#Pride & Ruin fanfic

[winkeuu]

[sweetvalentinescandy]

i forgot to draw something for pride month so heres creek. you know. as a treat

the true pride festival experience (i had my first one this year! it was so fun!! i also lowkey fell in love with some cute alt kid but i was also a state away from home and they did not talk to me)

[reddogf13]

Pride & Ruin CH 1

on A03 as well

Alcina X Ethan

summery: Determined to find his daughter Ethan Winters, an omega, storms the castle of Alcina Dimitrescu, an alpha. While fleeing her three beta daughters Ethan has the unfortunate luck of being snagged on the alphas claws. Slipping out a yelp, Ethan fears the worst. Instead, luck will be in his favor under a prideful alpha and Miranda's plans will fall to ruin.

Status: Incomplete

Rated: M - fowl language and gore

Previous chap: None

Next chap: Ch:2 Scars & gauze

___________________

~Ch:1 Misstep~

Ethan Winters was an injured, exhausted, incredibly broken omega. His baby daughter stolen from him after his wife was murdered by his ex-friend for unknown reasons. Waking confused after a serious truck crash. He fought off multiple Lycan's in a strange land far from home. Was captured by some beta male, a lord of the village lands, with telekinetic powers. taken before three other lords and some witch who he discovered now has his daughter captive. Two in that room he was terrified of in particular. That witch decorated in gold, surrounded by large crow wings and the other an extremely tall lady dressed in white. both were alphas, that he hoped would never notice what he is. His heart skipped a beat when the notion of who would get him came up. Partly relieved that the alpha lost to the beta. Almost killed by the same male lord who caught him, but lucky enough to escape his tunnel of torture. Ethan had set out on finding his daughter through the village.

The first was a cryptic hag who pointed him toward a large castle. Outside by the gates he met a strange overly large man with a bright jolly attitude. He got more information out of him than anyone else in the past twelve hours. Hearing of each lords reputation he perked up at the mentioned alpha Alcina Dimitrescu.

“the grand lady of the castle, you must've seen her. Her reputation and that of the castle of blood and death have traveled far. Not so surprising of an alpha, but don't assume she doesn't have a gentle hand. she was always interested in having children, maybe your Rose is hidden away in her castle. It wouldn't hurt to start there.” The large man gestured toward the gates right before tempting Ethan to buy supplies. If Rose was in the castle, he'd have to get her out quick.

Now, he was risking so much by being inside. Soon after entering, he was caught. She had three daughters, he couldn't tell what they were at first. Terrified they were alphas as well by the scent stuck to them. Dragging him by a sickle stabbed through the leg toward a room where she was. Heart nearly leaping from his chest upon entering a bedroom. Terrified she knew until she did her little introduction. Extremely lucky so far that she still thought he was a beta. He took his suppressants a while before all of this. It was hiding his true nature, but those were on the verge of wearing off. He was meant to take his next dosage this morning, but Chris's assault on his family prevented that.

Escaping the painful hooks hoisting him off the ground. He was running around with not much of a plan. Fearing someone would notice something off the longer he lingered. He himself was already feeling himself crumble inside. The lovely scent of that alpha was everywhere and he couldn't help but relax to it if he stopped for too long. He was getting caught too much by the lady's three daughters because of it. A few times by the lady herself, he soon learned had the intimidating trait of grow able blades for nails. Bitter to admit that he found her as beautiful as she was dangerous. Figuring out quickly her daughters weren't human at all, being a swarm of shape changing insects. that may be considered the beta types with their lack of scent, if even that. Figuring out they had trouble scenting him at all.

Fleeing away from them, for possibly the fifteenth time, he stopped to crouch for a rest. Wheezing air into his burning lungs aching behind his bruised ribs. Cuts, stabs and other broken things were taking its toll. Ultimately this would lead to a terrible mistake. He was being herded in the halls and didn't realize until it was too late. The girls attacked him into fleeing down this hall, in particular. They caught up while making their presence well known to get him running ahead again. Distracted by the pain his body was going through he didn't hear the crackle of Alcina's stretched out claws. He passed a corner without looking, and a severe pain hit his side. Multiple pinning stabs had him slip out a yelp. The worse he could have let happen right in front of her.

Fortunately, and unfortunately, he wasn't the only one regretting their actions. Briefly, just before the hit. It had all come together for Alcina. She was about to be rid of this rat in her castle. For hours he'd been destroying her property. Taking what wasn't his and leading her poor girls on an endless chase. Imagining the praise she'd be showered by her mother for containing him when that dunce Heisenberg couldn't. Her claws unsheathed, she readied them at his approaching footsteps. Soon as he turned the corner she stabbed them right into that pathetic man-thing. Excited at the thought of causing him pain. The scream she expected didn't come, but a cried out yelp. High pitched, quick, it didn't last long and yet the sound hit her like a bolt of lightning. Her heart seized in her chest, body locking up in immediate guilt, she yanked her claws back soon after he was slammed into the ground from them. Freed, he wasted no time scrambling away to disappear within the castle. Her body stayed locked in place to process what had happened. She caused an omega to yelp.

It was a unique sound to them. An alert to let alphas know they were being harmed or a depressing bid to not be attacked by one. Any alpha who heard it would have an instinctual reaction to it. To run and protect their omega or freeze what they were doing alongside immense regret. She already wanted to find him and treat the wounds she caused. Driving her regret further in remembering the few other times she clawed him, but he hadn't yelped. Mildly Relieved by the fact he seemed far sturdier than any other she has lashed out against. His healing was remarkable against her hits. The other times he was nabbed by her daughters his wounds were hardly a worry.

Those three lovely daughters of hers ran up to their mother, who stood frozen in place. The man-thing long gone from their ambush. They worried about having failed her in setting the trap. Bela, her eldest with blonde hair, looked up at her in concern. “mother, what happened?”

she let out a long drawn breath. “he's an omega.”

An omega, in their castle, was the biggest shock. her daughters looked to one another, a bit of curiosity mixed with excitement. being non-human they didn't fully understand the mechanics of alphas, betas and omegas. Far too easy for them to miss their pheromone cues when evolution never required it of their insect species. Confused when their mother got extra snappy during her rut. Or why betas in the village were always anxious of them, even when not seen. bearing an alphas scent everywhere after living with their mother 24/7. however, they read up on it all and knew the strong bond an alpha and omega could have. A shared presence between the two would calm one another, boost healing, and most importantly would create strong brood. Far more than what a beta and omega pair could create.

Daniela, her youngest child with bright red hair, asked. “aren't they rare?”

“extremely, as much as alphas.” both were slowly disappearing in the world. Evolution no longer had much of a need for them in modern society. Alphas could breed with betas just fine, but it only resulted in betas. Betas together only beget more betas. An omega was the only one that could have children in each branch. There hadn't been an omega in the village in centuries and like hell she'd let this one escape her grasp.

Is this why you wanted him so bad? A raging fire filled her lungs. Mother Miranda said he was important for the ceremony and stole his daughter for it. She knows how far omegas will go to keep their offspring safe. she must know what he is. Why didn't she tell me? Her claws threatened to extend on their own. A secret she didn't want me to know. To have. Instincts urged her to claim him first. Fighting the other part of her demanding loyalty to Miranda after all she gave. Gifting a pathetic diseased alpha immense power, three darling daughters to have, all the wealth of her ancestors. Could she steal such a mate from one she owed her own life to?

Broken from her thoughts by her daughters. “should we go after him?”

“no.” He's long gone and in hiding. That was a perfect hit then all the others. Heart aching for what she'd done and not wanting to cause him any more stress. “My dears, we'll have to change how we react to Mr. winters.” making sure she had her daughters' full attention. “don't harm him if he comes out, herd him away from escape and nothing more. … I need to think.” heading off to grab a bottle of wine in the cellar. How didn't I notice? I tasted his blood, smelled it so many times and still- suppressants. She glared to the side. No, there's more to it than that. Face crinkling in remembrance. Long ago In her time living out of the village she came across omegas under their influence. Each of them smelled like a pharmacy. She knew the scent well, loathed that it reminded her so much of the hospitals she used to see regularly for her blood disorder. Her nose had grown too sensitive toward it, hating it wafting by in the jazz clubs when omegas were more abundant. while other alphas had no idea what she was talking about when it was brought up. He didn't smell anything like that, his blood wasn't strong in taste. A strange flatness she mistook for some disease causing staleness. she'd never tasted something like it before on anyone. His healing is closer to mine than any other. What else hasn't she told? Miranda said he was special. Another detail to hide from me? His scent was still suppressed, but lacked the medicine smell. which meant. They're wearing off. It's only a matter of time before his heat.

Stepping into the kitchen she perused the wine for her special bottle of red. Delicately decorated with silver across the large bottle. Staring into her reflection across the glass. She gave me everything and I'm ready to steal from her. She's right not to trust me if that's my first thought. Grabbing a few glasses in her free hand before returning to the main room. She gazed down onto the freshly opened bejeweled bottle to pour its rich red wine. The heavy scent of iron flowed off it when swished around her glass. Sticking more than a regular wine would to the glass cup. Her daughters drinking the same vintage on the couch opposite to hers. Bela mixed a dash of it into a hot cup of tea to sip alongside reading her book. Daniela sat next to Cassandra, her middle eldest with dark brunette hair, drank theirs from similar wine glasses. as they talked about something their mother couldn't focus on right now.

I couldn't steal him from Miranda. The immense disappointment she'd have for me. A weak feeble creature whose logical reasoning fell to primal urges. Bringing up a hand to slightly extend her claws in bored inspection. To go against nature and hand an omega over to competition? She never expected me to be strong. Preferring that false alpha Heisenberg over me, after being so loyal. She even gave him that omega to keep him from me. Claws threatened to pierce the couch's armrest. Remembering back to the meeting then to the call she made right after capturing winters. She expected something from her after reporting Karl's failure. A “well done.” or a simple “handle it since Karl couldn't.”.

But no, she was practically scolded. “Why is he in your castle?”

She was taken aback by Miranda's snippy tone. As if accusing her of inviting winters over. “he came in after escaping Heisenberg.” she restated. “that overgrown child has never been responsible with anything. I'll take on his responsibilities and make sure business is taken care of with Mr. winters. Shall I have the girls-”

“no, he's needed for the ceremony. Keep him contained until then. If that's too hard for you then hand him off.”

“... yes mother. Nothing to worry about.” every conversation felt the same since her gift given day. What did I expect? Remembering the olden days she used to get so much praise and pleasant greetings when she was ill. Walks around the castle grounds where they happily chatted about life. Those brief times were when she felt free from her illness that left her mostly bedridden. When she was offered a gift, a chance at a cure, she didn't hesitate to accept. When she got better from Miranda's gift it became more of a battle between them. She didn't know what changed. Miranda was excited to see her do so well, until a few flaws came to the surface. Her tall growth shouldn't cause this much ire. Alphas were always bigger. Didn't this make her better than any other? Was it because her bad blood still stayed? That was handled for the most part, like taking medicine instead of a slow death. Blood was far more preferable to choking down useless pills. She was made strong enough to kill an army of men! A pure being of horror any place would fear her name... and yet.

Why am I never enough? She prefers a beta over me. One who clearly has no loyalties to her, but does she listen to my warnings? A clink sound from her glass forced her to calm down. Watching a drop of wine escape through a stress crack. A little more pressure would have smashed it and ruin her white dress. Is it because I'm an alpha? I wasn't a threat before when dying of bad blood? Why was I given such a gift then shortly tossed away? Is that all she sees me as? Competition, a threat to her power after all I've given? Her frown twisted into a smile. She knew I'd want him and knew I'd see how valuable he was. Of course, my blood disease still lingers, but my fertility was revived. What true alpha would let such a prime mate go? I've never denied myself of any pleasure. For fresh blood to take over the old must fall to the new. Swirling around her glass. With him, I could make a mighty clan of royal blood. I just have to claim him before she does. How could someone fumble a prize so badly for it to land in the competitions den on a silver platter? Now, how to lure him out?

Meanwhile the hidden omega, injured, was currently hiding in the walls. Making a sad little nest to lay on out of torn up couch cushions he stole from the attic. Depressingly feeling like an actual rat infesting the house of blood. Recovering from his injury in record time compared to any other. His body still felt the after soreness. Bruising seeming to take the longest to heal. Guess my body doesn't see it as a problem. Wincing when he sat up to look over his recent stabbing. The holes were still there, but shallower than before. Startled by a sound he mistook for buzzing of the sisters. Calming down at it being his hollow stomach. He hardly ate dinner before everything went so wrong.

I can't chance leaving right now. Not after- ugh. I held it all the other times, why then? She knows now. That yelp had trapped him deeper in this place. She was annoyed when he escaped before. That would change to an obsession. She'd be more subtle in her hunts to catch instead of kill. He had to find out where Rose is and run from this castle. If he was caught and claimed, she'd never let him go. He'd struggle to escape her, his anxiety problems crippled his body beyond functionality enough as is. Even his bond with Mia was difficult after the Louisiana incident. Constantly grating on her nerves to stick close to her at all times. She understood that it was how he was, but she wasn't an alpha. Her scent couldn't calm him and his couldn't tame the annoyance he unintentionally caused. He always felt bad whenever he tried to talk about what happened. It helped him, but upset her every time. Eventually he stopped and focused on his daughter instead. Her small smiling face giggling at him always warmed his chest. Taking her tiny hand that grasped his.

I'll find you. I promise. Wiping away the tears stinging his eyes. Stomach growling again to find some food. Dammit. … can't if I starve in the walls. Grabbing onto some wooden posts he lifted himself up. Following alongside the walls to a map in his head. Stopping by one wall he guessed was attached to the kitchen. Picking up a nearby broken stone he knocked it into one that felt loose. Popped free he peeked through its empty space. It was the kitchen with food scattered around the place. Good, didn't fuck up. Trying as quietly as possible to knock more stones free. Slipping through the gap he cautiously searched the room. Skipping any meat for fear they were once other people. He took up an apple instead from inside a basket. I should take- fleeing at the sight of a swarm of flies rushing in.

“hey! He went into the wall!” he heard one of the girls shout behind him.

He took no chance in checking, sure that they were following. He ran the entire way back to his micro den. Taking less than a second to crumple down and slide a fake chunk of wood over it. He laid still and quiet in waiting. Watching what little light he saw disappear while their footsteps thudded above to run past. Letting out a breath when they were gone. Holding onto the lone apple he snagged that he would have to eat later. Hope they leave soon, I can’t hunker down all day.

But they didn't. Searching for hours until the sun touched the mountains. The inner walls too cold for them to hunt any longer they returned empty handed. Disappointed, they failed in helping their mother. She didn't feel the same, more amused they tried so hard. Omegas were always skillful in hiding and the inner walls were far more perfect then they knew. She couldn't get him herself, far too narrow. The girls could go in, but being unable to smell him, like her, they couldn't track. He could leave and pop up anywhere in the castle. Throughout the day she was tempted to break the walls. A thin bit of stone being her only blockage. However she couldn't ruin her home by having it look like Swiss cheese.

He came here for something and as soon as he realizes it's not here he'll leave. If he can get through the kitchen wall he can break through to the outside. Catching him out there would be impossible. The girls can't go after him long and I have too tall a stature to follow. “Girls, follow me. We need to discuss someplace else.” gesturing the three to follow. Leading them into the library where sound didn't travel well. Bookcases lining the walls would stop him from spying. She kept to whispers anyway to not chance a thing. “I have an important task for you. It'll be incredibly hard, but we have no more time.”

“what is it?” “what do we do?” “an ambush?” they questioned all at once.

“You have to fly to Salvatore's. Fetch me what he has there. You know what.”

“but mother Miranda-”

“She kept him a secret, because she saw me as competition. Me, her most loyal then any other. If she sees me as competition, then I will be. only one can have that omega and he'll be mine.” she proudly smiled. “We can't pass up this opportunity. He can help our family grow far and wide. No other blood line would compare to ours. I know what he wants and it wouldn't hurt to add another to our castle.”

they simultaneously agreed. “Yes, mother.” energized for the mission.

“heat up some pouches of dry rice. It'll keep you warm enough for there and back. With luck, that disgusting creature hasn't completed what Miranda asked of him. Even If so, bring his results anyway. This is the most important part, you cannot be seen by anyone. I expect she'll find out eventually, but we cannot have Miranda discovering what we did so soon.”

they simultaneously spoke. “Yes, mother.”

“if what you find is the same as it was. I need some important supplies to care for it.” giving them a list to scavenge the dead village for. disappearing when she waved them off.

If she's been crystallized already it would make things so much harder. If not, her cries will lure him out in no time. For now, he must be far hungrier than before. Wouldn't hurt to try other things in the meantime. Heading back to the kitchen she set up a simple trap. Not expecting it to work, more so just to catch a glimpse of how he was doing. Watching his escape tunnel using the reflection of a large silver platter hung on the wall. A little away from it, was a small set up of food in a wooden bowl. A few hard boiled eggs freshly peeled, a bread roll, a wedge of cheese and some fruit. Close enough to tempt and far enough she could stop his escape. Waiting patiently quiet it took some time before he peeked out. Excited to see him she drummed her fingers against her crossed arm to keep herself still. He glanced around then stopped on the baited bowl. Staring at it blankly before his face scrunched. Well aware it was a trap he looked very insulted by it. Disappearing back to where he came from within the walls.

Oh well. She held a chuckle at his expression. Was worth a try. Worried that she still didn't see his injuries. If I could get him out a little further I could-

“Mother! Mother! Mother!” Daniela excitedly whispered while running over. “She's in your room!”

Alcina rushed to go see what her daughters had brought back. Thrilled to see the small child the same as glimpsed in mother Miranda's arms. Perfectly fine and curious of everyone surrounding her. The baby smiled up at her without an ounce of fear.

Bela handed her over to her mother. “She was quiet the whole way. A happy little bundle of sunshine since we nabbed her.”

“How bold, a clever alpha for sure. Miranda must've not wanted me to see you either, such a giveaway.” she smiled, letting the child take her hand. Her heart felt like it was melting while holding the little bundle of joy. She always loved holding her girls, but they were never this small before. “such a charming little girl. She has golden hair like her father.” his blood must be strong to have such a child with a beta. She faced her daughters. “anyone see you?”

“no.” Cassandra shook her head. “Salvatore was too busy looking at his equipment. we kept low in the alleys while raiding the village.” pointing to bags full of supplies. “We found a couple goats and left them in the courtyard.”

“perfect, as always.” she praised. “Please, bring the bags up to the den in the high tower. I'll handle the rest from there.”

“Yes, mother.” flashing away with the bags. Alcina carried the joyful child to her new room. An old omega den deep in the castles core high in the upper levels. A difficult point to reach for any challengers looking to claim. It provided everything a pair could need equal to a whole house on its own. A bathroom, a small dining room, a living space, a separate nursery and a bedroom. Entering the area she frowned at its condition. Scoffing at the dust coating everything had. Shameful. She scolded herself for letting it get so bad. Although, with her blood disease she never expected it to be used. She wouldn't have survived bearing a child and the child would be still born if she did. With her new ability to heal that was no longer an issue. She'd have to keep up on drinking her blood is all.

She left to swiftly grab some cleaning supplies. Leaving the small child with her three daughters to bond. Starting on the small side room nursery. Clearing the hand carved crib of all its cobwebs. Dusted and shining like new she prepared it with fresh silk bedding. Resting down the little darling for a much needed nap. passing good-nights with the girls they separated. She started a fire in the main fireplace for some better lighting. Dusting to sweeping the whole area until she saw her reflection in the furniture. Prime waxed wooden floors to dark wooden furniture covered in fine cushioning. Pillars of fine marble went along the walls to reach up to the ceiling. Covered in golden swirling designs around a chandelier of hanging crystals. The back of the living room rose by two steps physically separating the living half from the bedroom half. Furthest at the back was a circular room with a fitted circle bed to fill most of it. Allowing only a small walking crescent at its front to get in. Its bed surrounded by thick dark red canopy strung from the ceiling. Canopy dusted clear She stripped the bed next to re-cover it in clean layers of plush blankets and pillows. Enough that any omega would be satisfied getting lost under.

Checking on her newest addition to the home. She scooped her up into her arms for a refreshing bath and a change of her dingy baby clothes. Holding back a repulsed look at the lake sludge on them from Salvatore's lair. Humming as she dried her laughing daughter. Grabbing things she needed from the bag to dress her in a fresh diaper and new clothes. They didn't fit the royal quality she liked, but they'd do for now. Only one thing left. “I'll need a little assistance from my new daughter.” she spoke to the smiling child she picked up. Playing with her on the way to the kitchen by teasing her with her hand. Posting at her last spot to watch through the silver plate. The bowl of food left untouched since she left. Her attention turned onto the bundled child in her arms. Tickling and teasing her to let out some hear-able laughter.

Resting in his hole, Ethan shot up at the sound of Rose. His heart raced, head whipping around to locate the noise he took off the false floor. Determination to keep his child safe shoving down any fear of being caught. Racing down the narrow path to the kitchen once again. Peeking out to carefully listen on how his daughter was. What could be happening to her and who was nearby. His revealed omega status made her presence here so much more unsafe. If Rose was a beta, her existence would have been shrugged off. As an alpha, she was competition to the others who wouldn't tolerate her. Swiftly killed if they so decided she was. He was in a race against the clock to save her. Stepping out a bit too fast by her sounds getting farther away. He swallowed roughly on a dry throat. Jolting forward between stopping every time the halls had a crossing. Preparing for one of the girls to be waiting around a corner eventually. It got to a point he had to stop hesitating to pass. I'm falling too far behind. Having trouble hearing Rose he had to rely on something else. The alphas scent strongly lingering in the halls. Tracking her down halls, up many stairs, then many more halls when he came upon an open door. It was the only one open at the end of a short pitch black hall, its light from a fireplace beamed out in a golden ray.

He knew a trap when he saw one. What happens when I go in? Could I knock out the wall? He crept closer to the doorway. Examining the strong door for any weaknesses. If I can break it, it won't stop me from running later. I can grab Rose, dodge all I can and get out. Peeking past the open doorway he couldn't see anyone nearby. The alphas strong scent told him otherwise. Slipping a knife from his pocket in preparation to be lunged at. No, this wont work. Has to be another way in. Maybe I can break a wall somewhere. Make it outside and- he got two steps back from the door. out of the corner of his eye, two gold flecks shone from the darkness. Catching on too slow that it was her eyes reflecting the light.

She scooped him off his feet into a large blanket. Chuckling at her catch struggling inside to break free. Having prepared this trap just in case he got too spooked and doubled back. She was anxious when he passed by to reach the door. Hiding in the shadows she almost jumped too early when she saw him getting close. Releasing her held breath once inside the room she slammed the door shut. After the loud thud announced his entrapment a knife pierced through the blanket to frantically lash every which way. Forced to lean back, she almost dropped him to the floor. Letting out a warning snarl that froze him enough to yank the blade away. Tightening the bundle in preventing him from reaching anything else on him. She kept him calm up until he heard his daughters babbling. First she felt his heart race then he scrambled to get away again. Unable to calm him like before she worked to unfold his cover.

Admiring his protectiveness while also annoyed. “She's fine, she's fine.” she repeated when he was partly freed. His body slacked at seeing Rose set carefully on the bed. His feet set on the floor she held him still by the throat. Careful how strong her grip was while she looked him over. Hating all the weapons on him she began cutting the straps using a claw. Confiscating everything she could find before letting him loose. Gently pushing him to stay calmly off to the side.

Pressed to sit on the couch he looked back to her, shrinking away when she passed him. Fearing what she was going to do at approaching his daughter. He leapt off the couch to run for Rose. Stopped by her grabbing onto his shirt collar to keep him partly off the ground. He had no traction to squirm away and no where near the strength needed to pry her grip away. His heart sank in his chest at failing to protect his daughter. Wheezing between his struggle to break free and take her into his arms. So close yet so far while the alpha drew closer to take his child. He resorted to the only thing he could do, plead with their captor.

“please, please don't!” shutting his eyes to what was about to happen. He didn't want to see those claws carve into her. Worse being a cruel slow torture he couldn't imagine. Body locking up in threatening to go limp he was hyperventilating so hard alongside tears escaping him. Releasing a sob when his face was grabbed. Flinching at first in expecting pain by the firm hold, but it was gentle enough. Rubbing the side of his face his hyperventilating stopped. Replacing it was his body shaking uncontrollably. If she let go of his collar he would surely collapse. Needing all the comfort he could get he leaned into her gloved hand. Swapping each others scent through the markers along his jaw and the ones at her wrist. His scent, still suppressed, wasn't giving much of anything. While hers was the chilled mountain air blowing between pines laced by a crisp freshly cut apple. Moved back by her she sat him down on the bed. He still refused to open his eyes when she released his collar. Holding his face in both hands now to pet away the stress. His body calmed down enough to grasp a normal breathing pace. The last few tears were rubbed away by her before letting go. His eyes shot open at hearing his daughter babble from being picked up. Chest collapsing in on itself again from Rose being in her arms.

“She's fine.” Alcina reassured. “Follow me, we can talk.” In a few steps he was up on unsteady legs to follow her. Crossing over into the living room she sat on the couch before the fire. Pointing to the spot next to her. “sit.” smiling at him doing as he was told. She rubbed along his jaw in comforting praise. Setting the back of her palm under his chin to raise his head up. Feeling him roughly swallow between the twitching urge to flinch away. Avoiding her intent gaze to submissively stare at the floor or glance at his daughter. “you wanted to say something?”

Her question threw him back into a breakdown. If he had to beg, he would. However his voice was failing him. Eyes shut tightly he would have started to wheeze again if it weren't for her comforting words.

Holding a soft tone. “Calm, Mr. winters. She's perfectly safe.” waiting for his panic to settle enough for him to listen. “I don't harm children, they are a gift. Long as you stay here, you're both safe with me.”

His submissive posture tensed, eyes opening to challenge her through a glare. “That's not what I’ve experienced. I'm not risking my daughter. how do I know you won't do anything?”

“Doing this is going against mother Miranda. You saw her at the meeting. She's the one who wanted you both for the ceremony, or at least one of you. I sent my daughters out into the night, at the risk of their lives, to save her. Don't take my betrayal for you two, so lightly.” tapping his head before she was swatted away.

He rubbed the pain from the spot. “so, what is the ceremony?”

“What do you think?” a spark of light in her eye told him everything. “she didn't tell me what you were. If I had known I would have handled you with far more care.” lifting up his shirt to try and see his wounded side. Swatted away again she let out a chuckle. “and you're suppressed, but I smell no chemicals on you. so-” she left the rest unsaid.

Ethan swallowed, losing the last bit of moisture in his mouth. A blush threatened to form the longer he thought about it. He'd never been anywhere near an alpha. Being around her had awakened so much he never knew he was missing. Her calming scent grounded him instantly from a panic. Even now he was turned exhausted by fighting to stay alert. Wanting to pour out his soul of every worry he had. The nightmares that latched onto him in Louisiana. Mia couldn't give the stability he wanted so badly. Instincts telling him to submit to this beautiful alpha while a small crumb refused. No alpha could just saunter in to claim him without some sort of effort. Herding him to be trapped in a den away from other alphas wasn't good enough. Repeatedly stabbed and tortured by this demon. “I'll get out of here somehow before I let a monster like you near me. Fucking vile bi-”

“don't.” a deep guttural snarl shoved him back down into submissiveness. “Think carefully of what you're going to say. I'll remind you first, you're in my home. I saved your daughter from being torn apart into jars for mothers plans. I've put myself and my daughters lives on the line for you two. When we both know I didn't have to take that risk for your daughter.” pausing to the small child squirming in her arms. Their conversation turned too tense for her to stay quiet. Drawing closer to tears if Alcina hadn't done anything. A small glance and letting Rose grab her hand was enough to calm her down.

Ethan felt a pang of annoyance laced with jealousy at his daughter's reaction. Her own mother, Mia, could never get a reaction like that out of their daughter. This alpha who tormented him and threatened his life was joyfully being smiled at. Rose's reaction softened him into listening a little more, if only for now. She must like the lord for some reason he didn't understand.

Alcina took in a calming breath to cool the conversation down. “Whether its a few days or maybe a week. I doubt it's more than that.” speaking softly so that Rose would fall asleep between the conversation. “I'm patient, Winters. there aren't many of us left in the world. We may try to push our self's in saying we have no need for our other half. But we're still left miserable knowing somethings missing. Why run away to torture yourself like that all over again?”

He locked his gaze down, chin touching his chest to avoid meeting her gaze. His body crumpled low into the couch in a sad attempt at hiding. Leaning back when she leaned toward him. shaking at hearing his daughters tired mumbles. Swallowing his heart back down when she set Rose before him. Gripping tightly into the couch in wanting to move, but not until she said so.

“take her and go nest in the bed.”

It took less than a second for him to hold onto his daughter. Being far more hesitant to leave for the bed up until he saw that she wasn't moving. Wanting to avoid making her angry again after that warning snarl, he crawled into bed. Gingerly checking his daughter for any injuries he had to clear away the tears building in his eyes to see. Hugging her close when he knew she was okay. Sobs held back to not draw more attention on them he wanted to hide. Fighting the urge to make a run for it instead. Mind flashing through the facts of why that was a bad idea and hiding was better. She was still nearby watching him, past her he'd have to deal with the door. Solid wood with reinforced metal framing it. Her daughters would come running and then he'd have to deal with all four of them. He couldn't risk Rose through all of that. Glancing over his shoulder he couldn't see anything past the canopy. A thin line of light at its center divide, flickered with the fire. Facing forward he parted the bedding layers as deep as he could go. Burrowing under the pillows that gave a comforting weight over him. Back against the cool wooden headboard he curled down around his little girl.

“Hey sweetie, it'll be okay.” kissing the top of her head. “We'll get out of here and move someplace far away. Off grid where no one will know who we are. Nobody will take you then.” smiling at her touching his face. He rubbed along her back to warm her under the cool covers. Petting her head to soothe her to sleep while he kept guard. Exhausted after hours of paranoia that someone would grab them from under the covers. Tensing at the heavy door opening and shutting sometime in the early morning. Listening to hear anything else, it was quiet when the door opened again. Waiting briefly he knew the door wasn't shut. Shuffling the bedding to surround Rose in a makeshift crib he shifted out from under the layers. Watching the line between the curtains for a break in its light. Ducking down when the door loudly shut again. Hiding down long enough for his racing heart to steady. Peeking out again to listen, take in the scents and decide his next move. Glancing back toward where he hid Rose he got out from under the layers to delicately set everything back. If someone tried to find her he'd have time to interfere in their attempt.

Slipping out from the bed he searched for her from the doorway. Approaching further out into the room when he couldn't find her. Walking faster up to the door to inspect it. Tying the knob first. Of course it's locked. Eyes going down to his waist to grab something, hand stopped in the air. And I have nothing. Running off to another part of the room to try and find something he could use. A simple kitchen he looked for a knife of any kind. All the drawers empty except for basic plate ware. Checking the cabinets he paused at something left on the counter. A bottle of milk.

His shoulders slumped over its existence. He had to feed his little girl, but- what's in the bottle? Fear of the contents tainted by a poison to be rid of her. Swiping it off the counter he scrutinized it closer for anything amiss. Smelling it for anything chemical like, there was nothing amiss there. Popping off the lid to taste it next, it was nothing but regular goat's milk. Giving it a few minutes to settle in his stomach. Is that it? Stomach knotting … No? then going away. … Yes? Stomach knotting, then going away again. No? … Yes? Tossing back and forth for a few minutes. Settled that it was his nerves causing the twinge in his stomach. He returned to the bed, bottle in hand, to Rosemary. Gently he rubbed her chest until she woke. It'd been a whole day since he fed her and he didn't want to put it off a moment longer. She almost cried at having her sleep disturbed. Quieting down to latch onto the warm bottle. He smiled at watching her eat. “At least you're taken care of.” Ignoring his own hunger that his stolen apple from yesterday hadn't satisfied. Eyelids heavy on the lack of sleep catching up to him. Ugh, what to do? Resting his forehead down to quickly bring it back up. He couldn't fall asleep here, it wasn't safe.

Even more-so now than ever, unaware that Miranda had arrived. Alcina however, was prepared for mother Miranda's arrival. It was why she had to leave the den so early in the morning. Getting caught in a space that was “useless” to her would out her instantly. Leaving a bottle for Ethan to grab when he willingly came out. Her and her daughters treated today like any other. When Miranda burst in through the door to furiously demand Lady Dimitrescu they acted perfectly surprised.

Alcina greeted the other, holding back a smug. “Mother Miranda, why the visit?”

“That idiot Salvatore lost the child! You saw the man-thing last! Where is he?!” she roared at the other. Many black wings spread out in agitation.

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

i wanted to get some story's done and out by Halloween, but life's been kicking me in the ribs. this ones not finished, but has a good amount of chapters done. so here we go. :v//

[kariachi]

House arrest brand fic, early on in the concept. My trend of having Mike fail and of having Kevin heckle him continues.

~~

“So,” Kevin asked about four minutes into leaning on the back of the couch, watching over Mike’s shoulder, “is there a particular reason you’re buying what looks like half a wardrobe with money I know you don’t have to spare?”

“And how do you know I don’t have the money,” Mike countered, as if he wasn’t looking at items shocking close to shit he’d refused to even look at when his closet had first been filled. At first Kevin wasn’t willing to play that game, beggars couldn’t be choosers, but a few days of the guy going around the place naked had gotten him to agree to less cheap items. It would be a while yet before he looked good enough again for the view to be worth it.

“Because you don’t have access to your accounts and I’m the one funding your life. Now talk.” Silence reigned for a long moment, Kevin’s smirk growing wider by the heartbeat. “What happened to your clothes, Sparkles?” Almost idly, Mike put a pack of socks in his cart.

“Your mutt got into them,” he said.

“Uh-huh.” Kevin leaned further forward, to where he could be sure Mike would see the amusement on his face. “You fucked up your laundry, didn’t you?” After another long moment of pointed silence, he snorted a laugh and clapped him on the shoulder, ignoring the glower he got in return.

“I can already see myself never getting tired of this shit,” he said. “Once you’re done, show me the damage and I’ll tell you where you went wrong.” With what he would never admit was a huff, Mike shook off his hand and shifted a bit to the side, incredibly purposefully turning his attention back to his shopping. He nodded, just barely.

“You do that.” Another snort.

“Come on, richboy, you have to have been raised better than that.” Letting out a long exhale through his nose, Mike turned back to him, slipping on a very convincing mask of easy charm.

“Thank you,” he said, almost managing to seem like he wasn’t forcing it, “I would appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome,” Kevin said, smirk widening to a full toothy grin. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“You have no idea.” With another huff, Mike dropped the charade. “Now, if I can go back to my shopping?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Effortlessly shoving himself away from the couch, Kevin moved to grab a book off a shelf, dropping onto the other end of the couch with it to wait. “Hopefully you didn’t actually ruin them. I can introduce your vain ass to a little thing we peasants call ‘charity’…”

[aryaryxoxo]

Six Times You and Bakugou Were Forced Together — and the One Time He Chose To Be. #katsuki bakugou x fem!reader ⤷ After six chaotic summers of ruining each other’s vacations, you thought you were finally free. But the joke’s on you—because now you’re classmates. Same school. Same dorms. Same explosive rivalry. Turns out, the universe didn’t get tired of the drama. It just leveled it up. (7.7k)

Warning: I KNOW THAT BAKUGOU’S KIDNAPPING IS THE REASON WHY UA IMPLEMENT DORMS FOR THEIR STUDENTS BUT FOR THE SAKE OF THIS FANFIC AND MY SANITY WE AREN’T FOLLOWING THAT TIMELINE. FHAJFHSKFJKAFJS TRUST ME OKE FJAJFJAJD THIS IS A PART 2, you can read this as a standalone but some parts need context ajksndajndasa miscommunication at its finest? pls dont hate me ;-; Bakugou being a stubborn bitc-

1st - Being seated right next to each other

Mother always said she and Father were soulmates. The red string theory—proof of destiny. They met when they were young, but one had to move away. Gran and Pops believed America was better for their family.

Mother and Father were devastated. But despite the miles and differences—culture, time zones, even oceans—they found their way back to each other.

So, if someone asked you if you believed in soulmates? You’d say yes.

But a soulmate for love? Hah. Absolutely not. Soulmate of hate? Yes. And his name is Bakugou Katsuki.

Well… last year, something changed. You actually wanted to see him again. You wanted to race him to the pool, ride the waterslide until you both threw up, fight over snacks, and maybe—just maybe—see if that tension between you meant anything more than glares and name-calling.

But then there was the emergency. Your quirk flared, something went wrong, and you landed in the hospital. Three weeks confined. The doctors ordered full rest and observation. 

Mother and father are worried, they ordered no flying, no training, and definitely no UA.

You had to summon every ounce of strength—and stubbornness—to convince your parents to let you go to Japan. You fought. There was yelling. Crying. Accusations. But in the end, you won. Barely. 

Still, through all of it, you kept thinking about him. Bakugou.

Did he wait for you at the pool? Did he wonder why you never showed up?

If only your pride wasn’t as tall as Mount Fuji. If only you had taken the number his mom offered you. You could’ve sent one text. Just one.

But you didn’t.

Now here you are. Standing in front of Class 1-A. “…You can sit next to Bakugou Katsuki, since you already know each other,” Mr. Aizawa said, his eyes barely flicking toward you.

And just like that, twenty pairs of eyes pinned you as you walked toward the blond boy sitting near the window, arms crossed.

He didn’t say a word. Just watched as you pulled out your chair and sat beside him.

Mr. Aizawa immediately launched into the course expectations. But you couldn’t focus—not when the person you wanted to talk to was a solid wall of silence right next to you.

When the bell rang, the quiet filled room suddenly burst into conversation, getting to know each other and such. 

“OMG, how’s life in America?” a bright voice asked. You turned to see a pink-skinned girl grinning at you like you were already best friends. Two girls silently followed her from behind. 

You smiled politely. “Hot. Crowded. But okay, for the most part.”

“Sorry—I didn’t catch your names earlier,” you added, stifling a yawn. “I’m sorry if I arrive late. I just landed last night. Jet lag’s killing me.”

“You should rest first before throwing yourself into hero school,” said the calmer girl with black hair. “I’m Momo. That’s Mina, and Jirou.” She pointed between them.

You gave them a grateful smile. “Nice to meet you all.” But something shifted behind you. You could feel it. From the corner of your eye, you saw him—Bakugou—heading toward the door.

Your heart leapt before your pride could stop it. “Bakugou, wait!”

You followed him out into the hall. “Bakugou, you damn well know I’ll follow you even to hell,” you snapped, panting slightly, steps quickening until you caught up and blocked his path.

He halted. Hands in his pockets, hair messy as always, eyes unreadable.

“I’m sorry,” you said, breathless. “I’m sorry I made you wait. I didn’t mean to just disappear on you. There was something that happened—”

“I don’t care,” he cut in flatly.

Your words caught in your throat. Something cracked in you.

“…What?” you asked, voice trembling.

“I said I don’t care,” he repeated. “Now get the hell out of my face.”

It shattered something else. What the hell were those moments between you, then? Him comforting you when you panicked after getting lost in the woods? His quiet, genuine smile when he finally went down that stupid tall slide and you are there, waiting at the bottom?

You thought they meant something. But this was Bakugou. Of course they didn’t.

He stepped around you like you were nothing.

“Asshole!” you shouted, eyes burning.

“I know,” he muttered without turning back.

Yeah. Soulmate of hate. And that soulmate of hate just became your seatmate.

2nd - dorms are right next to each other

"Mom, I told you, I’m fine. I can unpack by myself. You don’t need to come all the way here just to help me organize my socks," you huffed, balancing your phone between your shoulder and cheek as you pushed open your dorm room door.

Your mother’s voice crackled on the other end, dramatic as ever. "I know, dear, but your father and I were thinking maybe we could help carry a few boxes... maybe set up your shelves, help you pick curtains—"

"Mother," you interrupted firmly, dragging a suitcase in with your free hand. "I’m here to become a pro-hero. If I can’t even move into a dorm on my own, what kind of hero would that make me?"

There was a pause. Then— "Oh my baby is growing up!" she wailed.

You sighed and let your forehead fall against the doorframe. “Okay, I love you, but I’m hanging up now.”

“Take pictures!” she shouted just before you ended the call.

You flopped onto your bed, face buried in the pillow, only to groan when you realized you hadn’t even opened the other suitcase. You sat up and—

SLAM

The door next to yours opened with a signature kind of violence you’d recognize in your sleep.

You froze.

Slowly—very slowly—you turned your head.

Sure enough, there he was.

Bakugou Katsuki.

You groaned into your pillow for the second time that hour. “No. Don’t tell me this is like the resort thing where you thought my room was yours.”

Bakugou, standing in your doorway like the world personally offended him, crossed his arms. “That wasn’t my fault. The receptionist gave me the wrong key,” he snapped, tone clipped. “And second—this is my room.”

You didn’t move. “You’re funny”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

You peeled yourself off the bed, grabbed your phone, and opened the email Mr. Aizawa had sent a few days ago.

“Mr. Aizawa said I’m in Room 401,” you said with confidence, scrolling quickly. “See? Right here. ‘Room 401.’ Boom.”

Still holding your phone, you stepped outside the room, ready to prove him wrong and compare the email to the number hanging next to the door.

But you froze.

There it was—right in front of you, nailed to the wall in bold, silver lettering:

Room 402.

“…Oh.” Your voice came out a little too small.

You turned your head to look at Bakugou, your pride deflating.

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t smirk. Didn’t yell. He just stepped into his room and dropped his stuff unceremoniously onto the bed, like he hadn’t just watched you dig your own grave in real time.

Good thing you hadn’t unpacked yet.

You quietly backed out of the wrong room, dignity dragging behind you as you made your way next door.

You muttered under your breath, “This doesn’t count as me admitting I’m wrong.”

No answer. 

You shut your door and stared at the wall that now separated your room from his.

Oh yeah. This was gonna be great. Not only was Bakugou your seatmate—he was also your dorm neighbor.

If this was the universe’s idea of a joke, it was a really cruel one.

…

Bakugou couldn’t sleep.

He tossed and turned, the blanket tangling around his legs like it was trying to suffocate him. He growled under his breath, flung the covers off, and sat up with a frustrated sigh.

This is so damn stupid, he thought, rubbing a hand down his face.

Giving up entirely on the idea of rest, he slipped out of bed and stepped onto the narrow balcony connected to his dorm. The night air was cool against his skin, a quiet contrast to the firestorm in his head.

Above him, the stars spilled across the sky like someone had cracked open the universe.

He stood there, arms resting against the railing, jaw clenched tight. He tried to think of anything else. School. Training. Tomorrow’s lesson. But his mind betrayed him—because it kept circling back to you.

To your face when you saw him again. To the way your voice cracked when you said sorry.  To the silence he gave you in return.

He knew he was a dick for ignoring you. He knew it.

But seeing you again, after you didn’t show up when you said you would… it made his heart twist in a way he didn’t know how to deal with.

I need sleep, he muttered to himself.

He was about to turn and go back inside when movement caught the corner of his eye.

He froze.

Just a few feet away—on the balcony next to his—you were there too. Barefoot, arms leaning on your own railing, eyes lifted to the stars like they had secrets you were trying to unravel.

You looked so peaceful. So lost in thought. So… you.

And you hadn’t noticed him yet.

Bakugou stood there quietly, gaze locked on you, and for a moment—just a brief, silent second—he let his guard down.

Damn it, he thought.

Because no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise, there was still something about you that pulled him in like gravity.

Bakugou reentered his dorm room, jaw tight, ready to sleep off the mess of thoughts spinning in his head. But then—he stopped. Something was sitting in the corner of his bed.

That stupid plushie.

Mr. Strawberry.

He stared at it for a moment, lips twitching in annoyance. Of course. Of course it ended up here. He could think of a million ways to get rid of it—toss it out the window, set it on fire, blast it into space. And yet… the first thing that came to mind was you.

How your eyes lit up when you held it. The way you hugged it like it held the entire world.

Bakugou groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Dumbass bear…”

Grumbling under his breath, he picked it up and marched out of his room. The hallway was quiet, moonlight slipping through the windows. He stopped in front of your door, hesitating just a second, before gently setting Mr. Strawberry down.

Not knocking. Not saying a word.

Just leaving it there for you to find.

3rd - somehow paired up for kitchen duty

“So, what’s up with you and Bakugou?” Mina asked casually, plopping down beside you at the dinner table, carrying a glass of water. 

You froze, spoon midair. Of course she’d ask. Someone had to.

It’s been a month since you transferred to U.A.

A month since you finally stepped into your dream school you’ve fought so hard for. And a month since you saw Bakugou again.  A month of him not saying a single word to you.

Despite sitting beside each other in class. Despite living one wall apart in the dorms. Despite brushing shoulders in the hallway, cafeteria, and training grounds.

It was strange. Uncanny, even.

Because every year during vacation, you’d see him. Like clockwork. You’d fight, race, dare each other to do stupid things by the pool. There was always something. Even last year—even when you didn’t show up—your thoughts still clung to him like chlorine on your skin. And when you saw each other again, in school of all places, you thought maybe… maybe something would’ve stayed. Would’ve meant something.

But now, you two were stuck in the same school for the next three years, and it was quiet. Too quiet.

You didn’t want to admit how bitter it felt. Didn’t want to acknowledge the tight knot in your chest every time he ignored you. Because he didn’t deserve your hurt. He was an asshole. Plain and simple.

You tried to explain yourself back then. You tried to say sorry and he just shut you down.

And the worst part? You still cared.

“Uh…” you finally responded, blinking out of your thoughts. “Nothing. There’s nothing between me and Bakugou.”

Mina raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of tension for nothing, girl.”

You forced a smile and took a bite of your porkchop. “Must be the air.”

“Okay, everyone!”

Tenya Iida, ever the earnest and booming class president, stood up from his seat, effectively cutting off your conversation with Mina.

Thank god.

You were grateful for the interruption. You needed any kind of distraction. Preferably one that didn’t involve Mina asking more questions about a certain blonde explosion boy.

“I have consulted Mr. Aizawa,” Iida announced, adjusting his glasses with dramatic flair, “and in the spirit of cooperation, balance, and fairness—we have concluded that there must be a sense of shared responsibility in this dorm!”

There were a few groans from the class. 

“Therefore!” he declared. “Every day, there will be two pairs of students responsible for breakfast and dinner. Since we all have lunch provided at school, this will ensure a consistent meal schedule and reinforce teamwork!”

He held up a neatly folded list like it was the Holy Grail.

“I have already assigned these pairs, and I will now read them aloud in the order of rotation.”

Mina leaned toward you and whispered, “Watch me get paired with Sero and burn the kitchen down.”

You smiled a little, just as Iida started rattling off names.

“Kirishima and Kaminari! You two are first.”

“Aw yeah!” Kaminari fist-pumped. “Let’s make curry for breakfast!”

“Tokoyami and Shoji. Second.”

“…Understood,” Tokoyami said, mysteriously.

You zoned out a bit as the list went on, your attention drifting, until—

“Bakugou Katsuki and [Your Name]. You two will be the fourth pair. Thursday.”

You snapped back to reality so fast you almost dropped your spoon.

You turned your head slowly—and of course, he was already looking at you from across the room, jaw tight, eyes unreadable.

Great. Cooking. Together. In a kitchen. For everyone. With knives.

You blinked. Once. Twice.

“Excuse me?” you raised your hand slowly. “How long are we paired up for breakfast and dinner?”

Iida didn’t miss a beat. “Until next term.”

You stared.

“Until… next term?” you repeated, voice rising half a pitch.

Iida smiled, utterly unaware of the quiet panic blooming behind your eyes. “Correct! I believe consistency will help build better cooperation and minimize confusion. That is the goal, after all!”

You sat down in slow motion, hands flat on the table.

From across the room, you could feel the weight of Bakugou’s stare, hot and heavy and already annoyed.

What could possibly go wrong?

(Everything. The answer was everything.)

…

Thursday came. Oh, how the days had flown by—fast, merciless, and leading you straight into doom.

You were enjoying the last shred of peace you’d know before the battle came storming in.

It was 6 a.m. The sky was still yawning. Your soul is already crying. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, hyping yourself up like you were about to face a villain instead of eggs and toast.

You took a deep breath, left your dorm, and stepped into the elevator. When the doors slid open to the communal kitchen floor—you saw him.

Already there. Already prepping. Already ignoring your entire existence.

He had the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up (which you totally didn’t find it hot, totally), a pan already sizzling, and that signature why-are-you-breathing-in-my-space scowl planted firmly on his face.

Of course he didn’t consult you about what to make. Why would he?

It’s not like this was a pair assignment or anything. Or not like communication was key to teamwork. Nope.

You walked in and cleared your throat.

He didn’t even look at you.

“Good morning to you too, Gordon Ramsay,” you muttered.

“What?” he barked, barely glancing your way.

“Nothing. Just admiring how we apparently live in your kitchen now.”

“Tch. Just don’t get in my way.”

You rolled your eyes and walked over to the fridge. If he wanted to act like he was running a five-star restaurant, fine. You’d start prepping the side dishes. At least someone had to make sure the toast didn’t turn into charcoal.

He didn't thank you. You didn't expect him to.

But as the smell of breakfast filled the dorm and the sun peeked over the horizon—you both moved around each other, wordlessly in sync.

It was annoying. How natural it felt. You hated it. (You didn’t.)

You were setting the table, carefully arranging plates, utensils, and the food you helped finish (even if he barely acknowledged your existence during it). The scent of grilled fish and rice was comforting, and for a moment, you almost forgot you were cooking with Bakugou.

Almost.

You turned around to grab the napkins—

—and walked straight into him.

“Ah—!” you yelped, recoiling as the side of the miso soup pot brushed your arm.

It didn’t spill—thank god—but the heat still licked your skin.

Bakugou barely flinched. His reflexes were too sharp, too quick. He gripped the pot tighter, steadying it before it could tip.

“Dumbass,” he muttered sharply. “Watch where you’re going.”

You hissed through your teeth, shaking your arm. “I did—I didn’t know you were right behind me! You didn’t announce you were carrying—who the hell carries boiling soup around like that?!”

He glared. “People who actually do something instead of pretending to be useful.”

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

He moved past you, setting the soup down roughly on the table.

“You’re such an ass,” you muttered under your breath—but loud enough.

“I heard that.”

“Good.”

Your arm was still stinging a little, but you didn’t let him see it. He didn’t apologize. Of course he didn’t.

But when everyone started filtering in for breakfast—complimenting the food and surprised it wasn’t a complete disaster—you noticed something odd.

Bakugou didn’t sit down right away. He hovered in the kitchen a bit longer.

Then, when he finally took his seat, he slid something across the table toward you without a word.

A small pack of burn ointment.

You blinked.

He didn’t look at you. He just shoved rice in his mouth like nothing happened.

You stared at the ointment. Then at him. Then back down.

Maybe, just maybe, this day was successful.

4th - you and Bakugou both end up in detention

You’re not a violent person. Really, you aren’t.

You bow to elders. You pour their tea with both hands like your mother taught you. You accept when you’re wrong. You apologize when you make a mistake. You don’t raise your voice. You don’t raise your hand.

...Well. That’s a lie. A small one. With two very specific exceptions.

First, there was the time a certain blonde menace with a god complex and an anger issue decided it was perfectly acceptable to grip your beloved stuffed toy—Mr. Strawberry—by the neck like he was squeezing the life out of it.

You had warned him. You had politely asked, "Give him back". Bakugou didn’t listen. So you launched yourself at him, tackling him like a linebacker.

Second, and more importantly, was the reason you were now in detention.

To be fair—you warned that guy too. The random jerk from Class 1-C or whatever, who thought it was funny to call Mina names. Said she looked like a clown with skin problems. Said she was a “failed science experiment.” Then he turned on you. Called you “transfer trash” and said Bakugou must be so unlucky to be stuck with you all the time.

You gave him three warnings. Then you gave him a fist to the eye and a knee to the groin.

"Again, Mr. Aizawa," you said with your hands folded like a model student, "I only hurt him twice. One in the eye. One in the manhood. That’s all."

Mr. Aizawa didn’t blink. "Then explain to me," he deadpanned, "why he's in Recovery Girl with a broken nose and fractured wrists?"

Your eyes widened, scandalized. "I said I didn’t do that!" you yelled at your teacher.

Okay. Maybe a third exception.

But before you could argue back—really argue back—the door burst open.

And in walked your first exception.

Bakugou Katsuki, looking just as pissed off as you were. Maybe more. Jaw tight, shoulders tense.

He didn’t say a word. Just marched over to the unoccupied chair beside you and dropped into it.

Mr. Aizawa barely lifted an eyebrow. "What did you do this time, Bakugou?"

Before Bakugou could answer, Snipe entered, striding in like he just finished dealing with a forest fire. "Not only did he arrive late for my class, he also kept provoking everyone. Ignored direct orders. Nearly set off an explosion indoors," Snipe rattled off with the tone of someone who's been through this many times before. "That's a third strike. I'm formally requesting detention."

Bakugou scoffed, arms crossed. "They were talking shit first."

"And you decided to answer with grenades," Snipe shot back, dry.

Mr. Aizawa sighed the sigh of a man who regretted all his life choices. "Great," he muttered. "Just what I needed." Then he looked at both of you. "You two. Same time. Same place. One week of detention."

You blinked. "Together?!"

Bakugou snapped his head toward you. "What the hell are you doing here?"

You glared. "Serving justice with a side of righteous fury."

"Sounds like assault," he muttered.

"Sounds like shut up," you snapped back.

Mr. Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose. "If either of you speaks again, I’m extending it to two weeks."

Silence.

You leaned back in your chair, arms folded. Bakugou mirrored you—same posture, same scowl.

Yeah. This was gonna be fun.

…

“Mr. Aizawa, what are we even doing here?” you groaned, dragging your feet behind him like a ghost with sore legs. “I literally can’t feel my arms from training. Pretty sure my spleen filed a complaint.”

Aizawa didn’t look back. “Because,” he said flatly, “you two are going to clean up the mess you made earlier.”

You blinked. “What mess—” Oh. Right. You and Bakugou managed to destroy four punching dummies and one reinforced wall panel during your totally accidental sparring match-turned-world-war.

(Okay. Maybe you threw the first kick. Maybe Bakugou exploded it.)

You glanced at Bakugou, who had the audacity to look proud.

“I need this entire training room spotless by tonight,” Aizawa said, stopping at the entrance of Gym Gamma. He turned to you both, his voice level but threatening. “Floors scrubbed, gear cleaned, the storage shelves reorganized. And no fighting. If I hear so much as a grunt, it’s another week.”

Then he walked off like the drama king he was.

You turned to Bakugou. He turned to you.

And at the same time, you both muttered, “This is your fault.”

Some time later, you were off in your own little corner of hell, surrounded by dust and mess. Boxes were scattered all over the training room, and for some reason, it had become your job to stack and organize them—because Bakugou was somewhere else, doing god knows what, probably blowing something up.

You huffed and wiped your forehead. Your arms were jelly, your legs were shaking, but your pride? Still intact. So you grabbed another box. Heavy as hell. Probably filled with gym weights or metal, because of course, your luck sucks.

You staggered forward, muscles screaming, vision blurring slightly from exhaustion.

Almost there.

Almost—And then your arms gave out.

Crash.

The box came down hard—slamming against your shoulder, the edge smacking into your cheekbone on the way down. You hit the floor with a thud, breath knocked from your lungs.

“Shit,” you hissed, clutching your face as your eyes watered. You weren’t sure what hurt more—your pride or the throbbing burn spreading across your cheek.

Footsteps thundered behind you. “Oi—what the hell was that?” Bakugou’s voice rang out, sharp and angry. But when he turned the corner and saw you crumpled on the ground, his expression shifted for a split second—just long enough for concern to flash in his eyes before the scowl came back twice as strong.

“You’re an idiot,” he muttered, crouching beside you. “You could’ve brained yourself, dumbass.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, trying to sit up.

“Yeah, sure. Tell that to your face.” He reached out before you could argue and tilted your chin slightly, inspecting the red, already-swelling mark on your cheek. His hand was rough but careful, thumb grazing your skin like it might crack if he pressed too hard.

You blinked at him, stunned. Was he... worried?

He stood, brushing the dust off his pants, and stomped away.

You expected him not to come back.

It made sense, didn’t it? After all, you were the one who never showed up that day. You were the one who made him wait. If he left you here now, it would’ve been fair. Predictable, even.

So when the familiar sound of his boots returned just seconds later, your head snapped up in surprise.

He dropped to one knee beside you again, avoiding eye contact as he shoved a cold pack into your hands.

“Next time, don’t be stupid,” he muttered.

You stared at him. The cold pack in your hand. The way he wouldn’t look at you.

“…You came back.”

His jaw tightened. His eyes flicked toward you for a second—just a second—then looked away like he’d been burned.

“Shut up,” he said.

But he didn’t leave. He just sat there, beside you, legs stretched out on the floor, arms crossed.

The air between you was fragile. Like something about to break. All the bitterness, all the tension — it hung between you like a string pulled taut.

You wanted to speak up. To explain. To finally say why you didn’t show up at the resort that day.

“I didn’t—” you started, your voice soft. “That day, I—”

But before the words could fully leave your lips—

“I thought I was going to see you two for another week,” came Mr. Aizawa’s dry voice as he appeared behind you, arms crossed. You and Bakugou jolted slightly at his sudden arrival.

“Looks like I was wrong,” Aizawa continued, raising a brow. “One busted cheek, zero broken furniture. That’s progress. Go see Recovery Girl.”

He turned, already walking away. “Detention’s over. Try not to destroy anything or someone else.”

You looked down at the cold pack still pressed to your face, then over at Bakugou.

He was already looking at you. And this time, he didn’t look away.

5th - you and Bakugou were to compete against each other during the sports festival

"Now that’s an explosion if I’ve ever seen one!" Present Mic’s voice echoed through the roaring stadium. The crowd was electric—but none of it mattered to you. Not right now.

You needed an entrance. And fast.

It was the U.A. Sports Festival. The entire school had been preparing for this moment, training endlessly. But if you were being honest with yourself, you were more prepared than most.

Because for you, this wasn’t just about school spirit. This was a declaration.

A chance to prove—to the world, but especially to your parents—that you deserved to be a pro-hero.

That you were enough.

You could still hear their words, sharp and unyielding, echoing in the back of your mind. “You’re not cut out for this.” “You’ll just get hurt.” “You’re not like the others.”

You clenched your fists, forcing those memories down, locking them away. Not today.

Another explosion cracked across the field. The stadium shook. Your heart did too.

Of course, it had to be him.

Out of everyone you could face in the finals… it had to be Bakugou Katsuki.

You’d scraped past Todoroki in the semis—a narrow victory, but a victory nonetheless. You earned your place here.

But now you stood across from Bakugou, the embodiment of raw power and intensity. And he looked like he was ready to burn down the sky. He was charging toward you like a storm, feet pounding against the arena floor, eyes locked on you with that explosive determination only Bakugou could wear. 

You were near the edge of the line, counting silently—one, two—calculating every breath, every beat.  If you timed this just right… And you did. Just before he could strike, you twisted your body out of reach with perfect precision, grabbed his arm mid-motion, and used his own momentum against him. 

You shoved him toward the edge, and for the first time, he hesitated. You saw it in his eyes—the sharp realization that he was cornered. You raised your arm, ready for the final blow that would win you the match. 

But then it hit—that memory so vivid it stole the air from your lungs. You were at the dinner table, the scent of your mother’s cooking curling in the air, laughter echoing, your dad teasing you over a too-full bowl of rice. 

It was warm, familiar—too familiar. Then, suddenly, the laughter faded. The food soured in your mouth. Your skin began to burn, your body overwhelmed from the inside out. Your quirk spiraled out of control. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream. 

And in the present, right there in the arena, you felt that same terrifying flare building in your chest. Panic clawed at your throat—this was bad. One blow and you could hurt him—really hurt him. And the thought of that—of hurting him—made something inside you shatter. 

So you did the only thing you could. You turned and ran. You ran from the edge, from the crowd, from your victory. You ran from Bakugou—because you couldn’t lose control. Not with him standing that close.

…

Bakugou was pissed—no, furious. What the hell was that? One second you had him cornered, about to land the finishing blow, and the next… you ran. Straight out of the arena. It didn’t even feel like a win—more like a slap in the face. 

The moment the match ended and they declared him the victor by default, his blood started to boil. He didn’t want a win like that. He wanted a real fight, a real answer. So he stormed down the hallway, heading straight for the changing area where he knew you’d be. 

His footsteps echoed sharply off the walls, matching the rhythm of his heartbeat, erratic with frustration. But just as he rounded the corner, he heard it—someone from another class, laughing too loud, too smug. 

“She ran because she was a pussy,” the idiot sneered. That was the final straw. 

“You!” Bakugou barked, voice slicing through the air like a grenade going off. The kid froze. “She made it to the finals, and you couldn’t even get past the first challenge. So shut the fuck up.” He didn’t even wait for a response. 

The student stood frozen, confused and stunned, as Bakugou shoved past, storming toward the changing room with every intention of getting answers—from you.

He kicked open the door with a force that made the whole room shake, and there you were—sitting silently, staring straight ahead like you were trying to disappear. When you finally turned to look at him, the weight of everything hit him all at once. His voice cracked with frustration and pain as he blurted out, “What the fuck was that?!”

You swallowed hard, your voice trembling but steady as you said, “I’m sorry.”

But that only ignited something fiercer inside him. His eyes burned with anger and confusion, and before he could think twice, he snapped, “Do you think you’re better than me? That you can just run away like that? Or are you that desperate, huh?!”

The moment the words left his mouth, his chest tightened with regret. He hadn’t meant to say it like that—he didn’t want to hurt you. But the damage was done.

A suffocating silence filled the room, thick and heavy like a storm about to break.

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with tears you were trying so hard to hold back. Your voice, once soft, now held a sharp edge as you fired back, “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Bakugou. So maybe you should shut the fuck up before you embarrass yourself.”

Then, almost breaking, you whispered, “What did I do to you?”

Your question hung in the air, raw and aching—an echo of all the pain neither of you wanted to face. But you didn’t wait for an answer. You turned away, each step heavy with heartbreak, leaving him standing alone in the room, the silence swallowing him whole.

And in that moment, Bakugou knew—he had fucked up, and this time, it felt like he might have lost you for good.

6th - getting kidnapped together

This was hell. Scratch that—this was worse than hell. If Bakugou had known the “training camp” involved team-building games, getting partnered up with other extras, and fake survival scenarios in the middle of nowhere, he would’ve exploded his way out before they even packed.

Bakugou gritted his teeth, arms crossed as he stood in the clearing surrounded by trees and idiots. Mina was bouncing around with a box of paper slips like it was a party game. “Partner draw time!” she called out, way too excited for his liking. “Everyone pick a name!”

“Tch.” He didn’t even try to hide his irritation. “This is so damn stupid.”

“Aw, c’mon man, just go with it,” Kirishima said, slapping his back like they were best friends or something.

Bakugou sighed through his nose and grabbed a slip of paper. His eyes scanned the name—and his whole body immediately tensed.

It was yours. After the whole debacle at the sports fest, you two weren’t talking anymore—scratch that, you weren’t talking to him. Which, honestly, he didn’t blame you. It was kind of funny how the tables had turned.

Across the clearing, Bakugou caught sight of you staring down at your own slip of paper. You looked so pissed off. Then your eyes lifted—and locked onto his. Neither of you looked thrilled.

“Wait— you two?!” Mina’s voice cut through the quiet, full of shock. She was well aware of the strange shift between you and Bakugou.

“It’s okay, Bakugou, I can take—”

“It’s fine, Mina. It’s for the sake of this camp,” You interrupted, voice low but firm.

The two of you started walking down the dark, barely lit pathway. The air between you was thick with awkward silence—neither of you said a word.

The mission was simple: work with your randomly assigned partner, use a crappy map to reach your destination, and avoid any “ambushes” set up by the teachers. Easy. Tedious. Pointless.

But then it all went sideways.

The ground shook. There was a loud bang in the distance—too real, too raw. Someone screamed. Smoke poured through the trees.

“Shit,” Bakugou muttered, yanking you behind him as his palms flared with heat. “That’s not a fuckin’ drill.”

It wasn’t. A real villain showed up—one who’d warped in through some kind of black mist. The two of you fought hard, but there was something in the air. A gas. His movements slowed, your limbs heavy, his vision doubled. And then, everything went dark.

...

When Bakugou woke up, everything ached. His head was pounding. His wrists were bound behind his back. The air was damp, heavy with mold and dust.

He was on the cold floor of what looked like a storage basement. Concrete walls, broken light above. Dim. Quiet. Except for the sound of breathing next to him.

You.

You stirred, groaning softly as you sat up, only to realize you were tied too. Your eyes widened when you saw him, and he hated the way your face tensed in fear for just a second before you masked it.

“You okay?” he rasped. You nodded slowly. “Yeah… I think so. Where are we?”

“No idea.” He shifted, testing the ropes. Tight. Bastards knew what they were doing.

You looked around, gaze sharp despite everything. “Did they say anything? Do anything?”

He hesitated. “No.” Then, muffled voices came from outside the door. “You said we only needed the boy,” one of them said. “Why did you bring the girl too?”

Bakugou froze. Every muscle in his body locked. They didn’t even mean to take you. You were an accident. A casualty. And it was his fucking fault. “I’ll handle it,” another voice replied coldly.

Then silence.

Minutes ticked by. You didn’t speak. Neither did he. But he counted. 1,829 seconds. He knew because he needed something—anything—to keep control.

He broke the quiet first.

“I’m sorry for saying those words,” Bakugou said quietly, his voice rougher than usual. “There was too much going on and I took it out on you”

“It’s okay,” you reassured gently. “You didn’t know what was going on.”

Another silence settled between you, heavy and tense.

Then, gathering his courage, he broke it again—this time asking the one question he’d been dying to ask but had been too cowardly to voice, too scared of the answer.

“Why didn’t you show up?” His voice was low, almost cautious.

Bakugou saw you inhale shakily, struggling to hold yourself together. “I was eating with my parents. One last meal in our house before we headed to the airport and went to the resort. Then—out of nowhere—my quirk just spun out of control.”

A tear slid down your cheek. Bakugou wants to reach out and wipe it away.

“It hurt. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t do anything but watch it control me. I—” Your voice cracked. “I hurt my parents. And then I passed out.”

You sniffed, your voice breaking as you continued. “The doctor told me there’s little research about quirks turning on their own users. My parents were scared. They told me I wasn’t going to attend UA anymore. That I wasn’t going to be a pro-hero.”

Another tear slipped free.

“I was so mad. I’ve spent my whole life working my ass off, trying to get strong enough, trying to be good enough for UA. And then just like that… one night. One freak accident. And it was all gone.”

You let out a bitter laugh—short, sharp.

“I had to beg them to let me come. Had to scream, argue, cry. I pulled everything I had left just to get on that damn plane.”

Bakugou said nothing, but he didn’t look away either.

“But I’m also scared… because what if they were right? What if I’m not fit to be a pro-hero? What if my quirk turns on me again? What if I hurt—” You choked on your words, tears spilling freely now, full-blown crying.

He shifted closer, just enough that your shoulders nearly touched. “Is that why you didn’t use your quirk?” he asked quietly. You nodded.

“Hey,” he said, voice low but firm, “ You’re way stronger than before. Hell, you’re stronger than all those extras combined.”

He paused, watching your face carefully, making sure you were listening. “You fought to be here. You survived everything. And that’s why you’ll be a pro-hero.”

Bakugou wanted to wrap his arms around you, to hold you tight—anything to make you feel whole again, to remind you how much you mattered. 

“I’m sorry—,” he muttered, but you cut him off. “Bakugou, I said it’s okay,” you smiled gently, trying to ease the tension.

“For making you do detention,” he continued, finally meeting your eyes. You could see the hesitation in his gaze, and your confusion only deepened.

“What are you talking about—?”

“I’m the one who broke that asshole’s— the one who insulted you and that pink-haired girl—his nose and wrist.” He said it quickly, as if ripping off a band-aid. “The reason why you got detention.”

Your mouth dropped open as the realization hit you like a slap. “Oh my god— is that why you were late?!?” You didn’t even realize you’d leaned into him until your shoulder bumped against his, playful but full of disbelief.

“You idiot,” you breathed, stunned, but a laugh bubbled up anyway—uncontrollable and light.

“Why did you do it?” you asked, your voice cracking between a whisper and a giggle. You bit your lip, trying not to laugh too loud.

Bakugou looked away again, needing to— you were too adorable trying to hold back your laughter. His jaw tightened, and his cheek twitched.

“Well,” he muttered, “he was a dick.”

You let out a soft huff of laughter, shaking your head.

“He kept running his mouth even after you kneed his—uh, you know. Then he said something about you. Something really shitty. And I saw red. I punched his face again.” He paused, remembering how furious he’d been when he heard what that bastard said about you, how he couldn’t control himself when he threw that first punch. Then, quieter, he added, “When he tried to swing back, I broke his wrist.”

He could feel you staring at him, your laughter now mixed with something warmer—admiration, maybe. He finally looked back at you, wanting to see your face again.

His chest tightened at the sight of your smile.

“You’re unbelievable,” you whispered, still smiling as you leaned your head back against the cold wall.

He didn’t say anything, just stared a second longer.

“Thanks,” you added softly, almost afraid to say it out loud. “For sticking up for me. And for Mina.”

This time, he didn’t shrug it off. He just muttered, “Tch. No one talks shit about you.” And he damn well made sure of it.

But this moment—this happiness—was brutally short-lived. The door slammed open with a harsh, unforgiving bang that echoed through the cramped room. Two men stood silhouetted in the doorway—one wearing a cold, expressionless mask, the other with no face at all, just a swirling black mist where his head should have been.

Without hesitation, the masked man strode forward and yanked you roughly by the arm, dragging you away from Bakugou. You stumbled, struggling to resist, but his grip only tightened, unforgiving and strong.

Meanwhile, the black-mist figure knelt beside Bakugou and, with an effortless motion, loosened his restraints as if they were nothing.

They didn’t say a word as they led both of you out of the cramped room and into what looked like a rundown bar—dimly lit, thick with dust, and lined with flickering neon signs that barely clung to life. You twisted your wrists desperately, trying to break free, but the masked man’s hold squeezed even tighter. A sharp yelp escaped you.

Bakugou saw red—his blood boiling hotter than ever.

“Hurt her, and I’ll kill you!” Bakugou’s voice exploded through the room, fierce and unwavering, cutting through the tension like a lightning strike.

I need a plan. Fast. I need to get her out of here, Bakugou thought, heart pounding. He had to get you out of danger. He could blast them all—no problem—but that prick was way too fast.

Ding!

“Pizza delivery!”

One Time He Chose To Be

Bakugou stood outside your hospital room, gripping Mr. Strawberry in one hand as he stared at the door like it might bite him. After the heroes rescued both of you from the League of Villains, you had suddenly collapsed in his arms. The doctors said you inhaled the majority of the gas—it wasn’t lethal, but it was enough to knock you out.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and finally pushed the door open.

This was the second time he’d seen you since then. The first was… chaotic. Nurses, his teacher, and a few classmates had practically dragged him out of the room, needing a crater’s worth of force just to pry him away from your side.

Now, the second time.

He had gone all the way back to the dorms just to grab that stupid plushie you wouldn’t sleep without. Had to practically do parkour through campus and dodge paparazzi like a ninja to avoid answering their invasive questions.

And now—there you were. Sitting up in bed, wrapped in blankets, watching cartoons on the hospital TV. You smiled at a joke on screen, soft and unguarded. His heart thudded a little too fast.

Sensing him, you turned, lowering the volume.

“Bakugou! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be resting?” you asked, carefully shifting your body to face him.

He stepped closer and extended the plushie toward you. “I’m here because I know you can’t sleep without him.”

You blinked, touched. “You went all the way back for Mr. Strawberry?”

He shrugged, eyes darting away. “Tch. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

But it was a big deal. And the way your fingers curled around the plushie, the way your eyes softened, told him you knew that too.

“Thank you… for bringing him,” you said softly, hugging Mr. Strawberry close as you looked at him. “You should be the one getting comforted, you know. The League of Villains is after you, and yet here you are… comforting me instead.”

You tried to tease, but both of you knew there was truth in your words.

You shifted to the side, making room. “After all the crap you’ve been through, you’re the one who deserves to be comforted.”

Bakugou got the message, wordlessly sitting beside you. “I know you’re probably sick of me apologizing, but I want to say sorry again—”

He didn’t finish. Because your lips pressed against his, gentle but certain.

When you pulled back, a smile tugged at your lips. “I think that’s the best way to get you to stop apologizing.”

Bakugou stared at you, stunned for a second. You watched the flicker of emotion cross his face, his jaw clenching slightly—not in anger, but in something raw and overwhelmed.

“I think,” you continued softly, “us getting stuck with each other, ending up together every vacation… I think the universe is trying to tell us something.”

Bakugou dipped his head down, resting his forehead gently against yours. His voice was low, almost a grumble, but the softness in it made your heart skip.

“That, don’t be stupid… and just get together already.”

You let out a breathy laugh, teasing, “Together already? Maybe ask me on a date first?”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, the corners of his lips twitching upward.

“Then…” he said, clearing his throat. “Would you go out with me?”

“Bakugou—” you started, but he cut you off, voice lower than usual, almost gentle.

“Call me Katsuki.”

Your lips curled into a slow, genuine grin, the kind that reached your eyes. You didn’t miss a beat.

“Of course, I would go out with you,” you said softly, letting the name roll off your tongue like it belonged there. “Katsuki.”

...

A/N: so umm, the fanfic writer curse (idk what the name) is true, bcs why tf am i writing this in the ER, almost die—TWICE (this is separate from the er. My mother is finally getting the help she needs :>) and i’m having imposter syndrome BECAUSE IM ACTUALLY BEING APOINTED AS THE EDITOR IN CHIEF ?!?!?!?!?!? FUCK

Taglist: @theysaidhush @magicalrainbowfish @watu2ka @rixiieee @shewki @bugg777 @d4wnyjlk @biodegradablevagina @suksatoru @lillyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @bruleecream @badslittlemuffin @mewwccury @blueemochii @iris-nights @well-yeahs-blog @rikidaze @ayoulookingfine @gina239 @lvc-lv @getosh0e @intimidaid @jealousmartini (just comment if you want to be added on my taglist >⩊< )

[dailynnt]

NO MERCY PART I: The dark pulls you under

𖥔 Summary: You are a strong and intelligent, a princess of a mafia clan who has been fighting for years against Jungkook, a dangerous and powerful enemy. Your enmity is mixed with tension and mutual desire. After you ruin an important deal for him, Jungkook kidnaps you to settle the score. An emotional confrontation erupts between you, where the power play borders on a dangerous attraction. But you both know that the first one to give in is the loser.

𖥔 Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

𖥔 Age restrictions: 18+

𖥔 Size: mini series (7.6 k words)

𖥔 Tags: enemies to lovers, mafia au, domJungkook/subReader, stockholm syndrome, dark romance, kidnapping, emotional tension, obsession, possessive behaviour, dangerous love, protectiveness, forced proximity, broken characters, betrayal, manipulation, slow burn, angst with a hint of love, toxic romance, redemption arc, intense connection, forbidden feelings, survival, rough tenderness, detailed smut, sex, unprotected sex, table sex, mirror sex, possessiveness, defiance

𖥔 From author: Hello dear Army 💜 I wrote a new story in the style of the mafia au, which as you know I love very much 🖤 I came up with this story while writing chapter 14 “One night…” (this is how it happens when in the middle of the creative process a scene for a separate story appears in my head) and I decided to write it. I really hope you like it 🥺 A big request for those who will read and at some point you don't like my fanfic, or it seems illogical, not interesting or too fictional - just pass by. Respect the effort, time and resources I have spent for those people who will really appreciate my efforts. I sincerely thank EVERYONE who likes this fic, and EVERYONE who likes my work, I appreciate each of you for the weight of gold 🥺😭❤️‍🔥

𖥔 Dedication: I want to dedicate this work to you my BIGGEST LOVE @curse-of-art 🖤 For your support, endless love, faith in me, in the love of my version of JK 🤭 I love you with all my big heart ❤️‍🔥

𖥔 Warning: This story contains dark themes that may be triggering for some readers like table sex, mirror sex, possessiveness, defiance/bratty behavior, stockholm syndrome, and kidnapping. Please read with caution. If you are under 18, please refrain from reading this story. Also, English is not my first language, so you may notice some grammar mistakes or awkward sentence structures. I appreciate your understanding and kindness 🙂‍↕️

You have never asked for mercy. And you certainly weren't going to beg for it now.

Some time ago, you woke up and realized that you were in a dimly lit hotel room. It seemed to be a presidential suite, and you probably knew who it belonged to.

You were sitting tied to a chair, your hands tied behind your back, and a sneer playing on your lips. You knew who was coming. You knew this meeting was inevitable.

Jungkook entered the room quietly, but you felt him before you saw him. His presence was like an impending storm, like an electric shock in the air before a thunderstorm.

"Well, finally." You looked up at him when he came into view. "I was getting tired of waiting for you."

Tall, broad-shouldered, with a palm covered in tattoo ink that peeked out from under the sleeve of his shirt colour of night.

You knew that most of the drawings were hidden under his clothes. Once you could only see his tattoos up to his elbow, and you always wondered how they ended.

You remember how the tiger lily on the inside of his arm caught your attention the most - delicate, but as bold as he was. It was his birth flower, a symbol of pride, nobility, and strength hidden behind a reserved expression.

His light colored hair was slicked back carelessly, and above his ear it was shaved, so you could see that his hair color was actually black. This hairstyle emphasized his sharp features and jaw that could cut through the tension in the air. The black earrings in his ears glittered with every movement.

"You made a mistake, Y/N." He was approaching like lava, slowly burning everything in his path. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, but you had to behave with dignity.

"Really? From my side, it looked like a perfectly planned trap." You said, hinting at the reason you were here. You smiled at the corner of your mouth. You didn't want to show this man how he affected you.

He crouched down in front of you. He smelled of cold freshness after a shower, mixed with something more personal - the tart scent of leather and spices.

There was a slight hint of bergamot in his scent, subtly mixed with the smell of black tea and a little wood, something deep and rich. There was also a faint trace of musk, the kind that made the skin react as if it had just been touched.

This scent was not intrusive, but dangerous in its restraint, just like him. It was the kind of scent that would stay on your pillow, on your fingers, on the inside of your wrist if you let it get close enough.

"And who is trapped now?" he asked. You smiled as you looked into his black eyes.

"Caught doesn’t mean defeated." You say and see his gaze boring into your lips. Your breathing instantly became uncontrollable.

You've always played this game. You made him lose control. He made you feel your body burning with anger. You wanted to break him, he wanted to conquer you.

But predators don't subdue. They either win or die.

You remember the moment when everything went wrong. You were sitting in the VIP lounge of the club, waiting for your sister to celebrate your brilliant victory. The deal that Jungkook wanted so badly was now yours. That's when the door slammed open, and they came for you.

Everything happened in a flash. People in black suits easily dealt with your bodyguards. They grabbed you, clamped your mouth, tied your hands, and in a few minutes you were sitting in a car. Without a word. Without the right to choose. And only then did you realize...

Jungkook is angry. Really angry. And then the prick in your neck and the darkness.

He stared at you for a long time, too long. Jungkook towered over you before he spoke. His voice was low and steady, but it vibrated with a dangerous note that sent a chill down your spine.

"You have no idea how much trouble you've caused me." His voice sounded calm, but it was seeping with menace.

You just tilted your head slightly, playfully, with a self-assurance that irritated him.

"If you're talking about how I took the deal with the Japanese partners away from you, I was expecting more fireworks, to be honest."

Something dark flashed in his eyes, something you'd seen many times before - rage hidden beneath an icy mask of control.

You and Jungkook had never been friends. You had known each other for years, but you had always been on opposite sides of the war.

You were the princess of the “Violet Dragons” clan. Your parents were the leaders of the clan, so from childhood, you knew what the world of shadows was and how to survive in it.

Your family controlled part of the city’s illegal business — casinos, underground clubs, and exclusive weapons trade.

You grew up smart, cunning, and ruthless, just like your parents, who unfortunately became victims of mafia conflicts.

You possessed that dangerous beauty that made men forget you could destroy them with a smile on your lips.

You remember well when Jungkook appeared. It was when your uncle took over the clan and you became his right-hand man.

He saw your potential, trusted your sharp mind and strategic thinking. In the mafia world, a woman could not officially lead, but she could guide. And you did it brilliantly. You became an integral part of the top of your family's clan. You planned. You acted. You played the game.

And Jungkook... He immediately established himself as a strong player. He didn't just enter the business, he took full control of it. His name quickly became the law. His word was a verdict. No one worked in this city without his permission. Those who wanted to stay alive bowed their heads to him.

But not you.

You never bowed your head.

Even though your uncle wanted to cooperate with Jungkook, you were against it. You saw him as a threat. Not a partner.

Instead of submitting to his sudden and overwhelming power, you fought for your place, taking away his contracts, disrupting his deals. You've been fighting this war for years - over people, over money, over power.

But something more than just hatred has been burning between you all along.

Your gazes lingered longer than they should have. Your conversations were always too intense, too provocative.

Your bodies were always too close when you met at formal events.

You knew he wanted you.

He knew you wanted him.

But neither of you could allow it.

Because as soon as someone submits, this game is over.

But here you are. You're tied up in his hands. Completely at his mercy. Jungkook looks at your face and for a moment he thinks that everything you did was on purpose. In order to be here with him, giving him the opportunity to destroy you.

"You think you're here because you blew my deal?" Jungkook grabbed the arms of the chair, squeezing them so hard that his fingers turned white. His face came closer to yours. "It's not the business, Y/N. It's you. You crossed the line." He growled. You tried to remain indifferent, but somewhere deep inside you, something trembled.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, putting on a dramatic tone. His smile was dangerous. He had seen you play too many times.

"You know what I mean. Last night, your little performance..." He explains. Before you could answer, he abruptly lifted you up with the chair, leaning forward so that your faces were almost level. His breath touched your lips.

"You made a fool of me. In front of everyone. My credibility has been undermined... You're overplay, princess." He sounded threatening, dangerous.

"This is business, Jungkook." You said, using his words, the ones he said to you every time he took a good deal or partner from under your nose. You sounded mocking, but he shook his head.

"No, princess. It was a game you played with me without thinking about the consequences."

You were silent, not knowing what to say. The smile that was on your face a moment ago disappeared. Of course, you knew that sooner or later he would realize that the deal that had been broken was your doing, but so soon?

He turned away, sat you back down, and walked a few steps away. He took off his jacket, then his watch. He threw it on the edge of the huge sofa. You watched his movements and could feel the tension between you growing.

You couldn't let him do anything to you. You had to get out of here. You had to save yourself. So while he wasn't looking, you tried to untie the rope. You were trained to do that. The world of the mafia required you to be strong and able to defend yourself.

Jungkook turned to face you and started to roll up his sleeves. The tattoos caught your attention, and he noticed it. But why was he rolling up his sleeves? Was he preparing to torture you? Or did he have something else in mind?

"I was standing two meters away. And I was looking into your eyes." he laughed softly, almost hysterically, not believing that you could pull off such a scam, "The same ones that are looking at me so brazenly now." His voice surprisingly sounded silky, dangerously soft.

You froze. The events of the previous evening flashed through your mind, the moment you stole the deal he'd been working on for two years from under his nose.

Jungkook had been negotiating hard with Kaizen Securities, a Japanese corporation that would have given him monopoly control of one of the largest illegal arms supply channels in Seoul. This deal was supposed to raise his status to the level of "untouchable" among all other players.

Since you had a long-standing rivalry with Jungkook, you planted a spy in his clan, who worked successfully for three years. You followed the negotiation process, which Minhyuk reported to you, carefully studying all the details.

You decided to do the following: let Jungkook almost finish the job, and then take back what was yours from the beginning. What your family lost when Jungkook arrived in the criminal arena.

Your last move was on the day the contract was signed. You used a fake identity, the name Hanako Shimada, and introduced yourself as an assistant to one of the Japanese directors, specializing in translation, negotiation, and legal support.

You arrived at the hotel where the meeting was taking place with the delegation, bribing the real assistant, who was "suddenly" hospitalized. You thought out your image to the smallest detail, so that it had nothing to do with your usual style, so that Jungkook would not recognize you.

You were dressed in a white business suit, with lenses, makeup, hairstyle, gait, even your voice slightly altered. You spoke flawless Japanese (because you lived in Japan until you were 16). Your accent was perfect. You played the role of an official - restrained, without a hint of your characteristic audacity.

You looked convincing to the last detail. Who would have suspected?

"I heard your voice." His voice darkened with each word. "Heard you translate every phrase, calmly, dryly, perfectly. Saw you hiding in a white suit and pretending to be someone else."

You were so confident and competent in your performance that he saw you as just another functional "gray mouse" and missed the punch right under his ribs. And now that he's already caught you, when he looks at you, he remembers everything - your gait, your eyes, the slight tilt of your head, the subtle smile - everything was right there in front of him, and he didn't see it.

He rolled up his sleeves and approached again, towering over you. Jungkook looked at you with his black eyes piercingly.

"You set me up, and I don't understand how I couldn't see you play, not recognize you..."

You looked at him silently. Your heart was beating somewhere in your throat, but your face was impeccably calm. He had just admitted that you had defeated him. That you hadn't just taken the contract - you had misled him so that he didn't recognize you from a few meters away.

You couldn't contain your triumph. You slowly raised an eyebrow and with a slight smile, said.

"It turns out I'm a really good actress."

You changed the terms of the deal behind Jungkook's back, telling the Japanese that he would not provide security guarantees. Posing as a trustee of a fictitious investor, you offered better terms: higher profits and security. The Japanese believed you and signed the contract right in his presence.

How sweet it was to see him humiliated in front of the Japanese, because he didn't recognize the manipulation and lost a lucrative contract.

Jungkook's eyes narrowed, his jaw twitched, but you continued, quietly, as if afraid to break the silence.

"And you, Jungkook, have become overconfident. You used to always see everything..."

His eyes darted between yours, sliding down to your lips, then to your neck, then to your thigh, which was visible through the long slit in your dress. You could almost physically feel his gaze touching your body.

His eyes returned to you.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No," you answered evenly. "I'm just reminding you who's had the upper hand in this game from the beginning."

You paused, still fumbling with the rope, and then said with poisonous tenderness.

"What did you think? That you could play on my turf for years, promise the Japanese control of the port my family has owned since my father's time, and I would keep quiet?"

His pupils dilated.

"You knew about the port?"

"I knew everything. Even which of your men had been leaking information to the Japanese." You were silent for a moment, savoring his defeat, and then spoke. "I won fair and square, Jungkook. I took what was rightfully mine."

"Fair?" He laughed, but there was nothing merry about it. "You played dirty. You lied, you bribed people, you made my partners change his mind." He runs his eyes over your face and almost can't control himself. Your self-confidence in your victory has made him angry.

You lift your chin proudly.

"So what? This is our world, isn't it? A world where the strongest take what they want by any means necessary." You argument. Jungkook leans in so that your lips almost touch.

"Yes, but the difference is that I'm stronger. And now you will play by my rules." His fingers touched your face, and you held your breath.

"And what are these rules?" You asked. Jungkook smiled, slowly, predatory.

"I'll show you. But first you have to understand one thing..." His fingers closed on your jaw, forcing you to look directly into his dark eyes.

"Because of your stunt, you are now at my mercy. And believe me, you will not be spared." He almost whispered it to you. You felt his breath on your lips. Your heart beat faster.

His fingers slid down and stopped at your throat. He didn't squeeze, he just touched, making you feel how close the edge was. His gaze slowly moved down, studying you, as if he was already deciding how you should obey him.

Jungkook suddenly turned away, held you with a cold gaze, and then walked away. You continued your struggle with the rope. A little more and you would be free.

He walked over to the table where there was a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He wasn’t in a hurry. He poured it slowly and turned to you, taking a sip. He liked knowing that this time, you wouldn’t run away. He didn't take his eyes off you. You didn't take your eyes off him.

Jungkook sat down on the sofa, drinking a honey-colored liquid. He sating across from you, looking at you calmly, as if he had won the battle in the end.

"I never thought I'd see you in such a helpless situation." His voice was low, savoring every word. He took another sip without hiding his smile. You clenched your jaw, not letting yourself show the fear that was still present, even though you tried to hide it deep inside.

"Enjoying?" You asked ironically, but your eyes were full of anger.

Jungkook twirled his glass in his hands and smiled, slowly, too confidently.

"You know what's the most interesting thing?" He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I could have put a stop to your antics a long time ago."

You snorted. The laugh came easily from your plump lips.

"You could have tamed me much sooner? But you only did it when I made a fool of you?" You said through your laughter.

Jungkook didn't answer right away. He just looked at you, calmly, without taking his eyes off you, and there was something frightening in that look. Not brute aggression, but cold calculation. He enjoyed your resistance, knew that you would fight to the last - and that was what amused him.

"No. I was just wondering how far you could go. And now you've made your choice, princess." He finally said, twirling the glass in his fingers. "You played with fire, not realizing it could burn you." Jungkook took a sip of alcohol. He tasted the honeyed flavor, and smiled at the corner of his lips.

"Tell me honestly, you didn't think I was going to ignore this trick of yours like all the times before, did you? Let you play with me as you please?"

You lifted your chin sharply, even now not letting him see your weakness.

"You want to break me just because I defeated you?" you challenged. "Then you're much weaker than you look."

Something much darker flashed in his eyes. He put the glass on the nightstand, stood up and came closer.

"Do you think you've defeated me?" Jungkook repeated quietly, leaning in once more so that your faces were almost touching.

He always violated your personal space. He liked to keep you close, so close that you didn't have time to collect your thoughts.

"If it was really a victory, then why are you here - tied up, without any control over the situation, instead of celebrating your success?" his voice dropped to a velvety whisper, and every word penetrated your skin.

You pressed your lips together.

"You know it well. I'm not afraid of you, Jungkook," you said firmly.

He smiled, his eyes sliding over your face, and he straightened up. He liked to look down on you. His imagination painted scenes of you kneeling perfectly before him, and he looked down on you the same way. Something in his middle caught fire at the thought of your mouth on his cock.

But he calmed himself as quickly as he could and walked around you, standing behind you. You stopped untying the rope and clasped your hands together so he wouldn't see that it was loose.

Jungkook leaned down to your ear and said.

"This is good," he whispered. "Because fear is chaos. And I need order."

His fingers touched your neck, and you flinched. At his touch.

He slowly touched the collar of your dress, letting the fabric slip slightly off your shoulder. Your skin burned where his fingers had left a mark.

"It's time to teach you something really important."

"Ha-ha, teach? What can you teach me?" you asked with undisguised interest.

"Submission," Jungkook replied. The word came out of his mouth as easily as a breath. But there was power in it. A power that was frightening. "Submission." He repeated it almost gently, stroking your collarbone with his fingertips. "It's something you haven't known yet, but I'll take care of it." You felt indignation rising inside you.

"You're doing this again?" You said as if it were boring. "I'll never be yours, Jungkook." He smiled in a way that made you feel hot.

"Oh, don't you get it yet?" His voice was almost playful, but there was a metallic tinge of control in the deep timbre. "You are already mine, princess."

Jungkook was in front of you again. His hand grabbed your chin sharply, forcing you to look him straight in the eye.

"Every fight between us, every moment when you woke up and thought about me, hating it... It all meant only one thing. You've always belonged to me."

Your breathing became heavier. And this time... you really felt that you were starting to suffocate, not just from fear. But also from confusing feelings that you shouldn't have felt.

He was taking over. He control a situation as a usual. But you hadn't lost yet.

All your emotions rushed out - and it was at that moment that you managed to escape. The rope slipped from your hands, and you hit him sharply, creating space for escape. His reaction was instantaneous, but you were already flying toward the door, half out of breath, consumed by a single desire-freedom.

Your hand almost touched the handle when Jungkook's fingers grabbed your wrist. You turned around, trying to strike, but he easily dodged. Your next move, a kick, was blocked.

In a second, you were pinned against a cold wall. Jungkook forced your arms behind your back, squeezing them to prevent you from breaking free. His body was pressed against you, and you could feel the warmth of his chest pressing against your back. His crotch was touching your buttocks, and your legs were locked with his.

"Want a fight?" he laughed low, touching your ear. You were both breathing heavily.

"Let go of me and I'll kick your ass in seconds Jeon," you said angrily. You suddenly felt his cock resting on your buttocks. He was aroused by your little fight.

"I think we'd better take this passion elsewhere," Jungkook said seductively, and he pressed in closer so you could feel the hardness of his cock even better. It was only then that you noticed a throbbing between your legs. And moisture was leaking onto your underwear. It was foolish not to admit that his proximity excited you as much as it excited him.

"You'll never have me, you bastard," you said, in defiance of your feelings.

Jungkook turned you around in one confident motion, still holding you so you couldn't hurt him. He smiled when he saw your hateful gaze. But you're pretending. He knows you want him.

"Oh, I can have you anytime. But you want it too, don't you princess?" he said, licking his lower lip. You stare at his lips, mesmerized. Fuck. You want to kiss him.

Jungkook finally let go of your hands, confident that you wouldn't fight anymore. He ran his fingers along your figure, lowering his hands to your hips. He slid his hand under your dress and squeezed your skin lightly. His touch was confident, almost possessive. Your hands rested on his chest, as if trying to push him, but your fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt.

"You're shaking, Y/N." He spoke softly, his voice hoarse and hot, seeping into your mind, making your heart beat even faster than before.

"You overestimate your influence over me." You tried to sound confident, but your voice trembled treacherously. "I will never play by your rules."

"But tonight you will," he lifted you by the hips, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist, and carried you to the table behind him. You felt the cold surface against your skin and only then realized how hot you were from what was happening between you.

Jungkook was breathing heavily, barely able to control himself. He suddenly smiled, pressing you tighter to his aroused cock.

"Give me a few minutes and I'll break you." He was serious. His lips barely touched your neck, taking his time, leaving no marks, just burning you with his hot breath. You could feel his palms resting steadily on your buttocks, his fingers flesh squeezing to remind you that the power was his.

"Why don't you push me away, princess?" He whispered it right next to your ear, his voice breaking into hot pulses that ran through your entire body.

Your fingers clenched into fists. You should have resisted. You should have told him it was a game, that he wouldn't make you submit. But when his lips finally touched your neck, when his hot lips sucked in your tender skin, leaving marks, you lost the ability to think.

"You've been playing strong for so long that you've forgotten what it's like to just give in." He said when he had left enough hickeys on your neck. His voice was quiet, but it filled the entire space between you.

You didn't like the feeling of being under his control. But what you didn't like even more was how much you wanted it. You squeezed his shirt, as if balancing the desire to push him away and pull him closer.

"Tell me I'm wrong..." His lips stopped right next to yours. You met his gaze. Full of lust, full of power to conquer.

"I..." You paused, inhaled. Your pride dissolved, burned under that look. "...I hate you."

Jungkook smiled.

"Little liar."

His lips finally covered yours, sharply, all-consuming, so that you forgot how to breathe. It was an invasion. A struggle.

You squeezed his shoulders, trying to hold back - but your lips responded. At first it was a protest. Then it was an explosion. The kiss became deeper, hotter, as if you were both surrendering to all the emotions that had been building up for so long and burning from the inside.

His tongue penetrated you without asking for permission, just like everything else he did. And you... didn't stop him. Because you wanted it too. You wanted it.

He tore the zipper of your dress open and it gathered at your hips. The sight of your perfectly taut breasts, erect nipples, and goosebumps made Jungkook want more. He uncontrollably took one of your breasts in his hands and squeezed it. His wet tongue circled around your bud, tasting the pleasant taste of your nipples.

You were moaning above his head, just from his caresses, so what would you sound like when he entered you? When he fills you to the brim?

"Feel that?" His voice was husky, heavy with desire. You didn't know what he was asking specifically, whether it was his hard cock resting against your needy pussy or his power over you. But you felt it all. His strength. His desire. His complete control over your every move. "You've always belonged to me." He whispered it right next to your ear, breaking into a hot breath.

His hands, which had been under your dress, boldly reached for your underwear. He stopped, his lips still touching yours.

"Are you finally admitting it, princess?"

Silence. Only your breaths. The pulse in your temples. Hot air, saturated with tension. But you didn't say anything. Are you really losing this war that has lasted so long?

His hand moved your underwear to the side. Your body shuddered as he ran his fingers between the damp folds, easily finding a spot that made you sigh softly.

Jungkook smiled triumphantly. He massaged your clit, with slow, blissful strokes. When he plunged a finger into your passage, you grabbed his free hand, squeezing it.

"So wet... Fuck, you're just dripping onto my fingers, baby." He whispered. In between kissing your neck, your jaw, your breasts. He wanted to explore every inch of your body with his lips.

Jungkook added another finger to your passage and fucked you with it. He created a friction that made you want to feel something more.

"I want to hear that…Tell me I won." He demanded. His voice was full of power, he knew you belonged to him completely.

You opened your eyes and met his gaze, heavy and piercing. And you had to surrender. You had to admit it. You belonged to him completely and utterly. You wanted to be his. You fucking wanted this man to fuck you.

"You win, Kook. I'm yours." You whispered. He stretched you, plunged into every cell of your body, took you over, made you forget where you were, who you were, and why you'd ever tried to resist.

His movements became deeper, more confident. And you couldn't fight anymore-your hands reached for the buttons of his shirt, and you pulled them open randomly, wanting to tear them off.

Jungkook slipped his fingers out of your passage and helped you undress him. In the dim light of the suite, his body was so hot and sexy. His skin was perfect, every muscle as if carved by God himself.

You gulped in a breath, as your eyes touched his torso. Elastic, well-defined chest, broad shoulders. His abs, like marble, consisted of perfect lines that stretched down, right to the place where your imagination was already drawing the most daring images.

Your fingers reached for his body, sliding over his hot skin. Now you knew what his tattoos looked like, the ones that were always hidden behind his clothes.

There was ink that seemed to come to life under your touch. First, you noticed the words "Rather be dead than cool" tattooed in italics on his forearm, a phrase that perfectly matched his personality: bold, unrestrained, living to the fullest.

Above, on his wrist, was a delicate drawing of a tiger and a lotus, symbolizing strength and purity - a contrast similar to his own.

And on his shoulder was a large black flower, and your palm slid over it, gently, almost reverently.

You barely had time to enjoy the sight of it when Jungkook pulled off your dress and then simply tore open your thin black lace thong. You gasped, not expecting such behavior from Jungkook, but it seemed he was losing patience.

He had a sly smile on his face. His eyes never left yours, hungry, dark, and without mercy.

"You know, princess... Now that you're mine, I'm going to make sure you can never forget this moment."

He knelt between your legs. His gaze slid down to your center and he licked his lips like a predator who had finally gotten his prey.

His tongue slid over your folds, gently at first, exploring, making you arch with pleasure, and then deeper, harder, rhythmically, until your moans became shameless. His hands held your hips tightly, not letting you escape, not letting you even think about resisting. He worked his tongue as if he could drive you crazy with it alone, and damn it, he did.

Your stomach was in a knot, wave after wave passing through your body, making you squirm and gasp. You grabbed his hair, trying to hold back, but...

"Fuck..." you cursed, barely recognizing your own voice.

He lifted his head, his lips glistening with your wetness. He flicked his tongue across his lower lip, tasting you. His chest heaved rhythmically, He was on the verge, just like you.

"I can't wait any longer," he said hoarsely and stood up, shedding the rest of his clothes. His cock was hard, tense, ready for you.

You didn't look away. It was perfect. Big. Erect. And all yours.

He pulled you closer to the edge of the table, supporting you under your buttocks, and ran his head between your folds. Just teasing. Just playing.

"Tell me again. Who do you belong to?"

You clutched his forearm, your nails digging into his skin, your body trembling with anticipation.

"You... Jungkook. I belong to you."

"Good girl."

You thought Jungkook was going to take you right now. He was teasing you with those movements of his cock on your clit, but he didn't come in. You weren't expecting it when he pulled back and pulled you to the floor. Your buttocks were resting on the table, and in a moment Jungkook turned you around, bending you over the table.

Your breasts were on the table, your hands resting on the perfectly polished surface. Your hot breath left condensation.

Jungkook came up behind you, pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, and thrust. You felt him penetrate. He had barely plunged into you when you screamed in pain. He stopped when he felt you were in pain. You were tighty, he could feel it as he stretched you.

"How long since you had sex?" he asked in a low voice. You pressed your fingers tighter to the table, so that they turned white. Jungkook moved back and forth, as if breaking through an invisible barrier.

"It's been a long time," you breathed out, but your voice sounded sharp, like the thorns on a beautiful rose. Jungkook smiled, still moving lightly at the entrance. He stroked your thighs, soothing you.

"When was the last time?" he asked. You raised your eyebrows, why was he asking? You should talk less and act more. Even though you were in pain, you needed him inside.

"What the hell does it matter, just come in," you couldn't stand it. You heard Jungkook's guttural laugh. And then his hand was right in front of your eyes. He leaned down and touched your cheek with his lips.

"You're not supposed to be a virgin, are you?" his voice vibrated against your skin, making you tremble inside. His cock was still in your passage, but not fully penetrating.

"Don't even dream about being my first, I had sex before you," you said indignantly. You turned your head a few centimeters. You saw Jungkook's lips and it was at that moment that you felt him enter you completely. It was not very sharp, but you screamed.

Jungkook plunged into you until his hips felt yours. His balls touched your pussy and he froze, still leaning over you. You were breathing hard and fast, feeling pain, but it was being replaced by the pleasure of being filled with his cock.

"You're such a tight princess that even if you did have sex, that idiot had a small cock." he laughed again. "Who was that?" he moved his hips and you bit your lip to keep from screaming again. "Your assistant Dongmin, or was it In-guk, that piece of shit who was always hanging around you?"

Jungkook moved his hips slowly but deeply. He was careful, and you could tell he didn't want to hurt you. His breath was hot, burning your skin, spreading over it in a stormy wave.

"That was Taehyung," you said. Jungkook froze. You smiled because you knew it would surprise him.

"Taehyung?" he repeated quietly, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. His voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper, and his gaze-though you couldn't see it-was probably as dark as a night storm.

His fingers tightened around your hips, and his breath came in shorter bursts. But instead of getting angry or pulling away, he slowly, almost painfully, moved inside you again, sinking deeper.

"I didn't know he had a small one..." Jungkook said it with a sneer, but you didn't laugh, because Taehyung didn't have a small one. Maybe a little smaller than Jungkook's. "Why... he?" he said hoarsely, as if he wasn't asking, but trying to understand.

You smiled out loud, a little cheekily.

"We had a common project, common interests, spent a lot of time together...and it happened." you said, holding back moans of pleasure.

Jungkook entered you, deeper and longer each time. His movements were slow but full of power. Jungkook felt a stab of jealousy that Taehyung was touching you. He saw the pleasure on your beautiful face, heard your moans... Before Jungkook did. That made he’s movements chaos.

Your fingers slid along the steamy surface of the table, looking for support. Your whole body merged with his in a rhythm that seemed endless.

Jungkook lowered himself, leaning even closer, almost completely covering your body with his.

His lips touched your neck, burning with every word he spoke:

"Shared interests?" he whispered, moving his hips so that you cried out again. "I wonder if he liked the way you squirmed under him too..."

You turned your head as sharply as your posture allowed and met his gaze defiantly:

"What, are you jealous?" you exhaled, trembling from the new thrust. "Maybe you're afraid he was better?"

His whole body tensed. In the next moment, Jungkook straightened behind you and abruptly, but not violently, withdrew from you almost completely... and then plunged in again, deeply, to the very core.

You screamed, clutching the edge of the table.

"Say it again," his voice was low, dark as thunder in the night, "and I make you forget who Taehyung, Dongmin, In-guk, and everyone else who ever dared to touch you is."

His hips pressed firmly against your buttocks again, and his hands were no longer gentle, but strong, saying: "now you are mine."

And you felt it - with every cell.

His fingers slid to your clit, stimulating you to unbearable sensations. He knew how to touch you, how to hold you to make you moan louder for him.

Your sounds filled the room. He picked up the pace, but didn't lose control. Your back pressed against his chest as he lifted you without leaving you. You could feel his heart - it was beating furiously, almost in unison with yours.

"From this night — you only mine," he said. You couldn't even imagine how much he liked the sound of that, "you should remember how you looked when I fucked you for the first time, so you never forget who was the best in you..."

With that, he pulled out of you. You felt your passage hurt. Your pussy was swollen and throbbing unbearably. You tried to normalize your breathing when you felt Jungkook grab you, throwing you over his shoulder. Your bodies touched again, raising the temperature of each other. His hand was on your bare buttocks.

"Oh my God, what are you doing?" you said in agony in front of his buttocks. He couldn't help himself and slapped your ass.

"Going to show you how amazing you are when my cock is deep inside you," he said playfully.

Jungkook carried you into the bedroom. It was dark, but not completely. The lights of the city at night illuminated it barely, but it was enough to see what you needed to see.

You saw Jungkook carry you past the big bed and set you on your feet. In front of a mirror.

You looked at your reflection and saw a girl who was naked, with marks on her neck and chest. She was disheveled with swollen lips.

Jungkook hugged you close. You saw his face and sly smile in the mirror. His big palm touched your stomach.

"Just look how beautiful you are," he said in your ear, not taking his eyes off yours in the mirror, "how beautiful you are when you give yourself to me," he whispered, squeezing you more closer. His lips barely touched your skin, but your body was already on fire from this touch. You looked in the mirror and couldn't recognize yourself.

He grabbed your jaw and turned you around, kissing you. His tongue went into your mouth as if he was the master. Your tongues intertwined, wrestling just like you had all those years before. Finally, he bit your lower lip and let you go.

Jungkook led you to the mirror and you reflexively grabbed the frame. You let him dive into you again. This time he went in less painfully but still deeply, keeping his gaze on your reflection.

"Don't look away," his voice was warm but commanding, "I want you to see what I'm doing to you. So that every time you think back to this night, you will remember yourself like this. Mine."

His hips started moving again, gradually speeding up. His arms held you tightly, one cupping your breasts, the other sliding down between your legs. He touched you gently and hard at the same time, mixing pleasure with fierce passion exists.

You were trembling, and every movement of his body made you forget how to breathe.

"So who's fucking you so good, huh princess?" he hissed, staring at your mirror reflection.

You didn't answer, just exhaled his name, shuddering at his fingers on your clit.

"You…" you hardly breathe, "You Jungkook..."

You held back moans from the intense stimulation, the feel of his big cock inside you. And Jungkook didn't like it.

"Louder," he grunted. "I want to enjoying your scream."

You listened to him. You couldn't hold back any longer. Your loud moans, almost screams, filled the entire space around you. They were intertwined with the sounds of your bodies hitting each other, and they were almost sinful.

His cock moving inside you, hot, hard, ruthless. And your whole body merged with him in this rhythm - wild, honest, real. As if he knew no mercy.

He pulled your hair to the side and kissed your neck.

"I'm going to cherish this moment in your memories, because this is just the beginning of our fun adventure."

You let go of all your feelings as your orgasm hit you like a storm. Your body arched in his arms, the last, loudest moan burst from your chest, and your mind exploded with white light.

Jungkook hit you hard a few more times and came out of you. He came on your ass with a hoarse, low growl.

He put his wet forehead against your back, which was covered with a thin layer of sweat.

Your breaths merged into one, your hearts were beating furiously. His arms did not let go, his body did not move away. All you could feel was the weight of his cock on your buttocks and his warm, thick cum dripping down your legs.

You moved, forcing Jungkook to pull away. His cum dripped down your legs, dripped onto the floor, but neither of you seemed to care.

You turned around to face him. Jungkook was still breathing deeply, but he had a satisfied smile on his lips. You smiled too, but slyly, playfully.

"So…it happened," you said first. Jungkook pulled you to him. His lips covered yours, completely. Absorbing you, just as he had done with your body. With your soul. Having enjoyed your lips enough, he broke the kiss. You slowly opened your eyes. They were sparkling.

"It happened, princess, are you satisfied?" he asked, carefully studying your expression.

"Do I have to tell you the truth? Or can I tease you?" you asked playfully. His fingers on your waist squeezed your skin tighter.

"Only tell the truth... because if you lie to me again, or deceive me... you will not receive my mercy, anymore" he warned in a soft voice not without a touch of menace.

"It sounds like a another challenge..." you said, "but if tell honest, I'm really satisfied," you kissed him on the lips, a short touch, and when you pulled away a few centimeters, seeing his eyes closed, you whispered, "you fucked me so good."

Jungkook opened his eyes when he heard your words, but you had already disappeared. He saw you hurriedly walked towards the bedroom door.

"I need to take a shower," you threw over your shoulder and disappeared behind the door.

When you got out of the shower, you didn't find Jungkook. You heard the sound of water coming from the other bathroom and knew this was your chance to run away from him. You put on the dress that was lying on the floor in the living room, but you sewed up your thong because Jungkook had torn it.

You grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and wrote him a short message. You signed it with a kiss and the first letter of your name.

You grabbed key card, opened the door of hotel room and left without being stopped.

Jungkook took a quick shower, replaying your sex in his head. He was excited and happy that you would finally be his. The way you moaned and screamed his name made his mind go wild. And he was going to get even more from you.

Jungkook walked into the living room and heard silence. He became alert, looking around for you because you weren't in the bedroom.

His eyes fell on the white paper left on the table. Nowhere to be seen was your burgundy dress, which he had taken off you somewhere around here. Jungkook laughed as he walked over to the table. Did you really run away and leave a note?

He held the white piece of paper between his two fingers, skimming the contents.

"You still didn't catch me, but I'll be more careful than today. I'm looking forward to your hunt for me. What will be our next meeting? I'm sure you're already waiting for it.

P.S. Thanks for the show anyway, guy with the dark eyes.

Y/N 💋"

Jungkook clenched the piece of paper into a fist. And then he laughed. He sat down on the couch with his head on the back of the couch and looked at the ceiling.

You run away again. You had outsmarted him again. Again made his thoughts boil with the possibility of knowing a way to get you. He closed his eyes tiredly, but a smile played on his lips was predatory.

"No mercy now, Princess. The darkness pulls you under before you know it..." was the sound in his head.

☰ Index: Ⅰ // Ⅱ // Ⅲ // Ⅳ // �� 𓏧

[lunamugetsu]

Danny is an ao3 writer

Hear me out!

Y'know how there's a running joke that ao3 authors/writers will put in the author's notes that they're sorry that they took so long to update and their reason is because of either they got into a horrible accident/ life threatening health issue/serious personal issues/ their life went up in flames figuratively or literally, or somehow a combination of all of those scenarios. And they're all like "Well enjoy the chapter! tee-hee!" and everybody who's reading it all collectively go "are you okay?!" (aka the ao3 writers curse)

So I want to take this, and add Danny

Danny begins taking a liking to the classic literature that Mr. Lancer talks about during class and decides to writes a fanfic about it along those lines. It all starts for when he writes a Pride and Prejudice fic where Charlotte gets a better life where she's both happy and comfortable. And when he gets pretty supportive comments about it. He starts writing fics for other books as well (and it never stops)

During that time, who else but the Jane Austen fan, Jason Todd reads this fic. Yes he reads fanfic (do not ask him about his ao3 history), he yearns for more Jane Austen, but unfortunately she's not exactly able to write more books for him to read. So he turns to ao3 where there are some people who have incredible talent for writing pretty good regency era romance.

So what happens when he finds a couple of Pride and Prejudice stories written by " HalfDeadHalfAliveWriter

And when reading through the stories and looking at the author's notes.

All with very weird scenarios happening to the writer that he can't be sure that if it's a joke or if it's an actual thing he should be very worried about.

Author's notes such as:

Sorry it took so long for me to update this I was being shot at by my parents and ended up getting a burn on my hand and couldn't use my computer for awhile.

Sorry the chapter's so short, all the people in my town are being possessed by a hoard of angry ghosts because somebody had a bright idea to steal an artifact that belongs to an ancient civilization. So I had to get this out quick before they ruin my wifi connection

Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, I had to fight off a crazy guy that is obsessed with killing my father so he could marry my mother and become my new stepfather.

Sorry for the wait I got sent back to Ancient Egypt by my mentor to hunt down a runaway ghost that was messing with time.

But honestly the most recent author's note on a fic that hadn't been updated in week is what makes Jason really worried.

Sorry for not updating for a couple months guys, I was taken by a government agency that started vivisecting and torturing me. Thankfully my sister and friends busted me out and now I'm working on healing up. Anyway here's the Great Gatsby fic where Nick and Gatsby kiss.

After reading that author's note, Jason just sits there thinking only one thing.

What the fuck?

[r4hhhhhh]

Who knew it would take Dr. Robotnik and his freaky ahh agent husband to get me into animating.

I've put my previous comic on hold for the time being since I got too obsessed with a little AU I thought of (is it an original idea? Who knows(?) I haven't seen it around, so I'm going to say so).

Summary of said AU: basically, after SM3, Stone goes a little insane, and by the power of whatever higher power there is, he's able to conjure/heavily hallucinate Ivo into somewhat existing. Some angst here and there, but they end up in the past pre-SM1, and because Stone is stupid and delusional, he's like, "Omg, I can start again!" (No, he cannot, but oh well, ruin the whole timeline, I guess.) They meet their past selves; Stone kills his past self and, in a way, kidnaps pre-SM1 Ivo. Now both Stone and Pre-SM1-Ivo are being haunted by a ghost Stone and a hallucination Ivo, while the latter are just having the time of their lives being silly (not really; they're both having trouble processing not being alive/real but still being there).

That's where I'm up till now. I haven't really thought about what happens afterwards, but hopefully some of you guys were able to make sense of my ramblings.

Anyway, they're taking over my brain, so I might post them some more later on, maybe even write a fanfic for their story.

I'll see what I decide, but see ya later, and happy pride month! :)

[zaundads]

Anybody want to create a quick quintessential Zaundads fanfic rec list?

I was away for a long time between seasons, so I probably missed a ton but those are some of the longer/meatier ones I remember, particularly one of the more fix-it category.

While the World Turns Around by Blue_Daddys_Girl

In a chance meeting Vander sees Silco for the first time since the fateful day he's come to regret so deeply. Silco has changed—they both have. Vander can't stop thinking about him.

Reconciliation AU by Rimeko

If the cannery scene went down differently, if Vander got thrown into Stillwater with Vi instead of (maybe) dying, and if Silco eventually got them both freed. What, then? What to do with the ruins of what once was? How to deal with love and betrayal and everything that went down in the meantime, and how to move forward.

Stillwater Marriage by Alishatheninth

AU in which Vander does not insist on having one last pipe, therefore gets out of Benzo's shop before Silco has Deckard kill all the Enforcers. Vander decides there's really little to be lost by simply handing the reins to Silco. Silco has to deal with a slightly different set of challenges, and does so in his own, slightly deranged, way.

started with a pin by bloodinthewine

Silco doesn’t expect to find anything extraordinary when he accompanies his daughter to her first Pride parade. Vander, an infamous and experienced leather daddy, finds him anyway. (or The Leather Daddy AU) 

And just some personal favorites of mine that I remember:

underground utopia dynasties and dystopia by leonshardt, which I think is the original prostitute!Silco stories.

Old Griefs and Childrens Faiths by GoddessofRoyalty, an A/B/O story which always made me hope for a parent!trap style story where Powder tries to reunite Silco and Vander

There are some mores that I love, including some smut ones, but everybody please mind that season 1 Zaundad fandom often skewed more dark, messy and angsty.

Anybody else have any favorites? Any other popular fics I missed? If somebody was joining late, what would you recommend to them?

[ruesol]

Lucid Submission - chapter 2

(feudal lord!sukuna x reader)

synopsis:

The fearsome demon king, Sukuna Ryomen, is reborn as an immortal human man as punishment for ruining the balance of good and evil in the divine realm.

To lift his curse and return to his original form, Sukuna must complete the condition bestowed upon him by the deities.

However, it requires him to have a child with the street thief who stole his coin pouch.

fanfic masterlist

Your skin chaffed against the rope wounded tightly around it, wrists aching as the rounded ends of your ulnas rubbed against one another. You had already almost been married against your will in the past, and your mind was set on never having that happen to you again.

As much as you despised the winter season, the sound of crunching snow always soothed you, reminding you of the days you’d run around with your grandmother chasing after you. But now, all it did was sound ominous, like you were walking—well, more like being dragged to your death by two brawny men (albeit much thinner compared to the mastodon of a man who claimed you as his bride.) The crackles of fresh ice thinned out as the four of you approached the town. Snow-covered gabled roofs coming into view.

A beam of hope glimmered in your chest. You could scream for help once you’d reach closer to the inner core of the town. Even if you knew no one would want to help a mere street thief, let alone one that looked as dirty and noxious as you–a girl could hope. Maybe the sight of the two brutes firmly gripping onto your elbows and walking fast enough for you to basically hover over the ground would soften the townsfolk's hearts. It was hard living life as a woman.

But to your surprise, the crazed man and his bodyguards took a detour—a deserted street save for two or three children sweeping away snow on the damp ground. “I am a mere thief, you crazed fool. You will not gain anything by marrying me,” you said out loud into the silence. 

The children didn’t look in your direction but simply ran back inside their respective homes. Take me with you, you wanted to say. The pink-haired man suddenly stopped. You could sense his turbulent mood even by the back of his head. You knew it was impossible, but it felt like his thick neck was sweating out of sheer annoyance. 

He turned around, and his bodyguards stopped walking, leaving you to finally rest your feet. He didn’t seem angry. His devil-like red eyes had a determined look in them. The kind you’d have when you knew you wouldn’t go to sleep hungry. 

“I don’t know what uncivilized world you came from, but you must address me respectfully.” His voice boomed in the empty street. Like a king, the man commanded attention with eye contact and intimidation alone. It was like his gaze had cemented you to the cobblestoned street. But you had to stay strong, keeping your spine stiff and guarded if you were going to survive this situation. 

Maybe he married random women and then feasted on their blood and organs to grow stronger. The outline of his swelling muscles underneath his hakama was not helping your judgment. He looked like the kind of man who relished blood's salty and iron-like taste.

“How can I address you if I do not even know your name?” you snapped, uncaring if the monster that nabbed you was capable of breaking your body into halves–like one of the twigs his heavy foot stepped on while walking. You could tell his patience was running thin when he frowned. “Besides, I cannot marry you without receiving a proper proposal. I may not have much, but I do have pride. It’s the one thing the poor can afford,” you continued. 

The tattooed man walks closer to where you’re standing, and for a split second, you curse yourself for your quick tongue. He leans down to be eye-level with you, and you notice how he looks at you with a deep sense of recognition–like he had been looking for you all his life. “My name is Sukuna Ryomen. You may address me as ‘my Lord’ or, preferably after we get married–husband,” he pressed.

“And I am not asking to marry you. It is an order.”

The dull ache of losing your autonomy settles into the pit of your stomach again. “You are neither the nation’s emperor nor do I believe in any gods to treat you like one. I am not obligated to listen to you,” you argue with a bitter hilt in your voice. You needed to repulse him. Fast. 

“If I tell you about myself, you’ll be sure to believe in them.” He then smirked and turned his back to you, walking into the empty street again. His men dragged you onwards on cue. 

He narrated his entire story to you. How he was once some sort of a demon king in the Divine Realm. He talked about his former glory as if he was still living through those days–a different kind of energy in his voice and dare you say, a demonic aura possessing him with every stalk. You could only see the back of his head from your position, but you knew he had an evil sparkle in his eyes.

It all sounded ridiculous, like some kind of fable narrated to children to prevent them from being troublesome. You couldn’t help but giggle at first. The idea of some random rich man being a demon in his past life didn’t sound all too implausible, but him taking it seriously enough to nab you was just absurd. 

Your supposedly magical eyes were nothing special to you. They’ve looked the same since the day you were born–boring. Except for the occasional eye bags you’d adorn them with after crying for hours about your deceased grandmother–the only person to love you more than herself. 

Your grandmother always said how you had a lot of misfortune in your eyes. You never knew what that meant until today–when you were being forcibly married to a random stranger. One that looked like a demon at that–even acted like one with his uncomfortably loud laughter and terrifying hunter-like gaze. 

Your giggles soon turned into a hysterical fit of laughter. You pretended to wipe a tear using your tied wrists. “So you’re telling me I have some marble you want.” 

Sukuna stops in his tracks, and so do his men. He doesn’t turn back this time. “Yes.”

“My Lord,” you sarcastically snickered. “I do not have anything to my name, and I was too poor to play with marbles as a child. You are bold to assume that I am carrying one around for the likes of a crazy man.”

You could feel his bodyguards tense up next to you. Their holds tightened, feeling more protective than guarded. “Yuuji, Megumi, you both may leave. I would like to chat alone with my fiancée,” he said as his eyes were still trained on your nervous figure. The guards give you a sympathetic look before taking (what you assume is) a detour. 

Strangely enough, you don’t have it in you to run away. Something deep in your gut told you that nothing good was going to happen if you tried to escape now. Your hands were trapped because of the rope, and Sukuna was built like a soldier and had long legs. You were sure that you were not going to make it far if you ran. The sword sheathed at his side did not help you hide your fear. 

He grabbed your arm and yanked you towards him. The movement was rapid and it jerked you into his chest, clouding you with his scent. He smelled exactly how one would expect a nobleman to smell like–clean and herby. And a delicious manly musk that you chose to ignore. Terrifyingly arousing. 

He bent down to pick you up and carried you with barely any effort. To any bystander, it would seem like a couple was having a romantic moment with hushed conversations and nervous stares. “Wha–I can walk! Let me down, demonic beast!” 

“You have embarrassed me enough around my subordinates. I believe I will need to discipline you.” 

“You are no one to discipline me!”

“Insolent woman, I am your fiancé,” he reprimanded you as his arms tightened around your knees.

“I am being married to you against my will!” His eyes flit to your rising and falling chest as you heave, noticing that he was tiring you out. “Keep yelling. No one wants to save a dirty thief.” He ignored your indignant complaints all the way to his estate. 

His abode was nothing you had imagined it to be. Although magnificent and large, it lacked a team of scurrying housekeepers. Most estates had so many servants that many had to sleep on top of each other in their little quarters. However, Sukuna Ryomen’s estate was quiet. Uncomfortably so. About four people entered the courtyard when the two of you arrived–including his bodyguards. 

Seeing their faces flooded the odd senses of comfort and familiarity in your chest. You let out a deep breath of relief, not realizing that you had been keeping your breathing constricted the entire time Sukuna was carrying you. It seemed like they were glad to see you, too. Yuuji had a relieved smile while Megumi sighed with his eyes closed. 

“Uraume, get everything ready for the ceremony. Yuuji and Megumi, please set up her things in my quarters. Nobara, you will bathe and dress her up for the ceremony.” 

Before Sukuna could place you on your feet, the white-haired servant and two guards moved as swiftly as the wind–getting to business. A girl, no older than eighteen, groaned as she took your hand and dragged you further into the corridors of the estate, barely giving you time to protest. 

You were about to push off the young girl until you both entered a room. It was a private onsen overlooking the river. Nobara’s bored face reminded you to keep your gawking at a minimum. But you couldn’t help yourself anyway, jaw going slack in shock. Knowing a person was rich differed from seeing them casually display their wealth, especially in the form of such amenities.

But you had to stay focused–you needed to escape. You turned around to see that Nobara was too distracted while getting the bath ready for you, so you took your chance and ran across the room toward the sliding door. This part of the estate was closer to the forest. Maybe you could still make a run for it if you could manage to climb the walls in time. 

But you knew your plan was a failure when you felt a small hand yank your arm backwards, and effortlessly grab the other one in the same grasp. Your breath hitched when you noticed Nobara had pulled out a dagger from who knows where and pointed it toward your neck. 

“I am sorry to do this, but I’ve been told not to let Lord Sukuna’s pearl go. No matter what it takes,” she says as she takes the knife closer to your skin. 

“Now, you must stay compliant if you want me to be your ally. And believe me, you’ll need someone to answer your questions about that man.” You could only meekly nod at her ferocity. Running away in a place like this meant having a plan—something you could only do if you had time to look around.

“I will attend to you from now on. Like Uraume, the white-haired one, does to Lord Sukuna” she said monotonously while harshly scrubbing down your arm, months of stubborn grease and dirt rolling off your sore skin. You couldn’t remember the last time you were able to clean your skin like this. 

After being reluctantly scrubbed by Nobara, you were enrobed with the finest clothes and had a light rouge applied to your cheeks after you kicked away the rest of the makeup. You couldn’t rule out the possibility of your plain face driving the wealthy madman away. He probably assumed you were prettier without all the dirt and muck on your face.

You planted your heels on the ground when you were pushed into the formal tea room by a very bored Nobara—one last protest. But still, this didn’t stop Sukuna from ordering Megumi to carry you over his shoulder and plop you right in front of your cup. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at your unequivocally determined fiancé staring daggers at you. 

Fear coiled around you like a thorned vine, suffocating and prickling your skin with every curve. You knew that you were done for as soon as your lips touched the mouth of the teacup. You stared down at the steaming translucent green liquid and gulped. You had never drunk water this clean after living alone for so long. It was unnerving to know that even your sand-like tongue curled at the thought of drinking it under such circumstances. 

Unlike you, Sukuna readily downed his drink, not even taking a moment for the liquid to cool down. He chuffed as he slammed the small porcelain crockery on the table. “What are you waiting for? Drink!” he barked. You were stationary—a stone pillar among the swaying trees. You could sense his impatience as he got up and walked around the table to where you were sitting on your heels. 

He chuckled at the gooseflesh behind your neck and sat beside you. “Drink,” he ordered once again. You turned away, choosing to look at the closed sliding doors to your left. You memorized every wrinkle, crease, and fold on the paper sheets—anything to avoid the looming presence of the behemoth next to you. 

“That’s it–” 

Before you could protest, Sukuna’s thick arms wrapped around you and lifted you onto his lap. You squeaked as his single arm tightly wound around your body, pinning your arms to your sides. He then grabbed the cup and placed it in front of your mouth. “I could be more brutal, but I’ll be nice to you since you cleaned up for me.” 

You whip your neck to face him in horror. “I did not choose–”

You were interrupted by him pouring the drink down your mouth. 

The liquid trickled down your throat like acid. You were bound for good and against your wishes. You could imagine the tea sitting in your stomach, perforating its lining. Your eyes bore into Sukuna’s red ones, and your chest tightened at the sight of his pupils expanding. Every inch of this man’s skin made you want to burn yours. His hands travel up from where they were holding you at your waist to your neck, grasping it from both sides and angling your ear to his mouth. 

The searing heat of his bare skin against yours was making you work up a sweat in the middle of winter.

“Thank you for freeing me, my pearl.” Your spine straightened at the warm puffs of breath that hit your lobe with every word.

taglist: @lady-of-blossoms @sukubusss @gradmacoco @cheriiepies @brunnetteiwik @poopooindamouf @miakxn

[angeliteeyes]

Waiter! Waiter! Can i have some fluff xd

Soo... one of my favorite tropes in fanfic and that is the "drunk s/o doesn't recognize their parter." I would like to ask that with yae miko.

Thanks in advance :D

At your service!!! Let me just see what's going on the kitchen- OH GREAT HEAVENS

Um. So. Our cook set everything on fire... but don't worry! I managed to grab your fluff before it could get burnt. Here you go! ^^

Yae Miko With a Drunk Reader That Doesn't Recognize Her

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

"I'm taken!"

Your angry exclamation stops her in her tracks. It's not as though it's her first time seeing you in a drunk state, but never to this extent. Even now, as she's leaning closer to your flushed face, you stand by your former statement and glare her down, much to her amusement.

"Oh really? By whom, might I ask?" She tilts her head to the side.

"Yae Miko, duh! She's uh... uh... a million times better than you, so back off." You attempt to frown, yet your lack of coordination only allows you to manage a childish pout. She herself also struggles to control her facial expression, although her battle is with a gleeful smirk instead. How adorable of you to manage to make even insulting the love of your life sound sweet. Still, she can't show mercy to you just yet. That'd ruin the fun she's having.

"Mhm, I see. So, tell me. What makes this 'Yae Miko' so special in your eyes, hm?"

Many possibilities run through her head of what you might say. Of course, her looks were one of the things that attracted you to her; they better have, with how much pride she takes in maintaining her humanlike form's beauty. There's also her cunning nature, which morphs into flirtatiousness when you're around. Really, you have so many options to choose from.

Yet despite her confident nature, your next words still take her by surprise.

"I like... um, how do I say it... her honesty?"

Her expression goes blank. Slowly, she recollects herself, returning back to her playful tone.

"You think so? Well, I think that she's hiding a lot more than you realize."

You look back at her with a sheen of confusion.

"Huhhh? You don't get 'er at all! She likes to act all mysterious and stuff, but she's actually really sweet and sappy n' all that. She just tries to hide it most of the time." The sound of your tipsy giggling fills the air around you.

A bizarre rush of both panic and elation simultaneously pulses through her veins as she processes your words. Had she really slipped and let her carefully crafted guard fall that low around you? Or... a blush crosses her own face despite her sober status. The thought embarrasses her to voice, even if it's just in her own head. Maybe you simply paid so much attention to her that you could see the tiny wisps of her true personality that broke through her barriers, no matter how many years she's spent practicing her current persona.

By now, you've finally worn yourself out enough that your exhausted, half-asleep body begins to lean against hers, nuzzling into her warmth. She laughs a little at the display. Apparently, even when you're so drunk that you can't recognize her appearance, you still know exactly where you belong. She presses a kiss into your forehead.

"Nodding off already? Oh, if only I knew you would act so precious just from a couple of extra drinks... Still, that's not enough to save you from getting teased for this later, understand?"

You grumble into the fabric of her clothing softly before fully succumbing to your inevitable slumber. Although she won't admit to this out loud, her heart's still aflutter from the memories of how earnestly you spoke of her, how genuine she could tell each and every one of your words of praise were. She sighs.

If there has to be one lone human that knows the deepest depths of her heart, that can see through all of her facades, at least it gets to be you.

"Goodnight, my darling. Rest well."

[bougiebutchbitch]

never gonna actually do it because it would be a MASSIVE project but

if I were to write a Shen Jiu redemption arc

it would be with the knowledge that his original character would die like he did in the book - aka, being a prideful, toxic, Binghe-hating, abusive&abused little shit to the end

...then, in classic fanfic fashion, he'd be reincarnated in his shizun-self with young disciple Luo Binghe locked in the woodshed after a beating. Aka, where Shen Yuan came in

of course once he gets over the panic

(and the confused morass of emotions upon seeing Yue Qingyuan alive)

his first thought is. I have to kill that fucking monster.

and he goes to do just that - but Binghe is the protagonist and the protagonist can't die/the System stops him/etc. etc. etc.

eventually, despite a... couple more attempts, Shen Jiu realises the only way he's going to change his fate is the long and hard way (aka, repairing every single relationship he's spent his whole life RUINING)

he starts acting in subtly ooc ways, specifically as a ploy to convince people to like him. He is constantly thinking about how he can manipulate their opinion of him to show himself in a good light, and he is not above undercutting other people to paint himself as a Sweet Innocent Shizun who only puts on a cold mask because he's easily flustered. He does his damned best to convince everyone that he's not really a villain. He's just misunderstood. He's still harsh to his disciples, but it's interspersed with far more (reluctant) praise, and always for a genuine teaching purpose, so he can pretend he cares for them really, deep down.

Oh - it makes him sick. His loathing of Binghe festers as the child slooowly begins to creep out of his shell and become more attached to him. He seeks to maintain as much distance from him as possible while still maintaining his 'kind shizun' demeanour, but of course, Binghe being Binghe (and barely needing an excuse to develop a terrible crush on his teacher) makes that very difficult.

Basically: I want Shen Jiu scheming on how he can trick the whole world into thinking he's not a villain, while he himself still considers himself a despicable and irredeemable monster who is cunningly cheating death. I want his intentions to be genuinely rotten. I want him to loathe everyone and everything, and internally gnash his teeth and roll his eyes and inspect any kindness he's shown, working it into that massive web of paranoia that hovers above his head and tells him all the ways in which his so-called 'friends' and disciples may still turn on him in future

I want him to not realise that actions matter far more than intentions, and genuinely endear himself to a lot of people, his shit personality and all. They're like - yeah, that's Shen Qingqiu! He's a backstabbing two faced son of a bitch, but he keeps pulling through for us at the last moment, and he obviously cares deeply about his disciples! We all love him! He might be a dick, but he's our dick!

All while Shen Jiu is very much stuck in a Paranoid Torment Nexus of his own creation

he becomes the peaks' horrid little cat, is what I'm saying

[reddogf13]

Pride & Ruin CH 9

on A03 as well

Alcina X Ethan

summery: Determined to find his daughter Ethan Winters, an omega, storms the castle of Alcina Dimitrescu, an alpha. While fleeing her three beta daughters Ethan has the unfortunate luck of being snagged on the alphas claws. Slipping out a yelp, Ethan fears the worst. Instead, luck will be in his favor under a prideful alpha and Miranda’s plans will fall to ruin.

Status: Incomplete

Rated: M - fowl language and gore

Previous chap: Ch:8 Cascade

Next chap: TBA

___________________

~Ch:9 Tokens & Memoirs~

Quick scrawling on one of her fine document papers with imprinted flowers. She folded it into an envelope for Bela to hand off. Her daughter took it without complaint, but wanted to. What glimpse she got of it was long and dense, beyond a regular list of chores. Aggravated by her mothers temper trickling down to Ethan. Clearing herself of anger before meeting back with Ethan. Talking with Cassandra at the dining table about the nearby lands to settle best. Flourishing deer populations to the rivers full of fish by well flat lands for farming. Daniela, sitting nearby, wasn't paying much attention. Rather keeping rosemary preoccupied with a small teddy bear.

“The colder seasons will be the hardest to get through. That's why you want to smoke as much meat as you can the rest of the year. Learn to jar your harvest soon after to keep longer.” explaining while Ethan looked overwhelmed taking notes.

Helping him take a break, Bela interrupted. “I have your list.” slipping the thick envelope into his hands.

“oh, thank you.” slipping out the list for a quick read over.

Cassandra squinted at the dense list. Brows furrowing, she looked to her sister. Who gave a half roll of her eyes. She knew that look after Bela talked to their mother. Rolling her eyes in a similar fashion.

Daniela's curiosity had her ask. “What's the list for?”

“work.” Ethan answered.

“ALL of that?!”

“erm- it's not too bad.” awkwardly smiling in slipping the list away. “I’ll get it done.” standing he looked to his daughter.

Bela answered a question he hadn't even asked yet. “we’ll watch her.”

“are you sure?”

“She'll be fine, focus on your work.”

“thanks.” knowing the first thing was chopping firewood. He headed toward the more open half of the property. He’d been outside before, but that was in the courtyard. More nervous than usual that a Lycan would come out of nowhere. Cassandra said she hadn't seen any on her patrols. Having looked for them since after the fight. Finding the chopping block with a prepped stack of logs nearby he slipped out the list. Double checking for any instructions to cut he read a general “restock the castle piles.” There was nothing else to read from it and yet he enjoyed going over her curvy handwriting. Taking in the scent of her, flowing off the paper. He tucked it back into the envelope, leaving its top folded open to continue catching its gentle fragrance. Carefully tucking it into an upper pocket of his jacket he got started on his first task. By the time he was done he felt that he was falling behind. Heart slowly weighed down that he was failing. A thought nagging at the back of his mind. Have to work faster. Simply moving to the next task turned into a running sprint. Dusting everything, reordering the library after returning books piled around. Mopping, cleaning carpets alongside the drapes, scrubbing the windows until it looked like the glass was non existent. finishing hardly a quarter of the entire list. Inner thought drilling him to work faster. She’ll be disappointed.

Skipping lunch he burned through a heap of other tasks. Waxing furniture, polishing floors, tossing garbage, going over the kitchen for rotten goods. Clearing the lower roofs of tree junk. He was going to polish metal suits in the armory, but Cassandra chased him out as it was “hers”. By dinner he had managed to complete the impossible list. He was sure there were easily five-hundred chores on that floral paper. Everything ached and it was the first time he devoured his whole dinner to Bela's surprise. It didn't make it out the kitchen when Ethan came in to devour his set plate.

“you alright?”

taking a deep breath after swallowing his last bite. “I finished the list.”

“the whole thing?!”

he leaned against a counter, giving an exhausted nod. “yeah, I’ll need another.”

“Alright, let's go see mother. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to know you finished.” she better be. Bela thought while escorting him back to her mothers den. Giving a swift knock she received no answer. Annoyed, she was going to knock again more harshly. Seeing how tired Ethan was standing beside her she decided on entering anyway. Chancing her mothers temper, but they found the room empty. “ah, she must still be in her office.” glancing back at Ethan struggling to go any further looking about ready to die if he had to walk anywhere else. “stay here, I’ll fetch her.”

“you don’t have to.”

“It's fine, she has to eat dinner anyway. can't do that over business papers.” rushing off to leave Ethan alone in the room.

He let out a tired breath after she was gone. Fuck, what will I feel like tomorrow? A Lycan's chew toy? Swallowing through the aches and pains, what helped the most was breathing. Surrounded by her scent around the room gave some ease. He looked toward the couch, wanting to sit, but it felt so far a walk. The next closest was her bed. He hesitantly took the few steps over to lean on it. Hissing at the mixed feeling of relief and re-freshened aches elsewhere. Staring down at the plush bed calling him to lay down and rest. Sitting would be fine. Long as I get up when they come back. already easing on the bed's edge by the time his thought finished. Body letting out all sorts of cracking pops as if settling back into his proper positions. He winced the most when his back relaxed, despite still giving a sense of being locked in bent shape.

A few deep breaths tempted him to relax further. Coming up with an excuse he didn't bother to fight. Just to stretch my back out. Doing just that after laying back to further sounds of snapping down his spine. Groaning out of pain mixed relief he shut his eyes to lay there briefly. Okay, I should get up. his mind thought, but body refused to follow. Hesitation leading him into a deeply needed sleep.

While Bela had just reached her mothers office. Baby rose on the verge of sleep in her arms, assuming Ethan would want her back for bed time. She gingerly entered her mothers office. “dinners ready. … and Ethan finished his chores.”

Alcina seemed disinterested in the announcement. “good.” was her only answer while looking over papers. “I’ll be done here in a few minutes. You can set my dinner in my room.” writing a few things.

Bela hid her building frustration. Taking in a calming breath she requested. “He needs a list for tomorrow.”

“tomorrow?!” attention snapping to her daughter. “He finished that whole list?!”

“yes?”

“that list was for the month!”

“...oh. … we thought-...” fidgeting with Rose at the misunderstanding. Usually her mother formatted lists a bit differently on how they’d be taken each day. “It was really dense.” pointing out the issue.

Alcina rubbed the bridge of her nose. “...yes, it was.” recognizing the mistake. “Where's he now?”

“I left him in your room. He’s waiting for another list.”

setting down her pen she stood from her desk. “Well, let's go talk to him then.”

Bela perked at her mother going to see Ethan. After trying so hard to gain at least some crossing of each other's presence. Thoughts going back and forth on how their meeting would go while following her mother. Passing to get ahead on opening the door for her.

“mm.” Alcina hummed when she found Ethan sleeping at the end of her bed. Arms resting on his chest with his legs hanging over the edge.

“he worked through the entire day. I don’t think he had lunch by how quick he got dinner down.” trying to pacify any anger her mother would have toward finding him on her bed. “want me to wake him?”

softly spoken, so casually. “no, he’s earned it.” hiding her excitement for the omega sleeping on her bed, in her personal den.

“Should I give Rose to Beneviento?”

“mm, no, I’ll take her. When he wakes we’ll talk and he can take her to bed.” gently taking the bundle who woke from the moment. Humming to her a soft tune from long ago the fussing little girl went right back to sleep. Smiling in satisfaction to herself she turned to Bela. “has she eaten?”

“Yes, mother. Should I bring your dinner?”

“Yes, and a few bottles.”

Her daughter nodded and swiftly swarmed away to fetch what was asked. While Alcina stepped over to her large arm chair to sit at a small side table. Softly looking down at the child sleeping in her arms, then over to winters. Looking just as sound asleep on the thin bedding. That annoying itch of the improper nest coming to haunt her. Followed shortly by the bitter knowledge that it doesn't matter. Smile drooping then forced back on with Bela's arrival. Loving the elegant plate before her of roast pork in a hot broth of mixed vegetables. “wonderful choice.” she complimented the plate set for her.

“Thank you, mother. Cassandra caught it this morning.”

“should have known.” dipping her head as Bela left for dinner with her sisters. Taking up a fork to get started she eventually finished her meal. Ethan was still deeply sleeping on her bed and rose being the same in her arms. He needs the sleep. Passing on waking him she gathered up her nightwear to go change in her private bath. A simple switch into fresh pajamas covered by her silk robe she lightly tied at her waist. Shutting her bed canopy for the most part without disturbing Ethan. Going around to the other side to get into bed. She was still going to sleep here, despite Ethan's presence. It was the only bed big enough for her height and there was more than enough room for them both anyway.

Meanwhile Bela finally had time alone to bother Donna without her sisters watching. A bit late on catching up she had to shake Donna awake. “Donna! Donna!”

she sat up with Angie waking too in the chair sat near. “What do you want?!” snapping from their disturbed sleep.

“Ethan's sleeping in mothers bed! What do we do?!”

“Wow, already?!” looking to Donna. “we’re better match makers than I thought.”

Donna waved up a hand then rubbed her face to wake up more thoroughly. “wait.” she mumbled in her whispered voice.

“think they’ll be okay?”

“They are in bed together.” Angie snickered. “then again with the height difference-”

“not like that! He fell asleep right after finishing that huge list of chores and mother let him stay.”

“gah, got our hopes up for nothing!” tossing her arms up then dropping them to create a small clacking noise. “same as before, gotta wait. This is progress still. If you keep passing gifts he’ll keep drifting toward her. And as long as he doesn't leave to some vacant forest plot. All should be well.”

After Ethan's rejection, they all assumed that was that. Ethan would eventually leave with rose. Alcina would naturally go through the rejection stage. The agitation, the seclusion, destruction of objects, and short fuse with others. But they didn't expect it from Ethan. The two refused to see that some bonding had occurred. First sign being during the alpha battle, running off to provide support for his bonded alpha. then his following symptoms in the castle. Lack of appetite, lack of sleep, his wandering nights of the castle were an urge to find her, but of course she was going through rejection in seclusion.

Everyone refused to confront the elephant in the room. Ethan had nowhere to go, they had bonded and the vast denial that they were in was harming both their health. Donna and Bela, as each sides betas, agreed to nudge them together. Starting with the courting gifts. Alcina certainly wasn't going to give more, so they had to sneak some from her. Instincts couldn’t tell the difference between a gift and a gift. All they needed was to pass something from her with her scent all over it. The list of chores worked perfectly with Bela lacking her own scent to taint it before delivery.

“I hope this speeds up mothers healing.”

“if he stays all night in that room it will. Maybe she’ll actually join the dinner table again.”

“What should we do tomorrow? I’m sure mother will give him another list. That’ll buy us more time before he leaves.”

“A lot of waiting, try to up the meetings. We’ll have to leave to press that.”

“leave? but what if he wants to follow?”

“he won’t, can’t- sorta. he won’t want to and can't if he works here. A small talk will convince him to stay, no problem. Without us he’s going to attach to someone else. Maybe you, for a bit, but it won’t last. We’ll see how he is tomorrow.”

Bela nodded. “Thank you, sorry I woke you for this.” stepping toward the doorway.

“part of the job.” even Donna's need for sleep oozed through Angie’s voice.

Donna managed to whisper mumble a “good night.” as Bela left.

Ethan slowly woke to the cold coming over him. Aches throbbing at every part of his body he slowly opened his eyes to the darkened room. The fire had been out for so long that even the embers had died. What light there was, was of the moon coming through the large windows. Squinting at the canopy being mostly closed and blocking that. He was slow to notice the other in bed with him. Opening amber eyes, catching the light, flicked fully to his direction at the minor moment he did. He tensed, remembering where he was and who he was laying before. Sitting up suddenly, locked up in pain he winced out an apology. “sorry.” wanting to get up, but his sore body wouldn’t allow it. Stuck wallowing in guilt at his stupid action.

“you’re fine.” she softly soothed. “your rest is well deserved. I didn't mean for that list to be done so soon. It was meant for a whole month. I apologize for not organizing the list better.”

“oh, it's fine. …” glancing around in preparation to get up. The mere thought had his body screaming at him. Developing a fear that he’d faceplant right out of bed.

Even she could see his inner fight over leaving. Softly coaxing him. “You can rest back down.”

“...thanks.” still mildly worried about being intruding, but if she said it was fine. About to ease back down when he stiffened up again. “I have to get-!”

“She's here.” easing him as she lifted a hand to gesture over the child resting at her chest. “Do you want her?”

not wanting to wake her. “...no.” Fully easing back again he held in a groan of pain rushing over. Breathing out a long tired breath the worry of leaving his child in the alphas arms hadn’t crossed his mind. Neither did the thought of how the alpha would react. She was elated to be trusted with the omegas child. He only began worrying when he heard Rose fussing from her sleep. Opening an eye to watch if she’d calm down again. He didn't have to watch long after Alcina began to hum a tune. Ethan himself was eased into almost falling asleep again when Déjà vu hit him like a truck. He heard that tune before, many times, when putting rose to bed he’d start the CD player. Taking out a disk, snapping the case shut, reading the band's name as- “Miss D?!” he leaned up, pain stopping him from sitting up too fast. The mentioned name had Alcina's face scrunch. “You were in a band! With the Pallboys!” everything on the CD case hitting him at once.

“ugh, who told you about that?”

“No one, we have a CD back home.”

“oh, one of those is still around?” giving a half eye-roll.

“Rose likes it. It helps her fall asleep.”

“Well, of course.” she smirked. “She has good taste.”

“you don’t seem to like it much.”

her smile dropped. “mm, those bright stardom days on stage weren’t very bright behind the scenes.”

“oh.”

“that was long ago.” waving as if she could shoo the memories away. “my girls hardly know about it and I rather keep it that way.”

“Do you still sing?”

“somewhat, not for show. For myself when I’m bored over paperwork.”

“… what happened?” treading lightly on the subject.

She let out a long breath through her nose. “… a lot of messes. Money, drugs, politics wrapped up in death. So many cover ups. … I couldn’t keep up with that life. Even if my-... health had been better. At the time. I needed the money and most jobs were too strenuous. But singing was easy, started in late night bars. Got wrangled into a band who needed a singer. We grew to play at all the grand jazz clubs. We traveled for a time to play place to place. We even went to America on a few occasions. Then things unraveled when world war two hit. Money was tight, travel was restricted, clubs and bars didn't have the party atmosphere they used to have. The nights under the spotlight weren’t worth it anymore. Most of the band was suddenly drafted. Us remaining tried to go on. We dipped into addictions to escape the stress and nightmares of a worsening war. I hated everyone that I used to see as family. It was all business deals, to keep us on stage or to keep our lives. We were at each other's throats. Favors had to be paid, far too degrading, for a measly bit of time until the next demand. Even after the war and things turned back to some form of normalcy. We had far too much debt to pay. some of the boys never returned from war. The ones that did drowned their sorrows and took it out on me when they had no bottles to stare into. For years I stayed for the money in the end, but that was drying up. It hit me how far I’d fallen when I started paying to keep us going to the next show. I was fighting alone to get the remaining boys on stage. I was cornered and desperate for an out when I got a letter. Some distant relative of mine had died and being the lone decedent I was to be given all the estate.” remembering that elegant letter, its cursive writing was far too familiar now to who wrote it. “by what was promised I didn't know if it was true or some cruel trick. Either way, I couldn’t keep living how I was. My only out was to spend all I scrounged up to flee in the night.” taking another deep breath. “hopped on a ship, some flights, a carriage ride and made it here. You can fill in the rest.” letting out a low growl she changed to a rough hum to keep from startling him. “may they all be rotting in hell.”

“… I’m sorry.”

“No need, you weren’t there.”

“Is that why?... you hate men?" During all his running, there was a curiosity for her rich hatred. All the insults thrown his way to how she reacted to him like a plagued rat. All that hate had to come from somewhere, after all.

“mm, very much so. … but I’ll give you a pass.” she clarified. “you’re harmless, mostly. Far too good a shot.” her joke had them both chuckle.

“mm, had a lot of practice.”

“the Bakers?” remembering all the descriptions Ethan gave about his scars.

“yeah. My wife disappeared - she had a lot of secrets. I got a message from her, years later, after I thought she was dead. I rushed to Louisiana and swam through corpse water. Fought off black mold creatures with teeth that would make a crocodile jealous.” smiling lightly when he heard a chuckle. “a whole family infected by the stuff that twisted and mutated into things I can't really describe. A false human being who looked like an old woman and a child. Mocking me for not wanting to join the family she was making. Destroyed the infection and was swept away to be interrogated for hours about things I hardly had a clue about.

Lots of therapy, lots of couples therapy. I thought I could get it all behind me, but I don’t know. A part of my sanity’s gone? It's like a chunk of me has been left behind in Louisiana. We kept living, had Rose and I felt more whole again in a long while. Replacing it was living in paranoia for something to happen...” gesturing an arm up to flop back down. “Here we are.” ow. Wincing at the movement.

“I imagine you’re still tired from it all.” taking up one of the extra blanket layers to toss over him. “Let's put those memories to rest, before the sun catches us, and let yourself recover after today.”

He hummed in agreement. Shuffling the blanket around to cover him he caught the comforting scent of her off it. Shutting his eyes easier than the past few nights.

-----------

aye, merry Christmas. :v//

managed to get this one done for the holiday, but unfortunately i am officially out of pre-written chapters. so from here on updates will be very random.

[sweetinsaniiity]

MASTERLIST

𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

I'm Aren and if you're here, you should probably be re-thinking your choices, because clearly, they’re questionable.

I write Ateez fanfics most of the time, if not all the time, in oneshot formats. I can definitely write a series, but will I? Who knows.

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄. If in any need to translate my work, please message me. Most likely I'll message back.

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐙𝐄. There are more than a million words in the dictionary (Source: Oxford. If I'm wrong? Sue them, not me), and you have the need to replicate mine? You can do better than that.

𝐌𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃. 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞-𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. However, I am slow in producing them. I take great pride in the quality of my work, which constitutes me doing my utmost best in giving you what you want to see, and I will not sacrifice that quality for something quick and easy. If that's what you want, then I'm not the author for you. Thank you for understanding.

𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒: @keopihaus @dove-net @ksmutsociety @cromernet @othersideoutlawsnetwork @pirateeznet @illusionnet

𝒦𝒾𝓂 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑔𝒿𝑜𝑜𝓃𝑔

𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 - Your sleight of hand gets you in trouble one day when you are caught stealing red-handed.

𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚 - You were forced in an arranged to pay for your uncle's debt, but you ended up discovering secrets about Hongjoong that could potentially ruin you and can't get out from.

𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝒮𝑒𝑜𝓃𝑔𝒽𝓌𝒶

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲 - Seonghwa's obsession with you knew no bounds and he will do everything and anything to have you whether you liked it or not and whether it was bordering on the moral grey of things.

𝒥𝑒𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝓃𝒽𝑜

𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 - You are an ex-princess and your kingdom has been taken over by another King, Yunho, and he will break you because your father ruined everybody's lives when he was king.

𝒦𝒶𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝑒𝑜𝓈𝒶𝓃𝑔

𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐧 𝐌𝐞 - You fall in love with the campus outcast whose face you have never seen before since he always wears a mask.

𝒞𝒽𝑜𝒾 𝒮𝒶𝓃

𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐞 - You and San switch bodies and have to pretend to be each other despite the fact that you hate him.

𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐈 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 - An intruder breaks into your home and does unspeakable things to you.

𝒮𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝑀𝒾𝓃𝑔𝒾

𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤, 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 - You encounter a man who prevents you from leaving by tying a rope on your wrists while holding the other end with his big, strong hands.

𝒥𝓊𝓃𝑔 𝒲𝑜𝑜𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓃𝑔

𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 - You fall in love with your best friend but it's unrequited.

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐞 - Wooyoung is a sex worker you met and kept calling not to do the deed, but for company and his comfort. Until, you develop these unexplainable butterflies in your chest.

𝒞𝒽𝑜𝒾 𝒥𝑜𝓃𝑔𝒽𝑜

𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐎𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 - Your beloved comes back to you after five years, except he wasn't the one you loved all those years.

ℛ𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓂 ℋ𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈:

ateez as !mafia members

soft-turned-dom!San request

free use!San request

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hii! How’s ur day?^_^

My request is, what if the reader is nervous to confess to Stanford, and Mabel helps them?

If ur able to do this thank you, and I love ur fanfics!

I decide to be a little mean here, whether it’ll be a misunderstanding on your part for Ford’s reaction or not, I’ll leave it up to fate. Hope you enjoy!

Part 2 right here

Mabel could tell immediately that you liked Ford but didn’t have the confidence to say anything to him in the slightest, and it disheartened the poor girl to see a potential romance that’ll never happen due to your fears of rejection.

So she decided that you needed the power of Mabel to gain the confidence to confess to Ford about how you truly felt because she knew deep down in her heart that Ford felt the same, he was just as awkward about as you were about his feelings.

(She may or may not have sneaked a peak inside his hours on his entry on you and felt as though she was reading a poem with how passionate he seemed to be about you, so much so it was enough to make her shed a tear)

‘But what if he meant all of that in a platonic way?’ You asked Mabel when she told you about the journal entry that she shouldn’t have read.

Mabel pouts and puts her bawled fists on her sides. ‘Is this the insecurities talking? You are amazing, fantastic, wonderful and a delight to have in someone’s life and Grunkle Ford would a stupid stupid head if he didn’t see the greatness you posses! Which he does and you should not let fear stand in the way of love!’ She exclaims as she dramatically posed, she really was Stanley’s grandniece that was for certain and undisputed.

‘Still, what would I even say to him?’ You asked as you sat down on the edge of your bed, holding your face in your hands. ‘I can’t just go up to him and say I like him, it’s too forward-‘

‘And totally not romantic nor memorable to tell your future descendants at all.’ Mabel adds which only made you flustered at the aspect that Mabel believed in your and Ford’s relationship that much, but Mabel always loved to look ahead to the future in an optimistic light, while taking great pride in having fun in the present with the people she cared about while she could before it was too late.

‘What if he finds me unbearable?’

‘Stop it with the what ifs!’ Mabel exclaimed as she walked over to you with a determined look in her eye, she had about enough of you looking down on yourself, and then using it as a scapegoat as to avoid confessing your burning feelings for her Grunkle Ford. ‘Ford likes you, I see it in his eyes when he looked at you, he looks at you as though you hung the stars in the sky! You take his breath away effortlessly and I see the way his cheeks get all pink when you compliment his turtleneck! What else could you probable want to be affirmed that he actually likes you!’

‘What’s going on in here, I could hear Mabel shouting from down the stairs, is everything okay?’ Ford asked when he opened the door to see you sat on the edge of your bed and Mabel looking as though her face couldn’t get any redder.

‘Yes every-‘ Mabel give you a pointed look and mouthed the words: tell him or I will.

You sighed and Ford only seems to grow more confused and worried about what he had walked in on by pure curiosity. ‘Y/n?’ He asked softly this time. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘I have something to tell you-‘ Mabel squeals ‘-alone.’ You finished all the while giving Mabel a pointed look as she pouted like a kicked puppy, she wanted to have a front row seat to the confession but she guessed outside the door would have to do for now as she shut the door behind her, leaving you and Ford alone like you wanted.

‘What’s wrong?’ Ford sat next to you, his beautiful eyes full of worry and concern as they flickered across your face as though he could see the things that were worrying you as though it was written across your forehead.

‘It’s nothing bad I promise it’s just that I…Ive been made aware of something that I fear might ruin our friendship.’ You said as you found yourself wanting to back away from actually confessing and leave it at that, but Mabel might as well have locked you both in the room for all you were aware until you actually did tell Ford that he tormented your heart in the best way possible.

‘I’m sure it won’t, there’s nothing that you could-‘

‘I really like you Ford, romantically.’ You blurted out as a silence befell the both of you that you swore you could hear a pin drop somewhere as you awaited the worst.

Ford looked at you for a prolonged period of time as though he was stuck in place and it only made your fears worsen when he had yet to say anything.

‘Ford? Say something please.’ You pleaded but what you weren’t expecting was for Ford to silently stand up and leave the room, closing the door behind him and soon enough you could hear your heart break as you heard him walk down the stairs, probably to go back to his lab for the rest of the day.

‘What happened.’ Mable asked as she walked back into the bedroom to see your broken state as you looked at her with a weak smile.

‘I lost him.’ You tell her before burrowing your head into your hands and for once Mabel didn’t know how to fix this…

[cas-edspace]

So, the other day, I have came up the best headcanon. It is best because in fanfic world, it would be so true.

Doc and Grian had definitely fought to see who could propose to their respective boyfriends first and in the most extravagant way:

I like to imagine they both had these immaculate buildups to proposing and the plans somehow always fall through-

Like Scar gets random food poisoning! Just as Doc got on one knee, with Ren’s back turned, and poof, Ren is sent to the Life Games. Grian and Doc are rightfully upset, but you can’t blame your actively suffering partner-

They both keep trying and trying, sometimes the mood is ruined, or get more emotional and proposing during an already emotionally exhausting conversation, but Doc and Grian is definitely glad that those convos happened as when your partner opens up to you, you listen and adapt. So, when Doc went simple and took Ren to an expensive restaurant and they got attacked by a monster hunter. Ren didn’t fight back as, they were in public and attacking as a werewolf can get him put down. Doc, thankfully, defended Ren pretty easily (war veteran and godkiller ftw) and learning that werewolves specifically are still considered big threats even if they’re almost extinct. Something else he learned that night is that Doc makes Ren feel so safe, that he isn’t paranoid with him around.

Grian took Scar to an amusement park, and he found that Scar doesn’t trust their machines. Scar, to this day, brags about being right as the Ferris Wheel breaks with them on it. The vex goes to explain that he only trusts his fellow hermits and Disneyland. Grian didn’t like seeing Scar all tense in his fear, especially not when he’s afraid in such uncontrolled space. Like when Grian scares Scar on Hermitcraft, Scar knows he is safe, even safe to die on the world, but the hub world? And in some machine that probably doesn’t see as much detailed inspection as it should? Count him out.

Eventually, when they do propose? It wasn’t anything grand, just spur of the moment confession.

Ren and Doc are lying in bed, one’s tired from building all day and the other from planning. Doc half asleep just asks, and Ren laughs, and reminds them that on their vacation during Limited Life, that in the eyes of the law, they already are. They got drunk and married back then. And that Ren proposed that night. Doc jokes that this is how he’ll tell everyone that they got engaged, which got Ren to sleepy giggle.

“Okay, fine, and the answer is always yes, Doctor.”

“I love you, Ren.”

“I love you too, Doc, forever.”

Grian, at the end of Secret Life, after everyone else left the server, proposes. Scar falls even harder for him that day. The simplicity, the soft expression mixed with a bit of pride, the genuine vulnerability- even Grian’s eyes open to plead at him to just say yes. And, to Grian, that day’s Scar smile was only beaten by the one Scar smiles when he says “I do”

So in the end, Ren won their secret competition, much to the dismay of Grian and little to Doc, because Doc can’t really be upset to learn that he’s already married to the love of his life, he just wishes that he remembers that night. (And how he managed to stop Ren from getting sent to the games. Doctor M 77 will rather fight the Buttercups again than allow himself be powerless against the games, against this routine thing that only brings his husband and friends intense trauma.)