#and was told that while a fall from this height won’t kill them the amount of bones it would break would require Batman to get a bit more

[thefandomenchantress]

Headcanons About Ace and His Siblings!

I have…a surprising amount of these? So I figured I’d share them.

-I think he’d probably be third or fourth oldest in the sibling line-up.

-He’d probably be the ‘bad cop’ of the older siblings, being the strict one who stops the youngest (and sometimes his older siblings) from doing dangerous things…and not-so-dangerous things that he deems are too dangerous, due to his fear of pretty much everything. Since he overreacts a lot, this can lead to his siblings not taking his warnings seriously when they actually should for once, and later results in Ace telling them variations of ‘I told you so’ while patching them up.

-Despite the strictness mentioned above, thanks to his dumbass tendencies he’s also very easy to trick into letting his siblings do things they shouldn’t do, ironically enough.

-Ace always made an effort to not swear when any of his younger siblings were around (the struggle was real). Until one day his 8-year-old sister told him that he could swear around her, because older kids at school swore all the time and so she knew all of the swear words already. Without even asking to hear any proof of her supposed knowledge of all swear words, he believed her and accidentally taught her almost every swear word in existence. His older siblings were…unhappy with him, to say the least.

-Ace is a very light sleeper, so if one of his siblings tries to sneak out of the house, you can guarantee he knows. Much like how he didn’t tell anyone about David’s secret until he himself was being targeted with suspicion, he usually won’t snitch unless he is somehow negatively effected. This is also the case for basically everything rebellious his siblings do, (unless he thinks they’ll hurt themselves, then suddenly he’s all on their case about it).

-Ace takes copious amounts of time to get his hair just right every morning before school, so for all his siblings it’s basically a race to get to the bathroom before he does, because once he’s in there he’ll hog the bathroom for three times as long as any of them.

-One of his little sisters watched My Little Pony constantly and he hated it (read: was very scared of it because horses). Eventually prolonged exposure to the show made him get used to watching it, which makes it one of the few fears he’s managed to overcome.

-It was well-known Ace had a severe fear of thunderstorms in the Markey household, so sometimes when thunderstorms would happen at night, one of his younger siblings would claim they were scared and wanted to sleep by him, just because they knew the company comforted him.

-Since we know he has siblings but we don’t technically know what age any of his siblings are…I’m very compelled to headcanon that he has a tomboyish female twin. I think that would be cool.

-His older brother thought it was hilarious to constantly hide and then jump out and scare Ace, which led to Ace having intense paranoia whenever he walked around corners, opened closets, etc. whenever he was at home.

-Most of his siblings are on the taller side, which infuriates Ace to no end. He swears he’ll grow taller than his older sister one day, but he won’t. All his older siblings poke fun at his height, which unintentionally caused him to be extremely self conscious about it.

-Unless Ace’s parents are exetremely rich, I doubt they bought a house with eleven bedrooms, so Ace probably shared a room with at least one sibling. I think he’d sleep in a bunk bed, specifically the bottom bunk because he’s worried he’ll roll over in his sleep, fall off the bed, and get hurt if sleeps in the top one.

-His brother, who slept in the top bunk, snored really loud and Ace eventually got used to it being really loud as he fell asleep, so now that he’s in the killing game with his own room and no loud background noise, he’s finding falling asleep to be a bit harder.

-Lots of Ace’s clothes were hand-me-down from older siblings and were really baggy and ill-fitting for him, which is why he likes sporty clothing a lot. It’s more tight-fitting and since none of his older brothers got too into sports and therefore never bought sporty clothes, he got to buy his own clothes that were actually his size.

-Ace knows how to braid hair, since he had to braid his sisters’ hair a lot before school, and so now he knows a bunch of convoluted braiding techniques. He also has very basic sowing skills from having to patch up his younger siblings’ stuffed animals from time to time.

I might edit this post or reblog it later to add more, but that’s all I’ve got for now! Hope this was fun read!

[fallforfail]

I think it’s all the emerging from the shadows and casually breaking bones. I know that it creeps me out when anyone, even accidentally, appears out of the dark or from my blind spot. Bruce does both, on purpose, constantly. Bruce is deeply unhinged, and from Gotham to boot, and it’s tangible. He’ll start an interrogation off by breaking an arm, freeze an entire river without hesitation, or detonate a bomb simply as a distraction. He has to tell his coworkers that he has no powers and a no kill rule, they don’t know that until he tells them that. Bruce can reference things that are deeply personal to people he’s talking to, like for example their schedule and insecurities, when he’s at most a distant coworker they barely have conversations with. Usually he’s a complete stranger they’ve never even seen before. He’s extremely passionate, but doesn’t express that in most identifiable ways. Mainly just in intensity and work ethic, but when he does it’s usually rage. Batman keeps pace with Wonder Woman and Superman, two near gods, whom they all respect and admire. His rogue gallery specialize in mental and chemical warfare. Gotham is basically known as crime city. You don’t go to Gotham and expect not to be mugged. All 15 war crimes are constantly being committed in Gotham. Super villains avoid Gotham. Batman can, will, and does get into fist fights with teammates. And he won’t back down even if it’s Superman or Wonder Woman, which would give most others pause. Once he starts pursuing something it’s near impossible to stop him from chasing it down. The league sees him make threats to criminals, and then he carries them out. He straight up doesn’t understand what’s wrong about his ruthless behavior, that’s terrifying.

TLDR: If I ever found out I had worked with Marilyn Monroe in disguise for years and the only time I could ever remember seeing her grinning was after breaking the bones of twenty men in under three minutes, I’d be more terrified, not less.

The real reason Batman (derogatory) has to keep his secret identity hidden from the Justice League is because he’d just lose any level of intimidation afterwards.

Like imagine Batman’s being angry at you or being all cryptic but all you can see in your head is that time rich boy Bruce Wayne got so ‘drunk’ at a gala he started following Lex Luther around with an air horn that he could blow every time he started talking (the video got posted to YouTube).

Like there is no way you could take that guy seriously when you know that under that mask it’s Brucie Wayne. If the JL don’t mock him relentlessly every time he tries to be edgy I don’t want it

[shurisneakers]

harmless (ix)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, sex jokes, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: a lot of requests came in last week, so cool and thank you for sending them in!! i’ll try my best to write them if they weren’t originally what i had planned for this series bc they’re so cute kfjdghdf. also hey shoutout to @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ for suggesting the backstory thing! 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Additional Scene   || Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

Hot single in your area! 😈  Find your solemate! 

Somehow it bypasses Bucky’s spam folder and is in his primary email. SHIELD tech is too advanced to let fake mails like this reach him and this doesn’t make sense. Unless it was one of the stupid dating websites he signed up for.

Leaving aside the obvious typo in the subject, he clicks on it, hoping it doesn’t unleash a virus onto his computer. 

He’s instead greeted with a poorly Photoshopped picture of you at a bar with a martini in your hand. He doesn’t have to look too hard to see that the martini is, in fact, an emoji. Off to a terrible start already. 

Right beside it is an even worse image, an imitation of an early Internet chat box.

Harbinger of Doom just sent you a message! 

Come to the empty lot near lair. Bring goggles. 😩💦

Decline/Accept

He wants to strangle you. 

______

“Why did you curse my eyes so early in the morning?” He spots you at the top of the lair, speaking loudly so that it hopefully reached you. 

“What?” you yell back down instead. “If you’re saying something, I can’t hear you.”

He rolls his eyes. He pulls his phone from his pocket and presses on your contact. 

He watches the look of confusion morph into one of slight surprise when you reach into your pocket and pull out your call.

“Don’t ever send an image like that to me again,” he says directly.

“If that one image is too much for you, how will we ever make our sex tape?”

His mouth opens and shuts like goddamn fish.

He can hear your laughter even without the phone.

“First of all- stop laughing- first of all, a sex tape is never going to happen. Second of all, I have a debriefing to go to, we need to make this quick.”

He holds up a finger when he sees you begin to say something. By the look of trouble painted all over your face, he knows it’s going to be a dumb innuendo. 

“Thirdly, why are you standing there?”

“I watched The Last Airbender,” you say once your cackling dies down.

“I like that show.” He did. Peter sometimes watched it when he came over and Bucky more often than not joined in.

“I know, you told me.”

Oh. 

“Okay, what now?” 

“Put your goggles on.” You take one step towards the ledge. 

“What are you doing?” The goggles don’t do anything to shield him from the sun, considering that they’re not tinted. Maybe he could invest in those.

You send him a smile, taking a step further. His walk towards the building turns into a jog, then a sprint when you’re basically standing on the edge.

You spread your arms out like Jesus Christ himself before flinging yourself off the building. His stomach drops.

His phone falls to the ground, discarded to the side as he sprints to break your landing. 

It never comes. 

Instead, a gust of wind smacks him in the face, forcing him a few steps backwards. 

“I am now an air bender.” your eyes shone. “Kind of.”

Just like that, the show was ruined.

He wipes the dust on from his glasses that he now understands why you made him wear. Considerate, for a person who nearly just gave him a heart attack. 

“Why.” It’s not even a question, just a statement. 

“You know how the Tower has a giant ‘A’ on the side?” 

He stares at you. 

“I‘m gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of it.”

Pepper would not like that. 

“That’s not even evil.”

“Yeah, but it’d annoy your super friends,” You do a flip midair, testing out the repulsors that were tied around your palms, “and I’m the voice of the people.”

You’re too high for him to reach. He doesn’t have his tools, or anything useful on him considering that he never had to use them before. He couldn’t even launch himself at you from the side of the building because you’d just move out of the way. He could jump really high but it would just have the same consequence.

He could talk and keep you distracted but that worked once, it wouldn’t again. At least not for long. 

Fuck, he really had only one option. 

He leaves you to do your somersaults and turns, walking over to where he dropped his phone. It’s an upgrade from the brick he was using a while ago, but not a high end Stark model. A smartphone, but barely.

He sighs, punching in the number and holding it up to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” you yell from above him. 

“Go back to your shitty aerobics,” he yells back.

You pause for a second. “Was that a fucking pun, James Bar-”

The dial tone ends when someone picks up. He diverts his attention back to the call.

“Hey man, I-

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“It’s probably something stupid,” Sam doesn’t even sound annoyed, just uninterested.

“I need your wings.”

“I was right. Bye.”

It was a long shot anyway.

“Fuckin’ hold on a second.” He sees you disintegrate a concrete block by having it drop from the air. “You come here and fix this, then. She’s air bending now.”

“...like Avatar?” Sam unsurprisingly got the reference. 

Peter’s interests were usually shared by everyone in the Tower, just because they had to compensate for the teasing he had to endure. It led to a lot of geeky documentaries and occasional musicals. Bucky wouldn’t be caught dead humming songs from Thoroughly Modern Millie under his breath. 

“Yeah.”

“You want me to come and fight your girlfriend,” he says slowly. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bucky urges, “and yes, I need help. Can’t exactly reach her when she’s twenty feet above me.”

“We have a briefing in 30 minutes. Why did you even go there today?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Just looks up at you smacking one of the repulsors against your thigh when it sputters for a second. It’s tradition. 

“Well?” Bucky ignores his question.

“Fine,” Sam’s voice is distant for a second as he agrees. “Clint’s asking if he can come too.”

“Fuck no.” One of them was more than enough and Sam was way better at negotiation. 

He hears a faint profanity from who he assumed was Clint before the call cuts.

He takes a seat on the ground and waits.

“You’re not going to make any effort to stop me?” You have your arms pressed to your side, palms pointed downwards to keep you afloat.

 “I could just throw things at you again.” He makes a mention towards the small pebbles.

“I will fuck you up if you even try,” you warn. He lifts his arms in surrender. “So that’s it. You’re just going to sit there.”

“To be honest, I couldn’t care less if you painted the building,” he says with the least amount of interest he could muster, not that that was very hard.

“Do you not like your team?” 

“I do.” He isn’t lying. “But they’re little shits.”

“I can draw a couple of dicks on their window, no problem,” you say offhandedly.

He looks up at you through his fingers. “That won’t be required.”

Although it was appreciated. 

“Cool, so then I’m gonna go.” You make a mention of the utility belt on your waist. He looks at the many spray cans that decorate it. 

“What colour are you going with?” he interrupts quickly. Fuckin’ Sam. What was the point of wings if he couldn’t get here in 2 minutes?

“Red, probably.” You look down. “I got purple and white just in case.”

“Building’s dark, red is good.”

“You really don’t care, do you?” You lower yourself down to the ground, a few feet ahead of him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” For fucks’ sake, Sam. “You really don’t like superheroes, do you?”

“I don’t have anything against them.”

“Then why do you do this every week?”

This was wading into personal territory and he did not like it. 

“Well.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Because I want to. It’s fun.”

“No other reason?”

“Do I need to have another reason?” You push your palm downwards, sending you back up into the air. “Can’t I just be evil because I want to?”

“Sure,” he says. He’s heard worse reasons. “Why not?”

“Besides, if you think I don’t like superheroes then you should meet Jake.”

“Who’s Jake?” He hadn’t ever heard you mention him before because he’d remember if you had.

“My roommate.” 

“I didn’t see him when I came over.”

“That’s because we’re not conjoined at the hip.” It takes you a second to stabilise. “Besides, he grabbed the water while I got the bracelet but he refused to come say hi.”

Bucky looked down at his wrist. It was still there. He found himself fidgeting with it more often than not.

“He hates superheroes?”

“He has a valid reason.” Your eyes widen in worry when your head suddenly dips. 

“What is it?” He knows the height at which you’re at isn’t very dangerous but if need be, he’s close by. 

“Come find out.” Your eyes shone mischievously. “But yeah, no reason for me to be evil.”

“Not even a tragic backstory?” 

“None. But if you want it, I can give you one, Barnes.” You test the waters, seeing how long you can lie horizontally. “Can’t promise you’ll like it though.”

“Try me.” He has time to kill. He’s a good listener.

“Well, it all started with my family- a troop of gorillas.” You flip over to lie on your back. “They practically raised me, they did. Until my gorilla mother died and I was all but consumed by grief and-”

“Your mother was a gorilla?” He entertains the notion. 

“Or was it my father?” you ask thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I don’t remember. Anyway, I met a-”

“Just to clarify, none of this is real, right?” he interjects. 

You stare at him. He stares at you.

“Bucky, that’s the plot of Tarzan,” you say slowly, “or at least whatever I remember of it... which I’m beginning to realise isn’t much.”

“Just clarifying.” He leans back again.

“Anyway so then when my mother, the deer-”

“Gorilla.”

“Whatever. Was killed, I escaped to some place-”

“Where?”

“Somewhere. And I stayed with these seven men-”

“Why seven?” He actually remembers watching this movie with his sister when it came out. An early memory, a bit faded. He remembers how long he saved up for the ticket.

“Because character development. And then I realised the reason my life was so weird was because there was a rat controlling me by pulling on my hair-”

“What the fuc-”

“If you ask any more questions, I’m going to stop.”

Bucky blinks at you. “So that’s your backstory.” 

“Raw and uncut, baby.”

“Just to get this straight, your mother, the gorilla deer-”

“Witch.”

“Huh?”

“She was a witch who stole my hair.”

“Wha-”

He’s interrupted by the giant shadow cast by something that flies overhead. 

Fucking finally. 

He doesn’t even have to look up. Sam does a small glide to the ground, landing gracefully beside him.

Bucky finds you speechless but straightened up from your earlier posture.

“Buck,” Sam greets him.

“Sam,” he says in return, getting up from his place. 

A grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Sam Wilson. No way.”

“You’re Y/N, I’m assuming?” Sam offers, posture relaxed. He clearly wasn’t here to fight. 

“The one and only.” You tear your eyes away from Sam to glare at Bucky. “Barnes, if you had told me we were expecting guests, I would have dressed better.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows in suspicion at you. You’d dress up for Sam. 

You dressed up like a suburban tourist dad for him. He was feeling the offence incoming. 

“Can’t count on him to be useful in any situation.” Alright, he did not call Sam just to have the both of you team up against him. 

“Normally I’d agree with you but he did just invite you here, so...” you trail off, looking at Sam expectantly. 

What the shit.

Sam smirks. Bucky switches rapidly back and forth between the both of you.

“I see why Buck keeps coming back every week.” It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, enlisting a feeling of triumph from you. 

“I can’t see why he doesn’t just stay at home everyday if this is the view.” You gesture to him.

This is not what Bucky wanted.

“Okay,” Bucky interrupts, “what is going on here?”

“Pure chemistry, I’d say.” You’re half tempted to bite your lip to seal the deal.

“I agree.” Sam just nods, completely and utterly serious. 

You think that you’ll give him a gift basket just for playing along despite meeting you for the first time at that moment. 

“Get a room.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Maybe we will.” You tap your finger against your lip in thought. “How do you feel about Indian food, Sam?”

“Very positively.” 

Bucky grits his teeth. “If you’re not planning to spray paint the Tower, can you just hand over the repulsers so we can go home for the day?”

You let out a small tsk in disapproval. “See what I have to deal with?”

“Can’t imagine how you do it every weekend,” Sam says dryly, not wasting a second in replying. 

“Hello?” Bucky waves his arm around. “She’s the villain here.”

“Your face is the villain here.” You tear your eyes away from Sam only to glare at him. “He won’t even wear a cape. Why am I the only one who brings their A-Game every week?”

“Sam just get the damn-”

“You should wear a cape, man.” Bucky’s absolutely sure that even Sam knows it’s a ridiculous idea.

“I’m not wearing a fuckin’ cape,” he grumbles. 

“What are your thoughts on swords, then?” Your finger finds a place under your chin in deep contemplation. “You’d look great with a sword.”

Bucky buries his face in his palms. “Sam, for the love of God.” 

“Okay, alright.” Sam finally gives in with a small chuckle. He runs a few steps to get a small head start before launching himself into the air, whizzing past your levitating figure. He does a neat little flip midair before matching your height.

Showoff.

“How difficult are you gonna make this, Wilson?” you ask, a smirk on your face.

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky exhales, looking at the both of you through his goggles. 

“What’s your play here?” Sam calls out loudly.

“Was gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of the Tower.”

“After the ‘A’?”

“After the ‘A’,” you confirm. 

“Now that’s too small,” Sam tutted. “You gotta think bigger. Paint the whole Tower.” 

“Sam!” Bucky looks horrified. 

“Hmm.” You look like you’re considering it. “Don’t have enough paint for that though.”

“You’re an evil genius, right?” Sam casts a small glance at Bucky. “At least that’s what he tells me.”

“You talk about me?” You grin at the disgruntled man on the ground. 

“I don’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. A lie.

“Yeah, so build something,” Sam points out. “Get some more paint. I’ll even tell you the best vantage points to spill it.”

“No, he won’t,” Bucky shouts from below. 

“He’s just cranky because he didn’t get his prune juice this morning, ignore him,” Sam dismisses him.

Prune juice? He was a young 100, not ancient. 

“What’s your favourite colour, Falcon?”

“I like red.”

As annoyed as Bucky is right now, he stores that away in his memory for later. He also knows Sam loves seafood and a good pair of shoes. 

“A couple of gallons of red paint it is, then.” You lower yourself to the ground, Sam slowly follows suit until he lands beside Bucky.

“You know we can’t let you go without taking those, right?” Bucky tilts his head towards your invention.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t budge.

“I’ll tell ya what,” Sam pipes in instead. “I’ll keep them until you finish getting the paint and once you’re done, we’ll make an evening out of vandalising the Tower.” 

Bucky may not enjoy his company all that much but he admires Sam’s diplomacy. Of course, you would never make it this easy while reasoning with him.

“That a promise, Mr. Wilson?” You raise your eyebrow at him questioningly but are already in the process of removing the things from your hand. 

“Wouldn’t ever lie to you, doll.” He holds up his hand in a mock swear.

You walk towards Bucky and him, rotating your wrists to get rid of the soreness. “Bold claim for a man who met me ten minutes ago.”

“Feels like it’s been longer.” He sends you a wink and you can’t stop the laugh the escapes from you finally. 

Bucky holds his hand out for the gadgets. You shrink away from him with a click of your tongue.

“Technically, he takes this round.” You send a nod towards Sam, dropping off the repulsors into his hand. “So he gets it.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“You gonna keep ‘em safe?” you ask Sam, this time a little more earnestly. 

“Guard it with my life,” he says seriously, pressing his lips together in a line to avoid smiling. 

“You’re both ridiculous,” Bucky cuts in.

“You’re going to be late.” Sam tucks the devices into his pocket safely. “You know how Steve gets when people walk in on his speeches. Do you even have a ride?”

“Got the motorcycle.” 

“See you there.” Sam nods. 

“Save me a place,” Bucky says to him.

“No.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Y/N. It was a pleasure.”

“Still holding you to that evening, Sam.” You send him a smile.

“I’m countin’ on it.” He gives you a small three finger salute before taking off, leaving you staring after his retracting figure. 

When the dust settles, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat. “Right. So that was that.”

“Dude,” you let out an exhale. “he’s so hot.”

He murmurs something unintelligible. It vaguely sounds like a series of threats but mostly a list of complaints.

“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” You turn your attention back to him.

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you going to be late?” You glance at the clock on your phone.

“I’ll just tell them I was on a mission.” Well, sort of. “Besides, what are they gonna do? Kick me out?”

“Fair enough.” You shrug. “Have a safe ride back.”

From what he knows of you and Sam, the both of you were kidding around. But he could never be too sure. He can’t even ask if you were serious about the entire thing because it’s none of his business. 

Were the implications of having his mortal nemesis and other mortal nemesis date important enough to overrule that? 

“Are you planning to skip your meeting, or?” you ask when he remains freezes in his spot, eyes glazed over like he’s thinking about something. “Because if you are, I know this great Thai place-”

“Don’t do that again,” he says instead, shaking his head to jolt him out of his thoughts. 

“What?”

“Flinging yourself off roofs like that.”

“Why?” Because it scared the hell out of him, for one.

“Just don’t.”

“Oh please, like you’ve never done dangerous shit like that before.” You narrow your eyes at him, reading his face. “Are you telling me you care about me?”

“No.” His nose twitches. “Just don’t throw yourself off buildings when I’m around.”

“What about when you’re not?”

“As long as I’m not there to witness it.” He shrugs, spinning on his heel to leave. Technically he preferred if you didn’t do things like that at all. 

“Fine. I’ll just have my clone try out all the dangerous stuff for me.”

 He stops in his tracks. “You have a clone?”

“Well,” You squint, “no. But I’m working on it.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Bye Y/N.”

“You know, it sounds an awful lot like you’re saying we’re friends.” Your whole demeanour changes and he already knows what’s coming.

“I never said that,” he argues vehemently. “All I said was that I can’t have your murder on my hands.”

“Thus implying that we’re friends. In a fucked up, enemies kind of way.” You positively beam at him. “Aw, Barnes, that’s adorable.”

Adorable? Adorable?

“I hate you.”

“I love you, too, bestie,” you gush, dumb grin on your face. “I’ll make us friendship rings next time. What are your thoughts on matching tattoos?”

He wants to cry. 

______

By the time Sam walks into the meeting room, the session’s already begun. He shoots an apologetic look to a monologuing Steve before taking his place at the nearest chair available. 

Something sharp pokes his thigh. His wings are off and in the backpack beside him, but then he remembers your little inventions that were still in his pocket.

He tries not to make much of a noise while he pulls them out, giving them a look over to make sure they’re not broken.

“Watcha got there, Big Bird?” Tony asks lowly from beside him.

“Something that Barnes’ enemy made.” Sam holds it up slightly. 

“The one he’s been rendezvousing around town with every weekend?” 

“That’s her.” He’s about to put it in his backpack when Tony stops him.

“Pass that here for a second.” He recognises it immediately for what it is, interest piqued. 

Sam hands one of them over while he puts the other back in the bag. It’s a metallic circle, not bigger than Tony’s palm, with a thick leather strap to tie it around your palm.

“She made this?” 

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sam mentions towards Bucky who silently slips into the conference room, standing in the corner near the potted plant since there were no more chairs left.

“The balance has gotta be off on this thing,” he mutters to himself, wholly ignoring the brooding man standing in the corner like a Christmas tree.

“She seemed to be manoeuvring it fine,” Sam catches the eye of a lower ranking agent who makes the mistake of glaring at him for talking while the meeting was going on. A few seconds later the agent hastily looks away and doesn’t turn around for the rest of the hour. 

“Could be better.” He uses a much more intricate model for his suits, although this isn’t even half-bad for a homemade version. “Do you know how long she took to make this?”

“Buck says she comes up with a new one every week, so I’m guessing that long.” 

It had a few glitches but it was incredibly refined for a week’s worth of work.

“Interesting.” He gives it a quick overlook before handing it back to Sam who drops it into the bag.

He casts a swift glance at Bucky, noting how he wasn’t even paying attention to the meeting but rather to whatever he had tied around his metal wrist, fidgeting with it with his thumb. 

Tony has an idea. 

And that was generally bad news.

Next part

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

I'm sorry if I'm bothering but I cant stop thinking about the brothers reacting to the mcs family accepting them as mcs bf before and after they find out the bro is a demon

The Brothers When MC’s Family Accepts Them As Demons (Headcanons)

These got super long, so I’m gonna put them under the cut. Thanks for the request, this was super fun to do. 

Lucifer 

The amount of stress he had going into this was ridiculous. He didn’t want to meet your family in the first place, he thought it was unnecessary and he would have much rather they not knew that he and you were dating. You insisted though, and he begrudgingly agreed to meet them when you went back up to the human world for your birthday. Everything was going fine until you slipped up and used his full name, and he was honestly… relieved. He had hated the stupid nickname you had given to him… “Luci”. It made him cringe, but nobody really named their child Lucifer, so apparently it was necessary. That one slip though, and he froze up, waiting for your parents to freak out… but they didn’t. Honestly, he wondered if your parents were even listening, but then your dad tried to make a dad joke. “So Lucifer, what was the fall like? Just joking, glad you could join us.” Confused. Kind of worried about your parents judgement, because, of course he loves you and wouldn’t want anyone to get in between the two of you… your parents are just… okay?With you dating a demon? Might need to take the second that your parents didn’t take. 

Mammon 

Not really all for meeting your family, but then again, that could be another way of getting free gifts or money. Definitely decides that he wants to meet them around Christmas, and make sure to let them know that you’re bringing your boyfriend, and that he likes gold anything or just flat out cash. He was nervous, but he wouldn’t let that show. Obviously The Great Mammon doesn’t get nervous, not around some measly humans. But these humans, these humans were important to you, and if he didn’t make a good impression, well… he could handle his brothers talking bad about him, but your family was a whole different thing. Christmas morning seemed to be going along without a hitch, the two of you had decided to just call each other by pet names so his real name wouldn’t slip… that is until his greediness started to show and he started pestering your parents about what he got. You lightly smacked his arm, whispering his name, hoping that your family didn’t hear you. “Oh, Mammon? Like the demon of greed Mammon?” Uhm… why weren’t your parents freaking out? “Don’t worry. We didn’t really know what to get you, so we just decided on money. I’m sure you won’t mind.” He’s on a whole new level of shook. Your family is so chill, he wants to come back for every holiday. 

Leviathan 

Getting him to leave his own bedroom was a job on its own. Trying to get him to agree to meet your family was a whole new level of difficult. There was no need for it, they won’t like him, he’s a loser… he gave all these excuses, and although none of them were true to you, he believed them to be true. You were on the verge of giving up and he saw that, he saw that you were upset about it, and he didn’t want to be the reason for you being upset so he finally said that he would. Only for a day trip though. His anxiety was already through the roof and he didn’t want to be stuck in a house of a bunch of people he didn’t know longer than 24 hours. That was no problem for you though as your family was having a small get together. It was a cookout and there would be a pool and everything, just a pleasant day of family fun. That’s how you sold it to him, and although he was still reluctant, he liked the idea of a pool. So now, here you were, goofing off in the pool. He was pushing you around the pool in a little donut raft, and he decided it would be funny to flip you off of it. You squealed his name when you came up from out of the water, forgetting for a second where you were, and your entire family was looking at the two of you now. “Leviathan… I know I heard that name before… isn’t that that one demon who…” “Doesn’t matter what he is, they’re both having fun. Burgers are up in five minutes, kiddos.” They’re not… shocked? Not running for the hills, having a panic attack. Nope, just burgers. He finally feels like he can really relax now, and that’s all that matters. 

Asmodeus

Pfft, worried? Not him. People love him. Your parents will too, he was sure of it. He was all for visiting your parents, actually, he was the one who brought it up. You were about to visit your mom for her birthday, and he decided that he wanted to come along too, since he’d never met your family before. He felt like you were hiding him and he didn’t like that feeling, so now he was coming to your mom's birthday and he even picked her out a gift. Obviously it was self-care set, but what else was he going to get her? It’s Asmo. Of course, your mother loves him immediately. He’s kind and he’s gentle and soft spoken, and he keeps calling her beautiful. He was a charmer, and everything was going great. The entire party went flawlessly, and you both thought that you’d get through the day without anyone finding out that your boyfriend was in fact a demon. That is, until your mother stopped the two of you for goodbye hugs, and she decided to become curious about his name. “Is Asmo your full name, or is it short for something else?” She was so inquizitive, and you bit your lip, hoping that he’d just agree that Asmo was his name, but, he had no shame. He told her that it was short for Asmodeus, and at first she looked shocked, but then she just shrugged. “Hmm, well… isn’t that something. You two get home safely, and come back soon, okay?” At first he thought that she just didn’t know who he was, but you explained to him that she knew, she just didn’t care. He kind of had a feeling it would happen that way though, so he was just as happy as he was before he came up to visit. 

Satan 

He’ll agree to visit your parents, you don’t have to bribe him, convince him, nothing. He just wants you to call him by his real name. He said he would be on his best behaviour, and that your family would have no reason to hate him unless they’re judging him strictly off of his name, but if that’s the case, then they’re shit anyway and he doesn’t want to associate with them. It was a Fathers Day party, and you were on edge the entire time. Your parents weren’t judgemental at all, but the name, his name alone would freak anyone out. He was a true gentleman, shaking your fathers hand and having regular conversations with him about different books that they’ve read. Things were great, and then dinner came along. Satan and your dad were still talking amongst themselves when he stopped in the middle of his sentence. “You know, Y/N never did tell us your name. Things have just been so busy, I’m sorry about that.” Satan didn’t hold back, he almost too proudly stated his name to your father, like he was expecting some type of freak out. It was your mom who chuckled lightly, shaking her head. “Ah, leave it to Y/N to date Satan. Well, everyone seems happy in the relationship, who am I to judge?” And with that everyone went back to eating. You were more shocked than Satan was, he just seemed really smug now, continuing his conversation with your dad. It felt like a giant weight had been lifted off your shoulders. 

Beelzebub 

Halloween, you chose Halloween. There was candy involved and he seemed excited about it. He was always so sweet and you really felt like you had nothing to worry about with him, how could anyone not like Beel? He was a big teddy bear, an absolute sweetheart. He wasn’t even nervous about meeting your family, and there was no reason for him to be. When he walked into your house everyone greeted him with open arms, warm welcomes, and soft smiles. Honestly, the only thing intimidating about him was his height, but everyone quickly got over that and it even became a sort of joke between him and your dad. “Oh, watch your head there, pal. If Y/N would have told me you were so tall I would have raised the archways a little more.” Dad jokes, and while you were embarrassed whenever your dad said anything, Beel seemed to love it. When snack trays went out, Beel devoured everything almost immediately, and it was only when he had cleared the entire table that he realized what he did, smiling sheepishly at you. Your family was clearly… concerned. Beel decided to take it upon himself to explain everything since you seemed so worried, and his plan was, if they freaked out, he’d just take you back to the Devildom to celebrate Halloween there. It was quite the opposite though, and your mom actually seemed relieved that there was a reason for him eating so much. “That makes so much sense. I was getting worried that someone wasn’t feeding you. Well, you can always come home anytime for dinner, alright?” So happy, he’s so happy. Ends up changing into his demon form for a Halloween costume which amazes everyone. He asks to visit your family at least once a week for dinner now. It’s a second home to him. 

Belphegor

Why visit your family when he can just sleep? Sleep is life. He’ll probably just zonk out at your parents house anyway, but that wasn’t the point. You wanted him to at least meet your parents once. They had asked you to come home, and you had told them before that you had a boyfriend and they really wanted to meet him too. It wasn’t particularly hard to say no to you, it’s just that he didn’t like hurting your feelings, and he felt like it was the least he could do considering he did… kill you once. He really did do his best to stay awake, not for your parents, but for you. He didn’t want you to think he was rude for falling asleep at the dinner table, which almost happened. Once everyone moved into the living room though, he couldn’t help himself. Leaning against your shoulder he slowly dozed off and your mom noticed immediately. “Just like your father, able to fall asleep anywhere and everywhere.” You heard Belphie scoff quietly, deciding that he would throw out a joke about being Belphegor, the Demon of Sloth. Of course, you knew that it wasn’t a joke, and you tensed up, waiting for your mom’s reaction to it. “Oh, well, that makes sense now. Do you need a pillow, or a blanket? A warm cup of tea?” He peaked one eye open, staring at your mom for a second before looking up at you and declining, almost too politely. He was kind of bummed out that your mom wasn’t scared of him. There was no fun in it. At least he got to nap a little longer though, and she brought him a cup of tea anyway, so he was still winning in the end. All is well that ends well.

[time-eclipse]

Gymnopedie No.1 (Donna Beneviento X reader)

You had known Donna Beneviento since you were both very young children. You never separated from her side. You loved her with all your heart and you promised your insecure friend that you would never leave her.

You had been there for her through out the death of her family. It was a dark time filled with nothing but heartbreak and sadness. Then Mother Miranda showed and she, for whatever reason, didn't approve of you seeing Donna. Donna begged Mother Miranda to let you stay once the feathered woman had adopted the young Beneviento. And after years of constant begging, Mother Miranda couldn't keep you apart. So, she gave in. You were extremely grateful that Mother Miranda had accepted. If you went home they would call you awful names because of your disability.

How you got the disability? You were walking in the village but you were attacked by one of the lycans before you could react. It managed to scratch your face before it was shot by Lucy, one of the members of the village. Unfortunately, the event left you blind. Lucy helped you back to the Beneviento Manor.

Donna was extremely stressed when she saw you and Lucy at her door, you bleeding out in front of her. Her shaking hands trembled as she took you from Lucy and thanked her quietly. Donna stayed with you that night. Holding you close. Her last human friend was nearly killed... And she couldn't do anything. You repeatedly that dreadful night. All the years you were there for her and she could finally be there for you.

Now here you are. Sitting in a carriage with your friend, on the way to the Dimitrescu castle. You placed your hand on top of Donna's when you felt were it was. She squeezed it. "Are we there yet!?" Angie, Donna's doll, complained. Donna sighed. "Donna!!" Angie huffed. "Fine I'm gonna sit on Blake's knee!" She hissed and you felt movement beside you before a small amount of weight on your knee making you chuckle fondly.

Donna squeezed your hand tighter. "What's wrong, Donna?" You asked with worry in your voice.

Donna pulled her hand away making you frown. "Nothing is wrong... I'm sorry. Just promise me something?" she question softly as always. Her voice was a gentle piano to you. It soothed you in every way.

You took noticed that Angie had stilled and was extremely quiet. It caught you off guard and put you on edge. "Yes?" you said, preparing yourself for what the veiled woman would say.

"Blake, promise me... That you won't leave me." She said and retook your hand tightly. Almost possessively. You took in a breath. This sounded like more of a beg than a request. You smiled putting your doubts in a jar.

You put your hand over your heart and swore to her. You would never leave Donna. No matter what life threw at you.

The carriage stopped when you arrived. You notice that Donna began to sweat slightly. The slight shake in her hand was enough to tell you that she was nervous. "We can wait a minute if you like?" you offered. Donna looped her arm in yours.

"No.. Its alright. We just need to go and eat then hopefully leave after I take Lady Dimitrescu's measurements." she replied and held you closer. Heat rose to your cheeks. You mentally scowled yourself. Donna didn't like you back... You were just friends and how it hurt.

You could hear... Nothing. Everything was deadly silent. Too silent. It made you pull Donna and Angie towards you. You heard Donna take in a shallow breath when your hand touched her hips. Your blush grew in embarrassment and you changed your hand position.

You could smell blood lingering in the air. Donna had informed you about all the Lords. Dimitrescu was the one family name that you were the most scared of.

Donna took the lead and lead you to the doors of the castle. "Donna!" a voice rang making you jump. "You came and you brought a guest!" you noticed Donna tighten her grip on you. Any tighter and you would have burst.

Angie wiggled away from your grip and you heard her patter away. "This is Lady Blake! She's Donna's best friend!! But don't you dare forget I'm better than her, tall one!" Angie shouted like an angry squirrel.

"My name is Lady Dimitrescu, doll!" the voice, Lady Dimitrescu, hissed in a bitter tone. Angie laughed and walked back over to you. Donna had told you about Lady Dimitrescu and her short temper but her incredibly tall height. You were also told that the lady Dimitrescu and Heisenberg didn't get on well... Didn't get on at all. "If you'd like to follow me, Donna, we'll have dinner first then you can take my measurements." she said and led the three of you to... Somewhere else.

Right away, you could smell all kinds of food. You hears some buzzing in the background. Donna took you to a chair and sat beside you. Immediately, you very subtlety began to feel around to get used to your new surroundings.

The buzzing got louder. Until you felt a hand on your shoulder. "Mother! You didn't tell us that Donna had a human pet!" A voice chuckled in your ear. You shivered a little. "she is so pretty mother!" the same voice laughed in kind. "What's your name, little one? Mine is Bela!" she said and touched you shoulder.

You smiled slightly. "My name is Blake" you replied. Then the two of you jumped into a pleasent conversation. You had to explain to her about your disability. The young dimitrescu was surprising very supportive and kind to you. Dinner was a blast! You and Bela got along really well. Perhaps a little too well...

Something wasn't right. You felt someone glaring at you. Like sharp daggers were been thrown at you. The only problem was that you couldn't tell who. "I think I should take your measurements now, Alcina!" Donna suddenly snapped. It made you jump. You had never heard Donna so angry before. It scared you. It was so out of character for her. Lady Dimitrescu hummed and you heard the clicking of heels walk far into the distance. Did you do something wrong?

°°°

When you returned to the Manor, no one said a word. Not even Angie. It put you on edge. You hated it. You couldn't sleep that night. Donna or Angie didn't even say goodnight to you! That hurt like a tone of bricks.

The next day you walked around the Manor with frightened eyes. "D-donna? Angie?" you stuttered. You had been calling them all morning. Why didn't they come to you? Donna would normally be by your side in less than a minute.

For the next few weeks you felt lonely. Like there was a heavy cloud hanging over your head. You heard shuffling in the background. You had assumed that it was just Donna's dolls but you heard footsteps. Real human footsteps. "Donna!?" You called out desperately. The footsteps stopped. It became agonising so that she was avoiding you. You burst into tears. You didn't know what you did wrong! "Donna? Please?" you begged between a torn sob. There was no reply but you did feel a little wooden hand against your arm. "Angie?" you said hopefully.

"Are you okay, Blakey?" Angie asked. You could actually hear the concern in her voice. It surprised you a little. You were expecting something sarcastic like 'Why such the sour face, B?' you were glad that the doll was actually concerned about your wellbeing.

You didn't answer. You couldn't. All you could think about was Donna. Did she hate you? No... Donna doesn't hate anyone... But then why the silent treatment? It was going to drive to you mad. She had never been angry with you. With a deep cry, you stood and ran back to your room. Angie shouted after you but to fail.

Once in your room, you began sobbing deeply into your pillow. You decided that you wanted to listen to some music. You felt around for your favourite CD and began to blast some depressing songs. Some were gentle and reminded you of Donna. It made you sob louder and louder until....

There was creak. You assumed it was the door. "Blake?" you immediately recognised the gentle voice. Donna! You flung up and called her name in hope. You felt weight beside you. Delicate hands wrapped around your form. "I-" you cut her off with a sob.

"What did I do, Donna?" you asked through your tears. "Why are you mad at me? Please tell me so I can fix it!" you begged, your voice breaking in several places. You noticed Donna tense. You hugged her close. Not wanting to let go of your friend. Wow... You never noticed how much the word 'friend' stung before.

Donna slowly relaxed and touched your cheek. "I wasn't mad..." She mumbled, pulling you closer. "I was scared." she admitted. Your brows furrowed and you were about to say something when she caught you off. "I didn't want you to leave me..." a sniffle came from Donna. In that moment, you had forgotten about all your saddeness. Donna mattered to you. You didn't want her to be sad You felt then reached for her veil. She pulled away. You frowned. She grabbed your hand and held it close to her heart. "I can't let you leave... You're all I have left. When I saw you and Bela..." a realisation hit you. You felt so stupid.

"Donna, I couldn't leave you even if I wanted to... You mean the world to me!" You promised and removed her veil before she had time to react. "Lady Donna Beneviento, I-" you stopped and choked on your words. You were scared to tell her. However, when she placed her hand on your cheek, you knew you had to tell her. "Donna... I love you..." you squeezed your eyes. "You are my world..." you finished and let the tears fall.

You expected something harsh in return. More silent treatments. However, you felt Donna weave her fingers through your hair. You leaned into her gentle embrace. You felt safe. Suddenly, you were pulled forward and your lips crashed onto hers. They were soft and tasted like cherry. She let you lead the kiss. Neither of you had ever done this with anyone before. You could feel her smile against your lips. "I love you too, My doll." she muttered shyly once you had both pulled away.

"ABOUT TIME!" Angie squealed happily while, you assumed, clapping her tiny wooden hands. You jumped slightly before laughing it off. Donna sighed deeply and pulled you closer to her. You smiled and cuddled closer. "LET ME IN!!!!" Angie hissed and snuggled in between the both of you. This was your little family and no harm would come to it for as long as you remained.

++++

Any requests? Let me know.

[writingoneshots]

Hi how are you? Just saw your answer. I just wanted to ask if you could write a fic where Killer falls for Kid's lil sister and he is afraid of telling her. But she likes Killer too and he is all cute with her while the crew makes fun of them and one day they end up locked alone, they confess and Kids finds them kissing or something. Thank you for the attention and sorry for the bothering or if anything of the request does not follow the rules or offends you.

Killer's confession

Hey! I am sorry for the late reply. I forced myself to take a break because a lot has happened in my family but I finally feel ready to get back into the social (online) life :)

You are my first request for my 'I am back' moment haha. Hope you're happy with the little story. Have a nice day :) !

- Killer x reader (Kid's sister) - 2,028 words - romance, cute moment, tiny bit of nsfw but nothing too tragic

Since Kid made the decision to let you, his sister, join the crew, you have been nothing but trouble. Not only did you need all those extra girly things but you also got a lot of attention from his male crew. He never bothered about men surrounding or even flirting with you but since you were spending a lot of time together, it disgusted him to see his crew aggressively trying to get you into bed. You never really paid any attention to these men and it was extra funny to annoy your big brother with these things. Especially since you were the only woman on this ship, you had tons of things to add to make him angry. But one thing bothered you the most. Not really one thing, but this one person. This guy. His best mate. Killer. While every crew member tried his best to make you do some unspeakable things with them, Killer didn't even try to show his feelings. Every once in a while, he would offer you your favorite cocktail or bring you some jewelry, which he stole from another ship. Sometimes he would even try to force a conversation late at night, just to be able to talk to you. But then there were times, when he avoided you for almost a week or even dare to ignore you on purpose, even though you were directly speaking to him. You realized that these moments often appeared whenever the crew would mention how awfully disgusting you two behaved while flirting. "Stop trying to be so cute." "It's fucking cringe, man." "I get diabetes watching you two!" - "You don't even know how to spell diabetes." - "But I know that you could die because of too much sugar and sugar is sweet... right?" Usually, it would end up in a fight, where almost everyone who made a stupid comment would get beaten up by Killer. Sometimes even by your brother. You tried to ignore them because you were never able to just beat someone up. You either kill them or don't fight at all. After a glorious win against a new pirate crew, the Kid pirates were all celebrating in a pub. Drinking, eating, singing, and even dancing were mandatory in every pirate's party but with the Kid pirates you have to include a few fights, threats and topless women dancing on the tables or on men's laps. Kid was already drunk and probably didn't even know on which planet he was on. A woman kept squeezing her breasts onto his face and Kid didn't bother at all. He stood up with that woman in his arms and went straight into a room above the pub. You shook your head at that sight and finished your drink to try to delete this last memory of your brother and breasts. You glanced over to Killer, who was surrounded by two women in their underwear. They were dancing seductively and singing a song you've never heard of. Feeling your sight resting on him, Killer turned his head into your direction. Even though you couldn't see his eyes, or even his face, you knew that he was looking at you. Your heartbeat fastened at the thought of him staring at you and you immediately turned your head away, trying to calm yourself down. But it was harder than expected. It's been way too long since you've wanted someone's attention. When you've met Killer, you were fascinated by his existence and wanted nothing more but his near. Especially now.

"Are you alright?", a very familiar voice appeared behind you. It was him. You were just able to nod and wouldn't even dare to try to speak now. "I erm-", Killer paused and stepped closer to you, "I wanted to go back to the ship now.. Kid told me that you'd prefer to stay in a room here. I'd prefer to bring you there.. just to make sure you'll arrive safely." "I can defend myself and you know that.", you frowned at that request and turned back to him. His offer surprised you but you knew that he didn't mean to offend you. But his sudden change of interest confused you. "You're right but I'd prefer to see it with my own eyes. I mean.. that you're safe in your room." Killer cleared his throat and took a step back to make room for you so you could follow him. You raised an eyebrow at him and thought about his offer. After you gave it a few thoughts, you nodded softly and stood up, following him upstairs. None of you spoke up or made a single noise on your way to your room. You hated it. "Killer, do you hate me?" He suddenly froze. You turned to him, surprised by his reaction. "Wait.. did- did I-", Killer shook his head. He didn't expect you to feel as if he'd hate you. "No, I don't hate you. I could never.. It's actually the complete opposite." "So.. you like me?" Killer nodded and was still not moving. "How much?", you teased him a little and tried to hide a smile. You could clearly see how his ears got a slight blush of red and tilted your head a little. "Where is your room, (Y/N)?", he stepped closer and looked around, as if he'd try to actually look for the room. But he took his arm around you and pulled you closer to him, letting you lean onto his torso. "It's at the end of the corridor.", you whispered and smiled at this soft gesture. You missed the smell of his minty-woodish mixture and enjoyed the few seconds of him actually trying to have physical contact after a way too long time. "Alright.", Killer commented and leaned forward to pick you up with both his arms. Not trying to hurry, Killer carried you to the room and took his time to get there. He loved carrying you around and generally preferred to be the one caring for you whenever possible. When he finally made it to the door, you leaned a bit to the side to be able to open it with a single swipe. Killer slowly went in and carried you to the bed. He let you down carefully and again, took his time. "Thank you, Killer.", you whispered for only him to hear and watched him standing up again. With a soft pat on your head, he turned to leave.

"Wait, you're actually leaving?", you looked at him surprised again. You were here, alone, in a bed, and he didn't care. "What else am I supposed to do? You are safe in your room and it's late at night.", he turned to you when he reached the doorway and was thinking of turning the lights on but he preferred to see you in the light of the moon. "I don't know.. we could talk? Or.. you could just sleep here?", you looked up at him, hoping he'd take the offer. Killer had already considered it but he wasn't sure if you'd like it. Without having to think about it twice, he came back to you and closed the door behind him. "Alright. I will stay, if you don't mind.", he took off his boots and shirt and laid down into the bed. You couldn't help but stare at his figure. The moonlight was shining into the right spots of the room, revealing his muscles and all the scars covering them. "Are you done staring?", he joked a little and patted the place right next to him. You took off your heels and bra in one move and sighed relieved after feeling your chest relaxing now. "Are you going to sleep with that mask on?", you looked short at him and crawled backwards into bed until you were on the same height as Killer. A few seconds have passed and Killer wasn't sure why he was hesitating. You've already seen him without the mask, which is why he shouldn't be bothered to take it off. But he feared to ruin the moment with the look of his face. You felt how anxious he suddenly became and smiled a bit, "Don't worry about it." You leaned slowly forward and gave him a kiss on his bare chest before turning around and cuddling onto him. "I won't look. Promise! But you shouldn't sleep with it. Let your face rest from the pressure." Killer couldn't believe it. The amount of respect and comfort you were offering, stunned him. This time, he didn't have to think about it again. Killer took off his mask and placed it right beside him onto the nightstand. He then took an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. "Could you do me a favor though?", you sighed and closed your eyes. When he leaned his chin onto your shoulder, you felt how he nodded softly. "Could you please massage my breasts? They feel really sore after that fight.. I really need a new bra." Two soft pushes of his chest onto your back let you know that he had to giggle but as usual, he was hiding his laugh. Killer didn't need to hear this offer a second time and slid under your shirt to reach for the first breast. When he softly began to massage it, he leaned his head onto his free hand and looked down at you. The sight of you relaxing and the thought of him being able to ease your pain, made him happier than he could have ever imagined. Even though this was the first time that he has ever touched you like that, Killer didn't mind that it was for your own pleasure as it made him feel better as well. When Killer switched to your other breast and had to focus on himself to not wake up his partner in his pants, a loud knock on the door appeared. Killer froze immediately and grabbed the mask behind him, to cover his face. But he did not let go of you or your breast yet. "Oj! Killer! Do you have any condoms?!", Kid opened the door after no one answered, turned the lights on and froze at the sight of you two in bed. Killer had already moved his arm away to not let anyone see what he was doing and threw a blanket on top of you as nobody but him should see you like this. Killer took a deep breath to not beat up Kid at how rude he was and nodded. He cleared his throat before he grabbed something in his trousers and handed two condoms to Kid. Kid narrowed his eyes when he grabbed them and looked at you and Killer carefully. He then ripped off one condom and threw it back at Killer. "I don't want to become an uncle yet." You rolled your eyes at that comment and threw a small pillow into his direction, "Get out!" Kid went to the door and looked back at you two, stopping for a few seconds. He clenched his teeth and took a deep breath. "Move!", you threw a knife at him and he

immediately slipped out of the door and crashed the door close. The knife hit the perfect spot, where Kid's head would have been. "Next time, throw it earlier.", Killer giggled and took off his mask again. "How did he even know that I was in here?" "He always expects it.", you assured him and leaned forward, grabbing the condom Kid left. Killer raised an eyebrow and watched you lay back down to not look at him again. He couldn't help but smile a bit as he leaned back to you and kissed your shoulder softly. "There are a lot of positions, where I don't have to face you.", you smiled a bit and pulled his arm around you, to signal Killer to massage you again. "Good thing that I only showed him these two condoms. I have a whole package in my other pocket.", Killer smirked and began massaging your breast with one hand, while the other pulled down your pants.

[kyber-crystal]

➳ catch me || s.r

summary: in which you struggle to tell the difference between liking him as a friend or something more. until one fateful moment forces you to decide where you ultimately stand.

words: ~3.9k

warnings: mentions of death, blood, overused friends to lovers, slight enemies to lovers LOL

a/n: i suffered through this WIP for like, 3 mf MONTHS before i was finally able to finish it off. i feel so relieved. but i will warn you, it’s terrible

"Rogers."

"Y/N."

You exchanged curt nods with him as you went to grab yourself some water after attending a meeting with Fury. Ever since Sharon started showing up more often, you began to distance yourself from him because you know that lingering by will only make you feel worse.He doesn't know why you're acting so cold all of a sudden, but decides not to question it as it won't help the situation in any way whatsoever.

He was quick to break the awkward silence that had fallen. "Where are you being sent off?"

"We," you replied coldly. "Northern Europe. Got word of an arms trade happening tomorrow morning."

"Okay."

Footsteps were suddenly heard from down the hall and without warning, he tugged you forward by the wrist and pressed his lips to yours.

You didn't protest because you're still too shocked to fully register what's going on and 2) you actually liked the way he made you feel. 

Though you really weren't supposed to be.

"What was that for?" you breathed out as you both pulled away, breathless.

"Sharon," he replied simply, looking around for a moment. "She's been bothering me for the past few weeks and I had to do something."

"You just noticed?" you said, sarcasm lacing your tone as you looked out of the corner of your eye to see the blonde woman walking away. "She's been all over you since her recruitment."

His brows furrow together in confusion as he notices the darkened look in your eyes, but doesn't say anything. You toss him the black manila folder containing information on your mission for him to read, sitting down at the kitchen counter together.

"Infamous dealer carrying nuclear weapons overseas. Headquartered somewhere in the Arctic Circle, I think," you explained as he pulled out the wanted man's file. "Can be taken either dead or alive. We have to stop them from going through with the attack."

"When are we leaving?"

"Wheels up at 8:30 p.m. Should take about 6 hours...we're being flown in via helicarrier."

Great.

You just realized you'd be stuck in a plane alone together for 6 hours straight, when the very thing you were trying to do was avoid him.

You're mostly silent as you board the jet, securing your bags and weapons before taking your seat. Fatigue is tugging at your body and your eyelids grow heavy, although it isn't even that late. Without thinking about what you were doing, you rest your head against Steve's shoulder and close your eyes. He wraps an arm around your waist in response.

Before you knew it, the aircraft was hovering over the drop zone. The two of you got up and went towards the back, fastening parachutes to your backs as the gates dropped open.

"Stay safe out there," you blurted out as you glanced down at the base below you, then over at Steve. "Circle the perimeter and meet me inside. Don't die or I'll kill you."

"Yes ma'am."

Inhaling sharply, you gripped the straps of your jacket and squeezed your eyes shut, the dry wind whipping your hair in your face as you descended downwards.

With his icy blue eyes still imprinted in the back of your mind.

...

It was quite ironic seeing that you, an Avenger and a former SHIELD pilot that flew everywhere all the time, had a crippling fear of heights. The mere idea of being jumping out of planes and having to go on missions involving multi-story buildings shook you to your core, and it always took you at least a week to recover once you got back.

"Steve!" Your voice heightened to a shriek as you felt the plane's velocity increase suddenly. The crates next to you toppled over and you went crashing to the floor alongside them, barely managing to grip the armrest of something and pressing your back against the wall, feeling your head spin. The sticky warmth and stinging, white-hot pain in your side tells you that you were shot. You didn't need to look at the wound to know it wasn't pretty. "Where the hell are you?"

"Fifty yards away from the northeast entrance," he replied breathlessly. "I got nothing. You?"

"The weapons," you panted, "are on the plane!"

"Okay. Where are you?"

"On the damn plane! They're gonna detonate at any moment, I have to get this thing away from the city—I'm not gonna make it so I just wanted to tell you that—"

"Fuck, don't say that," he hissed. You know things were bad when Steve Rogers, the man that coined the 'Language' line, swore. "Just—hang tight, I'm coming for you."

"No. Just forget it," you shouted over the noise, grunting in pain as your head hit the side of a storage box, muttering a string of curses under your breath. "I can't afford for you to risk your own life for me. It's okay. Just leave me behind."

"No, I'm not leaving you!" he yelled back. "I'm not going back home without you."

"Steve," your voice was thick with tears, throat feeling tight as you swallowed back the sob that was threatening to erupt from your lips. You wipe a tear that slips down your cheek and cleared your throat. "It's okay."

"It's not okay," he says hoarsely, "I lost you once, and I'm not losing you again."

"There's no point, Steve. I'm going to die. This thing's on autopilot going God knows where at top speed and if there's any chance of stopping this thing, I gotta crash it. If you come and get me you're gonna die, too. You know Fury's not gonna like having to send out an extraction team to drag both our corpses back to headquarters."

"Y/N, don't-" His voice breaks and you swear your heart shatters into a million pieces. "Please, don't- don't say that. I'm gonna come and get you. You're gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay."

That was the last straw for you; and you lost it at those last words. Tears sting a steaming hot trail down your cheeks as you hastily try to wipe them away with your bruised and bloodied knuckles. "No, we're not. I don't think you understand. I'm over 30,000 feet in the air with no protection whatsoever. They're gonna shoot you down before you even have the chance to get to me."

You always told yourself you'd be willing to put your life on the line to save someone else's; to sacrifice yourself for the greater good. But now that death was looming threateningly close to you and staring you down, for the first time in a long time, you didn't know if you even wanted to leave and you were scared. Scared of what was to come if you really were to meet your end. Scared of what was to come at the end of the tunnel, what would happen when you were swallowed whole by death's bottomless, dark pit. You didn't expect your fate to approach so quickly, and it scared you more than you wanted to admit.

Being a superhero meant that making sacrifices were a must-do. You always knew you would need to give things up in order to successfully do your job. That one day, your time to die would come but you didn't know it would happen like this; so unexpectedly.

Now you realize people were right as they told you in your final moments, you'd see your entire life flash before your eyes. You blink and you're transported back to when you first joined the Initiative, skeptical of the six unfamiliar faces before you. But it only takes a matter of three minutes before Thor cracks a joke that has you all howling in laughter, and another one for Natasha to approach you and start a conversation. To you, her, and Steve on the run as fugitives of SHIELD as you conducted the search for The Winter Soldier. The heartbreaking decision of having to choose between your mentor and best friend in Berlin--which you realized, happened barely over a year ago. So many memories had been created in such a short amount of time and you didn't ever want to let any of them go. You couldn't bring yourself to.

You stumbled over, sliding into the pilot's seat and buckling up. Your grip around the controls were so tight that the barely healing cuts around your knuckles reopened and began bleeding again.

You let out a shuddering sigh, tapping several buttons overhead before reaching down to turn on your comm again. "Steve? Are you there?"

"Darling..." The pure agony in his voice only makes you feel worse. You've never heard the great Captain America in such a soft-spoken tone before, so you could only assume it took him a lot to get him into this state. "Yeah. I'm here."

"So..." you readjusted your grip and let your shoulders fall back, "...you remember that one time we took the subway to see Hamilton last weekend?'

"Last weekend? It was only last weekend?" Steve tried his best to keep it together, but his wavering tone gave it all away. "Feels like forever since we got a break."

"I know," you let out a broken laugh, "and then you wouldn't stop talking about it the entire way back? It got so bad to the point Tony had to forcefully shut off all the speaker systems around the compound because he woke up at 3 am to see you sitting in the kitchen, playing the soundtrack at full volume."

"But when he saw you dancing around in the kitchen while making lunch the next day, he couldn't keep doing that for any longer. You have an amazing voice."

"I don't know..." you sniffed, forcing a smile, "you're the one who's pretty good at singing and playing the piano. I think you got all the musical talent-"

"Y/N," he interrupted, "stop. Don't do this to me."

"Do what?"

"You're talking as if you're gonna die."

The gravity of the whole situation comes crashing down on you again. "...Because I am."

"No, you're not. I'm not letting that happen."

"I don't think you have a say in things this time, Rogers," your voice cracked. You shook your head. "I'm done for. God, I really hoped this wasn't how I'd meet my end. I hate heights. I hate the ice, I'm scared shitless of dying, I can't- I can't do this. But I have to. If I don't, millions of people will die and I can't have that on my conscience."

You sucked in a breath as you looked out of the corner of your eye to see you're falling, and falling fast. In a matter of minutes you'll be plunging through the surface of the ice and into the depths of the icy-cold water. There's no turning back now.

"Geez," you spoke up again, "this is like some repeat of '45. Is this how it felt? Knowing you were gonna die, but doing it anyway because you knew you had to do it?"

"That's not the same. It was a matter of chance that I made it at all. Chances are slim to none that you'll end up frozen in a block of ice for 66 years."

"See, it's hopeless," you sighed. "Go back. You need to go...or you're gonna end up filled with bullets."

"I'm not going back," he repeated. "Not without you."

"If you're gonna think of a plan, you better think fast-"

"Jump."

"What did you just say? Are you out of your damn mind?"

"I said, jump. There's no other choice. Look for an emergency exit...there should be one above you. Do you see it?" His voice was calm, gentle, as if he was speaking to a child, and it soothed you a bit. You muttered a quick 'yes'. "Alright. Pry that open, get out of there. I'm coming with the Quinjet right now, so hang tight."

As if he could sense your fear, he softened his tone a bit more, "Hey. It's okay. I'm coming for you. You'll be alright."

"It's like we're Romeo and Juliet," you managed to choke out in between a laugh and sob,  "except only one of us dies."

"Y/N, you're not dying." He couldn't mask the obvious pain in his voice. "Honey, I promise you're not gonna die. You're gonna be alright."

"Steve-" You let out an earsplitting shriek and scrambled to get a stronger grip as blaring alarms sounded throughout the aircraft. The impact of the hits nearly made you topple off and you clung to the side of the jet for dear life, praying to God you weren't going to fall off and crack your head open on an iceberg. "I got hit. They're tailing after me, you can't, I'm actually gonna fall-"

"Okay, okay, I'm here. Do you see me?" You turned your head to the side ever so slightly to see the Quinjet hovering below, but your heart dropped when all you could see were snow flurries blowing around - and zero sign of the super-soldier.

"No-"

"Just jump. I see you. I'm literally right below you, so jump, okay?"

"Are you crazy?"

"Do you trust me?" he yelled out, his voice carrying over on the frigid winds. "Y/N. Do you trust me?"

"But-"

"I've never let you down before and I sure as hell won't now. Trust me, Y/N, come on."

You pressed your lips together. You knew he was right. Either you made the jump now, or get filled with a dozen bullets and dying a brutal and gory death.

You finally bring yourself to look down again and there he is, a little closer this time. His gaze finds yours and suddenly, you're drowning. You might've been hundreds of feet apart but no distance would be able to extinguish his piercing gaze. His eyes were the ocean and you were lost at sea, lost in those endless pools of blue and losing yourself in him—the one guy who stuck by your side for so long and thought as nothing more than a best friend, a teammate until now. The one guy who took your breath away with his million-dollar smile every time you made eye contact.

In the one guy who you thought was just a friend, until you realized you were hopelessly in love with him - the Steve Rogers.

And now you weren't sure if you'd come out of this alive to finally tell him so.

You squeezed your eyes shut and let go. The wind whipping at your hair and face feels like a thousand tiny needles being jabbed into your skin and you swear if you kept your mouth open you would've puked - if you'd opened your eyes you knew you'd die from fear first before anything else.

But all those thoughts are suddenly put to a halt when you're stopped by a pair of strong, warm arms you'd sought solace in countless times before.

"Y/N, thank God you're alright, oh my god," Steve let out a shuddering sigh as he held you close, cradling your head against his chest. "I thought I lost you. Oh my god. Are you okay?"

"I just fell out of an airplane without a parachute and I have no idea how I survived."

His look of concern immediately turns into horror when he pulls his hand off your waist to see it come back covered in your crimson blood. His face falls. Then it hits you all at once, and you're overcome with a nauseating wave of dizziness - the aftereffects were beginning to get to your head.

The super-soldier hurriedly jammed a finger to his ear. "I got her. We're on our way back. Prepare the medbay; she's gonna have to be operated on as soon as we land."

"Yes, sir," a STRIKE agent replied from the receiving end. "We'll get right to it. Please have a safe flight home."

"Thank you."

Steve put the jet on autopilot so he could sit with you in the back, frantically applying pressure to your wound and doing his best to patch you up. But with each round the bandages made around your waist, the blood flow increased, seeping through the fabric. You didn't have to tell him directly for him to know you didn't have much time left and if he were to save you, you would need to get back home, fast.

...

As soon as Steve stepped down the ramp with your limp, unconscious body in his arms, he was bombarded by a flurry of medbay agents, who had you in a gurney and were wheeling you away within minutes. He tried to follow after them but Tony quickly grabbed his wrist and yanked him back.

"Let me go," he growled. "I swear to Odin, Stark, if you don't-"

"You can't follow her in there."

"I can if I want to."

Tony let out a sigh of defeat. "Rogers. She's going to be fine."

"How do you know? How can you possibly guarantee her survival?"

"I just know. Sheesh, you're a hopeless romantic."

...

You glanced over at the monitor tracking your vitals beside your bed, the constant beeping of the machines seemingly echoing in your brain on a loop. You were too exhausted to do anything at the moment, but you couldn't seem to fall back asleep, even with the drugs coursing through your system.

You try to shift around and find a more comfortable position, and felt a twinge of pain on your right side. Note to self; don't place all your body weight on the side where a bullet tore through your stomach. Bad idea.

Laying flat on your back again, you closed your eyes, willing yourself to fall back asleep. But sleep never comes, and a few minutes later a knock on your door pulls you out of your momentary trance.

"Hey there, soldier," you managed a sleepy grin as Steve stepped into the room, pulling up a chair to your bedside. "Nice weather outside, isn't it? Feels like just yesterday I was gunned down and forced to drive myself to near-suicide...wait, that was yesterday, right? I've lost all sense of time-telling-"

You paused and looked back over to see a rare sight - he was on the verge of breaking down. His bright blue eyes were dulled and glossed over with fresh tears that threatened to spill, and although it had barely been over a day since your admittance to the hospital, it looked like he hadn't slept in over a week. And it was all your fault.

"Are you okay...?"

He shook his head, clenching his fists in his lap so tightly that they began turning white. "You’re seriously asking me if I’m okay? I almost lost you. You almost died."

"I'm sorry-"

"If I hadn't gotten to you in time, then...I don't know what I'd do if-"

"Steve, it's not your fault."

"I let you down, Y/N." His voice was cracked and raw, as if he'd been crying for hours on end beforehand. Your heart shattered at the sound. "I let you down and I'm so sorry I couldn't get to you sooner. I'm sorry I left you alone on that ship because I didn't look out for you well enough. This is all on me. My job was to protect you, to look out for you. And I failed to do that."

"You didn't fail, Steve," you said softly. "You did your best. You saved me. I'm alive right now because of what you did."

The super-soldier inhaled sharply and moved his chair closer so he could reach his hand out to place it on your forehead, letting it stay there for a moment before sliding it down to cup your cheek. You didn't make any efforts to remove it and if you were being honest with yourself, you liked how his warm skin felt against your own. He smelled like honey and freshly ground coffee and everything good in the world. He made you feel like you were at home.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you let yourself bask in his warmth, melting into his soft touch. If it weren't for your currently uncomfortable predicament, you would've fallen asleep on the spot all over again.

"Something's on your mind, isn't there," you mumbled, eyes still closed. Even without your powers, it didn't take much for you to figure out that something was wrong. "Tell me what's going on."

You opened your eyes again to see that there were tears streaming down his face. He hastily tried to wipe them away with one hand as the other was gently placed on top of yours, but his efforts were fruitless, of no avail whatsoever.

"Steve-"

"I was so worried," he croaked out. "I don't want to think about how things would be if you died. I can't live without you."

"I'm here now, okay? I'm going to be fine. I'll heal," you said softly. "You saved me, you caught me, so now I'm okay. We're okay." You moved over slightly to give him room to sit. Steve's arms encircled your waist as yours slid down and over his shoulders, and he pressed his trembling lips to your temple.

It was quiet. Whispered oh-so-quietly, as if he was hesitant to open his mouth. But you heard it regardless.

"I love you."

You smiled sadly. "I know. I love you too."

"Just...please don't try and pull off something off like that again."

"I won't. I promise."

You heard each shaky inhale and exhale as he tried to regain his composure - strong arms tightening around your figure with his face buried into the crook of your neck. Letting out a trembling sigh, you held onto him even tighter as if by some miraculous way, doing so could keep him from falling apart. As if somehow, your arms being around him could squeeze all the million little shattered pieces of his heart back together again.

You knew deep down, exactly why he had been so afraid to watch you meet your potential end. It was the jet plunging into the depths of the icy blue, monstrous sea. He didn't want you to experience even a fraction of what he had and prayed you’d never have to. He swore a silent oath to himself to shield you away from as much of the horrifying world as he possibly could, but you were nearly dragged under by the clutches of Death herself that day, and he couldn't help but feel like he failed you.

You took in a deep breath, inhaling his fresh scent of coffee grounds and warm honey as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. For the briefest moment in time you could pretend everything was in fact, going to be okay, because it was just you and him wrapped up in each others' arms without a care in the world. It was just you and him, basking in each others' warmth, silent whispers of reassurance into his ear and repeated soft, fleeting kisses to his temple that reminded him you were still alive and breathing, and you were just fine.

For the first time in a long time, Steve Rogers felt whole again. The hole in his heart was gone, the void finally filled. And all it took was your presence, and your presence alone.

...

(if your username is striked out, that means i couldn’t add you)

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[dragonsareourfuture]

Mello/GN!Reader — I Forgive You (Part One)

⚠️ Warnings: mentions and descriptions of bullying/abuse. Please do not continue if you are sensitive about that kind of thing or do not enjoy reading about it.

I had this idea but did not have a character to put it to yet. I chose Mello because I thought it worked best with his aggression and inferiority complex. This isn’t meant to label him and his character as a bully, I love the man and would never say that, it’s just what worked well for the story. With that out of the way, hope you enjoy the first part, second part can be found here!

When you first arrived at the spiked gates that guarded the church-like building, you had figured it was a chance at a fresh start — an opportunity to build on what you had learned and grow from that in a more stable environment than the dirty streets of town had been. You remember standing eagerly at the entrance of the orphanage, watching the children around your age kick around a soccer ball, seeming so carefree. It made you yearn for the days when you would feel that way. When you could leave your past — pickpocketing strangers in order to eat and being roughed up by thugs and privileged brats with parents who barely regarded their actions — behind you.

What the orphanage brought you, however, was the opposite. Just your luck, the very first day of your stay you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

You had been skipping back to your assigned room after getting a snack from the kitchen. Your mind was blossoming, filled with daydreams of the future to come when you probably should have been more aware of your surroundings. You just couldn’t help let your mind wander when you didn’t have to worry about your survival every spare second of the day.

You were broken out of your daydreams as the sensation of something hard colliding with your shoulder caused your small body to stumble. You toppled to the ground, howling with pain as your arm got caught underneath you and bent in the worst way possible.

With your mind clouded with searing pain as you clutched your arm close to your chest, feeling dizzy already, you searched for the source of your fall. A blurred vision of yellow and black sunk into view. It appeared to be the shape of a person looming above you, saying something that took a few repeats of the same sentence for you to hear without the ringing in your ears. The pain shot up your arm and, though you wanted to make sure the person you had bumped into was alright, you were focused on the fact that your arm, limp at your side as you sat up, was most likely broken.

As the pain got more bearable, the person standing in front of you became clearer. He was dressed in baggy black garments, standing at a height that couldn’t have been much taller than you were, but in this position it was hard not to be intimidated as he leered down at you. His jaw length blonde hair framed his face, casting a terrifying shadow. A scowl contorted his features in a way that told you he was having absolutely no shit today and that you would be better off running.

When you didn’t move, the kid crouched down and moved his hand towards you. For a second, you assumed he was helping you up. But when his fist shot towards your body with speed that made you wince, a brutal blow to the side of the head told you otherwise.

“What’s the matter with you?” His voice echoed, already dizzy from the burning pain in your arm and now disoriented thanks to the new bruise you were sure was forming on your scalp. “Can’t you watch where you’re going?”

As he was standing now, he delivered an aching kick to your stomach, causing your weak and broken body to flop to the floor pathetically. You choked on air, having the wind knocked out of you and your snack from earlier was threatening to show itself again. Your stomach churned painfully as you screwed your eyes shut. It was always best to just wait it out.

Images from the streets swirled around the depths of your mind, the thieves and gangs and bratty children who got sick pleasure out of beating you into unconsciousness resurfacing. This kid was no different. It was all the same and, the more you thought about it, you could never escape the same old shit.

You must have slipped into unconsciousness because after what felt like a blink later you awoke in a bed, your arm bandaged up and an ice pack resting on your head. Upon hearing you stir, what must have been the nurse hurried to your side and berated you with questions — were you feeling alright? Was the ice pack too cold? Did you know where you were?

All you could answer with was, “What happened?” Your voice groggy and rough as you attempted to sit upright.

The nurse pushed you back down, scolding you and telling you to rest. “You should thank that boy,” she said, adjusting your broken arm and the covers around your waist, “He brought you all the way here. Said you fell down he stairs.”

Although your brain was a bit foggy on the details, you were quite sure that was not what had occurred. You began to protest, but the nurse hushed you with her finger over your lips and instructed you to sleep a while. As she pulled the curtains around your bed closed, separating you from the other sick kids, you sighed in defeat. This was how it was going to be?

Once you had recovered enough from your injuries, you were released from the nurse. You scratched at the cast around your arm nervously as you walked down the hall to your room — your intended destination the previous day — however, much more cautious this time. The gray light that shone through the windows made the hall look much more eerie, raising your alertness to the height that it should have been the day you received your injuries.

However paranoid you were feeling, your nerves met their peek when the shadow of someone standing next to the window caught your gaze. Your head whipped around to face the person the shadow belonged to, coming face to face with your assailant from yesterday. He leaned against the glass, one hand buried in his pocket while the other held a bar of chocolate to his lips. You stared him dead in the eye, waiting for another attack that never came. Neither of your glares relented — yours filled with fear and his so aggressive that you felt your bandaged arm throb with discomfort — as you stalked past the blond.

“Nasty fall you took there,” He said, snapping off a chunk of the chocolate with his teeth.

You flinched at the sound, hurrying away after that.

To think that this treatment would cease after that encounter with the boy would be a foolish sentiment. Not only did it continue, but it got worse with each passing day. As you got older and more observant, you noted different behaviors of the blonde who’s name you learned to be Mello. Of course, that was only a code name, but it was his preferred alias so the kids at the orphanage referred to him as such.

Mello was number two in the training program held at Wammy’s Orphanage to become the next great detective, the one who would solve the world’s most dangerous yet interesting cases until their time was up and a new heir would be chosen. Whenever this other kid, Near, who was considered the first in line to become the next great detective, beat Mello in anything (whether it was in class or something as simple as who’s bed was made neater) the blonde would turn right around and take his anger out on you.

You tried to reason with him through the pain, spitting out blood and words of comfort towards the boy, but this only made him hit you harder, screaming about not wanting or needing your pity.

Once you got too old for childish beatings, rumors began to spread around the orphanage, some as tame as saying that you slept with a stuffed animal, while others were particularly nasty. This was worse than the beatings in your mind. You would rather experience physical pain for a short amount of time than have no one that wanted to talk to you for the rest of your life. Well, one person did stick around for you when you needed it most.

Mail Jeevas, or as you called him around the orphanage, Matt, was always by your side no matter what he heard about you from other kids. He seemed to think that the rumors were childish and cruel, going as far as to talk to Mello about retracting them but, as everyone knows, once you say something there is no taking it back.

It meant the world to you that Matt had even tried considering he was friends with Mello (how anyone could be friends with him, you had no idea) and standing up to the particularly violent kid was, in your book, a profound act of bravery. He never failed to stick by you even after Mello had ran away from the orphanage. You were so attached to your wonderful friend that you asked to go with him when he announced that he would be leaving as well.

“Please! I can’t stay here with you gone! I’m gonna go crazy here alone!” You begged, watching as Matt packed his clothes and belongings in a plain black duffel bag.

“(Name), I know you’re scared, but out there, in the real world, there are things that you’re not trained for.”

You lunged are the brunet, grabbing his arm desperately as if that would change his mind. “I don’t care. Anywhere’s better than here. Just...please.”

“This way is more efficient. You stay here-“

“This way is going to get us killed. You can’t handle yourself alone out there, no offense, and I will go insane if I stay here! No one is on my side here besides you.”

Matt glanced at the floor and then back at you. You pushed your bottom lip out and batted your eyelids pleadingly. He let out a breathy laugh and sighed, “Well, are you gonna start packing?”

“Yes, yes, yes! Thank you, Matt! I won’t let you down! We’ll be a team!” You exclaimed, jumping around before bolting off to your room to pack.

<•>

You had elected to stand on the sidelines. Sure, it would have been an amazing feeling to be able to throw that fact that you saved Mello’s life back in his face if he did survive the burns, but you couldn’t even bear the thought of touching him after so long of being free from his torture. 

So, you watched from the sidelines as Matt fearlessly dove into the flames to scoop up the blonde’s near lifeless body, charred and smelling of burning flesh, from the wreckage of the building that once stood as a warehouse, a base for Mello and his mafia associates. The heat from the fire distorted the image as Matt carried the boy closer to where you stood. You gazed down at Mello’s unconscious, helpless form, reveling in the triumph of seeing the previously indestructible (at least in your young eyes) boy so powerless.

Matt broke you out of your trance with frantic words. “We need to get him medical attention.”

“Do we really?”

Matt narrowed his eyes at you and you raised up both of your hands in defeat, “Fine. We can’t bring him to a hospital, so I’ll run out and get some supplies.” you instructed, beginning to walk through the rubble with Matt to the cheap car he drove, the heavily used Camaro being the only thing he could afford considering you both lived on your own with no job. “You take him back to the apartment and I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

Matt nodded in agreement and loaded Mello carefully into the back seat of the old car, being cautious of the bloodied burns that covered most of his left side. He dropped you off at the supermarket close by and took Mello the rest of the way home, fixing him on the bed and waiting until you finally burst through the door with a shopping bag full of medical supplies. You had to remind yourself to keep your face steady as you neared the bed with your childhood “friend” lying on it. Even when Matt had found him and housed him in the apartment, he had no problems with you renting another room in the complex. But now, what with all the medical attention Mello most likely needed, you had no choice but to stay by his side.

You cringed as you wrapped Mello’s body in clean, white bandages, every touch to his otherwise smooth, pale skin sending you back to your days at Wammy’s. You covered his arm with cloth, vivid images of  when you broke your own arm because of him flooding into your mind. But still, you wondered if this was payback, maybe karma. Mello having to endure the flames licking his skin as a punishment for all of the times he’s hurt you. You wondered if he ever thought about you in what he must have figured were his last moments.

You were torn from your thoughts when a gentle groan emitted from Mello’s lips. He raised his good arm to his head and ran his hand over his aching features. “What...hnng?” The blond managed, opening the eye that wasn’t enveloped in flames and now soft bandages to scan the room, jolting as he saw the figures of you and Matt sitting by the bed.

“Hey, Mihael...” Matt greeted softly in an attempt to ease the boy gently into consciousness.

“Who...eh...Matt? And...” Mello trailed off, propping himself up onto his elbows to get a better glimpse at you.

You avoided his gaze, bowing your head so that your chin rested on your shoulder, speaking so quietly that if it weren’t completely silent in the room, no one would have heard you, “So, you don’t recognize me when I’m not covered in bruises, then?”

Mello’s eye widened for a second before fluttering shut. “(Name)...it’s you?” If you didn’t know better you would say that he was exasperated when your name rolled off his tongue.

“Yeah.” You rose to your feet with a burst of confidence as though suddenly realizing that he was confined to a bed with severe burns all over his body and you were free to do whatever you pleased. “It’s me. Disappointed?”

“(Name)—“ Matt started, interrupted as you continued.

“Were you expecting the same weak little child that you could beat on all the time? Oh, but you poor thing, you can barely move, can’t you? I guess karma really does catch up to a person—“

“(NAME).”

You froze, unaware that you were now towering over Mello, fists clenched in fury and face a burning scarlet. Your breathing was heavy and ragged. Your eyes darted to Matt, then back to Mello. If you weren’t mistaken, there was a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes. Rather than filling you with pride, this fact terrified you beyond belief. You had no intention whatsoever of becoming like Mello, and as soon as you realized you were so close to acting upon your rage, you stepped back and retreated to the couch on the far side of the room.

Although you kept your face buried in the couch cushions, you could tell that someone was getting up judging by the shifting of fabric. To your disappointment, the slow and careful movements exemplified someone with an injury determined to not harm themselves any further.

The couch dipped as the blond sat next to you, grunting and rubbing his arm under the thick layer of bandages. “I...I’m...” he began, unable to get the words out before swallowing hard and trying again, “I’m sorry.”

You let out a dry laugh, lifting your head but not to look at Mello. “Oh, really? Because it seemed to take a lot just to get that word out.”

“Listen, you-!”

You jumped when his voice rose suddenly, pressing yourself against the armrest of the sofa, further away from the blond. Matt was listening in as well and at the harsh tone in Mello’s voice he stood from his chair, more than ready to intervene. But Mello had caught himself, releasing a deep breath from his nose.

“I really am sorry. I know you won’t forgive me this quickly but—“

“Tch, yeah, no shit.”

“Y’know, you’re making this really difficult.”

“I’m making this difficult? No, Mello. You made this difficult when you picked on me and tortured me. And for what!?”

“I shouldn’t have taken out my anger at Near on you, but I—“

“You can’t take back the past.” You finished. Mello nodded and stared down at his lap. Matt was still in ready position. “I just...I just need time. Can you give that to me? Some time...”

And that’s what you took, lots and lots of time to think things over. On the one hand, you hated the idea of forgiving him. He made your life, which was supposed to be better off at Wammy’s, a living hell. You had to work for years on rebuilding your shattered self esteem and had to learn how not to recoil when anyone so much as came near you. But, on the other hand, he could have changed. As you have built up your confidence and skill, he may have learnt kindness and guilt. It was possible, but even so, did it change anything?

Over the course of the next few weeks it was Mello’s mission to give you everything he took away from your childhood. The things you dreamed of while you lived out your days fighting for your life. First and foremost, you’d always wanted a parental figure — someone to hold you when times got tough and to give you advice about stupid little trivial problems like boys or what clothes to buy. How he knew this about you was not in the most honorable way, having stolen your journal as a child and made you watch as he smeared mud all over the pages but not before reading every single entry. But, he figured it was the only information he had and he was determined to use it for your benefit this time.

[winterscaptain]

i really love a joyful future bc its so soft!! but like imagine Jack and Hotch talking about Haley after the twins are born, like having time alone with one of your parents when you have so many siblings is already kind of hard pressed so like imagine idk the anniversary of her funeral or something and they talk about her and go out for ice cream or whatever and then come back and they both are kinda down bc theyre sad but then like seeing everyone cheers them up even a little :( i cant,,,

haley day

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader a joyful future fic

oops i made it a fic and its only a little off topic! please forgive any errors - i wrote this in like two hours yikes

universe: a joyful future words: 2291 warnings: discussion of death

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed! edited: november 27th, 2020

When you woke up, Aaron was already gone. There was a note on his pillow, and you stretched as you reached over for it. 

Jack and I are off for our hike at Maryland Heights. We’ll be back sometime in the late morning/ early afternoon. We won’t have service until we’re back down the mountain - don’t be nervous if you don’t hear from us. 

We’ll swing by to pick everyone up so we can go visit H all together. I’ll call when we’re an hour out. 

I love you. 

A

You held the note to your chest for a moment before slipping it into the manila envelope in your bedside drawer. You kept all of Aaron’s little notes - post-its from work, little things in your go bag, notes from mornings like this. They brought an absurd amount of joy to you, and he kept writing them, so you kept keeping them. You weren’t even sure if he knew you kept them, but you supposed some little fun secrets were good for a marriage every once and a while. 

Isaac was already up - your sweet boy, with a bowl of cereal in his lap and cartoons on. 

“Good morning, my love,” you said to him as you passed, kissing him on the head. 

He wiggled in his seat. “Hi, momma.” 

You continued into the kitchen, making yourself a cup of (already brewed) coffee. “How long have you been up?”

“I woke up when Jack and Daddy were getting ready, but I couldn’t fall back to sleep so Daddy put the TV on and put cereal where I could reach it and told me I was only allowed to wake you up if there was a fire or someone got hurt.” 

You huffed a laugh at his matter-of-fact tone - imitating Aaron beat for beat. “Is that so?”

He nodded. 

You returned with your coffee mug and planted yourself next to Isaac on the couch. 

“Momma?” He asked, after a little while. 

“Mhmm?” You set your coffee down on the table and tucked your legs up under you, facing him. 

“What’s Haley Day?” 

You opened your arms to him, and he put his cereal down and curled into you. “Can we talk about Haley Day when Dad and Jack get home?” 

He nodded and you pressed a kiss into his dark hair. 

+++

The boys leisurely hiked the path in relative silence, enjoying both each other’s company and the scenery. 

“How are you, Dad?” Jack asked, after a while. 

“I’m good, bud.” He thought about it for a moment and laughed lightly to himself. “I’m really good, actually.” 

A small smile crossed Jack’s face. “That’s good.” 

“What are you thinking about over there?” Aaron said, noting the pensive expression on his son’s face. It was odd - it was a little like looking in the mirror, but Jack would pull these faces that were so Haley. It had startled Aaron more than once. 

“Who says I’m thinking about anything?” 

“I can hear you thinking.” 

Jack rolled his eyes. “Fuckin’ profiler.” 

“Excuse me?” Aaron laughed. He was a stickler for language around the little ones, but he knew Jack swore like a sailor when he was out of the house. 

“I said, fuckin’ profiler.” Jack tutted. “Looks like your hearing is failing you in your advanced age, old man.” 

Aaron pointed at him, eyebrows raised. “Watch it.” 

After a moment, they both broke, laughing out loud. They quieted after a minute, walking a little closer together. 

“I’m just thinking about mom - Haley,” he clarified. “It kind of hit me this morning how…much that all was.” He looked at Aaron, brown eyes curious. “Are you okay, Dad?”

One side of Aaron’s mouth pulled up. “I’m alright. It was really hard for a while, but it gets easier to carry. I know you don’t remember, but you’re old enough now to know that the year before Haley died was...not great. That’s what I had the hardest time handling.” 

“The divorce, right?” Jack’s head dropped as he looked at his feet, still marching confidently up the rock-lined path. Aaron was suddenly grateful, deeply so, for the gift of his son. 

“Yeah. Certainly not a shining moment for either one of us, but I think she made the right choice. She was stronger than me by a long shot, and always managed to do what had to be done.” 

Jack hummed thoughtfully, and Aaron knew he could take what came next. 

“When she was killed, I had to grapple with the idea that she died angry at me.” Aaron looked up, letting the dappled light from the trees strike his face. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“What do you mean?”

Jack kept his eyes up, trained on the path, as he spoke. “I think that’s an easy way to feel guilty, but she didn’t die mad at you, Dad. Aunt Emily told me how brave you were, how you talked to her until you couldn’t anymore.” 

Aaron opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted. 

“Don’t be upset with Em. I asked and she told. Not her fault.” Jack pulled a mouthful of water from his pack before he continued. “I think she wanted you to know how much she loved you, you know? Like, Emily told me she reminded you to not be so serious all the time and to tell me stories about how much fun you guys had when you were young and cool.” He shot a smirk over to Aaron, who rolled his eyes with a smile. Jack squinted into the middle distance. “Were you mad at her that day?”

“No,” Aaron answered quickly. “Not at all.” 

“What were you, then?”

“Scared.” 

“Her too, probably.” Jack’s tone was simple, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to understand. Maybe it was. “You made her feel less scared and you kept calm, even when you were probably more scared than you’ve ever been in your whole life. I only remember her a little, but I think she’d love you for that, don’t you?”

Aaron was quiet for a moment, just looking at Jack as they walked. “When did you get so smart, kid?”

Jack shrugged. “You didn’t answer the question.” 

Yep. He’s my son. 

He couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth as he retorted, “You’re right, I didn’t.” 

Jack crossed the path to bump his father’s shoulder. They were almost the same height, and Aaron imagined Jack would pass him up by the end of the year. “I love you, Dad.” 

“I love you too, Jack.” He reached up to ruffle Jack’s hair, but he ducked away just in time. 

“C’mon, man.” 

Aaron scoffed. “You are your mother’s son - that much is certain.” 

“Which one?” Jack asked with a grin. 

After a moment of thought, Aaron huffed another laugh and said, “Unfortunately, both.” 

Jack’s grin softened. “You miss her, don’t you?”

“I do. But guess what?”

His brow furrowed. 

“You remind me of her so much sometimes it’s like she’s right here with us, you know that?” 

This time, Jack let his father muss the hair on top of his head. “Really?” 

Aaron nodded. “All the time.” Then again, under his breath. “All the time.” 

+++

Aaron called you around noon on the way back from Harper’s Ferry. “We’ll be home in about 45 minutes - traffic isn’t bad at all and we’re just now at the state line.” 

“Sounds good, honey. I’ll start the ball rolling with the girls.” 

You could hear a pair of chuckles on the other end of the line and perhaps a muttered “Good luck with that shit.”

Language, Jack Hotchner. 

Chewing on your lower lip, you added, “Also, Isaac asked. I think it’s time - for him, at least.” 

“Alright. We’ll go sit on the porch when I get home. Jack, are you good helping the girls get ready?” 

“For sure,” Jack’s assent sounded a little distant, but it made you smile.  

+++

You and Aaron settled on the porch swing with Isaac on your lap. Aaron held out his hands palm-up, and Isaac rested his little fingers on Aaron’s. 

Aaron closed his hands around Isaac’s, holding his attention. It was something you two had established early on with the kids: when Dad holds both of your hands, look at him and listen. 

“Mom told me you asked about Haley Day today.” 

Isaac nodded. 

“Before I tell you what Haley Day means, I want to remind you that Mom and I love all four of you exactly the same, okay?” 

Isaac nodded. 

“Alright, bud.” Aaron took a deep breath, and you smiled at him over Isaac’s head. “You know how you and Sophia and Caroline came out of Momma’s tummy?”

Little brown eyes looked back at you and you nodded encouragingly. 

“Yes.”

“You know how Mom and I are married and wear these rings and live together?”

He nodded. 

“And of course you know Aunt Jessica, right?”

A smile broke out across Isaac’s face as he nodded again. 

“Before I was married to your mom, I was married to Haley. Haley is Aunt Jessica’s sister, and Jack came out of Haley’s tummy before your mom and I met.”

There was a little bit of confusion splashed across Isaac’s face. “So Momma isn’t Jack’s momma?” 

You put your hands on his shoulders, and he looked up at you. “Not everyone is like you and me, bud. You came out of my tummy and I’m also your mom, but some people’s moms aren’t the same person they came out of. Does that make sense?” You were going to continue, but you closed your mouth. 

We aren’t going to start the “not everyone has a mom” conversation today. Baby steps. 

“So you’re still Jack’s mom, too?”

“Yes, sir,” you said with a smile. “But at the same time, Haley is also Jack’s mom. So he kind of has two moms, which is also a normal thing for some families. I’m what’s technically called a step-mom.” 

He nodded sagely and said, “Some of my friends at school have step-moms,” but then his face fell into almost comical confusion. “Where did Haley go?” 

You gestured to Aaron and Isaac whirled around. Aaron’s eyes flickered back to yours, and you returned his gaze with soft eyes. 

Aaron took another breath before speaking again. “Haley died when Jack was four - just a little younger than you are now - and so it’s really important for Jack and me to have Haley Day so we can remember her and spend time together. Today is her forty-ninth birthday, and sometimes birthdays of people who died are really hard.” He swallowed, and his eyes misted over. He looked up at you. 

It’s okay. Don’t hide from your son. It’s okay. 

He blinked rapidly, and a few tears fell. Tears pricked at your eyes as well as Isaac scrambled off your lap and into Aaron’s. 

“Mom said that people who have died can’t come back and you can’t see them anymore. Is that true?” He asked. 

Aaron wrapped one arm around Isaac and placed his other hand on your knee. You grabbed it right away, holding him tight. “Yeah, bud. Mom’s right.”

“Do you miss her? Sometimes I miss my friends who moved and I can’t see them anymore.” 

Aaron laughed and squeezed Isaac tight to his chest. “I do miss her. It’s a lot like when your friends move away. She was one of my best friends.”

“Is Mom one of your best friends?”

You brushed tears off your cheeks with your fingers and grinned at Aaron. 

“Yes. Your mom is one of my best friends,” he said with a smile that matched yours. “And Mom knew Haley, too and they were friends. There are a lot of pictures of Haley and Jack and me and Mom on the bookshelf in the living room, but they’re a little high up for you to see them. I can show them to you later, if you want.” 

There was quiet for a moment, as you both let Isaac process the concept of life and death and parenthood in his little four-year-old brain. 

That’s a lot all at once. 

“Do we get to do anything special for Haley Day?”

Aaron looked down at him, “Yes, sir. We’re going to go visit the place where she’s buried and then go out for ice cream. How does that sound?”

“Really good.” 

“Really good, alright!” Aaron rose with renewed vigor, and Isaac clung to his neck as he readjusted his grip. “Can you go get some shoes on and we can go?” Isaac nodded and Aaron set him down with a pat on his shoulder. 

You tucked yourself under Aaron’s arm as Isaac ran back into the house. Through the window, you could see Jack swinging Sophia up over his head as a reward for getting her shoes on. Caroline was attached to his pant leg, begging to go next.

“That went alright.” 

He nodded. “Yeah, it did.” He kissed the side of your head and inhaled. “Thank you.”

You looked up at him. “For what?”

With his hand, he gestured vaguely to everything around you. “Being here, I guess?” He laughed lightly through his nose. “Just - thank you. I know it’s not always easy.” 

You placed your left hand on his chest and rested your head against him as you spoke. “I know you worry, but I have never once felt like second-best or a replacement. Not even a little.” 

“I do worry,” he said quietly. 

“Don’t, please.” You patted his chest twice, a break. “Now, I believe we promised at least one of our children ice cream and I would hate to have a mutiny on our hands. We’re outnumbered two to one and I don’t need Reid to tell me those aren’t great odds.” 

He laughed and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. “There’s no better partner to fend off hangry toddlers than you, darling.”

+++

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[inkwell1013]

Feeding the Starving artist - Persona 5

Pairings: Various platonic ships. Mostly Yusuke and the Phantom Thieves, but also includes Yusuke and Sojiro (familial)

Genre: Angst, but also fluff, oneshot, found family, friendship

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: This fic deals with some difficult topics including disordered eating habits and child abuse/neglect (implied/referenced).

Summary: Yusuke Kitagawa is the epitome of a starving artist - in more ways than one - and when Ren find out that his friend is dangerously underweight, he and the rest of the Phantom Thieves hatch a plan to help Yusuke with his bad eating habits. Because sometimes the solution is just as simple as it sounds.

- - - - -

Yusuke was stick thin. He always had been, even as a child. The reason was simple: he had never had enough to eat. When he lived in the atelier, complete meals were rare, and he was used to eating meagre scraps of whatever Natsuhiko could find in the cupboards. There just wasn’t enough food to go around.

Even after he left that place in the wake of Madarame’s arrest, unable to shirk the dark memories that clang to it like a thick fog, Yusuke stuck to those same eating habits. It was a comfort. It was familiar. It was enough.

As much as the school nurse told him that he was underweight and insisted that he needed to eat more, he refused to believe her. He was eating the same amount that he ate as a child and saw no reason to change his habits.

He was fine.

In truth, he was not fine. His diet was beginning to affect him, as much as he hated to admit it. He was tired constantly, and every time he stood up too fast, he felt his head spin wildly. Yusuke’s constant exhaustion meant that he was falling asleep at every possible opportunity – on Ren’s shoulder while they drove around mementos, at his desk at school or while they were just hanging out. No one minded, just like no one minded how Yusuke stole food from them when he thought they weren’t looking, chalking his behavior up to his usual eccentricity. It took a few months of this for any of them to notice that something was wrong.

And it was easy to not notice, as Yusuke was good at coming up with excuses. “I’m fine,” he would say. “Just stayed up late finishing a piece. Don’t worry about me.” Or “I just forgot my lunch. Thought I’d borrow some of yours.”

Even so, the more perceptive of the phantom thieves, especially Ren, Makoto and Haru, couldn’t help but worry about their friend.

It all came to a head during their summer vacation. Yusuke had come to visit Ren and left Le Blanc at about six o’clock, insisting that he needed to get back to the dorms before curfew. Ren had gone to take out the trash a little later that evening, and found his friend, sprawled out on the ground, unconscious.  

“Sojiro!” he yelled. “It’s Yusuke. He’s fainted!”

“What do you mean he’s fainted?” asked Sojiro. “I swear to God, if this is some stupid prank…”

“No. I swear he’s really unconscious. I think he might be hurt. Please.” Ren could hear the terror in his own voice, and he knew that Sojiro could hear it too, because there was a great clatter in the kitchen and Sojiro came running. He swore under his breath when he saw Yusuke, and quickly placed a finger to his wrist.

“His pulse is weak, but it’s there,” he said finally. “We need to get him inside. Can you pick him up?”

Ren dug his hands underneath Yusuke’s shoulders, and hoisted him upright, throwing one of Yusuke’s arms over his shoulder and putting his arm around Yusuke’s waist. He was horrified to see that he weighed almost nothing. “Is he heavy?” asked Sojiro. “Do you need help?”

“No… I don’t. He weighs nothing.”

“He can’t be that light. Pass him here.” Ren complied, allowing Sojiro to take on most of Yusuke’s weight.

Sojiro’s eyes widened. “He’s lighter than Futaba,” he whispered.

Futaba was a good foot shorter than Yusuke. He should have weighed much more than her, not so much less.

“We need to get him inside,” said Ren. From his hand’s position on Yusuke’s side, he could feel every one of his ribs. This was bad. How did he not notice that something was wrong before?

He shouldered Yusuke’s slight frame into Le Blanc and laid him down in one of the booths. “Fetch the doctor,” ordered Sojiro. “I’ll watch him.”

Ren wasn’t a particularly fast runner; he wasn’t slow, but he wasn’t especially fast either. Even so, as he ran to fetch the doctor, the world became a blur behind him. A single word repeated in his mind, repeatedly:

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

He burst into Takemi’s clinic, grabbing her by the arm. “No time to explain,” he panted, trying to drag her out the front door. “You have to come.”

“Give me a second to lock the door kid,” said Takemi. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Yusuke… my friend… he fainted… and somethings really wrong. He weighs literally nothing. He’s so light.”

“That does sound serious. Where is he?”

“Le Blanc. Hurry.”

***

Takemi’s face fell when she saw Yusuke - who had thankfully begun to stir slightly - and Ren understood why. Yusuke’s appearance was almost ghoulish, he was white as a sheet and there were deep bags under his eyes.

“Is he another one of yours Sojiro?” asked Takemi, in a feeble attempt to lighten the mood. “How many kids do you have tucked away back there?”

“No, he’s not,” said Sojiro. “He’s… He’s Ren’s friend. Just spends a lot of time here. You know how it is.”

“You called the doctor?” whined Yusuke, trying to sit up. “That was completely unnecessary. I’m fine.”

“Yusuke, you literally fainted. You’re not okay,” said Ren, placing a hand on Yusuke’s chest and pushing him back down. “Don’t try to stand up, you might faint again.”

“But I’m fine!”

“I’ll be the judge of that, thank you,” said Takemi, reaching into her bag and pulling out a stethoscope. She pressed it to Yusuke’s chest, and listened a moment. Frowning, she lifted in away. “You have a weak heartbeat. I’ll bet you have a dangerously low blood pressure too. Do you feel any numbness or coldness in your extremities?”

“A little. I thought that was normal.”

“It’s a sign of poor circulation, likely due to your weak heart. Do you know how much you weigh?”

“Umm… the last time we had physical examinations at school I weighed fifty-three and a half kilos.”

“And how tall are you?”

“A hundred and eighty-one centimeters.”

Takemi pulled her phone out her pocket and jabbed a few numbers into it. She scowled. “Your BMI is 16.3. You’re severely underweight. It’s no wonder you’re having health problems.”

Somehow, to Ren, even the word ‘severely’ feels like an understatement.

“I’m surprised your parents weren’t contacted,” she continued. “This stuff is serious.”

Yusuke stared down at the ground, not saying anything. Sensing the tension, Takemi spoke again. “I feel like I’ve touched on a sensitive issue here. You are under no obligation to tell me, but is everything alright at home?”

“He’s in jail,” came the quiet response. “My fathe- my mentor got arrested… for child abuse. And my mother is dead.”

Takemi took in a sharp breath, looking desperately at Ren and Sojiro. “You have a place to stay, right?” she asked. “Because if you don’t, I’m sure Sojiro will…”

“I’m living in my school dorms. I’m fine.”

“That’s good. Look, I can prescribe you some medication to lessen some of your symptoms, like your fatigue and low blood pressure, but the best thing you can do is try to get to a healthy weight. Given your height, you should aim to gain roughly ten to fifteen kilos over the next few months.” She handed him a business card. “If you need any further help, you can call me or come to my clinic.”

She packed up her things and pulled Sojiro to one side, safely out of earshot. “This kid has some serious problems,” she whispered. “I don’t know if it’s an eating disorder or just bad habits, but he’s going to need help. I know it’s a lot to ask but—”

Sojiro interrupted her. “I will. I’ve done this before with my daughter. She had similar issues. I know that I can help him.”

Takemi nodded, begrudging respect in her eyes. “Besides,” continued Sojiro. “The kid has good friends. I’m sure they’ll help him out too.”

Sojiro saw Takemi out the door, but once he was sure she was gone, he headed back to check on Ren and Yusuke. Sojiro’s heart broke a little in his chest as he saw Yusuke’s expression. His eyes were watering, and he looked so confused and lost. When Ren patted him on the shoulder, Sojiro couldn’t help but notice that Yusuke jumped a little at the touch.

“I need to get back to the dorms or I’ll miss curfew,” he mumbled, sitting up.

“Let me drive you,” said Sojiro.

“That’s not necessary,” replied Yusuke, a tad sharply.

Sojiro sighed. “Just accept my help kid. It won’t kill you.”

Yusuke begrudgingly allowed Sojiro to drive him back to the dorms, after Sojiro insisted that he’d rather not find him passed out on the street again.

By the time Sojiro got back to Le Blanc, Ren was already asleep upstairs. He went to lock up the café, craving a cigarette for the first time in years. For the first time since… Since Wakaba died.

It was funny to think that just a few years ago he didn’t consider himself to be a fatherly person and now he had a whole troop of kids. Sighing, he put the key in the lock and turned it, before making the slow trudge home.

***

Ren let out a deep sigh. Pulling out his phone, he made a group chat and invited all his friends, save for Yusuke.

Ren: I’m calling an emergency meeting. Don’t tell Yusuke.

Ryuji: Why not?

Makoto: This is about him, isn’t it? About the thing we discussed.

Haru: I hoped we were wrong.

Ren: Yes, it’s about that.

Ryuji: Why are you all being so cryptic?

Ren: Meet me at Le Blanc at 10am tomorrow. Don’t be late.

Ren: That means you Ryuji.

Ryuji: Dude!

Ren: @Ann Make sure Ryuji gets here on time.

Ann: Will do.

Ryuji: Don’t encourage him!

Ryuji: Seriously, what’s going on? I’m so confused.

Ren: I’ll bring Futaba. Remember, do not tell Yusuke. He can’t know about this.

Turning off his phone, Ren set it down on the table and took in a long, deep breath. He needed to tell them. He needed to be a good leader. He needed to be who everyone else needed him to be.

He was a Joker, expected to fit into any gap, and designed to be a wild card. He could do anything, fill any role, and tomorrow, his role would be that of the messenger, bearing terrible news. He didn’t want to do it, but he had no choice.

***

When Ren stirred the next morning, memories of the previous night flooded his mind. Shit. He dragged himself out of bed and went to feed Morgana. Anticipating the promise of food, Morgana jumped off the windowsill, and onto the table, where Ren portioned out a tin of tuna for him.

“What are you sighing so much for?” asked Morgana between bites. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s about Yusuke,” explained Ren. “And it’s pretty serious.”

“How serious?”

“I had to call an emergency meeting.”

“But those are only for—”

“When someone’s life is in danger. I know.”

Morgana cocked his head. “It’s that bad?”

“Yeah, it is. He fainted, he’s so thin, he’s not eating enough, and I’m really worried about him.”

Morgana flicked his tail. “I had to deal with some food insecurity back before I met you all,” he began.

“When you were a stray?”

“I wasn’t a stray. I’m not a cat!” snapped Morgana. “But yes, when I was homeless, food was hard to come by. Maybe Yusuke’s dealing with something similar?”

“Maybe. He is technically homeless…”

It sounded bad when he said it, which it was. Yusuke had technically been homeless for several months. Even so, it had never been a problem, as he had been living in the Kosei dorms since Madarame’s arrest. It wasn’t like he was out roaming the streets or something.

Maybe the dorms were the problem. There was no one there to check that Yusuke was eating. He could engage in whatever unhealthy habits he wanted, and no one would ever find out.

Ren threw the empty tuna can in the bin, and went to help Sojiro with the café, hoping that having something to do with himself would lessen his anxiety somewhat. It worked, but only a little.

 Ren dragged Futaba - who was still groggy, having just woken up moments ago - to the meeting, before setting her down at the table with a fresh cup of black coffee. Morgana came slinking down the stairs a few minutes later. Makoto was the first to arrive after that, followed shortly after by Haru.

Ten minutes after the agreed upon time, Ann and Ryuji both burst into the room, bickering as always. “I can’t believe you made us late,” snapped Ann, sliding into the booth.

“I didn’t make us late,” replied Ryuji. “You were the one who just had to fix your hair before we left.”

“Only because it got messed up while I was helping you find your housekeys.”

“I didn’t know they would be under the sofa! I have no idea how they even got there!”

“You’re such a moron.”

“And you’re not much better.”

Ann rolled her eyes. “I love you anyway dumbass,” she said, giving Ryuji a peck on the cheek.

Once everyone was settled at the table, Ren retold the story of the previous night. A hush fell over the table, and Ryuji was the first to speak up.

“What can we do to help?” he asked.

Ren sighed. “I really don’t know. This is some serious shit. I mean, you guys weren’t there, but it was terrifying. I could count his ribs through his shirt.”

“We have to do something,” said Makoto.

“But Yusuke doesn’t want to be helped,” sighed Ren. “He insisted that everything is fine, even though we both knew it wasn’t.”

“We could just… give him food,” said Ryuji. “We don’t need to make this complicated.”

“Don’t be stupid Ryuji,” snapped Morgana. “There’s no way that would work.”

“No, I’m with Ryuji on this one,” said Ren. “It’s a simple plan, but it could work. So, are we in agreement?” There was a murmur of acknowledgement around the table.

“Alright. Let’s do this,” said Futaba, taking a sip of her coffee.

***

Makoto - always the most organized of the group - was the first to enact her part of the scheme: making Yusuke eat lunch. Her plan was simple and would hopefully work. She had prepared the first phase of her plan that morning, all she had to do now was ‘coincidentally’ run into Yusuke and enact phase two.

It wasn’t that hard to spot Yusuke on the train platform, as he tended to tower a good few inches over people, just as he was doing here. She reminded herself to play it cool.

“Hey Yusuke. Fancy seeing you here,” she said, walking up to him.

“Ah, Good morning Makoto. It’s not that unusual. We do catch the same train line up until the first stop.”

“You’re right,” said Makoto, shifting a little in place, and rearranging her grip on the bag she was holding. Just come out and say it already… The words just wouldn’t form on her tongue.

Thankfully, Yusuke brought it up first. “What do you have there?” he asked.

“Oh this? I accidentally made too much lunch today, and the rest wouldn’t fit in my backpack. It’s such a pain to carry it around though…”

Come on. Get the hint already.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Yusuke, glancing up at the noticeboard for train arrival times. This absolute moron…

“Why don’t you take it?” she offered. “You’d be doing me a favor; I really don’t want to have to carry it around all day.”

Yusuke frowned. “Are you sure? It’s your food.”

“I’m certain.”

“If you insist.” Yusuke took the bag from Makoto with a cautious reverence. He glanced at her one last time, as if making sure that it was really okay to take it, before opening his backpack and placing it inside.

“Oh. I’ll need the lunchbox back,” said Makoto. “You can just come by my house after school and drop it off.” At that moment, the train came screeching onto the platform, and she and Yusuke both stepped in.

Mission accomplished.

***

Yusuke was working on a new painting when his phone rang. He was about to decline the call, but he recognized Ann’s number and picked up. Clearing his throat, he spoke. “Good afternoon.”

“Hey Yusuke! I’m going to that new café in Shibuya tomorrow. Do you want to come with me?” asked Ann.

“Are you sure?” asked Yusuke. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“It’s fine. I want to hang out with you.”

Yusuke thought for a moment but shook his head. “As kind as that is of you, I must decline, as I don’t have the money.”

“I’ll pay for you. Come on, it’s my treat.”

“I really shouldn’t…”

“I have pictures from that art showing I went to last week. I could show them to you.”

Yusuke was about to scoff – did Ann really believe that he could he bribed with pictures of an art showing? – but he stopped himself at the last moment.

He really wanted to see those pictures. He had been unable to attend the exhibit as it was during his exam week, but he had been following the artist online for some time and found their work both beautiful and inspiring.

Who knows if he’d get this chance again?

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll come.”

The next day, he arrived at the café at precisely the agreed upon time. Yusuke was one of those people who believe that being late was a terrible sin, comparable only to leaving one’s brushes in their water pot or wasting paint.

His eyes swept around the small café, and recognizing Ann’s distinctive blond hair, he walked over and sat down. There was already a wide array of cakes and pastries spread out across the table. Yusuke couldn’t stop his mouth from watering at the glorious sight, but he quickly reminded himself not to be greedy. This was Ann’s food, not his. He pulled his hands onto his lap, restraining himself.

Ann gave him a bright, cheery smile, and slid a slice of lemon cake towards him. “Here,” she said. “You like lemon cake, right?”

Yusuke stared down at the neat piece of yellow cake in front of him. His mother had made lemon cake for him once, when he was young. He didn’t remember the occasion – a birthday perhaps – but he remembered how it tasted. It was sour, yet sweet, and blindingly bright, like a drop of sunshine.

“Its my favorite,” he said, forcing back the memories. It wouldn’t do to cry over a piece of cake, like some kind of idiot. “How did you...?”

“Do you remember when Haru brought over those pastries the other day? When she offered you one, you reached right for the lemon cake without even stopping to look at any of the others. I assumed that’s because it was your favorite.”

“That was weeks ago. You remembered all this time?”

“Of course. It something that makes you happy, so I remembered it.”

“Huh.” Yusuke took the fork from the plate and cut himself a slice of the cake. It tasted just as good as he remembered.

He couldn’t help but remember what his mother said, as she handed him the piece of cake all those years ago. “That’s the great thing about this recipe. It lets you take something bitter and sad and turn it into something of melancholic beauty.”

“So, you wanted to see those paintings from the exhibit,” said Ann, pulling out her phone.

Ah, yes. That’s why they were here, wasn’t it? Yusuke almost didn’t care about it anymore; he just wanted to savor this flawless taste for one more moment. Blissful.

Even so, he pulled his attention towards Ann’s phone, where she had various pictures from the exhibition. He studied the artwork with a careful dedication, trying his best to etch every line and color into his mind. It was just as good as he expected from the young artist whose early work had enraptured him so.

As Ann rambled her way through many interpretations of the art that was on display, she made a point to push a few plates of sweets in front of Yusuke, who ate them dutifully.

Ann gave a secret smile.

***

Yusuke damn near tumbled over as Ryuji clapped him on the back, and he had to take a moment to steady himself. “Sup dude,” said Ryuji. “I’m going to the gym later. Wanna come?”

“I’m not really a fan of… those places…” mumbled Yusuke.

Ryuji was blissfully unaware of his friend’s apprehension. “I’ll treat you to beef bowl afterwards,” he offered.

Yusuke’s mouth watered at the promise, and he found himself nodding, quite without the preapproval of his mind. “Awesome man!” beamed Ryuji. “You don’t have to workout or anything if you don’t want to. You can just spot me. Anyways, I’ll see you there. What time do you wanna meet up?”

“Whatever time works for you.”

“Is like… five o’clock okay? I have to get changed into gym clothes and stuff.”

“As do I.” Did Yusuke even own gym clothes? He wasn’t certain. He had dropped out of gym class at the end of his first year of high school and never looked back. Even so, he was sure he’d find something to wear.

Rooting around in the deepest, most forgotten crevices of his drawers, he managed to find a pair of frayed, grey shorts and a tank top. These were classed as sporting attire, right? He pulled on the clothes and felt them completely dwarf his body.

He really didn’t want to ‘work out’ as Ryuji would put it. The last time he had done any massively strenuous exercise outside of the metaverse, which was sometime the previous year, he had fainted rather dramatically. It had been a particularly embarrassing moment, as it had happened in front of his entire class during gym and ended with him being carried off to the nurse’s office. He couldn’t help but fear that history would repeat itself.

He took a deep breath that did nothing to quell his nerves and left the dorms.

The gym smelt bad – that was Yusuke’s first thought. It absolutely reeked of sweat, and Yusuke couldn’t help but be a little intimidated by the various pieces of exercise equipment scattered around him that, in his opinion, looked more like torture devices.

Sometime while he was thinking, Ryuji snuck up on him and gave him a bone-crushing hug. “Sup dude. I’m so pumped about this!” said Ryuji. “I was gonna start with some cardio and then do some lifting. Do you want to join in?”

“Um… maybe?” mumbled Yusuke.

“Let’s just start and you can see how you feel. But go at your own pace and don’t push yourself too hard.”

Yusuke let out a murmur of agreement and headed towards the treadmills. If he was remembering correctly, running was cardio. He really didn’t want to run - it just made him feel tired and dizzy - but Ryuji was already setting up his machine, so Yusuke couldn’t drop out now.

He fiddled with the buttons until the treadmill was moving at a suitable pace and set himself into motion. It was invigorating, in a strange way. He even found himself somewhat enjoying the feeling of adrenaline pumping through his veins.

And then, once around half an hour had passed, Yusuke stumbled and had to grab ahold of the handle to keep from falling flat on his face. How graceful.

Ryuji turned off his machine and turned to his friend. “I think you’re a bit worn out,” he said. “Let’s take a break.”

Yusuke nodded breathlessly, and scrambled off the machine, desperately trying to catch his breath. When did he get this out of shape? He was startled when Ryuji threw him a bottle of water, which nearly smacked him on the side of the head.

“Go on,” said Ryuji. “Drink it.”

Yusuke’s thirst had gone unnoticed up until then, but he gratefully gulped down the drink. Somehow it had stayed graciously cool, even in the summer heat. Once he had drank all the water, Ryuji pressed something into his hand, going to drink his own bottle.

It was a protein bar. Yusuke had never had one of these before, but he knew that athletes ate them a lot. Even with the promise of chocolate chips – the message for which was printed on the side of the packet - Yusuke was cautious; he had never been a fan of new food.

He watched Ryuji tear open the packet of his bar and take a large chomp, looking for… something, though he wasn’t sure what. Permission maybe? He was used to asking others for food, whether that be Madarame, Natsuhiko or the school cook, and he wasn’t good at just taking things for himself.

Ryuji looked at him with a quizzical expression. “Why aren’t you eating? It’s really good. Give it a try.”

That’s all the permission Yusuke needed, and he took a bite. Not bad, actually. No one was more surprised than him when the entire bar was devoured in seconds. Maybe he was hungrier than he realized…

Ryuji took the empty bottle from him and threw it back into his backpack, before tossing the empty wrappers into the bin. “I’m going to do some weightlifting,” he said. “Will you spot me?”

“Of course.”

***

It was a hot day, and Yusuke was sweating like a pig. His back hurt too and he slightly regretted offering to help Haru with her gardening. Even so, Yusuke was a man of his word, and stubbornly refused to quit because of something as trivial as a little pain.

He rubbed the sweat from his brow and bent down to pull up the radish he was attempting to harvest. The damn thing just refused to move. He gave it one last tug and it suddenly came loose, sending him stumbling backwards, only just catching himself before he fell. Throwing the radish into the cardboard box at his feet, he went to start on the next row.

Haru appeared behind him and passed him a can of soda. It was chilled – she had probably got it from the vending machine – and Yusuke gulped it down in one go. Haru sipped her own can, glancing over at the box of vegetables she and Yusuke had spent all morning pulling out the ground. There was a good collection in there: some carrots, some radishes, a decent sized head of lettuce, a bag of green beans and more potatoes than Yusuke could count.

“We’ve had a good harvest,” said Haru.

Yusuke hummed in agreement, going back to pulling up radishes. Around an hour later, they were finally finished, and Yusuke said his goodbyes, about to collect his things and leave, when Haru stopped him.

“Wait a moment,” she said, pulling a plastic bag from her coat pocket, and picking a few handfuls of vegetables from the box. She handed them over to Yusuke with a smile. “Here, take these.”

“Are you sure?”

“Think of it as payment for your hard days work.”

Yusuke tightened his grip around the handle and nodded. “I’ve got to get home,” said Haru. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

***

Yusuke had spent the day with Ren, doing nothing in particular. At half past six, he announced his departure, but when he tried to leave, Sojiro stopped him, setting a hand on Yusuke’s shoulder. It was a strangely gentle touch, something Yusuke wasn’t used to, but he tensed under it regardless. “Why don’t you stay for dinner?” offered Sojiro. “I’m making curry.”

Ren appeared in the stairwell. “When are you not making curry?” he said.

“Watch your mouth young man,” laughed Sojiro.  Futaba giggled from her seat, and Ren smirked too. Yusuke couldn’t help but feel a little melancholic at the sight, longing for something he never really had. His hand twitched toward them, greedy and wanting, but he stopped himself.

“I want to stay,” he said. “But I’ll get in trouble. Curfew is at seven.”

“I’ll call your school and explain things. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Hesitation fluttered through Yusuke’s mind, but he forced it down. He wanted this, more than he had wanted anything in a long time. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

He let Futaba drag him all the way to Sojiro’s house, rambling all the way about an anime that she was watching, while Ren and Sojiro exchanged a secret grin behind him.

Yusuke had been in Sojiro’s house before, but this was the first time he had gotten a good look around. It really was just a normal house, with a slightly less normal family inhabiting it. Ren went to set the table, and Sojiro went to serve the food, Futaba helping him. Yusuke was caught in the middle, unsure of what to do. He didn’t want to get in trouble for doing something wrong, but at the same time, he hated just standing there, useless, and idle.

Eventually he settled for helping Ren lay the table, desperate to be at least a little helpful, and Ren did smile as he went over, which was a good sign. They laid the kitchen table together, and Yusuke surveyed the landscape. The kitchen was quite small, but a good enough size for a family of three. He wondered, briefly, if they ate breakfast together in the mornings.

The realization came to him, deep and cutting, that he hadn’t eaten breakfast, let alone a complete meal, with anyone since Natsuhiko left.  These days, he had grown used to eating his meals, when he remembered to eat them at all, alone in his dorm rooms, usually while working on something else. Food was always an after thought for him.

It was strange how much he missed it.

Sojiro came over, holding two plates of curry and Futaba trailed behind him, doing the same. Futaba handed a plate to Ren and Sojiro handed a plate to Yusuke. Once everyone was sat at the table, Yusuke waited for permission to eat, but wasn’t granted it.

It took a few moments for Ren to notice that something was wrong, but he eventually did, giving Sojiro a sharp nudge in the side and gesturing toward Yusuke. Sojiro quickly got the message and asked, “Why aren’t you eating son?”

The reply is simple, at least to Yusuke. “You didn’t tell me I could.”

“You can always eat here,” said Sojiro. “Whatever you want, and whenever you want it.”

Yusuke nodded slowly, picking up his spoon. Taking one last glance around the table, checking that it was really okay, he took his first bite. And then another. Soon, the plate was empty, and Yusuke had never felt so full in his life.

Futaba brandished her plate towards Sojiro like a knife. “I want seconds,” she demanded.

“Okay, okay. I’ll get you some more,” said Sojiro, standing up.

“I’ll have some more too,” said Ren, handing Sojiro his plate with just the slightest hint of a cocky smirk on his face. They all cast an expectant look to Yusuke.

Why not? He had room for a little more. “I’ll have seconds too,” he said. Sojiro smiled at him – a real genuine smile, something he had never seen from Madarame – and Yusuke decided he liked the feeling.

[hexusproductions]

Foxglove and Milo

Summary: Foxglove and Milo are two souls trapped in a pocket dimension, stuck in an endless time loop of survival and regeneration. Caught by Foxglove once again, Milo wonders why the guy hasn’t just killed him already.

Author’s Note: First full story for my horror OC Foxglove and his ‘survivor’ counterpart Milo! Very happy to get back into the swing of writing again. Trigger warnings for drugging, hallucinations, heavy physical scarring, violence/murder and character death.

The landscape was unrestrained nature as far as the eye could see. A mix of sparse trees and green-land, remains of structures that had fallen into ruin, and a graveyard with headstones jutting out from the earth. It was completely barren of people, minus two exceptions.

“How long are you keeping me here?” Milo complained, coughing under his breath. He was sitting in a cold patch of grass, propped against a stretcher bed. A few metres away, Foxglove was sitting on a wooden stool. The beak of his mask turned to look at Milo.

“What…? What do you mean...?” The question came partially muffled through the mask, the voice raspy and strained. Milo lifted one shoulder in a shrug. He paused before answering, looking around at their surroundings. Foxglove’s (home? Living quarters?) of whatever time loop dimension the two of them were stuck in, consisted of a caravan sunk into the ground. The roof and one side were ripped out, exposing its insides like a scavenged corpse. It contained all of Foxglove’s belongings, including Foxglove himself, and the stretcher bed Milo was currently slumped against.

“I mean here.” Milo continued, looking back to Foxglove. “You’ve won, you caught me. Congratulations. Now either kill me or let me go.” Foxglove’s head tilted to the side, considering Milo’s question now that he knew its meaning. Milo coughed again, spitting out a string of spittle from his lips. Foxglove’s living quarters were covered in the same fog as the rest of the endless landscape; a troublesome sweet-smelling mist that rolled low across the floor, wafting around moving calves and trying to reach open noses and mouths. It followed Foxglove around everywhere, spilling from the censer hanging from his staff. That same staff was currently standing against the still-intact wall, beside Foxglove’s foot.

“No…” Foxglove went back to the bowl in his hands, crushing and mixing various plant matter together. Milo’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“What’s the point of keeping me around?” He insisted, “You know as well as I do that it won’t be permanent. Nothing is.” Foxglove nodded, adding water from a glass bottle to the bowl of plant matter before setting both items carefully on the ground. Milo sighed, more of that lingering fog filling his lungs. He was starting to lose feeling in his feet and fingers. He slumped a little further against the stretcher, and he heard a quiet, amused chuckle behind the mask. “What?” 

Foxglove reached out and grasped his staff, using it as support to pull himself to his feet. The censer swung with every movement, disturbed and spilling out more of that damned herbalist’s concoction. He crossed the small space of the caravan, approaching where Milo sat. Foxglove was not an imposing man by physicality; even after years without any hard labour, Milo was still much stronger and broader in the shoulder than Foxglove was, and had been at least a little above average in the looks department in his old town. Yet as Foxglove stood over Milo, staring behind the black, unfeeling lenses of his bird-shaped mask, Milo shrunk underneath him.

“It won’t be long now…” Foxglove told him. He eased down slowly to a kneel, tilting Milo’s chin with a crooked finger before angling the staff down closer towards Milo’s face. “You’ll be gone soon enough...just wait…” Milo’s lip curled. He tried to inch further away from Foxglove, and he managed to make it a short distance despite the steadily spreading numbness in his limbs. Foxglove just watched him, leaning forward with interest, as if enjoying Milo’s reaction. Milo wasn’t sure which reaction was more intriguing - his response to the potion, or his slow, impending death.

“Crushing me would be faster.” Milo remarked. He launched into another coughing fit as Foxglove stood up again; wincing from a twinge of pain on the way up, but making it to his full height nevertheless. Milo squinted, shaking his head to try and clear his vision. Foxglove’s form was becoming blurry, shimmering into the dull black feathers of an avian beast. Its spine slouched, humanoid but with wings instead of arms, brandishing claws and talons designed for tearing flesh.

“Maybe.” A jagged beak croaked, before it turned back into just a mask. Foxglove shifted, inhaling a sharp intake of breath, and then walked over to the stretcher, sitting on its surface. Milo had lost track of how long Foxglove had been standing there before answering, too distracted by the monster that had briefly appeared in front of him.

“The hallucinations are starting again.” He deadpanned, only now realising that his face had become squashed against the stretcher’s metal frame.

“Good...” Foxglove replied. He patted Milo’s shoulder, then let the hand fall into his own lap.

Milo had become increasingly more familiar with the process of Foxglove’s preferred concoctions, after being trapped with the man for an eternity. It was an endless loop of Foxglove hunting Milo down and killing him. The methods varied, but the end result was almost always the same. Even when Milo had managed to escape Foxglove, he had never found a way out of this little piece of the world - a world. It had taken a long and gruelling amount of retries to find Foxglove’s caravan, and even longer to regularly visit without getting his skull caved in.

The skull-caver in question was still just sitting there, perched motionless on his bed as the staff kept drizzling poison around them. Summoning his will, Milo squirmed and struggled, trying to prop himself up. The hand he placed down slipped on the earth and he went tumbling backwards, his upper half falling out of the boundary of the caravan and onto the surrounding grass. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and the sharp intake that followed caused Milo to cough and retch on his own saliva. Once he had stopped choking, Milo’s eyes rolled upwards, the back of his head dragging against the ground as he looked at his close surroundings.

“...Is that Mary’s place? Over there?” Milo questioned, voice raising in realisation. He looked down; he could see all of Foxglove’s backside from here. His entire body was covered from head to toe in black and green cloth. He must have removed his mask while Milo wasn’t looking, because it now sat in the palm of his free hand.

“Over there.” Milo repeated. He tried to gesture, but his arms fell limp at his sides. His vision was going blurry again as Foxglove looked over his shoulder in the direction Milo had indicated. “I don’t know...I didn’t know her.” Foxglove replied, and turned back around. Milo stared at the fallen stone wall, upside-down from his point of view, before his mouth twisted down into a frown.

“Right…” He agreed quietly, before addressing Foxglove again, “Except you killed her.” Foxglove remained still, not even stirring at Milo’s accusation. Milo had gotten all this tears and cursing out years ago, but the memories still tied a knot in his stomach.

“Was that really necessary?” Milo sighed, looking at Foxglove’s back, “Did you ever consider another option?”

“Necessary?” Foxglove hissed. His grip tightened on the staff and he shoved the mask onto the bed, shooting to his feet. He approached stiffly around and out of the caravan, coming quickly towards Milo. Milo, eyes widening, tried to drag himself backwards, but his body was failing him, slipping uselessly.

“Was this necessary? Was this your town’s only option?” Foxglove’s boot pressed down on Milo’s thigh, keeping him in place. Milo stared as Foxglove threw the staff down beside him, crouching down and gripping Milo by the shirt, wrenching him upwards. “Did I deserve this?” Patchwork strands of dark hair fell out from beneath the snug inner hood of Foxglove’s clothing, partially obscuring his real face. Pale dead eyes were flooded with anger and hatred. Splotches of his pale skin were mottled with burnt scar tissue, completely surrounding the left side of his face and poking out from beneath his collar. “All of you voted to have me die at the stake. Did I deserve to be murdered?” Milo’s tongue twitched uselessly in his mouth, any response unable to escape his throat. Foxglove’s clenched fists were shaking, his normally slow tone instead clipped and venomous. His lips were twisted in a snarl as he yanked Milo closer towards his face, making sure it was all Milo could see. “Are you happy now? Did this help you when you all decided I couldn’t?” Foxglove’s voice cracked, and he threw Milo down against the dirt. Milo sank beneath the top of the fog, engulfed by it. He tried to breathe fresh air into his lungs, the intake coming in a wheeze. It was becoming hard to focus, but he managed to recognise the sudden grip around his jaw, prying it open.

“Here. Breathe deep.” The bird-creature’s voice ordered. His other hand tangled in Milo’s hair, wrenching his head back from the opposite end, so it was impossible not to inhale the dense toxin. “Maybe this dosage will cure your ailment.” Milo’s eyes were watery and bulging as they stared at Foxglove; he tried desperately to struggle, to speak, to do anything. Foxglove, or the creature, its own pale eyes were burning into him, watching his vision tunnel. His lungs were burning, and the numbness was replaced by a warmth, spreading across the rest of his body and torturously pleasant and welcoming. The grip on his jaw and in his hair remained like a vice. Milo looked up to the sky above them, the dark sky with barely a star in sight. He heard the garbled choking sounds from his own throat as his vision gave out, the warmth overtaking him, and he felt himself fading, falling into the sensation. The very last thing he could feel was his lungs screaming for oxygen as he slipped from the world once more, as he had over and over again for centuries.

[noladyme]

Chess. Chapter 3

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

 TW: sexual harassment/assault, torture, sexual themes

I don’t know how many days passed. In the dark, days and nights flowed together; making it difficult to keep up a daily rhythm that made sense.

I lived from meal to meal. Not that I ate much of what they sent in, which was usually more of those little pellets in water; and every third meal, being something cold and mushy, that smelt conspicuously like canned cat food. It took me about 6 “meals”, to finally accept that this is what it actually was. With the canned food I’d get a thin slice of stale toast. This – along with a plastic cup of water – was all I consumed for a long time.

Every once in a while, I’d hear Griggs voice through the speaker, reminding me he was still there. He’d tell me to get ready; meaning I had to face the wall opposite the door, hands and legs spread. They’d come in then, the guards, usually fronted by the man himself, and flip over the mattress, pretending to search my cell for contraband.

That’s when he’d stand behind me, pressing himself against my back. His hands would wander, patting me down everywhere, even the parts of my body not covered by clothing. After a final squeeze of my asscheek; he’d turn around and proclaim; “She’s clean”. They’d back out the door, shut it, and it would be dark again.

During one of these visits, I’d had enough, and as Griggs hand wandered towards my groin area, I quickly grabbed his hand, twisting his fingers until I heard a crack.

“Bitch!”, Griggs screeched, elbowed me in the side; and as I feel to the floor, I suddenly had three guards on me, kicking me on my sore hip, and on my ribs. One of the kicks pushed the air out of me, and as I desperately tried to regain control of my breathing, they backed out the door, leaving me there alone.

Maybe 10 minutes later, the speaker howled in the darkness.

“That was not very nice, puss”, Griggs said. “You know, I’ve tried to play nice with you; even breaking the budget on those canned foods you’ve been getting. No more. It’s time you settle in for the long haul”.

Music played, at first at a low volume; but then increasing, until it felt like my head was going to explode from the sound. It would stay like that for about 30 seconds, before being lowered again. It continued like this; music turning up and down, with the highest volume being so intense, no amount of covering my ears seemed to help. My heart beat fiercely, and I could even feel the veins of my fingers pounding. I curled up in a seated position.

After what seemed like forever, the music stopped. I exhaled, and removed my hands from my ears; my biceps stinging from how long and forcefully I had been covering them. I laid down, ears ringing; and I could hear the blood pumping through my body. My ribs and my hip were pulsating in pain.

I closed my eyes, and my body began to give in to sleep.

The music started again. Same pattern as before. I screamed, but at the height of the music, I couldn’t even hear my own voice. That’s when I passed out.

---

“Chess”, a familiar voice called. “Y/N!”. I came too, slowly.

“No more”; I whispered into the darkness; lips and tongue dry.

“Cover your eyes. I’m turning on the lights”. I recognized the voice then. Flag. With great effort, I covered my face with my arm, curling up into a fetal position. I heard the sound of the fluorescent lights flickering on. Then footsteps and keys rattling outside the door.

“Three goddamn days? She’s been out for three days?!”, Flags voice boomed on the other side of the door. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”.

The door opened, and through the crack of my bended arm, I saw boots walking towards me.

“We thought she was faking it, sir”, Griggs answered Flag.

I felt a hand on my waist, and winced in pain.

“What the hell did you do to her?”, Flag growled.

“She attacked me, sir. My men might have gone a bit overboard”, Griggs retorted.

I blinked, the light still too sharp for my eyes. Flag took a hold of my arm, pulling it away from my face. My eyes hurt, but I looked up at him. His expression was pained.

Putting an arm around my waist, he pulled me up into a seated position. I looked down at my body. I was filthy, covered in dust; and my arms and legs looked skinnier than the last time I’d seen them.

“Can you stand?”, Flag quietly asked me. His eyes were worried.

I tried to get onto my knees, but was too dizzy; and fell back onto my butt. Flag got behind me, and carefully slipped his arms through mine; lifting me onto my feet.

I was weak, and tried to take a wobbly step forward, falling back into his arms. He lifted my arm, and put it around his neck, dragging me with him.

“Help me out, Edwards”, Flag said, and a man with a stubbled face, standing a few inches shorter than Flag, took my other arm around his own neck. Half walking, half carrying me out of the cell, we passed Griggs, who was standing outside. I saw that his hand was in a cast of some kind; and smiled at the fact that I’d made my mark.

They walked me down a dimly lit corridor. Was I in a basement? The doors we passed were all closed, and I wondered if there were other prisoners behind them.

At the end of the hall were stairs, and the two soldiers dragged me up them, until we came to a new corridor, cleaner and brighter than the one we had come from. They took me to a room, sparsely furnitured with a metal table, and two chairs on either side of it. A clock over the door told me it was 3 o’clock.  Am or pm, I didn’t know. Interrogation, I told myself, and the men seated me in a chair, handcuffing me to the table.

On one wall was large mirror, which I knew would be a two way.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The person staring back at me was someone I didn’t know. Her face was gaunt, eyes dark; and she was black and blue on one side of her torso. Well hello, gorgeous, I laughed at myself.

“Something funny?”, Flag asked me, on his way out the door.

“Just that stick up your ass”, I answered, and smiled as brightly as I could.

He closed the door behind him.

One hand free, I ran my fingers through my hair; matted from my ordeal.

I waited for about 30 minutes. Something smelled rancid, and I realized it was me. I hadn’t bathed for who knew how long; but it would obviously have to wait.

The door opened again, and in stepped the woman from the van, followed by Flag, who was looking everywhere but at me. The woman sat down, and pulled out a paper file folder.

“My name is Amanda Waller”, she said.

“I know who you are”, I said, and leant back in the chair, trying for casual. “I also know you’re here to make me an offer I can’t refuse. Literally. You’ll kill me if I do”.

Waller smirked. “I won’t, but the guards at this place might. Apparently, you broke the captains favorite jerking hand”.

“So you’ve been listening in”.

“We have. And though I am not happy with the way things have turned out, it seems all of this was necessary to keep you in line”, Waller retorted. “Let me get down to the point. Me and the colonel here, lead a group of people with special skills. For some reason you know this already; so you probably also know that each of these individuals are people, who most of the good people of The United States would rather see behind bars, or even executed”. She narrowed her eyes at me. “Before I continue, please humor me; how did you know of us?”.

“I knew about you. I didn’t know about Mr. Tall, Lean and Grumpy here”, I said, and nodded my head in Flags direction. His expression remained calm, but his lips twitched once; revealing that my answer had made an effect.

“Hear that, Flag? Your cover remains unblown. Good for you”. Her cold eyes remained on me. “Now answer the question, Y/N”.

“There are whispers. About a cold bitch who is tracking people like me; to use our… special skills”, I repeated her own words.

“But there really is no one like you, is there, Chess?”. She stood up, and opened the folder. “Y/N Y/L/N. A.k.a. Chess. Short for Cheshire?”.

“Nah, that name was taken”, I smirked.

“Right. You don’t strike me as someone with martial arts skills and venomous nails”, she said, looking down at my chipped black polish.

“I can scrap with the best of them, if necessary”.

“I’m counting on it”. She continued. “B minus high school student, until you had a run in with Jervis Tetch, a.k.a. The Mad Hatter. Experimenting with a device he hoped would render himself invisible, he tested it out on one of his kidnapping victims. You”.

I winced. The memory of that event was something I’d rather have been left alone.

“It backfired. Without going in to the scientific details, it made you able to become invisible at will, without using the aforementioned device. He decided to use you for his own criminal activity, and for a few years, you worked for him as a cat burglar and spy. During one of his stints in Arkham Asylum, you decided to become an independent contractor”.

I sat up straight, daring her to continue. She sat back down.

“Burglary. Car theft. Stealing official documents from the FBI – impressive!”, she smiled. “Kidnapping of a senators daughter. Possession of an illegal drug substance?”.

“Actually those last ones were a two for one”, I laughed. “And it wasn’t so much a kidnapping as great weekend in Vegas. She was fully in to it. We almost got married”. The clerk at the chapel had refused to go through with the ceremony, because he was worried, we were under the influence of drugs. It might have been the smell of the half smoked blunt in my pocket that gave us away. “Stephanie? Tiffany? I can’t remember her name”.

“Melissa”, Flag said from behind Waller.

“Right. Melissa!”, I smirked. “You could bounce a nickel of her ass. Was she an ex of yours?”, I smiled at him. He scoffed.

Waller continued. “You’ve avoided arrest on most of your charges; I suppose, due to your condition”.

“My ability to smile”, I said.

“Yes, that’s right. Before you become invisible, you purr and smile. Is there a reason for this?”, she goaded me on. I knew it didn’t make any sense to be secretive, so I decided to be up front with her.

“I don’t know. That’s just how it is. When I need to disappear, my body vibrates, which sounds like a purr. The smile is what sends signals to my brain, to bend light around my body, or an object I’m touching; which then becomes invisible. Serotonin, dopamine… whatever. It works”. I sighed. “Where are we going with this?”.

“Task Force X, under the day to day leadership of Colonel Flag, has an opening. I want you to fill that spot”.

“Why?”, I asked, genuinely wondering.

“Because making things and people disappear is handy, in some of the missions the Force may have coming up”.

“But what is in it for me?”

“10 years of your sentence, per mission”, Waller replied, and closed the file.

“What sentence? I haven’t done anything in a long time”, I said, voice shaking lightly.

“16 months ago, judge Jeremiah Kelper disappeared for a week, before an anonymous tip led the police to him, bound, bloody and gagged, in a warehouse on Gotham Harbor”. Waller folded her hands in front of her, and met my eyes again. “When he woke up at the hospital, he was ranting about a “ghost” that had drugged him, dragged him to the warehouse; and held him for days, tied to a chair. The “ghost” had beat him several times with a pipe, and… well, let’s not get further in to that”.

I couldn’t help but smile. “Sounds like someone had it in for him”.

“Sounds like”, Waller half whispered. “I also know that Kelpers records are much cleaner than he is. But then there’s the money”.

“What money”, I asked, looking first at Waller, then up at Flag, who smirked at me.

“1 million dollars, cash, disappeared from a safe at Wayne Tower, two months ago. What did you spend it on?”, he asked.

Shit, they got me, I thought. “I donated it”.

“Some of it”; Waller said, and reopened the file. “987.000 dollars were donated anonymously to a local shelter for battered women, two days later”.

I leant forward; and Flag quickly took a step towards the table, putting his arm in front of Waller.

“Calm down, soldier”, I said. “From what I hear, The Wayne Foundation matched my donation to the same shelter, not long after”.

“You’re right”, Waller said. “It seems to me, you want to be one of the good guys”. I smirked again. “But you’re not. You’re a villain, Y/N – one of the bad guys. But you can make that badness have a purpose”.

I leant back again, and Flag relaxed, stepping back. He folded his arms – those arms – and leant against the wall, toying with the id-card attached to his t-shirt sleeve.

“Show me what you can do”, Waller demanded.

“I can’t”, I said, looking back at Wallers now surprised face. “I need energy to smile, and for the last – what – month or so, I’ve been living on stale toast and kibble”, I admitted.

“Flag”, Waller said, and the soldier took a candy bar from his pants pocket, and placed it in front of me. With my free hand shaking, I opened the wrapper, and put it to my lips. Taking a bite of the heavenly chocolate, feeling the wonderful sensation of sugar rushing through my system; I moaned.

“Mhmm”. Flag stepped back to wall again, looking uncomfortable at my sounds. I couldn’t help myself. “Got anything else in those pants for me?”, I purred; and as he quickly looked away from my face, I smiled.

Touching the table with my free hand, it went away in a mist, making the file folder look as if it was floating in midair.  Wallers eyes went wide. I kicked of one slipper, touching the floor with my bare foot, and suddenly, the floor was gone, leaving the three of us as if standing on clear glass.

Looking down, I saw a cell, no bigger than my own had been, though better furnished; with a cot, a toilet, a couple of nudie posters, and a tiny table. In the middle of the room stood a rugged looking man, clutching a toy unicorn in his arms. He looked up, eyes large; before looking towards Waller. He smiled widely, gold tooth gleaming, and though I couldn’t hear what he was saying, it was clear it was along the lines of “I see London, I see France, I see Wallers underpants”. Waller crossed her legs quickly, and looked at me, with a mix of horror and excitement plastered on her face.

“Enough!”, she shouted.

That’s when I made myself disappear before their eyes.

Flag and Waller looked around the room trying to find me, before Flag ran across the invisible floor, towards the chair, grabbing for what I guess he thought would be my shoulder, but ended up being my right breast. Confused at the softness, his brow furrowed.

My energy gave out. The floor, the table, and lastly my body, reappeared. Realizing where his hand was, Flag jumped back, looking at his hand, face reddening. “Thanks for that”, I smiled at him flirtatiously. He turned his back to me and clenched his guilty hand into a fist.

“I think I’ve seen everything I need to”, Waller said, standing back up again, picking up the folder. “Training starts tomorrow. Once the colonel has calmed down a bit, he’ll make sure you get a proper meal”. She went for the door.

“Waller!”, I stopped her dead in her tracks. “Tell me, did Kelpers balls ever pop back down?”.

She smiled crookedly at me. “I hear he’s going to need some reconstructive surgery”.

She walked out the door, leaving me with Flag.

Flag unlocked the cuffs, and pulled me up. “Think you’ll be able to walk yourself this time?”.

I leant towards him, putting my hands on his chest. Fuck, you’re firm, I thought.

“I might need a little help. Feel free to grab a hold of me anywhere”, I beamed at him.

Flag roughly put my arms behind my back, and cuffed them together. “Let’s go, kitten”, he scoffed, and pushed me in front of him, out of the door. My friends The Tweedles were waiting outside. “Get her back to her cell. Make sure the lights are on until 2200 hours. And get her a proper meal”.

As Tweedle Dee and Dum supported my still weak body walking down the hall, I looked back at Flag.

“You like me”, I flirted, and his face reddened again, before he turned around, and walked in the opposite direction.

[duskypinkbow]

Shitty weather II Jeff Wittek

summary: You meet Jeff again after a long period of time.

word count: 3,4k (upsy daisy)

note: This is my first fic ever so pls bear with me! :)

A veery very big shoutout to my lil angle @geoffwittek for proofreading and correcting my mistakes! Love u gurl u r the best 🎀

“The house could be packed“ Natalie took the time to warn you. You waved her off while putting your bag between your legs „that’s totally fine“.

As you two drove through LA traffic you looked out at the sky and noticed the clouds are getting grey. „it might rain today..“ you determined, while the two of you continued your conversation. Finally, you pulled up at her house, or to be more specific, David’s house she happened to be living in. Nat parked the car in front of the gate due to the fact that the entrance was already blocked by other cars. Your friend looked at her phone „yeeep“ she said as the scrolled through her messages „there is definitely something going on here…“ - „oh, well I can always leave right away if it gets too much“ you promised while unbuckling your seatbelt and making your way to the house.

„Daaaaavid!“ she screamed, falling to the ground in fear. „You can’t do that to me!“ she complained as her hands rested over her heart. The brown-haired boy giggled, his phone still recording in his hands. After putting it back in his pocket he helped Natalie stand up again. „That’s my idiot roommate..“ Natalie explained to you. „aaaaand boss“ he added smugly, smiling from ear to ear. He stuck his hand out towards you. „David“ he said - „y/n“ you introduced yourself in return.

Once the introductions were done, you observed a big living room further down the hallway. „Come with me…“ Natalie instructed “I’m gonna show you my closet“. You followed her steps through the living room, which was indeed packed with people. Some of them sitting on the big white couch while others were leaning on the kitchen island. Natalie greeted them with a shouted hello, while you just waved shyly in an attempt to symbolise a well meant greeting to all of them.

In the bedroom, your best friend showed you her very well organised closet filled with dresses and fancy skirts alike. „What size shoes are you?“ she asked. “umm.. y/s/s..“ you answered while looking through the endless hangers. „damn, so I can’t give you those fanc-„ before she could even finish her sentence a loud „Naaataaalieee“ came from the hallway. „ugh“ she groaned, reluctantly setting the pair of high heels down. “I’ll be right back..“ you softly nodded and continued to look through her closet.

After some time had passed you still couldn’t decide between three of her alluring dresses. You put the hanger of one of them above your head so that it was hanging clearly in front of your body. „Oh you would look so cute in that one!“ Natalie said as she was re-entering her room. You smiled at your reflection in the big mirror. „Don’t you think it’s a bit too much for a wedding?“ you asked, still a little uncertain. „Absolutely not!“ she denied your worries. „When is the wedding anyways?“ - „in like three month..“ you answered, still glancing in the mirror while posing a little for yourself in assessment. „Then just take this one and the other two… you can decide closer to the day.“ you looked up, in slight disbelief at her offer.  „I mean it..“ she asserted „I won’t need them…at least not in the next couple of months“ her words reassuring you.

With the dresses in your arms, you made your way to the hall in order to leave the big house again. You waved your goodbyes to the people still sitting and chatting in the living room.

As you made a turn in the hallway your head collided with a solid chest, your body almost falling down at the sudden loss of balance. Instead, two hands rested on your shoulders, effectively preventing the fall. „sorry i didn’t see-“ you said while looking up to be met with a pair of brown eyes. Your mouth remained slightly open, the rest of the apology stuck in your throat. It’s been almost six years since you last saw him.

~ 

You met on a rainy day in late autumn. Your clothes soaking wet as you stepped through the door of the studio. „shitty weather out there huh?“ first words he ever spoke to you. „tell me about it“ you nodded, focused on trying to wring out your soaked hair. „I don’t think that will help“ he chuckled lightly. The first time you heard his laugh, the handsome boy looked at you with a little smirk. „heey..can we get a hairdryer or somethin’ for her?“ he requested the man who was passing through the room, his right hand pointing in your direction. „Yeah I can grab one, you guys here for the shoot?“ the employee asked. Both of you nodded simultaneously „Perfect. Could you get ready in here?“ he instructed you on where to go and promised someone would bring the hairdryer.

It was silent on your way in before he decided to end the quiet by asking: „Sooo..is this your first job?“ - „umm, second“ you answered shyly, a bit intimidated by his hight, especially next to your smaller figure. „Is it that obvious?“ you asked, now a little embarrassed, questioning if you already did something wrong. He chuckled again „not at all“ he reassured, holding the correct door open for you „Jus’ wanted to start a conversation “ you smiled, feeling your cheeks flush at his straightforwardness.

„Yeah, I actually have another job in like two weeks“ you said while on the phone, a little after you two began to take some photos for the launching clothing line. „No…- I guess.. - no I need to find a new place for that time.. - yeah.. - worst case scenario I will just go to a hostel or rent a cheap hotel room…- i mean I’m just sleeping there right? - no yeah...i understand.. - i should really get going now.. - i’ll call you back okay? okay.. bye“ you end the call and return next to the tall stranger you just met, waiting for instructions on what’s next in the shoot.

„uhmm“ he begins shyly, still looking to the cameraman who was adjusting his camera. „not to be nosey..but did i hear that right? You need a place to live or something?“ you looked at his side profile, explaining your current situation. „Alright, so about that..“ he interrupts, glancing between you and photographer. „A friend of mine has a spare room going in his apartment. He’s actually already looking for a new roommate, but that could be postponed. If you want to I could call him up and ask if it would be okay for you to stay there?” - „wait.. deadass?“ you ask, his generous offer shocking you. „well, I mean only if you want to?“  He looked down to observe your reaction. „I- yeah..- i mean your friend won’t murder me right?“ you joke, looking up and into his warm. He’s the first to break the eye contact, glancing at the cameraman again. „He’s one of the nicest guys I know out there…“ he assures with a small smile present. „He is so fucking nice, wouldn’t even kill a fly…“ his words of comfort continue. „Well, then yes, please I am totally willing to take you up on that offer“ is your enthusiastic response, his full attention back on you & a genuine smile decorating the handsome features. „Alright...I will ask him after the shoot is over then..“ - „Thank you so much!… it really means a lot -...umm?“ you begin, hopeful of catching his name „Oh shit yeah, guess I never introduced myself right?“ the man realised. „..My name is Jeff“ he said, reaching out for your hand „Yeah right“ you chuckle, not about to fall for his joke. „No, really..“ the smirk is back on his face. „Oh, so you are an undercover police officer just like me?“ you whisper, hoping he might catch the 21 Jumpstreet reference. „damn..“ he mutters while searching in his back pocket „this fuckin’ movie really ruined my life..“ his hand emerges with a wallet, the ID in it soon handed to you. „Jeffery Wittek..“ you read aloud „the one and only..“ he confirms still smiling softly at you.

After the shoot was over Jeff called up his friend, confirming it would be alright if you stayed with him. The very next day he helped you take all of your stuff over to his friend’s apartment.

In the weeks that followed, the two of you grew inevitably close. Although both busy with work & other responsibilities on some days, you still managed to spend at least a few hours each day together.

Sometimes he just checked in on you, making sure to ask if everything was alright. On other occasions, he visited his friend and stayed the whole day to do nothing but spending time together.

You showed him pictures of places you have been to, in return, he would share his childhood memories. You even told him about your plans for the future, while Jeff opened up about his past. It became your favourite pass time to make jokes about his inability to read properly, to which he would only tease about your short height.

Throughout your stay, the pair of you talked almost every night, about everything, just because it came so easily between you two. Always enjoying every second of valuable time together, not wanting it to end.

One of those nights, you finally built enough courage to admit that you were moving out of the country to live in Italy with your boyfriend. In reply, Jeff confessed his plans to move out to LA cause he met a girl.

Your friendship started innocently. Neither of you would have thought that it could ever build into such an intense and deep connection within the short amount of time. You were strangers only days ago, now openly sharing secrets usually too afraid to tell even the closest of friends. Maybe it was because both of you understood the reflected lack of ulterior motives in honesty. After all, you made sure to just keep things friendly, flirting carefully avoided. Or because you knew both of you were leaving, that alone reason enough not be dishonest with each other. Whatever it was, it started to become a little dangerous with time, you all too aware that the two of you were playing with the fire.

Time continued to pass, you could feel yourself begin to like the familiar boy more and more. Your heart would beat faster any time you saw him, breathing stopping for a second every time his skin touched yours. It continued on: you would get lost in his beautiful eyes whenever he looked at you, asking yourself if he could feel the same way you were. If there could ever be more. You did your best to stop those thoughts immediately, reminding your mind how you were about to leave the country for your boyfriend, whom you loved and didn’t want to betray. Besides, Jeff started to see that girl.

One night, Jeff's friend decided to hold a little get together with some of his friends, your stay in the apartment effectively forcing you to take part. Everyone had their fun, all chatting & playing drinking games on a cheerful night.

After a while, some of you somehow ended up on the rooftop of the building. Most of the people out there just wanting to get a bit of fresh air or have a cigarette, but you went up solely to enjoy the view. You loved going up to the roof just to see the shining lights of the city that doesn’t sleep.

„So your stay here is coming to an end huh?“ Jeff was the one to interrupt your admiring, walking up to you, while you looked out to the lights. You nodded „yeah“ the word spat out sadly before taking another sip of your drink. „I never thought three weeks could be over with so quickly..“ his words carried a sad undertone. „Me neither..“ you acknowledged, „i think i did and saw more in those three weeks with you than ever before“ he chuckled at the true words. „yeah.. we experienced quite a lot of New York together“ he made sure to exaggerate with his accent, sight remaining locked on you.

When you finally looked up at him, you couldn’t help but tease „So.. Is the tough Wittek gonna miss me?“ you asked jokingly while running your hand through his wind tousled hair. „Of course i will.“ he admitted. „Haven’t had so much fun in a long time..“. A smile sneaked its way across your face „oh your gonna have fun again when you are reunited with your special lady.“ you rebutted, oblivious to how his smile faded a little. Of course he would have fun again he thought. But the girl he was seeing right now wasn’t you. She was funny, but her humour couldn’t compare to yours. She was beautiful but she didn’t have those cute little dimples, which only showed when you laughed aloud. She had a promising career in front of her, but she just wasn’t you. „I guess…“ he eventually replied, still deep in thought about the girl who couldn’t compare.

You took another sip of your drink and gazed away into the distance before finally glancing at the man who had your heart.  „I think you- ..you have a little eyelash on your cheek“ Jeff said, abandoning his drink in favour of stepping a little closer and moving his hands up to your face.

One of them rested gently on your cheek, to give your head some balance as he titled it upwards, the other grazing right under your eye to get the fallen lash. His fingers lightly brushed over your skin, grasp so gentle on your face as if it was something precious. As if it could break if he put too much pressure on your little cheek. It was the very first time you really let yourself look him in the eyes tonight. Not that you haven’t looked into the brown pools before, but this time, in the light of the city, just inches away from your face, you really saw the artistic strokes of the different shades of brown melting together. You saw how the dark parts covered up the few light spots,  saw his kindness and how much he truly cared about you, all by simply looking into his beautiful brown eyes.

His hand stayed on your cheek, despite the lash being long gone. You breathed out audibly, lost in the present moment. The scent of his cologne travelling up and into your nose in the proximity you two shared right now. „we should-..probably get back to the party…“ he whispers slowly, involuntarily glancing at your lips while his palm moved from its hold on your cheek to the back of your neck. „mhmm“ you could only hum lightly in response, feeling your heart starting to beat faster, slowly rising to your tippy toes. Your face is slowly inching closer to his &  then you can feel his breath on your lips, eyes starting to close on their own accord, the two of you so close and right before your lips could touch - „Paarty time!“ one of Jeff's friend accidentally interrupts, tipsy shouting entering the rooftop. The two of you pull back immediately, not wanting him or anyone else to witness the kiss you almost shared. The friend walks obliviously towards Jeff. „man we thought you’ve left already!“ his word stuttered drunkenly. „No, I wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye“ he chuckles away as if  the moment you two just had never happened.

You had three more days in New York after that slip up before you finally left for Europe. Neither Jeff nor you mentioned the moment you two had together. After that night, and after you both finally sobered up, you convinced yourself that Jeff was too drunk to even remember what could have happened. His own thoughts were similar. Both of you far too scared to say something and ruin the time left. You were too embarrassed because Jeff had already started to date that girl he thought he liked, not to forget you were in a relationship with a boy you thought you were in love with . Both too cowardly to admit that there is indeed a spark there.

As your last day has come Jeff and his friend escorted you to the airport. „Man it will be so weird not having you around anymore y/n“ Jeffs friend said while driving through New York traffic. You looked out of the window in the backseat of the car. „I’m really gonna miss this..“ you stated, now slyly looking at Jeff, sitting in the passenger seat without returning your longing glances. In reality, what you would really miss..is him. You would miss his high pitched laugh, dark sense of humour and dry jokes, his warm and caring hugs and especially, his presence in your life. Not knowing if you would ever see him again or if you will ever come back to America again.

Jeff and his friend lead you to your gate, saying their goodbyes, promising to visit you in Italy someday, assuring that you’ll always be welcome if you decide to return. You hugged your new friend, who allowed you to stay in his apartment so graciously  before looking up at Jeff. „Come here..“ he says, opening his arms for your embrace. Your arms wrapped around his waist, his head resting atop of yours. You breathed in heavily, trying to hold back the inevitable tears. He stroked your back in comfort „I’m really gonna  miss you y/n/n..“ he conceded in a whisper. „me too..“ you admitted as well. „Promise me we will see each other again?“ Jeff asked, now looking down at you, while your own gaze travelled up to his eyes. You smiled sadly „I promise..“ you nodded with watery eyes. He hugged you again, saying your last goodbyes before you left to get your flight.

~

Jeff’s hair was slightly wet from the rain outside, a similar expression of shock on his face.„wow..uh, what?“ you let out, first to break the silence between you. „wow…“ he repeated dumbfounded. His hands were still resting holding onto your upper arms before he eventually raised them to his head in an act of disbelief. He shook his head, not sure if this was really happening right now, if it was really you in front of him. „I-„ you started again, but before you could keep talking he quickly forced you into a tight embrace.

His hands went back to your shoulders, still unsure if it was really you „This is insane..“  He muttered eventually, „it is..“ you confirmed. „How long has it been?“ Jeff was quick to ask while you still struggled to grasp the situation. „Almost 6 years..“ you uttered lightly.

„How’s Vince?“ he couldn’t help but ask with interest. „Oh...we uh, we broke up a while ago..“ you admitted, remembering your days in Italy. „oh I’m so sorry.“ the reply was sympathetic. „Yeah..how is Cierra?“ you asked in return, curious about the girl he started to see when you guys just met. Jeff glanced over into the living room, suddenly aware of all who were witnessing your reunion. „we also broke up a while ago..“. The information delivered with no emotions. You nodded lightly, unsure on how exactly to react or respond.

You checked your phone to look at what time it was, „I should probably go now..“ you mentioned, breaking the short moment of silence between you two. „Yeah..“ Jeff nodded, freeing your way to the exit. As made your very first step towards the door he stopped you by saying „Listen, before you go, can i get your num-“ before he could even end his sentence you interrupted „-just ask Natalie for it“ you informed him, „‚cause if you won’t, i’ll promise you that i will..“ you stepped closer to the door while teasing. „I’m not gonna lose touch with you again Wittek..“ you reveal and he chuckles.

Just when you were reaching for the front door again Jeff stopped you „y/n..“ you turn to look back at him, seeing that his stretched out hand held an umbrella „Here, take this..“ he demands softly „S’shitty weather out there..“ he adds with a little knowing smirk.

[queen-ofsunflowers]

Falling and Rising: Chapter 14 Preview

All for One

“Tell us your plan,” said Todoroki.

“The thing is,” Midoriya looked away and started rubbing at his wrist, “it’s all going to depend on him.” Right… Ruby remembered what Bakugo said to them before he disappeared through the portal. He told them to stay back. To not come after him. “If I did the plan myself, I don’t think it would work. So… I think it’s best if Kirishima…” Midoriya turned to the redhead. “You’re the key to our success!”

Kirishima gasped, confused. “Me?”

“Only two people have Kacchan’s respect — and that’s you and Rose. He told Rose to stay away from here. He won’t come if she calls. But you… You're different.” Ruby glanced between Kirishima and Midoriya. Midoriya was right. For whatever reason, Bakugo didn’t want her there. Maybe it was because she was a target or because of his pride, or whatever, Ruby would figure out later.

“What’s your plan, Midoriya?” Jaune asked him. “We’re going to need a little more than just that.”

“Right. Here’s what I’m thinking.” Midoriya began to count off the steps on his fingers. “First, we’ll propel ourselves using my Quirk, combined with Iida’s Recipro. Then, using Kirishima’s Hardening, we’ll break through the wall. The second we’ve cleared it, Todoroki will make a huge slab of ice for us. As high as he possibly can. The villains haven’t noticed us yet. Up until now, they’ve been able to outmaneuver us. But we’re finally in the position to get the jump on them. And we’ll cross the battlefield at a height that they’ll never hope to reach.”

A sharp gasp resonated throughout the group. That was his plan?! The more Ruby thought about it, the more she believed that—

“Are you out of your mind?” said Iida in a harsh whisper. ...That wasn’t exactly what Ruby was thinking at all. It was actually a pretty clever idea, if risky.

“Kacchan will have realized the situation that All Might’s in,” Midoriya quickly explained. “Right now, the guy in charge of the villains is holding All Might back. But that means the reverse is true, too.”

Todoroki nodded. “I agree.”

Midoriya glanced back at the fight and bit his lip. “He’s staying on the defensive with his enemies, keeping his distance. That’s good for us. We have to move when he’s got some space between him and the villains. But the last part all rests on Kirishima.” He turned to the person in question. “It’s no good if I do it. Or Todoroki, or Iida or Yaoyorozu or even Rose. Ever since school started, you’ve built a solid relationship with Kacchan as equals! If his friend calls out to him… If you call out to him, Kirishima, he’ll listen!”

There was a beat. Kirishima’s eyes were wide, as if what Midoriya just told him was something that he only realized now. Given what happened at the training camp, what Midoriya said about Bakugo respecting Ruby was probably true. But they weren’t as close as him and Kirishima. There was still something keeping them from completely getting past their initial feelings towards each other. All that animosity and anger… Bakugo never hated Kirishima like he did Ruby the first few days of school. While things were changing, it was clear.

This was something only Kirishima could accomplish.

“All…” Kirishima swallowed something. His eyes hardened with determination. “Alright!”

“It is a gamble,” said Iida, deep in his thoughts and weighing his options. “But all things considered, there’s not much risk to us. And more importantly, it could change the tide of this fight.” He looked up at Midoriya. “...I’m in. But what about the rest of you? When we have Bakugo, what then?”

It took Ruby a second to think of a solution. “I can get the rest of us out of here. With my speed, I should be able to—”

“Can you carry the three of us, though?” Momo asked. There was a beat. No, she couldn’t. At the very most, Ruby could only carry Todoroki  and Momo one at a time. There wasn’t any time for her to do that, and it left Jaune vulnerable. If only there was some other way. Maybe if she just pushed everyone? Or— Something clicked in her mind.

“I won’t need to. If I push Todoroki from behind, he should be able to—”

“You want me to create an ice path for us to slide on,” Todoroki finished for her. Ruby nodded.

 “Yeah.” Slippery surfaces were a weakness when it came to Ruby’s speed, but sometimes, it could also be an advantage.

“What about your stamina, though? Your Quirk relies on it. There's a possibility you'll run out before we make it to safety.”

“I…!” Ruby wasn’t sure. She hadn’t had to use her Quirk at all tonight, but her stamina… If she ran out before she could get everyone to safety, what then? Would they be captured? Caught in the line of fire? Killed?! Could she be fast enough this time? Or was this going to end just like the training camp all over again…? “I don’t—”

Jaune put his hand on her shoulder. “She won't. My Quirk doesn't just heal people. I can use it to keep up Ruby's stamina until we make it out of the danger zone.”

“Incredible…” said Midoriya with a bit of awe that wasn’t appropriate for the situation, but considering his love of analyzing Quirks, it was appropriate for him.

“It's not that special.” Even in the dark, Ruby could make out the small amount of color that was now staining Jaune’s face. “But it will work here. Besides, I'm here to keep you kids safe. And that's what I'm going to do.” Jaune turned to Iida. “Tenya, as soon as they land, get them out of the danger zone.”

Iida nodded. “Right.”

It was decided and the kids quickly went to work. Midoriya braced himself against the farthest wall away from the crumbling one. He and Iida held onto Kirishima. Midoriya charged up Full Cowling, and Ruby heard Iida’s engines rev. Kirishima rolled his sleeves and crossed his arms in an X formation, hardening the skin into stone. They were ready.

The full chapter will be up on Ao3 on July 3!

[princessjungeun]

From Nothing To Something: Joy x Reader

Request: Hi! I checked your master list and saw that there’s only one RV scenario there. I’m here to change that. 😁 May I request an enemies to lovers kind of scenario with Joy? 😳

The dance is linked below if you want a visual

Park Sooyoung. You’ve known Sooyoung for as long as you could remember. She’s been in every single class with you since Pre Kindergarten. One would think after knowing someone for this long you’d be best friends.

No. It was the complete opposite.

You and Sooyoung absolutely couldn’t stand to be in a room together. It’s been that way since you first met her. Despite this, as far as you can remember there’s not a specific reason you dislike her. You always remember hating her, never bothering to look into why.

All of this leads up to know. 12th grade dance class. Going to a performing arts school was definitely one of the best experiences you were provided with. Dance was your entire life. So much so you were already on track to attend an arts university overseas in America in the fall.

Every year a project was given to year 12 students. A year 12 dancer was paired with another year 12 student who didnt study dance. You were to teach them a dance and perform it for them in front of the whole school. A panel of judges from entertainment companies as well as universities were the ones who gave grades. Of course they showed a small amount of mercy. As you all were only teenagers and one of you al had no prior dance experience. However, this didn’t diminish the fact that many students still failed this project.

Your teacher rambled of names one by one giving you (the dancers) your partners (the non dancers).

“Jisu and Eunji”

“Sooyoung and Chaeyoung”

“Heejin and Jiwoo”

“Soojin and Jihyo”

“Siyeon and Bora”

“Sooyoung and Y/N”

“Chaeyeon and Kahei”

The second you heard her name you walked to the Sooyoung you wanted to be paired with, Ha Sooyoung.

Your teacher noticed you two standing together and said “Ha Sooyoung is with Son Chaeyoung. Y/N you are paired with Park Sooyoung. Please find your partner promptly.” Your fellow dance friend waved as she went to find her partner. You looked around before seeing Sooyoung staring directly at you.

She stood in front of you then said “well are you going to talk?” You felt fire boil up inside you, but instead of lashing out like you wanted to, you took a deep breath. “Meet me here tomorrow at 3 pm. If you’re even a minute late I’m leaving and requesting a partner switch got it?” Sooyoung rolled her eyes and walked past you, bumping your shoulder in the process.

That night you decided the two of you would dance a slow song. Knowing that Sooyoung has probably never danced before you wanted to do something she’d find easy.

•

•

•

When you arrived in the dance studio the next day Sooyoung was there waiting for you. She wore leggings and a t shirt with a pair of sneakers. You for once didn’t look at her and internally gag, she looked...nice?

“Ok I decided that we’re dancing to a slow song. It’s a slow and emotional choreography. We’re dancing to Say Something.” You put your bag down and walked to the center of the floor.

“Have you ever danced before?” You asked her expecting a no, but there was no harm in asking. She responded “yeah I have, for a few years as a child.” You nodded then said “ok I can work with that, nice.” She responded in an annoyed tone “can we start please. I’m meeting someone after this.” You rolled your eyes and started guiding her through her choreography.

By the end of the practice she had learned the first quarter of her routine. “Ok Joy. Uh...you did well today, be here tomorrow. Same time.” Her eyes narrowed and she immediately said “don’t call me that.” You asked “what?” She responded “Joy. Only my friends call me that. You call me Sooyoung.” She grabbed her bag and walked out before letting you say anything else.

•

•

•

The next few weeks you spent hours with Joy Sooyoung teaching her choreography. She picked everything up fairly quickly but she definitely needed help making thing cleaner.

“When you get here I need you to add more emotion. The lyrics are sad but you’re just going through the motions.” You instructed her hoping she wouldn’t respond negatively. She sighed and ran her hand through her hair before doing the move again with the same expression. You sighed “We’ll work on it...”

A knock on the door interrupted the two of you. Your dance teacher told you “Hello girls. Please show me what you all have so far.” You nodded and started the music.

As you danced you could tell Sooyoung was just going through the motions. She didn’t trust you, you tried to not get frustrated as you danced but you couldn’t. You knew Sooyoung didn’t want to do this just as much as you if not more.

Your teacher tells you “Ok well the choreography is beautiful and the sing fits well. However, I feel like you two are lacking chemistry. Watching you was like watching two different people. With this you need to be one with each other. Trust each other and feel each other’s emotions through your movements. Channel your inner dancer Sooyoung, I know you can do it. And Y/N, be patient with her. Try to feel for her more, you’re dancing for yourself when you need to dance for the two of you. I suggest you two call it a day.”

When your teacher tells her students to call it a day, that’s one of the worse things you can hear. It’s the equivalent of her telling you, “you suck go home I don’t want to see you in my school anymore this evening”. You sighed and let her walk out of the room before you faced Sooyoung.

The overwhelming feeling of anger and disappointment welled up inside of you. As much as you wanted to yell at Sooyoung, you knew it wasn’t all her fault. You played a role in this situation as well. “Tomorrow. Same time” was all you said before grabbing your things and leaving.

•

•

•

The next day you showed up and saw Sooyoung waiting for you. You told her “Come on I’m taking you somewhere.” She responded “where are we going? What are you planning? Are you going to take me to some remote place and try to kill me? Answer me! Ugh you’re so annoying no wonder I hate you.” You just grabbed her arm and dragged her to your car.

You drove for what was probably two hours before arriving at your favorite place in Seoul. Sooyoung looked out the window and unimpressingly asked “You brought me...to a mountain?” You responded “just shut up and follow me.”

You led her along a trail, hiking up the mountain. “I hate this. Why are you taking me here. This is so stupid. A mountain of all places?” You couldn’t contain yourself any longer “SOOYOUNG. SHUT THE HELL UP. ALL YOU EVER DO IS COMPLAIN. WILL YOU JUST HUSH FOR ONE MINUTE AND PAY ATTENTION TO WHATS GOING ON AROUND YOU?” She looked at you stunned then stayed quiet as she followed you “ok...sorry.”

When you got to the highest point of the mountain you didn’t hear footsteps following behind you. Turning around you saw Sooyoung clinging to a railing. You asked “what’s wrong?” Sooyoung’s eyes were closed tightly and she shakily said “I’m like really really afraid of heights.”

You sighed and walked back to her carefully removing her hands from the railing. “What are you doing? Why am I moving? What’s happening?” She started to panic. You responded calmly “it’s fine just relax.” She was clinging to you for what felt like dear life. Her body was shaking and her knees wobbling beneath her. You found it kind of cute honestly. You sighed and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, her hand immediately finding yours. While your free arm snakes around her waist.

You sat down on the ground, guiding her to sit in front of you, facing the end of the railing. Finally you told her why you were here “We’re here so we can gain trust and chemistry.” Sooyoung’s eyes were still shut, you could tell even from looking at her back.

You asked her “Ok first off theres one thing we should talk about first. Why do you hate me?” She scooted around so she was now facing you but her eyes were still closed. “Because you’re better at everything. You’re a better dancer, a better singer, you’re prettier...waaayyy prettier than me, your body is to die for, you’re so nice to everyone, your hair is perfect. I-I guess I hate you because you’re perfect...” Her voice trailed off in the end.

“Sooyoung...I’m far from that, truly.” You stated. She asked “why do you hate me?” You responded “Because I thought I was supposed to.”

You both say quiet for a minute until she said “ok well let’s talk about the dance then...why’d you choose it?” You looked down at your hands and said “broken relationships, family things. It has a meaning to me.” Sooyoung responded “I can tell. I’m sorry I haven’t been cooperating with you...” You replied “I’m sorry you don’t trust me yet.”

She asked you “so what now?” You noticed her eyes were still closed, her fists tightly clenched around her sweatshirt sleeves. “Come on theres one more thing I want you to see.” You helped her stand up and the second you took one step her body caved into yours. “I’m scared Y/N...” She whined softly.

“Shhh it’s ok just trust me.” You walked slowly to the very edge where the railing was still protecting you both. You stood behind her and wrapped both arms around her waist. “Ok now breathe in” You instructed her, “and breathe out.” She followed your instructions, you felt her shaking.

“Sooyoung-ah it’s ok I’m right here I won’t let anything happen to you. Breathe in and out until your calm.” She once again listened to you, her hands finding yours.

You softly said “Ok good now I want you to slowly open your eyes but keep breathing.” She did as you said and saw the beautiful mountains in front of her. You told her “See, look what happens when you just trust me.”

•

•

•

Ever since you and Sooyoung had that little bonding experience, dancing with her improved. She slowly started showing more emotion and putting more effort into her performance. Your teacher often watched the two of you and praised you both for your improvement.

Dancing with Sooyoung went from dancing with a stranger, to dancing with another part of yourself. You two became one as you danced, feeling each other and trusting each other. It was something you’ve never felt before. And you loved it.

You told her “Ok let’s do a full run through then we can call it a day.” She nodded and you started the song. As the music played you let your body move freely, not thinking about anything. You could tell Sooyoung was doing the same. The parts where you both came together then apart were like you were separating part of yourself.

When you two finished you immediately ran into her arms excitedly “that was so good! Sooyoung-ah we are going to do so well!” She jumped excitedly with you.

You looked into her eyes, you never truly noticed how beautiful she is. You noticed her eyes scanning your face as well, ending on your lips. Your eyes flickered down to hers and without hesitation she pulled you in and kissed you. Her lips were the softest you’ve ever felt.

She pulled away breathless and said “I’m Joy to you.” Caressing your face and kissing you again before grabbing her things and leaving. You stood in the middle of the room stunned at the interaction.

•

•

•

As weeks went on you and Sooyoung Joy got closer and closer. Immediately you realized how much attention she actually needed, you found it cute. She was always clinging to you, craving your love and affection whenever you were around.

On the day of your performance you hadn’t seen her all day. You and the rest of the dancers wouldn’t see your partners until you were onstage. This is why you and Joy had been practicing so hard the past two weeks.

“So let me get this straight. The girl that you once absolutely hated. You couldn’t stand her whatsoever. Is now your girlfriend?” Your best friend Chaeyeon asked you. You responded “we aren’t girlfriends Chae.” She roles her eyes and said “well lovers whatever you two want to be called.” You told her “I don’t know we just talked about it one day and then she kissed me...and here we are.” Chaeyeon responded “wish I could relate.”

You were instructed by your dance teacher to get in order by performance. Your friends helped each other put the finishing touches on your costumes. You wore a black, long sleeved leotard with a high neck. As far as you know Joy was wearing the same thing.

You waited your turn, watching your friends and their partners dance. The judges have yet to say anything genuinely different. It’s all the same comment “good work” or “with more practice you would have gotten higher”.

The lights dimmed and your friend behind you patted your behind in support. Nervously you ran out and found your spot, hearing Joy do the same.

When the lights came on you heard the music come on. Immediately all of your fear washed away and you let the music take control. The audience was completely silent as you two danced.

Something was different about this Joy. She wasn’t smiling as she danced like she did in almost every practice. She didn’t laugh once when you lifted her into the air. She didn’t jokingly whisper provocative things into your ears when she was close enough to. This Joy was different. She danced with passion and emotion. You could tell she wanted this as much as you did.

The end of the song came, your back against hers and her hand reached for yours. As choreographed, you tore it away and got up, walking away slowly leaving her alone. Much like a very close relationship you once had.

The lights turned off and the music stopped, you both ran into each other’s arms. The lights came back on and the judges sat in silence staring at you. One of them, from a very famous dance studio in Seoul said “I’m speechless. I honestly have nothing to say.” The others nodded in agreement before they told you both to exit the stage.

When you got into the wings you turned back to Joy, immediately you hugged her. She pulled away and wiped away tears you didn’t realize fell. You smiled and hugged her again “thank you so much. You did so well.” She rubbed your back “it was all you, I just followed along.”

Your teacher escorted the two of you back to a dressing room with your other classmates who already performed. All of them showered the two of you with complements, your best friends praising you especially.

Joy sat down and opened her arms for you to sit in them. You both watched the last two performances before the whole class was escorted onstage.

The final grades would be given in class but the highest graded performance was announced publicly. Everyone nervously waited not knowing who would be awarded the highest grade. You weren’t 100% confident because there were at least two pairs you thought did better than you.

The judge who sat in the middle spoke “This performance received a high grade of 100%. This performance left us judges as well as the audience speechless. The technique was incredible, not only from the trained dancer, but from the inexperienced partner as well. They both had the chemistry and you could tell that they trusted each other. They told a story with their choreography, it was truly beautiful. This grade is given to Y/N and Park Sooyoung.”

You couldn’t believe your ears, you turned to Joy and picked her up, spinning her around. You couldn’t help but start to cry as your whole class huddled around you hugging you. You thanked the judges profusely as well as your teacher.

•

•

•

“Joy I wanna talk to you about something.” You walked into her room as she towel dried her hair. “Do you know how much hair spray and gel Jihyo put in my hair? It took three washes to get it out!” You looked at her seriously and she said “sorry yeah what’s wrong?”

You sat in your bed and patted the seat next to you. She sat down and you continued “For the longest time I absolutely despised you. I didn’t have a reason you I just did. And then one day we were forced to do this crazy project. I took you to a mountain and you kissed me there. Then we became...whatever we are now. But I don’t want to do this with you anymore.”

Her face dropped and you could see the hurt in her eyes. You told her “I don’t want you to be doing this with me...if I can’t call you my girlfriend.” Immediately she tackled you “yahhh don’t do that you scared me!” You pulled her down and kissed her passionately. Softly you mumbled against her lips “I love you Joy” She pulled away out of breath and kissed your cheek, “I love you too Y/N”

[tarithenurse]

Stolen - 10

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson &/x fem!gifted!reader Content: Angst. Feels. Plot. Regerts. Fluffy inclinations. Mentions of torture. References to past MCU events. A/N: *radiates love to everyone* *begins singing Tina Turner’s “You’re simply the best”* Ask or reblog if you want a tag.

10. Leave a Scar

…   Reader  …

Two days later and you’re still praying that Loki has no idea what you’ve heard even if the chances seem remote. He’s grown quiet. Brooding. Most of the time he’s off somewhere without you but when he returns he finds a secluded corner and a carafe of wine to wash down his gloominess with.

He’s plotting how to kill me. It makes sense – haven’t you done what he wanted you to? The talk about keeping you safe must have been nothing but a ruse to eventually break your spirit completely before delivering the final blow. On the other hand, it seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to if he was just going to waste the effort by being emo. Plotting to kill someone else? Now, that would make sense considering his track record.

On and on your thoughts run in circles and not even the beautiful view from the balcony can provide enough of a distraction today.

“Tell me, mortal.” His voice startles you, coming from right behind you. “What’s plaguing your mind, hmm?”

There’s nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide from those piercing, green eyes boring into the back of your skull. Pulling at the sleeves of the purple dress (kindly lend to you by the Älfir), you consider how to out-lie a liar.

“What...what is going to happen now?” you manage to ask, forcing your voice past a lump in your throat.

The sigh that fans your shoulder is chilling. “It seems I have to change my plans.”

Unsure of anything, this isn’t what you had expected. Turning towards him, the somberness clings to his face and cuts his already sharp features from ice. Only now do you realize that there had been a spring in his step and a softness to his gaze a short week ago but since then something has extinguished the light.

Your hand twitches as you restrain yourself from reaching out to stroke his cheek. “What’s happened?” Did he see that?

If he did, nothing in his demeanour divulges anything as Loki steps as close as he can without the mossy greens of his clothing brushing against purple. A thousand worlds could come and go that second and you would never have noticed because the Asgardian’s presence is all-encompassing, sucking you into his personal vortex of pride and pain, stubbornness and deference.

“Why would you care what has happened?” His words are cold like blades of ice, but this time you see through it and wait him out. He resigns. “The Älfir’s magic is not strong enough. They cannot restore Jotunheim.” Deflated.

“If they could’ve then they would’ve healed the Priestess too.” Biting your tongue off suddenly feels like a really good idea.

The silence is oppressing, drawing out the seconds as the man looks you over as if you just dropped from the moon. Like he’s seeing me for the first time. The sensation is far from comforting, something that’s enhanced as the thin lips begin to curve into a crooked smile revealing white teeth.

“You did that.” Man, you hate the way he practically purrs.

“Barely.” You step backwards, bumping into a pillar.

Even now, you can’t help but notice how smoothly he moves as he follows in your footsteps. “But you did.”

Somehow managing to sidestep the god, you make it two steps into the shade of the room before his hands have gotten hold and you’re twirled, forced against the cold wall.

“Don’t -”

“Shush.” He places a cold finger on your lips, making you comply automatically. “We all have sacrifices to make.”

A smidgen of logic in the back of your skull is screaming at you to shut up, to let him have this victory while you figure out a way to get out of the situation. Of course you don’t listen to it, deciding instead to pull yourself up to your full height (as unimpressive as it may be compared to Loki) and glare at him. There’s even a moment there where you impress yourself by how calm your voice is when you answer.

“No. I won’t be your puppet anymore.” Black eyebrows shoot upwards at your words. “And if you kill me, at least I know you’ll still be crying every night.”

That’s the instant the sense of heroic pride dies.

The emerald eyes you secretly admire change into a sea of blood while a flood of blue, broken by ridges and lines cover what skin you can see and causes you to gasp, drawing in air so cold you can feel the lungs crackle in complaint. If at least Loki would snarl or growl, then it would somehow make sense, but he just smiles, the white teeth suddenly similar to the fangs of a predator. A wolf...and I’m the lamb.

“Mortal. Pet.” A claw traces along your cheekbone before scraping down your throat. “I thought we were coming to an understanding? You would obey my every wish in return for the life of those you love?” Nodding is the only option. “Tsk tsk. Perhaps I have underestimated you, wench, thinking you had a soul, a heart. Hoping you would recognize real evil when held up against the light of truth.”

Well...I’m already doomed. “You told a story -!”

“A story?!” This time he does snarl. “I’ll show you story!”

The cold of his hands burn the skin on your forehead, wrist, and palm as he slams your hand against his brow and mirrors the movement.

...  Loki   ...

The first glimpses are simple until the events fully unfold. Falling – he will hate the sensation forever. Falling through nothingness for half an eternity until he lands more dead than alive...except this time he’s watching it from the outside. We’re watching it. Though the Jotun can’t see it, he knows that [Y/N] is there with him, a spectator without the option to look away when the actor is found and brought to the Titan.

What were months or maybe years at the mercy of Thanos and his Children flash by in a few minutes, perhaps. Torture, mind games, hatred twisted and turned until it points back to the outcast prince and penetrates his soul, leaving it to fester before he finally succumbs to the touch of a sceptre. From there the events unfold in a blur only occasionally brought into focus when a part of the fallen god tries to rebel against the shackles.

It’s only when the Loki they watch is lying at the feet of the Avengers that clarity is fully restored, though one kind of shackles is replaced by another. Then: a speck of blue grants an opportunity impossible to dismiss.

A vision. A memory. A nightmare.

Loki’s hands fall to his sides. It’s over. The wall in the Älfir temple looks less real than what [Y/N] and the Jotun have just witnessed, but the wide eyes staring up at him brings reality back like a kick in the balls. She knows. Everyone knows when they witness the recollections of someone else – no amount of so called rational thinking can convince them they have hallucinated because they feel it as if they lived it themselves.

“[Y/N]...”

Tears are welling in her eyes, lips quivering as she tries to root herself in the present. “He...y-you...” What I wouldn’t do to take away your pain. “That was -” A sniffle interrupts her.

He hates it. Hates the despair she’s drowning in at his hands. Truly, he has proven to be the monster he claimed not to be. Losing control and forcing [Y/N] through this nightmare serves no purpose at all.

“I will...I will ensure your safety and then you will never hear from me again,” he promises shamefully, “now...get some rest.”

...

Flat on his back and with the hands behind his head, Loki’s gaze is fixed on a point far beyond the ceiling above. Dawn is nearing yet sleep has evaded him, chased away by memories and guilt. It served no purpose. Priding himself of his logic, the turmoil raging inside his heart is has pushed the Jotun to act rashly and he hates it because he wishes to be more than a beast that simply lashes out when cornered. He doesn’t want to be the monster he behaved like. No, the man in him has to find a way to -

“Loki?” The whisper is hesitant, almost too quiet to hear. “Are you...are you awake?”

He sits up, bare feet on the stone floor as if to ground himself. The covers slides from his chest, revealing the pale skin in the darkness but [Y/N] probably can’t see it with her human eyes as she stands in the doorway.

Draped in the soft-flowing silk from a borrowed shift, she could almost pass for one of the ghosts from the fanciful tales children enjoy to fear. Loki can see her better than that. He can see her face straining as she tries to find him in the dark, and her arms wrapped tightly around the ribs below her bosom perhaps to find some comfort.

“Yeah...I’m awake,” the god rasps softly in return. Is that regret or relief in your sigh?

Sitting there, waiting for the unknown, a tension begins to permeate the air and send tendrils to every nerve ending of Loki’s body. A coil tightens in his chest and it becomes nearly unbearable when [Y/N] tentatively walks towards him, her feet careful as they seek out the right path. A few steps before the goal, her hands reach out to locate the Jotun and he has taken them before thinking to stop himself.

Steeling herself with a deep breath, the mortal braves the silence. “This doesn’t mean we’re okay, but...I believe you now.”

“[Y/N] -”

“Shut up.” He does. “I’m trying to say that...that I get it a-and I trust you.”

Loki has no answer. Gaping slightly at her, he tries to come to terms with the woman’s foolishness. Once or twice a sentence nearly forms in his mind only to dissolve before it can be uttered and the task increases in difficulty as she shyly shifts her weight from one leg to the other, toes intertwining as best they can while she bites her lip.

He obviously startles her as he stands. Yet you don’t run, my dear? A shiver rolls through her the moment he embraces the lithe form.

“Oh! Oh, we’re...hugging? Okay, we can hug,” she babbles, unknowingly making the god smile into her hair.

It’s impossible to say how long they stand like this or when [Y/N]’s warm fingertips start a slow dance across his naked back. Then again, time hardly matters as the Jotun pulls back enough to study her face, smelling her hectic breath that fans against his skin.

“Thank you,” he says, but means I think I love you, “you should rest.”

Her hands retreat, and right away Loki misses the scalding touch and the heat of her body as she navigates the darkness to find her own bed.