#because i know that feeling of fate screwing you over and having to give up your hoard

[andi-o-geyser]

are they playing dreidel with presents and dice??

yes they are

and on brand, laura is winning dnd present dreidel

[gyuuberryy]

love potions (but make it legal)!

pairing: tutor!jungwon x reader

summary: you had not been too excited about these tutoring sessions your potions professor had dropped on you. but, after meeting your tutor you couldn’t hope but think you both were brewing more than just potions, perhaps even love?

genre: hogwarts au, jungwon is a loser for the reader, initially slightly one sided pining, fluff, angst

warnings: some hogwarts lore references, mentions of failing a class, jealousy, angst, magic stuff, kissing, suggestive(ish)

note: they don’t actually make love potions in this but i liked the sound of it so i used it in the title hehe. i hope you guys enjoy this fic as you had given so much love to the heeseung one.

word count: 4.3kish

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

to the anon who requested a jungwon hogwarts au im sososoo sorry for publishing this like six months later. i had a terrible writer’s block with this one. i’m terribly sorry, this constantly ran through my mind but i couldn’t bring myself to begin. i hope you like this!

you were so screwed.

you felt like a deflated balloon looking at your mock NEWT results. you were literally failing your potions class. with all the time spent in balancing out your classes, quidditch and sessions at the room of requirement as a part of dumbledore’s army, you had not practised well enough for your classes that were practical based. 

seeing your grades drop from exemplary results to having mediocre grades and failing a class was depressing. so, your potions teacher had made you stay back to have a word with you which is why you stood off to the side. your head hung low in disappointment with yourself. if this continued, it would be hard to apply for an auror’s job, which was your dream. 

you were broken out of your thoughts by the sound of your professor clearing his throat. your head shot up and you looked around to see the room was now empty save for you both. he gestured to the seat next to his table, so you shuffled over.

he looked over the rim of his glasses as he scanned over your report card. you hated the pitiful look that crossed over his face, you were not used to this.

“you are one of my best students, i really wasn’t expecting this from you..”

you grimaced at his words, feeling worse about your situation. great, you were not the only one disappointed by yourself.

your professor must have noticed because his tone immediately became gentle as he gave you a comforting smile. 

“see, the only reason i asked you to stay back was because i know you can do better”, he shuffled through a register seemingly looking for something. “i’m sure you have your reasons as to why your performance went down. i know you can improve again.”

you nodded at his words, already starting to feel better, “yes professor i-”

“which is why i think you should get tutored”, he cut you off.

you froze. tutoring? this was so embarrassing, usually you were the one to provide tutoring to others, and now you have to be the one to receive it? no thank you.

you let out a small chuckle, “i understand professor, but i think i can handle it by myself.”

his brows creased at your words, “i don’t think you have enough time for that, the exams are nearing and you have managed to mess up even the basic things in the exam.”

you sighed at his words, silently accepting your fate because he wasn’t wrong. maybe you should swallow your ego and just get tutored, it was for your own good anyway.

taking a deep breath you put on a fake smile and gritted out, “okay.”

the rush of your mary jane clad feet filled the hallways of hogwarts with clopping sounds. your feet skidded to a stop in front of the library doors and you placed your hand over your chest, trying to catch your breath from the ten minute long run. you were late for your first tutoring session because your evening nap went a little longer than expected. 

brushing out stray hair strands from your face you opened the doors and stepped in, looking around for your tutor. the only person other than you was a boy with raven hair, sitting on a bench completely surrounded by bookshelves. 

you approached him, assuming he was your tutor. 

“uh hey!”, you called out in an unsure manner. “are you my assigned tutor for po-”

“yes”, he cut you off curtly, not even bothering to spare you a glance. “take a seat.”

you frowned in confusion at his cold behaviour and pulled out a chair to sit next to him. he seemed to be shuffling through some papers and organising them. a few seconds went by with him failing to acknowledge your presence. you cleared your throat awkwardly and introduced yourself, trying to get his attention. 

his head immediately shot up as soon as he heard your name, his eyes widening in what you could tell was surprise. confused at his reaction, you just gave him a small smile. he was silent for a while, giving you enough time to take in his features.

bangs fell over the smooth skin of his forehead and he looked at you through glasses which fit perfectly on his face, adding on to his handsome features. you had seen him around a few times as you shared a few classes with him. he was one of the smartest students, loved by all his teachers.

“uh i’m jungwon”, his voice broke through the awkward silence.

you nodded, “hey. i’ve seen you around.”

his lips pulled up into a smile at that as he let out a small laugh nervously. you raised your eyebrows at his sudden shift in demeanour. just a moment ago he didn’t care about your presence and now he was smiling? whatever.

“professor told me you had been facing some problems with potions”, he looked down and tapped his quill on the table. “what can i help you with?”

you explained how you messed up the practical test for your mocks. he listened intently, never breaking eye contact with you which made you a bit nervous. 

you came to an end of your rant but jungwon still maintained eye contact with you, his chin resting on his hand now. 

you cleared your throat, “so..?”

he still seemed to be staring at you, his eyes out of focus as he dreamily smiled at you.

frowning at his odd behaviour, you waved your hand in front of his face which broke him out of his thoughts. his eyes widened momentarily as he shook his head, a small blush spreading across his cheeks.

“are you sick?”

he chuckled nervously, “no no i was just planning out how i could help you”

he picked up a quill and started writing a plan for you in neat handwriting. once he was done, he passed the sheet over to you.

“we’ll follow this for the next two weeks. meet me in the potions class at four tomorrow.”

you gave a once over at what he had written and smiled at him. “will do, thanks jungwon!”

he nodded and started packing up his things. when he was done he looked at you expectantly, “it’s time for dinner, let’s go to the great hall together.”

you smiled and gathered your things as well.

it was the first day of your tutoring and you were early today.

or you thought so.

glancing around the potions classroom, you spotted jungwon already there. he was perched on a stool, arranging vials and flasks on the tables. unlike his usual composed demeanour in class, he seemed flustered, his bangs falling over his forehead as he fumbled with a particularly stubborn stopper.

he looked up as he heard you shuffle in, a relieved smile splitting his face.

"ah, there you are! i was starting to think you'd gotten lost."

"lost?" you repeated, a laugh escaping your lips. "in the potions classroom? hardly."

he chuckled, a nervous undertone to it. "right, of course. so, are you ready to tackle some invisibility potion today?"

you straightened your robes, a determined glint in your eyes. "ready as i'll ever be. though," you added, an unsure lilt in your voice, "considering my track record, maybe 'invisible' isn't the best thing to start off with."

jungwon's hummed, his cheeks flushing. "well, that's why we're practising, isn't it? to avoid another...disappearing act?"

you snorted. "exactly. though, to be fair, the professor did say my failed polyjuice potion was rather impressive in its...uniqueness."

he winced. "right. let's just focus on not achieving sentience with our cauldron this time, alright?"

the rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind of chopping netslime and muttering incantations. jungwon was a patient tutor, though his explanations sometimes devolved into nervous rambling when your eyes met. 

by the end of the session, your potion shimmered a faint, almost-invisible blue. not perfect, but a far cry from your previous disasters. jungwon beamed, his earlier awkwardness replaced by genuine pride.

"see? you're a natural! with a little more practice, you'll be brewing like snape in no time."

you laughed. "snape? now that's a terrifying image."

he chuckled, then cleared his throat, his gaze flickering away. "well, i should probably get going. i have herbology first thing tomorrow."

you nodded, gathering your things. "alright, see you then. and jungwon?"

he stopped at the door, his eyes questioning.

"thanks a lot for doing this. i already feel more confident.”

he smiled at that, making you do the same unconsciously.

the next two weeks flew by in a flurry of potion-making and stolen glances in your sessions, and outside of it whenever you both crossed paths. you had made a new friend and you were grateful for his help. you found yourself approaching the cauldron with newfound determination. your brews were improving steadily, and the playful banter during your sessions only added to the enjoyment.

one particularly chilly evening, you hurried down to the room of requirement, the usual meeting place for your secret DA practice sessions. you entered to find the familiar sight of your fellow students practising disarming spells and dodging jinxes. but amidst the chaos, you spotted an unexpected face – jungwon.

he was facing away from you, expertly deflecting a curse with a flick of his wand. you blinked, momentarily speechless. you never knew jungwon was a part of this! a warmth bloomed in your chest, a mixture of surprise and a strange sense of pride.

"nice one, jungwon!" , you called out, a wide grin on your face. jungwon turned, his eyes meeting yours. a flicker of surprise crossed his features before he broke into a wide grin.

"hey there," he said casually, striding over to you. "didn't expect to see you here."

"me neither," you admitted, a smile playing on your lips. "i guess you're not just a potions prodigy, huh?"

he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "turns out i have a few other hidden talents."

the rest of the evening flew by in a whirlwind of practice. seeing jungwon in this new light – confident, skilled, and fighting for a cause you both believed in – made your heart flutter. he was everything you admired and more.

admire? since when did that happen?

shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts, you got back to practising your charm. although, over the duration of the practise, your mind couldn’t help but wander towards jungwon’s recent behaviour. he had been sweet to you since the beginning, always ready to help out. and the way he blushed around you and quipped with you, you couldn’t help but think that maybe he also felt something? 

as the group started dispersing, you lingered near the room's entrance, feigning the need to adjust your cloak.

"hey," jungwon's voice startled you. he was packing his bag, a casual smile playing on his lips. "didn't head out yet?"

"actually," you began, fiddling with the strap of your bag, "there was something i wanted to ask you about."

his smile widened in invitation. "shoot."

you took a deep breath. "it's about dumbledore's army. we've been working on patronus charms lately, and well, i'm struggling a bit." shame tinged your cheeks. you weren't used to needing help with spells.

jungwon's expression softened with understanding. "a patronus charm, huh? tricky business, that. but hey, i might be able to offer some pointers."

relief washed over you. "really? that would be amazing!"

he gestured towards a secluded corner of the room. "come on, then. let's see what you're working with."

you settled onto the dusty floor, explaining your struggles. you could conjure a faint wisp of silvery light, but it was far from the actual form you needed. jungwon listened intently, occasionally asking clarifying questions.

"okay," he said once you finished, "it seems you've got the basic idea down. the key is focusing on a strong, happy memory. something that evokes a feeling of pure joy and warmth."

he saw your hesitant expression and chuckled. "don't worry, it's not a competition to see who has the most embarrassing childhood memory."

you forced a smile. "no, of course not." but your mind struggled to find that perfect memory.

jungwon seemed to sense your frustration. "close your eyes," he instructed gently. 

"take a deep breath and try to visualise a place that makes you feel truly happy. maybe a familiar place from your childhood, a special time with a friend, anything that brings a smile to your face."

you closed your eyes, following his guidance. images flickered through your mind – family picnics, winning a quidditch match, late-night talks with your best friend. but none of them seemed to spark the necessary warmth.

just as you were about to give up, a memory surfaced. a smile bloomed on your face. you opened your eyes and met jungwon's gaze. "i think i have it," you whispered.

he nodded encouragingly. "focus on that feeling. the warmth, the happiness, let it flow through you and into your wand."

you closed your eyes again, picturing the memory that brought you happiness. it was a little hazy as you tried to focus on the touch and sounds from that memory. with a deep breath, you pointed your wand forward and muttered the incantation.

a wisp of silvery light erupted from your wand, growing and solidifying into a shape. it wasn't perfect – the outline of a cat was more suggestion than a form – but it was a patronus. you had finally done it.

a cheer escaped your lips as you realised you had finally done it. you looked at jungwon, your heart brimming with gratitude. "i did it!"

he beamed, genuine pride radiating from him. "see? you're a natural. you just needed a little nudge in the right direction."

his words held a hint of something more, something that sent a shiver down your spine. you wanted to thank him properly, to express just how much his help meant to you. 

"thank you, jungwon," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. you wished, however, that your patronus could solidify into something more impressive, something that truly reflected the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

as if sensing your unspoken desire, jungwon stepped closer. his movements were subtle, almost hesitant. but before you could question it, he reached behind you, his hand gently wrapping around yours, enclosing both your hands and your wand within his hold.

a jolt of electricity shot through you at his touch. the air in the room crackled with a tension you hadn't noticed before. your focus on the patronus wavered momentarily, replaced by a hyper awareness of jungwon's warm torso pressed against your back, his fingers brushing against yours.

his warm breath fanned over your ear as he whispered even though there was no one around to hear you both, “now completely focus on that memory.”

the room seemed to shrink, the air growing thick with unspoken tension. you focused on the memory, it acting as a soothing anchor in the storm brewing inside you. but this time, something was different. the wispy light from your wand pulsed, growing brighter, solidifying. the faint outline of a cat sharpened, taking on a more defined form.

in the heightened focus, you were oblivious to everything except the memory and the warmth radiating from jungwon's hand on yours. the familiar nostalgia from the memory echoed in your mind, a beacon of happiness. with a burst of energy, a fully formed silver cat patronus materialised, leaping and frolicking around the room.

you gasped in awe, forgetting everything else. "it's perfect! it's actually a perfect patronus!" 

you jumped, unknowingly pushing yourself more into jungwon, making him wrap his hands loosely around you as he chuckled lowly. you spun around to share your joy with him.

but as you turned, your breath hitched. you were impossibly close to him, his hand still wrapped around yours, his face mere inches away. his eyes were dark and intense, a mirror of the emotions swirling within you. the air crackled with unspoken desire.

you leaned in, heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. he tilted his head ever so slightly, his lips hovering a whisper away from yours. his breath hitched ever so slightly, as you both leaned in, the space between your lips closing with each passing second.

just as your lips were about to meet, jungwon pulled back abruptly. 

he cleared his throat, his hand falling away from yours. "that's... that's amazing," he stammered, his eyes flickering away from yours. "a perfect patronus. you really are something else."

his words held a strange distance, and a knot of unease tightened in your stomach. the electric tension that had thrummed in the air moments ago had dissipated, replaced by an awkward silence. you weren't sure what had happened, but embarrassment washed over you in suffocating waves. the joy of your achievement felt strangely hollow now.

your patronus immediately vanished into thin air, leaving a trail of sparkles behind.

the tension in the room receded as quickly as it had risen, leaving a bewildered silence in its wake. you blinked, confused and slightly disappointed. why did he stop?

"i, uh," he stammered, looking at his shoes, "i think it's getting late. maybe we should call it a night?"

did he regret the near kiss? or was there something else at play? 

you opened your mouth to ask, but the words wouldn't come. the magic of the patronus lingered, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

"yeah," you finally managed, your voice barely a whisper. "it's getting late."

jungwon offered a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes before gathering his things and hurrying towards the exit. you watched him go, a myriad of emotions swirling within you.

disappointment gnawed at you like a dementor during your potions class the next day. your potions professor, inspecting your bubbling concoction with a delighted smile, declared it "exactly by the book."

he beamed, announcing, "it appears the extra sessions have paid off! perhaps we can consider them concluded, wouldn't you agree?"

a lump formed in your throat. you glanced at jungwon, expecting a playful jab or a celebratory nod. but he simply shrugged, a noncommittal, ‘sounds good to me,’ escaping his lips.

the professor's words should have filled you with relief. you were back on track, independent once more. yet, as the class ended, all you felt was a hollow emptiness. you caught jungwon's eye for a fleeting moment, hoping for a familiar spark or a shared grin. instead, he averted his gaze, muttering a hurried goodbye and hurried out of the classroom.

this became a pattern over the next few days. in the hallways, where you once exchanged playful jibes, jungwon now seemed to melt into the background whenever you approached. shared classes were endured in a tense silence, his friendly demeanour replaced by a distant politeness. 

you replayed the scene in the room of requirement over and over in your head, desperately trying to pinpoint where you'd gone wrong. 

had you misread the tension? had you moved too fast, startled him with your sudden boldness?

one evening, you found yourself lingering outside the room of requirement, the usual meeting place for dumbledore's army. you weren't sure why you were there, perhaps a desperate hope that jungwon would appear. the door creaked open, and your best friend peeked out.

"lost something?" she asked, her brow quirked in concern.

you shook your head, the words refusing to form.

"everything alright?" she pressed gently, her perceptive eyes searching yours.

you sighed, finally blurting out, "it's jungwon. did i…did i do something wrong?"

her knowing smile softened the blow. "ah," she said, pulling you into a hug. "sometimes, the most powerful potions are brewed in silence, simmering with unspoken emotions."

her words offered little comfort, but they planted a seed in your mind. maybe rushing something as delicate as what you felt for jungwon wasn't the way. maybe patience, like the perfect potion, required time and the right balance of ingredients. you resolved to let things cool, to focus on mastering your spells and potions, hoping that maybe, one day, the right opportunity would present itself, and the spark you shared with jungwon wouldn't need words to reignite.

screw whatever you thought before. you couldn't wait for that ‘one day’ to come as you watched your classmate, a girl with hair like spun sunshine, practically cling to jungwon's arm in herbology. they were bent over, giggling like pixies at a particularly stubborn gillyweed.

fury replaced the embers of hope your friend had ignited. who was this girl? had he moved on that quickly? 

jealousy bubbled in your stomach as you stalked away from the window, hurt settling in your chest. but you were determined to make things right, even if it meant making your friendship(?) with him awkward, you needed to know what went wrong. 

the bell signalling the end of class was your cue. you bolted out, weaving through students, your eyes locked on jungwon. he noticed you coming, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but before he could react, you were upon him.

he was walking with the sunshine-haired girl, lost in their own conversation, until a breathless, "jungwon!" ripped him from it. he turned, eyes widening further when he saw your determined, (slightly crazed) expression.

"uh, hi?" he stammered, glancing between you and the girl who stood blinking at you both, confused.

"excuse me," you said politely through gritted teeth to the girl, who, thankfully, scurried off with a mumbled ‘see you later, jungwon.’

now, alone with the reason of your anger and surging jealousy, you grabbed his arm and steered him away from the castle grounds. you marched him past the greenhouses until you reached a secluded clearing near the black lake. there, with a flourish that would have earned you points in charms class, you pinned him against a sturdy oak tree.

he stared at you, bewildered, as your chest heaved. "okay," he started cautiously, "what's going on?"

"what's going on?" you sputtered, finally finding your voice. "what's going on is, i thought we had...something!" you gestured wildly towards the castle, where you could still see a flicker of sunshine hair disappear around a corner.

jungwon blinked, then a slow blush crept up his neck. "we...we do! we had potions tutoring sessions, remember?"

you threw your hands up in exasperation. "ugh, not tutoring! this…this unspoken thing we have!"

his blush deepened, and he mumbled something inaudible under his breath.

"what?" you demanded.

he took a deep breath. "look, about that night in the room of requirement..."

"yes?" you leaned in, heart pounding.

he cleared his throat. "maybe i… i overreacted. i wasn't sure what you were feeling, and…"

he trailed off, his gaze dropping to the ground. you gaped at him, realising the truth. you hadn't scared him off, he'd scared himself off! 

but there was more. a flicker of insecurity crossed his eyes. "and to be honest," he admitted sheepishly, "the real reason i've been avoiding you… well, it's because i was trying to figure out how to tell you something...something big."

you blinked. here you were, fuming about a nonexistent threat, while jungwon had been battling his own insecurities. the situation was hilarious, almost. but mostly, it was endearing.

a slow smile spread across your face. "well, spill it, jungwon. don't leave me in suspense."

he fumbled with his words, cheeks burning a fiery red. "it's about...well, ever since the beginning of this year, i’ve looked at you…in a different light."

your heart thrummed erratically now, hoping he was getting to where you wanted him to.

"...and, well, you're not just funny and smart, you're kind and brave, and the way you laugh at my stupid jokes, it just makes me..." his voice trailed off, his eyes pleading with yours. 

his rambling was adorable, but the knot of frustration in your stomach tightened with every nervous stammer. you couldn't take it anymore.

grabbing him by the collar, you silenced him with a kiss. it started desperate, fueled by the need to know his true feelings, but as his lips met yours, it melted into something sweeter. you poured your unspoken emotions into that kiss, the frustration, the longing, the dawning hope. 

suddenly, jungwon spun you around, switching your positions so that you were pushed against the tree now. your breath hitched in surprise at his sudden show of confidence. he dove back into the kiss, his soft lips moving against yours in fervour. the intensity of your kiss increased along with your pulse and you were pretty sure jungwon could feel it with the way he was pressed up against you

when he finally pulled back, breathless and dizzy, a different kind of silence hung in the air.

jungwon stared at you as your cheeks flushed a brilliant crimson, mirroring the sunset bleeding across the lake. finally, a smile bloomed on his face, genuine and relieved. 

"see," he breathed, voice husky, "that was much easier than all that."

you laughed, a genuine sound that echoed through the clearing. relief washed over you, warm and tingly. "i should be the one saying that" you teased.

“yeah well i chickened out”, he scratched his head in embarrassment, “i wanted my confession to be perfect.”

you smirked, “yeah well what you pulled right now was very romantic. i didn’t know you had that in you.”

he rolled his eyes playfully and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “you liked it though. let’s head back now, it’s almost time for dinner.”

you smiled as you walked in step with him, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. he squeezed your hand with a cheeky grin on his face.  you returned the squeeze looking up at him in question, when his next words had a blush blooming on your face.

“i hope you’re going to pay me back for those lessons with more of such kisses.”

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

[fourmoony]

oh my god. eating the chocolate that makes you really horny with james!!! plslsllslss

thank you for requesting! this is 2.2k words of pure smut. i guess it got away from me? f!reader, mdni

cw: drug use, unprotected sex, cock warming, p in v, cream pie

Your body feels like it's thrumming with energy. Skin tingling, a static in your veins that's making it impossible to sit still. But you try. You really, really try because you refuse to lose. Even if it feels like every minute you're not doing anything about the burning in your veins is a minute closer to death.

It's Sirius' fault, really. He and Remus had thought it was a wholly hilarious idea to bring back a 'special' bar of chocolate from their trip to Amsterdam. Lo and behold, it hadn't been a typical special chocolate bar, but an aphrodisiac one, instead. Ensue a bet about whether or not it actually works and now. Well, now you're eating your entirely too confident words about it being a load of bullshit. You could give in. You could admit defeat because it's not like Sirius and Remus stuck around for long after theirs kicked in.

But it's just you and James in your tiny shared flat and you really don't feel like announcing departure to your room and having him know what you're up to in there. Especially when it doesn't seem to be affecting James the way it's affecting you. His eyes are trained on the television, feet kicked up on the coffee table. He looks normal, unfazed. You try to remember if he even ate any of the chocolate but your brain is too clouded. Too foggy with the feeling of need.

You try to settle, press your thighs together and chance another look at the clock. It's not late enough to claim fatigue. You sigh, resigned to your fate.

James shifts, burrows further into the couch as his head tilts over to look at you. "You okay?" He asks.

His voice sends jolts like pure electricity down your spine. He and the boys had smoked, too, before taking the chocolate. The lazy tilt to his voice reverberates through you until you feel yourself throbbing. "Yeah, all good." You bite out.

You're the furthest thing from all good, in actuality. Sure, you've thought about screwing James before. In passing. He's your roommate, it only takes walking into the bathroom at an inopportune time to supply a weeks worth of seedy dreams that leave you feeling guilty, after. But this is different. You're genuinely concerned that if you don't get James out of your line of sight, now, you're going to proposition him and then you're going to have to move out and never show face again.

Fuck Sirius and his chocolate.

James doesn't say anything for a while. You're not sure if he believes you, by the way his eyes flick over every now and then. His gaze is burning hot, your limbs screaming out for you to move. Everything is too much; the ache, the throbbing, the wetness you can feel pressing against your panties. It only intensifies when, finally, James reaches out. Slowly, softly, fingers encircling the skin of your ankle. He holds for a while, draws lazy circles against the bone until you're practically writhing in your seat. You don'd doubt for a second that he can't hear your shallow breathing, that he doesn't know exactly what he's doing.

Or, maybe, he doesn't. Maybe he's as worked up as you and needs the touch like you do.

The desire grows, the burning grows, angry and unavoidable until you feel the welling of tears in your eyes. It should be embarrassing, should be absolutely mortifying to be crying from James' touch. A touch he gives you so often and never means anything. A touch that usually soothes you.

His eyes flick over once more, catch the tears that slip freely down your cheeks, even as your eyes focus solely on the television. James calls on you, his face soft and filled with pity. He beckons you towards him with a tug on your ankle and you go. No questions. Because it's all too much and you just need it to end.

"Hey," James shushes, ushering you to sit in his lap, warm hands cupping your head as his thumb swipes at your tears. "Whats wrong, angel?"

"It's too much, Jamie." Your voice is weak, shaky. You feel pathetic and needy and the feeling of James' strong thighs underneath you aren't helping.

He brushes the hair from your face gently, runs the pads of his fingers down your bare arms, the skin of your thighs. You shiver under his touch, eyes closing. "Okay, okay," James' voice comes barely above a placating whisper, "I'm gonna make it better, angel. Okay?"

You whine, falling face first into his shoulder, "Please."

He doesn't say anything else as he cants his hips upward. You feel the warmth of his skin against your thighs as he pulls his pyjama bottoms down, the hardness of him when he settles you both back down. The chocolate has clearly affected him, too. It feels better to know, less overwhelming that you're not having some kind of terrible reaction to it.

You clench around nothing at the mere idea of his cock against your thigh. James can't seem to help the way he bucks a few times against your skin, breaths shallow and throaty. His hands on your ass cheeks encourage you up onto your knees, your face still buried in the warmth of his shoulder. You do as he urges, practically scream when you feel James run his head along your soaked slit.

"Shh," James coos, "It's okay. You're okay."

He urges you down his cock slowly, the pressure like nothing you've ever felt before. It keeps going and going until you feel so full you can't breathe, can't move, can't do anything but fist the material of James' sleep shirt and moan brokenly into his shoulder. When you're at the hilt, James' hips cant upwards, the feeling like being hit with a blast of lightening straight from the sky. You cry out, lifting James' shirt until your hands slip underneath, warm skin meeting the blunt edges of your nails. James groans when they dig in.

You try to move your hips, breaths evening out now that the worst of your need is gone. You feel satiated, pacified. You feel stuffed full and deliriously happy. James stops you from moving, though, hands firmly fisted in the material of your sleep shorts. "Just stay like this a minute." He murmurs.

You nod, allow yourself to relax fully into him. He lifts your shirt over your head, exposes your overheated skin to the cool air and you sigh. His own shirt follows a minute later, your nipples brushing against his chest. It sends jolts through your entire body, simultaneously flatlines your heart and brings it back to life. You moan and whine, feel your own wetness seeping between you both as James runs the pads of his fingers up and down the plane of your back.

You're not sure how long you lie like that, lost in the fullness of him, the static of his touch. It feels like seconds and hours, and when the credits of whatever movie start to roll, James ushers you out of his shoulder. The shift makes you both whine, James' grip tightening on your ass. "You doing okay?" He asks.

His face is so earnest, even in his own pleasure. Gentle hazel eyes that meet yours with so much respect and care. His glasses are slanted on his face and you reach up to fix them, hands trembling. "Never better." You tell him, honestly.

James smiles softly, "How do you want it?"

You clench around him at the question, breathy sounds coming from you. James' hands reach up until he's holding one of your tits in each hand, thumb nail grazing your nipples with each pass. It's dizzying, maddening. "Fuck," You tilt your head back, can't help the tiny lift and drop of your hips that has James squeezing your tits and groaning, "Hard, Jamie. Please."

He doesn't waste any time. James pulls you forwards, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Uses his free hand to hold your hips in place as he snaps up and into you. The scream that leaves your throat is animalistic, it's pleasure-filled and filthy, like the wet sounds of skin meeting skin that fill the living room as James sets a relentless pace.

The drag of him against your walls is overstimulating, mixed with the chocolate. His thrusts are harsh and deep, his teeth clenched firmly against your nipple. "Fuck, James, I'm gonna come." You grit out, breathy and half moaned.

James releases your nipple, burrows you closer to his shoulder and focusses all his attention on thrusting. It's hard and animalistic and messy and loud and when he hits that one, perfect spot, he has you screaming into the pillows of the couch. You feel yourself gushing until your sleep shorts are soaked, are far too gone to notice fully when James flips you, pulls the sleep shorts down your legs and removes his own pyjama bottoms.

"You okay?" He asks, hands running a soothing path up your legs.

He waits for your nod, your promise that you've never, ever, been better, before he turns you onto your stomach, pulls your hips until you're face down on the couch.

His tongue licks the slick from your centre, a guttural sob escaping you at the feeling of him. It's a sex crazed daze when he slams back into you, hands bruising on your hips. It's deeper, fuller, from this angle and you feel like you might combust. It's deliciously perfect, the mix of want and need from the chocolate, and the way that James slams against your ass cheeks over and over and over.

His cock drags against your walls, squeezing and teasing until he's a moaning mess against your back. He leans over you, warm and body rock solid, pressing you into the couch. Your head tilts sideways to meet him, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, body jutting against yours. Desperate hands grab at the side of your face, prying your mouth open until his fingers can slip inside. He presses harsh against your tongue, cock jamming against every part of you that needs him most and your body seizes again, clenching and gushing all over James as you light on fire. It's euphoric, and James doesn't stop. Fingers slick with your spit, James pulls back, pulls your hips impossibly higher and reaches around until he has two fingers drawing tight circles on your clit.

You see stars, crying and moaning and babbling nonsense and James keeps going. His fingers draw tight circles, his cock slams into every inch of you and suddenly it all doesn't feel enough.

"More, Jamie. Need more." You pant, gripping senselessly at the couch cushions.

James presses a kiss to your tail bone, slows his pace, "So greedy. You've already came three times and you want more?"

You whine, limbs mush when James pulls out and turns you to face him. Your legs wrap around his back on instinct, pulling him closer and he goes. His head juts against your clit, heavy and sensual.

"Please, Jamie."

James has never not given you whatever you wanted and so he complies, thrusts forward so slowly you think you might implode. His hand grips the back of your thigh, pushes until it's resting firmly on his shoulder before pulling almost all the way out. You both watch as he slides slowly back in, revelling in the way your cunt pulls all of him in, swallows him whole. You whine, hips canting upwards and James smiles. "So, so needy."

He slams in and out in one quick motion, steals the very breath from your lungs. Your back arches, the burn of your thigh a delightful pain. James is somehow more relentless, like this, fast and hard and bruising as he meets every single spot you need him to. He uses his free hand to press firmly against your clit, messy and with barely any rhythm but its maddening, still.

It all feels too much, like this. The beads of sweat that fall from him and onto you, his groans and his relentless pace. The feeling of his muscles against you, the darkness of his eyes. It sends you spiralling once again, louder and harder than before, clenching around James until you're trembling uncontrollably.

He lets go of your thigh, falls until he's on top of you, hips jutting once, twice, more, until he's spilling into you. Hot and warm and by the load. He doesn't stop spilling for what feels like forever, the warm spurts a welcomed comfort. It's dirty and hot and you never want to leave this moment.

You lift your hands to trail across James' back and he shudders, pressing kisses to the skin of your tits, tongue darting out to take claim of a nipple that has you whining. "Two minutes. I need two minutes and then I'm going to lick my cum out of you," James whispers, teeth nipping at the skin of your tit, his hips cant upwards and you whine, legs widening so you can feel the slip of his seed down your ass cheeks, "Every last drop. And then we're going to do that again."

You press against him, needy and uncaring. "Please."

You feel his grin, feel the twitch of his cock, still inside you as it starts to ready itself. "And then I'm going to call Sirius and tell him how well his chocolate works."

You can't even bring yourself to protest, not when you can feel James' fingers start to collect his spilled seed from around your hole. So what if Sirius was right? You feel like you've been compensated enough for your troubles.

[raticalshoez]

I just feel the need to get this out there because this has been sitting in my Google Docs brainrot document:

I will always believe that Scar is the saddest, most tragic Life Series character.

I'm unsure whether this is an unpopular opinion or not, but I feel like if I were to ask people who they think the most tragic member is they might say Grian, or Martyn, or Jimmy simply because of #lore implications, but when I'm bored I like to reflect on the Life Series characters and...like...

3rd Life had Grian indebted to Scar, creating a narrative based around loyalty that inevitably had to end in tragedy when they were the last two standing, neither one of them wanting to be to one to lead to the dekise of the other. Everyone knows the origin story of Desert Duo, come on now. I'd argue this is one of Scar's less tragic seasons though because throughout the entire thing, he had the unfaltering loyalty of a person, and that loyalty didn't waver on his end either. One might be tempted to bring up the Bdubs friendship pass, but that was all part of a plan Scar formulated, and Grian just never happened to see the secret message sent to him. All in all, a story of companionship that's only tragic towards the end.

Then, Last Life comes, and he is lonely. People are really quick to point to Joel for being lonely this season, but if anything, I'd describe Joel as manic over just lonely. This whole season, Scar tries to make friends after losing his only one to the curse of a red life. Time and time again he's seen trying to help people, he acts as a life dispenser, and at every turn he us either dismissed and never truly seen as an ally, or he faces death, whether by natural causes or by the hand of another player. In fact, instead of making friends, he seems to make a sworn enemy out of Team BEST. This season is really what kickstarts Scar's progression into being one of the staples of Lonely Characters ™️ of the Life Series, for even his final death is practically alone, with no happy reunions with allies, and no boos from any sworn enemies either.

I could argue this is another case of Scar being faced with lonliness because his once closely knit ally in Grian, has now shown scorn for their new fated bond. Scar is left behind as Grian goes to be with BigB, and out of them two, BigB has the guilt to tell Ren the whole secret soulmate ordeal, but Grian keeps his mouth shut. Scar finds out about the whole situation on his own, bitterly offering gifts for Grian to give, and hanging out with Pearl, the girl who is quite literally the commonly accepted poster child for all aspects of loneliness depicted in the Life Series. In this series, I think Scar gets some sort of closure in Grian and him working together again towards the end of the season, but even so, the two of them die apart, in a way symbolizing the disconnect they had all season long.

Limited Life is quite possibly Scar's happiest season, and therefore I don't really have anything to say about it. I think to some degree, everyone in the Life Series has the ability to be an asshole, and I think every single character is morally grey, and with all that being said I think the person Scar needed most was Cleo. Sure, they enable him to be as chaotic as possible, and yeah, being around Ckeo thus season quite possibly made Scar the snarkiest he's been, but the connection he had with her, and just the Clockers overall was so strong. Yes, there's the whole Etho dad thing, and you could argue that's another tally for Scar's abandonment board, but really, that whole bit has always been more comedic to me than it has been entirely dramatic or angsty.

And everyone knows Secret Life. Once again, Scar finds himself in the role of the lonely merchant, running a shop solo, and constantly trying to make friends, but there is always something stopping him from doing so because something in this world HATES him. Scar doesn't make friends, no, in fact, the Secret Keeper screws him over so much that by the end of this season he is literally embracing the role of a villain. He goes on a killing spree, more successful than he's ever done before, and he finds himself face to face with Pearl, who wants him to take her life. He calls it lame, and not fair because if Pearl's good at the game, she should own it and between me and you personally, I think Scar's just got a soft spot for a fair fight between the last two standing. I think the saddest part of Secret Life is the lack of closure Scar gets because he is the only winner that doesn't get to die and meet in this sort of afterlife where everyone reunites and talks like friends again, as if they all hadn't caused each others' demise. Scar doesn't get that, and is instead stuck in, at least in Martyn's interpretation, an endless loop of pressing that succeed button over and over as he goes mad.

This is a ridiculously long post, but I just NEEDED to get it out of my system. I feel like people could argue the curse of having allies is more tragic because you have to witness their deaths, or you can make the argument that maybe trying to fund the most tragic Life Series character is redundant because with how this game is, everyone is bound to be tragic either way, and to which I say true. I just feel like in a game where it's so natural for people to split up into groups of 3, 4, sometimes even 5, Scar's a character that has ended up alone so many times. It's honestly quite insane. I will always say that Pearl and Joel are the lonely dog girl and lonely dog boy of the series, but if there was ever just...the Lonliest, that title would probably go to Scar.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hi!!! Would it be okay if I requested a worried head cannon for Astarion(Or Wyll or Halsin, I’m fine with any of them) where they lost track of Tav while on a scouting/stealth mission or on the battlefield? Thank you!

A/N: I went with losing track of their Tav on a stealth mission because that seemed the most anxiety-inducing… lol. Poor boys. Sorry, it’s not my best, I was rushing :( 

✧ Losing Track of Their Tav on A Stealth Mission ✧

Astarion: 

The most likely to panic, even though he swears he’d be the last to do so. 

He’s running all the worst-case scenarios through his head: you’ve been killed, you’ve been captured, you’re being enslaved just like he is…

Immediately jumps to the worry that Cazador or someone working for him has realized the two of you are together and plans to get to him through you.

He considers getting one of his companion’s attention but ultimately decides to continue sneaking in alone. He’s pretty good at sneaking, and the others could screw it up. He can’t leave your fate in the hands of someone klutzy like Gale accidentally casting fireball and alerting everyone to their presence. 

If he wasn’t intent on killing anyone in his way, he is now. They mean nothing to him. You mean everything to him. Do the math. You > Them. 

Definitely ends up compromising the mission, by either getting seen and alerting everyone or by causing enough chaos and death that people begin to notice. But none of that matters anymore to Astarion, whose only goal is finding you. Of course, if anyone else was to make that mistake, he’d chew them out for it. But he can’t see how hypocritical he’s being: all he can think about is your safety. 

When he finds you, he masks his fear with anger. He calls you an idiot, a fool- every name in the book. He doesn’t intend to hurt your feelings, he just doesn’t like how his affection for you puts him in a vulnerable place. He was terrified of losing you. The fear of that greatly outweighs the fear of the tadpole. 

He’ll get you away from there, away from everyone else. He can’t trust the strangers of Baldur’s Gate, and he doesn’t want his companions to see him this emotional. 

After the two of you are back to safety, and after he finishes berating you, he yanks you into a tight hug, refusing to let go. 

You tell him you’re sorry, and that it’s over now and you inform him it’s okay to let it out. Be prepared for the shoulder of your top to become soaked in tears. He’ll cry into you, telling you in between sobs how you were the first person in forever to see him as an equal. He needs you. You are the only one who sees him. He can’t lose you. 

After he’s calmed down, he’ll try to lighten the mood with a joke. Something about also being afraid to lose his very own privately stocked food source. Of course, you see right through the facade. You let him feed after that comment anyway, softly petting his hair as he does so. 

And even though normally while feeding, he’d be comforting you, telling you it’s alright, that it’s almost over- you end up comforting him, shushing him, and telling him the two of you will be okay- you’re not going anywhere. 

Wyll: 

Probably the most level-headed in his reaction, even if his thoughts are racing like mad. As the Blade of Frontiers, he’s learned how to think strategically in most situations. Of course, that’s easier said than done when someone you know and love is personally on the line. 

He’s figuring out all the possibilities, working out how likely each one is, in order to figure out which avenues to first explore. 

He continues on his own before remembering he’s not acting solo anymore. He’ll round back to where the others are stationed, and give them the news. He tells them the mission’s priorities have changed, and the goal for now is to find you. 

He doesn’t plan on completely abandoning the original job of course. He intends to get right back to business. He can keep both ideas in his head

Tries his best not to blow the original mission while looking for you. Of course, when push comes to shove, he’s going to choose you. The mission can be tried again at a later time: he can’t lose you. He’s lost too much in this life to accept having to part with another. 

If he has no leads and it's been a while, and he’s growing increasingly nervous, he might consider calling Mizora and asking for her help, even though he knows it’s going to cost him more years of servitude. Having to work for a devil is much more bearable when there’s someone you love. He’d make a thousand deals if it meant you’d stay safe. 

Once he finds you, he’ll quickly ask if you’re alright, before ushering everyone out. He wants nothing more than to speak to you freely, but he knows right then isn't the time to do it. 

After you are safely far enough away, either back at camp, or somewhere secluded, he’ll firmly but kindly demand to know what the hell you were thinking, sneaking off like that?! He wants you to know he was worried, dammit! He loves you! Can’t you see how much losing you would hurt him? 

He’ll take you into his arms and place a soft kiss on your forehead. You are so precious to him. Please, please, he asks, be more careful. 

He vows to be at your side for any future stealth missions. He loves how brave you are, and how much you want to protect him. Just let him protect you in return. 

Halsin: 

Halsin probably reacts the least because he has the most faith that you’ll be okay. He sees you as his savior- a savior of his people, of the grove, of the tieflings- you are the most incredible person to him. 

That being said, he’s not going to simply do nothing if he thinks you’ve run into trouble. You mean so much to him, of course he’s going to change courses and instead go search for you! 

He’s also going to rope the others into helping him. I mean, he’s not forcing them or anything, but he does regroup and tell the others of his concerns. He’s very calm and level-headed, but also quite determined, so the others have few qualms about switching gears and following him. 

He’s also the most adept at staying hidden while looking for you, being able to wild shape into an inconspicuous animal like a cat or a rat or a bird. He uses his druid abilities to his advantage, steering clear of confrontation as he makes a beeline to where your scent takes him. 

Once he finds you, if you yourself haven't been discovered and taken, he’ll stay in animal form, and carefully guide you to a reliable exit. However, if you’ve already been caught, be prepared for things to get hairy. (Get it? Hairy?) 

He will not hesitate to shift into a big-ass bear and rip people’s throats out as he carries you on his back to safety. Even though this makes him a much more large and obvious target, he’ll do it, if it means keeping you protected. Any hits or damage he can take, he can heal from, all the less pain you have to endure. 

He absolutely brings you somewhere outside of the city. He feels safest in nature, and in order to calm down, he needs free-flowing nature, which is hard to come by in Baldur’s Gate.

He’s going to squish you- even if you’re bigger than him. He’ll lay you down gently, before resting on top of you, keeping balanced so that you don’t have to support all of his weight. He needs to be close to you, preferably with skin-to-skin contact. He needs your warmth, your smell, the softness of your skin… It centers him and brings him back down to earth. 

He’ll voice his worries while simultaneously complimenting your skill. He doesn't want you to feel incapable, but he must let you know how he felt in that moment when he feared you were hurt or worse. 

You are his light, you brought him out of the shadows. And he can’t bear to lose you. Please, don’t fade away. Don’t leave him in darkness once more. 

...

Please Like & Reblog!!!

[chuluoyi]

UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 09

✩°｡ ⋆ all done

- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"

in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.

genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, full-blown angst, descriptions of misogynistic behavior, depression

notes: this was a bit hard to write, i ran out of vocabularies *sigh*

listen to: pretender - official hige dandism. this track hits hard after everything :(

series masterlist | next. a death wish

You felt cold. It was hard to breathe. Your heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst from your chest and your ears rang in a deafening crescendo.

Naoya was still laughing his head off. "I must admit, I'm utterly amazed. For a whore, you're remarkably cunning, I give you that."

Megumi spat out, hissing, "What are you talking about? What has she got to do with―"

"Oh but she has everything to do with this! She made deals, bribes, and manipulates the entire voting scheme―for you, or so I've heard!"

Megumi turned towards you. The overwhelming shock hit you like a tidal wave. You wanted to faint.

"Not even you know what she's capable of, it seems," Naoya taunted. "This is why we pick dumb women as wives, so that they can be kept in line."

"Sena," Megumi started, ignoring the manic twat and looking at you in abject disbelief. "What is he saying—" he appeared to make an effort to steady himself but failed, his chest heaving erratically. "—no. Is it true? What he said?"

"Me-Megumi..." you stammered, your body shaking. You felt lightheaded, and you weren't sure if you could offer him a coherent explanation at all. "I-it's not—that's not—!"

At that moment, Megumi could only feel dread. Everything he had known seemed to be nullified by the sight of you trembling before Naoya's blatant accusations.

You had bribed the elders to cast a vote for him instead? How? And why? Then, he caught sight of Gojo in the periphery of his vision, wearing a grim expression, and suddenly, everything fell into place.

Being called back to the Zen'in clan, your marriage, Naoya, why you pushed for him to become the clan head, and Gojo—all of it suddenly converged into a tangled web of understanding that made him freeze in place.

If that was the truth, then—

No, something still doesn't add up.

"But why? Why do you go this far?" he asked then, looking at you right in the eye. "What is your gain through—"

Naoya's cackles then filled his eardrums, and at that moment he realized that the bastard was the entire reason.

"You didn't want to marry him," he uttered in a low tone, slowly understanding. His heart hammered in his chest, each possible reasoning made him even more scared to find the ultimate truth. "It started from that, and Gojo-sensei—"

There was always a reason behind Gojo's actions. Even when he made it seem like he was acting on a whim, there was always a justifiable motive. Including adopting him. Megumi had suspected it even though he never said it out loud—he was still the best bargaining chip to the Zen'in after all. They had desired him, and the only reason they couldn't acquire him was Gojo's influence.

Which meant, from the very beginning, his return was also orchestrated through Gojo himself. In the right place and time, he could use him to exert control over Zen'in altogether. Megumi was too blinded with the prospect of releasing Tsumiki from her curse, and he took advantage of that.

"The two of you..." he trailed off. His heart pounded so hard that it was painful to even breathe, and he shuddered. This was too much.

His wife and his savior.

You and Gojo had wanted to put him up as Zen'in puppet clan head because you two had goals that only through him was achievable.

"Megumi!" Your frantic voice made him look up to you. "Please listen to me—"

He might have understood Gojo's ambitions. But you? How could you still go through with the plan to make him a clan head, even after knowing how he never wanted it in the first place?

Even though he has fallen in love with you? And you have fallen in love with him in return?

"I can't believe you," was the first thing that came out of his mouth. The sting of betrayal burned his chest, setting it aflame and engulfing him whole. "You are using me. All this time."

Tears pooled in your eyes, and he looked away. He couldn't bear to look at you at this moment.

There was no use to entertain the whole load of crappy Zen'in shitheads here any longer. This place was suffocating, so were your and Gojo's existences. He couldn't be here a second longer.

Megumi took resolute strides to depart from this wretched place.

"Megumi!" You were right behind him, calling out his name. He quickened his pace, refusing to look back.

"Please!" you begged. "I can explain! Please hear me out!"

He halted abruptly, nearly causing you to collide into him. Swiftly, he turned around to confront you, his expression strangely composed yet intimidating. It was the first time you had witnessed him this furious.

"Then explain," he coldly said.

"I—!" You went rigid, but you willed yourself to be calm. This moment was finally upon you. You owed him this, at the very least.

The intensity of his gaze, filled with a palpable sense of resentment and suspicion, made you feel nauseated. Even at this moment, your head throbbed, and you struggled to remain upright.

"I made a binding vow with Gojo," you began, and your heart shattered as you saw him shut his eyes and clench his fists. Witnessing him in such agony pained you deeply. "I turned to him after my father said I'd be married off to Naoya. I had no other choice, my father bound me to another vow to marry a Zen'in. You were still one by blood. I did it to free my mother—and for a chance of a better marriage."

Hearing it directly from you only fueled his rage. Megumi scowled. "It must have been fun to toy with someone's life and feelings. I didn't even have to be dragged into this, and yet you manipulated me into it."

"No, it wasn't!" you vehemently fired back. "I felt really, really guilty. But at the same time, I dreaded the day of you knowing. It’s unfair to you, I-I know."

"If you know that, you should have told me from the very beginning." Megumi's tone was harsh, unforgiving. "That way we could've settled it with a divorce and end it at that."

You whimpered as you struggled to hold back your sobs. This time, your own heart was the one shredded in pieces.

"I—" you choked on your own words, feeling your eyes welling up with oncoming tears. "I'm sorry. I-I'm really sorry, Megumi. I didn't mean to deceive you... Really..."

"If you were in my position, how would you feel?" he challenged, his anger still simmering. "Knowing that maybe, all of this—" he gestured into the empty space for emphasis, "—is built on deception. Realizing that the woman you love and the person you look up to were conspiring solely for their own benefit, never considering your feelings, and instead manipulating you like a pawn. How would you feel?"

His words struck a chord, and you cried harder, unable to give him a response.

"At least tell me this." Megumi fixed his gaze on you, and you noticed that he, too, had the beginnings of tears in his eyes. "From the beginning to the end, is that how you always see me? A means to your goals? Do you even love me at all?"

"I love you!" Amidst your clogging tears and the searing pain in your chest, that was one thing you could say with absolute certainty. "I love you. I love you, Megumi. After my mother died, I—really don't have anything left to live. I lost everything. You... when you said that you were going to stay with me then… I was so happy. It was the happiest I've ever been in my life."

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, voice quivering. "If t-there's nothing you can believe anymore... then, please, just believe this: I love you, Fushiguro Megumi."

"That's... just too convenient," he whispered, his voice tinged with a touch of brokenness as well. You wept at his answer. "After all this, how can I?"

He pondered all the moments you had shared together, and his chest tightened with the weight of the betrayal. Despite your straightforward confession, he found it hard to fully accept it at face value.

In his eyes, everything you said, did, or even looked like from that point onwards seemed like nothing but lies. You were suddenly the worst person to him.

"The fact remains that you used my feelings for your own gains." His words stabbed through your heart like a dagger. "If you really love me—why did you push your luck by getting me to be installed as the clan head? You know damn well I don't want that shit in the first place."

"That's—!"

“How did you even do that? What did you promise Zen’in Ogi and the rest of them so that you could make me—win this fucking thing?”

You suddenly felt shame all over. “They already dislike Naoya. I just—I just took advantage of that…”

“Right, that’s what you do best,” Megumi bitterly spat, and you flinched. “What will they gain if I come out as the victor? There’s more to that.”

“T-They… can drive Naoya away, and you… they simply want you because of your Ten Shadows Technique.”

He drew in a sharp breath. “You’re selling me off to them. That’s precisely what you are doing.”

“Me-Megumi…” The torrent of tears made you shiver. Now everything was out in the open, and even you couldn’t help but cringe at it. You were a cruel human being. “But trust me, I—”

“Did you plan all of this?” His eyes scorched yours, and you felt like this was the moment of truth. “Or was this Gojo’s doing and you were just going along with him?”

“I… he—it was one of the conditions of our binding vow—”

“Answer me. Yes or no.” Megumi attempted to steady himself, feeling his own composure wavering. The gravity of the situation rested on your response. If it wasn’t you, he might still find it in him to forgive you, he might still—

Your intensified weeping revealed the truth before any words could convey, however.

“Me… It’s all m-me...”

This was his last straw.

Your cries still hung in the air. “But Megumi! Please believe me when I said—”

"It's no use," he interjected, his gaze pierced and tore through you. "You don't have to say anything more. I can't find it in me to believe anything you say at this point."

"M-Megumi..." His frigid tone sliced through your tears, rendering you speechless and unable to articulate your thoughts. "P-Please..."

He abruptly spun on his heels and started to walk away. Panic surged within you, and a lump formed in your throat. Desperately, you reached out and grasped his arm tightly.

Megumi forcefully wrenched your hand off him, casting you a stern glare, fiery intensity that conveyed his resolute anger.

"Don't," he rasped. "It's done. We are done. I don't want to see you ever again."

With those words, he left you in utter devastation, in the middle of the gardens of Zen'in estate—the very same place he led you to during your wedding day.

Sobs wracked your whole body as you watched his retreating back. You had known that this day would come. You had known that your time with him was limited, with how you kept this terrible secret and played him like a fool. You know that, deep down, you know it—

Yet it hurts. So much. It really hurts. It felt like someone carved your chest open and brought your heart out for everyone to see. Every second was a scorching ache that made you want to chase after him desperately, but your broken heart tethered on your conscience, willing you back as you knew what was the best for him.

At the end of the day, it’s your fault. As you sunk to the numbness that overtook you, you began to realize that.

Three days later, everything still felt totally fresh out of a nightmare.

Megumi had left the apartment. He only went back once after the second hearing to grab a few things and that was it. Even when he was this furious, he didn’t drive you out of his place and instead, he was the one who left.

These days felt like a living hell. You barely ate, slept and did what any normal people did to survive. This time, you faced your sorrows alone, and you were drowning fast. The headache, queasiness, and sense of worthlessness that overwhelmed you lately didn’t help, if anything, it worsened your grief.

This time, you really hoped the earth would just swallow you whole, so that you would be freed from this pain.

You remembered how you desperately tried to explain yourself before him. You lamented to yourself bitterly—what could have you said anyway? Trust me, I love you. This is all for you? Such words wouldn’t make any difference. The fact remained that you played him like a fool, steering the destiny of his life with your own hands.

Nevertheless, you still had a life to live. And Naoya was still there, with the looming threat of his duel. You had to prevent that from happening somehow. Knowing Megumi, he would most likely ditch him, but seeing the current situation, Naoya wouldn’t let him go easily.

That was it. The final act you could do for him. You had enough of this and it was debt you were due of. You would release Megumi from the Zen’in clutches, and if you were lucky enough, you would bring Naoya down with you.

next : a death wish

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[coralinnii]

I saw your request were open and got super excited so here’s my request it’s kind of long so I hope you don’t mind

So the idea is that the beast people have mates and you can feel your partner through the bond and it’s not obvious or some kind of communication link, but you can feel that they’re there, and when you see them you know that’s your mate, like that’s who you’re meant to spend your life with. But Leona has never been able to feel the other side of the bond like he was supposed to. And that was just one more thing his brother had that he didn’t. And then all the sudden one day he can feel some thing on the other side of his bond (when the prefect is magically, transported to twisted wonderland) And when he finally see them he know that they are his mate

And congrats on 2.7

❋ We finally meet ❋

↳ Leona finally meeting his soulmate

feat: Leona

genre: hurt/comfort, open happy ending(?)

note: no pronouns used with the reader, Leona is an emotionally constipated jerk (I’m sorry), follows game-canon storyline through Book 3

I genuinely did not think this would be as sad as I thought, but Leona… he got some issues… and I have met people like him which I actually took inspiration from…so I really am sorry. I still hope you enjoy it

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Just like many things, Leona grew to give up on this fated partner drivel. The world kept screwing him over, so it’s better to not bother with trying, right?

Until now…

The fateful orientation at NRC occured. Leona awoke from his nap as he sensed a new warm sensation in his chest, as though his entire being was burning with excitement.

Leona knew it, the moment he saw you. He didn’t have to ask or second guess this primal instinct. The spark burst in his chest as the beastman watched you stumble about in this new world, his world. The beastly side within him roared within, finally meeting his fated partner.

Leona was…angry. He truly wouldn’t be happy at first. Leona was fine not having the bond after so long, but he has to accept that he does now? Not once did Leona feel the pull of a bond or even a spark of such a feeling as described by those lucky b*stards. Was he supposed to forget all about his feelings of frustration when he as a beastman couldn’t feel this so-called bond that was so natural to others.

What frustrated Leona more was that you weren’t a beastman, you weren’t even a person of this world. You probably never had to go through the bitterness as he did, seeing his brother and so many others find their fated mate so easily while he couldn’t even comprehend what that could feel like.

He knew it wasn’t in your control, but he wasn’t going to be alright with this convenient bullsh*t of a happy ending.

The lion ignored you, he wanted nothing to do with you. He fought against his very instincts because he refused to have expectations anymore. So what if you were his fated mate? It’s too much of a bother to take care of a clueless herbivore.

But alas, Leona sometimes couldn’t stop himself as he gave into his natural connection with you. Despite meddling in his schemes, he felt no hate towards you, even when he tried to. When you needed a place to stay after being kicked out from Ramshackles, he surprised even himself to let you stay in his room.

Sometimes he growls at you, but then keeps you close like a protective guard. Leona feigned indifferent to your attempts to befriend him, but just as those annoying beastmen b*stards said, he felt drawn to you as though his world became weightless with your presence.

This complicated story finally reached its crescendo when you couldn’t handle this confusing hot-and-cold game, breaking down in front of him.

“Do you hate me, Leona?”

You found Leona in his usual napping spot in the greenhouse, because of course he would be there. Sometimes, he would grumble and tell you to leave him in peace. But on rare occasions, the beastman would roll to his side as the two of you enjoy each other’s company, sometimes in silence, other rarer times bantering.

But that was the problem.

“I don’t know what to do,” you steeled your voice with all your might but the cracks in your tone exposed the raw frustration you were feeling. “Sometimes you treat me so well and I feel really safe with you, but then other times I feel like you resent my very existence!”

You felt it too. Since you came into this strange world, you’ve seen and experienced things you once thought inconceivable. It took a while but you will through your new life and you were actually having fun in this loony situation. Except, whenever you saw Leona...

“Some days, all I could think about is you.” You confessed in tears, embarrassment be damned. “I want to be around you, like I feel this pull to be by your side. I feel so happy when I’m with you, but it tears me apart whenever you act like you can’t stand me.”

To be rejected by your soulmate is akin to getting a part of your heart being crushed, that connection between the two of you is tearing at the seams and along with it, a piece of yourself. You were going insane as a part deep inside you was begging to stay with the stubborn beastman, but was all this pain really worth it?

“What can I do?” Do you let him go, or fix whatever is wrong with this relationship? You didn’t care what you had to do, you just wanted this pain to finally leave you. “Tell me, Leona. Anything”

But Leona didn’t say a word. His piercing green eyes just watched you, showing no hint of his thoughts. The only betrayal of his unreadable expression was the way his eyebrows furrow as he saw your tear-stricken face and your body shaking from pained rage.

The beastman’s body was still, before he sighed as he lost his internal fight with his primal instincts. His arm reached out to you, pulling your shaking body towards him as he forced you to lay under the shady tree, pushing your head that - to his annoyance - fit so perfectly under his chin, resting atop his shoulder.

“I’ll explain later. For now, sleep. You’re a mess” you wanted to hit him, argue whose fault it was for all this. But your body felt compelled to curl into this insufferable man’s warmth. His scent irritatingly eased your frustrations as his arm warped around you almost protectively, almost like you were something precious to him.

“You’re awful, Leona” you let out a last stab at the senior before surrendering to sleep. Leona smirked sardonically, not the least bit angered by your weak attempt at an insult, even without being overwhelmed by the feeling the sensation of satisfaction having his fated beloved finally in his arms.

“I am, huh?”

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie hated the idea of it, but he couldn't stop himself. He needed to help them. He cut the rope and ran outside to buy them more time, ignoring Dustin's screams. Just as he ran out there, he saw a light coming towards him. It was running at him. He realized it was Steve, holding a flaming torch above his head. When got to the trailer, he slammed the torch into the ground.

"I knew you were going to do something stupid," Steve said.

He walked over to him, kneeling at his stomach and tossed Eddie over his shoulder like a bag of flour. Eddie shrieked, but he wasn't going to complain about the view. Eddie looked up awkwardly as Steve started to walk into the trailer.

"Steve! The bats are dying!" Eddie yelled.

"See? You didn't have to do anything," Steve said.

Once he he walked in, he set Eddie on the ground but kept a hand firmly on him.

"What about Robin and Nancy?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, me and Robin are telepathically connected," Steve replied. "Yeah, they're on their way back."

"What?! How are you - ?!"

"Russians," Steve explained as he started to tie the rope back together.

"Yes, because that explains everything," Eddie said sarcastically.

"Get your ass back through the gate," Steve told him, his hands on his hips.

Eddie's cheeks turned red. Damn it. He liked that. He swallowed and climbed through the fate where Dustin was waiting for him with his arms crossed.

"You scared the shit out of me," Dustin said.

Steve climbed back through the gate, landing safely on the other side. He stood with his hands on his hips, staring at Eddie and ready to give him a talking to.

"Sit," Steve said, pointing towards the couch.

"Yes, Daddy," Eddie said, not missing the way Steve’s eyes darkened.

"Eddie! That's not how you use that sarcastic remark like that. It's 'yes, dad'," Dustin scoffed. "Daddy is what three year olds say."

"My bad," Eddie smirked.

"Your room now!" Steve exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You are in so much trouble," Dustin laughed.

Steve pushed Eddie into his room and slammed the door behind them.

"So, how did you know that I would do that?" Eddie asked.

"Because it's what I would have done. It's what I did. The first time I got involved, I ran, but then I turned back and faced down a full-grown demogorgon. Later, I used myself as bait to protect the kids. The point is that I did all that because I felt guilty about Barb, and I know that's probably what you must be feeling. I mean, I know that it wasn't my fault and that I have nothing to prove. Eddie, it wasn't your fault what happened to Chrissy, and you have nothing to prove to anyone," Steve said softly.

Eddie smiled at him, his eyes soft and his cheeks pink. He raised his hands and cupped Steve’s face, brushing his thumbs across his cheekbones. Eddie kissed him softly. Eddie froze when he didn't feel him kiss back, and he thought that he screwed up for a moment. Steve slid his arms around him and started kissing him back, deepening the kiss. Eddie grinned when Steve slipped his tongue into his mouth. Eddie broke the kiss.

"Guess you really liked it when I called you Daddy?" Eddie whispered in his ear.

"Shut up," he hissed.

When they finally came out of Eddie's room, their hair was messed up and their lips were swollen.

"Oh, man, your face looks so red, Eddie. Steve must have chewed you out really good," Dustin laughed.

"Oh, yeah, he gave me a good tongue lashing," Eddie grinned.

"Seriously?" Steve asked.

Suddenly, Robin and Nancy were falling through the roof, the gate closing behind them.

"Hey, I don't appreciate the pornographic images you put in my head, Steven," Robin said. "Think about the ladies when I put up my shields!"

"Pornographic images? When would he have - " Dustin said, and then his eyes widened in realization. "Oh my god!"

[pumpkinbxtch]

:D omg, you are going to make me addicted to apolo, the man cries out to be loved, a request for the favor of our dear apolo (in devinart there was a farm where the reader dated leo but he cheated on her with calypso, then the He realizes that he made the worst mistake of his life, seeing that because of calypso he was attracted but he loved the reader)How does Leo react when he discovers that his ex-girlfriend, whom he still loves, is now Apollo's partner(fiancee) pleeeees

i'm a loser.・゜-: ✧ :-

leo valdez x fem!reader x apollo

summary: Leo realizes that he messed it up a little... well no, he totally screwed up. And now he's going for you, he's going to tell you that he loves you, that you should be together for the rest of your lifes oooh, wait. Are you married with Apollo? THE GOD APOLLO? warnings: THIS IS SO LONG, HAHA but another one? mmm nope, i don't think so. a/n: yeaaaah, the concept you gave me is so hilarious, i love it. Leo is literally my boyfriend but making him suffer makes me laugh, it's like YES DAMN CRY FOR ME, but whatever. i was even inspired by that song by my beloved Beatles. i hope you like it.

w/c: 2.617 (the longest I've done so far, followed by "lovelorn")

Apollo wanted to laugh, he really wanted to, but he had learned not to make fun of other people's shit, but damn, could you blame him? He definitely never thought that Leo Valdez was an opponent for him, don't get him wrong, he was saying it because he likes him. (really) and helped him during his mission, but there, standing from his palace on Olympus, he could see everything, including if someone was threatening against you, his wife.

Flames rose as Leo threw the map into the air in fury, totally frustrated in Festus. He couldn't find you, in fact, Apollo kept wondering how he was tracking you, but he didn't seem to want to answer that question. No, or he would end his patience, yes, he had appreciation for the Son of Hephaestus, but when they messed with you, he would lose his mind immediately, or worse, try to get into their relationship? He would be in charge of throwing Leo from the Mount Olympus.

Of course, he wasn't afraid, much less jealous, but he knew what the relationship with Leo had meant to you. You were totally in love, even Apollo knows that you would have married him if only Leo hadn't screwed things up, and boy did he do it big.

He mean, cheating on you with the now ex-sorceress Calypso? Oh, man. Who the fuck would cheat on you? Hmm, yes, Leo Valdez.

The main doors of the palace opened and Apollo dissolved the image. Some murmurs were heard, followed by footsteps heading towards the main throne room, it was definitely you.

— Apollo?—  He heard the doors opening, and he stood in front of the fire, he didn't want to lie to you, but he couldn't interfere either, he knew that would make you upset. The footsteps approached and he felt you take his arm. — Apollo!— 

He looked at you and feigned surprise. He raised both hands in welcome and cradled your face with them before giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. — My beautiful wife.

You closed your eyes when his lips touched yours, and you smiled tenderly.

— Dear husband — You said in a soft mocking tone. You used to do it when Apollo couldn't help but sound so… posh. But to tell the truth, he filled you with joy.

He ran his fingers over your forehead, removing some baby hairs, and made a golden wreath of laurels appear on the crown of your head. He always spent his time adorning you and making you feel loved, you loved him.

Then, Apollo forced himself to blow out the bubble.

— Do you want something, dear?

— I know we're on… — your cheeks turned pink — the honeymoon, but I need to go to Camp Jupiter.

Your pleading eyes, damn, not even Zeus would dare say no to you. Then, he realized what was happening. Apollo tried to hide the realization from himself, but that name began to swirl in his mind; The Fates. Those antiques would hear about him.

—The honeymoon is an old concept, with traditions that we really don't take so… literally anymore —Apollo said as he gently ran his fingers over your blushing cheeks. —So, you know you can come and go whenever you want. I'm not like my uncle Hades.

The blonde giggled, and you poked his arm, making him jump.

— Apollo!

— My love!

You looked at him with a frown, and he smiled even more, trying to push aside all those thoughts where you could get hurt.

It was a fact, you were going to meet Leo at Camp Jupiter, and he wouldn't be able to do anything.

He caressed your face once more and turned, walking to the large window of the great room.

You felt bad leaving him alone, you didn't want to leave him like that, but you were in the last semesters of your degree. Yes, you were on vacation, but you had to leave some paperwork behind.

— I won't take a second.

Apollo let out a short laugh, full of knowledge. He knew it would take you at least a day and a half to get back to him. He turned to you and walked slowly.

—Just come back to me, dear.

Your eyes shone, and you walked the distance he needed to close the distance between you. You took his hands and kissed his knuckles.

— Always.

He turned his hands so that he was the one holding yours now and made a wedding ring appear on your ring finger. When you looked at the diamond, you raised your eyebrow and your look became amused.

—Do you mark your territory?

Apollo smiled and kissed your forehead.

— In case some fool hasn't heard the great news that I am your husband.

The fool was Leo, yes. Apollo said it for him, if not, for who else?

Your husband had done you a favor and made you appear right at the entrance to Camp Jupiter, advantages of a god making you his wife. When the campers guarding the doors saw you, they immediately opened it for you.

You excused yourself and made your way towards New Rome, in fact, you hesitated whether to go there first or go say hello or… If you would meet them anyway near the university.

You walked to the limit.

You loved New Rome, it was definitely home to you, at least when you had to stay on campus during the semester. But to live the rest of your life there would also have been pleasant, although Mount Olympus wasn't bad.

You made your way and some looked at you. So, you quickened your pace, you didn't like to attract a lot of attention like that.

You moved quickly towards the university and found the campus. Blessed be the gods.

You clutched the papers to your chest and walked.

— HEY!

You turned around slowly, not really wanting any questions. But you turned completely around when you saw Frank holding hands with Hazel, trying to reach you.

— GUYS!

They both caught up to you and smiled hungrily. They wanted to hug you, but they backed out at the last moment, which made you frown.

— What was that?

Frank started babbling and Hazel laughed nervously.

—Can we hug you?

You laughed and threw yourself at both of them, so you hugged at the same time. — You fools, I'm the same as always. Just how married and that's it.

Frank denied. — WITH APOLLO

Hazel punched him in the belly, making him double over. The three of you laughed, and then she looked at you nervously.

—Have you seen anyone else? —She asked. You denied.

— I figured Percy and Annabeth would be in New York for the holidays. Nico and Will, Camp Half-Blood, Jason finishing his accounting for the new altars. Piper, in Oklahoma… — You made loops with your hand and thought if you had forgotten someone.

Hazel looked at Frank, and he encouraged her to say whatever had them both acting that way.

Hazel sighed.

—Leo arrived in the morning.

Your expression did not change at all, a reaction that your friends had not expected.

— AND?

Frank scratched the back of his neck nervously. — He is actually searching for you.

Then your eyebrows raised, showing your confusion.

— what? — You snorted. You looked for any sign that it was a joke, but there was none. — So? Do I owe him money?

Hazel laughed nervously and shook her head.

— I think he's looking for you because he wants to fix things with you.

— He's desperate —  Frank agreed.

You laughed sarcastically.

—But he knows that I'm already married, right?

— Apparently… no one told him.

— What? — You asked again, raising your voice a little more. Both exchanged nervous glances. You mean, how far is Indianapolis? — Wait, he was with Calypso, he literally cheated on me with her because he said she was the love of his life.

The two of them raised their shoulders and you scoffed.

—Anyway, I'll leave these documents and go off to enjoy what's left of the vacation. Apollo waits for me. Will you accompany me?

Damn, the three of you were about to enter when you heard someone call your name, then Hazel's and finally Frank's, he was definitely the one who turned around, consequently forcing you and Hazel to do the same.

What your eyes saw were priceless. It was Leo running across campus with half his shirt burned and a desperate expression. Your heart raced, and your feet wanted to run away, instead, you stayed still and speechless.

—You are seeing the same thing, right?

Your friends nodded.

—He wasn't like this when we last saw him— Hazel said, forcing a smile and shaking her hand at Leo.

Leo had stopped at Camp Jupiter for supplies, also to check that you weren't there, and you definitely weren't there when he arrived, but rumors spread fast. You wondered if your ex-boyfriend had heard about why everyone was whispering about your arrival, but it seemed like not, or at least he seemed to ignore it.

And so it was.

Fate, the planets, and the stars aligned to ensure that Leo was ignorant about it, so that you would be the one to deal the final blow.

Things with Calypso didn't work out, why? Leo couldn't get you off his mind. Oh, what had he done? He literally cried like a baby when he realized he still loved you. He loved you, you loved him, so as always, he had to screw up.

Leo ran harder; He was taller, a little stockier, and his curls were fluffier than ever. Everything you used to worship was probably just a shadow of its former self. You weren't saying that he was bad, but you definitely no longer felt anything for him, although you couldn't help but feel a tug in your tummy full of melancholy, pain, and anger.

You had already forgiven him, but his recklessness made you want to kill him.

With little breath, Leo crouched down in front of you, grabbing his knees and looking for air.

You took a step back, your face dripping with confusion.

Hazel and Frank looked at him disapprovingly.

—I've been looking for you—he finally said.

— That's what I heard.

Leo stood up and wanted to hug you. To your surprise, you didn't stop him. You missed your friend Leo Valdez. Not your cheating ex-boyfriend, Leo Valdez.

Frank and Hazel screamed and became nervous.

—I've missed you.— He said, breathing softly, taking in pinches of your scent.

Your heart clenched and you forced yourself to smile.

—Me too, Leo.

That gave him courage. He broke the hug and gently took you by the arms.

— I was wrong… — His brown eyes projected remorse and sorrow. — I was seriously wrong, I shouldn't have…

The son of Hephaestus took a deep breath.

— I betrayed your trust. I put your love aside to think that my place was with someone else, but what a jerk… My place has always been with you. You are the one I love the most. Please forgive me …

Those words, as you would have liked to hear them so long ago, but now they were slipping over you, completely meaningless.

—Leo…

— Please! Give me another chance.

His plea resonated, drawing the attention of some residents. They took it as just a student love situation until they saw you. Oh shit, weren't you the wife of the great Apollo?

— Leo, you see… No. We can't have another chance.

Leo's heart beat so fast that he felt like it would jump out of his heart. He held you a little tighter and leaned down.

He was going to kiss you.

— No! — Hazel gasped and Frank hid behind her.

People around the campus seemed on the edge of their seats, they even plead the gods for Apollo didn't appear out of nowhere and incinerate them all. The god was definitely struggling to control his breathing from the palace. Where did his Yoga classes go? Someone meditate with him, please! He wanted to hang Leo.

You put a hand on Leo's lips, and he felt something cold. You slowly pushed him away with a frown on your face.

— I said no.

You turned your hand and revealed the glow of the diamond to his view. The Sun made it look ethereal because, well, it was.

Leo's soul fell at his feet, and he shook his head in confusion.

—I don't… I don't understand.

— I'm married, Leo. I married someone. Did you think I would be heartbroken since you 

cheated on me with Calypso? That I will wait for you? — You snorted and pushed him gently.

— But with who?! Who the fuck-

You put your hand over his mouth again and shook your head.

—Don't do that.— You sighed brokenly and tried to do it delicately. If you named Apollo, everything could go to Tartarus. —He considers you for helping him during his mission as a mortal.

The gossipers laughed, some adults denied indignantly, and their friends, shit, Frank was almost having a heart attack fearing that Apollo would burn Leo to ashes.

—Apollo? —He said, with even greater confusion.

The god was still clinging to the edge of his throne, expectant.

You looked above and came to the conclusion that he was giving your ex-boyfriend a break. That action fell like a bucket of cold water on the son of Hephaestus.

He walked away from you.

— what?

You turned your gaze and caressed his cheek kindly. — I don't hold a grudge against you, Leo. I loved you so much. But I found someone who did not doubt his love for me and without thinking wanted to grow with me.

The boy shook his head and stumbled as he relented, leaving your hands suspended in the air. A gust of sweet air embraced them in that silent moment.

He let you go and thought he might have you back.

You were his friend, his confidant, and the love of his life, yet he let you go.

He disguised his doubts with bad jokes, dishonest touches, and lies.

How could he have been so stupid?

Haha, there goes the idiot that lost the love of his life to a god.

How could a love like the one you used to possess lose?

Look at me, then, Leo said to himself.

You returned with Apollo and your nerves were overwhelming you. This time you felt so distant to the palace, as if you were not worthy to enter. Still, they received you and welcomed you.

— is in his room.

You thanked and headed to the bedroom. Taking care not to be noisy and watch your steps. 

Being at the foot of the entrance, the door opened and revealed your husband. Smiling?

Apollo opened the door and pulled you into the room. You couldn't help but laugh.

Your clothing magically changed upon entering, your modern clothes replaced by a white robe edged with gold. Your hair now adorned with laurels and golden jewels.

The jingle of jewelry amidst your loved one's laughter seemed like the most exquisite sound to you. He held you in his arms and hid her face in the crook of your neck. 

You stroked his fluffy blonde curls.

— Welcome.

He said, bumping his forehead against yours.

—  Did you miss me?—  You said with humor. Apollo kissed your lips, instantly making you feel disoriented. He traced your cheek, your chin, and your neck. Kissed you behind your ear and hummed.

— I know I told you it would be fine if you went, but gods, how I missed you. Don't leave me the rest of your holidays.

You nodded.

That was your home.

[qierxing]

A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. (checks calendar) Uhm, happy three month update to this series AND 1k notes on the first part! I would say sorry for the wait, but I really did need it LOL. Anyway, it's not super obvious, but the timeline is a bit all over the place in this part, because I'm jumping back and forth between past and present.

TW/CW: Immolation, violence, implied stalking+actual stalking, obsessive behavior, mild psychological and body horror, toxic relationships, Yuu uses it/its pronouns, we get a little meta in here, the boys are FIGHTINGGG I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader

“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”

“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar, sternly. “Explain yourself!”

“I ca’n’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir,” said Alice, “because I am not myself, you see.”

— Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll

vi. Mourning

It is incredibly hard to get Yuu alone.

Whether it be by the forces of fate or just because so many vie for their attention, there is rarely, if ever, any time when someone is able to spend time personally alongside them. The only exception to this rule is Grim, who was practically the player's companion from the beginning.

So when Ace Trappola manages a rare chance to snag some one on one time with Yuu, he guns for it. Course, he had to time it perfectly. 

It was just another night like any other. Ace and Deuce decided to come over to hang out for a casual sleepover as usual. The four of them did initially start out studying, before the textbooks and worksheets were being abandoned in favor of more exciting things, such as the deck of cards that Ace brought with him.

Sending Deuce and Grim off to get snacks through a won bet over a card game was easy as pie.

"Hey Ace?" 

He hums in response, letting Yuu know he's listening. His nimble fingers shuffle the worn cards, flipping through them with practiced ease. Stacking them up quickly, he wonders if he should try to impress Yuu with another card trick to gain their enthralled praise.

"Do you…like…being my friend?"

The question makes him blink and look up in surprise at Yuu. It feels blasphemous to hear such doubt lingering in their words.

"Why? Scared I'm gonna ditch ya?" He teases.

Yuu doesn't respond, only giving a sheepish smile back. 

"I-It's not like I don't like being friends with you." He tries to keep his cool. "I just-"

Yuu's smile doesn't falter. "It's okay, Ace."

He's reminded of his previous girlfriend in middle school. It was more of a fling than a serious thing, but it's something he remembers vividly. Their breakup, after all, was rather dramatic.

"You're too much, Ace. Sometimes you just take it too far." 

What was even her name? Elizabeth? He could barely even remember, but for some reason, he still recalls the intense way her face was twisted in burning resentment. He tried to bury it in the past. He swore he would never fall in love or get into another relationship, preferring friendships over any kind of romantic trysts.

Now that he looks at Yuu, he already knows he's screwed up big time.

Yuu's gaze is no longer meeting his, instead staring into the fireplace that Grim had so generously set up earlier. The crackling blue flames reflect in their irises and in that moment, dread curls inside Ace's stomach. Yuu doesn't seem right.

"Hey…you okay?" He asks hesitantly, placing a hand on their shoulder.

Yuu doesn't move, still staring at the fire intently. He opens his mouth to ask again, but then they speak.

"If I wasn't acting like myself, would you still like me?" 

Another question out of left field. 

"Even if you somehow grow anemones on your head, Yuu's still Yuu, right?" His heart swells in pride at the way their lips quirk at his inside joke. 

"Yeah…" they murmur back. 

"Wanna see somethin' cool?" he says, holding out a card. Yuu tilts their head questioningly.

"It's the ace of hearts. What about it?"

"It's not just the ace of hearts!" Ace puffs out his cheeks. "Don't you know the meaning of this card?"

Yuu shakes their head.

"It means good news for yourself or someone close. Practically a lucky charm!" Ace waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "So how can things go wrong now that you have me?"

Yuu snorts and shoves him playfully. "Yeah, yeah, okay, Mr. Lucky Charm."

But it works. The foggy clouds clear from Yuu's eyes, finally returning them to the familiar luster he's used to. For the rest of the night, there is no hint of hollowness within them. And Ace hopes he will never see that sight again.

-

He should've known something was up since that night.

When Headmaster Crowley personally makes an appearance at their dorm, he should've realized it then. If there was anything that the old raven hated more, it was having to do more work than usual. 

"That person wasn't an imposter." Crowley says, coughing awkwardly into his fist.

The solemn words echo in his head on end. The rest of the Headmaster's words start to tune out for Ace. Automatically, his legs begin to move on their own. The calls of the others chase after him, but he ignores them, racing out of the lounge and towards the mirror portal.

Because if you didn't hurt Yuu-

-then what had he done?

When he first arrived in NRC, he didn't even know that Ramshackle dorm existed. Not until Yuu came to reside there; until he had to beg for shelter from them when he was chained with that damn collar. He knew that they didn't have to take him in. But they did, and maybe that's why Ace couldn't turn his back after that. 

The building before him is no longer the broken down hovel that he remembers back then. He remembers how the roof was almost caving in and wooden beams were always in danger of collapsing. Each knock on the entrance doors would send cascades of dust upon his head. Now, the walls are painted with a fresh coat of paint, the roof has new shingles, and the place actually looks like a house you could safely live in. 

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Prefect! Are you there?!" He yells, desperation leaking into his voice. "Please!"

Bang! Bang!

He's gotta be out of his damn mind, acting like some crazy person. But he can't help but be blinded by his fear. So he keeps hitting the door with his fists, praying, hoping, for…well that someone would open the door.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Yuu!!" He screams, and his voice echoes around him, mocking his helplessness. His fists are becoming numb from slamming the wood so hard, but he can't stop himself.

"Yuu–!"

"Oi! Ace!!!" A rough hand on his shoulder shoves him back and before he could knock the souvnabit-

"Ace, look at me!"

He's stopped by Deuce's fists meeting his in an even match of strength. Like an illusion broken, Ace stills and yanks his hands back.

There's only heavy breathing in between them for a long while. 

"...they're not here." Ace snaps to look at Deuce, who only closes his eyes in a painful grimace.

"What do you mean, 'not here'?" Ace asks.

Deuce doesn't say anything for a beat.

"What do you mean they're–"

"They're in the infirmary." Deuce's words flow out in a breathless rush. "The Headmaster said that after you ran."

Fuck, he just acted like an idiot then. No wonder no one was responding to his absolute earth shattering door banging and yelling. Then the meaning of Deuce's words begin to sink in. Oh Seven, no–

He turns and before he could even step in the direction of the main building, his arm is yanked back.

He snarls at Deuce. "Let me go! I have to see the prefect!"

"Housewarden is calling you back." Deuce forces out through gritted teeth and closed eyes. "The Headmaster said that…they don't want to see anyone."

And like a fire put out, Ace's anger chokes to flickering embers.

He lets Deuce guide him back, all the way from the Ramshackle dorm, to the mirror portal, and then back to Heartslabyul's lounge where the other three are grimly awaiting them.

Ace half expects to be yelled at once he passes the threshold. Or get some kind of lecture on how he should have better manners than to just run off like that. It would've been just like his housewarden to only care about weird, arbitrary rules when there were other arguably more important matters.

But his housewarden sits silently on his gilded velvet throne with glassy eyes. There's no anger burning behind them, and the freshmen are terrified to see their once proud and fearsome queen reduced to this husk. He almost would rather him back to the state where he was barking out orders for them. The silence in the lounge is deafening.

Ace swears they must be all thinking the same thing.

Please let this be a bad dream.

-

He tried calling you. Texting you. Hell, he even tried messaging you on Magicam! Magicam, of all things! 

Anxiety claws at his heart with each unread message and dial voice tone greeting. He has so much to say, to ask for-

Deuce wasn't faring well on his side either. He had also tried calling and texting you, to no avail. Grim, that traitor, hadn't come back to visit Heartslabyul at all since the incident. Never mind the fact he had only himself to blame for that—he thought at the very least the cat direbeast would have some sense of pity for their friendship and throw them a bone. 

Ace tried two more times to meet you. 

First, during your infirmary stay, when you were still unconscious.

The second time was when you returned to Ramshackle dorm with Grim.

Maybe the Seven were punishing him for his hubris. Or he supposes this is just karma. Because both times, he fails spectacularly at the front door of Heartslabyul. Because of this, he's the reason why Riddle had put them all on house arrest (with the exception of academic reasons, of course).

It's a declaration that would've been met with mutiny from all of them, if it weren't for the fact that even Headmaster Crowley had explicitly forbade anyone from showing up on Ramshackle's doorstep or trying to meet you. So he understands. Really! He does. He's seen how Riddle holes up in his room, muttering to himself while carrying out boxes upon boxes of crumpled paper. When he manages to snag a stray paper that flutters out on garbage day, Ace realizes that Riddle is also just as frenzied trying to reach out to you. Even if he is going about it in an old fashioned way.

He'll chip in to help. If his housewarden is left to his own devices, they’ll all be fossils by the time he sends what he deems a satisfactory letter. 

And the faster they do this, the faster they have a chance of reaching you.

vii. Embalming

The most horrifying thing is that it doesn't seem to care about dying.

That cursed pile of ceramic shards had disappeared—no, pieced itself back together—and once again, it became the smiling face of Yuu, the being they all knew and used to adore.

Riddle Rosehearts immediately smashed it to pieces again under the weight of his magic.

No one had tried to stop their housewarden. Not even the faceless mobs. Even if they were all alarmed at the erratic behavior of their housewarden, they could not deny the fear of seeing something dead come back alive. With not so much as a dent or wound in them, for that matter.

The third time it happened, Riddle ordered for the remains to be dumped into the school’s incinerator at the highest heat level. Surely, that would be enough. 

He watched as the incinerator roared and shuddered, shaking as if the pits of hell had opened. After a few agonizing minutes, the rumbling stops, and before he can even breathe a sigh of relief, the iron hatches creak open, and out strolls Yuu, perfectly fine and pieced together again.

It's magic. Or some kind of century old curse. Of course it is. After all, it was at a higher power than even Draconia's comprehension. Why he didn't consider the possibility beforehand is something he berates himself now. 

What might be the most damning thing is that it has no fear or suspicion in its face; even after the multiple times it’s been maimed and torn apart. Not like you, who immediately closed themselves off at being hurt so thoroughly. 

The irony isn't lost on him. The temptation of letting the puppet take its place back in favor of just bringing everything back to how it was is something Riddle could not deny. But now that he's actually met you, Yuu just seems more of a shadow of what he remembers during your interactions together.

It has your face. It acts like you.

But it's not you.

When Ace asks after the commotion at the Unbirthday party on how he was able to figure out that it wasn’t [First], he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Ace’s face changes into something of disbelief when Riddle merely replies with: “[First] takes their tea with two sugars and a dash of milk.”

“You were so sure only because of that?”

He doesn’t want to think what Ace’s face would look like if he had explained his whole list of reasons how he realized that the puppet wasn’t you. How he soaked up as much as he could when you came over for the tea party. Your expressions, your little habits, the way you fidget…it was all filed away in Riddle's head and later, his private notebook.

But that doesn’t matter now. Now, there’s an even bigger problem than the puppet resurrecting itself.

Grim is missing again.

This alone should've been more worrying than anything for Yuu, but it merely shrugs and says it’s not sure where he scampered off to. He's more than suspicious, of course, but there is no proof, which is infuriating already.

But without Grim, they are missing the key to finding [First]. 

The others raise hell once they hear the news Riddle reports at the weekly housewarden meeting. A new wave of tension washes over NRC and with it, an unprecedented deep disdain for the puppet. It returns back to classes unannounced, making Ace and Deuce rant to him about how weird it is that it’s trying so hard to act like nothing had happened. It attends school events with their camera, drumming up conversations like normal between all of them; despite the fact it gets ignorance or violence in response (depending on the person it greets).

But none of them are really sure on how to interact with Yuu.

The nicer ones, like Trey or Deuce, entertain Yuu with frigidly civil responses, in hopes of boring the puppet and making it flit away to another victim. Meanwhile, he and Ace have finally come together on an agreed opinion: that they would rather die before letting the puppet even think it could take [First]’s place.

“Go away.”

Yuu merely smiles in response to Riddle’s annoyed voice. The puppet leisurely lounges in the chair across the table from him. The school library is vast but empty, his authoritative voice echoing down the long halls. Several floating books flit past above their heads and the chandeliers above flicker with bright candlelight.

“I just wanted to keep you company.” Riddle purses his mouth in disgust. It’s invasive, it’s gross, and most of all it feels wrong to hear those words coming from Yuu. 

“I didn’t ask for your company,” he replies coldly. “Shouldn’t you know that it’s bad manners to bother someone who wants to be left alone?”

“I don’t think you like being left alone, Riddle.” He flinches at the way Yuu’s eyes bore into him. “Well, then again, you sure like to pretend you’re fine, don’t you?”

His hand tightens around the textbook he’s reading about cursed dolls. There would be no point if he brought out his magical pen and reduced it to rubble. But he is tempted, if only to get some peace and quiet for just a few minutes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Riddle says.

“Hmm…” Yuu hums into its hand, “...then I suppose I will just let you be. What a shame, I had something entertaining to tell.”

“What? What do you mean?” 

Yuu giggles and waves him off. “No, no! You said you didn’t want my company now. Why should I tell you anything?”

He resists the urge to incinerate the book in his hands. “Fine! I would like your company. What is this ‘entertaining’ thing you want to tell me so badly?”

“Hmm…how insincere,” Yuu tilts its head coyly with a smile more akin to a smirk. “But I guess that’s the most I can get.”

“Since you’ve all been driving yourselves crazy, [First] is safe.” The floor feels like it’s been yanked underneath him. The puppet is smiling still, as if it’s all some big joke rather than the revelation it delivered. He can hear his blood roaring through his ears.

“You…” Riddle snarls, face heating into a bright red rage. “What did you do to them?”

It bursts into laughter at his face. 

“Why, I only granted their wish!”

Its laughter is cut short by the sound of ceramic being crushed, and Riddle is left shakily breathing at the pile of shards that used to be Yuu. The puppet’s words churn over and over in his head.

What did you wish for? 

-

It is currently 3:20 on a Wednesday afternoon. 

In his planner, the bullet point neatly penned on the schedule shows ‘Studying for History Test’ in bold blue ink for the time slot. ‘History of the Queendom of Roses’ is laid open on his desk, to the chapter about the local mythos of the area, just as he intended. His notes from lecture are next to it, with several of his stationary needed to jot down annotations. 

And yet, Riddle has yet to touch any of these items or actually adhere to his daily schedule—he’s too distracted by what he should do in order to reach the player.

Riddle's already embarrassed enough, resorting to handwritten letters with the best calligraphy he can muster. He's sent only a couple that passed his satisfaction, and they have all been met with judgemental silence. He’s hunched over another crumpled letter near ripping his hair out when someone knocks on his bedroom door. He quickly shoves the envelope under some textbooks out of frantic instinct.

“Come in.”

A familiar bob of red orange hair pops out behind his door, and Riddle raises an eyebrow at the underclassman who enters.

“Ace? What is it?” Normally, Ace would never be in his room if he could help it. If he was in Riddle’s room, it most likely meant he was either being scolded or punished. And Ace’s eyes are shifting side to side, as if he was trying to sneak his way in. 

“Out with it, Ace.” He’s not in the mood for the underclassman’s shenanigans.

“Housewarden, you’re writing letters to the prefect, aren’t ya?” The question completely takes him off-guard sputtering.

“W-What does t-that have to do with you?” He tries to maintain his composure, but Ace is already giving him a smug smirk for the one up on him. Of all people, it had to be him finding out. 

"I had an idea, Housewarden. Why don't we send them something with the letter?" Riddle blinks in surprise.

“...How smart of you for once, Ace.” It was so simple, yet he marvels at the idea's brilliance. Perhaps there was merit in trying this proposal.

“Hey! What the hell does that mean?!” His underclassman snaps back in a huff. “Whatever, point being, maybe we should switch it up instead of letters all the time.”

He crosses his arms, “And what do you suggest? There’s not much we can really send that hasn't been sent already by other dorms.”

Ace winces. Clearly he didn’t think about the other dorms with more affluent people; people who had more than enough thaumarks and prestige to spend it to appeal to you. Riddle can't blame him either: although he is at the top of the school and his parents are well known mages, it's not like any of that could help him here. All of them, in a sense, were stuck in that situation. 

For once, he starts to resent not having more.

"Ugh, well…maybe it doesn't need to be so fancy, you know?" Ace rubs his neck, face scrunched in frustration. "Like…uh…you know-flowers! People send flowers all the time, yeah?"

This is true. And for Queendom of Roses’ residents, it has become custom to send bouquets with subtle messages left in petals and stems. Although he is a bit loath to admit that he isn’t as well versed in the language of flowers compared to hedgehogs.

"And what do you recommend, Ace?" He asks. "What would be the best flower to send to the prefect in our circumstance?"

"We got all these roses, why not send them that?" Ace responds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Riddle coughs in annoyance. 

"Why not just procure some from Sam's shop? Today is Wednesday. Do you not remember rule 228?" He chides. Ace groans, rolling his eyes. 

"Not the weird rules again…"

"Ace."

"Yeeesss Housewarden…" The card soldier mock salutes with a deadpan expression. "I'll see if we can get some flowers at Sam's."

"You better, or else it's–" 

"-off with my head, I got it, I got it." Riddle seethes as Ace cuts him off and dashes out of his room before he could get another word in. So troublesome…

Still, there's nothing to do except wait for his card soldier to report back. He turns back to his desk, bringing out the crumpled letter from its hiding place. Running a hand over the crumpled pages, he attempts to pick up his pen again, but fails as his thoughts begin to wander. 

Riddle only manages to pen a couple legible sentences when his door slams open, banging against the wall. He almost falls out of his chair in shock from the loud noise. How was Ace back so quickly?

"Have you not heard of knocking?!" He scowls, turning around to see Ace panting and sweating as if he had run a marathon.

"Never mind that, Housewarden, I saw them!" Ace shouts. 

“What are you jabbering…” Riddle trails off in realization. “You better not be horsing around, Ace.”

“Do you think I would lie to you about this?” Ace retorts frantically. “I saw them at Sam’s shop working the cashier!”

For a moment, his mind races with this information. If you were working at Sam’s shop, it would explain why you weren’t showing up to classes, let alone in the hallways or rooms of NRC. It’s a clever ruse—classes may be over during this time of day, but nearly all of them were participating in mandatory club activities or study labs. No wonder no one else has caught on to this. Riddle rubs his chin in thought, settling back in his chair.

“What are you going to do now, Housewarden Riddle?” Ace asks hesitantly. His eyes are filled with some kind of anticipation and hope, no doubt wondering if he could get some leeway in his own agenda. Normally, he would go right away as there was no need to hesitate about these kinds of things.

But. Crowley’s stern announcement comes back to his mind and guilt starts to creep in. 

“First, we’ll go with your idea, Ace.” He responds. “The ban hasn’t been lifted, after all.” Ace opens his mouth to protest, but he holds a hand up to interrupt him.

“But if that doesn’t work, then I’m sure even Crowley can’t say anything about coincidences.”

viii. Calling Hours

“I’m not joking around, you two.” 

There’s very few times that the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul gets truly mad. His patience seems boundless, honed by years of taking care of younger siblings at home and then dealing with rowdy underclassmen in NRC. But even his saint-like patience could only stretch so far.  

“I told you, we didn’t do it!” Ace scowls with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms. Meanwhile, Deuce is silent by his side, face twisted with conflicting emotions. “You don’t even have proof! You just singled us out just because!”

“Who else was around the kitchen when I left it?” Trey asks, voice starting to rise in anger. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you two lurking around before?”

The two freshmen began to speak out, voices rambling over each other and cascading into a loud shouting match that was barely intelligible.

“We just wanted to see if we could get something from the fridge, how were we supposed to know someone would-”

“Me and Ace just wanted to bring something along when we deliver the Housewarden’s invitation to-”

"You dumbass, don't just say that out loud-!"

It’s at this moment that Cater Diamond strolls in, takes one look at the mess of the situation and does a 180 back round to the door. But it’s too late, because the interruption is just enough for Ace to sink his hooks into him.

“Cater-senpai, you believe us, right?” Ace shouts after the orange head, making him flinch in place. “You saw us get the order from Housewarden Riddle!”

Cater turns around slowly like a door on rusty hinges, with an expression that screams of not wanting to be involved. "Oh Acey! Uhm, you mean the letter Riddle gave you two-"

"Yes!" Deuce interrupts in earnest, already trying to barrel his way to proving his innocence. "Housewarden Riddle entrusted us to deliver the tea party invitation ourselves personally." 

Cater turns to Trey, who is rubbing the bridge of his nose, eyes closed with a tiredness that seems comically reminiscent of an old man. "Well, I'm not sure what this is all about, Trey, but maybe you should cut 'em some slack and let it go."

The other senior nods in reluctant agreement and the two freshmen all but nearly trample over each other trying to run from the tension filled room. But they're stopped in their tracks when Trey calls out again.

"Wait, you two." The duo slowly looks back with cautious eyes.

"You wanted to bring something to the prefect, didn't you?" Trey tilts his head to one of the many strange topsy turvey cabinets in the kitchen. "I have some leftover cookies that I made yesterday. Take them. I'm sorry for accusing you guys like that."

Ace and Deuce exchange confused glances, and although Ace looks away in denial, Deuce nods in gratitude. They leave the kitchen just as chaotically, this time with the aroma of lavender following them.

A brief silence follows their absence, while Cater raises an eyebrow at Trey.

"Sooo…care to spill the tea?"

"Don't even start." Trey groans.

Cater seats himself on one of the stools near the counter, waiting. Trey busies himself with cleaning the stoves and counter, trying not to meet Cater's eyes. Silence falls, but it's with none of the comfort that Cater is familiar with. Giving up, he turns to his phone, refreshing his Magicam dash mindlessly. This continues for a good while until finally—

A low sigh, then– "Somebody took my candied violets."

Cater looks up from his phone. Another beat passes, and he realizes it's not a passing statement. 

"It's not like you to get this bent out of shape over your ingredients going MIA." Cater shifts his face onto the elbow meeting pristine marble while shoving his phone away. "You sure that one of the froshes didn't just end up taking them thinking they were for everyone?"

Trey lets out a rough guffaw. "You know better than I do that the others don't touch our stuff."

Cater taps his fingers on the polished white granite, hands already itching to grab his phone and check for updates, but he restrains himself. "That's…mostly true."

"That can only mean one of you guys has taken it." The hairs on Cater's neck raise at Trey's tone.

"Hey now," Cater grins, raising his hands in mock surrender, "you heard it from those two. I was with Riddle when he gave them that invitation."

"I know." Cater's fingers twitch as Trey carelessly tossed aside the rag used to clean the counter into a bucket. The soggy fabric makes a hollow sound against the wood, echoing rather loudly in contrast. "But Riddle would never do such a thing either."

Cater resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's true that their cute housewarden would hardly dare to stoop to thievery, but Trey's blind faith in him can be annoying at times. After all, didn't their little teapot tyrant threaten to kill the prefect at one point?

He supposes that was his fault, though.

"Then it's back to square one." Cater shrugs. "Besides, what were you even planning to do with them if you weren't gonna eat it?"

The baker runs a hand through his mussed forest green hair and frowns. "I was going to bake a cake with them as a peace offering to the prefect."

Cater's mouth forms an 'o' shape in realization. "That's pretty big brain."

"Yeah, but look how that turned out."

"It's fine~you were able to at least send cookies this time round." Cater finally cracks, digging into his pocket for the familiar grooves of his phone case. "All's well that ends well, right?"

Trey doesn't respond and Cater is too engrossed in his phone to look up to see his expression. He slides off the stool naturally, tapping through recent posts and comments, eyes laser focused on recent posts on his dash. 

"Cater." 

There it is. It's the most recent story reel by Ace(according to the time stamp, about two minutes ago). It's an inconspicuous black out picture with several cute teapot and teacup stickers decorating the screen. The banner message is short and sweet: 'Dorm tea party bout to get real this month 🤔😶'

"Cater." Cater's attention snaps back and towards his friend, who gazes at him with dark eyes.

"Please don't lie to me next time."

With that, Cater watches as his long time friend finally leaves the kitchen. 

Thank the Seven he did. He might have been a decent actor, but Trey has been with him through thick and thin, and it's given him the annoying ability to see through his tells.

Really now. Trey knows that he hates sweets. Shouldn't that be enough of an alibi?

It's not fair that Trey already has everything to set him up for a good relationship with you. Even if they're all set back by their violent reaction to you arriving in this world, he's sure it would only take a couple tries with Trey offering genuine heartfelt food to get to you.

It's just not fair. 

Isn't he fun to hang out with? He consistently gets compliments online for his suave looks and easy personality. So why couldn't he compare to-

He shakes his head. There's no point in overthinking it now. Cay Cay #3 had easily taken the cutely decorated jar of violets and discarded it in the dorm dumpster. Like candy from a baby.

He knows it's petty. But for once, he feels much better, knowing that he upset Trey's original plans to ensnare you.

Now, he once again checks Ace's story reel and screenshots it, while quickly pulling up the search bar. He just needs to level the playing field.

-

There can only be one fake bitch in this house and Cater has had enough of the competition.

“I wasn’t aware that you were going to visit me, Cater.” 

The puppet tilts its head with a warm smile, but there’s a frosty undercurrent to the greeting. It’s clear that he’s not welcome, if the way it’s blocking the doorway of Ramshackle has anything to say.

“Yeah, I ended up losing something here. You mind if I look for it, Yuu-chan?” Cater asks innocently. “Promise it won’t take too long.”

“Hm, sure. But I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for.” Yuu's grin is sharp as a razor blade. It knows what he’s here for and it’s definitely taunting him. That little–

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to look~” He responds back airily. His fist curls around his phone in his pocket tightly. The puppet shrugs and walks off, leaving him standing in the doorway.

It’s been a while since he’s personally been at Ramshackle dorm. Cater remembers how Ace complained about the house being a real fixer upper, but then again, he doesn’t remember much of that, since Yuu always spent most of the time at Heartslabyul dorm. The renovations certainly made it much more pleasing to the eye and more importantly, livable by HOA standards.

There’s nothing to write home about the living room. The coffee table is bare and there’s no wrinkles in the sofa cushions at all. It’s a little eerie—as if no one even lived in the house in the first place. The only sign of living was perhaps the fact it is clean of dust or dirt. 

Nothing in the kitchen either. He gives a wayward glance to the second floor, searching for any signs of movement. Couldn’t hurt to be thorough. 

Rows of tall doors pass by as Cater opens each one of them. A storage closet, a spare room, an electric cabinet, another storage area–it all blurs by after the fourth door. There really is nothing, as if the whole house has been wiped of any trace of you. He's about to toss in the towel when an old, dusty memory crops up. His little freshman, Ace. Cater swears he had been making fun of Yuu for seeing strange things at night. Something about a mouse?

Right, their room! Why didn't he think of looking there?  

His feet take him rapidly from memory to the door that was the third from last in the hallway in the east wing. He manages to wrench the door open to see a regular bedroom, bed sheets barely stirred. Before he can even put one foot in, a throat clears behind him. 

"It's rather rude to go into other people's bedrooms, don't you think?"

You got to be kidding me. Cater turns around with the fakest smile plastered across his face. Yuu looks unamused, tapping its foot impatiently against the wooden floorboards. 

"Just wanted to make sure, y'know?" Cater replies. Yuu gives a tight smile back. It goes around him and shuts the door with a hard thunk.

"Ever heard about how curiosity killed the cat?" 

Cater shakes his head in surrender, "I guess I need to look elsewhere for my lost item."

The entrance doors slam shut behind him hard enough to startle several birds out the dead trees in the yard. Cater doesn't bother giving a look back as he strides out of the yard and past the gated fence surrounding the property. That glimpse was enough and much more. Cater smirks to himself, taking his phone out and sending a quick text message to the group chat. Yes, curiosity may have killed the poor kitty cat…

But satisfaction brought it back.

viiii. Eulogy

It might surprise people to know that Trey Clover's first real friend is Che'nya Pinker.

That's not to say that Trey had trouble getting along with others as a kid, oh no. Everyone in his neighborhood agreed that he was a very sweet boy, who looked out for others around him. When he wasn’t taking care of his baby sister, he would be asked by other parents around the block to look after their own children, whether that be playing soccer games with the more energetic kids or patty cakes with the quiet ones. So it isn’t a stretch to say that he’s friends with nearly everyone. But Che’nya was a special case.

Their first meeting is still burned into Trey’s memory.

“You see it too, don’cha?” The boy had greeted him while swinging upside down on a low hanging tree branch. Trey had half a mind to scold him for the dangerous action before he actually looked at him. 

The first thing that takes Trey off guard is that he has eyes. They’re a shiny yellow, just a shade lighter than his. His pupils are long and thin, not round like his at all. He supposes it must be like a cat’s pupils—for he’s never seen anything like it. Then it’s his unique colorful hair, streaks of light pink intermingling with dark purple, making a strange striped pattern across the chopped uneven hair. Trey faintly recalls a certain cat from their local legends, whose fur boasted those very same colors. 

“...What are you talking about?” Trey eyes him warily. The cat boy gives a cheeky grin. He vanishes and then reappears in front of him, albeit with missing arms.

“The people around us who wear the faces of strangers.” Trey’s skin gets goosebumps at the way the boy observes him. He is not looking through Trey, but at him. Their eyes are directly making contact. “But you’re different. You have the face of a friend.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Trey furrows his eyebrows. The boy's grin stretches wider in response. (His teeth were rather blunter than expected, but his canines were pointed.)

“You’re strange. I’m stranger. Together, we can both be strange,” the cat boy chirps back lightheartedly. “The name’s Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. But you can just call me Che’nya.”

Something in his mind had clicked then. It’s hard to explain the feeling–just that it felt like a puzzle piece put into place. He hadn’t known it then, but at that point, the hands of fate had moved. 

Whatever the case may be, Trey was grateful to have Che’nya. Because now he knows that he isn’t crazy; not when he couldn’t see his parent’s faces nor his baby sister’s or even his other friends'. Che’nya too, only shrugs his shoulders when Trey asks him about his grandfather.

“The old man? Yeah, they say I have his eyes, but I wouldn’t know.” The statement is so casually delivered that Trey can hardly believe he’s talking about his only living relative and guardian. “His face does not mirror mine in my mind.”

Staring down at you, shivering with cold and hunger, he feels something churn in him again, just like that fateful day. 

He has his orders from Riddle: bring in the imposter alive. Trey isn’t a violent sort and nor does he enjoy boasting his strength over others like a sadist. And he cannot deny the feeling of cold rage that day when Yuu shuts down, fear inundating him that he may never, ever, get an explanation for the world he was born in. Why he and Che’nya were special, why he had to witness Riddle suffer under his mother–what was it all for?

Your face. There is no blank stretched skin—he can see your wide open eyes, bloodshot and fixated on him. Your mouth too, shaped in a pained grimace, lips bruised and bloodied from previous skirmishes. Surely, surely, there must be a reason why you were here. Why you bear the same face as Yuu. You hold all the answers, if you would just cooperate.

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Trey tries reaching out, but you scurry back into the hedges, squinted eyes wary and untrusting. You remind him of a frightened hedgehog, prickly spines bristled and body curled in to protect yourself. “I just wanna talk.”

“Go away, please,” the imposter quietly pleads. “Just pretend you never saw me! I swear I didn’t even know how I got here…”

Trey swallows hard. 

“Just come quietly. Please.” He is the one begging now. “It’ll be easier for all of us.”

“For who?” The imposter barks a sharp laugh. Trey doesn't miss the way they wince in pain from their wounds. “For me? Or for you?”

He doesn’t have an answer. The sound of running footsteps has him turning, and when he looks back, you’re already gone. The only traces that you were there at all were faint splotches of red blood and crushed grass.

Trey wonders if this, too, was meant to be fate.

—

Trey’s been lovingly dubbed as someone reliable. Some consider him to be an older brother figure due to his nagging and supportive care. It's ingrained in him at this point from the years he’s spent playing babysitter. Trey knows the students around him are not his younger siblings who need constant watching (although their actions say otherwise).

But he worries.

Just a bit. Trey knows better than anyone that you can take care of yourself just fine. He's seen how you carry yourself within those hedges. 

It's just that, he doesn't know if you're okay right now. How could he know? You've been silent even in the face of Riddle's unceasing letters. So of course he's just a bit unsure if you're actually okay, or if you don't trust them enough to say so.

Trey finds himself more frustrated with the ban they're under. Not because of the inability to see you, although that is part of it. No, it's because Riddle has managed to skirt around that rule to desperately grab onto you, and that was just enough to wear you down. 

He thinks if he was bold enough, he could've tried.

As if it wasn't enough, even Ace and Deuce find their own way to get to you, snatching up the chance to deliver the monthly tea party invitation. It takes everything in Trey to clench his teeth and let go—even when Cater ruins his plans. He can't get mad here because it won't get him any closer to you. He has to be the bigger person.

If there is one thing Trey knows about Cater, it's that he absolutely hates getting sweaty or dirty. If Cater wasn’t trying to get out of running those P.E laps, he would absolutely be shirking any extra work assigned. So he's more than suspicious when Cater bounces up to him with a grin saying he could help cover Trey's science club duty of watering plants. 

Trey likes to think he can tell when Cater’s lying. His close friend's happy go lucky demeanor often throws off others, but he’s been with him long enough to pick out his subtle tells. His eyebrow twitches when he’s particularly anxious and the corner of his mouth tends to perk up if he’s feeling particularly daring or desperate. Trey figures this must be something that even he can’t trust Trey with, if he’s going out of his way to take on extra work.

So Trey considers this repayment for letting him take his violets. He watches as Cater dashes off in labwear, waiting for a minute, before following after him. His duty was in the tropical zone of the botanical garden, so he has no worries even if he does lose him. 

He nearly does a double take when he sees you walking in the courtyard hallways by yourself. And before Trey could rethink his actions, he follows behind you, eyes not leaving your form for a minute. 

You look like you haven't slept well. There's dark circles under your eyes. He hopes you're brushing your teeth. There’s no signs of bandages or wounds that he remembers you in, which he supposes is one relief. Even if he so desperately wishes to cook you a proper meal—you look like you could fall over at any minute.

The realization your path is leading to the botanical garden comes just as Trey catches sight of the glass dome. He wants to rush in after you, but he stops himself just as the door swings close behind your form.

Cater is in there. It all makes sense now. Trey has to give it to him—Cater really does know every little happening in the school. But Trey knows him well too—and if he had to guess, even if Cater manages to talk to you, it won’t end pretty. His inability to be genuine will definitely only set you on edge and less likely to reciprocate. 

The waiting game he plays is nothing compared to the silence he had to endure before. Trey doesn’t have to look to know that you’re the one slamming open the doors to the botanical gardens, labwear dirtied and face twisted in a frustrated anger. He watches as you enter Professor Crewel’s office again and after some time, pop back out in completely different clothes. 

His chest tightens in longing as he continues to follow after (more from an instinctual drive now, rather than deliberate), trying to keep you in sight within the stone pillars. He wants to call out after you so badly and ask you what’s the matter, if you need help with anything. If there was anything he could do to make you forgive him for watching you bleed out on dewy grass. The sun is about to set, warm golden rays flickering between pillars and casting long shadows. Trey’s so enamored with following after you that he flinches back when the sun directly shines into his eyes, blinding him momentarily. 

He barely manages to get a hold of himself. By the time his eyes blink away the blurry blots, he realizes you’re looking back at him. His breath stops. Your eyes are wide and frightened as they are that day, and his heart drops to his stomach. Both of you don’t move, merely staring at each other. 

You finally break the connection, turning around and quickly walking away. Trey gasps, remembering to breathe, lungs screaming for air. 

What was that?

x. Entombment

It's a nice sunny afternoon in the Heartslabyul domain. There weren't any track club activities nor dreaded remedial lessons. If anything, this free time would have been perfect for a nap. He hadn’t been up to any large shenanigans like this since the whole fiasco of [First] and Yuu. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” 

Ace scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You got a better one, loosey Deucy? If we don’t do this now, then all of us are stuck until Housewarden grows a pair of balls.” 

Deuce Spade bites his lips. “I just think there might be a better way around this.”

“Yeah? And the sky is blue. Keep going, we don't have much time." Ace cranes his neck to the side of the bush, eyes warily looking out to make sure the coast is clear. 

Deuce grumbles but continues plucking, some roses already tucked within his arms. They chose a bush the furthest away from the dorm, in a hidden corner where no arched windows could overlook them. It was necessary, because today was Wednesday, and the Housewarden would have their heads for plucking his beloved roses out of all the flora.

His fingers are bleeding already, finger pads torn from repetitive tugging on the thorns and stems. They couldn’t afford taking any of the gardening tools, lest they be questioned for what they were doing with them. Still, even he had his limits.  

“Why is it that you aren’t helping at all?” Deuce snipes at Ace, who scowls back. 

“You want to be caught by someone, genius?” Ace replies snarkily. “Someone has to keep look out.”

“Doesn’t explain why I have to do all the work.” 

Ace rolls his eyes, deigning not to bother engaging in another futile argument that would lead to nowhere. Deuce is about to cut off a particularly stubborn rose when Ace pipes up again.

“...Did they ever respond to your texts?” Deuce only deflates in response. Ace’s mouth slants crookedly in an annoyed grimace. The two of them know full well what the answer to that was.

“Damn that cat…” Ace mutters bitterly under his breath. Deuce doesn’t say anything. He too, is finding it hard to not feel petty towards Grim right now. Weren’t they friends? He could’ve afforded to help them out somehow. But it’s no use. Their texts went unanswered. Headmaster had banned them from stepping foot onto Ramshackle grounds. It’s like you had closed everything off from them.

It’s why he doesn’t protest this plan, as reckless as it is. He’s not any better than Ace—he needs to see you. He and Ace were your closest friends, your first friends! He loved you. That had to mean something. If it didn’t, then…

“I think this is enough.” Deuce adjusts the messy bouquet in his hands, attempting to hold them without crushing the delicate petals. Ace looks over and nods in approval. He takes out crimson ribbons and a silk handkerchief and begins tying it around the stems in a very artful way that has Deuce’s eyebrows raising.

“Where did you get that?” Ace smirks in response at the interrogative question.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ace snatches the bouquet from his hands and slips in an envelope with the housewarden’s seal. Deuce silences the questions on the tip of his tongue. For whatever Ace has planned, he’s rather not know anything more troublesome than necesscary. 

What he failed to account for was getting caught. Housewarden Riddle was beyond furious for what they did. It was only by Trey and Cater's gentle reminders that what they did was for all of them, that he only calmed down.

Deuce supposes three days with the collar is better than a week. Even if it is a heavy thing that weighs on his very soul.

He only hopes that you don't notice the thorns they forgot to trim.

—

It’s a given that although Trey is the right hand of Heartslabyul, Cater is considered the left hand of Housewarden Riddle. It’s been that way since Deuce himself enrolled in NRC, and possibly even further back. He hadn’t understood it quite then, but after some time, he realized something that he should’ve realized a long time ago. 

To never get on Cater’s bad side.

There are events where the five of them gather outside of Yuu’s influence. Administrative meetings, monthly tea parties, and the occasional casual hang out. When you’re aware of how much of your life is affected from being not like the others, it’s common to side with those who are like you. 

Cater had called the meeting this time. It was a bit out of the blue, at least for him and Ace. It’s only when they’re all gathered around the playing table in the lounge, not another soul in sight, when Deuce realizes Cater has that gleam in his eye. One that screams that he got a viral lead on a hot topic. His upperclassman must have been investigating.

"Remember how mirrors are considered to be portals?"

Deuce's neck prickles.

"Your point, Cater?" Their housewarden is impatient, not aware of what the question poses. His arms are crossed with his eyebrows furrowed in a frustrated glare. Deuce realizes that he must have been the one to send out Cater.

"There's a mirror in the prefect's bedroom." Deuce blurts out, and Riddle’s steely eyes snap over in surprise. Cater nods in affirmation.

"Yeah. I only managed a glimpse, but Yuu covered their mirror." Cater says. 

“Hold on, you went into the prefect’s bedroom? Scratch that, to Ramshackle?” Ace asks. “Why are we just getting this now?”

“Because I just came back Acey,” Cater flicks his forehead, causing Ace to exclaim in pain. Trey smiles faintly at the action. “Also Riddle told me to keep it confidential—you two would have ran straight out if we had told you.” 

Deuce sheepishly rubs his neck at Cater’s pointed sentence. Riddle rubs his chin in thoughtfulness, eyebrows still furrowed. 

“But there isn’t anything magical about that mirror, is there?” Riddle asks, skepticism coating his tone. “The puppet could have simply covered that mirror out of an odd preference.”

“Acey, didn’t you mention that Yuu always mentioned seeing things in that mirror?” Cater responds, deflecting the question upon his underclassmen. Ace straightens as he and Deuce both exchange a glance.

“Yeah…something about a mouse in their mirror,” Ace answers slowly, face scrunched in an effort to recall memories. “I always thought it was just crazy dreams but…”

“Yuu was always insisting about it,” Deuce chimes in. “Said the mouse speaks to them and everything—that there was another world it was in.”

Trey and Cater share a furtive glance together before looking at Riddle. Their housewarden seems to be taking in the new information, closing his eyes in thought. For a while, no one dares to speak. 

“What do you think, Riddle?” Trey finally breaks the heavy silence, and Deuce breathlessly releases a sigh. Leave it to Trey to speak for all of them.

“If the mirror in the bedroom is magical, then that changes things.” Riddle pronounces with conviction. “If that mirror potentially holds a dimension, then that would be the perfect place to trap someone.”

“Cater.” The orange head straightens to attention at the stern command. “Find a way to get the puppet out of the dorm for a while. We’ll need to look into this ourselves.”

Cater smirks and a chill runs down Deuce’s spine. While Cater still has an easy going look, his jade green eyes have darkened with a sadistic gleam. 

“Roger that, housewarden!” His upperclassman chirps, already taking out his phone. 

Riddle is already barking orders that each of them are to take up within this mission of theirs. But Deuce nearly misses his task, eyes stuck on Cater’s face as he scrolls his phone.

He catches a glimpse of a photo before it’s quickly clicked away. Deuce snaps back to Riddle just in time for Cater to shoot him a wary glare, checking to make sure no one else was looking. 

Deuce is very glad he is working together with Cater.

[sunnynwanda]

Hero groans, peeling their eyes open. The world is upside down and swayng, red lights flashing around them. They try to take a deep breath, but their ribcage hurts like a bitch, ripping a strangled moan from their dry lips. Pain pulses through every little nerve in their body, the damp air making their nostrils flare and toes curl.

Hero grits their teeth, taking several shallow breaths to calm themself and focus. They try to turn around, but the chains around their middle forbid the movement, their back flush against something. Or someone.

Villain.

They finally register that they're chained back to back and hanging upside down. This could only mean one thing - they know. And whoever they are doesn't matter because Hero and Villain are screwed regardless. They got caught, and judging by the fact that Villain is chained up too - this won't end well. Before they can think of any way out, a choked whimper tears from Villain's throat, making Hero's entire body shudder.

"Shh, you're okay," they try to sound as confident as possible even though they cannot see what state Villain is in. Something tells them it's for the better that they can't. "You're okay. I'm here."

"How is that any better?" Villain croaks out, struggling against the restraints. Hero stills, gulping thickly. They need to think of a solution, and they need it now.

"At least you're not alone?" Hero suggests in an attempt to sound lighthearted - all the while searching for ways to get out before Villain starts losing it.

"I'd much rather have you come to save me, not be trapped here with me," Villain comments in a deadpan voice. Hero chuckles, leaning their head back against Villain's shoulder.

"Too bad I cannot breathe without you right by my side then," they smile, keeping their voice soft despite the physically straining position. Their head is threatening to explode, pulse pounding against their temples.

"Not the time, Hero," Villain would glare at them given a chance. Or yell at the gods above and curse fate for creating Hero the way they are and having them fall for the worst option possible. The worst option being Villain.

"It's always the time to be romantic," Hero counters, trying to diffuse the tension. They search for Villain's hand and interlock their fingers, squeezing them for grounding.

"All I see is red lights..." Villain groans, a rumbling sound flooding their hearing. They can feel the vibration in their bones, the power surging in their chest, blocking their throat.

"Vil, close your eyes," Hero says, their demeanour shifting to pure urgency - they need to move fast. "You hear me?"

Villain obliges, closing their eyes to dissociate from the flashing lights, the colour evoking the primal rage within them. They don't want to let it flow, especially not with Hero nearby.

"Who is it?" Hero asks in a doomed attempt at distraction. "Your agency or mine?" They press back, hoping that the full-body contact will tame the beast that is their secret lover. Well, it's not so hidden anymore, it seems.

"Both," they can sense the difference in Villain's voice, their tone having gone from concerned to eerily serene. "I... need you to hold me back," Villain mutters under their breath. "They won't survive me."

"I know, baby," Hero finally manages to free a hand, now working faster, frantic in the face of the impending catastrophe. "Give me a second. I'll get you out..."

"I'm losing..." Villain pleads, their eyes filling with tears until they drip over their cheeks, leaving watery trails behind.

"No, no," Hero protests, lifting themself up to loosen the chains around their ankles. Their body drops to the ground with a loud thud, the fall rattling their broken - and most likely dislocated - ribs. They spring to their feet, glancing around for means to free Villain. "I'm here.. Come on, we gotta get out of here."

Hero gently lowers them to the ground before lifting them to their feet and draping Villain's arm over their shoulders. Just as they are about to escape, the door swings open, allowing a group of both their former teammates to flood the place.

Villain's eyes widen in pure terror - except it's not fear for their life. Oh, no. It's fear of the damage they can inflict. The harm they can do once they...

Too late.

"I've already lost control," Villain mutters, their lips shaking uncontrollably. They try to pull away when Hero's hand wraps around their neck, forcing them to meet their gaze. But this time around, Hero doesn't try to hold them back. They don't try to stop or control the vicious force lurking beneath the surface. Instead, they caress Villain's face in a tender gesture before whispering with a tinge of twisted pleasure. "Wreck them."

Masterlist

A/N: Hi loves!

Today's my birthday so I figured I should do something for my favourite bunch xD Consider this an appreciation story because I am extremely thankful for this community in general and our little bubble that we've established here 🙏

Thank you for spending your time on something that means so much to me. Thank you for the love and support you offer me every day. Simply thank you.

Love you 💛☀️

xo Sunny

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy@alltimelowing@lateuplight@surplus-of-sarcasm@betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood @whumpifi @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444

@m4iloblu3 @silky-worm @doctorsawyer @philosophershroom

[aliveinacoffin]

A Difference In Fate

You knew Miguel had been hiding something from you, you just didn't know what. Stupidly, you thought the best of him.

TW: Agressive Miguel lmao

You weren't meant to find out.

Miguel wasn't sure for how long he'd hide it from you. Maybe a month, a year, forever. It didn't matter.

He'd only known you for a short amount of time, but he knew he was too late when he started to worry about what you thought about him. When Miguel told you about what happened to Gabrila and that universe, he felt a deep shame he'd never felt before. Yes, he lived with the guilt that came from destroying an entire fucking universe and all the billions of innocent people inside, but he was also terrified that you'd leave him because of it.

When you didn't, after a night of tears and shame, he knew he'd never let you go. Even if it killed him.

Which is why he lied, when he had that meeting about Miles that you had missed, he lied and said that it was nothing.

When you asked why Lyla wouldn't give you a rundown of the meeting, he lied again and said it must be faulty in her coding, and that the files couldn't be recovered.

Sure he felt guilty about lying to you, but he more so felt a sense of anxiety about when you'd find out, not if.

Another thing Miguel loved and appreciated about you, was that you were incredibly acute and intelligent. Nothing ever went past you when it came to people or plans. You always quickly noticed the small details or came up with new strategies.

That, and that you were just incredibly fucking lucky.

___________________________________________

"So, what do you think about that last meeting?" Peter B. Parker from Earth 616B asked you, catching you off guard from the paper you were reading. His tired eyes and five o'clock shadow seemed worse than ever. He seemed to be having a rough day since the whole morning he had been mostly silent, like there was a weight in his mind holding him down to drag him to the depths of hell.

"Oh, I didn't make it. What was it about, anyway?" You shrugged, spider mask pulled up to your forehead to take a bite out to the 'Original Spiderman Burger'

He stared at you for a bit, blue eyes watching your movements. "Did Miguel not tell you?" He asked, genuinely taken aback at your lack of knowledge of the situation.

You chewed quickly, covering your mouth while trying to answer as fast as you could. "No, and he still won't. I want to know! Was it about something embarrassing?" You laughed, grabbing your drink.

"It was about the anomaly." Peter said, voice curt and timid.

You raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior, usually, you and Peter easily bounced off one another, both your jovial and rather silly personalities perfect companies for each other. To see him being so quiet with you was worrying.

"I got that man, just tell me, I don't bite. My teeth aren't as sharp as Miguels." You elbowed him, smiling like you would a timid cat. You took another drink to try and give off a relaxed aura, but inside your heart was picking up with his lack of relaxation.

"It's-the anomaly is the kid I talk to you about all the time. He was never meant to be a Spider-Man. We're not allowed to interact with him in any way until we figure out a way to find a solution." Peter said solemnly, turning to hunch over his uneaten food. His own masked burger staring back at him.

You scoffed with liquid in your mouth, swallowing before giving out a barking laugh. "What does that even mean? Not meant to be Spider-Man, who's meant to be Spider-Man? It just happens, it's luck not fate." You grumbled, face screwed up half in disbelief and half in genuine confusion. Suddenly you jerked up in shock, and quickly turned to the older man.

"Isn't he the kid that made you want to have a baby in the first place?" You placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, feeling his cold shoulder through the soft fabric of his suit.

"Yeah." Was all he said, a grave look on his face.

You tilted his shoulder at you, and watched his eyes slowly move over to your kind face. "Hey man, don't worry about it. Miguel seems tough, but on the inside, he's just a big softie. Trust me, I'd know. I sleep with the man every night. We'll figure it out, alright?" You reassured him, smiling brightly at him.

Peter looked down again and hit his fist on the counter. "Yeah, you're right. It always works out in the end, huh?" Peter's voice was strong like all the hope he had lost was now found and stronger than ever.

___________________________________________

"It's kind of sad, you know? Like, it wasn't his fault he wasn't supposed to be Spider-Man." Pavitr Prabhakar said, hands deftly working to fidget with his yo-yo.

Both your guy's hair swayed softly in the warm Mubattan air. You played with the bottom of your spider suit feet. "Yeah, sounds like he's just a kid."

"Well, I'm sure it'll figure itself out, after all, we're all Spider-People right? Everything is great!" Pavitrs voice got fainter as he whipped away, probably going off to swing around Gayatri's neighborhood.

You looked off into the sunset, eyes squinting at the bright light of the sun. Still, you basked in the warmth as you sat, just pondering and mulling over your feelings over the whole situation.

You liked Pav, as you've all started calling him, his happy-go-lucky and glass-half-full personality was infectious, and he was overall just a joy to be around.

It made you have a gut-wrenching bad feeling, especially since he hadn't had his canon event yet. You wished there was a way for him to just be happy and be Spider-Man without the life-altering loss that came with it.

___________________________________________

"That's the price you have to pay when you become Spider-Man." Miguel said later that evening, sitting at the table while he filtered through emails, videos, and reports.

You came over and kissed his head, swiping away all the red screens taking over your shared table. Instead, you replaced his work with food, more specifically asada quesadillas.

"Okay sure, but he's just a kid y'know? Like, he's barely able to drive a car and now has this duty to protect a whole ass city. Let alone deal with an unbearable loss that would break a full gown adult." You challenged, staring at your boyfriend across the table. You had brought up your feelings about Pav and how the guilt of his misfortune weighted you down.

You still haven't told him that you know about the kid. Miles. For some reason, a part of yourself told you that you should. That you should hide that knowledge because for some reason a part of you thought he'd be upset. No, knew he'd be mad.

"It's the fate of the universe." He sighed, eating his food as if the whole conversation was boring.

"But what does that mean? Doesn't fate bring in the idea of gods or goddesses? A higher power saying this should be the way? And what about destiny? Then doesn't that bring in the question of whether or not it's real, let alone that we have to abide by those rules?" You started, rambling about the subject. This whole situation seemed wrong, like Miguel's ideals weren't quite right. You knew Miguel was intelligent, insanely so that he created his own AI and created a multi-diversional portal travel and created a society within his universe to combat world-breaking enemies.

Still. Something about this was wrong.

Miguel growled out your name, dropping his food on his plate to stare at you so intensely it made you gulp. He clenched his fists on the table, obviously trying to hold back his anger before he spoke to you.

"You know what happened to me when I tried to break the rules. God or not, things happen for a reason." Miguel said, eyes lowering to try and continue eating.

"What about us? We're from different universes, yet we live together, and we're dating. Are we fate? Or are we pure coincidence?" You asked, trying to get him to explain in a more logical reasoning like you know he's capable of.

Miguel slammed his fist on the table, rattling the dishes placed down and you. "Can we drop this? This conversation is going nowhere." He was getting angry, you could tell. But still, something in you nagged and ate away at your soul.

"Yes, perdón amor." Your eyes fluttered down, and you gulped away the hot stinging of your throat.

"I'm sorry hermosa, but you know this is the only way." Miguel offered, holding his hand out across the table to reassure you.

You met him halfway, and smiled at him shakily. Still, you didn't believe him.

___________________________________________

"He was your friend?" You asked curiously while you went over the blueprints for the watches. You wanted to customize yours further, so you invaded Lyla's security, (asked pretty please), and now were trying to see what changes you could make.

Gwen Stacy was behind you, arms crossed while she looked to a wall, dissociating. "Yeah, and I can't see him at all even though I want to. So badly." She sighed, tired eyes looking down. You looked back to her, offering a sad smile.

"We'll figure it out honey, I'm sure."

"Why are you dating Miguel?" She suddenly asked, and at those words, you whipped around and gave her an incredulous look. Your hands on your hips with a disbelieving smile.

Both of you looked up to see Hobart walking in, sauntering over to your workstation. "Hey." He nodded up to both of you, immediately going through your files.

Both you and Gwen greeted him before you turned your attention back to the girl. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you're just so nice and understanding while Miguel is...well Miguel." She said, exasperation filling her voice.

You laughed, brushing her off. "Hes not that complicated, just rough around the edges, I promise."

"What do they say, love is blind?" Hobie spoke up, eyes hyper-focused on the watch details.

"That's not applicable to this." You waved him off. Walking over, you put both hands on Gwen's slim arms, giving them a grounding squeeze. "Everything will be fine, we just need time to figure out a solution to this problem yeah? Miguel and everyone else has been aware of this problem for a while, it's just now it has a name!" You smile, trying to uplift the depressing mood.

"Yeah, and his name is Miles Morales, a sixteen-year-old kid." Hobie said, his hands drifting down from whatever he was doing with his watch.

You sighed, hanging your head down before you walked back over to your table. "Thank you for the optimism Hobie."

"You're welcome." With that, he walked out.

___________________________________________

That conversation went the same with Jess and many other members of the spider society, saying that 'taking care of' Miles would be for the greater good.

But what is the greater good? What good were the protecting? Apparently, Miles's universe has been doing fine so far, what's so wrong with that?

Apparently, his whole existence was flawed.

At the end of that day, when everyone either went home or started a night shift to find out where Miles had gone, Miguel returned home.

When he opened the door, he half expected you to be at the table or living room searching for Miles for him, to be directing people, or actively searching for him with Miguel. Of course, he knew you really wouldn't be.

Miguel only returned home to check up on you, after everything.

The whole time you had stood back, and without his knowledge helped Miles escape Miguel's wrath. But he didn't know that.

The front door creaked open, and Miguel was greeted with a dark and quiet house. The only light that was seen was the yellow light of your shared bedroom down the hall.

When he closed the door and silently crept in his own home, he could hear quiet sobbing coming from the room

"Amor?" He peeked in his room, fully stepping in at seeing your hunched-over form. Basically in the fetal position, sitting at the edge of your bed you had your hands on your head.

You looked up, and when he saw your face he immediately stepped back. Rage still filled him, but seeing you made him completely break down.

Your face was one of pure fury, an anger so deep and true it morphed your wet face into something unnatural. Your hair was wild and messy, your face also covered in small scratches form god knows what, and your knuckles were white from how hard you were clenching them.

"What the actual fuck are you doing here? Don't you have a child to murder?" Your snarled mouth pulled back to show off your teeth. Even though you didn't have fangs like him, doesn't mean a bite from you wouldn't hurt.

Instantly, Miguel snapped back. "Don't you dare-"

"No, shut the fuck up. What the fuck was that? Who even are you?" You asked, standing up to your full height.

"I was-am stopping an anomaly from destroying the entire multiverse. I'm saving-" Miguel's voice was raising by the word, his large build hunching over to try and intimidate you.

"Don't talk about him like he's not a child! Don't act like you're not hunting down a literal child? What is wrong with you?!" You screamed, voice raw from the running and crying you'd done all day.

"This. This is what I didn't want to tell you! You don't understand the gravity of the situation! Pinche-" He started, eyes glowing that sparkling red you had grown to love after the long three years you'd known Miguel.

Now they just disgusted you.

"I knew! I've known this whole fucking time! But I trusted you to know what to do, because I love you, and I know you're so smart. But this? I-i can't-" You turned around, hands shakily typing frantically into your watch.

"Lo siento, lo siento preciosa, no quise gritar-" Suddenly Miguels voice was filled with sorrow, and he reached out to hold you in his arms. The same arms that held you, cradled you, strapped you down, and lifted you up.

"Stop, just stop." You sobbed, quickly opening a portal to god knows where, just anywhere but here-

Miguel called out your name, and you turned around to see his eyes piling with tears. His face twisted into the most pained face you've ever seen, his fangs popping out of his lips, his mouth pulled back to a vicious snarl, and his eyebrows furrowed down so deep he grew another crease in his forehead.

You looked down to hold back another sob, shaking your head while walking closer to the portal.

You didn't even glace back at him when you left.

[ittybittylee]

Jax Tickle hcs 💜✨

- Lee

* Even though he may be an asshole he tends to get very flustered while being tickled. This is because he’s not used to anyone seeing him all soft like that

* thus he feels embarrassed

* And does not wanna screw up his “Reputation”

* Will instantly melt in your hands

* He has that cackling yet snarky kinda laugh?? the kind that gives you butterflies

* He has very ticklish feets ///that are also very fluffy

* His neck, stomach and hips are also very sensitive, even a slight poke could send him into a giggling fit

* He lets on that he absolutely HATES being teased and will do everything in his power to push you away to prevent you from teasing him

* Making Eye contact while tickling him makes him even more flustered

* But he secretly enjoys it, makes him weak in the knees

* Kicks his feet when tickled

* Will not ask for you to stop because he “refuses to beg anyone” so once the damage has been done he’ll just accept his fate

* ^If you confront him about it he’ll get all embarrassed and start shouting at you to “shut up!”

* Will 100% use the excuse “how could I have of asked you to stop when you were nearly tickling me to death?! I couldn’t even breathe nonetheless get a single word out!”

( he could’ve easily IF he wanted to )

* He absolutely adores aftercare, he’ll snuggle right up in your lap and rest his head on your shoulder

* He loves having his ears rubbed, especially if you hold his head while doing so

* Whether or not he’ll admit it, he loves every minute of it

* “You tell anybody that I’m ticklish and you’re dead. and that’s not a threat, that’s a promise got it?”

- Ler

* Extremely teasing, smug mischievous ler

* perfect balance between rough and gentle tickles

*is a mean ler

* Absolutely LOVES getting a reaction out of you especially seeing you blush

* Laughs at you while tickling because he thinks it’s funny to see you completely helpless

* Finds it hysterical when you snort/squeak/wheeze and will bully you for it //affectionately

* Will do everything he possibly can to get you all flushed and embarrassed just because he knows how much you hate it

* Will not hesitate to absolutely wreck you

* Can and will most definitely tease you especially with baby talk

* This mf will purposely taunt you by saying “Cootchie cootchie coo” over and over again to embarrass the living hell out of you

* You can beg for him to stop but he won’t, not until you’re all wheezy and breathless

* Loves to taunt you by saying “I’m gonna getcha” in a very sinister voice and at the most random times

* you can tell just by the smirk on his face he’s planning an “unexpected” tickle attack

* His lanky fingers make it easier to scribble away into those hard to reach sweet spots ( inner neck, etc )

* Finds it hilarious whenever he gets a reaction out of you

* “Heh what’s the matter? Does that tickle~? Too bad because I’m gonna do it anyway~”

* Will never let you live it down. Ever.

* Will wiggle his fingers at you on purpose just to make you flinch or blush

* Great aftercare, loves to hold you

* Asks you if you’re okay, hoping that he didn’t take it too far

* He makes sure you’re okay before carrying on with the rest of his day and acting like nothing ever happened

* will threaten to tell the others that you’re extremely ticklish but won’t actually tell them

[nxrdamp]

Miguel O'Hara x Fem! Assistant! Reader | Unmasked

TW: language, no use of y/n, some google translate Spanish because I do not speak Spanish.

Word Count: 2,228

| Your POV |

Miguel O'Hara.

I'd use only one word to describe a man like him.

Arrogant.

Extremely arrogant in fact, so arrogant he hired me. Why is that so arrogant, one might ask, well he's arrogant because his personal hobby is to make my life a living, breathing hell! Why is this? Only his big, arrogant, sadistic mind knows. How is he arrogant? Well...

"I thought I said no cream," Miguel said, his eyebrows furrowing for the 20th time today. It's 8:30 in the morning. He sighed and placed the coffee down on his desk hazardously as if everything doesn't have a price tag with a pretty penny attached to it. Miguel O'Hara, one of the leading scientists at Alchemax, what does he do? I don't really know to be honest, I tried to ask once but that made him even pissier, saying something along the lines of "the fate" of something and "confidential to civilians".

"That's what I ordered sir," I said, picking up the coffee cup that was almost tipped over due to his carelessness. God, can this day really test me anymore? It's only the beginning and I've already had to go back for coffee twice.

"I don't care what happened, make it work. I don't want cream and I don't want decaf, I just want plain, black coffee." Yeah, plain like your soul O'Hara. Whatever, this assistant gig pays extremely well since, shockingly, he can't seem to keep an assistant. I wonder why.

"Right away sir," I say, rolling my eyes as I threw away the second coffee cup. Poor coffee, never had the chance. Poor barista who made it, a waste of time. Ungrateful, O'Hara is, he's so stuck up being rich and all from his dumb job in his big stupid lab that he expects someone to just wipe his ass.

"Ah, you said that last time, look where we are." He tutted, sitting at his desk in his office. You heard me, his office, he has a personal lab and an office. What does this guy even do?!

"You have quite a humor." I sarcastically reply, which made him furrow his brows once more. He started to say something, probably along the lines of "I'm your boss" yada yada, before I shut the door to his office, walking back to the elevator to grab yet another coffee from the poor stand on the ground floor of the Alchemax building. The Alchemax building is huge, probably all designed for O'Hara since everyone just adores him here, but it's right next to this....odd building. It's about the same size as the Alchemax Center, they even own it, hell it's connected to our building, but it's off-limits to everyone. Ha, even O'Hara. I'm glad at least some things don't revolve around him.

"Hi again," I said to the barista while monologuing I arrived at the stand, "I need a plain black coffee, please, just please don't put anything in it."

"Um, okay," She said, with her signature snarky attitude. This barista always gets on my nerves. She always screws up Miguel's simple order multiple times a day. I think she has it out for me, honestly. I watch as she is about to pour cream into the cup, smirking like it's the funniest thing in the world.

"Hey." I said, making her jump a little, "I've been down here three times today, four yesterday, you know that I know that you know how to make a damn plain cup of coffee."

"Fine." She said, handing me the cup," free of charge if you don't tell my manager."

"Free of charge for a month, this happened all of last week too," I said, grabbing the cup from her.

"Ugh okay." She said, embarrassment rising to her cheeks as she sees other people in line watching the spectacle.

I give her a smile. before dropping a ten in the tip jar. What, I just haggled the poor teenager into giving me free coffee for a month, while she was being an asshole and I needed a win, she's still a kid. Well now I feel bad, but I don't think I'm going to feel as bad as I am when I walk through O'Hara's office doors.

"So, you learn how to order a plain coffee yet?" O'Hara snarled, his eyes glaring at me. God, this guy sucks. His reddish eyes are just asking to test him, begging even, he must be so dreadfully bored that he just wants me to stick it to him.

At this point, I'm too mentally exhausted to make a witty comeback and I defeatedly hand him his cup, sighing as I walk away. Honestly, I think this job might be too much. This is a calm day compared to last week, running back and forth for food, because everyone everywhere in this building screws up his order. This...is odd, because instead of doing paperwork, ha, paper, that's funny, thinking the word 'paper' makes me feel old, like I'm from the 2020s or something like that! But regardless, my job requirements when I got the job was mainly to fill out his busy work, but 99% of the time, I'm running his errands!! So weird now that I think about this, but anyways, it doesn't matter, at least I hope it doesn't.

| Miguel's POV |

I watch as my assistant leaves, seeing her defeated look as she walks away from my office to go to what I assume is the break room. Even if it isn't lunch, I don't care, I just need her away. I don't need a damn assistant. It's all for looks so these nosy scientists don't meddle in my business, so it looks like I'm still acting as a geneticist. Honestly, if there was one word I'd use to describe her, it's insufferable. So very insufferable.

I would say she messes up my orders on purpose just to spite me, but I know that isn't true. Why isn't that true? Well

"You're so rude Miguel." LYLA said, popping up beside him, "I know she can't know your real work, but that doesn't require you to pick on her!"

"LYLA, go away," I grunt, furrowing my brows once more, that must be the twenty-fifth time today.

"Well Miguel, you're needed in Spider-Society, Jess needs you to conduct that mission report." She said, tilting her little heart-shaped sunglasses.

"Do it yourself LYLA, I don't have time for this. If I keep leaving this building, those scientists are gonna keep harassing me on 'how do I get extra time off?' when I'm working much harder than they ever will, especially that Dr. Ohnn-"

"Save it for Spider-Therapist." LYLA said, "I'll see you in HQ". She disappeared before Miguel could argue further about excuses on why he shouldn't leave Alchemax today.

"Ugh!" He groans, furrowing his eyebrows yet again, it's really a wonder he hasn't developed wrinkles yet, well, more wrinkles than he already has.

| Your POV |

I walk back to Miguel's office, ready to stick it to him. Frankly, I don't care if he's my boss, he can't keep treating me like this. It's a toxic work environment and I'm this close to reporting him to HR.

As I walk closer and closer to his office, I see him speedily walking down the hallway, so, in a moment of stupidity I follow him. Staying silent as I see him walk further and further away from the department of whatever the hell he does, walking closer to the biology sector, by the spider section. Gross, I'd hate to work with a bunch of spiders all day, they give me the heebie-jeebies.

He keeps walking, past where anyone works, and by the......sky bridge. What the hell? He can't go in there! That building is strictly off limits for everyone, even arrogant bosses.

I watch as he turns the corner, looking around to see if anyone was watching him. I duck behind a potted plant, praying he doesn't see me, and unfortunately, he does.

"Are you going to explain why you're hiding behind a snake plant?" Miguel asks, walking over to peer down at me. He cocks his eyebrow, smirking as if he'd found a cat in an amusing position like those old internet videos from a hundred years ago.

"You gonna explain why you're walking into that creepy, off-limits, building?!" I said, popping up from behind the snake plant, pointing an accusing finger at him.

"That's none of your concern, why are you stalking me?"

"I'm not stalking you, I am observing your behavior for the greater good of Alchemax! That building doesn't belong to you, sir!" I said, crossing my arms. The nerve of this guy, he doesn't own all of Nueva York!

"¡Que maravilla! We have a little security guard here! Go back to your desk or I'm docking your pay." Miguel said, scowling. Actually, I don't think his face even changed into a scowl. I don't it's ever not a scowl.

"Ha, that's funny." I say, crossing my arms," You have no control over that! Alchemax controls my pay, not you douche-bag!"

"Watch it." He threatened before his watch device dinged, must be some top-of-the-line Mango device, he always gets new, expensive gadgets. He got the ePhone 80 the other day, it hasn't even come out yet!

"LYLA, I'm busy." He said, turning his back to me like he has something to hide on that dumb, orange holo-watch of his. It's rather bulky compared to other holo-watches. Strange

"Instead of hiding secrets how about we finish this conversation, Miguel?" I said walking around to get face-to-face with him. "What does that thing even do? It looks way too big just to be a holo-watch."

"None of your concern, go back to your desk." He said, trying to cover his watch device. Before he knew it, the picture of the lady from the holo watch started moving around. Damn, this guy and his state-of-the-art stuff.

"Hey there!" She said, moving around, "Im LYLA, an AI assistant. I handle all of the nitty-gritty files, documents, and about everything else for Miguel and the rest of Sp...Alchemax! LYLA stands for LYrate Lifeform Approximation. Pretty neat huh?"

"What the hell, Miguel!" I said, scowling, I guess I'm becoming like him. Ew, scratch that, never say that again. "You have a whole other assistant thing and you make me run around like a dog fetching your food, and magically everyone always gets it wrong!"

"Well that's because Miguel asks them to get it wrong" LYLA answered, leaving Miguel frozen for a split second.

"I'm gonna kill you, Miguel O'Hara. Why would you purposely ask people to make my orders for you wrong?! Is this some kind of sadistic game you get off to? Huh?!"

"No." He finally replied, turning LYLA off before she could make him look any worse, "It's to keep you busy and out of my files." Okay, maybe he didn't even need LYLA to make him look bad.

"Why?!" I asked, throwing my hands up in the air. Thank god this is by that other building where no one comes because we're causing quite a spectacle here.

"Because you can't know!" He barked, gritting his teeth. His teeth...does he have fangs? I squinted my eyes to get a better look, and yes, he has fangs, which are abnormally larger than just some sharp canines.

"Why can't I know?" I asked, my eyesight flicking from his teeth back up to his reddish...no red eyes. Why are they red? How are they red? What is even happening anymore?

"Because no one like you can know. You're not a part of the few who get to know and you better be glad you aren't. This isn't a little day job where you run around with screwed-up orders, this is life or death."

"Just tell me dammit," I said, "it's probably not even that serious. What is serious is if you don't 'fess up, I'm going to report the screwed-up food, the trespassing, the verbal assault, and many other things my wonderful boss has done to me to HR. Then, you'll be fired and no more sneaking around the mysterious building. Spill."

"You could never begin to understand..!"

"Miguel! What is it! Why can't I view your files? Why can't I do my job? Why are you going into that damn building?!"

Miguel taps a few buttons on his watch, sighing. He has to do this Whether he wants to or not, it isn't up to him anymore. He has to maintain access to that building. It's vitally important. Alchemax knows what that building is and why it's Miguel's. It's the only reason he can't sue them for making this monster. How else would a man on a worker's salary, even a good one, afford an entire skyscraper in Nueva York.

I watch as Miguel's entire body fizzles softly before being coated in something anyone who has ever watched the news knows. Anyone who isn't dead or living under a rock so huge they might as well be considered dead. The two red lines that represent eyes look back at me, halting any movement, even my words cannot stumble out of my mouth. For the first time ever it feels as if I didn't have a thought at all.

"I'm Spider-man."

{ Does anyone want a Part 2? }

Read this on A03 : here

Read this on Wattpad: here

[whatsaudreythinkingabout]

yellowfang thoughts

the more i think about it, the more i realize how much of a deeply, deeply tragic character yellowfang is. everyone talks about how much she fucking sucks after she becomes a starclan cat, and they’re absolutely correct; she goes from the cool grouchy grandma to a complete fucking hypocrite. and for the longest time i thought this was completely OOC for her, but it recently hit me over the head that it might not be. to say that this change in character was intentional would be giving the erins WAY too much credit knowing who they are, but the more you think about her life and what she went through, the more it makes sense in a twisted sort of way.

starclan forced her into a life she never wanted. she wants to train as a warrior, but she is cursed with the power to feel other cats’ physical pain and badgered into becoming a medicine cat by sagewhisker until she gives in. she falls in love with raggedstar, but as as soon as things go south for her he offers no support. when she dares to go against the destiny that was laid out for her, when she continues to meet with him and becomes pregnant by him, starclan punishes her; not just by having two of her kits die, but by condemning the surviving kit to become a tyrant and a child murderer. he turns against his parents; he kills his father and frames his mother for his own crimes not knowing who she truly is, and yellowfang is forced to watch this all unfold from a distance, unable to tell her son the truth and wondering how things could be different if he knew. and finally, for the good of the clans, she has no other choice but to rip out his eyes and then poison him. her own son, the kit she herself bore, dead at her own claws. a cruel twist of fate for a cat who never wanted any of this, who just wanted her own life.

so by the time she gets to starclan, her experiences have changed her. so many innocent lives were lost and the clans were nearly destroyed because she disobeyed, because she went against their will. she even forgives sagewhisker for being so shitty to her because now she’s convinced that she was the one in the wrong and her mentor, a messenger for starclan, was acting in her best interests all along. she’s become so thoroughly traumatized by everything she went through that she decides she cannot let another cat experience what she experienced. now that she’s a part of starclan, she has the power to prevent something like this from ever happening again. but that’s just the thing. she’s a part of starclan. she’s a part of the system now; the very same system that screwed her over. and the system chews people up and spits them out until they become just another cog in the machine. so instead of going to the root of the problem and questioning the level of influence starclan has over living cats, she not only perpetuates the cycle but becomes an active participant in it.

and because firestar is the son she should have had, she sets her sights on his descendants.

she cannot prevent leafpool from bearing kits, as these kits have their own destiny they must fulfill. so she tells leafpool she must give up her kits, just as she had to. she lies to squirrelflight that she will never have kits of her own and that the three are her only chance to be a mother so that she will take them in. when they arrive in starclan moons later, she and others have the audacity to judge whether they are worthy to join their ranks or should be damned to the dark forest for their actions when they not only did exactly what they were told to do, but did the same things that she did and still went to starclan for (though to give her some credit, she is at least more sympathetic than the other judges and even defends them; perhaps out of guilt?). she allows ashfur into starclan on the basis that he “loved too much,” because her relationship with raggedstar warped her view of what healthy love should look like. she forces the kin of firestar’s kin—namely, jayfeather and dovewing—into destinies they want no part of; they’ll learn to love it, just like she did.

and she thinks she’s doing the right thing. she’s learned the hard way that going against starclan will only lead to more suffering. she’s convinced that she’s helping them, that by acting this way she will be able to prevent them from making the same mistakes that she made. but she cannot see that she is only inflicting on other cats the exact same suffering that starclan inflicted on her.

and if that isn’t tragic, i don’t know what is

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

A Tale of Love, Death and Maggots, part 17-G

Parts 1-15, 16-G

“Are you looking at this place? You said it yourself: we're in Hell. The one with the capital H. We're fucking doomed, Doc.” She gesticulated to the walls around us. “Do you really want to scrape out a life eating out of rusty old cans and drinking stale water?”

“If I get to be with you? Yes. I'd endure all the torment in the world to be by your side,” I said. And somehow, I meant it.

It took her aback. We stared at each other, silent save for the steady drip of the leaky pipe. Finally, in a soft, wavery voice, she said, “oh.”

“I mean it, alright? You bring the light back into this world. I love you, Mrin. You've made an old heart come back to li-”

She hushed me. There was a glimmer of light over her eye, the sheen of tears she refused to let fall. “You’d really do that for me? Endure that much?”

I nodded. “Like I've said, I'm no romantic. But what better reason is there to live than for love?”

“I- I suppose so.” The light was coming back into her, something firm, strong and unyielding as steel. Something like the Mrin I knew. “Okay, then. I guess there's a change of plans.”

“Here's the thing, Doc. I know how to stop that thing.” She paused, as though for dramatic effect.

“And?”

“It's gonna kill me.”

God-fucking-damnit. “Of course it is. Because this entire place just wants us dead, doesn't it?! Well, screw that, if that was your original plan. If we have to, we continue running from it until the end of time.” Or until we died, but I didn't want to think of that then.

“Yes, yes.” Mrin swatted away the thought. “We just agreed on that. I promise you, Doc, as long as I love you and you love me, I won't abandon you.”

The pronouncement made my heart warm. “But then… What are we gonna do?”

She scrunched her face up. “I don't know. Not for sure, anyway. You don't drive away such a powerful possession without great sacrifice. But- And bear with me here, this is absolutely ridiculous, but we have the power of love on our side.”

It was ridiculous to hear the words out of her mouth. What were we, children? This wasn't some silly little fairy tale. We weren't a bunch of sanitised little heroes to go against the big baddie. We were doomed, in hell, fools all of us.

Weren't we?

I swallowed my refutations and said, “Okay? And what does that mean?”

“Love, in and of itself, is a sacrifice, Doc. It's giving a piece of your heart away, letting yourself risk getting hurt, allowing hope to sink its insidious claws into you. To love truly and without reservation is a sacrifice that might just drive away a beast of pure desire like The One That Lurks.”

“This is stupid,” I said, before I could catch my tongue. “What are we doing, Mrin? We've both considered giving up. How the hell is the power of our love and hope going to make anything work? We can barely keep ourselves together! Bloody hell, in the past day we've lost just about everything and everyone.”

“I want to believe, Mrin, I really do. I want this all to work out perfectly. I want to wake up and discover I'm back in the fields near my childhood home. I want to wake up every day and feel the sun on my face. I want Athena and Brett to suddenly come back to life and live happily ever after.”

“When I said that I was gonna try my best, that I was gonna stop surrendering to my fate, that I was done being a coward, I didn't mean that somehow everything was gonna turn out alright. That just… doesn't happen. Not to people like us.”

Her expression remained eerily faithful. “But what if it could, doc? What if it could?”

“If it could, then you'd have done it by now, no?” Shit, I could feel the worm of hope gnawing its way through the applecore of my soul again. It was a foul feeling, but I resisted crushing it.

“I alone could never have done it. Love isn't something a person can do on their own. But I love you, and you love me, and together, maybe, just maybe, we have the power to stop this. To revert Athena to her old self and put the scraps of Brett back together.” She took my hands in hers. “After all, don't we have to try?”

Oh, god, this was stupid. But I'd promised, hadn't I? “Yeah,” I said. “We have to try.”

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