLORED. Doing this can be so cringe a lot of times but hey, we face the music in this club! I was happy to not be thinking about it alone and the experience made me learn a new way of confronting things and issues that make me feel insecure.

We talked about the whats, whys, and hows of being one hell of a hater and how even if certain reasons are justified. Like, okay, someone did something bad to you and you hate them for it? That's totally valid. Do you find certain traits a bit off your tastes? that's valid too! But even if they are valid feelings, most of the time it's not enough to justify certain actions. The thing is, we don't really have the right to be so up in someone's business about every little thing they do. It's frustrating and I feel like a hypocrite saying this sometimes because I have the obsessive compulsion to keep everyone at arm's length but I feel like there's a parameter where peoples' businesses either become something welcome or becomes a blip on a radar that I'd aggressively shoot down. Although I know that my radar can get too wide and that I need some willpower to hold back snark and suspicion. What can I say, I'm weak to any notions of ill-intent (a byproduct of assault).

But fortitude would sometimes come from borrowed words:

"Don't deny yourself what you think but don't do yourself a disservice by not figuring out what it really is about"

I was told then. To be truthful but exercise tact (I'm neither tactful, clever nor silent hence the trouble that follows) and to be mindful of the undercurrents of my thoughts. I think it's important to take a step back and at least ask yourself the most honest and genuine whys.

Insecurity has a bad rep and is too often used derogatorily for something so common and rather natural. But I feel that ultimately, insecurity stems from an understanding of what you don't have and the frustration of having aspirations. Having aspirations being a good thing but the frustration makes us people act up in so many different ways. For me, insecurities have primarily manifested themselves through the urge to just hide everything that makes me happy because I couldn't (and it's still hard to) stand digs at the things I do to keep me sane. Plus I've always thought them (happy things) few and temporary so that's that. Younger me was weird about it omg.

The rule in this house now though is to express what makes me happy and I think I've saved up a bit of grit to not allow myself to be gatekept (by others and by myself**) from those happy things! I love a lot of things (baking, running, reading, pets, anime & manga, drawing...) and the gatekeeping going on with all those? Surprisingly plenty! A totally different word block (that I won't write because I think this has to be put to rest here), really, and also a total nightmare. But how it applies in the realm of insecurities is... Oh, boi. Ignore it-- it's just bad news as it is strong fuel to a fire you don't want to keep going. If you love doing what you do and you're not hurting anyone then just keep going. I know for a fact that the things I love doing are loved by many others too because running? Creating things? Reading? These are things worth loving without it having to be a competitive chore (If you wanna challenge goals though then hey! Good on you! YOU CAN DO IT!)

Draw your lines, plan your layering in a way that fits your style. Use the tools that work for you. Put on your shoes and get going. I'm only particular with speed because I want to get better (and lol I am not fast) but just being out there and moving? That's already running. Fail some recipes or nail em, whatever happens, just try. Fangirl over what you wanna fangirl about! Post it on your IG and all your other socials. A rather horrifying realization is that no matter what you do, someone's gonna take a dunk at ya. Worse, you can be intentionally approached and engaged for that purpose primarily. It's okay (not really but... if it happens, it happens ). Even if you're used to it, it will still get to you but maybe less and less through time. When the voice of apprehension guides you to retaliate in the most painful way you know, just keep the fear at bay and be strong to not let that urge take over your words and actions. Be frustrated! It's fine! And I really don't support self-harm so please don't misunderstand when I say that when it comes to fear and insecurity, there's a lot you have to take on yourself so you don't hurt others. A lot to unpack between you and your brain. There are people who can love you without patronizing you and those you can trust to reign you in when you lose better judgment. Be honest and let them in.

Have that conversation.

//

Extras:

- AH! But I got to say this cause I also saw a post that said "if you haven't ran 50 to 100 miles, you don't know what a hard run is" wow. Fuck that guy. Actually, don't. He's probably not a fun date.

- this: "you can be intentionally approached and engaged for that purpose primarily" is from experience. An extra worse thing is to be vilified for retaliating. Like...was I just supposed to sit there and take it?

- I used to not like motivational quotes! I mean, I'm alright with them now for sure! We were talking about them and I was asked "What's wrong with properly credited borrowed words? You use them all the time since you like referencing songs." and it was like a tunnel of light appeared before me! Sorry for those whose post I've frowned at! I had an angst phase! I am very genuinely sorry 🙏🏻

[babysprouseisart]

It is abnormal to create a filthy dump of needless insults and mockery of human nature

Nowadays, people are more and more forgetting about humanity and simple respect for each other.

This is not surprising, there is always a place and people who fall out of the normality of society, representing nothing more than insignificance.

One of the most rotten places, with the exception of some of its smallest ‘islands’, where a bunch of rats gather and spread various gossip and exclamations, is the long-suspected and identified Twitter.

It would seem for a second, since the personification of Twitter is a blue bird, proudly spreading its wings, that this place is about something bright and great, noble, because this very bird declared in the label, is presumably about to start its beautiful melodious singing, and so will continue from day to day.

However, this is just a stupid deception that draws people into this ugly world, whose personification can only be described as a dump, a large pile of manure with flies around and maggots in it.

And each of us simply has to decide for himself who he wants to be: a gentle and affectionate bird or a dung fly.

After all, it depends on each of us, on our behavior and conversations, posts, and so on, whether this place can become something better, transform itself so that it is going to be pleasant for everyone and the harmony to reign between the inhabitants.

Unfortunately, it is easier for many subjects to take the side of filth and evil than on the side of nobility and good.

It is much easier to pour buckets of dirt into this place, insult others, humiliate them, act low, than to tell compliments, support people, keep all the bile in yourself and direct all the negative energy in the right direction.

And one of these representatives of such garbage is the example below:

I am more than sure, and I'm very concerned about how the Earth is even holding this creature, because it can not be called a person, or even more so a personality, because it lacks any morally significant qualities, has almost completely atrophied.

Just look at how he forms his opinion, how he repeats and literally cracks all over just to judge, be so disgusting and hurt someone, and in this case, his potential victim is an actor, everyone's favorite performer of the role of Jughead Jones  - Cole Sprouse.

That's disgusting, isn't it?

But that lousy worm apparently doesn't think so.

Or maybe there are those who agree with him?

If there are such, then I strongly advise you not to continue, do not torment your eye sockets, unfollow me and go fuck yourself, sit wanking in your dung pit.

And for those who stand in solidarity with me, we continue the court of contempt and shame.

We all know, at least real fans of Cole or just mentally healthy people, how much he had to suffer this summer and spring.

Cancellation trend, death threats, address leaks, heavy breakup, and so on, along with bullying like this, which again spilled out of this stinking place - Twitter.

Maybe it's time to end this?

Maybe it's not okay to insult and humiliate a person who is nothing more than a stranger to you? Maybe it is enough and deciding for others how they would be better off should be over? Perhaps we should not accuse another of imperfection, when nobody is perfect?

Don't say anything, because I know that those who continue to read this are full of common sense and are people, not soulless creatures.

I just want to say and perhaps announce the common opinion that no person, being a representative of the human race, for anything in the world, under any circumstances, does not deserve such a vile insult and equating with an animal or inanimate things. Although even animals in their diversity do not deserve discrimination and disrespect. And each of the living being is destined for something in life.

Speaking of us as representatives of the human kind, we are neither dogs, cats, or elephants or, nor a ball, a glass or something else. We are people and we, by we I mean each of us, where Cole is no exception, regardless of how popular we are, what is the kind and type of our activity and national affiliation, deserve human treatment.

To equate someone with a dog and a breed of dog, to compare parts of the body or organ, such as teeth, with those of a dog, is humiliating and so disgusting that I can only imagine what a person might feel.

This is not normal. This is very different, incomparable, and a person is therefore a person, he differs from animals in all the aspects studied in social science .

People, think about how you would feel in the place of the person whom you insulted? Imagine that your mother, little sister or brother is called obscenely, comparing to a monster or some kind of Chupacabra, that looks not pleasant. It's not funny and even stupid. This is a kind of humiliation of dignity. Downplaying the role of a man and literally equating it with less developed organisms, I'm not saying that they are not developed at all, but in fact, they do not have what has developed in the process of evolution in humans, which is contradictory.

Yes, I understand you may not like this particular man, we all we have different opinions, how many people - so many opinions, but to nuzzle the man in the features of the physique, face shape and other qualities like an animal in the own shit is bad and unhealthy.

It is especially unbearable when a person has a feature, and some people turn it into a disadvantage and shame. Like, what?

As, for example, in the case of Cole. Yes, he has an uneven tooth. So what? God forbid you will never encounter such a problem, but please look at yourself in the mirror or under the microscope and you will definitely find your own features or disadvantages, it doesn’t matter how you call it.

That’s why this is no reason to insult him for what nature has given him.

And he doesn't need to fix it for the sake of scum like these trolls on Twitter, because he's not ashamed of it, it's a feature of him, not a shameful flaw.

He is handsome with this tooth in his own way, different from other people and, by the way, having a charming smile, no matter what. As handsome with his special features as each of us with our uniqueness, objectively. Maybe for some he is more handsome than a certain other, for some - less, whatever, but it still should not cross the line appropriateness.

I sincerely do not understand people who are bullying or making attempts to mock this person, instead of emphasizing the important, beautiful qualities of him as a person.

That is why I appeal to everyone who understands at least a little what I'm talking about, with a request - think and reconsider your life positions.

Do not be a dung beetle that oozes bile out of hatred and envy for another, be the same bird or butterfly that brings respect and respect to another, so that the place, like Twitter, where you live, act, or whatever becomes better and flourishes. Thank you to everyone who read this, and everyone who didn't, because you don't need this, and I hope you will draw your own conclusions. The end.

[be11atrixthestrange]

Ron scolding Harry for not concern about Hermione and Krum's "relationship"("He is much older! he could perfectly take advantage of her, you know?") Harry gets tired of his claim and tells Ron about his conversation with Viktor in which he asked if Harry and her were more than friends. "If he bothered in finding out if she had feelings for someone else I don't think he's got bad intentions, mate. Just relax". How would Ron react?Relieved?Still wants to look out for her? What would he tell Harry?

Hi Anon! I have written quite a few conversations between Harry/Ron regarding Krum for Completely Mental, and this prompt was very similar, so I didn’t want to re-invent the wheel!  

I hope you enjoy my take on the Yule Ball! Check out the rest of the story in the link above if you like these moments ;).

The Yule Ball

Well, this was fun.

Harry was sitting frozen between Parvati and Ron at the Yule Ball, unsure what to say to either one of them.

Parvati probably wanted him to ask her to dance. He should ask, if he were to be a good date.

But if he got up and left, Ron would look like even more of an idiot, and Harry was already embarrassed enough for him. So he should stay with Ron, if he were to be a good friend.

His dilemma was solved when two Beauxbatons boys showed up to their table, offering their hands to Parvati and Padma.

"Do you mind?" Parvati asked in Harry's direction.

He shook his head.

Padma didn't even ask Ron- she took his hand and hurried back to the dance floor as if she couldn't get away from Ron fast enough.

Harry looked over at his best friend. Ron was dressed head to toe in maroon lace, wearing a scowl that told everyone at the ball to keep their distance. He stared out toward the dance floor, angrily watching Hermione and Krum. He didn't even seem to notice that his date had left, nor had he even thanked Harry for getting him a date. He hardly acknowledged the favor, and had barely spoken two words to Padma all evening.

Following Ron's gaze out to the dance floor, Harry spotted Krum, twirling Hermione to a fast paced song he didn't know. His view of Hermione and Krum was momentarily obscured by another couple, and Harry felt his own heart sink.

Cho and Cedric were huddled close together deeper in the throng of dancers. Cedric's lips brushed her ear, and she was laughing at whatever he had just whispered. Harry scowled as they turned, and he noticed how low his hands were on her waist. He willed himself to look away, and any annoyance he felt toward Ron dissipated as he swelled with empathy for his best friend.

"We could just leave, you know?"

Ron's expression didn't change, he just turned his scowl onto Harry. Harry flinched under his intense glare. "So Vicky can have a moment alone with her?" Fuck that."

Harry leaned away, looking at Ron incredulously. "Ron, they're just dancing. If it's bothering you so much, you don't have to watch them."

Ron didn't appear to have heard him, but now that the elephant in the room had been acknowledged he couldn't seem to shut up.

"When has she ever spoken to him? I don't understand how they even know each other."

Harry shrugged. He didn't understand that either. He had assumed that Hermione was always either spending time with them, or studying, but evidently she had a social life beyond Harry and Ron that neither knew anything about.

"She doesn't even think he's attractive, do you remember what she said about people only liking him because he's famous? What's she playing at?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted again.

"He's so much older too! That's just creepy, don't you think?"

Harry had considered that— it's true, Krum was older than Hermione, but Hermione was also older than both Harry and Ron, so Hermione might not see it that way.

Maybe they did know each other, and she liked him for reasons beyond the fact that he was famous. Harry had no way of knowing. However, it was also possible that she was at the ball with Krum for one very simple reason: he had asked her first.

After all, neither Harry nor Ron were at the ball with their preferred dates. Harry looked out at the crowd and wondered how many other students were actually here with their first choice partners. Harry hoped not Cho, and for Ron's sake, not Hermione.

"He's totally using her! He's gonna regret taking her to the ball, I'll make sure of it."

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron. In moments like this, Ron was more bark than bite. Harry doubted that he would even be able to get a word out to Krum if he ever actually approached Ron. He'd probably just end up asking for his autographic, and then beating himself up about it later.

Unfortunately, Harry was proven wrong when Krum turned and walked briskly toward the pair.

"Hello, Harry," said Krum as he approached. Harry looked up and expected to see Hermione, but she was no longer with him. "Ron, correct?"

Krum looked over at Ron, but he didn't answer, he just continued to scowl.

"Okay… Harry, Hermy-own-ninny has gone to the loo, I vas hoping ve could sit with you and haf drinks?"

Harry was about to answer in the affirmative, but was cut off by Ron.

"Why are you here with Hermione?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Ron's face was growing redder. "Why are you here with her? You know she's only fifteen, right?"

Krum looked shocked. "I'm sorry, if you think I haf the wrong intentions. I just enjoy her company, that is all. Hermy-oh-ninny and I get along very vell."

Ron scowled at him and sank further back into his seat. "Hermione. Try that again."

"Vat?"

Ron raised his voice. "Her-my-oh-nee. You're saying her goddamn name wrong. Has she never corrected you?"

"Oh. No, she hasn't." Krum looked over at Harry, as if willing him to back him up. Harry shrugged and shook his head. He had no idea what Ron was going for, nor how to stop him.

"Why couldn't you just go with someone else? You have so many other girls following you around because you're a famous Quidditch player, and you have to go with Hermione? Why?"

"I'm sorry, when I asked her it seemed like she vas available. I didn't know you haf feelings for her. She didn't tell me."

"I don't!" Harry scoffed as Ron shouted at Krum. Who was he kidding? "She's my friend, and you should keep your hands off her."

Krum narrowed his eyes at Ron. "If you vanted to come to the ball with her, you should haf asked."

He made to walk back to the dance floor, but turned around to look back at Ron before adding, "I von't tell her about this conversation."

Harry stared wide eyed at Krum as he turned on his heels and hurried toward the dance floor, where Hermione had returned. Ron continued to scowl at him as he leaned down to kiss Hermione on the cheek before turning toward the bar. She smiled and blushed.

Ron's clenched his fists. "Did he just kiss her?" He asked rhetorically. Hermione then spotted him, and hurriedly bid Fred and Angelina goodbye before making her way to the boys. Ron continued to scowl at her as she approached and Harry met her confused gaze with yet another shrug and shake of his head.

Krum must have kept his promise to Ron, because Hermione was clearly not privy to the conversation that had just occurred.

"It's hot, isn't it?" said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand. "Victor's just gone to get some drinks."

Ron gave her a withering look.

"Viktor?" He said. "Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?"

Harry winced, aware that a blazing row was coming, and he didn't want to get caught in the crossfire— again.

"What's up with you?" she said.

"If you don't know," said Ron scathingly, "I'm not going to tell you."

Harry froze, looking between his two best friends. Ron might as well have told Hermione everything she seemed to suspect, but didn't know. He watched understanding creep onto Hermione's face as her expression turned from anger to pity. He studied Hermione's expression- there was definitely more nuance to it than that, but Ron's rudeness combined with her frustration at him for nearly calling her a troll, however indirectly, left her looking at Ron like he was back in first year trying to cast Wingardium Leviosa with a the wrong hand motion and incorrect pronunciation.

Whatever his intentions were, they didn't matter, he was doing this all wrong. Hermione's attempt to mask her hurt resulted in a condescending scowl.

And that look set Ron off.

The two erupted into an argument, and Harry wished he could get up and leave without having them turn their anger back onto him.

He listened to Ron backtrack, trying to convince Hermione that the root of his anger was that Viktor Krum was from Durmstrang, and in direct competition with Harry. He continued to catch glimpses of their argument, unsure if he should try to mediate.

"Who's got a model of him up in their dormitory?" Hermione asked shrilly.

She had a point, but Ron ignored her.

At one point, Ron must have noticed how obvious his true feelings were because he stooped pretty low to hide them. "Obvious, isn't it? He's Karkaroff's student, isn't he? He knows who you hang around with… he's just trying to get closer to Harry— get inside information on him— or get near enough to jinx him—"

Hermione looked as though Ron had slapped her. And if words could slap someone, nothing would be more effective than Ron's implication that Victor's supposed interest in her was nothing more than a play to get ahead in the tournament. Her voice shook when she spoke next, biting back tears. "Ok. If I'm hearing you correctly, you think that there must be another motive for Victor to want to spend time with me. Because he's an international quidditch star, and could have any girl at this school, it makes no sense to you that he'd come to the ball with a… troll."

Harry snapped his head back toward Ron to see him contorting his face in a mixture of confusion and regret. "No, that's not what I meant."

But Hermione hadn't heard him. She had already stormed off, and was briskly walking back toward the dance floor, hastily wiping her eyes in an effort to compose herself.

Harry looked back over at Ron, who was avoiding his eye contact. Everyone around them had started staring, and Harry wished they wouldn't. Not for his sake, he was used to shrugging off attention, but for Ron's.

"I'm going to go." Ron stood up, and looked around, blushing as he noticed he had an audience.

Harry nodded as he watched Ron storm away through the doors of the great hall.

It was going to be a long night.

[deathly-mistaken]

About The Muses

FC: Otto Lotz

Name: Mercer Tueur

Age: 964 (Appears late twenties/early thirties)

Birthday: April 2nd

Sexuality: Bisexual

Gender: Cis Male

Location: London

Occupation: Shop Owner

Born into an elitist society of high elves, Mercer grew up with a very sheltered childhood. Despite that, he was still entranced with anything that might come from the outside of his isolated community - stealing books and items to consume as much knowledge as he could. He thought his people to be wonderful, to be bountiful in knowledge and to be kind to share it with even him. Although he was not allowed to enter the outside world to attempt to contact anyone from it, he was told it was for everyone’s safety and so he remained true in his beliefs.

And then he heard the screaming.

At only twenty, Mercer was still considered a young child and, as he heard screaming coming from a small house on the edge of the village, said to be owned by their leader, he began to become disillusioned. In the house, three men stood around a child - a human child - cutting them open and seeing what they looked like, only able to keep them alive through magic.

Later, when questioning his grandfather, he was told that it was how they got so much knowledge, how they were able to remain powerful and safe.

As he grew, Mercer came to terms with what his village was doing and decided it was wrong. It was forbidden for anyone other than the elders to learn magic - even so, he wouldn’t be able to defeat them - and so one night, he ran away in search of something that would be able to save the poor souls left dead by his people.

Eventually, he found Death, and a deal was struck. He was given powerful magic and told that if he could defeat the eldest in his village, then his years would be taken and restored to those who Mercer had asked for the release of. Two years of training with his abilities later, and the village lay dead, all those who profited from this torture slaughtered at his hand and their years given to the children as though their lives had never been taken, allowed to live long and happy lives.

It was only then that Death revealed the trued price that came with Mercer’s magic.

He bore a ring that gave him the powers, a simple piece of jewellery with green symbols engraved in it. Through bringing souls back from the dead, Mercer had bound himself to the ring, and as such, would live as long as the magic lasted - forever. Not only that, but if someone were else were to wear the ring, they would wield the power Mercer had gained and, as such, have power over Mercer.

—-

He now lives, nine hundred years later, on the edge of London in an old bookstore that he owns, procuring magical items for trade or simply for safekeeping. Though he does sometimes make use of his magic, he keeps it hidden as much as he can - he’d learnt the consequences of people finding out and would rather it didn’t happen again. He also spends a lot of his time researching the effects and nature of magic so others might better come to understand it. 

His ongoing research can be found here: The fundamental laws of magic

FC: Aldis Hodge

Name: Didar Omisha

Age: 960 (Appears to be in his late twenties)

Birthday: June 5th

Sexuality: Pansexual

Gender: Cis Male

Location: N/A

Occupation: Travelling Psychic

Didar is a travelling psychic that makes his way around the world telling fortunes and occasionally ruining/bettering lives. When he was younger, he witnessed an older boy from his village being granted unknown abilities from an entity that could only be described as nothingness itself. This in turn lead to him being hit by a residual energy wave leaving him with the ability to see when people will die and rather abstract seer properties as well as being immortal.

Shunned from his village for his apparent descent into madness after the event, Didar made his way to a sorcerer who he believed could help him in learning to control his abilities. Upon learning that it was the same boy from his village all those years ago, he made plans to stay with the man, a relationship seeming to developed as Mercer taught him. It appeared, however, that they were not compatible and so went their separate ways with Didar having full mastery over his abilities. From there, he began to travel the world, granting people a peek into their futures for a warm bed and a hot meal that night and nothing more.

Being the descendant of a siren (his grandmother) Didar also has the ability to be very manipulative and compelling with his words. This takes up too much energy and as such, he only uses it when he really needs to. Having gained his abilities in a similar way to Mercer, he also owns a small jewel which he keeps as a pendant on a chain around his neck which could be used to have power over him if another wore it.

FC: Gavin Leatherwood

Name: Clyde Draven

Age: 20

Birthday: July 10th

Sexuality: Demisexual (Biromantic)

Gender: Trans Male

Location: Mainly London

Occupation: Gang Member

About: On a warm summers night in the middle of July, an un-named woman gave birth to a young boy in the middle of an alley. She had been heading home with bags of shopping when it began and the energy with which she had to give birth forced the bags to go spilling onto the floor as she went into labour right there. A child with a thick mop of black hair was born, encased in shadows, as was the woman as the child drew her life force from her and made it his own.  A few hours later, a young man by the name of Scott stumbled upon the dead woman and the screaming child in her arms. An anonymous tip was made to the local police and the boy was adopted by Scott and his gang before they could get there.

Clyde was given his name by Scott - who he came to see as more of a brother than a father - but chose his last name himself. Growing up, he had no idea where he had came from, simply that Scott had found him and decided to take him in thanks to the kindness of his heart.

Each night, when Clyde slept, a ball of shadows encased him, casting complete darkness over anyone who might enter them. It was around the age of three that he learned he could slip easily from shadow to shadow and it was then that Scott began teaching him how to use his abilities - to Scott's advantage. Clyde quickly became a valuable member of the gang, able to slip in and out of and store without being noticed and arriving back home with a large haul of expensive items and, occasionally, cash. It was also quickly discovered that going out into the sunlight without proper covering would give Clyde horrible burns - these would heal within a few hours of exposure but Scott learned to use this to his advantage in controlling the boy, threatening him with the punishment anytime he refused to do as he was told.

Clyde a god of shadows that was forced to reincarnate into human form, however he is unaware of this fact and simply believes that he is an anomaly and is grateful for Scott taking him in.

FC: Eddie Redmayne

Name: Ruse Kearney

Age: N/A (Mentally 19)

Birthday: August 1st

Sexuality: Pansexual

Gender: Trans Male

Location: Anywhere in England

Occupation: Scam Artist / Thief

About: Ruse was declared 'normal' when he was born to a small but happy family in Ireland; a happy healthy baby that was brought home not too long after his birth. Unfortunately, he had what he has come to call a curse of being able to manipulate his age into anything he might wish. As a young child, only about a month after he had been brought home from the hospital, Ruse's abilities took shape and he found himself as a twenty year old man, naked in a babies crib.

His parents, thinking that this man had done something with their son, immediately called the police, forcing Ruse to flee on shaky legs and barely able to form a single word.

After a few years of travelling around Ireland as best he could - unable to hold a form more than a week before his age changed once more - Ruse finally grasped a handle on his abilities and normal human functions. It wasn't the best of situations, but he was able to talk, walk and run as well as change his age with purpose. He learnt that, when he was a child, people would take pity on him and give him a bed and food for the night with a promise to call social services in the morning. By the morning, Ruse was usually gone with whatever money he could find, travelling to the next town.

It has been 19 years and Ruse still continues with this scam; changing into a child of about 5, knocking on a strangers door and asking for help and then leaving in the morning as a man of about 20 so he couldn't be found again. Unfortunately he still does not have complete control over his abilities and will sometimes find himself changing age whether or not he wants to.

Ruse also has the ability to change the age of others although he is neither aware of this yet, nor does he know how to control it.

[entomjinx]

No More

No matter how close the two of them were to their friends, there were just some things that they just didn’t speak about. It wasn’t because they didn’t trust them, because Natsu and Gray would trust their guild with their lives with no hesitation, but rather their tendency to gossip. 

Natsu was nice to all of the girls in the guild, so naturally, there were rumors about him with at least half of them. They were all wrong of course, he was without a doubt, only involved in sibling-like relationships with all but one of them. He wasn’t dating nor interested in the exception to the rule either. He greatly disliked her because of what she did to Gray, and what she caused the guild to think of them. 

The entire guild was convinced Gray was dating Juvia, and this could absolutely not be farther from the truth of the matter. She was a stalker, and that was that. Unfortunately the guild saw Gray’s rejections as him “playing hard to get,” but Natsu knew better. He was the way Gray flinched when she was near, and he was aware of some of the things she’d done. 

He was also keenly aware of how not one of their friends ever turned the one true possibility into a rumor. 

The two of them had been dating since they were children, and now they were convinced that no one would believe them if they said anything. 

Luckily for them, they won’t have to.

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

Natsu was comfortable. His head was on Gray’s chest as he intently listened to his heartbeat. They were at his house this time, eager to get away from the guild after a mission and desperate to do nothing but be in the other’s company. 

“She followed us again,” Gray whispered as a shudder ran through him. Their mission had been long, but trying to avoid Gray’s stalker was more difficult to do in the middle of nowhere than in a city. 

Natsu’s nose scrunched up in annoyance. “Yeah, I noticed. She really needs to back the hell off.” He pulled Gray closer and the blanket around them tighter, content with the thought of never letting go.

Gray didn’t speak for a moment. “Yeah… but I can deal with-”

“No,” Natsu interrupted, “I’m tired of watching you have to deal with this shit… The next time she tries something, I’m calling her out then and there.I’ll even call her a creepy bitch to her face.”

“Natsu, no-”

Natsu huffs, “Gray, I know you don’t want to hurt her feelings, but she’s destroying your mental state. I listened and stayed out of it for almost a year. I’m done. I’m tired of watching her hurt you and you doing nothing to protect yourself.” He holds Gray’s gaze as best he can without actually moving from his comfy spot. “I love you, okay? But I can’t just do nothing anymore.” 

A soft sigh leaves Gray’s lips, and he only says one other thing that night, “I love you too, Natsu.”

----------

The very next day, Natsu got the opportunity he’d wanted for the past year. The moment Juvia stepped into the building, she made her way to their table and Gray. Natsu was already between them, keeping his plan subtle at first by pretending he didn’t notice her approach. He leaned against the booth and tucked his legs up into the hoodie he’d borrowed from Gray, making sure to block the entire seat, which kept Gray against two walls and Juvia on the other side. 

No matter how subtle he was though, Gray still noticed. He shifted himself closer to Natsu in preparation for what was coming. 

“Gray-samaaaa!” Juvia could be heard all across the guild, and most of the members turned to watch. She stopped just beside their table, eyes locked on Natsu, “Can Natsu-san move so that Juvia can sit with her beloved?”

Natsu shot a look to Gray, making sure he was really okay with all of this before starting it. He received only a single, nearly unnoticeable nod, but he got the message. “No, I don’t think I will.” If they didn’t have the guild’s attention before, they certainly did now. All eyes were on their table.”

Juvia didn’t appear to be angry yet, only slightly annoyed. “And why not?” 

Natsu fought to keep his face neutral, a smirk desperate to stretch across his face. “For several reasons, actually. Firstly, I’m both comfortable and lazy. I don’t want to move. Secondly, I’m really, really tired of everyone here just giving you what you want. And thirdly, possibly the most important one, I’d like to keep a stalker away from her target.” 

Not a single sound could be heard in the guild, and for a single moment, everyone thought that Juvia was going to explode. “Then Gray-sama can move elsewhere with Juvia. She can keep him safe from his stalker. Who is it? Juvia will tear them apart.”

“Juvia, you’re an idiot,” Natsu said bluntly. He pinched the bridge of his nose to avoid facepalming, “You follow him around, break into his house, steal his things, steal his clothes, and have made dolls with his hair. Anytime he sees you anywhere near him, he’s visibly uncomfortable, and he goes to massive lengths to keep you away. Hell, he’s even rejected you multiple times. You’re the stalker.” Natsu had stood at some point during the argument, becoming a solid wall between Juvia and Gray.

Jubvia looked completely flabbergasted, and several members of the guild had started shifting away, terrified of the fallout about to happen. “Juvia is not-”

“Yes, you are,” Natsu had no intention of letting her attempt to defend herself. His entire body was shaking with rage, and it took all of his will power not to go ahead and hit her, “Leave, or I’ll make you.”

Of all the people who tried to but in, Natsu never would have expected Macao. “Hag on a minute, I think Gray can speak for himself…”

Natsu shot a glare his way, one he typically reserved for enemies. Well, he’s against what’s best for Gray right now, so he technically is an enemy. Thankfully he didn’t have to say anything. 

“She makes me uncomfortable,” Gray whispered, but in the quiet guildhall, it was the loudest thing in the room. 

It didn’t stay silent for much longer though, and Juvia’s pained screech filled the air instead. “But Gray-sama! Juvia is-” 

Natsu slapped his hand over her mouth, “Shut up. ‘Gray-sama’ this, and ‘Gray-sama’ that. Fuck off. We’re all tired of it, Gray included. Go be a whiny bitch elsewhere, before you send him into a panic attack again.” Juvie tore away from him, running out the back door of the guild, and they could already hear the storm in the distance. 

“That was fucking uncalled for,” Gajeel shouted. He slammed his cup back down onto the table, and he walked over to Natsu, getting in his face. “You could have just-”

“No, I couldn’t have,” Natsu interrupted him too, “She doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.”

Gajeel growled lowly, “So you make her sob in front of the entire guild?”

A soft sigh escaped Natsu’s lips, “Look, I get it. She’s your friend, maybe even like a little sister to you, but you and I both know she’s not really in love with him. It’s an obsession that’s stemed off of hero worship and went too fucking far. Everything thing I said is just the shit I’ve seen myself. Gray’s been spending nights at my house because she can’t get in. There have been daily panic attacks. If making her cry is what I have to do to get it through her thick ficking skull that she has to stop, them I’m damn well going to do it.” He hands were balled into fists, and he was desperately trying to rein in his anger. 

Of all people, I thought you would have understood why.

“Why do you even care? You can Gray hate-” 

A startled laugh from Gray cut off Gajeel’s rebuttal, and when Natsu turned around, he saw thatGray had curled in on himself almost desperately. Fuck. Natsu quickly sat beside him and leaned in so that he’d only have to whisper. “You okay?”

“...Can we leave? Please?” Gray was shaking worse than Natsu had been, the situation clearly getting to him more than he wanted it to. He was bordering on hysteria. 

“Yeah, come on. Let’s go home,” Natsu placed one f his hands on Gray’s shoulder, and he Grabbed one of his hands with the other.He rubbed small circles into Gray’s palm, but it wouldn’t do much to help until they were away from the crowd. 

Gajeel didn’t even stay to argue. He went quietly back to his table and watched from afar as Natsu help Gray to his feet and led him through the back exit of the guild. 

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

Natsu held Gray closely as they sat on the couch. He’d calmed down from the racing panic a few hours ago, but neither one of them was ready to let go yet. “...You didn’t have to go that far…”

“After everything she’s done…” Natsu mumbled quietly, “I honestly feel like I haven’t done enough.”

Gray shuffled so that he could look Natsu in the eyes. “Why are you blaming yourself? None of this is your fault.”

Natsu spluttered for a moment, “wha-No, I’m not- I…” he shakes his head. I could have helped…I could have stopped so much of this…” he cuddles into Gray more, the contact grounding him just as much as it was Gray.

“But I asked you not to, and you listened because I asked.” Gray wrapped his arms around Natsu tightly, then pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “If it’s anyone’s fault it’s mine…”

“It’s not your fault either,” Natsu mumbled as he flicked Gray’s forehead. “It’s hers.” Gray only shrugged, but Natsu knew that was the best he was going to get right now. 

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

The storm that hit Magnolia that night was powerful. Several houses ended up without power, and most of the back roads had flooded terribly. It continued to rain throughout the day, and it was still going when Natsu and Gray finally went back to the guild in the late afternoon. 

This time though, Natsu didn’t let go of Gray’s hand before they entered. Rather than head to their table, they went straight to the bar for food. “Can we get something to take back with us, Mira?” 

“Of course you can. I’ll get your usuals ready.” She was smiling at them guiltily, and Natsu wanted to reach across the bar and hug her. 

Natsu felt a hand tap his shoulder, and when he turned, he was face to face with Erza. “I was told you called Juvia a stalker yesterday.”

“I meant it, too,” Natsu quipped. 

Erza gently pat his head, “You wouldn’t have done it unless it was deserved.” Yet again, the guild went quiet. “Though I was also told about everything else. Is it all true?”

Natsu rolled his eyes, “Everything I said yesterday was true.”

Erza nodded, then pulled him into a tight hug, “It was kind of you to protect your rival…” She let go of him, moving to Gray the second she let go, “And I’m sorry I didn’t realize what was going on.”

Gray didn’t even try to resist the hug, “It’s okay Erza… but uh… You do know we don’t hate each other right?” 

“I can see that now. I’m glad you finally became friends!” She smiled gently at both of them, and 

Natsu’s shoulder shook with the force of the laughter he was holding back. “Erza, we’ve always been friends. We spar because it’s fun and to push each other to be better, not because we hated each other.” He wrapped his arm around Gray’s waist as Erza let her own drop out of shock. 

Gray smiled softly, and everyone gaped. Gray didn’t smile often. “I don’t think ‘friend’ is the right words either.” He wrapped his arm around Natsu and pulled him closer. 

“Yeah, but the specifics have never been any of anyone else’s business, so there was no point in saying anything.” Natsu shrugged, uncaring of anyone else’s opinions.

Erza was beaming at them, “Best friends then? Even better!”

Natsu and Gray were both holding back their laughter, but the second they made the mistake of glancing at each other, they were gone. They were laughing so hard they nearly hit the floor. “Erza, oh my god, Erza, no,” Natsy managed to get out. 

“We’ve been dating since we were twelve!” Gray had actually fallen to the floor laughing, and Natsu was watching him with a fond look in his eye.

The entire guild seemed to realize that it was true at the exact same moment, Natsu’s look of absolute love and care being the cause, and it there was screaming all around. “Hush!” Natsu shouted, and they listened. “Don’t get pissy because you weren’t in the loop. Y’all keep stuff to yourself too.” Natsu dropped to the floor beside Gray and wrapped his arm around Gray’s shoulders again. 

Erza was frozen in place in shock, as well as several of their other guildmates. “...I didn’t even know you were gay.”

“I suspected it,” Lucy chimed in. She was the only one who didn’t seem to be even slightly shocked.”Not their relationship, but that they were both at least a little gay.”

“I’m bi,” Gray supplied.

Natsu didn’t answer for a moment, “I don’t actually know. I’ve only ever been into Gray, so I don’t really care to find out either…” He ignored the guilds c Oh! I wanted to ask Gramps something. Is he here?” 

“He’s not,” Mira answered from behind him. She sat their food on the counter in a bag so that they could take it with them. “I can message him though.”

Natsu smiled and nodded, “Would it be possible to get a restraining order on Juvia since she’s still a Fairy Tail mage?”

Mira’s eyebrows nearly hit her hairline, “I have no idea. I’m sure we can work something out though. Was… Was it really that bad?”

“Yeah… I…” He paused. He and Gray had talked about what could have caused it for a while last night, “I think it may have something more to do with her mental state too. She needs help, but she also needs to stay the hell away from Gray.” Gray pulled him into his lap, and Natsu cuddled in with no hesitation, and the guild couldn’t help but think it looked right. 

“Do you mean that?” Gajeel whispered. He looked torn, like he wanted to yell at Natsu still, but also like he agreed. 

“Yeah, I meant it. Was I right in saying you think of her like your sister?” 

Gajeel nodded, “...I’ll… I see what I can do.”

Gray was still smiling softly as he held onto Natsu. “Thanks, Metal Head.” 

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

Once Makarov had returned to the guild, he made an arrangement for Juvia to spend some time with Crime Sorcière, hoping that Meredy could help her sort out her emotions. It may take a long time, but they all believed it would help.

Natsu and Gray still kept their relationship fairly private, even when they were asked intruding questions from their guildmates, but no one would have it any other way. The two of them were happy, and if what made them happy was going back and forth between rough sparing and gentle, sweet kisses when they thought no one was looking, then who were they to question it?

They were Fairy Tail, a family made of people who chose to be family, and who helped each other out when it was needed, no matter the reason.

It doesn’t matter that they’re all a little weird.

[quillsareswords]

Silence is Sickening

Damian Wayne (angst)

Requested (anonymous)

Prompt List // Masterlist

   Damian Wayne is a great many things.

   Intelligent, witted, cold, well-versed, cultured, strong: all are good words to describe him.

   In painting the grand portrait of Damian Al' Ghoul Wayne, there are many phrases and words to choose from and mold together.

   Weak is not one of them.

   Helpless is not one of them.

   And yet, here he is, subjected to those exact adjectives and a thousand others, among anger and regret.

   Yet again, you and you alone had brought upon him a mixture of emotions he had never thought would blend so seamlessly. Usually, it would be a fruity cocktail of worry and adoration, or well-mixed love and terror.

   Today, however, on this rainy winter night, in this echoing cave with no onlookers but the bats, you poured an ice cold mixture of fury, regret, helplessness and many more emotions down his spine.

   You roared another slew of obscenity, eyes blazing with the hellfire you seemed to be crafted from, your mask laying on the floor a few feet away, long forgotten.

   Your anger was something he didn't see often. It was common for you to be annoyed -- so much so, that it was as part of you as his constant irritation was to him. It was merely uncommon for you to shout, as you preferred silent seething and plotting to anything obvious.

   Where he was a hurricane, you were a sink hole. He was loud and distracting and terrifying, but you were shocking, and unpredictable, and lethal.

   This is why he is left with a glassy layer of helplessness beneath the thick anger coating his surface: you were furious with him, and he knows better than anyone that there is no coming back from it.

   He's spent enough time on other side of this anger -- your side -- to see just how devastating it is. Where he can level cities, you swallow them whole, never to be rebuilt or seen again.

   He fires back his own rage, pelting you with bullets of words that leave no physical mark, but cause just as much pain.

   He is left with anger fueled by concern. You haven't been yourself, and it's effecting your preformence where it counts most. He had decided it was best to let you come to him, as apposed to confronting you about it. That is, until a silver blade came far too close for comfort.

   He is angry with you for refusing to listen to him, to talk to him. He had hoped that after so long of convincing him to do the same, you might take your own advice. So far, you had proved yourself a hypocrite.

   You're beyond shouting now, your voice thundering through the cave like the warcries of the ancestors he knows are the root of your anger.

   This is no playful bicker or mutual fight. You aren't deciding on a restaurant, not fighting on the same team. He knows this, and it is where the regret takes hold of him in an iron fist.

   Because you are in pain, and there is nothing he can do, apparently, but stand in front of you and yell.

   This brings us back to helplessness. Helplessness, because you won't allow him to help you, as he do desperately wishes to, and there is nothing he can do about it. Anger, because you refuse to allow him to help you in the way you have for him too many times to count. Regret, because if he had only noticed sooner, maybe you would be having a much calmer conversation.

   The fire in your eyes flares as you take a daring step forward, muscles tensed and coiled: you are an animal ready to strike. It's there, in your mind. He knows. You're itching to take it up a notch, to throw a punch, to beat the understanding into him that you don't want to talk.

   And he knows he would let you. He questions himself if he would even block any attack you threw, and he isn't able to answer. If it will put you any closer to a calmer state, if it will edge him any closer to understanding, he'd let you shoot him twice.

   He expects it. He waits for it. A punch, a kick, a slap to the face. He waits.

   But it never comes.

   You spin around on your heel, curses and lashing insults dying on your tongue.

   You won't hurt him over this. You wouldn't dare do such a thing, no matter how furious you may be, when he only has your best interest at heart. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean you'll have the same opinion in five minutes.

   You're heading for your bike. You plan to leave before things get any worse, but he isn't about to risk you crashing a motorcycle on icy roads in the middle of the night over a punch to the face.

   He reaches out before you get too far, grabs you by the wrist, and pulls you back to stand before him.

   Your eyes are still blazing hellfire, but they are glassy, and they look fragile. Your hands are still balled into solid fists, but they shake enough for him to feel it. You are still enraged, but aren't willing to fight.

   "Please," he all but begs you, his voice finally low enough not to echo through the Batcave, "tell me what has happened."

   You can hear it in his voice, and you see it in his eyes. He is truly begging you, at a loss for whatelse to do. He is desperate, and he is begging.

   You fall silent. In the silence, you search his eyes for any reason to run. His grip on you is tight and stubborn, but if you choose to run, he will let you. His eyes are open and anticipating, but if you choose not to speak, he will not hold it against you. You can’t bare it.

   There is silence, and then more to follow. Neither of you say anything, nor do either of you move.

   The fire in your eyes becomes two piles of smoldering embers. You are the first to move, pulling away from him slowly. The fight is gone from you, for now, and you are left with a sick feeling in your chest and a hollow in your head. You feel tired, but you doubt you’ll manage much sleep.

   He lets you go. He watches you, though, as you climb onto your bike and slid the helmet over your head. He hopes he isn’t making a mistake. He hopes that you’ll be more careful, no longer blinded by anger.

   When you drive off, he heads for the stairs.

~

   His room is silent and cold and empty. The gray walls seem dreary, and the perfectly made bed looks lonely. He sits on the edge of it anyway.

   He isn’t used to the silence that consumes him. After patrol, you almost always spend the night in his room. He’s used to quiet, tired conversation as you both prepare for bed.

   He isn’t used to his bathroom being so empty. On a nightly routine, you brush your teeth side-by-side. He brushes his teeth alone tonight, and he hates it.

   He isn’t used to the bed being so cold. You always lay down first, on the side furthest from the door, because he takes the time to lay out the clothes he’ll wear the next day. He doesn’t tonight.

   He doesn’t sleep. The room is too quiet without you beside him, your level breathing a comfort he hadn’t known he relied so heavy on until now, when he wasn’t sure you were breathing at all.

   He rolls to his side, facing your side of the bed. The blankets are still tucked into the corners of the mattress.

   He feels sick. He can’t find comfort in any position he lays in. His hands are bored, constantly picking at the sheets or rearranging the blankets. His stomach has decided to pursue gymnastics. The muscles across his chest and in his arms are taught, tense and waiting, but he isn’t sure what for.

   That’s a lie. He is waiting, and he knows exactly what he waits for. His eyes won’t stray far from his phone, plugged in on his bedside table.

   He finally relents, rolling over for the eighth time in an hour, and picks it up.

   It’s 3:48 in the morning when he texts you. He asks if you’ve made it home. He decided that if you don’t answer in five minutes, he’ll call you, and if you don’t pick up, he’s going to put is suit back on and check on you.

  So he lays there, in an empty bed, in a silent room, staring at the left side of his phone screen.

   The muscles in his arms loosen, finally, when your reply comes a few minutes later. “Yes.”

   He releases a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. As yet, the sick feeling doesn’t go away, and his chest still feels tight. He sets his phone back on his nightstand, and rolls over again. Sleep still does not find him.

~

   It’s Saturday morning when is alarm goes off. It doesn’t wake him up, but it shakes him from the barren lands between sleep and reality. He shuts it off, but doesn’t get up.

   The bruises from the night before are sore. His chest is still tight, though not as it was throughout the night. It’s easier to breathe. The sick feeling remains. He’s thankful for the weekend: he doubts he has the mental strength to face any of the annoyances at GA.

   Your name isn’t tucked between any of the notifications on his toolbar, but he opens your messages anyway. He doesn’t know what -- if anything -- he expected, but whatever it is, it isn’t there.

   Reluctance holds him back like mounds of honey. His movements are sluggish and tired as he gets up. He sits at the edge of the bed for a moment, and in his head, he can hear you quietly whining into his sheets, drowsily complaining about him letting all the cold air under the blankets to attack you.

   Morning rituals seem a chore this morning. His tea isn’t as sweet as it should be, and the thought of eating breakfast alone was so unappealing that he carried the plate Alfred handed him straight to the living room.

   “Hey-” Tim’s greeting cuts off as Damian sits down on the couch, plate dropping to the coffee table. His appetite is gone. His older brother is quiet for a moment. “What’s wrong with you?”

   Damian only glares. His eyes flicker to his father, who sits in his leather arm chair closer to the fireplace, testing to see if he was watching. He was.

   With a heavy sigh, he stands up again and takes his plate in his hand. He knows now that all they’ll do is ask questions, and he isn’t in the mood.

   His room is still as silent as he left it, but it isn’t as dark with the sun rising. He sets his plate on the edge of his desk and moves back to the bed. He checks his phone again, and finds nothing from you.

~

   He watches you from across the room. You’re pulling on your gloves, your back to him, but your reflection in the mirror you stood by prevented you from hiding. He aches to talk to you. It’s Sunday evening, and it’s been to long. Too long that you haven’t spoken, too long that you haven’t touched him.

   He stands his ground, though.

   Tim and Bruce are around now, and neither of you will be honest as long as that’s true.

   So he waits. He waits until you’re both on your bikes, and then he waits a little longer. He holds his tongue until you find a place to leave your bikes for the night, and continue on foot. Then he waits until you’re standing on the roof of an apartment building in the middle of your assigned sector.

   He approaches you cautiously. He isn’t looking to spark another fight, or dig himself a deeper grave.

   His voice is quiet when he speaks, standing at your side as you both survey the city. “I am sorry, for last night.”

   Yo don’t answer right away. “I know.”

   And then there is silence. Damian is tired of silence now. He plans to go home and permanently turn the television on to fill the room with noise, weather you’re there or not.

   This silence is hollow. There is no heaviness, but there is no comfort. His chest tightens again, and that sick feeling builds a home within him.

   “I am too,” you tell him, voice hardly gracing a whisper. “You just wanted to help.“

   “I was worried,” he corrected you. Neither of you were looking at the other. “I still am.”

   You nodded a little. “I know.”

   He crosses his arms over his chest, because he knows that he doesn’t restrain them, his hands will wander to yours. “I shouldn’t have yelled.” He paused. “In my defense, you had nearly been stabbed almost an hour before.”

   Your lips twitched, but he wasn’t sure if it was a smile or a frown. “I’m sorry for worrying you so much.”

   He allowed a moment of silence, only to allow apologies to sink in, before he turned to face you. “Will you tell me now?”

   “Tell you what?”

   He bent down and over to catch your eyes, still wandering the city below you. “Tell me what’s been bothering you. Let me help.”

   You met his eyes (or rather, where you knew they were behind the white lenses), but didn’t move to face him completely, so neither did he. You drew in a deep breath. “I’ve just been really stressed recently,” you admitted. “I’m not doing all that well at GA, and my mom’s expectations are getting higher and higher. Add all that to this,” you gestured around you, hinting to the vigilante lifestyle, “and it’s become a bit suffocating.”

   His brows knitted together. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

   You drew your shoulders up in a drawn-out shrug. Your jaw ticked. “It’s a dumb reason to get so stressed, and, I don’t know-”

   “It isn’t,” he cut you off. “You have the right to be stressed because of all the things you do.”

   You looked away from him. A silent disagreement.

   “[Y/N], look at me.” he uncrossed his arms and took your face in both of his hands. You were forced to meet his eyes. “Stop that. Stop comparing yourself to those around you so negatively. You are a human being and you can’t do everything on your own.”

   You felt tears stinging the backs of your eyes, and you did your best to will them away.

   He rubbed his thumbs across your cheek. “This is partnership, with or without the masks, remember? I am here to help you when you need it, and cheer you on when you don’t.” He didn’t have to say what you both already knew, but he did anyway. “Because you’ve done the same for me.”

   Now you were crying. What started as comforting strokes along your cheeks turned into an attempt to wipe away streaks of tears as they fell from beneath your mask, loosening the seal. You closed the tiny gap between the two of you, limply pressing yourself against him before your arms had even come up around him.

   His hands moved fluidly from your face to your back, offering as much comfort as you could take.

   The sick feeling within him melted into relief, the feeling of your warm body pressed against his once again, your chest rising and falling against his with stuttering breaths, and the sound of your -- albeit shuddering -- breathing unwinding the tightness in his chest and the tenseness in his arms.

   Damian Wayne is indeed a great many things.

   He is loving, and kind, and welcoming to few people, but your favorite word to describe him with, over all others, is yours.

[uci-fanfic-requests]

A crossover with League of Legends, please :3

Admin Notes: So I do not play LOL and all I knowof LOL is K/DA, but I did watch a 30 minute video on how to play it…?-Admin Hirahara

Lately, Hirahara had gotten into some game on the computer that was really taking up a lot of his free time. Not that anyone really minded all that much, since it kept him out of their way. Asking him to explain it was a rather difficult task on it’s own, because he would say “you do this, then you do that, and then you do a lot of hitting.” Overall, it wasn’t exactly anything the other escorts could understand, or were into.

At least, that’s what they wanted to say, until one day, Tagami wanted to unplug the computer and move it somewhere else. It was “in an inconvenient place” and he wanted to be able to use it while sitting on the couch. He, Kinoshita, and Kirishima were trying to figure the darn thing out. And they really were doing their best. At least, until Kirishima unplugged a player of some kind from the usb, and Kinoshita immediately mentioned something about the cursed DVD player.

After that, the three of them found themselves before a very strange glowing rock formation with lettering they did not recognize. “…Nope.” Tagami was not dealing with this today. “I want out.” They better not be inside the computer, because he did not have an answer for this problem.

“I don’t seem to understand what is going on,” Kirishima looked around at the ground. It appeared that there was a path of some kind, and there appeared to be some old man in front of a lot of things. “Excuse me, sir, where are we?” The old man, however, said nothing, and before long, the escorts realized that this man was probably not going to help them. Was he mute? Or did he just not have anything to say?

“What do you think all these statues are for?” Kinoshita asked, pointing to one of the glowing rock formations. “It doesn’t seem like something that could take us home, does it?” Unfortunately, after hitting, kicking, stabbing, and picking, the three of them just couldn’t even seem to leave a scratch on the peculiar statue. What on earth was going on?

While the three talked about possibilities, a strange voice could be heard overhead. Minions have spawned. Curious as to what that could possibly mean, the Kirishima decided to be the one to go check it out. It wasn’t long before he found very small and strange looking creatures… fighting each other? There were blue ones that matched the glow of the strange runes where he came from, and they were attacking red similar looking creatures.

“Should I do something about this?” Kirishima wondered out loud. Before he could decide for himself, though, one of the red creatures hit him with what was probably a ball of fire, and it smite enough to blow the escort back. “Wha?” Well now he knew that they were enemies. The blue ones didn’t seem to be attack him in the same way, so he easily knew what it was he had to do. It was time to deliver punishment upon these creatures.

By the time Tagami and Kinoshita were done with waiting (Kinoshita was worried, Tagami was not) and headed over for Kirishima, they were watching him try to pick up a lot of coins that were on the ground. “I don’t know, they just exploded into these,” was all Kirishima could really say on the matter.

What followed was a continued strange stream of these small creatures, and the escorts felt like they really didn’t have much of a choice other than to try attacking the red colored ones. After all, neither side of creatures were talking to the escorts, nor were they being helpful at all in telling them how to leave this strange place. It wasn’t until they met with their first person (who also would not talk to them) that Tagami suddenly seemed to know what was going on.

“This is that game Hirahara was playing,” he realized. “We really are in the computer.”

“Oh dear,” Kinoshita huffed. “I don’t suppose this person is friendly, do you?” As if to answer his question, the strange silver haired archer fired an arrow at the three. She was definitely not on their side. The three debated if they should fight her, or just ignore her. Actually, seeing as she was a computer program, she seemed to be coded to do the exact same action over and over again, which made avoiding her… a bit easy. If they ran away, she would just run after them, but would start firing at a certain distance.

“This will get us nowhere,” Kirishima sighed. It was then that the three passed one of their blue statues. As the woman who was chasing them approached, the statue seemed to awaken on it’s own and attack the woman, taking her out. “Oh, well, that works,” Kirishima blinked. None of the three were expecting that. But she was a computer program after all, the couldn’t feel too sorry for her.

“I wonder if there is a way to win the game,” Kinoshita asked out loud. “Maybe if we win, we can go home.” Tagami had to really wrack his brain on how Hirahara had said they win the game. There’s an enemy and you take them out! And then you hit their big stone and bam! Game over! Tagami had to make a mental note to hit Hirahara later for his poor and simplistic explanations.

After some discussion, the escorts supposed they had this figured out. There were these little creatures at war, for some reason unknown, and they were different colors. It seemed pretty clear they were trying to get into each other’s area. From Hirahara’s information, the point of the game was to destroy some strange glowing rock from the enemy team. It sounded simple enough. The three escorts did their best to avoid further confrontation with the opposing teams creatures, as well as people who didn’t seem to want to talk, but rather want to fight.

It wasn’t long before the dirt path became stone again, and the three found themselves dodging strange beams from statues, along with a singular rock formation that was definitely glowing. Since Tagami had the pickax, it was his job to break the rock formation. Kirishima and Kinoshita did their best to block the strange statue beams, and when that proved ineffective, they just took the statues out. When they crumbled, for some reason, the rubble disappeared.

“Tagami, how’s that rock coming?” Kinoshita asked, having sustained multiple injuries from fighting. Kirishima didn’t seem to be in much better shape. The good news was, it didn’t seem like anything else was going to attack them, and the strange blue creatures also managed to march their way on over to help.

“It’s. Coming.” Tagami grunted, with each swing of his pickax. Why was this rock so hard? Why wasn’t one swing breaking it? But at long last, the whole thing exploded in magnificent smoke, creating a dark dust around the three. They were caught coughing once they breathed it in.

However, when Kirishima opened his eyes to look around, the smoke was coming from the cursed DVD player, which apparently had blown itself up. And, the good news was, the three found themselves back in the manor, trying to move a computer. While they could discuss what had just happened, and continue to try to solve their computer rearrangement issue, instead, Tagami abandoned the effort entirely, going to hunt down Hirahara and tell him to delete the game from the computer. I don’t want that to happen again, was the explanation he gave.

[platinumsupa]

Agent Akko meets gay Diana during a ball infiltration mission

(Oh my, I got out of hand with this prompt…Sure, your call was that it was Gay Diana, but unfortunately anon…they’re both very very gay in this, I’m afraid… 1300 words…)

Akko really ought to get better at wearing heels one ofthese days.

She only wore such pinchy, uncomfortable shoes because shehad to blend in. After all, the guests littered about the exquisite ballroomwere all wealthy aristocrats and nobles. They were dressed in finely tailoredsuits and gorgeous ballgowns, and therefore, so must she.

Akko had been given an expensive looking red dress that felljust above her knees to show plenty of her leg. It left a tempting amount ofcollar bone exposed, and hugged the curve of her hips in a pleasing way.

She was here to mingle with guests, dance with people, havea few drinks. And while she was here in the ballroom, Amanda and the rest oftheir team were going to rob them blind.

Not their money, of course. Theirsuperiors told them that one or more of these rich elites had some specialpossessions they weren’t quite supposed to have, as far as national securitywas concerned. Things illicitly gotten under the table. They had to put a stop to it before local authorities got involved and it became an international incident. 

There was only one complication her intel had not preparedher for; the sheltered blonde heiress who was hosting this.

This Diana girl hadn’t even meant to draw attention to herself,but the moment she descended the stairs, all eyes were on her, including Akko’sown. Her dress was stunning, with a daring slit to show off her leg, and exquisitelymatching satin gloves.

Akko thought she looked pretty in the briefing, but inperson…she had to mentally slap herself to remember the fact that she was actuallysupposed to be doing a job. Especially when her earpiece buzzed to let her knowAmanda had run into a setback on the south side of the estate.

No, Akko was not going to mess up a mission for the sake ofa pretty face. Again.

While Amanda took care of business, Akko played around atthe buffet tables. All the bigwigs were just too happy to tell her about theirjobs if she childishly oohed and awed at their boasts. From the intel she wasgathering, it seemed likely the Blackwell family might be in on this, and theHanbridges at the very least complicit.

“Pardon me.” A gentle voice cut in.

Akko was not so green as to jump at the words, but she cutit close.

Diana Cavendish cornered her at the table. She was standingdemurely, but she was looking right at Akko with an intensity that genuinely surprisedher. And when she was up close, Akko could easily smell that pleasant hint of aflowery fragrance, and delectable the shine of her lip gloss.

She had been told not to interact with the host directly,firstly because Diana was not likely to know anything useful, and secondly…

“I can’t seem to recall you from our guest list. How do youdo, this evening?”

Shoot, she almost forgot what her cover story was.

“Oh, uh…I’m the Callistis family’s plus-one.” Akko lied.

“Really?” Diana asked, intrigued. Akko couldn’t help butpuff out her chest a little. Flirting was not in the job description, but hey, unlistedbenefits, right?

“Yep! I went to Luna Nova Private School, same as most ofthem.” She bragged. “Even made the top 5% of Ursula’s class, if you can believe it.”

“That is impressive.It’s a rather tough school to get into, isn’t it?”

Akko waved her hand, casually but completely intentionallyshowing off the class ring provided for her by her employers. “Yeah, but…youknow. I might not look it, but I’m pretty good at that sorta stuff. My dream isto be the best in the country one day!”

“How interesting.” Diana smiled. “Because I was the top student of Professor Ursula’sclass, and I can safely say I’ve never seen you there before.”

This time, Akko didfreeze.

“…wait, but… but you went to Luna Nova…?”

“Not officially, of course.” Diana said, the smile neverleaving her face. “My aunt would never have approved, if it was on record. ButI had a desire to learn, and I had connections. As do you, as it would seem.”

But that couldn’t be. Briefing said the heiress had beenhomeschooled for the past few years. Not to mention, the profiles Akko wasprovided never even came close tosuggesting someone like Diana could attend a private school as prestigious as…

“I would think you of all people would understand thebenefit of being seen as a naïve, airheaded girl. Being below suspicious makesa number of things much easier, doesn’t it?”

Akko swallowed hard. “I…I don’t know what you mean, Diana. Imean, if you don’t believe I went to LunaNova, I can-“

“Oh, I’m sure you can recite all kinds of trivia and schedulesand such, but I’m curious if you can even tell me what color the carpet in theentryway is. Can you?”

“…Blue?”

Diana leaned in, narrowing her eyes dangerously. “What areyou really here for? Are you investigatingmy aunt as well? Or are you chasing after baseless rumors regarding my mother’sdealings in life?”

As well? What did that-? Who was she kidding, it didn’t matter.Akko was rapidly losing control ofthe situation, and that was not goingto make anyone happy.

“Whoa, hey now!” Akko crossed her arms haughtily. “I didn’tknow about any of that stuff, I just wanted to crash this party because itseemed fun! Plus, you got good snacks at this Manor.”

Just to prove her point, she popped another shrimp into hermouth. Diana was neither impressed, nor amused.

“Do you truly expect me to believe that now?”

Akko scoffed, smirking at Diana in a way that just dared herto expose her. “What do you gonna do? Kick me out? I mean you could call security on me in front ofall these people, but that’d be super embarrassing for us both.”

“That’s quite the bluff. Are you certain you’re prepared tomake it?” Diana’s voice was low, and the edges of it were laced with confidenceand lure. That scrutinizing look in the blue of her eyes had only gotten moreintense, and the fact that she was so close…

It had been awfully long since Akko really met anyone, hadn’tit…?

Her earpiece buzzed to life, as if things weren’t alreadybad enough. She didn’t need to press it to hear the encrypted message. “Yo, Akko.” Amanda said. “Made in the building, but I’m pinned down. You’regonna have to hang tight for a few more minutes until it’s clear for me to movehere!”

Akko liked to think her next move was purely out of her instinctsas an agent, and not out of the fact that she definitely had a type.

“Okay, Diana.” Akko backed off. “You win, I’ll leave.”

Diana blinked. “Just…likethat? No arguments, or fighting?”

“Well…this is aparty, right? Maybe…” Akko slyly held out her hand. “A dance?”

“E-excuse me?”

“I wanna share a little dance with you.” Akko repeatedherself with a growing grin. “You got a band playing a pretty song, you have a hugeballroom. Isn’t this what you do at parties like this? Find a nice partner andhave a slow dance together…?”

The mental image made Diana unintentionally chew on herlower lip. She quickly tried to shake it from her head. By that point, hercheeks were all but glowing.

“I…I don’t…why-?”

“I mean, if I’m gonna go, might as well have something worthremembering, right? What’s the harm in letting me have one little dance with a beautifulgirl? Besides…”

Akko leaned in, until she could whisper directly into Diana’sear.

“You’re definitely more than what I thought you were. Maybe I’m…curious.”

She couldn’t help but purr the final word, and she heardDiana inhale sharply. As Akko slowly pulled back, the heiress swallowed hard.

“Y-you…” Diana found a bit more of her resolve. “…You realizeyou’re putting yourself awfully close to someone who could expose youroperation, whatever it is. Are you okay with that?”

“Are you?” Akko challenged, in a low voice. “After all…maybeI’m investigating you now.”

She held out her hand once more. Diana’s eyes flashedbetween her palm, and the face of the person offering it. And slowly, she tookit. There was a spark in her eyes, clearly intending to ask her own questionsto the agent. Which suited both of them just fine.

This was totally for the good of the mission, Akko toldherself. She happily allowed herself to be led to the dance floor.

[fandomblues]

Project Best Friend [Billy Hargrove]

Fandom ; Stranger Things

Pairings ; Billy Hargrove x Harrington!Reader

Summary ; The thought of hating Billy Hargrove had been ingrained into your mind by your brother, but after being forced to spend time with the boy you were supposedly supposed to dislike, it became apparent you never really disliked him at all.

Warning(s) ; swearing

Word Count ; 2.9k+

Author’s Note ; i know i’ve been gone forever and this crappy piece of writing probably doesn’t make up for it and i’m really sorry. i’ve been having such writer’s block for the stuff on this blog and i haven’t had much inspiration to write anything especially with stranger things having been gone for so long. i’m a lot more active on my sideblog @cloudfiveclub these days if you guys wanna chat about 5sos/cnco or just in general really xx 

masterlist

this is for @moonstruckhargrove ‘s 1k writing challenge! sorry for such a late submission love 😫

Well, fuck me.

Your eyes shifted from your teacher to the back of a mullet which sat a few desks away from you. You gritted your teeth, eyebrows automatically pulling together at the mention of the boy’s name. As if in slow motion, Billy Hargrove twisted around in his seat, throwing you a smug smile. His tongue slithered out to wet his bottom lip, and his left eye fell shut in a flirtatious wink. 

Your breath hitched in your throat when he did that, and your eyes widened on cue as you glared back at him menacingly. When he caught sight of your reaction, Billy pulled his lips together in a sarcastic pout and frowned; mocking your obvious displeasure at having been paired with him for the project. 

You let out a heavy breath as you gripped the sides of your desk angrily. You felt like you could almost break the wooden table in half in your current state. 

“Miss Harrington? Is it quite alright with you?” your teacher, Mrs Blanchard questioned. She gazed at you over her spectacles, obviously concerned at your reaction. 

Every one of your classmates immediately turned around to face you, and all 26 pairs of eyes were on you. You glanced around the classroom, noting the obvious eagerness in everyone’s eyes as they awaited your answer. 

It wasn’t a secret at Hawkins High that Billy and your brother were archenemies. You had wanted to steer clear of Steve’s drama at the beginning, but your sibling had very selfishly dragged you into his petty feud with the Californian boy, and that was the end of your regular life. And, of course, as the baby sister of Steve Harrington, there was the expectation that you were supposed to hate Billy just like him. You’d never had any personal run-ins with Billy, and he seemed like an unpleasant person on the surface, seeing as how that was the only side you had ever seen of him whenever he came to provoke your brother. 

Your eyes swept across the room nervously once more, before you made eye contact with Billy once again. He raised his eyebrows at you, clearly giving you a “I dare you to say no” look. You shrunk back in your seat when he did that, and kicked yourself mentally for even feeling slightly threatened by him. 

Still, your mouth fell open, and you found yourself telling Mrs Blanchard that everything was fine. 

-

“What?!”

Steve’s face was mere inches away from yours, and his loud protest had startled you dearly. You jumped at the sudden loudness of his voice, grumbling silently as you folded your arms across your chest. 

“It wasn’t my decision...,” you protested weakly, a hint of whine evident in your voice. Steve stared at you with eyes as large as saucers, scoffing in disbelief. He shook his head profusely, slamming his locker shut, which caught the attention of a few students around the both of you. His eyes swept across the hallway, throwing everyone an annoyed look, and immediately everyone turned away from the two of you to mind their own business. 

“Y/N, I am not putting you alone with that douchebag,” he stated simply, lowering his voice so no one else could hear the both of you. You gritted your teeth as you looked up at your brother. 

“Steve, I don’t have a choice! Mrs Blanchard won’t let me change partners this far into the day!” you whisper-shouted back. 

“You know how Billy is, he’s going to take liberties with you and there is no way in hell I’m-”

“-Steve, it’s only for like two weeks. I promise I’ll be careful and it’s going to be over really fast. I-”

“What are you two talking about?”

Billy interjected your conversation with Steve, coming up behind you like a ninja and immediately slinging his arm around your shoulders. Neither you nor Steve had even noticed him; who knew how long he had even been listening in on your discussion. 

Your brother breathed out heavily as he expressed his annoyance at Billy’s actions wordlessly. He reached out, yanking you forward and away from the denim-clad boy roughly as he attempted to put distance between the both of you. You let out a yelp when he did so, but failed to make any sort of protest. 

“Nothing that concerns you,” Steve said between clenched teeth, staring the other boy down. Billy snorted, but failed to make any comeback. 

“Well, I’m just here to collect your sister because if you haven’t already heard, Harrington, we have a project to work on together that is thirty percent of our final grade. So if you would very kindly-”

“Yeah, like I’m going to just hand her over and leave her alone with someone like you, Hargrove,” Steve interrupted meanly. 

Billy’s eyes widened as if on cue, and he took an intimidating step forward, hands balling into fists in anger. 

“Someone like me? What’s that supposed to mean, Harrington?” he questioned lowly. You could almost hear the growl in his voice, and before things could escalate, you hopped out of Steve’s grasp anxiously. You threw him a warning glare and wedged yourself between the both of them to stop any fists from flying, laughing nervously. 

“Alright, that’s enough. I’ll see you at home, Steve,” you rushed out, grabbing Billy’s arm and pulling him away from your sibling. You rushed your partner out the building before Steve could start complaining about anything.

-

“Ooh, aren’t you eager to get me alone?” Billy teased as you slowed to a stop in front of his car that was parked in the usual spot. The parking lot had been mostly cleared by this time, so Billy and you were the only two people there at the moment. 

You huffed, letting his arm go and rolling your eyes. 

“Don’t keep deluding yourself, Hargrove. I just hate my brother’s over-protectiveness as much as you do,” you replied, stepping away from him and making your way over to the passenger side. 

You saw him roll his eyes out of the corner of yours, but he unlocked his car anyway and climbed into the driver’s side. You pulled the passenger door and got in with him, and an almost awkward silence settled between the both of you. 

You had never been alone with Billy at all, in fact, you barely knew him. The only conversations you had ever had with him were never the good ones; you only ever talked to him to stand up for your brother. But now, you had to do a whole school assignment with him then would eventually contribute to the decision of whether you could advance to senior year or not.

Billy broke the silence first by breathing out deeply. 

“So where we heading?” he asked as he started up his car, revving up the engine. 

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Uh, the library, I guess. We can source for information there first,” you half-suggested. 

Billy then frowned, turning to face you. “Wait, you were serious about working on the project?” 

Your jaw dropped when he said that. You scoffed in disbelief, shaking your head. But honestly, why were you even surprised? This was Billy Hargrove you were working with. If anything, you should be surprised he even bothered to come and look for you to at least suggest getting to work.

Yeah right, Y/N, you know he really just wants to get in your pants. 

You pushed that last thought out of your head, and threw him a “duh” look anyway. 

“Yes, Billy, you said it yourself that it carries thirty percent of our final grade so it’s important. And two weeks can actually go by really fast so we shouldn’t waste anytime,” you pointed out, placing emphasis on his name. 

He cocked an eyebrow but uncharacteristically kept his mouth shut, simply speeding off towards the library. 

-

“You know, you actually look like an aardvark when you’re upside down.”

You gritted your teeth in annoyance at Billy’s dumb comment, turning around to glare at your partner. He laid upside down on his bed, feet leaning up against the wall and head dangling off the edge as he stared at you, head tilted slightly in amusement. 

God, you would never admit it to yourself but Billy was super attractive. Especially with him looking at you like that. But still, just because he was being cute you couldn’t let him slack. 

“Can you just get down here and help me out?” you demanded, facing your work again as you extended the line of your timeline. Your hand twitched, and the ruler shifted slightly, causing you to mess up the perfect line you had been attempting to draw. 

You two had been tasked with coming up with an essay and clear explanation on the cause of The Great Depression and the first few days were spent at the library, collecting information and borrowing necessary materials. But then the both of you got into a whole series of dumb arguments every half an hour. You had caused such a ruckus the librarian banned you from the library after a string of repeated warnings. 

So that paved the way to the argument on whether the two of you should work on the project at your house or Billy’s. Both of you didn’t want to go to each other’s place and neither of you were very willing to compromise, but after almost a whole hour of tantrums, you decided to toss in the towel and agreed to head to his place. 

So that’s where you were at the moment. And unfortunately for you, Billy was near impossible to work with. He got distracted every ten seconds and you had no idea how you were going to get through working with him for another twelve days. The only good side you could see to this arrangement was that he was nice to look at, which would help your brain relax after thinking about such a depressive event for such a long time. 

“Oh, so bossy,” Billy joked as he rolled over, sliding down onto the floor to sit next to you. He leaned over your shoulder as he watched you correct your line, breathing heavily against your hair annoyingly on purpose. He seemed to love getting under your skin.

You jerked your shoulder to push him away, but it only threw him off for a moment before he went back to irritating you. 

“Look, Billy, why don’t you make yourself useful?” You said in a huff, reaching across the paper to grab a borrowed book to toss it at him. “Pick out the important keywords. Important years or dates. Draft up the first version of our essay. Whatever, I don’t know.” 

You heard him sigh heavily behind you, followed by the flipping of several pages and the scratching of pencil lead against paper. You sighed quietly in relief at the prospect of finally having gotten Billy to contribute to your work. Both of you worked in silence for a while, before Billy tapped you on your shoulder to get your attention. 

You turned to face him, only to be greeted by him shoving the book in your face. You blinked in surprise, withdrawing back to get a clearer look at what he was trying to show you. Scribbled on the bottom right corner of the borrowed library book, was a tiny doodle of you. Your head been drawn large and wide, disproportionate to your cartoon body. Billy had drawn your eyes large and bug-like, and had over-exaggerated your curls. The only way you could identify that it was even a drawing of you was the distinctive and very accurately drawn angry frown that was plastered on your face, the same frown that you so often threw Billy. 

You gasped all too loudly, snatching the book from Billy hurriedly as he snorted. “Billy! This is public property!” You squeaked. You thought you would’ve been steaming mad, but for some odd reason, you couldn’t help the dumb smiled that crawled onto your face. The drawing was so fucking pathetic but hilarious. 

Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. 

You coughed when you realised you had let a grin slip through, and you re-wore your annoyed look, tossing a glare at Billy. But he had seen your smile; he had gotten you to stop being so pissy and serious about everything. You huffed, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you stared him down. He had that stupid smile on his charming face. 

“Ha! So you do know how to smile, Harrington. For a second I thought you were only engineered to be mad all the time,” he teased. This time, you let the giggle escape, and you doubled over, clenching your stomach as you laughed alongside with Billy. 

-

Fast forward two weeks, you were starting to realise you liked Billy a little too much. 

But in your defence, he was charming as hell. You did try finding excuses to dislike him at least a little, but each time nothing came up and instead, your heart gave you reason to find ways to spend more time with him, much to Steve’s dismay especially. Sure, you guys had that project to work on together, but you found yourself more and more unwilling to actually leave him after you guys were done for the day. You started looking forward to school just because you knew you would see him.

And really, after actually bothering to get to know him and spend a few days with him, you realised he was pretty nice company to have around. He wasn’t as rowdy or asshole-like as people said he was. He was actually nice to you. Sure, he liked annoying you and messing with you, but you knew it was all in good fun. 

Plus, once you started being less serious, you strangely noticed, Billy was more willing to put in effort into the project. And you guys actually made a pretty decent team, and you were actually proud of how you stuff turned out. So came the deadline and you turned your work in, hoping that Mrs Blanchard would give you guys a good grade. The lesson went by ordinarily, but Billy caught you on the way out. 

“Hey, Harrington. Good job on that project,” he congratulated, slinging his arm carelessly over your shoulders. You laughed, steering him to the side and down the hallway so as not to block the other students who were exiting the class. You noted the strange looks people tossed you; confused as to how Steve Harrington’s sister was getting along so well with Billy Hargrove himself. 

“Don’t get your hopes up so high. I think we did a good job, but Mrs Blanchard may think differently,” you pointed out as the both of you made your way to your locker. He waved your concerns off, plastering a smug smile on his face. 

“I think we’ll do amazingly. We make a great team, don’t you think?” he asked. You raised your eyebrows, pink tinting your cheeks at his question and you nodded along hesitantly. “So my place as usual?”

You stopped abruptly in the middle of the corridor, turning to face him in confusion. “But we’re done with the project,” you told him, although your tone made it come out sounding more like a question.

“So?” he snorted as he resumed walking, pulling you along with him. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Friends. The word seemed to roll so nicely and naturally off his tongue. He seemed so comfortable saying it, and it sort of hit you at that moment that it seemed that Billy actually really, genuinely liked hanging around you. Not like how he pretended with Tommy and Carol and a few others. He had confessed this to you when you both were taking a break from working a few days ago. 

But as much as it made you feel special, you still couldn’t help the disappointment. But why the hell were you even disappointed? Still, you threw Billy a grin, nodding in agreement. 

“Of course we are.” 

The both of you stopped at your locker and he leaned against the one next to yours. You were very fully aware of how his eyes were on you the whole time you were getting your stuff, but you chose to ignore it. Billy did a lot of stuff you could never really explain, so you just left it. 

“You know, Max is actually staying back for a few today,” Billy suddenly said. You quirked an eyebrow when he said that as you shelved a textbook in your locker. 

“So do you want to just drive around for a while?” he continued, drumming his fingers against the locker door next to yours, softly creating a clanging sound. You narrowed your eyes at him. There was a suspicious feeling you couldn’t shake, but you had no idea what it was. But you shrugged anyway, agreeing to his suggestion. 

“Why not?” You said, before looking around playfully. “Just make sure Steve doesn’t see us,” you teased. Billy couldn’t resist rolling his eyes at the mention of your brother. You were well aware he still hated him to the core although he considered the both of you as friends. 

“Fuck him,” Billy said crudely, earning a warning but playful glare from you. He smirked at you and brought his face a little closer to yours. “Should I fuck you too?”

Classic Billy. You knew he was joking, but you still blushed. “Ha Ha, very funny,” you said sarcastically. “I hate you.” 

You closed your locker and slung your bag on, only for Billy to swoop in and place his arm round your shoulder again. 

“Yeah, tell me again,” he joked, bringing you closer to him as the two of you stumbled down the hallway. “You love me,” he added on, almost like an afterthought.  

You rolled your eyes when he said that but laughed anyway. 

“Keep telling yourself that, Hargrove.” 

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