#To mend and break fanfic

[stormhearty]

Pairings: Former Rhysand x Reader, Feysand, Tarquin x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Triggers: mentions of depression, relapse, attempts at suicide

Summary: It has been two decades since you left Night Court, leaving the life you had always known. It had been five years since you were in Dawn Court, slowly healing with the help of its High Lord. Now, you had resided in Summer Court, Tarquin by your side through your healing process. But when a mating bond snaps between the two of you when your health turns for the worse, how would you process something that you never thought would happen in your immortal life? And when you decide to confront your former family, would you forgive them for their past discretions? The story of the aftermath of your broken heart of glass.

Note: From this request! Thank you so much for wanting a second part to “Breaking Like Glass”!! I love that everyone enjoyed that fic’s immense angst, so I will gladly give you guys the fluff, romance, and healing the reader needs. And I do hope this isn’t cheesy. I struggled a bit on writing this, whether to debate to make it angsty, but I feel like, it has enough of the balance. Please do enjoy!

Breaking Like Glass | Masterlist

“You know, my stardust, you don't have to do this… We can have our mating ceremony with our family. We don't have to invite Night Court…”

You let out a thoughtful hum as you lounged in one of the lounging chairs in Tarquin’s office, book in hand. You placed a finger on your page before looking over your shoulder at the High Lord of Summer, who looked at you with concern etched on his beautiful features.

After centuries of being with Rhysand, you had always thought that you would be content in not finding your mate. You had thought, and wished, that you would have eternity with the High Lord of Night Court. However, with the fiasco two decades ago, all you wanted to do was heal — fix your broken heart and mind from your torture from Under the Mountain, to fix your broken soul from being ripped apart by your family. You did not want to fall in love — you didn’t want to give your taped-up heart to someone and be worried about having it torn apart again.

You had safe-guarded your heart behind high, metal walls with a fog of darkness to protect it — to protect you from breaking all over again, and losing yourself once more.

But what you had never dreamed of was a mating bond to snap.

And you never thought it would be with another High Lord.

The very moment you had stepped into Summer soil, Tarquin had been nothing but kind and gentle, helping you through your decade of healing. He allowed you to take your time — he allowed you to wallow, he allowed you to be silent, he allowed you to grieve, something that you never were able to do while you were in Valeris. He allowed you to cry in anguish, he allowed you to cry in pain — he allowed the forty-nine years of suffering to seep out of your aching body. And he was silently there, beside you, watching over you… to ensure you were safe and well cared for while you did.

And that was all you could have wished for while you were healing. You didn’t need words, you didn’t need condolences… Tarquin allowed you to heal in the way that your heart and mind needed.

All the while Tarquin healed your broken soul that came upon the betrayal from Night Court, you would be sent back to Dawn Court to mend your mind and body from the tortures of the Attor. The two High Lords worked in tandem with one another… all for you. Both Tarquin and Thesan realized your worth, both realized your importance and believed it was worth their power and time to heal you.

It had been five years since you came from Dawn Court when the mating bond snapped between you and Tarquin.

It was when your nightmares had resurrected themselves from the grave, haunting you thoroughly to the point you had relapsed back from your progress.

You had screamed and clawed against everything that had neared you, your eyes frantic at the absolute fear and dread of returning to that moment in your life — the pain of the Attor and betrayal of your husband, that still lurked in the darkness of your fear. You had hurt yourself, multiple times during that relapse — skin broken with knives, daggers, broken glass — anything that your hands got to… hoping for the pain to seep out of your skin.

But Tarquin was there through all of that — grabbing and hiding everything that you could try to hurt yourself with. He fought tooth and nail to get to you, whispering sweet nothings — that you were worth it, you were worth the pain and anguish, that you were worth everything. And that you would get through the pain — and that he’d be right beside you through it.

You couldn’t feel it, the glow of the mating bond between the two of you — for you were too shrouded in your fear to notice.

All the while, Tarquin felt every emotion you had felt — the despair, the anguish, the pain that wracked your body. He fought back all the tears as he held you against him, pouring as much care and love through the newly found bond.

The relapse had taken an immense hit on your health — you were sick for weeks on end, going in and out of consciousness barely able to make out who had been taking care of you.

When you had been well enough, you had learned that Tarquin, himself, had been the one to care for you during your illness. And you, though you shouldn’t have been, was surprised at that fact. The High Lord of Summer Court took time away from his busy schedule to tend to you. He had owed you nothing… and yet he had taken time to care for you.

“Why did you do that…?” you had asked, storming into his office, pausing mid-step when you had seen Thesan and the Captain in the room. It seemed that you had interrupted an important meeting between the two High Lords — possibly about your condition.

Tarquin looked at you for a moment, a gentle sigh escaping his lips as he looked at Thesan and gave him an apologetic nod of his head. Thesan glanced between the two of you before standing up from his seat on the plush couch and heading your way. The High Lord of Dawn smiled at you, leaning down to press a kiss onto the crown of your head, “Hello, my child… be nice to him…”

The request was confusing to you as you allowed the High Lord and Captain to step out of the room, the click of the door resonating behind you — leaving you and Tarquin alone in that grand room. The atmosphere grew awkward and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip, you glanced everywhere besides the High Lord, and you heard him let out a chuckle.

You frowned, glaring at him slightly before watching him stand up and walk towards you, reaching out a hand for you to hold, “We have much to talk about, (Y/N)…” he murmured.

You stared at his hand, sighing softly before reaching over to place you had on top of his. His had always radiated warmth that you seemed to want to grasp onto often — it was warm and inviting, much like the summer sun he had ruled over. You followed him further into his office, walking past his desk and onto the large balcony overviewing his Court. There was a large settee that Tarquin led you to, sitting you down before he sat next to you, leaving a gap between both of you.

“Now… What was it you were saying, (Y/N)? About why I did that?” he questioned, turquoise hues staring at the massive land of his Court, allowing the summer breeze to greet the two of you.

Relaxing against the settee, you remained quiet for a few moments, eyes fluttering close at the breeze that tickled your skin. When you opened your eyes once more and turned your attention to the High Lord, you were slightly startled when you noticed he was staring at you — something in his eyes sparkling that you were unsure of… or slightly denied.

“…Why did you take care of me when I was ill?” you asked him, not bothering to beat around the bush, “You didn’t owe me anything, this… arrangement between us is only until I get better and can move on from my nightmares—”

“When did I say that this… arrangement is only until you get better?” he interrupted you with a raised brow, “I did not say anything like that. I am allowing you to stay until you want to leave… I’m giving you the choice to stay and to heal the way you need, unlike your time in Night Court. And, I took care of you because I wanted to, (Y/N). I couldn’t let you hurt yourself like you did, to be so haunted by your nightmares every waking second… I couldn’t let you suffer the way Rhysand let you for all those months…”

You flinched at the name of your former husband. It still ached — no matter how long it had been, it still ached hearing his name. Usually, Tarquin and Thesan avoided saying his name around you, both afraid of a possible relapse. You let out a shaky breath, as your eyes stared at something beyond him, a distant stare — feeling yourself move out of your body, a sensation that had started to become normal for you ever since you were in Dawn Court.

Feeling Tarquin’s warmth again, you blinked twice before focusing on him again a small smile tugged on your lips, and shook your head, “…I’m fine…” you whispered, head tilting down to look at your intertwined hands. You took deep breaths, something that Thesan had taught you after your moments of distance.

Tug, tug… you felt something in your chest. Your head tilted in confusion until you felt it again — tug, tug… You lifted your head and looked at the High Lord once more. You saw a twinkle in those turquoise hues, a hopeful look hidden within those depths.

“…What…” you muttered in disbelief, and you felt another tug in your chest.

“You felt it, did you not, (Y/N)?” Tarquin questioned, leaning forward slightly, warm hands gently gripping yours — as if preventing you from running away.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded your head, too scared for any words to escape you.

How could a mating bond happen? After everything that happened to you, your mind and body were broken, being held together by pieces of tape held together by Tarquin and Thesan — you could barely hold yourself together. Your healing process for the past fifteen years was slow, and there were many times when you believed you would never be okay again. How can someone like you be mated to another High Lord? How can someone as broken as you be another leader of a Court?

Thoughts of insecurities passed through your mind, unknowingly sending them down the newly formed bond. You were startled out of your thought by Tarquin’s hand gently caressing your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“You do not have to accept the mating bond, as of yet, (Y/N)… I will wait, you can heal. Just know that I accept you, even if you are broken and torn. You still have years of healing to do, but I will be by your side — always.”

Tears ran down your cheeks as he shifted closer, pressing his hands on your cheeks to wipe them away. All you can do is nod. Allowing the love and warmth of the bond to slowly heal you.

It had been another five years since then. A little over two decades after you left Night Court to accept the bond. For five years, Tarquin had courted you, cared for you… loved you the way you needed. He did not force anything onto you and allowed you to fall in love with him in such a natural way that it felt second nature to you.

“…(Y/N)…” your mate called out to you, snapping out of your trance.

You blinked and refocused on the present, eyes focusing on Tarquin who had moved from his spot at his desk to you, hands rubbing your shoulders. Tilting your head back, you gave him a smile, reaching up with your free hand to reach up to run your fingers against his cheek as he looked down at you.

“No… I would like to invite them. I think… I need closure from my time there. And…” there was hesitance in your voice at the next words, “I do miss them. I lived with them for centuries, and all of a sudden I cut them off my life for a good reason… there are times when I missed them.”

Tarquin hummed understandingly as he squeezed your shoulders, “Understandable. We will invite them… But I worry—-”

“—- I won’t relapse. I promise…” you moved from your lounging position to sitting up, shifting so you were on your knees, at eye level with him. You felt him wrap his arm around your waist so you were steady as your hands placed themselves on his biceps, playing around with the fabric of his outfit, “I’m better — well, as best I can be — but I know you’ll be there… I will be fine.”

There was reluctance in his features, those turquoise hues trying to find any lie in your words before he gave you a nod.

“I concede…” he murmured and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the hesitancy in his words. Pressing a gentle kiss on the High Lord’s cheek, murmuring a thank you before moving back to your position on the lounge chair, picking up your book once more.

You looked back up to just miss the shake of his head, before he wrapped a hand around your neck, tilting your head up so he could lean down to press a kiss on your lips, “After our mating ceremony, I wish for you to initiate our kisses, my stardust…”

Feeling the warmth of your cheeks you stared up at him, “If that is the wish of my High Lord, then it shall happen…”

He let out a low chuckle before pressing another kiss on your lips, your book forgotten on your lap.

The ceremony venue was extravagant, to say the least — Tarquin, as well as Thesan from what you had gathered, pulled all the stops. The throne room of Summer Court was flourishing with flowers and the summer sun radiating down through all the large windows.

You were a nervous mess sitting in your room. It was still several hours before the ceremony, that you weren’t too nervous for; it was the fact that you were going to meet your old family once more.

The Captain of Dawn, your dear friend, had informed you that the Inner Circle just arrived at the outskirts of Summer Court. And that set off your nerves completely.

You had requested, when you had sent the letter to Night Court, to meet with them before your ceremony — to officially close the wounds between all of you.

And so when a knock startled you out of your worries, you turned around in your chair from your vanity where you were getting ready. Watching those doors open to reveal your old family.

There stood Rhysand, in his Night Court attire along with Feyre, who was at his side. There was a pang in your chest, the pain of their betrayal somehow festering its way back into your heart. But it was slowly soothed out by the warmth of the mating bond that Tarquin seemed to have sent your way. The doors closed behind the Inner Circle, and you noticed the Captain of Dawn stationed at the door.

Thesan’s lover is quite a busybody isn’t he…? You had sent down the bond to your mate. And all you felt was Tarquin’s chuckle as you focused back on the now.

You slowly stood up, a small smile on your features before you watched from the corner of your eye Mor heading to a sprint and giving you the biggest hug.

“… I’m so sorry, (Y/N)…” she apologized, the words repeating on her lips as she squeezed you, burying her head into your neck.

Tears pricked the edge of your eyes as your arms wrapped around her and you buried your head to the crook of her neck, letting the blond curls tickle your face.

“… Mor…” you whined her name.

A sob wracked through the blonde’s body, “I’m just glad you’re okay. That you’re better…” she whispered before pulling back and staring at you, “I’m glad you found your mate. I’m glad that he’s making you happy — that you deserve happiness — after all the shit you went through and everything we had put you under…”

You smiled at her as you felt her cup your cheeks, nodding your head, “… — Thank you, Mor. I’m glad to see you again, truly. I missed you so much…”

A smile tugged on Mor’s features, “We will see each other more… if you let us.”

You nodded your head as she stepped away, allowing the rest of the Inner Court to greet you — hugging you and whispering their utmost apologies and congratulations.

Cassian had lifted you into his arms, something he used to do often when you were his Lady still, giving you a spin, “You will always be my Lady, (Y/N)…” he whispered into your ears, pressing a kiss against your cheek before literally handing you off to Azriel.

A giggle escaped your lips as you hugged the Spymaster as he pressed a kiss on your opposite cheek, “We will forever live with the regret of losing you…” Azriel hummed out, “We had and always will love you… But I wish for nothing but happiness for you…”

Your heart flourished at the words of your former family — the words that you had wished to hear two decades ago — slowly piecing your heart and soul back together. You had known, while you were healing, that they had always cared for you and that never meant to put so much pressure on you, unknowing of your nightmares and struggles after being Under the Mountain.

When you were settled back onto your feet, you turned to face Rhysand. The tension between the two of you was still high and you fought back all the urge to just run away from this confrontation between the two of you. You gave him a small smile before focusing your attention on Feyre who stepped up, reaching out to hold your hands.

“I am truly sorry…” she whispered, leaning forward to press her forehead against yours.

You understood why Rhysand fell in love with Feyre. You had heard of the great deeds she had done for Night Court, for Prythian… she was something you could never have been next to Rhysand. The true High Lady of Night Court.

And somehow, you were okay with it.

Shaking your head, you looked at the High Lady, “…You were just following the feeling of the mating bond. Like I said that night, I cannot fault you for choosing your mate. I cannot fault you for following the tug… I — I would like to extend my congratulations —-”

Feyre shook her head, brows knitting at your words, “Do not, please. I will not accept that not when I have unknowingly broken you along with the rest of your family. ”

You looked at her, nodding your head as you felt her step back and the familiar scent and presence of your former husband taking her place. You lifted your eyes to look into violet ones — ones that sparkled with regret, ones that you were in love with for so long.

Even if it was two decades that passed, you felt like you were still in sync with him, knowing what he wanted. Turning onto your heels, you made your way to one of the furthest balconies, Rhysand following your steps. The large window doors closed behind you, leaving both of you in a pocket of privacy away from prying ears. You could see, from the corner of your eye, the Captain making his way closer to the doors and all you could do was hold a hand up — signaling that you were fine and safe.

Turning back around, you focused on Rhysand who’s eyes were solely on you. Stepping past him, you made your way to the railing, pressing your hands on the warm marble, as you basked in the summer sun.

“(Y/N)…” Rhysand whispered one that was so quiet that the wind barely was able to carry it to your sensitive ears.

“I… I cannot forgive you, Rhysand…” you declared, eyes still closed as you let the warmth of your new home wash over you, to comfort you as you confront your past, “I cannot and do not fault you for choosing her. I can see why you had fallen for her — she’s beautiful, both inside and out. But I cannot forgive you for it. You had broken me so much, that there were many times during my healing that I wondered why I wasn’t enough for you to choose me. Wondering what I have done to make you choose someone else other than your wife who stood next to you for centuries.”

You could hear the shaky breath that Rhysand exhaled as you felt him stand next to you on the balcony.

You couldn’t look at him, every fiber in your body shaking to break again if you looked at him. You needed to be strong — for yourself and for the people around you who worried immensely for your health.

“I know… I know you would never forgive me, (Y/N). I have accepted that truth… I just wish things ended differently, you know? I wanted to let you know, that there was not a moment in our centuries together as husband and wife that I wished you were my mate… that there was not a moment that I did not love you…”

A broken laugh escaped your lips as you opened your eyes and looked up at him once more, seeing those unshed tears in violet hues.

“… And there was not a time where I wished you were my mate… But it seems that Mother had a different path for both of us. One that led us away from each other.”

You reached up, with shaky hands, and attempted to touch him; however, your body paused, and with furrowed brows, you dropped your hand back onto your side. You could see Rhysand’s body slouched slightly as if missing your touch. A forced smile tugged onto your lips as you stepped back, creating a significant distance between the two of you, “… I hope you enjoy the ceremony, Rhysand…”

He knew when he was dismissed and he smiled at you before stepping out of the balcony. You watched with longing and pain as he and the Inner Court stepped out of your room.

“… Probably it wasn’t such a good idea to have the two of you alone together…” The Captain commented, stepping onto the balcony, worry in his tone.

“I’m fine… just give me a moment…” you whispered, pressing a hand against your chest, to calm down your heart. You slouched against the railing for a few minutes, feeling the bond in your chest to help your racing heart.

“…Do you need me—-”

“No… I don’t need Tarquin or Thesan right now. They’re in their own state of panic already…”

The Captain let out a chuckle, “That is true… They have set their mind to ensure that this ceremony would be perfect…”

After calming your heart, you straightened up and gave the Captain a light smirk, “…Busybodies the lot of them…” You stepped back into your room, allowing yourself to fix yourself up before the ceremony, the Captain following your trail.

You stood on the dias of the throne room, Tarquin by your side as the priestess started the ceremony. Your gown was a lovely mixture of blue, much like the oceans that crashed below the castle. The priestess’ words had gone deaf in your ears as all you could do was stare up at the High Lord of Summer, love and affection in your features as well as through the bond.

When the priestess had asked for the two of you to exchange vows, Tarquin looked at you with the same look as you did to him, a soft smile on his features.

“Never in my life, I would have thought to find my mate. I had thought that I would rule my Court without a High Lady by my side. But that fateful day I had whisked you away from Thesan and Dawn Court, all I had wished was for you to be mine.

“My stardust…” the nickname always made your heart skip in your chest, “I had fallen in love with you… despite your broken soul and heart. I was honored that you had trusted me enough to help mend your soul from the nightmares that haunted you, and that still haunt you till this day. But I couldn’t let you know of my affections, not when you had set yourself into healing. So I waited, waited for years and when that mating bond snapped, I knew I couldn’t hold out for much longer. I needed you in my arms, I needed to have your eyes set on me — rather than looking into your past. And when you had your relapse… I had to let you know. I had to let you know that you have someone, your mate, to be with you every step of your healing process.”

You felt tears trickle down your cheeks as Tarquin wiped them away, “You deserve this bond after everything that you have been through… the Mother has gifted you this bond. And I am honored to be at the end of that string.”

A sob escaped your lips and you couldn’t even find the words for your own vows. All you could mutter to him as he pressed his forehead against yours, “Thank you… I love you, I thank you, and I am also honored and blessed by the Cauldron to have you as my mate. Thank you for mending my heart. I am glad to give it to you, and not worry about it breaking…”

You watched through a tearful gaze, Tarquin giving you a radiant smile before leaning down to press a kiss on your lips, “And I would never break it… not your heart that is precious like gemstones…”

You laughed as applause reached your ears, leaning up once more to kiss your mate.

Your heart was safe — mended together once more — and you knew it would never break again.

Tagging list: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @abysshaven @prythianpages @leahoneil @rachelnicolee

[nocompromise-noregrets]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Elrond Peredhel & Thranduil Characters: Thranduil (Tolkien), Elrond Peredhel Additional Tags: Valinor (Tolkien), Friendship, Chess, (sort of) Series: Part 58 of My Heart Is An Empty Vessel, Part 19 of Writers' Month 2024 Summary:

Thranduil and Elrond mend some fences.

Written for @writersmonth 2024 day 19, 'chess | park'.

This is for the lovely @redeemer46 who prompted me Elrond and Thranduil talking about how all their kids got caught up with Aragorn for this one - I am not 100% certain how much justice I managed to do it, I don't know if they have chess in Middle-Earth and technically they're in a garden rather than a park, but, uh...hey, anyway! :D (oh god and I've just realised you asked for Elrond/Thranduil - sorry! >.< )

[fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma]

breaking my silence we as a fandom (collective) need to have a quick meeting. now look, we love praising fan artists and giving them lots of love which, hey they deserve it cuz they’re amazing and incredible and talented and should be revered but!! i think we need to give an equated amount of love to fanfic writers. these mfs are a) putting their time and effort into A NON PROFIT PIECE OF MEDIA entirely for their and our benefit just because they want to b) going through life threatening situations to get their chapters out c) using their talents to feed our delusions and desires d) making OUR LITTLE DUMB HEADCANONS COME TO LIFE!! THEY MAKE IT HAPPEN!! THEY MAKE IT REAL!! i will literally forever be indebted to fanfic writers bc no matter if their work gets 10000 hits 10 hits or stays in their notes app they STILL!! WROTE IT!! still took the time to carefully craft and mend their masterpiece!! made someone’s day even if it was their own!!! the fact that some of them come up with LITERALLY HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF WORDS OF FIC feels kinda undermined to me??? like mf they DID THAT AND NO ONE ASKED THEM TO? (mean that positively) LIKE THEY JUST DID? not to mention the research and genuine care that goes into some fics I’ve seen. and the fact that some try to make their fics accessible by writing it so anyone who isn’t even in the fandom understands the story?? anyway. fanfic writers all around not just mutuals (tho i love u guys) truly, you’re amazing. kindergarten teacher voice everyone say thank you fanfic writers. <3333333333

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙written in the stars | DR3˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem y/n reader (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: age gap!!

summary: in which you both meet after break ups and mend each other, or in which the world focuses on the wrong things about your relationship

a/n: kind of an old request i never got round to but i fear i need to break up all the charles reqs with some daniel 🙏 hope u enjoy LOL

request!!!: can i req daniel ricciardo age gap fanfic pls plssss

my masterlist

fc: ruby lynn

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f1gossip daniel ricciardo spotted with rumoured new partner 22 year old y/n y/l/n. the two have sparked controversy recently due to their large age gap.

tagged: danielricciardo, yourusername

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danielricciardo

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danielricciardo life's been a bit of a whirlwind 🌪️

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THE END 🩷

[eccentricallygothic]

please i need a pedri fanfic where his gf gets horny in public and starts teasing him until he takes her somewhere private and fucks her

I love your stories theyre amazinggg

I am (was) on my period hence huge feelies so I added those to this because I am very tender on Pedri as it is. I also see him as a very dominant and caregiving person as well as lover so I hope you don't mind what I've made of your request and enjoy it <3

| Unusual |

Pairing: Bf!Pedri | Gf!You. 

Warning(s): Smut with plot, unprotected p-in-v, d/s undertones (it's literally Pedri), m!dom, f!sub, Daddy kink, suggestive exhibitionism, doggy style, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, creampie, marking, Pedri calling you vida because I am very fond of that idea, caring Pedri, he's also intimidating bc he's Pedri.

.

Pedri sighs as he arrests your impish wrist in his hand for the umpteenth time today and peels it off his thigh before carrying it back to your knee. 

"Vida…" Usually, a stern look is enough for you to mend your ways and start behaving yourself, but today seems to be the day where you decide to grow immunity towards his warnings.

And it usually never comes down to this tone of his because it hardly ever means anything ideal for you. 

But you just can't keep your hands to yourself today. 

You whine under your breath when he resumes his conversation with Gavi; one of his best mates, again. When you are still not paid the attention that you so desperately crave, you sigh and glance around the table at everyone present. 

It is a boring Saturday lunch that the two of you are having with some of your boyfriend's club mates and their girls. You are not to be taken the wrong way. These kinds of things are usually quite fun for you. 

The keyword is usually. 

Because the exception is days when your mind cannot think of anything other than your man's cock while your insides burn. 

The past week was a busy one for Pedri and you are a good girlfriend so you patiently waited, thinking he was gonna give you what you needed most on the night of the big game when he wouldn't have anything left to worry about for a while after. But he was so exhausted when he got home last night that you postponed the fulfillment of your need for the next morning. 

Except, you woke up to your love making breakfast and then informing you over it that the boys had invited you two for lunch. If that wasn't messy enough, he had had some errands to run before said lunch which further crushed any hopes of something quick as well. 

And now, here you are. 

Frustrated, on edge, excited beyond measure, moody, iffy and extremely noncompliant. 

Then, on top of it all, the food is taking forever and the conversations are way too mundane for you; a horny girl who was busy needily ogling at her boyfriend. 

It isn't your fault, really. He looks too fucking great to resist. You know a shave is probably coming and you love him either way but Pedri looks just so hot with the light stubble a few days of negligence has caused on his handsome face. Then his thick dark hair rests on his forehead in the most perfect way as his naturally stern eyes move along with his strong, manly hands each time he makes a gesture. And the way his lips move when he speaks… Your thighs clench at the memories of all the times they have been between them.  

You break against your forced resolve once more when he hums along to whatever Ferran is saying and leans in your direction to pour you a glass of water to drink because you can not track your hydration to save your own life. The sheer dominance in the way he does not break his conservation even once but places the Tumblr in front of you causes a wave of burning hot love to wash over you and then you just can't take it anymore. 

Where you had played with his fingers, snuggled into his arm, groped his thigh and then stroked his leg with your foot before, you think fuck all and 'drop' your napkin which just happens to fall between his feet. 

"Woopsie" of course, Pedri knows you are up to no good when you bend down to 'fetch' it and place your hand on his knee for support. You take your time with 'finding' said napkin and your hand shamelessly trails to his dick in the meantime, hurriedly taking a fat, mighty squeeze before your claw can be pried off its prey. 

Your boyfriend has realized by now to not expect anything innocent from you today because although you are the shy one between the two of you usually, your antics since the moment you took your seats have been of the naughty sort. 

Today is a very unusual day indeed. 

Pedri stills and stops mid sentence, his whole body stiffening as he realizes what is happening. Your party grows concerned over his sudden silence and his ears redden at the awareness of you not coming back up, instead choosing to remain 'searching' for your napkin while clinging your fingers to his now hard cock like your life depends on it. 

"Oh" but of course, the young man is much stronger than you and so your hand is easily manhandled into his. "I see" he pretends as though you have said something to him before standing up and facing your lunch companions. "She needs my help navigating the place for a restroom, we will be right back" the way he cares for you like one would a child is nothing weird for your close friends and family anymore. Pedri helps you out with the smallest of things and the most basic of tasks and that is just the dynamic the two of you share. 

However, there is nothing tender in the way he drags you behind him with a firm hold on your wrist. You whimper when you are taken to a deserted hallway and then pushed into some sort of a cctv-less maintenance room because unless Pedri wants whatever he is about to do to you playing on every other news channel by the evening's end, this would have to do for now. 

"Tsk, tsk, vida" you gulp as you blink repeatedly to get your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. The door slowly clicks shut behind you and you feel your shoulders jump at the sound due to how quiet it is otherwise. You want to turn around and face your lover, perhaps inquire why he's done what he has done but you're both too intimidated and excited to do so. 

Before you can decide what you want to do, his arms snake around your waist from behind to press your back into his chest as his lips brush against your ear. "What am I going to do with you, hm?" A shudder sets off in your bones as his hands begin to re-explore the bumps and crevices of your body. 

You instantly relax in his embrace and crane your neck backwards to lean your head against his shoulder. "I- I dunno…" The two of you move in a sync and his lips find the crook of your neck. "W- What are you going to do with me…?" Though you intend for your words to be one of fear and panic, what ends up dripping from them is pure excitement. 

Pedri groans before your body is pushed up against the many shelves that are mounted on the middle wall that you face. "I think a lesson in basic manners is a good place to start with" you try your best to feign consternation but the eager way in which you fold your arms over one of the shelves and spread your legs as your boyfriend raises the hem of your skirt from behind gives your intentions away. 

"Oh, no!" Yet you push on; so frustrated and needy at this point that any touch from him is good touch for you.

Pedri clicks his tongue before squeezing your panty clad cheeks. "I spoil you too much, don't I, vida?" You let out a soft sound that you subconsciously make when thinking but your boyfriend cuts off your thought process with a loud slap that catches both your cheeks at once. 

"Ow!" You found out just a few days into dating him that he was much stronger than you with how effortlessly he lifted heavy things and manhandled you when you got more comfortable around each other. So it always hurts like a bitch when he's in a reproachful mood. 

"Already?" He taunts you mockingly and lands another mean spank on your buzzing cheeks. "But vida," your eyes flutter close and you have to slither in a heavy gasp when he drapes himself over you from behind, one hand tracing its way up your side to palm one of your boobs, "I haven't even started with you yet." 

"Hnnng, please!" You push your ass backwards to try and turn him on. That is when you realize that he is rock hard already. 

Well, that explains the edge in his usually calm and collected tone. 

"Being a fussy little brat throughout breakfast" two slaps on each cheek. "Refusing to get out of the shower" you hadn't even realized that you had started 'bratting' out of your ire. You whine and bounce as he settles upon a rhythm. "Scrolling your silly little social media instead of getting ready for lunch" he suddenly yanks your panties off and despite the sting in your backside, you feel your needy hole clench before releasing a thick blob of pure hot arousal. "And then behaving like a perverted little maniac throughout–" the sound that the meeting of his unforgiving fingers with your nether lips -due to the gap that your squirming has caused between your thighs- creates is stunning enough to momentarily mum your boyfriend who is usually a composed know-it-all. 

"Hm~!" The sound is tugged out from deep within your vocal cords. Your knees tremble when you feel Pedri's prying fingers worm their way between your crack before he spreads your privates out. 

"Geez, vida" his breath is hot on your pucker and the snort he lets out when the sensation causes it to clench unconsciously makes blood rush to your face. "I know you're a horny little thing but fuck have you made a mess?" He can act as judgemental as he wants but you know that he loves every little drop of the need that he makes you feel. 

Which is all the time. 

You pout and instinctively push yourself closer to his face. "N- Need you… D- Daddy…" 

"Need me?" Your teeth trap your bottom lip between them when you feel one of his thumbs inch closer to your sopping cunt. "Where do you need me, baby?" 

You whine as your forehead creases. "Y- You know where!" 

He chuckles. "I don't think right now is the time when you push your luck, vida" your features push themselves upwards when you feel the tip of his thumb graze against the outline of your pussy lips. You let out an icy whimper in response so he adds; "Come on, if you tell me how you need me I'll give it to you" though he pretends as though he is unaffected by the sight he faces, you can hear the agitated urgency in his voice.

Your hips timidly try to move against his finger that refuses to give you anything beyond enticing yet unfulfilling strokes over your squishy petals. "I- I… n- need you i- in…" You hear clinking behind you but you are too busy in your desperation to find something pleasurable in the thumb that presses against you. "Inm- mypussy,Daddy" the questioning hum that he lets out rings in your ear when he is behind you within the next second and the way in which his cock jabs its way through your eager entrance at the same time causes for your eyes to bulge out. 

"What was that, baby?" Pedri has to clamp one of his palms over your mouth to keep you from moaning out loud. The sudden bustle that sounds right outside the wardrobe as if on cue causes him to quickly pull back and fuck into you harder as you clench to aid him. It is greedy and rushed; the both of you aware of how you are dangling by a thin thread but the franticness to devour one another so extreme in your bodies that you want to finish before you are caught. 

It is the only goal. 

"I couldn't quite catch that" the way he roughly whispers in your ear to avoid detection from the manager who is busy barking orders at the staff outside while wrapping a hand around your hair has you arching your back as you get fucked into the shelf. When you refuse to respond, he has to add with a mean fondling of your boobs; "Come on, vida. Now you know better than to disobey Daddy when he can very easily destroy you for it" your lust-drunk body springs up in alarm. 

The executions of his threats are always deadly and edging is not even the last thing that you want right now. 

"I…" His cock is too pleasurable inside you as he pushes in before pulling out its length through your tight entrance with each speeding thrust, its girth putting the most knee weakening strain on the band of your pussy as his bulging veins and coarse edges rub against your sensitive walls in a way that causes your head to spin. 

Your head is yanked back by your hair. His lips ghost over the skin of your temple that gets overwhelmed by his irregular breathing. "Go on, vida. You're doing so well taking my cock" his other hand parts from your boobs to reach for one of your knees before it is bent to be propped against one of the lower shelves. Your mouth falls open and your eyes shut to clench themselves at how far up you feel him, his thick tip colliding with your special spot as a result. "Say it for me." 

"I- I need you i- in my pussy, Daddy!" Your cry is rather loud but neither of you are in the mind to care about that anymore. Your hips tighten when the snapping of his hips escalates to full on pounding and the towels and little bottles placed on the shelves begin to rattle and tumble all over. "Always need you in my pussy, Daddy!" He rewards you with the dipping of his fingers between your thighs.

"Good girl" the digits easily find your squelching cunt and he uses his grip on your hair to pull your head to one side so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck. 

The gliding of his fingers is too much for your desperately worked up and frustrated pussy to handle so when his hand uncurls from your hair to pinch one of your nipples while his teeth nibble on that one sensitive patch of your skin, you can't help but throw your head back to let out a gut wrenching moan. 

Your vision fills with neon colors and your hearing declines. The tension within your hips is pulled loose and heat surges through every single knot that has formed in your muscles over the week. Pedri's hot cum that fills you soon after is the perfect end and you finally feel in place after days. 

Sex has the opposite effect on the both of you; while it helps Pedri clear his head, yours gets fuzzy instead. So it is him who fixes you up when he decides that he is done with you for now. You meekly stand like a baby– his baby as he pats your disheveled hair down, adjusts your bra and mends your outfit to the best of his ability. 

"Look at the mess you have made, vida" you whine and snuggle into his chest so you can hide your flushed face when he points out the wreck that you two have made of the place. Pedri chuckles as he fishes out some compensatory money from his wallet and places the bills on one of the shelves before taking your hand in his and helping you walk back to the table as you happily waddle behind him, senses numb but relaxed. No one says anything or even acknowledges your long absence but they know.

The flaming red hickey on your neck is the evidence to their suspicions. 

.

[sproutingliliums]

What are some Zutara fanfics you like?

thank you for asking anon! rubbing my hands together and laughing diabolically rn. most of these fics are completed, but i have a few incomplete or ongoing ones listed at the bottom.

The Color of the Stars by bluenebulae this is my zutara bible... i have read this 3 times, and i think it's still my favorite zutara fic. it diverges from canon during the day of black sun. katara and zuko are both captured and thrown into prison and after breaking out together, they become reluctant allies and travel the world in search of the gaang while also trying to warn the other nations about ozai's plans.

they call you refugee by akaiiko

an arranged marriage alternate universe where when zuko is banished, he leaves the fire nation with—actually, the summary does a pretty good job of explaining it: "Zuko goes into exile with a scar, a mission, and a wife." i think i cried the first time i read this.

refraction by caroes3725

this one's my post-war zutara bible. it is maybe the post-war swt ambassador/politician katara slow burn of all time. it is 200k+ words and it's all worth it, i promise! i prommy!!! read it now!!!! <- this along with The Color of the Stars are maybe my favorite zutara longfics. period.

Mending Wounds by FictionIsSocialInquiry

canon divergent fic where katara sees visions of zuko in the foggy swamp. except in these visions he is older, the fire lord, her husband, and he is gentle and loving, and katara feels sick to her stomach! one of my favs!!!!

lost and found by Smediterranea

hakoda discovers a young zuko, injured, and takes him in. beautiful alternate universe fic where zuko grows up in the southern water tribe with sokka and katara.

The Things We Hide by Lykegenia

katara is held in the fire nation as a political prisoner following the southern water tribe's defeat after an assault launched by fire lord ozai during sozin's comet. the swt, however, will not go down with a fight. love, love, love this one! it has painted lady katara, blue spirit zuko, a sweet romance, political intrigue, and betrayal!!! it's a fun time. also i love hama's inclusion in this :)

The Blackfish and the Dragon by ama

during the day of black sun, iroh takes matters into his own hands and becomes fire lord. shortly after, a marriage is arranged between zuko and katara in order to secure the peace. it's a beautiful arranged marriage au where everyone is so perfectly in character. i really think this fic is one of the best zutara fics out there with a natural and rewarding slow burn romance. and azula is there and she's perfect.

Smoke & Mirrors by sansonnets

blutara bible!!!!!!! that's all i got... blutara go CRAZYYY

so i can die where i met you by irridescence

canon compliant. zuko and katara, eighty years later. the fic is centered around major character death(s), so don't read if you can't handle it but i was sobbing like a fucking baby by the end of it. such a beautiful gorgeous fic that will haunt me forever.

if you don't mind incomplete or ongoing fics:

But Who's Counting? by halfhoursonearth

katara thinks zuko's going to need at least 100 healing sessions after the agni kai. lovely prose and characterization and it's so tender and sweet. just read it!!!

so let us melt, and make no noise by LittleLostStar

zuko is sent on a mission to bring back the heart of the last waterbender so he can restore his honor and return home. but when he nearly dies while in the south pole, a healer named katara saves him and nurses him back to health. (the author describes this as a kinda-sorta frozen AU, and i think it's a pretty good description haha). it's an incredible AU with so much mystery and intrigue and tension!

forgetting is a kind of mercy by nerdylizj

"Five years after Katara and Zuko go missing in Ba Sing Se, Kya and Lee are found living peacefully in the Earth Kingdom countryside." finally, i gotta plug liz's silly n goofy dai li brainwashing fic. it's so good. so painfully angsty. it's about the pain of remembering and about making hard choices and identity and parenthood!!!

[yaniiiiism]

broken promises, shattered hearts, but you and me. -b.c ✩ !

prologue ✿ next !

pairing : bahng chan x fem!reader

info : series fanfic , uni au , a LOT of angst , drama , feelings , humour , fluff , age gap (about 2 or 3 years), reader's brother's (minho) best friend , mature themes , suggestive.

characters : chan , reader , minho , hyunjin , felix , jisung , changbin , seungmin , jeongin ; more will be revealed later.

personas ! chan as a passionate music enthusiast, singer / songwriter / producer ; reader's brother (minho)'s best friend ; in uni's senior year, aged 22 ; and his usual genuine, insomniac self. reader as another music lover, songwriter / producer / singer ; freshman in uni, aged 19 ; minho's younger sister.

word count : 507

warnings : mature themes !

notes at the end ! 🍥

The very first time he laid his eyes on her after years of being apart, it stung like a fresh wound. Or rather – a promise or memory, that broke but never mended.

A memory that left his heart in a buried hole and his body shaking. 

Earlier that day, 14:14 pm. —  ❀

Chan had one final class left for the day, set to begin in about ten minutes. Earlier this morning, wanting to find solace at his usual sanctuary, he was at the university’s music studio; where he’d spent almost all of his time, whether it be a short break between lessons, or leisurely in the evenings, far from the bustle. 

In his haste to leave, the usually-sincere raven haired; apparently had forgotten his black binder, its cover page rather empty; a stark contrast to its contents. And there he was again, after four back-to-back lessons, walking alongside the wide university halls of the familiar arts building, each step echoing softly against the polished floors. 

As he hurriedly neared the music studio with his precious Rockson ST electric guitar in black, slung on his back, the strumming of an acoustic guitar hugged his ears in a soothing embrace. Curious, he noticed the door of the studio that was left slightly ajar. 

Him peeking only made him pause in his place. Sat there, was a figure, her back facing the entrance as her fingers caressed over the guitar tenderly. The sunlight streamed through the window, casting a golden aura around her, highlighting the delicate curve of her neck and the way her hair cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders. Each chord she played seemed to float in the air, weaving a tapestry of sounds that was both haunting and beautiful.

Not wanting to intrude on her reverie,  Chan remained still at his stance, a silent observer to her enchanting performance. Soon, her soft strumming transcended into silence, each chord fading away into the tranquil stillness of the studio; only for it to be shattered by a sudden low sound. 

*clatter*

The pen Chan had been holding, slipped from his fingers, falling gracefully to the floor. His ears turned a deep shade of red, mirroring the blush that had crept across the girl’s cheeks as the sound cut through the calm like a sudden gust of wind, causing the girl to jerk her head toward him with a swift, startled grace.

But the moment their eyes locked, their surroundings seemed to blur.

Y/n Lee.

His best friend’s younger sister.

After three whole years.

The air between them crackled with unspoken memories and unresolved emotions. They were no longer just fragments of the past; now, they were here, in the present, face to face once again.

The years that had separated them melted away, leaving behind the lingering ghost of their shared past, a past that had never truly been forgotten.

"Y/n.." He whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

"Chan." She replied, her tone a soft echo of his, laced with the tremor of his heart.

 𓈒 ◌   🧸 ⃝ ֹ 𓈒

﹙🤘﹚ author's note !

OH MY GODDDDD FIRST CHAPTER IS OUT !! YES ITS PRETTY SHORT IK IM SORRY BUT LIKE JS FOR THE SUSPENSE YK :33

ill try to post up the second chapter tmr or the day same time !!

well then thank you for reading, please look forward to the series !

i appreciate it ! have a good day ~~ ♡︎

— ny ! ✩

[flamingpudding]

Camping Trips

A/N: Schools Summer Vacation is starting where I live and even tho I don't get to enjoy that anymore, it gave me the idea for this prompt :D If anyone wants to use it please do but... uhm please tag me then? I am so curious what other ideas fanfic writers could come up with for this. Thank you! And happy Vacation time to everyone that gets to enjoy it!

Camping.

Its concept was the bane of existence for some teenagers and kids while others very much enjoyed that type of vacation. Danny belongs to the type that enjoys this type of vacation. Because going camping used to mean his parents were not stuck in the lab but would pay some attention to Jazz and him. It meant that for once ghosts weren't the most important things to his parents. It meant a literal break.

So when his parents told Jazz and him about a camping trip they were planning he was at first excited. Maybe it would be like the trips they used to go on. Something to remember, roasting marshmallows, fishing, exploring the woods. A change from everything that had become normal.

That was until he arrived at the scene at the camping place and his parents set up a mobile laboratory and various security measures to protect Jazz and Danny from any possible ghost attacks. Just because they weren't in Amity Park right now, didn't mean some ghost scum wouldn't try anything to harm them, or at least that was what his dad said.

Danny had flinched and backed away from his parents that were busy setting up a laboratory instead of a tent and sighed. His eyes roamed around the other camping spaces and landed on the only other people that appeared to want to use this place for a vacation spot. He was not jealous of how normal their camping space looked with just tents, mobile hammocks, campfires, standard camping equipment and no good damn ghost-hunting equipment or mobile laboratory.

Was it too much to ask for just one normal camping trip from his parents like these people had?

Dick had just wanted to give his siblings some form of normality for once. Vigilante life was tiring and one could easily lose sight of what was normal. So he suggested a family vacation to Bruce to mend that overlooked problem. Bruce hadn't liked that idea at first too but after Tim fell asleep in his breakfast 4 times in a row because he pulled several all-nighters to work on cases and Duke had a near panic attack realizing he had forgotten about an exam and Damian smuggled 9 blades into school because he got annoyed with his teachers all in one week… the man agreed more easily to Dick's vacation idea. Even more so when some of his siblings even mentioned they never had gone camping before.

It had taken some convincing but the eldest Wayne son even managed to get Jason on board. And Alfred gladly pushed them all out of the Manor if it meant Bruce would not be working for at least one week. So come to school vacation time and they all packed up going to some remote camping place for a NORMAL vacation. He was even going to convince everyone to lock away their phones and laptops for the duration.

Well… Dick glanced at the only other occupied space and blinked. That was not normal, was it? The other spice looked like these people had jumped straight out of a SiFy Movie, they were setting up a laboratory! And the adults were wearing hazmat suits! He saw how something green started glowing over there and distinctly but quietly because of the distance he heard machinery starting to hum over there. The man in the orange hazmat let out a boisterous laugh telling something to a girl and a boy that looked dressed normally. The boy then backed away from what he assumed were their parents with clear wariness in his eyes before looking over into their direction with what Dick assumed was envy.

The eldest of Wayne children wanted to ignore the familiar green Color or the yellow tanks that looked like they had a certain green liquid in them. If that was what he was highly suspecting then they would need to investigate these other campers. After watching the other people a little longer and seeing even more suspicious equipment that appeared to be powered by the green liquid, he put his head in his hands and let out a frustrated sigh.

Oh for the love of… they were supposed to have a vacation, not investigate what could be a mobile Lazarus Water research site! His head instantly snapped out his siblings hoping that they had not yet noticed and that maybe he could convince them to go to another lake to set up far away from what would set off ALL of their detective instincts. He could put a tracker on these people and return to that case AFTER their vacation was over. But no!

It was too late, he saw Tim's eyes watch the other space with open curiosity and narrowed eyes, Damian and Bruce were watching with wariness but keeping up a cover as they poked around in a campfire, Cass also tilted her head in curiosity before also turning back to the tent she was setting up as cover and the only one who appeared to not care at all was Jason but Dick could see the way he peeked over the book he was reading at the other occupants.

Damit, was it too much to ask for one normal vacation?

[sesttalgi]

roses - song eunseok.

synopsis: this is based on jaehyuns recent song 'roses'. eunseok is the ex boyfriend of the reader and unfortunately the reader has moved on to someone new - sungchan. eunseok cant find it in him to move on so he is determined to get the reader back through a bouquet of roses.

pairings: eunseok x reader. / sungchan x reader.

genre: angsty / ex to lovers (?)

cw: angsty, cheating, smut etc.

word count: 3,2k.

~ this is my first fanfic! when i heard 'roses' i just had to write something! hope you enjoy. <3

it had been almost a year since your break up with eunseok. youve been focusing on your new relationship with sungchan, but the memories of your time with eunseok still occasionally flickered through your mind. lately though, you had been finding it easier to push those thoughts aside and focus on the present. you were happy with sungchan, and you didnt want to dwell on the past.

sungchan was everything you wanted in a boyfriend. he was attentive to your needs and he always had all the time in the world for you. he was quite the opposite from eunseok, who never really had time for you as he was always caught up with his academics. he tried though, anytime he was free he would spend his time with you but it wasnt enough. your ideal boyfriend always had time for you and unfortunately that wasnt eunseok. 

sungchan would always buy you your favorite flowers - roses. you have always loved roses and the colour red. these were things eunseok seemed to not take note of, so you thought. however, eunseok was well aware - or rather reminded due to your instagram stories where you would post the roses sungchan would get you.

eunseok found himself frequently checking your instagram. every time he saw the vibrant red colors of the roses and the smile on your face as you held them, feelings of jealousy and regret would wash over him. he now remembers how he had never bothered to take note of your favorite flowers or your love for the color red when you were together. 

eunseok thought he was a good boyfriend but he realized that he was far from it. he berated himself for not noticing these small details that could have made a difference in your relationship. but now the memories are hitting him differently. every time he sees the colour red he is coldly reminded of you. and seeing you with those roses that sungchan bought you had him feeling devastated. it killed him to know that someone else had been buying you roses. 

eunseok couldnt escape the reminders of you, no matter how hard he tried. every time he saw the color red, a flood of memories would wash over him, reminding him of the times you wore that red dress he loved so much or the red lipstick that you would wear - and the sight of roses, your favorite flowers, made his heart feel sore from pulling out the thorns - reopening the mended scars from your break up. the thought of you with someone else, receiving the love and attention he had failed to give, was unbearable.

as valentines day slowly approached, eunseok found himself increasingly restless. the thought of you spending the day with sungchan, receiving roses and other gifts filled him with a burning sense of jealousy. he knew he had no right to feel this way, but he couldnt help but wish he could make it up to you, to show you that he had remembered all those little details about you. so he planned to surprise you with a bouquet of roses as well as your other favorite things at your doorstep. 

eunseok spent the days leading up to valentines day meticulously planning his surprise for you. he carefully selected a bouquet of the most beautiful roses money could buy. he also picked out your favorite chocolates and a small plushie that you had once mentioned you wanted.

valentines day finally came around and you had nothing planned as sungchan had to unfortunately work that day. sungchan told you that he would make it up to you though so you werent worried. you spent your day snuggled up under your blankets because it was a gloomy and rainy day. very fitting for your lonesome self. you found yourself rewatching '10 things i hate about you' - your favorite romcom, remembering that it was one of the first movies you watched with your ex boyfriend, eunseok. 

as you settled into your cozy spot on the sofa, rewatching your favorite romcom, the doorbell suddenly rang - interrupting your movie. confused, you made your way to the door, wondering who could be visiting you on this rainy valentines day.

as you opened the door, your eyes widened in surprise as you saw a bouquet of roses, and a few other gifts, waiting at your doorstep. the person who prepared this surprise for you though wasnt your boyfriend but rather your ex boyfriend - eunseok. 

eunseok stood right before you, slightly wet from the rain, his hair stuck to his forehead. he stood there, a little sheepish, as he looked at you as he said "happy valentines day, y/n." you were surprised to see him, especially after not speaking to him for almost a year.

"eunseok... what is this?" you asked him, feeling overwhelmed by the situation. "why are you here out of the blue and with all these gifts on valentines day of all days?" you asked him.

eunseok looked at you apologetically, realizing the shock and confusion his unexpected appearance had caused. "i know its been a long time since we've spoken" he began, his voice soft and sincere. "but seeing its valentines day... i couldnt help but want to do something nice for you." he glanced down at the gifts he had brought, his expression laced with remorse. "i know i wasnt the best boyfriend back then" he continued. "but i wanted to make up for it now." 

you felt a mix of emotions swelling within you - shock, confusion, and a hint of sadness. you stared at him, the memories of your time together flooding back, but mixed with the knowledge that you had moved on to someone else.

"why are you doing this now?" you asked, your voice slightly trembling. "you know im with someone else" you said to him.

"yes i know youre with someone else. youre with sungchan. i tried forgetting about you but i just couldnt. i missed you so much, every single day. it killed me to know that you moved on with someone else while i couldnt stop thinking about you." eunseok declared to you.

you took in his words, your heart clenching at the mention of sungchan. the rain continued to pour down outside, continuing to leave eunseok looking like a drenched puppy. you couldnt help but feel sorry for him, seeing him in this state. 

"eunseok," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "you cant just show up after all this time, giving me gifts as if nothing has happened. we broke up, remember?"

eunseok took a step closer, "i know we broke up" he said, his eyes fixed on yours. "but do you even realize how much ive thought about you since then?" the rain outside seemed to get heavier, as if it were echoing the storm between the two of you.

"thinking about me doesnt change anything" you replied, your voice trembling despite your efforts to stay strong. "i had my reasons, eunseok. you never had time for me, you could never give me what i really wanted and walking away was me just putting myself first" you continued.

eunseok didnt back down, his gaze intense and unwavering. "maybe youre right" he admitted, his voice softer now, "but that doesnt mean i stopped caring. i never stopped caring, even when it hurt like hell seeing you move on to someone new." 

eunseok reached out, his hand hovering just inches from yours, hesitant. "im not asking for everything to be perfect" he said "im just asking for a chance. a chance to make things right or at least to try." you looked at his hand, then back into his eyes and for a second, you saw the eunseok you fell in love with.

"i dont know" you said finally, your voice breaking. "i just don't know, eunseok."

he nodded, understanding the weight of your uncertainty. "im here" he said quietly, "for as long as you need to figure it out. i'll wait" 

eunseok glanced at the rain, still getting soaked. his hair was plastered to his forehead, and his clothes were soaked through. he shivered slightly. 

you hesitated for a moment, torn between your feelings for sungchan - you knew he wouldnt like you being inside your apartment with your ex on valentines day but you couldnt let eunseok continue to get drenched by the rain.

finally, you sighed and stepped aside. "come in" you said softly, opening the door wider. "youre going to catch a cold out there."

eunseok hesitated, unsure whether to accept your offer, but then he stepped inside, dripping water onto the floor. he placed the roses and the other gifts on your coffee table. you closed the door behind him, the sound of the rain muffled now, creating an almost intimate silence between you two.

he stood there awkwardly, looking around as if the apartment had changed in his absence. it had, in small ways. a new plant in the corner, different photos of you and sungchan on the wall - subtle signs of your life moving forward without him. 

"here," you said, handing him a towel. "dry off before you make a mess" he took the towel, wiping his face and running it through his hair. "thanks," he mumbled, glancing at you as if searching for a sign of what might come next. 

he noticed that you were watching your favorite movie, "10 things i hate about you .. its still your favorite" he said. you glanced at the screen, where kat and patrick were in the middle of their witty banter. reminding you of your relationship with eunseok. a part of you wanted to smile at his remark, but you held back, unsure if this was a moment to share in nostalgia or to keep your distance. 

"it is" you admitted quietly, crossing your arms as you leaned against the edge of the coffee table. "some things dont change, i guess" 

eunseok looked at the tv, a wistful expression crossing his face. "we used to watch this together all the time" he said, his voice soft as if he were recalling a memory he wasnt sure he had the right to revisit. "i never really liked romcoms, but i made an exception for this one… for you."

you felt a dagger to your chest at his words, memories flooding back of nights spent on this very sofa, laughing and quoting lines, sharing popcorn and stolen kisses during the quiet moments. those were the good times, the times when everything felt easy and right between you.

"i remember" you replied, trying to keep your voice even. "but that was a long time ago, eunseok. things are different now." he nodded as if expecting your response but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "yeah, i know" he said, almost to himself. he sat down on the edge of the sofa, careful not to get it wet, his eyes fixed on the tv but not really watching. 

you knew in your heart that you still had strong feelings for eunseok. he was your first boyfriend, your first time, your first everything. despite moving on to someone else you knew that you would always have a soft spot for him. your relationship with sungchan was fairly new - three months. you too had struggled moving on from eunseok, it took a lot for you to open up to someone new and seeing eunseok right in front of you had you forgetting all about sungchan.

the tension between you and eunseok continued to grow, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. the rain continued to pour outside, adding to the intimate and intense atmosphere. you watched him sit there, looking different yet so familiar. 

"eunseok" you began but you couldnt seem to find the words.

he looked at you, his eyes searching for yours in that moment. he stood up and his gaze locked onto yours. he moved closer and closed the gap between you two.

his lips made their way to yours. he pulled away to make sure that you were okay and you nodded slightly. 

he continued to kiss you, filled with all the passion, the hurt and the longing that had built up over the time you had been apart. it wasnt gentle but rather desperate, a collision of emotions that neither of you could control.

his tongue flicked against your lips seeking entrance and as you parted them, he deepened the kiss. his hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as if he couldnt get enough of you. 

without breaking the kiss, eunseok guided you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the sofa. you sank down onto the cushions pulling him with you. his hands roamed your body, reacquainting themselves with every inch of your skin and you couldnt help but respond, your hands exploring him with the same urgency. 

he could feel the heat of your body and the way you trembled slightly under his touch. "eunseok" you whispered against his lips. he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes with intensity. "i need you" his voice murmured rough with emotion.

you kissed him again and he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with a desperation that mirrored your own. 

as the intensity between you two kept growing, eunseoks hands travelled down your body, slipping under your shirt as he unclipped your bra with ease like he always did in the past. you shivered at the familiar sensation of his hands against your skin, memories of your past together flooding back.

you responded, lifting your arms to let him remove your shirt, exposing your bare skin to his gaze.

"youre still beautiful as ever"

he leaned down, his lips trailing hot kisses along your collarbone, worshipping every inch of you. 

his hands made their way to your shorts, gently slipping them off and he shifts your red panties feeling your wetness, eager for him to please you.

"you still wear the red panties that i love" he muttered.

he slipped two fingers into your slit before slowly starting to move them, his thumb finding your clit and circling it with ease. your breath hitched as he worked his fingers inside you, building a rhythm that made your body tremble with anticipation. 

"eunseok" you whispered, barely able to form any words as the pleasure began to overwhelm you. his name on your lips seemed to spur him on as his movements became more and more urgent. he added a third finger, stretching you in a way that felt almost too good. 

"look at you" he muttered, his voice laced with desire. "so responsive, just like before" 

his words sent a shiver down your spine. you were a moaning mess as your body arched into eunseoks touch as he continued to play your body like a well practiced instrument.

you were on edge, so close to release, when he suddenly withdrew his fingers, leaving you gasping at the loss. before you could protest, he was sliding down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a fiery trail of kisses until he settled between your thighs.  

eunseok looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust as he hooked your legs over his shoulders. "i wanna taste you" he said, his voice filled with eagerness.

he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste your arousal and you moaned at the sensation. 

his mouth worked wonders on you, his tongue moving in tandem with the fingers he reintroduced, pushing you closer and closer to the edge until you couldnt hold back any longer, crying out his name as your climax washed over you in waves. 

he didnt stop until you were trembling, only then did he crawl back up your body, capturing your lips in a slow and deep kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. 

"i missed you" he whispered against your lips, his voice tender now, filled with emotion that mirrored your own.

as you lay on the sofa, the weight of everything that had just happened pressed down on you. the warmth of eunseoks body beside you was both comforting and unsettling. you couldnt deny that the connection between you was still there, strong and undeniable but at the same time, it felt like a step backward - like you were treading on old ground that had long been left behind.

eunseoks fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, his breath still slightly uneven. "i missed you" he whispered again, but this time there was a hint of something deeper in his voice - hope, maybe, or something even more desperate.

you closed your eyes, letting the words hang in the air between you. part of you wanted to stay in this moment forever, wrapped up in the familiarity of eunseoks touch and the memories of what you once had.

eunseoks arms were wrapped around you, holding you close as if he feared you might disappear if he let go. 

"y/n" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "im sorry for everything - for not being the boyfriend you needed back then… for not showing you how much you meant to me."

you felt your heart ache at his words. you turned slightly in his arms, looking up into his eyes, which were filled with regret and a deep longing.

"im sorry too" you whispered, reaching up to gently touch his face. "i never really stopped loving you, eunseok. even when i tried to move on, a part of me was still holding onto what we had."

his eyes searched yours, as if trying to find the truth in your words. "do you think we can try again? start over?"

you hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. you thought of sungchan but in your heart, you knew where you truly belonged. sungchan was kind and attentive, everything you thought you wanted, but your connection with eunseok was something different - deeper, more complex, and undeniable.

"i want to" you finally said, your voice steady. "but we cant go back to what we were. we have to be better for each other this time."

eunseoks face lit up with a mixture of hope and relief. he leaned into you, capturing your lips in a slow and tender kiss, one that felt like a promise - a promise to do things right this time, to be the partner you deserved.

when you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, breathing in the closeness between you. "we'll take it slow" you said softly. "but im willing to try if you are."

"im all in" he whispered, his voice full of determination. "i wont let you down again, y/n. i'll be here for you, always."

[cm-lily]

I read a fanfic once, I forgot which one. But in that fic, they have this idea where Gem and Grian's base has this... Foggy vibe to it. Like compare it to the cherry mountain that's all pink and petals and then you have these two bases which are straight up The Horrors™

I Just love that idea

So much I've been thinking, what if the whole Magic Mountain is surrounded by fog? A magic fog and mist that just always surround the area and got thicker as the sun set further. The area always seems cloudy. As if there is an eternal cloud forever covering the mountains. It's either raining, or storm, or cloudy. The only time it's clear is when Grian finally got his mending book, the pink snail arrive, and it switch to storm when Scar got the mending book. (He got struck by lightning a few time if he reaches that area)

Joel's base not only has lantern illuminating it, but souls as well. They didn't stay idle, but never went too far. Some of them even transform, Into tanuki or fox or wolves and even Koi fish and Axolotl. That fly in the air instead of water, obviously.

Sometimes there's things passing by on Impulse's build. Something tall and slender, with long limbs and sharp claws. They're not Enderman, Enderman don't crawl. Impulse said they're cool if you pretend they didn't exist and just let them... Lurks around.

Something is wrong with Mumbo's base. I want to call it decaying, but it's not. It's more like redstone veins appear around the blackened grass, the air smells like gunpowder and something acid. Or maybe copper.

Many hermits had reported seeing the sight of a statue angel that just appear on top of Skizz's unfinished Pyramid. It appear when they're looking at it, but then they look around and it's gone. The statue has never been in the same position everytime someone look at it.

Most people don't like going to Scar's base at night, not only because of how creepy it look like surrounded by those fog. Like the rest of them, something strange always happens. Like animals looking bigger and more beast-like the moment night arrive, ever seen a cow just grows multiple horns and it sounds like those horn are breaking out of it's skull? Or that one time, one time his horse stand up on two feet? Probably not. Scar said they're harmless. Except for the snail—he said. The snail isn't his. That's why they damaged his build and become a nuisance.

(There was once a time, a time where clouds whirled around his ore pillar, clouds that are made of limbs and hand and eyes and it just stretched and climb down from the pillar. It never reach the ground, fortunately.)

Grian never stopped fishing. Even if it rains or stormed outside. He's smelly and that's why snails like him and his horse don't. Totally not because Pluto saw him turn into giant mer-man with many eyes and tails and sharp tooth. Definitely not. Don't feel weird when you feel like you're being watched. Or because shadow-like silhouette wander around his wheat farm, or a silhouette of something massive that was illuminated everytime lightning strikes, looking down from the cherry mountain toward his and Gem's base and, occasionally, you felt like you found a body you recognize in the water—

And that's where Gem comes in! Gem is someone who stopped you before you decide to jump in the water and check who's that corpse is. And the one who shooed off the many eyes that lurk in the muddy river side of Grian's base. Grian hates her for that but there's nothing he can do. Gem, like Grian, is someone who can walk in the middle of the storm unharmed. Most of the time, she make sure that none of the hermits fell into the trick of her other neighbors.

just don't let that distract you from the fact one of her build is actually sentient and breathing and is always staring at you. Or the fact there's blood around the rocky shores if you squint into the dark river/soon-to-be-ocean. Or the fact that, just like the angler, the skull always felt like it's watching even if there's no actually eyes in it's socket. Gem is always present when you want to have a tour or just so happened to passed that area, but... If she's not there to guide you, would it even be worth it to be stabbed with a trident and got dragged into the water?

[optiwashere]

It was not quite a circle, but a cog [...] Shadowheart gripped Asheera's wrist to steady herself. The cog's heat flashed on her cheek, glowing subtly with a faint red light. "A paladin without her oaths is nothing," said Asheera. "Without you, I am less than nothing. A cog without its matching pair."

I commissioned this from the lovely @raynhoro! It's my sweet Tav — Asheera (she/her) — making an oath to protect Shadowheart after the events of the House of Grief from one of my fanfics. She's been drawn so well, and her calm focus here matches exactly what I had in mind when I wrote Bend to Break to Mend last year.

Their faces, the touch...

Thank you so much for turning my terrible MS Paint mockup into this amazing piece 💜

[takingchences]

𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏𝟓

A descendant of a legendary quirk longs to separate herself from her family name, but first she'll have to confront villains, ghosts from the past, and her growing attraction for Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!oc

Warnings: mature language, angst

LOTS of angst this chapter. Touya Todoroki is mentioned in this chapter, and for the sake of this fanfic, he will be aged down to 3-4 years older than Shoto and Sana. Enjoy!

series masterlist + my masterlist

The second round of battles were even more intense than the first. Bakugou was pitted against Kirishima, who'd won an arm wrestling match against his Class B doppelgänger in a tiebreaker. Sana herself would be engaging in a battle against Ole Greased Lightnin' himself.

And to top it off, the big rivalry of the day would come to a head in the last match of the round: Midoriya vs. Todoroki.

Why do you keep getting in my way, Izuku Midoriya? Her jewel-like burned holes in the back of Midoriya's bushy head. She hissed out a breath in irritation. Mina nudged her to get her attention.

"So... who is it?" She giggled.

"What are we talking about?"

"You can drop the act." The pinkette leaned in close with a devious smirk. "Denki already spilled the beans. So," she poked her arm with a perfectly manicured nail. "Who's the lucky guy?" Jirou, who was sitting with Momo in the row in front of them, subtly pointed her earjack in their direction.

"Right," she nodded slowly with a deep sigh. "That." Sana glanced down at the arena, where two of their friends were stretching. She turned away just as the ash blonde raised his head. "I don't think it's going to work out."

"What?" Mina gasped, a distressed expression on her face. "No! Why?"

Jirou dropped her act, now fully turned in her seat to join the conversation.

Sana bit her lip. It's not that she didn't trust the two girls, but her feelings for Bakugou were complicated, especially on days like today where his abrasive personality successfully pushed her away. She didn't think Bakugou would appreciate her airing their problems in front of the entire class. This chaotic, beautiful bond they share was theirs alone. She cherishes their relationship; this unspoken, undefined thing. Whatever it is that they have is delicate, and Sana didn't want to be the one to break it.

But the way he'd ripped his hand out of her's still stung. Just moments before, he'd been laughing and joking with her... only to shut her out afterwards. It was always one step forward, two steps back with him. Sometimes, it felt like she was the only trying to work at their relationship.

The same could be said for her friendship with Shoto. While she was actively trying to mend the rift, the dual-haired boy was blatantly ignoring her efforts, instead choosing to distance himself further.

Sana shrugged helplessly. "Because it feels like it will only end with my heart broken." She replied quietly.

She didn't just mean Bakugou, but Shoto as well.

Mina opened her mouth to add to their conversation, but was cut off by Midnight telling the competitors to begin their fight. Sana was grateful for the Pro's interference. The solar girl needed to focus on her upcoming match, and thinking about Bakugou would only serve as a distraction.

Explosions and smoke filled the air. Down below, a battle of stamina was taking place, and by the looks of it, the hotheaded blonde was winning. "Bakugou seems... different, doesn't he?" Sero commented aloud from a few seats down.

Tsuyu touched her chin thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it, he did seem pretty calm after fighting Ochaco."

Sana scoffed under her breath, sliding further down in her seat. The constant back and forth of does he or does he not, and the push and pull of her heartstrings was getting to be too much. It feels like the only one playing games, Katsuki, is you.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Sana didn't think anyone was surprised by Bakugou's victory. Nothing against Kirishima, of course, but the ash blonde's tenacity and relentless attacks from the very beginning painted a pretty clear picture of who the winner would be. The redhead's quirk didn't make him invincible, and Bakugou had used that to his advantage.

Sana noticed Iida stand and leave the seating area. He was probably getting warmed up since their match was coming up.

The two boys joined them a few minutes later, Bakugou silently stewing in anger despite being the first to earn a spot in the semi-finals. Eijiro's smile was bittersweet. He was happy for his friend, but upset that his own time in the Sports Festival had come to an end.

Sana gave him a few head pats once he sat down, making him grin.

Tokoyami and a vine-haired girl were up next. His technique was similar to the one he'd used in the first round against Momo. While that match lasted roughly thirty seconds, this match was more prolonged. The girl's quirk, like Dark Shadow, was perfectly suited for long range combat. As soon as she wrapped vines around the large shadowy creature, he would slip back into Tokoyami's body, only to reappear moments later. Eventually, Tokoyami and Dark Shadow were able to overpower the girl and win the match.

Sana left her classmates with a chorus of good luck's following her out. A few had even expressed concern about her choosing not to warm up beforehand. Her laughing in response only served to increase their worry.

Sana made her way down to the entrance, spotting her opponent across the way. She saluted him with two fingers and a wink. The bespectacled boy bowed his head in acknowledgment.

Mrs. Midnight announced who was next, waving for them to step out into the arena. Present Mic gave his own comedic commentary while his partner, Mr. Aizawa, watched them apathetically.

Midnight snapped her whip. "Begin!"

The blue-haired boy dashed forward, trying to catch her off guard. Sana had overheard Midoriya  rattling on about a new power move he'd shown off during the calvary battle. Some kind of turbo boost that made the speedster even faster, but, according to those who'd witnessed it, the impressive move had serious drawbacks.

Sana wasn't sure how often he was able to use it, or for how long, or if he would even chance using it so soon after the second event, but she didn't plan on giving him the opportunity.

Her logic was simple, really.

"Catch me if you can," she smirked before disappearing into thin air. Iida couldn't beat her if he couldn't see her.

Present Mic, as well as the rest of those watching (on campus and at home) were stunned by the display of power. "HUUUUUUH?" The voice hero shrieked. "ERASER, WHAT'S THIS?"

Mr. Aizawa sighed into the microphone. "Sakano's quirk allows her to take in and manipulate light. By bending the light around her, Sakano can make herself appear invisible."

"SO COOL!"

Iida also looked quite stunned, skidding to a halt a few feet away from where she'd vanished.

Like most of their class, the boy had assumed the strawberry blonde would use her quirk to enhance her speed... which is exactly why she chose not to. It would be a complete waste of time and energy. She could easily outrun the boy using her quirk. She'd proven that their first day of class during Aizawa's apprehension test. No, this was a chance to conserve power while also showcasing her range of abilities to the world.

The class president was already at a disadvantage coming in, knowing what she could do... except no one knew what all Sana was capable of.

Not even her.

"Don't you remember what Sensei said at the USJ?" Sana's voice floated through the air. Iida spun around to try and determine her location, but it was useless. Her voice seemed to come from every direction. Warm fingers curled into the fabric of his uniform jacket, yanking him backwards forcefully. Surprised by the sudden, aggressive assault, Iida lost balance, only aiding his opponent in hurling him across the boundary line. "No good hero is a one trick pony."

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Sana returned to her seat with a bounce in her step. Her friends congratulated her for making it into the semi-finals along with Bakugou and Tokoyami. There was only one more match left. The moment they'd all been waiting for since the war declaration this morning.

Sana shifted in her seat, her long hair sticking to the damp skin of her neck, making her uncomfortable. She fanned her face with her left hand as Midoriya and Shoto stepped onto the field. Soon, she tried to appease the sweltering heat consuming her from the inside, demanding to be released. Not yet.

Shoto was the first to attack, sending a wave of ice towards the greenette, only to be pushed away by a powerful blast. The crowd went crazy once they realized what had happened; Midoriya had stopped the ice by breaking his finger.

Shoto didn't hesitate, attacking relentlessly over and over, only for Midoriya to thwart him once again. The greenette was only playing defense, which Sana found strange. Why wasn't he trying to counterattack? The boy was just standing there and mutilating himself. It didn't seem like a good strategy to follow. After all, he only had so many fingers to sacrifice.

Midoriya didn't seem to know or care about that, though. Instead of changing his course of action, the freckled boy continued to further damage his body by using his already broken fingers to protect himself against Shoto.

Sana threw her head back in exasperation. Idiot.

A particularly strong blow from Midoriya sent Todoroki flying back, the dual haired boy creating a blockade of ice to keep him from going out of bounds. Frost was blooming across the right side of his body, climbing rapidly. He wouldn't last much longer like this. Sana knew what was coming. Tremors would soon overtake his body, his muscles stiffening to conserve heat and impairing his movements.

Shoto was reaching his limit.

The two came to blows, the greenette landing a solid hit to his opponent's stomach while Shoto froze his arm in retaliation. All the while, the boys seemed to be having a heated discussion, but between the shattering of ice, gusts of wind, and chatter of the crowd, it was difficult to hear what they were saying.

"IT'S YOUR QUIRK!" Midoriya screamed at the red and white haired boy. "NOT HIS!"

For a moment, her world stopped spinning.

Eyes wide and unblinking, Sana leaned forward in her seat to catch the reaction of the youngest Todoroki, who appeared as stunned as she felt. What came next was an even bigger shock. She wasn't sure if he consciously activated his quirk or if the flood of emotions he was obviously experiencing triggered it... but Shoto's left side burst into flames.

Beautiful scarlett and gold embers streamed off his body and grew into a wildfire. She gasped, covering her mouth in awe as tears pricked her eyes. He... did it.

"SHOTO!" The flaming pile of garbage known as Endeavor shouted from the stands. "You finally accepted your purpose. Very good. This is the dawn of a new era for us." Sana glowered down at the despicable man. Even Present Mic seemed uncomfortable with the Pro's announcement, quickly drawing their attention back to the two teenagers. The battle ramped up now that Shoto was using his full power.

Midnight tried to intervene, voicing her concern, but it was too late. With a mighty explosion, the entire stadium was thrown into chaos. Thick steam blinded them as they tried to check on the two boys. After minutes of stumbling through the fog, Midnight announced that Todoroki would be the one moving on. The greenette's body was found embedded in the stone wall behind him. Med robots carted the unconscious boy away from public view, much to their classmates' concern.

Sana felt torn between wanting to curl into a ball and cry or scream at the top of her lungs until her vocal chords were raw. All this time, she'd been trying to show Shoto that he was his own person and not an extension of his father as the man would have him believe. But once again, Midoriya was somehow able to achieve the impossible.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

While the Sakano heir was having an emotional breakdown, a family reunion was happening in a hall on the other side of the stadium. Shoto ignored the approaching figure of his father.

"What's the matter?" The Pro crossed his arms smugly. "Not gonna tell me to get lost?" He looked down at his son's exposed body, half of his shirt burned away. "You need to learn to control your left side. It's dangerous to release so much energy like that." His smirk widened further. "But I'm glad you're finally seeing reason. Now that you've abandoned your childish rebellion, we can get back to what's important. After you graduate, you'll work by my side-"

"Out there," Shoto suddenly spoke, voice soft as a whisper. "For that one moment, I forgot all about you. Whether it's good or bad... whether it's the right thing to do, I don't know." He shouldered past the stunned man. "Maybe I don't need you."

The hero's clenched fists shook in anger.

"What he needs," Sana had snapped at him. "Is help... and we both know you're the last person he'd go to for that."

"That girl," he seethed, catching Shoto 's attention. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "She's ruined you. You wouldn't be acting this way if she hadn't planted her own rebellious thoughts in your head."

Shoto faced his father once again, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were so cold and empty that it made the Flame Hero pause. "That girl," the dual quirk user drew the words out slowly. "Was the only family I had left."

Endeavor took a step back in shock, his bright eyes blown wide. "Shoto-"

"You've taken everyone from me. My mother, my siblings," the teenager met his father's gaze head-on, further surprising the pro. "My friendship with Sana was the one thing in my life that was mine..."

There was a small hitch in Shoto's breath and a look of devastation in his eyes. "And you ruined that, too."

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Bakugou and Tokoyami were the first match up of the semi-finals. The announcement made Sana chuckle to herself, though she was far from amused.

She would be fighting Shoto. Again. In front of an audience. Again. Only this time, it would be broadcast on national television for everyone to see, including their fathers. If a bolt of lightning struck me down right now, the universe would be doing me a favor.

Her childhood rival sat stoic in the furthest row, a clear divide between himself and the rest of the class. Sana sighed, shaking her head and facing forward. He's really taking this no friends thing to another level.

The solar girl excused herself to head to the waiting room. She needed to prepare herself to face Shoto. Sana slumped down in the metal chair, burying her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook with the force of the sobs she so desperately fought to contain.

She was genuinely happy for Shoto. She wanted nothing more than to run to her old friend and smother him with hugs and kisses and praise for the giant step he'd just taken... but that wasn't her place anymore. She wasn't sure where her place in the world was if not by his side. She'd never had to think about it before.

Now it was all she could think about.

And losing that spot to someone they'd just met not too long ago hurt more than any pain she'd ever experienced. Was she as expendable as her mother? Was she forever to be belittled and used and discarded by those closest to her? There's only so much rejection a person can handle in a lifetime, and she had a terrible feeling that she was about to hit her max today. The fact that millions of people would bear witness to her humiliation gave her very little comfort.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

"They've given us impressive performances so far." Present Mic started the introductions as Midnight coaxed Sana and her opponent out from the shadows of the tunnel entrances. "And they're totally famous! YEAH! It's the battle of the elite: Shoto Todoroki vs. Sana Sakano."

The response from the crowd was deafening.

Sana wasn't sure if the moisture in her palms was from nerves or simply her quirk begging to come out. Both, probably. She was almost looking forward to Shoto's ice to help her cool off.

No, not Shoto.

The boy standing across from her was Todoroki. There was a difference between the two. Her Shoto was soft spoken, thoughtful, and thanks to his isolated upbringing, often clueless when it comes to things like social queues or pop culture references. Humor and sarcasm flew right over his head. It was one of her favorite things about him: his innocence. How he'd managed to hold onto it despite all of the trauma he and his family had endured, she'll never know. Todoroki was that scared, moody kid who used to glare at her from across the room as his father encouraged them to tear into each other.

But the heterochromatic boy currently staring through her was foreign. She didn't know this version of her best friend, not even when they were children and refused to get along. Back then, he'd just been angry, but this went beyond anger. This was hatred, loathing, despair. Things she never would've used to describe Sho. Her Sho.

"Are you ready to talk?" Sana activated her quirk as soon as the match began, her entire body beginning to glow.

"I have nothing to say to you." Shoto stomped on the ground, sending a mountain of ice in her direction that she bypassed easily. It was a familiar dance that they could perform with their eyes blindfolded, in the dark, after being spun in circles a dozen or so times. They knew each other too well. It was a double-edged sword, a blessing as well as a curse.

"Really?" She scoffed, arching a brow. "Because it sure feels like you're bottling up a lot of shit right now. So spit it out." She threw her arms out to her side in annoyance. "You can't ignore me forever, Sho. I'm not going anywhere."

The boy's gaze was as hard as stone, void of any emotion. "You made sure of that, didn't you?"

"The hell are you talking about?"

"You gave me hope. You made me think things could be different." A chill filled the air as a turbulent wind of snow flurries spun around him. "You made me believe that you cared." Turquoise and gray eyes burned into her like hellfire and frostbite, stealing the breath from her lungs. "You lied."

"Will you stop talking in riddles and just tell me what I did to make you hate me?!"

A blizzard tore through the battle arena, eclipsing the two teens. The onlookers gasped and cried out in shock as fierce winds tugged at their hair and clothing. The best friends-turned-rivals were obscured from view, the only thing visible was Sana's glowing silhouette moving swiftly within the white and gray haze.

"I t-thought after fighting Deku, Todoroki would ease up a bit." Uraraka hugged herself, her breath visible as she shivered. "But he seems even more fired up than before!"

"Kero," Tsu croaked sleepily.

"Yo, Bakubro. I dunno why," Kirishima scratched his chin. "But this matchup feels kinda personal, don't ya think?"

Bakugou scowled down at the stage with his arms crossed, his jaw set in stone. He knew exactly how personal this fight was. He'd overheard Todoroki reveal his family's dark origins to Deku in the corrider during break and had almost retreated back to the student section when he heard Sana's name.

"Since the dawn of quirks, many families have relied on quirk marriages to grow and harness their power. Look at Sakano: her family's legacy is built on a glowing baby. How else could they have stayed in power for centuries if not through selective breeding? How could she hold a fraction of the power she does if her ancestors hadn't practically monopolized light and heat-based quirks?"

It suddenly occurred to Bakugou that this was probably the most emotion he'd heard the dual-haired boy express in the months they'd known each other. Anger and annoyance were easy to recognize, but there was something else buried underneath as he spoke of the class beauty. It made the ash blonde's chest tighten.

"My mother's family was well-known for their strong ice quirks, which is why my father seeked her out. It's his wish to build a legacy of his own and cement the Todoroki name in history."

This is fuckin' boring, Bakugou kicked off the wall he was leaning on to leave. "She didn't know it at the time, but Sana was engaged to my brother when we were kids."

The ash blonde froze midstep.

"Our parents arranged the whole thing. But..." For the first time since he'd begun telling Midoriya—and unknowingly, Bakugou—his life story, the dual-haired teen seemed reluctant to continue. The youngest Todoroki cleared his throat uncomfortably. "... something happened when we were younger and the engagement was called off. My father only told me all of this because he wants me to marry Sana in my brother's place."

Midoriya gasped, and Bakugou nearly did as well. He inhaled sharply, his vermilion eyes blown wide as his fists clenched at his sides.

"Her father refused the offer at first... but I have reason to believe he's reconsidering."

Bakugou forced himself to walk away, unable to stomach another word without rounding the corner and demanding the peppermint bastard tell him everything he knows. Was Sana in on this? Did she even know? Why her? He wanted to ask. Why did it have to be her?

The sucker punched feeling he'd become oh so familiar with since enrolling in U.A was back. The pressure temporarily vanished when Sana joined him in the stands, flashing him that cheeky grin with those jewel-like eyes that, even when she was laughing and goofing off with the rest of the Derp Squad, always seemed to hold a touch of sadness. Bakugou felt like he was finally beginning to understand the enigma that is Sana Sakano, just as she'd been trying to figure him out since that first day of class.

He'd always felt that the strawberry blonde was putting on an act, pretending to be someone she wasn't for others' sake. He'd even called her out on it during their heated argument outside her house just days before. But slowly, he was starting to see glimpses of her, the real her, behind the facade. But he couldn't help but feel as though he was only just now seeing the truth hidden behind layers of charming smiles and smartass comments because the half-and-half told him exactly where to look.

"You don't know her like I do."

The pain in his chest flared, the fear of being second to anyone causing him to lash out at the solar girl. I know, dammit. Bakugou dragged a calloused hand down his face in frustration as she turned her back on him, then kicking the seat in front of him with his boot.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

She was in the eye of the storm. Sana was sure the only reason she could see her own hands in front of her face was because they were glowing faintly. She knew that Shoto would be able to spot her easier this way, but she also knew the second she deactivated her quirk, she'd be a goner. Her body would quickly succumb to the freezing temperatures around her and Shoto would be named the victor.

"I know you're using his quirk," his voice called out to her in disgust. He'd felt the heat coming off of her from across the arena. Only one person was capable of producing fire that intense. Flames straight from Hell itself, wielded by a devil in disguise.

"I needed to get your attention somehow." Sana called into the dense fog surrounding them. Everything was white and hazy and cold, though she hardly noticed the chill in her current state. Enji's fire flowed like lava through her veins. "This seemed the most effective way."

He chuckled dryly. "You're shameless."

"...what?"

The air in front of her stirred and shifted, a sign that her opponent was close. "Taking bribes from my father? Asking him for favors?" The dual-haired boy's voice grew in volume and intensity with every word. "You sold yourself to him, Sakano."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sana frowned.

"How are you here at U.A? We were both there when my father said the only way you'd be recommended to this school was if you agreed to marry me after graduation."

"And I said no-"

"-yet here you are!" He shouted. "Recommended to the top hero school in Japan. So, who was it then? What Pro would vouch for you... the daughter of the man that has done nothing but curse their profession since he gained office? Who else would've recommended you but my old man?"

Sana thought back to that white envelope she'd received in the mail months ago containing the date and time of her entrance exam. The solar girl was completely blindsided by her status as a recommendation student. The letter included a note from Principal Nezu stating that the pro had asked to remain anonymous.

"I don't know!"

"Liar." His voice was getting closer, she noted. Right now, Shoto has the advantage, but Sana isn't going to go down without a fight. "You said things would be different this time around, that we'd have a choice. You promised we wouldn't become our parents. You swore to honor Touya."

Sana whirled around, coming nose to nose with her former friend.

There was a surprising fury in his eyes that she hadn't seen in years. Never with Shoto, no, but a beautiful, snow-haired boy with eyes that rivaled the sky. Touya was a name she longed to forget... only because the memories it brought to mind were too painful to put into words.

"What do you think Touya would say if he could see you now? Scheming with my old man?" It sounded as though the words had been ripped from his body involuntarily. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breaths coming out in pants. "I didn't have a chance to know him like you, but I think he would be ashamed of what you've become."

Shoto knew every weakness she'd ever had—had helped her discover most of them—but he'd never hit so below the belt. Over the years, they'd both demonstrated that their weaknesses extended beyond physical blows. Verbal and emotional attacks worked just as well, and clearly neither of them were above using such underhanded tactics. But this-

Sana stumbled back, as if the accusation was a physical blow. She would've preferred that to hearing those words. "Wha-? No!" She gasped, her eyes burning with tears. "I would never-"

"Don't you ever get tired of lying to everyone all of the time?"

"Can he fucking see you? See past the bullshit act you put on?" Before this year, Sana's answer would've been a resounding yes... but everything was different now.

He can't see me, she realized. Not anymore. All he sees now is that man. She steeled her shoulder and flexed her hands, mentally armoring herself, but it was too late. Shoto had taken her shattered heart—the same one he'd helped mend all those years—and stabbed her with the shard she'd given him to protect. He'd used her love against her and twisted it.

The battle wasn't over, but she'd already lost.

[weirdbeancurd]

Attempted Apologies, Chapter 3- ULTRAKILL Fanfic

Chapters: 1 2 3

Ao3 (Link)

@h0ped3lusion @vallianttreedreamland (thanks for loving my work lol)

god I am SO sorry for taking so long to write this, but I've been super busy with a job, moving, and a bunch of other adult stuff. thank you all so much for being patient and leaving lovely comments. I'm not totally happy with some of this story (I'm never happy with my writing lol), so I might make minor changes, but other than that, this fic is finally done!!! thanks again for sticking around, and thank you @persi-person for helping peer review!

also I originally planned for this to be strictly platonic, but it definitely leans more into romantic territory with V1 and Gabe (and a bit with Minos and Sisyphus). it can still be seen as platonic, if that's what you'd like, though!

Takes place in an AU where the prime souls live, and Gabriel and V1 live on the surface as apocalyptic roommates. (oh my god they were roommates)

Summary: Gabriel attempts (key word: attempts) to apologize to Minos and Sisyphus for their executions, but it doesn't go as well as he had hoped. Chapter 3 out of 3.

“I, uh. Love what you did with the curtains?”

Gabriel’s feeble attempt at small talk is ignored. Breaking the ice has never been this difficult, and he's getting absolutely stone walled by the man stitching up his skin. Prestigious ruler or not, his bedside manners can use some work. He tries not to let his irritation show through his body language. I think I’d rather get my ass handed to me again over whatever this is.

“Is everything alright?”

“...”

“Look, you really don’t have to do this. I can just head back and patch mys-”

“Hold thy tongue,” Minos snaps. His mouth slams shut. He immediately drops the subject.

“Oh, um yeah. I can do that.”

He fidgets with his hands for lack of anything better to do. The loopiness from his fever is fading, his dampened healing factor working overtime to repair weary muscle. While he still had his light, Gabriel’s regeneration was enough to mend any wound in seconds. Now more than ever, he longs for that invulnerability, bestowing him confidence to the point of arrogance, reckless beyond abandon. It encased him like his shell of armor, covering incorporeal flaws. If only he could see himself now, having to rely on the tools of man and the care of another to heal. Some days, he berates his reflection. “How weak,” “how distasteful,” he thinks. “How pathetic.”

How the mighty have fallen.

His eyes flick back and forth from Minos and the floor, trying not to get caught staring. He doesn't deserve to be in their presence; a kind and noble man like him shouldn't be tainted by his darkness. Perhaps that's why Minos is being so irritable; he must be rubbing off on them. Despite the need to shy away, he spares another glance.

Gabriel's helm shields his face, but he feels naked, transparent, like the king’s iridescent skin. He sees right through them, literally and figuratively. Right through their resentment, which is held not only for Gabriel, but also for the man himself. V1 once spoke of his rage upon being liberated from the flesh prison, going as far as to describe his demeanor as “violent;” a bit ironic coming from the literal murder machine. He never thought those two words could be said in the same sentence; violence and Minos simply aren't compatible, like oil and water, fire and ice. Or so he thought.

Halfway through their battle, he grit out a single, spiteful word; “weak.” He spat it out as if it tasted vile, vicious and repulsive like acid on his tongue. And while yes, Minos despises V1 for all their kind has done to humanity, he’d never deny their skill in battle. The king was struggling to his feet, having to push off his knee to stand, frustrated that his muscles seemed to rebel against him. It's almost as if that bitterness was directed not at the machine, but instead at…

Hm. Maybe they're not so different after all.

Gabriel observes the man beside him, no longer trying to be discreet. Their shoulders are tense, whether it's from being hunched over so long or the restraint needed to not beat him until his bones are a fine, white mist, he doesn’t know. But he will risk his skeletal system if it means this’ll stop being so damn awkward.

“I’m well aware you told me to shut up,” Gabriel says, holding his hands up in a placating manner. Minos gives him a deadpan glare (or what he assumes is a deadpan glare), but lets him continue. “But I must speak my piece.” He takes a deep breath and resists the urge to pray to a god that no longer exists.

“The father once told us that all sin can be forgiven with a confession and a wave of the hand.” He laughs bitterly. “Now, that's really not true, is it.” It's not a question. He knows the answer.

“No confession will ever right the wrongs that are my actions. No apology of mine will ever be worthy of your ears. I presume you would not want one from me, anyways.”

Minos doesn't dignify him with a response, opting to stare straight ahead.

Gabriel is reminded of his own silent brooding, remembering the warm glow of the campfire while he pondered his questionable morality. After a (not-so) healthy amount of denial, he'd turned to self loathing. How could he have not recognized the council's manipulation sooner? Was he that blind, that moronic to believe their lies? Or was he just too pathetic to form any sort of resistance? What if he was more observant, would he have figured this out earlier and prevented it all from spiraling down to disaster? These questions crowded his mind, like fish in a much-too-small bucket, gasping for air, suffocating each other as they squirm and writhe. The “what ifs” and “if onlys” taunted him with a universe in which he was better, stronger.

How he yearned for someone to battle his thoughts for him, to shut down the paralyzing convictions that plagued his dreams. So maybe what they really need isn’t an apology, just simple reassurance.

“You…are not weak. Far from it.” The words come out awkward and stilted, though he barely needs to think before he speaks. It’s like the syllables have long been ingrained in the deepest parts of his mind, mouth moving to form sounds that have already left his lips.

“You were wronged, and people suffered for it, but it wasn’t your fault. Your strength would not have made a difference, though you harbor more of it than I ever will.”

It's hard to tell what Minos is feeling, half from the fact he lacks a face, and the other half being that Gabriel's people skills are out of practice. In fact, he never had them in the first place. Never had a reason to, if your only purpose is to carry out orders.

“The fact you still stand here today, tragedy after tragedy, is a show of resilience. Though you couldn’t prevent the tragedies in the first place, you did your best to make do with what was left. What’s done is done, Minos.”

He wishes he can take his own advice. Practice what you preach, as they say. Gabriel was never a good preacher, but he tries. He makes sure the other man is listening before delivering his final words.

“You did good.”

Minos says nothing, and for a terrifying moment he thinks he’s made a fatal mistake. And then the man huffs a quiet laugh. Gabriel stares in confusion.

“I…appreciate thy appraisal, but I must admit I’m rather conflicted. On one hand, I understand thou hast merit, but I am reluctant to entertain thy words, due to our history.”

Gabriel lowers his gaze, disappointed he didn’t get through to them, but Minos starts again.

“However, I must thank thee. Thou clearly drew from thy own experience; that shows courage. I shall consider thy appraisal.”

He perks up at that, looking to the king with elation and surprise.

“Just…keep the creature of steel away from this layer. I’m sure thou can surmise why.” He sounds like he’s trying to keep his anger at bay, staring at the floor.

Oh, V1. Yes, he can do that. It did destroy much of what was left of Minos’ kingdom after all, so a permanent ban from the lust layer is more than fair. And that’s not even delving into their battle, the man treating his own defeat as a sign that he’d failed humanity. He shudders at the thought of what Minos would do if he got his hands on them again.

“I understand. I’ll tell them to avoid your city.” It’s Gabriel’s turn to laugh. “Maybe it’ll actually listen to me for once.”

He fixes his eyes on the floor as well, the two sharing a moment of understanding. And then the moment is gone, brief as it is cathartic.

“Sisyphus will accompany thou as I prepare supper. Stay.” Minos goes to open the door…revealing the man in question. Speak of the devil. He has the gall to look smug, bent at the knees to press his ear to the door, the shameless bastard.

“What have I told thee about eavesdropping,” Minos seems unphased, expectant, even.

“Sorry,” But Sisyphus’ grin says otherwise. “I can't help it. Force of habit, I suppose.” The other lets out a rather childish groan.

“I would tell thou to cease thy antics, if not for thy refusal to listen.”

“That's not true. I listened in on your conversation perfectly well.”

“That's…just entertain thy guest.”

“Anything for you, my friend.”

Minos tries to slip past the other, very much ready to leave, but not before Sisyphus catches him with a warm hand on his shoulder. His large frame blocks most of Gabriel's view, but he sees his body lean into theirs. All encompassing, like a solar eclipse. He can't hear what they're saying, so he can only imagine the kindness Sisyphus reserves for friends alone, something he knows he’ll never deserve. He’ll let them have their moment, too.

Once Minos has had enough (said affectionately) with his friend’s fussing, he leaves the two alone in favor of attending to his kingly duties (or whatever that man does in his free time). Sisyphus takes a place at his side, awkwardness not any less prevalent. Time to pull out his award-winning small talk skills again, because that went over so well last time. Believe it or not, Gabriel's smart enough to know that bringing up the king's beheading is a bad idea. The traumatic event is likely still an open wound, for lack of a better term. When would it be appropriate to “get over” your own beheading, anyways? Fourty, fifty years? A hundred? Never? It's not like he's going to get his head back. Alright, now he's just stalling. He needs to come up with a conversation topic quick, because he swears the silence is eating away at his soul. Maybe he can talk about V1; he finds himself doing that often. Not that it means anything.

“...I apologize for my friend's behavior.”

Sisyphus raises a brow.

“You have friends? I never thought you had it in you to be likable.” Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be. Gabriel rolls his eyes, giving an indignant glare. “I do not know who you are referring to. Not many can tolerate your presence.”

“I'm just going to ignore what you said and move on. Look, the machine has said it regrets it's actions-”

“Ah, you mean the child of man.” His mood lifts instantly. “At least you have good taste in company. Our battle ought to be remembered; it was invigorating. I hope to have a rematch someday.” Well, that was very much not the reaction he was expecting.

“You don’t…hate V1? They nearly killed you!”

“Is that its name? I shall honor that, for unlike you,” He shoves a finger in his direction. “it fights with a sense of decency.” Gabriel shrinks under his scrutiny. “How ironic, that a war machine holds more virtue than the supreme angel.” Ouch.

“...That was uncalled for.”

“Was it? It’s not my fault that your lover has better morals than you.”

Time stands still for Gabriel. He feels like he just got shot by the railcannon. There’s no way he heard that right…right?

“I’m sorry, my WHAT?”

“Your lover,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You two are joined at the hip. It’s nauseating, honestly. Or was your relationship supposed to be a secret?” Gabriel flounders like a fish out of water. This greatly amuses Sisyphus, who’s found his new favorite pastime: pestering a certain archangel.

“I-we are not a couple! I don’t know where you could’ve possibly gleaned that from, but you’re wrong. They are my companion, nothing more.”

“Denial does not look good on you, Gabriel. I thought you were past that.”

“Listen,” he grumbles. “we may be close, but I do not have feelings for the machine!”

“Whatever you say.” He drawls, voice dripping in sarcasm. Sisyphus grins when the other lets out a frustrated groan.

“You-ngh. You are impossible. For the last time, I’m not in love with them. I don't even like them; they're, uh. Sinful and unholy-”

Thud. They whip their heads towards the noise. It sounded like someone kicking open a pair of doors.

“Did…did you hear that?”

“Of course I heard that. Now shut your mouth.” They sit in tense silence. A single beat passes before the quiet is shattered by a thunderous shout.

“CREATURE OF STEEL.”

Oh no. It better not be who he thinks it is. It seems Sisyphus has the same inkling, both slowly turning to give the other a wary look.

“...Is that-”

CRASH.

The wooden wall by the door explodes inward, a blue torpedo rocketing into the room, splinters flying everywhere. Gabriel lets out an undignified shriek. As the dust settles, he can make out a familiar figure lying in the rubble. Shit. It is who he thought it was. At least they seem completely unharmed, despite crashing through a damn wall. It perks up when it sees Gabriel. V1, like the menace it is, waves excitedly. He can’t for the life of him conjure up a single word to say, speechless for the Nth time today. Sisyphus, for one, doesn’t appear phased, greeting them with a hearty chuckle.

“Ah, V1. We were just talking about you. How nice of you to join us.” It would've given him a wave as well, but their friendly conversation is interrupted by a foreboding presence.

“THOU ART NOT WELCOME HERE.” Minos has arrived, and boy is he pissed. He stands in the hole left in the wall, posture stiff and gaze unyielding. The dim, blue-tinged light that once emanated from his form has grown into a blazing, turquoise glow. His heart pumps furiously, veins bulging, visible through his translucent skin.

If Gabriel thought Sisphysus’ wrath was terrifying, Minos’ is nearly enough to make him go into cardiac arrest. Before he can properly process his own terror, the king starts approaching V1, fists ready. Gabriel quickly scrambles to put himself between the two, reacting before his common sense can stop him.

“Don’t!”

Minos glares down at him. Somehow his lack of eyes makes him even more terrifying.

“Please. Spare them.”

The realization sets in that he’s keeping a predator from its prey, and there’s a slight tremble in the arm he shoots out to keep the man at a distance. With a huff, Minos tries to shove past, but the angel shifts to block him. Gabriel sternly shakes his head.

“Move.”

Minos’ voice drips with venom, thick with barely concealed rage. It takes everything within him to stand his ground, anticipating the worst. After all, V1 would do the same for him.

“I will not. Ask. Again.”

Fuck. Gabriel is starting to regret not bringing his swords. He watches helplessly as the other advances, quick steps with murderous intent. He tenses his muscles, steadies his breath, and prepares for a jaw shattering punch…but is instead met with a voice, low and understanding.

“Minos. Think about what you are doing.”

Gabriel locks eyes with his unlikely savior. Sisyphus is the picture of neutrality, brow set in careful analysis. He's well aware of the fragility of the situation; Minos looks like he’s just about to go off the deep end. And while he has good reason to loathe, Sisyphus knows he'll regret lashing out. His conscience always comes back to haunt him, the damn thing. As much as he'd like to see the two mashed into a red paste, Minos doesn't need another thing to lament over. He can’t say he’s looking forward to defending the duo, suddenly reminded of what provoked such an intense response. He scolds himself for starting to actually get along with Gabriel, nearly forgetting the horrors he unleashed upon his greatest friend. Sisyphus schools his expression, trying not to let his own anger show.

“Your people, they look up to you for your compassion and empathy. Where is that mercy now?”

There's a near unperceptive tremor that wracks his friend's tense frame. Good. He's getting through to him.

“The beings before you did what they needed to survive. While their actions had dire repercussions, and I am not absolving them of fault here, consider their circumstances.”

Minos doesn't want to. He doesn't want to humanize them any further. He wants to tear them apart like they did humanity, unhindered by stupid morals.

“Would one blame a trout for thrashing when caught? Would one scorn a wolf for killing to eat?”

A thick, black liquid starts to ooze out of Minos’ abyss-like face. It flows like tar, ugly and coagulated with sorrow and feelings he'd hate to dissect. In the hollow silence that swallows the room, they can hear his breath hitch.

“Gabriel,” Sisyphus says, fixing him with a piercing stare. The angel stares with wide eyes, not expecting to have been brought into the conversation. “You were a weapon wielded by another, neglected and abused. When you inevitably faltered, you were discarded like a rag.”

Gabriel lowers his gaze. He hates that they're right.

“The sins you committed were the result of eons of manipulation and torture. When you finally realized what you'd done, you took immediate action to correct your mistakes with the little time you had left.”

The angel in question is stunned into silence. Truly, what more could he have possibly done in his situation? With only one day to right his wrongs, it’d be futile to reason with the council; killing them was the sole solution. As for the sins of his past, perhaps all the blame does not fall on him. It was the council’s abuse that forced him to carry out their word, conditioned to be unquestioningly loyal to the point of blind faith. While he was the one to strike innocents down, the blood is also on their hands. An ancient weight is halved, lifted from his shoulders, no longer unbearable. A sliver of forgiveness, not from another, but for himself: a gift he never expected Sisyphus of all people to bestow upon him. He would’ve expressed his gratitude if not for the sudden shift in subject, mourning the chance to thank his unlikely advocate.

“V1,” the machine perks up at the mention of its name. “You were created to kill and survive, and you did just that. After the threat of death had passed, you opted to explore beyond your nature. If passivity was an option, you took it.”

They do little more than tilt their head in consideration. They’re a bit hard to read on the count of not having a face, so he can only speculate if it's having a similarly Earth-shattering revelation like his.

“You defied your creator’s wildest expectations. Yes, you are violent, and ruthless, and efficient, but you are more than just that. I see flair in the way you fight, confidence in your skills, and a desire to succeed. You are so much more than the actions you did in order to survive.” He lets a beat of silence pass for the information to sink in before addressing the man of the moment.

“Minos, listen to me.” The king doesn't turn to face him, but he's known him long enough to tell he’s hearing every word. “You are a just ruler who took the time to care for each of your denizens, and you have every right to be angry that they met an untimely death. You did not deserve your fate, and neither did they. And neither did V1 and Gabriel. We are all victims of circumstance.”

Minos’ fists shake, clenching and unclenching. Everything sounds like it's underwater, words garbled and distorted, yet frustratingly coherent. He wants to plug his ears and scream until he suffocates, anything to get Sisyphus’ voice out of his head. He wants to destroy everything and everyone, until there is nothing left, and then destroy himself too. For once, he just wants revenge, not resolution. It’s not like he can ever get his people back, anyways. Clench. Unclench. Clench. Unclench.

“The only thing we can do now is to live on. Stand down, Minos. Is this what your people would've wanted?”

Something in him snaps, and the fight leaves him all at once. It’s not. It’s not what they would’ve wanted; how deplorable it would be to kill in their memory. Wordlessly, he rushes out of the room. Sisyphus holds out an arm to stop the other two from following.

“No. Give him time.”

The air is plunged into silence once again. Gabriel dares to break it, eager to give thanks.

“I-thank you. We truly appreciate-”

“Don't. Just-” Sisyphus sighs, shaking his head. “don't. I didn't do this for you.”

“...”

“We will meet by the castle entrance when the sun starts to set for your departure. Do not follow me.”

“...I understand.”

Wow. A bit harsh. Regardless, he's still grateful for this new perspective, if not a tad disappointed. Sisyphus rises from his chair and heads toward the door, steps stiff yet dutiful. Lost in thought, it takes Gabriel a moment to notice the king hasn't actually left the room yet, lingering with his back turned.

“The suffering you’ve brought my dear friend is beyond cruel. For that, my forgiveness is withheld, but my words hold true. Do with that what you will.” He finally exits, figure slipping through the door.

Huh. The pseudo-approval of Sisyphus feels…nice. It’s easy for him to get lost in his own sense of accomplishment. Gabriel feels a hand rest upon his. He snaps out of his trance, eyes trailing up its arm to see the machine sitting beside him, staring ahead. There's an awkwardly long pause before V1 has the courage to speak up.

Its hands move in quick, stilted gestures, conveying aggression in its urgency. Oh, they’re angry, he realizes, cringing in anticipation. He’s had more than enough action for today, thank you very much.

What are you doing here?!

“Me? I-uh,” Gabriel scrambles for an excuse. “I was just visiting lust for a chat with a couple old friends, but um. We had a little disagreement.”

The machine raises a single brow. Or they would’ve, but making fully-functional robotic eyebrows was apparently not one of their creator’s priorities. Shame.

Right. It looks like you three had an absolute ball.

The angel grimaces.

“Alright, fine. I came here to apologize for my actions.” He huffs. “And clearly, it didn’t exactly go to plan,” gesturing to the bruises that still litter his torso.

No shit. And without your armor, too. What, were you trying to get yourself killed?

“W-well, when have you ever cared about my wellbeing?” Gabriel growls, suddenly standing to his full height. “Even if you do, I’m just a bloodbag to you. You only care about your own survival. You always have.” V1 narrows their optic.

You don’t mean that.

“What if I do? And what if I was trying to kill myself?!” He shouts, picking up the nearest chair and chucking it across the room. It isn’t until its splintered remains settle on the floor that he regains his composure, kneeling on the ground, visibly deflating.

“I should’ve died after those twenty-four hours were up. I should’ve.” He whispers. He sounds so frail, a startling divergence from his usual bravado. Cold metal makes contact with his shoulder. He turns sluggishly to V1, if only to “hear” what they have to say.

I-

Its movements falter momentarily.

I do care about you. And I always have.

They don’t meet his eyes, but he still desperately clings to the hope that it’s speaking truthfully.

“I…I need some air.”

Gabriel speeds toward the balcony, the machine following suit. He takes a seat on the banister, gaze facing forward as V1 does the same. They both stare at the blazing horizon for a while, until V1 can’t take the silence any longer.

You make me dissatisfied with existence, it blurts out, signing almost incomprehensibly fast.

Gabriel blinks. How to respond to that, he does not know.

“I…thanks? I guess?”

It frantically waves its hands, trying to show it means no ill will.

I mean, you make me want more out of life.

It was never allowed to enjoy things; It never had the chance. But now, they spar for the heck of it, not over sustenance or resources. It takes the time to manually read books instead of scanning them, something they once considered a mere waste of fuel. It ignores the alerts that flood its vision, closing them before they have the chance to tell it that it's being “inefficient.” Text irrelevant its ass. Before Gabriel, they were just surviving. Now, they live.

Gabriel can't help but smile. They said so little, but they needn’t say more. He knows what they're feeling all too well. It takes a bit of effort to muster up the courage, but the machine’s honesty spurs him on, and he manages to find his words.

“I think I understand. You taught me to…want. And by the heavens, I wanted to live, I wanted to fight and struggle and fail, to laugh and cry and watch the sunset a million times over just to say that I did. When my light was taken away, it was you who gave me clarity, and for that…I cannot thank you enough.”

He leans a bit closer, just reveling in the comfortable silence they've created. V1 scoots over, closing the distance between them. The cool metal feels nice against his skin.

I think he's right.

“About what?”

Only thing we can do now is keep living, despite-no, with the guilt.

“...How?” The question of “why” goes unasked.

Not sure. But we're still alive, so we've got to be doing something right.

“...I suppose you have a point.”

Perhaps those questions can be answered another time. Right now, all that seems to matter is the gentle breeze that passes through the cracks in his armor and the feeling of the machine's plating against his shoulder. His heart swells as they bask in the “sun's” rays. Considering they're in literal hell, that glowing ball is no star, but whatever it is shall suffice. They’ll make do, as they always. A ray of light falls upon the pair, encasing them in warmth. How picturesque. Two beings at the end of time, watching the sun set as it slips below the horizon.

…Hold on.

Aren't they supposed to be heading somewhere right now? Oh. Oh. Sisyphus is expecting them.

“Shit. We need to go, now.” He snatches V1's hand and bolts for the door. Heart to heart be damned, they have a deadline to meet.

Maybe Gabriel's previous difficulty navigating the palace was procrastination after all. It's remarkably easy to traverse, especially with his head clear and V1 helping guide him. He supposes everything feels a little easier with a clear head, and they find the castle gate in record time. The prime souls are already waiting there, punctual as expected.

As the two pairs face each other in the doorway, Gabriel notices Minos’ glazed look, Sisphysus’ hand resting on his shoulder. He follows the king’s stare, his eyes landing on the city below.. Before he has time to wallow in shame, Minos’ gaze drifts back to him. Silence. Introspection. After an excruciatingly long lapse in conversation, Minos sighs.

“I bid thee farewell. May thy travels be uneventful.” He senses the sincerity in his voice, and it's honestly relieving. The fact they can even speak to him without hatred oozing from their words leaves him dumbfounded. And it’s not forgiveness, most definitely not, but it’s something. After the atrocities he’s committed, Gabriel is endlessly grateful for this morsel of absolution. The corners of his lips turn upwards as he bows his head in gratitude. His core blooms with warmth.

Ever impatient, V1 halts their respectful exchange by tapping him twice on the shoulder, metal meeting flesh. It raises its hands to sign. Home? It asks. Gabriel huffs fondly, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, yes. We’re going home.” He pivots to the kings. “Thank you very much, truly, but we must get going. This one,” gesturing to V1. “is getting restless. And should also learn some manners.” That earns him a flick to the helmet. He swears he hears Sisyphus stifle a chuckle.

Resisting the urge to bicker, Gabriel turns away, guiding V1 into his hold. With a flap of the wings and a powerful thrust from his legs, they take to the sky. Every beat takes them higher and higher, and further and further from Lust. He doesn’t look back, just focuses on keeping V1 from slipping out of his arms.

His stamina isn’t as infinite as when he still had his light, so by the time they reach the surface, Gabriel is exhausted. They decide to call it a night and rest where they land. He sets up a campfire, not unlike the aftermath of his second defeat, but now with kinder circumstances. It’s nice having someone beside him, even if they are a bit of a pest.

“You're a nuisance, you know.”

The machine gives a cheeky thumbs up. Gabriel heaves a heavy sigh, and for the first time in eons, he feels light. His burdens do not sag and tug at his heart, and the gnawing guilt he harbors has lost its bite. He laughs, pulling V1 in, sheltering them with his wings. Joyous and content, Gabriel gives in to the lulling effect of the setting sun. As sleep pulls him under, he dreams of a hopeful future, not of tongues and teeth.

And though the sight of the lust layer still fills him with regret, the weight on his shoulders is a bit easier to carry. Gabriel may never be able to cry life back into the townsfolk, nor grieve them back from death, but he’s made an effort to make amends. It's a long way forward, yet it's a step in the right direction. These days, the shame doesn't linger and fester like it used to. It's been replaced with a fire that burns bright and unyielding. Gabriel decides he likes his newfound vigor.

And oh, how it suits him to feel strong.

Leave a reply telling me your thoughts if you'd like. :) I appreciate any and all replies lol. And yes, the last line is a reference to the dodie song "Ready now" hehe

[starcurtain]

Haikaveh Fanfics I Really Want to Read (Part 1)

Part 2. ->

1. A run-in with a cursed artifact on a research trip leaves Alhaitham intangible and invisible. He can't be seen, heard, or even open his precious books (which is the real tragedy here). Things go from bad to worse when it's discovered that the only person who can break the curse is someone who "knows Alhaitham by heart."

Problem is, nobody does. The only one who might even come close is Kaveh, and will he really be willing to go out of his way to research Alhaitham's deepest secrets just to bring his scathing roommate back?

Turns out the answer is yes, and Alhaitham is left invisibly watching over Kaveh's increasingly desperate attempts to learn more about the most private person in all of Sumeru.

Yeah... Alhaitham's probably doomed.

(Or: The Akademiya's erstwhile scribe has nothing better to do than stalk follow his roommate around unseen, gets a front row seat to Kaveh's tough life, undergoes the mortifying ordeal of being known, and realizes just how much his own cold nature has left him isolated from the world.)

Rest under the read more:

2. Another research trip gone wrong: While Kaveh's out of town on a job and without a shield this time, Alhaitham takes a nasty knock to the head during a fight. Although he wakes up all right, he doesn't have the faintest idea who or where he is. Quick-thinking nature intact, Alhaitham decides to fake his way through on context clues for a while. It's an interesting experiment, after all, to learn about his own life from an outsider's perspective.

Too bad a very silly series of coincidences occur (i.e. Kaveh took most of his work things with him for his trip, so his room is pretty bare; they wash their laundry together to save water; and everyone keeps asking Alhaitham why some mysterious "Kaveh" guy isn't with him), all of which lead Alhaitham to the absolutely incorrect assumption that this missing "Kaveh" person is his significant other. Imagine Kaveh's shock when he returns home to a very out-of-character greeting...

(But I mean, really, does Alhaitham need his memories back? This is kind of nice, you know...)

3. Requirements for a Desirable Life (According to Alhaitham):

1. Match your actions to your talents (read as: go with the flow) 2. Low stress, high paying job (read as: the balancing act between making oneself seem indispensable while underachieving as much as possible is a talent) 3. Nice home with a short commute (read as: at-home lunch hours every day) 4. Books (read as: soon as possible) 5. Kaveh (read as: the light of my life who I moved into my house through admittedly somewhat underhanded tactics just to keep him close to me, but what was I supposed to do--tell him I have actual feelings? Impossible, in the most literal of senses)

Or: Alhaitham pursues his plan for an ideal lifestyle in an utterly single-minded and undeterrable fashion... except when comes to his roommate, who--for someone so good at drawing up his own designs--also seems terribly good at ruining Alhaitham's.

Just fall in love with me already.

(Basically, I just want to see Alhaitham be the pining one for once. He is one checkmark away from his dream life, but he'd rather sell his soul to Lord Sangemah Bay than confess without knowing how Kaveh feels first.)

4. Alhaitham is preeminently capable. He's beyond a genius. His research could rewrite the laws of reality if he tried hard enough. But he's also... terrible with people. Actually, terrible is an understatement. If Alhaitham is murdered one day, it'll be because he finally committed one too many social faux pas and honestly the masses will probably say he had it coming. Thank the lesser lord that the Akademiya's scribe has someone as gregarious as Kaveh around to help him mend his obtuse ways, right?

Or: Five times Kaveh tried to lecture Alhaitham on social skills, and the one time Alhaitham put all those lessons into practice... on Kaveh.

5. The very silly comedy one: If someone were to ask Kaveh what the very worst thing about living with Alhaitham is, he'd say--well, first he'd say "Who told you?!", but after that, he'd say something that might come as a surprise. The worst thing about living with Alhaitham isn't their constant snarking and diametrically-opposed mindsets. It isn't the tacky, asymmetrical furniture Alhaitham keeps bringing home because it was "practical and inexpensive." (Kaveh's skin is crawling.) It isn't even the fact that his so-called "landlord" reminds Kaveh all too often about his unpaid rent while never lifting a finger himself to do the dishes.

Nope. The worst thing about living with Alhaitham is the experiments.

"How many books can I leave on top of Kaveh's sketches before he yells at me?"

"How angry will Kaveh get if I drink the expensive wine he brought home last night?"

"How many days will it take Kaveh to notice I keep rearranging all the stuff on his shelves while he's out?"

"How many times can I suggest he add Aranara statues to his designs before he tries to strangle me?"

It's bullying, is what it is! There's no limits to Alhaitham's behavior when his curiosity is piqued--the only thing that matters to him is the answer to whatever outrageous new question he's thought up in that thick head of his. And of course, the louder Kaveh shouts, the more "experiments" Alhaitham seems to dream up...

Honestly, someone ought to give him a taste of his own medicine!

(Or: Alhaitham and Kaveh end up in an exponentially escalating social experiment competition, pushing as hard as they can to find the other's boundaries. One of them has to break and give up soon, right?! Too bad Alhaitham's the god of stubbornness, and Kaveh's eternal peace of mind is on the line--if he can just win this, Alhaitham will finally give it up and quit bothering him! He can't chicken out first!

Because they're both very Normal™, it turns out there's not a single boundary to be found.

Well, at least answering the question "How many times can I walk in on him in the shower before he kicks me out of the house?" might save them some money on the water bill?

By the way, Kaveh wins. It turns out the answer to "How many dog ears can I fold into the pages of Alhaitham's books before he tries to kill me?" is 0.)

[inneedofsupervision]

No Spilling Secrets

Spiderman/Avengers fanfic: Lee Peter / Ler Clint, Sam & Bucky

I kinda live for the idea of there being a thin line of Peter being a genius and a clumsy baby. This is probably the siliest fanfic I've ever written, but I wanted it to be less sober. Please let me know what you think.

Summary: It was supposed to be a chill and fun Tuesday afternoon, testing the new web-shooters. Well, until Peter found himself pulling the dumbest stunt of his sixteen-year short life apart from getting bitten by a radioactive spider.

Read on Ao3

"Friday, what are the risks of this blowing up on me?"

"The risks of the web shooters malfunctioning sits at 27%, Peter."

Peter carries a smug grin as he fastens the devices around his wrists, waiting for the click that tells him they are locked in place.

"Good thing 27 is my lucky number."

"Mr. Stark said to wait until he is back from his meeting-"

"Friday, come on," interrupts Peter with a whine. "I'm Spiderman. I use them every day. I'll have it under control, promise."

There is a short silence before Friday answers, sounding as unpleased as an AI can sound. "Mr. Stark will be informed as soon as you're safety is not warranted, Peter."

"Thank you, Friday! Couldn't ask for more," answers Peter with a bright grin. He had waited all day to test the new web shooters, annoying MJ as he wouldn't stop talking about it with Ned at lunch. He also didn't bother throwing the suit on, coming directly from the lab to the training grounds. As soon as the doors close behind him, Peter doesn't waste more time and jogs over to the wall that lies on the opposite. A few meters before reaching it, he speeds up and jumps. He crawls upwards with skilled movements. 

"Let's see how these babies work."

With those words, Peter pushes himself from the wall and lets his arm shoot forward. A string of spiderwebs flings against one of the ceiling beams, hitting it with scary accuracy. Peter's fingers close around the web, and he uses the momentum to swing through the air. He lands with practiced ease on the ceiling beam at the other end of the gym, glancing down at his wrists with a thoughtful look. "The tensile strength is not bad, but I thought the elasticity would be better. Friday, can you please note that I have to look into that?"

"Noted, Peter."

"Thanks, Fri."

He continues testing the limits of the new webs by swinging around and jumping from high places to get a feeling for the strings' consistency, leaving it to Friday to take notes as he voices out his thoughts. Peter was about to climb down, satisfied with the information he had collected when something caught his eye. He squints at the ceiling near the bracing where the beam he stands on mends into the roof.

"Is that an arrow?"

As he steps closer, his suspicion is confirmed. The thing hanging from the ceiling is indeed one of Hawkeye's arrows. "How does no one notice that thing is still here?", wonders the teen loudly. It wasn't like Clint to leave his stuff lying around. Or, stuck in the ceiling in this case. 

He stood on his tiptoes and reached for the shaft of the arrow, his inhuman sense of balance the only measure to keep the teen from tumbling down and breaking his neck. 

"I recommend being careful, Peter. Those are one of Mr. Barton's new smoke-"

Peter didn't get the last few words as his fingers closed around the arrow, a winning grin growing as he gave the weapon a strong pull. The second his spidey sense goes off, he already holds one part of the arrow in his hands and stumbles when the air around him fills with a thick smock. He trips backward, trying hastily to get out of the space that fills with murky haze. Standing on nothing more than a two-inch wide metal pole, his next step back ends with his foot hitting nothing but thin air. With a surprised shout ripping from his mouth, the boy fell backward. Peter's arms flail around uselessly. In his panic, he blindly shoots a web upwards with both web shooters, praying that one of them would hit to keep him from busting his head. Both strings succeeded at sticking but in the most inconvenient way possible. In the chaos of the situation, Peter's aim had been off, causing the webs to ravel together as they lay diagonally on top of each other, sticking together as soon as they came in contact. Peter feels sick as the movement of his fall causes him to circle around like a spinning top, putting the ability of his stomach to keep his lunch to the test. 

He ended up coming to a halt a few centimeters over the ground, dangling just above the floor, and although he knew his injuries would have healed quickly, he was more than happy to not have hit the ground, because that fall would have hurt like a bitch. To his luck, he had grabbed the web quick enough to avoid popping a shoulder, but with the newly developed webbing being more sticky and drying later than anticipated, he found himself stuck with bound wrists.

Peter's mouth stands open as he openly gapes, blinking a couple of times as the last few seconds start closing up on him before a low whine emits from the depths of his throat, heat rushing into his face.

"Holy frick. That was one of the most embarrassing things to ever happen to me."

"Should I inform Mr. Stark?"

"Oh my God, are you nuts- ehm, I mean, no. Please don't. That's- that is really not necessary, Fri."

"If you say so, Peter."

He glances up at his wrists, assessing the situation. The web was enclosing his wrists completely, only his fingers sticking out of the gooey mess that hangs over his head. There was a solvent inside the web shooters, but he couldn't reach the trigger to spray it, a thick layer of web fluid lying on top. Peter puffs his cheeks before putting all his strength into his arms, trying to bust through the net. His face grew red with the force he put into his arms only to sack together in defeat. 

Maybe the new webs are a tiny bit stronger than anticipated. Spiderman usually had no problem ripping his webs up, but dangling in the air and having his wrists bound at an awkward angle, Peter had a difficul time concentrating enough power to push through the strings. Peter throws a longing look at his backpack. If he could only get his hands on it. He always had a small amount of solvent in there for emergencies. 

Peter lets out a sigh. 

He needs help.

But not from Mr. Stark. Anyone but Mr. Stark. He wasn't ready for that level of embarrassment to hit on a simple Tuesday afternoon.

"Friday, can you ask Bruce if he has some time?"

"Dr. Banner is currently not in the tower. Would you like me to call him?"

"No, no thanks. What about Natasha?"

"Ms. Romanoff is currently not available."

Okay, now Peter realizes he does have a bit of a problem. While glancing up at his hands and testing again but without success the hold on his wrists, he contemplates how he could get out of this situation. Maybe if he manages to swing his feet upwards and wrap his legs around the string, he might manage to climb back up.

"Wow, how did the spider end up caught in his own web?"

Peter's eyes dart to the person who stands leaning relaxed at the doorframe of the gym, eyebrows raised in silent amusement.

"Clint, can you please help me?"

There was a fifty percent chance to get out of this unharmed if Peter played it right. He puts on the most hopeful and pitiful expression he can muster, silently begging the archer to show mercy. The corner of Clint's lip curls into a smirk that leaves Peter wondering if he did wrong in asking Clint to help out everyone. Not that he had much variety to choose from. 

"Those are some cute puppy dog eyes you've got there, kid," comments the man as he walks over to Peter. "Any idea how to get you out?"

"There is some solvent in my backpack."

Clint turns and collects the bag. He pulls it open and roams through it while stepping back to Peter.

"How did you even end up like that?" the archer asks before pulling a small vial from the back and showing it to the dangling teen, who nods in confirmation. At the question, Peter pulls a grimace.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

Clint looks up from the vial, a spark of interest glinting in his eyes. Catching on Clint's expression, Peter feels dread settling into the pit of his stomach. That had been the wrong answer. 

"You don't want to talk about it?" asks Clint, and Peter keeps himself from whining as he watches the man putting the backpack down instead of helping him get the web off. The archer levels him with a knowing smirk, slipping the vial into his back pocket before crossing his arms over his chest. Peter knew that expression. He was 50% fucked.

"Care to explain what you mean by that?"

Peter didn't like how Clint's smile grew into a shit-eating grin as he tried pulling out an acceptable answer without adding fuel to the fire.

 

"Ehm, it's not that interesting, really. I wouldn't want to bother you with that story."

"I bet it was embarrassing," cuts Clint off, shifting his weight onto his right leg as he leans back, not looking like he's planning to help Peter anytime soon.

"Like I said, I'd rather not talk about it," mumbles Peter, avoiding the man's eyes. How the heck is he supposed to get out of this?

Clint was clearly enjoying this.

"I'll help you if you tell me what happened."

Yeah, no. Peter won't serve Clint high-class premium blackmail material of himself on a silver plate, thank you very much. Sensing the teen wouldn't spill, Clint let his hands fall as he stepped towards the teen, grin growing mischievous in a way that left the hairs on Peter's neck turn straight. 

"Peter, I'm a trained spy and assassin. I have ways to make people talk. Now, do you want to tell me how you ended up like this?"

Peter knew Clint wouldn't hurt him, but the threat of what was about to come sent a shiver down his spine. 

"Threatening teenagers now? That's low even for you, Barton," says Peter and tries to play the awful nervousness that spreads inside of him off, but Clint's trained eyes could read his unease like an open book. There was a reason Peter wears a mask when he fights. He sucks at keeping a straight face.

Clint chuckles before giving Peter a light push to the chest. The teen bites his lips as the spy's move acts like a reminder of the situation he's currently in, swinging helplessly back and forth, feet still hovering inches over the gym floor. His swinging stops with Clint grabbing the front of his shirt, keeping him from moving and simultaneously pulling him closer, bringing his mouth near his ear.

 

"Spill, little Spider," he whispers with a mock-threatening voice, but that was still enough to make Peter feel more than slightly on the edge. But he wouldn't back down now, not when the last shreds of his dignity are at stake. 

"Over my dead body."

"Oh, Petey-pie," taunts Clint as he lets go of Peter's shirt, causing the teen to swing back. "I'll make you talk. Just you wait."

Peter eyes the man warily, who stretches his hand out, pressing it flat against his stretched-out midriff. He is left with no time to wonder what the archer was playing at when the fingers of the hand twitch suddenly, digging lightly into the flesh of his stomach. The movement makes him flinch violently, not expecting the ticklish spark shooting through his middle. His eyes dart up, ready to tell Clint to take his hand from him when he catches the man's expression. 

He gulps.

Clint's face splits into an evil grin, and it dawns on Peter that the twitch of Clint's hand had not been an accident. 

"What's gotten you so squirmy, Peter? You don't happen to be ticklish, do you?"

Flipping hell.

Clint knew exactly, how ticklish Peter was. 

"That would be severely inconvenient, wouldn't it? You seem rather helpless right now."

Every muscle in the teen's body tenses at the words as his eyes are glued on Clint's hands that reach out for his sides. 

"You can make this stop whenever you're ready," suggests Clint with the same shit-eating grin as before, hands around Peter's sides, ready to squeeze. Peter bites his lip to keep the tale-telling smile that threatens to slip onto his face in place. He could already feel Clint's fingers on his skin, knowing all too well what was about to come, and the anticipation was killing him. Clint seemed to know that too, the amused glint in his eyes making it harder for Peter to keep a straight face. 

To Clint's credit, the spy gave him a few moments to change his mind before he started his attack. 

The teen flinches as two hands tweak at his sides experimentally. A ticklish jolt ran through his whole body, and the muscles of his arms tensed up on instinct, but it didn't help make the squeezing that followed less ticklish. 

"Are we trying to play tough?" teases Clint as he searches Peter's face for reactions, the latter biting his lips to keep from making noise. The chances of Clint stopping were low, but Peter's only hope was that the archer would get bored if he didn't break and let him go. 

"Oh, Pete, you sure you want to do this? We both know how to get you to talk. All it takes is a little bit of this."

Peter didn't have time to wonder what kind of evil scheme the archer was planning. Even though his spidey sense warned him of something approaching, Peter couldn't do much in his current position but flinch like he got electroshocked when ten fingers unceremoniously dug into his rips. His facade crumbles instantly, loud laughter rolling from his lips as he flails around, trying to pull himself away from the wriggling diggets.

"Clihihhihihnt nohohohoh!" protests the teen through a wave of giggles before collapsing into himself when Clint claws at his stomach, vibrating his fingers into the sensitive area and sending the teen into a fit. 

"Clint, yes!", teases Clint, mimicking Peter's high-pitched voice, grinning at the teen squirming helplessly under his tickling fingers. 

"I didn't know our training included Spiderman."

Peter thanks whoever for getting a moment to suck in some oxygen when Clint lets up from him to glance over his shoulder. 

"Oh, it doesn't. But I think training can wait. I have found something better than that."

"Something better than handing Sam his ass? I'm in."

Peter's head snaps up at the voices of the two newcomers. Peeking over Clint's shoulders, he catches sight of Sam and Bucky, clad in their training equipment, walking into the gym. His eyes fall back onto Clint, whose grin resembles a Cheshire cat when he sees Peter's expression and realizes who just joined them. 

Now he was 1001% fucked. 

Peter gulps when Bucky and Sam stand next to Clint, carrying similar amused but confused stricken expressions.

"Hell, how did you end up like that?" asks Sam, looking up at the string that keeps Peter in place. Clint pats him on the shoulder, shaking his head as if Peter were a lost cause.

"Don't try asking him. It seems there is some hot tea about how Pete-Pie ended up like this. Must be one hella funny story, but the squirt won't spill."

Sam snorts at Clint's words, eyeing the pitiful teen with a grin. The annoying bird-man found his predicament amusing and didn't even try to hide it.

"So you decided to torment him?"

Clint shrugs his shoulders as if the answer to that is obvious. Bucky crosses his arms, both metal and flesh bulging under his shirt at the movement as he gives a thoughtful look but not less amused than Sam. 

"Why didn't you ask Friday if there is a video recording of it?"

At those words, Peter's eyes went wide. His reaction doesn't go unnoticed, and Clint's eyes sparkle at the realization that Bucky just found the answer. 

Oh, hell no, he won't let that happen. 

Before the spy can step into action, Peter all but shouts at the ceiling. 

"Friday, activate protocol FTE-5!"

He waits with bated breath before Friday's voice echoes through the gym.

"Protocol FTE-5 is now activated."

The teen sags into himself in relief, chin leaning down onto his chest. That had been way too close for his liking. A finger pushes against his middle, making him flinch before looking up and into Sam's face, who looks down at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"Hey now, what did you just do, kid?"

Sam squints at him. 

"Nothing," Peter replies quickly, pointedly avoiding eye contact with the man. Clint eyes the teen hanging in front of him suspiciously. Peter didn't like the look he was receiving.

"Friday, is there a recording of what happened before I came in?" he asks without taking his eyes off Peter's face, the latter acting as if his shoelaces were the most fascinating thing he had seen all day. 

"I am sorry Mr. Barton. I am not able to answer that question."

Bucky tilts his head. He glances at the teen, the latter focusing his eyes everywhere but at one of the three men.

 

"You did this."

Peter shakes his head, picture-perfect innocence written over his face. 

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Clint's expression turns sour. 

"Friday, what did Peter do fifteen minutes before?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Barton, that is classified information."

The three men stare at Peter with various degrees of bewilderment and amazement. 

"You manipulated Friday? Is that what that protocol was about? Does Stark know about this?"

Peter didn't like how clammy his hands felt at the moment. 

"I don't know what you mean. Friday sounds alright to me," answers Peter, voice a pitch higher than usual. 

Sam scoffs and throws his hands up, mumbling something about kids and the Internet these days while Bucky studies the nervous teen. 

"What is protocol FTE-5, Peter?"

Peter presses his lips into a tight line, not going to lose a single word about it. He would take that information to his grave.

Protocol FTE-5 is the result of him spending more than half of his time with the Avengers, worst of all, Tony Stark. He should probably mention that he loved working together, but there was only so much teasing a sixteen-year-old could take from his literal idol before he combusts. Tony had developed the habit of using Friday to enjoy himself on Peter's behalf. He let the AI record some of Peter's embarrassing moments in the lab or during their fights and play them whenever Peter was too annoying. At first, it had been funny, but after some time, Peter realized with shock that he did a lot of dumb stuff that shouldn't, under any circumstances, be presented to a broader audience, and with that, he means anyone other than Mr. Stark. To avoid getting killed by finding a way for the ground to swallow him whole after embarrassing himself again, Peter decided to take matters into his own hands. Thus, Protocoll FTE-5 was born.

 

"You know I like you, Peter, but that's dramatic even for you. Hacking into Friday and putting in a protocol to delete every recording Friday did of you in the last thirty minutes? Isn't that a major safety threat?" had asked Ned during one of their decathlon meetings, words whispered behind his hand.

"You don't understand, Ned. I'll die if things continue like this!" Peter had been nothing but serious about the matter. Getting reminded by Tony through video clips of himself that he kind off blew up the lab three times in one week was stressing him out more than he liked to admit, even though he knew Tony was only poking fun at him and not mad.

 

Ned had given him a skeptical look before he glanced around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation.

"What does FTE even stand for?"

Peter had given him his most serious expression.

"FTE - Fuck, that's embarrassing."

He had to admit, Ned's disappointed look kinda hurt his pride. He thought the name was good. 

"That name is embarrassing. You are acting like a baby, Parker."

MJ had stood behind the two and rolled her eyes before throwing a ball of paper against his head to get his attention back into the meeting, leaving him with a beet-red face and his head in his hands. Ned had leaned over, poking his head with a pen to see if his friend was still alive.

"The name fits. That was really embarrassing."

Peter had wanted to die.

So, no, he wouldn't talk about it. Ever. Nothing could bring him to spill.

"We are back to not talking again? Well, tough luck, Parker. While I'm capable of mercy, I know someone who doesn't register that word in his dictionary." Clint tilted his head towards Bucky, who was sporting a menacing grin on his face. 

Okay, Peter, don't let them intimidate you. They will let up if things get boring. At least, that is what he tries to tell himself as he holds his chin high, leveling Barton with a challenging smile. 

"You're saying Bucky is illiterate?"

Sam honest to god, snorts at Peter's words and claps a hand onto Bucky's shoulder as he bends over, laughing into his fist. Although the joke is on Bucky, the ex-assassin's composure slips ever so slightly as a twitch of his lips upwards shows he was just as amused as Sam. 

Clint, on the other hand, is for once lost for words. It doesn't happen often, but Peter just managed to leave the quickwitted spy flustered.

"I did not-, Bucky's is not-, oh, you know what, you'll regret that, kid."

Maybe sassing at Clint while dangling with bound wrists from the ceiling hadn't been his wisest idea. A nervous smile wound a way on Peter's face when Clint stalks over with a scowl, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows.

 

"Hey, how about we talk this out? Clint, please?"

If looks could kill, Peter would have died three seconds ago. Clint's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Oh, we will talk. After I'm done with you."

Oh my god, now he was utterly fucked. Like, absolutely inevitably fucked. 

"You don't have to do this Clint, serious-NOHOHOHOHOHO!"

Peter violently pulls at the string holding him in place, a scream ripping from his mouth before a burst of hysterical laughter fills the entire gym. Fueled by the strong reaction, Clint continues digging his thumbs into Peter's exposed armpits.

 

"CLIHIHIHIHINT! PLEAHAHASE STAHAHAHAHAP!"

"What's wrong, Peter? Where is all of that sass now?" mocks the archer before he changes from using only his thumbs to all of his fingers to scratch and scribble along the sensitive pits, earning him a shriek and lots of bucking as Peter desperately tries to do anything to get the fingers away from his skin. Oh my god, it tickled so bad Peter thinks he's growing mad. The fingers dig into all his worst spots with deadly precision, rendering him into a squealing and widely kicking mess in mere seconds. 

"Seeing this with my own eyes, I would almost conclude that he's ticklish," heard Peter Sam say over the sound of his laughter. 

"What makes you think so?" asks Bucky with feigned surprise as the two just stand there, observing how Clint absolutely wrecks Peter. Peter doesn't know why their casual teasing causes him to grow even more embarrassed than he already was, but he feels his already reddened face heat up even more. 

"Clint, I think you should let Mr. Tomato over here breathe. The kid looks like he's about to burst."

To his immense relief, the fingers retreated shortly after Sam's comment, giving Peter time to suck in precious air. He was panting, arms aching from straining himself in the unfavorable position. When his breathing calmed down and he didn't feel like his heart was about to burst from his chest, Peter dared to glance up. Nervousness washes over him as he realizes that the three men had been watching him collect himself.

"So Spidey, you think you can last against three Avengers?" asks Sam as he steps closer, a predatory grin on his face. The hair on his arms and neck stands up when Bucky starts moving. The taller man walks around him until he stands out of his vision, but Peter can feel him hovering over him from behind, and the knowledge does nothing but send his senses on edge. 

"Are you ready to talk yet, Peter? If not, you don't see it, but Bucky here is ready to get into interrogation mode," informs Sam with a sadistic glee in his eyes. As on command, a pair of hands come into view, hovering just above his stomach, and Peter bites his lips, trying to keep the smile down that's forcing its way on his face. The hands begin to inch closer, barely hovering over his tummy, and Peter sucks his stomach in, trying hard to keep it together. When the hands shot forward, fingers wriggling tauntingly but not actually touching him, Peter's resolution breaks. He is immensely embarrassed by how quickly he crumbles.

"Get awahahahahy from mehehe!" squeezes Peter out between his panicked laughter. Clint grins in amusement, watching the squirming teen from the sidelines, giving Sam and Bucky a chance to have their fun but not leaving a moment to poke fun at Peter. 

"He hasn't even started, kid. You won't last a minute, but you can make him stop now. You simply have to spill your dirty little secrets."

The three men wait, but Peter stubbornly shakes his head, not giving in.

"Well, we tried it the easy way. Bucky, go on."

Clint grins at the way the kid's eyes grow wide as the hands start coming into contact with his middle, and begins ruthlessly tickling him. 

"NAhahahah BUHUHUHUCKY DOHOHON'T!"

He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut tightly as an assault of ticklish sparks shout right from the place Bucky's fingers dig into his skin into his brain, leaving him in stitches. 

"Let's take this up a notch." Sam grins and walks over to the screeching teen, ready to join the party. Peter's eyes shoot open as he feels a second pair of hands beginning to tickle him, seizing his hips and giving them a quick succession of well-timed squeezes. The feeling of four hands tormenting him became unbearable quickly. Peter's body acts on its own when he tensed his arms and pulled his feet up towards his chest. Before Sam could register what was happening, a pair of thin but strong legs closed around him, catching and trapping his arms against his waist and rendering him immobile.

 

"How did you manage that?" asks Bucky from behind Peter with amusement as he catches Sam's predicament.

"Come on, Peter. Let Sam go. You should stick to catching bank robbers or flies and not birds."

"Thehehere are spidehehrs thahahat cahahtch bihihirds!"

"Alright, nerd," teased Bucky and rolled his eyes before he claws with his right hand into Peter's ribcage while the other scratches teasingly into his exposed armpit. 

"No, no, no, Buhuhuck, pleahahase dohohn't!"

"Let him go, and I'll stop," he suggests, tone playful.

"Youhu're lyhyhying!"

"Oh, how did you know?" asks Bucky, smirking and kneading into the kid's lean sides, earning more trashing and shrieking.

"Bucky, stop tickling him for a moment. I think he's going to break my spine at this point."

Sam pulls a grimace as Peter's legs squeeze tighter around his middle with every second. 

"I think I can help with that."

Clint approaches the man, glancing over Sam's shoulder at Peter. 

"Peter, let go of Sam."

Peter shakes his head violently, not thinking about giving Sam another chance to attack him.

Clint lets out a sigh before shrugging his shoulders. 

"You leave me no other choice, kid."

Clint stands behind Sam and glances down where Peter's legs close around the man's midriff. He reaches out and quickly scribbles his fingers over the soles of the teen's feet. With a high-pitched shriek, the legs let loose, and Sam was about to let out a sigh of relief when a foot came in contact with his chest and sent him flying back a few meters. 

"Shihihit! Sohohohrry Saham!"

He hears Bucky let out a shocked but not less amused laugh.

"You should wear shoes in the gym, Peter. Bruce or Tony will kill you if they find out you walk around here in just socks."

"I wahahas juhuhst testing out my geahahahar."

"Still, that's dangerous. Something could happen to your feet."

Clint reaches out to catch one of the flailing feet to give it a quick tickle, but Peter sees it coming and pulls them quickly close to his chest, scowling at the man as threateningly as he can while laughing his head off. It wasn't very threatening. 

"Leahahahave them alohone, Clihint!"

Clint puts his hand up defensively, carrying a smirk on his face. "Okay, okay. No need to pull a Sam on me, kid."

"Hey!" shouts Sam from his place on the ground, grimacing as he rubs his chest. 

"Clint's right, that's still dangerous," comments Bucky, and it drives Peter mad how the three were talking this causally while the ex-assassin did everything that leaves Peter laughing his head off.

 

"I dohohon't wear shohohes in the suhuhit eithehheher!" he protests as well as he could. 

Sam frowns at that when he comes to a halt next to Clint, sending Peter a disapproving glance. "Don't let the public hear that. I can already see CPS getting sent after us.  Excuse me, your enhanced spider toddler doesn't wear shoes while fighting DoomBots. We need to do a home visit. "

"I ahaham nohohot a toddlehehrr!" growls Peter, glaring at Sam.

"You are not? I'll bet I can make you sound like one."

Before Peter can ask what Bucky is talking about, a muscled arm wraps around him, finger hoking under the hem of his shirt and pulling it up. The arm stays wrapped around his chest, holding the shirt in place and exposing his middle to the cold air while simultaneously taking the last bit of room Peter had to move. He was now rendered completely immobile, and whatever Bucky was planning to do to him, Peter didn't know how much more he could take. 

"Would you look at that? Is that a cute little tummy that begs for attention?"

Peter's eyes grew twice in size at the words and the tone of voice Bucky was using. Bucky cannot be serious about doing this. 

"Does Pete-Pie's tummy want some tickles? Hmm?"

Peter didn't need to see the man's face to know he was wearing a massive shit-eating grin. If Peter had thought he had been embarrassed before, this was taking the meaning of being embarrassed to a whole new level. The worst thing about Bucky teasing him and talking to him like he was a three-year-old was the fact, that Peter couldn't shake off the nervous anticipation as he watched the metal arm creeping closer, fingers wriggling playfully just above his stomach. 

"You still won't talk Pete-Pie?"

"Fuck off, Buhuhucky!"

Sam shakes his head as he watches Bucky messing with the kid.

 

"You see Barton, that is what I talked about earlier. I don't care about people telling me Spidey is a genius, that just now didn't sound very genius to me."

Clint grins at the words, shrugging his shoulders. 

"Maybe he likes getting tickled?" he asks.

"Is that it, Pete? Do you like tickles? Like the little toddler, you are?" teases Bucky and starts scratching the tips of his fingers ever so lightly over his bare navel, causing Peter to scrunch his nose up as he tries to hold back the giggles that were building up in his throat. What Bucky did to him was nothing like the ruthless attacks from before. This was all gentle and teasing touches, dragging and wriggling fingertips lightly over his sides and stomach, searching for spots that made Peter twitch. 

Peter was biting his lips, dreading to give Bucky the satisfaction of making any sound after getting humiliated like that, but the ex-assassin really knew how to fish for a reaction. It got harder and harder to keep the noises from escaping as the fingers wandered upwards, dangerously close to his ribcage. Catching onto the way the body in his arm tenses up, Bucky's smirk grows even wider, and he pulls his hand away, creating a false sense of security before he brings his head closer to Peter.

"I found your weak spot, little Spider," he growls into the teen's ear, and his hand shoots up, pressing his fingertips under the highest of Peter's ribs, and vibrating his hand but not in a ruthless manner from before. It did create just the effect he had gone for, breaking the last of Peter's walls down, and soon high-pitched giggles poured out of the teen's mouth. A wide grin splits Peter's face, and the childlike giggles cause the three men to grin at the sound filling the gym. As much as they liked teasing Peter, they all had to admit that his high-pitched giggles were nothing but adoring. 

"Sure, you're sixteen and not three, Peter?"

Peter couldn't form an answer, too busy giggling his head off as the claw-like hand started vibrating into his belly, sending ticklish waves through his whole body. He could feel the heat in his head spreading down to his neck and chest, and he probably looked more flustered than ever before. The worst thing was that Bucky didn't seem to even think about stopping anytime soon, and Peter felt close to giving up.

"Okay, Gentleman, as fun as tormenting the kid is, we will end this here."

Peter had never felt more relieved to hear Tony's voice before. He listens half-heartedly as the man approaches the group before coming to a halt in front of him, glancing at him with a twitch of his lips.

"You're still alive."

"Just peachy, Mr. Stark."

"Good. Because I have a few things to discuss with you, Peter."

Peter catches himself as the string of web is cut and catches sight of Bucky, Clint, and Sam exiting the gym while Tony beckons him to follow him to one of the benches standing at the side. 

Peter sits down while Mr. Stark pulls out one of the extra vials with the solvent for the web fluids. He holds his still bound together hands out, waiting for the man to spray the solvent and free him when he gets pushed back onto the bench.

"Mr. Stark?" asks Peter, staring wide-eyed at the man who had pushed him down. 

"Oh no. You are not off the hook yet, Parker."

"I don't know what you are tal-"

"Ah ah ah," interrupts Mr. Stark and presses his finger against Peter's lips to keep him from talking. 

"Care to explain why you hacked into Friday, Peter."

Oh fuck.

"Not the words I would use, but that sums it up well enough."

Peter didn't mean to say that out loud. He gulps when Mr. Stark raises an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain himself.

"These three didn't manage to, but I know how to make you talk, Peter. Don't let it come to that," warns Tony and places a hand on Peter's stomach, keeping him from getting up.

"You saw all that?"

"This is my tower kid. What did you expect?"

Now Peter was seriously fucked.

[freaky--verse]

resident evil omegaverse au - intro.

I mainly made this AU because I really enjoy Resident Evil, Chreon, and the Omegaverse. I've written few fanfics for it and will probably continue to do so, but I'm not too sure those will ever see the light of day... (Maybe if this account gets some traction and people want me to, I'll post some)

I see Leon as an Omega (maybe transmasculine/ftm but I've never fully thought about that) and Chris as an Alpha, so those dynamics play a large piece in my au. I'm also extremely into the idea of hybrids/everyone having animals ears and a tail, so there's that. I like to think of Leon as some kind of wild cat, or a Lynx. Chris is a big ol' German Shepherd to me cuz it just fits, I dunno.

Essentially, the idea is that Leon and Chris had gotten into a relationship just after RE6 (The fight scene where Chris recognizes Leon as he's going after Ada plays a big part but I'll not get into that now). It wasn't too serious, Chris being a little more attached than Leon was willing to let himself be.

It's a fairly rocky relationship since Leon doesn't really want to get attached to Chris and Chris took getting into a relationship as some big solution, that Leon was finally fully trusting him, only to find out that it wasn't the case. Chris isn't dumb, he knows Leon has problems, but he just got a little too hopeful.

The two had sex on and off, Leon using it as a way to unwind with someone he trusted, but Chris taking it as a genuine bonding experience (I won't go into it now because this is already too long, but that also led to more arguments). Eventually, Chris fucks up and decides to have sex with Leon while Leon is in the prime of a heat cycle. That leads to Leon getting pregnant and breaking up with Chris. He doesn't get rid of the baby, but things get really rough really fast for both Leon and Chris.

To sum the rest up, Leon and Chris come crawling back to each other and somehow manage to mend things. It's still rough and weird, but during the last few months of Leon's pregnancy and after their kid is born, things smooth out.

This got so much longer than I was expecting, so here you go, I guess?