#anyways Thank You Again for putting these panels in front of my eyes again and for giving me an excuse to reread this segment

[xxplastic-cubexx]

These are from the pages right after

obsessed with how little of a fuck he gave here he really was about to square up naked 😭

[pearlymel]

A baby ?!

Summery: his departure always bugs you, and surprise, it was just your lil hormones messing with you.

Wc: 3.4k

Warnings: Fem!reader, sfw because we decided to be sweet, pregnancy, reader is pregnant, there are some suggestive comments but that's all. Happy ending because i love yall.

Part one and two if you missed it my loves.

Notes: welcome to part 3 which i believe is the last part. I am kindly asking not to ask for a part 4 because i have run out of ideas. If i ever decided to write for capitano again, it wouldn't be part of this series, it would be like headcanons instead, you could imagine the reader being the same, apologies for spelling errors and thank you. :)

Credits: the art of the left panel is by @/reaperpie

Fall was slowly approaching in Snezhnaya, and you had already expected it to be colder than the normal autumn. Which to your bad luck, it was not a suitable place for your picnic’s.

Your husband has continuesly rejected your date ideas, but you expected that anyway, you knew he couldn’t. He had duties to attend to, responsibilities to the Fatui, to the Tsaritsa, to the world. He couldn’t stay, as much as you—he wanted to.

It's not fair, You think while pouting as you stare outside the window with your chin resting on the palm of your hand, looking like a princess in need to be rescued from the tower. Your thumb toying with the diamond ring resting around your ring finger.

“Ugh, it's unfair baby.” You slump back on the bed, while your little fur baby only meowed at you in return, the orange cat jumping on the bed to make itself warm on your lap. “meow back if he doesn't love me.”

You're met with silence, only happy purrs reach your ears, and you grin, “obviously he loves me, obsessed even.” Your hand reaches to slowly pat the kitty.

“I miss him.” You sigh dreamily, deciding to stand up while carrying kitty with you so it doesn't feel left out. You make your way towards the desk in the corner, pulling the seat to take your place before pushing yourself closer to the desk.

You rest the kitten on your lap again—who quickly adjusts like nothing happened, looking as sleepy as ever.

You open the drawers to take an envelope, some wax, a stamp, a paper, and a quill.

Yeah, you're going to write him a letter, he said he didn't mind recieving even hundreds of letters from you.

How romantic.

“Dear, husband.” You start, dipping the quill in ink to brush it along the neat surface of the paper.

“i miss you.” you narrow your eyes at the empty page, saying that you miss him felt too boring.

“i utterly miss being next to you.” Hm, it lacks excitement.

“Please come back soon or i will run away.” Huh, you could already imagine the army's he would send to search for you.

“i want you inside—” okay, now you're being desperate.

You rest your arms on the desk, leaning your head on them while sighing.

—

“Do you know when will he return?” You politely ask one of the guards in front of the estate’s gate. Your hands together behind your back.

A leaf flew by in front of the guards with still no answer from them, and you narrow your eyes, wondering if they even heard you in the first place.

Finally, one of them shook their head and you only sigh in resignation, “thank you.” You mumble before heading your way back inside the estate.

It has been more than two weeks since he left, and he would sometimes send you neat letters to inform you about his well being, but the last letter you received was about a week ago, it was worrying you.

“My lady, are you okay?” Your personal maid, Marina, asked out of concern, watching you put an apron with a frown plastered on your face.

“Just hungry.” You take the glassy bowl, eggs, flour, butter, and sugar. Then you set them on the table. “I can help you.” Marina stands next to you, taking the butter to melt it.

“you want to make cookies, correct?” She asks, and you nod with a small smile. With the butter fully melted, you begin mixing in the sugar, beating the mixture until it becomes light and fluffy. The repetitive motion of stirring is almost meditative, and for a brief moment. “Baking is rather calming, i should've tried it before.”

Marina chuckled softly at your admission, a knowing smile on her face. "Yes, baking can be quite therapeutic," she stated, watching as you mixed the sugar and butter together. "I've found that working with your hands, especially when it involves creating something good to eat, is a great way to clear your mind," she continued, adding chocolate to the bowl.

You had both finished combining the ingredients, and the room was now filled with the warm, comforting fragrance of cookie dough. Marina stood beside you, watching as you shaped the dough into small balls and placed them on a baking tray. As you finished placing the last cookie onto the tray, you and Marina stood together, admiring the array of small, round cookies waiting to be baked in the oven.

The sounds of the gates opening is what catches your attention next, making you stand up from your chair to immediately abandon the kitchen and rush towards the entrance, your eyes searches him when you reach the front door, and surely enough, your husband has arrived.

He looked almost disheveled, tired, yet he still held a straight posture.

Capitano's weary eyes widened behind his helmet as you rushed into his arms, his body stiffening as if caught off guard by your sudden affection. But the tension in his form swiftly melted away as he wrapped his strong arms around you. His grip was tight, as he pulled you against his body. He was silent for a moment, his chin resting on the top of your head, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths as he held you.

“I…” you want to break the silence, you want to tell him how much you missed him. “I missed you.”

Capitano's grip intensified as your voice reached his ears, he was more than relieved to hear those words. To know that somone dear is waiting for him, someone as precious as you that he's willing to risk his life for.

He exhaled deeply, "I missed you too," he whispered, making sure the words only reached your ears. He pulled back slightly to look down at you, his gaze raking over you as if to confirm you were real and not a trick of his tired mind.

Capitano allowed you to lead him inside afterwards, his hand careful to be gentle when holding yours. The weariness in his body was evident as he stumbled a bit as you pulled him along. However, he matched your pace as best he could, following obediently as you guided him to your chambers.

Being greeted by the familiar room before him made his shoulders relax, the only place where he can be himself.

"How was is it? Being away from your wife for more than two weeks?" You ask while your hands started working on helping him out of the thick layers of his heavy, dirty clothing. Each layer you removed revealed more of his muscular, battle-worn physique, the scars and marks on his body a testament to the dangers he had faced.

He paused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he noticed your pout. He reached out a calloused hand and gently tugged at your lip, "It was a long two weeks," he admitted gruffly. "I have missed you sorely.”

“I'm sure you did,” you hummed, walking towards the closest to grab a sweater for him. "Don't pout like that," he chided gently, "You're making me feel guilty.”

You try hiding your smile when you hand him his new warm clothes, your arms crossing next, “as you should.”

"I've missed that pout," his lowers his voice, "but I don't miss your little attitude.”

You shrug, “i don't know what you're talking about.” Capitano's gaze held yours unflinchingly, his eyes studying your expression. He knew you were baiting him, daring him to guess your reason for being upset.

"Let me see.." he started, his voice taking on a tone of mock contemplation. "Perhaps it's the fact that I was gone for more than two weeks and left you here all alone. That's a start, is it not?”

“maybe.”

"Or perhaps it's the fact that I didn't send you a letter everyday and left you wondering about whether I was alright or not. Hmm, that could be it, couldn't it?”

“Go on.” your raise your eyebrow while tapping your feet impatiently.

"Or maybe," he stepped closer, taking a few strands of your hair in between his fingers, "It's because I didn't come home and ravish you as soon as I returned, instead letting you pout and sulk and complain like a spoiled little thing.”

He could see right through you; the way you suddenly straightened your stance and tried to act nonchalant only confirmed his suspicions.

You gasp, ”whaaaat? Nonsense.”

"Is that so?" he drawled, his hands now taking your upper arms, his thumb thumbs rubbing circles around your skin "i will make it up to you, my wife.”

Despite his promise that you could do later, you wanted him to rest more than anything, so you make him sit down on the bed while you leave to get the cookies you baked together with Marina.

“You have to tell me your opinion.” you hand him one of the chocolate chip cookies. Capitano let the taste of the chocolate chips and the buttery cookie dough settle on his tongue for a moment. He swallowed, his gaze still fixed on you, before giving his verdict.

"They're good," he admitted, "Better than good, actually. Well done.”

Praise kink goes crazy huh? Your smile widens, and it makes you feel all giddy, as you took a bite of the cookies as well.

He leaned back against the plush bedding of the bed, his strong arms resting on his lap as he observed you. "You've been busy while I was away, hm?"

“Not really, more bored than busy.”

“… i am sorry. I do not mean to leave you alone.”

You scoot closer to him once you see how guilty he looks, you sit next to him, your head resting on his shoulder. “When do you have to leave again?”

Capitano's silence spoke volumes, pausing before answering, "My duties are unpredictable, and there's no telling when the Tsaritsa will call for me again. I cannot give you an exact timeline, and that is the reality of what I do. I am a warrior first, a husband second.”

Ouch, that's fine. Totally fine.

You knew what you were getting into when you married him, after all. Still, a part of you couldn't help but wish for more. The thought kind of makes you sick… quite literally.

“I think the cookies had too much sugar.” You put the dessert back on the plate before standing up from the bed. “Shall i go get you wate—”

“no, thank you. I can do it.”

—

You were rotting in bed. From the morning, and now it's afternoon. It makes you feel useless since you barely did anything.

Capitano left before you woke up, even though he promised to return later today.

You felt miserable, your body weak and your spirits low. It was a mixture of loneliness, hormones, and the unease bubbling in your stomach. Capitano's absence only made it worse, adding to the feeling of helplessness that had settled upon you.

You tossed and turned in the bed, the plush sheets tangling up around you as you tried to find a comfortable position. But no matter how much you shifted, the discomfort in your stomach remained, persistent and nagging.

“Make the pain go please, I'll take any disgusting medicine,” you tell Marina weakly as you look up at her while she sat on the wooden stool next to you.

"I can give you some ginger root. It might help soothe your stomach.” she offered gently, handing you the ginger root she prepared just for you.

“… i lied i can't take anything disgusting.”

Marina chuckled softly at your admission, "I thought so," she said, setting aside the ginger root. “Have you considered telling Lord Capitano?”

You shake your head, “not that he's here. It's not that important.” you cover half of your face with the blanket, “why though? Isn't it just a normal cold from the change of weather?”

It was clear that you were trying to downplay the severity of your symptoms, perhaps not wanting to worry anyone or admit that something might be seriously wrong.

"Dearest, it's not just a cold," she chided gently, "the symptoms you're describing are not typical of a mere cold.”

You frown, “is it not?”

She shook her head, her voice soft but serious. "No, it's not. The nausea, the fatigue, the changes in appetite...these are all common symptoms of something else." Shee paused for a moment, "my lady, have you considered the possibility that you might be... Pregnant?”

You immediately rise from the bed, sitting down with eyes wide to stare at her, "what? Pregnant?” you ask in shock.

"I shall ask for a healer right away, my lady.”

—

You stare outside the window at the dark skies, although your eyes fixated on the gates opening, indicating his arrival.

You almost flinch when he dashes inside your shared chambers, taking his helmet off but not bothering to take the rest off before he's gently grabbing you by your arms.

“where?” He asks urgently, “where are you injured? Who did it? Do not hesitate to tell me.” He says in a dangerously sharp tone, his eyes searching for even a single scratch on your body.

“what… are you talking about?” You raise an eyebrow, and your unbothered state made him confused. “the healers were here, yet you're not injured?” he blinked before sighing, his hands caressing your arms instead, “then why? Are you sick?”

“Sick… no not sick.” You tell him, your hands ever so gentle taking a hold of his face, “… but pregnant. I'm pregnant.”

You both stare at eachother, both of you holding your breaths. You have never seen him so distracted, like he didn't hear you the first time.

Does he hate it? You never thought of the possibility.

“Capit—” before you could continue, he's down in one knee and you're bewildered, unsure of what to do.

“you're carrying our child.” he utters out so softly that you think you might tear up—and you really are in the verge of tears. He takes your hand, he's held your hand many times, but this time it feels different, he holds you like you're glass, he's so careful with it.

“I swear to protect you both, and put you both first. Should anyone hurt you, i will not hesitate to draw my sword, if i ever hurt you… then you should not hesitate to draw your sword on me.” his words hung in the air like a sacred vow.

You tried to speak, to respond, but only a soft gasp escaped your lips. Tears welled in your eyes, and you could only stare at him, utterly overwhelmed.

Capitano's gaze softened even more as he saw the tears falling down your face. He rose to his feet in one fluid motion, his hand still holding yours in a gentle but firm grip, he reached out with the other hand, his large palm cupping your cheek to brush your tears away. “Don't cry, I'm here.”

His embrace, so warm, so protective around you that it eases every single thought in your head.

Everything is going to be okay. With him, it will.

—

Months passed in a blur of morning sickness, cravings, and blossoming excitement for the new life growing inside you. Capitano, as promised, was by your side through it all and he went away for more than a week.

He attended to your every need, from getting up in the middle of the night to find the most ridiculous late-night snack, to comforting you on days when you felt overwhelmed by the changes happening to your body.

You rest back against the bed’s headboard while tracing random shapes on the skin of your swollen belly, a hum of some sort of song followed after. You stop once you hear the sound of slow footsteps, catching your husband freeze.

“I'm sorry, i didn't mean to stalk you like that—”

“you're so silly. Come here, honey.” You pat on your empty side with a smile, inviting him to share this moment you.

Capitano took his place next to you then continued watching as you gently caressed your belly, tracing over the stretch marks with your fingers.

“They're beautiful, you know.” he speaks first, as if sensing what you were about to say. “Beautiful?” You repeat. He lifted your hand to his lips, gently pressing a kiss on your knuckles before he replied, his voice a soft murmur. "Yes, beautiful. They're a sign of life growing within you. A sign of strength. Of creation. That's beautiful.” he continues his trail of kisses to your arm up to your shoulder, “I want to kiss every inch of you, stretch mark or not.”

You've come so far with him that it feels surreal, it feels right, “i love you.” You whisper to him, turning your attention to him again. “I love you.” he doesn't hesitate to say it back, the declaration coming out of his tongue smoothly like it was meant to be.

His hand then moved to your growing bump, "and I love this," he added. “This?” You giggle.

"Mhm," Capitano confirmed, his hand now rubbing your belly in slow, soothing circles. "This. Our baby." His eyes flickered up to yours, "We created this," he continued, his voice with pride and awe. "Our love made this.”

Love.

—

Were toddlers always this fast? Because one second he keeps an eye on her then the next he looks around before she's gone right from infront of him.

He was supposed to play tea party, but a little butterfly flying creature must've caught her attention.

Capitano, despite his size and strength, found himself struggling to keep up with your energetic three-year-old daughter.

He chuckled as he chased her around the garden, his large frame a stark contrast to her small, fleeting form. As she ran past you, you couldn't help but burst into laughter at the sight of your husband's face, "almost got her," he panted out, his hand on his knee as he attempted to catch his breath.

“You got this old man!” You decide to tease him from behind, laughing endlessly from the sight. Though he shot you a mock glare through his labored breaths, “old man, huh?" he grumbled, straightening up and crossing his arms over his chest. "You think I'm old now, do you?" he continued, raising an eyebrow playfully. "I'll show you 'old,' darling." With that, he took a step further to sweep you off your feet, carrying you effortlessly in his arms, and your smile only widens.

“Me!” Your little girl raises both of her arms at her father, and he kneels down to carry her in his other arm. Now carrying you both in each arm.

“Oh, how strong.” You tease, poking at his bicep and he shakes his head almost shyly, “papa, butterfly.” Your daughter proceeds to show you both the butterfly she caught, the little creature doesn't seem scared of her as it rests on her tiny fingers.

“Looks pretty,” Capitano smiled, his expression amused as your daughter leaned toward the butterfly, attempting to kiss it. "Careful now," he warned gently. "Don't scare it away." He watched as the butterfly fluttered its delicate wings at her attempt and she giggles.

"You have to be gentle," he told her, his voice soft. "Just like how you handle the kittens.”

She gasps, suddenly remembering the cat that's half asleep on the grass with the three of you. “Kitty!” She shouts at the cat, jumping off Capitano’s arm so suddenly that it makes him gasp, worried that she might’ve injured herself.

“she's fine.” You pat your husband's chest and just like that, he's relaxed again. “i think our cat is tired of her sometimes.” You get down as well, watching how your daughter carried the lazy cat in her arms to run in circles with her. The cat that grew within these years, from a mere kitten to a big cat now.

"I think we should just be glad the cat hasn't hissed at her or swatted her yet," he sighed, and you hum in reply, “i don't think it ever will. That cat has been clinging to my belly ever since i was pregnant. Kept me warm i must admit.”

You grin when your daughter runs back to both of you, carrying the cat in the air, it's eyes almost closed, unbothered, "meow."

Tags: @duchessofherself @itsjustnikkixoxo @erasme143 @yvesswoo @mooshbb @bigboygoose

[winchesterwild78]

Chance Meeting

This is my first ever fan fiction. I adore Jensen Ackles and have no hate towards his family. In this he’s single. I’m not sure exactly how to do this so any suggestions or feedback is appreciated. Please be kind and all mistakes are my own.

Please don’t take my work. 18+ Only!

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut (later on), Jensen being a sweetheart

———————————————————————

You guess in order to tell your story you have to start when you and Jensen first met. It was a chilly day in October. You were so excited about your first ever Supernatural Convention. You had been a fan of the show since it started and watched every single episode, several times over. Like everyone else, you have your favorites and of course like everyone your least favorite being the very last episode.

Anyway, you’re rambling. You tend to do that when you think back on moments where your world turned upside down. Like you said before, this was your first convention. You’ve seen videos on YouTube, Instagram, Facebook and TikTok, but nothing could have prepared you for being there in person.

You spent the money for the gold admission, because hey go big or go home, right? You had every outfit picked out for each photo op and panel you knew you were going to attend. You had paid for single photo ops of Misha, Jared, and of course the green eyed angel himself, Jensen. You’ve always been a “Dean” girl, and a fan of Jensen. Between his shows, movies and his music. Damn is he a talented man. You also had a photo op for Jared, Jensen and Misha. *swoon* The photo ops were all scheduled for Saturday as were most of the panels. You didn’t know exactly what to expect for Friday, but the air was electrified with anticipation, excitement and curiosity. You opted to stay at the hotel that was hosting the convention because you seriously didn’t want to have to Uber back and forth. Plus you wanted to come and go when you got tired or needed a break you’d head to your room then back down again.

You finally arrived at the check in desk and got my room key. The front desk clerk was super nice but gave you a weird smile and wink when she told you your room and floor. “You’re on the 7th floor, room 714” *grin and wink* Um, thanks you said as you grabbed the key and your stuff. As you waited for the elevator you heard some fans talking about the actors who were already there. One of them asked about Jared, Jensen and Misha. The first girl who was obviously a Dean girl by the look of her outfit said they don’t get there until late tonight so they shouldn’t expect to see them at all today. You laughed at the disappointment on their faces and put in your earbuds and turned on Radio Company to just relax. Something about Jensen’s voice just made you relaxed. Of course one of your favorite songs started right up and you couldn’t help but sing along. “Ain’t No Tellin” was playing as the elevator opened up.

*Ding* went the elevator and you stepped in. You couldn’t believe you were alone in the elevator. Or so you thought. You must have missed the man standing in the corner. In your defense he had on a dark pullover and a baseball cap. You continued singing this time louder because again, you thought you were alone. Then there was a tap on your shoulder and you screamed. The man standing in the corner threw his hands up apologizing for scaring you. It was then you realized you knew that voice. Oh my god! It was Jensen Ackles!! You pulled your earbuds out and told him you were sorry you screamed and you didn’t see him there. He smirked that half cocked smirk and said I figured since you started singing louder once you got in. Your face instantly turned three shades of red. He extended his hand and said “Hi, I’m Jensen, and you are?” You take his strong calloused hand in yours trying not to melt and trying to remember your name. Oh my god, my name, what’s my name?!?!? His beautiful green eyes staring straight into your soul. You felt his thumb rub circles on your hand and you suddenly remembered how to speak. You smile brightly with your y/c eyes and finally say My name is y/n, nice to meet you. Your hands held on just a few seconds longer before you both pulled away. Well nice to meet you y/n I hope you have a great time this weekend and I get to see you again soon. Yeah, thanks you too is all you could say with a smile.

The elevator stopped on floor 7 and you stepped out looking at the signs on the wall for which direction your room was in. You were talking to yourself when you heard that honey whiskey voice in your ear “Find your room yet?” His warm breath was on your ear and neck and it sent shivers down your spine. You spin around and you realize just how close you two really are. Damn his eyes are beautiful you think to yourself and those plump lips. Mmm I could get drunk off of those you thought. You manage to whisper out “yeah, I’m in 714, it’s this way.” Jensen smiles and nods as you walk away.

You make it to your room and go around checking everything before you start to unpack. You’re halfway through unpacking when there is a knock at your door. You sigh walk over and look out the peephole and see Jensen standing there with a grin on his face. You start to panic thinking you did something wrong. With a deep breath you open the door and smile. “Jensen, what are you doing here?” He looked at you smiled and asked if he could come in for a minute. You step aside and let him in before closing the door and locking it. This was a habit you picked up long ago being single and living alone. He came in and took a seat at the foot of the bed. You stood near the door trying to figure out what was going on. The silence seemed to go on for hours, but it was really seconds. Jensen told you he really enjoyed hearing you sing and he wanted to know if you would join everyone tonight for the Karaoke party and maybe sing something with him. I’m sorry what? Was all you could say. He chuckled and said it again. I don’t really like singing in front of people, if I knew anyone was on the elevator I wouldn’t have sang. You said and shyly smile at him. He stood up and took your hands in his. Y/N, please consider coming. I really would love to sing just one song with you. You look up into his emerald green eyes and look away. You take your hands out of his and sit in the chair at the desk.

“Why” you ask him in a very low voice. Why would you want me to sing with you. I’m nobody. Hell I don’t even look like the right type of woman to be standing next to you. I’m not a model, I have extra weight every where, stretch marks and I love chocolate. I don’t think it’s a good idea. Jensen sighed and bent down in front of you taking your hands again. Y/N please look at me. He spoke softly this time. You could smell his woodsy cologne and the mint gum he was chewing and it drove you wild. God he smelt like heaven and every time he touched you it was like electricity shooting through you. You kept your head down to hide the tears that pricked your eyes. You’ve never been beautiful in the eyes of the world and you’ve always carried extra weight. You’ve had your fill of insults and people judging you for your looks and you really didn’t want to stand up in front of a room full of strangers next to one of the most gorgeous men on the planet and judged. When you didn’t lift your head, Jensen slowly took his hand and placed it under your chin to lift up your face. He saw the pain in your eyes and you saw the regret and sadness in his. Hey sweetheart, don’t cry. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to push or upset you. If you don’t want to I’m okay with it. I don’t want you to feel pressured. I just wanted the world to hear that beautiful voice I heard. A single tear left your eye and you felt his thumb wipe it away. You looked in his eyes and you have no idea what or why, but you both started to move towards each other. Your lips were inches from his and he smiled. Jensen whispered “can I kiss you” and you nodded. He placed a sweet kiss on your lips then pulled away. You looked at him and smiled. As he walked towards the door Jensen turned around and said I hope to see you later y/n, even if you come just to enjoy the show. Then he turned around and left you standing in your room. Your head was spinning and you could feel the ghost of the kiss still on your lips.

You stood there for a few minutes trying to gather your thoughts. Did Jensen Ackles really just kiss me, and why? You had a decision to make, go to Karaoke or not. So many things running through your head. The loudest thing was how desperately you wanted to see and kiss Jensen again.

Next part coming soon

[colourstreakgryffin]

Angst ObaMitsu Scenario

*HOLY SHIT. THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS. THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS. ALL ANIMES-ONLY OR NON-COMPLETE MANGAS! PLEASE CLICK AWAY OR YOU’LL BE SPOILED*

Anyway. Re-read the ObaMitsu’s death panels and thought to myself. What would it be like if only one died, instead of both; So here is this very depressing scenario(s) I made up at 2am. I’m sorry, ObaMitsu fans.

Probably not the best thing to write as the first ObaMitsu post but whatever

Needed Warnings; mention of depression, mention of obsession, mention of seppkuku, mention of death, mention of mental health problems

If only Mitsuri died

Obanai woke up almost two months ago and is recovering finely

But Mitsuri hasn’t. She still hasn’t woken up

Obanai sticks by her bed everyday. Just hoping that she’ll spring back up any minute

He forgets to look after himself. He can’t continue whilst knowing Mitsuri is still so vulnerable and hurt

Giyuu has to drag him out of the room and pin him down so the girls can check up on her

It doesn’t work. Obanai breaks in and pushes Aoi off Mitsuri as she attempts to put a blanket over her. He is a complete mess but he needs to know what’s going on

Aoi sighs weakly. “I… I’m so sorry, Iguro-san. Kanroji-san… has passed away…”

Passed away? No. No. No. She must be joking

“We believe she did last night” “No… she can’t be… you have to be wrong!” Aoi only lowers her head

Obanai breaks down into a hysterical anger-mixed-sorrow fit. He refuses to believe Aoi is right but deep down, knows she is

Why did he have to survive and not Mitsuri? Why does he always end up escaping death when he deserves it?

Why couldn’t have he been the one who died?!

Giyuu, Sanemi and Tanjiro have to drag Obanai out, once again but this time, kicking and screaming

Eventually. Obanai cries

And he cries his heart out. The first time he has ever experienced such emotion

He gave everything he had to Mitsuri. And now, she won’t be on this earth to enjoy life with him

What’s the point of living anymore? He couldn’t stop the death of a person he loves so dearly

There is only two reasons Obanai won’t commit seppuku. One, Kaburamaru is far too important to him and two, Mitsuri always tells him to push forward

Every night. His dreams only consist of Mitsuri. Meeting him in the beautiful Sakura tree pathway they promised to find each other again in and pushing forward that he doesn’t take his life

“Wait! Obanai! Don’t do that to yourself! Stay alive. Please. I need you to! I— …I hate this too but do it for me. Won’t you?”

Obanai returns to the Serpent Estate broken in all forms for good. Sure, life is now much safer with the eradicating of demons but it isn’t colourful without Mitsuri

His world is monochrome. His eyes are basically dead, his voice is dark and lifeless. He is depressed

Obanai takes Mitsuri’s belongings. Every single thing she owned. Her katana, her uniform, her favourite hairclips, the keys to her estate, her cats. The Love Estate will end up empty

He protects her belongings like his life depends on it

Obanai looks after Mitsuri’s cats as intently as he looks after Kaburamaru

Obanai makes Sakura Mochi in his spare time. He never liked it but for Mitsuri, he started pushing himself to liking it

Obanai visits Mitsuri’s grave daily to sit in front of it and eat the Mochi he made

He pretends Mitsuri is talking to him. He nods and responds to nothing. He claims he can hear her talking

Whilst he can’t see anymore, no thanks to the irreversible damage of his eyes, he sees Mitsuri all the time

He is growing mentally unwell, the more he keeps up this routine. He is getting a bit obsessed with keeping Mitsuri in his life

He snatched Mitsuri’s fixed haori from Aoi and wears it over his shoulders all the time

He likes to pretend that Mitsuri married him. So, he sometimes calls the imaginary Mitsuri he talks to “my wife”

Obanai is more aggressive and sour after Mitsuri’s death. He can’t see himself making connections ever again. He is barely hanging on

He’ll live the rest of his broken life completely alone. No new love or no new friend. Just him, Kaburamaru and Mitsuri’s grave

No woman can match Mitsuri. They’re all pathetic, he can’t stand another woman after he lost the woman of his dreams

If only Obanai could sense the way Mitsuri cuddles his side. Her spirit, clings to him everytime he sits at her grave

Obanai always leaves beautiful rose bouquets and bowls of Mitsuri’s favourite ramen at her grave. Their always gone when he returns the next day

Obanai truly isn’t alone. Mitsuri is always following him around and pressing kisses on his forehead every night

Obanai, truthfully, is trapped inbetween fantasy and reality. Inbetween acknowledging that Mitsuri has crossed the rainbow bridge but yet refusing to admit in favour of pretending Mitsuri is still alive

Obanai treasures all the letters Mitsuri wrote about him. Sure, he can’t read them on his own anymore(Kaburamaru reads them for him) and he ends up crying and crumbling onto the floor

All he wants is Mitsuri back

If only Obanai died

Mitsuri wakes up in a hospital bed. She survived? But. What about Obanai?

Obanai… he isn’t in the room with her. Where is he?

She desperately climbs her way out of bed and clings onto the walls to walk through the hallway. She is in so much pain but she needs to see him

Busting into the other hospital room, Mitsuri is shocked by the sight before her

The Butterfly Assistants and Aoi are surrounding Obanai, putting a blanket over his resting body

“No! Wait! Stop! What are you doing?!” Mitsuri stumbles over when running to the bed and her head bumps against Obanai’s shoulder

Her heart almost stops and her eyes widened in fear

His bare skin is cold. He didn’t make any noise nor move

“I’m… so sorry, Kanroji-san… Iguro-san has… has passed away… we believe he passed away last night…” Aoi remarks gently

Mitsuri cries instantly and screams. She can’t hold back as she grabs onto Obanai’s arms and shakes him

She doesn’t want to believe he’s dead. He must be alive! He has to be!

Mitsuri shakes him until she has to stop, out of the extreme pain. Her heart shatters into pieces as she crumbles onto the floor and cries hysterically. She cries out his name, begging for the heavens to bring him back to her

The man of her dreams… has left her for good

Mitsuri never gets over this. Never. No matter how old she gets

She becomes semi-lifeless. Her smile is no longer genuine. Her eyes are almost grey. She becomes depressed

Obanai kept her smiling. Mitsuri doesn’t see any reason to pretend to be happy. She doesn’t care about her missing arm, she doesn’t care about the other Hashira

All she cares about is how she lost Obanai

Mitsuri eventually found and swiped Obanai’s repaired haori from Aoi and brought it with her to her hospital bed

She sleeps with it

And when she is released from the Butterfly Estate and returns to her Estate. She takes care of it like it has her beating heart in it

Mitsuri wears Obanai’s haori everywhere and every second of every day. Mitsuri never takes off Obanai’s haori for longer than changing. She’ll die wearing it

Mitsuri got Kaburamaru. She may struggle with separating Kaburamaru from Obanai but she still loves the serpent and keeps him with her as much as possible

Mitsuri visits Obanai’s grave everyday. She eats in front of it, she talks to it

She likes to pretend that she is still talking to Obanai. It’s her coping mechanism

Breaking her illusion will make her break down so don’t. Let her get it out of her system

It is so unhealthy but Mitsuri can’t bring herself to let Obanai go. She needs to feed her fantasies to keep herself from slipping further into depression

Mitsuri, however, is unaware of how Obanai is still with her. In spirit, laying his head on her shoulder as she forces out a laugh at her own joke

Mitsuri will definitely live the rest of her damaged life with no new love. Not a single man in Japan can compare to Obanai

She considers seppuku. At one point, she just wants to be in heaven with him. But Obanai talks her out of it

“Mitsuri! Put that down! Don’t hurt yourself! It’s not worth it! I know, I know you’re in pain. Please, stay alive… for me”

Can’t say Mitsuri becomes obsessed with Obanai after his death but she keeps basically all of his belongings and protects them with everything she has. His katana, his uniform, the keys to his estate, all trinkets of Kaburamaru’s, his favourite kimonos

Mitsuri even changes her last name to Iguro. It’s her way of dedicating herself to her one true love

Living in a fantasy where she married Obanai, despite the fact he is now above in heaven. Forced to wait for Mitsuri to come to him

But everybody can clearly see that Mitsuri’s sanity is chipping. She is losing herself in her depression, her grief, her regret

She is stuck between her fantasy and reality. She speaks outloud to Obanai’s grave when she is with it like it’s a person, but when literally anywhere else, she is relatively normal

Mitsuri still cries as hard when she reads the long letter Obanai wrote for her before he died. His battlefield confession replaying in her head as she keeps reading the most important parts. The parts that cements his love for her

All she wants is Obanai back

Changed the pic cause it was annoying

Well. Fuck. This is very depressing, Jesus and #firsteverpostpostedwithoutsavingittodraftfirst

[the-era-of-shadow]

Bam

Comic!

(please put the panels in order this time Tumblr)

Episode Rouge: A Conclusion

(transcript under cut)

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[ROUGE Stands slightly limp, a hole already made in one of her wings from an earlier attack, rendering her unable to fly]

Rouge: [weakly] I'm telling you… This is the first time I'm fighting you-!

Infinite: [scoffs] Stop your lies. I will not allow you to defeat me again, bat girl!

Rouge: Good…

Rouge: [pulls out a bat bomb] Because I KNOW that this will be the first time I take you down!

[ROUGE throws the bomb at INFINITE and runs off]

[INFINITE strikes the bomb with his sword, causing it to fling back towards ROUGE]

[The camera zooms in on ROUGE'S fearful face as she realizes the fate that is to come upon her]

[But then, ROUGE is suddenly teleported away from the scene]

[ROUGE opens her eyes to see that she is now on the rooftop of a building]

[In front of her, she seems to see…]

Rouge: Shadow?!

"Shadow": [turns to meet eyes with ROUGE, eyes a striking amber color] Think again.

Rouge: … Hmph, of course it's YOU.

"Shadow": [sarcastic] Wow, what a glorious "thank you" for me saving your life.

Rouge: … Why'd you do that, anyway?

"Shadow": Well, first of all…

["SHADOW" detransforms, revealing themself to be ECLIPSE]

Eclipse: Despite everything, I fear that Shadow would be devastated if you were to perish.

Eclipse: And secondly, we have a common enemy here.

Rouge: Doctor Eggman and his army?

Eclipse: Yes. But it is specifically that jackal that comes to my mind currently.

Rouge: … What?

Eclipse: Tell me, Rouge, why is it he believes he has fought you before?

Eclipse: You know you haven't fought him before. You were playing around in the deep coils of space. So why? Why does he believe that?

[The camera switches to ROUGE]

Eclipse: Well the answer is very simple. You see, it was I who fought him.

Eclipse: I took your place within Team Dark while you were away, taking your form as well.

Rouge: … But why?

Eclipse: Is that all you can say?

Rouge: N-no!! I'm just-

Eclipse: Confused? Why? I told you already, we have a common enemy here.

Eclipse: I don't wish to see this world taken over by The Doctor, and I know you feel the same.

Rouge: Right, because you think it should be YOU who gets to take over Aerth?

Eclipse: Heh… Something to that effect.

Rouge: Figures. Thanks for saving me or whatever.

Eclipse: And just where do you think you're going?

Rouge: Pardon me?

Eclipse: Your wing is still injured.

Rouge: [looks at wing] … Right.

Eclipse: [approached, hand glowing with chaos energy] Stand still.

Rouge: Uhm?? Just what do you think you're-?!

[ECLIPSE places their hand on ROUGE's wing, healing it]

Rouge: [stunned] … Huh.

Eclipse: The Black Arms have the ability to rapidly regenerate not only their own bodies from wounds, but also the bodies of their comrades if harnessed with chaos energy to quicken said comrades' healing.

Rouge: I am not a Black Arms…

Eclipse: I never said you were.

Rouge: …

Rouge: [starts to take off to fly] Tell Shadow I said hi.

Eclipse: Will do~!

[shadamyheadcanons]

Headcanon #291: Day After Valentine’s Day

((Better late than never, right?

Cross-posted along with its prequel on AO3.

This is the sequel to Headcanon #289, but you don’t have to read that one to understand this one.

You should anyway, though. It’s a good one, if I do say so myself.

Also, these Archie panels are relevant, oddly enough:

^ From issues 22 and 24 of Archie’s Sonic Universe comics. This isn’t even the funniest thing that happens in that arc. A+))

--

Amy rounded the corner of the snack aisle at the grocery store, dragging her feet as she went. Her eyes ran lazily over the foods until she reached the section she was looking for.

She sighed as she perused the wares in front of her. I thought Valentine’s Day would get more bearable over time, but I feel even more drained every year. She held herself as she looked past heart-shaped boxes of chocolate and conversation hearts, hoping to find something a little less specific to the holiday. Her expression tightened. It’s the day after, but I still feel lonely. Will this ever get any easier? She smiled wryly when she spotted a rose-shaped hunk of chocolate. At least there’s always my favorite tradition: half-price Valentine’s candy on the 15th.

She reached out for the chocolate rose. Just as she was about to put her fingers on it, though, another gloved hand got there first.

She jumped. “Oh! Excuse me, I--” She stopped when her gaze trailed up the person’s arm, noting the black fur, red stripe, and eventually a head of spiky quills she knew all too well. “Shadow?”

He held her gaze, his slightly widened eyes being the only indication of his own surprise. His gaze flicked back over to their hands. She removed her hand from his and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry about that!” He nodded in affirmation and removed the chocolate rose from the shelf.

Noting he’d brought neither a cart nor even a basket, Amy couldn’t help but ask, “What are you shopping for? Just that?”

He nodded again. “Candy’s always half-price the day after Valentine’s Day.” He peeked at her nearly empty basket. “You?”

“Heh. We had the same idea. It’s a tradition for me,” Amy admitted, examining the shelves once more. She felt her shoulders droop.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Shadow was still watching her. She put on a smile once more. “Might as well make the most of it, right?”

His expression didn’t change. He kept watching her for several seconds. Then, he glanced down at the rose he was holding and handed it to her. “Here. You should have it.”

Taken aback, Amy glanced between him and the shelf. “But that’s the last one! You got to it first, so you--”

“Take it. You deserve it more.”

He waited, hand extended, while she hesitated.

Is he...trying to make me feel better?

Eventually, she gave in. With a laugh, she took the rose from his hand. “Okay, okay, if you insist.” She carefully placed it in her basket, smiling to herself. “Thank you, Shadow.”

He nodded absently, his attention now back on the shelves of candy. Amy shuffled her feet. “Sooo...how was your Valentine’s Day?”

He hummed softly, not looking away from the shelves. “I looked after Omega to make sure he didn’t burn the house down.”

Amy scoffed. “Why would he do that?”

“He hasn’t liked Valentine’s Day ever since Blaze got with Silver,” Shadow explained, picking up a couple of alternately-colored chocolate bars--one pink, one purple.

Amy frowned and thought back. “Hang on...” Her eyes bugged out. “You mean that time years ago when Omega kept fawning over Blaze because she was good at burning things? He still...?”

Shadow snorted quietly. “Yeah...he never really got over that. He’ll be alright, though.” He put back the purple candy bar and gazed at the pink one in his hand. “It’s just tough when you’re stuck on the same person for a long time.”

Amy’s face fell. I know that better than anyone. How many years have I been stuck on Sonic? She rubbed her upper arm. I’ll never call it a waste, but...

“...Amy? Amy?”

She flinched and shook herself off. “Oh, sorry! What did you say?”

“I asked what you did yesterday,” he clarified, looking at her sideways.

“Oh, right! Uh...Cream and I normally celebrate PAL-entine’s Day,” she joked, “but this year, she actually had a date! Can you believe she’s that age already?! I can’t!”

“But what did you do?”

Shadow’s blunt question made her deflate. “Ah, I just stayed in this year. Nothing too interesting,” she mumbled.

His frown deepened. “By yourself?”

Amy huffed. “What are you trying to say? So what if I didn’t have a date on Valentine’s Day? I’m not gonna cry about it!”

Shadow’s face was unreadable. He just stared at her for a while, long enough to make her nervous. He scratched his chin.

Suddenly, his ears perked up. “You owe me.”

Amy was dumbfounded. What is his deal?! First he gives me the chocolate he wanted, then he shows actual concern for me...only to judge me for not having a date and claim I owe him...? “For what?!” she demanded.

“It was last year at Rouge and Knuckles’ wedding,” he explained. “You promised you’d teach me how to bake cookies, but you still haven’t.”

She could only stare at him blankly. That didn’t explain anything! Now I’m even more confused! She shook her head and took out her phone to open up her calendar. “Uh, okay...when--”

“Today.”

She frowned, looking up from her phone. “Today...?”

He gave a curt nod. “I’m a very busy person, so it has to be today.” He averted his gaze and crossed his arms. “Unless you’re busy with something.”

Amy paused. She looked down at her basket, which held only chocolate and a bottle of wine. She thought back to the movie she already had set up at home, a romance she knew would just make her cry. She chuckled to herself and shook her head.

You know what? Fuck it.

“Alright, alright, fine...but we’ll have to stop by the baking aisle first.”

--

The two of them arrived in Shadow’s kitchen with a green flash. “So what do we do first?” Shadow asked.

“Before any type of cooking or baking, you should lay out every ingredient you need just to make sure you have it all.” Amy started laying out the groceries on the counter. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten halfway through a dish, only to realize I forgot something basic. One time, I got halfway through making sugar cookies before realizing I was out of sugar!” She giggled at the memory.

“Hmm...I hadn’t thought of that,” Shadow muttered.

Amy watched as he laid out the eggs and butter. That’s the first thing anyone learns about cooking! He really didn’t have anyone to teach him, did he? Her sad frown turned determined. Well, that’s what I’m here for!

Shadow’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. “Is this everything?”

Amy scanned the counter. “Hmm...butter, sugar, eggs, vanilla extract, baking soda, salt, flour, aaaand...chocolate chips! Yup! We’re all set!”

Shadow squinted at the ingredients. “Don’t we need a mix or something?”

“Nope! Not if you’re baking the right way,” Amy assured with a cheeky wink. “We’re baking from scratch, just the way Vanilla taught me. It’s all up in here!” She tapped her forehead proudly.

“Huh.”

Amy gave a quick nod. “You’re learning from the best!” she insisted. She approached his stove. “First, you need to preheat the oven. Do you know how to do that?”

She inwardly cringed at her own question. Of course he knows how to preheat an oven. He owns an oven.

Shadow hesitated, though. He joined her in front of the stove and squinted at the console. “Is there a specific button for that...?”

Amy just stared. Chaos, it’s worse than I thought. She took a deep breath and smiled. “Nope! You just turn the dial here. We’re gonna want 350 degrees.” He watched closely as she turned it.

Then, his eyes lit up. “Oh, I’ve done that before. I remember now.”

“Oh, good!”

He nodded with authority. “My microwave died a few years ago, so I had to heat my Hot Pockets in the oven for a couple days until the new one came in.”

The hint of relief Amy had begun to feel immediately died out. She resisted the urge to facepalm.

“Great!” she blurted out instead, returning to the counter. “We’ll need a large bowl, a mixing spoon, and measuring tools.”

Shadow returned with a bowl and a spoon--both a little small for Amy’s taste, but they’d get the job done--but then he got stuck. “When you say ‘measuring tools,’ you mean...?”

Amy frowned for a moment, then perked up. “Oh, right! We’ll need to measure cups, teaspoons, and a half teaspoon.”

His face remained blank. “Yeah, so?”

There was an awkward pause while Amy tried to figure out where she’d lost him. “Y’know, like...little cups and spoons to measure out the cups and teaspoons? They usually come in little collections.” His face didn’t change. She pursed her lips. “They nest with each other in sets,” she tried.

His eyes widened. He zipped off and returned with a set of measuring cups and spoons. “Is that what these are? I didn’t know cooks actually measured, I thought those were just ballpark suggestions.”

Amy stared at Shadow. He stared back.

Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t you dare laugh at him!

She covered her face with her hand. Her smile was strained from holding back laughter. “Yep! We have to make sure all the proportions are right.”

“Ah...that explains a lot.” He looked away. She sorted through the nested cups and kept an eye on him while he continued. “So how come Rouge doesn’t measure when she cooks? She says she just kind of puts in what ‘feels right.’ She left these behind when she moved out, but I never saw her use them.”

“It’s a little different with cooking. If someone has enough experience, they can sometimes get away with it there,” Amy explained. “But you can’t do that with baking! Everything has to be exact, or it won’t come out right.”

“How come?”

Amy pursed her lips while she sorted through the spoons. “There are more chemical reactions involved.” He perked up at that, so she added, “Baking is chemistry, and the ingredients are materials. If you use the wrong ratios or mess with the procedure, the results will be completely off. It’s easy to get things mixed up, too.” She held up the tablespoon and teaspoon utensils, pointing out the similar abbreviations on their handles.

Shadow examined them for a moment, then scoffed. “Hmph. This’ll be easy. I’m a science experiment myself, so I can’t screw this up.”

Amy’s grin widened at his confidence. “Is that how it works? You’ve got it all figured out now?”

“Of course.” He took the teaspoon from her hands. “If you use this much, you get the Ultimate Life Form, but if you fuck up and use this much...” he continued, picking up the tablespoon, “...you get a giant lizard.”

Amy snickered at first, then burst out laughing when the punchline fully hit her. She leaned her head on Shadow’s shoulder as she cracked up, the way she often did with close friends. She could feel his body shake as he chuckled quietly at his own joke.

I wish more people knew how funny Shadow is. Whenever I tell people he makes jokes, they never believe me.

She straightened back up as she calmed down. By then, his gaze was serious and intent once more. Her bright smile remained as she returned to the task at hand.

She leaned in toward Shadow, and he mirrored her action. In a comical stage whisper, she confided, “Now...don’t tell anyone, but I actually cheat a bit with this next part.” She winked.

His subtle but surprised expression made it clear he was taking it entirely too seriously.

She giggled. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. Most people wait until a little later to add the eggs, but I put them in first just in case I crack any eggshells into the mix. It’s easier to get them out if there’s less in the bowl.”

“Oh.” He nodded seriously. “That’s a good idea.”

“It’s just experience.” She waved it off casually, though she couldn’t help but feel flattered at the compliment. “I do this with Cream, too. It took her a while to get the hang of cracking them cleanly.”

Shadow opened up the carton of eggs so Amy could take out two of them. She held one of them over the counter. “Some people crack them against the edge of the bowl, but I crack them directly on the counter.”

“How come?”

“I’ve found it helps keep the eggshell together more,” Amy explained. “If you crack it against an edge, some of the bits separate out and get stuck on the yolk in the middle.” She lightly smacked the egg against the counter, then lifted it over the bowl and easily spread the shell apart, allowing the insides to spill out into the bowl. She tossed the eggshell into the sink. “See? No sweat!”

“Hmph.” Shadow picked up the other egg. He scrutinized it so closely that Amy had to hold back a laugh.

“I can do the second one, too, or you could take a crack at it.” She giggled at her own pun. “It’s up to you.”

Shadow snorted. “As if the Ultimate Life Form would have trouble with such a simple task. I’m built for precision. Physical dexterity is my specialty.”

“Prove it.”

He met her teasing smile with narrowed eyes. He scoffed and turned his attention back to the egg. After squinting at it for a moment longer, as if trying to glean its secrets, he whacked it against the counter just as she had, using exactly the right amount of force. He held it over the sink and expertly spread the shell to let out its contents, as if he’d done so a million times. He tossed the empty shell into the bowl with a brand of confidence only he had. He crossed his arms and puffed out his chest proudly. “Hmph.”

Amy stared at the bowl. She glanced into the sink, then looked back up at Shadow. A few seconds passed while she waited for it to sink in.

Shadow stared at the eggshell sitting in the bowl. His expression didn’t change as he let out a quiet, “...Oh.”

A loud bark of laughter burst from Amy’s lips. She bent down at the waist and held her stomach as she cackled.

Shadow’s expression turned sour, and his ears reddened in humiliation. Amy covered her mouth and rested a hand on his shoulder to ground herself.

“Oh, Shadow, I’m sorry! I--pfft--I can’t help it, that was just too funny!”

He didn’t look placated. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “It’s alright, Shadow. Cream did exactly the same thing when she was first starting out!”

Shadow’s ears perked up, and his expression softened. “Really?”

Amy nodded. “She was so proud of herself, too! But then it hit her, and...” Amy devolved into laughter once more, letting out an involuntary snort.

“Let me guess: she did that thing where she gets embarrassed and puffs out her cheeks?”

Amy gasped. “Yeah! How’d you know?”

“Hmph. I see it all the time when I babysit her. She did it the last time I saw her. Vanilla teased her about someone she knew from her art club.”

Amy giggled. “I bet that was her date from yesterday. It’s cute, isn’t it?”

He nodded. A tiny, lopsided smile graced his face. Amy couldn’t help but grin herself.

He doesn’t smile often, but it’s so nice when he does.

His fleeting smile made way for a determined frown. “I’ll be cracking the other egg. I need to redeem myself.”

Amy snickered under her breath at his overly serious demeanor. She extracted the eggshell from the bowl and disposed of it in the sink. “Be my guest. We’ve got ten left just in case!”

“I won’t need more than one.”

His confident declaration proved to be correct as he cracked the next egg with skill and efficiency, dropping the components in their correct places this time.

Amy nudged his upper arm. “You know, you really are good at that. Most people take a while to get the hang of it.”

“Naturally.” He held his nose in the air. A moment later, though, he muttered a hasty, “Thanks.”

Amy smiled. She picked up the largest measuring cup. “Next, we’ll need butter, white sugar, and brown sugar.”

Shadow handed her the white sugar. He took out a stick of butter, then looked at the measuring cup in confusion. “Ah...how do I...”

Amy pointed to the measurement lines on the side of the wrapper.

“Oh! So...”

“You need to soften it first. Microwave it for a few seconds, but don’t let it burn!” she warned.

“Hmph. I’ve got this. I’m an expert with the microwave.”

Amy almost laughed, but when she saw the sincere look of pride on his face, she held it back. God, he’s serious, isn’t he?

She shook it off and glanced around. “Do you have a knife?”

In a split second, he was back by her side with an assortment of knives in his hand. “I have steak knives, butter knives, paring knives, boring knives, carving knives, utility knives...plus Swiss army knives, combat knives, serrated and beveled edges--”

Amy laughed. “Why am I not surprised that this is the most well-stocked part of your kitchen?” She plucked the butter knife from between his fingers. “This’ll do.”

He zipped off to return the others and returned to her side. “Why do you need a knife?”

Amy dipped the cup into the bag of white sugar. “To get the amount just right.” She lifted the cup to the edge and carefully scraped off the excess with the knife, then dumped the remaining sugar into the bowl. “See?”

Shadow nodded. “Can I try?”

“Mhm!”

He mimicked her motions with the brown sugar, deftly leveling it off and dumping the sugar into the bowl. He nodded his head once in satisfaction.

“Nice! You’re a natural!” she praised.

He opened his mouth to reply, but then his nose twitched, and he dashed over to open the microwave. He retrieved the bowl of now half-melted butter.

Amy’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s perfect! Could you really tell just by smelling it?”

“It’s subtle, but it’s there.”

He poured the butter into the bowl, spreading it out evenly over the sugar. She scratched her chin. “You’ve got a steady hand and a strong nose. You could be a really good chef if you wanted to, you know.”

He lifted his shoulders. “Maybe. It hasn’t really been a priority for me.” Before she could say anything in response, he put the bowl back down and asked, “What’s next?”

“We need to mix it all together.” She glanced around. “I don’t suppose you have an electric mixer, do you?”

In response, Shadow held his communicator up to his face. “Omega, are you busy? I need your assistance.”

Amy cocked her head, so he explained. “I don’t know if Rouge took it with her or not, but I can’t find it. I hardly used it as it was, though, so I’ve been taking another approach.”

The metallic clanging of Omega’s footsteps approached. He paused in the doorway upon seeing the two of them. “GREETINGS, AMY ROSE. SHADOW, WHAT IS MY MISSION?”

Shadow inclined his head toward the bowl. “We need to mix these ingredients.”

“UNDERSTOOD.” Omega held up one of his clawed hands. He pressed a button on his arm, and his hand started spinning, his sharp silver fingers whirring around at an alarming speed.

Amy cringed, head filling with images of sugar, eggs, and butter being flung from the bowl at high velocity to coat the walls of the kitchen. “Ahhh, just one sec!” she cut in, stepping forward to take ahold of the bowl herself. “We might want to be a little more careful.”

The high-pitched whirring stopped. “WHY?”

Amy picked up the spoon Shadow had given to her earlier and started stirring the mixture vigorously herself. “It’s easier to keep things under control if you stir by hand. An electric mixer can help, but the manual approach might be better for now.”

She eyed Omega’s knife-like fingers warily. Not to mention safer.

Omega watched awkwardly as she stirred. “Sorry to call you in here for nothing, Omega,” she apologized. “I hope we didn’t interrupt anything important.”

“I WAS ENGAGING IN TARGET PRACTICE TO TEST THE NEW MISSILE LAUNCHER G.U.N. INSTALLED FOR ME.” Omega’s eyes glowed with excitement. “ITS DESTRUCTIVE POWER IS EXHILARATING.”

Shadow reached for the bowl in Amy’s arms. She handed it over, and he took over the stirring for a while as he spoke. “It’s a good thing the training area’s soundproofed. Personally, I think G.U.N. went overboard.”

“THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS ‘OVERBOARD’ WHEN IT COMES TO DESTRUCTIVE POTENTIAL, ONLY POWER AND THOSE TOO COWARDLY TO WIELD IT.”

Shadow snorted, and Amy giggled.

Omega changed the subject. “WHY ARE YOU NOT TRAINING AS WELL, SHADOW? IT IS SATURDAY AFTERNOON. YOU TRAIN EVERY SATURDAY FROM 1 PM UNTIL 4 PM. ANOMALY DETECTED.”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t look up from the bowl. “I can train later. I’m in the middle of something important.”

“YOU ARE A CREATURE OF HABIT. THIS BEHAVIOR IS HIGHLY ABNORMAL. SHALL I CONSULT A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL?”

Shadow’s stirring grew faster. “I’m fine. I don’t get sick.”

Amy glanced back and forth between Shadow and Omega, confused.

“YOU HAVE NOT SKIPPED A TRAINING SESSION IN FOUR YEARS, THREE MONTHS, THIRTEEN DAYS, AND--”

“Ah--I think it’s mixed well enough!” Amy cut in, taking the bowl from Shadow’s hands. She smiled sheepishly up at Omega. “Do you want to bake cookies with us, Omega? It must be lonely training by yourself.”

Omega’s cooling fans sped up. “I AM FINE! I REQUIRE NO ASSISTANCE!”

Amy flinched, but Shadow just held a hand to his forehead.

Omega tromped back toward the door. “I AM AN INDEPENDENT ROBOT! I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF BURNING THINGS ALONE!” His metal footsteps retreated down the hall.

Amy winced as she realized the sore spot she’d just hit. “Poor Omega.”

“It’s gotten a lot better,” Shadow muttered, leaning toward her to make himself heard. “The first year, I had to remind him that Silver can stop bullets and crush metal.”

Amy’s face twisted in sympathy, but then she smiled up at Shadow. “I’m glad he has you to look after him!”

He shrugged it off. “I just do what I have to for public safety.”

Amy giggled. She picked up the vanilla extract. “This next part is always a little nerve-racking for me. If you add even one extra drop of vanilla extract, it can ruin the whole thing. It’s that strong! So..” She found the teaspoon and pressed that and the vanilla extract into Shadow’s hands. “Can you? Please? You have steadier hands than I do!”

She looked up at him with the cutest, most endearing expression she could muster.

He just gave her an unimpressed look, then sighed. “You can put the puppy-dog eyes away. I can handle this.”

She squealed happily. “Yes!” She directed him to pour in two teaspoons. He stirred it all together while she took out the baking soda and salt.

As she guided him through the next few steps, she couldn’t help but notice just how intensely he watched, the way he was hanging on her every word. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to. After a lifetime of being the silly girl with a crush, the tagalong who followed Sonic around, the one whose feelings were a little too big...it felt as if everyone treated her like a naïve little girl who knew nothing about the world. She couldn’t count the number of times her friends and foes alike had disregarded her feelings and input.

Even her “little sister” thought she had her head in the clouds.

But as Shadow watched her, focusing on everything she had to say, she felt none of that. In fact, it occurred to her that he’d never made her feel that way. Every word she’d spoken to him had been given a level of care and consideration she never got to feel with anyone else.

“What’s next?” Shadow asked.

Amy thought back, checked all the ingredients, and grinned. “That’s it for prep! We just have to bake them in the oven now.” After checking to make sure the oven was preheated, she opened it and slid in the first tray. Shadow did the same with the other. She set the timer for nine minutes. “This recipe usually takes ten minutes to bake, so I set it for nine minutes and check on them a little early so they don’t burn.”

Shadow’s gaze was fixed on the timer. “Why don’t you just turn the heat higher? It’d make them cook faster.” He reached for the temperature knob.

“No!” She stumbled over to grab his hand. “That’s not how it works!”

He paused and looked down at their hands. His eyes turned...mischievous? “How come? It’s at 350 degrees, so why not 700 degrees for 5 minutes?” He reached for the knob with his free hand.

She immediately grabbed that hand, too. “NO! You’re going to ruin our cookies!”

“1400 degrees for two and a half minutes. 2800 degrees for one minute and fifteen seconds.”

“Stopppp!” Amy cut in, though they were both laughing by then. “If you bake them faster at higher heat, then the outside will burn and the inside won’t cook all the way through.” He nodded in response, still paying rapt attention even through their laughter.

Her giggles quieted, and she could hear his own low chuckles under his breath. She decided she liked the sound.

“Mmm?”

A soft sound drew their attention from the floor. A pink Chao was peeking around the corner, its eyes focused on their joined hands. Its emote ball had formed a curious question mark.

Shadow released Amy’s hands and made his way over to the Chao. He squatted down next to it and held out a hand. The Chao put its paw in his and gazed up at Amy, clearly skeptical.

Amy could just barely hear Shadow’s voice as he spoke to it. “Do you want to say hi, Rosie?”

The Chao looked back and forth between the two hedgehogs. After a moment of contemplation, she bobbed her head.

“Good.” Shadow led the Chao into the middle of the room. He stopped, leaving extra space between Amy and the Chao. “Rosie, this is Amy. She’s a friend of mine.”

Amy squatted down to the Chao’s level, just as Shadow had. She smiled disarmingly and waved. “Hi!” she greeted, keeping her voice quiet. “It’s nice to meet you!”

The Chao shuffled over to hide behind Shadow’s feet. Shadow kept an eye on her, but he didn’t pressure her to respond to Amy. Instead, he just waited. After about ten seconds, Rosie peeked out from behind Shadow’s foot. She waved a shy paw at Amy. Amy beamed.

So cute!!

Shadow nodded in approval and gestured down at the Chao. “This is Rosie. I adopted her from the shelter last week.”

Rosie kept her eyes fixed on Amy. She sucked on her paw. Shadow leaned in to exchange a few words with the Chao. He stood and retrieved a bowl and a few spices from his cabinets. He took out a couple square fruits from a basket Amy hadn’t noticed before. She watched in fascination as he chopped up the fruits, then scraped them into the bowl along with a dash of nutmeg and a dusting of cinnamon. He stirred the concoction as he made his way to the kitchen table. Rather than remaining on the floor to eat as most Chao would, Rosie climbed up to sit on one of the chairs. Shadow allowed her to do so, though he spotted her to make sure she didn’t fall.

Amy cocked her head in confusion. What is going on? Why didn’t he just pick her up?

Rosie’s tail wagged happily. Now fully focused on the food, she dug in while Amy watched, baffled.

Shadow walked over to stand by her side. “Rosie’s...been through a lot,” he muttered. “She needs support that other Chao don’t. And she’s picky.” He chuckled once under his breath. “Kind of like me.”

Amy’s gaze drifted from the happy Chao up to Shadow’s face, which showed a small, fond smile. Her heart melted.

This guy doesn’t know the first thing about cooking, but he figured out just what spices to use to take care of a Chao who needed his help. He’s been looking after his silly, lovestruck robot friend for years. He happily babysits Cream. He’s made it his entire life mission to protect anyone who calls this planet home.

And...come to think of it...

“Shadow...is this really about cookies?”

Shadow immediately stiffened. His wide eyes slid over to Amy’s knowing smile with trepidation. His jaw clenched, and he crossed his arms tightly in front of him. “Well...” he croaked out. He scratched the back of his neck and looked away.

He sighed. “You...you looked so sad. I couldn’t...”

She remained silent. His shoulders dropped, and he met her eyes once more. “I know you hate being alone.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he stopped her.

“I can tell.”

She waited. Eventually, he continued.

“I’m not good at cheering people up. But...I thought if you didn’t have to be alone, then maybe you’d feel a little better.”

He kept eye contact. Her heart gave an odd lurch. “Shadow, I...” She trailed off and bit her lip, then asked, “Can I hug you?”

He nodded. She pulled him into a tight hug, tucking her head under his chin. She felt his arms wrap around her, tentative but reassuring, and she buried her face in his soft chest fur. “Today was wonderful. Thank you.”

He didn’t reply, but he gently cradled the back of her head and held her closer.

Just as she was noticing how warm he was, the oven let out a series of loud, piercing beeps, making her jump. She could hear Rosie whine in discomfort at the noise. Shadow immediately let go and made his way to the stove. He turned off the timer, opened the oven, and reached in as if to grab one of the cookie sheets.

“Wait, stop!” Amy cried out, jumping forward to grab his hand. “You’re gonna burn yourself!”

“I heal quickly. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes it is! It would still hurt!” She sighed and checked the cookies. This guy...

She closed the oven door. “They should stay in for another minute.” She reached for the timer, but Shadow stopped her, nodding toward Rosie, who still seemed shaken by the noise. Amy looked up at Shadow again.

You know how to take care of just about everyone...except yourself.

Maybe it’s about time someone returned the favor.

Amy pursed her lips. She mulled it over, then spoke.

“We could hang out again some other time if you want. I could teach you how to cook some other things.”

His eyes widened. After a few seconds that felt far more nerve-racking than Amy had anticipated, he lifted his shoulders. “...I guess I could use the help.”

She half-smiled. “I’d be happy to, though I’d understand if you didn’t have the time. What with you being such a busy guy and all.”

“I don’t have much spare time. But if something is important to me, I’ll make time for it.”

Amy could read between the lines.

I’ll make time for you.

She clasped her hands together in front of her and beamed. “Does next weekend work for you?”

He took out his phone to peruse his calendar, then nodded. “Sunday at exactly 5:15. Don’t be late.”

“Of course I won’t. It’s important to me, too,” she replied with a wink.

--

Amy waved to Shadow and left, bringing half the cookies with her. Shadow took a bite of one from his own stash, savoring the soft texture and sweet flavor.

“Ah?”

Shadow peeked down to see Rosie was pointing to Amy, shooting him an inquisitive look.

“Hmph.” Shadow sat down beside Rosie and scratched under her chin, enjoying the contented noise she made. “Someday I’ll tell her...but today, she needed a friend.”

--

((Most of Shadow’s failures are mistakes I personally made when I first started baking, and I actually do crack the eggs first like Amy does here. It’s probably not “standard,” but I think it should be! I’ve also only ever made cookies with a mix before, not from scratch. No shame! The recipe I looked up for this headcanon is located here.

Fair warning: I have no idea whether that recipe is any good.

If you want to read more about Rosie, she originally appeared in Shadow Sitting. Shadow first adopted her in A Rosie Outlook.))

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore

💀💀💀

The sleepy town of Birch was awake. 

In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.

It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.

As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.

The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful. 

You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.

You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much. 

You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.

You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.

You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.

You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps. 

You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.

You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.

💀

You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.

“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.

“For what?” you scoffed.

“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.

You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.

“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”

“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”

She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.

“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.

“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”

“Language,” she huffed.

“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”

“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.

“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”

“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”

“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok. 

“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.

“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”

“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”

“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”

“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”

“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”

She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.

“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”

“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”

“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”

“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”

“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”

💀

Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.

When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.

You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.

As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce. 

“More basil,” she snipped.

“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”

“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”

“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.

“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”

“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”

“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”

You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.

You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.

You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.

You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.

“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.

You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.

“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.

The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way. 

You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.

“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.

“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.

“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”

“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.

“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”

As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.

“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.

“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.

“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.

“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.

“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”

“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.

“Am I bothering you?” he asked.

You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.

“Sorta,” you answered.

“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”

You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.

You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.

“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”

“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”

“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”

“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.

“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.

“Well?”

“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.

“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.

You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.

[thebaddestofbatches]

The Bad Batch Preferences pt. 1

Kissing

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

Crosshair

Favorite Place: Just behind your ear and along your jaw. He prefers to wrap his arms around you from behind and these places are easier to reach. Plus they’re more sensitive and he likes to watch you squirm.

Makeouts: Definitely. And frequently. Whenever he gets back from a mission, you do something he finds hot, or just because he hasn’t kissed you in awhile.

First Kiss:

It was hot on Techitua. Dusty too. You lowered your shades on your nose, a polarized version of Tech’s goggles as Crosshair opened a case on the ground.

A makeshift shooting range was set up parallel to the Marauder, a metal piece with a target spray painted on it placed at a distance of 25 meters.

Hunter had told you that if you wanted to stay on board, you needed to know how to defend yourself and assigned you to Crosshair, without even asking if you had any prior experience.

“Alright. I don’t expect you to be top notch with this thing.” Crosshair said, his tone borderline patronizing as he removed a small blaster from the case. “Blasters take a lot of practice to use correctly and you’re only a doctor. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t hit anything.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and took the blaster from his hand. Barely looking at the target, you took aim and fired one, two, three, four, five shots.

Crosshair’s slack jaw and a quick glance told you they all hit the bullseye.

“You forget, soldier,” You said smugly. “I’m an army doctor. I can rip you apart and put you back together just as easily.”

Crosshair’s toothpick hit the dirt and then he was on you, smashing his lips to your hungrily.

.*(*)*..**(*)**...**(***)**...**(*)**..*(*)*.

Echo

Favorite place: Your hand. He likes to hold your hand and bring it up to his lips for absentminded kisses. When you cup his face, he turns his head and presses kisses to your palm.

Makeouts: Not too often. He’s shy after all his modifications and you definitely have to initiate them, but once he relaxes, then he’s into it.

First Kiss:

“Dang ferreck!” You swore as the control panel of the rescued radio shocked you for the fifth time that night.

You gave it a swift thump on the top in retaliation, gritting your teeth.

You needed this to work. It had to work. It’d been so long since you heard real music.

Another try at the wiring and another spark that singed your fingertips. You let out another string of curses and tossed your screwdriver onto the counter with a clank before thumping your forehead against the table repeatedly.

There was a gentle touch on your back that stopped your assault on your cranium. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. You could feel the poke of Echo’s prosthetic through your tunic.

“You alright?” He asked.

“No,” You grumbled into the metal.

Echo sighed quietly and after some shifting behind you, you raised your head to see his human hand disconnect two crossed wires and reconnect them at new points. There was a fizz of static and then a gentle song began to float through the speakers.

You let out a whoop of joy and leaped to your feet, grabbing the clone by his collar to pull him down for a quick kiss.

“Thank you!” You squealed, snatching up your screwdriver again and leaving Echo standing there, stunned and pink.

.*(*)*..**(*)**...**(***)**...**(*)**..*(*)*.

Hunter

Favorite place: Your neck. He likes to feel your pulse point and kiss the sunmarks and spots along your skin. It’s also one of the best places for him to get your scent.

Makeouts: Not as often as Crosshair, but frequent. He likes to be affectionate with you and when he gets time or feels stressed, being around you and close to you is his priority.

First Kiss:

You’d been separated from the Batch in a marketplace and were now wandering aimlessly.

As you passed an alleyway you heard a whistle and a man sidled up to you.

“Hey gorgeous,” He said. “Where you going?”

“Away from you,” You muttered, but he heard it anyway and snorted. “Feisty girl.”

A gag rose up in your throat and you increased your pace. Behind you the man called. “Hey I’m talking to you! Though I appreciate the view!”

A hand landed on your butt and you whirled, fist raised to deck the stranger for daring to touch you. Before you could though, someone stepped between you and punched him, hard.

You looked up to see Hunter, a deep scowl on his tattooed face as he glowered at your harasser.

“Don’t touch her,” He growled, drawing up to his full height.

The man spat and launched himself at Hunter, sending them both rolling to the ground.

There was some yelling and sounds of fists hitting bodies before Hunter scrambled to his feet breathing hard as your harasser lay on the ground, groaning.

Hunter turned to you with worried eyes and you punched him in the arm hard and then quickly pecked his lips. “You didn’t have to make a scene.”

“Sorry,” He said, not sounding sorry at all as he pulled you in for another kiss.

.*(*)*..**(*)**...**(***)**...**(*)**..*(*)*.

Tech

Favorite place: Your forehead and temples. He can get so busy with this or that and a quick peck to the forehead is his go-to for affection when he’s caught up in something.

Makeouts: Usually whenever he gets an idea he wants to try with you. He learned affection mainly from books so he’s picking up more and more as he goes. Usually you initiate the sessions. However, when he gains confidence later in the relationship, things get more serious as he experiments.

First Kiss:

“Tech?” You called from the porch of your hideout. Hunter had sent you to fetch the male for dinner and so far he was nowhere to be found.

“In here!” The clone called and you followed the sound into the shed to see Tech holding two vials above a pot.

“What’re you doing?” You asked leaning on the doorframe.

“I’m testing a theory. The substance excreted from the fire salamanders’ skin may have some properties that can boost our explosives.” He replied, carefully tipping the vial of white powder in, followed by the orange liquid.

“And you thought it was a good idea to test that in my shed?” You said, quirking a brow.

The technician had the decency to look a little abashed. “Well it isn’t in the house.”

He set the tubes aside and picked up a firestarter, holding it over the pot. “And a spark to trigger the reaction..”

Crack. Fwoomp! Boom!

The small windows shattered and you ducked as a blaze burst up from the pot and then died out just as quickly, sending up a cloud of ash and dust.

When the smoke receded, you heard Tech give a small cough and looked over to see his whole face covered in soot and the front of his normally gelled back hair spiked up.

You burst into giggles, picking up a small cloth from the worktable and approaching the clone to wipe his goggles clean.

He blinked at you from behind the lenses, like he was surprised to see you and you smiled. “That went well.”

Tech gave you a sheepish look. “I’m sorry about the windows. I’ll fix them tomorrow.”

You laughed again, waving him off. “It’s alright. I was prepared for damages when I brought you lot here.”

He gave you a grateful look and suddenly you couldn’t help yourself, darting forward and pecking his lips.

Tech immediately turned scarlet. “What was that for?”

You shrugged. “For being you.”

And then you passed him the cloth with a wink. “Hunter says dinner’s ready. You should probably clean up a bit before you come inside.”

.*(*)*..**(*)**...**(***)**...**(*)**..*(*)*.

Wrecker

Favorite place: Your cheeks and nose. He likes to pepper kisses all over your face. He’s so enraptured by you that he wants to keep you close at all times to make sure you’re real. Plus he’s a massive cuddlebug.

Makeouts: On occasion. But this boy is too much of a teddy bear for anything more than gentle loving touches. He’s slow and sweet and so very careful with you.

First Kiss:

The Batch was pinned down in an abandoned bunker as a gang faction gathered outside. Echo was doing his best to reboot the turrets while Tech worked on the doors, but unless it happened fast, you weren’t getting out of this unscathed.

You were peering out one of the broken windows with Hunter, Crosshair, and Wrecker picking off grunts where you could, but they had greater numbers and illegal firepower.

A shot from a bike mounted turret hit the wall above your lookout and the ceiling caved in, causing Wrecker tackle you, cradling you to him as he rolled away.

“You alright?” He asked, pushing off of you, his voice higher than normal.

“Yeah.” You said and Hunter swore as glass shattered behind you.

“Echo!! What’s the status on those defense systems?!”

“Same as you asked thirty seconds ago!” Echo snapped. “These circuits are rubbish! This place should have been scrapped for parts years ago!”

Parts.

A light bulb went off in your brain and you immediately turned to Wrecker. “Give me a charge!”

“Why?!”

“Trust me!”

He gave you a look you couldn’t read under the helmet, but dropped an explosive in your palm.

Immediately you started dismantling it. “I need a gravmag, some wires, and anything explosive we can spare. Oh and Echo’s arm.”

“What?” Said Echo.

You ignored him and started your hunt for parts as you snatched a screwdriver, a multipurpose laser tool, and pliers from Tech’s backpack, stripped a console, broke Crosshair’s gravmag off of his grappling hook, and took three more charges from Wrecker. You dismantled, screwed, and rewired before beckoning Echo over and having him weld it all together.

“(Y/N),” Wrecker asked as he fired off another shot. “What are you doing?”

You waved him off as you activated your new, shoddy weapon of mass destruction and bolted for the window, lobbing it as hard and far as you could.

“Hit the dirt!” You yelled and there was a large boom and the whole building rattled.

When the dust cleared, you beamed proudly at the clear landscape.

The gang that had been surrounding your hiding place was now lying unconscious having been thrown a good 50 meters in all directions at extreme speeds.

“What-“ Said Crosshair in his rare stunned tone. “What did you do?”

“Simply,” You said. “I reversed the polarity and made it into a big bang.”

Wrecker whooped and tossed his helmet aside, scooping you into a bear hug and peppering kisses all over your face. “THAT’S MY GIRL!”

You turned pink and he drew back from you enough to press a sweet kiss to your lips, which only served to fill your face with crimson.

There was an awkward cough from one of his brothers and Wrecker turned a similar shade of red, setting you back on the ground.

“Er-“ He said, patting your shoulder awkwardly. “Good job.”

[waitimcomingtoo]

Evans

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom gets jealous after he witnesses a moment between you and Chris Evans

Masterlist

As much as you loved filming the movies, your favorite part about being in the MCU was going to the conventions.

You loved getting on stage with your cast mates and answering questions. You especially loved when you got to attend the conventions with your best friend Tom. Your fondest memories with him were made during nights following a convention. You’d always get a joint hotel room and stay up late, too buzzed on adrenaline from the panel to fall asleep.

Going to conventions with Tom usually opened up a whole new debate on the nature of your relationship. Snap chats and Instagram stories made from the same hotel room always set off more theories that you were dating. You weren’t, but you didn’t mind the theories.

The current panel you were at was no different from the others. The whole cast stood in a line, with you sandwiched between Tom and Mackie. You listened along to all the questions asked until you heard your name.

“Chris, you and Y/n worked together in the past on Scott Pilgrim vs The World, where you played one of her evil ex boyfriends.” The journalist said to Chris Evans. “How did you react when you heard she was joining the MCU cast?

“I was really happy about it.” Chris said into his mic. “I’ll admit, I had a bit of a crush on Y/n when we were filming Scott Pilgrim so I was very excited when she got added to the cast.”

Tom felt his ears turn pink when he heard Chris’s confession. It was no secret that he liked you, but he had no idea Chris liked you too. He looked to you to see your reaction, mouth going dry when he saw the shocked smile on your face.

“Are you serious?” You laughed in surprise. “I had a crush on you too.”

Tom turned away a little, suddenly feeling a sick feeling in his stomach. He didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“What?” He raised his eyebrows. “How did I not know?”

“Because I was awkward and shy and didn’t know how to talk to you.” You said sheepishly as you pressed a cold hand to your face. “But I swear, I told Michael and Anna all about it.”

Tom lowered his microphone so the crowd couldn’t hear him gulp. He didn’t know why it bothered him as much as it did to know you and Chris had feelings for each other. You had filmed Scott Pilgrim a few years back, so the feelings were long gone by now. Still, it sent a white hot jealously through Toms veins as he watched you and Chris smile at each other.

“I can’t believe you never told me.” Chris chuckled. “I actually remember being upset that we didn’t have a kiss in the movie. I was like, how am I playing one of her boyfriends but we don’t get to kiss?”

“Aw.” Tom forced a laugh. “Poor you.”

The audience laughed at his joke, but you never took your eyes off Chris.

“I was genuinely upset about it at the time.” Chris continued. “I think I called my mom to complain.”

Tom watched with a tight jaw as you held your hand over your heart and beamed. You were obviously loving the attention from Chris while Tom was hating it.

“Hey, I didn’t write the script.” You shrugged. “I definitely would’ve thrown one in there if I had.”

“I think the movie is perfect as it is.” Tom cut in, earning a few laughs. “I don’t think there needed to be a kiss. Kisses are stupid anyway.”

“Wait a minute, we almost kissed in the last movie too.” Chris remembered. “To like hide our faces from HYDRA agents or something.”

“That’s right.” You gasped. “They took it out before we ever shot it.”

“Such a shame.” Chris clicked his tongue as he shook his head. “Missed you twice now.”

The reaction from the audience made you hide your face in embarrassment, feeling your face hot to the touch.

“I promise, you’re not missing much.” You laughed shyly.

“Yeah, well.” Chris rubbed the back of his neck. “I bet I was.”

Just when Tom thought it couldn’t get any worse, he saw an idea pop into your head.

“Wait, hold my mic.” You said as you handed your microphone to Anthony.

Tom could only watch as you walked across the stage and put your hands on either side of Chris’s face before pulling him into a kiss. The audience was deafening as Chris kissed you back. It didn’t last long, but it was long enough to make all the color drain from Toms face. You both pulled away laughing, Chris with his signature hand over his left side. You clapped your hands as you laughed before walking back to your spot.

“Well damn.” Anthony said into his microphone. “I didn’t get to kiss her either.”

“Yeah.” Sebastian teased. “Do we all get some of that?”

“Shut up.” You laughed shyly as you fixed your hair. “There. Now you got your kiss.”

“Thank you.” Chris laughed into his microphone. “I was not expecting that.”

“Neither was I.” Tom mumbled, his microphone hanging limply at his side. The rest of the panel went by without any further flirtations, but Tom wouldn’t have known if there had been. He had completely zoned out, too upset with what he had seen to focus.

~

You unlocked the door to your shared hotel room and saw Tom sitting at the kitchen table. His face was buried in his phone and he skimmed through the endless amount of tweets about the kiss from earlier. It was only making him more angry to see thousands of gifs and pictures of it, as well as all the messages from fans saying what a cute couple you and Chris made, but he couldn’t stop. He was too busy scrolling to hear you come in.

“Hey.” You smiled at him as you set your stuff down. “You did such a good job out there. I swear, you always get the most laughs. It’s not fair.”

“Hm.” Tom nodded, keeping his eyes on his phone. “Thanks.”

“Is everything okay?” You frowned when you noticed his standoffish behavior. You walked over to him and reached out to touch him, but he moved away.

“Yeah.” He shrugged unconvincingly. “It’s fine. We’re fine.”

“I didn’t ask if we were fine.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Are we not fine?”

“I said we were fine.” He held up his hands in annoyance. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” You rolled your eyes a little. “Sorry I asked.”

Tom gave you a sarcastic smile and went back to his phone, completely ignoring you now. You didn’t know what his problem was, but you knew you didn’t want to fight.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something? You can pick this time.” You offered, trying to offer an olive branch.

“Actually, I’m kinda tired.” He said faintly. “I think I’m just gonna turn in.”

“Really? It’s so early.” You checked your phone and saw it was only 8 pm. “And I’m bored.”

“Yeah?” He finally looked up at you. “Then why don’t you go see what Evans is up to? I’m sure he’d love to finish what you started on stage today.”

You jutted your head back in surprise, not expecting that to come out of his mouth. He looked partial to guilty for snapping at you, but his anger was the most prominent emotion.

“What?” You laughed in shock. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you kissing Evans in front of all those people.” He snapped. “I didn’t even know you liked him like that.”

You laughed again, thinking he had to be joking. You never said it out loud, but you assumed Tom knew you liked him. After all, you were the only cast mates sharing a hotel room.

“I don’t.” You said, unsure where that accusation came from.

“Yeah?” He cocked his head. “Cause it kinda looked like you did.”

“I don’t.” You repeated. “I used to when we were filming Scott Pilgrim a few years ago but I stopped before we even wrapped.”

“Then why did you kiss him?” Tom asked, his voice wearing thin.

“I don’t know. We were joking around.” You shrugged it off. “It was for the fans, if anything. You know how much they love that stuff.”

“They would’ve loved it just as much if you had just blown him a kiss.” Tom said. “You didn’t have to kiss him.”

“Who cares?” You asked. “Everyone loved it.”

“Not everyone.” He stated, keeping his eyes on the ground. You looked at him for a moment, realizing you had never seen him act like this.

“Why are you getting so upset about this?” You asked calmly, still not understanding.

“Because what you did upset me.” He shouted as he gestured to himself.

“Why?” You raised your voice as well now. “It was just a stupid joke. It had nothing to do with you.”

“It wasn’t a joke to me.” He shook his head. “Watching you practically run across the stage to kiss him in front of all those people was not a joke.”

“I didn’t run across the stage.” You said, starting to get annoyed. “I walked to him and kissed him. That’s it. It’s not a big deal.”

“Did you like it?” He asked with an unreadable expression.

“What?”

“Did you like kissing him?” He repeated as he let out a shaky breath.

“You know how it feels to kiss other actors.” You shrugged. “It just felt like lips on lips.”

“You must have some sort of feelings for him to kiss him like that.” He said, his eyes looking glassy.

“So what if I do?” You retorted, angry with him now for yelling at you.

“What?” His voice came out in a whisper. “Do you?”

“Are you listening to anything I’m saying? I don’t have feelings for Evans. But if I did, it wouldn’t be any of your business. Because maybe you haven’t realized this yet, but you’re not my boyfriend.” You yelled, making him retreat into himself.

The silence that followed was deafening, making you feel guilty for what you said. You felt like you popped the happy bubble that you and Tom lived in, the one where you never confronted your feelings for each other but understood that they were there. Tom sucked in a sharp breath and let out a long sigh as he looked you in the eyes. He gave you a sad smile and nodded his head as if he was reluctantly agreeing with you. You opened your mouth to speak, but Tom was already moving past you. His shoulder brushed yours as he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

You stood there in shock, unsure of what just happened. You felt like you had just broken up with someone you were never actually with. You covered your mouth with your hand, ashamed with what you had said to him. You hit him where you knew it would hurt him and now he was gone.

~

Despite sharing a hotel room, you didn’t see Tom until the next morning. He was eating breakfast at the kitchen counter, not looking at you as you made coffee. You sighed and sat down next to him, knowing you had to make things right before you went out to do press. You didn’t want to spend a full day doing interviews with him without resolving the fight.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday.” You began as you watched his face for his reaction. “It was mean of me to tell you you weren’t my boyfriend like that.”

“It’s okay.” He mumbled as he stirred his tea. “You don’t have to apologize. You were right. I’m not your boyfriend.”

“We need to talk about yesterday.” You said softly as you looked at him. You could tell he was still bitter about the kiss.

“I don’t want-“

“We have to.” You cut him off. “We had a fight and now we need to talk about it.”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes before slumping in his seat.

“You start.” You said as you put your folded hands on the table.

“I don’t know where to start.” He mumbled.

“Just tell me how you feel.” You suggested. Tom sighed as he put his words together in his mind, wanting to make things right just as much as you did.

“I didn’t like it even you kissed Chris.” He said softly, keeping his eyes on the table.

“I got that part.” You tried to joke. “Why?”

“Because he’s older and taller and bigger than me.” Tom listed off.

“And?” You were confused.

“And I can’t compete.” Tom whispered, hanging his head in shame. The fragility in his voice made your heart break and you realized he was never angry with you.

He was heartbroken.

“Tommy, you don’t have to compete with anyone.” You said softly as you stroked his cheek with your thumb.

“I didn’t think I had to.” He continued. “I thought I had you. I know we don’t really talk about…us, but I thought we had an unspoken agreement that we liked each other. I know I liked you and I thought you liked me back until you…”

“Until I what?” You asked.

“Kissed another boy.” He laughed sadly. “Sorry. A man. Captain freaking America.”

“You were jealous.” You realized, trying to fight back a smile. “That’s why you threw your little tantrum.”

“How could I not be?” He looked up. “Have you seen how broad his shoulders are?”

You had to laugh, which made him crack a smile. The tension had disappeared and you had entered new territory, so you decided to keep going.

“And have you seen the way I look at you?” You teased him. “Or the way I immediately go to you in a crowded room? Have you seen how I’m always finding a way to touch you? Does any of that sound familiar?”

“Yeah.” Tom smiled sheepishly. “It does.”

“I like you too.” You admitted. “Of course I like you too. But I already told you, that kiss was just a joke. It was just for the fans.”

“I know.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “It just shook my confidence, you know? I figured if he wanted you too, I didn’t stand a chance.”

“I don’t want him.” You assured him. “I want you.”

Toms lips curved into a smile, a proud look coming across his face. He reached over and put his hand on top of yours, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“I never should have yelled at you.” He said quietly as he stared at your hands. “I just hated that he got to kiss you before I did.”

“I get that.” You nodded. “But you can’t flip out and yell at me when you get a little jealous. You have to be okay with me being close to other people.”

“I know. I’m sorry that I got so jealous.” He shook his head at himself. “I’m not that guy. I don’t want you thinking that’s who I am.”

“I know who you are.” You leaned over the table and tilted his chin so he would look at you. “Why do you think I like you as much as I do?”

“I like hearing you say that.” He mumbled, keeping his eyes on your lips.

“I like saying it.” You smirked at him as you began to lean in.

Before your lips could touch, his phone buzzed, making both of you jump. Tom sighed and picked up his phone to see what the interruption was.

“Shoot. That’s Rachel.” He frowned. “She wants me down at hair and makeup. Can we talk about this later? This is really important to me and I don’t want to rush it.”

“Of course.” You nodded. “Go get your hair done. We’ll talk later.”

Tom gave you an apologetic smile before getting up and putting his cup in the sink. He moved to the door but you stood up.

“Tom, wait.” You called, quickly walking to where he was. You put your hands on his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek, letting it linger until you felt his cheeks heat up.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” You told him, making him feel better about missing out on the kiss. He smiled softly and nodded before leaving the hotel room. You left to get your own hair and makeup done, an idea forming in your mind as you sat in your chair.

~

After getting hair and makeup done, you walked down to the lobby and went into one of the conference rooms. You saw the rest of the cast standing in a circle and went up to to them.

“There she is.” Anthony clapped as you walked up to the group. “Mrs. Evans.”

“Don’t start with that. You’re just mad it wasn’t you I was kissing out there.” You teased him, making him laugh.

“Maybe. I have a feeling I know who else is mad.” He said as he nodded his head to gesture to something behind you. You turned around and saw Tom approaching, a smile taking over your features at the sight of him. He gave you a knowing look and stood next to you as he joined the group.

“Hey guys.” He greeted, shooting Chris a quick look.

“There you are.” You smiled a little before grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him into a kiss. You felt his wide eyes flutter shut, eyelashes tickling you as he closed his eyes. He stepped forward to get closer to you before bringing his hand to face. The cast exchanged knowing looks right before you pulled away, a smile on both of your faces.

“Woah. When did that happen?” Scarlett nudged you.

“I thought it’d been happening for a while.” Anthony snorted. “Was I the only one?”

“No, I definitely saw something there. That’s why I was so surprised about yesterday.” Chris chuckled. You felt Tom tense up when he mentioned it, so you gave him a look. He relaxed and nodded, reminding himself he had nothing to be jealous of.

“I was surprised too.” He said, keeping his tone playful. “So don’t let it happen again.”

“I won’t.” Chris held up his hands. “Dodger and I are very happen on our own. He’s not willing to share me with anyone.”

“He and I have that in common then.” Tom said as draped his arm around your shoulders.

“Whats that?” You asked as you looked at Tom. He gave you a soft smile before pulling you closer to kiss your forehead.

“I don’t like to share.”

Tag List 🏷

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[makeste]

BnHA 326: What’s up Kids, It’s Me, Your Old Pal Stain

Previously on BnHA: Ochako shamed the U.A. Clown Mob into letting Deku go back inside his own fucking school by giving them an hour-long speech about how not to be humongous dickheads. Kouta and Gigantic Fox Lady saved the manga by being the only ones brave enough to give Deku a hug. Shouto was all “man, all this togetherness sure does remind me of that promise you made that we would handle Touya together which you immediately bailed on, doesn’t it, Dad.” Aizawa was all, “for the one and a half people out there who thought that my losing an eye and a leg might actually make me less sexy, I’m very happy to prove you wrong.” All Might was all, “[standing outside the U.A. fortress alone in the rain talking to someone or something??].” Like seriously, what was up with that though.

Today on BnHA: All Might is all “here I am in Kamino having a belated mid-life crisis because Deku abandoned me and I’m a terrible mentor and everything sucks and I hate myself.” Stain is all, “don’t make me come over there and give you a ten page speech about why you’re still the goat while menacingly holding you at swordpoint the entire time” because idk if you knew this guys, but Stain is pretty crazy actually. Anyway so he does that, and then All Might gets all emotional, and then the lady from chapter 92 shows up and gives All Might’s statue an encouraging pep talk, and then Horikoshi is all “and it even stopped raining lol can you believe this shit I’m not even a little bit subtle,” and he really isn’t. But I still got emotional anyway, because seeing people reassure All Might that everything he’s struggled for his entire life hasn’t been in vain just got to me okay. Horikoshi knows I am weak to the All Might feels and he just goes for the jugular every time, that bastard.

lmao. “in the neverending downpour, All Might is...” yeah, thank you, glad we’re getting right to that then

“All Might is driving 95 mph in his busted ass car in the pouring rain, is what he’s doing.” huh

so basically a day or two after his adopted child refused to accept the handmade bento that he packed with love, my man is out here acting like he’s got nothing to live for anymore. this sure bodes well for certain prophecies on which the clock is still ominously ticking down

his fucking face though omg. is it weird that I’m kind of hoping more people ambush him just because I think it’d be funny to see them get their asses kicked like the last bunch

(ETA: or maybe he will just stand there openly not giving a fuck and basically daring them to stab him!! get it together please All Might.)

side note, “anti-hero supporters” is such a strange way of saying “people who hate heroes”, which I’m assuming is what they actually wanted to say?? this makes it sound like it’s a group that really loves antiheroes. “these Hannibal stans have been a real menace lately. time to go deal with them”

ha ha ha, fucking ouch

are you really gonna do it Horikoshi you bastard. are you really going to let that be the final encounter between the two characters whose relationship you once described as the vertical axis of the entire fucking story. are you really gonna?? huh??

huh

you’re telling me you were driving 112 mph and you still didn’t get there in time. you’re losing your touch old man. lol Todo’s ice is almost fully melted already, how late were you

(ETA: so apparently this is taking place after the end of chapter 325, meaning he went to U.A., hung out for a bit, saw the kids come back with his bedraggled half-dead protégé in tow, watched as they shamed the civilians into some long-overdue character development, and then was all “welp, time to go argue with the hero-hating faction or something because I’m feeling useless.” and Edge just let him go, just like that. though to be fair I have to imagine it’s pretty hard to say no to All Fucking Might.)

also belated lol at the fact that the kids were all “yeahhhhhhh we are definitely not gonna touch that thing, let’s just leave it here, he doesn’t need it anyway.” probably the right call to make since they couldn’t get a hazmat team on such short notice

fuck. ha ha ha fucking ouch part two

All Might please put that thing down before you get gangrene. also yeah, you dropped the ball, good for you to acknowledge it. nobody’s perfect and you did your best. but yeah you could have handled a lot of things completely differently. but I still love you

is Horikoshi really putting this flashback here. are you serious. what kind of fucking sadist

look, I swear I’m not one of those people that runs up and down the street shouting “DEATH FLAG!!” at every third panel lol. but this shit screamed Death Flag when we originally got it, and it’s screaming DEATH FLAG!!! even more now. like with the capital letters and exclamation marks and all. and that’s just a fact. I don’t like it but that’s how it is

ffkdjslk

“DID YOU READ THE SIGN??!” Horikoshi asks while zooming in maniacally because he thinks we’re blind or something. lol what

-- though actually, it only just occurred to me that this sign is actually written in English. I never really paid attention up until now and had been assuming it was written in Japanese and translated by the scanlators, but the writing here is clearly part of the original image. anyway so maybe that’s why he’s zooming in?? just to make sure everybody pays attention lol

okay fuck this

see, this is the whole problem right here. once again All Might is all on his own. Deku’s self-destructive angst spiral was fortunately brought to a grinding halt because he actually has support from his friends and family and teachers and classmates. but All Might never had that same kind of support, and it’s made all the difference between the two of them, and not in a good way. Katsuki wasn’t wrong when he said All Might and Deku were both cut from the same cloth. but now when it’s All Might’s turn to go all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD~~” once again, there’s nobody in sight

just, after forty plus years of him carrying this torch, I just wish someone would finally come along to let him know he doesn’t have to. all those things that he wanted to say to Deku are also things that he needs and deserves to hear himself. Aizawa was making a little progress there, but now he’s got his sad zombie cloud boyfriend situation to deal with, and we can’t expect him and his perfect hair to solve all our problems. someone else has gotta step up

oh my god

“you rang?” never mind I take it all back sob

omg why am I laughing. shit

this man truly has the best PR game in the series. we were truly convinced he was gonna suddenly become a good guy and defend All Might against the other villains or some nonsense. as if this wasn’t the same man who decided on a whim that Iida Tensei deserved to be paralyzed, and that his fifteen-year-old brother deserved to die for daring to be upset about it

lol even All Might is all “I genuinely never saw this coming” lmao

just want to say, for the record, I have always harbored a very sensible hatred toward Stain. feeling very vindicated right now. good job Past Me

adsfklwkfsdwgkj

ffffwefjslkg. ghsdlkg. dsfkkkslkjldwkjrg

STAIN: heard you talking shit old man

ME: smh that’s what I thought you’d say you dumb fucking Stain

STAIN: how dare you talk about All Might that way

ME: gljfljgk

(ETA: in hindsight I have no idea how I didn’t clue in sooner that he didn’t recognize him -- or, well, ~didn’t recognize~ him, to be more accurate lol. I think it was the whole “is that a slight against the heroes?” thing that threw me. Viz’s translation makes it much clearer that he’s offended on behalf of All Might specifically, not heroes in general. anyways.)

sob. so All Might is all “yeah I don’t blame you for not recognizing me in this sweet leather jacket”

good thing he still knows how to do this party trick

A+ reflexes on Stain’s part presumably pulling the sword back a few inches to keep this dumbass from impaling himself with his whole pufferfish routine. can you imagine if that was the gruesome death Nighteye foresaw. and he was just too embarrassed to say anything

lol anyways guess I was wrong about Stain everyone

way to fucking go, Past Me. you really biffed this one

oh wait

Stain sure is one wacky rollercoaster ride

oh fuck me lol I forgot how much I did not miss this

(ETA: “this here is the sacred ground where All Might gave up the last of his power and turned into a shriveled old man!! please ignore the part where I admit to knowing all about that, and yet pretend not to recognize said man when he’s standing two feet in front of me.”)

Past Me, I know we’ve had our ups and downs these past ninety seconds, but I’m really starting to think you were on to something. this dude has always been kind of insufferable. always acting like his high horse is a fucking giraffe when it’s actually a Shetland pony

dammit now he’s got All Might going off on a depressed monologue

oh my god my heart

shit

why the fuck does that hit so hard. he became a hero because he couldn’t bear to just sit back and let bad things happen to people who didn’t deserve it. I mean that’s basically the same as every hero ever, right? so why does it still hit so fucking hard every single time though. what is it about seeing someone so determined to stand up for other people and fight on their behalf. it just never loses its impact no matter how many times I see that determination mirrored in so many of my favorite characters

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” omg. but you did, though. like seriously, I feel like people are always dogging on him for not being 100% perfect, and fandom really doesn’t give him enough credit for everything he still managed to accomplish. this man came of age at a time when Japan was by all accounts a total shitshow, and singlehandedly managed to bring about an era of peace that lasted for four fucking decades. can you imagine having peace for that long?? that’s longer than I’ve been alive. shit

and he gave people hope. he inspired them and protected them and made them feel safe. and no, he couldn’t save everyone, because he’s only one fucking dude (and also because the whole time AFO was also out there desperately working to undermine him so that he could keep preaching his narrative of “heroes are bad actually”). but you know what he did do, is inspire multiple new generations of heroes who, if they can all manage to work together, will finally be able to accomplish everything he never could

so yeah. forty years of peace, and inspired the “that’s how we all became the greatest heroes” generation -- that’s a fucking win in my book. talk about having a net positive impact on the world. lol anyways now I’m all fired up and ready to fight anyone who tries to talk any shit about you, All Might

“but what if I talk shit about myself” okay listen up All Might I’m gonna need you to try just a little bit harder to work with me here okay. please calm down and stop blaming yourself for every single bad thing that’s ever happened in the world. do you remember that time Bakugou was blaming himself for Kamino, and you gave him a hug and told him it wasn’t his fault, and that he was only a boy, and that even though he was strong, even strong people can struggle with the burdens they place on themselves, and that you were sorry for not seeing that earlier? do you remember all of that? that’s what I want someone to tell you too, dammit. anyway please stop breaking my heart please and thanks

wtf

are you dead All Might

um

I don’t even have the slightest idea what’s happening lol

oh snap did he grab him so they could hide??

hold the fucking phone. don’t tell me this person in the background with the umbrella is here to actually do something decent??

oh my godddd

and here come the feels. oh boy. okay don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here sobbing over this fictional lady and her simple act of kindness in this weekly shounen manga that I care about way too much

FUCKING DAMMIT AND HERE’S A SECOND HELPING

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST GETTING DISPROPORTIONATELY EMOTIONAL OVER THIS WOMAN’S DETERMINATION TO HONOR A MAN WHO SACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SAVE HER AND COUNTLESS OTHERS. I’M JUST HAVING SOME FEELS OVER HERE ABOUT HER HEARTFELT, DOESN’T-EVEN-KNOW-ANYONE-ELSE-IS-WATCHING FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE THAT COMPELLED HER TO COME OUT HERE AND MAKE THIS SMALL BUT POWERFUL GESTURE. I’M JUST OUT HERE GETTING ALL PROFOUNDLY WORKED UP ABOUT STATUE MAINTENANCE AND THE HUMAN RACE. NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE ME AND CARRY ON

holy shit. I was not even remotely prepared. you can’t just do that to me. you can’t just leave all these death flags on my lawn and then suddenly shift gears to show me the best of humanity in a chapter where I was expecting the worst. that fucks a person up lol

OH ARE WE STILL GOING

my heart. you see that, All Might. your legacy is so much more powerful and meaningful than you think

...has. has Stain actually been giving All Might a pep talk this entire time

I give up lol. this dude is a fucking enigma

YAYYY

it may just be a metaphor panel, but I’ll take it lol. I missed them. nice to see the traffic light trio front and off-center. I know the whole “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes” thing had left some questioning whether certain characters would continue to play a central role in the narrative, and hopefully this will help to ease those concerns just a bit

anyway, so idk if it’s getting a bit chilly down there in hell, but damned if Stain didn’t just give an actual decent fucking speech

I have to say, earlier when I was whining about All Might not having a support squad, I really was not expecting Stain to be the one to come over and pat his head and reassure him that he made the world a better place

-- okay LISTEN

YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO MY HOUSE AND HIT ME WITH THOSE ALL MIGHT TEARS AGAIN GODDAMMIT THIS ISN’T FAIR. my god. first 317 and now this

holy fucking shit

“I’m just gonna pretend like I haven’t been stalking him for two days and didn’t see the entire Deku bentogate thing go down, and then I’ll give him the whole big speech that I rehearsed, and then I’ll turn around and be all ‘BUT IF YOU’RE A TRUE HERO’, and then I’ll toss him the super-secret AFO wifi password that I stole from Tartarus. god I’m such a badass. fucking give myself chills”

so basically what you’re telling me is that this whole time my “what’s up kids” characterization of Stain from this shitpost has actually been 100% accurate. just want to make sure I’m understanding this right. okay then

“and then I’ll dramatically spin around and be all NOW COME KILL ME BITCH”

it must be so much fun to write Stain. drawing this coked-out maniac who talks like a chatbot that was trained to speak by reading Alan Moore monologues. that must be a trip

anyway so All Might is still crying, the awesome lady from chapter 92 is admiring her handiwork totally oblivious to the batshit insanity going on fifty meters to her right, and it’s finally stopped raining lol

“THE RAIN WAS A METAPHOR YOU SEE” yes, yes, we got it lol. thanks for that Horikoshi. don’t think we needed any help putting the pieces together on that one but I appreciate the effort

so that’s the end! and as I mentioned in another post, I had the count off by one chapter, but next week should be cliffhanger week! so break out your U.A. Traitor bingo cards, friends and fiends. either that or something else happens that I’m completely not expecting at all. which, based on my success rate with Stain predictions, I’d say is more than likely lol

mmm but anyway, so now that the Hug Deku 2021 campaign has finally come to an end, what’s it gonna take to get a hug for my struggling bento-preparing jacket-rocking world-weary death-flag-waving husband who is the worthiest man to ever live and deserves the fucking world, goddammit

[1-800-roflmao]

Mercy ||

Prompt: Glass

Fandom: Squid Game

Pairing: Deer VIP X Waitress!Reader

You know what has a focus on glass at one point?  Squid Game.  I’m not sure any of my OCs would actually enter a death game and while Chaos would just for fun <cause the lil shit can’t die>, I feel that would be cheating.  So, just gonna write a reader insert waitress in the VIP room.  Inspired by people discussing possible loopholes.

While writing this, I got inspired to jot down another idea. It involves those painted naked peeps in VIP room. Also, i so badly want to write Deer VIP smut lol. Anyway...

Suggestive, Dubious Consent, Power Dynamics, Dom/Sub elements, Casual Discussion of Death Games

The matte black mask fit snugly over her face and the skirt, blouse, and vest she had been given to wear felt like it had been tailored to hug her figure perfectly.  Considering the scale and reach of this organization, she didn’t doubt they had the finances or connections to somehow know her  measurements without ever having to touch her.  Sheer stockings and black heels finished off the look before she stepped out of her assigned room right as the countdown finished.  

Others in similar attire, mostly male she noted, stood beside their closed doors as well as head counts commenced.  Not long ago, she had been a mere worker.  A manager had pulled her out of line the day before and informed her of her position change.  It was not optional.  She’d been put through an impromptu and rushed training alongside a few other former workers.  

She almost missed the bright pink jumpsuit and encompassing mask marked with a circle.  Her current attire showed much more skin and her silhouette then she became accustomed to.  She resisted tugging the hem of her skirt down further.  It was also jarring to be able to see other’s eyes again.  A waiter across from her stood at attention just like her, eyes forward and unfocused, but for a moment, their eyes locked.  Before this experience, something like this would not seem so strange, nor breaking contact would be so difficult.

“Headcount Completed.”

The robotic drone of the woman’s voice broke the spell and they both turned in a practiced about face.  Strangers once again as they fell into step behind their fellow waiters and waitresses as a soldier escorted them to a grand hallway.  They stood in neat files and bowed as five figures in glittering gold masks walked down the gauntlet.  The VIPS were here to witness the fifth game live and they were to serve.  

She thanked whatever god was looking out for her the next day when she was assigned a tray with hors d'oeuvres.  It seemed the waiters were given the liquor, while the waitresses were assigned food, cigars, and cigarettes.  

The VIP room had not been what she expected.  It could best be described as a modern art piece.   There was a personalized island for each VIP and some were… quite the statement.  Were those statues or actually painted human beings?  They were so eerily still and she wouldn’t doubt the possibility it was just dead contestants they had saved and painted for decoration.

The Front Man was a figure she had not met before now.  His presence, how he held himself, spoke power, control, and confidence.  He commanded the room despite the VIPs being anything, but polite and patient.  She found herself focusing on the even timbre of his modulated voice as she walked about the room with practiced steps.  Her training paying off as she served the VIPs  with precision while he explained the game.

It was a cruel game, but it delighted and appeased the VIPs.  The players had to cross a suspended glass bridge. She spared a glance to the model on the floor.  Sixteen pairs of squared glass panels made up the bridge, spaced out, and only one of each pair was safe to jump and stand on.  There were sixteen contestants left…  That meant technically the last player in line had the best chance to cross successfully.  She pitied the player who has to cross first.  

Everything was relatively peaceful and she’d had to refill her tray twice.  The tiger and lion were quite the gluttons, but she didn’t miss how he seemed focused on a particular waiter.  Honestly, she was thankful.  The VIPs entertained themselves with bets and taunting, and once the game officially started, curtains drew back to reveal a large glass window.  On the other side, the players could be seen stepping onto the starting room.  The VIP room’s lights dimmed and for once they were quiet for just a moment.  

That was broken by the tiger as his betted number turned out to be the first in line to try crossing.  He had already been irate since his previous bet had hung himself before the game even started.  Laughter at his expense filled the room and the ones in golden masks teased and taunted.  

It went on for a while like this.  Standing at her post, serving when called upon, and when she was not needed, she would stare at the game taking place.  She mulled over the possible solutions and loopholes.  Possibly something less brutal than simply using the fifteen other players as fodder.    

Snapping caught her attention and she looked over from where she stood to scope the room.  It was the rotund VIP in the tiger mask.  Luckily, he was flagging down a waiter, not her.  That same waiter he had been focused on all day.  She felt bad for him as he was now being forced to sit beside the man and serve only him.  

Before she could turn back, a deep rumble of a voice called, “Waitress.”  Only one VIP had that unique accent and octave: the deer.  A quick peek and once she looked at him, he was waving her over.  Silent and with practiced grace, she made her over and lowered her tray in offering.  He surprised her by showing her his palm.  He didn’t want any food?  

“Sir?” Then why… his chuckle had eyes darting up to meet his.  His eyes flicked down and she followed the direction to where his hand was patting his thigh.  Oh…

“Smart girl,” he praised, patting his thigh more firmly.  The clap of his palm against the muscle there seemed to ring through the vip room.  It was probably just her heart pounding.  “It’s only fair.”  Right, precedent had already been established.  She couldn’t argue.  A waiter relieved her of her tray and taking a breath, she turned and carefully seated herself on his offered thigh.  The taunts and whistles from the other VIPs did not help her relax one bit.

A large hand smoothed up her thigh and to her hip, fingers catching on the hem of her skirt.  Her breath caught for just a moment before exhaling as the fabric snapped back into place.  She just barely heard his snicker at her expense before she was pulled back suddenly.  His arm braced over her waist and forced her to settle completely in his lap, back to chest, and his chin nestled on her shoulder with a pleased hum, “Relax… I’m not nearly as starved as that fool tiger.”  

“Apologies, Sir,” she whispered.  He was remarkably patient as she took a few breaths, eyes closed.  She felt more than heard his approving hum.  The sound seeming to vibrate against her back from his chest as she slumped against him finally.  He gave no further orders, simply holding her in his lap, and staring ahead at the game unfolding.  The longer she sat there, the more her muscles loosened, but her awareness of him never dipped.  

No, she seemed hyper focused on each bulge and twitch of muscle against her.  The stubble of his chin prickling and brushing the naked skin of her neck each time he commented or chatted with the other VIPs.  She was painfully aware of his hand that had settled back on his thigh.  His warm palm and fingers squeezing and caressing thoughtlessly and every now and then, his fingers would curl and drag his nails against the netting of her stockings.  At first, it was just nerve wracking, but the consistent motion and his fingertips just barely teasing her skirt’s hem, was having an unexpected and unwanted(?) affect.     

To distract herself, she looked at the game and once again tried to figure out loopholes.  So many players had already died, but their deaths revealed the correct path.  Positive for those left.  She squinted.  The innermost red beams seemed to be- 

Her trail of thought was cut off by a hand entering her vision and tapping her mask with a single digit right where her nose would be.  “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind, dear?  I can see the gears in that pretty head turning,” he inquired, having sat up to whisper right into her ear.  A shiver, unbidden, had goosebumps rising on her flesh from his warm breath and lips brushing the shell of her ear. 

“I…” she paused to swallow and wet her mouth, sparing a glance to the front man.  He wasn’t paying her any mind.  “I was just pondering other ways the players could beat this challenge,” she answered.  

He just hummed, one hand plucking at her pantyhose.  He would pinch the sheer fabric, pull, and then let it snap back into place.  Over and over he did this, while the other drummed against her other thigh.  “And what did you come up with?” 

Was he humoring her just because he was bored? She had not been allowed to speak this much in so long and she worried she would say something to displease the man behind her or the front man.  It was safer to be silent.  You lived that way.  A pinch brought her out of her mounting paranoia.  Her eyes darted down to her thigh where he had captured the fat of her thigh between two digits, “My patience is not endless, dear.”  

An apology spilled from her lips without further prompting.  The sharp pain he had inflicted was now being soothed by those same digits as he rubbed the reddening flesh.  “The red bars, specifically the innermost ones,” she started, “I think they are close enough to walk on.  So, a player could technically balance on the two and waddle down to the end.”  It was solid, she believed.  

“And if the player behind them pushes them?” he remarked.

“The players are always at risk of that no matter the plan.”  It was a sad reality of all these games that those around you could turn on you.  No, most likely would.  It was a battle royale, unless a team effort was needed.

“True…” he hummed, shifting so he was leaning against the arm of his sofa and she was dragged to lie with him.  “What about the sections covered with glass?  They will have to step on the glass and one panel will always break.”  His tone was casual, like they weren’t discussing a death game.  Like they weren’t sitting in a room watching as yet another player took their chance and ultimately fell to their death.

But his inquiry did have her thinking.  No matter if it was a small sliver of glass they were stepping on, they would have to while walking on the beams, and ultimately, one panel would break.  That would mean uneven footing and a chance at losing their balance, slipping.  The beams were far too thin to chance hopping over the glass.  She doubted any of these players were acrobats or outstandingly athletic.  “They would just have to hope to catch their footing,” she concluded.

It must have been funny to him as he laughed heartily.  All the while, he had her wrapped up in his arms, reminiscent of how one would hold a teddy bear.  “How cold,” he commented, laying what was exposed of his cheek from below the mask against her temple as she rested her own cheek against the sofa arm.  

“Simply realistic,” she retorted, a playful note managing to sneak into her voice.  Their conversation was interrupted as catcalls and whistles filled the room.  She didn’t look, but she felt him lift his head and shift to look.  He eventually settled back down, but this time, laying down completely and dragging her further down the cushions with him.  

The position they ended up in was… intimate.  Was that the best word?  He laid behind her, her form snug against him and skirt hiked and shirt untucked from the drag against the cushions, and her head resting on his arm, while he once again laid his cheek against her hair and temple.  It would have been innocuous if not for how he had hiked her leg up over his hip and slotted his thigh between her own. His hand once again explored and took advantage of newly exposed flesh.  It was difficult to focus with his fingers edging closer and closer to the apex of her thighs.  

“Mmm… by chance, can you think of one more loophole?” he suddenly inquired and she happily took the bait, anything to distract her from the heat pooling in her pelvis as his palms traced lines of fire.

“Like?” she pushed for a hint after a moment of thought.  

He tapped a finger against the bend of her knee before trailing his hand down her calf and to her ankle, skimming the edge of her heel.  She shivered at first and as he repeated the motion, tracing along her heel again before edging it off her foot completely.  His fingers felt wonderful massaging her sore soles and that’s when it hit her.

“Shoes!” she gasped, face heating as he snickered above her.  

“Clever girl.  I knew you’d get it,” he praised, not ceasing his ministrations on her feet, “What else?”

She lifted a hand to her masked mouth as if it would help muffle the relieved little sighs and hums spilling from her lips without permission. “They were only told to take off their shoes,” she continued, an embarrassingly disappointed noise breaking through when his hand leaves her foot to move back up her leg, “Nothing says they had to leave their shoes behind.”  

“Correct.”  She should despise the feeling of accomplishment and eager expectancy for him to do… something.  Had this place warped her mind?  She should not be looking forward to this man-stranger!-doing anything to her, but as he praised her, whispering right into her ear, she was fighting to keep from wiggling as another shiver rushed down her spine.  

“But…” she swallowed and took a breath, wanting to rip off her mask as it seemed to be getting increasingly more difficult to breathe in it.  Too warm.  “Are the shoes enough to even help?” she rambled, “They are too light to break the glass.”  Would any of the players even have the strength to put enough force behind a swing to break the glass?  

Looking up, she watched as two contestants fell.  The woman had purposely clung to the large man and dragged him down with her.  Commentary bounced around the room.  They called it a poetic death.  One VIP mentioned a woman’s fury and she deduced that male player must have done something awful to that female one.  Things settled again as they watched one player prove his worth.  He could tell the difference between the two types of glass.  That was put to a stop not long after as the VIPs considered this too easy and boring.  The last moments of teh game after that were brutal and had her come to one conclusion.

As fingers teased the band of her pantyhose, threatening to dip underneath and at thsi point, she found she would welcome the relief over the continuous teasing the deer masked man had made her endure.  “Sir?” she chimed before he could rob her of her thoughts and she loses her voice again when she has to leave this room.  He only hums to let her know he’s listening.  His fingers squeezing the pudge of her tummy before finally dipping under her pantyhose.  

“It wouldn’t matter what they did in the end.  If the people in charge of the game are unsatisfied with how the game is going, then actions would be taken to narrow their choices,” she managed to push out the words before burying her face into the crook of his arm, “There is no easy out when you’re at the one at mercy.”

Her words must have pleased him greatly as he finally stopped his teasing and growled out praise, or at least she hoped it was praise.  It was in a language she couldn’t understand.  Her curiosity of what he was saying was quickly drowned out by relief and pleasure as those talented fingers of his worked her.  Distantly, she remembered they were still in the VIP room and the Front Man was still there; maybe she was just just touch starved, mind twisted in this place, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.  She was the one at their mercy.  What did it matter?

NEXT

[thighs-of-betrayal-blog]

Hey! Love your writing!

Can I request Hydra or Flagsmashers or bounty hunters or just any bad guys really and they are going to take or kill the reader and Bucky tells them “take me instead”...Do what you want from there haha

The Most Important Thing

A/N: Protective Bucky is everything. That's all I have to say. But, thank you so much for the kind words and request! I hope you enjoy :)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Reader

Warnings: angst/fluff, violence, weapons, cursing

From the beginning, you knew the mission was going to go south. Not only was there not a lot of intel available to gather beforehand, but it’s Hydra you were going up against. Hydra was not known to be easily taken down.

“Y/N, what’s your status?” Steve asks, voice coming through your earpiece.

“I’m in the west corridor. Heading towards the panel room now,” you reply. Following orders, you head towards the room to turn off the electricity. The plan was to get in and save the hostages. With the electricity turned off, it’ll be easier to get to them.

“I’m on my way towards you, doll,” Bucky says. You shake your head and chuckle, choosing not to answer. It wasn’t a surprise that Bucky was close behind you. He was like this on every mission you went on, overly protective.

Inside the room, you immediately spot the breaker box and run up towards it.

“I’m at the box,” you announce. “And…” You flip the switch, causing the entire building to go dark. “Bingo.”

“Great work, kid,” Tony says. You hated being called “kid” and Tony knew it; he only called you it to annoy you. Rolling your eyes, you navigate through the now dark room, on your way to help with retrieving the hostages.

Bumping into a body, you are about to scream, before a hand clamps down on your mouth.

“Shh, doll, it’s just me,” Bucky says.

After he removes his hand, you punch him in the arm.

“Ow, what is that for?” he asks.

“For scaring the shit out of me,” you say seriously. “I thought you were Hydra.”

“Sorry, I guess I didn’t think that one through.”

“Ya think?”

Grabbing his hand, you pull him out of the room.

“Alright, guys. Finish up your lovers’ quarrel and get your asses up here,” Tony says.

“We’re on our way,” you reply.

As the both of you head down the hallway and turn the corner, you’re stopped by four Hydra soldiers.

“Drop your weapons and put your hands up!” they yell.

Bucky grabs your arm and pulls you behind him, using his body to protect yours.

“I said drop your weapons!” the one soldier yells again.

“Okay, okay,” Bucky says. He turns to you and motions for you to lower your gun to the floor, as he does the same with his. You both raise your hands in surrender.

Two of the soldiers grab Bucky, yanking him down the hall, while the remaining two grab you. Your earpiece is pulled out of your ear, cutting off all communication with the others.

Bucky looks back at you, panic in his eyes. “I love you,” he mouths to you.

“I love you too,” you mouth back.

Bucky turns his head back around and while walking you stare at his metal arm, watching the one soldier hold it back in captivity, ensuring it can’t be used.

---

The soldiers lead you to a secluded room, where you’re both chained up against the wall. Another soldier walks into the room and introduces himself as Leon. “What a pleasant surprise this is,” he says.

Leon walks up to Bucky, running his fingers down his metal arm. “The Winter Soldier,” he mutters. He looks over at you. “And, what do we have here?”

Stepping in front of you, he looks you over.

“Leave them out of this,” Bucky says.

“Oh?” Leon says. “The Winter Soldier cares about someone? How interesting.”

“He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore,” you spit out.

Bucky pulls against the restraints. “You leave them the fuck alone!” he yells.

Leon releases your chains before instantly putting handcuffs over your wrists. “I don’t think I will,” he says, as he pulls you towards the door.

“No!” Bucky yells. “Take me! Take me instead!” He struggles to get his hands out of the chains. “It’s me you want anyway! I’ll do anything you want! Just please, let them go.”

Tears build up in your eyes. “Buck…”

Bucky looks at you, eyes wide. “Y/N, I won’t let them take you.” He yanks against the chains again, causing him to jolt forward before falling backwards against the wall. “You’re not going to take them! Take me!”

Leon kicks the door open, dragging you with him. “I’d say I’m sorry, but that would be…”

A blast knocks into Leon, shooting him onto the floor.

“A lie? Is that what you were going to say? How mediocre,” Tony says, as he shoots another blast into him.

Arms wrap around you and you turn to see Wanda. She steadies you before bending down to break the handcuffs off your wrists.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Better now that you’re here,” you reply. You stand up and brush your hands on your pants. “Thanks.”

“Of course, Y/N. You know I’ve always got your back.” Wanda looks behind you and nods. “Looks like my cue to leave.”

Turning around, you see Bucky walking towards you.

“Talk later?” you ask Wanda.

She grabs your hands. “Of course.”

While watching her walk away, you feel a pair of arms slip around your waist. Bucky lays his head in the crook of your neck and sighs.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, doll.”

You turn around and fall into his chest, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

“Please,” you say. “Don’t you ever sacrifice yourself for me. You’ve been through enough.”

Bucky tilts your head up. “I’d do anything to keep you safe. Even if that means being a weapon for Hydra again.” He leans in, face inches away from yours. “Making sure you’re healthy and happy is the most important thing to me. You are and always will be, my number one priority.”

“You will never be a weapon ever again. I won’t allow it.” You close the gap between the two of you and kiss him. “We’ll keep each other safe.”

Smiling, Bucky leans in again to give you a quick kiss before grabbing your hand.

“C’mon, let’s get to the quinjet and help with those hostages. Then afterwards, when we get back, maybe we can have a movie night? With pizza?”

“That sounds perfect. I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you say, smiling back at him.

“It’s like I’m watching a soap opera,” Tony says, watching you and Bucky from a few feet away.

Wanda slaps his back.

“Ow,” he says.

Wanda shakes her head. “Let’s go, old man.”

All of you make your way to the quinjet, where you sit with Bucky in the back, head resting on his shoulder the whole ride home.

[dragonsorceress22]

Fall Into Flying is 189k not counting the sequels so i have to ask... what was the *one scene* that spawned all that?

Aaaah thank you so much for asking~! ✨

It was chapter seven - the Mariner's Sorrow heist. I was just really really eager to shoot KID LMFAO

There are a few fics that have posting dates prior to Fall into Flying (Pure Hearts and Lovesick off the top of my head) but chapter seven of Fall into Flying is actually the first kaishin - the first DCMK anything - I ever wrote. It's the scene that started it all 💖

I'll add an even more narrowed down snippet below the break - the brainworm that the rest of the chapter, then the rest of the fic, was built around : )

The worst part of it was that it had caught him blind and completely unawares. The pain and the sound had been simultaneous, the shot loud, leaving his ears ringing badly enough that he couldn’t hear anything else, and for just a moment he thought it was the sound itself that had ripped into him – blazed through him – and not the bullet. His eyes flinched closed and he turned badly, and he knew it was bad, but he couldn’t stop it. A corner of the glider dipped and he plummeted down out of the smoke.

It took more strength than it should have to pry his eyes open again and right himself, just barely catching a good draft that he could use between the tall buildings, and putting all of his attention toward getting away. He had no idea if the sleep gas had taken effect. He had no idea if the sniper was taking aim again to put him down once and for all. He just flew – as far and as fast as he could away from that building.

His feet stuttered against the ribbed roof of a warehouse a few blocks away, his landing sloppy and uncontrolled. When he deactivated the glider, the wind dropped him and he fell to his hands and knees, gasping through the pain in his side.

A moment’s pause was all he allowed himself. Then he was back on his feet and stalking shakily over to a nearby skylight. His hands fumbled with his tools as he weakened the seal and removed the dirty panel, leaving a wide hole in the ceiling of the warehouse. Then, sucking in a breath, he braced himself and grabbed the edge of the roof before dropping down inside to hang from the edge of the skylight. There was a wide rafter beam just in front of him, a few feet over from where he was dangling, and he swung carefully, building the momentum that would help him reach it. At the peak of his last swing, he let go and landed lightly on the beam before dropping heavily to one knee, just barely keeping his balance. His hand had automatically moved to cover the bullet hole just under his ribs and some part of him was almost afraid to move it – like he could somehow hold himself together as long as he kept it there.

KID sucked in another sharp breath, shaking the unhelpful thought away, and brought both hands down on the edges of the metal beam, steadying himself as he moved toward the wall, leaving streaks of blood as he went.

When he reached the end of the beam he turned carefully and sank back against the wall, his breath coming in sharp, ragged hitches. He couldn’t stop his left hand from coming around again to clutch at the wound, but his right was digging into his pockets to extract a small bottle and a handkerchief. He knew he was losing blood fast. He knew he was probably in some degree of shock if the shivering was any indication. He knew the pain was about to get a whole lot worse, but he wrenched his shaking fingers away from his body anyway and unscrewed the top of the bottle, releasing a smell almost like alcohol.

Taking one last deep breath, he brought the mouth of the bottle close over his injured side and tipped it gently. A clear liquid splashed over and into the wound and his head snapped back, banging solidly against the wall despite the now crumpled brim of his hat, but he did not make a sound. For a few brief moments his shivering was escalated to more intense tremors before he reigned them in, quickly pouring just a little more of the solution over the wound before he let out a harsh breath and tried to relax.

With the last of the liquid in the bottle, he soaked the handkerchief and pressed it firmly to his side, holding it there as he tucked the empty bottle away again. As he did, his fingers brushed against the Mariner’s Sorrow – a silver cuff set with a large faceted sapphire – nestled away in a pocket, and he let out a small sigh. At least he'd managed to steal it before everything had gone wrong.

KID’s head tipped back against the wall, gently this time, and he allowed his eyes to close as he pressed the handkerchief more firmly to his wound. He’d been shot before, and he’d had enough close calls to tell him he needed something that would increase his chances if he ever got caught in a bad situation without any help to be had. It wasn’t ideal, and he had hoped to never need it, but the liquid – a fun mix of chemicals he’d come up with for just such an occasion – would numb the pain and slow the bleeding until part two of his preparations could come to fruition.

KID forced open heavy eyelids and glanced around the ceiling without moving his head. There were doves on the rafters around him, all lined up and watching him, and he stopped a small laugh before it could start. They knew what they were seeing. He’d trained them to know what blood was and what blood meant and there was a lot of blood happening right now and all he could think as he watched one of the birds fly off through the displaced skylight was that he was proud of them for remembering their training.

And then his eyes slipped closed.

...I can't believe there is not one single line of dialogue in this. LOL But yes! Whump is life! From day 1 it was my goal to be meanest to my favorite characters. (And when I started writing for DCMK I honestly thought Kaito was my favorite. By the end of Fall into Flying, I'd learned that Shinichi is actually my number 1 lol go figure!)

Anyway thank you again so, so much for asking~! 💕 I... clearly enjoy talking about this way too much ^.^;

[that-one-weeb-but-starwars]

Hi! I was wondering if you could please write something along the lines of a Bad Batch reader with Hunter, where the reader and him have an established relationship. Basically she’s always known she wants children with Hunter but she’s afraid to bring up the subject too him. Maybe he notices her long stares when he interacts with Omega. Whenever the reader sees the two together it warms her heart and she thinks about how wonderful he is with Omega and can’t help but imagine how great he would be with a child of their own. One day he questions her about what’s on her mind and they talk it out. Thanks!

MY HEART-

AHAHHAHAHHAHAHA

Anyways: I should start running my stuff through grammerly-

Reader: Female

Warning: none, well- they take about the act never commit it- so like you gotta be 16 to make an account anyways on here so I dont think its a problem

To My Future Child| Hunter

"Morin..." Hunter groaned softly, pulling Y/n closer to him in the bunk.

"Mhmm..." Y/n hummed as she slept still.

Hunter yawned raking a hand through his hair as he sat up, leaning over he kissed her temple.

"Come on Cyare..." Hunter whispered softly, kissing her neck softly.

"Im good." Y/n spoke covering her face with the covers.

Hunter chuckled as he started getting out of bed, Omega up before him and carefully making her way into the room.

"Omega?" Hunter questioned softly, "what are you doing up so early?"

"I uh made you caff, since you made me hot coco yesterday."

Hunter chuckled, "lets go have moring drinks together then."

Omega smiled happily as Hunter got up, but left a kiss on Y/n's head before leaving as he left with Omega.

Once they left Y/n turned around looking at the closed door, sitting up she ran a hand through her hair yawning she rubbed her eye as she started getting out of bed.

She seen Wrecker, Echo and Crosshair fast asleep on there bunks. She walked from the bunks to the back of the ship, where Tech slept slumped over Gonky the droid, an invention hanging onto the corner for dear life. She took it off and set it on a control panel, looping an arm under Tech's he moaned in annoyance as she put her other arm under his legs, picking him up, gear and all and carried him to the bunks, laying him down and covering him with a blanket as he curled up in the covers.

Y/n walked back to the back of the ship, pouring her own cup of tea as she walked towards the front of the ship, seeing the door open and the ramp down Y/n looked out, the sun barely starting to rise as Omega and Hunter sat on a near by log, there backs to the ship as the two enjoyed each others company.

Y/n smiled as she watched them, it brought up the idea of her having her own children with Hunter of course, she'd gladly adopt Omega and would be happy to adopt a few more kids. But Y/n would be happy to concieve the kids herself as well. No matter there orgin they'd all be loved the same.

Hunter must've felt her staring because he looked back, Omega looking back with him as they both waved. Y/n smiled and waved in return.

"Morin-"

"Holy shit-" Y/n spoke as Echo had waken up, his head now on her shoulder as he slowly started to fall back to sleep.

Omega only giggled as Y/n sighed the reg falling back to sleep standing up and leaning on her.

She had to admit she had a hand full with grown clones that were barely the age of teenagers.

"Come on back to bed." Y/n told him as she set her tea down, helping Echo back to bed.

"No. Im up. Im up," Echo told her drowsiness dripping from his voice as Y/n helped him back to the bed, "okay...maybe another hour..."

Y/n chuckled as Echo rolled over and went back to bed.

"Thanks fives..."

Y/n smiled, "No problem."

So maybe Y/n had a lot on her hands with the brothers, but it only made her mind drift off again as she sat at the edge of Echo's bunk, making sure the clone stayed asleep.

Sure she had become someone motherly to them, but her own children would just be diffrent, teaching them how to walk, how to talk, it would just be a completely different expirence.

Y/n stood back up, going to return to her tea, taking one last look outside Omega and Hunter sat togetger enjoying the sun rise.

Y/n went to work, trying to distract her mind. The others getting up about an hour later telling her good morings and setting cups where she works, by the time everyone was up she had five diffrent cups of tea beside her, three of them empty, but it had become a habit each of them bringing her a whole diffrent cup rather than just refilling the cup, but everytime she drank every cup of tea, taking her brake as she cleaned the cups and returned them back to the hidden cupboard.

Hunter came over to her mid day, kissing her head she smiled, "Im gonna go help Omega with some combat trainnin Cyare." He told her as she smiled and hummed an okay, as she turned her head pecking his lips softly.

"Stay safe."

"Only for you."

She smiled watching him leave, soon after Crosshair coming up to her, asking if they were modifying and fixing weapons outisde together still as she nodded, collecting Tech, Echo, and Wreckers weapons and they made there way outside.

Crosshair didn't talk much, and that didn't change due to Y/n, but he enjoyed another body around him, maybe just her's the most because she radiated warmth.

They set up on some crates, the two then sitting on smaller ones making there own make shift tables and benches as they started.

Crosshair put his headphones on as he started working, drowning out everyone else. Y/n listened to the sounds of nature, but those calmong chirps and buzzes were cut short but the sound of laughter.

"Omega!" Hunter shouted as the girl screamed running away in a laughing fit.

Y/n watched as the girl came running back covered in some mud, Hunter completely covered in mud.

"Get back here!"

Omega ran past Y/n as Hunter was starting to catch up to her, picking her up in a hug and covering Omega in mud she squealed attempting to get out his grip. Y/n smiled as she watched Hunter laugh with the blonde girl as she slipped out his grip and went running again.

Hunter only went after the girl happily as they disappeared down the folliage covered hill, but soon came back up and with an Omega in tears, a large cut on her arm as Hunter held her.

"It'll be okay." Hunter told her as Omega hid her tear stained face in Hunter's neck.

"Y/n. Perfect. Cyare can you run and get me the med kit?" Hunter spoke as he walked over to a seperate set of crates.

"Yeah." Y/n spoke rushing inside to get said med kit, after finding a full one she walked back out, Omega's tears being wipped away by Hunter.

"You're gonna be okay kid." Hunter told her as Omega sniffled.

"A-am I gonna need stiches?"

"No." Hunter told her with a small smile, "No needles. I promise."

Y/n smiled as she handed Hunter the med kit.

"Thanks."

Y/n returned to her original spot to return to work, but her attention onlu drew back to the two.

Hunter spent time pampering Omega's wound, making sure to wrap the gauze snug enough, but not too tight. Both failed and successful attempts of making her laugh away the tears that fell down her cheeks. Hunter finishing with a soft kiss to Omega's temple.

"You can go back to the Tooka's and porgs we seen, I'll be back down after putting this med kit away."

Omega nodded as she got up, carefully making her way back to there now all secret hiding spot.

Hunter turned his head catching Y/n turning her head quickly back to her work. Hunter returned the kit and kissed Y/n on the head before leaving again as she worked.

She watched him walk away and off, and once far gone she sighed and her mind wandered again.

Hunter holding there child in arms, after helping them through an injury, stroking there head as he told them everything would be alright.

She soon frowned, he had enough on his hands with Omega. In the very first place Hunter didn't even want to get Omega, he thought about leaving her with Cut and Su, she able to have a normal childs life.

Y/n looked down at the weapon infront of jer as she toyed with some parts.

"Are you okay?"

She looked up seeing Crosshair removing his headphones.

"Yeah." Y/n responded, "I think. Just a bit tired is all."

He nodded and went back to work, fixing up his scope as Y/n got up and went into the ship, returning the guns she had finished to the boys.

"Are you okay?" Echo asked her, "you seem lost."

"Yeah. I think I just need a nap." Y/n laughed it off as Echo nodded returning to his repairs.

Y/n returning to her shared bunk as she laid down, maybe some sleep was in order, maybe it was the stress that washed over her, asking Hunter to have a child? To start a family? She was more afraid of rejection than anything, maybe the idea of a family Hunter didn't like and it turned off a switch completely within him, him in the end dumping her.

"Hey is Y/n okay?" She heard Wrecker asked.

"Just tired, she's been at it all day. Let her rest." Echo told him, "we all know mid nights she gets up and starts working."

Y/n sighed silently, putting herself to sleep was the best option, and soon enough she drifted off. Her dreams being filled with the idea of her and hunter with a little one, running around, or teaching the little one how to pet a loth cat properly, simple things.

Of course it didn't last long, "I dont wanna wake her up you cook."

"Last time I cooked I burnt it."

"How did you burn soup?"

"I don't know."

"Crosshair you watch her alot, you cook"

"You want to be poisoned?"

"Fair point. I'll cook."

"Tech. No. Remember last time."

"That wasnt my fault"

"You cooked it was your fault."

Y/n sat up in her bunk.

"Great you woke her up!" Wrecker agrued.

Y/n rubbed her eyes yawning, as she got out of thr bunk.

"Whats the problem now?"

"Uh..."

The boys looked at one another not wanting to take the blame.

"Excuse me Yn." Omega spoke grabbing her hand, "I hungry. Can you help me make some food. Please?"

Y/n smiled, "you or the boys."

"All of us"

Y/n chuckled, "yeah Im assuming they went and grabbed whatever then."

"We caught the meat!" Wrecker spoke happily.

"Alright then. I suppose I'll go picking." Y/n smiled, taking off her top armor and grabbing her satchel.

"I'll come along." Hunter told.

"I'd love to go and study some more of these planets your always using." Tech spoke.

"Yeah sure." Y/n spoke.

"I'll come too."

"Me too!"

"Sure."

Hunter sighed, soon what he hopped to be time just with Y/n turned into a group activity, Crosshair stayed back at the ship, wanting to sleep as the others tagged along. Echo and Tech stayed near Y/n as she explained what she used in her medicanes, and in food. Wrecker with Omega in the flower feild as they sat together, Wrecker teaching Omega how to make flower crowns, Y/n had taught him how not to long ago.

Hunter watched the group from afar, he watched Y/n interact with his brothers, the two that bantered the most were attentive to her lesson, smiling as she had them try plants and helped them make small viles of concotions. He smiled, how beatiful she looked herbs surrounding her sitting form as she taught the boys, her hair up in a messy ponytail as she smiled.

Looking back at Omega his smiled only grew more, the little girl wearing a stack of crowns on her head as she intently worked on yet another crown, her tounage stuck out in focus as she she finshed yet another one. Happily smiling she lifted up into the air with a laugh as if it was the holiest object in the world. Wrecker smiled congratulating her loudly as she smiled. And sometime after Crosshair had opted out of his nap and joined them, Omega and Wrecker calling him over as he sat in the feild of flowers with them, but yet opted out again and ended up sleeping in the mass of flowers.

Turning back to look at Y/n she was red in the face, as she had been caught red handed and waved lightly, he raised a hand up in a wave as she turned her head back to the boys.

He frowned, lately, today especially. He had bern catching her staring, he knew he was beatiful- he laughed at his own ego. Yeah he wasnt beatiful in his eyes, but Yn? Y/n was jaw dropping gorgeous in his eyes. Hot as the suns, but as cool and mysterious as the moons was how'd he describe her.

He went back to picking at he thought, going through the list of names and drawn images for him to grab and he'd be sure to bring up the sudden stares to her.

Maybe he hadn't been pleasing her? Well- he hadn't been pleasing her, not in that way. Not for a long time, it was one of the reasons why he wanted to go with her alone, to pamper her with kisses as he laid her down in the feild of flowers, loving on her too much for public eyes. To tell her how much he truly loved her, to show her. To kiss her without a care in the world.

"Hey-"

"Woah-"

Y/n stopped as Hunter looked up at her, "you okay?" She asked.

He nodded, "sorry Cyare. Just...lost in some battle plan ideas." He lied

Y/n nodded, "You never do stop working."

He smiled at her smile as he stood up, "is. This enough?"

"Plenty. I got the boys into there nature side." Y/n commented on Echo and Tech, the two close and hunched over a book Y/n had given them. They pointing out a planet and walking over to pick some.

"If they become a good as medic as you. We'll be saved." Hunter told her as she chuckled.

The two happily watching the group have there fun, and relaxing for the first time in there hetic lives.

Hunter rubbed the back of his neck. Should he tell her?

"Y/n, can we uh talk?"

"Hmm?" Y/n asked turning her head to look at Hunter, "yeah whats up?"

"I. Have I done something wrong?" Hunter questioend, "I know we don't. We- Uh- we don't do alot of things like normal couples. I know I don't. Don't uh..."

"Whats wrong Hunter?" Y/n questioned.

His face became flustered, "well I know I don't pleasure you as you'd most likely like. I mean. I feel as Im depriving you of- uh-"

"Are you talking about Sex?" Y/n questioned.

"I was at first.." Hunter spoke feeling guilty for depriving her of something such as that, "But now. Talking to you more. I feel like I deprive you of everything and anythimg intimate."

"Hunter. I don't care about intimacy, its nice but I know you love me. And show it in your own way. And I'll always love you for that." Y/n told him with a smile.

"But you look so embarssed to look at me." Hunter explained, "What's happening? Im worried. I don't want to loose you."

Y/n looked away from him, "Im not embarssed about you."

"Then what?"

Y/n rubbed her arm, "I...Im scared..."

"Scared? Of what?" Hunter questioned, "Of me?"

"No- yes! No-"

She looked back at Hunter, hearing the uncertainty in her voice broke his heart and it showed through his carmel eyes, she was scared of him? He had never intentionally hurt her and if he did hurt her which was rare and usually accidently happened during training he was apologizing fiercly.

"Its complicated..." Y/n spoke.

"Then spell it out for me."

Y/n rubbed the back of her neck, "Its you and Omega...you're so attached, and loving towards her.."

This was about Omega? The small blonde girl? This was about a child?

This was about a child

Hunter listened intently, what had Omega done? But Omega was a child, and Omega wouldnt hurt anyone, especially not Y/n. Maybe it wasnt about Omega but more about Omega being a child.

"You're, so good with her," Y/n spoke, "I know its selfish, and I know I shouldn't even be having the idea in the first place,but..."

What? Get rid of Omega? That didn't seem like something Y/n would say, or even think about.

"What about me getting pregnant? Or. Maybe adopting?" Y/n finally spelt out.

Pregnant? Adopting? Another child?

"You want, to get pregnant?" Hunter spoke, his voice sounding harsh and blunt as he was in shock- was- was this conversation happening? Was he imagining it?

"Y-yeah..." Y/n spoke, "or. You know adopt..."

"By me?" Hunter questioned.

"Y-yeah..."

"You want me. Me," Hunter emphasized the me part, "to put a child in you."

"It's even more embarssing when you say it like that." Y/n told him.

Hunter tried to conatin himself, mini them running around, female or male they'd certainly reak havoc as they had throughout the galaxy.

"N-now?" Hunter questioned, his voice starting to crack with excitement.

"W-well soon...now that we have Crosshair back? We can settle down maybe?" Y/n questioned.

A little sister or brother to Omega, maybe a few brothers and sisters to Omega.

"Y-yes."

"Really?"

"Yes! Maker Yes!" Hunter spoke an outburst of happiness she had never seen from him before as he picked her up, "Im gonna be a dad! Wait- I don't know how to be a dad!-"

"We'll figure it out together!" Y/n smiled as he span her around, barely setting her down fast enough as he kissed her happily, she kissed back as he held her close.

[yanderedanganronpa]

Hello! I love your blog! May I request a yandere!Kokichi punishing his darling? Preferably female? Thank you!

Yandere Kokichi punishing his darling 

TW: kidnapping, name-calling, knife, restraints, burns

ty for the request and sorry it took so long!! I hope you like it and sorry if it was too much, lmk what you think :D

“Oh where has my darling s/o gone off to now?”

That was the only thing you heard between the thing wall that separated you and the man who has kept you captive for..you’ve lost count how long by now.

The taunting tone sending chills down your spine. You’d managed to escape the basement and found yourself in one of the many rooms of the house he kept you hidden away.

“If you wanted to play hide-and-seek you could’ve just asked me, y’know~”

You watch diligently through the panes of the closet door, as he scraped the large kitchen knife he wielded in his hand against the wall, making a harsh metallic sound as you cringed at the thought.

Brandishing a kitchen knife the glint of the knife catching your eye as he walked past.

You prayed in your head over and over

“Please, please, please, please don’t let him find me.”

Luckily enough he walked right past the dark closet which had you hidden inside.

You listened intensely until the door shut and hesitantly opened the wooden panel with shaky hands.

Stepping out of there, you had to get out of there quickly, it’s only a matter of time before he found you. Striding towards the door wondering to yourself if you should open it. After all you had no idea what could be outside, for all you know he could be waiting outside that very door with his knife.. shivering again.

Deciding to just do it before you back out, you slowly turn the knob, very slowly and peak out of the crack and it seems like there’s no sign of Kokichi, all you see is a dark hallway, you could barely see. He probably turned off the lights to mess with you, he knows you don’t know how to navigate.

You felt as if your feet couldn’t move but you forced yourself anyways, moving one after the other, stepping into the hall. Suddenly the adrenaline kicked in, you were escaping, you’re gonna be free, finally free away from this hell-hole. As if your feet were moving on their own they carried you far you had no idea where you were going, you went inside the first room you saw, hoping to find anything to help, a window or something, anything.

You swung the door open, thank god it was unlocked, you breathed a sigh of relief. Scanning the room side to side upon entry, a small dark room a little crowded with boxes seemed to be a storage room.

Your ears perked up at the distant sound of footsteps. As the noise grew closer it followed with a soft humming of a cheerful tune, it sounded like it was heading straight in your direction. You had to think fast.

Spotting a tall shelf you decided that was your only choice, your options growing short. Quickly you quietly stepped on the wooden floor as fast as you could and curled up behind it for cover.

Just your luck, the doorknob immediately began to rattle and steadily open with an eerie creek. You felt your breathing unsteadily increase.

Your eyelids shut, along with your hand over your mouth to cover your harsh breath, repeating mantras of safety in your head.

“Boo~” you heard a quiet whisper so close to your ear you could feel his breath.

You let out an ear-splitting shriek, jumping up and falling on your butt from shock. “I guess this means I win!” He announced childishly. Eyes widening, looking back onto the deep purple of his eyes. You can’t get caught so easily, you weren’t losing this chance, who knows if you would get another one?

You stood up with trembling legs, so fast your head felt dizzy from the adrenaline and booked it, turning on your heels in the only direction you could, only to be soon yanked by the hair backwards, your neck straining from the position.

“Now, now.” He said through gritted teeth, holding you next to himself by the roots of your hair. “Just where do you think you’re going, darling?” his tone dangerously low.

You winced from the pain he held over you, trying to get out of his hands. “nngh” you squirmed, “Let go!” you demanded.

He laughed at your request, “Now why would I do that, hmm?” he snickered.

You did everything you could to get away from his grasp but it was pointless, you didn’t want to accept that fact.

Only then did you remember the knife he was carrying, swiftly glancing down to his other hand which in fact tightly gripped the handle of the weapon.

“Did you really think i was that dumb?” He mockingly stated. “The closet was such a dumb place to go, I just had to wait ‘til you found a new hiding spot.” The liar traced along with a devious giggle.

That’s when your vision went hazy, unable to hold your eyes open any longer. Drifting off to unconsciousness. sorry for the cliché

When you awoke you found yourself right back where you started, in the dark and dusty place you’ve been confined to all this time. Bound by your joints, unable to move.

You try to struggle against the ropes desperately, doing anything you can but it was to little use, they weren’t getting any looser.

As if someone heard the noise from you squirming around, the door opened, enlightening the entry way with light and in walked a short figure. Too dark to make out but you knew who it was, it was all too clear when you heard his signature voice.

“Well, look who’s finally awake.” an audible smug grin adorning his lips.

Light footsteps walked over till he was standing right in front of your immobile body, to the point you could now see Kokichi clearly.

That’s when you smelt it, the familiar nostalgic smell, it made you sick. Cigarettes. You didn’t know Kokichi smoked.

“Y’know,” he started, “I do all of this for you!” preforming a pout on his lips.

“I never asked for this!” you shouted in retaliation. “You-“

That’s all you could say before you felt a hot sharp sting on your cheek, not even processing it until a few seconds later.

The sound reverberated on the concrete walls, your head turned to the side, rendered by the initial shock of the impact.

Kokichi let out a sigh, turning to face you with disappointment, “How many times have you I told you not to run away? Hmm?” Looking you straight in the eyes. “Twenty.. Thirty… Huh?” Demanding an answer. You didn’t want to give in, looking in the other direction, trying to ignore what he’s saying.

“You’re not getting away with it this time.” no discernible emotion opposed to anger in his voice, still with that arrogant smirk., his eyes narrowed.

You shot your eyes back at him, putting on a brave face to show you’re not scared, even though you know what’s to come.

Kokichi shuffled forward so close to you that your nose was almost touching his.

A grin so wide it sent chills down your spine spread across his face, “I’m gonna make sure you never get the idea to misbehave again..” Kokichi taunted clearly enjoying himself.

Moving his right hand to his mouth to take a long drag of the cigarette with a deep inhale, staring you down.

The smoke going straight into your lungs, causing a coughing fit in your throat, much to Kokichi’s amusement.

He took the cigarette out with two fingers, still with an evil grin.

You looked at him with begging eyes, tears welling in your eyes. He wasn’t going to what you’re thinking, right?

You were proven wrong, seconds later when a burning hot sensation pressed deep into the side of your neck. That’s when the tears in your eyes raced down your face as you let out a painful yelp at the initial collision.

Moving your eyes to the source where you see Kokichi pressing the lit cigarette into your skin with all of his strength.

Seeing the piercing smoke waft off of your skin set waves of panic down your body. Clenching your eyes shut as rampant tears found their way out. Screaming in terror and from the excruciating pain. Your cry earning a chuckle from the supreme leader. “Awe, does that hwurt?” He patronized with faux sympathy as he mercifully stopped pressing the cigarette into you.

Answering his question you nodded your head up and down, not wanting to face him again, as he flicked the used ash off of the cigarette.

Hearing a sudden change in his voice, “Good, you deserve every second of this, bitch!” he replied, with genuine sounded anger.

He soon pressed the now shorter cigarette into your collar bone, feeling more painful the second time as you screamed in pain once more. When will this torture end? “Please!” you begged with a trembling voice, almost unable to speak through the pain. “I’m sorry!” You felt as if you can’t take anymore, beginning to get lightheaded. He continued pushing it on your skin for a few more seconds before letting out a long disappointed sigh. Slowly letting it back up and throwing it on the ground, squishing it under his shoe.

The same fingers lifted your face by your chin, making you face him once more. Where you expected a scowl there was a light innocent smile, worrying you further.

All he did was wipe the hot tears from your swollen eyes, you cringing at his touch.

Soon, he stood up and cheerfully walked to the door he came from, leaving you still tied up.

“Bye, bye, s/o.” He swung open the door and walked out “Sleep tight!” You heard from behind the shutting door, and then you were all alone in the dark once again.

[sleepylixie]

6k words, Romance (Fluff/Angst), Royal AU, Enemies to Lovers, Beware of swearing

Crown Prince! Lee Minho X Crown Princess- Fem! Reader

 Dear SKZ, with love with @districtninewriters​

Music: Dynasty by MIIA, Ashes by Celine Dion, Speechless by Naomi Scott, Reflection by Christina Aguilera, My Tragedy by Taeyeon

A/N: HELLO I have been so excited to post this EHEHEHEHEHEH- Do let me know what you think of this fic, I’d love to hear feedback !! ONTO THE FIC!

Three soft knocks sounded outside your bedroom doors, prompting you to sit up and slip out of bed in a heartbeat. Sleep hadn’t been your best friend for a while, but there was a sense of peace in the mornings that couldn’t be found otherwise that had you waking up early anyway. The birds had just begun chirping with the sunrise, the first stirrings of the maids and servants causing quiet rustles outside your door.

Pulling a satin robe over your nightdress, you opened the door and ushered Han Jisung into your bedroom, taking a seat at your vanity. “What brings you here so early, Ji?” “This came in for you a few hours ago,” your closest confidante and cousin murmured, pulling out something from inside his jacket pocket and handing it over to you.

 You studied the envelope you were holding, flipping it over a few times in your hands. The quality of the paper was nicer than normal, almost like whatever was inside was more important than just a regular letter. You weren’t expecting anything, let alone important or special. But it was definitely your name on the front. In a forcefully familiar, neat cursive you had been trying all too hard to forget. “It’s from Eriant’s crown prince.” Jisung sidled closer to you, his eyes glazed in simultaneous sleep and concern. Your eyebrows arched in mild annoyance as you frowned. “I thought I told the Court of Letters to burn anything from this sender.” “It…came with another letter. From Eriant’s King. ” Your ears perked at the weary concern coating Jisung’s rounded syllables. Nodding at him to speak, you let your fingers trace over the handwriting, momentarily thrown off by the memories that came flooding back to you with the sender- “Your father the King had you betrothed to the Crown Prince to repay the war debts.”

An outraged screech escaped your lips before you could reel it in, your lips stretching back in a furious snarl. Jisung strolled to the tea table for some hot chocolate, absolutely unfazed; he was expecting things to be thrown so this was a rather tame reaction in retrospect. Your hands crumpled the letter despite the weight and thickness, the scrawl disappearing in your clenched hands. 

“The day men stop controlling my life is the day I will wipe my hands clean of them all.” You hissed between deep breaths. “Who does he think he is? Does he think he can coerce me into taking him back with a sham of a marriage?”

Ripping open the crumpled envelope, you pulled out the single leaf of heavy paper parked with the Eriant crest and the Crown Prince’s coat of arms- so he’d truly deigned to write to you himself. Jisung leaned closer to read the words in the letter, eyes narrowed and then wide as they scanned the contents.

“Apologies for the inconvenience… Betrothed to be married…moving to the castle… IN 2 DAYS?!” Your voice creaked and broke at the pitch of your furious scream, Jisung flinching from his proximity to your anger.

So much for peaceful mornings. 

//

“The Eriant party is here, Your Majesty.” The Prime Minister whispered to your father, your ears perking at the heads-up. So, it was time. Court was well underway, the sun reaching the highest point in the sky outside the arched windows, the air dotted with murmurs and conversation.

“Allow them in,” The King responded before his sharp gaze landed on you. “Behave in a manner befitting of the future queen, daughter.” A blank stare was what he got in return, an eyebrow arched in polite derision. Despite making it abundantly clear that you were not interested in marrying the Eriant prince and would do everything in your power to put the wedding to a standstill, your father had refused to oblige. 

“You were courting the prince but a year ago, daughter,” your father shouted, the maids in the corner cowering from his dangerous timbre. But you stood tall, teeth bared in a snarl of your own. “Things change in a year, father!” You exclaimed, the first embers of desperate anger sparking alive. “He’s aimless, a man of pointless rebellion. I don’t wish to be shackled to a man like that, especially one who will be my king, Velairen’s King!” “The Crown Prince has reformed his past rebellious ways. I’m sure you of all people understand reform and poor judgement, daughter.” A wildfire quickly spread across your head, your heart, burning your cheeks and fingertips and spine- “You will NOT dangle my past over my head and I will NOT marry Lee Minho. He is below me.” There was not a chance in hell that you would allow himself to be wed to him, not after everything that happened-No. No- But your father had pulled himself to his full height, the king’s authority ringing darkly in the wood panels of his study like an unbreakable decree. “You do not have a choice.”

“What do you mean, father?” you sneered, taking no small amount of delight in the quicksilver fury that passed by his eyes. “I am but a gift mare in your lost game, am I not?” 

“You-” “Presenting the Princes of Eriant and their travelling party.” The herald’s loud voice cut across your father’s likely vicious response and you turned away to face the Courtroom.

Your back straightened against the back of your throne, skirts rustling quietly as you crossed your legs, wayward thoughts eddying and swirling in your mind. There was no way you were letting this accursed wedding happen, damn your father and his decisions-

The large double doors loomed open at the other end of the courtroom, revealing a group of people dressed in the navy blue, brown and silver- Eriant’s colours. The party moved into the hall, walking down the centre aisle to you, stopping a few feet shy of the steps to the thrones. There was an oddly heavy silence that rung through the walls of the Courtroom, almost like the attendees were holding their breath.

At the head of the party stood two young men, both wearing identical smiles of sheer irreverence. One was taller than the other, his hair a mess of inky black against his forehead. Quicksilver eyes met yours for a split second before your gaze met the other- your heart skipped a beat.

He was exactly as you remembered, but somehow older. The same sharp nose and jaw, but his stance was no longer hunched and defensive- he stood tall, shoulders straight, chin up… like a king. He had dark chocolate coloured hair now, parted messily to reveal one part of his forehead. Charcoal eyes that twinkled exactly the way you remembered- no. You wouldn’t remember. Never again.

Princes Minho and Seungmin stepped in front of the party, bowing neatly to you and your father. “Welcome to Velairen, Princes.” “The pleasure is ours, Your Majesty.” Seungmin’s smile widened as he bowed his head to you. “And you, Your Highness.  Your agreement to this union is a matter of great honour for Eriant.”

Your eyebrows knitted scornfully, a soft scoff escaping your lips before you could control it. However, the words that left you were light in their countenance, easy and amused and just the right amount of coy. “One would think I was marrying you, Prince Seungmin, and not the Heir apparent who is yet to speak for himself.” The court and the Eriant party dissolved into amicable laughter, and the silence was broken. A small smile curled your lips as Lee Minho’s eyes landed on you. You held his gaze, deliciously cold and unfamiliar. You would not appear weak, not in front of him. Never again. “Heir apparent and your future queen’s betrothed.” The King stood from his throne amidst surprised gasps, the court’s attention now speared on him. “Because 3 months from now, your crown princess will be wed to Eriant’s first prince, a historical union between two ally countries-”

Before he could speak further, the court erupted into joyous celebration, the sounds of happiness ringing in your ears. You smiled widely, the picture-perfect bride-to-be and queen-to-be as you stood up and bowed to the revelling crowd.

From an outside point of view, the betrothal definitely did look like the dream alliance come true. Velairen and Eriant had been allies ever since the inception of the two countries, controlling the continent’s coastline together. During Velairen’s war with the inland desert tribes, Eriant sent troops and funds from their depthless coffers to aid Velairen’s victory. While your country won the war, the lands suffered from famine, bad trade and mourning- no way to repay Eriant for their loan….so here you were, pretending to be the blushing paragon of a happy bride. Pretending that you wanted to marry a snake in a fancy crown.

Sighing internally, you smoothed your skirts out as you sat down again, barely listening to your father’s emotional and thankful speech in honour of the many times Eriant has come to your country’s help and now, you get to repay them in kind with the hand of Velairen’s future queen. A hand that would never touch the prince’s, if you had anything to do with it-

“Thank you for the welcome, Your Majesty.” Lee Minho’s voice was like a jolt of recognition you would sell your soul to forget. “In honour of our betrothal, I have a small gift from Eriant’s treasury, for the newest jewel of our family. May I?”

You could have sworn you heard the ladies-in-waiting sigh dreamily amongst the courtiers, but all you could feel was belated disgust. Despite your inner turmoil, you smiled sweetly at him as your father nodded and let Minho walk up the steps to stop in front of your throne- where your skirts stopped. Too close for comfort.

You gulped as Minho’s clove and mint scent surrounded your senses, painfully familiar. Going down on one knee in front of you, he opened a black velvet box to reveal...fire. Your breath caught in your throat as you unconsciously put a hand out to run your finger over the row of twinkling red gemstones were inlaid into the white-gold ring…This ring had bottled a wildfire in it. “This is beautiful…” You breathed despite yourself, almost forgetting who was to slip that ring on your finger until-

“Of course, I chose it.” Minho grinned up at you, razor-sharp and devious- and you were brought back to reality. This wasn’t a true engagement. It never would be. You were nothing but one acquisition of many for Eriant, a conquest for its unruly crown prince.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you murmured soullessly amidst the merrymaking that had ensued throughout the court at the sight of the two young royals together. You didn’t pretend to sound like anything you didn’t feel like- there was nobody listening anyway. Minho’s eyes darkened as he saw your enamoured expression shutter into a blandly happy mask as he slipped the ring onto your left hand.

“Glad you like it.” He said as he got to his feet, bowing his head to you and you raised your eyebrows, a small smile still playing at your lips. To anybody else, it would have looked bashful and happy, but Minho knew better- that smile was a promise of dark things waiting to happen. “What’s another ring in a queen’s trousseau?”

 //

 “Why aren’t you ready yet?” Jisung’s exasperated voice sounded from outside your bedroom, prompting you to giggle aloud as you reclined on an armchair fully dressed, an open book placed on your lap. You had been reading and oh, how unfortunate that-

“It’s only a meeting with my betrothed, cousin dearest,” you responded, closing the book and getting to your feet. “I’m sure he can wait for me.”

“You’re almost an hour late!!” your cousin exclaimed, pounding on the door once more. “I’m not going to be fired by Uncle for your impertinent behaviour, so you better haul your royal ass out before I pick the lock and drag you downstairs by your ears!”

“Tsk, such a killjoy.” you purred, walking to your bedroom door and pulling it open, smile only widening at the sight of a red-cheeked, annoyed Han Jisung. “After his betrayal with this betrothal, I could ask for moon cheese and my father would have to oblige. You’re stuck with me, cousin dearest.”

“You and I both know you’re stalling because you’re scared of looking Minho in the eye, so drop the act, will you?” Jisung responded brusquely, rolling his eyes. A shiver tracked down your spine, unbeknownst to your cousin. He wasn’t wrong.

The Eriant party had taken up comfortable residence in… you guessed it, the princess’ wing. Your wing. And yet, you had managed to avoid Minho over the past week as he got accustomed to his new temporary residence and explored the capital city. Seungmin had caught your eye a few times, bowing his head and smirking as you passed him by. Minho, however… if anything, you were fairly sure he was avoiding you himself, judging from how atrociously easy it was to avoid him despite living in the same wing.

“A queen doesn’t act; others are just judgemental.” You scoffed dramatically, looping an arm around Jisung’s, giggling at the exaggerated huff that left your cousin’s lips. “The things I do for family.” He grumbled, letting you drag him out of your drawing room and into the corridors, a grateful smile quirking your lips.

Jisung had been your closest friend since you could remember- he had seen you grow up from an unruly, spiteful little princess into a dignified royal. At least for appearance’s sake. He knew how pained you were after the events that began your enmity with Eriant’s crown prince, the nights you’d spent staring into the night with nobody but the moon for company. You knew he had your best interests at heart- Jisung would not watch you hurt because of Lee Minho again.

“The Princess is here,” Jisung announced as you stepped into the room, your gait slow and casual. Instantly, you could sense the frustration the Crown Prince was exuding- you coughed a giggle into your hand at the sight of Minho’s furrowed brows and gritted teeth.

“Sorry I’m a little late,” you apologised airily as you slid into a chair, nodding to Seungmin and the blonde boy you recognized as the Eriant ambassador to Velairen, Lee Felix. “I got caught up in a prior commitment.” Jisung took a seat next to you, leaving you seated between him and Seo Changbin- the Minister of the Treasury and another of your close friends. The Eriant princes and Felix were seated opposite to the three of you on the long conference table, Minho directly opposite to you. Changbin dropped a quick kiss onto your cheek after you settled yourself onto the chair.

“Was the commitment of a literary nature?” he murmured, prompting you to laugh heartily. “Oh, you know me too well, dearest.” The incredulous glare Minho was giving you wasn’t lost on you- he was making no attempt to hide his emotions, it seemed. “Can we get the proceedings started now?” You asked pleasantly. “Unlike some crown princes who can loaf their lives away, I have places to be.”

The stab of amusement that tingled your spine at Minho’s affronted expression was too satisfying to let go of. He made it too easy, offending him. Seungmin coughed into his hand, a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, his silver eyes twinkling in amusement. “Of course, Your Highness,” he said, his voice deep and as pleasant as yours.

“Before anything, can we drop the honorifics? If we are to be family, honorifics mean nothing.”

A scoff escaped Minho’s lips at your request and you levelled a stare at him, bordering on ice cold. “Of course you’d want to drop the honorifics, Princess.” Minho’s voice matched you for bland pleasantry- “You’re getting married above your station after all, to a country bigger and better than yours will ever be.” And finally, the snake spits its venom.

Before you could snarl a furious response, Jisung and Changbin’s hands caught each of yours, squeezing in a warning. Not now, they seemed to say. Not now, you can rip into him later.

Teeth gritted, you turned your attention to Felix, who seemed to be cursing his luck for getting him caught in this royal crossfire. “You were saying, Ambassador?” You prompted him, pointedly ignoring Minho’s jab. Felix started and sat up straight, clearing his throat. “Yes, so, this meeting was to figure out your public appearances for the next 4 months.” Oh, stars. “Jisung and I will be managing your appearances and schedules for the next few months. On an average, you two will have to be seen together at least thrice a week- balls, charities, union meetings…wedding shopping.” He choked out and almost instantly, Minho rolled his eyes.

“Judging by the…animosity, can being cordial to each other in public be an acceptable request of the two of you?” Felix’s eyes flitted between the two of you nervously. Poor boy, he must be getting paid handsomely to put up with these rich brats. A pleasant smile lit up your face, reaching out to pat Felix’s hand where it was resting on the table. “Don’t worry, Felix. I’m not much trouble. I can manage myself in public.” Almost instantly, Felix relaxed, an uncertain smile passing across his features- “Of course she can, pretending is the only thing she does decently.”

Changbin’s hand tightened around yours, while Jisung’s grip loosened. Minho was treading the line between impoliteness and disrespect and it was clear that Jisung already had had enough of him. Still, you continued to ignore him, opting to turn to your cousin.

“What’s the first schedule we have together?” Saying the words left such a bitter taste in the back of your tongue. “Your mother The Queen’s picnic with high society at high noon tomorrow. That’s your formal introduction into the society, princes,” Jisung nodded to Minho and Seungmin, before turning to Felix. “We’d appreciate it if we get this meeting over with as soon as possible, we have a meeting with the ministry right after this.” You pursed your lips in amusement; Jisung really didn’t like Minho. You didn’t have anything scheduled after this but a peaceful afternoon in the gardens.

Minho coughed into his tea, a jeer barely hidden behind the teacup and this time, you let your chilling stare bore into him, an eyebrow raised. “Do you have anything to say that contributes to this conversation?”

He smirked, setting his teacup down. “You’ve not changed a bit, have you.” Changbin’s eyes narrowed at the disdainful undertones on his voice, but you surreptitiously patted the top of his hand before steepling your fingers on top of the table. “What makes you think so, Minho?” “You’re still the people pleasing little girl who waltzed every night away with different men. You’re still no better than a lowly courtesan, vying for a richer man’s attention-“

A gasp cut off his venomous words, his eyes betraying the pure rage coursing through his system at the sight and sensation of cold tea soaking the front of his clothes but before he could say another word- A resounding smack sent his head reeling to the side, the sheer force leaving his ears ringing. You knelt on top of the table in front of him, your teeth gritted in a barely restrained anger- the sheer fucking audacity -

Jisung, Changbin, Seungmin and Felix had shot to their feet in shock, only watching as you caught the front of blazer and brought him closer to your face, eyes not leaving his. “You never knew anything about me, Lee Minho,” You murmured softly. “You never did, you never will.” Jisung and Changbin had reached over to catch each of your shoulders, gently hauling you back from Minho but your fingers tightened on the lapels of his blazer, pulling him to his feet and halfway over the table with you. “So don’t sit there with your holier-than-thou attitude and think that I will take it lying down. I am not your doormat, but I have no qualms making you mine.”

Minho collapsed onto his seat as Jisung and Changbin dragged you over the table and set you on the floor, your chest still heaving slightly. Almost immediately, Jisung pulled you towards the double doors you had entered through, Changbin bowing before heading behind the both of them. Seungmin coughed when the doors closed behind the three of them. “That’s her, huh.”

Minho let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, a hiss escaping his teeth when his brother’s cool fingers prodded his cheek where she’d slapped him. She was just as he remembered- a spitfire with unexplained elegance, a hurricane barely contained in human skin. She was exactly as his dreams painted her to be for the past year, so fiery and real…a human embodiment of the ring he had gotten made for her. The regret that had racked his system for a year pricked the back of his eyes and he blinked aggressively, willing the emotions away from his face.

She hated him for his reckless behaviour. She would never trust him again after the way he had behaved with her back then- betrothal, marriage or a shared crown be damned. “Yes, that’s her.” //

 “Felix, you are excused. Ji, I’ll drop by your chambers later. Leave us alone for a bit.”

You growled the second your drawing room door closed behind the both of you as well as Jisung and Felix. The four of you and Seungmin had been at the Minister of Foreign affairs’ charity ball that evening, so you were all dressed in Lord Hyunjin’s chosen dress code- black and gold.

Minho had been watching you rather oddly at the beginning of the night but you’d chosen to pointedly ignore them, as you always did. Hyunjin had swept you into his arms for your first dance, the most gracious host honouring the lovely crown princess. He had held you close as you chuckled and laughed against his shoulder, thoroughly enjoying your childhood friend’s talent in dance and his innate ability to set the most stressful situations at ease.

When you turned back to your…your fiancé, however, he had taken up residence in the midst of a gaggle of ladies, all giggling and preening around him. You had pushed down the raging fire taking root at the pit of your stomach and stalked to him, asking for a dance- only to be ignored, dismissed with nary but a second glance from Minho. You had been saved from humiliation by a dark-eyed Jisung, who had swooped in and taken your outstretched hand, leading you into an easy waltz. What happened next, however…

“I’ve about had it with you for the past month, you prick,” Turning and advancing on Minho, you pushed him back with two hands on his chest. He stumbled and quickly straightened himself, a haze of anger numbing his own senses.

“Well, you really want to duke it out now, fine. Let’s talk.” Minho crossed his arms. Your face burned with a barely restrained annoyance and for a second, Minho’s heart sank. Had he crossed a line today?

The past month had been torturous for the ‘happy couple’. Velairen was overjoyed to see the queen-to-be and her beloved fiancé stepping into the limelight almost every other day, their love a picture-perfect union. You had laughed and smiled at Minho, let your fingers brush his knuckles and grip his arm, let him lead you in dances and feed you cupcakes at every ball and celebration you could humanly attend together.

Minho, to his credit, had played along. He never failed to offer you his arm on walks, always helped you fix your outfits, dropped ‘secret’ kisses against your cheek and temple, soft and loving and the paragon of a fiancé in love.

But little did Velairen know, the war that the ‘happy couple’ waged behind the scenes. How your hands would always clutch Minho’s bicep a touch too roughly, almost enough for him to wince. How you would deliberately step on his toes mid-dance and giggle airily, apologizing and shying away like a bashful bride. How Minho would trip you on walks and then proceed to catch you, cursing the cobblestones in the most gallant manner. How he would butt into your conversations with dukes and have ‘politely flirty’ conversation with the fawning ladies-in-waiting. Tonight, however…

“Do I really have to go over how much of an absolute ass you looked like in the ball tonight? How you undermined me?”

Minho scoffed, rolling his eyes.  “You were the one simpering and falling all over that Lord Hyunjin.”

“He’s like my brother, you possessive idiot!” You threw your arms up in exasperation. “And I can’t bring myself to care about you going around behaving like a man whore. Just try to be a little discreet about it, will you?”

Deep down, your words hit Minho with shards of hurt. Was that how low you thought of him? Despite the bile and nausea that rose to his throat at the thought, he swallowed, before speaking again.

“If that’s not your concern, then what is? The tripping? Surely you’re not that juvenile. You had your revenge on my toes for that-“ “You undermined me in front of the FUCKING MINISTRY!” Your voice rose to a yell and Minho pursed his lips. He truly had crossed a line tonight. You continued, your voice still loud and furious.

“You told the fucking Minister of Education that the only reason I have a crown on my head is because of my blood and not my capability.” You fumed. “I should have you thrown into the dungeons for your thoughtless impertinence.” And the anger came rushing back to his body, replacing any semblance of regret he harboured for his (albeit) false words.

“You don’t have the authority to do that, princess,” he spat out the last word like a mockery of it’s meaning and you stiffened, your vision going red.

“The only thing royal about you is your royal ego, Minho.” You snarled at him. “You’re in my palace. My turf. I can do whatever I wish to you, short of pulling your tongue out.” “Like you can afford to hurt me in any way,” Minho scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Eriant would have your head if I went back disfigured.”

“That’s what you do best, don’t you?” You grinned mockingly, crossing your arms. “Hide behind your country’s prestige like a little boy.” Minho’s eyes darkened, his jaw tight in anger but you found yourself still talking, letting the words slip out of you unrestrained.

“You don’t know a thing about the power you hold other than lording it over people’s heads, PLEASE,” you spit, prodding his chest with a finger. “don’t think, even for a second, that I will ever take you or this sham of an engagement I’m trapped in seriously.”

Turning your back on him, you stalked to the low tea table and poured yourself some water in a bid to calm yourself, when Minho let out a derisive laugh behind you. “There it is. You’re trapped in this engagement? Do you ever think about the unfortunate souls that have to deal with your narcissistic self?” Your fingers tightened around the glass; you would not respond with the anger he was asking- no, begging for any further. “Everything is about you, isn’t it? Your betrothal, your crown, your country, your ice-cold heart and your inability to love-“

Judging from the way your body stilled, he knew he’d touched a nerve. But when you turned to face him, Minho was not prepared to see tears lining your red-rimmed eyes. He didn’t expect the sight to affect him the way it did, feel like his heart had just dropped a thousand feet, heavy and regretful.

“Is that what you think?” “I-I just-“Minho sucked in a deep breath, an attempt to calm the ice-cold panic that was seeping into his veins. “That crossed a boundary. My apologies. I did not mean to say that.”

You only scoffed tearfully in response, a…no, that wasn’t a smile, that was an unfeeling curl of your lips that couldn’t be deigned a smile. “You wouldn’t have said that had you not thought it true, Minho.”

Suddenly you weren’t the headstrong, stubborn, reckless girl Minho was used to seeing, the one with a viper tongue and wolves’ claws. Suddenly, you were the teenager who was used to getting what she wanted, even in the realm of love- the young girl who laid her eyes on men and ladies who fascinated you and did all you could to claim them. Suddenly, you were the young princess who had laid eyes on a young Lee Minho and had instantly wanted him- the blooming young lady new to high society, having eyes only for the rebellious, sharp-tongued, young prince with a smile that could fell kingdoms.

The queen-to-be who never really stopped having eyes only for the king-to-be.

“You found it so easy to dismiss me as a player, a royal rake with no human feeling whatsoever, didn’t you?” You laughed humourlessly, brushing past Minho to flop on the drawing room couch. His eyes followed you, his place at the edge of the rug still unchanged.

“You made it easy to do that, princess,” Minho murmured, his voice soft, placating, hesitant- almost like he was treading a thin line between setting off your anger or god forbid, hurt you again. “Your reputation preceded you.”

“My reputation painted me without virtue, without honour but it didn’t paint me without a heart, prince.” To that, Minho had no answer. The fight left his body, his shoulders slumped in defeat. His body steered him to the armchair next to you, sinking onto the plush cushions. “You’re right.”

“You heard a part of one conversation I had with a lady-in-waiting who wanted to bed you and instantly assumed you were yet another conquest for me.” You pulled your body upright, your tear-streaked face at odds with your pin-straight back and upright chin. This was a future queen in front of him, Minho realized. A queen who had stood trial for her poor decisions in the past and had never shirked into the darkness in fear of being wrong.

“I told her you were my conquest and that you were already crawling into bed with me so that she wouldn’t hound you. Because-“ you gulped, before spitting out the words that choked you on the way out. “Because I was jealous.” Oh.

“I was jealous because I saw you dally with that lady-in-waiting before…before we began courting. I didn’t want you to see how- I didn’t want you to see all the beauties Velairen had to offer and decide I wasn’t it for you. And that thought terrified me.” Oh. Oh.

“I’ll admit, I- I courted you only out of curiosity for your pretty face- But I swear, when I spoke to that noble, I already knew I was in love with you. Had been for a while. Those 3 months of courting you was probably the most- the only time courting felt right.” Well, damn.

Every cruel word he’d thrown at you after eavesdropping on that fateful conversation and the past month…it was all for naught. You had never been the rake, the rebellious player that rumor and reputation painted you out to be. His insult to your character a year ago was what pushed you away from him, unhesitatingly having chosen yourself over a prince who clearly didn’t know enough about you. “I love you.”

A sharp intake of breath was the only response Minho received in response to his blurted confession, your eyes wide with disbelief. “You what?” “I love you. I always have.” Minho’s mouth worked on instinct now, pouring out the words that had been brewing in the back of his mind for a year, weighed down by guilt, regret, embarrassment-

“I panicked when I heard you tell that noble that I was nothing but a conquest. I thought I was more to you. I wanted to be more to you, but there you were, making it abundantly clear that you weren’t. I panicked. The things I said, I didn’t mean a single word of them. Not a single one of them.”

Minho risked a glance at you, Your jaw was slack in surprise, your eyes still wide, fingers still clutching your dark skirts tightly, like you were struggling to stay in reality. The expression enough was almost enough for him to mentally slap himself to shut up, but he was beyond silence now-

“This betrothal was probably the best thing that could have happened to me. It brought me back to you. But when I saw the hatred you still had for me…I didn’t know how else to respond to your jibes. I’m truly sorry about all of it.

“I know my apology doesn’t take back all the absolutely shitty things I’ve said. I won’t expect you to take me back after everything. But could I…could I ask you for another chance?” and out of instinct, his body moved to kneel on one knee in front of you, a choked sob escaping your lips. “Minho-“

“Let me prove to you that I- I mean what I said. Because I do, I really do.” Minho’s hand curled around yours, the hand you wore the ring Minho had given you. “Will you…will you let me prove it to you?” A beat of silence turned to two, three, ten… “Yes.”

//

 “JISUNG! Seungmin’s shadowing us!” You called out, chuckling when you heard the amused groan from behind the curtains. The second Eriant prince slinked out and threw you a two fingered salute, his eyes twinkling. You responded in kind, winking at him as he slipped out of your drawing room, just as Jisung walked in from your bedroom, arms laden with boxes. “Stay out of the bride’s room, best man!” Jisung yelled to the open drawing room door, only getting a distant chuckle and a resounding NO in response.

“He idolizes your rake phase.” Jisung grumbled, carefully placing the boxes on the tea table as you laughed aloud, crossing your legs. “And here I was, thinking he was just spying on me for his brother.”

“Well, that too.” Changbin grinned as he walked into your drawing room with Hyunjin, each with a gift box in hand. “My my, for all the love I’m receiving, I should have gotten married earlier!” You grinned, rising to pull both the Ministers into a hug. “Don’t flatter yourself, this is only going to last for the next hour.” Hyunjin stuck his tongue out, ruffling your hair affectionately. “When you get back from Eriant after the tour, you’re going to be treated as woefully normal. As Queen and not Minho’s Wife.” Minho’s wife. The words still sent a giddy jolt down your spine.

True to his words that night, Minho had proved his love to you, a little by little, day by day. This time, there was no misunderstanding and oh, the way his love bloomed. He greeted you with love letters with your morning tea and later, forehead kisses and lazy cuddles in bed.

He had taken his word very seriously and stoutly refused to speak against you for another month until you goaded him into banter again, stating that his sharp tongue was just another thing you adored about him.

Which was why you didn’t have to hesitate when he proposed marriage to you yet again, in the royal garden amongst red roses and white lilies, moonlight striking your happy tears as you said the magic word- “Yes.”

Life was a little brighter now. Not from hate, no. This time, from love. From Minho.

//

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Thank you for reading! Do let me know what you think! -Elliana