#[[do I like you or do I just hate being alone?]] >> ray x dodge

[jerzwriter]

First Date

Based on this ask from @lexicook74-blog, Trystan takes Carolina out on an official first date now that they are out in the open. This is pure, unadulterated fluff with a twist of sarcasm that makes them... them. I hope you enjoy it! 💗

Book: Crimes of Passion (Post Book 2) Pairing: M!Trystan Thorne x F!MC (Carolina Rose) Category: Fluff (with a twist of NY) Words: 2,495 A/N: @choicesoctober - Celebration - because an official first date for these two is something to celebrate! Also, @choicesprompts Flufftober - First Date

It was difficult to tell who was most excited to be back. Carolina had always known she was a New Yorker through and through, but her time in Drakovia had solidified that commitment. Now, she even loved the things she hated about her hometown. Although, she was pretty confident her romanticization of smelly trash bins and subway rats had just about run its course. For Trystan, it felt like a dream he never dared to believe had come true. No longer in exile, no longer forced to live a life his birth alone decreed. For the first time in his life, he knew freedom, and it couldn’t be any sweeter.  

But their return to the Big Apple wasn’t all fun and games. Mafalda wasn’t exaggerating about the amount of work awaiting them back at the agency. But they were eager to get back to it, working long days that often drifted into the night, which is where they were now.

The clock struck eight, and the sun’s few remaining rays washed the office in a soft, amber glow. Trystan placed another cup of coffee in front of Carolina, and she rewarded him with a tender smile before quickly returning to her work. He picked up a folder to do the same. But, when his cup of java did nothing to help his exhaustion, he leaned back for a quick break, studying his favorite subject as he did... his precious Carolina.

Love was an amazing thing. There she was with her hair in a messy bun, raccoon-like dark circles under her eyes, and while a coffee-stained shirt was the norm for Detective Rose, today, it was paired with a little spaghetti sauce from dinner. Still, as Trystan took her in, he was sure he had never seen anything more beautiful. Carolina glanced up and caught him staring. If she weren't so tired, she would have something witty to say, but sticking her tongue out at him would need to suffice. Pleased that she was being more immature than him for once, Trystan let out a chuckle. This was worthy of marking on the calendar, but so was something else on his mind.

“Today is Thursday, is it not?” He asked.

Carolina thought so but looked at her phone for good measure.

“Thursday it is,” she smiled. “The days seem to be melting into one another, don’t they?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We need to do something about that.”

“What do you suggest?” she asked as she closed her notebook. “Quitting the agency?”

“Of course not! But even Mafalda said we’ve been overdoing it since we returned. So I declare this weekend a work-free zone. Besides, we have plans.”

“We do?” She asked with a scrunched nose. 

“We do now,” he smiled. “We have never been on a proper date, and it's time we change that.”

“Trystan,” she rolled her eyes. “We’ve gone out plenty of times.”

“Gone out? Yes. But a proper date? No.”

“What do you call all the times we’ve gone out to eat?"

“Obtaining sustenance.”

“And when we went to the Yankee Game?”

“The game we attended with Luke and Ruby? Where I had to whisk you away to a private area just to kiss you?”

“Only for the kiss cam to snag us,” she laughed.

“Exactly! Had it been an official date, and the kiss cam had caught us... I would have given them quite a show.”

“You make a point,” she concurred.

“I make lots of them, Carolina,” he smirked. “If only you paid more attention.”

He quickly dodged the rubber band ball she threw his way.

“Maybe we should go to another Yankee game,” she laughed. “Clearly, my pitching isn’t what it should be.”

“I’m sure sure more Yankee games in our future,” he smiled. “But this time, allow me to spoil you... I can’t think of anyone more deserving.”

“Babe... I’m a girl from the Bronx; a Yankee game is spoiling me.”

“Understood, but can I please spoil you Drakovian royalty style for just one night.”

Carolina tapped her chin. “Drakovian royalty style. Hmmm. I suppose I'm willing as long as it doesn’t involve poisoning or knife fights.”

“I promise to leave those parts out,” he laughed. “Though a little wrestling at the end might be in order.”

“I wouldn’t object to that,” she laughed.

“Then that settles it! Saturday night... we have a date.”

~~~~

Trystan didn’t give away any details, only telling Carolina to wear something fancy and to be ready at six. Normally calm and collected, finding the perfect outfit was sending Carolina into a tizzy. Fortunately, Ruby was available for shopping and to help keep her friend grounded.

“You’re already his girlfriend,” Ruby laughed as her friend tried on her umpteenth dress. “You don’t need to put this much pressure on yourself.”

Carolina’s head popped over the dressing room door. “Yes, I do. It’s our first official date, and I want it to be... perfect. Besides, I’ve never gone out with anyone routinely followed by the paparazzi. If I end up on Page Six, I want to be killing it!”

“Killing it might be the wrong choice of words, considering it’s you two we’re talking about. And I’m sure you’ll look more spectacular than any of those snobby socialites on Page Six. Carolina... take a deep breath and just enjoy this.”

Across town, Trystan wasn’t faring much better. Luke was unwillingly getting play-by-play details as Trystan finalized plans.  

“So what do you think?” he finally asked. 

“What do I think?” Luke scowled. “I think this is the most bourgeoisie itinerary I’ve ever heard of.”

“Is it wrong for me to spoil the woman I love occasionally?”

“I suppose not,” Luke resigned with a sigh. “As long as you don’t do it too often. Otherwise, I may have to reconsider being seen with you in public. You’re already bad for my rep.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve heard that, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.” Trystan laughed. “But as long as Carolina is happy to be seen with me, that’s all I need.”

Luke shook his head mockingly. “You know, I would have never imagined you as a love-sick puppy when we met.”

“Funny, I never saw you that way either... then you fell for Ruby. Should we discuss that?”

Luke cleared his throat and returned his eyes to his laptop. “Why would we discuss that when I have to help you plan your date.”

“Sneaky way out... but at least I’ve got you where I want you,” Trystan winked. “Now, put your work away. You can come to help me select Carolina’s flowers.”

“Flowers?” Luke groaned.

“Yes. And after my date, I should probably help you plan a date for Ruby. Obviously, you need my help.”

“I may just take you up on that,” Luke grinned.

~~~~~

Saturday rolled around quickly, and Tommy did a double take when a tuxedo bedecked Trystan stepped out of a limousine in front of his bar, turning all heads his way. Even in a city used to sophistication and excess, Trystan had a way of commanding everyone’s attention.

Carolina’s uncle shook his head with a grin as Trystan approached the bar, a dazzling bouquet of cream-colored roses in his arms.

“You know, my niece likes the simpler things in life,” he teased.

“Obviously!” Trystan scoffed. “She’s in love with me, after all.”

“You might be many things, Trystan, but I’m confident simple isn’t one of them.”

“You can say that again,” Carolina replied from the top of the stairs.

Trystan took one look at her, and his jaw went slack, the flowers in his hand falling to his side. Carolina’s smile grew exponentially as she descended the steps in a stunning, barely there champagne lace slip dress that hugged her every curve. Flirtatiously draping the fringe shawl the saleswoman swore would complete her look over her shoulder, she sauntered to Trystan with a wink.

“So, you like then?”

 “Like...” he gasped, unable to come up with any words.

“Are you sure it’s not too much? I don’t really go on fancy-ass dates like this often.”

“Carolina... you are perfection...” he marveled. “Too much? Too much for whom? I assure you, I can more than handle this.”

“All right, you two!” Tommy barked. “I know you’re consenting adults, but can you please save that part of your date until you’re not standing in front of me in my bar!”

“Of course, Tio,” Carolina laughed, her eyes lighting up when Trystan handed her the bouquet. “What are these for?”

“They’re roses for the most beautiful Rose of all.”

A blush rose to her cheeks as her eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Do these lines work on most people?”

“I got you, didn’t I?” he smiled, then offered her his arm. “Now, let’s go, your chariot awaits.”

~~~~~

 A half-hour later, they were at Per Se, sitting at one of the finest tables in the house with a million-dollar view of Central Park West. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t opt for a private dining room,” Trystan said, pulling back Carolina’s chair. “But now that I can finally show you off, I want to ensure everyone can see us.”

“I don’t know,” she snickered. “I usually demand the private dining areas when on a date. All of the finest pizza joints in town have them. Of course, they’re usually reserved for kid's birthday parties, but still....”

“Yes, well, I’ll see if I can arrange for a balloon sculpture later on.”

“That would be perfect! Just skip the clowns!” she beamed as she perused the menu. “Now, tell me, do I have to eat fish eggs or snails here?”  

“Not unless you want to.”

“Yeah, hard pass.”

“Don’t knock it, Carolina. You’ll never know if you’ll like something unless you try it.”

“Hey, don’t act like I never leave my comfort zone. I did allow myself to fall for a cocky, exiled would-be-king, after all.”

“And how did that work out for you?” he asked smugly as the waiter approached.   

Carolina greeted the server with a wide grin, then shot Trystan a look. “I suppose I could start with the escargot... I just hope I don’t live to regret it.”

After dinner, the couple briefly strolled around Central Park, his arm slung casually around her shoulder. “So, you didn’t hate the snails,” he teased.

“I suppose if I were starving to death, and that was my only option, I wouldn’t turn them down,” she chuckled. “Now, the lobster tails, on the other hand...I’d never say no to them. But why did you tell me not to order dessert? And please... don’t be cheesy and tell me you’re dessert.”

“You underestimate me,” he laughed. “Dessert will be cheesy, but it’s not me... at least not yet. But first, we have to go to the heliport.”

“The Heliport? Why? Where are we going?”

“Downtown,” he answered with nonchalance.

“Downtown? You are aware the limo could take us there.”

“Of course,” he grinned. “But the traffic is woeful. Besides, I know you know this city like the palm of your hand, but you’ve never seen it this way. It’s breathtaking, and while I’ve seen it from the sky before, I simply have to experience it with you.”

“And why is that?”

He smiled like an impish schoolboy and merely told her she’d see, but once they were in the air, she understood.

“Oh my God, look at it!” she gushed.

Her city looked quite different from ten thousand feet above. Each one of its millions of lights twinkled like little stars that looked close enough to touch. She couldn’t turn her head away. But the only view Trystan was interested in was her; he was confident it was the most beautiful of all. He gently took her hand and held it for the remainder of the flight, peppering her hair with little kisses for good measure. Carolina closed her eyes only once, just long enough to take a deep breath and remind herself that this wasn’t a dream.

Back on solid ground, she still felt like she was walking on air. Enthusiastic as a child, she practically skipped through Greenwich Village, never letting go of her prince charming’s hand. 

“And did you see when we turned by the Brooklyn Bridge!” She beamed. “ I thought I would scream. It was so amazing! And the lights... there were so many lights! Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”

Trystan tugged her hand, stopping her in her tracks. His eyes locked on hers as he brushed a tendril of hair away from her moonlit face, his thumb trailing across her lower lip.

 “I assure you, I have.”

Carolina lifted herself up on her toes as their lips came together; her arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands found their way to her hips... the night just kept getting better.

“So, you don’t mind being spoiled?” he joked.

“Hmmm. On occasion. This has been magical, but then again... it’s always magical when I’m with you, and I don’t need all the extras to make it so.”

“Then you’ll love dessert,” he assured as they stepped in front of Veniero’s. “Nothing fancy at all.”

“You know about Veniero’s?” Carolina asked, duly impressed.

“Please. Do you take me for a Neanderthal?”

“No, just Drakovian,” she smirked. “Did you know they have the best cannolis in the city?”

“Yes, and I know how much you love a good cannoli.”

“I feel like there’s an inappropriate joke in there,” she giggled as he opened the door. 

“There is,” he agreed. “But we’ll save that for later.”

They ended the night sitting on a blanket underneath an old tree in Washington Square Park. Street musicians played nearby but couldn’t drown out the stream of little pleasure-filled sounds that escaped Carolina’s beautiful lips.

“If anyone were to hear you, they wouldn’t think a cannoli was the causation,” Trystan smiled.

“Please, this is Washington Square Park... no one is going to judge my cannoli kink.”  She snuggled up next to him and held him tight. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way...” she started, as a look of worry crossed his face.

“What is it?”

“Everything about tonight has been just perfect... the limo, the fancy restaurant, the helicopter ride... you really had me feeling like a princess.”

“But?”

“But just being here with you, kissing, snuggling, and watching people go by....”

“My luscious cannoli....”

“The cannoli from Vaniero’s,” she laughed. “There’s nothing better than this.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he replied, wiping a bit of cannoli cream from her lip. He pulled her close for a lingering kiss. 

“So, since this first date went so well,” she started. “Can we have an official second date? Next Saturday?”

“I’d be delighted,” he grinned. “What would you like to do?”

“Oh, no! I’m planning this one. Now I have to spoil you... Bronx style.”

@choicesficwriterscreations

Tagging others on reblog

[dxrkdreamer]

Salvation Part 2

Sukuna had come back to be repaid for what he did for you, his original plan of terrorizing you went down the drain as he stared at a different girl from what he left and the way his heart and mind remained puzzled because of you.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Word Count: 2.3 k

Part 1

Part 3: coming soon… September 19

(A/N: Part 2 everyone! I hope you guys like this :)

Warnings: Mentions of fighting and some blood.

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

You heard stories as you started life with the newfound skills Sukuna helped you develop. The stories were enough to make adults shiver in fear, enough for them to offer their souls. But you laughed at them. Because you knew nothing, not even their soul would stop Sukuna from annihilating them if he felt like it. He didn’t need a reason. The stories of him burning down villages and torturing the inhabitants of said villages were most likely true. You heard a lot of villages began worshipping him out of their fear. It was foolish you thought, He’s just a man.

You may have not been the fittest back then, but you were one of the smartest. You knew he left you when you were 5 because he did want to kill you- but only when you were begging for your life. He wanted to enjoy the pain he’d bring upon you. But if he still wanted that he could have killed you when you were learning from him. You were happy and trusted him, and what hurts more than someone breaking your trust?

He did not want to kill you now either. You knew that. If he did, he would have done it long ago.

So you stared at him, right in his eyes as he looked down at you. Not bothering to pay attention to the other people around him, they were like maggots to him after all.

After he had left you, you lived in the same cottage and fended for yourself. It was not difficult for you to do. But eventually the meat you hunted, berries you picked and plants you harvested would start to spoil. It was too much for a young teenager so you started sharing them with the fellow orphans from your village. But after being with you, they wanted to learn how to fend for themselves too. And you taught them what he had taught you.

Eventually you had become quite popular in the village, and even the nobleman would send their children to you for martial arts lessons. Your students were skilled enough to go to the competitions held in bigger cities where people from all over the country would come to see. And your students won often.

But after 7 years of this you were bored. So when you spotted the peculiar man from your childhood during a martial arts competition your body could only bubble up with excitement inside.

The host man announced the winner and Sukuna smirked as he saw it was one of your pupils. Your name had become known since you were the first female teacher, let alone a female teacher with such a high success rate. The stories he had heard of you made his chest swell with pride… Because I was the one who taught the brat he’d tell himself at the strange feeling. He looked down and noted how much you had grown, from a scrawny preteen to a beautiful woman. Your old tattered clothes were replaced with a silk robe- a very suggestive robe with a deep neckline and the hem at the bottom just barely touching the top of your ankles. So that when you walked your lower leg would be in clear view of ongoing lookers. He knew you wore the cheeky robe on purpose, you loved the attention you got from all the gasps and looks of distaste from other females. What a lecherous woman.

As you walked over to congratulate your student, he swooped down onto the center of the stadium. Chuckling as he heard the gasps from the audience, his four arms stretched out, claws protruded, ready to attack. The sun’s rays made him appear like an ethereal being that demanded attention.

“It’s time you repaid me brat.”

The crowd went crazy, everyone running out, looking for a place to hide as fast as their legs could take them. But his focus was just on you. Your student is long gone, leaving you alone. You never taught them about loyalty so it didn’t matter.

“How can I do that?” you asked tilting your head, you spoke with such calmness it made Sukuna question if you knew who and what he was.

“By coming with me, as my servant”

“Sure” you said nonchalantly. Life was boring, he had come to save you again… from a mundane life. But nonetheless saved you even if it was not from an immediate danger. You did not feel any sympathy for your village, the label of a traitor did not bother you. The village betrayed you first by not batting an eye or offering you any form of help during your time of need. You owed Sukuna a lot, and you were not scared of him, just extremely grateful.

“Women I am taking you with me” He repeated again, slightly deadpanning. Could your pathetic human ears not hear his majestic voice? He brought down a hand and the seating of the studium tumbled down as his power slashed it. The rubble flying everywhere as debris and sand made your sight hazy.

“And I said yes” you spoke and walked towards him, stopping a few inches away where you grabbed one his arms, pulled it down and pressed his claws to the exposed skin right above your heart “You can’t kill me” you said answering the question he had not asked yet.

His arm stayed still in the girl’s hand as he looked at her curiously. When he felt you push his claws further onto your skin, enough that blood started seeping from the puncture wounds his nails created he realized it. He really could not kill you. You saw him not as a monster that terrorized innocent people in villages for his pure joy, but as a powerful man who saved you and gave you a life with purpose. You were the first acting out of love rather than fear.

The dust had cleared and the sun had become visible once again. The hot rays burning the back of his neck, it would surely burn you too if he was not standing two and a half feet taller than you, shading you from it.

“Very well then women”

--

“Sukuna-sama I’ve washed and hung your clothes to dry and have cleaned your quarters” he heard you say. He looked back at you from training, your cheeky robe now traded to more modest apparel. A yukata that would not expose your ankles or your chest, in fact the fabric would sometimes drag on the floor and the neckline was almost choking you. You hated it, but that was all the more reason for him to make you wear it.

It had been about 2 weeks since he “kidnapped you”, he called it but youd respond saying you went willingly- which was the truer of the two stories. Cleaning and cooking and doing the basic servant duties. Normally you’d hate this more than your previous lifestyle, but with Sukuna-sama there was always some excitement. Mostly watching him have trouble with the most basic things and yelling out to you to “fix the mess” in disguise of needing help.

He grunted in response but noticed you settling down, back resting against a tree trunk and you sat in the soft grass he had not wrecked yet. “Woman, have you finished everything?”

“Yes Sukuna-sama” perplexed he brainstormed for another task he could give you but came up with none on the spot.

“Spar with me.”

“What?” You looked up, mouth open as you stared at him. Had you heard him correct?

“I should not have to repeat my words for my servant to do as she is asked.”

Oh.

You stood up hesitantly and walked up in front of him, standing face to face as you took your position. He on the other hand lifted one set of hands so his head could lean back at them, the other lazily at his sides.

You ran up to him, getting ready to punch him, which he stopped with one hand grabbing your fist, so you took it as an opportunity to kick him. But this outfit made it very difficult for you to do as you were thrown to the ground.

“Have you grown weaker?” he mocked. This time with more fire in your body you stood up, ripping the bottom of the dress off, exposing your knees. And you ran forward again, now with more mobility.

What the…. He stared at your exposed legs as you ran, he was distracted allowing you to land a harsh kick at his side making him stumble and fall.

An even score, 1-1.

Dumbfounded he looked up at you, you smirked but deep down you were just as surprised as he was.

“Brat” he mumbled, standing up, stretching his limbs. “One more time” he smirked at you before charging at you with speed. It caught you off guard and you only recovered a second before his right fist came right down at you, giving you just enough time to block it with your forearm, pushing his hand to the side. His left hand was already moving, but you were too and you blocked it again. He was fast and you knew he was not at his full speed, he jumped clasping his other set of hands together as he brought them down on you but you dodged again, jumping back creating a gap of a few meters between you two. You ran to him your fist ready to make contact against his smug face, but he caught your fist and swung you around before throwing you against some trees, the force breaking the tree as you went flying into the trees behind it, each tree falling as your back crashed into them, finally stopping as the force faded.

“Ughhh what was that...'' you groaned trying to move, but your back was in too much pain, and you felt like the bones in your body had all changed places and were swimming around in whatever blood was left in you. In your clouded vision you saw him approach you, tsking and sitting down on a fallen trunk.

This move was different, you knew that much. More powerful? But how and why?

“That had cursed energy in it,” he simply said.

“Cursed energy? What’s that?” you asked confused, your brows furrowing up. “Like curses?” you had heard about those but only thought of them as wive tales.

“Curses are apparitions made from cursed energy” he said, watching carefully as your eyes lit up with curiosity. “The energy is a manifestation of negative emotions”

You nodded pretending to understand what he was going on about.

“Tsk let me show you women” he said.

This marked the next part of your training from him, he taught you how to manipulate your own cursed energy to the point you could also see these apparitions and use it to your advantage.

And you grew stronger than ever before, much to his delight.

--

Throughout the time spent with you, Sukuna began growing fond of you, he enjoyed your presence. To the point he rushed through his usual escapades of terrorizing the lives of people. He’d perk up watching you look through the many offerings he received, picking through them and smiling in excitement when something caught your eye and you’d beg him to let you have it.

“You seem deep in thought?” your soft voice asked from across the room, you were sitting on a floor cushion, mending one of his robes using a needle and thread. It was getting late, the sun was setting and the colors spilled into the room, lighting you up in it’s warmth. You looked ethereal, he thought, taking in the sight of you. You were humming quietly, your eyes focused on the needle, your hands holding the soft fabric of the robe you had picked out for him, your legs tucked underneath you towards the side, the skirt of your dress riding up to reveal your legs. His eye twitched.

“When did I allow you to wear such skanky clothes?”

“Sukuna-sama it's just so much easier to move in these” you argued. He scoffed looking away, but looking at you through the corner of his eye.

“You’re nice to be around women” he grunted.

“Sorry, what?” you lowered your head, hair spilling over your face to hide your grin.

‘I’ll cut your useless ears off myself once you’re done with my robe.’ he tried saying, but he couldn’t lie to you. As he opened his mouth to attempt to say it again he felt the futon dip as you sat near him, placing his finished robe to the side.

“Are you saying you like me?”

“If I didn’t like you I would have killed you and smeared your blood all over the filthy village you came from”

“So you do like me.” How annoying he thought

“Why must I always repeat myself around you, I should just slash you up right now” he says as he lifts his finger, expecting you to dodge it but you sit there not defending yourself as his power cuts through the cloth and flesh over your shoulder, you just grinned up at him. You were so troublesome, getting hurt for his attention. Leaving the room he came back with water, a cloth and some gauze. As he sat down to clean the wound he inflicted you laid your head in his lap, legs sprawled out as he cleaned the wound.

“Hey” you whispered, lifting your hand up and caressing his jaw with gentle fingers “I like you too”.

“I didn’t ask”

[duuhrayliegh]

watch your six - part seven

pairing: bucky x reader

warnings: violence? (not much though), knives, bad crying

word count: 3545

a/n: this is part seven!! i have no idea where this is going, so we’re all being shocked by the events occurring :) i’m proud of this one

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

watch your six series m.list

ray’s m.list

“Okay, just lay back, this might be a bit jarring for you, so sorry in advance.” This woman couldn’t have been much older than you. You were still a bit fuzzy on what exactly was going to be happening, despite her already explaining everything.

Your eyes passed over the group around you. Tony Stark was behind a clear topped table with tools scattered over it, tinkering with his suit helmet. He was muttering about how he hated HYDRA blasters while the eye slits of his faceplate flickered between blue and a lifeless gray. Natasha Romanoff was sitting next to Clint Barton. Natasha was speaking to Clint, her gaze not leaving your form. Clint was oblivious to what was going on around him as he began reloading his quiver.

Steve Rogers was in the corner with Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Steve was standing facing away from you, arms crossed over his chest as he spoke with Sam. Bucky was leaned against a table, sharpening a knife that he held with his metal hand. Honestly, the action made your jaw clench every scrape. You locked eyes with his steely blue pair, he didn’t blink, attempting to assert dominance or whatever an alpha male would do.

Fingers snapped in front of your face which brought your attention back to Wanda. “I need you to lay back.” A deep breath passed through your lungs, exhaling heavily through your mouth. Swinging your legs onto the table, you straightened your body, settling your arms at your sides. “I’m going to place my hands at your temples and then we’ll begin, okay?” You were thankful that she was making sure you knew what was going on. Nodding in response, you closed your eyes at her instruction and she began counting backwards from three.

Streaks of red danced behind your lids and you could feel your eyes trying to follow them. You swallowed harshly as a memory jolted to the forefront of your mind. You were thrown head first into the recollection.

Gemini stared at you, snapping her fingers in front of your face like Wanda did. “Hello? Are you with us or not?” Her black hair swayed against her shoulders. “Libs, I’m going to need you to quit drifting. If you do that on a mission, it could be life or death.” She berated you, walking to her half of your quarters. Your head shook back and forth, mouth moving with the memory.

“Yes ma’am.” You snickered at her, sticking your tongue out at her shocked expression. “When do you think they’re going to assign me a mission?” You were practically bouncing off the walls at the thought alone. Unbeknownst to you, this wasn’t all in your head. Wanda could see the memory in real time, but the others could hear your end of the memory as well. You couldn’t stop your mouth from voicing your half of the conversation.

“You know, I don’t know the answer to that, Libby.” Gemini pulled her desk chair out, straddling it backwards, resting her forearms on it. “You just need to have some patience. It’ll come, just give it time.” You groaned and raised your body into a sitting position, leaning forward with your palms on the edge of your bed.

“I don’t like waiting, Gem. Part of the reason why I fast tracked through the training program.”

“You fast tracked through the training program because you were naturally good at everything we threw at you, Libra. No other reason than that.” She laughed at your facial expression. The Avengers around you were confused as to why your face morphed into one of annoyance.

“That may be the case, but I still got into the Virago. And on top of that, I’m the youngest of the Zodiac.” A proud smile stretched across your face. “Plus, I got teamed up with you and let’s be honest, that’s the real accomplishment here.” She shot you a look and you both giggled. A ping sounded from the sound system in the ceiling.

Zodiac meeting in ten minutes. Be in the conference room and ready by the time I get there or there will be consequences.

“Oh, looks like you might be getting a mission sooner rather than later, Lib.” Your eyes widened at the possibility, excitement rushing through your veins.

“Or they could be just calling us in to yell at us again for sucking it up in training.” Your body shuddered as you thought about a few weeks ago. Your CO had hired help from some elite company to assist with the Zodiac training. It didn’t end well when you didn’t meet their standards. “Let’s hope it’s a mission, that would be way better.”

Your body jolted and you fell off the table, quickly catching yourself before you completely face planted into the concrete floor beneath you. Pushing yourself to sit your ass on the cold floor, you looked around the group. Confused faces were spreading, Natasha and Bucky seemed resigned, as if they had more knowledge. Wanda helped lift you onto your feet, checking to make sure you were okay.

“I’ve had dreams about that place before, about those people.”

“You didn’t think that was important to tell us?” Tony sassed from behind his table. “If you had memories resurfacing, then that means you went through something to suppress them. Like Tin Man over there.” He jerked his head to Bucky, who had a solemn look on his face. He had stopped sharpening at some point, and now he was talking to Steve about something.

“You have something you want to share with the class, Barnes?” You were so done with secrets being kept from you. Everyone around you seemed to know what was going on with your life more than you did. Steve stared at you from beside Bucky, hands on his hips, accentuating his Dorito shaped torso.

“I remembered something about the Virago.” Was all he replied with. You were waiting on him to elaborate on what he meant.

“Wonderful. What did you remember about it? I’d really like to know what the hell is happening.” You started towards the man across the room. He had information that he wasn’t giving the room at large to work out. “And if you’re the thing that’s preventing me from going back to my normal life, we might have a problem, Barnes. So, if you would oh-so-kindly, provide all of us with your newly discovered knowledge, that would be greatly appreciated.”

You had made it about the halfway spot of the room when Bucky silently unsheathed his recently sharpened knife and aimed it at you. Time slowed as you watched the blade spin through the air. You moved your upper half to the right, dodging the slice and catching it with your left hand. Your body continued without your guidance as you rushed Bucky, pushing the blade to his throat. Blinking brought you out of your dazed state as you recognized that you were now pressing the sharp object hard enough against his neck to draw blood.

Retreating quickly you dropped the knife to the ground. A resounding ring reverberated through the now silent room. Your hands shook and tears gathered at your waterline. What the fuck was that?

“The Soldier was tasked with training the Zodiac, current and future.” Bucky’s rasp was the only noise beside your exaggerated breaths. “I knew you were going to catch it, by the way. It’s instinct for you.” He leaned his weight back against the table, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Wanda was the next to speak.

“You realize you just scared the shit out of all of us, right?” You weren’t quite sure if she was referring to you or Bucky, but you guessed it didn’t really matter. You swallowed harshly, biting back the need to cry. Who the fuck am I?

“I’ve heard of the Zodiac.” Natasha was next, still sitting comfortably atop the table next to Clint, legs crossed underneath her. “They were like the Americanized version of the Red Room’s elite. It started out as a SHIELD organization but that didn’t last long. As soon as HYDRA found out, they figured out how to take it over. I think their first plant was a woman named Bianca?”

“What else do you remember?” Steve was commanding the room as you thought he would. It wasn’t until he placed a hand on your shoulder that you realized he was talking to you. “We need you to walk us through your dreams, Y/N. Just so we can get a clearer picture, it’ll probably help spark Bucky and Nat’s memories too.” He shifted his hand to hover over your lower back, guiding you back to the hard table. Climbing up, you closed your eyes and recalled the other two dreams.

“Um, I remember getting my first mission assignment? Actually, it might have been my only mission assignment.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it didn’t end well?” You said in a duh tone, gaining your confidence again. You had no reason to lose it before, you just found out that you were kind of a bad ass. “The whole group was tasked with getting some data from this Louis Richardson guy? He was a part of the Svengali, that was what Suits kept asking about. Supposedly Richardson was a high up guy because they put all of us on that one.” You shook your head, trying to clear up the memories. “It was my first assignment, so clearly I was excited to prove myself a useful addition to the Zodiac.”

“What was the mission exactly?” Tony questioned from his spot.

“Half of us were monitoring the party, making sure if there was a fight that the public didn’t cause a riot. The other half was Plan B. We sat outside the safe house Richardson was allegedly using if his drop went south.” Your breaths shuddered again, recalling what happened next. “Of course, it did. We were only supposed to monitor it, but Gem decided that the info was too valuable to let it slip by us. So, we went in and everything went to shit.”

“My instructors talked about that. They said that they killed everyone though. How did you manage to slip by?” Natasha asked, shooting you an inquiring glance.

“Obviously, she didn’t because they had to wipe her memory, like Manchurian Candidate.”

“Gemini and I were the last ones left and then she sacrificed herself so I could escape, get back to headquarters, those were her orders. Stop drifting, watch my six and run like hell to HQ.”

“Well, that’s how they were able to wipe her.” Bucky added quietly, his mind elsewhere.

“If HYDRA had already taken over the Virago, then they would’ve been able to take her without question.” Natasha finished Bucky’s thought as she watched you on the table. Steve stood next to you, squeezing your shoulder as a comfort. You glanced at him and saw a motherly expression had taken over his features.

“Why would they wipe everything though? They still could’ve used her?” Wanda questioned from her position next to Tony. “I mean, if you were a natural like Gemini said that you were, then I’m sure HYDRA would’ve found something to do with you.” Bucky walked out of the room quickly, leaving the rest of the occupants stunned as to his sudden departure. Steve jutted his head at Sam who followed Bucky. Tony was working through all the facts tumbling around in his head. He began talking to Friday about gathering any information she could find on Louis Richardson and several other things. You sat in silence, continuing to sort through half broken memories and dreams.

**********************************************

Bucky had to get out of that room and away from that woman. Sensory overload was overwhelming him, increasing his need to evacuate. He stepped outside, inhaling the scent of freshly cut grass. He dropped his head into his hands, sinking to his knees on the ground. Bucky despised being vulnerable in front of people. During his time as the Soldier, vulnerability was punished harshly. He was used to swallowing his emotions, shoving them into the dark corners of his mind. Now being free of HYDRA's grip on his mind, he still struggled with displaying his emotions. All he wanted to do was shout until his throat was raw and his voice scratchy.

“You okay, man?” Bucky had figured it would be Sam. An almost neutral third party with experience in counseling veterans, plus Steve was busy dealing with Y/N. Bucky continued to inhale deeply from his crouched position, not responding to the man behind him. Sam took his increasingly calming breaths as a sign that he wasn’t about to keel over. He came up next to the man, stretching his hand out to Bucky for him to grab. “Come on, old man. Talk to me, what’s going on in that cyborg brain of yours?” Bucky shot the man a weak glare, while pulling himself to his feet, resting his hands on his hips. He brought his right hand up to rake through his dark hair.

“I remembered something else, Sam, and I just couldn’t be in there with her anymore.”  Sam hesitated to ask, almost afraid of the answer that he was going to receive, but he knew he needed to.

“What did you remember, Bucky?” There was a heavy pause hanging in the air between the two. They both knew what Bucky had remembered, but it needed to be said out loud to be real.

“Her screams.” There were tears gathering on Bucky’s bottom lashes, threatening to spill over. Sam outstretched his hand to Bucky, not offering pity to the man on his knees. Sam knew what it felt like to be pitied, not a feeling that he wanted to bestow Bucky with.

“You’re going to be okay, man. It’s going to take time, but it’ll happen.” He faltered before continuing, “You know you’re going to have to talk to her about it, right? If you remember, she will too eventually. Especially if she keeps working with Wanda, they’re going to get to that point. It’ll be better to hear it from you than for her to waltz in there unprepared.” Bucky nodded solemnly, bringing his right hand up to scratch his stubble.

“I know.” His voice shook slightly. “But how do you tell someone that you didn’t do anything while they got tortured and experimented on?” Sam’s eyes searched Bucky’s for any sign that he was forgiving himself. What Bucky did when he was under HYDRA’s thumb wasn’t his fault, but this was going to set Bucky back.

“Look, you know that was the Soldier who just stood to the side because you, Bucky Barnes, would’ve done something.” Sam reassured the man with silent tears tracking down his face. He placed his hand on Bucky’s metal shoulder before giving it a squeeze. “Damn it, I can never remember which one it is.” They laughed at his comment, Bucky knew it was for his benefit but he was thankful for it.

The pair entered the compound again, hoping to avoid anyone for a few minutes so Bucky could recollect himself. They weren’t that lucky though seeing as how when they walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, the whole team plus one was gathered around the granite countertops. If any of them noticed Bucky’s red-rimmed eyes, they chose not to say anything, thank fuck for that one.

“We’ve decided that Y/N will be staying here for the foreseeable future.” Tony piped up, breaking the silence that hung over the group. “She’s going to continue to work with Wanda for her memories.”

“I still don’t like this Tony.” It wasn’t often that Steve openly disagreed with Tony, so when he did, it turned heads. “She shouldn’t have to go through with this for us.” Tony opened his mouth to reply when Y/N spoke first.

“Excuse you, Captain. She’s right here and she can make her own decisions.” Her arms crossed over her chest defensively. “You seem to be forgetting that there is a whole part of my life that has been stolen from me. I want it back. If I have to do this to get it back, then that’s what I’m going to do. Helping you is secondary, I just want to make that clear.” A smirk formed on Bucky’s lips, no one stands up to Steve, mostly because he’s usually right.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Tony turned to leave, probably going to his lab to tinker his anxiety away. He pointed a finger at Y/N on his way out. “I like you.” A satisfied grin spread over her features, she’s proud of herself. The first thought that popped into Bucky’s head was that she was being adorable, but he quickly squashed that idea. Not happening, you let her get hurt there’s no way that she’s going to want you. Bucky didn’t sense Steve approach him, too lost in his head.

“You good, Buck?” The man wanted to say no. He wanted to have his Stevie back with the couch cushions on the floor and the newspapers in his shoes. He wanted to go back to 1941, before he got drafted. He wanted to go back to his Ma’s cooking and playing with Rebecca. Hell, he wanted to go back to pulling stick-man Steve out of back alley fights. However, Bucky knew that wasn’t how it worked.

“Yeah, I’ll get there.” Bucky knew that he had it good now. The Internet, less boiled things, no Polio, this unfortunately was a good time period to be stuck in. He just hated that he missed everything else. He missed Rebecca graduating high school and walking her down the aisle, it hurt his heart to think about all the things he wasn’t involved in.

“Where am I staying, room-wise?” Y/N’s voice cut through Bucky’s thoughts, allowing him to refocus on the matters at hand. He needed to figure out how to tell Y/N what he remembered, and that he was sorry, but that will come later.

“There’s an empty room next to Wanda and Vision, I think?”

“Yeah, that’s not a good idea, they’re loud.” Clint cut in, then leaned towards Y/N. “Pillow fights.”

“Okay, well then there’s one next to Sam’s.” Natasha replied, making a face at Clint’s comment. Bucky stiffened as he pictured their room’s hall. The first door on the left was Steve and Bucky’s was next to his. Across the hall was Sam’s room in front of Steve’s and the empty room was opposite Bucky’s. He wasn’t thrilled with the arrangement, but he also wasn’t going to argue with Natasha, not after what happened the last time he did.

“Sick, will someone show me where it’s at?” Steve volunteered, needing to get something from his own room anyway. Bucky sighed heavily at Sam who was wearing an encouraging expression.

*********************************************

“Okay, so this is my room and Sam’s is here.” Steve held his arm up to pick out each room. “This is Bucky’s next to mine and then this is you.” It did make you feel a bit better knowing that you were surrounded by some of the most skilled fighters ever. “Bucky has an apartment in the city, so he’s not usually here. He uses this room when he’s here for missions or check-ups, but Sam and I are always here. We’re either training recruits or out on a mission.” You bobbed your head in acknowledgement.

“I’m going to have to get some of my stuff from my apartment, clothes and shit like that. Those bastards took my laptop so I’ll need to go get another one of those, too.” Steve faltered.

“Why do you need a laptop?”

“I do still have a job, Steven. Not all of us are superheroes or world class assassins. I’ve got to make a living somehow, and that somehow is actually-- oh my god.”

“What? Is everything okay?” Steve became concerned so easily.

“Yes, I just realized that I need to call my boss.”

“Look, Y/N. You’re going to have to take a leave of absence or something. Just while we figure all this stuff out. If you’re posting things online or you’re talking to people over the phone, then you can be easily tracked back to the compound.” Steve placed his hands on his hips. “It’s just easier for everyone, if you just lay low for a while. No work, no outside communication.” Your jaw clenched.

“That’s fucking ridiculous. How am I supposed to make a living, Steve? I can’t just live in constant fear because of this. I want to be able to carry on with my life.”

“If HYDRA gets ahold of you, you won’t have a life to carry on with.” Steve had taken steps closer to you. You gulped causing him to back up. “You’re going to work with Wanda and follow our rules. This is for your own good, Y/N, I swear it is.” Nodding numbly, you opened your room door and flopped onto the bed as soon as you saw it. How the hell did I get myself involved in this?

**********************************

@indigo123789 @austynparksandpizza @zozebo

[holylulusworld]

Savior or devil? – Part 2

Summary: Only days after Rick found you in the woods and takes you in, you end up surrounded not only by walkers but his worst enemy too.

Pairing: Negan x Reader

Characters: Simon, Sherry, Amber, unnamed saviors, Dr. Harlan Carson

Warnings: angst, language (it’s Negan ladies and gentleman), blood, violence, threats, innocent reader, sick reader, bullying, a hint of soft Negan, reader is a ray of sunshine (maybe a bit naïve too but we love her)

Thanks go to @firefly-graphics​​ for the wonderful text dividers.

<< Part 1 here

A few days later…

“I bet that hussy believed she’s someone special. Even the wives complained about her occupying Negan only for her to get kicked out,” you can hear the words, but you decided to ignore that most of the women at the Sanctuary seem to hate you.

“Wonder if she’s too plain and boring for Negan,” Amber snickers at the woman’s words. She doesn’t attack you herself but whenever someone talks low about you, Amber is not far away.

“Don’t you have a job to do?” Sherry grunts, glaring at Amber. “None of us is with Negan on free terms, Amber. I think you forgot about your place. You should be a good example and not waste your time with gossip.”

Whilst you scrub the floor, ignoring the woman who was making fun of you yet again, she kicks your bucket, floating the ground.

“She should know better, girl. Life at the Sanctuary can be rough when you do not fight back.” Sherry gives you an apologetic look.

“She’s right,” you look at the floor, rubbing the brush over a splatter of blood. “I’m not made for life within these walls. I should’ve stayed with Rick. At least he and Daryl respected me,” voice bitter you ignore Negan when he walks toward Sherry to squeeze her ass.

You don’t know if he even recognizes you but for your sake, you decide to not look. It’s too painful to feel like you are just another mouth to feed or a head to split.

Two weeks later…

“Bitch,” you dodge the attack of one woman only to feel a fist collide with your face. Blood runs down your cheek and you must close your eyes when another punch hits your left eye. “Did you believe you are going to become one of his wives?”

“I’m no one. Why don’t you leave me alone?” you kick the woman’s chin, making her gasp in pain. “He didn’t treat me differently, okay. No one wants me or sees something special in me. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

“AMBER!” Simon yells, dragging two women off you. “What the fuck is wrong with all of you? Didn’t Sherry tell you to leave the girl alone? Negan didn’t intend on making her a wife too. Stop acting like jealousy bitches.”

Simon watches the women reluctantly leave. “Thanks, but I…,” you shrug, looking at your hands. “They believe Negan likes me, but the truth is he gives a shit on me just like anyone else. I don’t know how to tell them I’m nothing but a lost girl.”

“Shit, you’re bleeding. Let me talk to Negan. Maybe he’ll give you a room,” Simon offers you a bandana, looking worriedly at the cut above your eyes. 

“No, I’ll handle this. I know you have better things to do than listening to a pissed Negan,” huffing you silently walk out of the room. “But thanks for trying, Simon.”

Another three weeks later…

It’s been a long day like any other day since you started to help at the infirmary. Luckily, Dr. Harlan Carson, a former prisoner and now physician at the sanctuary is a kind man. He took you in, telling Simon you are useful as you wanted to become a nurse before the world ended.

“I can’t thank you enough,” you mumble, giving Harlan a sly smile. “At least here I can do something useful without being bullied.”

“You must understand the dynamics within the community. I was an outsider once, a prisoner even. I still do not belong to them, but at least I’m not a prisoner any longer. Those women, they dream of becoming one of Negan’s wives for the longest time.”

“I heard none of his concubines is with him on free terms. Why do the others want to become a wife that desperately?” you blink, watching Dr. Carson check on the remaining medicaments.

“The wives, they get better food, have a nice room and, that’s most important, protection. No one dares to touch them,” Harlan explains.

“No reason to attack me, tho. Negan never once mentioned he wants me to become one of his wives. He was grumpy and cold. I don’t think he even likes me. Like anyone at this place, he hates me,” you sigh, sitting on a chair. “Well, except for you and Simon.”

“Simon is not a nice guy, okay. Just like Negan, he’s a killer and not to be trusted,” you nod thoughtfully, remembering the way some of the newer members of the Sanctuary looked at Simon. “That man is the second-in-command of the Saviors and the personal right-hand man of Negan. All I can tell you is that even Negan seems to be careful around Simon.”

“You think he’ll hurt me?” Harlan huffs, sitting opposite you, waiting for another patient. “Harlan?”

“If Negan tells him so – yes, without thinking twice. Maybe Negan told him to keep an eye on you or he has selfish reasons to be nice,” you don’t like the sound of Harlan’s words but for now  – you can only be careful and watch your back.

“I don’t think Negan asked him to watch over me, Harlan. That man gives a shit on me,” the door to the improvised infirmary opens and you swallow thickly watching Amber waltz inside, a grin on her face.

“Sorry for coming so late, but do you have a plaster for me?” she coos, and you roll your eyes, deciding to ignore her boring looks or the way she flirts with Harlan. 

“Here, put it onto the hole in your head,” you place a dirty plaster onto her hand, narrowing your eyes. “If you are seriously injured, come back. We don’t treat dumbness in here.” Harlan fights hard to not laugh at your words.

“If you are in pain, tell us so, Amber,” Harlan says instead of bursting into laughter. He knows better than to piss off one of Negan’s wives. “If not, we are busy counting the supplies.”

“I see you around…girl,” Amber spats, turning on her heels. “Hussy…”

“That wasn’t smart, Y/N,” you sigh, nodding silently. “I know, Harlan but she just pisses me off…”

Your shift finally ended and all you want is to lie on your old mattress and find some sleep. But when you come back to the common room, your mattress is gone. Only your bag lies abandoned on the ground, your few belongings dropped to the floor.

“This must be a nightmare,” you are too tired to look for your mattress, so you fold your jacket to use it as a pillow. “Fucking bitches…”

Two weeks later…

Coughing you rub your sore eyes. Today you are too weak to get up. Sleeping on the concrete for more than two weeks took a toll on you. The coldness is in your bones and you’ve got the feeling you have a fever.

“Y/N? Doc said you didn’t…,” Simon gasps, seeing you on the ground without a mattress. “What happened? Where is your mattress?”

“Got stolen or so,” too tired to argue you curl into a ball. “Looked everywhere but they are hiding it well. Dr. Carson wanted to look for one.” Your eyes flutter shut again when Simon presses the back of his hand against your forehead.

“Kid, you are burning up. Your forehead is hot as a pot kettle, but you are freezing. I’m gonna get help,” Simon runs off, leaving you alone once again…

“Someone stole her mattress,” Simon rubs his chin, watching Dr. Carson check on you. “How bad is it, doc? It was my job to keep her safe but I was outside for longer than I thought. Negan will kill me if she dies...”

“Her fever is higher than expected,” Harlan covers your trembling body with a blanket. “I gave her a pillow and blanket, but the next night, it was gone too. Happens every night. I got none left.”

“Those bitches again?” Nodding Dr. Carson pours you a glass of water. “What can we do now?”

“She needs a warm and safe place. Silence, the medicaments I got over there and protection,” Simon nods, looking at the tears run down your cheeks.

“Just let me die, doc. It’s not worth it…I’m not worth it,” you drift into unconsciousness, ignoring Harlan calls your name or that Simon storms out of the room…

“Doll?” Someone whispers into your ear but you are too exhausted to blink your eyes open. “Any girl on my bed should at least pay me attention.”

“Negan, she’s in a bad condition, I’m sorry,” Simon nervously cups the back of his neck, rubbing the skin until it’s sore. “Amber, she was a bitch. I tried to talk to her, Sherry did too.”

“Didn’t work out, huh?” Negan, dips one knee into the mattress, pressing one hand against your forehead. “Girl got a fever, but not the good kind.”

“She slept on the concrete for more than two weeks. Doc said someone, the girls I assume, stole her mattress. When Harlan gave her a blanket and pillow, they stole it too,” Negan’s features darken when you whimper in your sleep.

“Get Amber, the girls you remember, and Doc. I will have a serious conversation with my people. They are not Negan if they do not respect you and your orders,” Negan grasps for Lucille, ignoring you called out Rick’s name, “they will pay.”

“Here you are, lying straight into my face, Amber,” Amber whimpers, looking at the bloody baseball bat in Negan’s hand. Two of the women attacking you lie dead on the ground, coloring the concrete with their blood. “We are all Negan here, but you decided to go against my orders.”

“Simon said,” Amber tries but Negan’s slams Lucille into the wall behind her and she whimpers silently. Urine runs down her legs and Sherry scrunches up her nose in disgust.

“I told her to leave the girl alone. We all know you never asked her to become one of us or you would’ve told us so,” Sherry clears her throat, glancing at Negan. “The girl tried so hard to ignore the people harassing her.”

“She works hard at the infirmary,” Harlan stammers, still intimidated by Negan’s presence. “Y/N is a good girl.”

“Good girl,” Negan groans, remembering the way you used to whimper his name in your sleep. “Sherry, Dr. Carson, you can go.”

“I told her more than once to leave the girl alone. Even though Amber never laid a finger on Y/N, she was the one behind every attack,” Amber glares at Simon, hating he rat her out. “I kept an eye on your kiddo.”

“I hope you kept it in your pants,” Negan grunts, eying his right-hand man warily. Even to Negan, Simon is a brutal and unpredictable man. He always keeps an eye on him. “She’s mine.”

“Heard Rick asked about her, sneaked around and all,” Simon grins, fueling Negan’s anger. “You should lay claim on her before someone snatches the girl out of your hands.”

One moment Negan threatens Amber and the next he pushes Simon against the wall. His hand wraps around Simon’s throat to keep him under control.

“No one threatens my claim on that piece of ass, Simon. No one,” voice low Negan holds Simon against the wall, not letting up. “Anyone who tries will die.”

“She’s a bit better but will need a lot of rest and someone taking care of her. I can bring her to the infirmary and make sure Y/N gets better soon,” Harald doesn’t like the way Negan looks at you on his bed. “If you want me to, Sir.”

“She’ll stay here, in my room. You will come every morning and in the evening to check on her. Tell the kitchen bitch to bring me two plates to my room from now on,” Negan shoves the doctor out of his room, slamming the door shut.

“What? Where?” startled you jolt up in the bed. Your head spins when you look around the room only to find Negan staring at you.

“You’ve got to fucking kidding me, kid,” Negan grumbles, kicking his shoes off. “Lie back down and shut your mouth. Can’t believe you are back to square one.”

“I…I’m sorry,” you try to leave the bed, but the moment you set foot onto the floor your legs give in. Negan catches your fall but not without giving you piece of mind. “I’ll go back and do better…promised.”

“Shut the fuck up. Hell, you can’t even stand, doll,” your body falls against his chest, simply not able to carry your weight your legs won’t obey your mind. “Back on the bed. You’re Negan, which means you’ll have to become a killer or one of my wives.”

“No wife,” you cough, shivering as Negan picks you up to drop you onto his bed. “I’m tired. Tomorrow I’ll do better. I’m a nurse…” your eyes roll back, and you lose consciousness once again. 

Somewhere in the middle of the night, you snuggled closer to Negan. He didn’t wake you when you rested your head onto his chest, nor did he push you away.

Negan prefers to observe your reaction to his closeness like a predator.

His smirk grows anytime you whimper his name and hold tight onto him. He knows to you he’s a savior, a saint even. Even though anyone else knows better.

“Rickaroo won’t get you back, doll,” Negan grins. “The moment you feel better I’ll show him whom you belong to. I’ll give him the best show he’ll ever see…”

>> Part 3

Savior or devil? Tags

@vicmc624​; @aubageddon91​;

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

All works Tags

@yolobloggers​​

@shikshinkwon​​

@miraclesoflove​​

@mogaruke​​

@shatteredabby​​

@soryuwifeyxx​​

@letsdisneythings​​

@i-love-superhero​​

@psychicforest​​

@thevelvetseries​​

@deanmonandnegansbitch​​

@sabascio​​

@goodgodimaweirdperson​​

@that-place-called-middle-earth​​

@trumpettay​​

@zxph-yr​​

@belovedcherry​​

@matsumama​​

@rynabarnesrogers-reading​​

@emoryhemsworth​​

@buckybarnesplumwhore​​

@wonderlandfandomkingdom​​

@kitkatd7​​

[a-libra-writes]

Salt & Snow - Chapter 5

Ships: Ned Stark x Reader, Brandon Stark x Reader

Summary: The daughter of House Caspian begins to realize her place in a world of strict tradition and hierarchy. A tragedy strikes Winterfell, bringing her closer to the Starks.

The brush slid across the thick paper, making a beautifully straight line. The black paint was bold against the paper, which wasn’t completely white, but it was the closest she’d seen, almost as white as snow. What a wonderful birthday gift. Y/N had a thin wooden palette that she perched on her lap, allowing her to take the paper anywhere and paint what she saw. She already had ideas of what to send Ned, although transporting a painting without damaging it would be troublesome. Maybe it was best to just keep it in Winterfell until he came back? He had to return soon, he was seventeen. It had to be soon.

It’s what Lyanna talked about often, and Y/N didn’t blame her. She wanted him back too, though maybe for different reasons. She was pleased he still kept writing to her, entertaining her childish whims, although she didn’t feel childish anymore. They didn’t talk about ‘childish’ topics, either, it was always… all sorts of things. Y/N  could write to Ned about anything on her mind, and he did the same.

I hope we can talk as easily. What if he comes back and I don’t know what to say? Y/N wondered if that was a silly thought. She refocused on her painting, dabbing a small brush into the paints she’d set up beside her. There weren’t many colors to work with, but that made it an interesting challenge. The training yard was busy this late, so she had plenty of subjects to observe. Painting moving figures was a new challenge. It wouldn’t be a perfect still life, instead, she’d try her own composition of movement and action.

Y/N hummed to herself as she worked. She had only two hours before the sun would set, but she was confident she could finish the rest of it in her room.

“Don’t most girls paint flower fields and vases?”

“I’m a lady,” Y/N responded. She didn’t look up from her painting right away, wanting to finish a few more brush strokes. “You should always be gracious to a lady, especially if you’re a future ‘Lord Stark’.”

Brandon grinned. “I was going to scare you, but I decided to be nice instead. That’s very gracious, I think.”

Now you sound like your little brother. Y/N set her brush down next to the paints. She observed Brandon was still in his traveling clothes. “When did you return?”

“Just over an hour ago. It was a slow ride, Ser Roderick wouldn’t let me go ahead of the escort.”

“There’s a reason for that.” Y/N smiled at his impatience. “How was the Rills?”

“The same as always. Next week I’m going to see Lord Manderly. While I’m there, I could stop by your family’s castle. Perhaps I could bring a gift to them.”

“That would be wonderful. You know they would love to have your company, my lord.”

Brandon’s smile was infectious, Y/N had to admit. Thank the gods he was over that irritating phase he had before, acting like he was too grown-up and superior to bother with Y/N and his younger siblings. Well, he could still be irksome to Benjen and Lyanna, but they paid him back tenfold with their usual mischief. Y/N was just pleased he acted like the lord he should be around her. Pleasantries made things easier, and it really would be kind of him to bring her father a pelt or her mother a rare book.

Right now, he was leaning over to see what she was painting, as he’d often been doing the past year. She knew he had no interest in art, but he still made a point to ask about what she was working on.

It’s good for him to at least feign interest and learn about others. Maybe all those scoldings from Lord and Lady Stark are finally sinking in. Y/N thought. She showed him what she’d been working on, groups of men at swordplay. “They’re finally used to my sketching, I think. At first they gave me peculiar looks.”

“It’s because you were staring.” That charming smile turned to an amusing pout. “You shouldn’t be staring at strange men, Y/N, or drawing them.”

“They aren’t strange at all! I know their names, and they’re sworn men, besides. Are you just upset I haven’t drawn you?”

She was teasing like Lyanna and Benjen did, but he didn’t respond like she thought. Brandon actually huffed. “Better me than some old guardsman.”

“Sit down, then.” Y/N gestured to the seat next to her on the bench, the side not covered in paints and paper. “Portraits are always good practice.”

Brandon looked at the spot, only waiting a moment before taking a seat. He was still windblown from the road, smelling like horses and leather, but it wasn’t too unpleasant. Y/N fought the urge to smooth out his hair — it was such a mess, but he wasn’t a boy. Even Benjen was getting too old for her fussing.

“So you know, I’m not the sort to embellish.” Y/N said, her hand darting across a blank piece of paper. Messy sketches were fine for something like this. “So I will be drawing that unruly hair and those red ears.”

“They aren’t red,” Brandon grumbled and rubbed at the ears in question.

Y/N didn’t look up from her drawing. “They are. So are your cheeks. Are you cold?”

“I’d be a poor Stark if weather like this got me cold. Shouldn’t you be concentrating?”

“I am.” Y/N had to glance up to make sure the eye shape was right. Brandon had such an amusing expression, it was making her work difficult. “If you could be still, it would be easier.”

Brandon said nothing to that, only furrowing his brows further. It was startling how much he looked like Lord Stark, while Lyanna took after her mother. Benjen was a clear mix of the two, but all of them had that long face and dark coloring. She pictured Ned’s face in her mind, trying to remember the last time she saw him. Gods, was that three years ago? Maybe four? He must look so different now. Taller, with a proper sword and the skills to back it up - and what about those grey eyes? Would they be darker or lighter? Did he finally cut that brown hair, to better fit in with the Eyrie, or did he keep it long and Northern?

“What are you smiling about?” Brandon asked.

“Oh, nothing.” Y/N said Someone in the distance drew her attention away, which she was grateful for. She waved at him. “Ben!”

Brandon scowled at his little brother walked up. Benjen was already taller than Y/N, thanks to his spindly limbs. He looked around at the art supplies and Brandon’s awkward posture. “I hate it say it, but you’d be better off with a different subject, Y/N. There’s only so much you can do with this one.”

Benjen dodged out of the way of his older brother’s grip. His reflexes were nothing to sneeze at. “Big words from a skinny rat!” Brandon said, getting up to grab at his brother again, but Benjen was too quick. The older Stark may have been as big as his father now, but he had a certain … lack of grace. No doubt he was tired from the trip, too.

“Should I use smaller words?” Benjen easily danced around him.

“Do this somewhere else!” Y/N laughed. That was the end of the little sitting session, then. Brandon couldn’t be still after getting riled up; he was like a dog in that way. “Be careful, would you?”

“I’m just going to teach him a lesson—!” Brandon said, finally getting Benjen in his grasp. He cursed when his brother easily twisted out of his grip and hit his nose. It wasn’t a real punch, but it still hurt, and Brandon shook his head while Benjen unhooked his sword from his belt.

“Thanks!” Benjen scurried off, carrying the sword that was too heavy for him to actually wield. Y/N rolled her eyes at how Brandon predictably ran after him with a fresh new string of curses. He had only been home a few hours before he was going back to silliness with his brother. Lyanna would have joined in too, had she been here. Their latest pasttime was stealing the beautiful new sword Brandon was so proud of. Benjen just liked to stir up trouble, but Lyanna was sour she couldn’t have steel of her own.

What has she been doing today? Y/N hadn’t seen much of her friend today. Lyanna didn’t enjoy the last feast, which was a small affair - only half a dozen families were there, and not all their members - but she was still put off. Y/N hadn’t known Lyanna to retire before her, but that night, she did. It was usually the fatigued Lady Stark that was the early departure, not her fiery daughter.

Thinking about it now, Lyanna was unusually quiet through breakfast this morning, and she had been riding most of the day. Y/N considered that maybe she should have gone with her, even if being near a horse still made her shudder. She could have at least sat on the edge of the riding field and watched Lyanna. Maybe she wanted to be alone. If she really wanted me there, I know she would have dragged me.

With all her art supplies carefully packed up, Y/N returned to the castle and planned to find out what Lyanna’s mood was. I could be overthinking everything. We’re women now, four and ten years, we don’t have to cling about each other anymore.

Y/N nodded to the servants and guards when she saw them, giving a smile to those she knew well. They had long been familiar, pleasant faces that she relied upon. It recently occurred to Y/N that she knew them better than the servants of Whitetide, whose faces were rapidly disappearing from her memory. Maybe if her parents didn’t visit twice or thrice a year, and if she didn’t love them so much, she’d begin to lose their faces, too.

Their shared bedchamber was warm from a low-burning fire in the hearth. Y/N set her supplies down on her desk before shedding her thick cloak. It was fastened with a lovely silver manta ray that had a tiny pearl for an eye, a gift from Lady Stark herself. Y/N’s name day had passed a few months ago, and while her parents couldn’t visit, her second family was right there beside her. Lady Stark’s hands had become pale and thin, but she still wanted to fasten the pin herself after presenting it to Y/N. Then she patted her head like adults did to children, but Y/N couldn’t mind it.

Y/N was so caught up in turning the little manta ray in her hands, she didn’t hear the bedroom door open and close. The stomping of feet made her jump, and she swiveled to see Lyanna yanking off her riding boots and shaking the snow off them in the most unladylike way.

“So you were riding all day,” Y/N said, setting the pin into her modest jewelry box. She offered a smile. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Lyanna didn’t respond right away. She pulled at her cloak instead, tossing it on one of the chairs by the hearth. Y/N’s smile fell. There was an obvious dark cloud around her friend. Lyanna kicked her boots aside and huffed as she sank into an overstuffed chair. She was becoming too leggy to curl up into it like a child.

“Why in the seven hells can I not wear riding trousers?” She said irritably. “I’m sure the washerwomen are sick of cleaning the smell out of my dresses.”

Y/N sat in the chair across from her, settling herself into it. “And the horsehair.”

“It itches terribly. If I had a tunic, it wouldn’t be so bothersome, nor would the branches in my way.” Lyanna picked a leaf off her sleeve. Trouble was brewing in her grey eyes. There was fire in them even without the hearth lighting her face, a natural energy that possessed her entire person. Lyanna was more wolf than any of them, and when she hunched in the chair with her long legs drawn to her chest, she looked like a trapped one.

Y/N waited for her to speak first. There was something on her friend’s mind, but she had to find the words. Once she had them, Lyanna said, “You weren’t bothered at that feast. The last one, with the Karstarks and Glovers and Cassels.”

It was strange for her to bring it up now, but Y/N had just been thinking about it as well. Overall, Y/N would dare to say she enjoyed herself, even if the Karstark boys were too blunt in their desire to dance with her.

“I wasn’t too bothered. It wasn’t as crowded as it usual; I could hear the music for once. I was able to dance for a while, and the lords and their sons behaved.” Y/N didn’t know what else to say. “You left early. You didn’t want to dance?”

“Of course not!” Lyanna responded so sharply, it startled her old friend. “Why would I? Why would you?”

Y/N had no idea what Lyanna meant by that. That embarrassing dance with Roose Bolton a year ago had made her self-conscience of how clumsy her movements were. Lady Stark was delighted that Y/N took an interest in learning grace and how to carry herself better; and didn’t it make sense to test it out? Now that she didn’t overthink the steps, she could enjoy the exercise and the music. The company was good, and when she was tired, she japed around with Benjen and little Jory.

With all those racing thoughts, Y/N simply said, “I enjoy dancing, if that’s what you mean. What’s the matter with that?”

Lyanna shook her head, her brown hair falling farther out of a braid that was already coming undone. She’d lost another set of silk hair ribbons. “I don’t know how you stand it. You’re just a prize to them, you know, a bauble. You shouldn’t even amuse them. Neither of us should.”

“Who are you talking about?”

“The men! The lords or their sons, whichever! We’re just stupid little brides to them. Didn’t you notice them looking at you? Shoving their sons at you? Lord Karstark had them all lined up! And even if they’re married, they’ll leer!”

“That’s… that’s ridiculous, Lyanna,” Y/N stammered. “Where did this come from?”

“Y/N, we’re women grown now!” Lyanna was bursting with energy and frustration that she couldn’t get out fast enough. “My mother married at six and ten! It’s nearly time for us, time for arrangements! Soon every lord will be nibbling at my father’s heels to take me off his hands, and no doubt your own lord father has received letters from all the ones you danced with.”

“Lyanna. Did someone tell you something?” Y/N asked. She was already trying to avoid thinking of the future, and Lyanna had never discussed it with her. She thought her friend didn’t think of it at all. “Before you, Brandon will marry, and that hasn’t even been discussed.”

“Of course it has! Why would they tell us? They can marry me off without finding him a bride, and without asking what I think.” Her cheeks were burning with red anger now. “I’m a Stark, so I can’t stay in the North. They’ll send me away somewhere — somewhere South, because where else? I’ll have to leave Winterfell, while my brothers and everyone I love stay!”

Y/N went to Lyanna, taking her hands in her own. She squeezed them tight. “Where did all this come from? Have your parents been talking?”

“No one needs to tell me. It’s the truth, isn’t it?” Lyanna said, looking Y/N right in the eyes. “That’s what we’ve got to look forward to, Y/N. The feasts aren’t meant to be fun for us. Maybe for the men, but not for us. We’re there to be picked and chosen, like prize fillies.”

Lyanna squeezed their hands tight, so tight it hurt right away. She stared at Y/N’s clean nails and smooth palms. Except for the occasional smudges from paint, they were always like this. Lyanna looked at her own, already becoming calloused at the palms and thumb, often edged with dirt around her nailbeds.

Y/N was at a loss. Her friend’s harsh words were true enough; she was well aware of what their duties as women were. It crossed her mind now and again, the thought of marriage and that she’d have to return home eventually so her parents could begin to plan. She’d push those thoughts away, hoping the day would come slowly. She didn’t want to leave Winterfell, or her dear friends.

Still, she said, “It… It has to happen eventually. Our parents aren’t cruel, they wouldn’t give us terrible husbands, and they’d talk to us before any arrangement. When we have to leave Winterfell —”

“You won’t.” Lyanna pulled their hands apart. “You’ll be staying here, Y/N, and I’ll be sent away.”

“What? No, when my parents are ready arrange a match, they’ll call me back to Whitetide.”

“You aren’t going back! Isn’t it obvious? You’re going to marry one of my brothers!”

After that statement, the only sound in the bedroom was the crackling of the fire. Lyanna didn’t back down. In this light, her Stark eyes weren’t grey at all, only hot steel.

“How do you know that?” Y/N said. With the loss of Lyanna’s hands, she nervously tugged at end of her long sleeves. “Did … did someone say —?”

“No one has to! I thought you knew! You’re fourteen, a woman grown, and my parents haven’t sent you back, nor have your’s asked for you. When they meet, they’re always whispering and glancing around. Brandon will marry outside the North, as the oldest son, and Ned will marry inside, as the second. Benjen will serve Winterfell. It’s how these matters are done, Y/N.”

Y/N’s throat closed as she choked up. Her blood was rushing in discomfort. She didn’t want to fight, she wished they could just change the subject. What brought this on? She’d never seen Lyanna in a mood like this. “You don’t — you don’t know that. Maybe my parents will send for me in a month. We don’t know.”

“Maybe they will, but when it’s time for you to leave, they’ll send me away, too. There’s a reason mother doesn’t care if I spurn the lordlings here.”

Lyanna’s anger had broken again, now it was just frustration and sadness. The two girls stood in silence. The flames of the fire made shadows in the room, and that was the only thing that moved for some time. The shadows seemed to grasp at the two of them, little fingers reaching for their dresses and hair. Y/N was the one who stepped forward, wanting to make it better.

“We’ll always be friends,” Y/N said, trying to keep her own choked up voice steady. “No matter what. I won’t ever forget you. I’ll write you a dozen letters a month if you get sent to the south.”

Lyanna was tired. She couldn’t attempt a smile, but she said, “That’s more than you write to Ned. If he ended up in a green field instead of a mountain, would you have sent more?”

“No, the dozen is only for you.” Y/N said, even if she cursed the slowness of her letters to the Eyrie so many times, it felt like a mantra. She touched Lyanna’s shoulder. “Let’s ready for supper, Lyanna. You’ve been riding a long time.”

Lyanna only reluctantly went along with her. After dinner, they changed into their nightgowns and brushed each other’s hair, as usual, but there was no laughter and joking this time. When they huddled under the furs, Lyanna faced away, still deep in her thoughts. Y/N didn’t know what else to say, if anything at all would help, so she closed her eyes.

“What are you reading?” Benjen’s long hair swung back and forth as he hung upside down.  Y/N looked up, wondering when he managed to scramble right above her. Just a few minutes ago he was struggling to get on the first branch.

“A letter,” Y/N said, “Although I think you already knew that.”

Benjen grinned. “I did, and I know who it’s from.” He swung back up on the branch and easily moved himself to a standing position. He reached for another branch and lifted himself with ease, starting his disappearance into the leaves. With each branch he climbed, a few leaves fell down. Y/N pulled one from her hair.

She rested against the trunk and returned to her letter. Ned was writing about Robert’s attempt at jousting. He much preferred the melee, but ladies preferred the jousting, he said. Y/N was pleased Ned stayed out of all that. He also tried to doodle a little manta ray, in response to the direwolves and cats and deer she often drew on the margins of her letters. They were… arrow-y looking. Close enough.

I’ll have to pick up some skills from you the next time we meet. I don’t think I’d be a good student, but just watching you paint with my own eyes would be enough. You’ve written about it before, but I think hearing you talk about it would be much different. I want to you to tell me.

Y/N closed the letter hastily, wondering if her beating heart and sweaty palms were showing on her face. She glanced around and caught eyes with Brandon. She kept noticing his staring in the past hour, even though he was across the training yard trying to practice. It was a little strange. Are there leaves in my hair again? She touched her hair from the top of her head to her pearl. Brandon seemed annoyed, so she’d prefer he kept his gaze to himself.

The tree branches shook above her, and she heard feet scuffling around. “Ben, be careful!” Y/N called upward. “You shouldn’t climb so high!”

Benjen either didn’t hear her, or was pretending to not hear. Y/N sighed, folding her letter, stashing it in her belt and standing up. She craned her head, trying to spy the wiry boy through the leaves. He may have been a year younger, but she fretted over him from time to time, thinking of her little brothers back in Whitetide.

“Maybe he’ll climb high enough to catch a cloud and float away.” Brandon was beside her before she knew it, and Y/N was glad he didn’t seem as bothered as she thought. On the contrary, he was amused.

“Maybe,” Y/N giggled. She heard more rattling, but it didn’t sound like leaves. It was metal chains, and coming from a different direction. Behind the two of them, the maester approached them as fast as he could, the old man breathing hard as the chains swayed around his neck. He didn’t seem to care about the mud dirtying the end of his robes.

“What’s happened?” Brandon asked while the maester tried to catch his breath. In all the years she’d been here, Y/N had never seen the man so harried, and it seemed neither had Brandon. For a panicked, irrational moment, Y/N thought there was a raven from Whitetide. Dark wings, dark words.

“Lady… Lady Stark has … a … an illness.” The maester took a deep breath, attempting to compose himself. “She has been … weak, as you know, but … it’s far worse than I thought. She needs to be kept apart from everyone else at the Keep. When was the last time you spoke with her, children?”

Brandon took a moment to respond. “This morning, I talked with her, she— she hugged me, but —”

The maester shook his head. “And you, Lady Y/N?”

“Last night, at dinner,” Y/N said quietly. “She took my hand…”

She remembered the kind gesture, and now weary and pale Lady Stark looked. That night, her eyes looked especially tired. She’d begun to hold onto her husband or one of the servants when she walked to and from her room, the place she stayed in the most nowadays. No one seemed to want to talk about her worsening condition, not even the Lady herself. Out of respect to her, no one mentioned it openly.

The leaves danced around them as Benjen swooped down from a low branch. “Can’t we see her?”

“I just said you cannot,” The maester said. “She will be kept away from here on, and we will burn her things and anything she has come in contact with. Now, if the three of you will come with me, I’ve already spoken with Lord Stark and Lyanna…”

Lady Lyarra Stark died within a week. The children heard of the passing suddenly, as her husband was the only one who could visit her through her last days. No amount of guards or a maester’s lecturing would keep Lord Stark from her bedside.

Y/N stood next to Lyanna at the funeral, allowing her friend to clutch her as they all prayed in the godswood. Lady Stark’s bones had been kept in a beautifully engraved wooden chest, and they would be moved to a place of honor in the crypts, but that was little comfort to the children she left behind.

Y/N said some prayers aloud, mouthed others, but kept her head down the entire time. She heard the servants of Winterfell crying and praying, and clearer than that, Lyanna’s crying into the fur draped around Y/N’s shoulder. Her voice was muffled, but Y/N could still feel her body shaking. Y/N herself was trying to keep her tears from rolling down her face. The warmth of them stung her cold cheeks terribly.

Benjen was quiet on the other side of her, staring up at the red leaves like he was in a daze. Brandon seethed beside his father, who was as old as the stone lords in the crypts. Y/N was anxious to see Lord Stark’s expression, knowing it would either scare her or make her tears come faster.

The Starks stayed behind to keep vigil while the servants and guards returned to the keep. Y/N didn’t know how long she stayed kneeling in the snow. She listened to Lyanna’s quieting tears and remembering the kindnesses Lady Stark had given her. Anytime Y/N missed her own mother, Lady Stark was ready to speak with her, to teach her something, or hold her for a while. Y/N couldn’t imagine how the others felt. She thought of her mother now, safe in Whitetide, and desperately wished she could see her.

“Return to the keep,” Lord Stark said after some time. Y/N still didn’t know how long they’d been outside. “All of you.”

“Father —” Brandon started.

“Go.”

Their lord father’s voice was hoarse and hard. He didn’t look at any of his children as they slowly stood around him. Y/N’s legs had gone completely numb from both the cold and kneeling. She wobbled, and Lyanna tried to help her stay upright, no doubt just as weak-legged herself. Benjen found his way to his sister’s side, holding onto her like she held onto Y/N. It reminded Y/N of when he was younger, tagging alongside the two of them.

Y/N glanced back, noticing that Brandon was still trying to linger by his father. She didn’t know if they exchanged words, but eventually Brandon caught up to them as they walked back to the keep.

They all walked slowly, and the Winterfell that greeted them was eerily quiet. The kitchen staff worked with no cheer or haste, the smith’s anvil was quiet, there were no carts or wagons being pulled through the gate. At the feast hall, the candles were burning low, and there was only one servant tending to the cleaning the floors. Her scrubbing was interrupted by intermittent sniffling.

Ned couldn’t be here, Y/N thought not for the first time. Her heart sunk into her gut, making her feel sick. She knew the others were thinking the same. What could I say? What could I possibly say?

She mechanically walked to the main parlor, sitting down at the windowsill. Lyanna sat by the hearth, Benjen sat beside his sister, and Brandon had split off from them quickly. Y/N looked out the window, glad it faced away from the Godswood. She had a feeling if it did, she’d see Lord Stark still kneeling in the snow. She recalled Ned told her the Eyrie’s godswood was more of a little forest, and her heart ached even further. It almost made her cry again. How are the gods supposed to watch over him? Or hear him when he’s in trouble?

She would wait for Lord Stark to send word, if it hadn’t already been done, then she’d send a letter to Ned herself. She’d paint something, too, something special. She’d do anything, if only she knew what that was. Why couldn’t he be here? Y/N rubbed at her raw eyes and rested her head against the cool glass of the window, letting the chill hit her dizzying, exhausted head.

Y/N stirred and sat up slowly. Her head was aching from the awkward angle she fell asleep at. She squinted out the window, but there was only darkness. Across the room, the fire was low, and a chill was settling in the room. Y/N pulled her fur cloak closer around her and shivered. Where was everyone?

She slipped off the windowsill and wandered the halls. If it was dinnertime, no one woke her up, and she didn’t smell meats cooking as she entered the great hall. Y/N stepped outside into the fresh snow, wondering if the day had all been a terrible dream.

It wasn’t, though, and she couldn’t hide from it. People died all the time, especially women and children. If it wasn’t this sickness, Lady Stark may have died in childbirth. That was a far more common fate, something Y/N would have to worry about herself one day. Some day soon.

She sighed heavily and hesitated at the edge of the godswood. The darkness was all around her, with the warmth and light of Winterfell far behind. She took a step forward, letting her boot sink into the snow. The moon was waning, giving off the slightest light. The white bark of the trees and the snow glowed on a full moon, but tonight, they disappeared.

One foot in front of the other, the snow crunched below Y/N’s feet. She kept thinking about Ned, imagining his expression, what he would say — she would never know, of course, and that made it worse. She could only write and draw, there was no holding and comforting. The thought of holding him hit her so strongly, her body ached. Lady Stark held her when she worried about her uncle at sea, when she caught sick or when she hurt herself. Y/N wanted to hold Ned like that, even if he was far bigger than she. Maybe this was a stupid, girlish, childish thought. Maybe it was, but stupid words on paper didn’t seem like enough.

There was a clear path that let to the heart tree, but the darkness didn’t help her navigate, a strange noise did. It made her jump at first, but there were no wolves in these woods. She listened carefully. There was the distinct sound of someone shuffling around in the snow, like they were standing up. Y/N anxiously wondered if it was Lord Stark. No, he can’t be here still. It’s been half a day …

She jumped out of her skin when she heard a voice call out, echoing off the snow and the trees. “Who goes there?!”

“I-It’s only me,” Y/N started, ready to apologize to Lord Stark, but the voice sounded off. Too young, too angry. “…Brandon? Is that you?”

The person didn’t respond, but she heard boots trudging clumsily through the snow. She felt a presence next to her, and finally she could see his outline. Y/N reached forward and was surprised to not touch a fur cloak or thick surcoat, but a fairly thin tunic that was frigid cold, and the stiff muscles underneath it. Brandon didn’t flinch away from her, so she kept her hold on his forearms.

“Brandon, come inside.” Y/N said. Her own voice was weak, she realized, and she was already shivering. “It’ll get colder, and it’s already so dark. How long have you been here?”

Brandon sniffled, both from the cold and the tears, she assumed. “Father hasn’t come in. I was waiting …”

Y/N shook her head. He must have come right outside after realizing it was dark and Lord Stark still hadn’t returned to the keep. “You can’t stay out here all night. Come inside. Please?”

Brandon didn’t seem easy on his feet, and he was trying to keep his teeth from chattering. “I-I have a vigil to keep. I have to — father is, s-so I should at least try…”

“You’re cold, and exhausted, besides. You ran out here without anything, you fool. Why aren’t you wearing a cloak?”

He mumbled something in return. Y/N pulled the tall boy toward her, wanting to urge him toward the light in the distance. She was ready to give him her modest cloak, just enough to serve until they reached the warmth of Winterfell, but then he wrapped his arms around her. Y/N let out a noise of surprise as his head slumped on her shoulder. Brandon was heavy, but she kept steady. For a moment, it was all still: The godswood around them, Brandon in her arms, the night above them.

Y/N was about to speak, but then she heard a noise, like a deep gasp. Brandon shook from the cold and his own emotion. Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders and let him cry.

Robert shook his leg impatiently, causing the thick heel of his boot to tap against the floor again and again. Normally Lord Arryn would chastise him for his restlessness, but the two of them had been quiet for days. Robert didn’t like quiet, or gloominess. He didn’t want to stay like this a minute longer.

“Has he left his room yet?” Robert asked for the third time.

“Be patient, Robert.” Lord Arryn replied expectedly. “Recall that terrible day you endured.”

He didn’t have to recall his own parents’ demise. Robert thought about it often, a wound that was still fresh, and it only closed up when he drank enough or when a pretty girl sat by him. It’d come back afterward, though, and then he had Ned to talk to.

He shouldn’t have to go through the same thing, Robert thought irritably. The worst part is, he knew Ned wouldn’t want a drink or a pretty girl, or a fight, or a new horse. He would just sit in his own sorrow, brooding in that way he did. The young Baratheon huffed, shifting his restless energy to tapping his fingers on the table. Ned was always talking him out of trouble and listening to his worries — the only person he’d ever spoken to about them. But what did Robert ever do for him?

The Baratheon heir growled in frustration and stood from his seat abruptly. Lord Arryn only glanced up a moment, but Robert was already gone.

He barged into Ned’s room, and was half disappointed Ned wasn’t there — he’d been sitting vigil at the Eyrie’s godswood for too damned long, but that made this next part easier. Ned had several of his girl’s paintings up around his desk, where anyone could see them, but Robert knew where he kept the letters. He opened the bottom drawer and in a wooden box with the direwolf sigil, and there they were.

Robert had read some before. Sometimes Ned would read things aloud, sometimes Robert snuck in here, but they were never that exciting. Always talking about Winterfell or what the horses were doing, nothing salacious like a proper love letter should be. Still, they made Ned happy. Robert picked a few out and tucked them carefully in his doublet.

The grass crunched under his boots as he entered the godswood. The fiery red leaves and snow-white bark looked out of place amongst the rocky Eyrie, he always thought, especially when there was bright green grass and regular trees around the weirwoods. He spotted Ned at the same place he’d been for hours, kneeling. His head was lowered slightly, some of his long brown hair falling around him, and Robert wondered if he was asleep. Then Ned raised his head and turned it.

“Robert?”

“Brought you something.” Robert said. Ned wasn’t getting up, so he awkwardly knelt beside him. Gods, it was murder on the knees, and even in that position he was far taller than Ned. Robert retrieved the letters from his doublet and handed them over.

Ned looked at them with hope, then confusion.

“They aren’t new,” Robert said, chuckling. “I just … I remembered you liked these ones. Y/N was writing something about a festival? And Lyanna stole a sword off your brother. Y/N wrote about her dress, and something about a horse…”

He trailed off, wondering if this was a stupid idea. He was terrible at this. These were the letters with the most pictures, giving life to what Y/N wrote about, as clear as any maester’s history book. Ned stared at the papers in his hands, lightly touching a rare self-portrait Y/N had done of her new gown.

I worked on it for two weeks, although your lady mother helped me several times over. It’s the first one I’ve sewn by myself, and I hope I do it justice. This may not be interesting to you, but I’m proud. It’s cerulean and white.

Lyanna wanted me to draw her with Brandon’s sword. She thinks it’s very funny. ‘How can he call himself a lord when he can’t keep hold of his own sword?’ I thought Benjen was the thief, but Lyanna can be just as clever. It took him all day to realize she’d replaced his with a dull training sword.

Do you remember when you found my pearl? You couldn’t forget, I know, but I still think about it when remove it to brush my hair. I’ll never forget that kindness, Ned.

He smiled for the first time in a week. To Robert’s excitement, he made an expression for the first time in days.

“You can go back home,” Robert offered, wanting to keep the mood up. “Even if it’s just for a short time.”

They were men grown, ten and seven years old. If anything, they should have left the Eyrie by now. Both of them knew it was only a matter of time, though Robert didn’t want to go back to Storm’s End after all these years, having to finally take his lordly duties seriously. Ned was a second son, his duty would be commanding the household guard or visiting with minor houses.

Robert had a feeling if Ned left now, he wouldn’t come back to the Eyrie.

“Perhaps.” The Stark said quietly.

Their easy days had to end eventually. Why did it have to be on such a damned sad note?

Robert looked up at the heart tree. Its eerie, foreign face stared down at him. He had no prayers to give, only a quiet request that when Ned returned to Winterfell, it would be safely. The only noise for a long time was the wind rustling the branches of the white trees and the shuffling of the letters as Ned re-read them.

[theodora3022]

Since you wrote about Yandere Villians with Y/N having a cute fairy quirk, how about a Yandere Hero having a Y/N with a monstrous quirk? SO...you pick the hero! Pick any male hero who you believe can handle Y/N. You do such amazing writing.

Y/N have to wear a face mask to hide the muzzle she wears going outside. Y/N have a quirk where she goes on a frenzy. Her eyes turn red, her veins pop out of her skin, she starts growling and trying to bite anyone near by. A monster who craves to rip flesh and bones. Y/N can turn on her quirk if she feels so much anger or fear. Y/N doesn't want to hurt anyone. She wants to live a quiet and alone life.

Wolf

Pairing: Best Jeanist x f!reader

Warnings: light yandere content, power abuse, threats

Thank you so much for the compliment, dear anon! I went soft with the monster idea that I just made the reader into a werewolf...hope it is still good! I was torn between Kiri and Best Jeanist! I really like Best Jeanist, I wish he got some more screen time ... Maybe I’ll do another one for the shark boy later.

Some groundwork:

When your quirk manifested at four years old, you were not surprised: you come from a family of Mutant quirks, after all.

Your quirk, wolf, means you can transform into a wolf anytime. The longevity is unknown to you since you barely use it. Even in your normal human form, you still have wolf ears and tail. You also have a sensitive nose, just like canines. You (hair color) fluffy fur is the same color as your hair. In acient times, before quirks become a thing, you would be seen as a werewolf.

While transformed, it is hard to supress the wolf’s wild instincts, the desire to hunt, to kill and consume raw meat (extremely difficult if you are hungry). You hate it, being like a beast instead of human. You had outbursts in the past that nearly killed one of your friends. There fore you stay in human at all times.

So most of the time, you just kept a muzzle near you, just in case you would lose yourself to the beast again.

You always feel this...strange sense of difference between you and normal people, so all of your friends have mutant quirks. You kept your social circle small, only letting those who are deemed trustworthy close to you (you told them to run if they see any signs of you getting wild)

You always had a soft spot for animals, therefore you decided to work in a pet shop. Dogs especially loves you, maybe because your canine quirk. Cats not so much, as they had left quite a few marks on you when you just started.

Now you are the assistant manager, the salary is decent, so you do not look for anything more. You never thought of having a romantic relationship because you do not trust yourself: you do not want to hurt the person you love. So even if you had crushes you just kept those feelings hidden until they went away.

Best Jeanist/Tsunagu Hakamada

Did you know his favorite animal is wolf? Therefore he is a furry

Being the No.4 pro hero means taking on lots of stress, so Tsunagu decides to have an animal friend at home who he can talk to freely, without worrying leaking information (I mean how can animals pass on information).

He went into the nearest pet shop, hoping to find a furry companion, preferably dogs.

What he did not expect is to find you there, with those literal puppy eyes and fluffy ears sticking out of your hair, tending to the puppies.

Tsunagu met people with similar quirks before, and he finds them aesthetically pleasing. But seeing you with a litter of adorable puppies, laughing and petting them? He felt like his heart just melted.

“Hello sir. How may I help you today?” You put on your usual smile. Tsunagu is wearing his civilian clothes, so he is just another customer to you. A fashionable one, though. You took notice at his stylish blonde hair.

Tsunagu would ask you about all the options for adopting a puppy. However he is only half-listening: he is drawn to how your ears twitch towards any abnormal sounds...

“Oh, my ears? Sorry if they are distracting. It’s part of my quirk.”

Would get you to talk to him as much as possible, with lots of polite questions.

When you bid him good day as he walks out the door, holding a poodle puppy with its supplies, Tsunagu is determined to see you more.

You are warm, like a ray of sunlight in this stormy world. Having worked as a pro hero for so long, dealing with many negative things so often, make him attracted to positive people. Those furry wolf ears and tail only added to his admiration.

Whenever Best Jeanist is not needed at his agency, Tsunagu Hakamada would find excuses to drop by your shop. Whether it be buying new accessories for his puppy or simply need some advice on her, he would find a way to talk to you, to hear your voice.

Until he become acquainted with you enough, Tsunagu finally asked for you name.

“I’m (y/n), and you, sir?” “Tsunagu. Tusnagu Hakamada.”

Never have once you associated your friendly customer with the No.4 Pro hero of Japan. Tsunagu is charismatic and talkative (at least to you), never putting on airs like Endeavor. Since he wears a mask, the public does not have a good idea what he looks like.

Then you noticed those small gestures, how Tsunagu’s hands would “unintentionally” brush against yours when you hand over his paid items, how his body would lean in slightly towards you whenever you are talking. Or how his lips would curl upwards whenever your tails wags with excitement. You also seen him way more frequently compare to average customers.

“He got a crush on you.” One of you co workers, teases after Tsunagu left the store.

“No he doesn’t.” You blush, although considering her hypothesis.

You seen some of his clothes in fashion magazines, one of them costs more then your monthly salary. Tsunagu is clearly a rich man, a fashion designer perhaps.

“Ms.(y/n), sorry if this sounds intrusive, but do you have a lover?”

That was...unexpected. “No, I do not. Why did you ask, Mr. Hakamata?”

That saves him trouble. Best Jeanist has got this flawless reputation for years, he prefers not to taint it. But if he must, Tsunagu would not hesitate. You belong with him, and him only. “Well, it’s possible such a beautiful lady like you already has a significant other.”

“Mr. Hakamata...I-” You were not sure to blush or to smile. Now it is clear to you: This blonde is interested in you. However you do not know what to respond.

“Call me Tsunagu, please.”

The next day you would find a lily bouquet wrapped in denim on the store counter?! Who use that as a bouquet wrapper? Flatter as you are, you still find this unsettling. He did not show up for the rest of the day, which gives you time to think.

Tsunagu is handsome and kind. He seems like a perfect choice, but you wonder what he would say if he saw you as a bloodthirsty wolf, feral and hungry for killing.

You decide to turn him down, not wanting to give him false hope.

Some minor villain is causing trouble in the streets when you were walking home. You were just going to sprint away at first, but in the corner of your eye you saw a mother with her toddler daughter being corner by the villain. The way the mother tries to protect her child triggered something in you. You have to do something!

“Grr!!!” Suddenly a piece of flesh is ripped off the villain’s leg. The villain screams in pain, but you dodged every last one of his attacks while leaving deep bite marks on him. Soon the sidewalk is stained crimson with blood. You know the two had already gotten away, you should stop now. But the wolf instincts got the better of you. You crave blood, lots of it. The growing pool under you is not enough.

You heard police sirens, someone yelling for you to stop, but the wolf is not willing to. It seems it would not be satiated unless this villain dies a brutal death.

Streams of fibers wrapped around you, restraining you until you cannot move anymore.

When you regained consciousness, you were in a clean jail cell, still in your wolf form. You assumed that you are being confined in a hero agency since you just lost control.

The door cracked. It is Tsunagu! What is he doing here? And why is he wearing a jean mask?

Then you saw the rest of his outfit. Demin jeans suit from head to toe, the...the No.4?

He is Best Jeanist? What is happening now?

Tsunagu wanted to take things slow, he wanted to date you normally, letting you know everything about him, but this seems like too good of an oppertunity to pass up.

“(y/n), can you understand me?” He crouches down with a concerned look on his face.

You nod. You are not able to speak human languages while in wolf form, another draw back.

“Do your clothes come back when you transform? Or do you need some clothes?”

You left your clothes behind a dumpster before, so you just shook your head. If you were to transform now, it could be quite embarrassing.

Handing you a denim dress, Best Jeanist leaves to give you some privacy to change.

After you are dressed and back in human form, he took you to his office.

“I know you must have lots of question right now, but please allow me to explain somethings first.”

“The villain is in bad shape. You did quite a bit damage on him. His blood loss is immense; he is still in the ICU as we speak.”

Why don’t you just let him die, he’s a threat to society anyway. You ask yourself, silently.

“However, while he is a villain, you still hurt him too much. And it’s not even self-defence. You are not a hero, it’s illegal.”

You tense up. Would you face charges for this? For trying to protect other people.

“Would I go to Tartarus? For how long?”

“Oh, come now. As long as I have any say , I won’t allow that to happen.” Your eyes lit up, wanting to thank him.

“You can be my wife instead. Stay with me, and no charges would be pressed.”

What?

You know he likes you, but just asking to become his wife like that? Without dating first.

“Tsunagu, I... you...this...” He finds your stutters cute, as he traces his fingers along the edge of your wolf ears. Best Jeanist had been wanting to do that for so long, he worked so hard to restrain himself.

“Your choice. Either face court charges, or you can be with me, all is well.”

Tsunagu Hakamada is confident about his chances. An innocent, adorable civilian like you will not last long even in the most outer cells of Tartarus.

Tears slides down your chin as you give a reclutant reply. “I’ll...be with you.”

Who could have thought Tsunagu would do such a thing? He is always so nice and friendly. But now here he is, threatening you with this crime?

“Perfect.” Snapping a denim collar around your neck, he lifts your chin, forcing you to look up to him. “I can’t wait to get you home; you would be such a lovely little wolf. My little wolf.”

“Should you ever try to leave me, I’m sure Tartarus is always avaliable.”

[dokidokey]

catch me falling

summary: in a world where quirks and soulmates exist, number one pro-hero deku must have angered the universe to have a soulmate he is supposed to take down － y/n, the league of villains’ newest recruit, and also his childhood best friend.

pairings: midoriya izuku x reader

bingo slot: on the run

prompts: “stay. i need you more than you think.” / soulmate au

genre: angst

warnings: cursing, violence, deaths, and kiribaku

word count: 2,317

notes: happy birthday, deku! this is for @bnhabookclub’s celebrating deku event, in honor of our number one boy, midoriya izuku’s birthday! also a cross-post for the hero camp bingo event! hope you enjoy! my event masterlist can be found HERE.

“Dabi!” You shout, both in desperation and pain as the throb on your sprained ankle flares up, and the raven-haired boy zooms past you.

“Keep up, princess!” He yells back and he’s gone.

“Fuck you,” you wheeze, eyes pinching close from the pulsing pain.

The alleyway you’re hiding in is dark even though it’s the middle of the day and the sun is high up. You faintly hear the blasts from Ground Zero somewhere, along with the general chaotic noises that you and Dabi started up.

The League of Villains had been quiet for a long time, with Shigaraki plotting up new crimes to take down these ridiculous Pro-Heroes. It’s been months since you caught Shigaraki’s attention and proposed to you the idea of joining them. Of course you accepted, and here you are now, with a sprained ankle and an asshole of a crime partner.

You’re drenched in sweat, the thick cloak around you not helping relieve the warmth in your body. It’s one of the things Shigaraki thoughtfully gave you to conceal your identity to the Pro-Heroes, but mostly to the Number One and Number Two.

It’s one of the reasons too, why Shigaraki wanted you.

You grew up with Bakugou and Midoriya. You were there when Bakugou got his Quirk, the same jealousy Midoriya had tingling within you. When you got yours though, it was Midoriya that left. It did something to get your bond stronger with the blonde boy. You were an arrogant kid too, so getting along with Bakugou was easy.

Despite the toxic relationship between the two boys, you were there to balance them. Sure, sometimes you’d join the jabbing at Midoriya, but when it gets too much, you were always there to stand up for him. But everything changed (when the fire nation attacked) during the last months of your middle school. Your family died because of a Pro-Hero and you were left with nothing but the scalding hot hate for every Pro-Hero. You stopped attending school because you didn’t want to spend the money your parents left behind on it. What good would it bring you anyway?

You resorted to stealing and being a street child when the money you’ve been keeping with you was stolen. For years, you lived in the streets with rats, under sweltering hot days and stormy nights. Sometimes you’d cry yourself to sleep, wondering if life would be better if you only sought help. For sure Midoriya or Bakugou’s mom would be more than happy to take you in, but your grief turned you blind to the world.

You hear a shout nearby and, using the large ass garbage can you’re propped on, you push yourself up with a wince, your ankle flaring up again. You’re barely walking away when a voice rings on the other end of the alleyway.

“There you are!”

Oh great. Your one and only friend’s soulmate is here. Red Riot barrels toward you, quickly followed by the gradually increasing sound of bombs going off. Your heart stutters when you realize it’s Bakugou. What startles you more is the green-haired hero running along.

“You won’t fucking get away from us!” Ground Zero calls after your quickly retreating form. Good thing the shadow of your cloak obscures the heroes from seeing your face. Ignoring the pain on your ankle, you push through, internally cursing Dabi for leaving you behind like this. You’re a hundred percent sure Shigaraki won’t be happy when he knows.

The wind whistles in your ears as you run away, all sweat and rattling breaths. Blindly stretching your arm behind, you release a laser beam from your hand.

“Kirishima!” Ground Zero shouts in alarm as the sound of a body hitting the concrete reaches your ears. You turn to look back at what happened, and that’s your greatest mistake. The hood of your cloak falls off and you make eye contact the with the Number One hero.

There’s a current that starts at your heart and spreads on the tips of your fingers and toes, shaking your whole body so bad you fall to your knees.

Deku abruptly stops as he feels the same wracking current through his body, almost falling over.

“Y-Y/N?” He stutters in wonder? Hurt? Disappointment? You don’t know. After all, you’re not even sure yourself if your old friend’s soulmate is still alive after that reckless trick you pulled. His eyes are wide as he stares at you, slowly standing up.

The blonde hero whips his head back around from the red-haired man on the ground to you when he hears Deku, gaze hard and cold.

“Fuck you,” he spits as he cradles the unconscious man on his lap, the side of his head bleeding. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

You see it, clear as the day. Bakugou’s right hand is shaking is it sizzles and sparks. But you’re quick, and you’re not thinking, so you raise your arm up before you realize what you’re doing, and a beam of light shoots off your palm again.

He barely dodged it with a heavy weight on his lap, but you’re running off before he blasts an explosion on the wall near where you stood.

“What are you doing fucking standing there!?” You hear him roar before you’re turning the same direction Dabi ran off earlier. “Go after her!”

There are crackles in the air as Deku runs after you. You shouldn’t have looked back. You should have just blasted another laser from your hand. Maybe if you did, you won’t be feeling this－ this guilt. You’re a villain, for fuck’s sake. You’re going to hurt people eventually, but it to be your old best friend’s soulmate? You didn’t ask for that. You didn’t want that.

“Y/N!” Deku calls your name. He’s close. Your feet have nothing against his Quirk so when you see a broken door, you go for it. The stairs leading up seems to go on forever. There’s an ungodly stench wafting through the air, probably a dead cat or something. What did you expect from an old, abandoned building anyway?

Your feet is heavy on the stairs and your breath is labored. There’s a reason why you hated too much running. Plus, the guilt of your unnerving act earlier is not helping.

You’re high up when you hear thumping footsteps following you. Shit. You’re not sure if you can make it out of here alive with your ankle. When you reach the top, it’s a clear room with shards of broken glass and ripped apart planks. There’s another spiral stairs leading to the rooftop. You run, feet banging against the metal steps.

You’re blinded by the light when you fling the metal door open. Running as far away from the door as possible, you’re now standing near the edge. It’s not long before Deku barges in, barely dodging the ray of laser you shot at him.

“Y/N!” He breathes out in relief, gauging your reaction. He reaches out a hand carefully, stance still on guard. “Let’s talk this out.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you snarl. God, it’s so fucking hot here with the sun glaring down at your cloaked form.

“You’re my soulmate!” He cries. It’s not a happy cry. It’s not the kind of tone of someone who just found their soulmate should be like. “Let’s talk this out, please. Like－Like adults. Like old friends.”

You still at the word. Friends. What is a friend? Do you even have friends? The League aren’t your friends. They’re just people who has the same hatred you have for the heroes.

You consider his proposal, hands clutching your cloak tight around your body. You nod curtly and Deku visibly exhales, dropping the defensive hands that were in the air earlier.

“You’re. . . You’re with the League?” He asks, and his expression is unreadable. You nod again. Deku looks down briefly. “I heard your parents died. Why didn’t you tell Kacchan and I?”

You can’t tell him how your hurt turned to anger. You can’t tell him how you didn’t use your head and let your emotions rule you.

“It’s the Pro-Heroes that killed my family. They’re the reason why I was left alone. They took everything from me!” You reply, voice gradually getting louder as the pain blossoms on your chest again. “And you! Both of you! You wanted to be a hero so bad, Bakugou always bragged about how he’s going to be the number one. You were both dreaming of becoming the people that killed my family! And you expect me to come to you?”

Deku is panicking as you throw those words at him, eyes widening again.

“It was just an accident, Y/N!” He counters your shouts. “It was an accident. It was years ago. Can’t you let it go?”

Your eyes are stinging and your hands are hot, the familiar heat of your laser beams moments away from spilling again. “How fucking insensitive,” you bark out. “Is that what becoming the Number One made you? You weren’t the one who lost your family. You weren’t in my place so stop talking like it’s that easy.”

Deku flinches. There’s remorse in his eyes as he whispers, “I’m sorry.”

“If you’re sorry, let me go.”

His eyes widen, palms facing you again as he takes in your words. “N-No! We’re not done talking!”

“There’s nothing else to talk about, Deku,” you scowl, crossing your arms. “If you’re sorry, let me go,” you repeat.

He’s conflicted as his eyes darts from yours to everything else on the rooftop. “Come with me,” he says, desperate. “We’ll－ We’ll start over, and you－ you can become better! You won’t be tied with the League anymore.”

“But I want all the ties I have with the League.” You break his heart right then and there.

Hurt flashes in his eyes, a frown settling on his face. You can’t help but study his features. He’s grown so much. The remnants of the boy Bakugou used to make fun of isn’t here anymore. Standing before you is a determined hero and a brokenhearted man who just wants his soulmate.

“But I need you,” he says, and the words stab at your chest.

“You don’t need me,” you remark, “what you need is that man I may have killed.” You shift on your feet and the pain prickles again. Deku’s eyes falls down on your ankle when you grimace. “If I don’t get killed by you right now, Bakugou definitely will.”

He’s quick to find solutions to your problems. “I’ll protect you!”

That pulls a dry laugh out of you. “I don’t need protection, hero. I fucking need to get away.”

He’s distraught. Running a hand through his hair, his eyes are glassy as he stares you down. “Stay,” he pleads. “I need you more than you think.”

You’re a villain, but being one does not rid you of basic, human feelings. Your chest contracts when his voice shakes. You see the little boy you used to help patch up back then. You see the little boy gazing at you and Bakugou with awe. You see your old friend hurting, and you’re the reason why.

It’s enough to shake any villain awake.

And you’re standing there, eyes locked on your soulmate. Your soulmate. The person you’re destined to love, to live with, to grow old with. Deku is your soulmate, and it settles in your heart right that moment.

“If. . . If I stay, then what?”

There’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes, shining brighter than the scorching sun in this hell of a day. A smile is slowly growing on his face and his freckles are dancing with the way he’s talking so fast. His physical appearance may have changed, but somehow, he’s still the same old Deku who mutters too much.

A gloved hand reaches out towards you. “So. . ?”

The act is intimidating. Your hands twitch on your sides, weighing out your options again. But it’s been years since you felt warmth and love, safety and peace. The League could never give you that.

Your heart is pounding in your ears as you take the first step toward him. A lone sweat trickles down your temple down to your left cheek and that’s when a furious shout thunders through the air, coming with a blast that has you skidding backward. There are rubbles and smoke and a cry from Deku before you realize you’re falling.

Bakugou came crashing on that door with his gauntlets ready to fire, you the target. There’s a high-pitched, steady ringing in your ears and your vision is blurry, the brunt of the explosion too much for you. You weren’t even able to do anything. You didn’t even notice nor hear he was there.

Even if Deku comes to save you, you know it’ll be too late. Maybe Bakugou’s soulmate did die, and you’re going to pay for his life with your own. You’ll never know. You didn’t even know what Deku looked like before you’re falling. But that’s okay, at least before you’re gone in this world, you know someone was ready to take you as you are.

And maybe － maybe heroes aren’t so bad, after all. You just hope Dabi gets what he deserves when Shigaraki finds out you’re dead. And you hope the universe will give Deku another soulmate better than you, since it seems you were a wrong match, because you didn’t even have the chance to feel what it’s like having one.

The pain was only for a split second, like a sprain on the ankle, but a million times worse. But then you’re out like a light, very much resembling the glint in the Number One hero’s eyes as he leans down to see your body lying lifelessly in your own blood.

more notes: big thanks to zee @pixxiesdust​ and zann @savagetrickster​ for betaing this! u guys are the best! 🥺 also, aha, the fact that it’s for deku’s birthday does not stop me from writing angst and break all of your hearts (and his too lol)

[thefanficmonster]

Things Left Unsaid

Daniel x Taylor (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope)

Warnings: Swearing (of course, because Taylor)

Genre: FLUFF

Summary: When Daniel wakes up to find one of his closes girl friends in his bed, snuggled up to him on top of all, in his shirt, on top of that too, he can’t help but admit a thing or two to himself. Too bad he can’t admit it all out loud when the girl’s eyes flutter open.

Requested by my platonic spouse, amazing friend and chaotic fellow cult leader @hopeveon You already know how grateful I am for the request and how sorry I am for not completing it sooner. And you already know how much I love you so ON WITH THE DAYLOR CONTENT! Love, Vy ❤

How did this happen? - Is the first though that passes through a still half-asleep Daniel when he wakes up and finds he’s not tangled in his blankets like he usually is. In fact, the blankets are barely touching him. What little warmth he feels has nothing to do with them, but instead with the other body he appears to be sharing the bed with. The body that just so happens to be snuggled up into his side, head resting on his chest.

The body that has hogged all the blankets.

The second thought, a little less foggy than the previous, comes when said body shifts, causing the blanket to slip and reveal the material of the sleeping attire it’s clad in. That sleeping attire just so happens to be a particularly familiar shirt - his shirt:

Ok, now I gotta now how this happened.

It doesn’t take him a lot of thinking or analyzing to put two and two together and find the identity of the person cuddled up next to him. For starters, he’d never allow anyone else in this position and for seconds - that hair is hard to misidentify.

Taylor

The girl he developed a crush on at the very first glance. The girl he soon sparked a close friendship with - a friendship that he saw as a reason to try an terminate the crush he had on her because he felt it would ruin the amazing connection they had. He was prepared to sacrifice his feelings to keep things between them platonic in fear of losing her completely if he tried to move their relationship up the scale. Problem is, as much as Daniel would like to believe that feelings can so easily be erased, the truth is that the more hits they take the stronger they became. And Taylor hadn’t been helping him much either. Her caring glances, bright smiles, the subtle, probably subconscious touches on his arm. None of that seemed to be as meaningful to her as it was to him, or so he thought.  Daniel would have laughed at himself if he didn’t feel so pathetic - he was the one encouraging his friend Chris to ‘shoot his shot’ and mocked him the countless times he refused and then Taylor entered his life, causing the tables to flip on him.

As time went on though, the tables flipped again and it just so happened to be at a college frat party at the beginning of the year. After two years of friendship, suppressing feelings and desperately trying to beat them out of himself, he was still not the first one to confess anything. A good blow to his ego was that too.

Sitting on the edge of the fountain that was a safe distance away from the fraternity and its chaos, Daniel and Taylor ended up sharing a moment under the starry sky, both way too sober in terms of alcohol, but too drunk on the uncontrollable emotions that were flaring up and spreading throughout them like a wildfire. 

“I feel so childish sometimes.“ She admitted, looking down at her sneakers as she dug the heels of them in the dirt by the fountain, “Always thought I’d grow out of crushes eventually.“

Daniel wasn’t caught off-guard by this, after all, they had been discussing some class gossip to fill in the silence or perhaps to avoid saying something they shouldn’t. The gossip was generally surrounding their classmate Angela and their creative writing professor John, but in all honesty neither of them were interested in it nor did they know a lot about it which is why their conversation ended up straying into personal territory.

“Crushes are not something you grow out of.“ Daniel said in response to that, “They just get easier to deal with. Maybe even easier to confess.“

Taylor shook her head at that, her eyes wide almost as if the statement triggered something in her, “No, no way. They are in no way easier for confessing.”

Despite fully agreeing with this statement, Daniel chooses to play dumb an press the subject further in a teasing manner to cover up just how risky of a topic this is for him, especially when she’s around. “Sounds like you’ve had a personal experience with this struggle. Not one of the brave and the bold, huh?”

“Definitely not! If I were, I would’ve already admitted to you how much I like you.“ She didn’t bother to look at him when she said that, her eyes remained focused on the starry sky above, a small lazy smile playing at her lips.

While she was staring at the stars, the boy sitting next to her was star-struck, head spinning from the sudden confession on her part. He wanted to say something, anything for goodness’ sake! But, alas, he couldn’t. He couldn’t find words in general, let alone the right words to express how he was feeling. Thankfully, humans are more than capable of displaying their emotions through body language as well. 

It’s safe to say Daniel expressed all he felt and more when his lips landed on hers, leading them to share their first kiss in under the moonlight and the shimmering stars while havoc was wreaking less than a block away from them.

After that turning point in their relationship, they have been left in a sort of grey area. You know, the one that’s between platonic and officially romantic. This period that is still the present for the two of them is giving Daniel massive anxieties, doubts, speculations and fears that have kept him sleepless for more nights than he cares to count. He’s never brought it up to Taylor though. Speaking of her, she’s seems rather content, maybe even pleased with their current status of undecided, unlabeled fun. It’s reasonable enough, she was the one to initiate it after all. She said she didn’t like relationships or the label of being someone’s girlfriend, at least not this early on and definitely not in the near future and Daniel respected her view, allowing for their relationship to remain marked with question marks. However, the longer this lasted, the more his intrusive thoughts started to get to him. He’s become apprehensive, overly mindful, doubtful, suspicious and skeptical of every exchange they have. Hell, he hates himself for it but he can’t deny that he’s questioned Taylor’s intentions on more than a few occasions. He knew it was his own fears getting in the way of his rational thinking but he’s only human, he couldn’t help himself.

Taylor didn’t exactly specify why she didn’t want this relationship to be official. She didn’t want to be asked about it either. The two times he had asked she had dodged giving a concrete answer and instead changed the topic, using a vague response as a front to what was going on in her head. Daniel didn’t try and pursue the truth, he knew it had the potential of escalating into an argument, considering Taylor knew how to be rather short-fused.

Little did he know how good of a reason she had.

Every previous relationship she had entered was a train-wreck after a train-wreck. A disaster wrapped in another disaster, often times ending with her and her partner on horrible terms and talking smack behind each other’s backs following the break-up. Since junior year in high school, she hadn’t been in a relationship with a single person she liked liked. It was always a settlement for a person who’d show interest in her first, hoping her feelings would develop as the relationship progressed. Unfortunately, they never did and neither did the relationship - leading to the aforementioned disaster. The few times her and her partner remained friends were considered the successful relationships in her book.

All that taken into account, one would find her reluctance on labeling her relationship with Daniel as official pretty reasonable. She didn’t want to admit her reasoning out loud, thinking it was childish and downright nonsensical, keeping Daniel in the dark about what was going on in her head. This was the first time for her to initiate the start of something of this sort - that in and of itself made this connection between them special. Besides that, this was the first time there was a connection. The first time she liked someone. Liked liked someone. She wasn’t looking forward to starting it just for it to fall apart which is why it took her so long to set it all in motion to begin with. And that’s why now she’s taking things slow. Agonizingly slow. But from her standpoint - perfectly reasonable.

In the middle of his reminiscing, about halfway through his trip down memory lane, he shifts to provide himself a more comfortable position. He was quick to regret that decision though, very very quick, especially when he saw the arm that was previously draped over his chest reach up and run a hand through the short red hair that’s glimmering with the morning rays coming in through the window.

“Shit, sorry for waking you up, T.“ Daniel whispers, his eyes squeezing shut as he cringes at the stutter to his words and the fact he even woke her up, “Go back to sleep, it’s barely 6 AM.“

Taylor shakes his head, surprising him when she ends up snuggling closer to him as though this is a perfectly normal occurrence. “Nah, it’s ok...“ she twists her neck to look up at him, rolling over to have a better view of his face, “You seem like you haven’t been asleep for a while.“

He indeed hasn’t been. He has instead been looking back on all the times they’ve spent together, reading into them and trying to dig out every detail, but he’s of course not gonna say that. She’d probably poke fun at him for being so sentimental and sappy, “No, um, I was just thinking, that’s all.” 

All that thinking did bring something useful to him - the events of last night. How she dropped by to study together and maybe watch a movie on the small crappy TV in his dorm while Andrew is gone for the weekend. How they had started a friendly bicker session regarding their cinematic taste. How they had gotten so close to kissing....when the power went out. Daniel still regrets how much he silently cursed that power shortage - that very shortage happened to be what has led them to this: cuddling together in his bed. Taylor didn’t want to go back to her dorm in the pitch black, not that Daniel was gonna let her do so anyway, so she agreed to stay the night, scolding him for being ridiculous when he offered to sleep on the floor. Oh yeah, she also needed something to sleep in, that’s how she ended up in his shirt. With all the pieces put together, this position of theirs is even more precious in his eyes.

“Thinking bout what? If you keep talking I might end up falling asleep again...“ Taylor presses onward, prying words out of his mouth despite his obvious reluctance.

He can never say no to her, to the point where it’s an actual inconvenience at times, which is why he lets out a long sigh before speaking up again, “Have I ever told you about the first time I caught feelings for you?”

“Nope.“ She mutters, “I’m all ears.“

Daniel inhales deeply, filling his lungs to their upmost capacity as he teleports his mind to that moment two years ago. The moment he first saw her. “It was my third day of classes and I was still in no way an expert at navigating this massive campus so I got lost on my way to the bathrooms in the second building. In my defense, it was my first time there so I couldn’t have found the way even if I was a navigation prodigy.“ He attempts to lighten up the tone with which he’s speaking but to no avail, there’s too much emotion in his voice. The moment he’s describing is too meaningful. “As I was aimlessly roaming the halls in search for any bathroom signs, I heard laughter around the corner. This was a big deal, mind you, cause I hadn’t seen a single soul for a good fifteen minutes. Following the sound, it led me to a group of three people standing by a classroom. You happened to be the only person facing away from me, how ironic.“ He lets out a breathy, humorless chuckle, “Even more ironically, just as I was about to approach your friend group to ask for directions, my roommate popped up out of thin air, calling out my name like the loud doofus he is.“

“Oh yeah I remember. Conrad is a handful. I remember my friends commented on how sorry they felt for you for having to share a dorm with him. You’re lucky he graduated. And by the way, fun fact, since we didn’t know your name we just took to calling you ‘guy in red shirt’. Makes me laugh every time I think back to it“ Taylor snickers, interrupting his story-telling.

“’Guy in red shirt’, huh? I like it. It’s better than Dan, anyway.“ This gets a laugh from her as well, “And that’s when you turned around and that’s when...“

“Wait, that’s it? I turned around and you caught feelings?“ She raises an eyebrow at him, unamused as ever.

“Yes.” No. “That’s when I caught feelings for you.” That’s when I fell in love with you.

Taylor rolls her eyes, resting her head back down on his chest, “Boring! I’m going back to sleep.”

If he could smack himself across the face without looking like an absolute weirdo he would do exactly that. “Sure, probably for the better...” I don’t wanna appear an even bigger idiot than I already have.

And so so many things remain unsaid yet again. But perhaps there will come a day when he’ll admit them to her and not only to himself.

One can only hope.

@artlovingbre  @megandaisy9  @sparrow-gg

[melissart]

Date Night

Terry x Korvo Solar Opposites fanfiction!

Rating: M

Warnings: Alien sex stuff, Korvo cries during sex a lot, NSF*W

Genre: romance, comedy, hurt/comfort

Words: 3,852

Summary: “Couples go to scheduled fancy dinners to help keep their relationship alive.“

Korvo paced around the backyard with his Element Detector.

Beep… beep… beep… 

Nothing. 

There were no useful elements on Earth! Of all the 118 elements that Earth discovered, everything just had to be carbon-based. Korvo had enough carbon to last the destruction of five planets. What he needed was the isotope Megeon-166--or as it’s called on Earth, Erbium. He needed at least 15 moles to repair the ship and, of course, nobody was helping him. What was the point in being mad, anymore? He knew nobody would help him but it never got any less frustrating. 

Terry slid open the back door while cradling a tray of Starbucks™ frappuccinos in one arm. “Korvo!” he called out. “Got your favorite--matcha frappuccino!” 

No, that’s not right--Terry did help. Just in a different way. Only Terry knew how to get everyone’s Starbucks™ drinks right. 

Korvo tossed the Element Detector over his shoulder and took his frappuccino. Oh, the first sip was always the best. The whipped cream was at the bottom just the way he liked it. 

Terry just… stood there and watched him drink the frappuccino. He wasn’t even going to sip his own untouched pink drink. He was waiting for a specific response from Korvo. Probably one that was two words and began with a “T”. 

Korvo sighed. He had to relent. “Thank y--” 

“--Do you know what day it is today?” Terry quickly blurted out. He was unusually excited. 

Korvo paused for a second. The effects of the Dumb Ray still hadn’t subsided completely. “Friday?”  Was he forgetting something? It couldn’t possibly be their anniversary. 

“That’s right! It’s the first Friday of the month! That means it’s date night!” 

“That is ridiculous. Every night occurs on a date.”

 Terry laughed and put his hand on Korvo’s shoulder. Everything was a joke to him. “That gets funnier every time!”

Korvo brushes Terry’s hand off of him. It seems that Korvo has forgotten what “date night” was. Ten blasts of a Dumb Ray does that to you. “Explain it to me again.” 

“Couples go to scheduled fancy dinners to help keep their relationship alive.” 

Evidently, Terry has explained this concept multiple times. There were no side tangents, no movie references, and no headaches. “I am satisfied with our relationship.” Korvo sunk into himself and slightly turned away. “Are… you… not satisfied?” 

Terry erupted into an even louder bout of laughter and slapped his knee. “Hah! That gets funnier every time, too! It’s for fun, Korvo. I already made reservations at your favorite restaurant for 8PM.” 

“But, I--” 

Terry was already heading back inside to give Jesse and Yumyulack their drinks. “Make sure you wear something nice this time!” 

Korvo racked his mind for any memories of going on a date night with Terry, but there was nothing. Korvo didn’t realize how harsh the effects of the Dumb Ray were. He felt like an idiot. Maybe it was like the NBC show Dateline. He had some researching to do. If Terry found out Korvo’s memory was still foggy, Korvo would surely get locked up again. 

Terry was about to go on the best date night of his short, pathetic life. 

--- 

It was 7:50 PM, Terry was already dressed in his favorite pink button-up with the top button unbuttoned and jeans, and Korvo was nowhere to be found. To make things worse, Korvo took the car so Terry couldn’t even go to the nearest Jack in the Box to drown his sorrows in a $5 munchie meal. It was uncharacteristic of Korvo to forget about date night, especially when he reminded Korvo just earlier. Perhaps, he wondered, the Dumb Ray effects had not subsided yet.

He went into the replicants��� bedroom to ask them if they knew where Korvo was, but they were gone. That’s right, they were at a party and said they wouldn’t be back home until midnight. Terry was alone at the house. Bored. Bored in the house and in the house bored--just as how that TikTok prophesied. 

There were three loud knocks on the front door. Terry groaned. “Coming!” He wasn’t in the mood to entertain the neighbors. 

Terry opened the door to find a bouquet of a dozen red roses being shoved into his face. It was Korvo, all dressed up in a tuxedo as if he was about to get married. 

“I have arrived to date night you,” Korvo declared. 

Terry happily accepted the bouquet. “Sick plants, dude! I didn’t know they came in red.” 

“Red means love.” 

“Cool! Should I plant them?” 

“No, you put them in a vase with water.” 

“Hmm…” Terry stared at the stems. “I don’t know, Korvo, don’t plants need dirt?” 

“Why would I--” Korvo stopped himself and took a deep breath. He had to be charismatic. “You put them in a vase, you look at them for a couple days, and then they die.” 

“Aww…” Now Terry was bummed out. He hated reminders of his planned obsolescence and inevitable death. “What’s the point of it, then?” 

“Because they’re red, Terry!” Korvo’s fury was quick to resurface. “Red means love!” 

“Okay, fine, but you don’t have to yell!” 

Korvo hated himself. Stupid. He was already ruining their date night. 

----

Jazz music played softly in the background. It would have been relaxing if it weren’t avant-garde jazz. It was times like these that made Korvo pray for the Pupa to eat everyone and terraform the planet, already. He had no idea how the cacophony he was hearing could possibly be classified as music. There was no discernible key signature, no rhythm, no melody, no dynamics--it was literally just a collection of instruments blasting away and competing with each other to see who could best resemble a dying animal. 

“What the hell is this?” he grumbled. 

Terry was busy looking through the menu. “‘Om’ by John Coltrane.” 

Korvo was taken aback by the answer. He didn’t know Terry listened to this kind of noise. Even TV static sounded more harmonious. “What’s the point of it?” The thought of someone sitting in a recording studio and blasting terrible screeches into a microphone was enough to make someone gloober. 

“Uh, to piss off people like you, duh!” Terry scoffed. “Just relax a little, okay, Korvy?” He reached across the table to put his hand over Korvo’s. 

Korvo stared down at Terry’s hand and pondered for a moment. He curled his fingers over Terry’s hand. “I see… So what you’re saying is that music acts as a medium not only to organize patterns and produce a conventionally pleasing aesthetic, but also to defy those same standards and redefine the purpose of music through an ironic lens?” 

“That’s jazz, baby!” For emphasis, Terry does jazz hands with his free hand. 

Korvo leaned in and clasped his other hand over Terry’s. “You know a lot about music,” he comments. A loving smile curled the corners of his mouth upwards. 

Terry smirked. “Well, I did major in music when we went to community college… Remember when we did that? That was fun.” 

Korvo’s smile dropped. “You did?” He had no idea. 

“Yeah, I majored in percussion performance. I was trying to get into a drumline, like in the movie Whiplash. Don’t you remember? I even invited you to my winter and spring recital.” 

Korvo genuinely could not recall anything after Terry referencing Whiplash. This wasn’t on the Dumb Ray, this was clearly on his own negligence. “Oh.” Now that he thought about it, Terry was really good at drumming. 

Terry withdrew his hand and crossed his arms. He sighed, slumped into his seat, and looked away forlornly. “It’s okay, you were probably busy working on the ship… The mission is always the highest priority.” He was already conditioned to expect disappointment when telling Korvo anything about his personal ambitions. It was Wetzel’s Pretzels all over again. 

“It is...” Korvo agreed. 

Terry felt his heart sink. 

“... but you’re a high priority to me, too.” 

Before Terry could respond, their waiter interrupted to take their orders. “Seafood platter for him, fettuccine chicken alfredo pasta for me, and your biggest bottle of wine.” 

“Of course, sir.” The waiter took their menus away and left to relay the orders to the kitchen. 

Fuck, Korvo loved it when Terry ordered for the both of them. It made him feel slightly lesser. He tugged at his neck collar. 

“You know… I didn’t actually want to be a Pupa Specialist,” Terry quietly confessed. “I wish I could’ve been a music major on Shlorp.” 

“You could’ve,” Korvo reminded him, “but you’d be dead.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know...” 

Korvo watched Terry slump further into his seat. He was blowing it. Again. Discreetly, he took out his phone on his lap and pulled up a Wikihow article he had bookmarked on Safari: “How to Get Guys to Like You More when You Go on a date”. He skipped to step 3, “Be conversational.” Korvo cleared his throat. “Um… I wanted to be a biologist on Shlorp.” 

“Aren’t you already a biologist?” Terry argued. “Science is like, your whole gimmick.” 

“I’m an electrical engineer. I work with technology. I only got to take a few biology courses but my schedule was so loaded since I was a math/physics/engineering triple major, so I had no time to declare a minor in biology.” 

Terry laughed. “You sure dodged a bullet! Pupa Specialists had to take a shitton of bio classes, and let me tell you, the only silver lining is the sex unit.”

“There’s a sex unit?” 

“Yeah! Meiosis, DNA, best positions, tongue stuff… Jesse was conceived during that unit!” Terry smiled fondly, as if it were a normal sweet memory to be nostalgic of. “Ooh, ooh, how was Yumyulack conceived?” 

“With my right hand and a magazine at a lab.” Korvo didn’t realize there was anything more to it than that. “Tell me more about this unit,” he demanded. 

“Okay, so on the first day of class, our lab experiment for the day is to analyze genetic fluids, but wait! Our old tree professor forgot to order enough sample genetic fluids for the entire class! But, it turns out that collecting genetic fluids is the real lab experiment! Of course, I’m just sitting there with my lifemate, confused as hell, while the TA’s start to unbutton their robes…” 

------

Terry and Korvo laughed as they stumbled out of the restaurant together, holding hands and swinging it between them. When Terry asked for their biggest bottle of wine, they sure did deliver. Behind them, the warm glow of the restaurant faded away as they searched for their car. 

Terry wiped away tears of mirth with the back of his hand. “So I said, ‘You wouldn’t know one if you saw one!’” 

Korvo dropped the car keys as he erupted in more laughter. “Hohoheehoihoiheehoihoi! You sure told him! That was something that you told him, alright!” 

Korvo and Terry crouched down to reach for the car keys at the same time. They both groped around the spinning ground until their hands met. They looked up at each other with the same dazed, lovesick look in their eyes. 

Within seconds, they were sloppily making out. Terry had so much to drink that he couldn’t even feel where his body started and Korvo’s ended. All he could taste was wine and seafood. He felt Korvo topple over, putting Terry on top of him, straddling Korvo’s hips between his legs. Their tongues swirled around each other as Korvo moaned and dug his fingers onto the back of Terry’s shirt. The sidewalk was cold, but their bodies were hot enough to compensate. 

Terry pulled away and fumbled to unbutton his shirt. 

“Woah, woah, woah--I think we should, should go home first.” Korvo slowly sat himself up. 

“You can’t even drive!” 

“Of course I can!” Korvo declared, unintentionally flicking specks of saliva onto Terry’s face as he spoke. “W-We’re aliens! Our bodies… they got high tolerance… Alcohol sharpens our senses!” He pushed Terry off of him and crawled over to the car keys. 

Terry helped him up. “That doesn’t sound so right, but I don’t know enough to argue with that!” 

Korvo waved the car key fob in the air and pressed the lock button repeatedly, struggling to hear where their car was. “Beep beep! Beep beep! Beep beep!” he called out, as if it were a dog that could respond and come running over. “Fuck, where’d I park?” 

Terry turned Korvo around to face their car. 

“Oh shiiit, found it!” 

Korvo clicked the unlock button a few dozen times, then they let themselves in. Neither of them bothered to strap in their seatbelts.

-----

As soon as their bedroom door was shut and locked, Korvo and Terry started hurriedly undressing each other. Terry kissed Korvo’s neck as he loosened his bowtie while Korvo yanked Terry’s shorts down and began unbuttoning his shirt. 

“Fuuuck, Terry,” Korvo raspily moaned out. “I-I want you to dominate me! Dominate me, Terry! Make me your slut!” 

“Yeah, you’re a little slut, huh?” Terry palmed Korvo’s mound. “My fucking whore needs to be taught a lesson?” 

Korvo bucked his hips into Terry’s hand. “Yes, Terry!” he groaned. “Teach me a lesson!” 

Terry swept Korvo off his feet in one motion and carried him to the bed. As soon as he dropped him, he crawled on top of Korvo and tugged Korvo’s dress pants down. Korvo’s rootstalk was eager to be exposed, wriggling out of its hole to meet Terry’s tongue. Terry gave the thick root one long, slobbering, lick up the shaft and to the tip. “Alright, Korvy, pop quiz--what’s the powerhouse of the cell?” 

Korvo didn’t respond. 

“Wait, Korvo, you do know what the powerhouse of the cell is, don’t you?” Terry heard a small sob. He looked up at Korvo, who was covering his blushing face, wet and shiny from fresh tears. Terry crawled away from between Korvo’s legs and to his side. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he whispered gently. He coaxed Korvo’s hands away from his face. 

Of course, being asked what was wrong only made Korvo cry harder and curl away. “I-I-I forgot!” he wailed. “I f-forgot what the powerhouse of the cell is! W-What is it? I have no f-f-fucking clue!”

Terry hugged him from behind. “It’s okay, baby, it doesn’t matter! It’s just the mitochondria.” 

“I-I just… I just feel so dumb. I’ve been waiting weeks for my intelligence to fully recover ever since you hit me with the Dumb Ray, but… but that’s it. This is as smart as I ever was before! And I’m fucking s-s-st-stu-stupid!” 

Terry squeezed him harder while he sobbed and wailed and gooblered all over the both of them. “There, there, Korvo.” He knew the drill. Korvo cried during sex all the time--something about the physical release of his genetic fluids seemed to trigger an emotional catharsis in him. This time was unusually early, though. They hadn’t even finished foreplay. “Do you want some ice cream?” 

“N-No, let’s continue having sex,” Korvo insists. 

“But you’re crying--” 

“--Well, I’m still horny!” He tried to dry his eyes, but it was a Sisyphean task. 

“Alright, fine, but talk about your feelings while I’m sucking you off.” Terry crawled back over to Korvo’s crotch and continued where he left off--licking the thick root all over, from bottom to top. He began sucking the tip of it, which wriggled slightly as it grew more. 

Korvo panted heavily. “O-O-Oh my g-god…” Hot pleasure took over him. “Well, I wanted to be a biologist on Shlorp, but…” He interrupted himself with a loud moan when Terry started deep-throating his root. “Hohhhmygod! Oh, Terry! Fuck, it feels so good!” He felt his root lengthening more and wriggle down Terry’s throat. “Terry, Terry, Terry… I’m gonna--ohhh, fuck…” 

Terry gave a small grunt of surprise when Korvo’s genetic fluids began squirting down his throat. He could just barely taste the sweet, floral nectar as he swallowed. There was so much to swallow down. Korvo was always so repressed--he was always too busy studying repair manuals to jerk off every now and then. 

Korvo felt dizzy from the waves of pleasure still crashing over him after his release. “Terry, I love y--”

“--What happened?” Terry interrupted. 

“Huh?” 

“What happened to being a biologist?” Terry asked again. “I mean, you could’ve just not majored in so many majors in the first place, right?” 

Korvo grabbed a spare pillow and put it over his face. “It’s not important anymore, never mind,” he said, muffled. 

“Korvo, c’mon, I won’t tell you my secret sex techniques if you don’t tell me your tragic backstory.” 

Korvo uncovered his face. “Tell me,” he demanded.

“You first!” 

Korvo took a moment to decide if it was truly worth opening up about his deepest, darkest insecurities just for sex. It was a very short moment. “I got a B+ in Intro to Biology my first year.” 

Terry waited for further explanation, but there was nothing more. “B+ isn’t a bad grade?” 

“I know!” Korvo snapped. “But I-I freaked out! That was my first B in a class, ever! And now we’re stuck on Earth and the Pupa could destroy us all any second and it’ll be all my fault because I wasn’t smart enough to fix the ship! And I’m not even smart enough to understand why the Pupa is 670C because I got freaked out over a B! And now we’re all going to die!” Gooblers danced all over their bedsheets. 

“Korvo, baby, relax!” He wiped away Korvo’s tears. “Even if you quadruple-majored in biology/math/physics/engineering, we’d still be on Earth because you couldn’t fix the ship. It doesn’t matter!” 

Korvo buried his face into Terry’s chest and gave out a strangled scream. 

Terry laughed to himself. “I mean, what’s the point of studying so much if you can’t even fix the ship?” He stroked the back of Korvo’s head lovingly. “I was able to fix a lavatic reactor in just a few minutes of reading one of your dumb manuals!” One of the gooblers popped straight into his eye. “Ow! Okay, I’m sorry! I guess the point is, uh… I’ll help you fix the ship. How does that sound?” 

The gooblers finally came to a stop. “You will?” 

“Anything to get you to stop crying during sex…” Terry grumbled.

Korvo began showering Terry with kisses. “Oh, Terry! Thank you! Mwah, mwah! Thank you so much! There’s so much I still have yet to diagnose in the ship--the catalytic nasprober, the psionic cholecystosanitizer, the carcino-fibrillator, the hexylgraph, the blinkers--” 

The list went on and on and on and on and on. Terry didn’t realize how much was wrong with the ship until now. He started to understand why Korvo was so stressed out all the time. Korvo had spent hours every day working on the ship for over a year, and this entire time Terry assumed that Korvo was just bad at repairing. 

There had to be an end to this. Terry slowly crawled back over to Korvo’s root, still wet with saliva and nectar genetic fluids, and began sucking at it again. It was only a matter of seconds until Korvo was back to being a squirming, moaning mess.

Korvo rested his hand on Terry’s head. “T-T-Terry, T-Terry! Oh, Terry!” 

After Terry deemed it wet enough, he finally gave his mouth a break. “Okay, don’t freak out,” he warned Korvo. 

“Why should I not freak out?” Korvo asked, freaking out already. 

“I’m gonna try a special Shlorpian sex technique on you.” 

Korvo has only ever had sex with Terry the traditional way--humping and twisting their roots around each other. “It won’t hurt, will it?” 

“Hmm--well--um---I wouldn’t say hurt?” 

“I do not like your hesitance.” 

“Okay, okay, okay! So, you twist up your partner’s root into a spiral-cone-thing, tuck that into their root-hole, and fuck it like a pussy, basically.” 

The image of it was vivid in Korvo’s head. It sounded so… demeaning and aggressive. “Okay.” 

Terry kissed him. “I love you!” He licks Korvo’s root and tries to coat as much saliva as he can on it before twisting the root as tight as he can. This, of course, is not the part where it hurts because their roots do not have pain receptors. With his other hand, he gently pries open Korvo’s root hole. 

Korvo groaned. He felt so violated in a way he had never felt before. It felt so lewd to have Terry stretch his root hole open. He bites his tongue when Terry starts fingering him. “Mmghh…!” It hurt so good. 

“Damn, Korvo, you’re so tight. Tighter than Honey Boo Boo’s training bra!” 

“Oh, shut up.” 

“Seriously, you make Terri look like a corner street hooker! Because you’re so tight, get it?” 

“Yes, Terry. I get it.” 

Terry lapped at Korvo’s hole, then stuck the tip of his tongue in. Breathy moans spilled out of Korvo as he clencher himself around Terry’s tongue. Terry went back to sucking on Korvo’s root while slowly pushing his finger inside of Korvo’s hole. Korvo’s moans crescendoed with every millimeter Terry pushed in. Terry tried to wriggle his finger and stretch out Korvo’s hole as much as he could before squeezing in another one. 

“Ahh… Ahh! T-Terry! Oh my god--Terry! Mmphh!” Korvo grinded his hips against Terry’s fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! T-Th-That feels s-so good!” He was close to cumming all over again. 

Terry took his mouth off of Korvo’s root and began twirling the root around his finger. He wasn’t one to brag, but it was known that he had the best root-twirling technique in his class. Korvo’s root was, thankfully, very flexible and easily conformed to the twirled form. Terry quickly shoved the root as deep into Korvo’s hole as possible. There was a soft squelch underneath Korvo’s grunts. Terry got on top of Korvo, pinned Korvo’s arms over his head, and kissed him as he gently pushed his root inside of Korvo. 

Korvo wrapped his legs around Terry’s hips. He finally understood the human concept of “heaven” and it was Terry holding him down and jack-hammering away at his hole. Within seconds, he was already cumming. His root clenched hard around Terry’s and squirted more lubrication for Terry to penetrate even deeper and harder. 

It wasn’t long until Terry cummed, too. His hot nectar filled Korvo up and leaked all over both of their groins. He slowed down, then eventually paused. This was usually around the time when Korvo started to cry again. He rested his sweaty forehead against Korvo’s. “Korvo?” 

The waterworks came back. “Terry, I love you so much! I-I-I’m sorry I keep crying d-during s-s-sex!” 

“It’s okay, I love you too.” He accepted more tear-stained kisses. “Do you wanna keep going?” 

Korvo shook his head no. 

Terry got off of Korvo and hugged Korvo and patted his back while he cried. “It’s okay, Korvy… I love you a lot, too! We have a house and replicants and a cute little Pupa--we really nailed this whole family thing, huh?” 

All in all, Terry would say that it was a very successful date night. 

[luhlust]

Lost but Found a Mystic Messenger Scenario

Pairing: Zen/Hyun Ryu X Reader

Overview: You are a sheltered daughter of a wealthy man who escaped through the help of a red haired hacker.

Note: This is part 1! Enjoy :)

•-—-•

The sun's rays peek through the curtains of your room somehow blinding you in your sleep. You let out a few grunts, annoyed at the sudden disturbance that forced you to sit up in disdain. Mornings are something you are and most definitely will never be fond of. Waking up felt like a chore especially during those days were all your body long for is stay under the comforts of the fluffy sheets on your bed.

You yawned softly, stretching your arms in the process of adjusting yourself to the brightness in the room, hearing faint sounds of footsteps walking pass your bedroom door—you wonder what time is it. Your head turned towards your clock that read 7:15 AM and the date, Saturday.

Just one glance, that is all it took for you to bolt out of your room getting rid off any traces of drowsiness in an instant. "God..," you blurted out upon being greeted by the large steps of stairs that you hate greatly. Without wasting another second, you hurriedly step down from several flights with your nightgown held up by your hands to prevent any unwanted accidents.

"Pardon me!" You yelled out, alarming different people along the long hallways in the mansion you call as your home. Exerting maximum effort, you are able to dodge both human and non-human obstacles along your way with ease, earning a surprise gasp every so often. 

No one knew why the lady of the house is running at full speed barefooted even. You almost look like you were being chased by danger itself.

Then again, it is not an unusual scene. They brushed it off as another one of your shenanigans, all of them are used to you being a magnet for trouble where you are always finding ways to either be threatened or be the threat. Handful as a child, all those involved with you can testify with that and they cannot entirely blame you though.

You, who is being stuck inside 24/7 a mansion all the days of your life filled with servants and maids that you are not able to even converse with, it is no surprise. No matter how big of a space one is confide in, a prisoner will always feels imprisoned.

Your father is a strict man with a strict set of rules in which your life revolved around in. Everything is made to be prepared for you—schedules, outfits, and meal plans, every single thing, it is all controlled.

If you do not comply, punishment is to be expected ranging from mild ones like a time-out or being locked up, to severe and physical ones but not to the point where you are hurt. God forbid that you are ever laid hands on or to even get a strand of a hair plucked out on you! Your dad went ballistic once and fired every single employee in charged of you when you fell down from a high platform and scraped your back, leaving a small but visible scar.

Your father hired several personal bodyguard for you and a guardian whose job is to keep an eye in you. Your guardian made sure you are to follow your schedules and being productive in your studies; his punishments does not seem too bad anymore.

All the days of the week, you are stuck with her. You even got all her lines and the way she scold you in your head. You could even recite them in front of her. 

The day you met her is the day you were deprived of independence.

You could not hate your father though despite the differences in the two of you. He is the one who took you in after your parents abandoned you and he had done nothing but treat you and give you the best of the best!

You know he still cares for you even under his cold demeanor. But, there is a price for everything.

You are not allowed to step foot outside the mansion no matter what reason you give unless your father is to tell you so.

This is the rule your father placed countless of measures to make sure it is not to be broken by anything. You have never even seen an door to the outside in your mansion and that is coming from someone who is in a constant look out for it.

This lead you to harbor ill feelings towards your father. 

It started with fighting with him and questioning his actions.

Sure, you did experience hell but now, you can say it was all worth it.

Months of rebellion gave you the opportunity to be proud and say that your father granted to give you a day to yourself where you do not have to do anything that is tasked for you. He figured it would help increase your productivity rate and you hate to admit but it does work.

After a short discussion on the lengths of your proposal, bargaining and meeting in the middle included, he is pleased to see how you developed in subjects more specifically in languages, arts, technology, and almost anything except your charm class that bores you the most. 

Your excuse? You are just not ladylike at all!

Today is one of those days where you can freely roam around the mansion with the most plain dress in your wardrobe that did not irritate you in any sort of way. Considering your situation, you always joked how maybe you are of royalty or some sort since you are practically treated like a princess with your frilly dresses and lessons teaching you good manners where slouching is even a crime!

It is not your fault that you act this way, you just cannot force yourself to be who you are not.

Your father insisted it was for the best and that was it. You would understand him more if you are aware of his intentions but he hardly says anything about it other than you should follow him, frustrating you more. His excuse became less credible as the day passed.

You could not help but hate your life, why in the world is it forbidden for you to go outside? Your adventurous soul aches in solidarity though you do acknowledge his concern for your safety after-all, he is a powerful man with different enemies and you could be a catalyst of a battle between them.

Still, with all those in consideration, it is not enough to justify on why you are to spend your life in the mansion solely. Sometime, you think that your father value his desires more than you in which you regret after you are reminded of things you are to be grateful of, dismissing the prior statement with a sigh escaping your lips.

Yes, you are blessed to be privileged in living this life but if you are to be given a choice, you rather die outside in your own adventure than to rot inside the mansion waiting for death itself to take you.

"Still in your nightgown and even barefooted, if it isn't one of your so-called 'me days,' I would give you several lectures for today, Lady (y/n)." You rolled your eyes at the sight of your guardian prepping your breakfast. She turned her back, slicing some fruit you hardly recognize. A grin slowly took place on your lips as you stuck out your tongue at her, unaware that your reflection can be seen through the silverware.

"I saw that." Your guardian scolded, you puffed out your cheeks and crossed your arms. Well, that backfired. "Of course she did." You uttered to yourself, maybe your theory that your guardian has an third eye on her back is true since she is very aware of what you are doing even when her back is turned.

You grimaced at the monstrous green drink that she blended out for you. Your motto in life: anything that is green is not to be trusted with in terms of flavor! Your guardian seemed to have read your mind, pushing the glass and the bowl of low-fat cereal mixed with different fruit, saying, "Eat everything up. Do not even try to outsmart me."

Defeated, you are do as you told and prayed to all the gods you know before chugging down the poisonous green drink. You immediately tried to wash away the after taste with cold water, making a mental note to mess with her before the day ends. 

Your guardian have left you alone, much to your relief, she is off to supervise the other worker. You do not really care what she is or who she is as long as she is out of your sight.

Out of sight, out of mind, you continued to eat your flavour-less breakfast, mind in the state of daydreaming and excitement at the day ahead. 

After filling yourself up, you cautiously walked around the mansion.

You know your father is a secretive person, you do not actually have other information about him other than he is rich and he has adopted you.

That being said, the mansion has it fair share of secrets too and being the nosy person you are, you may or may not have find a blueprint of the mansion and is knowledgeable about a secret passageway to the outside.

It has been already been a month and you actually have not discover a single clue on where the passageway is located! The secret passageway really lives up to its name.

You cannot rule out the possibility that it is not the updated version of the mansion and renovations may have been done but giving up is not an option for you.There is nothing better to do anyways, you are glad to be having your fun in your own adventure. Its either this or nothing.

“I don’t think I have been in this part of the mansion before, wait, where exactly am I?!” You brought out your sketch in which you have a copy of the blueprint drawn by yourself beforehand as bringing the blueprint will surely attract attention and that is something you would like to avoid for the rest of your life.

You are definitely skilled in arts, it piqued your interest as you believe it brings out the best in you, a you that you never really knew you had.

A you, in which can only be expressed through the stroke of your brush. You used to paint all day in the indoor garden, different colors stained not only the canvas but the painter itself, ruining several dresses that made your guardian does not approve of your leisure activity.

“Why did I draw this so poorly!” You complained upon being confused of your sketch. Looking around, trying to see if there is anything that would stand out and would somehow make you remember in which part of the mansion you are in.

After analyzing for a good 5 minutes, you can confirm that you are lost as everything looks foreign to you.

Throwing the piece of paper on the ground out of annoyance, you did your best to calm yourself down. “I should retrace my steps, that will help right?” You talked to yourself, it is a habit that a has grown on you since you do not really have anyone to converse with at the first place—the maids and servants are all too boring and too scared to talk to you.

You turned around, only to see a shadow lurking at the end that quickly vanish as soon as your eyes set on it. All the hair in your body felt like standing up, anxiety creep in your heart and mind, “What was that?” You stood frozen, not sure, if your mind is playing tricks or you.

You slowly approached the corner, mind disarrayed with questions. Was it a ghost? Is the mansion haunted as well? Or is it an intruder?

Whatever it may be, you are scared shit-less. Now, you are someone who is taught that cursing, in any form, is unpleasant. "Triple fucking shit," but that does not mean you do not curse.

Your breath stilled, it was empty, the halls are empty; not a single object in sight. Letting out a nervous chuckle, you settled with seeing something out of the creativity of your mind. Surely it is impossible for an intruder to get inside, you cannot even go out.

Ghosts are another story though.

“Lady (y/n)! Your father is looking for you!” You screeched, surprised to see one of the maids behind you, panting heavily which you somehow feel guilty for. “A-Ah yes! I’m sorry, I got lost and I-” You took another look at where you saw the shadowed figure is, the maid followed the trail of your eyes, confused on why you looked like you saw something you should not have.

“Lady (y/n)? Your father said it is an emergency.” You snapped out of your gaze, smiling sheepishly before following the maid who is escorting you to your father. “Wait, father..?” What does your father want with you? Your guardian did not really say anything about meeting him today, or did she? You racked your mind with possible reasons on what the agenda today might be. “Don’t tell me...he found out about the blueprint?” Your face paled, breath hitching at the opening of the door. 

You definitely screwed up.

“Sir, I have brought Lady (y/n).” The two of you bowed out of respect for your father who merely nodded, taking this as a hint for the maid to excuse herself out, leaving the two of you alone in silence.

“You requested my presence, father?” You questioned, taking a seat situated in front of his desk. "Yes, I am truly sorry for ruining your scheduled break my child but something important came up, please do understand," he brought out a folder with files clipped inside, placing them on his wooden desk.

“What is this father?” You grabbed the files, skimming through the pages. It was a bio-data of a CEO, perhaps your father’s new business partner? 

“As you might have guess, that is the company’s newest thresholder. Today is the contract signing and they asked for you to be there as well.” Your ears perked up, eyes blinking in disbelief over realizing what your father is implying.

“Are you telling me, you're taking me outside?” You asked for confirmation, your father could not help but find your reaction humorous. Your eyes were similar to a deer caught in headlights; only you are excited to see the headlights. Your father pressed the buzzer, speaking over the microphone connected to the speakers of the mansion, “All (y/n)'s personal maids are to be called and to aid in helping (y/n) get ready for a special meeting in an hour. Good day.” 

The door swung open, your guardian immediately dragged you out of the room and sent you straight to have a proper bath. As soon as your father was no longer in sight, your guardian began to remind you about your lectures about basic etiquette in which you let it pass through one ear and out to the other. “I'm going outside,” you softly spoke, your guardian sighed seeing how you were completely out of it but that did not stop her from letting out a small smile that was immediately replaced with a scowl. 

“Lady (y/n) we do not have time to daydream! Strip!”  

“W-Wai-No! Stop!”

[jamesdeerest]

keep your friends close...

pairing: harry hook x reader

request: anon asked “Heya can i please request a harry hook x reader fic where they're kinda frenemies (maybe she's peter pans daughter? Or Wendy darlings and shes from auradon?) And she steals his hook so he chases her and it ends in a tickle fight and he lets it slip that he likes her laugh or smile and she gets really embarrassed cause they're supposed to hate each other? Thank youuuu :*”

notes: sorry this took so long nonnie!!

warnings: swearing

word count: 1.2k

“And this is Y/N!” Ben smiled at you, as you jerked up, rubbing sleep from your eyes. “Hm? What’s happening?” you slurred, your brow scrunching in confusion, before your eyes focused back on your exercise book. You slumped in defeat, picking up your pen and resting your head in your hand, glaring holes in the revision questions, not noticing the amused group in front of you.

Ben winced, leading Uma, Harry and Gil away from you. “Let’s just say she’s feeling the effects of exam season. She’s normally a ray of sunshine.” 

Uma crossed her arms, smirking. “I thought everyone here was supposed to be a ray of sunshine? Auradon’s all about that happy-clappy bullcrap.”

Ben raised an eyebrow when she swore, but brushed it off. “Just because we’re the kids of the heroes, doesn’t mean we all are, alright?”

Uma laughed. “Oh, I know that. You all think you are, though. Acting like you’re so much better than us Isle kids-- what have you ever done?”

Ben spluttered, reddening. “That’s not true! None of us- well,” he paused, biting his lip. “Okay, the majority of us don’t think that!”

Uma snorted, walking off with Gil and Harry in tow. “Yeah- well, Your Majesty, I’ll believe that when I see it.”

You sprinted out your dorm room, your bag fighting to stay on your arm as you tore a brush through your hair. You ran into the empty dining hall, grabbing a croissant and ran out again, stuffing it into your mouth, cursing your faulty alarm all the while. You stopped outside your Maths classroom, catching your breath, straightening out your clothes and wiping off any crumbs, before you pushed the door open, muttering a sheepish ‘sorry’ to the teacher.

You paused, looking for any empty seats, and found one at the back, weaving through tables and trying not to hit people with your bag, before sinking down into the seat, grabbing your stuff, leaning over to the desk next to you to copy up what you had missed.

However, you were shoved back. “What are you doing?”

You looked up, confused, and only became more confused at the boy sitting next to you. Either your memory was really fuzzy, or you had never seen him before. “Sorry?”

He glared at you. “I said, what are you doing?”

You stared blankly at him. “Copying up the notes? What are you doing?”

“Don’t be a smartarse. Leave me alone.” he growled, turning back to the front.

“Leave you alone?! I haven’t done anything, you stuck up pri-”

Mrs Taylor cleared her throat, cutting you off. “Everything alright back there, Pan, Hook?”

You quickly nodded, sitting up straight and smiling innocently. “Fine, Mrs Taylor. I just dropped my pen.”

She nodded, eyeing you, and turned back to the whiteboard. You whipped your head round, glaring at the Hook boy. “You’re welcome, Hook.” you sniped, before leaning over to the girl on your left to copy her notes. 

Harry, however, was frozen. Pan?!

The next day, Harry was walking through the halls to his least favourite class- Remedial Goodness, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Swinging round, he saw the smirking face of Chad Charming, and internally groaned. “Yes?” he drawled, eyebrow raised.

Chad laughed, his face smug. “Didn’t anyone tell you, Hook? Guyliner was out last- oh wait, it was never in.” His mates jeered behind him, and Harry was about to teach him a lesson when you slid in between them, glaring up at Chad. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you, Charming? Being a dumb rich kid was out last- oh wait, it was never in. Go throw your money around somewhere else- maybe you can buy more friends.” you scowled, a victorious glint in your eye as Chad chuckled nervously. “Sorry, Y/N.”

You raised an eyebrow, staring him down until he scrambled off. You turned round, grinning at Harry. “You’re welcome.”

He sighed, walking off, making you jog to keep up. “I had it handled.”

“Sure you did, Hooky.” Harry sighed again, fighting off a smile. 

“Shut up, Panny.” he said, immediately cringing. You laughed. “Panny? How about Y/N?”

Harry just grumbled as you giggled, ignoring the judgemental eyes following you as you walked. You paid no attention to them, and Harry tried not to either. Emphasis on the tried.

The next Maths lesson, Harry was the one to burst in five minutes late, hair a mess. You laughed softly, moving your bag off his desk so he could sit down.

“Saving my seat, are we?” he muttered, a grin peeking out of the corners of his lips.

“Oversleeping, are we?” you smirked, sliding your coffee over to him. “Drink.”

Harry quickly gulped the whole thing down, laughing as you whacked his arm. “Thanks.”

You shook your head, staring forlornly at your empty cup. “My coffee...”

“Was very tasty.” he finished, dodging your hit this time.

Next time, he brought coffee for you, and you drank all of it, cackling as he glared daggers at you. “Oops. Where did it go?”

“I have no idea.” he growled, trying (and failing) to contain his smile.

Were you friends? No. He was Hook’s son, for god’s sake, it wouldn’t be allowed.

But Harry had to admit, he did look forward to Maths now. 

Because of the coffee.

Not you.

Definitely.

But stealing his hook? That was taking it too far.

He was sitting with Uma and Gil at lunch, just eating, when you ran up to him, ripped it off and sprinted off, cackling like a witch.

“Y/N!” he yelled, jumping off the bench and running after you. Crap, why were your legs so short? Easily catching up to you, he pinned you against a tree, your hand holding his hook tucked behind your back.

He held out his hand, expectantly, but you just shook your head, giggling. “Nope!” 

Fuck. How was he supposed to look menacing when you had such a beautiful laugh?!

“Uh... what?” you said, eyebrow raised.

Harry’s eyes widened. Fuck.

You smirked. “I have a beautiful laugh, hm?”

“What?” Harry tried to brush it off, but you put a finger up to his lips. “Nuh uh uh, you said I had a beautiful laugh! No take-backs.”

Slowly, painfully, he felt his face turning red, and your grin only widened. “You’re not that bad either, Hooky.” you whispered, taking advantage of his dumbfounded state to slip under his arms which were caging you in, and sauntered off, his hook swinging from your hand.

Harry jerked out of his trance, quickly following you and grabbing hold of his hook, tugging it back. He fixed it onto his hand, and gently traced the outline of your face. “Our parents are going to kill us, you know.”

You smirked, grabbing his hand. “I know. What are you waiting for?”

He laughed, and leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, only pulling apart at Gil’s shout of ‘get it, Harry!’ with an eye roll. He stuck his head over your shoulder, and yelled, “shut up, Gil!”, before mouthing ‘I know, right?!’. He cleared his throat, and moved back to face you. “Now, where were we?”

shock! horror! india has updated for the first time in months! merry christmas losers

[shesclearlya3]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever P.2

pairing: Xavier Plympton x Reader

word count: 2,145

warnings: more sadness, language, spoilers

not entirely proof-read. *title inspired by Ben Platt’s song* part 1 part 3 part 4

It was a wonder to you how you managed to run so far without stumbling. You weren’t always the most athletically inclined. Especially in your current predicament, dodging tree stumps, holes, whatever happened to be lingering about. Your voice was becoming hoarse from all the screaming, coupled with the fact you were becoming dehydrated. 

This was not how you expected this to go at all.

You knew screaming for help wouldn’t do anything; you were in the middle of nowhere. After your voice gave out on you, you could hear the sound of Xavier - or that thing, calling your name. Tears streamed down your cheeks relentlessly, blurring your vision. Honestly, how could you even produce tears?

Eventually, you had to stop, leaning against a tree trunk and gasping for breath, clutching your chest as you failed to keep quiet. They couldn’t be that far behind you.

“Why are we chasing her!?” Montana yelled, still a little too far away for you to hear. Xavier and Ray both came to a stop, their stamina a bit better than normal, perks of being dead and all. “Let’s just teleport somewhere!”

“We don’t know where she is, Columbo!” Ray said, holding his side. “She can be anywhere in these damn woods, and now we can’t hear her at all!” Ray turned to Xavier, before giving him a gentle shove, “And who the fuck is she!?“ 

Montana laughed dryly, "She was his paramour,” she mocked Xavier, who turned and glared at her. His purple tank now slick with sweat. 

“No, she isn’t!” he said, rather childishly. Montana only rolled her eyes, momentarily hating you for making her run in this heat. Ray continued to look for answers.  “… okay, maybe, but I’m finding her with or without you!” Xavier said, taking off in what he hoped was your direction. Ray and Montana watched him go, Ray, feeling more concerned for you than his female companion.

You were lost, but you didn’t move an inch. You sat on a broken log, brushing your hair from your face. Bugs continued to swirl around you, landing on your skin, almost going in your mouth, you name it. You were confused, hysterical, and, more importantly, horrified at what you had seen. 

HE IS DEAD!

“This isn’t real, it’s not real,” you whispered to yourself, straining your ears for any kind of sound. “What the fuck?” you cried into your arm, doing your best to muffle your sobs. 

“Y/N?” you heard his voice behind you. You instantly froze but noticed his shadow was too far away, perhaps he wouldn’t see you.

Xavier, however, was close enough to sense you. Call it ghostly intuition, if you must. He looked off in the direction he now knew you were in and closed his eyes. 

You slowly turned your head, peeking around the trunk, and noticed he wasn’t there. You breathed out a sigh of relief. You were dehydrated, you were tired; you had to be hallucinating. Xavier, Montana, Ray, they were figments of your imagination. You needed to get back to your car and get far away from this place.

When you turned around, a scream caught in your throat. Xavier was standing over you, his ocean eyes wet with unshed tears. You weren’t intimidated, no. 

He tried to catch you before your body slumped forward. Xavier grabbed your arm and pulled you up, holding you to his toned chest. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you died from shock. You were still breathing, and as he lifted you up in his arms, his tears finally shed.

-

You woke up inside, your aching eyes adjusting to the sunlight still streaming in the windows. The room was stuffy, and you held in a dry cough as you slowly sat up. Your head was pounding, and your throat was still parched, but you were out of the direct heat.

“Hey," 

You have screamed more today than you have in your entire life. You managed to startle whoever was with you, his dark brown hair quiffed. He yelled along with you until you both realized what was happening and shut up.

"WHO ARE YOU!?” you asked for what seemed like the fiftieth time that day.

“I’m Chet, I was put here to watch you,”

You eyed him wearily, wondering if everything from before was just a dream. Perhaps you passed out while visiting Xavier, and he happened to find you and bring you to safety. Yet, how would he be able to get you in this cabin?

Chet realized you weren’t going to say much, so he improvised, “Uhm, Xavier and the others will be back-”

“No, no, nonononono,” you shot up, ignoring the dizzy feeling that washed over you. Chet stood up, holding his hands up. They warned him you would do this, specifically Xavier. “What the fuck are you guys playing at-this isn’t funny, this isn’t funny!” you repeated, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. 

“Please calm down, I don’t even know you-”

Chet was interrupted by the door swimming open. Xavier, Montana, and Ray all filed in, Xavier leading the trio. He held some dirty bottles of water in his arms and a few towels. Montana seemed uninterested, like usual, and went to sit in the corner. Ray just stood there, awkward.

You found you couldn’t keep your eyes from Xavier, who seemed to have the same dilemma. The rational part of your brain knew this couldn’t be a prank, mainly because there was not one person in the world who possessed Xavier’s beauty. 

But it didn’t explain the absolute hell you and his family have been through the past year.

“Could you guys leave?” Xavier said, not breaking eye contact with you. “Now.”

The other three slowly filed out, Chet whispering something under his breath, resulting in Ray smacking the back of his head. You momentarily glanced their way before the door shut, leaving you alone with…

“y/n,” Xavier whispered.

“Get away from me,” you said, your voice already breaking. “D-Don’t,”

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise,” he said, slowly reaching his hand out, “You need to drink this.”

“Why?” you asked stubbornly. 

“Because if you don’t, you will die?” Xavier said as if you were stupid. His sarcasm would have made you smile before, but this… you couldn’t wrap your head around this. 

“You’re alive?” you asked, finally taking it from him. The bottles were mostly covered in dust, and as you twisted off the cap, you chugged the entire thing without a single breath. Xavier wanted to step closer to you, hug you, kiss your forehead, but he didn’t want to scare you.

“No,” he said, sitting in the chair previously occupied by Chet. You stared at him with a furrowed brow. “I’m- I… I’m dead, y/n,”

Xavier slowly rolled the other bottles in your direction, figuring it was best for your mental state. You had no idea how you were supposed to feel about this. Xavier was still dead. Yet, here he was, right in front of you.

“So you’re a ghost, then?” you asked. 

Xavier nodded before offering you the towel he brought. You slowly took it from him, using one of the bottles to wet it and dab at your face, and your eyes that still ached from all of the crying. 

“We don’t know why this happened to us,” Xavier told you. “All of us were killed that night, but… We can still be here, we feel and look human, this place really is haunted,” he said, smiling a little as he remembered what you told him the last night you spent together. 

“You’re stuck here,” you said matter of factly, it was starting to make sense to you. In a fucked-up way. 

“I tried to leave, but I can’t get past the gate,” he whispered. Xavier promised himself to keep his tears at bay for your sake, but it wasn’t working. “I wanted to come home to you, to my parents, but every time I tried, I’d just appear right back here. They never repaired the phone lines, but even if they did, I couldn’t do that to you.”

You listened to him speak, realizing for the first time you had actually started to forget the sound of his voice. Now it was like you heard it for the first time. You set down the towel and opened the last bottle, taking a dainty sip. Xavier continued to watch your every move. 

“Did you suffer?” you found yourself asking, tears still lingering behind your lids. “T-they said when they found you, your face-” you couldn’t finish after you saw the pain flicker in his eyes.

Xavier’s lips trembled as he observed you. “It hurt like hell, what happened to my face, but when she stabbed me,” he shook his head, “I didn’t suffer before I died, y/n. I barely felt it, my brain blocked it out,”

You had no idea if he was lying to protect your feelings, but you nodded. You knew him, he was very upfront about his thoughts and feelings. When he was alive.

The two of you sat in silence, Xavier adjusting himself to sit more comfortably. His eyes refused to leave you, though. Just like you, he was worried you’d disappear. Xavier may have had the others here for companions, but they would never compare to you. 

As much as you wanted to believe, you knew things still wouldn’t be the same. Xavier couldn’t leave, and this place was inhabitable for humans. There was no power, no protection, nothing. You wished to stay here with him, to leave Los Angeles, but it wasn’t possible.

You found yourself standing up, making your way over to him. His blue eyes watched you curiously, and as you got closer, you realized it was him. 

“y/n?" 

"Shh,” you whispered, slowly bringing your hands to his face. His skin was lukewarm, not cold like you expected. Xavier’s eyes slowly fluttered shut, leaning into your touch. You had never seen his body after the fact, not even photos. You couldn’t imagine it now, not after touching him again. 

“I can’t stop crying,” you admitted to him, more tears finally streaming down your cheeks and onto your chest. Xavier laughed a little, reaching up to wipe at his own eyes. 

“Me too, it’s okay, y/n.” he nodded at you, reaching up to grasp your wrists. His hands fit perfectly, and that’s when he stood up, him towering over you just a little bit. This was so surreal, looking at him, touching him, smelling him, even. Xavier still felt like Xavier.

“I never got to tell you I loved you,” you sniffed. It was true; you never confessed your true feelings, and you never even told Xavier in that platonic way you guys always did before. He was gone before you woke up that day.

Xavier didn’t understand right away, and that was okay. He wiped your tears with his thumb, “I love you too, y/n,”

You shook your head, opening your mouth to speak before Montana burst through the door, causing you to jump and bump into Xavier. He wrapped his arms around you, glaring at the blonde over your head.

“We have guests, Xavier,” she smiled wickedly, and you burrowed your head in his chest, inhaling him. 

“Now isn’t the time, Montana,” he glared at her, but she continued to stand there, her hands on her hips. You refused to look at her, or anywhere for that matter. This was what you had been craving for the last three-hundred and sixty-five days. 

“Oh, come on, Plympton! It’s our death day, we’re supposed to be having fun!” Montana attempted to reason with him, and it seemed to have worked. For a moment, at least. 

“I’ll be out in a minute,” he told her, and she seemed satisfied as she closed the door, leaving them alone. You breathed a sigh of relief; she still put you on edge, considering she tried to murder you once before.

“Is that the Montana?” you asked.

“Unfortunately,” he said, his tone light-hearted for the first time today. You nodded, still refusing to let him go. Xavier allowed it, squeezing you tighter. Your hair was damp with sweat, but he didn’t care, pressing kisses to your hair and finally feeling at peace.

“I don’t want to leave you,” you said, looking up at him.  

“You don’t belong here, y/n. You have to go home, live your life, this isn’t a life for you,”

Despite your assurances from earlier, you were still upset. You just got him back, you were finally able to touch him, to hear Xavier’s voice. He can’t expect you to just pack up and leave, you needed to be by his side.

You needed Xavier Plympton, and you were going to have him. 

taglist: @thexmancometh​ @the-walking-daryl​ @trichy-knitts​ @shydragonrider​ ​ @thefandomzoneisdangerous​  @lemonwhiskers​

*if I missed anyone, please let me know! if you want to be added to my taglist, you know the drill. only a few more parts before it’s finished! :)*

[holylulusworld]

Past dark days

Summary: Dean is himself again. What will your Alpha do hearing the truth about the reason Sam had to rescue you?

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x OmegaReader, Alpha!Sam Winchester, Jody Mills

Warnings: angst, innocent reader, scenting, true mates, fluff, comforting, protective Alpha, A/B/O dynamics, violence, blood, characters death, fighting, mentions of attempted sexual assault (nothing graphic/not Dean)

Sequel to: A dark soul and his ray of light

“It all began with a deal my father made…”

Your voice trembles when you remember the betrayal you felt getting to know what your father planned. All your life you believed your father was overprotective, now you know better.

“I’m here Y/N. Tell me what happened. I will protect you from now on. Me, Sammy and Castiel are here. No one will hurt you, Sweetheart.” Dean’s voice low, calming let you relax against his warm body.

“My father was always protective, at least I thought so. I wasn’t allowed to go out alone, as an Alpha could’ve touched me. I was never alone with an Alpha except for my father. I thought he loves me but…” Sniffling you hide your face into the pillow.

“Just tell me, Y/N. You’re safe with me, Omega. I’ll be here from now one.”

Dean can feel you started to shake and moves closer to you, holding you as tight as possible to make you feel safe.

“Around six months ago, before I turned 25 my father brought foreign Alphas to our house. They spend some time with us, had dinner and then my mother and I had to leave the room. Days later I saw them again, watching me in the garden or walking back from church.” Your voice is thin by now and Dean knows he won’t like what you will tell him.

“I got scared and told my father about it. He brushed it off and I was alerted. I’m not dumb, Dean. My father always wanted every Alpha to stay away from me, but he allowed a whole pack to watch me out of the blue? Something had to be wrong.” Your breathing quickens remembering the fear.

“What happened after you talked to your father?” Dean asks to bring you out of your daydreams, or rather nightmares.

“It went on. Day after day I saw at least one of the Alphas follow or watch me. I knew something was wrong and tried to talk to my father again but he said I’m crazy, that I imagine things. My mother was the same, even knowing the Alphas were following us to the grocery store not days ago.” Now you turn around in Dean’s embrace, placing your hand onto his heart as you look up at him.

Your Alpha can see the fear and embarrassment all over your face. Dean doesn’t know how to soothe you, so he moves his arms around you, purring until you relax once again. “Tell me everything. I need to know what happened.”

“Father and mother ignored my fear, my birthday came closer and the Alphas got more … demanding. They started to call my name, whistle or called me Omega. I was scared and ran into the Sheriff’s office. Jody was always kind and I told her about what happened. She called someone and told me to stay at home. That she will come to my parents' house as soon as the person she called arrives.”

“Jody is a good friend of ours too. This was the best thing you could do, Y/N.” Dean can feel your hesitation to keep on talking but he needs to know everything. “Just tell me. I would never judge you, Sweetheart.”

“The next day was my birthday, I turned 25. Jody called me and said she would be there in the evening. That I shall not leave the house or tell anyone about our conversation.” Now you start shaking, tears leave your eyes and you rest your head against Dean’s chest.

“I’m here, Omega. No one will ever hurt you again. Tell me…” He’s demanding now. Alpha taking over he tightens the grip on you, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“Instead of having a party or cake my father brought me into the basement. The Alphas were there…all of them…six of them and the leader…” Shaking you sniffle into your Alpha’s chest. “My father, he had a knife and cut my dress open. Then he allowed the leader to scent me, to touch me. I tried to fight him, but my father slapped my face, holding me in place while the leader ripped my underwear off my body. I was so ashamed, bare in front of these Alphas…” Crying you paw at Dean’s shoulders.

“I swear I will kill them. I’ll rip them apart with my teeth.” Dean growls now fighting the urge to smash something into the wall. “How dare he!”

“The leader said he would have me first. That this was the deal and later all of them would take turns. My father was grinning, and agreed to the deal with a handshake, Dean. He wanted to leave but then someone stormed into the basement. Sam, Jody, and another woman. I think Sam called her Donna.”

“A friend of mine too. The sheriff in Stillwater and a huntress.” Dean explains while you move your arms around him, holding onto the Alpha for dear life.

“Donna covered me with her jacket, Jody and Sam yelled and started to fight the Alphas while the other Sheriff defended me. One of the Alphas hurt your brother, I’m sorry. Sam knocked three out, Jody shot one of the Alphas but there were too many and Sam picked me up, even while being injured he ran out of the house with me in his arms while Jody and Donna got the car and brought me away.” Falling silent you wait for your Alpha to say something, afraid he might be disgusted as other Alphas touched you.

“Did one of them…?”

“No…Sam and Jody came just in time, Dean. But they would’ve…”

“Where is your house, what’s your father's name and where do I find these Alphas?” Dean’s anger rises. The Mark is burning, screaming for the other Alphas blood.

“I don’t know the names of the Alphas. I never saw them before…”

Dean stops asking questions, knowing you are in a vulnerable state he just holds you in his arms, lets you cry into his chest till there are no tears left.

----

“I want to know everything, Sam. Every. Single. Detail.” Dean enounces the last three words, snarling at his brother. “Tell me about her family, the Alphas and the deal.”

“Dean, you shouldn’t…” Sam tries to make his brother forget about what happened to his Omega, but Dean is in rage and won’t have it.

“Now, Sam.”

“Okay.” Knowing his brother won’t stop until he tells him every detail Sam leans against the table in the library, composing himself. “Her father wanted to become the town’s Alpha. This position comes with sacrifices…”

Dean grips a chair tightly, looking at his baby brother while Sam continues talking.

“Y/N should’ve paid the price…” Now Dean smashes the chair into the wall, panting he can barely calm the animal inside. “The deal is to let the former leader have your first-born daughter, along with the rest of the pack.” Disgusted Sam places one hand onto his brothers’ shoulder. “Y/N was promised to the Alpha so he would retire and make space for her father.”

“I will kill them all, Sammy. I swear I rip their throats out with my teeth and let them suffer for even looking at my Omega!” 

“Dean, Jody tried to arrest her father and the pack but…” Sam dares not to tell Dean what happened but Dean nods, already knowing Jody wasn’t able to keep them in jail.

“She had no authority as a Beta, I get it. The big boss told her to let these disgusting creatures go. I bet they are after my Omega, trying to find her.”

“Jody lied and told her father; her boss and the pack leader Y/N ran off with me. She is suspended, Dean. I hate these guys as much as you do, but they are no monsters. We can’t roll into town and kill them.” Sam exclaims seeing Dean’s anger rise once again.

“We can not kill them?” Dean mocks. “I’m pretty sure I can find a loophole for this situation.” A dark grin all over his face Dean looks at his brother, tilting his head. “I bet self-defense is still allowed…

----

Three days later Dean strides along the street in front of your house. Covered in your scent, one of your panties hidden in his pocket he tries to provoke the Alphas lingering around your parents’ house.

The leader of the pack is eying Dean suspiciously as the hunter fakes a phone call, telling the non-existent person about his new Omega, an innocent girl he found weeks ago.

Now the pack is slowly walking toward Dean, circling the Alpha like prey. The other members fall back to let the leader get hold of Dean.

“Hey! Where is the Omega you found?” The leader growls and Dean silently chuckles. “Omega? Got no clue what you are talking about, dude. If you excuse me now. I think my phone lead me to the wrong address. I wanted to find an Alpha worth my time…” Now Dean grins, eying the smaller leader with mischief in his eyes. “…but all I could find is a pitiful excuse of an Alpha and his tiny friends. Do you sniff at each other’s butt too?”

“You!” The Alpha tries to attack Dean, but he dodges the fist easily. Grabbing the leader's wrist he twists it with full force, causing the Alpha to wince in pain. Dean can see the embarrassment all over the Alpha’s face and his smirk grows.

“Did Y/N feel like that too when you stared at her like the animals you are.” Dean pushes the leader away, yelling he shall leave him alone and Jody starts filming the scene. The leader doesn’t know Dean let him hit his jaw and nose on purpose. Stumbling Dean spits blood out, calling for help before he dodges the next punch, kicking the Alpha’s balls, making him fall to his knees.

Now one of the other Alpha gets a knife out and Dean smirks. That’s exactly what he was waiting for. Sam told him to not go after the Alphas, told him not to do anything stupid – Jody agreed right away.

“I’ll kill you and find that little whore. I’ll knot her till she begs me for more.” The Alpha growls trying to stab Dean, but the hunter is faster. Grabbing the Alpha’s wrist he grasps for the knife, ramming it into the man’s shoulder, twisting it.

“I’ll give the six of you one chance. I know only this bastard touched what’s mine. You can leave town and never come back. This arrangement of the town’s Alpha is over. Go and leave me be, or die like him.” Dean is snarling now while the other Alphas eyes widen seeing Sam, Castiel and Garth standing on the other side of the street.

“You…” Panting the leader tries to get up but Dean’s knee collides with his jaw, knocking him out. “Yeah, me. I’m her Alpha.”

The packs’ eyes dart between their leader and the other Alpha’. “He was strong…” One of the Alphas whispers pointing at Sam. “I’m out of this.”

“Agreed…” The pack starts running away, leaving their leader behind to save their lives. 

“Get up you son of a bitch! I’ll rip your throat out or castrate you…” 

“Dean…” Sam tries to stop his brother, shaking his head. “Leave this to Jody, we have the footage…”

“Fine…” Dropping the knife Dean wants to walk toward his brother but the Alpha is not on the smart side. The knife in his hands he tries to stab Dean, but the hunter is faster.

Disarming the Alpha, he uses the knife to ram it into the leader’s heart, grabbing the hem of the Alpha’s shirt. “The last thing you will see is the girl’s Alpha who just killed you. That’s for Y/N and any other Omega disgusting Alphas like you abused and hurt.”

----

The next day you pace around Dean’s room waiting for your Alpha to return.

When the door finally opens you rush to his side, checking on his bruised face, purring. He’s moving his arms around you, holding you to his warm chest.

“It’s over Omega. The leader is dead, the others gone, and your father got arrested. No one will take you away from me. We will rest a bit and when I’m healed…I’m going to claim you…”

Part 3

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom, @thewinchesterco, @hobby27, @kittycatlover18, @gh0stgurl, @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @hawaiianohana31, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @katpatrova17, @notyourtypicalrose , @heyitscam99, @onethingthatkeepsmealive, @natura1phenomenon, @flamencodiva, @echoesofpassion, @cocklesbelli, @voltage-my2dlove, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @thenamelesschibi, @lauravic, @fandomsrourlives, @wittysunflower, @drakelover78, @lemondropirwin, @lonewolf471, @wronglanemendes, @spnhollis, @void-imaginations, @jay-and-dean, @shatteredabby, @juniorhuntersam​, @helpmeluci, @neii3n, @goodgodimaweirdperson, @alltimesamantha​, @chonisberonica​, @supernaturalonice​ @stuckys-whore​, @shadowkat-83​, @officialmarvelwhore​, @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel​, @wecantgiggleitsafandom​, @meganywinchester​, @shikshinkwon​, @miraclesoflove​, @yolobloggers​, @guardian-tn, @lu-sullivan​, @maniacproffesor​, @hollymac79​, @straycuties9​, @kayla-2000​, @ilovefanfic86​, @gracefultrenchcoat494​, @babygirls-fav​, @sadn0va​, @spnwoman​ @amiquette​, @linki-locks11​, @geekofmanyforms​, @eggingamazinglove​, @jessica-marsh09​, @spnficgirl​, @shut-themoonscone​, @thequeenreaders​, @countrygal17a​, @kteelou​, @soryuwifeyxx​, @kricketc28​, @heartislubbingdubbing​, @atomicfandombomb​, @defenderrosetyler​ , @maybesomedaygayyyy​, @differentstudentrunaway-e70bf763​

If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason. Sorry.

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags     

@spnfamily-j2, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @deans-baby-momma, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @20gayneen, @janicho88, @thefaithfulwriter, @dreaminemz, @negans-lucille-tblr, @sadwaywardkid, @akshi8278, @hhiggs, @midnightsilver16830, @mrspeacem1nusone, @ria132love, @caligraphee, @the-witch-in-silence, @multisuperfandom, @deansgirl-1968, @justanotherwinchester, @jadesupernatural, @squirrelnotsam, @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo, @shortwinchester, @roonyxx, @jason-todd-squad, @thevelvetseries, @spnsuper17, @adoptdontshoppets, @woodworthti666

A dark soul and his ray of light Tags

@aruvdreeh

[hank-mcdankblade]

I Know A Bottom When I See One Princess (Part 2)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary

Chapter 1: You and Dean have been pals for as long as you can remember, practically raised together. Are things still the same as you remembered when you reconnect with him after a couple years apart? Well there is one thing you see differently and you’re about to call him out on it.

Chapter 2:  After you flirt back with Dean you start to rethink all of your life choices. Why did you flirt back instead of making fun of him? God it would be so much easier if you were just a genderless blob. Hopefully the new supernatural case a friend of your mom’s gives you will distract you from all this romance mumbo jumbo. 

Chapter 3: You and Dean both start to realize your feelings are not what you both originally anticipated them to be. If only you two could actually talk like adults instead of bantering like childish 8 year olds. The case picks up when you see a certain someone’s name over every case, a certain boomer’s name.

Chapter 4: You and Dean do some sleuthing into Chrissy’s apparent death. After learning the truth your trip to Wendy’s/Jack in the Box gets interrupted by Chief douchebag. Rick takes the three of you on a nice drive to the mountains to introduce you to his daughter.

Word Count: 4,697

Warnings: a fuck ton of swearing, self hatred, angst, fluff bits sort of

______________________________________________________________________

        Ever since your little accusation of Dean, there’d been a little tension between the two of you. You were unsure of what kind of tension there was, or if there was even any to begin with. Surely Dean wasn’t upset about you teasing him, he’d let worse things roll off of his back without sparing a thought about it. Despite your doubts, your routine and friendship were pretty much the same in all regards. You still hunted together and made an awesome team. You still ate greasy food at establishments that barely deserved the title ‘Diner.’ And you still sang together to all his old music. So you were probably just over thinking things like you always did, but you still had an inkling that something was off about Dean.

       Black and blue streaks painted the night sky with speckles of stars scattered across the canvas. The street lights outside cast pale yellow rays from the crack in the curtains that hit across the corner of Dean’s bed and stretched up the wall. The rays revealed to you the quilted pattern of the comforter and Dean’s duffel bag thrown haphazardly on the floor with clothes leaking out of it. Parts of the room not in direct contact with the light were in view as well. Traveling up his bed, you could see the curves of his cheek bones as he slept. Dean truly was beautiful. This was when he looked completely at peace, when he was asleep. 

       You turned to your side again, the bed rustling while you did. You had nightmares like most hunters did, but that wasn’t the reason why sleep evaded you tonight. After that night in the bar you basically cemented that you both had feelings for one another. Sure you and Dean flirted back and forth as a joke, but the other night was different. It was more real. What you had before was just your normal relationship. Dean shamelessly flirted with you and you made a joke out of it. It was your go to move to dodge his affections.

       You didn’t really know how to respond to these advances from him, or anyone really at the moment. Your track record of relationships wasn’t the shiniest around and definitely nothing to brag about, most ending in either death or betrayal, but you were mostly scared to make things weird with Dean. He was your bud, your pal, your dude, any nickname that you could call a friend you’ve absolutely said it to him. 

       What would happen if you two did get together? A million and one questions popped into your mind when you thought about it, all ending with the same answer. Nothing good. It would be easier to play his flirting off as a joke to not hurt his feelings because relationships were nothing but trouble from your experience. 

       At first glance you’d think that Dean would never want to settle down and was content to have temporary lovers that lead nowhere, but he wanted what most people wanted, what you wanted too. True love. Pure and unadulterated love. But the bond you two shared was enough for you right now. You were ok with being alone, not that you really gave yourself much of a choice on the matter having sworn off relationships and meaningless nights with strangers. You couldn’t bring yourself to be with someone, not with the baggage you had strapped on your back. If anyone, hunter or not, saw the scar on your back you knew what they would say and the facial expression that would come with it.

       If you let your walls down for even a single moment you would lean closer to Dean and let what might happen, happen. But the growing void inside refused to let you, God if he saw your scar he would look at you with disgust. It’s not the scar that would make him turn away, but the identity associated with it. Across your shoulder blades read a prophecy in Latin, burned into your skin the day your powers were activated. It was a symbol of your power and title. The curved letters created the prophecy of the Slayer reading; 

“In omni generatione, est electus. Una puella in mundi. Et arte vires et solus geram et in surgere viribus a tenebris. Ad propagationem eorum mala prohibere et ad terras eorum numero. Quæ est Slayer.”

“Into every generation, there is a chosen one. One girl in all the world. She alone will wield the strength and skill to stand against the forces of darkness. To stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their numbers. She is the Slayer.”

       The night you got your scar was still fresh in your mind and could play back like a movie reel. It was an ordinary day just like any other. Your biggest problems were fitting in at your new high school, getting good grades, and avoiding whatever bullshit your mom was going to throw at you, but little did you know you had a big storm coming. The activation of a Slayer’s powers differs from Slayer to Slayer. Some feel nothing, others feel a tickle, but you experienced the worst burning pain you’d ever felt in your life. The moment the imaginary hot metal touched your skin a hellish scream was ripped from your throat. You swore you could feel your skin melt away to expose your bones. The pain was so white and intense that after only a couple of moments your body went limp as a way of protecting you. 

       For weeks the burning pain didn’t go away. The pain and scar served as a reminder that you would never lead a normal life. Never wear a strapless dress or swimsuit ever again. You could never let anyone touch your back. If they felt the raised skin on your upper back you knew they would have questions, and ones you couldn’t answer. It’s not everyday you see anyone with a large brand on their back, or a brand of any kind. But after the reveal the reactions were the same, eyes filled with pity and hands recoiling from disgust. 

       Dean would react the same way. He would look at you just like your mom did, nothing but a demon. I mean that is where you got your powers from as the Slayer, so you had to be a branch on the demon family tree. Dean hated demons more than anything in the world, so where did that put you in his eyes? Embers in your heart started to light at the thought of being related to scum, to vermin. Thoughts and fantasies of a normal life poured gasoline onto the fire until it burned away your entire existence. 

       “God damnit.” Hot air left your lungs as you sighed. The cardboard sheets of your bed pooled around your waist as you sat up. Your eyes were seemingly staring at nothing while you pondered what the hell to do now that you were awake. Your heart felt deflated like a popped balloon, crushed under the weight of your reality. 

       You would give both your legs and your entire movie collection to be able to sleep right now and forget about the harsh world outside the warm cocoon your hotel room proved to be. The desperate need to just sleep was choking you, making tears prick at your eyes.

       “Hey, you ok?” Had you been more awake, Dean’s sudden interjection would’ve made you flinch. Your reflexes and actions were much slower as you turned to look at him lying on his back. Your heart fluttered at the sight of him half asleep, hair fluffy and eyes barely open. 

       “Would you believe me if I said yes?” You asked in a rough voice. Your fingertips ran through your hair pulling it out of your face. Your eyelids fluttered closed in an attempt to concentrate on your breathing. Dean was taking his sweet time answering you. His eyes were scanning over your form. Your chin was perched atop one of your knees, arms around said leg while the other was stretched out under your covers. Your skin had been hardened by years of hunting, fingertips riddled with callouses from the weapons you’d handled. The only parts of you that were soft were hidden from sight. Dean also bet that your cheeks were soft, he had never had the chance to touch them but someday he’d like to. If you allowed it he would be able to stare at you for hours, trying to solve you like a Rubix cube. For the most part Dean could tell what you were thinking and feeling without second guessing himself, but there were always moments he was unable to read your body language. 

       He’s seen you in this state before, not too often but every once in a while. It was almost as if you were a statue, unmoving and barely talking. Whenever you were quiet he knew something was up. It was terrifying when you were quiet. At the pit of Dean’s chest an ache began to grow, he felt this way whenever he saw you like this. Physically there was nothing he could do, no mountain he could push or villain to defeat. This was something you had to work on your own in order to heal, and he understood that. But it didn’t make it suck any less watching you torture yourself internally when you were hit with these episodes.

       “Need some company over there?” You held your breath for a moment mulling over Dean’s question. A familiar touch caressed your mind. This wasn’t the first time you’d been in this situation before. Nothing registered as contact on your skin, it was just numb.

       “Yeah, I do.” Wordlessly, Dean padded over to your bed and lifted the covers. The shadows on his body moved with the light from the street lamps. There was a silent pact you two had to never bring up these nights, nights where you both needed some human contact with no questions asked. 

       Nights like these began after your activation. Dean had never seen you so upset before. As a teen he had no idea what to do, he probably still didn’t know now. But he knew that being held helped you and your mother was sure as hell not gonna do that for you. She was always too busy hunting with John. Truly those two were cut from the same cloth. Without the guidance from your parents you sought comfort in each other, and thus your silent pact was formed. Neither of you knew what the reason for this silence was, but nonetheless you kept it. Dean laid on his back with his arms open inviting you in, reminded of when you two used to do this before you left. 

       Feeling your head on his chest felt like home. A gentle surge of energy made his skin hum as you wrapped your arms around him. If there was anywhere Dean knew he was meant to be, it was here. 

       “Goodnight sweetheart.”

       “G’night.”

       And for the first time tonight, you actually slept.

       Once the morning came around you and Dean were already on the road heading towards another case, Colorado to be more specific. You got a call from a friend of your mother. Her name was Jen and she worked as a park ranger for the Grand Mesa National Forest near Grand Junction. During the past couple of weeks, people had gone missing with no evidence left behind. Jen knew that this wasn’t a bear attack like the police claimed, so she called you and Dean for help. Of course you both accepted excited for a new adventure. 

       The Impala roared across the black pavement, kicking up rocks and zooming past trees so fast the leaves shook. In your opinion, the day was perfect. All across your part of the hemisphere the temperature was starting to drop. It was early October and the snow was starting to fall in a beautiful light drift, letting the wind decide its path. The ground was dusted with white sparkles that glittered in the sunlight. The snow wasn’t thick enough to build igloos out of just yet, but it was just thick enough to stick to the ground. You closed your eyes trying to absorb the environment’s good energy. Somehow you convinced Dean to roll the windows down and here you were with your head practically out of the window taking it all in. You were never sure why, but something about the cold air woke up your bones. Dean would always claim it was because you ran hot and then wink at you. 

       The negative energy was evaporating into the air to be turned into a beautiful white mosaic. The wonderful weather made you think that maybe someone was looking out for you. Maybe someone out there saw your rough night and decided to give you a break. Whatever the cause, you weren’t going to question it and were going to keep singing along to the Blue Oyster Cult CD Dean had in.

       Dean looked over to you and committed the image to memory. No matter how many times he saw your smile it would never be enough. You were stretched out in the passenger seat with your shoes kicked off and jacket thrown in the backseat despite the low temperature. Seeing you beside him in the Impala brought on a flood of old memories. Dean wasn’t able to count the number of times Sam, him, and you drove to get ice-cream and dick around town just to get out of whatever motel you were stuck in at the moment. The three of you were inseparable as kids, always hanging out or messing with each other. But everything came to an end once you both turned eighteen. 

       By the time you had become the Slayer, your relationship with your mother was already strained. She was not the fuzziest person around and was certainly not fit to be a parent. The way she ended up in the hunting business was the same as John. Her husband got killed by demons and the rest was history. From then on she dragged you along on all her hunts and after a couple years she ran into John Winchester. The two made a surprisingly good team. 

       Your mother, Caroline, was always off putted by your existence it seemed. It was as if you were a burden to her, just extra luggage to haul around that reminded her of her late husband. There were never any bed time stories or hugs, just life lessons and the occasional pat on the back. At fourteen you considered yourself to be independent. You cooked for yourself, you took care of yourself, and with the help of Dean you were able to raise Sammy up to be a productive member of society. (Or dork as Dean would like to say) Your mother was barely around so it wasn’t a surprise that you grew up faster than you should have, but things only got harder after you received the call of the Slayer. Caroline resented you for what you were, even if she never voiced her opinion out loud. Her words were sharp and responses were short. You knew what she thought about you.

       Dean never understood how a mother could do that to her child, her only child. Mothers, parents in general, were supposed to protect their kids. The day you left Dean swore he could feel his heart break in two. But as much as it hurt him to see you leave to start your own life in the big world, he knew why you needed to. He knew that you needed to get away from your mom’s abuse and passive aggressive attitude. But none of that mattered because you were here now and Dean was incredibly thankful to whoever brought you into his life again.

       A violent buzzing on your thigh stole your attention away from the beautiful weather today brought you. You sat up from your seat and reached your hands forward, clasping them and stretching until you heard a few clicks from your joints. You stifled a yawn as you looked at your phone. “Hey Jen, yeah we’ll be there soon. No, no don’t worry. Alright. See ya.” Dean glanced over to you, silently asking you if everything was ok. “Jen’s just being paranoid. She thinks the police are gonna know that we’re up to something nefarious.”

       “What does she think we’re gonna do? Show up holding a sign that says ‘Hey we’re definitely going to murder someone?’”

       “You never know, those could come back in style.”

       After another hour of driving, the Impala rolled onto a gravel driveway connected to a log built office. As you stepped out of the car the crisp air of the forest nipped at your skin waking you up. The gas and pollution of the cities made you appreciate the fresh air and scenic views before you. As far as the eye could see there were only trees that looked straight out of a Hallmark movie perfectly covered in snow. For the last month all you had seen was gray buildings. It was suffocating how many people squished themselves into one place that they called home.

       Dead leaves and rocks crunched underneath your feet as you walked into the Park Ranger’s Office. A wave of hot air rushed past your cheeks as you stepped into the heated building. It was simple in structure having only four rooms, a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom and an office. The aesthetic was just as you had imagined it would be. The walls were covered with nature paraphernalia everywhere, with samples of tree leaves and forest fauna tacked onto poster board naming the different parts of the organism. Other parts of the wall were covered in maps and pictures of memories from years and decades ago, like a life size scrap book. The heels of your boots clacked against the wooden floor giving a signal to the workers inside that they had some company. 

       “Hello?” You called out. It’d been awhile since you saw Jen, so you weren’t sure what you were going to get. But after a few moments your voice was met with clunking boots and a familiar face. 

       “(Y/N)! Dean! Thank god you’re here, I’ve had enough of all the spooky shit going down here and would like to go back to fearing bears instead of monsters.” Jen said bounding towards you two with a smile. In her hands she was holding a manila folder that had papers sticking out in all different angles. You smiled feeling her bubbly energy, feeling yourself start to charge up a little after such a long drive. 

       “We’ll get you back to fearing those bears in no time. What do you have for us?” You asked stepping closer to get a look at the file Jen prepared, with Dean following your steps.

       “The disappearances have been happening for years and only during the late fall and winter season, but no one talks about it.” Jen huffed out. She leaned against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed.

       “The police usually just show up, ask their questions, and never do anything to solve the cases. Always claiming it’s bears. But I call bullshit, because bears only kill people when threatened or if they’re messing with their cubs. I doubt that many people would be stupid enough to play chicken with a bear. And even if they did end up dead bears bury their prey and feed on them until completely gone, but we haven’t found any evidence to support that claim. No body, no bears.” Jen���s description of the case was strange. Both you and Dean were already mentally working on a list of creatures to rule out in your hunt. 

       “Have you seen or smelled anything strange in those weeks?” Dean asked. He was thumbing through the file to see pictures of the site of the crime, narrow footprints on the ground, and trees scratched with bloody long claws. Jen looked at the ground, pulling her brows together in concentration as she thought back, willing her memories to give her some sort of clue to what happened here. 

       “Not that I can think of…” For a moment it looked like something clicked in Jen’s eyes. “Although….”

       “Yeah?” Jen shook her head again dismissing herself. “Anything will help.”

       Jen pulled her lips tight before answering you. “The claw marks I’ve noticed on the trees are odd.”

       “How so?” Your partner asked stepping in.

       “It’s not a huge difference from regular bear claw marks, but something feels off about them. The claw marks feel less like territory guarding and more like a result from an attack. If that makes any sense, they’re less precise.” You and Dean shared a look, almost as if you were telepathically sharing the same idea. Your gut was telling you already predictions of what was terrorizing the woods, but you wanted to get all the details before you jumped to conclusions. The case seemed like a pretty open and close shut one. You were about to thank Jen when the office door suddenly swung open. After a moment of panic, Dean quickly picked up the case file and hid it in the confines of his leather jacket. The door swung back hitting the wall with a loud smack revealing an older gentleman in a police uniform. His face was grim, every crease in his face probably from frowning so much. Your eyes looked to his breast pocket with the name tag, ‘Rick Sullivan, Police Chief.’

       “Ms. Clinton, you’re not scaring the locals again with your fairy tails are you?” The policeman’s voice lacked any humor or sarcasm whatsoever. From the cadence of his words you could tell that this wasn’t the first time Jen had this conversation with him. Jen’s body language switched. She stood up straight with a stoic look on her face. Oh yeah, they had definitely met before. Jen bit her tongue, wanting so badly to tell him off and reveal to him the true nature of this world and watch as his face morphed into one of pure terror.

       “Not at all,” Jen said, clipping her words as short as she could. “just telling these kids that now might not be the best time to go hiking. Ya know, what with the disappearances and all.” Her eyes narrowed slightly with a fake smile. She couldn’t help but get in at least one jab before the conversation ended. It was a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation. But at least with this option she was able to do what she wanted, regardless of the consequences. The police man, now known as Rick from his name tag, clenched his jaw. Tension built up into the air as the two stared at each other for a moment.

       “Just some bears getting their energy out, nothing more than that. But regardless the department needs to check all the bases and I need the sign in form.” Jen breathed deeply, most likely to stop herself from saying anything else and walked out of the room to get the clipboard the office left out at the entrance on a pedestal for guests to sign in at.

       “Is everything ok? We heard there were some people who went missing here.” You asked casually slipping your hand into Dean’s. The rush Dean felt from your skin touching his made his heart beat quicken. That familiar hum of energy traveled up his arm and dissipated into the rest of his body. He knew you were only doing it to protect your cover, but it still didn’t fail to make him nervous. Feeling some sort of magnetic pull, Dean moved closer to you. You would be lying if you said that playing this role didn’t feel natural to you. It was odd how easily you could slip into the role of a fake girlfriend, holding onto his arm and leaning your head on his shoulder.

       Rick shook his head and sighed. “Nothing so dramatic happened here. We just have a few residents that like to stir things up and make trouble where there isn’t any. As long as you don’t hike where you shouldn’t be you should be fine.” He stated this like it was such an obvious fact that even a mouth breathing four year old would be able to see it. Rick seemed to think highly of himself, towering over you two in condescension. To him you two were just some dumb kids looking to cause him grief.

       “Are you sure? We read that there wasn’t any damning evidence that pointed to a bear attack.” Dean butted in. Your grip on his hand tightened almost as a warning to get him to cut the attitude he was sporting. If it wasn’t in his voice, you could see it all on his face. Dean’s eyes were locked on Rick with his lips pursed. Of course that shit head had to have at least one word in on this, his personality wouldn’t have it any other way. He always had issues with authority, something you thought he picked up since he was always under John’s thumb.

       Rick could sense Dean’s snarky attitude a mile away and reciprocated. His posture straightened even more, if possible, and he pulled his shoulders back. “Son, I’ve been on the force for damn near forty years. I think I know a bear attack when I see one.” You were sure if Dean uttered another word Rick would have him arrested just for being disrespectful. Truly the police chief before you was the epitome of the angry baby boomer’s generation, and Dean was just another millennial in his eyes here to ruin the diamond industry by spending all his money on avocados or not getting married. 

       You tugged on Dean’s arm wanting nothing more than to get out of here before the situation escalated. “Hey love, why don’t we head home and come back another time?” You  asked leaning into Dean, affectively playing the part of the girlfriend. The two of you had everything you needed from Jen to start working on the case, and if you had any more questions you’d call her. Guess she wasn’t kidding when she mentioned over the phone that the cops around here were twitchy. Dean couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his lips looking at you clinging onto him. Fake or not he loved being able to have these moments with you. 

       “Sure thing sweetheart.” Dean’s eyes followed your figure as you lead him out of the door to the office, ignoring anything Rick Sullivan had to say to him. 

       Once you knew you were out of ear shot of the asshole back in the office you felt the need to speak up brewing inside you.

       “You are going to get us arrested with that smart mouth of yours.” You poked at Dean. Looking over to him you saw a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. He didn’t regret a word he said. You both walked in sync to the car with clasped hands, no longer safe from the cold outside. 

“Well my mouth could be doing other things if you want sweetheart.” Dean tugged on your hand, pulling you to him with a smirk. Your laughter filled the air as you shook your head.

       “Like what? Complain and bitch about the cold? You are pretty good at that.”  Rick’s crotchety behavior was long forgotten by the time you two got in the Impala. Yet again your rapport with Dean remained the same. Maybe harmless flirting was just your friendship and you were making too big of a deal about it. Analyzing your history with him did remind you that this dynamic of yours had been going on forever. Nothing came from it then, so maybe nothing will come from it now. The two of you settled back into the Impala to start yet another adventure into the supernatural world. 

[kassies-take]

Friend From Beyond Pt.2

A/N: oh god this is crappy.....

Warning: Tricks, Manipulation & Maimed

Avalance, Ava Sharpe x Reader

Part 1

Word Count: 882

You had disappeared from the Legends’s record. They didn’t know where you were but that was the least of their problems as past villains and creatures showed up in 2019.

One particular villain that the Legends didn’t expect to be alive was Mallus. They didn’t have time to send out a beacon for the totems and they only had Zari’s.

Citizens screamed, fire hydrants burst and cars crashed. The time demon stood at the opposite end of the street as the Legends stood on the other.

A small silhouette stood 1/10 in front of the demon of the highest order. You threw punches and kicks that brought Mallus to his knees, after all you made him appear again.

“Are you serious?” Sara frowned when you turned around and headed towards the Legends.

“Hello gorgeous,” you ignored Sara as you placed your hands behind your back and smiled at Ava. “I thought you could use some help.”

“We were helping.” Sara glared.

“You,” You scoffed. “That’s a laugh. You’re lucky I flew in to save the day, love. I mean what can this fraud do. What superpower? Oh I guess you can stick batons in Mallus’s ear as earplugs?”

Mick snickered at your comment before Sara turned to glare at him.

“Superpower, you want me to show you superpower. How about I rip you apart with my barehands,” Ava stopped Sara from proceeding foreward

You took a step back and smiled. “Spoken like a true assassin. You’re nothing.” You stretched the last word. “You need someone equal to you, someone who would come to your aid when villains pop up.” You emphasized the pop with a smile.

“Wait,” Ava crossed her arms. “The demon was your doing?”

“Don’t you see what happening here, S-She is wreaking havoc so she can play the hero and impress you.”

“What is wrong with that?”

You felt a gust of wind drag you from your back. You turned to find Constantine chanting as an red and orange portal showed up in the city. When you had turned, Zari, Ray and Mick took the chance to fire their weapons with a stream of propulsion towards Hell. You snapped and they were now powerless.

Mona changed into Wolfie as Nate turned into steel and Charlie shifted into Gorilla Grod. The three worked to attack you as you easily dodged every attack. You snapped once again and stripped the Legends of Kinetic Energy, paralyzing them in place.

“I told you there is nothing you can do about it.” You smirked before you disappeared with a blue mist behind you.

“I’m gonna kill her!” Sara threw a dagger at a crate in the cargo bay out of anger.

“Gspxytlk, obviously wants me. If I go with her maybe she would stop all this chaos.”

“No, we don’t trade lives.”

“I hate to break it to you Cap, we’ve all already done it.” Nate gestured around the room.

“Charlie and Constantine when they broke time, when I tried to contain the bomb in Gideon’s simulator, Ray when he jumped out of the Waverider for Nate, Nate when he made sure Ray came back from Hell and you risked your life to get Ava back from purgatory.” Zari explained.

“Not to mention we all risk our lives to keep the timeline intact,” Ray smiled.

Sara dismisses the team once again with no set plan on how to defeat you. Ray, remembered his cousin look a like mentioned a fifth-dimensional being on Earth-38. He contacted Supergirl and learned about the power dampening tool they had.

When the Legends obtained the said item, Sara impulsively had every intent on using it to kill you. And that was what she set out to do with the item in hand and the League rule by heart.

“Gspxytlk!” Sara marched down an alley.

“Oh it’s just you.” Your smile dropped as you leaned against the wall.

“I challenge you to a Trial by Combat.”

“Ooh, I’ve never been in one,” you skipped towards Sara. “For Ava’s hand?”

“Yes.”

“To the death?”

“Yes.”

You snapped your fingers and appeared in a theater. Sara looked at you questionably as you smiled back.

“You know, for theatrics.”

You pulled open a case that appeared out of thin air and handed a gun to Sara.

“Be careful now, you only have one bullet.”

“That’s all I need,” Sara pulled the trigger.

You gasped and placed you hand on your abdomen. A second later when Sara wore her winning smirk you began to laugh. You removed your hand to show a bloodless hand and abdomen.

“You think I would hand you a loaded weapon. Let alone one that could actually kill me?” You laughed and braved yourself against your knees.

“I don’t need a gun to kill you,” Sara growled before she tackled you.

You only smirked has you raised your hand to snap, Sara smirked as well, as she pulled out the power dampener.

“That’s odd.” You snapped your fingers once more before Sara punched you.

If there anything you learned in the time prison was that you valued your life. If giving up Ava would save your life you would.

“Kltyxpsg.” Your body started to fade a light blue as Sara released your body. “You’ll see me again someday, Lance.”

[tillays]

Love the way you hate me

Fandom: Inazuma Eleven

Pairing: Kidou x Fudou

Characters: Kidou Yuuto, Fudou Akio

Summary: Who said hate could not come from love?

Hate.

Whenever Fudou felt that crimson look on him, it was easy for him to guess what it was screaming. After all, he didn't need to see them to guess the veil of emotions that flew over the surface of those scarlet eyes.

And each time, he enjoyed it.

I love the way you hate me

Every aggressively spoken word was like a bulwark that he could build between them. And every sketchy smile was, however, like the imperative need of his soul to demolish this invisible concrete block.

If the hatred he guessed behind those goggles was divine, the adrenaline that flowed through his veins as they both ran on the field made him, each time, feel even more alive. And just for that, he would keep acting as he always had. As they always had.

When his feet slipped on the dirt floor of the ground, nothing mattered. The deprecatory glances did not penetrate his field of vision; just as the accusing words that flew in the air wasn't important enough to reach him.

You say I'm a freak

I say I am free

Things had changed a lot since their first meeting. Since their second too. Fudou could not say for how long now their relationship had taken this turn. The tension that charged the air at the beginning of Inazuma Japan, when they were confronted, had given way to a very different tension. To a tension they were the only ones able to perceive.

Or maybe it was because the air could look so abruptly sweet only when they were alone.

"Kidou! Fudou! We'll be eating soon, are you coming? You're the only ones missing!" Endou's voice echoed from the steps leading to the ground.

They both considered themselves for a short second, before Kidou spoke, in a voice as powerful as the goalkeeper's. "We'll stay here a little longer, we'll join you later!"

He did not need to question Fudou about his willingness to go back eating or to stay. He knew it. Because that was how they were, after all.

Few words. Few acts.

Many acts?

"Do you plan on keep being lost in your thoughts for a long time?"

Fudou's words had the merit of snatching him away from these futile thoughts, allowing him to realize that he had remained motionless, one foot on the ball.

"Is it a habit of yours, Kidou-kun, to daydream like that?"

His brows furrowed behind his goggles, while a thin smile appeared in the corner of his lips. This smile, though not warm, which broke every time the bulwark that Fudou was trying to build.

Take another shot at me

I love the way you hate me

Once again, the air had been covered with this magnificence that they both loved and hated at the same time. This tension charged with feelings which they could not put the slightest word on.

Fudou would probably always enjoy the clenching face of his teammate when he approached too close to take the ball. Enjoy how much his lips told him to back away, while his soul screamed, asking him to stay, to come closer. Enjoy shivers that he guessed slipping on his body when their hands touched despite themselves in an innocent and involuntary contact.

You say I'm insane

I say you're afraid

Once again, Kidou's face started to wear this delicate – and yet almost imperceptible – pink hue that he loved so much. Fudou did not need to let out a single word nor to ask any questions to understand.

Few words. Many acts.

Too many acts, probably. And not enough words.

The memory of lips looking for each other, out of sight. Of hands that finds their way and clutch together with both delicacy and envy at the same time. Of repressed, not assumed eyes contacts.

Those red cheeks were definitely just as divine as this hate hidden behind goggles.

Disturbed by the tension that was flying around him, Kidou missed the ball which was shot with the same ardor as what his teammate's feelings contained, and soon it drove further away from the field. Fudou's lips stretched in a thin smile in front of this sight.

It was only when the strategist left the dirt ground to go looking for it that they both realized that the darkness of the night was now swallowing the place. The lampposts posted all around the field had allowed to hide the slow disappearance of the sun, while they were too focused on the ball and the presence of the other to notice it.

After seemingly endless seconds while Kidou, drowning in the darkness, still wasn't coming back, Fudou began to walk slowly in the direction he had previously taken.

"Kidou, you bring it or what?"

A groan of discontent reached his ears and, although dubious, Fudou went in its direction. His eyes, soon finally used to the night, distinguished the silhouette he was looking for, actually illuminated by the soft whitish light of the moon. Kidou seemed to let his eyes slide across the horizon absently, looking for the missing ball.

"You find it or what?" Fudou said, his hands in the pockets of his shorts.

"No, why did you shoot with this strength?"

The brown hair boy shrugged his shoulders as a response, before breaking the few meters that separated them with long strides. Kidou made a slight recoil, and the pale rays of the moon allowed Fudou to see him frowning a little.

"You're not even looking for it, you're just running away from me."

"And why would I run away from you?"

Hands avoiding each other.

Eyes dodging each other.

I'd rather be a freak than be a fake

Ground hiding under feet.

Bodies finally being like magnets.

Tell me I'm a freak

Tell me I'm a creep

Skins touching each other.

Breaths asking to merge together.

Lips looking for each other.

Hate me

Burning skins.

Mingled breaths.

Inseparable lips.

I get stronger from the pain.

Breathing, feverish breaths.

Time seemed to slide at a crazy pace, as if to match the rhythm of their heartbeats. Far away, it seemed that Endou's voice was calling their names, without a doubt because of their absence at this late hour of the evening.

They should go back. Probably.

Then, one last time, Fudou revelled in the taste of these lips in front of him, just for a second. In the smile that slowly stretched them. In the sight of those flushed cheeks that crashed on his retina – but at this very moment, he could guess he may be the same, after all.

And tomorrow, again, they would act as if nothing had existed.

And no doubt they would start again, tirelessly.

"I hate you for that, Fudou..."

I love the way you hate me.