#AND because shes stupid afraid of my other oc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lupinqs · 4 months ago

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CHAPTER EIGHT ━━ Be You, Be Great

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 6.2K

❀ ━ warnings: angst, mentions of a panic attack/anxiety, underage drinking

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: this one is kinda all over the place i was gonna split it in two but i tried and i didn’t like that either so here this is anyways. also not proofread at all soooo

THE END of October brings a drought. Not the kind that wilts leaves or cracks the ground, but one that seeps into Jo’s chest and leaves her feeling parched in a way she can’t quite explain. It’s been weeks now since things between her and Paige started drying up, and, no matter how much Jo tries to ignore it, to act like everything’s fine, the ache of it gnaws at her.

It started just before Paige went back to LA and only worsened when she was there. All Jo got from her was clipped texts and dodged FaceTimes scattered with weak excuses about being busy with rehab. Jo had tried not to overthink it, convincing herself Paige was genuinely overwhelmed and that things would go back to normal when she came home.

They didn’t.

Paige still avoids her—not entirely, of course, because they live together, and avoiding her completely would be impossible. But she’s rarely in the apartment anymore, and when she is, it’s brief and transactional. She’s quiet during their rare interactions, offering half-hearted “hey”s and “what’s up”s before disappearing into her room or heading out the door again.

It’s just so different to how things used to be. Before, Jo could count on Paige to be there—physically, emotionally, all of it. They’d talk about anything and everything, share late-night snacks on the couch, or marathon stupid shows just because they could. Paige was Jo’s favorite person to spend time with. But now, it’s like there’s been a complete flip of a switch.

What makes it worse is the not-knowing. Jo has no idea why Paige is pulling back, why she’s suddenly so distant. She’s racked her brain trying to figure it out, wondering if she said or did something wrong. The thought of it eats at her, but she’s too afraid to bring it up. She’s terrified of making it worse or of Paige telling her something she doesn’t want to hear.

So, she says nothing.

Instead, she busies herself with other people. Ice, for one, has been in a bad place ever since dislocating her knee a few weeks ago. She’s out for the season, and Jo knows all too well how isolating that kind of injury can be. She’s been spending a lot of time with her, trying to cheer her up, keep her distracted. It’s been good for both of them, but not the same.

Nothing is the same without Paige.

And Jo knows that Paige is probably out hooking up with other girls most nights—she’s not stupid. Paige never brings anyone back to their apartment, which Jo is grateful for, but the idea of it still stings in a way she can’t explain. It’s probably just the principle of it, that Paige can go out and entertain these other girls every night while simultaneously acting like Jo doesn’t exist.

And this stupid drought lingers even under the bright lights of Gampel.

It’s First Night, the annual event kicking off the basketball season, and the whole arena is packed. The men’s and women’s teams have been split into two groups for the evening’s competitions, with Andre Jackson and Paige as the respective captains. Jo is on Andre’s team.

The evening kicks off with a dizzying mix of games, dances, and contests, the crowd roaring with every half-court shot and mascot stunt. Jo participates in a few challenges with her team, laughing when Andre attempts to dunk it over one of their managers and fails spectacularly.

It’s fun. It should be fun. But Jo can’t help but feel the weight of Paige’s attention—or lack thereof—throughout the night.

When the three-point contest rolls around, Jo is the last to go. Her name gets called, and the crowd cheers for their new freshman. She steps into her corner, shaking her limbs out. She doesn’t look at Paige—can’t, really—but, somehow, she still feels her gaze from where she stands at half-court. Jo doesn’t know how or why she always seems to register it, but the feeling is continuously at the edge of her awareness.

The contest is a blur. Jo doesn’t miss much, her muscle memory doing most of the work, and when the buzzer sounds, Andre and her teammates swarm her, lifting her arms in victory. She grins, basking in the win of it, but her eyes inevitably find Paige.

The blonde is clapping along with the rest of her team, grinning wide and hyping up the crowd, but when her gaze flicks to Jo, something shutters behind her eyes. She doesn’t approach, doesn’t tease her about beating her team. Doesn’t say a single word.

It hurts more than it should.

Jo retreats back to the sidelines, the cheers still echoing in her ears, though her head has started to hurt a little. Since the day she got here, Paige was always the first to hype her up—always the loudest voice in the room for her. Clearly not anymore.

The rest of the event passes in a haze. Jo keeps up with the energy of her team, but her chest feels heavy, weighed down by everything unsaid and unknown. By the time the night ends, she’s exhausted—not from the competition, but from the effort of pretending that everything’s normal and fine.

As the crowd filters out and the teams gather for a final photo, Jo finds herself standing a few feet from Paige. The photographers are shouting directions, rearranging players into rows, but Jo hardly listens. She risks a glance at Paige, who’s laughing at something Alex Karaban just said, her smile radiant and gummy and perfect under the bright arena lights.

But when Paige’s eyes meet Jo’s, probably having sensed her creepy staring, the smile falters. It’s brief—barely noticeable—but Jo sees it. She feels it. And it twists something deep in her chest.

Jo doesn’t know what she did to deserve this distance, but it’s killing her. Whatever is going on with Paige, clearly it might be bigger than anything Jo can fix.

And as much as she hates to admit it, Jo’s starting to wonder if Paige even wants her to try.

IT’S THE first game of the season—a guaranteed blowout against Northeastern—and the energy around campus is full of excitement. Paige should be, too. The start of a new season is always her favorite time of year, a chance to do what she loves most and remind herself why she worked so hard to get here. But this year, it feels more like a countdown to a role she doesn’t want to play.

Paige knows she should be grateful. Grateful that her recovery has gone smoothly so far. Grateful that she’s still part of the team she’s always dreamed of playing for, even if it’s from the sidelines. But sitting out isn’t what she was built for. She misses the adrenaline of the game, the weight of the ball in her hands, the feeling of sneakers skidding across the court as she runs a fast break. She misses the pressure—real pressure—and the way it forces her into focus like nothing else. Without it, she feels… aimless.

So, she’s determined to channel her energy elsewhere. If she can’t play, she’ll hype. She’ll coach. She’ll be Coach P, the way everyone loves her to be. It’s easier that way. Easier to focus on everyone else than to deal with the mess she’s made for herself.

Jo is a big part of that mess.

Paige hasn’t spent a single night in their apartment since she got back to LA—not one. It’s not like she doesn’t want to. She misses the way things were before, how easy and natural it was to be around Jo before everything got so damn complicated. But the thought of sitting in bed with Jo beside her, watching a movie or eating takeout like they always did, feels like far too much.

So, she stays away. She’s made a habit of bouncing between other people’s beds—random girls whose names she barely remembers by the morning. Paige has always been a little reckless when it comes to that stuff, but lately, it’s spiraled into something worse. A distraction. A way to drown out the feelings she doesn’t want to deal with.

But even in that, she’s careful. She doesn’t bring anyone back to her and Jo’s apartment—not after Jo saw Celeste sneaking out during the summer. Paige doesn’t want to do that—doesn’t want Jo to be dragged into her mess.

Paige tells herself she’s protecting both of them by keeping her distance. If she gives herself a little more time, maybe the feelings will face. Maybe they’ll go back to being normal, just friends, the way they’re supposed to be.

But the truth is, Paige doesn’t think it’s working.

She still catches herself watching Jo during practice, noting things she shouldn’t. The way her hair falls into her face when she’s running drills. The soft laugh she lets out whenever Nika says something characteristically stupid. The way she moves on the court—so quick and sharp, like she’s always a step ahead of everyone else. It makes Paige’s stomach flip in a way she hates.

And the more time that’s passed, the more Paige has wondered if she’s just fooling herself. That maybe these feelings aren’t going anywhere at all. That maybe this is just who she is now—stuck and restless, with a hopelessly crush on her roommate, teammate, someone who’s supposed to be her best friend.

She shakes the thought off as she walks into Gampel for shoot-around. Her teammates laugh and joke as they warm up, excited. Paige pulls on her best version of normal, slinging her arm around Azzi and teasing Nika about her taped-up finger.

It works for a while. Her voice rings out as she cheers for Lou’s perfect three-pointer, then for Aaliyah’s easy layup. She’s Paige—bright and loud and focused on everyone but herself.

Afterward, the team files back into the locker room, their chatter bouncing off the walls. Paige trails behind, mentally cataloging what she’ll say during the pregame huddle. But when she glances around the room, she realizes something’s missing.

Someone’s missing.

Jo isn’t there.

It’s not entirely unusual for Jo to slip away for a few minutes—she’s probably grabbing water or something. But Paige’s chest tightens anyway. She leans toward Ice, who’s scrolling through her phone on the bench.

“Hey, you seen Jo?” Paige asks, trying to sound casual.

Ice shrugs without looking up. “She couldn’t have gone far.” Then she glances at Paige, and gives her a look. Her eyebrows lift just enough to make the blonde feel like she’s been caught in a lie she hasn’t even told yet.

Paige’s jaw clenches. She straightens and brushes it off with a quick, “Thanks,” ignoring the unspoken why do you care now? hanging in Ice’s expression.

She slips out of the locker room before anyone else can ask questions, her sneakers squeaking faintly on the polished floor. The back hallways of Gampel are quiet except for the muffled sound of the crowd filtering in through the concrete walls. Paige assumes Jo’s probably just off clearing her head.

But then she hears it.

It’s faint at first, just a sharp, broken sound that makes her pause mid-step. She tilts her head, frowning as she listens harder. For a moment, there’s nothing, just the distant murmur of the arena. Then it comes again—a soft, muffled sob.

Paige stills.

Her chest tightens as she slowly scans the hallway, her eyes narrowing. She knows that sound. It’s raw, unfiltered, the kind of cry that comes from deep inside. Her feet move before she can think, her pulse quickening as she rounds another corner.

And there, huddled in a little alcove off to the side, is Jo.

Her head is buried in her hands, her shoulders trembling violently as her chest heaves with shallow, rapid breaths. Even from a few feet away, Paige can see how hard she’s struggling, her whole body curling in on itself as if trying to disappear.

Paige stops dead in her tracks.

She doesn’t know what to do. Jo isn’t supposed to look like this—broken and vulnerable and so completely unlike herself. Jo’s the happiest, brightest, smiliest person she’s ever met. But here she is, falling apart right in front of Paige, and it feels like the air’s been sucked out of the hallway.

“Jo?” Paige asks softly, hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”

Jo’s head snaps up, her tear-streaked face whipping toward Paige in a startled panic. Her wide, glassy eyes lock on hers for a split second before she looks away, hurriedly wiping at her cheeks with the sleeve of her warm-ups.

“It’s fine,” Jo blurts, her voice cracking as she waves Paige off. “’M fine. Nothing’s wrong. Just—it’s okay. You can go.”

But Paige isn’t going anywhere.

She steps closer slowly, cautiously, her heart pounding as she watches Jo’s chest rise and fall too quickly, her breathe shallow and uneven. Jo’s hands tremble where they’re clenched in her lap, her knuckles white, and Paige begins to recognize the signs.

“Jo,” Paige says again, firmer this time. She crouches slightly, trying to meet Jo’s gaze. “Hey, it’s okay. You can talk to me. I’m here.”

Jo shakes her head violently, her lips trembling as she stares down at her hands. “I don’t—I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she stammers, her voice shaking. “I just—I can’t—” She breaks off, gasping for air as another sob wracks her body.

Paige’s stomach twists. She drops to one knee, her hand hovering awkwardly near Jo’s arm before she finally touches her, rubbing gentle circles on Jo’s sleeve. “Hey, hey, just breathe,” she says softly, trying to keep her voice steady even though she feels like she’s about to unravel herself. “Slow and deep, yeah? Just breathe with me.”

But Jo can’t. Her breaths are too fast, too shallow, and the tears keep coming, spilling down her flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Jo chokes out. “I’m so sorry, I don’t even know why—I don’t know why I’m like this. Maybe it’s because I forgot to take my anxiety meds today, or—or maybe it’s just everything. I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Paige says gently, nodding even though she feels completely out of her depth. “Okay. That’s okay. Just take your time.”

Jo sniffles, and Paige watches as the younger girl’s nails dig into the fabric of her warm-up pants. “I’m just so nervous,” she admits, her words coming out in a frantic, breathless rush. “Even though I know—it’s so stupid, I know—we’re gonna win by, like, forty points. But I can’t stop thinking about. I don’t wanna mess up. I don’t wanna disappoint anyone.”

Paige’s heart cracks a little more with every word, though she knows it’s not entirely abnormal for a freshman to feel this way. That doesn’t matter. She doesn’t want Jo to feel this way.

The brunette’s breathing stilts again, her voice rising a little as she continues. “Especially not you,” she says. The words come out so soft, so sad, that Paige almost doesn’t hear them. “I don’t wanna disappoint you.”

Paige opens her mouth to say something, but Jo keeps going, her voice trembling as fresh tears begin to fill her eyes. “I—I know I’ve disappointed you—or—or made you mad,” she stumbles, her breath hitting on a quiet sob. “I had to have, right? Because, I mean—why—why else would you be ignoring me?”

Paige’s heart stutters at the words.

Jo’s tear-filled eyes finally meet hers, and Paige is struck by how wide and vulnerable, like every signal wall Jo has ever built is crumbling down. Her lip trembles as she whispers, “What did I do to make you hate me, Paige?”

The question lingers in the air, hanging heavy between them, suffocating Paige with its weight. The words pulse in her chest, beating against her rib cage, and suddenly, she feels like she can’t breathe either. The guilt crashes into her like a tidal wave, a suffocating, all-consuming force.

She should’ve been more considerate. She should’ve seen this coming—Jo’s feelings. She should’ve taken the time to explain, to talk it out. But instead, she had pulled away, had put this distance between them, thinking about all of her own feelings without even giving a thought to Jo’s. And now Jo thinks she hates her. Hates her. The thought slices through Paige, a sharp pain that she can’t shake. It feels like a punch to the gut. The fact that Jo—perfect, pretty, happy, sweet, smart, everything that’s good in the world Jo—could ever believe that makes Paige realize just how much she’s fucked this all up.

I’ve never hated you, Paige thinks desperately, but the words feel so empty, so hollow. They’re not enough. They’ll never be enough.

The irony of it hits her like a ton of bricks—Jo thinks she hates her, but the truth is far more complicated. Because it’s the exact opposite. I like you too much. The thought pops into Paige’s head unbidden, and her heart skips a beat.

She takes a shaky breath, her hand instinctively reaching up toward Jo’s face. The movement feels foreign, almost bold, but her fingers are gentle as they sweep under Jo’s eyes, wiping away some of the tears that still stain her cheeks. For a moment, Jo doesn’t react, her eyes still unfocused, the remnants of panic still visible in her expression. But then, slowly, her gaze meets Paige’s. Brown on blue, the contact feels like a jolt, like electricity running through her veins.

Paige’s heart stumbles, and she can’t stop herself from cupping Jo’s cheeks in her hands, cradling her face softly. She needs Jo to understand, needs her to hear this. She needs to make it clear—I don’t hate you. The words are stuck in her throat, tangled up with everything else she’s been feeling, but they finally tumble out, heavy and full of suppressed emotion.

“God, Joey,” she whispers thickly, “I could never hate you.”

Jo’s eyes are wide, filled with confusion and hurt, and she opens her mouth as if to protest, but then she asks, her voice barely a whisper, “Then—then why have you been ignoring me?”

Paige feels the weight of that question settle into her bones. She wants to tell Jo everything, to be honest, but the words fall down her windpipe as soon as they’re formed. You’re the reason I’ve been pushing you away, she wants to say. It’s you, Jo. It’s you, it’s you, it’s you. But she’d never admit that. It’s not fair—not when Jo’s happy with Asher. There’s no need to complicate things further for something that will never happen.

So, instead, Paige forces herself to breathe, to steady herself before speaking again. She looks at Jo, trying to read the sadness in her eyes, the confusion, the vulnerability that still lingers despite the panic subsiding. Paige feels another hot sting of guilt—how could she have let Jo feel this way? How could she have been so careless?

“I’ve just been in a bad place in my head recently,” Paige says, her voice quieter now, more measured. It’s not exactly a lie. It’s just that the full truth is too messy, too tangled. She needs a reason that makes sense, something Jo can understand, something that doesn’t risk breaking everything between them. “I’ve been frustrated with my knee, and… I guess it’s just all piled up.”

Jo listens, nodding slowly, her expression still tight with uncertainty. Paige adds, carefully, feeling the weight of the words press down on her, “And—and I really like this girl who doesn’t like me back.” She pauses, her stomach twisting with the admission, even though it’s only half of the truth. “And all of it together—it’s just… it’s made me pull away from almost everyone. I don’t really know how to deal.”

Jo takes in the words, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment, her fingers twitching nervously against her thighs. Paige watches her closely, hoping that Jo can make sense of everything she’s said, that she can understand why Paige has acted the way she has in some capacity.

“But,” the blonde adds, knowing it’s necessary, “it’s not excuse. None of it is. I shouldn’t of pulled away. I shoulda talked to you, told you what was goin’ on. And I’m really fucking sorry I didn’t.”

For a long moment, there’s silence, and all Paige can do is wait, her heart hammering in her chest. Jo’s breathing has finally evened out, the tension in her shoulders beginning to ease, but there’s still an underlying fragility in the air.

Finally, Jo says quietly, “Okay.”

Without thinking, Paige reaches out, pulling Jo into a tight hug. Her arms wrap around Jo instinctively, holding her close, and for a moment, Paige can’t help but think about how perfect Jo feels in her arms like this. How soft and warm and real she is. The weight of Jo’s body against hers, the way Jo fits into her arms, feels so right that it almost takes Paige’s breath away. She buries her face in Jo’s hair, breathing in the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo, the feeling of Jo finally grounding Paige in way that she hasn’t felt in far too long.

“’M sorry,” Paige murmurs into Jo’s hair. “’M so sorry for making you feel like that.”

Paige isn’t sure how long they stay like that, locked together, before she feels Jo’s hands move, shifting just slightly, gently beginning to pull away. The movement feels like a cold wind cutting through the warmth of the hug, and Paige immediately feels the absence, the space between them growing far too wide. She wants to reach out and pull Jo back into her, to hold her tighter and never let go, but—obviously—she doesn’t.

Jo’s eyes are still slightly red, but as she pulls back, her lips curve into the softest, most forgiving smile, a smile that feels so Jo—genuine and kind, even when everything else is unraveling. It’s almost unbearable to see, because Paige knows that Jo doesn’t deserve to be this forgiving. She doesn’t deserve to feel like this was all just something to brush off.

“It’s okay,” Jo says, her words wrapped in warmth, in that same kindness that makes her who she is. But Paige knows that it’s not okay. She knows that, even if Jo’s forgiven her, Paige is not so quick to forgive herself, because what she’s done is not okay.

It goes silent between them again for a long moment. Paige can’t think of what to say. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. She wants to apologize again, over and over, to make sure Jo really knows. But the clock is ticking. The game is still ahead of them. The pressure of it presses in on her chest, and she knows that they can’t have this conversation now. Not before the game. Not when the adrenaline needs to take over and the court demands focus.

Paige takes a steadying breath, feeling the air fill her lungs, forcing her thoughts to calm down. She needs to help Jo. She needs to get her head in the right space before the game. Jo is here, with her, needing her. And as much as the emotional weight of everything is damn near overwhelming her, Paige pushes it aside.

She reaches forward, gently but firmly placing her hands on Jo’s shoulders, giving her a soft but decisive push to meet her eyes. Jo’s gaze lifts to meet Paige’s with a quiet, uncertain trust, and Paige feels the familiar surge of responsibility that always floods her when her teammates need her. She’s a leader. She has to lead. And right now, Jo needs her to.

“My dad texts me before every game I play in,” Paige says steadily. “‘Be you, be great.’ That’s all you gotta do today, Joey. Just be you, and it’ll come to you.”

It’s simple, but true. Jo doesn’t need anything more than to be herself. She doesn’t need to try to be perfect or live up to expectations that aren’t hers. She just needs to trust herself, trust her game.

Jo’s eyes shift slightly, a flicker of understanding crossing her face. It’s there, but it’s still guarded. The smile that Paige so desperately wants to see doesn’t fully reach Jo’s eyes yet, but it’s a start. She nods slowly, a small motion, but enough to let Paige know she’s listening.

“Josephine fuckin’ Jacobson,” Paige continues, saying her full name for emphasis, “you are such a good basketball player. And you’re gonna do great. Okay? Be you, be great.”

Jo takes a deep breath, and Paige watches as the tension seems to slowly ease off of her. She nods, more definitively this time, the hint of a real smile tugging at her lips. It’s small, but it’s there.

“Okay,” Jo says quietly, before repeating the word more firmly. “Okay.”

PAIGE’S MIND is fuzzy, her limbs heavy with the after effects of one too many dirty shirley’s. Despite the November chill, she feels hot, and her feet shuffle unevenly as she and Jo stumble back toward their apartment. They’re both absolutely hammered—there’s no other way to describe it. The world feels a little hazy, like everything around her is softly swaying. Her head spins, and it’s all a bit much, but it’s also freeing in a way. She hasn’t felt this loose, this light, in a long time.

Their win against Northeastern and the start of the season fills the air, hanging around them like a celebratory cloud. Jo played like Jo—21 points, 5 assists, 4 boards, 4 steals—just as Paige knew she would. A great collegiate debut, and Paige had watched every second of it from the bench, locked in. She’d felt so proud—and even a little awestruck—that Jo went out there and did that, after having such an emotionally charged pre-game.

Now, as they weave their way back to their apartment, arms brushing, legs tangling as they trip over their own feet, that sense of pride is still lodged in Paige’s chest, warm and comforting, like a glow that won’t fade. She can’t stop giggling, low and breathy, as Jo laughs along beside her. Their words are slurred, but that doesn’t stop them. Everything is funny—every little thing. Every misstep, every giggle, every second of pure chaos that they’re living in right now is a spark of joy after having been without it for too long.

Paige’s thoughts drift lazily, floating between the haze of the alcohol and the warmth of the night. She’s not sure when they’d started leaning into each other—just that they are now, and it feels comfortable. Familiar. Nice. Perfect. Great.

“You good?” Jo asks in a voice that’s too loud as she unlocks the front door to their apartment, then bursts into giggles again.

Paige snorts, stumbling a bit more dramatically than necessary. “I’m so good,” she says, her voice sounding more slurred than she means it to be. She throws an arm around Jo’s shoulder to steady herself, but the weight of her makes Jo stumble, and they both neatly collapse into the wall. They’re laughing too hard to care.

As soon as the door shuts behind them, Jo gasps suddenly and jerks her arm away, running ahead, the sound of her feet echoing down the hallway. Paige, still a bit off balance, blinks in confusion for a moment, then laughs drunkenly. “Bro—where you goin’?” she asks, her voice trailing off into giggles as she watches Jo hurry toward her bedroom.

Paige follows slowly. It’s odd, in a way—this whole night, this whole feeling. This morning when she woke up, she never expected to be here with Jo, giggling and laughing and things feeling normal again. She probably assumed she’d just be in someone else’s bed. But she’s not, she’s here—with Jo.

Jo. Jo, Jo, Jo, Jo, Jo. She’s so good at basketball, and she’s so good at being there for Paige, even when Paige fucks up. She’s still here, still making everything feel lighter than air.

Paige leans against the doorframe of Jo’s bedroom, watching the younger girl move around her room, back and forth, rifling through her closet with purpose. Clearly, she’s looking for something.

“Joey, what’re you doin’?” Paige asks. Her question hangs in the air, teasing, but it’s laced with affection—Paige can’t hide that part. Especially in her tipsy state, Paige can’t help but stare at Jo with a smile that feels like it’s stretching her face.

Jo doesn’t answer. She’s clearly very focused on something, her movements a little clumsy but endearing. Paige watches her closely, and she lets out another small laugh without meaning to. Her eyes stay glued to Jo, to how everything she does seems to command Paige’s attention. It shouldn’t be a surprise though—even without alcohol in her system, Jo is always there, always occupying every inch of Paige’s thoughts. Maybe it’s starting to get a little pathetic, actually.

Then, Jo suddenly straightens up, a gleam in her eyes. She pulls something out of the depths of her closet—a gift-wrapped box. She bounds over to Paige with her infectious energy, and before Paige can fully process what’s happening, Jo grabs her hand and tugs her into the room, practically pulling her off her feet in her enthusiasm. The force of it makes Paige stumble a little, but it doesn’t matter—Jo’s laughter fills the room, a sound so bright that it makes Paige’s chest swell.

The door slams shut behind them. Paige watches as Jo shoves the gift into her hands, still grinning, still beaming like she’s giving Paige the greatest gift in the world.

“Happy late birthday!” Jo’s words are slurred but joyful.

It is late. Very late, in fact. But Paige had been in LA during her actual birthday, and when she got back, Jo didn’t really have time to give her her gift for… obvious reasons.

But she’s here, giving her one now, and Paige feels so cared for and seen that she can barely even focus on what’s in her hands. The wrapping paper crinkles under her fingers as she tears it open, the motion slow and clumsy, but she feels her heart beat a little faster as Jo watches her do it with those wide eyes full or excitement.

The gift is a Lego set.

It’s one Paige has wanted for months, one that she’d seen in the store and practically drooled over, but she’d never let herself buy it. Jo and Aaliyah and Ines had been with her there, watching her ponder over whether or not to buy it. She decided not to, deeming it too expensive even if she certainly could afford it. But she already had, like, five sets in her hands—so, it was definitely a no-go that day.

But now she’s holding that set, because of Jo. Jo spent money on it, just for Paige. Just because she knew how much it would mean to her.

“Joey!” she exclaims, her voice full of awe and genuine surprise. She turns to Jo, blue eyes wide.

“Do you like?” Jo asks, voice soft but still excited.

“I love!” Paige responds with a wide, goofy smile. It’s true. She loves the thought behind it, the gesture, the fact that Jo cares enough to get her this, let alone anything.

It’s not long before Paige flops onto her back on Jo’s bed, the Lego set abandoned to the side, her arms stretched out like a starfish. Jo plops down next to her, the mattress dipping under her weight, and Paige has to fight the instinct—drunk and probably sober, too—to pull her closer. It would be so easy. One hand on Jo’s waist, the other around her shoulder, tucking her against her chest. It’s a dangerous thought, one Paige shouldn’t even entertain, but the drunkenness isn’t helping her self-control. Instead, she keeps her hands firmly to herself, pressing them into the comforter. She stares up at the ceiling for a moment before her gaze inevitably shifts to Jo.

Jo is staring at the ceiling, too, wide-eyed, like she’s marveling at the sheer existence of it. Her mouth falls open in an exaggerated “wow,” and Paige bites her lip to stifle yet another laugh.

“The world is spinning,” Jo announces, her voice filled with awe and disbelief, like she’s just uncovered some profound universal truth.

Paige can’t hold back her laughter this time. It bubbles out of her, loud and unabashed. “Bro, you’re so drunk,” she says, turning her head to look at her more directly.

Jo grins and shifts her gaze, meeting Paige’s eyes. “No, you’re so drunk!” she fired back, her words slurring slightly as she pokes Paige in the shoulder for emphasis.

They’re both laughing now, the kind of laughter that comes from being young and carefree and absolutely wasted. It’s the kind of moment Paige wants to capture and keep forever, this version of Jo so happy and light and hers, if only for now.

But then, the sharp trill of a phone cuts through the moment, jolting them both from their drunken bubble. Jo groans, her head tipping back against the mattress as if the mere thought of moving is too much effort. “Ugh, noooo,” she whines, squirming around to try and reach into her back pocket where her phone is ringing insistently.

Paige sits up slightly, propping herself on one elbow, laughing at Jo’s struggles. “C’mon, champ,” she teases, watching the younger girl twist and wriggle until she finally manages to pull her phone free. Jo squints at the screen, her tongue sticking out a little in concentration, before she lets out a soft, “Oh. It’s Asher.”

The name hits Paige like a splash of cold water, instantly sobering her. She forces her face to stay neutral, her heart sinking just slightly as Jo answers the call. She tries to brush it off, but it feels like someone just yanked her back to reality.

Jo’s voice brightens as she presses the phone to her ear. “Hiiii, what do you want?” she greets, the words teasing but affectionate. Paige watches her closely, her eyes scanning Jo’s face, cataloging every expression as Asher’s voice hums faintly on the other side of the line. She can’t make out the words, but she doesn’t really need to. Jo’s smile tells her everything she doesn’t want to know.

“Yes, I’m drunk,” Jo says with a laugh, rolling her eyes playfully. Another pause, another response Paige doesn’t hear. “Okay, yes, I will.” Jo giggles, the sound light and airy, and Paige’s chest aches. “Yes, I love you, too. Byeeee!” Jo hangs up with a flourish, tossing the phone toward the foot of the bed. It bounces off and clatters to the floor, but Jo just laughs. “Oops.”

Paige tries to laugh with her, but it doesn’t come as easily as before. She’s too caught up in the sting of hearing Jo say those words so effortlessly. I love you too. It’s not like Paige hasn’t heard it before, but tonight, when they’ve spent the whole evening laughing and leaning into each other’s space, it feels sharper, harder to ignore.

Before she can think too much, Jo scoots closer, collapsing onto Paige with a happy sigh. Her head rests on Paige’s chest, and Paige freezes, her heart slamming against her robe as a Jo mumbles, “Boys,” in an exasperated tone, as if that single word explains everything.

Paige forces a chuckle, but it’s quieter now, more subdued. Her mind races, but she doesn’t move. She can’t. She doesn’t trust herself to touch Jo, even though she wants to, desperately. She wants to wrap her arms around her, hold her tight, tell her that boys are stupid and unnecessary and that Paige could love her better, so much better. But she doesn’t.

Jo’s breathing slows and it seems within moments, she’s out cold, the alcohol taking everything out of her, her body heavy and warm against Paige’s. Paige shifts slightly, careful not to disturb her, and lets out a shaky breath. She hesitates, then lifts a hand, brushing it gently through Jo’s hair. The soft strands glide through her fingers, and it’s soothing in a way she can’t explain, even if it makes her chest hurt.

She stares at Jo, at the peaceful expression on her face. She shouldn’t feel this way. She knows that. But knowing—or the stupid space shit she tried that was clearly bad for both of them—doesn’t stop the feelings. It doesn’t stop the yearning or the way her stomach flips every time Jo looks at her. It doesn’t stop the way she knows Jo is happy with Asher, that Jo loves him, that Paige will never be anything more than her best friend.

But she decides that it’s enough. That it has to be. If this is the only way she can have Jo, then she’ll take it. She’ll take the laughter, the late nights, the moments like these where Jo trusts her enough to fall asleep on her. She’ll take Jo in any way she’ll give her, even if it breaks her heart a little more every day.

Because loving Jo, even from a distance, even like this, feels like the most natural thing in the world.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #wcbb #wbb #uconn #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers series #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #wcbb x reader #ncaa wbb #nobody gets me #wlw #lgbtq

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icarusflewsworld · 5 months ago

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Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the chapter 19 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

I hope you enjoyed reading and had a good time!!!

Since it's Christmas next week, the next chapter or maybe the next chapters will be posted in a week. On Friday, December 27th.

So I wish you an excellent day and a good weekend. But above all I wish you a very very very merry Christmas with lots and beautiful presents under the your Christmas tree. I hope you are happy. With all my love, ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

! Don't forget to read the other chapters ! : Here

Enjoy the read ! ❤️❤️❤️

Chapter 19

Azriel's leg bounced nervously up and down and his fists were clenched on his thighs. Despite the fact that he was sitting on the living-room sofa, his back was straight, contracted all over. He stared at his lord in awe, "You're not seriously considering this, Rhys?" He'd thought he was hallucinating when his brother had offered to take Luxiana to the Weaver to retrieve her mother's ring. He'd thought he was hallucinating when his brother had proposed taking his little, smiling, sunny, weak and fragile mate to steal from a creature as powerful, crazy, cruel and dangerous as the Weaver. "It's far too dangerous! She's only human!"

Rhysand sighed again. He had crossed his arms. He was trying to stand up straight and look confident as his two brothers stared at him in horror. "Precisely, as she has no magic, the Weaver won't feel her. She'll just have to be as quiet as possible." He'd given it a lot of thought last night. His mother had left his engagement ring with the Weaver for several reasons: so that he wouldn't misuse it, and to make sure that the woman he wanted to marry was strong enough. His mother had explained to him that becoming the wife of a high lord was dangerous, and that the person he wished to marry would have to be at least cunning and courageous enough to steal his ring from the Weaver. Even so, he couldn't quell the huge ball of anguish clenching his stomach violently. He knew Azriel was right. It was so dangerous and he was so afraid for his mate.

"And if she detects her, what are we going to do, eh, Rhys?" spat Azriel, rising from the sofa abruptly. He could feel that his eyes were wide open and he could well imagine them injecting with blood. He wanted to make his brother eat the floor. How could he contemplate putting their soul mate in such danger over a stupid ring? He held back from staring at his lord with a grimace of disgust. He didn't deserve Luxiana.

Cassian was on the other sofa. He had his neck bent back and a thinking gaze on the ceiling. He was thinking. His two brothers were right. He didn't like knowing his mate was in danger, but he knew Rhysand's mother would have wanted Luxiana to be able to get through this. Especially when she was linked to the three of them. He wanted so much to respect the woman who had saved him from cold and starvation, but at the same time, he was terrified that his cute little human would end up hurt. Or worse. But he also knew she was resourceful and could survive. In any case, he wouldn't let anything happen to her, even if he had to die under the power of the weaver, he'd get his future wife to safety first. "Then we'll go get her and protect her," he asserted to Az, straightening his head to stare at the Illyrian with the blue siphons.

Azriel turned towards Cassian to widen his eyes. "Because you're okay with this???" he shouted through clenched teeth. He felt like he'd been plunged into water so cold he couldn't breathe. He was tetanized by the hatred he felt for his brothers.

"Cass is right, there's no reason for her to get hurt, we'll prevent that from happening," Rhysand added in a calm voice he didn't even know how he managed to have, while inside he was as anxious and trembling as Azriel.

"What if we don't make it in time??" The spy master gesticulated in all directions. "Need I to remind you who the Weaver is? She's considered a goddess because she's so powerful! Far more powerful than the three of us put together, Rhys. She's protected by laws and a high lord isn't allowed near her. Whatever happens, it will only get us into trouble. And I don't want any of that trouble to be my soul mate being injured!"

Rhysand let all his air go as he dropped onto one of the sofas. He knew he'd break every law to keep his soulmate from getting hurt, and that he'd take the consequences without flinching. But he also knew that Azriel was not wrong and that many things could go wrong. He rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. He stayed like that for a moment, hating himself with every fiber of his being. He hated himself. He'd never get over it if Luxiana was hurt because of him. The Weaver was so powerful that anything could happen to Luxiana before he could reach her and teleport her away. But at the same time, all Luxiana had to do was to go in, steal the ring and come out all silent. The Weaver was blind, she wouldn't even know she was there.

He dropped his forearms to his thighs to stare at Azriel with a worried but sad look on his face. "I believe in fate and I'm convinced that my mother knew what she was doing. I'm convinced that she subconsciously knew that the three of us would share the same soul mate and that's why she adopted you. I'm convinced she suspected that our soul mate would be able to get that ring back. She wouldn't have left it there otherwise."

"Rhys, do you hear yourself?" shouted Azriel, flabbergasted. "Your mother wasn't a prophet! You want to risk our soulmate’s life for a stupid ring!"

Rhysand gritted his teeth and lowered his eyes.

Cassian leapt to his feet, anger pulsing through his veins all at once. "Be careful how you talk. She saved us. We owe her respect. And anyway, I told you, I wouldn't let our mate die."

Azriel glared at him. How dare he think he didn't respect Rhys's mother when he considered her his own. But he could believe whatever he wanted. The important thing now was his Luxiana. "What if she's hurt? Can you imagine her in pain? Can you bear the thought of her suffering, even for a second? I can't. I can't! It would destroy me to know she's in pain, even if it's just a scratch! And you too, for God's sake. Even ignoring the fact that she's our soul mate, we're Illyrians, it's in our fucking genes. It would kill us to see her hurt!" He grunted, trying to calm himself but failing. He turned to his lord to speak more calmly. "Rhys, you know I loved your mother, but there's no way she could have known our soul mate was human and fragile. She certainly wouldn't have left that ring there otherwise."

A heavy silence settled over them, pressing down on their chests. Azriel couldn't breathe, but he didn't even realize it, too absorbed in killing his two brothers with his eyes. Cassian looked doubtfully between Rhysand and Azriel. They were both right, and he was lost. He didn't know what to do or think. Rhysand was staring into space. He felt so bad. So guilty for having suggested this. He'd never get over it if Luxiana was hurt because of him.

"Maybe we're getting in over our heads," Cassian finally says, forcing his two brothers to turn questioning irises on him. "Let's just tell her the idea and the risks and leave it at that. It's her choice, after all."

Azriel rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Haven't you figured out who she is yet? I mean, she's bound to want to. She doesn't seem to give a damn about putting her life in danger. It's up to us to stop her, but you don't seem to have figured that out yet."

Rhysand cleared his throat so as not to look as bad as he felt. "Maybe, but anyway, if we don't keep her busy, she's going to want us to go and get the book of breathing so she can get back to Feyre as soon as possible. At least this way, we keep her with us a little longer."

Azriel closed his eyes fiercely, his nostrils swelling. He couldn't believe his ears. None of them deserved Luxiana. And worst of all, he didn't stand a chance against them. They were two against him.

"Let's go wake her up and talk to her about it," Cassian breathed as he rose to his feet. "We'll see what happens and what she says."

Rhysand nodded, stood up and set off. Azriel reluctantly followed his two brothers. They walked in a heavy silence. Azriel gritted his teeth so hard his skull ached. His gait was stiff. Rhysand walked swiftly with an air of determination, but it was mainly to get there as quickly as possible before ducking out. He felt like throwing up. Cassian could feel a mixture of similar emotions running through his veins. He felt everything his brothers felt. He was lost. He moved forward with folded arms.

They arrived in front of Luxiana's room. Rhysand's almost trembling hand rose to knock on the door, and they waited there, restraining themselves from running away. The door opened slowly, revealing their soul mate. And when they discovered her - in a white silk nightie reaching halfway up her thighs, with what seemed to be the remains of a bun around her tangled hair that went in all directions, with a face marked by the folds of the sheets as she looked at them with half-closed eyes - nothing else mattered. Nothing else mattered to the three Illyrians but her.

"Hum?" she groaned, squinting a little more. She glanced at the morning sunlight seeping through her bay window before shifting her pupils to the three Illyrians. What time was it? What were they doing there? God, they were so sexy. She wasn't used to this kind of vision as soon as she woke up, but she liked the idea. She rubbed both eyelids with her fists. She rested her irises on the three Illyrians in front of her, whom she suddenly found abnormally white. "Is everything all right? What's going on?" She cleared her throat, but her voice was still raspy.

Cassian couldn't help but laugh tenderly, almost mockingly, as he detailed her. Her pupils sparkled so brightly he could feel them. He stared down at her hungrily. She was so sexy like that. The desire awakening inside him heated him up completely. God, he wanted to kiss every inch of her legs.

Fireworks exploded in Azriel's chest, spreading through his whole body to tickle him. His arm muscles burned, he wanted to hug her. His fingers stung, he wanted to touch her. He moistened his dry lips, he wanted to kiss her. How could anyone be so cute? His soul mate was the sweetest woman who'd ever walked this earth. There was no way he was going to let Rhysand put her in danger.

Rhysand's heart missed a long beat. A very long one. So long that he felt like falling, forcing him to take a step back to catch himself. He wanted to see this every morning. He just wanted to spend his life with this woman. His whole life. But she was only human. It would be so short. He had to preserve her to keep her alive as long as possible. Anyway, he couldn't even imagine hurting her. "Nothing," he finally breathed, smiling.

Cassian and Azriel turned a shocked, questioning gaze towards him. Rhysand took another step backwards, paying no attention to his brothers. "Nothing at all," he added in the same way. He took a deep breath, relieved. It was safer this way. "Sorry to have bothered you." Unable to restrain himself, he raised his hand to gently caress the angle of his soulmate's jaw with his fingertips. It had only lasted a second before his arm fell back, but he'd been electrocuted through and through. He took another step backwards.

"But Rhys...," Cassian began in their heads with total incomprehension and glancing at Azriel who was in the same state.

"Az was right, I'm an asshole," he replied telepathically. "How could I even think for a second about putting our soul mate in danger. Look at her. It's out of the question. I don't want to risk it," he turned to start walking away from the room. He cursed himself. How could he have considered taking such a risk?

Azriel took a deep breath as he closed his eyes. His brother had come to his senses. He wasn't so bad after all. He returned his gaze to Luxiana, who detailed them with a curious, tilted head. He smiled tenderly. She was so adorable. "Go back to bed." He reached for the handle to close the door, but Luxiana shook her head at the sight of him.

She slipped through the room's narrowing opening to chase Rhys, grabbing him by the sleeve of his black jacket. The lord stopped abruptly to turn back to her with wide-open eyelids. "Why are you here?" the blonde insisted.

Rhysand took a breath to speak, but Luxiana interrupted him by crossing her arms with a stern look. "And don't tell me it's nothing. There's got to be a reason." She suspected he hadn't just come to wake her up, he would have told her otherwise. No, something had happened and she was determined to find out what.

Cassian leaned against the wall beside him, quietly watching the scene unfold before him. He smiled, knowing that Luxiana was about to martyr his two brothers.

Rhysand looked at her tenderly, he couldn't help it. She was so stubborn and reckless. He couldn't lie to her and anyway, he had no other explanation coming to him. "We...," he searched for his words as he lowered his eyes, feeling ashamed. "I wanted to take you somewhere but it's too dangerous after all. I've changed my mind."

Luxiana frowned so hard that it distorted her whole face. She squinted. "Go where?" Then she smirked, "if it's dangerous, I'm in!"

Azriel looked up at the ceiling before casting a reproving look at his soulmate. "Of course," he growled. "That's why we're not going. You're too reckless."

"It doesn't matter anymore, anyway," Rhysand added, shaking his hand toward his brother. "We're not going, that's decided."

Luxiana made a disappointed, whimsical pout. "If you don't want to go because I'd be in danger, don't you think that's for me to decide?"

"That's exactly what I said," Cassian smiled proudly.

"Owwwn," moaned the blonde, turning to Cassian with a tender look on her face. "I knew it, you're the cutest of the three."

Cassian smiled with all his teeth as he puffed out his chest, but Azriel and Rhysand glowered at him.

Luxiana turned back to Rhysand with determination and a little anger. At least, that's what she was trying to let on, because she wasn't really angry. She thought all three of them were cute. "Besides, I don't see why you're worried about me. It can't be that dangerous."

"It is," Azriel articulated, crossing his arms.

"That's for me to decide," she glanced sideways at the master spy before refocusing on the lord. "Where did you want to take me?"

Rhysand, unsure of what to do, glanced at Cassian, who nodded in encouragement, then set his pupils on Azriel, who shook his head from left to right to dissuade him. The lord huffed. “We wanted to take you to see a creature called the Weaver. She's a fae who.... "

"Oh Stryga!?" she exclaimed, interrupting him with a big smile. "Yes, I know," she nodded, waving her hand in the air to urge Rhysand to abbreviate his explanation and resume.

The three Illyrians frowned, casting confused glances at each other. "What do you mean you know?" asked Azriel, staring at her from the side. Cassian straightened up to walk over to Rhysand and get a good look at his soulmate's face.

Luxiana looked up, opening her mouth several times in search of her words. She held back a grimace. She had spoken too fast again, without even thinking about what she was saying. She needed to collect herself now. "I read a lot of books," she shrugged, throwing the shadowsinger a smile, it wasn't a lie after all. "Stryga is the super-powered fae from another dimension exiled to the forest hundreds of years ago, blah, blah, blah, I know my stuff. So what did you want me to do? You wanted me to kill her?"

The three Illyrians raised their eyebrows in surprise, blinking several times at this unexpected statement. But although they found it strange, they didn't suspect it was a lie. In any case, there was no way she could have known the Weaver otherwise.

Cassian blew out a laugh at the last words of his soul mate, who had the most serious face possible. "No, no, I doubt it's even possible to kill her, and even less by you."

"Oh well, I'm pretty sure I can," she asserted in all seriousness, nodding several times.

Azriel caught the bridge of his nose and sighed. Damn it, if she really knew who the Weaver was, how could she think she could kill her? She was so naive.

Rhysand looked at her tenderly. He smiled, shaking his head. "No, we wanted you to go steal something from her."

Luxiana darkened her brows, "Steal what? Why me?" Then she widened her eyes after a moment's thought. "This is some kind of test before summer court to make sure I'll be able to steal the book, right???"

Rhysand let out a little laugh with Cassian. He nodded, trying to hide the mocking glint in his pupils. "That's right, but...," resumed the lord before being interrupted by Luxiana.

"Hihi," she said, shaking both her clenched fists in front of her. She turned in one swift motion, gliding gracefully across the floor as she started to make a dash for her room. "I'm going to get ready."

Azriel had the reflex to catch her by the forearm before she entered her room. His soul mate turned to him to find out what he wanted. "We said no, we're not going. It's much too dangerous for you."

Luxiana turned to glare at the master spy. She crossed her arms. "But if I'm the one who'll be in danger, then that's my decision."

"No, precisely, it's not your decision, since you're not capable of making a reasonable one," Azriel spat dryly. Then he closed his eyes for a second, cursing himself for his tone and words, but Luxiana wasn't even a little intimidated or hurt.

She shrugged with a doubtful grimace. "She's old and blind, certainly no threat to me."

Azriel thought she was so cute, he could have smiled if he hadn't been so worried.

Luxiana anchored pupils glowing with supplication in those of the three Illyrians in turn. "Listen, I just want to prove to you that I can do it. Because I can. Trust me."

Rhysand's heart slammed against his ribs. He couldn't resist his mate’s adorable face. And he didn't want to hurt her when he trusted her. He took a deep breath. "Are you sure about this?" he asked her, because he wasn't sure at all.

"Yes," she assured serenely. "It's my decision, not yours."

"No," Azriel screamed in horror, turning to his brother. "The Weaver could disintegrate her just thinking about it."

Cassian huffed, rolling his eyes. He was worried too, but his brother was abusing them. They were going to protect her and their mate was smart. She wasn't a child. "Stryga won't do it, she has a habit of slowly killing people who infiltrate her home."

"Is that supposed to reassure me?" gasped Azriel with wide eyes. He was almost trembling with fear. He felt like he was going mad. Was he the only reasonable one here?

"She won't be hurt. We'll intervene first," Cassian assured, taking a threatening step towards Azriel, who was beginning to irritate him.

Rhysand breathed imperceptibly before stepping between his two brothers and breaking the distance between himself and his soul mate. He placed his hands on Luxiana's cheeks to cling to her face. He slowly drew his head closer to hers, while she merely looked at him with affectionate eyes and a reassuring smile. He swallowed hard. How could anyone look at someone who approached them like that? She was so sweet.

Luxiana's heart pounded violently in her chest. The high lord approaching her was having quite an effect on her, and when he'd placed his hands on her cheeks, her whole body had begun to tickle. She did everything she could to keep smiling and not look as upset as she was.

Rhysand stopped only inches from his soulmate's lips, zoning in on them for a moment before plunging an intense gaze into the blonde's. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He lowered his eyes for a second. "To tell you the truth, it's an important object for me that you'll have to get back, but if you don't want it, we won't go. You're much more important. If you're feeling even the slightest bit of stress, or any other disturbing emotion, we'll stay here. You don't have to prove anything to us anyway."

"Rhys, I'm not afraid," she assured comfortingly.

But Rhysand's heart had trembled. She'd called him by his nickname. Could he really risk putting her in such danger? What if something unexpected happened? What if something went wrong? It wasn't worth the risk.

Luxiana, almost able to read Rhysand's hesitation in his eyes, let out a small cry of frustration. "There's no point thinking about it any more. Now that I know all this, I'll go to the Weaver with or without you, even if it's years away. So either you stay here, or you come with me."

Rhysand laughed softly as he glanced at Cassian, who nodded to confirm that he suspected Luxiana would. Rhysand lowered his eyes to detail the blonde in his hands for another second. He was worried, but he suspected she'd try. She might even hurt herself trying. Or worse, she might succeed and they wouldn't even be there to defend her. He took a deep breath, then nodded in silent thanks. "She won't be able to see or smell you," he explained, suddenly regaining his seriousness.

"Fuck, Rhys," Azriel tried to interrupt, realizing that his brother was giving in. He put his hand on his lord's shoulder to get his attention, but Rhysand took no notice.

"If you're as quiet as possible, you can go in, steal the object and come out without her even knowing. She won't be able to hurt you."

"Rhys, I said no," Azriel shouted authoritatively, pushing Rhysand, who had to release Luxiana.

Cassian growled as he lashed out at his brother with his pupils. "It's her decision, Az, respect it. And if it's not then go, we'll go without you."

Azriel gave him a look so black that his irises were that color too. The three of them were against him. There was nothing he could do, and it was driving him mad. But there was no way they could go without him. He had to be able to protect his soul mate. He gritted his teeth but said nothing.

Cassian, having realized that his brother was giving up in spite of himself, turned to Luxiana with a confident, serious expression. "We'll be there in case of trouble. She won't hurt you, I'll make sure of that."

"If there's the slightest problem, we'll intervene," continued Rhysand with a reassuring face, but a ball of anguish emerged in his stomach.

Luxiana simply nodded with a broad smile. Then she happily ran to her room to get ready.

A few minutes later, while Azriel was still trying to convince his brothers not to go, and while they weren't even listening to him, Luxiana resurfaced. The three males turned to her and gasped. She was wearing black leather pants, equally dark thigh-high boots, a white shirt under a corset of the same color, and she'd pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "It's great," she raved happily. "All I have to do is ask at the house and she gives me the outfit I want, I love it!"

Cassian rolled his eyes to close them. He raised his head as he turned away from the blonde and ran his hands vigorously over his face. She looked so sexy in that outfit. He wanted to make love to her in this outfit, damn it. He was dying to jump on her, and he didn't know what kind of self-control would stop him, but he was admiring himself.

Rhysand smiled pretentiously as he detailed her with eager pupils. She immediately looked a lot less cute like this. He loved it, but he couldn't help smiling at the irony of the situation. She was so sexy when she was just cute.

Azriel paced all around them. He was so anxious that he only noticed his sister's outfit for a second before he started walking nervously again. Damn, he'd have to make her a suit of armor. She wouldn't be protected enough with this leather.

Then Rhysand finally held out his hand. "Ready?"

She caught him with a confident smile and a strange gleam of coldness in her pupils. "Ready."

Without further ado, the lord teleported them a few steps away from the Weaver's house.

Luxiana spun around, letting go of Rhys, to take in the tall trees and dense vegetation that now surrounded her. She glanced coldly at Stryga's house. The corner of her mouth lifted in a kind of spasm that the Illyrians couldn't see. Then she turned her determined gaze back to the three males in front of her, who were staring at the building with apprehension and even fear for Azriel. "What shall I steal?"

Rhysand turned his violet irises on her and was surprised for a second. She looked serious, her eyebrows slightly furrowed and her eyes cold with determination. The lord lifted his chin, smiling in a corner to give himself a haughty, confident air he didn't have at all. He didn't want to worry her, it was stress that made you make mistakes. "You will know when you see it," he replied simply.

Luxiana frowned, pulling her head back in surprise. "Probably not, no."

Azriel gritted his teeth and took a sharp breath. He glanced sideways at his brother. "Rhys, at least tell her what the object is that she has to steal, so that she spends as little time as possible in this damned shack."

Rhysand didn't even turn to him to answer and remained with his eyes planted in the blonde's. "I'm sure she'll find what she has to steal. You'll feel it."

Luxiana scrutinized him for a second with squinted eyes. Then, as she detailed him, she realized that he seemed really sure that she was going to guess what to steal. And she believed him. Anyway, it wasn't as if she was risking anything. So she nodded once and only once. "All right, I'll trust you."

Cassian took a step closer to his soul mate. He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger to turn the blonde's head towards him and plant an authoritative gaze in hers. He was trying to calm the stress and anguish rising inside him and wanting to make him tremble. "You enter, opening the door as quietly as possible. Walk carefully, taking slow steps. Be careful not to breathe too heavily either, and above all, watch where you step. You absolutely mustn't make any noise! Don't rush," he advised with concern.

"Okay," Luxiana breathed, laughing softly with an expectant face. "You're too cute, but I swear everything's going to be fine. It'll be over in a jiffy." Then she turned to walk in the direction of the house. "I'll be right back."

But fear suddenly exploded in Rhysand, who moved on his own to hold her by the arm. She turned to him. "Are you sure? We can still go away?" he said hastily, dying of worry.

Luxiana huffed and rolled her eyes, a little wearily. If only they knew. But they couldn't suspect anything. So she smiled to comfort him. "It's my decision. I am."

Rhysand let go of her, but before she could get going again, Azriel caught her by the arm and pulled her sharply towards him. "What ag...?" Luxiana couldn't finish her sentence as Azriel turned her around to tighten the strings of her corset and wedge them inside so they wouldn't disturb her or get caught somewhere.

Azriel was scared to death. A mixture of adrenalin and terror coursed through his body, making his muscles feel like they were being torn apart. "You watch yourself and your surroundings," he warned with a cold voice. He turned her around again to face her, crouching for a second to pull a little more at the top of the blonde's boots and make sure they were secure and held in place.

Luxiana watched him with wide-open eyes, completely paralyzed. Her heart was dancing in her chest. No one had ever been so kind to her.

Azriel stood up, "If you're scared or feel something's wrong, you turn back immediately." He grabbed the wide sleeves of his soul mate’s white shirt to fold them a little dryly up to her elbows. "If something happens that we haven't felt or heard, you run. If she attacks you and we're not there, you call us, screaming at the top of your voice to warn us." Then he grabbed the back of the blonde's hand to raise it and present his palm to the sky. He grabbed Truth teller to pull it from its scabbard, twisting it between his fingers to grasp the blade and be able to slide the dagger's handle over his mate’s palm. "If she comes after you and we're not there, you shove this dagger down her throat. It won't kill her, but it'll give you some time, okay?"

Luxiana shifted her pupils between Azriel and the weapon he had just given her, her mouth half-open in astonishment. Then her cheeks flushed in realization. She blinked in search of her words, but found none. She simply nodded, closing her fingers around the handle.

Azriel grabbed her by the shoulders to shake her once and back to accentuate his words. "You really must be as quiet as possible." Luxiana wanted to speak but Azriel cut her off. "Promise me! Promise me you won't do anything inconsiderate or stupid?"

Luxiana finally pulled herself together and managed an affectionate smile. "I promise."

Azriel slowly released her against his will. He had to fight every muscle in his body not to grab her and drag her away.

The blonde stared at the three of them hesitantly and a little wearily, to make sure none of them were going to interrupt her again. But they didn't seem to have anything left to say, and only looked at her with concern. She nodded, tucked the dagger away in her boot and turned, so that at last she could leap happily towards the Weaver's house.

Azriel could feel himself trembling as his soul mate walked to her death. "I swear, if anything happens to her, even a scratch, I'll kill you," he threatened in a nasty voice.

Rhysand's heart missed beat after beat. "If anything happens to her, we'll let you.”

"Damn the ass she's got," Cassian admired with a big grin and twinkling eyes while avidly detailing his soul mate as she walked. He hadn't heard a word his two brothers had just tell. That said, he snapped out of his trance and lost his smile as he felt Azriel's murderous and Rhysand's jaded gaze. "What? We've never seen her in pants before, I profit."

They gave back their attention to Luxiana. From where they stood, between the thick forest trees and a little diagonally from the house, they could see the front door from the side. Their mate stopped in front of it.

"Come on, open it, all. slow.ly," Azriel mumbled, articulating each syllable to encourage the blonde, as if she could hear him.

But... Luxiana raised her foot, gaining momentum with her leg to crush her heel on the wood and smash the door, which opened with a wrenching sound, slamming even louder against the wall that held it.

The three Illyrians gasped, their eyes widening as the sound continued to spread through the trees. "Fuck!" shouted Cassian. Their hearts missed a beat. They started to run towards her, but halfway there, the blonde turned back to them, grinning with all her teeth. "There's no one there," she assured them with a shrug.

The three Illyrians froze in their tracks a few steps from the house. They couldn't see inside, but if the Weaver had been there, she would already have pounced on their soulmate. They couldn't believe it. The three males glanced at each other in confusion.

"She's not here?" exclaimed Cassian in an almost high-pitched voice, bewilderment distorting his features entirely.

Rhysand shook his head, frowning, but his irises were still fixed on the blonde, and his muscles tense, ready to react if Stryga threw himself at Luxiana by surprise. "It's not possible, she can't leave her house." He couldn't believe it.

Azriel's breathing was rapid and noisy. He couldn't breathe. "No, something's wrong. We're leaving!" He took a step forward.

Luxiana prevented him from advancing any further by raising her palm towards him, and against all odds, he stopped. "No, it's all right. And Rhysand can’t come closer. I'll be right back." She infiltrated the house.

Azriel hiccupped almost silently as he saw her enter. He was about to chase after her, but Cassian held him back by the arm. "Wait, let's give her some time. If the Weaver isn't there, she's safe."

"He's right," Rhysand added uncertainly. He shoved his trembling hands into his pockets without taking his eyes off the house. "If she were here, she wouldn't have allowed Luxiana into her house. I don't know how it's possible, but she's certainly not present."

But the weaver was there. She was there. She was standing in her living room, a few steps away from her door. Facing Luxiana. She was far too far from the light of the entrance to be visible to the Illyrians.

She was there. The goddess of death was there, facing Luxiana, but she wasn't moving. In fact, from the outside, you'd have thought she was completely paralyzed, but... her muscles were trembling, her precarious, almost non-existent breathing was shaking her chest spasmodically, and her eyes were widening a little more every second with fright.

Luxiana moved slowly towards her, entering the chalet a little further, making her disappear from the Illyrians' view. But even if they saw her from behind, the three males wouldn't suspect a thing. They couldn't imagine that, from the front, Luxiana's face was cold, haughty, and cruel. They wouldn't even be able to imagine that their soul mate was heading straight to one of the most powerful faes, totally terrorizing her.

The weaver was blind, but when she heard her door being kicked in, she got up from her chair and ran to tear the thief's bones out. Only, she was paralyzed in her step. She had completely frozen in fear. She'd smelled her. She'd smelled that scent she knew so well. The scent she couldn't forget. The scent of cruelty, suffering and death wrapped in a touch of vanilla.

The fae said nothing. She didn't move. She knew it would only make it worse. She was terrified. Why was she there this time? Was she going to kill her? Or was she going to do one of those much worse things she knew so well how to do?

Luxaina walked quietly through the house, circling Stryga with a wry smile as she detailed her up and down like an animal around its prey. Then, remembering that the three Illyrians were waiting for her outside and that she had no time to play, she refocused on observing all the objects around her. She even began to touch and move them with her fingertips, hoping to irritate Stryga a little.

She glanced at her sideways, but her smirk faded. The weaver didn't move. Luxiana was disappointed and made a pout that matched her feelings. She would have liked at least a little challenge, a little action. But apparently, Stryga had learned from her mistakes from last time. Anyway, with the three Illyrians just a few steps away, there wasn't much she could do.

She regained her seriousness and hurried to analyze all the objects. She had to get out of here as quickly as possible before they showed up and wondered why the god of death was terrorized in the middle of her living room. She couldn't see herself explaining.

After a quick but meticulous search, she grabbed the object that attracted her most, then headed for the exit to join the Illyrians, but as she passed by the Weaver, she stopped.

The blonde suddenly stood in front of her and smiled mockingly at Stryga who -sensing the presence of cruelty incarnate before her - flinched. Luxiana moved a little closer to the livid face and lifeless eyes of the Weaver - who was forcing herself not to back down but was still trembling a little more - to stare at her with a hungry smile, tilting her head left and right.

Luxiana held back a laugh. In the end, she preferred it when Stryga greeted her like this. With fear. She deviated her face to reach the Weaver's ear and be able to whisper to her as quietly as possible so that the three Illyrians outside wouldn't hear. "Good girl."

She ignored the brunette's umpteenth startle to turn cheerfully and hop out of the house. She closed the rickety door behind her, smiling a little wider as she heard her host's body fall to its knees in relief at her departure.

Then, she made her way towards the three Illyrians, who took a step forward when they saw her exit. Cassian leaned forward to put his hands on his knees and try not to fall. Azriel trembled, but took a deep breath. Rhysand's heart stilled and his breathing calmed.

"I don't know why, but no one was there," she assured them again, shrugging her shoulders as she came up in front of them. She threw a look at Azriel. She wasn’t lying, after all, no one else was there.

"I don't want to know," said Cassian, moving his eyes frantically in all directions, expecting to see the Weaver emerge from the vegetation to attack them.

Azriel whirled around his mate, looking her up and down to make sure she wasn't hurt. "It's fishy, let's get out of here," he ordered Rhysand.

The lord's eyebrows were furrowed and he looked at Luxiana and the house with confusion. It wasn't normal, but the main thing was that Luxiana wasn't hurt. They had to leave before the Weaver became aware of their presence. Without further ado, he teleported them all into the living room of the Town house.

"Told you it'd be easy," Luxiana smiled happily, putting her fists on her hips. Then she hiccupped as she remembered she still had Azriel's dagger. She leaned forward to grab it and hold it out to him. "Thank you so much, I didn't need it."

Rhysand was completely paralyzed by shock and although he was staring at Luxiana, he couldn't even really see her, too busy thinking about what had just happened.

Cassian ran his hands through his hair, sighing for a very long few seconds. "What the hell was that?" he articulated disbelievingly.

Azriel reacted at last, savagely grabbing his dagger from his soulmate's hands. "Damn it, she didn't do anything we told her to do," he shouted, killing the blonde with his eyes. His face was red under the anger provoked by the memory of the fear he'd felt. "You're completely insane!"

Luxiana winced with agreement as she nodded vigorously. "Because you doubted it until now?"

Azriel shrieked as he swung his dagger into the sofa. He turned to clamp his hands violently over his face as his shoulders rose and fell rapidly with his breathing. He couldn't believe it. How could his soul mate be so reckless and unconscious? She was the most fragile person he'd ever met, yet the one who took the most risks. He was scared to death. He wanted to cry. How was he going to protect her?

"He's right about that one," Cassian exclaimed sternly, crossing his arms to glare at Luxiana. They couldn't hide her temples throbbing with anger. "What possessed you to break down the door?"

"If the weaver had been there...," Rhysand rumbled in his cold high lord voice, unable to stop his shiver of anguish at the prospect of what would have happened. "She would have killed you on the spot. It was unconscious, irreflexive and incredibly stupid."

Azriel turned abruptly toward his soulmate, but when he noticed Luxiana's smirk, her laughing air and her innocently tilted head, his anger redoubled as it exploded in his chest. "This isn't a game, Luxiana! We're talking about your life! We told you to be fucking quiet!"

Luxiana rolled her eyes, sighing exaggeratedly. "At least twenty times, yes."

The three males could hardly breathe because of the anger oppressing them. Rhysand was doing all he could to keep his cool and his mind of steel, but he sensed that Luxiana was going to wear him down. Cassian had to fight with himself not to go and shake his soul mate to set her straight. Azriel broke the distance between him and the blonde, almost sticking to her with a menacing air. "Don't roll your eyes when we're talking about your life and safety! It's important, dammit!" he spat dryly, his voice vibrating with hatred. But Luxiana didn't flinch, just looked down at him with a curious smile and expression. Azriel breathed to speak more calmly. There was no point in shouting at her anyway, but he felt so bad. "You promised me to be careful, aren't promises worth anything to you?"

Luxiana chuckled a cute laugh as she flashed her dimples, "well, technically, I promised not to do anything inconsiderate or stupid, but believe it or not, my door-busting was quite considerate and thoughtful." She crossed her hands behind her back and smiled innocently.

The three Illyrians were speechless. Fear and anguish made them want to vomit, shake and fall. Their soul mate was completely mad and suicidal.

Azriel took a step backwards, shaking his head, unsure of what to do. Then he turned back to his two brothers, pointing at her. "I'm going to lock her in a windowless room and tie her to her bed so she doesn't escape and put herself in danger."

Rhysand forced himself to take deep breaths as he closed his eyes to regain his composure." The important thing is that nothing serious happened and she's fine." He nodded. That was what mattered.

Cassian ran his hands through his hair and over his face, cursing. He glanced back at his mate. "At least tell me it wasn’t all for nothing and that you found the object we wanted."

"Yes, I found it!" she exclaimed happily, jumping up and down as if poised on springs.

The eyes of the three Illyrians, especially Rhysand, began to sparkle.

Then Luxiana put her hand between her breasts, where she had hidden the object, under her corset. She pulled it out to show them with a big smile. "Tada!"

But the three Illyrians lost their expressions and Rhysand's gaze went fade. She had stolen a necklace. A steel chain with a wire holding some kind of small, sparkling violet stone dangling from it. It wasn't her mother's ring. Rhysand touched the stone with his fingertips, not quite believing it.

Cassian closed his eyes and huffed, completely disgusted.

Azriel gritted his teeth as he turned his head. "All of that for this, I don't believe it."

Luxiana frowned, playing innocent. "What?" She slowly lowered the necklace with a startled look, "this isn't the object you wanted, is it?"

Rhysand looked at her for a moment before giving her a gentle smile to reassure her. She looked so worried and sorry. "Don't worry, it's nothing."

Luxiana opened her mouth as she furrowed her brows, adopting a guilty face. "I'm sorry, I had no idea what to look for."

"Of course not, it's not your fault," Cassian tried gently to reassure her.

"It's mine," Rhysand resumed, lowering his eyes. "I should have told you what we were talking about, but... I'd thought..." He had thought that, since she was his soul mate, she would have known it was the ring she was supposed to steal. Anyway, it wasn't as if he needed any more proof that this woman was really meant for him, but he would have liked it. His mother would have wanted her to. "Anyway, it was stupid. Let's forget it."

Luxiana studied them for a moment with half-closed eyelids. They had given her no clues, no answers.

Rhysand, disappointed, was about to turn and leave, but Luxiana retrieved the very first object she'd stolen from her corset and held it out under the noses of the three Illyrians. "I suppose this isn't it either, then?"

All three looked up at her before widening their eyes.

Cassian let out an exclamation of surprise. "So you found it?"

Luxiana was still staring at them with squinted eyes, searching for information in their expressions. "Looks like it."

Rhysand began to bubble with joy and hope and a host of other emotions that could be seen sparkling in his irises.

Azriel looked at her in amazement before smirking. "So you were playing us with that necklace?"

Luxiana returned his smile. "Looks like it," she repeated, shrugging her shoulders with an air that was half provocative and half innocent.

Azriel's smile widened and his eyes sparkled. Oh, she was his soul mate, for sure.

Rhysand raised his hands to grab the ring, but Luxiana moved her arm away, placing it behind her, as far away from the lord as possible.

Rhysand threw her a quizzical expression as he dropped his arms.

Luxiana shook her head sharply. "I'm not giving you this object until you explain how I knew this was what I had to steal." No matter how much Luxiana racked her brain, she couldn't understand why she'd been drawn to that ring and why as soon as she'd seen it she'd known it was the one to retrieve.

"We could take it from you by force," Cassian smirked with a twinkle of amusement in his pupils.

"No you couldn't," Luxiana replied haughtily, wrinkling her nose. "So?" she insisted for answers.

Rhysand smiled confidently without difficulty. He was just so certain now. She had passed her mother's test. It didn't matter if the Weaver hadn't been there, maybe it had even been fate, that Stryga hadn't been there to stop Luxiana getting the ring back. She was his soul mate. She was his wife. "You just knew, that's all."

Luxiana glowered at him. "That doesn't answer my question."

"It'll answer it one day, believe me," laughs Cassian with irises shining with mischief.

Luxiana squinted her eyes to stare at them one by one, trying to understand what they were referring to, then huffed in defeat. Well, for now. Because she was determined to get the answer to her question. "May I at least know why this object is so important to you?"

Rhysand's smile turned wistful and his gaze sad. "That was my mother's engagement ring."

"What?!" gasped Luxiana, dropping her arm limply against her and frowning. "But what was she doing at the Weaver's??"

Rhysand burst out laughing tenderly. "My mother dropped it off by herself to... keep me out of mischief." He searched for words, he had to be vague. "She was afraid I'd rush off and marry someone who... who wouldn't live up to her expectations."

Luxiana first widened her eyes in realization before hiccupping in surprise and then alarm. "And you used me to get it back?!" She clapped Rhysand on the shoulder, making all three of them laugh.

"Yes," he admitted deadpan. "I was convinced you were the right person for the job, and I was right." He leaned forward to catch the ring in Luxiana's hand, but she took a few steps away with an offended expression.

"Then no, certainly not," she refused, shaking her head curtly from left to right and glowering at Rhysand. "There's no way I'm going to be one of the reasons you marry a woman your mother didn't think was up to the job. I'm not going to let you disappoint your mother, I'm telling you. This ring, I'll keep it and you'll have to introduce me to anyone you want to marry, and I'll..." she searched for words, thinking.

The Illyrians glanced at each other with laughter. Cassian held back as best he could to keep from laughing even harder at the irony of the situation. Azriel shook his head, looking tenderly at his soul mate. Rhysand raised a provocative eyebrow to encourage Luxiana to continue.

"You know what? I'd put them through tests!" she exclaimed suddenly as she got the idea. "They'd have to be up to it to marry you, believe me, I'd be a lot worse than your mother or the Weaver." She crossed her arms to glare at Rhysand. "Ah, that'll teach you not to use me again to cheat your mother's goals. I wouldn't let you do that, no."

Cassian burst out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer. He laughed so hard that he leaned forward.

Azriel detailed her in the same way before turning to Rhysand. "Oh I'm sure your mother would have loved her."

Rhysand nodded without taking his eyes off his soulmate. He leaned forward with a smirk but a seductive gleam in his pupils. "You can keep it, Luxiana, this ring is for you anyway."

Luxiana's heart leapt into her throat. She swallowed hard, forcing herself not to back down. She bit her tongue to keep her cheeks from heating up, but it didn't work. Her whole face was probably completely red. "You bastard," she muttered through her teeth, making all three of them burst out laughing.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acomaf #azriel #cassian #rhysand #cassian x oc #acowar #azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #rhysand & cassian & azriel x oc #rhysand x oc #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic

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l0sercat · 3 months ago

Text

MK Character intros with my OC

I know I don't write for OC's but I'm soooo in love with MK right now so. I wanted to write about MK intros with my MK OC! Background of her that is still in the works; Luci is one of Shang Tsung's experiments, he captured her from her house in the middle of the night and during his experiments she grew fox ears and a tail. He was intrigued by this and kept her for now. She has come to terms that she can’t escape him and fell to Stockholm so she is pretty fond of Shang and Shang is pretty fond her as well, in fact he can be pretty possessive. Sometimes she wishes she could go back to her normal life. She was close with Lui Kang, Kung Lao, and Raiden, but seeing that none of them have come to save her she holds some hatred for them. May do a part two of the other characters 😉 Please let me know how this was because I am so nervous posting about my OC because they are very personal to me and I get to self indulge with them. Um so I goofed and my mind had their looks based off MK1 (Except for Raiden and Lui Kang) but the timeline is like MK11 so yeah I'm sorry I'm stupid lol. PT.2 here: x

Shang Tsung: Come now Luci, you know fighting me is pointless, I’ve proven this many time

Luci: I’ve grown tired of being treated like a pet Shang!

Shang Tsung: *Chuckles* C’mon you know you like it

Luci: *points at Shang* Your soul is mine!

Shang Tsung: *laughs and shakes his head* I do not sound like that

Luci: I don't know I think that impression was spot on *puts hands on hips proudly*

Luci: Why did you do this to me!?

Shang Tsung: You simply caught my interest and I needed another test subject

Luci: Why are you so cruel?!

Luci: *Tail fluffs out* You, me, my room, tonight *winks*

Shang Tsung: Oh? What brought out this side of you?

Luci: Guess *shrugs shoulders not so innocently and giggles*

Luci: Can you please stop petting me out of nowhere?

Shang Tsung: Hm, no your too cute when your suprised

Luci: Of fucking course...

Shang Tsung: Stop flirting with everyone Luci... *Glares*

Luci: Make me *Sticks out tongue*

Shang Tsung: Your just trying to make me jealous, yeah?

~~~~~~~~~

Johnny Cage: So do you go into heat or something?

Luci: That is none of your business! *Blushes while her tail spikes out*

Johnny Cage: Imma take that as a yes

Luci: Y’know I used to enjoy your movies..

Johnny Cage: Used to? What the hell happened?!

Luci: I was abducted

Johnny Cage: Here kitty kitty

Luci: I hate you so much right now

Johnny Cage: Don’t lie to yourself babes

Luci: Shang will hurt you for trying to romance me

Johnny Cage: Babe I am not scared of someone like him

Luci: You should be…

Luci: I'm literally one of your biggest fans!

Johnny Cage: *laughs* Do you want me to give you an autograph?

Luci: Yes please! Sign right on my chest!

Johnny Cage: What's cookin good looking?

Luci: *blushes* uh um heh..

Johnny Cage: Yeah I have that affect on people *Brushes off his shoulder*

~~~~~~~~~

Noob Saibot: Stop calling me emo!

Luci: All I said was "Whatever Ayesha said about emo boys‼️"

Noob Saibot: I will make sure to put you in your place...

Luci: Would I technically be a necrophile if I were to fuck you?

Noob Saibot: ...What..

Luci: Don't act so shy now

Luci: So... do you and your clone wanna have a two man with me?

Noob Saibot: What about that sorcerer your with? Won't he be upset about you flirting?

Luci: He can join if y'all want *Tail swishes*

Noob Saibot: Death longs for you and your embrace

Luci: Tell death to wait a few more years

Noob Saibot: I'm afraid I don't have that much more patience

Noob Saibot: Come join me in the darkness Luci~

Luci: If only I could, how 'bout you come join me instead?

Noob Saibot: I do not like sharing much less with some sorcerer

Luci: Shang's not happy that your trying to recruit me into the darkness...

Noob Saibot: What he feels doesn't matter

Luci: Yeah well your not the one he is taking it out on...

~~~~~~~~~

Liu Kang: Luci I'm sorry for what happened

Luci: Shut up and fight me

Liu Kang: I would redo everything if I could

Luci: I just want to know why

Liu Kang: Raiden said not too

Luci: And you listened to him?!

Liu Kang: I miss our friendship so does Kung Lao

Luci: As do I but you betrayed me

Liu Kang: And I will never forgive myself for it

Luci: Just leave me alone Liu I do not wish to speak to you again

Liu Kang: I will never stop until I make things right

Luci: Then prove you are truly sorry

Liu Kang: We should hang out again, I miss your company

Luci: I wish I could say the same about you, I'm more happy with Shang

Liu Kang: Shang has corrupted your mind!

Luci: I wonder if things could've been different

Liu Kang: If they could I would make sure it would happen

Luci: Oh Liu I miss everyone...

~~~~~~~~~

Kung Lao: Come back to us I miss you, we all do

Luci: You should've thought about your actions

Kung Lao: We were just following orders!

Kung Lao: Just let Liu and I take you out like we used too!

Luci: How I will miss our hangouts...

Kung Lao: They don't have to end!

Kung Lao: Leave Shang Tsung and come with me!

Luci: What about Raiden?

Kung Lao: I will make him understand if he doesn't

Luci: Oh Kung Lao can we not fight anymore...

Kung Lao: I'm sorry but you made your bed you must lie in it now

Luci: I was forced into this role!

Luci: Y'know I used to like you

Kung Lao: You mean I had a chance?

Luci: Yeah but you blew it, I prefer people who can actually protect me

Luci: It's a shame we meet in these circumstances

Kung Lao: Agreed I wish things didn't go as they did

Luci: Things will never be the same again

~~~~~~~~~

Raiden: It deeply pains me that things turned out this way

Luci: Everything is your fault, you only have yourself to blame

Raiden: And I accept that and will never let myself forget it

Raiden: Do not give Kung Lao and Liu Kang hope

Luci: Fuck off Raiden you can't control us!

Raiden: I'll make sure you will listen!

Raiden: Please accept my apology I didn't want it to turn out this way..

Luci: You left me to die!

Raiden: I thought you were strong enough to escape!

Luci: I hate you! Go to hell!

Raiden: This will not take back what happened!

Luci: No, but it will make me feel better!

Luci: Just answer me this, why?

Raiden: I...I cannot answer that

Luci: You've disappointed me for the last time

Luci: Could we ever go back to the way things were?

Raiden: No, I wish but the possibility of you being corrupted is too high

Luci: Oh..I see *ears and tail droop*

~~~~~~~~~

~Others mentioning Luci~

Johnny Cage: So you and Luci aren’t a thing right?

Shang Tsung: Don’t even think about going near her!

Johnny Cage: Sheesh don’t get your panties in a twist

Shang Tsung: I heard you tried going after my pet..

Johnny Cage: For one thing she isn’t a pet and also she was soo into it

Shang Tsung: Lies! I will make sure you never look at her again!

Liu Kang: You took Luci away from us!

Shang Tsung: Stop acting like you care, you didn’t even try to rescue her…

Liu Kang: Shut up!

Raiden: The things you've done to her, I'll make sure you will pay!

Shang Tsung: Stop acting like you care for her, I provide her with everything she needs

Raiden: You've forced her into that life!

Liu Kang: Why couldn't we have saved her?

Raiden: I..I have no answer...please forgive me for my mistake

Liu Kang: You have betrayed not only her, but I as well Lord Raiden

Liu Kang: I miss Luci very deeply, I wish we would've rescued her

Kung Lao: If I could go back in time I would ignore Raiden's warning

Liu Kang: As would I, this mistake will forever haunt me

Raiden: Us fighting will not fix what has happened

Kung Lao: Not but it will make me feel better

Raiden: Luci would not want this to happen!

Johnny Cage: I can't believe Luci found you attractive

Kung Lao: I can't believe she found your movies entertaining

Johnny Cage: Cause she knows talent when she sees it

Shang Tsung: Does it break your heart that she now loves me?

Kung Lao: She will never love someone like you!

Shang Tsung: Are you sure about that?

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going-fanfics17 · 10 months ago

Text

assumed ( Woozi * OC )

Summary= people can't see others succeed. They just have to drag everyone down along with them and try to tarnish reputations.

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

The article released by bbc caused a huge stir among Carats, they were furious and rightfully so, their favourite producer had been targeted by brainless journalists who could care less about the truth and were just money hungry. Twisting his words, they accused Woozi of using AI for writing his song lyrics. Completely disregarding his creativity, his passion and his hardwork. It was devastating to see his credit being taken away. And even though the whole Carat fandom was backing him up and tearing down Pledis and BBC for such a ridiculous article, Woozi couldn't help but lock himself in the studio and throw around things in anger.

When Scoups and Jeonghan failed to get him to come out, they called his girlfriend to come to their rescue. She drove down to the studio in 10 minutes. The guys left her alone to give the couple privacy.

"Jihoon-ah, it's me. Please open the door," she said softly.

"No," his voice sounded rough and broken.

"Then I guess I will sit here till you agree to open the door," she said as she plopped down on the floor and took out a packet of chips.

It was silent for half an hour and Y/N could sometimes hear her boyfriend sniffle and sob quietly.

"Do you know how many people think of you as their role model?", she asked .

No answer.

"14 million Carats and other kpop idols as well," she answered.

"Do you know how many people are defending you?"

No answer.

"14 million"

"Jihoon-ah, you only had 1000 korean won and a dream to produce music because you wanted to showcase your creativity and passion to the world. Don't let some bully take away your confidence and discredit you. You have worked hard, spent nights in this studio, starved yourself, to write the best songs. And the boys, the fans and me, we couldn't be more proud. Don't let them take it all away. they have no idea how hard you have worked."

Woozi mumbled something from the other side of the door.

The door opened and he stood there with a tear stained face ,"And Wonwoo's Macbook."

Y/N got up from the floor and hugged him. "You are the best producer who has written and produced 157 songs all on your own without the help of AI. You have the greatest range I have ever seen. You express emotions in your songs, you write songs of all genres. You should be proud of yourself, my love."

"Thank you," he said as Y/N kissed his cheek.

"You know what? Speak up. Clear up things. The evil people need to hear that. They can't just go on twisting your words and assuming things," she said as she went to his desk and picked up his phone and handed it to him.

"You are right. I will stand up to them. They don't have the right to take away my credit," Woozi said determined to prove every hater wrong.

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

Dear BBC ,

Learn how to interpret and not twist the words and accuse real hardworking artists of using AI. You are journalists, it's your job to report the truth and not throw around false accusations. Woozi from Seventeen had worked hard for years to reach where he is today and you guys discrediting him and writing a stupid article where you have deliberately twisted his words to defame him is ridiculous and downright evil.

This is what most artists are afraid of , their creativity and talent not being recognized. You did the exact same today by defaming and discrediting an artist. He has written 157 songs and not one song has been written by using AI. Hope this clears it up. Thank you .

#bbc news #seventeen #seventeen kpop #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x you #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #svt scenarios #svt x reader #seventeen series #woozi x reader #woozi #svt woozi #seventeen woozi #woozi fluff #woozi imagines #lee jihoon

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samovar225 · 3 months ago

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I present to you a new OC! Pokey the cat!

An anthropomorphic female cat, she wears fingerless gloves and has one fang sticking out of her mouth. Her bulky tail allows her to deliver powerful blows to her enemies and is her main weapon. Kind and sympathetic, but also quite hyperactive and hot-tempered, and when it comes to her friends, she definitely becomes a weapon for killing. No romantic interest. Starts conversations with everyone who doesn't attack her.

!CAUTION! Lots of text and not so well-developed drawings

Interactions!

Peppino

They both considered each other as enemies, although in fact they were "on the same side". Peppino crashed into Pokey, who was just resting on one of the levels, considering Peppino as an enemy. Pokey attacked him, and Peppino also considered Pokey as an enemy, in the battle they shouted different phrases, and at some point they realized that they were definitely not enemies to each other, mutually apologized and went on to fight together Back 2 Back

Gustavo and the Brick

They have lunch together. Pockey knows, they're cool guys.

Mr Stick

She's a little afraid of him, because she doesn't know that she have to... pay for boss fights? Ugh. She'll just find some loopholes.

Pepperman

Pepper was not really told who should attack the tower, so without thinking he attacked Pokey, who, however, Pokey beat his already red ass

The Vigilante

She was REALLY scared of having to attack someone with a gun, although she somehow managed to defeat Cheese Cowboy.

The Noise

In fact, Pokey didn't fight him, because she met Peppino before she managed to fight Noise, but he didn't try to harm her, so they had a pretty good conversation.

Noisette

Pokey stumbled upon her cafe and goes there after every battle and talks to the cafe owner.

Fake Peppino

She just thought that Peppino forgot their fight and conversation, and so she fought desperately with his copy as well, well.. Oh shit, here we go again

Pizzaface

He scares her, and she would also be glad to kick his ass for fooling her.

Pizzahead

Same thing, she's ready to scratch his whole stupid cheese face for lying.(Will be described below)

A little history:

Pokey was helping her fisherman uncle, who had forgotten his bait at home, when a large black hole appeared under her paws, into which she, of course, fell and ended up in the world of Pizza Tower.

Pokey woke up a couple of minutes later, but immediately realized that something was wrong, however... she was used to things happening to her... so she calmly looked around and tried to figure out where she was.

While Pokey was sitting and thinking, Pizzaface flew up to her and seriously scared her. He told Pokey that her best friend Guts was imprisoned in the tower and if she didn't find herself on top of the tower in 3 days, then Guts and they would remain in this world forever, after that she got into the Pizza Tower. (In fact, Guts wasn't there.)

Phew... I suffered over this post for 3 days and 3 nights! (almost, in fact 2 days and 2 nights, but no big deal.)

Sorry for any grammatical or punctuation errors if you found them and also for any possible unclear expressions, I apologize very much!

I would be very glad if you helped to promote it, and thank you, even if you just paid attention, know that I am very grateful to you!

Plus I want to add that I will soon open an ask for Pokey (as soon as I pay off all my debts)

#pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #pizzahead #pepperman #vigilante pizza tower #mr stick #gustavo pizza tower #brick pizza tower #gustavo and brick #the noise pizza tower #noisette pizza tower #pizzaface pizza tower #fake peppino #pizza tower oc #pokey the cat

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simplydannie · 9 months ago

Note

Haii pooks!

I know your busy, but when you get the chance, Fanfic about when Veneer and Neena first met? Maybe Nate cameo at the end 🫶🏼

Baii :3

Haii!

Okay so here ya go!

A little context first:

Neena was an OC created WAY before my Under Rageous AU. So this story will not be taking part in that storyline and is completely separate 😊 She was created because I was curious how a HOH character would interact in this kind of world. Also being a V and V fan, my OC befriends them and actually knows them before their fame journey. Her and Veneer had a hard time making friends throughout high school but found each other and became the bestest of friends. Later Veneer would introduce her to Velvet whom she’d befriend as well. Her main form of communication for someone who doesn’t know sign language (like Veneer) is through a notebook which she carries with her everywhere.

A small cameo by @justnat3 OC!

Both drawings for the cover art were done by @skydiverdrawings!

Enjoy!

High school.

This was it.

Elementary school…bust. Middle school…bust. High school was going to be his time to shine…

Velvet and Veneer didn’t want to make a big deal when driving up to their new high school. Instead of the limo, they rode in a black SUV, their Bergen driver up front with his sunglasses up.

“You really think they won't make a big deal out of this?” He asked his sister as he adjusted his beanie.

“Really? This is high school and you're still wearing that stupid thing?”

“What? It was dad’s, it’s my favorite, AND I think it looks good on me.”

”Whatever you say bro…”

Velvet and Veneer Montegue. Their name rang throughout all of Mount Rageous as their father was a renowned businessman and CEO, in charge and overseeing all power industries in the city…basically everything that ran Mount Rageous from the ground up. Since grade school, EVERYONE knew. What made it worse, at least in Veneer’s eyes, was that it was hard for them to make any friends… The most powerful man in Mount Rageous, had the most lonesome children around.

The twins had spent elementary and middle school only amongst themselves. Veneer was the target of bullying, and his sister, well, his personal bodyguard. No one would hang out with her because of how afraid they were. No one wanted to be his friend because well, he was just different, at least in their eyes…

“...People just don’t know how to accept those that are different.” His mother told him one day. He had come home bruised by the beating of the kids at school.

So, all that time, it was always him and Velvet against the world…

“No more playing nice.” Their father had told them as the twins lay in bed one night. He took their face in each of his hands, “They don't like it when you’re nice. Fine. If they want hell, then give them hell.”

”Daddy! You said a no-no word!” Veneer gasped, placing his hand over his mouth.

Vaughn smiled, “Think of it as a motivational word….just don’t tell your mother.”

The twins giggled…

Veneer planned for high school to be his moment to shine…for both him and his sister… This was it. He was going to make friends! He was going to make the yearbook with something more positive on it!

The SUV finally pulled up to the entrance of the school. Both twins grabbed their bags.

“If they want hell…” The Bergen began to say.

“Then give them hell.” The twins replied in unison. They smiled after getting out of the car…The motto their father taught them. There they stood staring at the entrance of Rageous High…

“Ready.” Velvet said.

“No. Not really.”

“Good enough. Let’s do this!”

It has been three months since that day…

….And Veneer had yet to make any friends…

His sister on the other hand was flourishing. She had a whole group of friends now. Velvet would continuously invite him to sit with her during lunch, to hang out with them after school…but Veneer refused. He’d make an excuse; he didn’t want her to worry…For one, when his sister wasn’t around, they would bully him, but they were her friends, so he’d never tell her…He knew she’d choose him over them and he wanted her to have the best high school experience ever. She deserved it after all those years she spent being friendless because of him. He’d even lie to his parents.

“So…How was school today?” Their father asked. Velvet would beam at the time she was having, showing their parents the pictures she took with her and her friends. Veneer could see the relief and happiness in his parents…So when it came for him to speak…he lied.

“Yeah. There are guys from my science class and art class…We sit together at lunch and just kinda have fun.”

“Where do you sit? I never see you.” Velvet declared.

“We rotate. We mainly like to sit outside.” Veneer lied again.

“That's wonderful sweetheart! You are more than welcome to invite them over! Both of you.” Vivian smiled.

“...Well…They wont cause trouble will they?” Vaughn asked.

“Chill dad. You know I'd set them straight if they caused trouble.” Velvet smirked.

“That’s my girl.”.....

…Veneer walked down the hall towards his locker, his head hanging low, hopefully he’d be left alone, hopefully no one would look his way. He made it to his locker only to see the words “moron” written across it.

“Typical.” He sighed, opening his locker.

“Do you need something to clean that with?” He heard a voice call to him. He turned around to see a pale, light- blue haired Rageon standing behind him. He knew him, Veneer remembered, he had him in English class…Nate his name was.

“No…I’ll just clean it later.” Veneer said with a heavy sigh as he grabbed his books.

“….Don’t let them get to you.” The boy smiled, “See you later.”

Veneer waved. Nate was kind, but the people he hung out with weren’t so. He knew what they thought about him, so Veneer never bothered…better to be safe and alone…

Right now his focus was just to make it to science in one piece. A few boys walked by shoving him hard against the lockers.

BANG!

His head collided with the door.

“Freak.” He heard them mumble, giggling as they walked away. Veneer waited till they were out of ear shot.

”Idiots.” He mumbled as he fixed his beanie. Grabbing his books, he closed his locker and ran off to class….

A Rageon girl sat on a chair at the front office, her mother inside discussing something with the principal. The girl had light, pinkish skin with medium length magenta hair. Her feet dangled as she waited…Today was her first day here at Rageous High. Her heart pounded. Would the kids be nicer here than the other schools? Would they have accommodations for her here? She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. She felt a let tap on her leg, looking up, the girl saw her mother had walked out of the office…The girl adjusted her hearing aid.

”Read for your first day, Neena?” Her mother signed.

“No, I’m nervous. What if they’re mean here too?” Neena signed in return.

“…We have to try. You are strong, brave, and beautiful. Perhaps that one friend will be here waiting for you.”

Neena took a deep breath, “Okay.” She signed with her hands. Her mother bid her farewell as she was shown to her first class…science.

Veneer sat in the back. Out of sight, out of mind, he would tell himself. Today they were to work on some experimentation. Of course the others grouped up, leaving him to himself. He was intrigued in his project, writing down notes when he heard the door of the classroom open. Veneer looked up to see the principal walk in with a Rageon girl at her heel. Veneer had never seen her before, he was sure of it. Was she new?

The teacher signaled her to take a seat in the empty desk in the back. Everyone studied her as she walked, particularly the guys, smirking and smiling at each other.

“Pigs.” Veneer murmured.

She glanced around the classroom with a smile…a little cheerful she seemed to be. Looking at the others, she mimicked their actions as she took out her science book. Confused, she looked around the classroom to see where she could get the supplies for the experiment.

“Okay, Vennie, you can do this…make a friend, make a friend.” He was about to stand up when he saw a group of girls head her way already, “…Nevermind.”

“Hey new girl! Listen we’re going to do you a favor, not everyone in this school is cool.” She coughed and nudged her head towards Veneer.

“….Bitch…” He mumbled under his breath. The new girl stared at the clique in front of her then towards Veneer, she smiled. Flustered he looked away. Great, she’s going to think I’m weird to.

“So as a favor, I’ll let you join our group so you don’t embarrass yourself the first day. How’s that?” The girl smiled….

….Neena saw the lips of the girl moving in front of her, but couldn’t comprehend what she was saying. Nothing but mumbles were escaping the girl's mouth. She saw her signal to a green haired boy sitting towards the back. Neena naturally turned and smiled at him only for him to look away. The girl continued to speak, that much she knew…but Neena couldn’t hear what she was saying…The girl stopped talking, staring at Neena with a smile. Oh no! She must have asked me something! Neena quickly dug through her backpack to look for her pen and notebook, tucking her hair behind her ear…that’s when the other girl saw it…her hearing aid.

“Oh…You’re one of those…Ummm…” The girl said. Neena brought out her notebook and pencil, handing it to the girl with a smile. The girl grimaced.

“…W-w-writtte…” Neena attempted to say, but it must have come out too loud and sounded odd as others in the class turned to face her way. Neena had her mother teach her to try and say some words, especially the word “write”. But being deaf, Neena didn’t know whether she was saying right…or too loud.

“No. Sorry…Nevermind actually.” The girl waved Neena off and walked away… Not, again, Neena thought.

Veneer saw the whole thing happen, he heard the girl utter the word “write” a little too loudly and rather awkwardly. The girl and her clique walked off leaving the new girl with a sad look on her face. Out of all people, he knew what it felt like to be left hanging…

Okay, now is my chance, he stood up from his desk and walked over to her. When he approached her he could see the tears beginning to fall from her face. She quickly wiped it away when she looked up to see him. She gave him a small smile waiting for him to proceed.

You, got this…You got this….

“Hi,ImVeneer, woudyouliketobemypartner!” The words came rolling out like an avalanche, one after the other…word vomit. Crap!

Neena stared at the boy in front of her. He seemed shy yet kind. She saw his lips move ever so quickly, then stopped. Wait? Was he done talking? Did he even say anything? Neena couldn’t make out what he had just told her. It must have taken her a moment too long to answer because she saw his smile drop from his face. Oh no! I ruined it again! She thought to herself. As he began to walk away, she instantly reached up to grab his arm to keep him from leaving. She saw the look of confusion on his face and quickly withdrew. She signaled him to wait as she began to write something down in her notebook.

Veneer cocked his head to the side as she scribbled away. She gave him the notebook and pen with a smile on her face. Taking it in his hands, he looked down to read it…

Hi! I’m Neena. I’m deaf, so I don’t know what you were asking me :( Can you please write it here? If you want.

He looked at her…She seemed to have a hopeful glint in her eyes…Maybe she was like him…Looking for a friend… just someone who would understand her too…He smiled. Taking the pen, he began writing in her notebook…He slid it back to her.

Hi Neena! I’m Veneer. I’m sorry. I word-vomited, that tends to happen when I get nervous. Would you like to be my partner for this project?

Neena read his note, looking at him with a wide smile on her face, she nodded.

“Oh! Um, okay! Give me one moment.” He signaled her as he ran over to his desk to gather his things, moving next to her. Neena kept the notebook in between them so they could write back and forth to each other to communicate…

Do you sign? She had written. A look of genuine confusion crossed his face.

Sign like autographs? He wrote. This caused a giggle to escape Neena’s lips. She shook her head. Instead of writing, she made signals with her hands.

“Oh!! You mean sign language!” He said aloud. She saw the movement of his lips and understood what he had said.

“Yes.” She signed, “Sign language.”

“No.” He shook his head. Neena smiled taking the notebook in her hands once again.

It’s okay! I’ll show you! If you want?

He smiled towards her, “Okay!”

At the end of the day, Neena got into her mothers car…a smile on her face.

“You seem happy. Did everything go okay today sweetie?” Her mother signed.

“Yes.”

“Do you think you’ll like it here?”

Neena looked down at her notebook. For the first time it was filled with notes and silly doodles from a friend…A FRIEND!…. Something she had waited so long for.

“Yes. It’s going to be fun!” She signed.

Veneer waited for his sister out front, a smile on his face…

“What’s with the goofy grin?” She asked as she approached him.

“Vels!” he jumped a little too happily. “I finally made a friend!!”

“...Wait…what do you mean finally…What about those guys you talked about from art and science?” She said.

“......Uuuhhhh….”

“You little liar! So all these months you lied to me about making friends! You lied to mom and dad too!”

“I just didn’t want you guys to worry! You seemed so happy with your group and mom and dad seemed so proud when you finally told them.”

“Gosh Veneer! You’re horrible!” She sighed, taking in a deep breath, “Whatever….who is this new friend…If you’re even telling the truth.”

“I am!! She’s a new girl at school! I have her for my science, gym, math, and art class! Her name is Neena…she’s deaf. Some girls were already giving her a hard time..”

Velvet looked at him. He was always one to sympathize with people who had a hard time making friends, with people who would get bullied…

“So she doesn’t know what a complete weirdo you are yet?” She teased.

“Yeah!!...Wait…” He paused, finally realizing what she had said, “Oh, you’re cruel.”

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tentakilly · 7 months ago

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Unpopular opinion but the SCP community thinks so objectively(as in one way) that a subjective(as in creative) explanation is immediately disliked or hated because it isn’t the normal sci-fi jargon.

(Rant/vent)

For being an extremely talented community of authors and artists and for being the world’s biggest collaborative writing project this community really, really hates a creative idea or observation that doesn’t fit a pre established cannon(just classic its always just classic).

A couple years ago on the SCP subreddit there was a kid asking how reality bending works there was over a hundred comments explaining the sci-fi world building and the op repeatedly responded to those comments with confusion they just kept explaining. When a commenter came in and explained it like it was an artstyle that comment and the ops comment thanking the commenter for helping them understand were downvoted into hell. You had to sort by controversial to find it.

A while back there was a post about how they didn’t understand SCP-3999 and wanted a little bit more explanation. All of the notes were filled with people explaining there hatred for the story and why it was bad. When the op kept asking for why the hate I other than it wasn’t scary they got shat on for it.

A while back on an old now dead account I commented on an SCP power scale meme(making fun of power scaling) that we could have them try and scale Darling Pink(and actual scp) because magical girls are allways a power scaler’s weakness(an actual problem in power scaling communitys). This joke was met with so many people going like “you can’t do that 682 solos” in a non joking way.

Speaking of 682 someone a while back said that there headcannon for it was that it was a thought experiment and that comment was met with so many people going “wrong 682 is an actual creature”.

One time there was a conversation about how there was this really good tale(forgot wich one) but a lot of people didn’t finish it because it was really long and wasn’t the kind of story they enjoyed. That conversation was met with “just finish it” and “if you don’t like it/understand it just read it better”.

Would you believe me if I said that all those examples came from my experience. This god damn “community” nearly killed my passion for art and writing on several occasions because I thought differently than everyone else.

Just like I’m belittled and looked down upon irl I’m mocked for thinking differently here no matter the site. It’s been like this since I joined the community at 10. No one bothered to ask if the questions came from an insecure child and mocked her relentlessly. Telling her, her art was bad and wouldn’t improve. Telling her she didn’t deserve to have her art seen by the world.

To this day I’m scared of posting officially on the wiki dot because i know my art and stories will get mocked relentlessly because they’re different. Because they’re mine. Because they’re a part of me. You guys nearly killed apart of me because you couldn’t handle a very obvious child’s questions about the story and world you built together. Because a child was looking for a place to hide from the world that was hurting her and you failed her and made her actively scared of participating in a community that’s supposed to be collaborative. The community that raised her.

My oc Toby Miller. I’ve posted about him only once compared to the rest of my SCP ocs and that’s because he’s so deeply connected to my struggles of being understood that I’m afraid of taking about him despite him being the main character because he will be called stupid. He will be mocked for being different than all the other official characters. He will be belittled and be nothing more than a dumb kids oc.

Yall can’t look beyond a surface level understanding and when people’s interpretations of a story vary vastly you get mad and kill there want to participate. It sucks.

#scp #scp foundation #rant post #vent post

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idaisyy · 2 months ago

Text

Tag , you’re in - a cmpunk x oc enimies to lovers

-chapter 49

As they got on the road, Daisy's stomach growled loudly, and Punk raised an eyebrow at her.

"Jesus, you starving or something?"

"Kinda," Daisy admitted, glancing at the clock. "We should stop somewhere. I need actual food, not just gas station snacks."

Punk grumbled, but he wasn't about to argue—his stomach was empty too. "Fine. There's a diner up ahead. That work?"

A few minutes later, they pulled into a small, old-school diner with neon signs flickering in the windows. It wasn't anything fancy, just the kind of place you stopped at in the middle of a long drive.

As soon as they sat down in a booth, Daisy looked around, then gasped dramatically.

"Oh my God."

Punk, who had just picked up the menu, gave her a look. "What?"

She grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. "This is our first date."

Punk scoffed. "What? No, it's not."

"Yes, it is!" Daisy leaned across the table. "Think about it. We're out at a restaurant, just the two of us, getting dinner. That's a date, Punk."

He shook his head, smirking. "It's food. We're eating food. That's not a date, that's survival."

"No, no, this totally counts." Daisy sat back, folding her arms. "I can't believe our first date is at some random-ass diner off the highway."

Punk rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his amused smile. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're in denial," she shot back.

The waitress came over before Punk could argue, asking for their order. After they both got burgers and fries, Daisy kept the teasing going.

"Wow, my first date with CM Punk," she mused, pretending to be in awe. "Didn't think it would happen at a place with sticky menus, but hey, I'll take what I can get."

Punk laughed, shaking his head. "You're really running with this, huh?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, picking up a fry from the basket on the table. "I'll even let you pay since you're the guy. Real old-fashioned, you know?"

"Yeah, right," Punk scoffed. "You're paying. Consider it payback for making me sit through that stupid quiz today."

Daisy grinned. "Oh, come on. You loved that quiz."

Punk leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. His voice dropped just a little, teasing but steady. "I loved proving you wrong."

Daisy felt her breath hitch for half a second.

They stared at each other for a beat too long, and suddenly, the joke didn't feel like such a joke anymore.

But before she could respond, their food arrived, and Punk smirked, picking up his burger like nothing happened.

Daisy shook her head, exhaling. "Fine. If you're not calling this a date, then I guess that means I get to pick where our real first date is."

Punk just raised an eyebrow. "Who said there was gonna be one?"

Daisy smirked right back. "You didn't say no."

Punk chuckled, shaking his head again as they dug into their food.

Maybe this wasn't technically a date.

But it sure as hell felt like one.

Daisy excused herself to go to the bathroom, half because she needed to pee and the other half because she needed to let out all the butterflies she was feeling

Daisy pushed open the bathroom door, still drying her hands on a napkin, only to stop short when she saw Punk standing there, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed.

She blinked. "Uh... what are you doing?"

Punk shrugged. "Waiting for you."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Like I'm a damn child who can't find my way back to the table?"

"Well, you do get distracted easily," he teased, smirking. "Figured you might wander off, start making friends with the kitchen staff or something."

Daisy rolled her eyes, stuffing the napkin into her pocket. "Please. I was gone for, like, two minutes. You afraid I ditched you or something?"

Punk scoffed. "Yeah, because I'd be devastated if you left me to eat in peace."

Daisy gave him a playful shove as she walked past him. "Then why were you waiting?"

Punk followed her back toward their booth, shrugging like it was nothing. "Just makin' sure nobody tried anything."

That made her pause for half a second. "You think someone's gonna jump me in a diner bathroom?"

"You never know," Punk said, and while his tone was casual, there was something underlying it—something protective.

Daisy glanced up at him, the teasing edge in her voice softening. "That's kinda sweet."

Punk made a face. "Take that back."

She grinned. "Nope, too late. You care about me."

"I do not."

"You so do."

Punk rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath as they slid back into their seats.

Daisy smirked, picking up her drink. "I mean, first you pay attention to everything about me, then you call me your girl on live TV, and now you're waiting outside the bathroom for me? You're, like, one step away from carrying my purse while I shop."

"Okay, now you're pushing it."

She giggled, stirring her straw around in her drink. "I dunno, Punk. Kinda seems like you're my boyfriend now."

Punk huffed, grabbing a fry off his plate and popping it into his mouth. "Jesus Christ."

Daisy just grinned, fully enjoying watching him squirm.

The waiter dropped the check on the table, and before Daisy could even reach for it, Punk was already sliding his card on top.

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so now you're paying?" She pulled her wallet out anyway. "I thought you said I had to pay since this wasn't a date."

Punk shot her a look, amused but slightly exasperated. "You really thought I was for real about making you pay?"

Daisy narrowed her eyes. "I dunno, you say a lot of asshole things and mean, like... 70% of them."

Punk smirked. "Good thing this is part of the 30% then."

She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. "So what, now you are calling it a date?"

Punk shrugged, acting nonchalant. "Call it whatever you want, princess. Either way, I'm not letting you pay."

Daisy squinted at him. "You really don't want to admit this is a date, huh?"

"Nope," Punk said, popping another fry into his mouth. "But nice try."

Daisy huffed but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. Even if he wouldn't say it, she knew the truth—Punk wasn't just being nice. He was taking care of her. And honestly? That meant more than some corny label ever could.

Once they are back on the road , Daisy hadn't let 10 mins go by without letting out one form or another of a complaint about how badly her feet were hurting her

Daisy let out another dramatic sigh, stretching her legs out as she slumped in her seat. "God, my feet are killing me."

Punk gripped the steering wheel tighter, already annoyed. "Jesus, you don't shut up, do you?"

"No, I don't," Daisy shot back, rubbing her foot against her other leg, trying to ease the ache. "Seriously, I think I'm dying."

Punk rolled his eyes. "You're not dying, you're just annoying."

"Well, my feet feel like they're falling off, so maybe I am."

Punk groaned, shaking his head as he kept his eyes on the road. "God, you're such a pain in my ass." But then, before she could even process what was happening, he reached over, grabbed her ankles, and pulled her feet into his lap.

Daisy blinked in shock. "What are you—"

Punk didn't say a word, just started rubbing his thumbs into the arch of her foot, kneading out the tension.

Her mouth snapped shut. He was... actually good at this. His hands were rough, strong, but somehow, his touch was firm and careful at the same time.

She melted back against the seat. "Oh my god."

Punk smirked, still focused on the road. "That shut you up real quick."

Daisy groaned as he pressed into a particularly sore spot. "Shut up, I'm having a moment."

Punk chuckled but kept working on her feet, and Daisy, for once, actually let herself enjoy it.

At some point, the exhaustion caught up to Daisy, and between the steady motion of the car and Punk's surprisingly skilled hands, she drifted off.

She didn't know how long she'd been asleep, but what woke her wasn't the car stopping—it was something soft against her skin. Warm. A little rough.

She stirred, blinking her eyes open, and felt a press of lips against her ankle.

"Wake up, princess. We're at the hotel."

Daisy's heart stuttered in her chest. She lifted her head groggily, staring down at him. He was still in the driver's seat, one hand lazily resting on the wheel while the other held her foot in his lap. His lips hovered close, and when he noticed her watching, he smirked.

"You drool every time you sleep, by the way," he added, smug as ever.

Daisy groaned, covering her face. "Shut up."

Punk chuckled, giving her ankle one last squeeze before finally letting her go. "C'mon, let's get inside before you pass out again."

Daisy sat up, still feeling the ghost of his lips on her skin. She wasn't sure what was happening between them anymore, but she didn't have the energy to figure it out right now. All she knew was that Punk had just kissed her, in the softest way possible, and she had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

As soon as they got into the hotel room, Punk kicked the door shut behind them and grabbed Daisy's wrist, spinning her around and pinning her against the wall. His hands were already roaming over her body, his breath hot against her ear.

"You have no idea how bad I want you right now," he muttered, his voice rough and strained.

Daisy let out a breathless laugh. "Punk—"

"No, seriously," he interrupted, pulling back just enough to look at her. His pupils were blown wide with hunger. "I've been thinking about you for the last two hours while you were knocked out in the car. Couldn't stop picturing you in my lap, riding me like you did last night."

Her stomach flipped at his words, heat creeping up her neck. But before she could respond, he was kissing her again, his hands gripping her hips, pressing her tighter against him.

She managed to push him back slightly, her fingers resting on his chest. "We can't."

Punk's brow furrowed, his jaw clenching. "What do you mean, we can't?"

She hesitated for a second before sighing. "I'm on my period."

For a moment, Punk just stared at her. Then, without missing a beat, he scoffed. "And? You think I care about that?"

Daisy blinked. "What?"

He exhaled, tilting his head at her like she'd just said something ridiculous. "Daisy, I'm a grown man. A little blood isn't an issue for me."

She couldn't help but laugh. "Punk, we're both 26. You say that like you're so much older."

He rolled his eyes. "That's not the point. The point is, if you're okay with it, I still want you. Bad."

Daisy bit her lip, considering. She knew Punk wasn't the type to say things just to say them—if he meant this, he meant it. And the way he was looking at her right now, like he was barely holding himself together, made her stomach twist in the best way.

"You're serious?" she asked, searching his face.

Punk smirked, leaning in to whisper against her lips. "Why don't you let me show you?"

#cm punk #cm punk smut #enimies to lovers #slow burn #wwe imagine #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #wwe smut #seth rollins smut #wwe gifs #cm punk imagine #wweedit

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lura-valentine · 4 months ago

Text

Hintes

This fanfiction was created before I knew what exactly I wanted to do with my OC Rain

➡️ click her for Rain's Profil ⬅️

+16 Content

With the exception of Rain, all characters belong to Kōhei Horikoshi

Please note that English is not my first language. So forgive me for mistakes.

Trigger Warning

This is about a near-rape. The dilemma of my OFC is described, but it does not come to a rape.

Don't touch her

The bar was dark and smoky, a place where one could easily hide in the shadows. The room was dimly lit, the light casting long shadows that enveloped the corners of the room in darkness. Rain sat on one of the high bar stools, her red eyes sparkling in the dim light as she twirled a glass of a dark amber drink in her hand. Her black hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders and her wings were drawn close to her back, like a bird of prey ready to strike at a moment's notice.

Shigaraki sat across from her, his pale skin and the eerie hand on his face standing out against the darkness. He seemed restless, his fingers twitching nervously and scratching lightly on the counter, testifying to his tension. His red eyes, cold and unpredictable, sought Rain's gaze, but she stubbornly looked away.

"We have no choice," Shigaraki finally said, his voice sharp and tense. "The city offers us the perfect location. No one will look for us under a bridge, and the heroes..." He made a dismissive gesture with his hand as if it were nothing, "...are too stupid to suspect us there."

Rain slammed the glass down on the counter, a soft clink echoing through the room. "Too close to the hero agencies," she answered with icy calm. Her eyes flashed dangerously as she turned to him. "You know full well that we cannot afford that risk."

"A risk?" Shigaraki laughed mockingly, a cold, hollow sound. "Risks are what we take every day. You're not usually this scared, Rain. Are you afraid you're not strong enough?"

Rain narrowed her eyes and hissed as she felt the anger rising within her. "This has nothing to do with fear, Shigaraki," she replied, her voice quieter now but full of venom. "It's about strategy. If we operate too close to the heroes, we give them a chance to find us. And I will not allow all our efforts to be ruined because of your recklessness."

"Recklessness?" He leaned forward and clenched his hands into fists, pressing them tightly against the counter. "You don't understand what's at stake here, Rain. We need this hideout and we need it now. If you're not going to accept that, then..."

"And then?" Rain jumped up from her chair, spreading her wings slightly as she stood to her full height. "Are you going to force me? Send me into this trap against my will?" Her voice was now a dangerous mix of anger and wounded pride.

Twice, who had been sitting in the corner of the room and listening in silence, twitched nervously. "Hey, hey, guys, calm down," he tried to mediate with his hands raised. "We shouldn't argue, we're a team, right?"

But neither Rain nor Shigaraki paid him any attention. The tension between them was palpable as they stared at each other, neither of them willing to give in.

"It's not about forcing you," Shigaraki said finally, his voice colder now, more distant. "It's about you understanding that I'm the one who makes the decisions. And you..." He paused, his words heavy as lead. "...you have to follow them."

Rain felt the anger rising in her chest, hot like the dark red flames burning deep within her. "You..." She narrowed her eyes, her feathers beginning to quiver slightly as if they could burst into flames at any moment. "You're not the only one making decisions here and who has something to lose."

Shigaraki remained silent, staring at her with narrowed eyes. For a moment, it seemed as if he was going to say something, but then he just shook his head slowly, as if trying to shake off an invisible burden.

"I've had enough," Rain said suddenly, her voice sharp and determined. She turned and flapped her wings slightly as she headed for the door. "If you're so stubborn, do it alone, but don't expect me to follow you to your doom."

Kurogiri, who had been standing behind the bar and quietly watching the proceedings, stepped forward. "Rain, please..." he began in his deep, calm voice, but Rain just raised his hand to silence him.

"Not now, Kurogiri," she said without turning around. Her hand was already on the door, which she yanked open with a violent jerk. "Not now."

With one last angry look at Shigaraki, she disappeared into the darkness of the night, the door slamming behind her with a loud bang.

The silence that followed was oppressive. Shigaraki sat motionless, his eyes staring at the door through which Rain had disappeared, but a storm raged in his head.

"That was...not good," Twice muttered, looking cautiously over at Shigaraki, who was still motionless. Himiko, who had been sitting at the counter playing with a small knife, looked up and shrugged. "Couples argue. It's normal, right?"

But Kurogiri knew better. He approached Shigaraki, his dark figure almost protective as he placed his hand on his shoulder. "You know she's not just speaking for herself, Tomura. She's thinking about the whole thing. Maybe you should too."

Shigaraki blinked as if he had woken up from a dream and slowly turned his head to look at Kurogiri. "You mean I should give in?"

"Don't give in," Kurogiri corrected gently. "Listen. Sometimes leadership isn't about stubbornly imposing your own will, but about acknowledging the wisdom of others. Rain isn't your enemy. She is..."

"My comrade and... friend," Shigaraki interrupted, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. "Yes, I know that. But she... she makes it so damn hard for me."

"Because it challenges you," Kurogiri said with a hint of a smile in his voice. "And that's something you need."

Shigaraki sighed deeply and then stood up. "I'm going to her."

"That's a good decision," Kurogiri said as he watched Shigaraki walk toward the door. "Maybe... this time you'll talk less and listen more."

Shigaraki nodded briefly without turning around, then stepped out the door into the night to look for Rain. The street in front of him was silent and deserted. The lanterns cast a faint light on the cobblestones that disappeared into the darkness. Only occasionally a shadow would dart across the street, a stray hiding in the corners or a cat looking for food. The city seemed deserted, and the threatening rain clouds moving across the sky added to the oppressive atmosphere.

He paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and looked out over the street. The silence was almost deafening, except for the faint rustle of the wind blowing through the alleys. He could see Rain nowhere, no sign of her, only the loneliness echoing in the night. A low growl escaped his throat as he shoved his hands in his pockets and slowly walked down the street.

"If someone had told me that a relationship could be so stressful..." he muttered to himself, a hint of cynicism in his words. "I would never have agreed to it."

But now it was too late. She was more than just an ally, she was his friend, a part of him that he couldn't easily shake off even if he wanted to. The thought of losing her sent a wave of unease through him, a fear he wasn't used to.

He turned a corner and looked around the area, searching for a sign of her in the darkness. But the street was almost deserted, only the clatter of his footsteps echoed. The sky was now almost completely covered by heavy clouds and he knew it wouldn't be long before it started to rain.

Shigaraki slowed his steps as he noticed something on the ground. Right in front of him, in the dim light of the lanterns, lay a single feather. It was unmistakable, a black feather that shimmered deep red in the light. He knelt down, picked up the feather, and ran it through his finger. It was one of Rain's feathers, he knew that for sure.

But before he could think about it any further, something else caught his eye. Just inches from the feather, half hidden in the shadows, lay a small object. Shigaraki reached for it and picked it up. A syringe. Turning it over in his hand, he immediately recognized the packaging. A Quirk Suppressant. The label was half rubbed off, but he knew this guy all too well. It was the same substance the heroes occasionally used to temporarily incapacitate dangerous villains.

His eyes narrowed as he examined the syringe. Rain's feather along with that medicine? His heartbeat quickened, a dark premonition creeping into his consciousness. It was no coincidence that these things were here. He felt the anger growing inside him, his fingers tightening around the syringe, which instantly crumbled to dust.

He slowly stood up and looked down the street until he saw more feathers on the ground that looked like a trail. The realization hit him like a punch in the stomach: Rain might have been kidnapped. The thought that someone had laid a hand on her, that someone might have hurt her, made the anger inside him boil over.

With grim determination, he set off, following the trail of feathers. His steps quickened, and the possibility that Rain was in danger swirled in his mind. He had only one thought: to find her and destroy those who would harm her.

Suddenly, a shrill scream broke the silence of the night. "Let me go!" It was Rain, her voice full of desperation and anger. Without hesitation, Shigaraki ran, his heart racing in his chest as he followed the scream.

As he rounded the next corner, he stopped short, his breath catching in his throat as he saw the shocking sight before him. Rain was lying on the ground, her wings spread and twitching, unable to unfold. Two men held her down, their hands pressing her mercilessly into the dirt while a third man knelt on top of her. This third man ripped the clothes from her body with rough, violent movements as Rain struggled desperately. Her eyes flashed with anger and panic, but it was obvious that her Quirk was suppressed, she was powerless.

Shigaraki recognized the men immediately. They were not ordinary thugs, but members of Overhaul's Yakuza. Their presence here was a clear sign that this was no coincidence. They were specifically after Rain.

His hands clenched into fists so tightly that his fingernails dug into his palms. For a brief moment, a dizzying rage rose within him, clouding his thoughts like a storm. Without hesitation, he marched toward the group with long, determined strides, his hands beginning to shake, not from fear or nervousness, but from the urge to end their lives.

"Hands off her!" growled Shigaraki, his voice deep and threatening, like a predator seeing its prey for the first time. His hand, which he held out, was no longer shaking, but filled with absolute certainty.

The man kneeling on Rain was the first to notice Shigaraki and turned abruptly. With a quick, precise grip, Shigaraki placed his fingers on the man's face. He felt the skin begin to change beneath his fingers, the flesh beneath begin to dissolve as if it were crumbling under an invisible force. The man opened his mouth as if to scream, but no sound came out, only a silent scream as his body crumbled to dust beneath Shigaraki's touch. In a few seconds, nothing was left of him, just a small cloud of dust carried away by the light wind.

The other two men still holding Rain stared at Shigaraki, their faces twisted in pure fear. But before they could even react, Shigaraki turned to them. "Your turn," he said in a low, almost casual voice that dripped with deadly intent.

One of the two tried to let go of Rain and back away, but Shigaraki was faster. He grabbed the man by the arm and in a split second he too began to dissolve into nothing. The horrific sight caused the last man to crawl away in fear.

Shigaraki drew himself up to his full height and stepped menacingly towards the last attacker. "Do you think you can escape from someone like me?" he asked quietly, the anger in his voice barely under control. He grabbed the man by the neck and with a final, merciless squeeze of his fingers, he too crumbled to dust and dissolved into the cool night air.

The street was quiet again, only the distant rumble of thunder heralded the approaching rain. Shigaraki stood still for a moment, his hands shaking slightly, not from exhaustion but from intense tension. His gaze fell on Rain, who was still lying on the ground, her breathing shallow and uneven, her eyes wide with shock and relief.

He knelt beside her, his hands now gentle, almost tender, as he carefully lifted her up. "It's over," he whispered, his anger now replaced by worry and care. "No one will ever hurt you again."

Rain, still under the influence of the drug, could only nod weakly. She clung to him, her body shaking slightly, but Shigaraki held her tightly, determined not to let go so easily.

"Shigaraki..." she whispered, her voice shaking as if she could barely comprehend what had just happened. It wasn't just the shock that left her speechless, but the fact that he had to save her, that had put her in such a situation.

"I'm here," he answered quietly, his voice calm but the fire of anger still burning in his eyes. Without hesitation, he slid one arm under her knees and the other around her back and lifted her gently but firmly into his arms. The contrast between the brutality he had just shown and the tenderness with which he now held her was almost surreal.

Rain leaned her head on his shoulder and slowly closed her eyes as she curled up in his arms like a wounded creature seeking protection. Shigaraki felt her body tremble slightly and held her tighter as if to protect her from all the evil in the world.

He carried her down the street, back to the bar. The rain began to fall in thick drops from the sky, the streets glittered in the dim light of the lanterns, but Shigaraki paid no attention. His only thought was to get Rain to safety.

When he reached the bar, he pushed the door open with his shoulder and stepped inside. The warm light and familiar sounds of the place greeted him, but the conversations immediately stopped when Twice, Himiko, and Kurogiri noticed him. Their eyes widened when they saw Rain in his arms, and their gazes jumped between her and Shigaraki, realizing that something bad must have happened.

"What the hell happened?" Twice asked, his voice a mixture of concern and disbelief. "Rain... is she hurt?"

"Shigaraki-sama..." Kurogiri began, but Shigaraki interrupted him with a sharp look.

"Not now," he growled, his eyes flashing with suppressed anger. "Get us something to drink and leave us alone."

Toga, who would normally have made a mocking remark in such moments, remained silent. Her gaze rested on Rain and a strange mixture of concern and quiet anger flashed across her face. She said nothing, but just nodded silently and disappeared behind the bar to get the drinks they had ordered.

Shigaraki walked with Rain in his arms to his usual spot, a large leather chair positioned so that he could see the entire bar. He sat down slowly, holding her tightly to him, as if he was afraid she might slip away if he let go.

Rain still clung to him, her breathing slowly calming down, but she said nothing. His closeness gave her a feeling of security that she desperately needed after what she had just experienced.

"You're safe," Shigaraki whispered, his voice softer now, almost tender. "I won't let anything like that happen to you again."

"It... it was Overhaul's men..." Rain's voice was weak when she finally spoke, her words faltering as she voiced the memory. "They wanted... I couldn't do anything..."

"I know," he answered calmly, but the anger still glowed in his eyes. "They're dead now. No one will ever do that to you again, you understand? No one."

Toga came back, wordlessly placing a glass of water on the table next to them, then stepped back as if to make sure she wasn't disturbing them. Twice was also reserved, seeming almost unnaturally quiet, betraying his usual split personality.

"Shigaraki-sama," Kurogiri ventured again, his voice calm but full of concern. "Should I secure the area? There could be more of Overhaul's men on the way."

Shigaraki looked up at him, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Yes, do that. And find out how they found us. That can't happen again."

Kurogiri nodded and disappeared into a dark vortex to carry out the order. Rain felt Shigaraki turn back to her and tighten his grip on her, as if he wanted to calm her down with his presence alone.

"Shigaraki..." Rain whispered again, this time her voice sounded a little stronger, but she was still shaking slightly. "I... I'm sorry I was so weak..."

"Weak?" His voice sounded almost surprised, then he shook his head slightly. "You're not weak, Rain. You were caught off guard, your quirk was suppressed, that's all. There's nothing to apologize for."

She closed her eyes and took in his words as she snuggled closer to him. "I should have... I should have been stronger," she murmured, her fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.

"It doesn't matter," he answered softly, his lips almost touching her hair as he spoke. "You're here with me. That's all that matters."

The bar went quiet again, except for the gentle patter of rain, now hitting the windows harder. Shigaraki sat there, Rain tightly in his arms, while Himiko and Twice kept a respectful distance, their eyes full of silent concern and unspoken questions.

Twice sat in the corner of the bar, his face tense, his hands nervously kneading the back of his chair. He watched Shigaraki, who continued to hold Rain tightly in his arms, like a predator defending its prey. But there was more to his gaze, something soft that was rarely seen in Shigaraki's eyes. It was a mixture of concern, protectiveness, and uncontrollable anger that lurked like a seething mass just beneath the surface.

Twice couldn't take it anymore. The silence, the tension in the air and, above all, the image of Rain lying so vulnerable in Shigaraki's arms. "I... I'm just going..." he murmured, more to himself than to the others, as he stood up and hurried up the stairs to the rooms on the upper floor.

"Where are you going?" Toga asked quietly and followed him with his eyes as he disappeared, but he did not hear her.

Once upstairs, Twice searched through a closet and finally found what he was looking for - a thick, warm blanket. "This will help," he muttered to himself as he hurried back downstairs. "Rain needs this now, she's probably cold because of the wetness..."

He returned to the bar, his movements cautious, almost hesitant, as he approached Shigaraki and Rain, the blanket folded carefully over his arm and a look of concern and determination in his eyes.

"Here, Rain," he said quietly when he was close enough to her. "I thought this might help you feel a little better..."

He lifted the blanket, ready to gently wrap it around Rain, but at that moment, Shigaraki raised his head and stared at him. The look he gave him made Twice pause. It was a look as cutting as a knife. Sharp and piercing, as if he was ready at that moment to tear to pieces anyone who came too close to Rain, even if it was one of his own people.

Twice froze, his hands shaking slightly as he still held the blanket. "I just wanted to..." he began uncertainly, but Shigaraki didn't interrupt him, instead keeping his gaze fixed on him.

Rain sensed Shigaraki's tension, raised her head slightly and looked at Twice. Her eyes met his and she recognized the compassion and warmth in his gaze. "It's okay," she whispered softly, her voice weak but still reassuring. "He... he just wants to help."

Shigaraki took a deep breath, his eyes flickering briefly before he finally nodded slightly, a barely perceptible sign that he allowed it. He understood the gesture, the need to comfort Rain, to warm her, and he let Twice do that, even though he found it difficult to let anyone get so close to her.

"Thank you," Twice murmured as he carefully placed the blanket over Rain. He moved slowly so as not to startle her, making sure the blanket covered her completely so she could feel the warmth. "It'll do you good, Rain. You're safe here... with us."

Rain smiled weakly, her lips trembling slightly as she pulled the soft blanket around herself. "Thank you, Twice," she said quietly, her voice full of relief and gratitude.

Shigaraki watched the whole thing in silence, but when the blanket was wrapped around Rain, he immediately pulled her tightly against him again, as if to make sure that no one and nothing could take her away from him. His hand ran soothingly through her hair while he pressed her head to his chest and he felt her body gradually relax.

Twice took a step back, his gaze still fixed on Rain. "I... I'll go then..." he said quietly and looked at Shigaraki. "If you need anything else..."

"That's enough," Shigaraki replied curtly, his voice rough but not hostile. "Thank you, Twice."

Twice nodded quickly and retreated. He sat back down in the corner of the bar, his eyes still on the couple who now remained silent.

Rain breathed in and out slowly, her head resting safely on Shigaraki's chest while his arms held her tight. Nothing was more threatening to him at that moment than the thought that he could have lost her.

With a loud bang, the bar's door flew open and the violent storm raging outside burst in with an icy gust. Dabi, Spinner, and Mr. Compress entered, their clothes soaked and sticking to their bodies. Drops of water ran from Dabi's black coat to the floor while Spinner nervously removed the hood of his jacket. His scaly face was pale from the cold. Mr. Compress, on the other hand, shook off his top hat while removing the soaked mask from his face.

"Damn weather," Dabi grumbled, rubbing his hands as he crossed the room. "I hate it when it rains like this."

Spinner grimaced as he unzipped his soaked jacket and looked at the group in the bar with a pained expression. "We could have saved ourselves that."

Mr. Compress shook his mask to get rid of the water. "Well, at least we're back and can warm up," he said with humor, although he noticed his comrades' discontent. "And maybe we should put on some dry clothes..."

But when the three of them entered the bar, they immediately sensed that something was wrong. The atmosphere was depressing, almost oppressive, and those present looked worriedly at Shigaraki and Rain, who were still slumped in the large armchair.

Dabi's eyes narrowed as he quickly scanned the room. "What the hell...?" He noticed Rain's messy hair, the dark circles under her eyes, and the way Shigaraki held her protectively. The blanket hung loosely around her shoulders, but she was still shivering slightly.

"What's going on here?" Spinner asked, his voice filled with curiosity and growing concern. He stepped closer to the group, his eyes searching the faces of his comrades for an explanation.

Mr. Compress's expression lost its usual composure as he took in the scene. He took a step forward, his voice calm, almost gentle, as he asked, "Rain... are you... okay?"

Rain raised her head slightly, but could only nod weakly before pressing herself tightly against Shigaraki's chest again. She was both physically and emotionally exhausted and seemed at a loss for words.

"Where is Kurogiri?" Dabi suddenly asked, his gaze moving from Rain to Twice. "And what the hell happened?"

Twice looked directly at Dabi, his usual double meaning missing at this moment, instead there was only deep, serious concern in his voice. "Kurogiri is on his way to make sure there are no remnants of Overhaul's men left nearby. It... it was close."

Dabi growled quietly and clenched his hands into fists, trying to control the flood of emotions boiling up inside him. "Overhaul's men, you say? What did they do?"

"They dared to attack Rain," Shigaraki hissed, his voice ice cold. His eyes flashed dangerously and the air in the bar seemed to get even heavier for a moment. "They thought they could attack my Rain... but they miscalculated."

Dabi felt his own anger rising, mixed with an eerie sense of anticipation. "So none of those bastards are still alive, right?"

Shigaraki looked down at Rain briefly, his hand gently stroking her hair, before looking back at Dabi. "Yes."

"Good," Dabi said simply, the blue fire flickering on his hand as his resolve grew. "I hope you made her suffer slowly."

"Slowly enough," Shigaraki replied, pulling Rain even closer to him as if he wanted to erase the memory of what had happened. "But this isn't over yet. We're going to make Overhaul pay for this."

"What... can we do?" Mr. Compress asked carefully, his voice still cautious. "When Kurogiri comes back, we can talk and..."

"I need you here now," Shigaraki interrupted. "Secure the bar. We don't know if it was just those men or if there are more of them lurking nearby. No one is coming in here, understand?"

Dabi, Spinner and Mr. Compress nodded, their seriousness was now palpable. Each of them felt the deep bond in this group, the unwritten rule that none of them would be left alone when things got serious.

"We're ready," Dabi said firmly, walking back to the door with determined steps and watchful eyes. "And if any more of Overhaul's men show up here, I'll burn them to ashes before they have a chance."

Spinner and Mr. Compress followed, carrying their own worries and anger, and took up positions to protect the bar, determined to defend their comrades and friends, whatever the cost.

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