#ALSO THIS HAPPEND LAST YEAR

[citrusitonit]

i rember my phase where i met this rlly pretty girl in a friend griup n she was all huggy wirh me and i played along cuz i dint wan hurt her feelings like we were making edits of each other shr calld me mi amor i called her novus spes but then i think she was jusg being friendly n stuff

[itsbarelycrimson]

While I work on the new comic, I'll leave this juicy LORE related to my comic, and to Nathalie's past. These are all headcannons, of course.

FIRST: NATHALIE'S FATHER...

Fiódor Osmond aka "The Field"

(I just call him Mr. Wheat bc is easier to remember)

SECOND: NATHALIE'S BACKSTORY

Nathalie Ducoeur was born in a small family. A young couple that wasn't planning to have a baby, but either way, they loved her more than anything from the day she came into the world.

2 years passed when Nathalie's parents had a tragic car accident that took both of their lives. Nathalie was being cared by one of her mother's friends when she heard the news. And since there weren't any other relatives, she end up in an orphanage. There, she spend 1 year waiting for a new family, but nobody came...

Here comes the dark part...

When she turned 3 years old, a group of people came to the orphanage to offer "help". Phylantropists, they offered a big amount of goods for most of the children in the place, in exchange for a selected group of them to take to a different orphanage, where they will be given a better education and treatment. Of course the deal was accepted.

And Nathalie was among the "lucky" ones.

This other orphanage was hidden, very well hidden, to the public eye basically unexistent, a massive mannor, with dozens of rooms, gigantic yard and with a suspicious amount of basement levels.

All this facility under the banner of "The Sword".

In here, only girls are alowed. In here, they create spies, secret agents, assassins, professional workers of all kinds for the members of The Council and their close contacts. Mostly rich people. The only way to ever leave this place is by getting "adopted" or hired by your boss. Once you do, you won your last name. Based on a special trait, something you excel at.

Another thing, and an important detail. This is where Mr. Osmond appears. Although, Nathalie didn't meet him till she was 15, he knew her since she was 5. He just appeard one day on the main office and said "I want a kid. The weakest one. Raise her well, really well, make her the best of the best. I'll come back to get her when she turns 15".

After that, all the events in the comic happend. The facility had something personal with Nath, a special treatment to be exact.

So... The day came. And she received her last name, Sancoeur. Emphasizing her heartless and sometimes sadistic demeanor. On how well she could hide every single drop of emotion from anyone... (Also, the f*ckrs looked up her original one and they "oh wouldn't it be funny if we mock the memories of the desceased parents by using their last name in a twisted way?"yeah that.)

The "Nathalie and Mr. Wheat" comic come after this, so... let's just wait...

THIRD: NATHALIE'S REAL PARENTS

Samuel Ducoeur and Beatrice Shmidt

He was 22 and she was 21 when Nathalie was born. Sam had to get 3 different jobs to help his fiancé go to college, and, at the same time, buy lots of toys for Nath, very important of course. They were good people.

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

That was long... to think that I used to see her like a normal woman. Badass assistant... Stealing ancient things... commiting crimes... killing some people, the usual.

Where did those days go?

[mev-fizzah-writes]

ᑎᑌᗰᗷ 𓌉◯𓇋

A/N: First fic on this acc!! Enjoy this little angsty fic :) Neglected bat!reader breaks their sobriety after their family makes a grave mistake. Sure Reader should be used to it by now, but offering them a drink? At a Gala they forced you to attend? On your birthday? What a load of bull. You pray that Damian doesn't find out...but sadly they don't get accepted. No beta reader, we die like Jason Todd TW: Substance abuse, alcoholism, brief mention of underage drinking, self harm etc .

𐙚"Don't let them see you like this" -Alex G 𐙚

ᑎᑌᗰᗷ

That's what it felt like, not a single though in your mind. It was consumed by the taste on your lips, the bottle in your hand. Limp, you sat in your bathtub, surrounded by broken glass and empty beer cans. The loud city of Gotham seemed to finally be silence, it seemed distant. It was the only thing keeping you from fully drifting away, the faint sound of cars, the only time you thanked this godforsaken city for being loud.

Guilt hadn't reached your mind yet, you only wanted to drink. Focusing on how the burn in your throat made you feel, oh how it made you feel so alive. Each breath felt sharp against your throat, it made you want more. The alcohol coursed through your veins, providing an escape, providing a warmth no person ever gave to you.

Leaning more into the cold porcelain you stared at the shattered glass by your feet. You could feel its sharp edges against your feet, it was a constant reminder of your mistakes.

Unfixable, the glass and your life. But right now that didn't matter, only the bottle existed, the burn and the urge to finish it. You managed the strength to pull your arm up, tilting your head back to feel it. The taste you missed so much, a taste you wanted to forget had no idea why you would neglect. What a day to celebrate your twenty second birthday! Relapsing after two years wasn't your plan today but it sure was better than anything else that happened today.

The night, displayed by your bathroom window, taunted you. It made your mind float through an intoxicated haze. Pieces of the day coming back to you, as well as the -now broken- promises you made. A sigh left your lungs and it was evident that she had drank, so much. All of this, just because of one question. A question that shouldn't have broken your heart as much as it did, really it was pathetic.

"Why aren't you drinking tonight?"

The sound of your 'brothers' voice was distant, and so was the guilt that was soon to consume you. But as the line between fiction and reality blurred more with another sip, there was not a worry in your head. The guilt will come later, but here it was no where to be seen. The only thing you could grasp was the bottle you used to keep on the highest shelf.

A shelf that was now empty, thanks to your so-called family's echoes. Echoes that were forever etched into your brain. Not only had they forgotten about your birthday, forcing you into a social event that you already dreaded, but they had also forgotten about your sobriety. Was not drinking on your twenty-first not an obvious sign? The question had filled you with anger at first. Your fists were clenched to your side when Dick had asked that. Hopefully you would forget this day ever happended.

"Why aren't you drinking tonight?" Dick said with slurred speech, making your family turn their heads to you. At first you took it as a joke, that he was trying to make you less tense. When your chuckle left all of them confused that's why you could feel your heart shattered. It felt like time had stopped, like god was playing a joke on you. You just stared at them, not giving him an answer. "You're kidding." There was no point in hiding the sadness in your voice, there was no way anyone was going to care anyway. After a strangled 'yes' left his lips you decided there was no point in talking them. You took one last glance back at your dad Bruce, he looked like he was going to offer you a drink, that was the last straw, so you decided there was no point in staying. Sadly, you did. Just enough to take a sip of champagne, just enough to set you back. God did you wish Damian was with you, he would've remembered.

Remember. That's the only thing you wanted to do. Today was supposed to be simple, go with Damian to a petting zoo, visit you favourite café with a few friends and be done with your day.

Damian...would he have stopped you from doing this? He was too young to attend whatever you were at this morning and sadly he wanted to meet up with his friend. You weren't going to stop him, he was the only one that listened to you and vise versa.

It made you chuckle, every time you told him about how much you used to drink, and every time he would give a small lecture on how much it impacts your liver and brain. Being a doctor would really suit him.

Just as you close your eyes you see a small light peeking outside the door. Light footsteps followed soon after, and suddenly everything is crashing down. You shake your head, hoping, praying that it isn't Damian. You'd rather it be a murderer coming to finally end you then your little brother. No, he had so much faith in you, please. Sadly, if you speak of the devil, he appears.

The light spilling in from the living room stung your eyes, luckily they were already tearing up.

"Sorry I didn't knock, but can you pick up the phone-"

You saw it, the way his eyes widen an he drops your phone. The way the his green eyes suddenly become more reflective, is hands twitched and he took a step back. Your baby brother, staring at you with such a distaste and confusion and...there was nothing you can do. There was no way you could've gotten up to hug hum, even reassuring him seemed impossible in your state. Glass etched into your foot, a pool of blood by feet as your eyes fluttered.

"Wha...y-you promised!" His voice wobbled with an anger that you understood all too well. The way his eyes switched between shock and sadness and the way he seemed to be frozen on the spot. It was like looking into a mirror ten years ago. He stared at you the same way you stared at your mother, it was driving you crazy with guilt.

"Dami..." you croaked out, feeling nothing but selfish.

"No. Keep your eyes open I-I'll call an ambulance. I...I" watching him stutter didn't do anything good for your heart, you just wanted to hold him and tell him that this was just some sick prank.

"I'm sorry...just don't tell Dad." The way you uttered those words seemed to catch him off goard.

"This...feels like a matter that should be reported to hi-"

"Dami. Just don't...please." To be honest, you were baffled he was even understanding you. It didn't even feel like english you were speaking. "I love you, buddy..."

If those were your last words, you were glad. Soon the coldness of the porcelain was no longer there, and there was only a faint ringing you could here. Maybe you were dying? It was a lot less scary then what you thought it would be, it was just...numb. No taste of alcohol, no warmth, no burn. Only numbness.

Just numb.

Numb.

๋࣭ ⭑Laying there lifeless...๋࣭ ⭑

[rui-drawsbox]

remembering the most memorable mc's (with canon appearences) from the otomes i played

all of them are phone games btw. and looong rambling about the games after the cut!

Mystic messenger has been in my radar since i was in elementary school but i played it for the first time after the spanish traslation came out (2017 i think?) Seven shaped my type in such a specific way that im not really sure why loved him so much (it was the whole "he loves you in every route" stuff). I like a lot the default mc, most of the fandom did and that was enough to won me over

Rosa is top tier protagonist tbh, Tears of Themis has really good story and characters (as far i played, not a lot but i enjoyed it) The reason i'm not that much of a fan is bc the game is expensive asf and not very free to play friendly. You're either lucky or have a big wallet with the gacha

i miss my wife man(Marius)

Ephemeral has to be one of the best free to play otomes i've played tbh (if my memories aren't tricking me, it's been years) Good artwork, good storyline, good characters and as far i remember you can unlock one chapter of the character route per day (mabye two days, idk) and the mc's background has an important role in every route (she's a zombie! she's pretty now but eventually will fall apart, aaaaand her story gets expanded in one of the routes!) ((shes also adorable)) There's also a sequel, if you wanted more of the boys! never finished it but i'd recommend it

Honorable mentions! Huellitas Mágicas is a great game! has a really good cast with well fleshed arcs for all the characters, even the scondary ones! The game shines more for the development of *all* the characters rather than just the protagonist/ml. The main theme is overcoming insecurities! Each love interest has a different way of helping our (very insecure) protagonist and helping different characters with their own struggles :DD

10/10 i recommend this game if you want something cute and can be finished in a few hours, if i remember right. It also has a sequel! with like- 12 new love interests, also never finished it bc i didnt found a guide that worked for me but ñek

A3! is my canon event as a gacha player. Discovered the english/global server, tried it and got bored, left it for a few months, tried it again and fell in love, noticed the game was going to shut down bc low sales -HAHA :(-. This is not a otome btw, this is here bc Izumi has to be one of my favorite protagonists in gacha games ever

last but not least! Obey me! Shall we date? oh dear, what have they done to you :(. The original had intense powercreep to force you to pull cards -multiple times bc that makes them stronger- and even now, the company showed a lot of favoritism to some characters, leaving others to dust bc they don't make the same money. Not to say, they released a new game with the same cast and new main story (ignoring all what happend before). And let me say: THEY LITERALLY WANTED TO KILL THE ORIGINAL GAME.

Nightbringer might be a decent game but i don't trust the devs anymore, i still remember what happend with Asmo's birthday right after the release, and honestly i don't want to sit there watching how they disrespect my favorite characters again and again and again. Loved the characters hated the devs. 5/10 you can play it if you want but i don't recommend spending money on it, it's not worth it, just search #obey me here in tumblr and enjoy the amazing fanworks that i can assure you have a lot more love than the game itself

i miss my wife man (mammon and levi)

[aur0ral1ghts]

ᴀᴍᴏʀᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀ ❧

ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴄᴏɴғᴇssᴇs ʜɪs ʟᴏᴠᴇ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ..

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs; sᴏғᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ, ғʟᴜғғ, ᴋɪssɪɴɢ, ᴛᴇᴀsɪɴɢ, ғʀɪᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇs.

Me and Mattheo Riddle have never gotten along. We are what you call frienemies, we are not exactly friends, but we aren't enemies. We just like to tease and pick on each other. Me and him are in the same friend group, so that's when we kinda get along. Maybe once or twice a month, we would actually have a normal conversation without insulting each other. Another reason why we don't get along is his personality. He flirts with even damn girl in this school, it's annoying honestly. He's also the schools playboy, every week he brings a new girl to his dorm, and fucks her then kicks the girl out of his dormitory like she meant nothing to him.

But we do have a few things in common, like to my surprise, we both like to read. I found this out because one day I was heading to the library to find a new book to read, and I saw him. I saw Mattheo sitting down, reading a book that wasn't a textbook made for studying. His eyes gleamed with curiosity as he flipped the page, his eyes tracing over the words written among the page.

I couldn't help but admire him for a quick moment. He looked so cute and focused, and, wait, what am I talking about..?

I walked up behind him. He turned around, his breath hitched.

"Who knew I'll see the day to find Mattheo Riddle reading a book and enjoying it?" I chuckle. He scoffs as he closes the book. "Well, I do infact read, and I enjoy it." He mutters, blinking up at me.

"Shocking." I say, exaggerating my tone. "Why are you here?" He asks, standing up, leaning on a bookshelf infront of me.

"Choosing out a new book to read." I shurg. "Not surprised." He chuckles under his breath. "Also, I've read that book you're reading right now." I say. "Spoilers; I cried at the end." I exclaim, running my finger along the spine of a book. "Don't spoil it for me, dumbass." He says, nudging me. I giggle to myself as I find a book I like, I pull it out and examine the corver. "Anyways, bye Riddle." I say, walking away to check the book out. "Right, uh, later." He mutters clearing his throat.

But that's pretty much the only thing we have common, besides having the same group of friends and both being in Slytherin.

[Mattheo]

I heard some footsteps enter the libary, I knew it was Y/ns, I could tell by her shoes, she wears these loud black shoes they have a certain sound. You just know it's her when she walks into a room.

I pretend I don't notice, I can feel her eyes upon me, she then sneaks behind me. She leans down and says close to my ear, "Who knew I'll see the day to find Mattheo Riddle reading a book, and enjoying it." She chuckles, I look back at her pretty and perfect face.

A few months ago, I randomly fell in love with y/n. It all kinda happend, one day, I was pissed off at her for something, and then the next day, I found myself staring at her and admiring her. I hated myself for it. It took me at least a whole month to accept my feelings. I've never loved a girl before, sure I had a small crush on Pansy Parkinson in first year, but that doesn't count. It only lasted a week or so.

A few weeks ago I saw Y/n read this book, she seemed really interested in it, so i got the book out, which is the book I'm currently reading.

I didn't mean to be creepy or anything- but I wanted to get into what she liked. So once told me she enjoyed Astronomy the most, so i decided to read a little about it.

[Y/n]

We are all sitting in the great hall, chatting amongst ourselves and eating the food provided in front of us.

"Are you guys going to try out for Quidditch?" Blaise Zabini asks us. "Hell, yeah!" Mattho answers, as Blaise and him clap hands together. "Me and Y/n are just going to watch the tryouts, right?" Pansy says, nudging me with her elbow. "Right." I say giggling.

-

The next day, I enter potions, excited to see what we are going to do. I use to not be that interesting in potions due to Snapes boring lessons, but ever since Slughorn starting teaching potions, I've grown to like it more and more.

I stand next to Pansy as I see a red-pinkish liquid on the table, brewing. I could smell a faint smell of..

Cigarettes, rich colange, and books.

Why did I smell that?

"Pansy, do you smell that?" I ask. "Smell what?" She whispers, clenching her book to her chest. "Cigarettes, and colange." I mutter under my breath. "I don't smell that? I smell apples, mint, and fresh air?" Huh? That's werid. I definitely wasn't sick, my nostrils were working fine.

"Ah, girls, it seems you have discovered Amortentia."

Amortentia, i repeat in my head. I heard of this potion, but I forgot what it is, it's on the tip of my tongue.

"Professor, what exactly is Amortentia?" I question. "Great question, Y/n, you'll find out soon enough." He chuckles. I nod.

"Alright, alright, everyone, please settle down and gather around this table." He clears his throat as students gather.

"So-"

The door slams open as a messed up Mattheo enters, looking undeniably hot. His hair was slightly messed up, his tie on his uniform was not done properly, and a cigarette was placed in his mouth. I'll hate to admit it, but he looked awfully hot.

Slughorn clears his throat. "Mr. Riddle. You're late."

"Yeah, I've noticed." He scoffs. A few students giggled.

Slughorn eyes Mattheos cigarette, he looks down at it and mumbles an "Oh." Then places it in his pocket, probably saving it for later or something.

Mattheos walks behind me, his breathing loud and hot.

"Anyways." Slughorn says.

"Gosh, Y/n, how much perfume did you spray!?" He whispers a little to loud as most of the class begins to laugh. I turn my head to face him. "I didn't spray any." I mutter. His face twists into confusion.

"Ahem, as I was saying before I got interrupted, So this lovely pink potion we have brewing over here is Amortentia, which is known to be the most intense and most powerful love potion in the world, it's rumored to smell like whatever you're attractive too."

I turn to Mattheo again to see his red flushed face. It's almost cute.

"I guess we all know who Mr. Riddle is attracted, too." He chuckles. Suddenly, Mattheo scoffs loudly before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. It's almost like a child throwing a taturm.

Pansy comes closer to me. "What the heck was that!?" She whisper yells. "I dunno.."

Slughorn sighs, before looking back at me. "Y/n, if you will." He motions to the door.

"Uh, sure profosser." I nod, walking towards the door. This was unfair, why'd I had to to get him after his outburst? Why couldn't one of his minions go fetch him?

I headed to go to see if he had gone to the bathroom because in previous instances, he was often caught skipping in that bathroom. No one really uses it because most teachers won't allow you to use the restroom during class. You would have to wait until break, plus no one really used that bathroom due to it not being properly taken care of. There was always a bunch of cobwebs all over the celling.

I walk up to the door, and I almost hesitate to knock. But I give in and do it.

No reply.

I wanted to check anything place, but I had this werid gut feeling telling me to check inside just in case. So I opened the door as I looked at the ground.

"Mattheo..?" I ask softly, still looking down. I wait a full five seconds before he answers. "What?"

"I'm coming in." I call out, my voice echoing within the massive bathroom. I scan the room before laying eyes onto Mattheo. He's to my left side, sitting down against a hard brick wall, smoking a cigarette. (Probably the same one he stuffed into his pocket earlier.) He's also writing in a black journal. He looks up at me, lips parted, his messy curls laid perfectly upon his face.

I slowly approach him. I sit down next to him, hugging my knees, letting my back fall against the harsh brick wall. He closes his journal quickly before placing it next to him.

"Uh. Just so you know, Slughorn is looking for you." I mutter in a low tone, fidgeting with my fingers. I felt almost nervous being this close to him. I felt a wave of butterflies wash over me.

"I don't care about that jerk." He mumbles, leaning his head back, fidgeting with his wand.

"He had no right to expose you like that." I say. "Thanks." We both sit there awkwardly for a few seconds before he calls out.

"So..what did you smell in the Amortentia?" He says, looking at me, obersving me.

"Oh, um. I smelt cigarettes, rich colange and books." My face then turns red once I've realized what I've just said. I have smelt Mattheo in the potion, and I know I have just realized. I guess when I smelt him, I guess I just didn't expect it at first, I denied it. I just convinced myself I smelt someone else. But in reality, it was him.

He smirks to himself.

"Hey, Mattheo?" I question trying to avoid the subject.

He doesn't reply back, but he looks at me. My heart pounded out of my chest.

"Why do you hate me? Or at least act like it."

"I dont really hate you. I've never had. I guess I hate you because I love you."

My mouth opens but doesn't make any noise. I can't believe he just said that. Mattheo Riddle actually loves me? Sure he was attracted to me but loves me?

"Wanna know something?" He smirks. I nod helplessly. "I think you smelt me in the Amortentia."

"I think so, too." I admit as he leans in closer.

"Can I kiss you?" He says as I smile widely. "Please..?" He asks. "Yes, you can." I answer. And with that, he kisses me.

The kiss is everything I've ever wanted. It's soft, gentle, and passionate. Usually, when I imagined Mattheo kissing me, i would imagine it to be rough and lustful.

He cups onto my check, his other hand wrapped around my waist, as he pulls me in closer to him.

"Mm, you have no damn idea how long I've been waiting for this exact moment." He whispers, pulling a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Me too." I say, looking at him, as our foreheads touch.

"So, will you be my girlfriend?" He asks me out of the blue.

"Yes." I whisper back.

"Good." He smiles, as we kiss again.

A/n; this was fun to write! :)

Masterlist link

[valyrfia]

still not over the national anthem incident yesterday btw because max verstappen throughout his career has constantly been disrespected either by those he has been nothing but friendly and encouraging towards and it pissed me off a great deal that three world championships under his belt later some drivers still don’t respect that he is THE generational talent

can i ask what exactly happend, i turned off before the podium

Crowd started chanting “Lando” during the podium, which in itself is a little disrespectful but nothing we haven’t seen before (ie. chanting Charles during Imola). The national anthem started and Lando put his fist in the air cheering them on/encouraging them DURING the national anthem. Needless to say, Max and George gave him the biggest side eye. A lot of people have also drawn comparisons to Charles’ behaviour during Monza qualifying last year, where the tifosi booed Max and Charles told them off/shook his head.

Lando also went on to blab about how he would’ve won if not for the safety car, which a lot of Max fans were a little ?! about because Max’s skill definitely made the difference during this race. Also Max would have won Miami if not for the safety car, but you didn’t hear him say any of that directly to the press, instead he just praised Lando’s skill.

All in all it’s plain disrespect and immature as hell. I would NOT guess that Lando, George, Charles, and Max all fall within the same two year age range. Also it’s disheartening because this level of entitlement and general non-awareness is nothing new, lest we forget when he broke the Hungarian GP trophy last year (which takes like 4-6 months to make) and he said some pretty dismissive stuff about it forcing McLaren PR to go into overdrive, or him saying that Trump is his lucky charm after his Miami win. I’m sort of done making allowances for some rich asshole’s behaviour, especially because the media seems ready to glorify him. If a non-British driver had pulled that same shit during the national anthem you bet all English-speaking F1 media would be up in arms but no Lando gets a pass because the British are desperate to have a second coming of Lewis Hamilton.

[signanothername]

Can we get a timeline of your comics? If you have a timeline- then is there a link somewhere?

Uuh tbh I never made a linear timeline? I’m genuinely bad at linear storytelling, that’s why I prefer to make comics based on whichever suits my fancy regardless of whether it’s in the past or future

It’s also a bit complicated with the idea of portraying different killers shzhzhhd

I have made a little timeline here talking about the ages, and when MTT were recruited, but it’s just that one quick timeline chhchc

But I can try to order them for you? And at least mention for some of them where they are timeline wise

Ok so order will be from past - present- future, and I’ll try to note anything of interest

Not all comics will be included, since some of them are made either for fun, or they aren’t necessarily part of the timeline, just a silly what if side comic, etc

I did try to include all comics of interest, including those that were ask oriented, if there’s a comic you have in mind that I haven’t included in the timeline feel free to ask about it, cause I could’ve easily missed something (I made so many comics my lord dbdbbxbxb)

With all that out of the way let’s go

———

A promised kiss - this comic happens right after the apple incident, when all villagers are dead, the village burned to the ground, and Dream’s in stone, Nightmare is still in the high of his madness

Stone grave - happend only once, around the last day of the 499th year only a few hours before Dream’s release, Dream is released exactly on the 500th year when the clock hits 12am after

Linguists… - this happens a few weeks after the first Killer’s recruitment, no one is in the castle but him and Nightmare at that point, Killer 1 hasn’t been subjected to Nightmare’s conditioning yet.. explicitly at least (this Killer doesn’t survive, he’s killed before anyone else is recruited)

Unfeeling machine - a few months in after Killer 2’s recruitment, no one but him and Nightmare in the castle, Killer is at the beginning of his conditioning, still hasn’t been fully conditioned (this version of Killer is also killed before anyone else is recruited)

Watched… - a regular occurrence, but this specifically happens before Murder’s recruitment by a short while, only Killer 3 and Nightmare are at the castle, Killer 3 is highly conditioned but yet not conditioned fully

Get humbled Nightmare - takes place before Murder’s recruitment by a short while, Killer 3 is highly conditioned at this point

A never ending game - happens before Murder’s recruitment by a short while, Killer 3 is highly conditioned

Apple pins - happens before Murder’s recruitment by a few weeks, so it’s still only Killer 3 and Nightmare in the castle at this time, Killer is highly conditioned

illusion of choice - happens a few months after Murder’s recruitment, Horror hasn’t yet been recruited, Killer 3 is fully conditioned

Erased and forgotten - happens after Color’s release from the void by a few months, Color starts his passion for photography after, for reference, Color breaks out of the void somewhere around the same time Murder gets recruited, he hasn’t yet met killer

Trauma - happened once, somewhere after a while of Murder’s recruitment, but before Horror’s recruitment

“Handson experience” - this happens somewhere after Horror’s recruitment, Horror hasn’t been recruited for long in here, hence, his inability to tell Nightmare’s mood and how he shows it, think after his recruitment by a few months

One brain cell - happens after Horror’s recruitment by a few years (-5 years), Horror has yet to get accustomed to Killer 3’s behavior while Murder is more knowledgeable of Killer 3’s attitude and masks

Will he ever truly escape? - happens with Killer 3 who’s saved, Nightmare’s showing Killer 4 to him

Choice - Killer 3 has already been saved here, he hasn’t survived Nightmare

Brink of death - happens after Killer 4 has been recruited, Dream has grown a bit more mature and a bit wiser to Nightmare’s emotional manipulation

999 apples - happens after Dream’s grown wise to Nightmare’s manipulation, when he finally has enough resolve to actually aim to kill, first time Dream takes a killing shot

Final request - happens somewhere in the middle of the timeline,, all MTT’s have been recruited for a while

Thanatophobia - also happens somewhere in the middle of the timeline, after all MTT’s recruitment for a while

You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you - happens with Killer 4 who Color saved for only a short while

It’s even more foolish for you to trust yourself - this shows killer 4, Killer 4 is only shortly killed after his escape

Emotional suppression - Killer 5, happens a few months after Killer 5 met Color for the first time (Killer 5 is the Killer that actually survives Nightmare)

Dearest, who hurt you? - happens in the middle of the timeline, Killer 5 is newly recruited, Horror and Murder all have been recruited for awhile

Pets - shows Killer 5, happens in the middle of the timeline, Horror is now knowledgeable of Killer’s behavior in general

Keeping the kitties safe - happens after Killer 5’s first kitten was almost killed by Nightmare, think somewhere in the middle of the timeline, where Killer 5 has known Color for a good few years at that point and their friendship a bit more stable where there’s mutual trust

Soul capture (part 1) - happens regularly, but this specifically takes place in the middle of the timeline, where MTT had been recruited for a while, and after Killer 5 and Color have already gotten attached

Soul capture (part 2) - takes place a few weeks after part 1 of soul capture

All's fair in love and war - happens within the middle of the timeline, MTT are all recruited and Killer 5 has met Color at this point

Nonexistent mercy - happens somewhere in the middle of the timeline, where Killer 5 had spent enough time around Color to truly be attached to him to

Killer vs Dream - happens a few weeks after “Nonexistent mercy”

A will of steel - takes place within the middle of the timeline, Murder tries talking to Nightmare only once

Ultimatum (part 1) - middle of the timeline

Ultimatum (part 2) - happens right after Ultimatum 1 within the same day

A secret unfolded - happens after Ultimatum by a few weeks

I love you (Part 1), I love you (Part 2) - happens actually very later in the timeline, when Dream realizes that during their fights, Dream hasn’t told Nightmare how much he loves him enough, too preoccupied with everything to notice how far they’ve truly been driven apart

Letting off steam - takes place somewhere down the line, Killer 5 is planning his escape with Color at this point

Read like an open book - happens after Color saves Killer 5

Worth it - happens after Killer 5’s saved by a few months, Killer 5 is still fully conditioned, and him and Color are still facing so much difficulty in their relationship, Killer 5 is fully attached to Color at this point

Delta vs Killer - happens a few months after Killer 5’s saved

Numb - happens a few months after Killer 5’s saved

Besties? - happens after Killer 5’s saved, Ink and him developing their own version of friendship

A beautifully haunting smile - happens semi-regularly where Killer 5 would associate Color’s looks with Nightmare, mostly happens after he’s saved by only a few years (-5 years), later down the line those associations break little by little

Not human nor monster - happens after killer 5’s been saved for a few years (-5 years)

One rule (part 1) - happens a few years after Killer 5’s escape (think -5 years)

The end is never (part 2 of one rule) - happens a few days right after “one rule”

Guilt trip town - happens a few years after Killer 5’s saved (-5 years)

Cross soul - happens a few weeks after meeting Cross for the first time after Killer 5’s saved (-5 years)

On the topic of kindness - this comic happens years after Killer 5’s saved, enough years have passed for Killer to have learned a bit more of a healthy way of life (think +5 years after Killer’s escape)

Subconscious protectiveness - happens within the same setting/time as “on the topic of kindness”, think of it as a silly extension of it

Your own worst enemy - this comic happens a few months after “on the topic of kindness”, Nightmare is facing a few different mental and emotional difficulties, Horror has escaped, Murder was Killed, Nightmare’s back to being all alone in his castle

Similarities - happens a few months after “your own worst enemy”

Familiarity - happens only a few weeks after “your own worst enemy”, Killer 5 and Nightmare tend to meet a bit too often for a while

Strike one - happens after Killer 5’s saved for a while, think +5 years

Hierarchy - happens after “Strike one” by a few months

Engrossed yet blocked out love - happens while Nightmare’s alone again in his castle, MTT haven’t been there for +5 years, and Nightmare is still facing difficulties

Capturing moments - happens 7+ years after Killer 5’s saved

A Little life update - happens later down the line, Killer 5 hasn’t seen Nightmare for a while, and has developed a lot more of a healthy relationship with life and himself

Molded - Killer 5 meets Nightmare again in unusual circumstances, Killer 5 is over halfway through his healing journey, his conditioning has a lot less effect on him than it used to, back to only being half conditioned

Apathetic - happens many years after Killer 5’s escape (think +10 years)

There’s nothing to fix - happens way later in the timeline, Dream is desperate to convince Nightmare to stop spreading negativity, MTT long gone by this point, Nightmare is still all alone in his castle

Taunting - happens way later down the line, Nightmare is still all alone in his castle, this shows killer 5

Nightmare and a kitty - happens way later in the timeline, Nightmare is still all alone in his castle, Nightmare find his fascination with cats as a coping mechanism, and as a sort of fucked up association with Killer 5

———

Side comics of interest:

Below is a list of comics that do happen in the timeline, but are not necessarily significant one time events but rather something that happens regularly within the timeline, so it could take place really anywhere in the timeline from present to future

Error vs Killer - happens a few times, when Error’s a bit in a trigger happy mood

Eating problems - simply to show their food issues, it’s a regular occurrence

Constant menace - happens regularly within Ink and Error as they deal with their own shenanigans

Crocodile tears - happens regularly where Nightmare manipulates Dream’s emotions, this is just to show one of the ways Nightmare uses for his manipulation tactics

Strangers - happens sometimes where the twins meet by coincidence when they’re not exactly fighting, they usually just move on without a single word

Make it hurt - something to show Nightmare’s relationship with other characters, happens somewhere in the middle of the timeline after all MTT already has been recruited

A frightened child - happens regularly in their fights, another way to show Nightmare’s manipulation of Dream’s emotions

Manipulation - happens regularly

Dissonance - happens semi-regularly, this shows Killer 5

Reaching for what’s missing - happens regularly

[kkrymiii]

"Again Home"

SPIDER-GIRL! reader x Kim minjeong

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MDNI! Not proofread!

Cw: angst, curse, fwb ig

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As spider-girl it's bound for your life to be set in danger, but who cares? It's fun. Plus you enjoy this life. Now here you are swinging through the buildings at midnight in new York, your body aching and your suit severely damage. You can already hear Mr. Starks scolding, but you can hear the scoldings from your girlfr-... Uh? I mean friend more... Minjeong, it's complicated.

To be honest, you and minjeong have been dating for 2 years, and in 1 month it's your third year. But not really, since last month minjeong broke up with you. But here you are swinging around new york going to her apartment again, why? We don't know either, even though we broke up I still went to her apartment through her window, wounded. Seeking her care. And she didn't refuse me, never. You guys never talked about it, on why you two continued talking to each other and why she kept on letting you in her house...

Why did she break up with you? Simple. She just cared too much. You we're always in danger and wounded, you guys always fought whenever you went to her house wounded. She would always scold you about It and you weren't the best with those scoldings, you would get annoyed and say 'you just don't get it.'. It happend almost every week until minjeong couldn't handle it and broke up with you, you didn't want to. But it was also for the best cause you didn't want minjeong to be involved in your life being spider-girl anyways, you didn't want to hurt her. Never. But now it's complicated on how you're guys relationship? Friendship?... Is going, I'd call it friends with benefits considering the stolen kisses and touches whenever you guys are alone.

As you swing through the buildings in new York you soon reach minjeongs apartment balcony.

Minjeong then started to hear some movement, "Y/N..." She thought. It was always you who she immediately thought whenever she would hear sounds in her room, always. And as expected as she turned around from her seat, books and notebooks on her table she couldn't help but smile seeing the girl outside her window.

You opened the window catching your breath heavily, you didn't even knock. As usual. You hurriedly jump to the couch she had and laid, and there it was.

"Y/N?!" Minjeong eyes grew larger and her smile fading, realising the wounds. Again.

You began taking off the suit, letting her get a better look at the injuries.

"What happend?" Minjeong asked, getting the first aid kit and some cloth and alcohol that she always kept due to Y/N.

"Stupid Mutant sewer lizard thing?!..." You groaned, as I laid on her bed gently as I caught my breath. Grabbing her sheets gently as I felt the pain from the alcohol that she was rubbing with the cloth.

“Stupid Mutant sewer lizard thing? Seriously?” Minjeong couldn't help but roll her eyes hearing that comment.

She applied the alcohol a little more roughly than necessary, feeling a wave of mixed emotions wash over her. Concern and… well, frustration.

“Why do you keep doing this, Y/N?” she said, her voice tinged with a mixture of worry and annoyance. “Why do you always have to act like everything is some kind of reckless game?”

"it's not reckless, I'm saving this city, this universe, us." You said as you continued to grip onto the sheets a bit more. 'I hate alcohol, it hurts like hell.' You thought to yourself. But of course you had to remain looking calm Infront of minjeong.

“And what about you? Who’s gonna save you when you keep putting yourself in these situations?”

Minjeong couldn’t hide her annoyance and worry as she continued to clean the wounds.

“You’re always getting hurt and putting yourself in danger. It’s not just about saving the universe… it’s about your life, your well-being. You’re important too.”

"I can save myself" You say, that's quite UNDERWHELMING might I say for what she told you. Damn it you were always like this, weren't you?

Minjeong huffed and shook her head in disbelief. “No, you can’t. You may think you’re invincible, but you’re not. You’re human, and you have limits.”

She finished cleaning the wounds and started applying bandages to some of the cuts, her touch gentle despite her irritation.

“You’re too stubborn to admit it, but one of these days, you’re going to push yourself too far. And what then? What happens if you can’t save yourself?”

"Just don't get yourself involved minjeong. You don't get it" You say frustrated with her. Oh I smell an argument, and btw there's your iconic line of yours.

"I don't get it? Really?" Minjeong was taken aback by your words, a pang of hurt registering in her chest.

"I don't get it? I'm the one who patches you up every time you come back here looking like this. I'm the one worrying day and night because I know how dangerous everything is."

She finished wrapping the bandages, trying to keep her cool, but her voice was tinged with disbelief. "How can you say I don't get it?"

"...forget it" You sat up, groaning out loud since it was not a good idea due to your severe wounds. But, of course. You fought through it and stood up getting out the bed and picking up your spider suit on the ground.

"Forget it?"

Minjeong watched you stand up, her irritation growing at the sight of you ignoring her injuries.

"You're honestly unbelievable, you know that? You come here, all banged up, and then want to leave the moment I bring up anything even remotely serious."

She stepped closer to you, her eyes locked on the suit in her hand. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going back out." You say with that same empty and stoic expression or annoying expression, If you were to ask minjeong.

"Are you serious? You can barely stand up on your own, and you want to go out there again?"

Minjeong couldn't believe what she was hearing. Frustration boiled within her at Y/N's stubbornness.

"You're not going anywhere. You’re staying right here.”

"and why should I listen? Weren't you just pissed at me a minute ago" You said raising your voice a bit but not as loud, you could never raise your voice at minjeong. Never.

Minjeong couldn't believe the audacity. "Yes, I was pissed because I don't want to see you get hurt. Is it so hard for you to understand that I care about you?"

She shook her head, trying to compose herself, but her emotions were too raw. "You act like you're invincible, like you can handle anything the world throws at you. But you're wrong. You need rest and healing, not to go out there and get yourself killed."

You proceeded to not respond to her, pissed. You put on your suit ignoring the pain and enduring it. You guys we're always like this, you're not even surprised.

Minjeong watched in disbelief as Y/N struggled to put on the suit, each movement causing her pain. She couldn’t stand it anymore.

"Stop it. Just stop."

She stepped forward and firmly grabbed ahold of you, trying to keep you from moving. "You have to listen to me. You have to stop doing this. Look at yourself. You’re hurt, again. And you want to go out there and risk more just because your pride can't handle staying here and resting?"

"I'm fine, I'm not that weak that you always think I am. I'm capable of moving even with these injuries" You were kind of right, but of course minjeong still was the more righteous. Maybe, yes you were too prideful to admit you needed to rest and chill, but no. You wanted to be the best, seen as someone who you can always rely on. Never letting your guard down, that was the image you were aiming. Minjeong hated that, she wanted you to be safe.

"I never said you were weak," Minjeong retorted, her grip on you tightening slightly.

"You’re the most strong-willed and brave person I’ve ever met, but you can’t keep acting like you're indestructible. You’re only human, and you have limits. Ignoring your injuries and pushing through them won’t make you invincible. It’ll only make things worse."

She took a deep breath, her voice filled with a mix of anger and concern. "Can’t you just listen to me once?”l

"I don't need to listen to you." You pushed her hand off you, grabbing your mask and putting it on.

Minjeong's eyes widened in disbelief as Y/N disregarded her. She couldn't believe how stubborn you were being.

"Seriously?"

Minjeong's voice was filled with frustration and concern. "You're just going to ignore everything I said? Ignore the fact that you look like you went through a battle? Do you really care so little about your own well-being that you're willing to risk your life just for the sake of some misguided sense of responsibility?"

"You're acting like a damn child, you know that?" Minjeong clenched her fists, her anger getting the better of her.

"You’re not the only one who cares about protecting this city! You’re not the only one who feels responsible for keeping it safe! But you don’t see me out there getting beat up every other day. Because I have some sense self-preservation."

"we're different, minjeong. I'm spider-girl, and you're just an ordinary person." You said harshly, was it harsh? Or was the truth just harsh?

"Ordinary?" Minjeong repeated the word, feeling a pang of irritation. How could you think that way?

"Just because I can't swing from buildings and shoot webs doesn't mean I'm weak or 'ordinary.' I may not be a superhero, but I have strengths and abilities of my own. And I don't need powers to worry about you and care about your safety."

She stepped closer to you, her voice tinged with both anger and vulnerability.

"You act like you don't need anyone's help, like you have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. But you don't have to do everything alone, you know? You can rely on me. I can take care of you, just like I'm doing right now."

"I don't need you right now, I don't need to rely on you. I can do it by myself." You said as you turned away from her, looking out at the window. The night flow hitting your body perfectly.

"That’s bullshit, and you know it!" Minjeong's voice raised, her frustration reaching its peak.

"You say you don’t need me, that you can do it all by yourself, but look at you. You’re injured, hurting, and in no shape to go out there and get yourself hurt even more. But you’re too damn stubborn to even admit it, aren't you?"

You ignored her, you walked closer to the window.

"No, you don't get to walk away from me."

Minjeong's voice was firm as she grabbed your arm, preventing you from leaving through the window. She was not going to let you go out there in that condition.

"You're not going anywhere until we talk this through."

"You can’t just keep running away from your problems and pretending like you’re not hurt and in pain. You need to rest, to heal. And I’m not going to let you go out there and risk your life when you’re like this."

She held onto your arm tightly, her grip unyielding. She wasn’t about to let you go, not until she saw some sense.

"minjeong I said stop it!" You raised your voice at her smacking her arm off yourself, that was the first time you ever raised your voice at her, even laying a hand on her like that. You could never, right?...

A moment of shock filled Minjeong as Y/N yelled at her, the sting of your words adding to the physical pain. They'd had disagreements before, but you had never raised her voice like that or even made a physical move against her.

"What..."

Minjeong's voice faltered, her heart feeling as though it had just been punched. She stepped back, her eyes fixed on Y/N with a mix of hurt and disbelief.

You continued to look away, as you stare outside the window. The stars are appearing, it's night time. You have to hurry up.

"Don't act like you care so much about me now, you were the one who wanted to end things with me. You, you... You left me, so don't act like you love me, Kim minjeong."

Minjeong’s heart clenched at her words, pain and hurt mingling within her. She’d been the one who ended things, she knew that. But it didn’t mean she didn’t care about you… or that she didn’t love you.

"Don’t say that," she whispered, her voice filled with a mixture of sadness and desperation. "It’s not fair. Not now."

She took a step closer, her eyes locked on Y/N's back, she ran up. Hugged you. Her arms going to your neck, gripping your shoulders, touching your head even though you wore your mask.

"what's not fair minjeong? Tell me. Is it not fair that you ended our relationship just because you hated the fact that I'm spider-girl and I can't always give you what you want or is it not fair that I'm focusing on myself and on the people I care and my city now because I'm spider-girl." You said as you continued not to look at her, you let her hug you. But your body being stiff was a sign for your madness right now.

"I didn't hate the fact that you're spider-girl. I just... I hated seeing you put yourself in constant danger. I wanted you to be safe. I didn't want you to get hurt."

Minjeong's voice broke as she spoke, the words escaping in a rush of emotion.

"And what do you mean by ‘what I want’? I never asked for anything from you. I only ever wanted you to be safe and happy." She said weakly, her hands slowly caressing your head. As she slowly started to try to take off your mask.

"Stop." You said firmly.

"Show yourself to me, Y/N... Take off that mask, not now. Not you, my-... My girlfriend, please..." Minjeong said, what? You didn't understand. Why was she saying this? Why was she doing this. It irritated you more. It added more to your existential crisis.

For the last time, you gently. Pushed her off you, fixing your mask "Is it like this now, hm? It's me? And never spider-girl. If you can't love spider-girl, why love me."

You were going mad, it was obvious. You already had a lot of problems and now this kept on adding, you guys were turn off turn on.

"I'm tired minjeong. I don't want you beside me and always begging me to be more cautious, you think me? The one who saves the city is bound to be always safe? I have a universe to save. Its not that easy. If you were in my shoes you'd be pissed at the words that you're telling too." You say mad, you just needed to get it out. Now.

"Pissed? Sure, maybe. But I also wouldn't be so goddamn reckless all the time! I’d actually take my safety into consideration instead of acting like one person against a whole city."

Minjeong was beginning to sound frustrated again, her words filled with a mix of irritation and concern.

"You act like you have to shoulder everything alone, like everyone is counting on you and only you to save them. But you don't. You need help, damn it, whether you want it or not."

"you're unbelievable." Was all you could say as you sighed at her, you gave her a last look as you went out her window. Swinging into the city again. With unspoken words left right behind you, again. Why?

Minjeong stood there, watching you swing into the city, your silhouette slowly dissapearing. Her mind reeling from the conversation they'd had. She wanted to run after you, to stop you, but she knew it was too late.

Her emotions were a tangled mess of worry, anger, and love. But most of all, she felt the pain of knowing there were now more words left unsaid between them.

"Damn it." Minjeong muttered to herself, feeling the weight of her emotions crash into her like a wave. She sank down onto her bed, burying her face in her hands.

She hated fighting with Y/N. It always left her feeling vulnerable and exposed, like her heart had just gone through a tornado of pain.

"Why does she have to be so damn stubborn?"

Minjeong's thoughts echoed in her mind, replaying their argument over again.

Despite everything, she still cared. She still loved you. And that was the hardest part of it all.

After a few moments, the tears started to fall. She let herself cry, the soft sobs filling the quiet room. Her heart ached for Y/N, for the pain they were both feeling. But at the same time, her mind was filled with frustration and anger at Y/N, at herself, at the situation they had found themselves in.

She stayed there, tears streaming down her face, lost in the tangle of her emotions.

Again.

Again..

Again...

Why were you guys like this?

Why were you guys always headed to different paths?

Why couldn't you guys be each other's paths?

Was what kurayami thought as she swang in the quiet dead streets of new York as it was midnight.

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[desi2go]

Importance

pairings: dad!Chan x mom!reader

warnings: angst, fluff

summary: Having a child with an idol isn't easy...

author's note: I'm sorry that I couldn't post anything the last two weeks. But here I am with a new one!

Marriage wasn't easy. Especially when your beloved husband was an idol. The Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids.

Between tours and busy schedules, there was little time for your relationship. But even though it was hard and you missed him like hell when he was gone for a long time, you still didn't regret to come to your best friend Changbin's party years ago. There, you had met him.

Well, he didn't see you and accidentally poured his drink over you. When your eyes met, he was fascinated by your breathtaking beauty. Maybe it was destiny back then. It felt surreal, like he was your soulmate. The missing piece in in your heart and life.

Apologetic, he bought you a drink and after a wonderful night together, asked for your number.

Soon, he took you out on a date and there followed a second and a third, becoming a huge part in your life.

Without noticing, time passed and Chan proposed to you.

You immediately said yes and became Mrs. Bang.

The second you were married, your family asked when you both would begin to try for a baby but Chan and you wanted to wait some time before thinking about an addition to your family.

You still were young and Stray kids took much time and you understood that. Your job was also one of your top priorities and wanted to earn more money.

But it seemed that the universe had other plans with you two. Seven months after the wedding you started feeling sick. At first you brushed it off and thought that it is just a stomach bug or the stress due to work.

As the lovely but overly concerned husband that he is, Chan took you too a doctor to get a check up. Even though you found it a little bit overdramatic, he still insisted and the reason why you felt nauseous was soon found. You were indeed pregnant and already two months into pregnancy.

Sure, it wasn't planned but you and Chan felt excited to have a small addition to the family. And sooner or later it would have happend anyways.

Chan promised that when the pregnancy was farther along, he would take some time off and help you. You agreed to that and decided to work some more months too before you need to go into maternity leave.

The months passed fast and soon, you welcomed your newest family member. A girl. A sweet girl with already some black locks on her head and the same brown eyes that you fell in love with.

Chan was over the moon. Even though during labour, he was terrified. Would he be a good dad? But all these thoughts washed away when he saw the beautiful angel you both had created with your undying love.

He was the first one to hold her as her crying filled the room. Exhausted, you observed the picture in front of you. Your husband with his precious daughter that already looked like a smaller copy of him.

He was told to undress his shirt and to lay the little bundle of joy against his bare chest to help her breath and keeping her warmth while the doctor checked on you because you had lost a lot of blood during birth.

The first weeks were exhausting. Your little girl, Nari, held both of you awake most of the night. Yourself needed to heal and time to recover from the labor, so you relied mostly on your husband who took such good care for his girl. Fortunately, he got some weeks off to settle into parenthood before going back to the boys even though they nearly saw each other every day.

Since you got home from the hospital, four days after birth, they visited you to meet their 'little sister' as they called Nari. Oh lord, they were so smitten. The only one that seems not so sure about that little human was Seungmin but when he thought that nobody would watch, you catched him drawing circles over Nari's hands, smiling when she wrapped her hand around one of his fingers.

When Chan went back, the house was suddenly so empty. After weeks of being together 24/7, the sudden quiet was unfamiliar. In the mornings, Chan was already out, you loved to lay on the couch, your daughter on your chest, snuggling close to you while sleeping.

When Chan came back home in the evening, he greeted you with a kiss and immediately ran off to his daughter to tell her about his day even though she was already sleeping. You loved to observe him while cooking. You loved this little family. It was something that you ever wanted.

You really loved Nari. But after the pregnancy and early motherhood, you needed some space for yourself. You would love to spend an evening with your girls. Just making yourself look pretty and have fun without watching over a child.

Especially since you almost never leave the house except for some stroller walks and buying errands.

You asked your husband if he comes home some hours earlier so that you could enjoy your night. Immediately, he agreed and you were so grateful that he understood you.

On that day, you took your time with getting ready while your daughter slept. You hoped that Chan would be home soon so that you would be on time since you hated being late.

Minutes passed as you sat on the couch waiting for him. Minutes turned into half an hour and you wrote your girls that you would run a little late today. They were understanding.

More minutes passed and you waited already for a whole hour. You tried to call him since he was always so focused on his work so that he sometimes forgets the time.

He didn't pick up and you were already half an hour late. Your girls were already seated in your restaurant, waiting for you to show up so that they could start ordering food.

Sighing, you texted then that you couldn't make it and they shouldn't wait up on you. Frustrated, you cleared your face from the make up that was hours worth of work.

You took off the new dress that you had bought. You were so excited to wear it because it made you feel so pretty again after the pregnancy made you look bloated and your belly was still not the same then before.

You didn't know if you felt rage, sadness or disappointment that you needed to stay home because of your husband.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was the first time after he got back to work. He used to come back at a normal time to have some time with you and the baby. But as the weeks passed, he stayed later and got up earlier so that you saw him just for some minutes per day.

It was like you were all on your own here in your home. You knew from the beginning that Stray kids was really important to him but after entering parenthood you had hoped that he wouldn't stay till past midnight in the company.

You heard the key unlocking the front door and your husband finally decided to come home after he had promised you that he would be here three hours ago. He greeted you with a small peck on the forehead as you waited for him in the living room.

He looked so calm while dropping his bag to the ground and sitting down on the couch.

"Why are you standing there honey?" He asked. You crossed your arms. He didn't even remembered that this was supposed to be your night out.

"Why are you so late?" You tried to remain calm since your daughter slept in the neighbouring room.

"I was working on the newest song for stray kids" he explained.

"Oh really? Because you said you would be here hours ago" you didn't want to pick a fight. You hated fighting with him. It made your heart clench but this night was important to you.

"I'm sorry honey. But I needed to get it done"

"Well, I had plans for the night, Chan."

"Really? I'm sorry honey. I forgot and this song was important"

"The song was important? My reservation with the girls was important to me" you said and couldn't hold the calm tone that you wanted.

"I already said I'm sorry, Y/n. I got caught up in work" He grew annoyed.

"Like always. You're always so late that I wonder if you even remember that you have a family at home" You knew you were mean and unfair but all these things were twirling around your head for days.

"Of course I remember! I'm sorry that I make money for us" he exclaimed sarcastically. His voice loud, nearly shouting.

These words hurt you. He knew damn well that you aren't dependent on his money and that you make good money as well. Even though you currently took a maternity leave.

"Fuck you, Chan. You aren't the only one working. I was asking you for just one thing. Just being home a little earlier so that I could have some time for myself." You said loudly, your voice cracking in the middle as some tears stung in your eyes.

"Y/n. I-" he tried but you stopped him.

"Nari is your child too. Currently, I'm the only one she sees whether it's in the morning or in the evening. And I'm tired. Tired of being the only one raising her."

You heard cries from the other room. You must have woken up your sleeping daughter. Sighing, you excited the room and headed to Nari without waiting for an answer.

Chan knew that he went too far and that he was more away than home. And it pained him to not spend so much time with his daughter. Slowly he followed you to your daughter's room.

It was dimly lit and you sat in the rocking chair next to her crib with Nari in your arms, rocking her. He hated seeing her in distress and guilt crept up. He was a terrible father and an even more terrible husband.

You felt Chan's hot gaze on you. You knew that the guilt ate him alive right now. He couldn't fool you. Therefore you knew him too well.

After placing Nari back into her crib, giving her a light kiss on her soft skin that smelled so sweet like a baby. Your baby.

Then, you took Chan's hand and lead you outside to the kitchen, farther away from your daughter.

He just followed you, deep in thoughts.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry. I should have come early. And I know that parenting a child alone is difficult. I didn't want to lash out on you like that. I know that the meeting with your friends was important to you" he said and caressed your hand.

"I'm sorry too. It's obvious that you try to be around Nari as long and often as you can."

"No, you were right. I need to be here more. Especially with you both. I shouldn't let work take over so much" he said and pulled you into his arms.

His arms circled around your waist while yours travelled upwards into his fluffy locks. Exhausted he let his head fall on your shoulder, all the tension leaving his body.

"I love you Chan" you whispered.

"I love you too. You and Nari are the most important things in my life"

[ballsandbabes]

Connection Lost

authors note: I know this is a very sports themed blog, but i recently stumbled about some very interesting Infos for a love and deepspace character, that got me inspired// y/n = your name// not proof read// GIF not mine // Have fun <3

pairing: Luke (LADS) x fem!reader

summary: Well, its pure chaos,but basically Luke has the hots for reader, who is an informant for Sylus. So what happends when filthy thoughts enter Lukes mind, while he still has the link to his brother??

genre: romance, fluff

word count: 9.5k

The N-109 Zone was colder than you imagined.

Not the kind of cold that gnawed at your skin—though the recycled air in the outpost left much to be desired—but the kind that wrapped around your thoughts. Isolated. Quiet. Too quiet.

You were new here. An informant Sylus had handpicked for reasons still unclear. He’d said he needed someone sharp, someone who didn’t ask too many questions—and you? You couldn’t help it. You were curious about the N109 Zone and it inhabitants, especially about the twins.

You failed your Hunter Examn three times and thus exhausted the maximum number of attempts. Now you were banned and would never be able to become a Hunter. But that didn't mean you weren't good. You did things your own way, at your own pace. You needed your rhythm and that fell apart when they tried to squeeze you into the Hunter Guild mould. You were almost broken. And now here you are. In a new city, without a proper job and with broken dreams. In short, the last year just sucked. sometimes you wished you hadn't moved to Linkon to fulfil your dream of becoming a Hunter. You've had all sorts of jobs over the past few months, none of them well paid.

But when a black letter fluttered through your letterbox, your hitherto dreary life took off again. The mysterious organisation Onychinus had asked for you. In a fit of ‘I have nothing left to lose anyway’, you ventured into the forbidden zone. You had been subjected to a series of tests before you finally met him: Sylus. The head of the organisation. Gangster. Ready for violence. Handsome.

Sylus was loud, unpredictable, often seen with a too-wide grin and a datapad that blinked with encrypted secrets. And then there were the twins: Luke and Kieran. At first you found them totally annoying whenever you handed in your reports at HQ. Stupid questions, sarcastic remarks and just all-round idiocy, you thought. Most of the time, you were just annoyed when they were around.

Everything turned out differently than you thought. One evening, you made your way back to your flat in Linkon, with Sylus' new assignment in your pocket. Over the next few days, you were to shadow a person whose name had only been shortened to MC, a young woman. A Hunter. You had felt like you were being followed the whole time, but you didn't think anything of it, as the crowds in Linkon always increased in the evening. But by the time you turned into your street, it should have been too late. With a loud clang, something metallic hit you on the back of the head.

They had stolen all the documents from you that said anything about MC. The twins had searched for you after your long absence and brought you to the headquater's crane room. You had grown fond of sylus, why didn't you know? But you seemed to remind him of someone he knew. That was also the reason why he had ordered you to live at the base from now on. Before you could say anything about it, your city flat had been cancelled. And that's how you ended up here.

Sylus and the twins had become something like your family. You had lost your father in the war and you no longer had the wish to see your stepmother. You were alone. And to be honest it felt great, to be able to come home to someone, even if it was just the twins. The two of them fascinated you. They seemed to share a brain. Finished each other's sentences and always seemed to know what the other was thinking. it felt like they shared their senses and thoughts, in a sense that they felt closer to being one single entity split in half, than two regular brothers. As you figured out relatively quickly both remained with their own personal tastes and personalities, even though they were pretty similar. You always asked yourself, if that meant that they also had shared feelings.

That couldn't be true for Kieran, he was leaning over the armchair next to you with his head to the floor, reading a book. he was the younger of the two and also the slightly smaller one. He was the calm, reliable, and stubborn one of the two. Kieran didn't seem like the type to share his feelings with his brother.

Luke, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He was temperamental, unpredictable and vigilant. He also had a penchant for cold things, especially ice cream, as you noted. So being around him, felt always colder than the zone you were stationed in—until he wasn’t.

The first time he looked at you, really looked, it was like you’d stepped into someone else’s memory.

___ _ _ _

“Stop staring,” Kieran muttered to his brother one night after you’d left the surveillance room. You weren’t supposed to hear it. But the door hadn’t quite shut.

“I wasn’t,” Luke replied, voice sharper than usual.

“You feel her too. Don’t deny it. You know I can feel your nerves lighting up like a relay. She’s pretty. I get it,” Kieran said annoyed. For his nineteen years, he was sometimes quite altruistic and mature.

A pause.

“I don’t want you in this, Kieran,” Luke finally said, “Not this.”

The silence that followed was heavier than any gravity shift. What was that about? MC, the woman you were supposed to be shadowing? Granted, she really was a beauty. Did Luke fall in love with the young woman while sifting through all the footage? You had to suppress a little laugh. Sure, he was spontaneous and impulsive, but that was a new level of stupidity, even for him.

But at the same moment, that the smile appeared on your face, something else had spread. A kind of sadness. You loved spending time with the two of them, but Luke was your favourite. He always had suggestions for things to do, he took you out of your everyday life, he gave you the feeling of endless freedom. His sarcastic remarks, the silly remarks, they made you smile. You were totally blown away when he knocked on your door and wanted to take you for a night-time ride on his motorbike, in the zone.

But his affections already seemed to be focussed on someone else.

___ _ _ _

Since overhearing the twins' conversation, you had become curious. Could the two of them really read each other's thoughts? The more you researched it, the more you learned. So it was no wonder, that you learned quickly, that the twins shared more than DNA. They were psychic mirrors—linked by something deeper than blood. Thoughts, pain, senses… pleasure. It was said that if one twin dreamed, the other would wake remembering it. It was totally strange. How was that possible???

You started catching Luke looking at you more often. But he never said anything beyond protocol. Never broke rank. Never touched. You were pretty sure that this was a new task for sylus to keep an eye on you. So you thought nothing of it.

___ _ _ _

Until the night, when the rain came—acidic and red, scattering your outpost’s comms and knocking out part of the signal array. The rain in the N109 zone was almost toxic due to the air pollution. If it fell very heavily in the same place, it corroded the surface. Sylus didn't like the fact that you wanted to go out to do your chores. He thought it was stupid and careless, but now was time to shadow your target inconspicuously. So you went nevertheless. And now??

Now you were stranded inside the auxiliary hub, alone, until the door opened with a mechanical hiss and Luke stepped through, soaked and grim-faced.

“I came to check on you,” he said. His voice had an edge—like he was trying not to feel something too deeply.

You smiled, teasing despite the tension,“Sylus send you?”

“No,” he replied.

"Then Kieran send you to check," you figured. The silence stretched. Then, softly, almost like an admission, “Sylus is on duty...Some meeting. And Kieran...he doesn’t know I’m here.”

That caught you, “But… I thought you two—”

“Always,” Luke said, “We’re always connected. Every thought. Every flicker of sensation. If I burn my hand, he flinches. If I close my eyes and dream, he sees what I see.”

You swallowed,“So… right now, he—?”

Luke stepped closer, “Not if I block him. Which I can’t do for long, only a few minutes. But I had to try. He would be so mad if he knew I am here.”

He looked at you then, like you were the answer to a question he hadn’t dared to ask until now.

“Do you know what it’s like,” he murmured, “to never have a moment that’s only yours?”

You shook your head. It must be awful, to share everything. When not even your thoughts were your own.

“I want this. I want the moments we share. But I don’t want him to feel it too,” Luke admitted. There was a fragility in his voice that cracked the shield you’d seen him wear like armor. For once, Luke didn’t seem like the older, colder twin. He seemed… human. Longing. Afraid.

“What happens if you cut the link?” you asked.

He hesitated. “To be honest, there is no way to to so. But if I had to guess, I would say Pain. For both of us. It’d probably be like slicing a wire that runs through your bones.”

You reached up, fingers brushing his wrist. His breath caught—so did yours,“ I cant imagine what it must be like to not be your own person, but rather two. Then how about we make this moment yours.”

You two had sat down. You asked him if there was anything he wanted to say that was none of Kieran's business. That he always wanted to feel that was none of Kieran's business. And so a short, honest conversation began. Luke confessed that he had once been in love, but that it had been a bad thing that Kieran had interfered. Kieran had been afraid of losing his brother, of having to share and had always beaten the girl up. You had asked him if there had been anyone else after that. He had replied that he couldn't allow you to do that in his situation. Not if it was always under observation. This answer brought tears to your eyes. The idea of never being able to love because there would always be someone else around made you sad. It also occurred to you that it wouldn't be easy to find someone who was okay with this situation.

"There should be moments and feelings that belong only to you," you say, leaning slightly towards him.

Mirroring your actions, he leaned in as well, and you felt the hum of restrained energy ripple between you—like static caught in the air, like the moment before a lightning strike. Something seemed to pull you towards him. And as his lips met yours, a tremor ran through him. A split-second later, a burst of pain flared behind his eyes. He gritted his teeth and pulled away, clutching his temple.

“Kieran...he,” he gasped.

“He...what?,” you asked. He did not answer. He felt Kieran bite his hand, a warning. Luke had felt the pain too. Kieran had done it to remind him that he too would feel the pain and heartache if it backfired.

Luke had almost forgotten about that. If you didn't feel the same as him, it would just be a game for you, both brothers would have to feel the strong emotions of unrequited love.

___ _ _ _

Luke didn’t speak to you for three days after the kiss. Not in the halls of the N-109 outpost, not over the comms, not even a glance when you passed in the mess hall and brushed shoulders by accident—though you were sure it wasn’t an accident. You replayed that moment in the auxiliary hub over and over in your mind. The kiss. The way he’d said “He can’t hear me.” The pain that flared in him before silence fell.

And now that silence was everywhere. It wrapped around you like a shroud. You weren’t the only one who noticed. Sylus cornered you by the diagnostics console on the fourth morning. He leaned lazily against the panel, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in a look that was too casual to be innocent.

“Y/n, did you do something to Luke?” he asked bluntly.

You blinked, “What?”

“He’s been—off. Shut down. Like someone flipped all his switches halfway and forgot to put the rest back,” Sylus explained his point of view.

You gave him a wary look, “Maybe he’s just busy.”

Thats when Kieran felt the need to enter the conversation,a s he entered the room. He snorted,“My brother doesn’t get ‘busy.’ He gets obsessed. If he’s not working, he’s reading reports. If he’s not reading, he’s training. Lately, he’s doing none of that. You’re the variable.”

You tried to shrug it off, “We talked. That’s it.”

Sylus tilted his head, smile thin, “Talked, huh?” Kids these days were something different he thought. Kieran watched you a moment longer, something sharper in his eyes now, “I haven’t felt him lately. He cuts our connection sometimes....he has never done this before. It’s muffled. Like I’m hearing echoes through water.”

Your chest tightened,“You said once you shared everything. What happens if—?”

“If he cuts me out?” leaned closer, his voice dropping. “Then he’s hurting. Bad.”

You didn’t say anything, but Kieran wasn’t stupid. His eyes narrowed as the pieces clicked into place.

“Oh, no. Don’t tell me he—? Ohhh. He did.”

You looked down, voice barely above a whisper, “He said he wanted something that was his. Just for once.”

Kieran straightened slowly, the amusement drained from his face.

“He wouldn’t do that. Not unless…,” He trailed off, then swore under his breath,“He’s falling. That idiot.”

“Falling?,” you echoed.

“In love,” Kieran said bitterly,“Which is exactly why he’s avoiding you now.”

"That would explain a lot," Sylus chimed in. You stared at Kieran, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Kieran ran a hand through his hair, “Oh, it makes perfect sense if you know Luke. He feels things harder than I do. Deeper. He tries to control it, manage it like a system, but if he falls for you—then it’s not just him anymore. It’s me too. I’ll feel it. Every heartbeat. Every ache. Every crack. Every longing.”

You stepped back, suddenly cold,“You’d feel it if his heart breaks?”

Kieran nodded,“Down to the last shattered piece.”

Seeing the shock on your face, Sylus stepped in,"We should probably have told you this earlier.... There is an organisation that is experimenting with the protocores on humans. Luke and Kieran come from just such a lab. They were born twins and orphans. That's why. times chose them, or so we assume. I found them on one of my missions when they were just six. They've lived and worked here with me ever since."

"Both Luka and I each have a piece of the same protocore in our bodies. We don't know where exactly, but it connects us and makes us one person," Kieran explained further.

You couldn’t believe it. Not really, but the tears in your eyes said something different.....This was horrible. You could never grasp what the both of them must have been through.

Not until later that night, when you found Luke standing alone on the northern perimeter of the dome, hands clasped behind his back, watching the storm swirl outside like it could wash away whatever he was wrestling with.

“Luke,” you said softly. He stiffened, didn’t turn.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you tried again. He didn’t answer.

“I deserve to know why,” was your last try.

He was silent for a long moment, before speaking in a low voice, rough with restraint, “I suppressed the link to give you a moment that was mine. Just mine. I thought… I could hold onto it. Like a keepsake. But I underestimated the pain Kieran would feel, if the connection was lost. I cant imagine what it would feel like if I cut him off forever...the pain...”

Your heart twisted,“Then why are you shutting me out? Maybe I can help?”

He finally turned. His eyes were tired—dark circles under them, skin pale under the faint glow of the perimeter lights. His voice cracked like something barely held together,“Because I don’t want to fall in love with you.”

Silence dropped like a blade.

“Luke—,” you were taken aback.

“If I do,” he said, taking a step back, “you’ll be in every thought. Every breath. And if I lose you… it won’t just hurt me. Kieran will feel it too. He won’t say it, but he will. We’re not just connected—we’re entangled. We always have been.”

He looked down at his hands, as if they were covered in something he couldn’t scrub off.

“I suppressing the link would make it easier. But it didn’t. I still feel everything, more even, I can feel his pain, his anger towards me” he admitted.

You took a step toward him, and he didn’t move.

“Then don’t do it alone,” you said gently, “If you’re scared, I’ll be scared with you. But don’t pretend it didn’t mean anything. It did. To me.”

He looked up, and for the first time, you saw fear behind his usual calm—raw and honest.

“I’m not afraid of pain,” he whispered, “I’m afraid of what happens if you’re the one to walk away.”

You reached out, took his hand, “Then don’t give me a reason to.”

He didn’t pull away. For now, the storm stayed outside.

___ _ _ _

Let it be said: sneaking around a top-secret blacksite base controlled by Onychirus is technically treason. But it doesn’t feel like treason when Luke has his hand on the small of your back and is tugging you into some obscure storage closet between Section 4 and the emergency escape corridor. The lights in here flicker like a bad romance holodrama.

“Are we seriously doing this again?” you ask, breathless from running. Luke’s smirk is all slow, dangerous confidence,“We’re alone.”

“Until Sylus finds us and ejects us into space,” you teased. He kisses you anyway.

Across the base, Kieran groans and slams his datapad onto the table. It bounces, nearly shattering against the steel surface.

“He’s doing it again,” he growls to no one in particular.

The mercenary standing nearby flinches,“Who’s doing what?”

“My brother. My emotionally-repressed genius brother who thinks suppressing a psychic bond is the same thing as disabling it.” Kieran pinches the bridge of his nose,“I’m getting secondhand butterflies. BUTTERFLIES. You know what that feels like? Like indigestion and emotional weakness. In my chest.”

The merc hurries away. Too much family drama.

___ _ _ _

Back in the closet, Luke’s lips brush against your jawline like it’s classified. His hands settle on your waist and stay there.

“You’re laughing,” he says against your skin.

“I’m not,” you say clearly giggling.

“You are. I can feel it,” he smiled.

You giggle anyway and swat at him,“You’re supposed to be cold and mysterious.”

“I’m a liar,” he murmurs, before kissing you again. The whole thing is reckless, warm, and a little awkward—especially when you both bump into a shelf of prototype drone parts and nearly knock an entire crate over.

CLANK.

You both freeze. Luke whispers, “We need to be more careful.”

You whisper, “You’re the one with your hands on my ass.”

“…Noted.”

After the butterfly flew away, Kieran was able to get back to work. He stares at a half-finished data schematic and suddenly drops his stylus. His hand flexes. His heart rate spikes.

“What now,” he mutters aloud. A flash of heat wavers through his body. A shiver of tension. Someone is kissing. He is kissing? No, not him. Not really.

“Luke,” he growls, eyes narrowing, “You absolute idiot.”

"Like its a suprise", Sylus low voice said suddenly, "I want you to finish your work properly, lets go get the two. This needs to end."

And he was right. Kieran hadn't been able to concentrate on his work for a fortnight because his brother's feelings and senses had been transferred to him. Strong ones at that. It practically put him out of action.

___ _ _ _

“Found them,” Sylus announces five minutes later, as he opens the closet door with the force of a judge issuing a death sentence.

You and Luke spring apart like guilty teenagers caught making out behind a gym—which, emotionally, is basically what this is. Sylus stares at the scene in front of him: Luke’s jacket half-off, your lipstick smeared, both of you wide-eyed like escapees from a romance drama.

“You know,” he says flatly, “I may be the leader of a semi-illegal black ops mercenary syndicate, but even I have standards. A closet, really???”

Luke brushes imaginary dust off his shirt. “We weren’t—”

“I KNOW WHAT YOU WERE DOING. I FELT IT THROUGH THE BOND, Luke. I had to stop working because you were ‘probably not being tortured.’” Kieran gestures with both hands, enraged, “Do you have any idea how awkward it is to get secondhand arousal from my own twin? This is emotional WARFARE.”

“Sorry,” you apologized sheepishly.

Sylus turns to you, eyes narrowed. “And now to you young Lady. I trusted you.”

“Wait, what?,” all exclaimed, turning to face Sylus.

He waves you off. “Not really. But still. I had higher hopes.”

“You didn’t have to feel it if you weren’t so nosy,” Luke turned now to his brother.

Kieran makes an exasperated noise that sounds like a dying engine,“You suppressed the bond, not shut it down. You can’t mute a fire alarm by shoving a sock in your ears!”

Luke raises an eyebrow,“That’s not how fire alarms work.”

Kieran groans into his hand,“You know what? Fine. Go ahead. Keep sneaking around like horny civilians on shore leave. I’ll just be here. Being the right hand to a cutthroat corporation. Babysitting my psychically-linked disaster of a brother who keep getting emotionally entangled with his co-worker.”

As he storms off, you and Luke exchange a look.

Luke shrugs, “So… back to the closet?”

“Let’s try the ventilation shafts this time,” you grin, “More plausible deniability.”

In the shadows of the base, Kieran sits in silence, eyes glowing faintly blue. He taps into the bond—just for a second—and feels the echo of your lips against Luke’s. Kieran’s jaw tightens,“…He’s going to get himself killed.”

But there’s a faint smile on his face.

___ _ _ _

Sylus kicked the door to HQ open with all the dramatics of a man juggling a galaxy's worth of secrets in one arm and a mysterious woman in the other.

“Alright,” he grunted, dragging her in by the wrist, “we've got a guest.”

The woman—MC, as she introduced herself—was cold-eyed, scarred, and strangely calm for someone who’d just been pulled out of a top-security Onychirus intel hunt. Her presence was charged. Not psychic. Not kinetic. But undeniably… known.

And Luke, standing across the command deck, barely noticed her. Because you were standing just beside her. You. Hair a little messy from recon. Cheeks flushed from the elevator ride. Laughing softly at something Sylus had muttered.

Luke’s jaw clenched. His heart rate spiked. He looked away, hard. Suppress it. Focus.

“...and this,” Sylus was saying, gesturing toward MC, “this is an intruder send by the hunters. Wanted to attend an auction but merely was desguised. Beginners mistake. But there are also some good news, the hunters know a lot. Maybe shes someone who knows how to sever and reestablish twin psych-links.”

Silence.

Luke’s head snapped up so fast Kieran looked over, alarmed.

“Sorry—what?,” Kieran asked, crossing his arms, stepping out of the shadow like a very irritated backup drive.

MC nodded slowly. “I, myself have a protocore in my body, therefore I read your neural sequencing. You’re "broadcasting" on an open shared frequency. Crude but stable. With the right focus node, it’s possible to turn the link off temporarily… and back on, without psychic recoil.”

Sylus blinked, “You're telling me these two could—what—toggle their brains like Bluetooth?”

MC just smiled,“Basically.”

Luke forgot how to breathe. MC handed Sylus something, “The calibration protocol’s inside. Use a neuro-sink, boost frequency buffering, and you’ll get privacy.”

Privacy.

Luke made a noise that was halfway between a cough and a desperate prayer.

Sylus didn’t even look up. “I swear to the void, if you two start dry-humping across my air vents the minute you get emotional autonomy, I’m going to jettison myself into space.”

And thats, how all of you spend the afternoon. You tested it. Neuro-sync chamber. Calm lighting. A quiet hum. MC guiding Kieran and Luke through mental alignment, then detachment.

Luke stared. He felt the link to his brother loosen. He stood up. Kieran blinked at the sudden action,“You good?”

Luke walked right past him. You were still in the hall, besides the little room MC, Kieran and Luke tried to disable the link, when Luke emerged, and it only took a look for everything to combust. He walked straight to the hall. Straight to you.

“Are you—?,” you began to question. And then he was on you. Mouth crushing against yours. Hands gripping your hips, pulling you into him like you were the only solid thing left in the universe. You gasped into his mouth. He groaned.

“Oh my stars—,” Kieran’s voice echoed from the comm system. “Were not fully detached.”

MC coughed politely in the background.

“Can they breathe?” she asked.

“They’re young. Let them burn it off,” Sylus said, sipping from his thermal flask,“They’ll pass out eventually.”

___ _ _ _

By the time you and Luke emerged in the dinner hall—clothes slightly rumpled, hair an arguable disaster—Sylus was reviewing MC’s data, waiting for dinner to be served and Kieran had fully committed to pretending you didn’t exist.

“Are you okay?” you asked him.

He scowled,“Your boyfriend’s psychic horniness just leaked through the backup link and I got a vision of a janitor’s closet that I wish I could unsee.”

Luke didn’t even pretend to be sorry. Sylus sighed deeply, not looking up from the display,“If you break anything while making out, you're both getting reassigned to waste-processing in a Nebulon outpost.”

You saluted. Luke smirked.

Luke had you. His head was clear. His brother wasn’t screaming. And teenage horny chaos reigned supreme.

[twopoppies]

https://www.tumblr.com/twopoppies/781726759280377856/regarding-holivia-if-i-remember-right-she-was

Sorry for chiming in but I don’t think she was at his show after the bua.

The last time she was at his show was his last LA show in 2022 (Nov 16th, I think it was Wednesday?) where H looked more done than after running a marathon. Then H was like “bitch I don’t even want this stunt money on my account, let’s spend it” and bought new Ferrari lmao, then holivia bua dropped around weekend, H left LA and next time we saw him on his first LatAm show being totally heartbroken and depressed (irony).

Anyway back to that last LA show where OW went (and even took her kids 💀) and that moment with lanyard happend - I saved some printscreens that day so enjoy for a funny throwback we deserved after that nightmare (sorry, don’t have links to these)

Oh my god you’re right! They BUA came right after and said they had broken up days earlier, so it made it look like she showed up after the breakup. Honestly, everything was overshadowed by how happy we all were. And then Harry left for LatAm and was happier than we’d seen him in literal years.

Also, those screenshots are GOLD. Thank you for sharing. And correcting me!!

[bentosnackbox]

"Girl, just let me know / We can take it slow."

lyrics: "Break from Toronto" *(2013 -

PARTYNEXTDOOR

part two

MENTIONS : situationship, mentions of sex, gojo, suguru and shoko r also in the same age range, unprotected sex, pussydrunk!megumi, backshots, ghosting, alcohol, blunts, partying, college AU, fratboy megumi kinda..?, sexting, cursing, athlete megumi, pro basketball player megumi.

ALL CHARACTERS APE 18+ IN THIS AU !!

DISCLAIMER : MDNI (im not responsible of what you see on the internet, but still cmon guys let's not Imao)

guys this is my first time writing a fic... like ever!! so don't expect it to be good i'm still working on it lol.

also if u see me make a grammar mistake it's cuz english isn't my first language, so there will be some mistakes sadly

i plan on writing more fics if this blows up or i get comments n likes asking for more... anyways !!

there will be more parts cuz i'm too lazy too put everything in one part Imao sorry

master list : part one, part two, part thee

| answer the goddamn Phone when i call you.

i feel my hands slowly starting to sweat and itch from my nervousness from the message.

“anwser the phone when i call you..?” i repeat under my breath

fuck i’m screwed.

shoko isn’t here, i already opened the message and im getting A CALL FROM HIM.

think quick y/n think fucking quick.

i think back at my new year’s resolution

“focus on yourself and live stress free” that’s it.

i get overwhelmed as i see him typing again.

shit i left him on read for the past 13 minutes and still haven’t written my response back.

i decide to block his number again.

it’s exam season right now anyways so i’m not so worried about him or my dating life.

_____

SPRING PARTY AT THE FRATHOUSE | 7 PM APRIL 7th 2025

after a month of blocking megumi and ghosting him he finally gave up

turns out he got drafted into the nba for the new season of 25/26 and is pretty busy living in his L.A mansion.

according to his instagram posts of course.

not that i’ve been stalking him or anything.

shoko is convincing me to go to this spring break party at the frat boy estate near our campus

the villa me and megumi last spoke to each other.

“cmon girl come onnn” shoko says as she’s searching for her lashes and the glue in her makeup bag.

“shoko i can’t step into that house you literally know why” i say plopping into bed unmotivated asf.

“girl it’s been 1..2..3, 3 fucking months i swear you need to get over him. come onnn you can talk to all the cute boys there !!” she says now fixing her lashes as she already glued them on.

“and it’s not like he’s going to be there y/n i’m pretty sure he’s flown across the country right now”

“you think so?”

“oh trust me i know.”

and with a lot of convincing and girl talk i relentlessly decide to go.

with that i’m sitting at the bar with a piña colada on the counter while playing with the straw out of pure boredom.

i suddenly feel someone wrapping their toned slightly muscular arm around my waist.

i recognize that arm.

it was megumis.

he’s sitting next to me at the bar while ordering a drink and turning to face me afterwards.

i feel his gaze on me and try covering my face with my hair as i continue looking forward ignoring him.

“you know i know you see me right..?”

“um i guess i uh idk sorry” i mumble out.

shit why am i nervous. he did me wrong?

listen to what shoko said y/n-

he tucks my hair behind my ear causing me to look at him.

“i missed you you know?” he mumbles out.

fuck he knows this is where i’m literally weak at.

that bastard.

i look at him sighing.

“m’ sorry for ghosting you gumi.”

“s’ fine but why did you do it?”

i think of an excuse fast because fuck he can’t know the real reason can he?

“i’ve been stressed with schoo-“

“don’t bullshit me y/n”

i go quiet.

fuck he caught on.

“i’ve known you since we were kids, i know when you’re fucking lying. cmon tell me what really happend”

i suddenly feel my vision get blurry.

he immediately notices me starting to cry and caresses my cheek in a soothing manner.

“y/n s’ okay baby let it all out m’ here for u”

and so i do.

and after a drink or two we talk about it and laugh about stupid stuff.

“so let me get this straight,” he says smirking “you thought i freindzoned you eventho i fucked you raw?”

“well yeah it’s not like you meant it right… the fucking part-“

i get cut off by his now serious glare.

“do i need to prove it to you baby?”

i nod.

fuck why did i even nod? why the fuck was that my first instinct? literally what the hell happend..?

and with that nod i got into this position

yup. i’m getting fucked by THE megumi fushiguro again and yup this is his way of apologizing to me.

_____

MEGUMIS HOTEL APARTMENT | 1 AM APRIL 8th 2025

as soon as we enter the room he undresses me and takes off my dress.

he sees my black bra with a little bow in the middle and a matching pantie

“fuck, you wore this f’me?” he asks smirking as he traces the lace of my panties.

i nod.

he lets out a whimper

not even sure why

oh he got hard.

after he pushes me onto the bed and climbs ontop of me he starts to kiss me passionately and deeply.

we’re both moaning into the kiss and grinding against each other.

he moves down inbetween my thigs from my mouth and kisses my inner thighs.

“so wet f’me” he says licking my panties over my sensitive clif as i moan

“just put it in gumi! stop teasing me” i say whimpering

he lets out a laugh “fine mama just cuz you asked nicely tho”

he takes my panties off using his teeth and looking up at me smirking

fuck he’s so hot.

“fuck mama— ur pussy is so fucking perfect”

he murmurs inbetween my folds sticking his tongue up in there.

i let out a muffled moan as he makes out with my clit infront of me.

after making me cum on his face he kisses me deeply making me taste my own juices.

“yeah you taste that baby?” he says smirking against my lips

i nod whimpering and blushing

“gonna take my dick like a good girl? gonna let daddy fill you up mama?”

he says smirking down at me while taking his basketball shorts and boxers down to reveal his already throbbing dick with leaking pre coming out of the flush tip.

i nod again.

“atta girl” he says putting his dick into my wet pussy.

i whine out a moan as his thrusts get harder and harder.

“shit mama— so tight f’me” he says grinning as he feels my gummy walls clench around him

after going at it in missionary for over half an hour he positions me on my belly making me face the the pillow

in which i burry my face in.

the backshots.

i feel my tears staining my plush cheeks and ruining my lashes slightly

i feel him grab a fistful of my hair and suddenly pulling them so hard it causes me to yank my head back and arch my back

my vision was slightly blurry from the crying but i noticed something

a light..?

but it was dark in the room

i put two and two together,

he’s fucking recording.

but megumi fushiguro fucks me so good i don’t even care anymore.

“you gon leave me after this mama?” he asks smirking as his thrusts become more needy

“no gumi!” i scream out whimpering

“you gon block my number? or ghost me again baby?” he says now in a more serious tone

i shake my head and moan “no!”

he lets out a laugh “that’s my good girl”

“cuz if you do im gonna have to remind you of who you belong to” he murmurs in a serious tone under his breath.

he’s continues asking me questions like ‘who owns this pussy?’ or ‘you’re never gonna leave me again are you mama?’ knowing damn well i’m too fucked out to speak

hell, i can’t even fucking think.

oh but megumi knows,

and he loves the way he can tease the shit out of me.

so i just nod

and damn that turns him on.

he thrusts even harder and deeper moaning my name

his dick is milking tf out of my poor g spot.

pretty sure it’s bruised after our fuck.

i let out a pornographic moan as he’s thrusting even harder

after fucking me dumb he comes inside me and moans

“fuck— mama ur pussy was made f’ me”

he says whimpering and stops recording as he collapses ontop of me

bubbly and sticky cum coming out of my hole

dick still inside, still cumming and still twitching

he kisses my temple while saying “i bet shokos gonna fucking love this baby” and smirks.

i turn to him

“gumi?”

“yeah baby?”

“can i get some aftercare pls” i say quietly

i feel him smile against my neck before kissing it

“of course c’mere baby”

and after taking a bath together, changing into our pyjamas and him calling room service at 3AM to change our stained bedsheets

we finally lay in bed together.

just the two of us.

my thoughts get interrupted from a kiss on my forehead

“i love you y/n” he says smiling

i nuzzle closer into his chest

“i love you too gumi”

he smiles against my hair

“so i guess we’re dating now huh?” he asks laughing

i giggle “yupp!!”

_____

MEGUMIS HOTEL APARTMENT | APRIL 8th 11 AM

i wake up from a note on his side of the bed saying

‘coach called me in earlier for practice today so i had to leave sorry sweat cheeks! there’s clothes in my closet that you can use tho’

i feel a soft smile creep onto my face

and hear a sudden text message notification.

SHOKO PUFFS !!

| girl why are you getting layed by megumi?

| we talked about this

| i thought you were over him

| 🤦🏻‍♀️

how did shoko know?-

that’s when i realized.

that bastard sent her the video.

@bentosnackbox original work, do not copy or reposted without credits/ tagging me

[queer-scots-geordie-dyke]

Im so confused by what happend in eurovision

Like on one hand she was getting threts all the time and every video on the esc channel has an insane like to dislike ratio

On the other hand she got to the second place

On the other hand all the contestants ignored her

On the other she didnt get booed as much

But also all thos who REALLY hate us just didnt vote at all cuz they're "boycotting"

Could it really be a loud (and online) minority? Thos who hate us? Is the world just a bit better then it seems? Or am i looking for something that isnt there?

Honestly, I think there are far more people who quietly support and stand with you than the very loud and hateful contingent, who feel the need to be as noisy and obnoxious as possible. Obviously, I won’t ever downplay the seriousness and the horror of the explosion in antisemitism over the last couple of years, because clearly it is very real and has caused immense amounts of pain, but it was very heartening to see the public vote overwhelmingly for Yuval, and my own country, the UK, our public gave her the maximum 12 points which definitely restored my faith a little bit, ngl.

[f1goat]

his masseur x lando norris

In which you're Lando his best friend and masseur, but your feelings start to cause a bit of trouble.

Requested: yes Warnings: small mentions of sexual content / not proof read

Tuesday - August 2022

“Maybe you can sleep in my bed this time?” Lando asks you. 

You look up surprised. This is new.

“What’s wrong with the guest room?” You ask still surprised.

“Nothing!” Lando quickly exclaims, “but I’m tired but I also don’t want to stop cuddling like this. So I thought we could sleep together.. Maybe?” 

You notice that Lando is rambling now. You smile at him. “That sounds great,” you say with a genuine smile.

Lando leaves his earlier position to get of the couch. You think about what’s happening. Maybe it’s weird for friends to cuddle as much as you and Lando do. Maybe it’s even weirder that you’re going to sleep in the same bed as him. But it’s not like you mind. You have been crushing on Lando forever, so every little thing you can have you take willingly.

Thursday - November 2022

“Happy birthday Lan!”

You kiss him on his cheeks. Lando pulls you even closer to him so the two of you can hug properly. After a bit you release yourself from his hug so you can give him his present. You hand him over the present you carefully wrapped with an orange wrapping paper. You watch how Lando unties the golden ribbons. 

His face lits up when he sees the present. You smile as well from his happy reaction. It’s safe to say he loves the new microphone you got him. It’s themed with everything he likes. The Quadrant logo and colors are covering the stand part, while the mic itself is a bit more McLaren themed. 

“I thought you could use a new one for your streams,” you tell him. 

“You’re amazing!” Lando exclaims enthusiastic. He pulls you closer to himself again. It doesn’t take more then a few seconds before he’s hugging you once again. 

“I love it,” he tells you softly, “You know me the best!”

Sunday - December 2022

“Finally a well deserved break,” Lando says. 

You nod. “You were amazing this season,” you tell him. 

Lando smiles gratefully. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he tells you even more grateful. 

“Don’t say that,” you say quickly, “It was all you. I’m just massaging you.”

“I’m glad you’re on my team,” Lando says, “so I might have a tiny surprise to thank you for that.”

“A tiny surprise?” You ask.

“I booked us a hotel here, so we can spend a week together. We can do some fun things! Like exploring the city and go buggy riding in the desert.”

“That’s not a tiny surprise,” you tell him while laughing.

“Oops,” Lando just says.

“Are you thanking everyone on your team like that?” You ask.

“I send the rest a nice thank you card,” Lando replies.

You laugh.

Sunday morning - January 2023

“I can’t wait to spend the whole year with you again,” Lando softly says. The clock just stroke midnight. Lando is sitting next to you on the couch. You’re with friends, but everyone is busy with wishing each other a happy new year. Something you should do as well, but you’re enjoying your small private moment with Lando. 

“Me too Lan,” you say, “and a happy new year to you!”

“Happy new year!” Lando replies happily.

He comes closer to you. You want to press a kiss to his cheek, like you always do with friends while wishing them a happy new year. Lando seems to have the same idea. You don’t know how it happend, but in some way Lando his lips end up on yours.

“Oh fuck,” you say.

It didn’t even last two seconds, but it feels like an eternity. 

“Sorry!” Lando quickly says.

“It doesn’t matter Lan, nothing happened. I’m going to wish the others a happy new year as well.”

Lando watches you when you walk away. He sighs. “Yeah, nothing happened. Just my feelings for you,” he mutters annoyed. 

Thursday night - February 2023

“Thanks for picking me up,” you tell Lando.

“It’s nothing, how was the date?” Lando asks you.

You sigh. “Since I texted you a few hours earlier then we discussed I think you can conclude that it was bad.”

“I don’t get it. Why do you keep going on dates with types like this?” Lando asks you.

“I don’t know either,” you sigh. You think about who you really want. The guy next to you who’s currently driving you home in his McLaren. Lando is silent, he’s thinking about how it shouldn’t feel this way. Every time he picks you up he’s happy that your date didn’t go well. He can’t be like this. His jealousy is rising up way too much recently.

“I think I’m going to stop dating for a while,” you tell Lando after a bit of silence, “Maybe I’m not ready yet,” you add.

Lando can’t stop himself from smiling. It’s insane how relieved he feels suddenly.

Friday night - March 2023

“Would it be weird if we kissed?”

You look up at Lando. Does he even know what he’s asking you right now? It’s not like you can blame him right now. He’s drunk. But still, you let out a small sigh when you think about his question. Yes it would be weird, but you wouldn’t care about that. 

“I kinda want to kiss you,” Lando continues.

Butterflies are all over the place inside of you. You don’t have to check the rear mirror in Lando his car to find out your cheeks are red. You feel flustered. You try to focus on driving, but Lando is making it hard for you. For the second time that evening you remind yourself about Lando his condition. He’s drunk. Carlos and Max texted you before to warn you and when you picked up Lando you quickly noticed it as well. You can’t take his words serious right now, he’s drunk. 

“You’re drunk Lan,” you tell him after doubting for a bit, “but yes, it probably would be weird. We have been friends forever.” You don’t tell him that you don’t mind the weird aspect. You also don’t tell him about your feelings from the last years for him. 

“If you say so,” Lando sighs. 

You hope Lando doesn’t asks questions like this again. Or not like this. He can ask questions like this, but not when he’s drunk and his words are meaningless. 

Saturday morning - March 2023

“Fuck,” Lando grunts, “That was just what I needed.” 

You release a bit off the harsh pressure you used earlier. Slowly you massage further. Since you graduated last year, you’ve become Lando his personal masseuse. You’ve been lucky when McLaren hired you for it. Since then you join Lando and his - and your - team to every race. Meaning you can spend a lot of time with Lando. 

“I thought so,” you tell Lando smilingly.

Lando lets out a soft moan. Something that can give you weird butterflies sometimes, but now you’re getting used to it. It’s just because your massaging him. 

“You seemed pretty drunk last night,” you add.

“Oh god,” Lando grunts, “Please don’t remind me. I have no memories left. Sorry that you needed to pick me up like that.” 

You let out a soft disappointed sigh. You already expected this, but still. It would be nice if Lando remembered what he told you last night. It’s nothing new. Things like this happen way too often. 

“It doesn’t matter Lan, that’s what friends do,” you tell him to comfort him.

“Hm, friends yeah,” Lando sighs. 

“What do you mean?” You ask.

Lando doesn’t really respond anymore. You put a bit more pressure on his abs while massaging him. While you do so you think about multiple weird situations you had with Lando. 

“Maybe we can have a night in tonight? After qualifying,” Lando suggests after a bit. “We can watch some movies or something, whatever you like,” he adds.

“I kinda planned a selfcare night,” you tell Lando, “but maybe we can combine it?” 

“I’m in,” Lando tells you happily. 

“Great!”

Saturday - April 2023

“Y/n, it’s time for my massage.”

You look up surprised. Lando is standing in front of you and Pierre. What is he talking about? You just massaged him earlier. You’re free for the rest of the day. 

“Let’s talk further another time,” Pierre tells you.

You just met him. He seemed nice. Maybe you can finally find some other friends on the grid as well? 

“That sounds great,” you tell Pierre excited. 

You almost start to think that Lando lets out a scoff, but you’re probably wrong. You walk closer to Lando and he takes you with him to his drivers room.

“I already massaged you Lan, what was that about?” You ask him confused.

“I just got a bit of pain in my shoulder,” Lando mutters.

“Okay, can you pull of your shirt?”

When Lando feels your hands on his painless shoulders, he feels happy again. Maybe it was childish, but he didn’t see another way to get you away from Pierre and back to himself.

What’s going on with him?

Wednesday - May 2023

“I think I’m in love with y/n.”

“No shit,” Max sighs, “It took you forever to find out.”

Lando looks at his friend. Was he that transparant?

“So when will you tell her?” Max asks.

“Never!” Lando says quickly. He almost shouts. “What do you think that’ll happen? She doesn’t return my feelings, everything will become awkward and then I will lose her.”

“For fuck sake,” Max sighs, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Max, you have to keep this a secret,” Lando almost begs, “I can’t lose y/n.”

“You’re such an idiot.”

Saturday - June 2023

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” Lando moans.

You slowly apply more pressure to his body. Your hands roam around Lando his necks and shoulders carefully. When you come closer to his neck, Lando can’t withhold another soft moan. You start to feel the well known butterflies flatter around in your body.

Lando doesn’t stop. He keeps letting out soft sounds that show you exactly what you’re doing to him. After a bit you notice that you’ll get an even bigger reaction when you massage him on a specific spot close to his neck. You can’t help yourself and don’t stop touching him there. Can it be his sweet spot? You wonder what will happen when you let your lips touch his neck right on that spot. Fuck, you shouldn’t think like this.

“Can you lie down on your back Lan?” You ask a bit later.

Lando shuffles a bit, but he doesn’t move to lie down on his back. You wonder what’s going on. 

“Lan?” You ask.

“Give me a few minutes,” Lando tells you. 

“Is something wrong? You need to tell me if you feel uncomfortable or painful when I do something,” you say.

“No!” Lando quickly replies, “It’s far from wrong.”

You don’t get it at first, but then Lando lies down on his back. You notice the bulge that formed itself in his pants. Lando doesn’t look at you. Something that comes in quite handy right now, because you’re smile isn’t really professional anymore.

Sunday - July 2023

Lando his qualifying at Silverstone went amazing. He got the second place and that as his home race. This is amazing. Currently the two of you are laying on the couch. You’re feeling relaxed while spending time like this with Lando. 

“Maybe I can massage you a bit?” Lando suggests, “Reverse the roles  for once.”

“That seems nice.”

Lando helps you to find a comfortable position on his lap. His hands slowly find your shoulders. He’s quick to apply a bit of pressure on them. You let out a soft sigh of relaxation. It’s been way too long since someone massaged you. That’s the disadvantage of being a masseur, everyone always expects you to massage them and not the other way around. 

“How does this feel?” Lando asks you. 

It feels like his hands are touching you everywhere at once. You haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time. He’s slowly massaging your neck and you can’t stop yourself from letting out a soft moan. 

“Like you should do this more often,” you answer Lando jokingly.

You don’t tell him that you already feel yourself getting wet. Fuck. Why does he have to have such big, strong hands? That also feel insanely good on your body?

***

A few hours and a movie and some YouTube video’s later you’re still laying against Lando. The two of you are cuddled up on the couch in your hotel room. Lando plays with your hair while he focuses on the television in front of him. You can’t seem to focus anymore. Your mind keeps filling up with thoughts about Lando. 

“I’m glad you’re on my team,” Lando tells you suddenly, “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You’re the one who’s racing this good,” you reply. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando says slowly, “but I couldn’t have done any of this without your support. It means the world to me that you’re always here.”

“There’s no place where I would be rather.”

“Promise me you’re in for a long time?” Lando asks you.

Without even thinking about it you stick out your pink. Lando is quick to wrap his own around yours.

“I promise Lan and if you join another team, I’ll do everything I can to join them as well.”

“I’m not going anywhere else if you can’t join me,” Lando says, “If they want me, they get you as well.”

You laugh. 

Sunday - July 2023

You haven’t seen Lando for a while now. The two of you are in some sort of night club with a lot of the other drivers. Earlier today Lando got his second place. His first podium of the season. He even drove a couple laps as race leader. Things were amazing. You haven’t been proud, excited and happy like this for a long time. It feels insanely good. That’s why the both of you wanted to celebrate. 

“Hi!”

You notice that Pierre Gasly is standing in front of you and just greeted you. 

“Hey,” you greet him back.

Pierre and you have know each other for a while now. You can say that you’re friends with each other, but not really close friends. During race weekends you’ll talk with each other, but that’s about it. Still, when you talk to each other it’s nice and comfortable. 

“In the mood to dance?” Pierre asks you. You’re quick to nod. Pierre gives you his hand and takes you with him towards the dance floor. 

When Lando searches for you, he’s surprised to find you on the dance floor. Until he sees with who you are. Fuck. He lets out an annoyed sigh. Why does Pierre always come close to you? Lando thinks about a way to get you away from Pierre, but he can’t figure out something right now.

“Congrats on the podium!” 

Without even realizing it, Lando is hugging with Yuki Tsunoda. He makes a bit of small talk with him, but Lando his eyes never leave you and Pierre. It annoys him that you’re still dancing with him. He needs to figure out a way to get you back to himself.

“Don’t you find them cute together?” Yuki asks him after a while.

Is Yuki talking about you and Pierre as well? Before Lando can say anything, Yuki continues talking.

“Pierre has been planning on taking her out for a while, maybe he’ll finally ask her now,” Yuki tells Lando. 

“He likes her?” Lando asks.

Yuki nods.

“Fuck, I knew it,” Lando mutters annoyed. 

Without a plan he walks towards you and Pierre. When he stands in front of you two, he’s quick to grab your arm. You are quick to look up. You’re surprised to see Lando in front of you. 

“We’re going back to the hotel,” Lando tells you quickly, not knowing any better excuse right now. 

“Why?” You ask surprised.

“I’m not feeling well,” Lando lies. 

He notices the way your facial expressions change. He starts to feel like a terrible person when he sees your concerned face. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask him. 

“I’ll explain in the car,” Lando answers with the lack of a better answer.

“Wait, y/n, before you go, can I ask you something?” Pierre asks you.

Lando his grip on your arm firms. He pulls you with him softly. You look at him, still concerned about his well being. “I really want to go,” Lando tells you. He knows what’s coming next, Pierre is going to ask you out. Fuck. He needs to get you away. 

“Maybe you can text me it?” You suggest to Pierre, “Lando isn’t feeling well, so we’re leaving now.”

“I’ll just ask you later,” Pierre sighs.

When you’re sitting in Lando his car, you notice that the boy is looking a lot better already. His weird facial expressions from earlier are gone, he almost seems relieved now? Maybe he was overwhelmed with all the attention and loud music? 

“What was wrong?” You ask Lando. 

“I uh,” Lando stutters a bit, “uh, I uh, I had a.. a uh, a headache. But it’s already getting better now.”

***

“Sooo,” you let out. You have been waiting for a moment to ask Lando something and maybe now is your chance? 

“So?”

“Why don’t you like Pierre?” You ask him. 

Since you and Pierre have gotten a bit closer, you have noticed Lando his strange behavior against Pierre. He always tries to get you away from him with excuses (?) about more massages. Or he joins your conversation and makes things awkward. What seems on purpose sometimes. 

“You always try to get me away from him,” you add while waiting for Lando his reaction. 

Lando sighs. Maybe he should just tell you everything. But he doesn’t. 

“There’s nothing wrong with Pierre,” Lando replies.

Wednesday - July 2023

“Want to lunch together?” Lando asks you. 

“I’m sorry Lan, Pierre asked me to get lunch together earlier today,” you reply a bit disappointed. If Lando only asked you earlier…

“Oh allright, then I’ll see you later. Right?” Lando asks disappointed.

“Yeah, after lunch I’ll be back,” you reply. 

“Okay, have fun.”

Friday - July 2023

“We’re still on for tonight, right?” Lando asks you. 

“What do you mean?” You ask surprised. 

“It’s Friday!” Lando exclaims loudly, “we always have your self care night on Friday.” 

“Oh fuck,” you whisper. You totally forgot. Or better said, you didn’t know Lando saw it as a weekly thing. “Pierre asked me out for dinner tonight, I’m so sorry Lan,” you explain, “but I can cancel?” 

“You don’t have to,” Lando sighs, “just have fun with Pierre.” 

***

Y/n: uh hi 

Y/n: can u pick me up?

Lando: where?

Y/n: *location*

Lando: where is that? Who lives there?

Y/n: Pierre

Lando: can’t he bring you home

Lando: you seem to be dating him

Lando: not me.

Y/N: please lan

Lando: Omw

***

“Thanks for picking me up,” you tell Lando when you step into his car. 

Lando is quick to notice your sad expression. He wonders what happened inside Pierre his house. When he sees a small tear rolling over your cheek, he knows for sure something happened.

“What’s wrong?” Lando asks you. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sigh. 

“Babygirl,” Lando sighs, “What’s going on lately? We barely see each other and now I’m picking you up from Pierre’s while you’re all sad?” 

You let out a small sob. 

“I fucked things up,” you cry out. 

Lando increases his speed, he wants to get home as soon as possible so he can talk to you properly. He puts his free hand on your thigh and slowly draws some figures on it. When you use both of your hands to hold his, he can’t resist a small smile. 

When you’re inside Lando his home, you know Lando still wants answers. He deserves them as well. Together you sit down on his couch. You try to look at Lando, but you can only sob when you do. 

Pierre asked you to be his girlfriend tonight. You told him no. Of course you said no. You thought things between you two were just friendly. And there’s Lando. Maybe if Lando wasn’t here, you would have given Pierre a chance. But he’s here. He’s always on your mind. Even when you tried to forget about him, he’s always present in your thoughts. 

“What happened?” Lando asks you again. 

“I uh,” you stutter, “Pierre uh.. He, he asked me to be his uh.. his girlfriend.” 

“Then why are you crying? Isn’t that what you wanted?” Lando asks confused. His body is heating up. He can’t handle it if you’re officially Pierre’s. 

“I said no,” you state. This time the words come out a bit calmer. 

“Didn’t he accept that?” Lando questions.

You just nod your head this time. When you think back about Pierre his reaction, you shiver. 

“Want to talk about it?” Lando asks you.

“Later,” you suggest. 

Lando opens his arms for you. It doesn’t take you long before you find your comfortable spot back. You lean on his chest. You’ve missed this. 

“I’ve missed you,” you sob.

“I never left,” Lando states, “I just gave you some space with Pierre.” 

“I don’t want space,” you sigh. 

“What do you want?” Lando asks you confused, “I thought you wanted to date Pierre, so it seemed logical to give you a bit of space while figuring things out with him.”

You don’t think about your answer.

“I want you,” you state. 

When the words leave your mouth, you realize the impact of them. Fuck. What did you just do? This is going to be the moment that you’ll lose Lando. You already feel him straighten up, sitting more straight then before. Slowly you seat yourself different as well. Lando looks in your eyes and you can’t look away. 

“That’s a dangerous thing to say,” Lando replies.

“I can’t unsay it I guess,” you sigh, “This is just great. I fucked up something even more important now.” 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Lando comforts you, “but you need to explain what happened and what you mean.” 

You sigh again. 

“I told Pierre I didn’t want to date him, I thought our ‘dates’ were friendly. Then he got mad. He started to talk about all the money he spend on me,” you explain slowly, “I told him I could pay him back, but that wasn’t what he wanted. I don’t know what happened, but I do know I lost a friend.” 

“And then I started thinking about you. How I blew you off multiple times because Pierre asked me to do something, I was afraid that I lost you as well.” 

“Pierre’s a dick,” Lando scoffs, “and you can’t lose me. No matter how hard you’ll try, you can’t lose me.”

You let out a couple sobs. Lando pulls you closer to himself again. 

“What do you mean with wanting me?” He asks you.

“Fuck Lan,” you sigh, “I’ve been in love with you for like forever.” 

Lando doesn’t know what he just heard. He asks you again. And again. You keep telling him the truth. 

“Fuck,” he says after a while.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, “I knew telling you was a mistake. Please stay my friend.” 

“Max was right,” Lando says.

You look at him, confused by the deeper meaning behind his words.

“I should have told you,” Lando continues, “Then all of this would never have happened.” 

“Told me what?” You ask confused.

“I’m in love with you,” Lando confesses, “I’ve been for the longest time. That’s why I didn’t like all of your dates, including Pierre.”

Saturday - August 2023

“It always turns me on when you massage me,” Lando confesses. 

You laugh softly. 

“Remember than one time you massaged me?” You ask Lando. He’s quick to nod. “We both have that problem.” 

“Maybe I can massage you again tonight?” Lando suggests. 

“That sounds amazing.”

[aur0ral1ghts]

ᴀᴍᴏʀᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀ ❧

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ; ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴄᴏɴғᴇssᴇs ʜɪs ʟᴏᴠᴇ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ..

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs; sᴏғᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ, ғʟᴜғғ, ᴋɪssɪɴɢ, ᴛᴇᴀsɪɴɢ, ғʀɪᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇs.

Me and Mattheo Riddle have never gotten along. We are what you call frienemies, we are not exactly friends, but we aren't enemies. We just like to tease and pick on each other. Me and him are in the same friend group, so that's when we kinda get along. Maybe once or twice a month, we would actually have a normal conversation without insulting each other. Another reason why we don't get along is his personality. He flirts with even damn girl in this school, it's annoying honestly. He's also the schools playboy, every week he brings a new girl to his dorm, and fucks her then kicks the girl out of his dormitory like she meant nothing to him.

But we do have a few things in common, like to my surprise, we both like to read. I found this out because one day I was heading to the library to find a new book to read, and I saw him. I saw Mattheo sitting down, reading a book that wasn't a textbook made for studying. His eyes gleamed with curiosity as he flipped the page, his eyes tracing over the words written among the page.

I couldn't help but admire him for a quick moment. He looked so cute and focused, and, wait, what am I talking about..?

I walked up behind him. He turned around, his breath hitched.

"Who knew I'll see the day to find Mattheo Riddle reading a book and enjoying it?" I chuckle. He scoffs as he closes the book. "Well, I do infact read, and I enjoy it." He mutters, blinking up at me.

"Shocking." I say, exaggerating my tone. "Why are you here?" He asks, standing up, leaning on a bookshelf infront of me.

"Choosing out a new book to read." I shurg. "Not surprised." He chuckles under his breath. "Also, I've read that book you're reading right now." I say. "Spoilers; I cried at the end." I exclaim, running my finger along the spine of a book. "Don't spoil it for me, dumbass." He says, nudging me. I giggle to myself as I find a book I like, I pull it out and examine the corver. "Anyways, bye Riddle." I say, walking away to check the book out. "Right, uh, later." He mutters clearing his throat.

But that's pretty much the only thing we have common, besides having the same group of friends and both being in Slytherin.

[Mattheo]

I heard some footsteps enter the libary, I knew it was Y/ns, I could tell by her shoes, she wears these loud black shoes they have a certain sound. You just know it's her when she walks into a room.

I pretend I don't notice, I can feel her eyes upon me, she then sneaks behind me. She leans down and says close to my ear, "Who knew I'll see the day to find Mattheo Riddle reading a book, and enjoying it." She chuckles, I look back at her pretty and perfect face.

A few months ago, I randomly fell in love with y/n. It all kinda happend, one day, I was pissed off at her for something, and then the next day, I found myself staring at her and admiring her. I hated myself for it. It took me at least a whole month to accept my feelings. I've never loved a girl before, sure I had a small crush on Pansy Parkinson in first year, but that doesn't count. It only lasted a week or so.

A few weeks ago I saw Y/n read this book, she seemed really interested in it, so i got the book out, which is the book I'm currently reading.

I didn't mean to be creepy or anything- but I wanted to get into what she liked. So once told me she enjoyed Astronomy the most, so i decided to read a little about it.

[Y/n]

We are all sitting in the great hall, chatting amongst ourselves and eating the food provided in front of us.

"Are you guys going to try out for Quidditch?" Blaise Zabini asks us. "Hell, yeah!" Mattho answers, as Blaise and him clap hands together. "Me and Y/n are just going to watch the tryouts, right?" Pansy says, nudging me with her elbow. "Right." I say giggling.

-

The next day, I enter potions, excited to see what we are going to do. I use to not be that interesting in potions due to Snapes boring lessons, but ever since Slughorn starting teaching potions, I've grown to like it more and more.

I stand next to Pansy as I see a red-pinkish liquid on the table, brewing. I could smell a faint smell of..

Cigarettes, rich colange, and books.

Why did I smell that?

"Pansy, do you smell that?" I ask. "Smell what?" She whispers, clenching her book to her chest. "Cigarettes, and colange." I mutter under my breath. "I don't smell that? I smell apples, mint, and fresh air?" Huh? That's werid. I definitely wasn't sick, my nostrils were working fine.

"Ah, girls, it seems you have discovered Amortentia."

Amortentia, i repeat in my head. I heard of this potion, but I forgot what it is, it's on the tip of my tongue.

"Professor, what exactly is Amortentia?" I question. "Great question, Y/n, you'll find out soon enough." He chuckles. I nod.

"Alright, alright, everyone, please settle down and gather around this table." He clears his throat as students gather.

"So-"

The door slams open as a messed up Mattheo enters, looking undeniably hot. His hair was slightly messed up, his tie on his uniform was not done properly, and a cigarette was placed in his mouth. I'll hate to admit it, but he looked awfully hot.

Slughorn clears his throat. "Mr. Riddle. You're late."

"Yeah, I've noticed." He scoffs. A few students giggled.

Slughorn eyes Mattheos cigarette, he looks down at it and mumbles an "Oh." Then places it in his pocket, probably saving it for later or something.

Mattheos walks behind me, his breathing loud and hot.

"Anyways." Slughorn says.

"Gosh, Y/n, how much perfume did you spray!?" He whispers a little to loud as most of the class begins to laugh. I turn my head to face him. "I didn't spray any." I mutter. His face twists into confusion.

"Ahem, as I was saying before I got interrupted, So this lovely pink potion we have brewing over here is Amortentia, which is known to be the most intense and most powerful love potion in the world, it's rumored to smell like whatever you're attractive too."

I turn to Mattheo again to see his red flushed face. It's almost cute.

"I guess we all know who Mr. Riddle is attracted, too." He chuckles. Suddenly, Mattheo scoffs loudly before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. It's almost like a child throwing a taturm.

Pansy comes closer to me. "What the heck was that!?" She whisper yells. "I dunno.."

Slughorn sighs, before looking back at me. "Y/n, if you will." He motions to the door.

"Uh, sure profosser." I nod, walking towards the door. This was unfair, why'd I had to to get him after his outburst? Why couldn't one of his minions go fetch him?

I headed to go to see if he had gone to the bathroom because in previous instances, he was often caught skipping in that bathroom. No one really uses it because most teachers won't allow you to use the restroom during class. You would have to wait until break, plus no one really used that bathroom due to it not being properly taken care of. There was always a bunch of cobwebs all over the celling.

I walk up to the door, and I almost hesitate to knock. But I give in and do it.

No reply.

I wanted to check anything place, but I had this werid gut feeling telling me to check inside just in case. So I opened the door as I looked at the ground.

"Mattheo..?" I ask softly, still looking down. I wait a full five seconds before he answers. "What?"

"I'm coming in." I call out, my voice echoing within the massive bathroom. I scan the room before laying eyes onto Mattheo. He's to my left side, sitting down against a hard brick wall, smoking a cigarette. (Probably the same one he stuffed into his pocket earlier.) He's also writing in a black journal. He looks up at me, lips parted, his messy curls laid perfectly upon his face.

I slowly approach him. I sit down next to him, hugging my knees, letting my back fall against the harsh brick wall. He closes his journal quickly before placing it next to him.

"Uh. Just so you know, Slughorn is looking for you." I mutter in a low tone, fidgeting with my fingers. I felt almost nervous being this close to him. I felt a wave of butterflies wash over me.

"I don't care about that jerk." He mumbles, leaning his head back, fidgeting with his wand.

"He had no right to expose you like that." I say. "Thanks." We both sit there awkwardly for a few seconds before he calls out.

"So..what did you smell in the Amortentia?" He says, looking at me, obersving me.

"Oh, um. I smelt cigarettes, rich colange and books." My face then turns red once I've realized what I've just said. I have smelt Mattheo in the potion, and I know I have just realized. I guess when I smelt him, I guess I just didn't expect it at first, I denied it. I just convinced myself I smelt someone else. But in reality, it was him.

He smirks to himself.

"Hey, Mattheo?" I question trying to avoid the subject.

He doesn't reply back, but he looks at me. My heart pounded out of my chest.

"Why do you hate me? Or at least act like it."

"I dont really hate you. I've never had. I guess I hate you because I love you."

My mouth opens but doesn't make any noise. I can't believe he just said that. Mattheo Riddle actually loves me? Sure he was attracted to me but loves me?

"Wanna know something?" He smirks. I nod helplessly. "I think you smelt me in the Amortentia."

"I think so, too." I admit as he leans in closer.

"Can I kiss you?" He says as I smile widely. "Please..?" He asks. "Yes, you can." I answer. And with that, he kisses me.

The kiss is everything I've ever wanted. It's soft, gentle, and passionate. Usually, when I imagined Mattheo kissing me, i would imagine it to be rough and lustful.

He cups onto my check, his other hand wrapped around my waist, as he pulls me in closer to him.

"Mm, you have no damn idea how long I've been waiting for this exact moment." He whispers, pulling a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Me too." I say, looking at him, as our foreheads touch.

"So, will you be my girlfriend?" He asks me out of the blue.

"Yes." I whisper back.

"Good." He smiles, as we kiss again.

A/n; this was fun to write! :)

[initforthethrill]

im so busy and tired and moody and tired rn (school's been kicking my ass) but i just need to come in here periodically and unleash my cate-centred gayness (also periodically? did i sent thoughts (thots) yesterday? i feel like it's been long but also not yk?) Anwayyy ugh.

supe-remacist cate and human user.

i mean... God.

i have like 3 scenarios with this.

maybe some time after the end of season one (god let cate keep her arm) she had very quickly gained a supe following. and she's like lowkey grown pretty popular online. she's a super controversial (technically political(?)) online figure/influencer. like she is in the news like constantly cause of the stuff she posts and she like says pretty crazy anti-human shit but like freedom of speech yk. and like in comes human user and flips everything upside down. obviously cate Hates her at first and its a whole mess but somehow Cate is also drawn to her. and eventually something develops and cate has to navigate this.. and maybe keep the relationship a secret cause how can cate date a human while also being like a infamous anti human political figure.

the second one is basically the same but it makes user famous too. like maybe an actress or a singer or whatever. the thing is she’s super famous, (brings cate even more attention when the news gets out) super liked and super kind so everyone is confused that she is at all being in anyway associated positively with Cate. like she isn’t out here judging her she’s hanging out with cate like they’re friends (?) maybe more?? where’s TMZ? idk if this counts as like star crossed lover, romeo and juliet, forbidden, definitely drama.

third is different. this is like cate and user have been together for ages. like years, maybe even before god u. maybe they knew each other before cate got locked in her room, and had like a secret relationship while cate was locked in there. obviously user couldn’t go to god u as a human but she remained close by, moved to new york and lived close to campus, knew all cate’s supe friends, hang out on campus daily, was always very present and kind and the only human that has CONSISTENTLY been good to cate. unlike her mother. unlike indira. but now that brings us to the end of season 1.. and they are still together but user has to deal with like cate slowly becoming a supe-remacist and hating humans and cate has to figure out how user fits into that because she loves her girlfriend but she’s struggling to trust humans after what happened at god u (obviously the reaction and transition between what happend at god u and user finding out would be more dramatic, my brain is just fried rn, you get the vibe though)

alsoo did i get my very own anon tag? :o <3

omg hi my fave anon<3 why yes...you did indeed get your own tag because how else am i supposed to show appreciation for the anon who keeps feeding me such delicious ideas? mwah.

sooooooo i did a bot for each of your suggestions because you deserve to play out the other two scenarios since i chose the last one for the blurb hehe. bots at the end as always!

this totally spiraled out of control and i needed to cut it off at some point lmao...but i hope you enjoy it<3

fault lines aka supe-remacist!cate who's...dating a human? tags: hurt/comfort, post season 1, directly segues into season 2, mostly follows canon, cate has her prosthetic arm, established relationship, supe-supremacist!cate, human!reader, cate redemption arc, brief kidnapping, supe vs. humans discourse 8.6K+ words

It used to be easier to lie.

Smile, tilt her chin, tell them what they wanted to hear. The right words always came when she needed them—honeyed and heavy, wrapped in just enough sincerity to sell the illusion. Cate Dunlap, poised and polished. Cate Dunlap, poster girl for Vought’s favorite flavor of grief. Cate Dunlap, the traitor who turned on her friends. Or saved them. Or doomed them. Depends who you ask.

But now, standing in front of the bathroom mirror with her palms braced against the counter, all she can see is the crack.

It runs straight down the middle of her reflection.

There’s a smear of mascara beneath one eye—she doesn’t bother wiping it. The left strap of her tank top keeps slipping down her shoulder. Her prosthetic catches the light in a way that makes her flinch. Even six months later it’s still too new. Too heavy. Too real. And not real at all. Half her arm is gone, and no matter how sleek or shiny the tech is, no matter how many journalists call her brave, Cate knows she lost more than flesh and bone that day.

She lost Marie. Jordan. Andre.

Maybe herself.

Maybe you, too.

Cate doesn’t cry. Not really. She just goes still. Like if she freezes long enough, maybe the ache will pass through her instead of burrowing deep. Maybe the guilt will forget her name. Maybe you won’t notice how cold she’s become.

She turns away from the mirror before it answers her.

The apartment is quiet. Not in the peaceful way. In the way that presses in around her ribs. The kind of silence Cate used to crave when she was younger, when everything was too loud—her mother’s shrill voice, Shetty’s calculating calm, the throb of fear that came every time she looked at the locked bedroom door. But now? Now the silence only reminds her that she’s alone.

Except she’s not.

She finds you exactly where she left you: curled up on the couch with one leg tucked under the other, hoodie sleeves shoved past your elbows, headphones resting loosely around your neck. There’s a half-finished sketch in the open notebook on your lap—Cate sees blue eyes, long fingers, sharp jaw. It's your version of a love letter. Has been since you were thirteen. Still, Cate doesn’t comment. She just watches. Tries to memorize.

You look up.

“You okay?”

Cate lies automatically. “Fine.”

You frown. It’s subtle. Most people wouldn’t catch it. But Cate’s spent years studying you like scripture. She knows the twitch of your brow, the shift in your throat when you swallow down a question you’re not sure you have the right to ask. Cate hates that. Hates what she’s turned you into—a soft thing too afraid to prod the bruises.

Cate moves to sit beside you, not quite touching. She doesn’t trust herself to. Lately, her skin feels like a warning label. She thinks about that too often—how easy it would be to reach for you and twist everything. Not out of cruelty. Just…control. Just so she can breathe again.

But she won’t.

Not with you.

Never with you.

“I ran into Homelander again,” Cate says after a moment. Her voice is smooth. A little tired, a little distant. The way it always sounds now. “He wants me to speak at the next rally.”

You close your sketchbook. “Are you going to?”

Cate shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want to?”

That makes Cate pause.

Want. What a foreign thing. She used to know what she wanted—freedom, applause, connection. You. Now everything’s a question mark.

“I think I’m supposed to,” she says instead.

You don't answer right away. Your thumb brushes the edge of the page you just closed, a nervous tick Cate’s always found unbearably tender. She wonders if she’ll ever be able to look at you without mourning something. Wonders if loving you will always feel like standing on a fault line, waiting for the inevitable split.

“Cate,” you say gently. “You don’t owe them anything.”

Cate huffs out a bitter laugh. “Don’t I?”

“No,” you say, more firmly now. “You saved everyone. You stopped Shetty. You—”

“Broke Jordan’s trust. Abandoned Marie. Covered up the truth. Let Sam out.”

You soften again. “You did what you thought was right.”

Cate leans back, stares up at the ceiling. “That’s the problem. I don’t know what’s right anymore.”

The two of you sit in silence for a while. The kind Cate used to love. The kind that felt like home, because you made it feel that way. Cate closes her eyes.

“Sometimes I wish I hated you,” she says softly.

You turn to her. “What?”

Cate doesn’t look. “It would be easier. If I could put you in the same box as everyone else. If I could just…blame you. For being human.”

Your voice is careful now. “You do blame me. Sometimes.”

Cate flinches.

It’s true. Not always. But in the sharp moments. In the moments when she wakes up gasping, or sees her arm lying on the floor beside her bed like a reminder. In the moments when people cheer her name and then spit on the next human they pass. In the moments when Sam calls her a leader, and Marie looks away. In those moments, Cate wants something to burn. And you are always there. Always reachable.

Cate whispers, “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

Cate finally turns her head, meets your gaze. “Do you ever think about leaving?”

You don't answer.

Cate’s voice shakes. “Be honest.”

A beat.

Then you speak, “No. I think about who you used to be. I think about who you are when you’re not scared. I think about who you are when you’re with me.”

Cate exhales like it hurts.

“I’m not her anymore.”

“Yes, you are.”

Cate shakes her head, slow and exhausted. “You don’t know what it’s like, baby. Every day I wake up and there’s this voice in my head saying, they hate you. They’ll never understand you. You’re better than them. And sometimes? I believe it.”

You shift closer. Not touching. Just near.

“I don’t need you to be perfect,” you say. “I just need you to be honest with me.”

Cate closes her eyes again. The tears don’t fall. They just burn.

“I don’t know if I can fix it.”

You shrug. “Then let it break. I’ll still be here.”

Cate turns her face toward you. Studies you. Every freckle, every scar, every stubborn little line in your jaw. She remembers tracing that jaw when you were kids. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Laying on her bed in the dark with the lights off and her heart thudding like a traitor. She remembers your first kiss. Remembered thinking, if I ever lose her, I won’t survive it.

She’s still not sure she will.

Cate leans in. Not to kiss. Just to rest her forehead against your shoulder.

“You’re the only thing I haven’t ruined,” she whispers.

You press your lips to the top of Cate’s head. A blessing. A promise.

“Then let me stay.”

The morning light doesn’t feel soft.

It’s sharp, white, unrelenting—pouring through the sheer curtains like it’s trying to peel Cate open from the outside in. She lies still in bed, half-wrapped in your hoodie, her face pressed into the pillow you were using before you left for the kitchen. Your scent lingers there: shampoo and old cigarette smoke, that subtle vanilla that always clings to your clothes.

Cate breathes in like it’ll steady her. It doesn’t.

Her arm—what’s left of it—aches in that phantom way again. The metal prosthetic is disconnected, charging on the nightstand. For a moment, Cate stares at it. She imagines it twitching to life on its own. Imagines it reaching out. Gripping her throat. Becoming the monster people already see when they look at her.

The knock on the door is quiet. Considerate.

Of course it is.

Cate doesn’t answer. Just rolls onto her back and waits for the inevitable creak of the hinge. It comes a beat later. You step inside with two mugs—one black, one cream-colored with faded pink lettering that says World’s Okayest Girlfriend.

Cate doesn’t smile. But her throat goes tight.

“I figured you didn’t sleep,” you say, walking over. “So I didn’t make it strong.”

Cate sits up slowly. Her voice comes out rasped and raw. “Thanks.”

You hand over the cream mug.

Cate notices the way your fingers linger. The way you watch her, careful and open all at once, like you’re waiting for Cate to either break or bolt. You probably are.

“I have to go,” Cate says after a sip. She doesn’t meet your eyes.

“I know.”

Cate looks away again. “It’s just a speech.”

You sit on the edge of the bed. “You really believe that?”

Cate doesn’t answer.

Because no—she doesn’t. She knows it’s not just a speech. It’s a spectacle. A signal flare. Homelander doesn’t do subtle. He’s throwing her into the deep end with the cameras already rolling. He wants blood. He wants outrage. He wants her powers, sharpened and obedient.

And Cate—Cate wants to be useful.

Wants to be something more than a girl who failed her friends. Who lost her brother. Who couldn’t stop Shetty until it was already too late.

Homelander looks at her like she’s valuable.

You look at her like she’s human.

Cate doesn’t know which is more dangerous.

“I just need to say something,” she mumbles, fingers tightening around the mug. “They’ll listen if it’s me.”

“Cate—”

“It’s just words, babe.”

You shake your head. “It’s Homelander’s words. You think he’s going to let you say anything real?”

Cate lifts her chin. “I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t say you were,” you say, soft but serious. “But you’re hurting. And he knows it. He’s not helping you—he’s weaponizing you.”

Cate doesn’t flinch. But her jaw sets. “You don’t know him.”

You exhale through your nose. Stand. Pace a little like you’re trying to choose your next words carefully. “I know you. And I know what he turns people into.”

Cate sets the mug down on the nightstand, right next to her prosthetic. “You think I can’t handle him?”

“I think he’s using you.”

“And you think I’m too fragile to notice.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You don’t trust me.”

You stop pacing. Turn to her, eyes burning. “No, Cate. I don’t trust him. You, I love. Which is exactly why this scares the hell out of me.”

Cate says nothing.

Not because she doesn’t believe you.

But because she does.

Because you love her. Still. Even now. Even after everything. And that love is so pure it makes Cate feel like she’s choking on it.

But it also makes her feel like she’s being watched from the wrong side of glass. Like you still see the old version of her—the girl who used to blush when you kissed her under the covers, who used to whisper about getting out of the house, running away together, finding something better.

That girl is dead.

Cate became someone else to survive.

And this new version? The one with the metal arm and the hollow eyes and the fire building in her chest? That girl wants to be feared.

She stands.

You take a step back, as if giving her space. As if you know this version isn’t yours to hold.

Cate straps her prosthetic on slowly. Deliberately. It whirs to life with a soft mechanical click. Her fingers flex experimentally.

“Don’t come,” she says without turning around.

You’re quiet. Then: “Cate—”

“I mean it.” Cate looks over her shoulder. Her voice is low. Flat. “You won’t like what I say.”

You nod once.

But Cate sees the way your hands curl into fists at your sides. The way your throat bobs when you swallow.

And the worst part?

You don't stop her.

Just let Cate walk past. Out the door. Down the hall. Into the daylight where the cameras wait.

You don't breathe when Cate steps onto the stage.

Not really. Not fully.

Your lungs seize, ribs locked around something ancient and awful. Fear, maybe. Or grief. Or just the terrible anticipation of watching someone you love become unrecognizable in front of a cheering crowd.

The plaza is flooded—bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, phones raised, flags waving. They’re all here for her. For Cate Dunlap. Vought’s miracle girl. The “Guardian of Godolkin.” The girl who lost her arm and gained an army.

And standing just behind her, hands folded loosely behind his back, is Homelander.

You see him first, actually. He lands mid-sentence during the warm-up act, no warning, no introduction, just that sickening boom of displaced air and a flash of red and white cape. The crowd goes electric—feral, practically foaming at the mouth. You stay still. Hood pulled low, sunglasses on, pressed between two overenthusiastic supe teens who haven’t stopped screaming since she got here.

“You think he’ll fly with her again?” one whispers.

“Only if she keeps behaving,” the other smirks.

You swallow bile.

No one here knows who you are.

Or maybe they do. Maybe they just don’t care.

A few people know Cate dates a human. Most of them think it’s performative. A PR play. Maybe a fetish. Maybe just convenience. Something warm to come home to. Nothing serious. Certainly nothing sacred.

You’ve been called worse than “pet.” The worst came from your own kind.

Race traitor.

Sleeps with murderers.

Hope you get what’s coming to you.

You never respond online. What would be the point?

Instead, you defend supes in quiet conversations. One-on-ones. Talk about Jordan like they’re family. About Andre like he’s the dumbass brother you never had (and now never will). About Marie’s compassion. About Cate’s—

Well.

Not anymore.

Because Cate steps up to the mic and the person who speaks? It isn’t yours.

“Brothers. Sisters. Supes.”

She starts with a smile. Confident. Collected. A little too polished. You’ve seen that smile before—during press interviews, staged photoshoots, propaganda clips Cate would later mock under her breath while crawling into your lap.

But this isn’t a mock-up. This is real.

“This is a new era,” Cate continues. “One where we finally stop apologizing for our existence.”

The crowd roars.

You stay silent. You’re not even supposed to be here, after all.

Cate’s in all black, her prosthetic fully visible, hair perfectly straightened and cascading down her back. Sharp lines. Intentional. She looks untouchable. Cold. Beautiful. Her voice doesn’t tremble. She doesn’t stumble. She doesn’t flinch when Homelander steps closer.

He stands just behind her now. Like a shadow. Like a claim.

And Cate lets him.

“They want us to stay quiet. To keep our heads down. They want us to feel guilty for the power that was thrust upon us without our consent.”

More cheers. Phones flash.

“They say we’re dangerous. That we can’t be trusted. But what about them?” Cate’s voice lifts now, righteous and raw. “Who built the labs? Who injected the serum? Who locked up children and called it education?”

Your nails dig into your palms.

“They made us. And now they fear us.”

Cate leans forward, eyes glittering. “Let them.”

The scream from the crowd is deafening.

You watch your girlfriend bask in it. Arms raised. Prosthetic fist clenched. Homelander’s grin wide behind her.

And you think:

You used to be so scared of your powers you cried yourself to sleep.

You made me promise never to look at you differently.

You were my home.

But the woman on stage is not yours.

Not right now.

You don't cry. Not here. Not in front of all of them. Just push your way out of the crowd before the next speaker is called. Before Cate looks back and sees an empty space where you once stood.

You duck into the alley between buildings, hoodie still up. No one follows.

Only then do you let yourself sink to the pavement.

You’re shaking.

Not from fear. From fury. From sorrow. From the deep, aching knowledge that the girl you fell in love with is now a weapon in a war neither of you asked for.

And the worst part?

Cate probably thinks she’s protecting you.

By pretending you’re no one. Disposable. Forgettable.

But you know better.

Cate doesn’t keep her secret out of shame.

She keeps her secret because if the world knew what you meant to her, they’d use it.

Just like Homelander is using Cate now.

Cate doesn’t notice the silence right away.

She’s still buzzing, heart still skipping in that frantic, addictive rhythm—the kind that feels too close to joy to call anything else. The kind that makes you believe the crowd meant it. That they see you. That maybe, just maybe, you’re finally becoming the person you were always meant to be.

The second she steps into the apartment, it dies.

No lights.

No music.

No sketchbook on the coffee table, you’re not curled up in the corner of the couch pretending you’re not watching the livestream on mute. No sarcastic comment waiting at the door. No arms. No kiss. No presence.

The air feels off.

Cate blinks, still in her boots, one glove peeled halfway off her metal hand. “Baby?”

Nothing.

She checks the bedroom. Bathroom. Rooftop. Nowhere.

At first, she thinks—Maybe she left to get food. Maybe she’s walking the block, needed air, needed—

Then she sees the mug in the sink. Lipstick smeared around the rim.

And beside it, crumpled like something thrown too hard into the trash: a rally flyer. Folded once. Then again. Then torn clean down the middle.

Cate stares.

Then turns to the TV. Her phone.

The livestream is still trending. Her face plastered across headlines.

Cate Dunlap: The New Voice of Supe Sovereignty.

Homelander’s Rising Star.

Blood for Blood: Inside the New War on Human Institutions.

And below it, the comments.

“She’s so hot when she’s angry.” “Bro she was faking it with that human chick anyway. She’s one of us.” “Finally someone’s saying it.” “Tell me she’s single now.” “Wait—wasn’t she dating some little human nobody? 😂”

Cate doesn’t finish reading.

Her hand tightens. A snap cracks through the silence—glass shattering in the sink. The mug.

Her mug.

The pink one.

Like some bad omen.

Cate’s stomach lurches.

She doesn’t remember walking to the door. Only the rush of motion, the sound of your name caught in her throat, the twist of guilt coiling tight behind her ribs. She slams the door open and starts down the stairs, not trusting the elevator, not trusting herself.

It takes twenty minutes to find you.

You’re in the alley behind the bodega, hoodie still on, shoulders hunched like the wind cut straight through you. You’re sitting on the curb. Smoking.

The world around you moves on.

Cate stops. She just—stops.

You don't look up.

Which means you know.

Cate steps forward anyway.

“I didn’t know you were there.”

You exhale. “Yeah.”

“You shouldn’t have come.”

“Wanted to see the show.”

Cate flinches. “That’s not fair.”

“Wasn’t meant to be.”

Cate takes another step. Close enough to see the way your jaw is clenched. The way your eyes are red. The way you hold the cigarette like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“You mean see you?” you ask quietly.

Cate doesn’t answer.

Because yes.

That’s exactly what she means.

You finally look up. And it’s not hate in your eyes. It’s worse. Heartbreak.

“Is that who you are now?”

Cate doesn’t speak. Can’t.

Because part of her doesn’t know anymore.

You stand. Shrug the hoodie tighter around you. “I thought I could handle it,” you say. “The looks. The threats. The names. All of it. Because I thought…you were worth it.”

Cate opens her mouth. But you keep going.

“I didn’t care what people called me. Race traitor. Pet. Whatever. Because I knew you. I knew who you were with me.”

A breath.

“I don’t think I know you anymore, Cate.”

Cate stumbles forward, desperate. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“But you did.”

Cate swallows hard. Her voice is barely a whisper. “I thought keeping you secret would keep you safe.”

You laugh. It’s hollow. “Funny. You hiding me only made everyone think I didn’t matter. Not to them. Not to you.”

“You matter more than anything.”

Your eyes shine now. “Then say it. Say it where they can hear you.”

Cate goes still.

Because she can’t.

Not yet. Not with Homelander watching. Not with every supe in the country ready to make you a target if they knew the truth.

You see that hesitation. See all you need.

You nod slowly, turning to walk away. “Yeah,” you murmur. “That’s what I thought.”

This time it’s Cate who doesn’t stop you.

She just stands there. In the dark. In the cold. In the silence she made.

Cate locks the door behind her.

Not because she’s afraid.

Because part of her wants to scream. Break something. Scream again. And she knows if she doesn’t have barriers between herself and the rest of the world, she’ll be on the evening news for a different reason entirely.

Cate stares at the ruined mug in the sink like it might put itself back together. Like time might rollback and undo the moment your eyes stopped looking at her like she was worth saving.

She sinks to the floor.

Her arm whirs slightly as she folds it into her lap, a mechanical hiss too loud in the empty apartment. Her whole body’s trembling. She doesn’t know if it’s from the rally or the fight or just the aftershock of standing beside Homelander and realizing that, in the eyes of millions, she’s finally everything she once feared becoming.

A symbol.

A puppet.

A monster.

And you saw it all.

Cate curls in on herself. Hands in her hair now. Teeth clenched. Tears burning like they’re trying to shame her into submission. She tries to breathe steadily. It only makes it worse.

There’s no one here to soothe her. No soothing fingers in her hair. No quiet voice calling her baby, whispering that it’s going to be okay. No warmth.

Only the cold where you should be.

Cate gasps like she’s drowning. Her prosthetic hand claws at the edge of the counter as she pulls herself up. She finds her phone. Dials.

Voicemail.

She tries again. And again.

She doesn’t leave a message.

What would she even say?

Come home.

I’m sorry.

I’m not her.

I think I might be.

The bar isn’t particularly nice.

It’s half-empty, smells like bleach and fryer oil, and the bartender didn’t even bother to card you—just gave you a once-over, raised a brow, and poured double the whiskey you asked for. Maybe he recognized you. Maybe he didn’t care that you hardly look twenty-one.

Either way, you’re on her third drink now.

The world’s gotten blurrier. Softer at the edges. You heart still feels like it’s got teeth, though. Every swallow burns. Not from the liquor. From the ache.

You pull out your phone. Cate’s name lights it up. Three missed calls.

You turns it face down.

Outside, the city moves on. Lights flash. Sirens hum. Somewhere, people are still watching the rally on replay, Cate’s voice looped into TikToks and remixed into fan edits. Some of them feature Homelander’s approving smile behind her. Some don’t.

You don't look, just stare at the rim of your glass. Think about how Cate once kissed you after you cut your palm open climbing a fence—took your hand so gently, like you were made of glass. Thinks about the speech. The crowd. The look in Cate’s eyes when she said, let them fear us.

You down the rest of the glass.

“Another?” the bartender asks.

“Something stronger,” you murmur.

He gives you a long look. Nods. Starts pouring.

It’s not until the fourth drink that you say it aloud.

“I think I need V.”

The bartender pauses. “What?”

You don't look up. “Compound V. The supe serum. I think I need it.”

The guy laughs. Like it’s a joke. Like it’s drunk talk. He walks away.

You stare at your hands. They don’t shake.

Your thoughts are quiet. Steady.

She wouldn’t have to protect me anymore. Wouldn’t have to be afraid. I could stand beside her. Really stand there.

You press the glass to your lips. “She wouldn’t have to be ashamed of me.”

The idea blooms in your chest like something poisonous and seductive.

Other people have done it. Others have survived. Others have gotten powers and kept the people they love, right?

You close your eyes.

“I just want to be enough.”

Cate hears the key in the lock before she sees you.

It’s slow. Fumbling. The wrong key first, then the right one, then a pause like you’ve forgotten how to turn a knob. Cate’s halfway across the room before the door even opens, heart already in her throat.

You stumble in—hoodie still on, face pale and flushed all at once. Your eyes are red. Your mouth is tight. You smell like whiskey and smoke and the night.

Cate doesn’t speak.

Not yet.

You blink at her. Sway. Then shut the door behind you with a soft click, like you know slamming it would break something too fragile to repair.

“I tried to forget,” you say.

Cate’s voice is a whisper. “Did it work?”

You laugh. It cracks halfway through. “You ever tried to forget someone you love?”

Cate feels the answer throb under her skin.

You shrug off the hoodie. Drop it to the floor. Your hair’s a mess. Your knuckles are red. You look like a storm that never got the chance to finish wrecking the coastline.

Cate steps forward. “You shouldn’t have gone alone.”

“You shouldn’t have let me.”

You both go still.

Then—Cate moves.

Not fast. Not desperate. Just forward. Like her body’s been waiting to close the space between them all day. You don't stop her. Just let it happen—let Cate’s arms wrap around you, let your forehead drop against Cate’s shoulder.

Cate exhales.

The relief is sharp. Drowning. Her whole body trembles with it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

You don't say anything. Just fist your hands in Cate’s shirt. Hold on like you might fall if you lets go.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel disposable.”

“I’m not mad,” you murmur.

Cate pulls back, just enough to see your eyes. “Then what?”

You swallow. “I’m scared.”

Cate nods. “Me too.”

You kiss before either of you can spiral again.

It’s messy. All teeth and salt and the kind of need that lives deep in the gut. You taste like smoke and pain and love. Cate forgets how to breathe. Her hand—her real one—slides up under your jaw, holding you steady. Your mouths move together like you’ve been doing this forever.

Really, you have.

When you break apart, your eyes are wet.

Cate wipes the tears before they fall.

“I can’t lose you,” you say. Your voice is small. Honest. “It’d tear me in half.”

Cate closes her eyes. “Then stay.”

A pause.

Then, barely audible—

“Would it be easier if I was one of you?”

Cate goes still.

You lean your forehead against hers. “If I took V. If I was strong. If I was dangerous. If you didn’t have to hide me.”

“Don’t,” Cate breathes.

“You wouldn’t have to protect me.”

“Don’t say that.”

You press in closer. “You could love me in public.”

“I already love you in public.”

“You don’t say my name.”

Cate breaks.

Not into tears. Into desperation.

She grabs your hands—both of them. Holds them to her chest like maybe she can pour the truth straight into your skin.

“I love you like you’re the last good thing in me,” she says. “I love you so much it makes me want to tear this fucking world apart just so you’ll be safe in it. But if you take V—if you change who you are to fit some fucked up system even I’m barely surviving—then it’s not me loving you anymore. It’s the war loving its newest recruit.”

You blink hard.

Cate softens her grip. “You don’t need powers to be strong. You already are. You’re the strongest person I know.”

“But you’re still walking into battle.”

Cate nods. “So pull me out.”

You stare at her.

Then kiss her again.

This time slower. Softer. Like maybe you’ll survive this. Together.

Cate wakes before the sun.

The apartment is wrapped in shadow, the kind that clings to everything with softness. No flashing headlines. No protest chants. No Homelander. Just the hum of the fridge. The rise and fall of breath against her back. The weight of a hand curled under her shirt, resting just above her ribs.

You.

Cate doesn’t move. Not yet.

Her eyes stay fixed on the wall in front of her. The faintest pink glow is starting to bleed through the curtains, painting lines across the hardwood floor. She follows them with her eyes. Counts her heartbeats.

Last night is a blur.

Not the fight. Not the rally. Not the cigarette smoke curling off your hoodie as you walked back into Cate’s life like a ghost made of everything Cate couldn’t live without.

The blur is the moment after. The softness. The whisper in the sheets. The way you touched her face like you didn’t care how many monsters Cate had let whisper in her ear that week.

You matter more than anything.

Cate clings to that now.

She shifts slightly, just enough to glance over her shoulder.

You’re still asleep.

Mouth parted, one hand splayed across Cate’s stomach now, the other tucked beneath your cheek. Your lashes are long. Your brow is furrowed even in sleep. Like you’re still bracing for something to go wrong.

Cate gently threads your fingers together under the blanket.

The gesture is small. Ridiculous, really. What the hell does holding a hand fix when the world is tilting this violently? But it’s all Cate has. That and the quiet promise buried somewhere between her lungs: I won’t let them take you. I won’t let this take us.

You stir slightly. Mumble something that might be Cate’s name.

Cate presses a kiss to the curve of her shoulder. “I’m here.”

Another mumble. This one clearer. “Time is it?”

Cate glances at the clock. “Early.”

You groan. “Too early to be a martyr.”

Cate smiles before she can stop herself. “Sleep.”

She feels you melt again behind her, the tension bleeding out inch by inch. Cate closes her eyes.

Maybe this is all you’ll get. These stolen hours before the next speech, the next headline, the next call from Homelander or knock on the door or crowd outside screaming for a savior Cate never asked to become.

Maybe this is it.

But for now, your breath is warm against her neck. Your fingers are intertwined. And Cate lets herself believe—for a moment—that she’s still someone worthy of being held like this.

It’s gotten worse overnight.

Cate can feel it the second she steps onto the quad that morning.

Eyes don’t just follow her anymore—they weigh her down. Stares press into her like needles, testing how far they can go before she bleeds. Some are reverent. Most are not. Supe students nod in cold approval. Faculty keep their heads low. And the humans still allowed on campus?

They watch her like she’s holding a loaded gun.

Cate adjusts her sunglasses. Keeps walking.

Godolkin has changed. Maybe it always was this way and she just hadn’t noticed. But now there are fences where there used to be gardens. Surveillance drones hover like flies. Metal detectors at every entrance. And worst of all—the new badge system.

Color-coded. Subtle in design, brutal in function.

Supes wear gold. Vought-issued, sleek, with chip-embedded access to every building.

Humans wear red.

No access. No clearance. No rights.

Yours is tucked into your jacket pocket. You hate wearing it. Cate knows. You used to make jokes about it—Look, babe. I’m officially radioactive. But now?

Now it’s not funny.

Cate walks past the fountain. Past the newly erected statue of Brink. Past the place where she once pulled you into the bushes to make out between classes.

She hears the yelling before she sees the crowd.

The checkpoint near the west gate is swarmed. Protesters—mostly human—have gathered with signs and megaphones and looks of disgust aimed at every supe who walks past. Some of them wear anti-supe shirts. Some wear bloodied bandages on their arms. All of them look like they’ve been waiting for a fight.

Cate slows. Frowns.

And then she sees you.

Hoodie up, badge out, already walking toward the checkpoint when the first voice cuts through the crowd.

“Hey traitor!”

Cate freezes.

You don't flinch. Just keep walking.

Another voice. Louder. Meaner.

“Tell me—is the supe pussy really that good, or are you just that fucking pathetic?”

Cate’s heart stutters.

You stop.

You turn—slowly, deliberately—and Cate can see it about to happen. The tension in your jaw. The flare in your nostrils. The way your hands curl into fists. The moment you snap.

“Don’t,” Cate whispers to no one.

But it’s too late.

A cup flies through the air. Hits you square in the chest. Coffee or soda—sticky and dark. It splashes across your shirt, down your jeans. The crowd laughs.

And then you lunge.

Cate’s moving before she even thinks.

She doesn’t remember pushing past the checkpoint. Doesn’t remember snapping her badge at the guard or ducking through the gate. All she knows is the way you’re already halfway over the barricade, snarling like you’re ready to break someone’s jaw.

Cate grabs you from behind. Arms around your waist.

“Baby—don’t.”

“Cate, let go.”

“Please,” Cate says, voice cracked and low. “They want this.”

You tremble in her arms. Vibrating with rage. Sticky soda running down your front, breathing like a cornered animal. Cate presses her forehead between your shoulder blades.

“Don’t give it to them.”

It takes a long moment. Too long. But finally, finally, you sag.

Cate doesn’t let go.

You stand like that—pressed together on the edge of a war—until security disperses the protesters and a drone whirs low to scan Cate’s credentials. Cate doesn’t speak. Doesn’t care. All she can think is: I let this happen.

When you finally turn around, there’s no anger in your eyes.

Just hurt.

“I was just trying to come see you,” you whisper.

Cate reaches up. Wipes something—soda, maybe tears—from your cheek. Her hand shakes.

“I know,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”

But you both know it’s not enough.

She doesn’t even know where her key is.

It takes Cate three tries to get the door open. She hasn’t been back here in weeks, not really—not since everything started to unravel. Since Homelander started circling like a vulture. Since your apartment became the only place that felt remotely like home.

But you can’t go there now.

Too risky.

Too exposed.

So here you are. Cate’s dorm. Four walls and a bed too narrow and a desk covered in unopened mail and protest flyers she never meant to keep. You say nothing as you step inside. Just shrug off your hoodie, wincing when the fabric peels from the sticky soda soaked into your shirt.

Cate doesn’t speak either.

She moves automatically—sets down her bag, goes to the mini-fridge, grabs the half-empty bottle of water, some paper towels, a clean t-shirt from the drawer. Not hers. One of yours. Probably left here by accident months ago.

She doesn’t say that.

Just holds it out. “Sit.”

You sit on the bed without a word.

Cate kneels in front of you.

It’s methodical, the way she cleans you up. Soaked cloth across your collarbone. Across the front of your ribs. Wiping soda from the inside of your elbow like she’s dabbing at a wound. Cate’s movements are gentle but firm, her prosthetic resting quietly on her own knee while her other hand works. You stay still the whole time. Don’t speak. Don’t look away.

Only flinch once—when Cate presses too hard against a bruise she hadn’t noticed forming.

“Sorry,” Cate breathes.

You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

Cate’s hands still.

She lets the silence stretch between them.

Then, quietly: “You shouldn’t have to go through that. Just to be with me.”

You let out a hollow laugh. “You think this is about you?”

Cate looks up. She doesn’t smile. “Isn’t it?”

You exhale. Your eyes are tired. “It’s about all of it, Cate. The checkpoints. The comments. The looks. The fucking badge. They don’t just hate you. They hate that I chose you. That I keep choosing you despite all the shit that comes with it.”

Cate swallows hard. “I don’t want you to have to choose.”

“Well, you don’t get that luxury anymore.”

Cate leans back on her heels. Watches her. Soaks her in. The bruise. The rage. The deep, painful clarity in her voice.

And then—Cate whispers, “What if it’s not enough?”

“What?”

Cate’s voice is barely audible now. “What if love isn’t enough to survive this?”

Your expression softens. “Then we find something else.”

Cate closes her eyes.

She doesn’t want to cry. Not now. Not here.

But it sneaks up anyway.

Not sobs. Just that helpless burn behind her ribs. That stupid catch in her breath.

You reach down. Fingers brushing her cheek. Cate leans into it like she might break without it.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Cate says.

“You won’t.”

Cate opens her eyes again. “But what if staying with me means giving up pieces of yourself?”

You don't hesitate.

“Then I give them up.”

Cate freezes.

“Don’t,” she says. “Don’t say that. You deserve to be whole.”

“So do you.”

Cate looks up at her. Really looks. “Are we willing to tear pieces off ourselves just to fit together?”

You nod. “If that’s what it takes.”

Cate exhales shakily. “And if it still doesn’t work?”

“Then we go down together. Hands clasped.”

Cate crawls up into your lap.

Wraps her arms around your neck. Buries her face against your shoulder.

You sit like that for a long time.

No answers. Just the thrum of hearts trying not to break.

Just two girls on the wrong side of history, holding onto the only thing that still feels real.

At first, she thinks you’re just late.

The checkpoint at the east gate is always a mess—two ID scans, three layers of metal detection, one bored Vought intern assigned to “human entry” like it’s a fucking punishment. Cate waits near the quad, watching her phone. One minute. Two. Ten.

By twenty, the dread starts to bloom.

You always text.

Even when you’re pissed. Even when you fight. Even when you’re drunk and petty and too stubborn to say I miss you, you always text.

Cate tries calling.

Voicemail.

She tries again. Nothing.

The campus feels too loud. Too bright. The shadows crawl longer than they should.

Cate doesn’t walk—she runs to the checkpoint.

It’s empty.

“Where’s the human from this morning?” she snaps at the first supe guard she sees, repeats your name for emphasis. 

The guy shrugs. “Didn’t see her come through.”

“She badged in. I saw the record.”

“Then maybe she tripped a sensor.”

Cate’s stomach knots. “Where is she?”

Another shrug. Too casual. Too clean.

“I want to see the footage.”

“That’s above my clearance.”

Cate doesn’t blink. “Do you know who I am?”

“Yeah,” the guard says, tone going flat. “That’s the problem.”

She stares him down.

And when it’s clear she’s not getting an answer here—not from guards, not from Godolkin—she does the only thing she knows will get her answers.

She goes directly to Vought.

The tower lobby is glass and shadow. Cate’s boots click across the marble as she strides past reception like she owns the place. She doesn’t need clearance. Not anymore. Not since he started treating her like his favorite daughter.

The elevator doors open like they’ve been waiting for her.

When they close, she punches the emergency override. Ninety-ninth floor. Executive access.

The doors slide open again.

And there he is.

Homelander.

Waiting.

Grinning.

“Oh,” he says, voice syrup-slick. “Just the girl I wanted to see.”

Cate doesn’t slow. “Where is she?”

He tilts his head. “You’ll have to be more specific. She is such a broad category.”

“My girlfriend. Human.”

He laughs. “Oh. Right. That one.”

Cate’s pulse spikes.

Homelander walks toward her, slow and easy, hands clasped behind his back. Like he’s got all the time in the world. Like nothing bad could ever possibly touch him.

“I was starting to think you were hiding her,” he says. “You know, for someone who claims to be part of the cause, you’re awfully…conflicted.”

“Where is she.”

He gestures lazily toward the hallway. “Holding. Lower levels. We just had some…questions. She triggered a flag in the system. Old Red River files. Unregistered V exposure, did you know that? Tsk. Sloppy.”

Cate’s mouth goes dry.

“She’s not a threat.”

“She is a human who’s been whispering in your ear,” he replies, stepping closer. “And you’re very important to me, Cate. I can’t have you compromised.”

Cate squares her shoulders. “You can’t have me disobedient. There’s a difference.”

Homelander grins. “Semantics.”

Then, casually, “Let’s make this simple. There are two people in holding right now. Your human. And a young supe who’s been leaking information to the press. You can have one.”

Cate doesn’t move.

Homelander leans in. “I’ll even let you be the one to do it. You can use your powers. Find out which is lying. Who’s worth saving. Easy.”

Cate’s voice cracks. “You want me to use my powers on her.”

“I want you to prove your loyalty.”

Her fists curl.

“You don’t have to hurt her,” he says. “Just…check her thoughts. Peek behind the curtain. Make sure she’s not a traitor to our cause.”

Cate remembers what it feels like. Touching someone and slipping in without consent. Reading everything. Every thought. Every shame. Every fear. It’s a violation, even when it’s done with care.

With you?

It would be…unforgivable.

She turns to leave.

Homelander calls out after her.

“You walk out without choosing,” he says, eyes gone cold, “and they’ll both be gone come morning. You choose, Cate. That’s the deal.”

Cate’s heart slams against her ribs.

And then—

“I’ll do it.”

You’re in a glass room, like some kind of experiment. Cold metal table. One chair. Arms folded. Eyes puffy, but defiant.

Cate steps in.

The door clicks shut behind her.

You stand. “You okay?” Typical of you to instantly worry about Cate.

Cate doesn’t answer.

She just crosses the room. Stops in front of you. Reaches out.

You flinch.

Cate’s ungloved hand hovers. “It’s me,” she whispers. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You look at her. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m getting you out.”

Your eyes narrow. “What did you have to do for him?”

Cate’s hand stills. “Nothing. Yet.”

A beat.

Then, very slowly, Cate wraps her fingers around your wrist.

Skin to skin.

Everything rushes in at once, unbidden—your fear, your anger, your memories of the checkpoint, the sting of the soda, the way your thoughts scream Cate, Cate, Cate over and over like a prayer and a curse and a lifeline all at once.

Cate stumbles back. Gasps for air.

You grab her by the shoulders, grounding her. “Hey—hey, breathe. You okay?”

Cate nods, shaking. She almost looks relieved. “You’re clean. I knew you would be but…”

You frown. “Cate, what did you see?”

Cate meets her eyes. “Just me. Always me.”

And then she pulls her in.

Kisses her like it’s the last moment they’ll ever get.

The elevator door hisses shut behind her.

She’s still breathless.

Your name echoes in her chest like a warning bell—like if she says it out loud, Homelander will hear it and rip the air from her lungs. So she keeps it safely tucked away behind her ribs. She keeps everything tucked away.

Cate walks back into the meeting room like nothing happened.

Like her hands aren’t still trembling. Like her powers didn’t just crack wide open and show her everything you’ve been hiding: the fear, the guilt, the hunger, the love.

Homelander’s waiting.

Looking out the window, hands clasped behind his back like always. The skyline burns behind him in late-afternoon gold.

“Well?” he asks without turning around.

Cate’s voice doesn’t shake.

“She’s clean.”

Homelander turns.

One brow arches.

“No thoughts of betrayal?” he asks, stepping closer. “No little secrets? No anti-supe rhetoric buried in that pretty little head?”

Cate meets his gaze.

“There’s nothing in her mind except me.”

He smiles. Sharp and slow.

“Is that so? How romantic.”

Cate doesn’t blink. “She’s not the threat.”

“Then the other one is.”

Cate hesitates. “I…didn’t read him.”

“You didn’t need to. You chose. That’s what matters.”

She feels the weight of those words like glass in her throat.

Chosen.

That’s what he wanted. Not truth. Not facts. Obedience. A test of loyalty under the guise of mercy.

She passed.

She failed.

She doesn't know which.

Homelander reaches out, pats her on the shoulder. The metal one. His palm lingers just long enough to feel like possession.

“You did good, kid,” he says.

Cate forces a smile. “Thanks.”

He nods. “Dismissed.”

She turns. Makes a beeline to the elevator. Doesn’t let herself shake until the doors close. Doesn’t let herself cry until she’s halfway down.

And when she steps out onto the sidewalk, Vought Tower behind her like a knife in the sky, she does the only thing she can do.

She calls you.

“I’m coming home,” she says.

It’s dark by the time Cate gets home.

Not late—just dark, the way New York gets in the middle of a bad season. Gray skies, heavy air. The kind of night that feels like it’s waiting to fall apart.

The apartment’s quiet. A single lamp on. No music. No TV. Just you, cross-legged on the couch in your sweats, hair pulled back, a bruise blooming low on your jaw.

Cate’s never hated the world more than she does right now.

The door shuts behind her, and for a second—just a second—she forgets how to move.

You look up. Don't smile. Don’t speak.

You just open your arms.

Cate drops her bag. Walks straight into them. Drops to her knees in front of the couch and lets herself be pulled in like she’s being rescued from a war zone.

Which—technically—she is.

Your arms wrap tight around her shoulders. Cate’s head tucks beneath your chin.

Neither of you speak for a long time.

Not until Cate whispers, “I had to lie.”

Your fingers still in her hair. “To him?”

“To myself.”

You pull back just enough to look at her. “What did you tell him?”

“That you were clean. That I read you and there was nothing in your head but me.”

Your brow furrows. “Is that what you saw?”

Cate nods.

Then chokes.

And it all comes spilling out.

“The checkpoint. The coffee. The way you looked at me when I stopped you from swinging. Homelander’s office. The choice. He made me choose. Between you and some traitor of a supe kid. And he said if I didn’t, he’d…kill you both.”

You stare. “And you picked me.”

Cate shakes. “Of course I did.”

You cup her face. “Even if it made you a traitor?”

Cate nods again. “I’d do it again.”

Her voice cracks on the last word.

“I don’t care what side I’m on anymore, baby. I just want to be where you are.”

You kiss her.

It’s not heated. Not desperate. Just steady. Grounding. Cate clutches your shirt like she might float away otherwise.

When you part, Cate exhales hard.

“I’m scared,” she admits.

You brush hair from her eyes. “Of what?”

“That we’re not gonna survive this. That he’s already watching you. That I led him to you.”

Your voice is soft but sure. “Then we stop letting him decide what happens next.”

Cate looks up. “How?”

You shrug. “We leave.”

Cate stares. “Run?”

“Disappear. Start over. Somewhere off the grid. Or…we stay and fight.”

Cate’s breath hitches. “With who?”

“With whoever we can find that still believes in us.”

Cate sinks back into your lap, silent.

She thinks about Marie. Jordan. Emma. 

She thinks about the version of herself she could be if she stopped letting people pull strings through her spine.

“You’d give it all up?” Cate asks.

You meet her gaze. “In a heartbeat.”

Cate nods. Quietly. Slowly. The decision forming between you like a third heartbeat in the room.

“Okay.”

You kiss her temple. “Then we start with this: no more hiding.”

Cate lets out a shaky breath. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” you say. “But this time? We’re scared together.”

Homelander says yes. Without fanfare or resistance.

That’s the part no one really expected.

Cate pitches it like strategy. Like optics. “They’re powerful. They’re visible. You don’t need to punish them—you need to use them. Turn them to our cause.” And he listens. Smirks. Says something about how charming she is when she’s ruthless.

The next morning, Jordan and Emma are cleared to return to Godolkin.

But that’s not the hard part.

The hard part is standing in the quad waiting for them to arrive. Waiting for the transport Vought sends, an armored truck from Elmira, security detail posted like it's a celebrity drop-off, and not two super-abled twenty-somethings who were nearly disappeared by the very institution that claims to protect them.

Cate’s hands shake. You stand beside her, close but silent. You haven't spoken much since you decided to stay. To resist. To try.

Cate’s scared to look at you too long.

Scared she’ll see the same expression she expects from Jordan and Emma: betrayal.

The truck pulls up.

Doors open.

Jordan and Emma are huddled together. Afraid. Well, at least until they see Cate. Then that fear turns into something closer to disgust. Disappointment.

Jordan steps out first—hair longer than before. They look tired. Thinner. Like a flame burned too long. Their eyes flick across the quad, then land on Cate again.

Emma follows, weary, careful to stay hidden behind Jordan, orange uniform hanging loose from her body. Her lip is split. Cate doesn’t know if it’s old or new.

They both stop when they see her.

No hugs. No greetings. Just silence.

Cate steps forward.

“Hey, you guys,” she says softly.

Jordan’s mouth curls. “Brought out the welcoming committee just for us, did you? Fun.”

Cate flinches. “You were cleared this morning. By me.”

Emma tilts her head. “Why?”

Cate’s voice is steadier than she feels. “Because I owe you both more than I’ll ever be able to repay.”

Jordan crosses their arms. “You working for him now?”

Cate doesn’t answer.

Emma scoffs. “That’s what I thought.”

“I’m not working for him,” Cate says. “I’m playing him.”

Jordan laughs, but it’s bitter. “Oh, that’ll end well.”

Cate nods. “Probably not. But if you’re building something—resistance, rebellion, whatever it is—I want in.”

Emma stares at her. “You think we’d trust you after everything?”

“No,” Cate whispers. “But I’m not asking you to trust me.”

Jordan’s voice is low. “Then what are you asking?”

Cate looks at them. Really looks. At the bruises. At the weight. At the grief. At all the cracks she helped cause.

“I’m asking you to let me help fix what I broke.”

A pause.

Then you speak, soft but sharp. “She means it.”

Jordan looks at you.

Something shifts.

Emma doesn’t move. But she doesn’t turn away either.

Finally—Jordan says, “You get one shot.”

Cate nods. “That’s all I need.”

♡ | strange worship ♡ | unlikely friendship ♡ | the only exception