#and eventually my ability to believe someone could keep making choices like that without ever learning

[lith-myathar]

.

[bowie-boy]

please tell me how the narrator is a trans man

@originalpatrolsheep @undeadbreeze I’m @ing you here because I actually received this ask first!

FIGHT CLUB SPOILERS BELOW

Without further ado, here is my explanation as to how Fight Club is a trans metaphor!

The Narrator is a trans man

At the beginning of the film, the narrator is an insomniac and is wildly depressed. He can’t sleep. He starts visiting a center for men with testicular cancer. This is where he meets Bob, a man with no testicles and with breasts. Despite this, Bob is still seen as a man. It’s only in Bob’s arms that the Narrator, saying “We are still men,” can cry and therefore sleep. The Narrator feels gender euphoria when he is with Bob, a cis man with feminine features who is still considered male.

Everything changes when Marla Singer, a woman, begins to attend the same centers as the Narrator. It is only when she arrives that the Narrator feels like an impostor there and becomes hyperaware of his own lies amongst the people at the centers. Therefore, the Narrator cannot cry anymore and can no longer sleep. (In real life, some trans people may feel uncomfortable spending time with those that are the opposite gender as them for fear of being seen as part of that group and getting misgendered, which is partially what I believe spooks the Narrator here.)

Marla Singer represents the Narrator’s relationship with his own femininity, something he unwillingly ties to his dysphoria. Despite his love-hate relationship with her throughout the film, she remains one of his staunchest allies and is perhaps the only thing keeping him grounded in who he is and who he used to be throughout the film.

Shortly after meeting Marla, the Narrator meets (creates) Tyler Durden. Tyler describes himself to the Narrator later in the film: “All the ways you wish you could be, that's me. I look like you wanna look. I fuck like you wanna fuck. I am smart, capable, and most importantly, I am free in all the ways that you are not.” Trans much? Tyler Durden is the idealized cis man, the prototype for masculinity that everyone in society is fed at an early age. (These representations affect and even especially affect trans men.) Tyler is the standard that the Narrator’s internalized transphobia makes him feel like he must live up to, or else he isn’t a real man.

The Narrator’s relationship with Tyler eventually leads to the creation of Fight Club, a hub of toxic masculinity that attracts all sorts of men. All of them have one thing in common—they want to prove themselves. Tyler repeatedly says that the men in Fight Club are “the most manly men” he has ever seen, a wonderfully effective way for the Narrator to validate himself. What’s more, no women are allowed. The Narrator doesn’t have to face his own femininity in Fight Club, and he doesn’t have to face that side of his dysphoria.

It’s around this point in the movie that Tyler and Marla become involved in a sexual relationship. This is symbolic in itself in the sense that the Narrator’s internalized transphobia is “dominating” his femininity and dysphoria. Even more important is the fact that the Narrator can never see Tyler and Marla in the same room. This is because, to the Narrator, they cannot coexist. The Narrator can no longer comprehend his masculinity and his femininity coexisting in him. He can deal with one or the other at one time, but he forgets that he can have both at once. The Narrator himself believes that neither is taking over his life and neither is being lost. This is what ultimately leads to his downfall.

(This is a little unrelated but it’s important to note that the solution of Tyler and toxic masculinity never helps the Narrator sleep as well as the centers at the beginning of the film did. The Narrator learns that he was never sleeping when he was with Tyler, he was just taking on a new side of himself. Internalized transphobia also led the Narrator to self-harm in many ways (the chemical burn, the fighting, the car crash). Hypermasculinity was not a helpful solution.)

It’s at this point in the film that the ongoing symbol of testicles (I know it sounds silly but hear me out) shows up again. This time, testicles are not something trivial on a man that have nothing to do with his masculinity and maleness. They are used as a threat. Tyler and some members of his army meet up with an official in the city, someone who challenges their ability to destroy buildings and public works. Tyler makes the official an offer: he can save his city or he can save his balls. The official chooses the latter. This is incredibly telling, as the men the Narrator associated with at the beginning of the film had no choice but to remove their testicles. This didn’t make them any less manly in the eyes of the Narrator. Now, though, the Narrator’s own projected sense of internalized transphobia presents a strong message: testicles are important to your status as a man.

It’s shortly after this that the Narrator views Tyler Durden’s relationship with Angel Face, someone who can be described as nothing else but a pretty boy. Tyler, despite being the epitome of toxic and hypermasculinity, respects and adores the somewhat feminine Angel Face. How does the Narrator react? By beating Angel Face until he is bloody and fully disfigured. This represents the Narrator’s resentment of society’s treatment of trans men. The Narrator does not see himself in Angel Face the way that he once saw himself in Bob. He feels that cis men can easily balance femininity and masculinity, that these two things can coexist without an issue for them. For trans men, masculinity must win out, or else society (or at the very least internalized transphobia) will never accept them. Tyler drives the Narrator much harder than Angel Face with much less payoff, and so the Narrator must destroy Angel Face as revenge.

The Narrator seems to have everything he wants until Bob shows up in the film again. The Narrator asks Bob if he’s still attending the centers they met at, to which Bob replies no—he’s now joined Fight Club. At first, this is validating for the Narrator. Bob is feminine still, with no testicles and large breasts, but he’s still considered man enough for Fight Club. The Narrator more or less lets Tyler (AKA unchecked toxic masculinity) do what he likes with Bob. This ends with Bob getting killed. In fact, Bob’s brains are blown out as he tries to follow one of Tyler’s orders. Bob represented a chance at normalcy for the Narrator, proof that men with breasts and without balls were worth just as much as other men. But Bob dies at the hands of the Narrator’s toxic masculinity, and it is this event that leads the Narrator to realize just how much he’s lost to his own feelings of inadequacy.

It’s at this point that the Narrator starts to question his toxic masculinity and his internalized transphobia. He realizes that he’s no longer even himself anymore, just a copy-and-pasted blueprint of the man society has told him that he should be. He can’t recognize himself anymore, can’t keep track of what he really feels and what he only tries to, and he realizes that he needs to end his hypermasculinity before it’s too late.

There’s only one person the Narrator can turn to to get his old self back: Marla. He visits her, apologizing for his behavior towards her. He even tells her that deep down, he really really likes her. This is a big moment for the Narrator. He admits here that his feminine side isn’t something he despises, but rather something he fears getting close to. The other important thing is that Tyler, who was once sleeping with Marla and deeply invested in her, now views her as a threat. The Narrator’s femininity threatens to overtake his masculinity, his dysphoria and euphoria threaten to overrule his internalized masculinity. Tyler wants to destroy Marla, and the Narrator wants to protect her.

For the last time in this film, the symbol of testicles appears. This solidifies how far the Narrator has fallen, how deeply he’s lost himself to self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy. Upon trying to destroy Tyler’s plan, Tyler’s army of men turns on the Narrator and tells him they’re going to cut off his balls. To them and to Tyler, this represents that the Narrator has turned against his brothers, his maleness. The loss of his testicles will show this to everyone. The Narrator, horrified, manages to escape this fate, but without his pants. He spends the final act in his underwear, somewhat symbolic of the trans body he’s worked so hard to achieve and has spent so much of the film despising.

At last, the final fight of the film. The Narrator faces off with Tyler, and must attempt to regain control of his own head. The Narrator struggles at first, unable to accept the fact that him and his internalized transphobia are one in the same, and that he has the power to overrule it. Finally giving into himself, the consequences of his actions, and the messiness of gender and his own expression as a human being, the Narrator takes control and shoots himself. With this, Tyler dies, and so does the Narrator’s internalized transphobia. His toxic masculinity is no more. He’s given himself permission to display his masculinity as much as he wants, and in any way he wants. Internalized transphobia has power over him no more.

Marla then enters the room. She expresses concern for him, the simple Narrator she met at the beginning of the film now so torn up and injured. This is representative of the Narrator’s past pre-transition self looking at his most transitioned self. He’s bruised and broken, a lot different than before. But he insists that he’s okay, and he truly means it. The Narrator is now more himself than ever. It’s in this confidence that the Narrator’s takes Marla’s hand, finally accepting his own femininity, dysphoria, and the full scope of his gender expression. “You met me at a very strange time in my life.”

In a final image, the buildings all around the Narrator and Marla explode and collapse, leaving nothing behind. The Narrator could not stop this total destruction. But the film does not make this a sad moment. It’s rather somewhat wistful, perhaps even hopeful. The Narrator had to destroy himself in order to be reborn as his full and true self. A rebirth. Isn’t that was being trans is?

Thank you for the ask! I hope you enjoy my analysis :)

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords

Summary: In order to keep Ravka intact, general Kirgan, the Darkling, must marry. Needless to say, he’s not happy about it, but neither is his bride.

Warnings: indicating smut, slight angst

============================

Standing at the altar, wearing his black kefta, the Darkling grinds his teeth at the closed door at the end of it.

Any moment now, the door will open and his bride will appear as an angel in white. Except, the Darkling preferred to think of her as devil incarnate.

Although her beauty is without faults, her mind is sharp and her tongue can be sweeter than honey, Y/N Y/L/N is everything the Darkling hates.

She's entitled, bratty, arguably manipulative and downright cruel. She's all that and more, at least to him. But the one thing he cannot forgive her for is her lineage. As a daughter of a man he sought to destroy, Y/N became general Zlatan’s bargaining chip.

“You must marry her and she must be included in all decisions concerning Ravka on my behalf, or we will declare independence.”

General Zlatan gave the emperor no room to argue on the matter, forcing the marriage onto them. As the emperor had no male descendants to marry off, the next in line was general Kirigan. And while the Darkling fought the emperor on this instance, he was given no choice – either marry Zlatan’s daughter or someone else will be ascending as a leader of the Second army.

"Is it too late to run?" Ivan turns to Kirigan and Fedyor with a breathless chuckle, earning a dirty look from the official Y/N insisted marries them. She caved on the Palace setting, but no one could bend her will on who it is that seals their marriage contract.

"You promised." Fedyor reminds him and Kirigan closes his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Maybe some promises are best broken. She'll be the death of Ravka." Licking his lips, the Darkling glances at the door as a faint noise is heard on the other side of the door.

‘Of me’, he thinks to himself, ‘She’ll be the death of me.’

“She is Zlatan’s daughter with no special powers”, Ivan scoffs, “What could she possibly do?”

"I'll make her just as unhappy as I am now. She's never going to love me and I most certainly will never love her," the Darkling huffs, straightening his back as his eyes narrow at the door. “Unhappy women are always dangerous.” He pauses, pursing his lips, “Even if they are just human.”

"You said this is a business deal, so think of it as such." Ivan raises an eyebrow, wondering why is love even on Kirigan’s mind. In all his time serving his general, Ivan never heard the word pass his lips before now.

"I will”, the Darkling rolls his tongue, focusing on Ivan and Fedyor again. "Tell me you’d fight with me to preserve Ravka if I walk away."

"Do whatever you want, but you better be fast because your bride is coming", Fedyor nods toward the grand opening of the grandiose door, revealing a vision in white and the veil covering her face.

"Fuck", the Darkling mutters under his breath, his heart jumping at the sight.

He watched her walk, his nerves gnawing away at him and all he could think about is why his heart is beating so fast. Why would he be nervous? She should be the one drowning in nerves instead of walking so confidently. Why is she not afraid of him?

Folding his shaky hands behind his back, the Darkling could have sworn every step she took closer made his heart drop further in his chest. It was only a matter of time before he had nothing left but to accept his destiny and take an ordinary woman such as Y/N as his bride. Oddly enough, he found comfort in her mortality. She would die eventually and he’ll be free of her. If she angers him or her father stirs up trouble, he’d make sure he’ll be free much sooner.

Finally in front of him, Y/N holds her breath as the Darkling reluctantly pulls the veil up, revealing her face.

When she first met him, it was on a field of scattered, mangled bodies. He looked at the sky like a man would look at a withered flower in which he no longer sees the beauty he plucked it for, thus destroying it.

And when he looked at her, Y/N forgot to breathe.

There are no traces of doubt, no evidence this isn't the happiest day of her life. If anything, the Darkling is in awe of her and her ability to maintain composure without showing the slightest inkling of her disdain for him. He’s looking for a weakness, studying her in order to find something, anything he could use to make her submit to him, but she’s not flinching. Her stare is unyielding, fierce, and she is unbowed, like a rose in the eye of a hurricane.

"You should have worn the white kefta. Black is for funerals", she notes, her voice low and cold and the Darkling can't help but scoff.

“Black is my color. Besides”, he leans in, pressing his lips against her cheek before whispering, "It is a funeral."

While the crowd whispered and awed over the little exchange, Y/N's lips twitched into a brief smile. Reaching out for his hand, she tilts her head to her left, hiding her face with the veil as she scowls at him.

The ceremony begins, but neither the Darkling nor Y/N can truly focus on a single word said. Y/N is busy wondering what she could do best to make his life hell. This isn’t exactly what she had in mind for her future either and being exchanged like a broodmare to delay a war is unforgivable. She couldn’t forgive her father for giving her over to a known monster, nor could she forgive her seconds-to-be husband.

He is cruel, manipulative, a beast hidden under a handsome built and he may be appealing to the eye, but she can feel he’s rotten inside.

The Darkling’s eyes are fixed on her, examining every single inch of her rather small sized body. Though her curves are undeniable, her height would leave him with a craned neck and back pain in the future. Inhaling sharply, he tried to understand why his thoughts of all the things he hates about her include ripping that wedding dress straight off her. She looks far too appealing in a dress for him to ignore and it sparks a fire to further fuel the flames of hate he’s tended to.

Either way, quicker than imagined, the Darkling found himself saying "I do", forcing a smile that matched the one she displayed. Unlike his cold smile that didn't reach his eyes, Y/N was capable of making her smile believable, enough for him to envy her acting skills.

"You may kiss the bride."

Licking his lips, Kirigan's eyes flicker to Y/N's lips. He never kissed her before, the human who perfectly portrayed an ice queen. It would be a lie if he said kissing her never crossed his mind, but it didn't feel like he'd willingly do so even if he had a chance. He didn’t desire her at all. He refused to allow himself as much.

Y/N glanced at the crowd, seeing their little whispers about how long Kirigan is taking and how they pity her for marrying someone like him – a dark shadow, an abomination even in their world.

She felt a shuddered breath pass her lips as Kirigan leaned into her, torturously slow and the worst part? He smells good, intoxicating kind of good. And whether she liked it or not, her heart fluttered as his lips grazed hers and his hand cupped her cheek.

The Darkling's heart quivered, his mind overflowing with frustration. He couldn't comply and kiss her wholeheartedly, but he found himself wanting to turn her over, to have his way with her.

She's infuriating, unlawfully cocky and unjustly stunning. No wonder hell is where most mankind would go considering the beauty of its tempting demons that poise as naïve angels.

Snapping out of the daze, she pulls back first, whispering against his lips. "Hope you enjoyed it, because it will be the last time you’ll ever taste my lips in your lifetime."

Blinking slow, the Darkling smirked, genuinely entertained. "We will see about that", and he took her words as a personal challenge. 

He would melt the ice queen and have her on her knees, begging for his love before the year is done. He will demean Zlatan by turning his own daughter against him and he will do so with pleasure.

Part two

[nanasparadise]

“Imprisonment” Yan!Jolyne x female reader

This blog was in dire need of some wlw content. In that sense, I hope you had a happy pride month and enjoy this piece! 

Summary: You are the target of many inmates in Green Dolphin. That changes when Jolyne becomes your cellmate, for the better or worse. 

TW: toxic relationship, prison, bullying, violence, insults, threats, slight gore (ear mutilation), noncon kiss, allusions to NSFW, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

Word count: 2853

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life. 

„Get your ass moving, girl!”

You truly hated it here. A day spent at Green Dolphin felt like being ten years in hell. The queue in the prison cafeteria moved forward quickly, since everyone got the same horrible food. As you hadn’t reacted fast enough, you’d received rude comments. At this point, you didn’t care about the insults anymore. You were used to them, you had no affiliation with anyone here, meaning the other inmates saw you as fair game. In addition to your nature as a pushover, you weren’t surprised to be the target of many prisoner’s sadistic streak.

You took your tray containing your lunch – a portion of rather questionable meat and some mashed potatoes – and went to your solitary table. A blissful sigh escaped your lips when you finally were alone in your corner. No, worse than any insults or solitude were the threats, hidden under fake smiles. Not a single day went without them. You always were forced to do ‘voluntary tasks’ for the designated mean girls of Green Dolphin or ‘lend’ them money. It was humiliating, really, but you didn’t want to end up beaten to death in your cell, so you followed their instructions.

Once you completed the laundry task, you decided to spend the rest of the afternoon in the library, hoping to find an interesting enough book to teleport you away for a couple hours from your harsh reality. You settled into the couch with a novel in your hands, enjoying this slight moment of calmness. Your peace was short-lived though as a blonde woman approached you, a saccharine smile plastered on her face. Oh no, you knew where this would go.

“Hi! How are you doing today?”, she greeted you with a fake happiness swinging in her tone.

“Fine”, you mumbled quietly, not being able to assert yourself.

“I’m glad to hear that!,” she replied, though you knew she didn’t give a shit about your well-being, “Look, I’m so sorry to bother you again, but could you give me ten dollars? I need them for something very important and you’ll get them back in no time!” She batted her eyelashes at you, seemingly coming across as innocent.

“I would, but I forgot the money in my cell”, you countered, trying to come up with an excuse.

“Then stand up and get it.” Her voice had already shifted into a menacing tone, eyes gleaming like a predator.

“I don’t know if I-“

“Y/N, that was your name, right? Well, if you don’t get me my money, our friendship will be ruined and you’re aware of the consequences of that, aren’t you?”, your fellow inmate replied while pulling you by the collar of your uniform up from the couch.

“Right…,” you whispered, accepting your defeat, “I’ll get it for you.”

“Awesome!,” the blonde chirped, all sunshine and rainbows again, “I’ll wait for you here,  just don’t take too long.”

That was how your life went. You didn’t complain too much, you knew it could be way worse than that. And it wasn’t as if you had much of a choice to change it anyway. You weren’t going to be released from prison in the next twenty five years. “So just accept it and move on, day by day”, you mused, repeating that thought every day.

Your life took a turn, however, when a new inmate joined Green Dolphin. She was a young woman around your age, dark buns adorning her head and a green fringe framing her face. You had been spared from a cellmate, but that all changed now, as she was your new roomie. “Great,” you thought bitterly, “now my last bit of peace has been stolen from me.”

She introduced herself as Jolyne Kujo. Jolyne seemed to be still quite naïve when it came to prison life, claiming she’d been conned and that her lawyer would certainly take her out from there. “It’s time to face the fact that no one cares if you’re here for a valid reason or not, trust me, I know it from experience”, you thought, though you didn’t dare voice that to her.

She actually turned out to be nice. And with that, you meant that she respected your private space and didn’t threaten you. In exchange, you offered her some advice on who to avoid in jail, which the woman gladly accepted.

At first, the change was barely noticeable. Jolyne kept herself quiet except for the occasional small talk in your cell or during a shared task. Instead, she chose to lounge around two other inmates you hardly knew, one with dark braids and the other with a weird-looking green cap. You were glad to see that at least she formed a group, being able to protect herself now better from potential harassers if needed.

Of course you were still exposed to them. You made your way to the shower as a woman with broad muscles approached you, face turned into a dark grimace. By her build and expression, you’d first assumed she was a guard until you’d noticed the familiar uniform.

“You there!”, she shouted at you, a finger pointing menacingly at you as she came closer, “Give me your money, now!”

You cowered back into the corner of the shower room, panic flooding your system. “I’m sorry,” you stuttered, “I don’t have anything on me, I can give it to you after-“

“Don’t fucking play with me, bitch”, she brutely interjected, nostrils flaring up angrily due to exhaling. Your aggressor stood now in front of you, a strong hand wrapping itself around your throat and threatening to cut off your airflow. She yanked you up in the air as she continued her assault. “You think you can pick and choose? Does this place look like fucking Disneyland to you? You better give me my money now if you don’t wanna end up choking water and being beaten up like the dirty street mutt you are.” You were already flinching when the prisoner raised her fist to punch your face as a voice suddenly interrupted you.

“I think that’s enough”, Jolyne said in a firm tone, a fierce expression marking her face.

“And who the hell are you? Wanna join your little friend here?”, your tormentor commented, unimpressed by your cellmate’s entrance.

“Big words for someone who’ll soon be nothing but a bloody pulp”, Jolyne answered, not faltering under the inmate’s glare.

Your harasser proceeded to laugh out loud at her words, obviously not taking her seriously. She dropped you unceremoniously as she shifted all her attention to your saviour instead. Desperately, you panted for air, your hands moving to your hurting throat. You remained in your corner as you observed the scene unfolding in front of you.

“As if you weakling could do anything against me,” your tantaliser spit out, still chuckling at Jolyne’s words, “I’d kill you with my pinky finger.”

Jolyne remained strangely calm, choosing to smile at the threat. “We’ll see about that”, was the only thing she uttered before she lunged at her with incredible speed.  Clearly, you weren’t the only one surprised as the inmate’s eyes widened as well. Jolyne turned the bully’s bewilderment into her advantage, her fist immediately connecting with the inmate’s nose. The latter let out a shrill scream, blood dripping out of her nostril. Clearly, she didn’t expect your roommate to do any real damage, let alone break her nose.

Jolyne shook the hand she punched her with, her knuckles reddened and slightly torn open from the assault. You kept staring at both of them, petrified and unsure about what to do now. 

“I’ll kill you for that, you bitch,” your aggressor barked out angrily, “and your little friend will pay, too.”

You started trembling at the thought of her hand around your neck again. 

“I’ll look for a guard, Jolyne”, you eventually said, the fear barely hidden in your voice. You decided this was enough and someone had to put an end to this. 

“Stay here”, your cellmate replied authoritatively. For the first time, you were actually scared of her. “I’ll teach this woman that she needs to face consequences for her actions.”

With these words, Jolyne placed her fingers on your tormentor’s right ear. You wondered what she’d do next when a sudden yell disrupted your thoughts. The inmate’s cry was far worse than the previous one, emitting all of her pain and agony. You could hardly listen to it. 

Then, with great horror, you finally noticed it. Her ear shell laid on the floor, blood coating the cut off organ. Your gaze travelled to Jolyne, waiting for an explanation to your unvoiced question, though she kept her eyes fixated on the prisoner’s pain-ridden face. 

“You won’t touch Y/N or me ever again, did I make myself clear?”, she asked, her voice coated with barely concealed anger. Your bully only gave out a whimper, but the answer seemed to satisfy Jolyne. “Good. Now, if you see any guards, you keep our names out of your mouth, unless you want to lose another body part.”

The following weeks, Jolyne had become overly protective. She clung to you like a lost child, afraid that you’d be hurt or threatened again without her presence. You didn’t know if you should be grateful or terrified for her protection. 

You’d asked her how she’d been able to cut that one prisoner’s ear off, but her explanation had been more confusing than enlightening. She’d talked about a Stand ability and how only so-called Stand users could see and wield it, but nothing made sense to you. You started to believe she’d just lost her mind. 

Jolyne had also introduced you to her friend group. Ermes and Foo Fighters seemed nice enough, though they behaved in the same weird manner as your cellmate did. You felt awkward in their presence, not knowing why you were even there in the first place. 

In the end, you decided to be thankful. With Jolyne and her friends by your side, no one bullied you anymore. And if your peace meant to spend some time with your cellmate, that was a small price to pay, right? 

~

You didn’t notice the pair of chartreuse eyes observing every bit of your sleeping form. You never did. 

Jolyne had been looking at you for many nights. This time, it wasn’t an exception. She tentatively brushed her hand over your cheek, marvelling at your slight reaction as you furrowed your brows at the touch. 

“You’re really cute Y/N, do you know that?”, she whispered to you. Of course you were unable to answer. 

Jolyne had been unusually shy around you. She was well aware of the fact that after her act of violence, you felt uncomfortable around her, possibly even scared. She tried so so hard to make you see that she was only protecting you! In fact, the young woman wondered how you could have even survived in Green Dolphin before her arrival. 

She had a hard time picturing your life without her in it. At first, she’d been furious and crushed at the revelation that her ex-boyfriend had purposefully framed her for a crime she hadn’t committed. She had loved Romeo, so naturally, her heart had been broken. 

But then, you entered her life. She saw now why she needed to be here. Who else could protect you, love you, like Jolyne? You were everything she had ever wanted. 

Lovingly, she placed a small kiss on your cheek. You stirred slightly from the feathery peck. Nevertheless, you continued your slumber. Jolyne wished she could touch you more deliberately, more intensely. She’d grown tired of this little hiding game. The prisoner didn’t want to secretly let your brush run through her hair anymore, imagining it were your fingers instead or coo at you when you were sleeping. No, she wanted to feel you, to be touched and loved by you. 

Sure, you might feel uncomfortable around her, but that was only because you didn’t see how much she cherished you. Maybe it was time to be bolder around you. 

~ 

“Hey Y/N, could you give me my toothbrush, please?”

“Sure”, you replied casually as you handed the desired object over to her. 

“Thanks, you truly are the sweetest.”

Your face heated up at her flirtatious tone. “She definitely didn’t mean it in that way”, you thought to calm your nerves. 

“You still don’t want to join me showering? I’d hate for you to get attacked again”, your cellmate asked you, concern swinging in her voice. 

“I’m good,” you mumbled, “I’ll just go next morning. And I doubt anyone’s gonna threaten me again after your lesson.” The thought of Jolyne mutilating another inmate terrified you, no matter how much your former aggressor deserved it. 

“Come on, you’re just afraid to see me naked,” Jolyne teased while giving you a toothy grin, “it’s alright, you can tell me. I don’t mind.” 

You didn’t think you could get more flustered. “That’s not it!”, you countered hastily, “I mean not that you're not a beautiful woman or anything, it’s just that…”

Jolyne stopped listening and straightened her back. You thought she was beautiful? Was this finally the moment she’d been waiting for? A dreamy expression marked her bright eyes. 

“You think we could be a thing?”, Jolyne interjected your rambling.

“What?!”, you stuttered, unsure if you heard her correctly. 

“I mean, I do really like you.” Suddenly, she stood up from her bed and moved over to you. You stared at her big-eyed, still not knowing what was going on. A hand came resting on your cheek as her gaze was locked on you. “Who am I kidding? I’m totally in love with you.” She softly traced her fingers over your skin, sending a chill down your spine. 

“Jolyne”, you whispered quietly. You had no clue how to handle the situation, images of her brutal side flashing up in your mind again. You gulped harshly. “I didn’t know you felt this way, I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends,” the young woman retorted, “we could just be more, you know?” Jolyne leaned into you, closing the space between you, as her lips landed on yours. She kissed you with gentleness and care, as if you were made of glass. When you felt her teeth slightly tugging at your bottom lip, begging for more, you eventually snapped out of your surprise and pushed her away from you. 

“What was that?”, you asked her out of breath, unable to conceal your anger. 

“I’ve kissed you, silly.”

“I’ve just told you that I’m not interested in a relationship!”

Ah yes. That must have been when Jolyne had blended you out in favour of marvelling at your compliment. 

“I think you should think about that again”, your cellmate replied, a dark edge manifesting in her voice. 

“And why is that? Do you want to cut my ear off too?”, you asked, your iritateness making you feel reckless. 

Jolyne huffed at your comment. She did that for you! 

“At least you could be grateful for what I did,” she spit out, “but no, I’d never hurt you. I can’t guarantee the same thing about the other inmates though.”

You immediately caught onto the threat. Your anger easily transformed into fear again as you realised what impact your words had on the woman in front of you. When Jolyne noticed you wouldn’t counter, she put her hand on your body again, this time deciding to let it travel up and down your arm. 

“If you keep saying mean things to me,” she said, her voice still sounding menacing despite her gentle hand movement, “I might just not talk to you anymore. Once the others see that we’re not hanging out anymore, they’ll just change their mind and choose you as their target again. And what do you do without my protection? You don’t want to be their punching bag again, do you, hm?” 

“No”, you managed to utter silently, eyes cast onto the floor. 

“Look sweetheart, I can make an exception for today. I’ll forget your behaviour and you reciprocate, right? Unless you want to go back to your initial position.”

“No!”, you answered a bit too fast, your eyes looking at her face again. You could only imagine what the inmate with the mutilated ear would do to you… “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Jolyne took hold of chin, ensuring that your eyes were still trained at her. Then, she kissed you again. Despite your feelings, you gave in, much to her pleasure. When she eventually removed her lips from yours, she shot you another love-struck gaze. 

You knew your life in Green Dolphin had been shitty before Jolyne, but now you only felt what it meant to be truly imprisoned. 

“I’m glad to hear that, honey,” the young woman said with a bedazzling smile on her face, “I’d suggest we finally take a shower, after all I can’t wait to see everything of my darling.” 

Her grin gained a sinister note. 

“And we’ll see how the night goes after that.”

[skellebonez]

Hey! This is my first time doing this ! But can you wirte a scenario where in Winter's cursed AU where MK's parents try to come back and get custody again?( With prompt 14 and 45) With protective monkey dads? Have a great rest of your day! 💕

Thank you so much, I hope you like this as your first fill! It was very enjoyable to write since I had this idea months ago but never had the chance to put it down. But you’re gonna get a little more than just protective monkey dads! This is set pretty far into @winterpower98 's AU so he has a lot of people behind him.

Am I scaring you?/You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child.

It didn’t take much guessing to figure out exactly what had made MK look like he wanted to run for the hills the second he picked up his phone. There were only a few very specific scenarios that could make him react like that now. But it was the way his face hardened and his whisper yelled into it that made Pigsy realize exactly who they were dealing with without the young man saying who it was.

Again.

“This is the third time you’ve gotten a new number for this,” he said, trying to keep his voice down. “I’ve told you already, the answer is no.”

"Tang," Pigsy whispered, nudging his favorite freeloader to get his attention better. "Go keep an eye outside. The last time they did this they showed up an hour later. If they do we're shuttering the shop early."

"On it," Tang said with a nod, standing with another nod to MK as he left.

"I am an adult, you cannot do anything to- yes I'm sure. Yes... yes, because I have a lawyer now mom!"

MK’s tone of voice made Pigsy smirk proudly. Had this been a few years ago MK would have had so much difficulty even just talking back to his parents, going quiet and shrinking into himself. Now?

He was standing up straight, speaking firmly and calmly, raising his voice a bit even. In the years Pigsy had known the young man he had changed drastically when it came to his parents. His and Tang’s attempts to raise his confidence and teach him to speak up for himself had certainly helped in that regard, but his attained abilities and strength as the Monkie Kid had no doubt given him a boost as well.

Not to mention the knowledge that not only did he have two father figures behind him... he had four (granted, Pigsy had mixed feelings for many reasons about both of them, but he’d warmed up to them when he saw how much MK had grown attached to them). Add Sandy, Mei, and Red Son to the mix?

He had a powerful group behind him to support him in whatever he needed.

"What do you mean you're already here?" MK said suddenly, drawing Pigsy's attention back from his inner thoughts.

"Whoa, hey, I said you can’t go in there!" Tang's voice suddenly rang through the entrance as someone pushed him backwards into the shop. He stumbled, almost falling flat on his rear and just barely catching himself on the counter. "You've been banned from this establishment and you know i-"

"MK," the woman who entered said as she closed her flip phone shut with a snap.

A man entered behind her, matching her in simple modern fashion. He shared MK's hair while the woman shared his eyes. It was obvious who they were to anyone seeing the three of them together.

Tang turned, shooting Pigsy a quick sorry that was met with an easy smile and a nod before the chef scowled at the two of them.

"... mom, dad," MK replied, slipping his phone into his pocket. He stood at his full height, back straight and no sign of hesitation on his face. "I told you, I'm not coming home."

"And we told you that we realized we made a mistake," his mother said, voice soft but with a softly uncertain undertone to it. Like she didn't quote believe her own words but was convincing herself otherwise. "Please, let us make it right."

"You had plenty of time to make it right all the times I tried to contact you before I became the Monkie Kid," MK said easily, practiced and firm. "Besides, I'm an adult now. You can't force me to do anything I don't want to do."

"You may technically be an adult," MK's mother said with a sigh, reaching out to grab his shoulder. "But you’re still my child."

Pigsy jumped in front of her, a sharp glare his only weapon. He knew better than to threaten these two, much like some of his more rowdy customers, but he would still put himself bodily between the young man he viewed as a son and anyone making him uncomfortable when he had the ability to do so.

"If you so much as breathe on my kid-"

"But he's not your kid now is he, pig man," MK's father sniped back, venom dripping from ever word and making the entire restaurant freeze in response.

"Excuse me," a new voice called out from behind them, a figure pressing a firm hand on his shoulder. "What were you saying to my brother?"

The reaction was instantaneous. MK’s father jumping to the side with a yelp, turning to come face to face with a less than pleasantly smiling Sun Wukong and a scowling Macaque behind him, neither bothering to keep up any semblance of a human disguise at the moment.

"I believe my student made it clear to you multiple times that he is an adult who can make his own decisions about who he wants to live with," he said coldly, moving to stand beside Pigsy with his fur raised and teeth barred in a way that could be mistaken for a smile. It certainly wasn't one if you knew anything about monkeys, though.

"Scram," Macaque chimed in, voice lower and far more threatening than anyone else in the building as he took a step forward. Though his words were fewer his tone was stronger and held just as much weight.

MK's parents took a step back in turn, stepping back into the entryway itself.

"Y-you may be his mentor," MK's mother started, her tone losing the odd uncertainty under it and gaining a frustration and confusion instead. "But I'm his mother."

"Who left him to his own devices and didn't even try to show interest in reconnecting until he made something of himself," Macaque snapped, snapping his teeth together in a warning bite as he took another step forward with a growl.

His parents stumbled back out of the shop, eyes wide and watching as MK was surrounded on either side by 4 others. Pigsy and Tang on his right, Wukong and Macaque on his left.

"Am I scaring you?" Macaque asked with a chuckle, letting out a noise of surprise when Wukong's tail touched his arm.

"I think he's got this now," Wukong said with a soft smile.

"Mom, dad," MK said with his voice still firm and sure. "I'm not coming back home with you. I'm an adult and you can't force me to come back. And if you keep trying like this I'll never give you the chance to let me chose to on my own."

The duo looked at their son, his father's eyes wide in shock and disbelief and his mother's eyes much the same with an undercurrent of... something. Something none of them could really place.

"I think we s-"

“You are not good people!" MK's dad snapped, standing up to his full height to tower over everyone else. "I caution you against this! This is your last chance to accept the damage you’ve caused! And if MK does not go back with us I will have no choice but to take further action! I will be contacting my lawyer to open a lawsuit against you and further more this will ruin your life with insurmountable debt!”

He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest in his assured victory as everyone else stared at him in shock and disbelief. Including his wife, who looked even more incredulous than any of them.

"D-debt?" MK eventually managed to get out, an unbelieving smile forming on his face. Before he started to laugh and march forward. "Debt? DEBT!? FUCK your debt! We'll take our chances DAD, Monkey King has a treasure trove and the best lawyer in all of China so take your debt and STUFF IT!" He raised both middle fingers toward his parents before jumping up to grab the handle of the shutter door and slam is shut before either of his parents could rush back in.

"INSURMOUNTABLE DEBT!" He yelled one last time, almost manically before sitting at a nearby table and covering his face with his hands as he burst into laughter. "I-I just- you can't threaten the Monkey King of all people with financial problems how am I related to this man!?"

The two pairs of parental figures looked at each other before laughing themselves, finding it difficult not to follow in MK's lead given how ridiculously that tense situation ended.

"You handled that pretty damn well, MK," Wukong said with proud smile as he ruffled his student’s hair.

"It's a lot easier when I know I have a bunch of dads and pops to back me up," he replied with a smile.

[krreader]

BTS reacting to a sasaeng trying to touch/take photos of your baby bump.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: mentions of physical assault genre: angst ; fluff word count: 2.5k+

a/n: I hope the reality would be the boys yeeting these sasaengs into another universe, seriously. but for the sake of the story, here. thanks for the request @sakuroseuchiha​, and I’m very sorry it took forever ♥

kim seokjin

“What is this?” Jin entered the bedroom and practically pushed the phone in your face, his breathing heavy and his cheeks flushed, clearly upset.

You looked at what he was showing you, but then quickly averted your gaze and continued folding the laundry as if what he was showing you didn’t matter.

“(Y/N)!” he rarely got angry, not like this. And you knew that he wasn't angry with you.. maybe only for not telling him about what had happened today. He grabbed your upper arm and turned you so that you had to look at him, “Why didn't you tell me about this?”

“I didn't want you to get angry.. like now,” you sighed deeply, “I wasn't hurt, I walked into the nearest store and they didn't follow me inside because the shop owners were kind enough to help me and keep them out. All they got was a blurry photo.”

Your husband's mouth dropped, his eyebrows furrowing, “How can you be so nonchalant about this?”

You snorted, “What do you want me to do, Seokjin? Do you want me to sob my eyes out because some sixteen year old girls wanted to become Twitter famous by posting our unborn child on their Twitter account? If I were that weak, then marrying you wouldn't have been a good idea in the first place,” you pushed his hand away, “I'm fine.”

Maybe, but he wasn't. He was so tired of this bullshit.

And you only found out just how tired he was when you wanted to go grocery shopping the next day and were face-to-face with a man that introduced himself as your new bodyguard that your husband had hired to make sure that situations like those wouldn't happen anymore.

You had meant what you had said, you were fine, but knowing that someone that size was following you around and making sure that no harm would come to you and – even more importantly – to your unborn child – made you feel a lot more at ease.

min yoongi

Yoongi cursed and thanked BigHit at the same time for existing.

On one hand, he hated himself for ever having signed up with them, because now you and his unborn child were in danger because of him, but at the same time, he was so grateful that they tried their best in protecting the three of you to the best of their abilities.

One of the staff members had managed to gain access to a secret forum used only by sasaengs, where they shared private information about idols that nobody but these idols, their families and the company should know about.

And during this 'undercover work', she discovered a thread dedicated to you and Yoongi, or more specifically, your unborn child.

She found out that they had found out where you had planned to have your delivery and wanted to be there to take pictures of the two – or in the end – three of you.

You and Yoongi would have had no idea about this. You would have had no other choice but to endure it and later see these very private photos online, but thanks to her, you were able to switch hospitals last minute and were able to handle this matter privately.

That female staff member said she was merely doing her job when you and Yoongi thanked her later, but your husband made sure that she didn't just get a raise, but a promotion on top of it.

You both owed her a lot.

jung hoseok

“Look, daddy!” Hoseok beamed happily as he watched his son point upwards to the head of the giraffe, “Soooooo biggy!”

“If you want to be that big, you need to eat all the vegetables that mommy puts on your plate from now on, okay?” he tickled the little boy a little, engulfed by his beautiful laughter, that he didn't realize what was happening behind him.

You were standing a few feet behind them, wanting them to enjoy a father-son moment, while also watching the buggy. However, unlike your husband, you weren't smiling. Your eyes were focused on three girls to your right who had been following you for the past fifteen minutes and were now debating on whether or not to go up to your husband and say something.

And you really didn't mind if they said hello when it was only Hoseok, but your child was with you and you didn't want to involve him in that life. Not yet, not if you could avoid it.

However, you had been wrong all along. You thought that they were whispering among themselves to figure out a strategy on when to go up to Hoseok. 

But that wasn't the case.

They were waiting until they were sure that he was busy enough with your son not to notice what they were doing.

Which was pull out their phones, all three of them, and then point the camera at you.

Even though you knew it wasn't actually you, but the baby bump that had begun to form. A story that had only been rumors up until now, but you were too far along now to hide it any longer.

The moment you realized what was happening, you pushed the buggy forward until you were at your husband's side and said: “We need to go. Right now.”

With how alert you were, he instantly became too, started looking around and realized what was happening.

He put his son in the baggy, then took off his jacket and placed it over your shoulders, before he pushed the baggy with one hand and you gently forward with his hand on your lower back.

So much for keeping the secret about baby number two a little longer.

kim namjoon

Namjoon had been an idol for long enough to know when someone was obviously staring at him out in public.

And you had been with him for long enough to know when he was uncomfortable. He constantly shifted in his seat, glanced around and nervously bounced his leg up and down.

Eventually you reached over the table and put your hand over this, “Come on. Let's ask them if they can fill our drinks in take-away cups and go home.”

You had wanted to enjoy the possible last peaceful coffee shop date that you could have before your daughter would be born, but when married to Kim Namjoon, a peaceful date outside was almost never an option. And normally, when it had been only him and you, he hadn't minded as much. But now he was scared for his child.

And as soon as the two of you got up, his biggest fear became reality, when a girl walked by and spilled her – thankfully – cold coffee on you. More specifically, on your baby bump. Accidentally, as she tried to make you two believe, but you knew better.

Even more so when she started bowing, apologized and then immediately wanted to rub over your baby bump with tissues to clean your clothes.

Namjoon was alert in an instant, but you were faster and grabbed the wrist of the girl, smiling at her, but your eyes were so dangerous that the girl gulped down.

“Thank you, but I'll do that myself.”

“I..- I only..-”

“I said I can do it myself,” you grabbed your bag and then Namjoon's hand, “Let's just go home.”

Sometimes he forgot just how much of a mother you already were before your baby was even born. 

Nobody like that was allowed to touch your baby, not now and not ever.

park jimin

Jimin had been so naive to think that the pregnancy would be a peaceful one for you. He had let his guard down after month seven, after nothing bad or weird having happened.

And that was a huge mistake.

You were due in a few weeks and he wanted you two to have one final romantic night out before the baby would be born, meaning dinner in the restaurant of your choice, then going for a walk at the Han River, then going home and.. well..

But your night was cut short when you couldn't even make it to the restaurant. As soon as Jimin had parked the car and helped you out, a swarm of fans, which were sasaengs through and through, because they were the only ones who could have found out where you'd be eating tonight, came running to you.

He realized it in time, managed to push you back into the car before their grabby hands could touch your baby bump and managed to push all of them back enough to shut the car door.

Their attention shifted from you to him and they all started to touch him and pull on his clothes. He tried to push them away from him so that he could go around the car and get in himself, but there were simply too many.

All the while, you were sitting in the car, desperately banging on the window and begging them to stop, trying to open the door to help your husband, but he was blocking it from getting opened.

There was no way he’d let you back out there.

You reached into your purse and wanted to call the police, but since you were in an underground parking lot, your phone didn't have any service.

At that point, you were sobbing your eyes out because of how scared you were for Jimin, but then someone from the building, maybe guests of one of the restaurants or people that worked there, saw what was happening and helped Jimin pull the girls away from him, one after the other. 

They told him to get in the car and he did so without hesitation, reversing and then driving away without looking back, eternally grateful for these kind strangers.

“It's okay,” he tried to calm you down while driving away.

But it wasn't okay. Not when he had scratches on his face and hands, not when he was close to tears himself.. not when you realized all that stress caused you to suddenly go into labor. 

kim taehyung

This day had started out so well.

The weather was so perfect that Taehyung and you had spontaneously decided to go on a little road trip.

With you having passed the worst of your pregnancy phase and being able to actually walk and eat without throwing up every hour, it was now the perfect opportunity to just drive around and find a really cute spot to hang out, maybe have a picnic or coffee/tea.

But you should have guessed that it wasn't as easy as that, because Taehyung's super hardcore fans had never been ones to just leave him alone.

You had been driving for a while and you had become thirsty, so the two of you had searched for a very cute café and found one that was so aesthetically pleasing that you forgot about your surroundings for a second and just.. enjoyed it. Like every other normal human being would.

Your husband had gone inside to grab the drinks, so he wasn't there to stop what was happening.

“What the hell?!” you instantly pushed the chair back when you saw a hand reach down to your belly to touch it, then jumped up, “What do you think you're doing?!”

Unfortunately, there weren't too many people around to help you, only an elderly man and a young couple that, by the looks of it, hadn't even graduated high school. They wouldn’t be much help.

“Please, we just want to touch it. This is from Taehyung, directly from him, we just..-”

“I'm going to give you a fair warning,” your husband pushed himself between you and the girls, pointing his finger at one of the girls chest, “You come this close to my wife or child again, I will call the police and I'll make sure that your future is ruined. Do you understand?”

“But..-”

“No. No but. There is a line and you just crossed it. So this is my final warning. Leave now, or I'll call the police.”

The two girls glanced to the side to find the shop owner already standing there with her phone, ready to call the police if Taehyung said so.

You doubted that people like that had much planned for their future, but the threat of police and a possible lawsuit involving thousands, if not millions, if Taehyung had his way, scared them enough for them to scurry away.

You only allowed yourself to breathe again when they were out of sight, your husband immediately cupping your face and checking to see if you were harmed.

“I'm fine,” you shook your head a little, “I'm fine.”

“Shit,” he pulled you against him and kissed the top of your head, “I'm so sorry, (Y/N). I'll be more careful from now on.”

jeon jeongguk

This had been a massive scandal from the get-go. Not only were you and Jeongguk not married when rumors started to form that you were pregnant, but he was also 'way too young' to have a kid now and 'not in the right place in life yet' to be a father.

BigHit had kept quiet through it all, knowing that those weren't just rumors that people spewed, but the truth.

You were indeed pregnant. An accidental pregnancy that had shocked you and your boyfriend to the core, but after countless of nights crying and worrying, you've not just accepted it, but were looking forward to your baby.

The first few months were easy, a comeback had overshadowed the rumors and whenever they were doing interviews, BigHit made sure to tell the journalist not to ask any personal questions, or they'd be kicked out of the panels – they really had no mercy in that sense.

But there came a point where you just couldn't hide it anymore, unless you were to stay at home every single day till the day of the delivery.

And well, you didn’t.

You waited until Jeongguk was gone to leave, knowing that it'd be easier if it were just you, had taken precautions and worn a hat and a face mask... but these sasaengs, man.

You couldn't take fifteen footsteps until you heard screaming from a distance and a group of seven people charging at you with their phones up in the air, ready to take photos of your baby bump and expose it to the world.

Since you were still close to the entrance of your neighborhood, the security guard reacted perfectly, grabbed you by your upper arms and pulled you back in, closing the gate to Hannam Hill just in time and turned you around so that the girls wouldn't see your baby bump properly.

They were left standing and screaming at the fence, reaching through it like crazy zombies.

Rather scary, actually.

“You need to be careful, Ms. (Y/L/N),” the security guard warned as he walked you back to your apartment, “You can't just go out like this without precautions.”

“I just wanted to buy something for the baby,” you said sadly with slumped shoulders, “They have this limited Disney collection at Spao.. I just wanted to get something for my daughter.”

He let out a heavy sigh and watched you enter the building extremely upset.

Maybe it wasn’t his place, but when Jeongguk came home that night, he told him about the incident, wanting to make sure that he’d talk to you and make you understand that you couldn’t just go out like that without some sort of security.

And well, let’s just say Jeongguk’s father side really jumped out that night. He had you sit down on the couch and lectured you for nearly an hour without you saying a word.

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

26 for the prompts? perhaps w the cat n mouse lads :3 (also look danny i did it i sent a prompt are u proud)

I...actually don't remember what the prompt was for this one, but I'm 87% sure it was "I'm not that scary, am I?"

So fine since y'all keep asking for 'em, here's more of the cat and mouse bois. Shoutout to @gabbydafurry and an anon for finally giving them names.

--

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“I’ll make pollo asado for dinner, we can eat it together while we watch!”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his hands against his forehead, trying to ease the dull throb that had yet to wane over the past two days. His headache certainly wasn’t being helped by the constant badgering of his...roommate, for a lack of better words (as well as being a title so eagerly self bestowed by the cat in question) but much like many of their other interactions, his resolve was starting to wear thin. Usually, he was able to hold his ground for at least a week until he was bribed into giving the other some type of social interaction with the promise of his favorite foods. Today, however, the poor mouse just wanted a moment’s peace free from knocking on the walls or calling through the cracks until he answered, and if that meant watching some stupid movie then fine.

Plus, Lucas did know how to make some incredible Mexican food.

“...fine,” Aaron conceded after a pause, the pressure behind his eyes giving him a sharp pang before fading to its usual ache, almost like his own body was projecting how horrible of an idea this was.

As soon as the mouse slipped out from behind the curio, he came face to face with the massive grin of the cat mere inches away from the opening. Seeing the grin only split wider when he was fully in view of the other normally would have instinctively sent a shiver up his spine, it was kind of difficult to be intimidated seeing how Lucas had strangely contorted his body to lay on the floor between the curio and the bookcase. Most cats seemed to be fairly flexible, so it probably wasn’t too uncomfortable for him to be so bent and curled up, but he definitely lost some of that hunter’s prowess with his back twisted sideways and one leg leaning against the shelving.

In a flash, Lucas had managed to untangle his strange positioning to instead be crouched on his knees, now looming over Aaron in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He flinched back when his hand started to reach out towards him, fully intending to scoop him up to dizzying heights without a second thought, but the appendage stopped just short of touching him at all. Instead, he dropped his hand palm side up and waited, smiling all the while. At least he was getting better at remembering Aaron’s explicit request to not be grabbed without permission, though he did always apologize with a sheepish look and some little treat whenever he forgot.

Once Aaron climbed onto the awaiting hand that radiated a delightfully intense warmth into his already aching muscles, Lucas was already jumping up a chattering a mile a minute about how much the mouse was going to love the movie he picked out, how dinner would be ready soon, how he wasn’t expecting him to actually agree to watch a scary movie with him since he never seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing but--

“It’s a scary movie?” Aaron interrupted, the noise finally registering beyond the headache. Truthfully, he tuned a lot of what the other said out for almost every conversation, not that it ever seemed to make a difference. Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, he admitted once, but it’s less weird talking to someone who doesn’t respond than to talk to yourself, right?

Debatable.

Lucas tilted his head and snorted. “Uh, yeah? That was one of the first things I told you about. You know that one actress who’s in almost every one of those Christmas movies we watch, who’s always the jealous best friend?” Aaron has no idea who he was referring to given that he never absorbed anything from those stupid romance movies he was boarderline forced to watch, but nodded anyways, “Right, this is supposed to be her big break out role, or something. It’s the first thing she’s doing as a lead actress, and you know, good for her! I’m glad she’s getting out of that typecast she’s been in forever. Horror probably wouldn’t be my first choice for her, but I guess since she has those singing vocals it could carry over to being a scream queen. Kind of like when--”

And Aaron was out of the conversation again.

Lucas continued to drone on about the actress’s entire film career, or at least that’s what the mouse was assuming he was doing when he occasionally zoned back in to pick up a stray word here and there. The headache he had been staving off to the best of his ability was starting to come back with twice as much force as it often did in the later days. He probably could have just asked the other for some aspirin, maybe even some cold medicine as that was no doubt what this bout of illness was turning into, but asking the cat for anything was always out of the question. Of course, Lucas tried to sway him numerous times into thinking it most certainly was not and that he could always ask for whatever he needed, never to his avail. Aaron was indeed willing to prolong his suffering if it meant not having to stomach the dreadful embarrassment that would come to being indebted to the feline, no matter how insignificant.

Unfortunately, he was only setting himself up for failure in thinking this “agreement” would be providing him any sort of relief. His headache was treading dangerously close into becoming a full fledged migraine and the flashes of light and screams from the television would not be doing him any favors. His only saving grace was that, after he had been settled on the couch and Lucas scampered off to get the dinner he promised, the cat turned off every other light possible to, as he put it, really get them in the spooky mood!

The smell of the food was delicious and nauseating. His stomach both wanted and revolted at the idea of anything filling it, which would only serve to worsen his headache no doubt. Damn it all, he wanted to throttle both himself and this illness, the first for agreeing to watch this stupid movie when he was already feeling under the weather, the second for preventing him from getting his half of the deal. These movie-dinner dates deals were the only reason Aaron continued to stick around, even if he thought the torment of being forced to watch awful romcoms in exchange for a hot, homemade meal was a little unfair. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Lucas was a freaking culinary genius as far as the mouse was aware. It was a wonder why he wasn’t majoring in a cooking field.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Aaron lied when Lucas had asked why he wasn’t eating. “I’ll try some later.”

The cat looked at him strangely before shrugging. “Alright, just let me know. If you don’t like it, I can always make you something else.” There he goes again, offering things he knows the other can’t accept. At least he could let it slide this time as he had no appetite to think of any other dish.

Lucas finished his own meal in silence, completely fixed on the television as the opening scene carried on, introducing the canine main character that Aaron did, in fact, vaguely recognize. This was fine, he figured, the dark apartment coupled with a painfully slow movie, a warm body moving to curl up behind him as it so often did during these deals, he could probably get a few moments of real rest in before the credits rolled. As much as he loathed to admit it, the cat was actually rather...comfortable to be forcefully cuddled by. He wasn’t like other movie goers that needed to make a comment on every character’s decision, steady breathing and the occasional purr helping the mouse slowly relax.

That relaxation was cut short as soon as the romcom actress tore her tiny avian neighbor to shreds by the end of the first act.

Aaron had hardly been paying attention to the storyline up until this point, something to do with the girl being bitten and experiencing insatiable hunger lately. The sudden carnage of the otherwise trusting little prey creature made both of them flinch in surprise, though Lucas was quick to laugh it off. From then on the mouse’s unwavering attention was glued to the screen, but not by his choice. A chill ran through him each time she claimed another unsuspecting victim, always a prey animal, and ripped them apart with her teeth and nails like a starving animal. The way the tiny’s incredibly realistic viscera was slurped into her bloody mouth made him queasy, all too easily imagining himself in their shoes.

Eventually, her hunger became too strong and she began attacking fellow predator species as well. Ripping into throats and soft bellies was far messier than snacking on a tiny creature in three bites, making her feast all the more gory. While the violence still unsettled him, it was a touch more bearable now that he couldn’t picture his own body being mangled between the teeth of a predator he thought he could trust. Speaking of…

The mouse gulped and risked a glance behind him at the other who had hardly moved, save for a few jolts and snickers whenever a particularly good jump scare managed to startle him. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time Aaron had physically reacted to a sudden screech or attack, the cat would curl just a little bit tighter around him, hiding a laugh behind a rumbling purr. He wanted to believe this was meant to be an act of comfort and not something equally as nefarious as the canine plotting her next kill. Regardless, Lucas was equally transfixed on the movie, except he seemed to be enjoying every minute of the horror aspect. His tail would flick in interest during the high tension scenes, even more so when a chase sequence was underway. It made sense, considering that was his favorite game to make Aaron play.

Whatever the case may be, the mouse couldn’t help but be unnerved tenfold that the other had the audacity to enjoy a fictional movie he was interested in seeing. The last thing the mouse wanted was for Lucas to get any more ideas when it came to chasing him around the apartment, much less awaken any sort of primitive instinct to maim his prize after it had been captured. To this day, it remains a deep seated fear in the back of his mind that every time the cat cupped his hands over him, his teeth would be quick to follow. Natural instincts were hard to shake for a reason when it came to prey animals such as himself, he could only hope the same wasn’t true for predators.

His imagination was running rampant, enough so that he completely missed how the movie ended. Something about a cure, something about being put down, whatever. The only thing on his mind was the morbidly hilarious thought that if Lucas were to go feral like the canine, would he eat him raw or would he cook him up in another fantastic dish?

Aaron jumped when Lucas moved to sit up behind him, only now registering the credits scrolling across the screen. He stretched a bit, the quickly fading warmth that had been surrounding the mouse making him realize just how tight the other must have been snuggled around him. How did he not notice?

“Wow,” Lucas said, pursing his lips. “That...was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my life.”

That wasn’t the reaction Aaron had been expecting him to have, but it was certainly better than to hear him go on about how it was a brilliant masterpiece. He got up to flick the lights back on, still laughing as he recounted each poorly written scene and cheesy effects. “I mean, oh my god, right? The mail man saved everyone? Seriously? I actually feel bad for making you watch that, you totally have dibs on the next movie night.”

He turned around to look at the mouse who was still huddled tight on the couch, wide eyes glued to the screen even if it was just names moving along with ominous background music. Lucas gave him another quizzical look, smirking.

“C’mon, even you have to admit those tinies had zero survival instincts. Like, who goes up to a rabid dog and asks for directions? I get suspending my disbelief and all, but they could have made it just a pinch realistic. This is so going to tank her acting career…” The cat shook his head and moved closer to the couch so that he stood right in front of the television, finally drawing the other’s attention to himself. “Hey, you hungry now?”

Oh, absolutely fucking not. An hour and a half of being tensed up gave no relief to his aching muscles and now that the lights were back on, so was his pounding headache. His stomach rolled, the nausea a mix of dizziness and disgust from the special effects. He didn’t even want to think about food, he didn’t want to be out in the open anymore, and he most certainly did not want to spend another minute in the cat’s company right now.

“S-sure…” Aaron finally squeaked out. He just needed Lucas out of the room, distracted somewhere so he could make a break for it. In some instances, he would have just darted off whether the cat saw him or not, but that always resulted in a game of chase that had a 50/50 success rate, the other loving it anyways. All he wanted was some peace and quiet to rest up and heal and not think about how easy it would be for the other to bite off his head whenever he felt like it.

Lucas stood there for a minute, studying him, and just when Aaron genuinely feared he was going to pounce, he flashed an innocent smile. “Cool, just give me a couple minutes to get it heated up.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Aaron decided to be bold and waste a few precious seconds of his head start to collect himself. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous. Lucas had been nothing but kind to him. Aloof, but still kind all the same. But as a prey animal that spent the better part of his life living in walls and stealing to survive, trust was a risk he simply couldn’t take. There was hardly any benefit to keeping up this con if the end goal was simply to eat him. For all he knew, though, Lucas was nothing more than a merciless sociopath that was willing to milk every ounce of fear he could before chowing down. A sociopath obsessed with romantic comedies and wore an apron when he cooked and had begged Aaron for two months straight to tell him when his birthday was so that he could make him a miniature cake.

...okay, so maybe Lucas wasn’t a sociopath, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Evolution gave him sharpened fangs and agile reflexes for a reason and the mouse was not about to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of those one day.

With his head as clear as it was going to be for the time being, sans the dull throb behind his eyes, the mouse finally pushed himself up to make his way over to the couch arm. Slowly, as to not overwork his stiff joints, he climbed his way down to the floor and skittered under the couch for a little extra protection. Strangely, he noticed that he didn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen just up ahead and when he stopped by the doorway, he couldn’t see anyone either. Losing track of the massive cat should not be possible, especially considering this was a one bedroom apartment and there was literally nowhere else for the feline to go without coming back through the entryway. Aaron should have taken it as a blessing, but of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

He proceeded to be daring and come out from under the couch completely to peek into the kitchen, confirming it was empty. Again, that shouldn’t even be possible for Lucas to slip out without having to directly pass the living room to go somewhere else. Unless he had, which would mean Aaron missed him somehow. He had been in quite a deep thought process on the couch...but he could have sworn he was only collecting himself for a minute!

The answer became glaringly obvious when the mouse took a few hesitant steps back and turned to retreat under the safety of the couch, only to come face to face with Lucas. He damn near jumped out of his skin, slamming his back against the wall in an effort to gain another inch of distance between himself and the face taking up his entire view. Really, this was nothing too out of the ordinary for the cat, he loved to sneak up and pounce whenever the opportunity presented itself and Aaron wasn’t too obviously close to heart failure. What made his heart stutter, however, was the fact that Lucas didn’t look like...well, Lucas. There was no smile, no warm eyes, no words being talked a mile a minute about nothing.

No, there was just a frowning cat with his ears pinned back and pupils slit, stalking closer with a terrifying rumble in his throat.

Instinct overtook him as soon as he saw the other’s lip twitch, trying to dart under the couch for safety and having his path immediately blocked by a hand being slammed down, claw out. Aaron couldn’t even yelp, the bile in his throat threatening to turn into vomit if he idled around too long. So, he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and scampered in the opposite direction with the cat hot on his trail. He very nearly dodged a swipe, Lucas hissing that his blow didn’t land while Aaron only tried to speed up his sprinting. They circled maybe half of the living room, the mouse weaving under furniture while the cat knocked into them in an effort to jarr his prey into taking a misstep.

It worked, unfortunately, when Aaron took a sharp turn at the bookshelf and caused Lucas to clip it with his shoulder. The small bump did nothing to deter the cat on his hunt, but the two books that came tumbling down were enough to make the smaller skid and trip to avoid being squashed under the novels. He ended up twisting his ankle awkwardly, stumbling flat on his face while the momentum of his running made him roll twice until he landed on his back. Despite being winded and the additional pain in his leg, he knew there was no time to waste, trying to pull himself. It was too late, though. The cat was already on top of him, hand coming down to pin him under his palm while only his head poked free from between his fingers.

That cold, terrifying face came nearer, eyes tunnel visioned on its prize. Oh God, Aaron would give anything to have the other Lucas back right now. He’d watch a thousand sappy movies, do a date night for every meal, actually move into his bedroom like the cat had suggested he do a dozen times. He wanted...fuck, he wanted his friend back. What he thought was his friend, anyways. Not this killer, not this predator who was baring his teeth and was now mere inches away from biting off his face and--

The growling above him broke off into a snort shortly before turning into a full blown laugh. Aaron wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes in preparation for his certain death, but when he dared to open them and blinked away the budding tears, he saw that smile he had been wishing for again. Kind and warm, just like eyes, and it was like Lucas had never even taken the form of a starving hunter in his life. Like he hadn’t been moments away from devouring his beloved roommate.

“Oh, come on,” he howled with laughter, “You can’t be serious! That movie actually scared you? I mean, I thought you looked a little freaked out by it, but wow!”

The movie...so this...this wasn’t real. Lucas was just pretending, just playing a prank on him. He thought that the movie had simply wound him up and made him jumpier than usual, no different than watching a zombie flick and popping out from behind a bush at your friend later on.

Except it was different. It was different in the fact that zombies aren't real, but predators are. Predators didn’t need an excuse to go feral and maim and consume their tiny cohabitants, they simply could by the laws of nature. And yes, it may be illegal and have several laws in place to protect prey species, but if no body was ever left behind, who could say if foul play was involved? That was the whole plot point in the otherwise dull movie they sat through together, the reason why the woman was able to avoid suspicion of her sickness by feeding on tinies that could only be reported missing at most.

Lucas’s laughter had tapered off, still clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, note to self, no more horror movies.” Finally, he released Aaron from under his hand to sit back on his haunches. “Man, I really didn’t think you would scare that easily, especially from a B-movie like that. Anyways, are you actually ready to eat now? I put your stuff in the oven so it would reheat better, but it should be done by now….Ronnie?”

Aaron hadn’t moved an inch since he was originally pinned, not even after the hand had been lifted off of him. He just stared up blankly at the cat, trembling and wide eyed, unable to do anything as the rapid succession of events sunk in. The cat’s humor died down a little, smile hesitating.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist, you know?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even notice when I came back so I thought...I don’t know, it was funnier in my head. I almost broke character and started laughing before you ran!” With still no verbal response, Lucas reached out a hand. “Aaron? You good? Come on, I’m not that scary, am I?”

The reaction he got probably wasn’t what he was hoping for with Aaron suddenly scrambling to push himself away from the outstretched hand that might trap and tear apart his limbs. He gave a sharp squeak, managing to find his footing only to come crashing down as soon as he took the first step, his ankle noticeably swollen by this point. His cry of pain was muffled into a desperate grunt, trying so hard to drag himself away as a last ditch effort to avoid the same fate as the bird and the squirrel and the mole in the movie.

Lucas gasped. “Oh, Ronnie, your leg!” Both hands were reaching for the mouse now, aiming to cup around him and scoop him up before they surely put him out of his misery. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t...oh my God, I hurt you.”

Yes and no. In truth, Aaron had been the one to hurt himself by making his body move in ways it physically shouldn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that Lucas had shown his true colors. Perhaps in hindsight, that wasn’t a fair assessment, as he really did think he was playing a harmless little joke on a skittish friend. The pain came from knowing that the cat could turn feral, though, no matter how genuine he was being. There was still clearly an instinct within him, one that knew how to hunt and bare his teeth and hiss, one that knew deep down where they both ranked on the food chain. It hurt in knowing everything he thought about his friend, everything that kept him from really letting down his walls like the other so desperately wanted, was right. Cats and mice were not friends.

“Get away from me!” Aaron shrieked when the hands came too close. Though they withdrew quickly, he didn’t bother to watch if they would move again as he forced himself up to stumble back to his nook behind the bookshelf.

“Aaron, wait!” It was a fruitless request and Lucas knew it as he didn’t even try to stop the mouse from disappearing behind the furniture back into the walls. It would only make matters so much worse. “Aaron, please, you’re hurt, just...at least let me help you. Please. I...I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I promise!”

The cat shuffled closer, leaning down in hopes that the other could at least hear his pleas better, could hear how sincere he was trying to be. “I would never hurt you, Aaron. You’re one of my best friends. Look, it was a stupid prank and I’m an asshole and I’ll never do it again, just please come out. Just let me know if you’re alright?”

It didn’t matter how hard or for how long he tried, Aaron was long gone within the walls.

[astaroth1357]

The Demon Brothers (Minus Asmo) at Their Worst  Pt. 1 (Lucifer, Mammon, Levi)

To the anons who gave me this idea, here it is. Unfortunately, I can’t say I’m all that happy to bring it to you, cause yikes this hurt to write. I’m grateful, however, because I believe I’m better for it. You shouldn’t always stay in your comfort zone. I left out Asmodeus for personal reasons. Regardless of my ability, given the nature of this challenge, I don’t feel comfortable with writing nor posting graphic content of sexual violence and chose to refrain from doing so. Please do not ask for this to be written at a later date, I will politely refuse then as I am now.

Check out the Masterlist for more.

Warnings: THEIR SINS HAVE BEEN TAKEN TO AN EXTREME (AND ALL THAT IMPLIES), Abusive/Controlling Relationships, Violence, Threat of Human Trafficking, Drowning, Angst, Regret, Suicidal Thoughts

This is all for the purposes of fantasy and in no way an endorsement for these behaviors in real life. Be nice (and smart) with your lives, my friends.

Intro: Maybe the MC should have known better. It should have sunk in a long time ago that they were in incredibly risky territory... They should have remembered that these men, though they call them friends, family, and perhaps even lovers, are still demons at their heart and core. Each of them are the embodiment of some of the worst behaviors man has to offer... MC, there are some people you just shouldn’t date, even if they love you, and now you suffer the consequences...

Lucifer

It’s not difficult to see how Pride can go awry. Self-confidence and dignity are wonderful things, but let them build up unchecked and all manner of petty, vindictive behavior can surface from within a person... 

Lucifer is far from immune to these flare ups. In fact, he falls victim to them so often that they may as well be ingrained in his personality. If you do anything that mocks or belittles him, even if it’s small, you’ll get a reaction. One that’s usually more severe than offense calls for...

The MC knew this going into a relationship with him. Supposedly, they knew all the no-go zones, too. Don’t make fun of him or Diavolo, don’t mention the Fall or his back, don’t call him a nag... That sort of thing.

What they hadn’t expected was the full brunt of the expectations suddenly leveled on them.

To say Lucifer was demanding would be an understatement. Everything about him had to be poised, powerful, collected, and perfect. Whether he realized it or not, these expectations bled into their relationship as well.

It started with him nitpicking little details... The way they stood, how they styled their hair, maybe a comment or two on what they ate. But it progressively got worse...

Suddenly he found problems with the way they dressed, what they listened to, what shows they watched, even how they greeted him in the mornings!

Before too long, nothing was right to him… Nothing was good enough. They were his other half, his biggest vulnerability, and in order for him to feel secure about that they had to be perfect… However Lucifer defined it.

They listened to him at first. Though his comments stung, he could be so loving too… He truly made them feel special. Like he wouldn’t be trying so hard if it were anyone but them...

But pretty words and kind actions could only go so far. They couldn’t completely erase the vitriol being tossed at them day after day… 

Slowly, with every little change, they could feel themselves start to dwindle… The choices they made felt foreign, the lifestyle they held became draining, and then one day they realized they didn’t even look right anymore… They were no longer the person they wanted to be. 

Lucifer was doing what he set out to do: train them, break them, then mold them into something new... So they could be perfect...

Just like him.

One day, however, they just couldn’t take being the person he wanted anymore...

He found them in their bedroom just before a party that Diavolo had been planning for weeks. Their hair wasn’t fixed and their clothes were a mess. His frustration nearly skyrocketed until he saw their face, vacant and broken, staring blankly straight ahead…

He couldn’t rouse them. They wouldn’t move no matter how much he shouted, threatened, or swore...

….they didn’t even budge when he begged…

His brothers eventually noticed something amiss and took them away. Their disgust with him was fairly evident… They probably would have tried something had he not been the strongest.

He had taken something wonderful and squashed it... Hurt someone he truly loved and ruined what they could have had to protect his damn ego…

Lilith, his brothers, and Satan especially… was everyone he tried to care for just bound to end up broken too…?

The MC’s recovery was slow. They had a lot of damage to repair and a whole new identity to build. He stayed out of it as much as he could, burying himself in work and seeing his brothers less and less...

He’d done enough damage to them anyway...

Mammon

The Greedy, Scummy Second-Born… Words to etch on his tombstone. Mammon had heard it all before from all angles: the demons above him, below him, hell even a passersby on the street would know his face and his laundry list of a rap sheet...

The one person who seemed to look past all that was MC.

He truly didn’t know what sort of karma he’d gained or luck he scored to have them in his life. They didn’t just see him at his best side, they made him want to fix his worst...

But that’s easier said than done, isn’t it?

The sad truth is Mammon is a gambler at heart. Oh he loves the money, the riches, fine things, and the bling but what else does he enjoy? The rush.

There’s nothing like that feeling of triumphant when the dice falls your way or the pure exhilaration of a close bet. When all cards are on the table and everything’s stacked against you, eking out that win can cause a head-rush better than any orgasm he’s ever had... The higher the stakes? The better the high.

But maybe he went a little too far…

It’s one thing to bet Grimm, he can make more of that in a night. It’s another to bet items, harder to replace but not impossible. People…? Well. If you want high stakes…

MC was actually with him that night when he made the “great” decision to bet his most valuable treasure on poker match. He was running out of Grimm and thought that the added risk would make him play better…

He thought wrong.

MC hadn’t been at the table at the time he made the deal, but they had come back just in time to see him get his ass handed to him. He lost. Spectacularly.

When the other demons there came over to encircle MC, it already felt like his world was crumbling down around him... The look of confusion, then hurt and betrayal in their eyes forever seared themselves into his memory.

“You bet me in a poker game?!”

It sounds almost comical, but he knew what the demons were planning to do to them wasn't. And just seeing the way his human’s wrist snapped when one of the men wrenched their arm from them confirmed it.

He wouldn’t let them get away with that. When the threats escalated to violence, he took his share of punches but in the end he was left standing.

The MC was furious. He had just whittled their entire existence down to a bargaining chip and one that he tossed away carelessly…

Yeah, he’s truly a scumbag, isn’t he?

They didn’t talk to him for quite a while, despite him begging for forgiveness. There was always a part of him that wondered why he even bothered… He had done it before, and in another gambling-induced high he would probably do it again…

They’d honestly be better off without him...

Leviathan

It’s, frankly, quite difficult to be the Avatar of Envy. Every day Levi feels uncomfortable in his own skin… Like he doesn’t measure up to this or that or like he’s not worthy of being in the meager position afforded to him. He preferred to hide himself away and try not to dwell on it… but then MC came along…

For once, he felt like he had something. Something truly special. Something one of a kind and like no other… He couldn’t point to any of his brothers and say that they had something better, hell, he couldn’t even point to Diavolo and say that he had a finer version.

No. He had them. The one, the only, MC. Better than all the rest. His only great accomplishment in his miserable, pathetic life...

… so why did they keep leaving him…?

It didn’t hurt that badly at first when they’d tell him they couldn’t go watch some new anime with him because they had other plans. Sometimes they’d go off shopping with Mammon or have lunch with Beel… That was fine. Understandable.

At least that’s what he’d tell himself.

After a while though, he started to feel lonely… rejected… Was he not good enough for them? Surely that had to be it, right?? A miserable shut-in otaku with someone like them? What a joke!

Any time he’d voice his insecurities, they’d always say the same things: “No, don’t be silly!” “I really do want to be with you.” “I love you, Levi. Don’t you believe me?”

No. He didn’t. With each passing hour spent away from him, time where he would get shafted for one of his brothers instead, he believed them less and less…

Soon all he heard was lies…

Something possessed him that day. MC had just missed their third live stream in a row in order to be with his brothers instead. Which one was it? It didn’t really matter. He felt the stinging pain of isolation all the same…

When the MC walked into his room they had no way of knowing that the festering hatred and inadequacy that had been stewing in him for months was about to spill over. His anger was so quick to spark and their human body too weak to resist...

It was only once he realized how long he had their head forced under the water of his aquarium that he finally let them up for air.

He was stepping over himself to apologize, stammering incoherently through his tears how he just lost control and didn’t know what came over him!

His brothers weren’t forgiving. Not in the slightest. Each of them seemed to want to beat him within an inch of his life and he didn’t blame them… If he could get away with it, he’d march himself into the sea and let it serve as his rightful prison…

His punishments were severe, but not unending, and soon he was back in his room again. Now he never leaves it and the MC is never allowed back in, even if they want to be.

He now, truly, doesn’t deserve them at all...

Link to Part Two: Satan, Beel, Belphie

[earnestly-endlessly]

Hey! I hope I'm not bothering you, I just found your blog and I love it sm, and I saw you sometimes do cherik fic recs. Do you have any Canon divergence aus/fix it, preferably after Cuba, that are 30k or longer and have a happy ending? If not thats okay! You don't have to answer this. Have a wonderful day!

Hi anon, thank you so much. I’m happy you both like my blog and my recs. You are certainly not bothering me, and feel free to send me an ask any time. I have plenty of recommendations for you. Some of them diverge a bit from your request because I couldn’t help but recommend them as well. I will put a note on those who diverge from your request. As always, I only recommend fics I have personally read and enjoyed and I sincerely you love them too.

-Canon divergence aus/fix it, post Cuba, 30k or longer, with a happy ending cherik fic recs-

Not Half As Blinding- keire_ke

Summary: Cuban beach AU. Charles discovers that death does, in fact, solve everything.

Lay down beside me (so still and so soft) – C-Gracewood

Summary: A different take on the events of the film.

Rumor Has It – blueink3

Summary: "Did I hear the doorbell earlier?"

"Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof."

Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.

Forward Momentum – AsYouWish

Summary: Six months after Cuba, Charles and Erik find themselves thrown fifty years into the future, where they meet their older selves, the Avengers, and a world that's very different from their own. Faced with the pieces of their broken relationship, an unparalleled adversary, and dealing with Tony Stark on a daily basis, Charles and Erik do their best to adapt while trying to find a way back home -- and to each other.

When an Unstoppable Force Meets an Immovable Optimist – ToriTC198

Summary: "You are always trying to save me, Charles." Erik mused aloud. "Ever since you dove into the ocean and dragged me out. Did it ever occur to you that I might not be worth saving?"

A genuine smile broke out on Charles' face as he brightly answered, "No, my friend, not once. I have every confidence you are well worth saving. But, I never truly believed I could save you. You are not the sort of man who someone saves. The choice to be a better man has always been yours to make and I hold no illusions that I can make that decision for you. I simply have faith that one day you will save yourself. I only hope I am still at your side to witness it."

What if Erik and Charles had been able to find a middle ground in the end?

Take the First Option – ShowMeAHero

Summary: When Erik becomes unbalanced, Emma presents him with three options: go back to Charles for three months and learn to deal with whatever he has going have going on, lose his Brotherhood, or let Emma control his mind.

He really only has one choice.

Virtue to Which We Aspire – varlovian

Summary: Nine months after Cuba, Charles is found by Erik's Brotherhood in the smoldering ruins of an abandoned CIA base, exhausted but alive. As the only known survivor of the CIA's vendetta against mutants, recovering Charles' memory of the incident—which he admits to having forgotten—just became paramount.

But the harder they push, the closer Charles gets to breaking point. When he finally cracks, the X-Men and the Brotherhood will learn the truth, but it comes with a price...

Some doors, once opened, cannot be closed.

Some minds, once broken, will never be the same again.

The Waking of the Red King – rustingroses

Summary: When Charles' heavy injuries on the Cuban beach conspire to leave him in a coma and living in fantasy of his own making, Erik, the man who once threatened to divide the mutant cause, finds himself desperately trying to hold everything together. First of the Red King trilogy.

Wake Up and Smell the Pancakes –  Ayra Sei Ethari

Summary: In one universe, Erik left Charles. In another, he stayed. So what happens when the two Eriks get switched? "At first, Erik thinks he's dreaming. Then he realizes that this is Charles. Who is not paralyzed. And kissing him.

Rage and Serenity – MagickMaker, TheFangedGoblin

Summary: After Charles is shot on the beach, he is rushed to the hospital and paralysis is prevented. Ridden with guilt, Erik finds that he cannot leave him. He helps him heal, and eventually, Charles learns to trust him again. But when they set out to rescue Emma from the CIA and accept her onto their team, tensions rise. Will love keep Erik and Charles together despite their differences?

No Yesterdays on the Road – pocky_slash

Summary: It's been two months since Cuba and things are settling down for Charles, Erik, and the beginnings of their mutant school. Right up until Charles disappears, that is. Faced with the possibility that a bitter Emma Frost has kidnapped Charles, Erik is forced to team up with Moira to hunt down the remainder of the Hellfire Club. From there, they hope to locate Frost and retrieve Charles, without killing each other along the way.

(Or: Erik and Moira Drive Across the Country and Talk About Their Feelings.)

What Can We Do Without You? – SwoopSwoop

Summary: Charles and the boys were holding onto a secret more dear to them than their own lives when Charles disappears into the night; Erik is betrayed and finds himself returning to Westchester in the hopes that the government was just trying to trick him. All the while the boys are stuck in the middle, left guarding the secret from the man they are most afraid of finding out who is weaselling his way back into their lives alarmingly easily.

Note: Includes Mpreg, but don’t let that discourage you from reading it because it’s a really great fix-it.

Survival Instinct – Lindstorm

Summary: It’s been months since Charles pulled Erik out of the ocean, and Erik is beginning to wonder how many more times he can choose Charles, and still keep his vow to kill Shaw. Cooperating with the CIA is straining Erik’s patience. When a fact-gathering mission goes wrong and Charles is kidnapped, Erik is left trying to hold their mutant band together while Raven and the rest of them fall apart. No one can foresee how the mutant Charles meets in captivity will challenge all his assumptions about his own power, and twist Charles’ telepathy out of his control. In the race to stop Shaw's nuclear ambitions from coming to fruition, Charles makes a crucial misstep. Erik’s decision between Shaw and Charles takes on unexpected ramifications when [spoiler deleted].

Needles (Series) – Skull_Bearer

Summary: AU where everyone's born Dominant or Submissive

Once a Dominant and Submissive pair is born, they are linked to each other, no matter how far apart they are. This link doesn't actually tell the Dom or the Sub each other's thoughts, but it does allow them to know how the other's doing and serves as a reassurance that there's someone meant for them out there.

Another one of the reasons that Erik hates Shaw so badly is because Shaw managed to break Erik's link to his Sub. Now Erik doesn't even know if his Sub's alive because breaking a link like that can kill a Submissive.

Meanwhile, Charles hates himself for not yet having telepathy strong enough to contact and help his Dom, especially after feeling the pain his Dom was forced to go through. He truly believes that his Dominant is dead. Hopes it, some nights when he remembers how his Dom was forced to suffer. It's better than to think of his Dom still being forced to bear that pain.

And then Charles pulls Erik from the water

Time to Grow – zarah5

Summary: In which you'll find chess dates which aren't dates (or maybe Charles is wrong about that). -- Based on First Class, this turns (slightly) AU during the beach scene.

Note: This fic is less than 30k words but it’s such a fandom classic and just a great read if you love your fix-its.

Faults for Fixing – beren

Summary: Charles sees the events of the missile crisis and subsequent weeks when he uses Cerebro to touch the mind of a mutant with the power to see the near future. When he wakes up he is determined that he will not allow them to happen and he will not lose the people he loves.

Note: A bit less than 30k words long but another great read.

It’s like one of us woke up – kaydeefalls

Summary: "You came here for me," Charles said, meeting Shaw's gaze levelly. "So let's not waste any more time."

Canon!AU in which Charles and Erik do find Shaw in Russia.

Note: XMFC fix it, but the events in Cuba don’t happen. 

Afterlife – Anna (arctic_grey)

Summary: A year after Washington, Erik wakes up in excruciating pain as sudden awareness washes over him: Charles is dead. Erik has to adjust to yet another future: no extinction, just a world without Charles. But the death of his former friend leaves Erik weak and his powers drained. His quest for answers leads him back to Westchester, where Erik has to face his past with Charles and put together the puzzle pieces of what happened to the man he once cared for.

The Burdens We Long to Carry – arcapelago (arcanewinter)

Summary: When mutant-supporter and ally President Kennedy is assassinated and all pro-mutant progress is dismantled, Charles is no longer so confident that he's on the right side, and extends his hand to Erik after a year of animosity. They settle tentatively into their old partnership, but not everything is the same as it was--and not everything can be. When Hank develops a metal frame to move the lower half of Charles' body for him if he wants it, Erik offers the use of his mind and his ability in order to make it work. Both find out what they're willing to do for each other, and neither knows if it'll be enough to keep them together.

Other Futures Than These – midrashic

Summary: In which Cuba doesn't break them apart, but that doesn't mean that their futures are tied together. (Except that it does.)

A Days of Future Past AU where only one person can defeat the Sentinels and save the future: the man whose imprisonment and torture created them, and Charles Xavier's ex.

The Winter of Banked Fires – Yahtzee

Summary: Charles Xavier has returned from the dead -- but is lost within his own mind. Rogue has cast aside her own power and doesn't know where she fits in the world any longer. The production of synthetic Cure means mutantkind itself is newly at risk. And Magneto, turned human against his will, is in despair until the day he feels a familiar consciousness tugging at his own --

Set after X-3 (with much desperate fix-it applied), during XMFC, and every time in between.

[bored-mumma]

Text Message Part Two - Chris Evans x Reader

MASTERLIST

PART ONE

TITLE: Text message CHAPTER NO/ONE SHOT: Chapter 2 WORD COUNT: 2104 (I got carried away) ORIGINAL IMAGINE: This by @theartofimagining13​ NOTES/WARNINGS: Swearing. Arguments. Gaslighting and toxic behavior. This is the final chapter for sure. Also I wrote this so quickly it just kind of flowered I bloody loved it. Maybe some proof-reading errors. 

Small patches of light crept in through your window, barely being blocked by the blinds. Birds sang their songs from outside, trees swayed gently in the breeze. Everything indicted a calm, warm morning. Except that was far from how things were for you.

Last night, you told your boyfriend, Chris, to not bother coming home if he's going to continue to accuse you and ask to check through your phone. And he didn’t come home. You stayed awake for a long time after getting home. By the time you calmed down, had a bubble bath and watched some TV, it was three in the morning and still no sign of Chris. With a sad sigh, you turned off the telly, rolled over and attempted some sleep.

Now it was nearly nine in the morning. You awoke with groggy eyes, feeling extremely deflated and your cheeks dry from the tears you shed last night. You weren't used to waking up in a cold bed alone. Usually, Chris would awake first. He would roll over, wrap his arms around your waist and gently wake you with his warmth and kisses to your cheek. It was a wake-up call you always adored, no matter what time it would be. But today just felt cold and lonely.

Sitting up, you reached to grab your phone from your bedside table, your stomach turning as you remember more of the argument from the night before. Half of you hoped you would see some messages from Chris, maybe some missed calls. Something to tell you he was sorry and saw the error of his ways. But as you scrolled through all your notifications, you realised there was nothing from him. You debated whether or not to be the bigger person, to text him first and apologise but your stubborn side came out to play before you could - you technically didn't have anything to apologise for! He was the overly jealous one. He was the one who ruined nearly every date you had with his accusations. He was the one who wanted to breach your privacy. You were nothing less than a faithful girlfriend who fell in love with a man with a lot of emotional baggage.

That morning dragged like crazy. You took a shower to try and clear your mind, even ordered in your favourite breakfast from the diner down the street. But your mind always wandered back to Chris. You realised you weren't even sure where he stayed! Was he safe? Just as panic was starting to flow through you, your phone pinged.

Can we talk?

Chris had text you first. Part of you was so happy he did. Maybe that meant he realised he was the one in the wrong and therefore he was the one who had to make the first move to make it right! The other part of you hated the vague words of the message. Can we talk? Does that mean Chris wants to make things better or... No, no it must mean he wants to make everything better. You two were an amazing couple, fully infatuated with each other. It just Chris' insecurity got in the way sometimes. You felt for him and the heartbreak he must have felt when he discovered his ex-fiancée was having an affair with his best friend and you understood how that would affect his ability to trust. But this was getting too much for you to handle. He was right. You guys needed to have a nice long, good talk.

You text him back asking what time he could come home and he replied saying he can be there in twenty minutes. You pottered around as you waited. Made some tea for you both, quickly did some tidying, basically did what you could to try and not overthink what you will say to Chris. However, before you knew it, you heard a key in the door and Chris stepping inside. You walked over to see him and the two of you stared at each other for a moment.

"Hi." He said at last.

"Hello." You replied. The air felt awkward and thick. You hated it. "Take a seat, I made you some tea." You scurried out into the kitchen as Chris made himself comfortable. You took your time grabbing the tea, your heart was beating like crazy from nerves. You didn't know what you wanted to say. All you knew, was you desperately wanted things to change. You were so unhappy and that wasn't fair for you! You came back into the living room with the tea to see Chris sitting on the armchair, still wearing his coat and shoes indicating he doesn't plan on staying for very long.

"Thank you," He said, taking his mug. "Look, we need to talk about what happened last night." He sounded quiet, his voice hoarse. As you listened, you noticed the bags under his eyes and how his clothes, the ones he was wearing last night, were all dishevelled, like he slept in them. "This is not how I want my relationship to go," He continued. "I love you. I just... I struggle to trust you. Which is my problem! I know that! And I'll work on that. But you have to meet me in the middle here."

"Meet you in the middle?" You asked, shaking your head slightly with confusion. Chris took a deep breath before he explained.

"I feel like it's unfair you wouldn't let me have your phone last night." He said it like it was so obvious. It took all your strength not to interrupt him, telling him to stop talking before he starts pissing you off. "I mean, I let you use mine all the time. You know I have trust issues, I was just asking for a little help to deal with that."

"I shouldn't have to give up my privacy to help you with your issues." You said, a little more harshly than you intended. "How about couples therapy? Get through this without breaking any boundaries." You tried to reason but it became clear that was not a good route to take. Chris stood and started to pace around the chairs.

"Why do you need privacy from me? I'm your boyfriend! We don't need to waste our time at therapy. All I'm asking is for one simple thing. You can look through mine and I'll look through yours." He stood in front of you now, his frame towered over yours which was still sat on the chair. "You wonder why I get so jealous or - or possessive and then go pull some bullshit like last night!"

"I didn't pull any bullshit!" You said, standing up to meet Chris' harsh gaze. "I asked you to sort your shit out. What about this screams like a good relationship to you Chris? The yelling, the accusations, the constant checking up on me!"

"I don't check up on you." He looked at you like you were mad.

"You call me about fifty thousand times a day, Chris. Which I wouldn't mind so much if you didn't get neurotic every time I accidentally missed a call or took too long to answer a message." You felt tears start to sting your eyes as you finally allowed all your frustrations out, voice getting louder with each word. Usually, you would just try and help Chris in any way you could but no more. No more would you roll over and let him have his way. "You're controlling and jealous all the god-damn time Chris and I can't cope with it anymore!"

The two of you stood still, staring at each other. Both knowing what was coming, neither wanting to be the one to do it. Eventually, you took the jump.

"I don't..." You swallowed, trying hard to not let too much emotion out. You knew if you did, you would break down crying. "I don't think this is working anymore, Chris." You looked away, not bearing to watch the tears that were starting to drop from his eyes. He stepped closer to you so that your bodies were touching. You could smell his cologne, feel his warmth. My God you loved him. "I think our time together is done." You felt his hand under your chin, two fingers holding it and tilting your head so you looked up at him. Using his other hand, he brushed some hair from your face. You felt the familiar tingle on your skin where he touched you. Even after all this time together, he still made you giddy. You stared at him in the eyes as he held you.

"Who is he?" He whispered.

Your head span when he asked. What? What the hell? Who's who? You realised what he meant. Even now, he thinks there's someone else. Even when his possessiveness has pushed you so far to the edge you had no choice but to jump. He still believed your heart belonged to another. You realised right then, nothing will ever make him believe you. You could stand here and rip your chest open, bleeding out as you gave him your heart and he would still tell you it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. His trauma was too much for you to handle anymore and it was finally time to start putting yourself first again.

"I know you probably won't believe me Chris, but I need you to listen to me." You took his face in your hands, making sure to make strong eye contact as you spoke. "I love you. No one else, ok? Never anyone else. I was faithful. I was strong. I loved you more than I thought I ever could." The tears started to fall from both your eyes at a much quicker pace. "None of the incredible things that have happened to me in the past few years would have happened to me without you. I owe you for that. But I owe myself to be happy too." You used your thumb to wipe away some of the tears from his cheeks. "I love you. So much. But we need to end. I can't do this anymore." Chris took your hands in his. He pressed his lips against them both as a way to muffle his cries. "I'm so sorry." You sobbed. "I'm sorry Chris. I wish I was strong enough to keep going but I'm not. I love you."

Chris dropped your hands and grabbed your face, bringing it towards him as he hurriedly captured your lips in a breath-taking kiss. He held you close to him, your kiss becoming salty as your tears mixed on your tongues. He tasted of his usual toothpaste along with some of the tea he barely touched. His hair felt soft as you ran one of your hands through it, using the other to grab his coat and pull him closer. When the need for air became too much, you pulled away, chest rising and falling as you both tried to catch your breath. You stared at him, debating whether this was the right choice. You loved him so much your heart hurt. But what came next... you knew you made the right decision.

"Does he kiss you like that?"

Your mouth dropped at those words. Nothing would ever change. You walked away from him, picking up his keys from the table and handing them over to him.

"I'm at work tomorrow, I'll make sure your stuff is packed and ready for you to collect whilst I'm out." You muttered. You had cried too much all ready for a relationship that died months ago. You refused to cry anymore. Chris took the keys from your grip and stared at you. His jaw twitched. Clearly words were trying to escape from his lips but he wouldn't let them. You had never seen Chris like this. You couldn't tell what he was feeling. But that was no longer your problem.

"I hope he breaks your heart like you did mine," Chris said at last. When you didn't reply, Chris let out a dry laugh before walking out of your home. For the very last time.

You finally allowed yourself raw emotions. You collapsed onto your sofa, hands scrunched over your face as you bellowed, cries echoing off the walls. You could feel your heart breaking in two as you realised he would never hold you again. That you would never wake up to his hugs, that would never taste his lips on yours again. But it was for the best. You deserved someone who would trust you and that someone, sadly, would not be Chris Evans. No matter how much you loved him, he was not the man you were destined to be with.

A/N: Oh I’m sorry you wanted a happy ending? We don’t do that here.

[siriushxney]

⊱┊ easily !

pairing — sapnap x gn!reader

wordcount — 2k

warnings — angsty, arguing (happy ending)

song — easily | bruno major

note ! — this is my second time reposting, because tumblr hates my guts and decides to make things repeat/disappear so :|

nothing was easy about love. then again, if love didn’t have it’s bumps and bruises — could it truly be considered love? the act of loving someone is something that is both a blessing and a curse wrapped into one. you see their best, and you see their worst — you deal with, and take all the blows that they take.

and in with love — arguments flare.

some over stupid things, like who would do the dishes, if the other did the laundry, what you were having for diner — but some were harsher. words that neither meant, thrown at the other without care or thought behind them, and actions that despite being little, spoke thousands.

when love begins to bring stress from the arguments, it brings along doubt, anger, and fear. the nagging feeling at the back of your mind that is constantly telling you that you don’t mean anything to them, that you can be easily replaced, that quitting is a valid choice — distance makes an appearance between the two of you.

but when one pulled away, the other reached and pulled them back. it was what love was.

—

sapnap and you had always been an honest couple. sharing everything and anything, never scared to speak your mind, and not afraid of confrontation. but with the both of you being strong willed and blunt, things could get tangled and rough in a matter of seconds — and as of lately, things were rough more than they were enjoyable. fights happened daily, food was consumed in silence, and you had gone to sleep in the guest bedroom. the distance that was now between the two of you was easily notable — even his viewers had noticed something in him had shifted.

with your laptop sat one your lap, you typed away — the assignment that was due in merely a week adding to the already present stress. everything had seemed to be going wrong lately — the topic you were given to research happened to be one of the topics that you had not been quite able to grasp, you had somehow lost your favourite pair of shoes, and everything with sapnap.

you love him, that wasn't something you questioned — but the thoughts of if it was worth it with the direction that the two of you were heading in, plagued your mind. did you want to put yourself through the pain that would come eventually? or did you want to protect yourself from it to the best of your ability?

the words you typed appeared on the screen quickly, but just as fast as they appeared, you were quick to erase them. everything you had typed didn’t quite come out the way you wanted them to — but no matter how much you deleted and retyped them, nothing else came to mind. it almost reminded you of sapnap and your relationship.

after every fight, an apology would be said, but nothing would change. within the next twenty-four hours or less, another one - just like the previous - would take place. you were backspacing, and then rewriting the same thing, over, and over again.

with a frustrated sigh, you closed the laptop and pushed it aside to where your books laid. your hand came up to harshly rub at your sore and tired eyes, wishing that a calm and restful sleep would overcome you. but that was simply a figment of hope that your brain came up with. you had too much to do, to be resting.

the thump of your feet hitting the ground, the loud cracks and pops from stiff joints, and a small grunt filled the room. after sitting in one position for hours, you'd expect your body to be stiff.

“stupid professor, and his stupid assignments,” you huffed as you exited your room, turning your head quitioningly towards sapnap’s recording room, waiting and listening for any sign of him streaming. with no sudden shouts, curses, or screams, you assumed he wasn't — that meant either two things, one, he was in your shared room, or he was downstairs. you hoped it was the previous.

tiptoeing down the stairs, you attempted not to make a noise in the case that he was on the main floor, not wanting to face him after your most recent fight. but the universe seemed to be working against you, as you saw his frame laying on the couch with a movie playing quietly on the tv.

despite being as quiet as you possibly could have been, he had noticed your entrance — his head tilted in your direction before turning his attention back to the movie with a now present frown.

he’s such a child.

then again you were no better.

this game of he said, they said was annoying to you — but in this situation, you felt as if you were correct, just like how he felt like he was correct. neither of you would admit that the other was just as right as you were, both desperate to take a win over the other.

grabbing your keys from the counter top, you started for the front door — your shoes easily being slipped on before you grabbed for the door handle.

“where are you going?” no movie could be heard playing anymore, making it easy to hear sapnap’s voice — something that had been spoken with an emotion that you refused to believe was there — worry.

“I’m just going to the convenience store.”

a small thump, followed by quick footsteps towards your directions caused an unwanted smile to appear on your face. but as quick as it appeared, it was wiped off. sapnap came around the corner, grabbing his shoes and not bothering to put them on — simply holding them in his hands as he gave you a shooing movement.

“c’mon. I’ll come with,” sapnap pushed passed you, through the front door, and towards your car in a haste.

“... okay then.” you closed the door behind you as you stepped out, making sure to lock it before heading to the drivers side — sapnap already sat comfortably inside with his knees and head facing his window.

he was still going to be stubborn, huh?

—

the drive was silent — not that you expected anything else. the music wasn’t even playing loudly — merely soft background noise to keep the both of you from going more insane then you already were. the drive itself should’ve been only six minutes top, had turned into ten — every light being red rather than the preferable green.

your car lurched forward as you angrily slammed your foot on the brake at yet another red light — sapnap and you being abruptly launched forward before coming back and hitting the seat.

“jesus, calm down would you?”

“don’t even start with me,” you didn’t have to look at him to see the way his eyes furrowed and frown deepened.

“what the hell is your problem lately-”

“what the hell is my problem?! you — you're my problem lately, sapnap!” you whipped your head over to him, watching the immediate look of hurt cross his face before it contorted into one anger.

“you know I’m trying here — I thought that us going out somewhere we usually go to would help us, but apparently I was wrong!” sapnap through his hands up in rage. “you make everything so difficult! why can’t you for once in your life, just stop arguing with everything I say and do?!”

the red light still shone brightly — no sign of it changing. and with no cars other than your own on the road at this time of night, there was nothing other than the deep breathing, and the quiet music playing from your radio. neither of you said a word — both of you still trying to wrap your head around not only the others, but your own words.

words that you never meant to, or should’ve said.

you turned your head away from him, trying to hide the way your eyes gleamed with fresh tears — but when they tried to make their way down your face, you brought your palms up to your eyes and pushed. the pressure of your palms helped keep not only the tears, but your anger in.

“Y/N i’m-”

“please can we just not?”

the apology was on the tip of his tongue.

“what are we doing?”

sapnap could feel his mouth run dry, and his chest tighten.

“what?”

“I mean… what are we doing?” your words came out strained and low, the effects of yelling and being yelled at hitting you full force. “this- us — what are we doing here?”

he didn’t know how to respond — the answer for your question had never crossed his mind. to him, despite the arguing and yelling, him and you would never end — it was the two of you till the end. but with you questioning everything right in front of him, he couldn’t help but panic.

“I’m- we’re-” he tried to put words together, but nothing made sense. he wrote and rewrote a script in his head, pleading for something to make sense, or at least help him bring you out of the hole of doubt and questioning you’ve dug yourself into.

nothing comes easily — not skill, not life, not love. you had to work for everything you have, and you will fall, and get scraped, and fail — but things could always be improved, as long as you fought for it.

“we’re doing something that is right — we’re right,” his words were not enough to make you look at him, but he saw your head lift slightly. “we’re not easy — we’re messy, and mean, and for some reason, stupidly stubborn… but that doesn’t mean that we aren't right — arent perfect in our own way,” your head turned more towards him. “we’re not easy, and to be honest, we never will be. that’s just us. and right now, we're in a rocky part — but just because it won’t come easily, doesn't mean that the road we’re on won’t even out once again. you need to trust me, just like I need to trust you.”

a green light shone down onto the two of you, telling you to go — but just like before, no cars were around. it was just him and you.

“I love you Y/N — and don’t you ever forget or doubt that. I’m an asshole sometimes, but I’d never lie to you about that.”

you wished that the seatbelt that held you stills against your seat could vanish so you could tackle him with a hug — but your place on the road, and the now approaching car from behind stopped you from doing so. pushing lightly on the gas, you went through the green light, and pulled into the convenience store that you had been on your way to.

sapnap watched as you pulled yourself from the car quickly, the sense of ache and worry taking over his body as he pulled himself out of the car after you. “look, I’m sorry-” a body crashed into his own, nerely knocking him to the ground — harsh, shaking shoulders and wetness was felt against his chest.

“I’m so sorry — for everything,” you didn’t try to hide your sobs — with the heat of everything going on, you knew it was better to let everything out then to bottle it up. “and I love you so much, you don't even know — everything sucks without you by my side.”

he couldn't stop the tears that filled his own eyes — finally able to hold you again despite the circumstances and what it took to get here. burying his face into the side of your neck, he let his tears fall — the both of you standing, swaying slightly as you let everything go.

you don’t know how long you stayed in the position, but you didn’t care to keep track — your only focus being the boy pressed against you, holding you tightly to his chest, as he whispered soft words of love and apologies.

it wouldn’t come easily, but the least you could do was try.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 10

Summary: Haunted by her own mind, Y/N isn’t sure what to do with the information she uncovered. On the other hand, the Darkling felt a growing distance between them, allowing himself to admit something he never thought he’d say.

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff, sexual innuendos 

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six // Part seven // Part eight // Part nine   

=================================

A long time ago lived a young boy with the power of saints. He held the darkness at the tip of his fingers, capable of forcing the day into an eternal night. Back then, he made all the wrong choices for all the right reasons. To protect the ones he loves, he allowed the shadows to consume him. Cursed with immortality, he walked the earth ever since. Forever alone, hurt and betrayed, the Darkling's heart no longer beat as it turned to stone. No longer did he suffer, no longer did he feel pain or anything at all.

Until now.

There was no escape from emotions when he looked at her. Even in the darkness, she had the ability to set his world on fire.

A single badly made decision in a moment where everything feels more important than love can make your entire life feel like a failure. He would never make the same mistake again. 

This lifetime he gives to her – wholeheartedly.

When they stopped for the night, he had felt uneasy as Y/N conversed freely with everyone but him. It seemed like she’s on edge and not knowing why gnawed at him. Once night came and they settled in their tent, the Darkling couldn’t contain himself.

"I sense some...hostility."

Scoffing, she rolled her eyes, "Oh, how observant of you."

"What happened?” He asked, “Did someone at the Palace do something to you? Was it Genya?"

"And what if she did?” Tilting her head ever so slightly, she neared him. “What would you do?"

Without thinking, he answered, "I'd protect you."

Inhaling sharply, she raised an eyebrow. "And what if it was you?"

Pausing, his eyebrows furrowed as he unclenched his jaw. "Is it me?"

"If it was you who upset me, would that bother you?" Y/N pushed further, genuinely wondering if he cares for her as much as she thinks. After all, who’d believe the Darkling has a heart? She was still trying to convince herself it’s real when he kisses her temple when he thinks she’s fast asleep.

"Immensely."

With her hands on her hips, she narrowed her eyes at him. "So, how would you protect me from yourself?"

Letting out a heavy sigh, Aleksander ran his hand through his hair. "I'd let you decide."

Closing her eyes in frustration, her lower lip curled inwards as her front teeth sunk into the flesh. A part of her wanted to ask him about being the creator of the fold, but it was an advantage that would be unwise to let go of. 

"Why are you being so agreeable? Is it because I spread my legs for you now?"

"I've never known you to be so crude." The muscles in his jaw tighten as he squints at her and it’s taking everything in her not to smile because she absolutely loved when he’d look at her like that. It felt more natural than the soft, wistful looks he’d send her way.

"And I never realized you could be so easily tamed”, she remarks, her voice louder than before.

Chuckling in disbelief, the Darkling shrugs off his kefta without breaking eye contact. "You believe that you've tamed me?"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she shut her eyes. Her face is flushed, her head spinning and she has nothing concrete to tell him. She can’t make sense of anything anymore, the image of him in her head changing with every passing minute.

"I don't know what to believe anymore."

In two strides, Aleksander found himself before her. Cupping her cheeks, he tilts her head up to face him and when she opens her eyes, she’s lost in the universe that’s captured in his eyes. She loved the night sky littered with stars, but she never truly knew what it means to stargaze until she met him.

“I’ve discovered I love you.”

Raising her eyebrows, her jaw slacked. “When have you discovered that?” Her voice is high, tone defensive, but his smile grows because it wouldn’t be her if she didn’t fight him even when he’s trying to admit to something he long forgot exists.

“When all my decisions started to revolve around keeping you safe.”

Shaking, her eyes widened. “That’s impossible! You hate me!”

Placing a hand over her mouth, he used his other to press his index finger to his lips. “Shh”, he chuckles, “You’ll wake the others.”

Rolling her eyes, she licked his hand.

“Really? I’ve touched you in a way that made you scream long into the night”, he deadpans, “Your tongue can’t possibly disgust me.” Smirking, he leans in, “On the contrary.”

Slapping his hand away, she turned away from him. Grabbing her head, she sat down with her thoughts running so fast, too fast for her to pick one out to decide what she thinks, feels, wants.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her back flush against his chest. “I know you hate me now, but I’m a patient man. I won’t give up on you.”

He held her for a while, too long for either of them to realize the night had slowly trickled away from them and given way to dawn. Their journey wasn’t quite as long anymore. Soon enough, they’ll be at the fold and Y/N didn’t know what to do.

Should she tell him? Ask him for an explanation?

Would he kill her even if he said he loves her?

She still felt his kisses as he laid her down beside him. For the first time since they made love, they didn’t initiate any physical intimacy. Instead, they simply stared at one another.

She’s not for feeble minded people, there’s no doubt about it in his mind and if anything, Aleksander was more determined to love her because of it. She tested him in every way possible and while she was incredibly frustrating to argue with, Aleksander refused to give up on her. She’s difficult to understand to ordinary minds, but he isn’t ordinary.

His love will conquer in the end, he truly believed that. He could have continued on like nothing changed between them, but he could not be silent any longer. After all the time he’s spent in vein, all the years he wasted and lives he’s lived, Aleksander never found someone who gave him a reason to believe. Not until he met Y/N.

While she remained silent, stunned by his admission, he spoke of the day he first met Ivan and Fedyor. He spoke of their adventures, of their silly mistakes and she found herself smiling at first. Soon, she was laughing with him, and though she had no courage to admit it yet, she fell asleep thinking about him. Their knees were touching and her heart was racing, but the world never felt so right as it did when she was next to him.

Once on the road, she took the reins once again.

Kirigan ignored the whispers about her riding his horse, choosing to glare them into silence. No one dared to speak of it after.

Stopping a few miles short of their destination, Y/N drew a shuddered breath. The sight is hauntingly beautiful, a nightmare come alive. Swallowing thickly, a faint line formed between her eyebrows as they furrowed.

How could Aleksander be the Black Heretic? How is it possible for him to live so long?

“I’m here”, he whispers in her ear.

Goosebumps rise across the back of her neck as his warm breath dances across her skin. And there he is again, with her when she’s looking for solitude, offering his hand to hold and shoulder to lean on even when she least expects it. The worst thing is that she’s actually becoming dependent on his help and that scares her most of all, because what is she supposed to do when he decides he never did love her and all of it was simply an obsession fueled by her rejection. 

She’s still a novelty to him, that will wear off eventually.

“I’m not afraid”, she remarks, “I’m-“, she pauses in an attempt to find a better word, “Admiring it.”

“Admiring”, he repeats in surprise. “Most people find it absolutely terrifying.” 

She wondered if it frightened him. What would happen if he went in?

Turning her head to the side, she caught a glimpse of his parted lips. She felt ashamed how it caused her heartbeat to quicken, how it ached for a taste.

“I’m not most people”, she reminded him. And he knew that well. The Darkling would never fall for an ordinary woman.

“What I want to know is what went through his mind”, she grips the reigns tighter.

“Of the black heretic?”

Feeling his hands tighten around her waist, she nods. “I wish I knew what led to the creation of the fold. Why did he do it?”

“Maybe he just couldn’t help himself”, Aleksander’s voice is strained, “Maybe he’s just pure evil.”

Leaning the back of her head on his shoulder, she looked up at him. She longed for him, for an earnest conversation with their souls laid bare, but would she live long if she unveiled what her mind’s been tormented by?

“I don’t believe that”, she says softly.

Their eyes meet in an instant, the closeness forcing them both to hold their breath and look at each other silently. Looking at her, he touched her cheek gently with the back of his hand.

“Why give him the benefit of doubt?”

Aleksander’s free hand gently moves along her arm, finding its rightful place at the side of her neck, touching her skin so tenderly she felt blissful and it reminded her of that night where he unraveled her, made her scream in pleasure she never found before.

There was no denying it, Y/N had a weakness for his hand on her neck and his words in her heart, neither of which she had any willpower to refuse, especially not when she couldn’t breathe when he looked at her with such longing, shameful lust and indisputable passion and understanding.

It took everything in her to find the strength to speak again without her voice cracking under the pressure of her own emotions. 

“Because darkness doesn’t equate evil, just as light doesn’t equate good.”

Without a warning, he kissed her fiercely, violently, leaving her raw. She didn’t move away, she didn’t make a sound. All she did was close her eyes and part her lips and in that fraction of a second, she allowed herself to get lost in the beauty of a lover’s touch for when his lips claimed hers, nothing mattered anymore.  

When he broke away, she was breathless and undeniably his.

“What was that for?” She raised an eyebrow, a shadow of a smile forming on her bruised lips.

She shuddered, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip ruthlessly as Aleksander’s breath caressed her skin. It felt so right, too right to resist his advances. She lived for those long nights in their bed, those thick with lust and romance and naked kisses.

Aleksander shrugs, “I wanted to.”

Lips parted, she didn’t know what to do with that. He told her he loves her, that he’d wait for her to love him back and most women would fall at his feet. Something inside her refused to do so. To admit her feelings out loud would be the end of her. 

If she allows herself to love him fully, how could she possibly be the cause of his downfall? 

What would be left of her if she took his love and used it against him in the most cruel way possible?

She’s losing who she is around him, but it hurt so much more to reject his love. Hating him, pretending her heart isn’t a feeble muscle where he resides is exhausting.

Truth is, he doesn't make her feel safe or comfortable as she once believed a man should. He makes her feel like she's teetering at the edge of a cliff and she's getting addicted to that feeling. She’s getting addicted to him – his scent, his touch, his handsome smile and devilish smirk and most of all to the way his darkness drives away her demons.

Love has to come at once, with thunder and lightning like a hurricane that wreaks havoc on your life, to shake you up and break the heart like leaves off trees, to drag it into the abyss - abyss he created. 

She used to fear the dark, but now she found herself running into it.

In that moment, she smiled. 

Perhaps the darkness is not so bad if he’ll be there, holding her hand.

=============================

A/N - So, I literally wrote this in about two hours and I’m about to pass out. I wanna thank you for Eid Mubarak responses and especially for the feedback, I was just reading through them and they made my day so much better. I’m seeing some interesting theories too, some paragraphs you loved or just thoughts about the characters and IT GIVES ME LIFE. I’m so, so grateful for it all.

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart @xceafh @sanna2020 @tarkanelima-blog @takethee @mellifluous-cosmos @marvel-ousnesss @tea-effect @starlightofsolaria @p3nny4urth0ught5 @blackbirddaredevil23 @sarcastic-and-cool @slytherinsbiggestproblem @within-thehollowcrown @notthatchhavi @musicconversedance @freakytillthemoon  @lgkoval @honeyofthegods @queenmalhinewahine @misselsbells06  @whatthefluffrichard @aami98 @britriestbr @itsfangirlmendes @padme-parker @readingsssssssss @runawayolives @thehighladyofasgard @emlynblack @keithseabrook27 @dailydoseofchoices @deceivedeer @olympiacosplay @pansysgirlfriend @extrakyloren  @daybleedsintonightfa11 @thoughts-and-funnies @weirdowithnobeardo @folkloresworld @remugoodgirl​ 

PART 11

[akaashisbabygirl]

make me yours

if you know the original source of this picture! please dm me or let me know in my inbox so i can tag them

A/n: I am so excited to finally post my first length fic. I wrote a fic before about mafia akaashi and reader falling in love, and this one is similar but different as they are rival rivals. Check that one out too if you enjoyed this one!! I’m considering making a part two if this leaves people wondering what’s going to happens next <3 I wrote this story in third person as it was easier for me, for anyone wondering

Words: 6005

Pairings: Mafia!Akaashi x Mafia!Reader

Warnings: nsfw, characters are aged up, sex, oral (giving and receiving), hickeys, vaginal penetration, fingering

“Akaashi Keiji...” Yamiji, the great boss of the Fukurōdani mafia called out, stopping the young-looking boy in his tracks.

“What is it, sir?” Akaashi asked, his handsome turquoise eyes moving to face his boss.

“I need your advice with something... come with me.”

Akaashi nodded, tailing his boss down the lengthy corridor of the mafia building and into the headquarters where the boss generally stayed. Standing with his arms behind his back, Akaashi gently fiddled with his fingers, anxiously waiting for what the boss had called him in for. No one usually comes in Yamiji’s office, not unless something is the matter that he needs to discuss with them about. Akaashi wondered if he had done anything wrong. He didn’t want to be kicked out of the mafia - where would he go?

“We are at what seems like a war with the Nekoma mafia...” Yamiji started.

“Shit... that’s not good,” Akaashi thought. he knew that Bokuto, his best friend in the mafia was somewhat friends with Kuroo, one of the members of the Nekoma mafia. The two boys were close, Akaashi knew that. He wondered how Bokuto was going to take the news that they are now at what felt like a war against each other.

“And we want to be victorious... as usual. So, I’ve been working on some things lately and I’ve come up with a plan on how we can get the first laugh,” Yamiji’s choices of words were interesting, according to Akaashi.

“What is it, sir?” he asked, eyes now opening fully to know about the situation.

“What if the person we take out first it Nekomata’s daughter, Y/n?”

Akaashi thought about it for a second, “That would work. She is the head of the mafia’s daughter. Her death would be problematic with the Nekoma mafia, but then I fear they would come after us if they found out that we were the ones who assassinated her.

“Yeah! About that, don’t worry, Akaashi. I’ve already figured out ways we could get away with it. First option was to make it look like Nekoma’s other rival - Nohebi. Make it seem like they were the ones who ordered the assassination of Nekomata’s daughter,” Yamiji explained, chuckling evilly at his own plans.

“I believe that would work, but I’m not sure. do you have someone who you’ve picked to assassinate her?” Akaashi asked, just out of curiosity.

“Oh... yeah. Actually, about that, I was wondering if you could be that person?” Yamiji asked.

Akaashi blinked a couple times, to make sure he wasn’t daydreaming.

“You want me to do... what?” Akaashi thought he was dreaming. This didn’t seem right. In the mafia, he was only respected for being the brains of the group – nothing more.

“I would like you to be the one who assassinates Y/n. Will that be alright with you? I know you’re busy and all...”

“Yeah- no, no it should be alright,” Akaashi knew that he wasn’t able to defy the boss. He had to do what he was assigned.

“Really? Thank you, Akaashi!”

“You’re welcome sir. I promise, I won’t fail you.”

__________________________________________

I promise, I won’t fail you

The words ran through Akaashi’s mind on repeat, just like an echo. His eyes sat fixated on the naked girl standing in the bedroom, admiring her stunning body in the large, wide mirror. He could admit it – she had a nice body, she was an attractive girl, but he rejected to believe that she was Nekomata’s daughter.

She looked nothing like that old man. Her hair was (your hair length) and (your hair colour). She was young, looking around his age, maybe even younger.

How hadn’t she noticed him yet?

The dark grey curtains were wide open, the vivid light from the bedroom obvious to anyone who was looking up at the tall building.

How hadn’t she noticed him yet?

The boy settled with a mask concealing his face, donned in black clothing, standing on her balcony watching her. Or did she notice him and was acting like she didn’t. Judging by her facial expressions – she didn’t.

Akaashi watched as she slipped on the small nightgown that lay on the chair next to the mirror. She looked… stunning. How the fuck was she Nekomata’s daughter? She couldn’t be, unless her father had hooked up with someone, or Y/n had just got all her mother’s looks – that would only make sense.

Akaashi’s turquoise eyes were set on her – why did she make his chest hurt. She was nothing like he’d ever seen before, blowing him away so quickly.

He noticed her body turn to the windows, walking over. Akaashi tried to hide. Fuck. Did she notice him? Was she coming out to confront him, or even attempt to kill him? He would’ve been classified as a creep if anyone saw him standing on her balcony. He tried to hide himself to the best of his ability, turning his back around to blend in with the dark night sky. He held his breath, his eyes carrying a sign of fear as he silently prayed that he wouldn’t get caught.

A sigh of relief escaped Akaashi’s precious lips as he heard the curtains shut and the footsteps of Y/n walking off.

“It’s time to get out of here…” he muttered to himself, his mind now forgetting about the original plan to murder Y/n tonight. He couldn’t do it. Not now at least. He couldn’t kill her while he was still unsure why she had been making him feel slightly different. Akaashi sighed to himself, climbing down the rope he had used to get up.

__________________________________________

“I’m sorry sir…” Akaashi bowed in front of Yamiji, his eyes clenched shut as he prepared himself for his punishment, “I-I couldn’t kill her… I don’t know why… but I couldn’t.”

Yamiji sighed, “I really thought you would be the perfect person for this task, Akaashi. But, that’s not a problem. I can always just take you off the job and find another one of the members in this mafia to go kill her. I’m sure they’ll do it without a second thought.”

“NO.”

Akaashi didn’t know why he was screaming at this point. He couldn’t tell someone why his eyes were widened with shock from hearing his own boss say he would take him off the job. He wanted to prove that he was able to do what he was ordered to – that he wasn’t scared to do what he was assigned. But, all that Akaashi wanted to know was why she made him feel… odd? Why was there an instant urge to protect her when Yamiji said he would get someone else on the job? Why did he think she looked so beautiful when she had been disposed of her clothes?

“S-Sir… just let me have this job… please. I will go back whenever I can and try to kill her. Just please, let me have this job,” Akaashi silently mumbled, trying to conceal his inner feelings, fearing what his own boss would think of him for the way he acted.

“I’m going to leave you on the job, Akaashi. But you must promise me that you will kill her.”

“Yes sir. I promise.”

__________________________________________

“What’s with you, Akaashi?” Bokuto asked, his hand colliding with Akaashi’s back, almost making him choke on his water, “I heard the boss has given you a task to do… something important even.”

Akaashi sat his glass down on the table as his best friend went to sit across from him.

“You could say that.”

“What is it?” Bokuto asked in a curious tone.

“I… have to assassinate Nekomata’s daughter.”

“Nekomata’s daughter? Wait… from the Nekoma mafia?” Bokuto’s golden eyes widened in shock.

Akaashi only nodded I response.

“BRO. THAT’S SUCH AN IMPORTANT TASK.”

“Quiet down!”

“Oops… sorry. But, seriously Akaashi. I can’t believe it. You’ve been given such an important task, considering that we’re currently in war with the Nekoma mafia!”

__________________________________________

Akaashi stood on the silver balcony once more, peering into the room that Y/n stood in once again. This time, she was dressed fully in black clothing, similar to him. He hid his gun from himself, only threating to actually use it if someone did catch him standing up there.

There was no way in hell he could kill her. He didn’t have the guts to. At this point in life, Akaashi could only stand there and watch the beautiful girl who stood on the other end of the door. Her (your hair colour) hair was spread across the pillow on her bed, her attention drawn to her phone. Akaashi still wondered if she knew he were there – hopefully she didn’t.

He was sure of it now. Sure, that he didn’t want her dead. He wanted to keep seeing her like this. Keep watching her from her balcony like a stalker. He loved the way she sat on her bed, her (your hair colour) hair spread out on the pillow behind you, your attention directed to your phone. Akaashi sighed in defeat – there wasn’t going to be any way for him to get you to notice him, and it wouldn’t be long before Yamiji hired someone else to murder you.

He couldn’t fall in love.

He knew he couldn’t, because if anything were to ever happen to you, he would be heartbroken. Akaashi sighed. As much as he wanted to continue to stare at your beautiful features, he knew he couldn’t stay here for long. He would have to leave eventually.

__________________________________________

Kuroo sat in his chair, his feet up on the table as he whistled while Y/n walked by. Y/n rolled her eyes, ignoring him to the best of her ability.

“Hey kitten,” the tall, black haired boy smirked.

Y/n rolled her eyes, trying to walk past, only to have the boy grab onto her wrist. She struggled to free her wrist, but Kuroo was stronger than her, so really, there was no use.

“Let go of me, Kuroo,” she demanded, an angry tone filling her soft voice.

“Kitten… you know you want me to be with you. Come on. Why waste your time on some random boy when you can just be with me. You know I’ll treat you like the queen you are,” Kuroo winked.

She would only roll her eyes in response. It had become a regular occurrence where Kuroo would come up to her and suggest a relationship. However, she never wanted to be in a relationship – not now at least, and most definitely not with him. She was sick of being in the mafia with Kuroo, he was too much of a flirt. It made her a target of his, being the only girl in the Nekoma mafia.

“You say that, Kuroo, but the last girl you were in a relationship with, you cheated on her.”

“Yeah, but she wasn’t special. I just wanted to be with you, kitten.”

“I’m not taking any of your bullshit, Kuroo. I’ve told you at least a hundred, or even a thousand times, I do not want to be in a relationship with you. now, leave me the fuck alone. Father wants to see me for something!” you argued back, pulling your wrist from Kuroo’s grasp and storming off.

“Fucking bitch,” Kuroo muttered underneath his breath.

Y/n made her way as quick as possible up to her father’s office. She knew that if she wasn’t fast, Kuroo was going to come right after her. She didn’t want that – she didn’t want him. By this point, she was sick and tired of him and his bullshit. He would confess his love to her one day, and that exact night he’d be pulling a new girl into his bedroom and fucking her. It became obvious to her eyes that Kuroo really wasn’t interested, and she herself wasn’t planning on spending anytime waiting around for a boy who was unsure of his feelings.

Her body stood outside the dark, wooden doors of her father’s office. Her soft fingertips pressed against the keypad, typing in the special passcode of the office that only he gave her. The doors automatically opened, her father’s figure sitting at his desk now being visible to her (your eye colour) eyes.

“Hello Y/n,” her father’s evil smirk appeared onto his old face.

“What have you called me here for, father?” she never liked being called into her father’s office for long. She wanted to do her own thing, not sit around and listen to her father’s bullshit every once in a while.

“Oh, I see you’re jumping straight to the point.”

“Precisely. So, what is it that you want from me today?”

Nekomata took a breath before speaking again, “I have a task for you, my precious girl. You know how we are currently at war with the Fukurōdani mafia? I believe they’re going to send an assassin from their shitty group to come after one of our members… and their smartest member, Akaashi, would be a perfect first start for us.”

“What’s the thing with Akaashi?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s the smartest one in their group. If we’re able to kill him first, the Fukurōdani mafia should knew not to mess with us.”

“Why exactly do you want me to be the one who kills Akaashi? Why can’t you pick someone else like Kenma or maybe even Kuroo? You know both of them would love to have that job.”

“Because both boys seem to have a slight friendship with Akaashi and Bokuto. They would both hesitate to take their so-called friend’s life, that is why I’m entrusting this mission to you, my sweet girl,” Nekomata explained.

You could only scoff, folding your arms as you stared at your father.

“So, what do you say, my dear? Will you be up to the task, or should I call someone else to do it for you?” her father asked.

He knew she loved to take on a challenge, which is why he threatened to give the job to someone else if she wasn’t up to it. He knew his ways to get what he wanted, and in times of need, he wouldn’t forget about these ways. Nekomata always got what he wanted.

“I will.”

__________________________________________

Y/n stood at her mirror, admiring her body. Her beautiful hair had been tied up in a lower ponytail, enough to keep it out of her face. Her body was draped with black clothing, mainly pants and a shirt, a belt strapped around her waist which was to hold her weapons.

She sighed; her eyes still focused on your body in the mirror. How did she end up in his position? How did she go from such an innocent girl to someone who took other people’s lives without any care in the world?

Quickly, she fled from her apartment, making her way to the address of this Akaashi fellow’s home.

Where he lived was such a beautiful place. Why was she feeling this way? Why was she imminently drawn to the place where he called home?

She climbed up the balcony with the rope she stored in her backpack. Resting herself on Akaashi’s balcony, she noticed the curtains of his apartment only slightly opened. Peeking inside, she could see the flashes of the TV screen lighting up the dark room, making out the figure of a boy sitting up against the bed head.

He had a dull look on his face – almost as if he was upset for some reason. Why did he look like that? Slowly she shook her head. She shouldn’t be thinking like this. Not at all. Her mind should’ve only been focused on the boy she was assigned to kill.

But why did she want to hold him so badly?

He looked young – just a little older than her. He had beautiful, messy, black hair, a decent body, dressed in a dark coloured shirt and some grey sweatpants. He was a good-looking boy. Y/n could only shake her head again.

Stop, stop, stop, stop. Why are you thinking like this, Y/n?

She shook her head, trying to throw the thoughts form her mind. That didn’t work. Her soft, (your eye colour) eyes sat focused on Akaashi, watching his every movement. She needed the right moment for when he was unarmed to go into the room and attack him. It wasn’t her first kill – so it was nothing new to her. She knew what she was doing.

She sat on his balcony, watching him for what felt like an hour before she noticed the boy get up from his spot on the bed. He walked down the corridor, shutting one of the doors behind him. He was probably using the restroom.

She used that opportunity to sneak into the apartment. How careless of this boy? Leaving the door unlocked for anyone to secretly walk in without him even realising. Quietly, she shut the glass door behind her, turning around to find a place to hide. She didn’t think about the situation. Where was she going to hide? What was she going to do? She didn’t think of anything properly at all.

“Just as I expected,” Her body jumped, hearing the voice of a man in the bedroom.

Anxiously, she turned around to find Akaashi standing behind her, his arms folded and a glare spreading over his face. She was able to see him more clearly now – he did indeed have a beautiful looking face. He was a beautiful boy.

When her father had first brought him up, she thought that he was going to be an older looking man, someone who had been in the mafia for several years – but her thoughts were wrong. Too wrong.

Akaashi stepped forward, only causing her to step back, trying her best to get away from him. These actions continued, until the back of her legs met with the edge of Akaashi’s bed. Why wasn’t she drawing her gun? She had it on her right now, she could use it to protect herself, but she didn’t.

Akaashi was now standing directly in front of her, chest against chest. Her body had lost all of its control. Akaashi’s hands flew up, pushing her down onto the bed. She wasn’t fighting back, not at all. She was completely mesmerised by this boy, by the way he acted and what he looked like. He was nothing compared to the Akaashi who she had imagined.

Akaashi kneeled onto the bed, pinning her tiny body underneath his large frame. His hands pinned her wrists down onto the sheets.

“You’re Y/n Nekomata,” how was his voice attractive too?

Why did she sound like she was falling for him?

“H-How do you know who I am?” she asked, her eyes widening.

“Because, my boss asked me to assassinate you. And now, you show up outside my apartment, even going as far to sneak into my apartment? You’re so rude, Y/n. I never once broke into your apartment when I was there,” he smirked.

Son of a bitch.

Why was he like this?

Why did his words create a blush that began to spread across her face? She didn’t like it when Kuroo touched her, pinning her to the wall or even trying anything remotely sexual with her, but she was fine with being pinned underneath the body of the man she was assigned to kill.

“Y-You’ve been to my apartment?” She didn’t know what else to say at this point. She had become absolutely speechless.

Akaashi stayed absolutely silent. She could only wonder now. Was Akaashi also assigned to assassinate her?

“I think it’s time you leave.”

The heartbreaking words that she didn’t want to hear fell from Akaashi’s lips.

However, she didn’t want to leave. Y/n wanted to stay pinned underneath his gorgeous body for as long as she could. She wanted to be close to him, bodies touching with the minimum lighting in the bedroom. Was she attracted to him? Maybe. Because, if this feeling was a normal feeling, why didn’t she feel the same way when it came to Kuroo, someone who she wasn’t ordered to kill from a rival mafia? Did the thrill of herself getting caught by someone with the man you’ve been assigned to kill thrill her in some way? Maybe. But honestly, she didn’t even know herself.

“C-Can you get off me first?” She asked, a small, playful chuckle leaving her lips.

Akaashi only smirked before letting go of her wrists, standing up and watching her pull herself from her laying down position. She readjusted her hair, grabbing her small bag that had fallen to the floor when he pinned her down.

She jumped, feeling a hand slip underneath her shirt and to her belt, grabbing the gun. Her head turned with widened eyes towards Akaashi, with her gun now sitting in his hand.

“I’ll be taking this from now on.”

He was truly a smart boy. A boy that she now wanted to meet again. She couldn’t kill him – especially not when he ignited some sort of fire inside of her body that she thought she lost.

__________________________________________

Y/n stood on the balcony once again, just like the week before. The curtains had been opened a little more this time. Akaashi was in the same position as last time, his back pressed up against the headboard as the glowing lights from the TV brought light to the dark room.

She could only sit and watch. She wanted to be caught by him again – if he would ever notice her. Y/n sat and watched; her eyes sitting focused on the boy who seemed to have no idea that she was there.

Y/n watched as his hand came into contact with the remote, pressing the pause button. He got up from his resting spot, walking over to the window.

He was coming towards her.

She didn’t know if she should move or stay and wait for him to find her. She wanted to feel him again, she wanted to be close to him. Even though, right now the smartest option was to move and leave before he could find her.

But she couldn’t move.

The curtains were drawn open, her face now meeting with Akaashi once again. The glass door slid open, Akaashi’s hand moving out to grab onto her wrist tightly, pulling her into the room. He pushed her towards the side, locking the door and shutting the curtains. He couldn’t have anyone seeing the two of them together.

“You haven’t been here in a week. I was starting to think you had gotten bored of me,” Akaashi smiled as he rested the palm of his hand on her cheek.

“My father wanted to spend some time with me, so I’ve been at his mansion for the last week,” she answered.

Seeing him like this, she was able to notice his height. He was tall, taller than her. She had to move her head up, just so she was able to stare into his turquoise coloured eyes.

“You keep coming back. Why is that?” Akaashi asked.

“I have to kill you…”

She has to kill him. That was what she was assigned. But she couldn’t. He had taken her only gun away from her the first time the two met face to face. It was childish of her to keep running back to the same guy she shouldn’t be with.

“You won’t.”

“What do you mean, I won’t?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

“You won’t kill me.”

“Of course, I will. Why would you think I wouldn’t?”

“You’re here right now. You let yourself get caught.”

He wasn’t wrong. This is what her dad meant when he said that Akaashi was smart.

“Y-You…”

Akaashi smirked, leaning forward and pressing his lips onto her own. His lips were soft, but his kiss was strong and filled with passion. Her mind had gone completely blank, unable to focus properly. She returned the kiss, letting him slip his tongue past her lips.

This was wrong.

She pulled her lips from his, her mouth slowly parted as she looked up at him. She wanted him to tell her to stay, so she could get to know him. She wanted to stay. She didn’t want to leave him again. Akaashi had tugged at her heart strings harshly, and now, she didn’t know what to do without him.

“You need to leave. You can’t keep coming back here.”

She felt her heart sink.

__________________________________________

Y/n’s hands flew to his black hair. Her legs began to feel shaky as she came into contact with the back of the bed. Akaashi only pushed her forward, her back now meeting with the soft sheets of the bed

It had been weeks since he first kissed her. Weeks of her sneaking back to his apartment because she desperately needed to see him. It had been the same with Akaashi too. There had been days where he made his way over to her apartment, sitting on her balcony and watching as she fell asleep, making sure she was safe.

Truth was – he didn’t want her to leave.

He knew she wasn’t, as she kept appearing at his apartment. He continued to let her in, as he started to realise, he was falling for her. It was obvious that she was falling for him too; especially with the small blush that would appear onto her face when he would touch her or kiss her.

His hands moved to her wrists, pinning them down tightly onto the bed once more. Akaashi’s lips moved from her lips, down to her neck, sucking on her soft, delicate skin. Soft pants flew from her lips as he found her sweet spot.

His lips began to suck on her collar bone, hands desperately tugging on her black shirt, desperate for the material to come off.

“C-Can I?”

Even though she was from a rival mafia gang, he still wanted to take his time with her. He wanted her to feel safe in his arms.

“Y-Yeah…”

Instantly, he slipped the black shirt from her body, revealing her lace, black bra. It was almost as if she had planned for this exact moment.

“You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?” He smirked, burying his head into her chest.

Akaashi’s hands flew to her back, unclasping her bra. He pulled away, throwing her bra onto the floor where the rest of her clothes lay, discarded somewhere on the wooden floorboards. Her hands flew to cover her breasts from his eyes, but Akaashi only held onto her hands, pinning them back down onto the bed. He noticed the small blush which began to sit on her cheeks, due to her chest being exposed to the boy she was supposed to kill.

This was stupid of her, to be all exposed, needy and wet for him. She had been assigned to go kill him, not sleep with him. It wasn’t her first-time having sex, she wasn’t a virgin, and it wasn’t the first time she and Akaashi had done something sexual. He had fingered her, gone down on her, and she’d even given him a blowjob. However, the two of them had never gone the full way before, and she wanted that to change tonight.

She wanted him to take her and make her his.

Akaashi’s soft lips wrapped around her nipple, sucking lightly. Her head was thrown back against the pillows, her breathing heavy, chest rising and her lips slightly parted. Akaashi switched his attention to her other nipple, a small whine leaving her lips.

“Keep your hands where they are. I don’t want to have to tie you to the headboard.”

She did as she was told. It was funny with how quickly Akaashi could pull her down into submission. His hands unbuttoned her pants, pulling the zipper down, tugging the black material down her legs. He pulled his own shirt off, throwing it to the pile of clothes on the floor, along with her pants. Akaashi pressed soft kisses onto the inside of her thigh, before coming into contact with her matching black, lace panties. He ran his finger along her clothed womanhood, a small moan falling from her lips. She was wet, soaking even.

“You’re soaking for me, baby.”

He slipped her panties down her legs, throwing them to the floor as he spread her legs apart for him. Her legs sat spread wide, her slick evident to his eyes. Akaashi dipped his head down to her womanhood, licking a strip around her folds, collecting her wetness on his tongue. His tongue pushed into her cunt, a louder moan falling from her lips. His lips moved up, sucking on her clit as his fingers toyed with her entrance. From how wet she was, he was able to push two fingers into her cunt. He dragged them along her tight walls, curling them inside which earned a sharp moan to fall from her lips.

Her body was sensitive to Akaashi’s touch. She craved him more than he craved her. Her hips bucked up as he was able to slip another finger inside of her, stretching her out for him. Akaashi’s fingers were long and slim, decorated with beautiful veins which stood out. His fingers hit spots deep inside of her. Her walls clenched tightly around Akaashi’s fingers, moans slipping from her lips as she lost control of her body.

“G-Gonna cum…” her voice was shaky, legs shaking as her climax washed over her like a wave.

Akaashi removed his fingers from her cunt, watching how her cum had coated his fingers. He brought his fingers to his lips, sucking on her cum. He watched as she tried to hide her face from him.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded.

Following orders, she moved onto her knees, watching how Akaashi now set himself up against the bed head, his legs spread as he stroked his clothed boner, “You know what to do.”

She crawled in between his legs, hands moving to unzip his pants, tugging them down his legs, along with his boxers. Her eyes came into contact with his member once again. She threw his clothes to the floor, her mouth moving down to wrap her lips around his length. Akaashi’s hand sat on top of her forehead, helping her take more of him into her mouth. She maintained eye contact with him as she went down on him

“Rub your clit for me, baby. Make yourself cum,” Akaashi moaned out.

She followed orders once again, rubbing her clit. Pleasure spread throughout her body as her wet cunt clenched around nothing. She could feel her arousal dripping down her thighs, her legs shaking as her clit became sensitive. Being sensitive, her climax built up almost quickly, her cum now shooting from her cunt, dripping down her legs and onto Akaashi’s bedsheets.

She felt horrible for ruining his sheets, but her mind was filled with lust and need for him to even consider apologising. Akaashi pulled his length from her lips, watching as drool began to slip from her lips.

Akaashi grabbed onto her hips, lining her up above his erect length. He helped push her down, her walls clenching tightly around his length. He knew she wasn’t a virgin, so he didn’t care much about making sure if it hurt or not. She clenched her eyes shut for a second. He was the biggest she had ever taken. He helped her take all of him in, before pulling her off of him. A small gasp left her lips as she was thrown back down against the bed, her legs being wrapped around Akaashi’s waist as he began to thrust into her.

He took his anger on the mafia out on her, tearing her tight cunt open with every thrust of his hips. The room began to be filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, loud moans falling from her lips as deep groans fell from Akaashi’s. He hated the fact that they were both assigned to kill each other, but they both couldn’t. he couldn’t accept the thought that she had to die, that she had to be killed in order for the Fukurōdani mafia to scare off the Nekoma mafia.

He wanted to be with her. She wanted to be with him.

He loves her. She loves him.

But they can’t be together. They can’t be seen in public. They can’t hang around and hold hands and make love to each other. They were rivals, but they were in love. Rivals in love. Two people who were exact opposites were in love. They were drawn to each other, desperate for each other. They needed each other to survive.

“A-Akaashi… I-I love y-you,” she moaned out without any care in the world.

Akaashi’s heart felt as it had stopped. Did she really just say that?

She wanted to hide the fact that she was in love with him, but now that her mind had been clouded with the feelings of love, passion and lust, she wasn’t able to conceal her feelings towards him.

“I love you too,” he groaned out, fingers moving to rub harsh circles on her clit while his lips moved to suck on her neck.

“C-Cumming… Akaashi.”

“M-Me too.”

The two both climaxed together, Akaashi’s seed shooting inside of her. He began to panic, knowing he didn’t pull out and that he wasn’t sure if she was on birth control or not. He pulled out of her, going to the bathroom to grab a towel as the thought ran through his mind. What the fuck did he just do?

He grabbed the wet towel, cleaning in between her legs.

“You need to go home…” Akaashi mumbled under his breath. He didn’t want her to leave. He wanted her to stay and spend the rest of the night with him, but he knew how dangerous it was for her to stay.

“I don’t want to leave. I want to stay with you! And- I-I don’t think I can walk.”

With the way her soft eyes were looking at him, soft and serious, he couldn’t say no. Instead, Akaashi pulled the bedsheets over her naked body, covering her and himself. Akaashi let his head rest on the pillow, her hands moving to rest on his chest as she curled up to his side, falling into a deep slumber.

__________________________________________

“Hey kitten,” Kuroo smirked.

She was sick and tired of Kuroo now. She wanted to scream and tell him that she’s in love with another boy. That she had sex with another boy and tell him that he needed to leave her alone or she would kill him.

But she couldn’t.

“How’s the mission going, kitten? Actually, killed him yet?” Kuroo smirked.

She wanted to scream. She couldn’t kill him.

“Just leave me alone Kuroo, I don’t want your pity.”

He only chuckled, “Suit yourself, kitten.”

He pushed her up against the wall, hands pinning hers to the cold, wooden wall, “Though, I will make you mine, if you like it or not.”

“You can’t.”

Kuroo tilted his head in confusion.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Someone has already made me theirs,” she smirked.

“That’s bullshit. Everyone in the mafia knows that you’re going to belong to me, and only me. No one would be stupid enough to touch you without my permission. You’re lying!”

It was almost as if Kuroo was trying to convince himself that she still was going to be with him, that she hadn’t been taken by someone who was going to love her more than he ever could.

“Pull the bandage from my neck and look. There is your proof.”

Kuroo tugged the bandage from around her neck. His eyes widened, noticing the dark purple marks which decorated her neck.

“Where the fuck did you get these?”

“From the boy who made me his, Kuroo.”

Kuroo threw the bandage to the floor in anger, “You fucking slut.”

“Correction. His slut,” you chuckled, watching as Kuroo stormed off in anger.

© all content belongs to akaashisbabygirl 2020, do not repost or change

[meggannn]

one thing that bugs me within HZD fandom—or at least in a lot of reddit threads and the occasional tumblr note—is how the discussion of Aloy as the chosen one because of the circumstances of her birth always gets reframed around [REDACTED] in a way that discredits Aloy.

I do love the “hero is a rando” stories as much as the next person, but what I like about HZD is that it sets up Aloy to be some incredible savior and then it turns out... well, she might do cool things, but she’s kind of a jerk, actually! and she has every right to not want to help most people when she’s been hurt and mistreated by them for all of her young life.

Aloy is a hero, yes, but not because of her birth, but because she chooses to be one. and it’s a hard choice for her, because her natural inclination is to help herself—which is an understandable trait now that she is old enough to try to give herself what she was denied for nearly twenty years—and I like that they keep stressing that.

now that we’re under the cut I’m gonna talk spoilers.

Aloy is a great fighter and impressive machine-hunter and she is very smart, but that’s not because she’s Elisabet’s clone, but because she had to develop those skills to survive. every part about her personality and skillset can really be attributed to a few key elements about her: being an outcast and shunned and judged for something out of her control, growing up in the wilds in a world full of dangerous machines, not being raised with any sense of family or friends or community, and her feelings of loneliness. everything about her personality and abilities has a tie back to one or several of those things, either as a way to explain them, or overcome them. those were things Aloy did because she chose to chase the mystery of her past, but her Elisabet genes didn’t do them for her.

so it really does bug me when people talk about it as if it’s Elisabet’s acumen that should be given credit when we talk about why Aloy is the hero of her own story. I think we are far enough as a culture that we can acknowledge nurture plays a much bigger role in someone’s personality than nature, even for clones. (and I think this is why the Lightkeeper Protocol was doomed to fail anyway.) I think GAIA, when awake, may eventually struggle with this initially, calling her Elisabet instead of Aloy because it’s Elisabet she misses and wants to see again, and she doesn’t know Aloy at all—but she is an AI, and can adapt quickly.

but why I think it bothers me so much is that this “she’s a natural hero” narrative goes against Rost’s last lesson that he teaches Aloy in the prologue. Aloy’s flaws are that she is selfish and often self-centered, and doesn’t rely a lot on others, often to the point of discrediting their abilities. she barges into the Hunters Lodge and demands Talanah take her on as a thrush based on her own assumption that she’s as good a hunter, if not better, than most of the people in the building. she says “I’m faster on my own” to Erend’s incredulity, implying others would just slow her down. they’re completely understandable foibles for someone who has been alone and shunned by the world her entire life and learned to survive because of it.

but Aloy isn’t strong or smart or brave because she was a clone of Elisabet. she could have walked away from seeking revenge against the Eclipse, and arguably, she might have even done it if she hadn’t had a personal interest in the matter: finding out who Elisabet was. Sylens even calls her out multiple times for her short-sightedness in focusing on “what happened to Elisabet?” instead of "what happened to the world?” (I think in ELEUTHIA-9 she says something like "This is interesting, but it's not why I'm here though" and Sylens says sarcastically "Right, what's the whole of human history compared to the origins of one girl?")

again: it’s completely understandable that the girl raised with no family is looking for, y’know, her family, but I think it’s also a pointed choice by the writers: Aloy doesn’t really feel like she belongs to a tribe, so she feels, in some sense, that she has nothing to lose by antagonizing and refusing help to anyone. what are they going to do, banish her? her one lifeline is Rost: it’s her love for him, and his last act of sacrifice for her, that propels her self-centered (though by no means wrong) desire of “I need to find where I came from” to “these people are killers who threaten what I believe in,” and “they will kill again, and even if they will hurt the people who hurt me, many of whom I still dislike, I must do my best to stop them.”

the biggest scene that shows her laser focus on her own interests to the extent of others’ is when Erend asks her for help tracking Ersa’s killer and she denies him without the player's input. I thought that was an interesting choice because the game is canonically telling us that Aloy will barge her way past allies to get what she wants, and she will not be nice about it. like, Erend, a man grieving, tries to get her to stop for two seconds to hear out his ask for help, and she says “Out of the way” and “That’s your war, not mine.” Normally games might give you a choice to say yes or no to helping an ally, even if the game will eventually force you help them to progress the story; but the writers made a choice to show her denying a friend help, just after he helped her. It shows she’s still at the point in her journey where she sees others either as allies to help her or as foes in her way, and she might help allies if she makes time for it on her own (side quests), but when she's impatient and picks up the scent of her prey, she’s willing to ignore others’ needs.

it’s honestly debatable if she would have even cared so much about seeking revenge against the Eclipse if Helis hadn’t killed Rost: certainly she may have been interested in seeing them punished for their ambush against a bunch of Nora teenagers, but she mentions Rost the most consistently when she talks about tracking down Helis, not even Vala or the other Braves (RIP). even to Sylens, who didn’t know any of them, she says “You [didn’t say you knew the man] who killed my... who almost killed me.” (also, sob forever that Aloy still can’t call him her dad even after he’s dead, only “the man who raised her.” Rost really did not teach her to ever call him “Dad.” it’s no wonder why she was so focused on finding at least one parent, a mother, who is centered throughout Nora culture.) but the Nora ambush, while a factor, is still kind of... a side thing. she is most interested in their connection to this mysterious woman-who-might-be-her-mother, and the mystery of why they tried to kill her. people just assume that she is after them out of vengeance for the Nora, and she does not correct them as she uses her Seeker title to explore her own interests.

and speaking of Sylens, I think they are great foils for each other just for this reason: Aloy immediately senses there’s something she doesn’t like about him from basically the moment he makes contact. he’s prickly, arrogant, impatient, unsympathetic, and hates to play nice or work as a team. but like... are they really all that different? I think that Aloy sees Sylens in her future if she doesn’t learn to get along with people. like Aloy, Sylens is definitely rude to you, but I hope you realize you, too, are also pretty rude to others as well! (though you could argue this is a game mechanic so she can ask the questions that the player might be wondering.)

this is not all to say that she’s dispassionate or uncaring, or that her mission isn’t sympathetic or understandable. she helps people out, but her goal driving the story, her True North in a way, is really her own interest to find out who she is and where she came from. one of the significant moments she grows in this regard is when she comes out of ELEUTHIA-9 and decides to fight for the Nora, and for the entire world. she just discovered the truth of her birth isn't what she wanted, and she even thinks afterwards that she’s “not a person, just an instrument.” she’s devastated. what on earth does it mean, that she’s a “recreation” of Elisabet? they don’t have words for “clone” in her world—she thinks it means she’s literally not a human being. she doesn’t want a grand destiny to save the world, she just wants to find her mother and have that sense of belonging she was denied for so long, and she didn’t find that—turns out, she never had that. and now she’s being expected to take on this huge burden about restoring GAIA and fighting subfunctions that she doesn’t understand. both of her “mothers" are dead and there are a bunch of people waiting outside the bunker for her to tell them what their goddess is saying.

so when she walks out of that bunker and sees a bunch of scared, hopeful faces looking at her for answers, her decision to fight HADES—not just on behalf of GAIA but on behalf of the Nora and Carja and Oseram and all others—is her accepting that even though she isn’t what she thought and didn’t get what she wanted, she needs to help others because she is a still part of this world and can make a difference. that’s what makes her heroic. her hero-worship of Elisabet is understandable, but it’s not what’s going to get her through the next challenges in her life—only her own growth and commitment to doing good will do that.

when she tells Rost “if I’m going to fight for something, it’s going to be something I believe in,” I think that was her saying “I’ll fight for that something, but if I find it, I think I’ll end up finding it on my own, and it won’t be with the Nora.” at that time in her journey, she was running the Proving to get something for herself, not to serve the Nora, which she would have been expected to do normally if she had successfully completed it. but she does find something to believe in, and it is with the Nora, both physically in the mountain, and in the spirit of any community: it’s not Elisabet herself, like she thought, but it is what Elisabet stood for, and died for. she may not fully understand what GAIA or the subfunctions are yet, but she knows that their survival and mutual cooperation are necessary for the betterment of people now and civilizations everywhere. she isn’t really fighting for Elisabet or the Old Ones, or I don’t think so, at least—I think it is a factor to do all of this in Elisabet’s memory, in some way, but mostly I think she’s fighting for people alive today. it’s the same conclusion Elisabet came to: the Old Ones are doomed, but people of the future might still have a chance, and that chance is worth her dedication.

but how how a lonely girl ends up fighting to save the world when she barely understands it or the people in it, is an interesting challenge. for this reason I also expect to see her faults in full display in the sequels. Aloy’s tactlessness is a big flaw of hers when it comes to her dismissiveness and occasional derision toward any religion/cultural traditions she doesn’t understand or value. she works through this in some way over the course of the story, like when she decides to spare the Nora the truth of their goddess with an easy lie after leaving ELEUTHIA-9, but particularly in the DLC (which can take place at any point in the story), she challenges a werak to become the chieftan of a tribe she knows very little about, just to get something for herself: she wants to further her goal of investigating AI. I expect this trait of hers will be something we see more of in future games, her barging into a community she doesn’t know anything about and telling them how to do things for their own good. (I call it the “Solas Problem” from Dragon Age Inquisition.) she might be right most of the time, but she also needs to learn how to talk to the people she’s trying to save, and learn how to save them without changing who they are.

[leahseclipse]

Daily surprises

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Summary: Everyday, Spencer finds a new book in his bag, as he begins to look forward to it when the event has been occurring for a while.

Requested by @writing-in-april​

A/N: I really liked writing this request!!! it really was cute asF!! Thanks for proposing that April, the fic u wrote for me last time was amazing (as ALWAYS), so I hope that you’ll like this one.

And uhh sorry about the books parts, I don’t know any of the books- I literally googled the summaries-

Word count: 3.8k

Books have always been a passion of mine; I have always been fascinated by how words can make the reader feel, how each reader can have a different opinion about them, different feelings, every reader is different when it comes to the fact of the opinion they have about the work.

They had always been a sort of shelter to me. I usually had the habit (and still have it) to comfort myself in them, they’d be able to express feelings like no one could, allow me to learn about various things, subject, build an opinion on a subject I had never thought of having an opinion, debate or even mention before.

I had been collecting more and more of them through the years, to the point of having an apartment that could be mistaken as a sort of tiny library. 

My books are literally everywhere, in my shelves, on my couch, on the low table, under and on chairs, even at my desk, and in my bag.

I always carry around one or two in my bag (of course, if they both don’t contain a lot of pages to the point of weighing a ton when combined together), in case I happen to have free time (which happened to become rare when I had begun working at the FBI), and have nothing else to do but read. 

It also happened to be a passion I've been sharing with another person, more known as y/n.

She had first mentioned that she didn't happen to read a lot, but eventually appreciated reading, which I was more than happy to hear, considering all the books I knew and how much it meant to me.

Clearly, she didn't expect me to know a whole library in my brain when she happened to ask if I could recommend a few; but she always liked to hear me rambling about them. 

She had eventually begun taking a liking to reading again; often asking me about books I've read, talking about her opinion on the book she had read, which would often be followed by an endless rambling from me, being much longer than what she had previously explained, or even expected when I had begun sharing my opinion as well.

It was nice to have someone else to talk about books with, without feeling I could possibly be disturbing them. 

Most of my colleagues would either stay there until I'd be done, they knew how much I appreciated talking about these to them; even if the majority of the team wasn't much interested, they were just being polite and respectful by staying.

Now that I talk about it, I probably should have apologized for all of the times I had rambled for a large amount of time when talking about the four books I've read in a day.

They're pretty much the main subjects I talk the most about, if, of course, I exclude Star Trek, Doctor Who, and the many subjects I throw facts about all day long from the long list that includes all of the things I'm interested in;

...which would take quite a while to detail its entirety, since I probably would take the time to explain each of them as detailed as possible, without letting any word behind, as my brain would constantly send me as much information as it contains...which again, means, a lot.

But, even if my passion about them is often difficult to keep for myself without having the need to ramble an essay worth long about them, I try not to begin to talk about it, or mention it, except if someone else does. 

That became rare…as I often end up talking more than intended each time.

Reading can sometimes lead me to fall asleep quite later than I planned before even taking the book itself. 

Having the ability to read fast has often led to many nights with little sleep, considering how many books I can read in a short amount of time.

The aftermath of it isn't pleasant, as it results in more fatigue on top of the one I already have because of how late I'd stay up when working at the bureau.

The feeling I had this morning when I had woken up happened to be one of the side effects of a long and endless reading session I had done the previous night.

Little did I find out after thinking about it for a bit that I'd probably be regretting it at the end of the day, if not earlier.

Even if my body was telling me to stay in my bed considering how tired I was, work couldn't allow me to do it, unfortunately.

It only took a quarter of an hour in order for me to get ready, as I already had been crossing the door to leave my apartment without having the time to think about doing it.

The rest of the morning wasn't as busy as it usually would be; only paperwork for the previous days, nothing too complicated. 

But because of the short night I had, the coffee trips have been quite numerous after a while. 

A short conversation had occurred later in the day between y/n and me when she had gone to peek over my desk, curious to why I had been going in and out of consciousness; and leaving a lot to take refills. 

I didn't mind her asking at all, on the contrary, I had been waiting for an opportunity to talk with her; but as I didn't want to disturb her, I just kept glancing discreetly at her from time to time, hoping something to talk about would awaken a future conversation.

After a while, I noticed that she had left the room, just as I had the thought of something situated in my bag.

I had soon taken it in search of what I've been looking for, as I suddenly happened to be quite surprised as I found a book that I didn't remember putting the night before, any other day, or even this morning before leaving my apartment for work at all.

‘The Collector, John Fowles’

It was a surprisingly good choice, and the person who had put it there either had good taste or personally knew my preferences; or even both. 

Who knows. 

Even I would be explaining it to myself, and not to anyone; I’d prefer not to engage myself in that; as it could last up to an hour considering the length, and all that is to explain in order to understand the moral, and the motives of whatever is in the character’s mind in the book; so...a lot. 

“Withdrawn, uneducated and unloved, Frederick collects butterflies and takes photographs. He is obsessed with a beautiful stranger, the art student Miranda. When he wins the pools, he buys a remote Sussex house and calmly abducts Miranda, believing she will grow to love him in time. Alone and desperate, Miranda must struggle to overcome her own prejudices and contempt if she is to understand her captor, and so gain her freedom.” 

The resume of the book had simply begun automatically playing itself before I could even lay my eyes on the back cover; as I had read this book more times than my two hands could ever count, and you know; because of the eidetic memory thing, even if I had read it only once, I would have remembered it anyway.

I remember reading it for the umpteenth time around last week, precisely on a saturday, at 11PM. As long as I can remember, I apparently had nothing else to do but read, and absolutely not any other book to pull out of the shelf, except that one.

Even if I had strictly- no idea -of who could have truly placed it there, except y/n-, I still had appreciated having this work as a possible distraction, or a way to pass the time if I eventually happened to have no idea of what I could do next, in case I didn’t have any work left to do. 

As I raised my eyes to the desk in front of me, I happened to meet with y/n’s eyes just when she had  happened to stare at me as well. 

“What’s that book genius?”

“Oh, that? It’s the collector, from John Fowles. I like this one, but- is that you who put it there?”

“Yeah...why?”

“I uh- no particular reason! I just uh...wonder why it’s there…?”

“Well, read it, and you’ll see.” She said, as she stood to go god knows where.

“Read it? But I’ve already read-” I hurried out, but she had already gone out of the room, shooting me a smile before disappearing in the corner of the door. I stood there for a good minute, as I decided to open the book and read a bit of it as she previously told me to before leaving without even giving me an answer. She always liked to be mysterious, that’s kinda the reason I fell in love with her for. 

It really took a while so I would get a number.

She had slid it in one of my file just when she had left the building to go home, I swore I didn’t even have any breath when I had attempted at catching her before she has gone to her car, and if I hadn’t decided to go, one minute later, she would have been on the road, and I doubt that calling people on the road would have been safe and clever for me to do it.

It might have been a bit “mean” to do that as some would say, but we always had the habit of doing that, way before we started dating. We’d always let the other try to guess what the other meant, what he wanted to say, it all was a game, a sequel to the story that would occur later, all of these discussions, secrets, have been a preparation, and kept for what happened right now. 

It all was thanks to her, because if she wouldn’t have given it, I doubt that I would have gathered the courage too soon. Probably in 10 years or so, if not.

As I still was in my lecture, a bright blue paper with an inscription written in black ink had brought my attention, which led me to read it. 

“I know you’re surprised, yes, it’s in a book, and yes I could have told it to you in person, but I find it better in a note, you can keep it and carry wherever you want. It's also better as a note, and, in a book, because you had always liked books, which became the passion that has made us grow closer. This book was the first one that started a conversation between us, I don’t remember the day, but you probably do. This note might be confusing, but I wanted to do that, because at least, you have a reason to finish the book, because you might have another surprise soon. -yours truly, y/n”

The note had even ended with a heart; she’d always write one at the end of her texts, even a small word sometimes, it probably was an habit of hers, I don’t really know, we never mentioned it once, as I didn’t mind at all, I really liked the attention. 

Well, I pretty much like everything she does, whether she’s talking to me, talking to someone else, or doing whatever thing. I always like to see her around; I tend to get more relaxed when she’s with me; she always talks with me, and tries to know about what I do, even if I often noticed she probably didn’t understand a single word of whatever I rambled about. 

Among all of the subject she was at ease with, books happened to be one of them, she’d always participate actively, as most of the subjects included in the books would often inspirate her, push her to talk more than she usually would with other subject, or even in general, I’d help her find her words, participate in the conversation by argumenting, agreeing with her opinion, sharing my opinion so that we could compare them and argument once more about the differences, I’d also initiate the conversation by switching to another book when we’d have nothing else to talk about the book, or if one of the details in the book would make me think of another one.

Our discussions would often last hours, we wouldn’t even realize the amount of hours we’ve spent talking until one of us would think to look at the time.

Even if I liked every single moment we’d spend together, if I had to choose one (a temporary, as I always change my mind on which moment I prefer as I again like every single one), It’d be our numerous discussions about books, I had and would never grow tired of it.

As much as I like to hear her talking, I often let myself get distracted by her, to the point of having to be “woken up” from my thoughts by her when I happened to not pay attention. 

Because in these moments, all that matters is that I get to hear her voice, her smile as she passionately talks about what she likes, she way she always talks while moving her hands around, when she looks at me while I talk, when she touches my hand with the tip of her fingers to take the book situated in my hands.

She made me get more and more excited about the moments when I’d reach for a book in my bag, or somewhere in the drawer of my desk.

Especially when she had begun picking my interest by telling me she might propose another book the next day...or so? 

I don’t think I’ve been more excited about reading a book again before now.

Who would have thought someone would have such an effect on me on a subject I admire before y/n arrived in my life? I’ve never been so passionate about something other than books before her. 

*

My waiting (that had seemed like an eternity) had only lasted till the next day, not long after my arrival at the bureau. 

I hadn’t expected it, but the book had happened to be situated close to my keyboard, which after thinking, was obvious, if I’d take account of the numerous trips we both had done throughout the morning due to various reasons concerning either paperwork or matters of previous cases.

I had taken a seat on the desk, quite empty for a while due to, again, the trips, as I had glanced at the surroundings, only to see a few members of the team, busy doing whatever task that was in front of them. 

‘Great Expectations, Charles Dickens’

Again; fairly surprising, but quite a good surprise to discover, as I hadn’t seen it for a while before today.

The edition of the book present on my desk was one of the original versions of it, The cover had a black color, along with the title and the author written in large letters under the title of the book, both just on top of an illustration representing a woman holding a bouquet of various types of flowers, behind it, the outfit she wore was visible; a white embroidery, with a grey-ish and black necklace on top of it, which was situated around her neck. The illustration was displayed in the shape of a large square, almost taking the rest of the bottom of the cover, as a space was present after the closure of the white border around the illustration. 

My eyes wandered around the cover, as I switched sides, ending up on the back of it.

“Considered by many to be Dickens’s finest novel, Great Expectations traces the growth of the book’s narrator, the orphan Philip Pirrip (Pip), from a boy of shallow dreams to a man with depth of character. From its famous dramatic opening on the bleak Kentish marshes, the story abounds, with some of Dickens’s most memorable characters; Among them are-” 

I wasn’t able to finish the rest of the summary, as a familiar scent had caught my attention, two arms embraced my shoulders. 

“You didn’t say hi today. I’m gonna begin to think you don’t love me anymore.” She had said, in an obvious playful tone that had taken some time for me to understand as it was, only a joke.

“Sorry, I’m married to someone, my work.” I had said, before the feel of her lips on my left cheek interrupted me; as, before she could go, I turned my face, stealing a kiss from her.

“Is that your apology?” She asked. 

“If you see it that way, yeah.”

“Then I accept your apologies;”

“I’m glad, I couldn’t bear to see you in such a state that would make you sad, all because of me.” I talked in a dramatic tone, which seemed as if I was doing a play, but she had laughed at it, so, turns out that my ‘play’ had been worth it after all. 

“Have you opened it yet?”

“No, I only read the summary. Why, is there something there again?”

“See by yourself.” She said, gesturing her hand in the direction of the book, as I opened it per request. 

When my eyes fell on the first page, I had expected to see the page on which the title and the author are written in black, but instead of it, a picture that had apparently been printed in a matte paper was taped on the page.

The picture had contained a picture of me, reading a book while I was sitting on the floor, against the wall, of what seemed to be my apartment, the book I was holding seemed to be the same ones I was holding in my hands.

“When did you take that? I never saw you taking your phone when we were together.”

“That’s because you never pay attention to your surroundings when you read. A fire could happen in the apartment and you wouldn’t even notice it until you’d smell the smoke.”

“No, you’re lying, I do pay attention…sometimes.” 

“See? You admitted it yourself. The tone of your voice when you reached the end of the sentence even said it for you.”

“Yeah but, did I...do something wrong or…?”

“No, nothing wrong. On the contrary, your focus was so strong that I was able to take the picture. So, that’s a good thing, do that more.”

“Now that you told me that, I’m gonna pay more attention, you might attempt to kill me behind my back.”

“Yeah, I might kill you if you keep saying that. I’ll kill you with a bad book, I’d be a shame to kill you with a good book, I might damage it.”

“You care more about a book instead of possibly committing a murder on the one and only love of your life?”

“My one and only love is tea, you know it.” She said, as I faked being offended. “Come on, I’m kidding. But, if you keep insinuating that, I’ll care more about the book. So, if you don’t want me to kill my one and only love, behave on your best.”  

“Okay, behave on my best.” I said, tracing the outline of the picture with my index. “Even if the thought of seeing myself in that picture is kinda weird, I’ll keep it. Thanks for it, I’ll read it, well, if...I get to finish the work on my desk.” I said, as we both glanced at the paperwork on the desk.

“Yeah...I, uh. Yeah. I don’t want to...sadden you even more, but you should check your mails, there...might be more.” She said, as she tapped my shoulder before leaving, the smile on my face dropping as I came to the realization. 

“I guess the reading session is getting postponed then.” 

*

The week had really been full of a lot of surprises (if I don’t count the case we had, of course), she had pulled out books I haven’t read for years; books that I had wanted to read, but never got the time for; or even books I’ve never read, but she had surprisingly matched my taste well, as I ended up liking them more than I thought I would before even starting the book. 

To my surprise, we had gotten to have rest for once after the busy week that cancelled all of our plans in a snap. 

I haven’t even realized that it already was October 31st today, the work had completely gone over everything else that made up my thoughts, to the point that I haven’t thought of the book y/n had chosen today.

She’d always put it either on the top of my desk where I could see it, or in my bag, but after a minute or so of searching, I didn’t see it.

The only book that I could see was in my bag, a copy of ‘The Narrative of John Smith by Arthur Conan Doyle’,  I had always left it there, it was one of my favorite books, I had never gotten anywhere without it.

‘Maybe she forgot about it today. It happens.’

We had a small party like we usually do (when a case doesn’t interrupt us, of course), and various small events had been organized.

As I had been looking around, my attention had been snatched away by a hand slightly tapping my right shoulder, as I turned around to see y/n.

“Missed me?” 

“Yeah, I did.” I said, as I brought her closer, and brought my lips to hers, as we exchanged a brief kiss. “Where have you been?”

“I was with Penelope, just for a bit, because if you didn’t see it, she wasn’t around either.”

“Wasn’t she? Oh, apparently not.” I said, as I saw her coming in, walking in the direction of Emily who had called her.

“What were you thinking about?”

“You, and books.”

“Oh, talking about books, did you notice something?”

“Something? Uh, no. I haven’t seen one, except the book I always carry.”

“And what is it?”

“The Narrative of John Smith, why?”

“Well, you just noticed something. The book you just saw is the one you were looking for.”

“But, I had it yesterday, and all of the days before. I-I don’t get it.”

"In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s October 31st today; the date the book was published by the edition you own, it even was the first book I laid my eyes on when we met.” She pointed out.

“...you just reduced my IQ to 60 in a minute.”

“Oh, did I?”

“Yeah, I knew it was our anniversary, but never had I thought that this book was involved.”

“Now you did, and you better remember it, and never forget to carry it.”

“I would never.” I said, as I gently put my hand on her cheek, as she suddenly raised herself on the tip of her toes, kissing me before I even got the time to think of it. 

“Happy anniversary Spence.”

“Happy anniversary y/n.”

*

[pawsitivelymiraculous]

Damian, the baby assassin, Dupain-Cheng (Part 5)

Hellooo everyone! I'm... somewhat alive. I'm so sorry this took so long to update. Welp, I can't believe that this is the end of the first arc. Thank you guys so much for your support.I wouldn't have been able to get this far without all of you. I´m so excited for whats to come. Also Tysm @beautiful-disasters-sunshine​ for beta reading this!

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So, recap

Marinette kidnapped/adopted Damian after seeing him with Talia in the Miraculous Café. She gives him the choice between staying with her or a non assassin relative. He chooses to stay in hopes of stealing the miracle box, but since that didn’t work he lashed out and tried to kill Marinette and her friends repeatedly. This makes Marinette doubt in herself because she feels guilty about the whole situation. After hearing Marinette cry, Damian runs away confused at the whole situation, but he didn't get far before realizing that he was actually okay with the idea of Marinette becoming his mother. Marinette finds him and they go home.

After that, Damian began to feel more comfortable around Marinette. 

Their dynamic changed. No longer was Damian desperately trying to escape, and now that the walls he had built had almost completely crumbled Marinette began to learn more about the boy she considered her son.

For example, she learned that he liked art. 

The moment she found out she ran to her favorite craft store and bought all sorts of things ranging from paints and canvases to a couple of sketch books and a variety of pencils.

Damian, of course, tried to tell her how unnecessary it was. 

But Marinette ignored him.

She cleared a corner of her studio where she kept all of her sewing machines and the commissions she was working on, and set up the new supplies.

The two could be found on most afternoons peacefully sketching and painting in that room while munching on the leftover pastries from the café.

Another regular activity was to go out to various places to get inspiration for said projects. Whether it was an outdoors market, or a quaint town bordering Paris, Marinette loved to show Damian all her favorite places to visit whenever she needed inspiration.

She loved to see how his brow furrowed in concentration as he sketched. How he used his natural ability to pick up on little details and used it to make beautiful pieces of art.

And of course being the proud mom she was, Marinette hung up all the paintings all around the house, despite Damian's protests. She even taped some of his sketches on her side of the "Creative Room", as Marinette liked to call it, to use as inspiration for her designs. 

Damian also continued to go to school. It took a lot of macarons and begging to let the principal of the school allow Damian to go back, and it only happened once they agreed to a reasonable punishment.

Marinette was rather relieved at how difficult it had been to convince them. 

It was reassuring to know that the faculty in the school she chose was willing to address the issue instead of turning a blind eye to someone with enough money like they had done when she had been in school.

Also, there was a new addition to the family.

Since seeing Damian look at a flyer of the animal shelter with interest, Marinette suspected that he liked animals more than he was willing to admit.

This was confirmed when she arrived home and found Damian trying to lure a dog out from under his bed.

Marinette obviously allowed Damian to keep the dog and almost burst into tears when for the first time, Damian called her "mom"

Together, they managed to get the dog to come out from where he had been hiding. The poor thing looked so frightened, and kept shying away when they got too close.

Marinette sang a soft lullaby that her mother had taught her hoping that it would help the dog calm down, and it did. 

Hesitantly, he walked closer to Damian and eventually let him pet him.

"You're a little survivor aren't you?" Marinette whispered. Looking at the dog who was now  falling asleep in Damian's gentle embrace.

A small smile graced Damian's face. "Naji. We must name him Naji" He murmured, taking Marinette by surprise. "It means 'survivor' in arabic. Naji has experienced a lot of difficulties, but yet he survived them all and he has now found his home." He explained.

Marinette didn't think he was only referring to the dog.

~♡~♡~♡~

Marinette paced nervously around the living room as she waited for it to be time to pick Damian up from school.

The reason she was so nervous was because she was hoping to ask Damian if he was okay with being adopted by her.

She had to pull some strings but after waiting for a long time she had finally gotten the permission she needed to legally adopt Damian.

The only question was if he was going to accept.

Naji walked over to her and laid at her feet making Marinette stop dead in her tracks. 

Despite being skittish around them, Naji had an uncanny ability to know when either Damian or Marinette was upset. He would usually try to sit near them and eventually he would allow one of them to pet him gently.

It was adorable if Marinette did say so herself.

Naturally, Marinette sat on the ground and patiently waited for Naji to approach her. Meanwhile, she closed her eyes and made herself relax.

It was all going to be okay. If Damian didn't like the idea then that would be fine. It wouldn't change her love for him and hopefully the proposal wouldn't make him draw back to himself.

Naji sat on her lap as she continued to calm herself down.

Finally, Marinette glanced at her watch and saw that it was time to pick Damian up. Giving Naji one final pat, she stood up and got her keys.

The pep talk she had just given herself had become a sort of mantra for her. 

When Marinette arrived at Damian's school, she noticed that Damian was with another kid his age. Damian looked somewhat bored as the boy talked.

Nonetheless, Marinette could only feel pride as Damian continued to listen to the boy.

Taking notice of her, Damian excused himself and walked to the car.

"So, I see you made a new friend." Marinette said after exchanging greetings. She was unable to keep a teasing tone out of her voice.

Damian frowned, "I was merely tolerating his presence. I would hardly call that a friendship." 

"Yeah, sure. Keep telling that to yourself honey." Marinette replied with a grin. "Anyways, how was school today?"

Marinette listened to him as he told her what he had done throughout the day. When he was done Damian noticed that they were going the wrong way. He told her as much.

"Your right mon petit oiseau"  Marinette sighed as she pulled over. "Damian, I have something important to talk to you about." 

Damian looked at her, a hint of worry seeped into his eyes. "Is there something wrong, Maman?" 

Marinette's heart swelled at the name, it gave her the confidence she needed for what she was going to say next. 

"Damian, I love you as my own son. That- that's what you are to me… my son." Damian's concern grew as tears started to roll down Marinette's cheeks. "And I don't care for technicalities or anything," she continued, grabbing Damian's hands between her own. "But… I would like to legally adopt you."

~♡~♡~♡~

Damian could only stare at Marinette in shock.

Being legally adopted by her was something he had never actually considered. He knew how complicated that would be, but if she was asking then… maybe it was possible? 

He thought about what it would mean. Perhaps he could change his last name and leave behind his grandfather's legacy behind for once and for all. 

Damian didn't think he would ever be able to escape the league. For most of his life he didn't even want to. But Marinette had cared for him more than his own family had. 

It would be incredibly stupid not to accept. So with that in mind, Damian made up his mind.

"I… I am not opposed to this idea Maman." Relief flooded Marinette's features "Though I must ask how you managed to make it possible?"

Marinette choked out a small laugh. "Let's just say I'm very persuasive and I have friends in high places."

Yeah, that made sense. 

Their time in the courthouse passed by in a blur. When they walked out Damian felt... lighter. Like a weight had been lifted off from his shoulders.

This was his new beginning. Damian felt relieved because he had no doubt that with Marinette's guidance he would be able to right the wrongs he had committed. 

He no longer had to fend for his own because someone was going to be there for him. To protect him.

To love him.

And for the first time in his life Damian felt safe. 

Past Damian would probably be ashamed of that, but now? Now only felt joy. 

Because he was no longer Damian Al-ghul. 

He was Damian Dupain-Cheng.

~♡~♡~♡~ TAG LIST ~♡~♡~♡~

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