#ever so slowly retraining myself to feel again but it takes time

[sometimesanequine]

life is tolerable again i have a treat (the new iced vanilla berry redbull flavor i am extremely excited to try as i have not yet)

[spideymarvelws]

could you do like a dom wanda and peter x reader smut 😳

my bi ass is screaming🥵also this is my first time writing a threesome and smut for a female character so im sorry if things are a bit iffy

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglist

Warnings : SMUT! (aged up-dom!peter, dom!wanda, sub!reader, bondage, choking, degrading, oral[fem rec], innocence kink? master kink towards the end, slapping, spitting kink, obsessive behaviour)

Word Count : 2.0k

Pretty Little Thing

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

“She’s a pretty one isn’t she?” Wanda slurred, looking down at your kneeling form on the floor. Your back was slouched, chest rising up and down with heavy breaths after Peter finally released your mouth from around his cock. It was a pleasing sight, seeing you so fucked out and vulnerable, your eyes practically begging for more even though your body was so worn. Even with your hands webbed behind your back, you managed to shuffle forward just a little on your knees, chasing after his member like a desperate whore.

“The most beautiful thing in the world.” Peter cooed, letting the pads of his fingers travel down the side of your messy face, lightly scoffing when you nudged your cheek into his palm, “Needy thing too.”

Wanda laughed, the humiliation sending a wave of arousal to your neglected heat. You wanted to talk, to beg for them to do something, anything. But the red ring of magic around your throat contracted every time the thought of opening your mouth crossed your mind. Unless it was for Peter’s cock or Wanda’s fingers.

“Do you want to speak kitten?” Wanda leaned down, her face hovering over yours, reading your mind for all the dirty thoughts running through it. All focus from Peter’s touch left your head, moving to her devious face. She glowed under the dim light of the room, bringing out her dark red lipstick and flashing red eyes.

You nodded desperately, whimpering when her thumb made contact with your cheek, moving to the corner of your lips and swiping off the mixture of cum and spit from your skin. She pushed it into your mouth and you took it without complaint, enjoying the taste bursting onto your tongue.

“Who knew you were such a cum slut,” Peter groaned, pulling your head back by your hair so he could get a good look at your face.

“And we can’t have out little cock slave talking now can we?” she fake pouted, grabbing your jaw tightly between her fingers, moving it around like you were a toy being marvelled at, “But I guess we could make you cum, how does that sound kitten?”

You vigorously nodded your head up and down, the rest of your body bouncing like a bunny. A red aura formed around you as you were lifted up from the ground, landing softly on the mattress with your face pressed against the cold pillows and your ass in the air.

“How- How do you do that?” you heard Peter whisper, feeling his eyes move across your exposed body.

“Really?” Wanda responded, accent thick and heavy, “I nearly defeated Thanos by myself and you ask that now?”

“Well we weren’t about to fuck Thanos so I wasn’t really that interested.” his hand made contact with your ass, squeezing your cheeks when you let out a small mewl.

“Do you always think with your dick Peter?” Wanda went to slap his hand off but he was quick enough to pull it away, landing another blow on your bum.

Peter ignored her question, instead letting his fingers trail up the arch of your back, the warmth that contrasting with your cold skin sent shivers up your body. But the comfort was shortly enjoyed when he grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you up against his shoulder and placing a quick peck to the side of your forehead.

Wanda rolled her eyes at the brunette’s actions, kissing the spot she hit tenderly, “Sorry kitten.”

“Don’t apologize for something she obviously enjoyed,” Peter scoffed, reaching down and swiping his fingers along your wet pussy, smirking when your wetness dripped down his thick digits, “Maybe a little too much... huh princess?”

You only whined in response, sticking out your tongue when he hovered his drenched fingered over your mouth. He slid them in slowly, letting your taste linger in the back of your throat. He couldn’t help but imagine his cock instead, just like you were moments ago. So obedient, taking it how slow or fast he was giving it to you.

Peter couldn’t wait to fuck your tight little cunt, to use it like his own personal fuck doll. It was his fantasy ever since he saw you walk into the lab with Steve, introduced as the new secretary to the avengers, dressed in the most innocent black skirt that hugged your ass perfectly and baby pink button up. 

But it was Wanda’s fantasy too.

“Hey!” he exclaimed when he was forced off your body. Before you fell back against the sheets, you were raised once again in the air by Wanda’s magic, this time placed gently down on your back. The webs around your wrists disappeared, your arms quickly raised and put against the headboard, your thighs spread open, leaving you completely vulnerable. 

“Don’t forget she’s ours to share.” Wanda smiled sweetly, wrapping her arms around the base of your thighs, bringing her face close to your pussy, “So if you want to be useful, web her up again.”

She didn’t wait for an answer, licking a bold stipe up the length of your sex with her tongue. You let out a loud whine from the back of your throat, trying your best not to scream at the contact. But Wanda didn’t like that you were holding back, she wanted you to scream under her pleasure, she wanted you begging for her, shouting her name for the entire building to know that you were hers.

And Peter’s too she guessed.

To lost in the pleasure, you didn’t notice when Peter webbed your hands once again until you frantically tugged at the retrains, whining and moaning when you couldn’t do anything but take and take until you couldn’t anymore. You wanted nothing more than to run your hands through Wanda’s perfect red hair or grab onto Peter’s wrist when he wrapped his fingers around your neck. But you couldn’t, you weren’t allowed and you accepted that quickly.

Especially when you enjoyed being used by the two avengers so much, to the point of pure insanity.

“Taste so good kitten,” Wanda mumbled into your pussy, the vibration of her voice sending shocks up your body. You jerked your hips against her face, desperate for more. She was quick to push them back against the sheets with the flick of her wrist, gently sucking your clit before letting the bud go with a pop, flicking it with her tongue.

You felt something flick of your nipple at the same time, a warm hand landing on the sensitive skin, drawing your attention to your chest. Peter looked up at you with dark eyes, blocking you from seeing Wanda but giving you an equally arousing view. 

His lips latched on to your left bud, sucking and swirling his tongue expertly while playing with your right breast. The combination of the pleasure was enough to bring you closer and closer your your high, climbing and climbing until you couldn’t take it anymore

“Wanda! Peter! I’m gonna- i’m gonna-” you threw your had back when Peter decided to lightly bit your nipple, the hero snickering when he cut off your sentence. Wanda chuckled as well, letting her digits roam over your gushing hole before slipping two of them in easily, drawing out a scream from your body.

“You’re going to what princess?” Peter teased, kissing up the middle of your chest and neck, sucking the tissue and creating his own mark, branding you as his.

“Do you want to cum kitten? Do you want to cum all over my fingers like a good little whore.” Wanda muttered but loud enough for you to hear over Peter working on your neck.

“Yes Wanda, please! Please let me cum! Please! Please! Please!” you cried, your thighs shaking from holding it in for so long. Even if they never demanded you to ask for permission, something told you that that’s what they would’ve wanted.

“Then go ahead kitten,” she whispered, quickening her fingers to an impossible pace, plunging them in and out of you, hitting all the right places over and over again, “Let go.”

You wasted no time, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave with the simple command. Your body went into overdrive, trying to move away when Wanda continued her assault on your fucked out pussy, only slowing down when she knew you rode it out fully.

Peter swallowed your whimpers, pressing his lips against yours, moving them slowly to calm you down from such an intense moment. You melted into the kiss, whimpering with every breath you took until they lessened into small exhales.

While Peters hands stayed on each side of your cheek, Wanda’s began moving hers up your body, soothing you with her touch. As her palm moved up your form, it was like an instant calm washed over you, letting you fully relax into the cloud like sheets.

“Thank you,” you whispered when Peter pulled back, letting you finally look up to the two sets of eyes peering down at you, “Thank you.”

Wanda smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead, swiping some of the hair that covered the now sweaty skin.

“Anything for you kitten,” she said, sending a small glare to Peter when he lightly shoved her to kiss your neck once again, directly over the mark he made earlier. She was ready to get petty but then she remembered the art piece she made between your thighs and let the hero have his moment.

“You did so well Y/n,” she smiled, kissing your nose sweetly, “But you know the night is far from over right?”

You nodded lazily, to lost in the feeling of Peter’s lips to fully process your words. So she grabbed your jaw, forcing your eyes on hers.

“Did you forget that you spoke out of turn kitten? I never gave you permission to do that,” Peter laughed harshly into your neck, bitting the skin to get a yelp out of your mouth as Wanda continued, “But I was nice, I let you cum all over the fucking bed like the little whore you are. Even Peter was kind enough to do his own work on you, such a generous boy isn’t he?”

Peter grumbled at Wanda’s words, biting your neck once again in retaliation. He liked drawing out noises from you, knowing that it was because of him. He couldn’t wait to dive in your pussy, owning it as his even if it fully wasn’t. As long as his name was screamed from your mouth he would be satisfied.

“You’re in for a long week kitten,” she tutted, opening the closet with a little wiggle of her fingers, pulling out her strap-on and resting it at the edge of the bed, letting your eyes linger on the toy, “A very, very long week.”

You whimpered, thoughts of Wanda fucking you with the rubber. Maybe she could take you from behind while Peter fucked your face or maybe the opposite way around. And while you knew it would never happen judging by the competitiveness between the two, you couldn't help but let your mind run to the both of them enjoying the toy, leaving you tied to the bed, helpless and forced to watch them pleasure each other.

The thought sounded like a dream.

“And Y/n?” Wanda’s voice broke you out of your fantasy.

You squeaked.

“My name isn’t Wanda anymore, neither is Peter’s,”

Her eyes flashed red, the soft persona she showed only seconds ago completely gone. She squeezed your jaw open, spitting directly into your mouth, tilting your head back delicately and watching as you swallowed.

“We’re your Masters now princess,” Peter said lowly into your ear, reaching down to play with your sensitive heat, “And I think it’s time you address us as such.”

...

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Crossed out means couldn’t tag :(

[robininthelabyrinth]

Toxicity - ao3

- part 4 -

As the poison slid down his throat Nie Mingjue’s body began to rebel against him, his limbs beginning their familiar thrashing, his spine arching until it nearly cracked, his meridians swelling as poison rather than spiritual energy began to fill them up – his veins starting to burst, one after the other, the agony excruciating –

“Let him go!” a voice roared, the vibration of it deep enough to shake his bones like the rumbling of approaching thunder. He’d never heard that voice before in this life, and yet he knew it at once.

Lan Xichen.

Jin Guangyao’s head jerked back, startled, and he turned with horrified eyes, saying, “Er-ge, wait, listen to me –”

“I’ve had enough listening to you,” Lan Xichen said, and it must be him, even if Nie Mingjue didn’t actually recognize must be his dragon form, too: long and sinuous, shining blue and white, with antlers rising from his forehead, five-clawed and noblest of all creatures – the celestial dragon, the imperial dragon. The dragon that his parents had met before his birth; the dragon, he realized, that had so conveniently helped him win the battle against the Wen sect only a little while ago. Yet his eyes were unmistakable, the same as ever. “I’ve been listening to you for all our lives, A-Yao, and yet it was only in listening this past ke that I think I’ve actually heard what you really think.”

“Er-ge –”

“You don’t have the right to call me that!” Lan Xichen shouted, his voice the boom of a thunderclap when the storm’s center was right above your head. “You lost that right when you murdered the brother we swore our oaths with, all those years ago!”

Lan Xichen advanced forward and Jin Guangyao retreated, step by step, but he still had Nie Mingjue’s head curled in his claws, forcing Nie Mingjue to be dragged along with him in his retreat, body still spasming as he choked on the poison.

“Let him go, A-Yao,” Lan Xichen said. “Let him live. This is between us – the pain and grudges of a past life are nothing to him.”

“You’re the one who brought him back,” Jin Guangyao said. “You – we were happy, weren’t we? Just you and me. We don’t need him. He was always bad for us: angry at everything, always sticking his nose where it wasn’t needed, always judging me…er-ge, you don’t know how it was when you weren’t there! You don’t know how cruel he could be to me –”

“So you’ve been saying all these years,” Lan Xichen said. “I don’t care. Even if A-Jue wronged you in the past, that has nothing to do with him now! He has done nothing to you in this life. Nothing but honor and respect you, speak highly of you and be your friend, and yet it turns out that you’ve been tormenting him – torturing him – ever since he was born!”

“Er-ge…”

“No! I won’t hear it. I don’t want to hear any of your excuses, any reasons. I’ve always supported you, A-Yao, I always believed you when you said that you had no choice but to do as you did, each and every time, when you blamed your heritage or your reputation or – or anything, anything at all, as long as it was someone else’s fault.” Lan Xichen shook his head, and there were tears streaming down his cheeks, clinking as they fell to the ground as the purest of gems. “If Nie Huaisang hadn’t told me why it was that A-Jue was so convinced that he would die young…if he hadn’t told me the whole story of what had happened after I fell asleep all those years ago…you were planning on making me murder him, weren’t you? I heard you just now, you said so yourself. You wanted me to kill him with my own two hands.”

Jin Guangyao’s throat worked, Nie Mingjue could see it with his rapidly fading vision, but he said nothing, his wicked snake’s silver tongue finally defeated by itself.

“A-Yao…is it him that you hate? Or is it me?” A pause. “Do you even remember any more?”

There was more, Nie Mingjue thought, after that, but he no longer had the strength to hold on to hear it. His eyes slowly slid closed, the lack of air and the influence of poison finally overwhelming him, and he knew no more.

His last sight was of Lan Xichen.

And then -

Warm lips pressed onto his, a by now familiar sensation, and Nie Mingjue unexpectedly opened his eyes once more, and his first sight was Lan Xichen standing above him – but not the same. He wore the human form that Nie Mingjue knew so well, the one he’d welcomed to his bed all those times, but not, as he now knew, the reality.

“You’re a dragon,” Nie Mingjue said to him.

Lan Xichen nodded.

“You didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” Lan Xichen admitted. “In the beginning, I only wanted to get to know this new version of you – you were my friend, back then, from childhood onwards, and I always cared deeply for you. I had no illusions that he, you, had returned to me as you once were; the soul may be the same, but the environment in which one is raised shapes the personality just as much. I just wanted to assure myself that you were doing well.”

Nie Mingjue nodded. “And then?”

Lan Xichen sighed. “And then you were – marvelous. Utterly marvelous. From the very first moment we met, you took my breath away.”

“Righteous and unyielding, straightforward and upright,” Nie Mingjue recited, having heard it many times over. Enough to make him sick, really.

“Not just that,” Lan Xichen said, surprising him. “You have all of A-Jue’s innate virtues, his righteousness, his confidence, his quick wit and fearless heart, but not his overweening pride, his rigidity and indiscriminate preference for tradition, his tendency to be aloof and distant and to disregard all manner of mercy and kindness if it interfered with his conception of truth. You’re quicker to anger, less retrained; you’re more thoughtful, more willing to admit your feelings, to accept that you might be wrong, that tradition might be wrong…you’re reckless with yourself, but not with others; you’re careful. Your devotion to justice and truth is just as strong as ever, but you think more about circumstances, about hidden pressures, you don’t take things at face value…” He sighed once more. “I never meant to fall in love with you, in this life. I’d intended for you to carry on living as any other man might. I thought you might get married, perhaps have children…but you won my heart all over again.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Lan Xichen said. “As soon as the war was over and we were properly engaged, formally and in the eyes of our family – you pick an auspicious date for a marriage based on the eight characters of one’s birth, after all, and my birth year is…rather idiosyncratic.”

Nie Mingjue couldn’t help his lips from quirking up. He could imagine exactly how Lan Xichen would have managed that inelegant conversational segue.

“Anyway, it wouldn’t have been that much of an issue,” Lan Xichen said. “While I myself was born a dragon, it isn’t impossible for one with the correct bloodline to rise from human to dragon, just as A-Yao – as Jin Guangyao did.”

“The Jin sect…?”

“Flood dragons in their lineage, if you go back far enough,” Lan Xichen confirmed. “Jin Guangyao was the son of one of their sect leaders, and – ah –”

“A prostitute?” Nie Mingjue guessed, voice dry.

“…yes. He saved my life through chance – or at least, I thought it was through chance, back then, and now I suppose I’ll never know. At any rate, I thought he saved my life, so I helped him reawaken his draconic bloodline and brought him to the Dragon Gate, transforming him from human into one of us. It was me that introduced him to you, in our past life, and me who pushed for the three of us to swear brotherhood…”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Nie Mingjue said, already knowing where Lan Xichen’s mind was going. “You trusted him. That is not a bad thing.”

“Perhaps,” Lan Xichen said, although he didn’t seem convinced. “When you were dying in your past life, I realized it at the final moment and came to your side – too late to stop it, but in time to ask you to give me permission to claim your soul, to look for a chance to allow you to be reborn through me rather than left to the whims of the wheel of reincarnation. You agreed, and I carried you with me ever since, right up until your own distant descendants came and begged me to help them have a child.”

“My descendants?” Nie Mingjue asked, surprised. “But I thought – you and I –”

Lan Xichen shrugged. “It was tradition. He was expected to marry and have children, and so he did. He never lied to his wife about it, always honored and respected her. He considered what we shared to be completely different from that.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Nie Mingjue said.

“I know,” Lan Xichen said, and his voice was warm. “I know. Anyway, I never told Jin Guangyao that I was keeping your soul with me – he never asked about you unless I raised the subject first, which I should have noticed, and at the time I didn’t want to raise his hopes unnecessarily – and I think it came as a nasty surprise to him. It never occurred to me that he might have been the one to kill you back then, nor that he would act against you in this life. If I’d known, I would never have let him.”

“I know,” Nie Mingjue said, and reached to take his hand. “He’s gone now, isn’t he?”

Lan Xichen nodded.

“That’s all that matters, then. I don’t blame you for anything he did.”

“You forgive me?”

“For what? You didn’t harm me.”

Lan Xichen smiled, and Nie Mingjue wanted, as always, to kiss him. “For not telling you the truth soon enough, at least?”

Nie Mingjue shrugged. “May as well blame me for not telling you the story of my eight-year curse sooner. If I had, we would have figured out the whole thing much earlier, wouldn’t we?”

That surprised a laugh out of Lan Xichen. “Yes, I suppose so…I’ve removed most of Jin Guangyao’s toxin from your body. The rest is buried very deep, but that’s nothing I can’t solve, given some time. There shouldn’t be any more pain, not at any time.”

“He was poisoning me,” Nie Mingjue abruptly realized. “When he was Meng Yao – I thought the deterioration was accelerating, but it wasn’t, was it? He was just poisoning me, even as he brought me all sorts of medicine to dull the pain…he must have been laughing at me behind my back.”

“That seems likely,” Lan Xichen said, and he looked sad.

“And now…no pain at any time? Even – my birthday –”

Lan Xichen shook his head.

“I’ve never had a birthday without pain,” Nie Mingjue said wonderingly. “Even on the years when I didn’t have to lock myself in the saber tombs, I usually spent it in my rooms, meditating, to avoid making any mistakes…other people have parties, don’t they? Or – a nice dinner, or something?”

“Yes,” Lan Xichen said. “Yes, most people…most people celebrate. They’re happy to have been born. I’m sorry that Jin Guangyao’s hatred took that from you.”

“You really do need to stop apologizing for things you haven’t done,” Nie Mingjue said. “I’m already tired of it. Consider it my very first birthday wish, other than all of the ones about surviving past the age of thirty-two – which you’ve also granted, by chance.”

Lan Xichen pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, but he was only partially successful. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll let you take advantage of me this one time. For your first birthday wish.”

“Can I have a second one?” Nie Mingjue said, and raised Lan Xichen’s hand to his lips. “Marry me.”

Lan Xichen’s eyes widened. “Mingjue-xiong?”

“I rather liked A-Jue,” Nie Mingjue said thoughtfully. “No one’s ever called me that, but it has a nice ring to it…I’m serious, Xichen. Marry me. I don’t care if you’re a dragon or a lizard; you’re Lan Xichen. I love you, and I want to marry you.”

Lan Xichen’s eyes were watering.

“If you want to help me become a dragon the way you did Jin Guangyao, I’m open to that, too,” Nie Mingjue said. “Though we’d have to find some way to bring Huaisang along, I can’t bear to be without him, and he’ll probably want to bring some of his friends, too…anyway, why shouldn’t we get married now? The war should be over, shouldn’t it? I don’t think Wen Ruohan really wants to fight any longer. He didn’t seem in very good shape.”

“He’s dead,” Lan Xichen confirmed. “He’d taken in too much of Jin Guangyao’s poison – it was strengthening him, but he couldn’t do without it any longer. I think they’d made a deal a long time ago, enhanced power in exchange for the Wen sect so unceasingly harassing yours.”

“A bad deal on Jin Guangyao’s part,” Nie Mingjue observed. “Our families are ancestral enemies; Wen Ruohan would have attacked me for free. We’ll need to find some Wen branch family members with pacifist tendencies to take over the position, assuming they exist…and you still haven’t answered my proposal, Xichen.”

“Oh!” Lan Xichen exclaimed. “Oh, I mean, that is – of course! Of course I’ll marry you! You foolish man, did you ever think, even for a moment, that I wouldn’t?”

Nie Mingjue smiled.

A moment later, he suddenly blanched.

“A-Jue…?”

“Your family,” he wheezed. “The Lan sect – when I asked for your hand in marriage – they all looked so impressed…! Lan Wangji even…he said I was brave…they know what you are, don’t they?”

Lan Xichen covered his mouth. “Oh no,” he said. “Yes, they do. Wangji’s not actually my brother – they all call me xiongzhang, I prefer it to ‘ancestor’. Even Qiren calls me that, and having to pretend in all those discussion conferences that I was his nephew instead kept giving him heartburn…oh no. I really hadn’t thought of that!”

“He sent me a letter,” Nie Mingjue said, starting to laugh. “Telling me – oh – oh, I like him, he was trying to be considerate…now I understand all the references to doing things slowly to account for size…”

“Oh no. He didn’t! Tell me he didn’t!”

Nie Mingjue was crying from laughter now. “Well?” he said, wiping his eyes and waving his hand. “Let me see you, will you? I couldn’t get a good look last time, I was choking on poison, but I need to see exactly what type of mountain the Lan sect thinks that I’ve been climbing.”

Lan Xichen rolled his eyes at him, but the air in the room all shimmered, and the next thing Nie Mingjue knew the room was full of dragon, with its head placed pointedly in Nie Mingjue’s lap like an overly large dog seeking affection.

Nie Mingjue reached out and ran his fingers along the scales of the face, rubbing up against the base of the delicate antlers, and the dragon began making a rumbling sound of pleasure, more vibration than actual audible sound, not unlike a contented cat.

“I love you,” Nie Mingjue said to him, and Lan Xichen looked up at him. “Marry me.”

“I’ve already said yes,” he said, and the voice of the dragon shook Nie Mingjue’s bones in a way that felt positively pleasant.

“I hadn’t asked you as you truly are,” Nie Mingjue said. “I want you to know that the invitation isn’t just for the human face you put on. I want all of you, however unexpected.”

“You have it,” Lan Xichen said at once. “But only if I get all of you in turn.”

“Well,” Nie Mingjue said. “You drive a tough bargain. But somehow I think we’ll find a way to make it work.”

[inupibaldspot]

金継ぎ | KIN-TSUGI [ A Fruits Basket Fanfiction ]

Chapter 8

Upon hearing news that Isuzu was once again admitted to the hospital, Tsubaki went to visit. The hospital did not have fond memories for Rin yet she always ends up back here.

"305...305..." Tsubaki walked through the hallways as she check for the room Rin was in. Upon finding it, she smiled as she knocked the door and opened it. "Isuzu, I came to visit-"

However Tsubaki noted that she was not alone, she was visited by Honda Tohru. Tsubaki beamed at the visitor. "I see that you came to visit, Tohru-san!"

"Yes!" The girl twirled as she smiled. "I brought some jelly for Isuzu-san. Please help yourself with some if you want."

"I'm good." Tsubaki refused as she looked at Isuzu. Their relationship was rather awkward but there wasn't a doubt that after Tsubaki jumped after Isuzu when she was pushed by Akito, the zodiac member warmed up to her. "I bought some puddings as well."

Isuzu perked up as she looked at Tsubaki immediately. The woman smiled at her nervously. "You loved them a lot as a child. Do you still like them...?"

Isuzu pinked as she turned away. "I don't mind them." Her response made Tsubaki laugh as she put the puddings in the fridge.

"Actually...." Tohru started in an unsure tone. "I actually came here to ask something."

Noticing Tohru's hesitant voice, Tsubaki could guess what she was going to talk about. "Why don't we talk as we walk outside?" Tsubaki looked at Rin. "I'm sure Isuzu can use some fresh air."

As the group walked along the nearby park, Tohru started. "Akito-san told me that her existence is equal to that of God. I also heard about your story from Yuki-kun as well, Tsubaki-san. And that all zodiac members and Tsubaki-san will live with Akito-san. "

"Live in the same place, enduring. Is that bond the curse?" Tohru asked.

"We have no memory of the curse but God made that promise...many many years ago." Isuzu explained as Tsubaki simply listened quietly. "A promise to be together for eternity."

"No matter how many times reborn, we continue to be together, never to be separated, forever and ever." Isuzu explained. "We're bound by that promise. It may seem beautiful to others but to us it is nothing but a burden."

"That's why it's a curse."

"Is there no way to break the curse?" Tohru asked.

"I doubt even if Akito knows how." Rin replied. "Even if Akito knows, he has no reason to tell us."

"I expected someone close to Akito might know so I asked Gure-nii..." Upon hearing Shigure’s name Tsubaki stiffened, the said man was indeed very intelligent. Tsubaki doubts that he already suspects Kureno's curse being broken. "But he said he doesn't know."

"What about Kureno-san?" Tohru asked.

"He is no use." Rin huffed as she turned away. "He's no use since he only follows Akito's orders."

"Please don't say that he is no use." Tsubaki smiled at Tohru's reply but it only further irritated Rin as she said. "I'm only saying what is true."

Then the two became quiet as they slowly turned to Tsubaki, making her laugh. "I don't know how to break the curse as well." Making both Tohru and Rin droop in disappointment.

"But I'll tell you this...Not once has there been an occasion where all of the zodiacs, servant and God been born in the same era, till our turn there was never a complete banquet after the very first one." Tsubaki continued. "Also some of our forms are quite different. Hatori is a seahorse rather than a dragon...Kureno is a bird rather than a rooster."

"Slowly but surely the bond has been weakening. Sometimes I think to myself, if the reason for a complete banquet for our nearing farewell." Tsubaki smiled, her heart hurted as she explained. She wondered if it was the sound of the servant saddened. "Maybe not in this lifetime but this bond is sure to break..."

"That's not alright! If that happens then... Then..." Kyo-kun will leave...  Tohru then flushed as she apologized. "I'm sorry for acting rude."

Tsubaki chuckled. "Don't worry I didn't mind." She then tilted her head. "But then why do you want to break the curse?"

Isuzu as turned to look at Tohru. "The curse has nothing to do with so yet... what is it that you can't give up? What is it that is most important to you?"

Tohru opened her mouth to reply yet no words came out. She stood still as if even she was shocked at her hesitation.

Isuzu quickly noted Tohru's hesitation. "You don't have to tell me..." She continued. "Just don't go running off to see Kureno by yourself."

"If you're going to tell me not to overdo on my own." Tohru smiled at Rin. "Let's team up!"

Rin's eyes widened before she turned away and walked away from Tohru. "I don't need an unreliable partner like you."

Tsubaki smiled at the two girls, as her heart warmed. Isuzu has become much more kind...

 ......

 When people hear the word servant, in the Sohma family, it was to be looked with pity. Mainly due to the fact that the servant, if their God was not born, lived only till their fifties.

They would die very young since their soul's owner did not exist with them so they would desperately try and leave to go back to their God. They would die by accidents, take their own life or simply die a natural death. The servant was more fragile than anything else.

Imagine the uproar when people learned that the servant was born into the head family. Tsubaki heard that her father cried day and night, apologizing to the newborn baby who was yet to understand the world.

"I'm sorry I gave you a life where you would leave before you could fully enjoy the beauty of life." How ironic it was that he was the one who died young.

Her mother frowned but she did not weep like her father. "That's unfortunate."

The family who the previous servant belonged to was deeply insulted. The reason being the previous servant had died by hanging himself. The young servants born prided themselves and felt immense joy as they waited to serve their master and when they knew their God would not be born their heart will fall into abyss.

Tsubaki continued to play the instrument as she finally came out of her thoughts. Maybe it was due to the fact that they were in their new year’s banquet, Tsubaki felt quite sentimental as she pulled the last string of her kōtō, ending the beautiful performance of Hatori. After that their feast commenced and after they were done eating ,the banquet became less formal as the zodiacs members indulged themselves in small talks.

Tsubaki who was looking at the group noticed Yuki was in deep thoughts even though he was sitting beside Akito.

Akito turned to look at Yuki as she smiled. "You didn't run away this time? I'm happy you returned back to me so I'll forgive you..."

"It’s not the matter of forgiving or not." Tsubaki heard Yuki say, as her eyes widened. Did he just say Akito was wrong? "I'm sick of blaming others. I have become aware of my faults and areas I can improve."

"If I always blame someone or something, I’ll never change." Tsubaki stood up from her seat as she could feel those words meant Yuki has changed. And change meant leaving a part of ourselves behind so we can embrace a better part. Change meant leaving...

Before Tsubaki could interrupt, in a blink of an eye Akito stood up and hit Yuki with the sake bottle making it break into small multiple pieces.

"Yuki!" Tsubaki ran to Yuki who had blood dripping on his face as Kureno stood up and immediately restrained Akito who kept shouting at Yuki.

"Apologize! I said apologize!" Akito would have sure hit Yuki if Kureno had not retrained her. Tsubaki stood up to get Hatori who went outside.

"Sorry..." Yuki did as told. Apologizing to Akito was always the easy way out. Tsubaki returned with Hatori as they both went to Yuki's side.

"Because of you, my head hurts." Akito let go of the broken sake bottle as she walked away.

"Yuki, press this on your head!"

Akito turned around hearing Tsubaki's voice. Did she not hear me? I said my head hurt... Her older sister sat beside Yuki with a worried expression on her face. Shouldn't you be prioritizing me, Tsubaki?!

Akito winches as she feels another throbbing pain due to her headaches as she walks away

 .....

 "I don't want to talk with those people ever again...." Akito complained.

Tsubaki sighed beside her. "It can't be helped, we have to keep this up for formalities." Akito and Tsubaki had returned from a meeting with some of the people belonging to the main family. There, the head and the rest would have some tea simply for the sake of formalities. Akito hated these things.

"We'll return to you room now as Hatori will be coming soon for your checkup." Tsubaki explained as she walked behind Akito.

"Is there anyone I will be meeting after that?" Akito asked as she kept walking. Upon receiving a 'no' as an answer, Akito continued. "Then bring Kureno to me after that."

Tsubaki ignored the sudden pain in her chest as she nodded. "Of cour-... Hatori?"

Akito stopped walking as she stared in Tsubaki's directly. Along the long hallway, there was Hatori standing as if he was talking to someone and the next moment a hand reached out for Hatori making both Akito and Tsubaki stiffen.

"Hatori!" Akito cried in panic as she immediately rushed his side as she pushed him away. "How many times do I have to tell you to keep your distance from her?"

Hatori shook his head. "Akito, it’s not like that. She was only saying hello."

"That's right, I was only saying hello. What's so wrong about it?" The door further opened as the owner of the voice walked out. It was Sohma Ren.

Akito glared. "You leer at any zodiac man you see..." She took a step forward as she shouted. "Go back into your room!"

"If you continue to speak like that they won't like you anymore." Ren ran her hands through her hair as she something caught her attention. "You're here too, Tsubaki."

"Good evening, mother..."

"Mother is sorry for saying those things last time... So come to me later, we can catch up okay?" Ren took one step towards her, as her hands reached out to cup her face. But then it was slapped away.

"Stop meddling with our bond!" Akito once again stepped in. "We are connected in a world that you can't reach!"

"What nonsense!" Ren scoffed as she mocked Akito. "How many time do I have to tell you that those bonds aren't real love? That eternally unchanging concept you cherish is fake! It's just a fantasy..."

"I pity Tsubaki and the zodiac members who have to put up with you..."

These words snapped something within Akito, as in a flash she grabbed Ren by her collars pushing her through the numerous sliding doors and into the rough courtyard.

Hatori and Tsubaki ran after them. Akito glared at Ren as she sat on her, strangling her mother. "How about you tell me what real then?! Parental love?!"

"That is not perfect! Lots of parents abandon their children like most of the Sohma parents! Like you!" Hatori successfully pulled Akito away as Tsubaki held Ren who was coughing from the lack of air. The maids nearby upon seeing the commotion ran in.

Akito kept shouting as she tries to pull away from Hatori, ready to kill Ren. "Who are you to define what's real or not?! No has the right to deny the bond between me and the zodiacs or our eternity!"

Ren glared as she walked towards Akito, however Tsubaki quickly grabbed onto her but then it did not stop Ren from shouting. "The real thing exists! Akira-san and I have the real bond."

Akito tightened her jaw as she shouted on top of her voice. "I'll kill you!"

"Go ahead kill me." Ren opened her arms. "When I die, my soul will be in heaven with Akira-san! I have no need for any of you!"

"What are you doing?!" Tsubaki shouted at the maids who were nearby. "Do you think this is a show for you to spectate?! Take mother away from the head of the family!"

At Tsubaki's raised voice, every one stiffened. The maids gulped as they rushed in and escorted Ren away.

"She is cruel..." Akito cried. "Why is she so cruel...?”

Tsubaki walked towards her and embraced Akito. "We are here Akito...The bond still exists with you being in the center of all of it."

She felt Akito grip onto her kimono as her little sister kept crying. "We didn't leave you. We never will since our bond is for eternity..." After a while, Akito calmed down.

Tsubaki stepped away as Hatori then picked up Akito and carried her back to her residence.

 .....

 When Akito was young... When Sohma Akira was still alive, Akito was a lively child who really adored her sister.

Young Akito would always cling onto Tsubaki and Tsubaki would always tend to spoil Akito a lot, often she would get lectured by the head maid for that. This was a memory from way back...

So why was Akito acting like that in the present as well? Akito refused to let Tsubaki out of her side, often making her work in Akito's room.

A ring of a phone intruded the silence between Tsubaki and Akito. Akito looked up from her book as she stared at Tsubaki. "Answer the phone. Don't leave the room..."

Tsubaki was confused but nevertheless she nodded as she looked at who was calling her. It was Rin's homeroom teacher.

"Hello Sohma-san?" The person from the other side of the phone spoke. "This is Sohma Isuzu's teacher. I wanted to inform you that Sohma Isuzu did not attend her graduation ceremony."

Tsubaki's eyes widened. Akito clicked her tongue as she approached her. Rin's teacher continued. "I wanted to ask if I could get-" Akito snatched the phone away from Tsubaki as she then turned it off and went a step further to delete the contact.

"Akito, this was an important call." Tsubaki frowned as Akito went back to her seat as she flipped through a book.

‘'You know how I feel about Rin..." Akito muttered. "I don't want to hear about her so better also not call that person back!"

Tsubaki sighed but she listened. A few days later Tsubaki got another call. It was Hatsuharu.

Tsubaki was still with Akito. The latter raised an eyebrow as she muttered. "Who is it?"

"It's Hatsuharu." The answer gave satisfaction to Akito as her attention was no longer on her.

"What is it, Hatsuharu?" Tsubaki went straight to the point. "It’s rare for you to call me."

"Tsubaki-nee." Haru started. "Do you know which Hospital Rin is admitted in?"

Isuzu? Hospital? What was he talking about? She was totally confused. Tsubaki was never informed on such matter. "What do you mean?"

"Huh? You didn't know?" Hatsuharu was even more shocked. Tsubaki always kept tab on the zodiac members whereabouts more focused on Rin as the girl was reckless.

He sighed as his final hope was gone. "If you don't know then never mind. See ya~"

"Wait! Hatsuharu-" Before she could even inquire more, the call ended. Tsubaki then immediately stood up as she walked towards the door.

Akito shouted. "Where are you going?!"

"Akito..." Tsubaki let out a breath. "Apparently Isuzu has been hospitalized. I haven't gotten any words on the matter so I wanted to go check."

"Ahh~" Akito smiled. "I heard about it. I was told to inform you but I forgot. Apparently she is fine so you don't need to go check on her..."

Tsubaki turned to face Akito. "But still, I think I should visit her once-"

"Are you leaving me?"

Tsubaki bit her lips. "Of course not! I'll return as soon as I check up on her..."

"So you are picking her over me..." Akito walked up to Tsubaki as she slowly wrapped her arms around her. Akito then whispered close to her ears. "How cruel..."

"Stay with me... You know I love you more than anyone else. My heart breaks that I'm no longer your top priority." Akito spoke in gentle a gentle manner. "Choose me, Tsubaki Onee-san..."

Tsubaki's hands fell beside her all limb. Inside she knew she needed to go, something about this situation was weird and even Akito was acting suspicious. But then every time she tried to move, her body felt heavy as she ultimately fell into Akito's submission.

Days after that as similar to the day before. Akito still held Tsubaki close to her and would not let her go anywhere along. As Tsubaki flipped the pages she was reading, the door to the room was suddenly opened gaining the attention of both Tsubaki and Akito.

Hatsuharu stood by the door with a furious expression. The head maid showed up a second later as she shouted. "Hatsuharu-san,you may be a zodiac member but you can't barge in like that."

"Shut up." Haru muttered. "Get out of here, hag"

Tsubaki immediately stood up as she approached Haru. "Hatsuharu, you're being rude!"

Akito smiled as she then stood up from her seat. "It seems that Haru is here for me to speak something important." Akito dismissed the maid. "Now go ahead."

Haru lowered his eyes as his hands tightened to a fist. "Why did you push Rin?"

"Me? Push Isuzu?" Akito asked. "First time I've heard of it. Who told you that?"

"An oracle."

Hearing his response Akito giggled to herself. "As usual you're being stupid."

"Stop laughing." Akito in return glared at Haru. Haru seemed to get more furious as time went by. "Why did you do it? Were you trying to kill her?"

Akito hummed as she then turned away. "You believe in an oracle yet you don't believe in me, your God. You've always been kind to her. Why? Do you pity her?"

Tsubaki flinched as Haru punched the wall. "Because I believe her!" As he kept shouting. "You already know that yet you purposely keep asking me that. Where is Rin?"

Akito scoffed as her back faced Akito. "What a worthless conversation? Where did you get such ideas?"

"You always treated Rin coldly... not only her but to all girls." Haru asked as he took a step towards Akito. "You say and do cruel things without blinking. If you’re supposed to be God then-" Haru raised his voice as he walked towards Akito.

Tsubaki stepped in as she stood in between Akito and Haru. "Hatsuharu, back off. “ Tsubaki glared.

Haru stood his ground. "Why are you still by Akito's side? She always tormented you as well."

"I said back off, Hatsuharu!" Tsubaki raised her voice.

Hatsuharu let out a breath. "Just tell me where she is..."

"How persistent..." Akito muttered. "Stop asking. Stop always making me the bad guy every-"

Akito was cut off as someone entered the room. "We sent her to the hospital." It was Kureno. "Hatori nii-san took her by a car. She wasn't fully conscious but don't worry. I was told it wasn't life threatening."

"Huh?" Tsubaki let out a sound. "But Akito you said she was already in a hospital few days ago. What does Kureno mean by this?"

Kureno walked towards Akito. "You mustn't do things like that. No matter who you are there should be a limit to what you shouldn't do."

"Where was she?" Haru asked.

Kureno turned and looked at Tsubaki who had her eyes still widened with her face getting paler. "She was locked in the Cat's place." Akito gasped as she grabbed Kureno claiming her had betrayed her.

Before anyone could move, Haru grabbed Akito by the collar. "Cut the bullshit, you little bastard! Were you trying to kill her again?"

"What I was! It's because you choose her over me." Akito hissed. "You're the one who dug her grave."

Wordlessly Tsubaki placed a hand on Haru's as she separated them. Akito gleamed. "Tell him I'm right Tsubaki...Tsubaki?"

Tsubaki was crying. Tears were falling through her empty eyes. She shouldn't have trusted Akito so blindly. All she got in return was betrayal. She shouldn't have loved Akito.

"I'm sorry..." Tsubaki said as she walked away from the group. "I want some time alone."

Akito gasped as she quickly held onto Tsubaki's waist. What if Tsubaki left and never returned back to her. "No! Don't go Tsubaki..."

Tsubaki pulled herself away as she turned to Akito one last time before she left the room.

"You can't expect love in return when all you do is hurt others, Akito..." Tsubaki cried. "I'm tired of this...I'm so tired..."

 Next Chapter: "You Fought Well..."

masterlist

[one-boring-person]

You Asked For It.

John Spartan x reader

Warnings: sexual themes heavily implied, some injury detail, swearing

Context: John has to teach the reader a few things ;)

A/n: this wasn't what I originally had in mind to write, but it happened, so here it is!

Masterlist

"Is that a punch bag?" John sounds mildly surprised as he steps in behind me, eyeing my domicile with interest. 

Glancing over at the looming shape, I smile fondly and go further into the room, calling out for the lights as I go, illuminating the poster-laden walls and memorabilia-filled shelves. I grin, gesturing to a particular wall, where a very familiar poster is stuck to the wall, the trinkets placed meticulously on the shelf well-known to the other cop.

"It is. I watched a couple of Rocky movies and got into boxing." I shrug, for once glad that my double life between Cocteau's world and Friendly's rebellion has meant my speech is more like John's.

"You like Rocky?" He questions again, turning an amused smirk on me, "You've got taste."

"Thanks." I chuckle, ignoring the flush of heat rising to my cheeks, "Do you want anything to eat or drink? I still only have the old stuff, though."

"No, I'm good, thanks. Could use the bathroom, though." He declines, removing his hat and placing it on the table to his left, leaving his stun baton with it.

"Just over there." I point to the room, smiling shyly as he thanks me and goes into it, the doors closing behind him smoothly.

Left to myself, I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding, before I collect myself and move off towards my wardrobe of clothes, swiftly picking something out. Stripping off, I change into these clothes, feeling slightly more at ease as I throw my uniform into a pile, trying my best to calm my racing pulse. The sensations I feel with John around are new and inexplicable, nothing I've ever experienced before, despite my spending half of my life down in the sewers with men and women who didn't abide by Cocteau's rules.

Uncomfortable, I go back over to the table, picking up John's hat as I approach, carefully running my fingers over the soft fabric. It's his old beret, the one from before he was incarcerated in the cryoprison. He insists on wearing it now that our police department has been retrained into a more competent faction, saying it feels better than our own uniform caps. Touching it now, I can see why he might think that - it's one of his only links to the time he came from.

"You alright, (Y/n)?" John's rough voice interrupts my thoughts, snapping me from my reverie as I spring back, dropping the hat with a sharp swallow.

"Y-yes, sorry." I stammer, running a hand through my hair as I try to regain my composure.

John lifts an eyebrow but doesn't push it, watching as I go to the side and take out  a bottle of water, idly punching the punch bag as I step past it, the action pure instinct by now. It rattles loudly on its chain, swinging back and forth from the blow, slowly coming to a halt again as I return to the main room.

"So how long have you been boxing?" John questions me, following me and taking a seat in the square depression in the floor, watching as I sit opposite him.

"Oh, about four years? Maybe longer." I inform him, flexing my hand absentmindedly.

"Four years? Damn, you must be good." He praises, rolling his eyes when the machine by the door buzzes at the sound of his words.

Blushing, I take a sip of water before replying.

"I guess so." I chuckle, embarrassed by the focus on me.

"Is that what happened to your knuckles?" John asks me, gesturing to my hands.

"My knuckles?" I frown, confused.

"Yeah, I noticed you have quite a few scars on your knuckles." He explains, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, right. Yes, the scars are from the boxing." I confirm, placing the bottle down to rub a finger over the ugly scar tissue, "When I started, I never used anything to protect my hands. Eventually it started to hurt, and got pretty bad, so I started wearing gloves."

He nods at this, leaning over with his own hand outstretched, glancing up at me for permission. I nod, offering my arm to him as he gets up and comes to sit beside me. Taking my hand carefully in his, he waits for me to relax into his touch before he starts to softly caress the marks, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. My breath hitches in my throat from his secure grip, my lip pulling between my teeth as I relish the feeling of having him so close to me after so long of having next to no physical contact from another person.

Having noticed my sharp intake of air, John pulls back slightly, lidded eyes flicking up to meet mine.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" He asks quietly, voice somewhat huskier now that he's in closer quarters.

"N-no, it feels...nice…" I admit, turning my face away out of embarrassment again.

After a moment, I feel his fingers gently press against my chin, my eyes widening as he tilts my face towards him.

"Don't be embarrassed, (Y/n). This kinda shit is normal." He hums, lightly caressing my jawline with his thumb as the machine across the room buzzes again.

"R-really?" I stutter, unable to think straight with the feelings his thumb is now stirring up.

"Yeah. Totally normal." He leans closer, our proximity so near now that I can breathe in his comforting scent with each breath, a sense of relaxation flooding me. 

Inexplicably, I become aware of an urge within me, my body wanting nothing more than to lean into him and press itself against his muscular frame, my hands almost itching to smooth over the taut plains of skin I know to be underneath his tight-fitting uniform. Subconsciously, I swallow dryly, still held captive by his dark stare, only now noticing how his pupils have darkened, nearly swallowing the deep brown of his irises.

"Can I kiss you, (Y/n)?" John suddenly asks, his breath fanning out over my face as he speaks, his voice dropping an octave as he watches me for a reaction.

Nerves suddenly explode within me, my eyes widening in panic.

"I, err, um…I've never…" I stumble over my words, flustered by his request, wanting to say yes, but terrified I'll disappoint him.

"You've never kissed anyone? I figured." He chuckles lowly, the sound reverberating through me as he gently reaches around to grip my hip, "I also figured you'd want to learn."

And with that, he drops his other hand to my waist and pulls me over to him, easily manoeuvring me into his lap. Squeaking in surprise, I feel my hands fall to his chest, my legs instinctively wrapping around his lithe waist as he presses himself against me. His fingers gently run over my back, one of his hands coming up to cup my face, pulling it closer to him, our lips brushing ever so lightly against each other.

Tenderly, John presses his mouth to mine, the action careful and caring, allowing me space to pull back if I want to. Unsure of what to do, I allow my instincts to take over, glad now that I watched Huxley's movie collection with her, remembering how some of the romantic scenes in those played out. Moving hesitantly with him, I kiss back, heat rushing through me as my heart pounds loudly in my ears, my hands gingerly moving up to cars through his dark hair. Smiling slightly, he pulls me closer, kissing a little harder as my eyes fall closed, pleasure flooding me, my body relaxing into John's grip. He sweeps his large hands up my body, rubbing my back reassuringly as he pulls back for air, watching me closely again.

"How was that?" He husks, licking his lips.

"Amazing…" Is all I can manage, breathless from the kiss, my heart still racing.

"Good." John grins, leaning in to kiss me again, holding me tightly against him as his lips smooth over mine, a groan escaping him as I accidentally pull on his hair, "Careful, or kissing won't be the only new thing you'll try tonight."

The promise behind his words makes me gulp, an odd desire sparking to life within me as his hands slide down to cup my ass, using it to pull me closer to his torso. Curiously, I let my hips jump forwards a little, relishing in the way his hands tighten around me and a guttural groan falls from his lips.

"Alright, you asked for it." He growls playfully, a smirk on his lips.

All of a sudden, I find myself on my back, the dark haired man hovering over me briefly before he plasters his lips over mine again, grinding his hips down onto mine. From the new sensation, I can't help the moan that escapes me, every new sensation unfamiliar to me yet so very welcome. Chuckling, John pulls away and kisses down my neck, mouthing at my pulse as he goes, drawing louder sounds from me.

"You're gonna love this." He promises me, speaking against my skin.

A low shiver goes through my body at his words.

[laminy]

Hello dear, how are you getting on?

Hello, friend, whomever you may be! 💖

I’ll be honest that this hasn’t been the best week ever for me. It’s been one week in my new apartment, and some things are really rough (there have been some problems with the roommates, and the neighbours), and some things are very up in the air (right after deciding to rent to me, the landlord decided to sell the house, so I may have to go through the process of finding another place again, which is really hard here).

Also, where I live, we’ve been under this round of lockdown since November, and we’re currently under a six week stay-at-home order, nothing is open, there’s nowhere we’re allowed to go. Plus vaccines are moving really slowly, I don’t know anyone here who’s gotten one. It’s getting really tiring and lonely and they’re definitely just screwing everything up. I worry I won’t be able to see any friends or family this year either.

Then that’s on top of the fact that my supervisor wants to change part of my job, and retrain me on a bunch of new stuff, which I already find really stressful and it hasn’t even started yet.

I did take a couple days off this week just to try to relax and chill out and give myself a break. Which, on one hand sort of worked. I’ve been reading, I’ve been writing! Which I think has been going well, but it’s sad to get so close to the end 😞 But at the same time, I just don’t feel that well. It’s probably the worst I’ve felt in awhile. So, it’s a struggle. Without being too specific about my thoughts right now, they’re all quite negative.

The Dodgers are doing well, though.

This is probably not the essay you were expecting but it’s comforting to know someone cares enough to ask so I tend to overshare. But thank you for asking. I hope you’re well, and I appreciate it, and you.

[fanfalc-616]

@boom-fanfic-a-latta

Here’s my Plasma Prison “snippet” that’s over seven pages

(Yes I watched the movie for this)

Fleeing from the crazy horse- Lloyd, his harness had said- Red Shogun ducks into a cave, and finally manages to lose him.

With a quiet sigh of relief, he heads deeper in, only to find that it’s not a cave, just a small tunnel in the rock.

Frowning, he blinks when he finds a large clearing with a tall tower.

Shaking his head, he turns to go back out through the tunnel- but then he pauses a few moments, a smile forming on his face.

“Horses can’t climb towers.” He muses to himself, starting to make his way over to it.

He’s got a couple of arrows from the guards in his bag- climbing it will be difficult, but not impossible. But there’s no way that Lloyd would be able to get up there.

So with a grin, Red goes up the tower and starts the climb, using the arrows as picks in order to get a grip between the stones. It takes almost an hour, but he makes it to the top, and climbs in through a large conveniently placed window, closing the doors to it behind him.

After panting for a few moments, that grin shows up again, and he sighs. “Finally, I’m alone.”

Then there’s a sharp ringing pain in the back of his head, and everything goes dark.

{ { { { { { { { { { ~ } } } } } } } } } }

Jay gives a small shriek as he smacks the man on the back of the head with the only weapon-like thing he could find- a frying pan. The guy crumples to the ground, and as soon as he does, Jay quickly backs off to a safe distance, holding the pan between him and the spiky-haired stranger.

But the guy just lays there, unmoving except for his soft breathing.

Slowly, warily, Jay creeps closer, until there’s only a small space between them. Steeling himself, he gently pokes the stranger with his frying pan, trying to gauge if he’s really unconscious.

The guy doesn’t move, and Jay glances over at Cole, who only shrugs and eyes the intruder with just as much wariness as Jay feels.

Swallowing, he uses the pan to tilt the guys head to the side, trying to get a better look at him.

Hmm… he doesn’t look evil or anything. Oh, but how can Jay be sure?! This guy might be some kind of crazy cannibal like the ones Nadakhan had warned him about, or-

Cole gets his attention by jumping, and he gestures to the small painting of a guy with fangs that Nadakhan had painted earlier.

That’s it! If this guy is evil, he’ll probably have some kind of fangs!

Trying to keep his hands from shaking, Jay uses the pan to move the stranger’s lip up, breathing a soft sigh of relief when he sees that his teeth have the normal amount of sharpness.

But as he looks closer at the guy's face, an odd feeling starts to settle inside of him. Studying his features, he thinks back to that romance novel he has. This guy is actually attract-

“Wha…” The guy blinks, waking up.

With a loud scream, Jay bashes the frying pan into his face.

Then he just stands there for a few moments, unsure of what to do. He- who even is this guy?!

He glances over at Cole, hoping that the lizard can give him some kind of advice.

Cole pauses a moment before gesturing over to a large cabinet.

Jay stares for a moment, uncomprehending. Then it suddenly clicks, and he nods, grabbing the man by the arms and dragging him across the floor.

After almost fifteen minutes of effort, he manages to get the guy inside, and uses a chair to hold the handles in place, hopefully preventing the stranger from escaping.

“Okay. Okay, I just- okay, heh, there’s a person in my closet. A person. In my closet.” Jay feels his eyes widen as the reality of the situation fully dawns on him.

He turns to Cole, feeling panic bubbling up inside of him. “I HAVE A PERSON IN MY CLOSET!” He shrieks.

Cole seems unamused, cocking his head to the side.

Jay tightens his grip on the frying pan. But the fear slowly fades away as excitement floods through his veins.

“I- I have a person in my closet! I fought a person, and I put them in my closet!” He squees cheerfully. “Ha! And Nadakhan said that I’m too weak to handle myself!” He crosses his arms, spinning to look all around the room.

But as he’s looking around, he spots a satchel on the floor- a thing that most definitely does not belong to him.

Frowning, he goes over to it, poking it open. He feels his brows furrow as he reaches inside to find a large gold circlet embroidered with pretty blue gems.

“Shiny…” He mumbles to himself, studying it. After a few moments, he figures it out, and puts it around his forearm.

Cole gives him an unimpressed look and shakes his head.

Okay, so maybe Jay didn’t figure it out.

It takes a few more minutes for him to decide to look in the mirror and actually figure it out.

Gently, he sets the circlet down on his head watching in awe as the blue gems reflect the light on his long orange locks.

——-SKIP BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW HOW TO WRITE NADAKHAN IN THIS CONTEXT BUT HE CAME AND LEFT——-

Jay carefully goes over to the cabinet, slowly pulling the chair away while he backs up. Then he uses his hair as a hook to pull the doors open, bringing it back quickly and adjusting his grip on the pan.

The stranger falls out onto the ground, their face colliding with the floor so loudly that it makes Jay wince.

But then he creeps over and decides that maybe him still being unconscious is a good thing…

After about fifteen minutes, he gets the guy in the chair, using his hair as tough restraints to prevent him from escaping.

Then he drags the chair into the light, and Cole climbs up on the guy’s shoulder, smacking him a few times.

But nothing happens, no matter how many smacks he gives.

So after a quick glance over at Jay, Cole sticks his tongue in his ear.

The guy wakes up with a shout, suddenly pulling against his bonds and jolting enough to send Cole flying off his shoulder.

Jay sucks in a deep breath as he watches the guys fully wake up and adjust to his surroundings. It’s time to get some answers…

{ { { { { { { { { { ~ } } } } } } } } } }

Red jolts, rapidly blinking as he tries to figure out what happened. Where is he? What-

He looks down at himself to find that he’s retrained by a thick rope of thin strands, and… wait a minute, that’s not rope, it’s…. hair?

“Struggling is pointless!” A voice shouts from the shadows, steadily moving closer to him.

Red swallows, trying to get a better look at his captor. What the heck is going on here?

“I know why you came here, and I’m not afraid of you!” The voice snaps, still moving closer.

“What?” Red stares in confusion. Why he’s here- he’s here because he was trying to get away from a feral horse!

And then a guy dressed in blue steps into his sight, and Red can only have one cohesive thought:

This guy is hot.

Well, actually, not really hot. More like adorable with his big eyes and slim frame.

Red feels his mouth go dry as he stares at his captor. This- wow.

“Who are you, and how did you find me?” The ginger demands, eyes narrowing in anger- which would probably be intimidating if he wasn’t so cute.

He can only stare, mentally stumbling for words as he tries to think of something to say in response to the cute guy. Think, brain, think!

“Who are you, and how did you find me?” The guy repeats with more force, raising a frying pan.

Alright, time to be elegant. He can do that. Yeah, he can impress this cute guy, no problem.

Red clears his throat and begins. “I know not who you are, nor how I came to find you. But may I just say…” He trails off for a moment before giving his most charming smile. “Hi.”

The ginger blinks a few times, frying pan lowering ever so slightly as confusion writes itself all over his features.

“How you doing?” Red keeps up his attractive smile. “The name’s Red Shogun.”

Without a response, he continues, trying to get the ginger to speak. “How’s your day going?”

The guy glares at him, grip on the pan tightening. “Alright, Red Shogun. Who else knows my location?”

Red sighs. “Okay then, Ginger-“

“My name is Jay!”

“Anyway, I was just casually going around the forest, when I saw your tower, and-“ Red feels his eyes widen as he remembers what exactly he had been doing. “Wh- where is my satchel?!” He shouts, looking around the room.

Jay smirks, crossing his arms. “I hid it, and it’s now somewhere where you’ll never, ever-“

“It’s in that vase, isn’t it.” Red gives him an unamused look, tone making it clear that it’s not a question, but a fact.

He barely has time to flinch before the frying pan hits him again.

————————————-

Red blinks himself awake. What-

The lizard is sticking its tongue in his ear again-

He jolts, managing to throw the annoying pest away with his sudden movement. “Stop doing that!” He snaps.

“Now I’ve hidden it where you’ll never find it.” Jay corrects with a confident smile.

Red sighs. He should’ve just kept his mouth shut and pretended that he really didn’t know where he had hidden it.

“So what is it that you want with my hair?” Jay gets in his face, eyes narrowing. “To cut it? Sell it? To kidnap me for it?”

“Wha- why would I want your hair?! Look, Ginger, all I want is to leave.” Red decides not to mention how he would also like to kiss him. “So if you just give me my satchel and-“

Jay frowns, pulling back a little. “You don’t want my hair?” He questions, seeming surprised by that.

Red stares at him incredulously. “Why would I want your hair?! Look, I was being chased and I climbed this tower to escape, that’s literally all there is to it.”

The expression of shock he receives is confusing. Why is he so convinced that he wants his hair?

“You- you really mean that?”

“I seriously couldn’t care less about your hair.” Well, he would like to see how fluffy and soft it is, but now feels like a bad time to mention that.

Jay holds out the frying pan, and the lizard crawls down it and gets right up in his face. Red leans back, but it keeps staring at him with its dark eyes.

There’s something wrong with this lizard.

It glares for a few moments before turning back to Jay and nodding.

The ginger, still eyeing him warily, backs off a little, taking the lizard with him.

Red could swear that he’s talking to the reptile, but he honestly doesn’t care at this point. Jay’s cute, sure, but he’s not worth this much trouble.

He starts struggling against the hair that holds him, but before he can make any progress, Jay turns back around, the annoying lizard perched on his shoulder. “Okay, Red Shogun, I’m going to make you a deal.”

“Mm, I’m already not liking this.” Red mumbles to himself.

His complaint is ignored as Jay uses his hair to spin the chair around, forcing Red to look in a new direction. Pulling aside a curtain, the ginger reveals a complicated mechanical contraption that seems to look similar to the annual blue-tinged lanterns.

“Do you know what these are?” Jay demands.

Red stares at him. “Uh, the lantern thing? The annual time when they light up blue-tinged lanterns and send them off into the sky? The thing they do for the missing prince?” Red pauses a moment. “Yeah, never heard of it.” He snarks.

Jay blinks. “Lanterns…” He murmurs. “I knew they weren’t stars!” He quickly redirects his attention to Red. “Tomorrow, the sky is going to be full of these lanterns, and you are going to take me to them, show me them, and take me back home. Then I will give you your satchel.”

He seems rather proud of what he’s come up with, and Red groans. “Look, Ginger, I’m not exactly on good terms with the kingdom at the moment, so I’m not going to be taking you anywhere.”

The proud smile drops, and Jay comes over and gets in his face, gripping him by the collar- a move that's entirely unnecessary considering that Red’s still tied to the chair.

“There’s a reason you’re here, Red Shogun. Something brought you to me. Fate, destiny-”

“A feral horse.”

Jay ignores him. “I have made the decision to trust you-”

“You should really rethink that.”

The ginger leans in even more, close enough that they could kiss. Red tries to ignore the flushing of his face so that he can come up with a comeback for whatever Jay’s about to say.

“But trust me when I tell you this.” Jay narrows his eyes, and Red can feel his hot breath against his skin.

“You could tear this tower apart brick by brick, but without my help, you will never find your satchel.” The electric blue eyes in front of him are startling, and Red finds himself leaning towards agreeing.

But he manages to snap himself out of it before he does.

Okay, he needs to come up with something, and he needs to come up with it fast.

Mind racing, he settles on an idea. “Okay, Ginger, I didn’t want to have to do this, but you’ve left me no choice… here’s the smoulder.” He proceeds to make the most attractive face he can.

Jay just tilts his head, leaning back to put more space between them. “Is that supposed to do something?” He frowns.

With a groan, Red realizes that he’s not going to be getting out of this one. Whatever, it’s only until tomorrow night, and he just has to go on a trip with a cute guy. Surely it won’t be that bad.

“Fine, I’ll take you to the lanterns.”

“YES!” Jay shouts gleefully, letting go of the chair and- and yep, that’s Red’s face colliding with the floor.

“Oh- oh, I’m sorry!” He shrieks, going down to his knees to make sure he’s okay.

Red gives him a pitiful look. “You broke my smoulder.”

Jay apologizes and gets him out of the chair, and then, well… and then they’re on their way.

This is going to be quite the trip.

[ludi-ling]

My journey with mental illness

Dear all,

Since it’s Mental Health Awareness Week in the UK, I wanted to share with you all my own experience with depression and anxiety. This isn’t easy for me to speak about, because, despite years of having this be a part of me, and despite a growing confidence being honest about it with friends, family, strangers and therapists alike, the stigma of having that label attached to you is still so very real. There’s something wrong with you. You’re abnormal. You’re not right.

The truth is, until very recently, I thought I had won my 18+ year-long battle against mental illness. I’d been well for years, and had finally summoned up the courage to come off my antidepressants after being on them for 9 long years. I knew it would be hard, as previous attempts to come off had left me with horrible discontinuation symptoms. But both my doctor and I felt confident that this time I could pull it off. Over the last 9 years, I’d made huge changes in my life. I’d retrained for a career I’d always wanted, landed my dream job, and gained a PhD. Never in my wildest dreams, not since I was a kid, had I ever dreamed that I would succeed in this way. The last few years, I felt happy. Looking back on my journals, there are years and years of blood, sweat and tears, feelings of low self-esteem, darkness, despair, sickness, uncertainty, endless and driving negativity. Then, it petered out. For a long time the entries became sporadic, and then disappeared altogether. I didn’t write in my journal because I didn’t have anymore of that old pain, the one that I needed to vent on paper. That was because I was content. I’d ‘arrived’ in my life, in myself.

That all started to unravel earlier this year. At work we are having a huge restructure, and as I was coming off the antidepressants, and going through some withdrawal symptoms that included a marked rise in anxiety, I found out my job was going to be cut, after having been led to believe it would be secure. I was devastated. This was my dream job, and had played a huge part in the healing I’d laboured so hard to win. Suddenly it was being ripped out from under me in the cruellest way (I won’t even begin to explain the disgusting way in which my coworkers and I have been treated, it’s too depressing and would take far too much time). Suddenly, and for the first time in a decade, I was completely lost at sea. The anxiety I’d been feeling as part of my discontinuation symptoms suddenly started to spiral slowly out of control. Soon it wasn’t just on waking up; it was all morning. Then it was all afternoon. Then all evening. Then the entire day.

The frustrating thing is that, if I’d been still on the antidepressants for just that little bit longer, I think I would’ve been able to cope with this okay. And if all this stuff at work hadn’t happened, I would’ve pulled through the discontinuation symptoms, and would be that simple thing that has eluded me for so much of my life - ‘well’.

I feel robbed, cheated. I managed to get a job in the new structure, but have been manipulated and used by the new boss, and once again I feel helpless to shape my own destiny. Feelings of uncertainty and low self-worth have brought me right back to where I was 10 long years ago. All the ground I covered to heal and truly reach my potential has been stripped away from me and left me naked. It’s hard not to believe now that this is how I will always be. Never able to heal, never able to rise above the depression, the negativity, never fully able to pull back the mask from my face and say, with pride, ‘this is me’. Instead, all I have is this constant white noise of anxiety. It robs me of sleep, strength, joy. My days have become a haze. I can’t write, I can’t draw. I can’t take pleasure in anything. I worry about my future, about the endless tunnel of uncertainty I see laid before me. It seems so dark. It feels like there’s no light at the end of it. I’ve been trapped in a situation that leaves me powerless, without agency. And somewhere along the line, over these last few horrible months, my ability to cope, to get through the worst, has completely failed me.

I’ve been seeing a counsellor for CBT, and yesterday I took the awful decision to go back on medication. This was disappointing for me because of the long, dire battle I fought over the years to regain my sanity and independence from drugs. My only wish was to be dependency-free and generally content with my life. Going back on the meds is like a betrayal of the battle I thought I’d won at the start of this year. But I’m not well, and I haven’t been for a few months now. I need to accept that, pick myself up, and start pulling that load again. I can’t let it beat me. Even if it takes me till my dying day.

So here I am, again. Covering old ground. A battleground I know all too well. Wondering whether I’m just wired to be this way. Sad and anxious, powerless and downtrodden. I have to learn to forgive my anxiety, for it’s a part of me. It’s a mama bear, trying to protect me from what’s been done to me. A mama bear who’s crushing me, smothering me, in her rage. It’s the only way she knows to keep me safe. My anxiety isn’t the enemy. It’s the people, the system, the circumstances, that did this to me. It was never my fault. I don’t know how right now, but I have to bear it as best I can.

[thewnchstrs]

The Cure: Part Two

Pairing: Winchester!sister

Disclaimers: needles

Word Count: 1.4K

Part One

M A S T E R L I S T

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

I was banned from going anywhere near the dungeon after what’d happened.

Not that I was complaining.

The bruises Dean left were darker than ever, the ones on my eyes and around my temples were harsh, but the handprint over my throat was the worst of it. 

I examined my face in the bathroom mirror, my fingertips lightly grazing the bruised skin. Even the slightest touch made me flinch away in pain. No amount of makeup would be able to cover any of this up.

“You okay?” A sudden voice from the bathroom doorway asked. Sam’s eyes raked over my face.

I cleared my throat, nodding as I attempted to give him the best smile I could, “Fine.”

Sam nodded once. I knew he wasn’t going to buy it, “Listen, Y/N...Dean, he’s getting better. Cas and I both think he could be back to himself in a matter of days-”

“That’s great,” I smiled. Of course I wanted Dean back. There was nothing in this world I wanted more. However, I knew that with him coming back, I’d have to get used to seeing him without being reminded of what’d happened when he wasn’t himself. Something I wasn’t sure how long it would take for me to be able to do. “We need to get him better. That’s all that matters.”

Sam nodded, “All that matters.” 

He lingered in the doorway. I knew he wanted me to open up about what’d happened. However, I didn’t want to just yet. Making sure Dean was cured is the top priority, this could wait.

I watched his reflection in the mirror as I turned back to it. Sam sighed, shooting a glance up to me before turning around back toward the hallway. 

“Sam?” I called after him, making him turn on his heels, “I want to be there. When Dean is cured.”

“Y/N, I don’t think-”

“I have to be there,” I said, “If you and Cas are there when he comes back and I’m not...I don’t know if I could forgive myself.”

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

Just the thought of going back into the dungeon was enough to make my skin crawl. But now, I didn’t have a choice. Sam and Cas thought this could be it, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t there to bring Dean back.

Sam pushed the dungeon door open with his shoulder as he shot a look back to me, “It’ll be alright. We’re not going to leave you with him.”

“I know.” I nodded, subconsciously running my fingers over the bruises as I followed him inside. Dean sat upright in his chair. He looked exhausted, his skin pale, dark rings under his eyes.

At the sight of me, he smirked, “Come back for more?” 

Cas, who stood next to the metal cart of yet another gallon of blood filled a syringe, sticking it deep into the inside of Dean’s arm making Dean writhe in pain, “Shut up.”

Dean let out a guttural scream, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair. His chest heaved, his breaths coming out short ragged.

“How much more do you think it’ll take?” I asked, watching Cas fill another syringe with blood.

“This should be the last of it,” Cas said as he held the needle up. Walking toward Dean, he lifted the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a series of puncture wounds.

“Cas, wait.” I said, stopping him. Him and Sam watched as I stepped closer to Dean, squatting down to his level. Dean looked me deep into my eyes as if he could see my soul, “What did you mean?” I whispered to him, not wanting Sam or Cas to hear, “What did you mean when you said you had to...to cut this- this thing out of me? What’s in me?”

A foreign smile played on Dean’s lips, one of amusement. His eyes flicked to black as he came closer, “You’re powerful, Y/N. There’s something special in you.” He let his words linger, his voice chilling me to the bone. “And if you’re not careful, you’re going to be the one to end this world.”

I pulled away from him slowly, confusion contorting my face as his smirk grew more sinister.

I stood to my full height, turning back to Sam before quickly whipping around, my fist flying through the air before it connected with the right side of his face. A satisfying sound emitting from my fist as I pulled back.

I let out a breath of air, nodding, “That felt good.”

Sam pulled me back to stand next to him as he gestured to Cas, “Lets get it over with.”

I could feel Sam’s eyes on me, burning a hole through my skull. He no doubt wanted in on what Dean and I were talking about. In time, I’d tell him. For now, I needed to find out what it meant, first.

Cas shoved the last needle into Dean’s arm where, again, Dean writhed in his seat, screaming as the blood coursed through him. The thought that Dean- the real Dean- was right at the cusp coming back, sent my heart soaring. Whatever was going to happen, whatever all this meant, it didn’t matter. Dean was almost cured.

Dean’s thrashing didn’t last as long this time. Instead, he threw his head forward, his movements stopping.

“Dean?” Sam called to him.

Slowly, Dean picked his head up. My heart sank at the sight of his still-black eyes when suddenly, the darkness shattered away, his green eyes coming through.

He blinked twice, his eyes bouncing to the three of us, “You three look worried.”

Sam quickly uncapped the bottle of holy water, splashing it onto his face, eliciting an annoyed look from him.

I smiled, “Welcome back, Dean.”

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

That night, I packed up the metal cart in the dungeon. I knew I had to retrain myself to know that the dungeon wasn’t a place for me to fear any longer. I hummed to myself as wrapped each individual syringe before throwing it away, all while wondering how we were supposed to get rid of nearly half a gallon of blood.

I was halfway through wiping the car down when the dungeon door was pulled open, a flood of light pouring into the room. I could tell who it was by the sound of his boots over the hard floor. Dean was never a quiet walker, it’s amazing that he’d survived so many hunts.

“You got the short end, didn’t you?” He said as he stood in the doorway. He looked much better after having had a shower and a decent meal.

I looked down at the cart, shrugging, “Anyway I can help.”

Dean watched as I worked, but kept his distance. It was all the reassurance I needed for me to know that he remembers what happened.

Dean shifted onto his other foot, “Y/N, I-”

“Don’t,” I said, cutting him off. I shook my head as I looked up at him for the first time, the sight of my bruised skin making him flinch slightly, “you don’t have to apologize to me, Dean.”

“But what I did-”

“Wasn’t your fault.”

Dean opened and closed his mouth, battling with what he wanted to say before he whispered something so quietly I had to strain to hear him, “I almost...I almost killed you, Y/N.”

“It was not you, Dean. And never, not in a million years, will you be able to convince me that it was, or that you could’ve stopped it.” I shook my head, walking closer to him, letting him know that I wasn’t afraid of him. His eyes scanned my face, travelling down to my neck where I could tell he fought to keep his composure.

Dean’s shoulders went slack, his tired eyes looking at me sadly, “I felt everything. I felt the air, leave your body-” Dean stopped himself, his eyes brimming with tears, “I...I thought you were gone.”

"I’m here,” I said, pulling him in for a hug. He gripped the back of my shirt, his tears dampening my shoulder, “I’m not going anywhere.”

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

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[willofhounds]

Broken souls ch6 full chapter this time sorry

Newt's POV

He stood in the large atrium where he recieved his missions. All of the elders were on the screens. Their cold eyes watching him anger clear in them. Behind him Seraphina stood waiting and watching everything.

One of the elder inquired, "Number XIII, you do understand the reasons for this do you not?"

Newt replied flippantly, "Not really."

There was a twitch in the other's face. It seemed he had angered the elder. Good.

A younger voice said, "Number XIII I hope the gravity of your situation is not lost on you. We made an except to the rules when we brought you into the Numbers. We allowed you knowledge for our reasons of doing so."

The first said on the same tangent having regained his composure, "The skills you posses are in line with that of a number. You are once more to seek out and eliminate the bioweapon."

Newt replied calmly, "The only thing I will do is act freely upon my own will. I will do what I think is right."

Another one of the elders snapped, "Do you truly believe you have free will? There is no freedom for a number. As your name says you're a black cat and we own you. You do as you are told just like any stray we pick up off the streets."

Newt replied still holding that Cheshire grin, "Have you ever known a cat to do as you tell it? I can tell you that they just do as they want."

Newt glared as he refused, "No. I refuse to bow any longer. I will protect those by my strength and will alone."

Breaths were sucked in. One growled, "Number XIII, do you understand the ramifications for what you just said? There are grave consequences. We will give you this one chance to recant your insolent outburst."

"I refuse," he calmly stated, "I will do only what I believe is right."

With that he spun on his heel and left. He knew what was to come next. The elders would issue orders for his death.

Unsurprisingly Jenos stood just outside the door. His dark eyes watching Newt, his right hand flexing.

Would his friend start something here? If he did then Newt would give everything he had to survive.

Newt walked past him not hesitating even for a second. He was half way across the room when Jenos growled, "If you walk out those doors then you will be an enemy. Do you really want to throw everything away so easily?"

Newt sighed deeply. He knew where his friend was coming from. Chronos has given them a place and a purpose. If it wasn't for Graves he would still be killing. Slowly destroying his soul until there was nothing left.

Newt said calmly not meeting Jenos's eyes, "I can't do it anymore Jenos. It is killing me. I'm leaving now. Don't try to stop me."

He didn't want to fight. Though he would if it meant escaping. There wasn't a chance in hell he would give them the chance to put him in retraining.

Once he left the building he started moving towards where his apartment was. There were a few things that he would take with him. The main thing was he didn't want Graves hanging around there any longer. Chronos would not hesitate to kill him to get to Newt.

The almost full moon above him was an ominous red. Some said that a red moon meant blood would be split that night. Given how well his night had gone so far he was inclined to believe it.

His senses heightened as he got the feeling that he was being followed. The footsteps behind him were heavy. Too much so to be Sephiria. Too heavy and easily picked up to be with Chronos.

He drew Hades and spun around on his heel. Standing there with a gentle look in his bright blue eyes was the second man he was supposed to kill. His wand wasn't out nor did he appear threatening. Newt knew from experience however appearances could be deceiving.

The man turned his head to the side as he said, "I was waiting for you to come out of that place. The wards and protections on that building are extensive. Only those chosen are allowed to enter. Even I couldn't get through them."

Newt questioned his eyes narrowing dangerously, "What do you want? Why are you following me?"

The man gave him a gentle look that set his nerves on fire. He replied calmly, "Tonight you were sent to kill Theseus Scammander and myself. Yet instead of killing us you chose to save us. Not even your friend in MACUSA could explain why."

Newt asked his eyes wide with surprise, "His name was Theseus? What was his last name?"

The man replied almost in question himself, "Scammander. His name is Theseus Scammander. I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts."

His brother was alive. His mentor always said that he would find a way to kill the last Scammander. To finish his job. It seemed though that it never happened.

"He recognized you immediately you know," Dumbledore said startling him, "Theseus knew exactly who you were when he turned around. We all thought you were going to shoot him."

Newt almost had shot him too. If it wasn't for Percival he would have. The older man had shown him a new path. One not frought with killing. In a way he had become the older brother that Theseus tried to be. Only their time was cut short when their parents were killed.

Newt inquired concerned for his only friend left, "Graves isn't going to get in trouble for knowing me is he? He didn't know what I did for a living. Just that I carried a gun."

Dumbledore was going to reply when a familiar cackle was heard. Newt swung Hades in the direction. There leaning against a wall was Creed Diskenth.

Creed was one of the elite members of the Erasers. While not a Number he was still considered one of the best killers in Chronos. The only thing keeping him from being a Number was his sadistic tendencies. He would not hesitate to kill civilians as well as his target.

Newt growled, "Creed. Here to take me back to Chronos?"

The other held out his hands in a sign of surrender. Though he knew he could draw Kotetsu just as fast as Newt could draw Hades. They were killers trained to be the best.

Creed said watching as Newt put himself in between the Eraser and Dumbledore, "I'm supposed to be talking you out of leaving Chronos. Instead I want to offer you a place amongst the betters. Those that will rid the world of Chronos."

Newt barely withheld a roll of his eyes. Creed was always one for the dramatics. He didn't leave Chronos only to kill for someone else.

"So that's your plan Creed," came familiar tones of Sephiria. It seemed he had hung around here for too long.

Newt pushed the too curious Dumbledore farther behind him. There was still an open mission out on this man. He was a free kill to whoever wanted it.

The auburn haired man asked, "Who are they?"

"Chronos," he snapped.

Creed it seemed wanted to create his own group. One that would surpass the Numbers. For whatever reason he wanted Newt.

Newt growled, "Run, Dumbledore."

A hand grabbed him as the other replied, "I think not."

Then it felt like he was being sucked through a tube the whole world turned black for a minute. Then they appeared with a sharp crack. They were on the rooftop of his apartment. The very one he met Graves on. How?

"I told him," came a familiar voice.

Newt turned to find Graves standing behind them by the stairs. His worried grey eyes softened with relief.

Newt rumbled slightly, "Graves. Why did you have Dumbledore come after me? I can handle myself."

Instead of answering Graves shot a question of his own, "She's your boss, isn't she?"

Newt smiled as he replied shaking his head, "Ex boss actually. I left Chronos tonight."

Graves relaxed his stance slightly. Newt hadn't noticed before but the other had been tense. Almost as if he expected Newt to kill again.

Graves asked curious now, "Why?"

Newt didn't answer at first. Both men were watching him with curious expressions.

Graves who had known him for longer sighed. Obviously thinking that their conversation was over.

Newt whispered so quiet that it was almost unheard by both men, "You," Percival froze his face showing his incomprehension, "Your words stopped me from killing again."

Dumbledore began to fade into the shadows. Whatever he was there for it was over. He would leave the two men alone for now.

Graves said quietly, "After everything tonight you really shouldn't stay here."

Newt sighed, "I wasn't planning on it. Just needed to get a few things."

"I'll go with you. Just in case those people show up again."

Newt had a feeling that Chronos wouldn't appear again. At least not tonight. They were most likely to busy dealing with Creed.

[endless-vall]

I think I always knew - Zekei x MC fanfic

Summary: Having to make a decision regarding the Vanguard spy overboard, Athena finds a deserted part of the ship to seek peace and quiet, to make up her mind. But, as it seems, other things are bothering her, making the process of decision making almost dreadful to her. Luckily, there’s a person who had always had her back, and today was no different.

Author’s note: My first ATV fanfic! Hope you’ll like it.

I loved Zekei from the first chapter and I’m so upset we didn’t have a chance to get any more points/romantic scenes with him (with the MC, not Eos). Hopefully we’ll get some soon.

In the meantime... I thought I’d write a missing scene from the latest chapter. Enjoy! 😄

Athena was sitting in an empty, secluded part of the ship. Only carriers and butlers arrived in that part of the ship and she was ought to have some peace of mind there.

Argo had passed by her an hour ago or so, but she faked a smile and asked him not to tell anyone about her whereabouts.

She'd have to make a decision before morning came, she knew that. But until then, she needed some peace and quiet.

That is, until she hears footsteps behind her.

At first, she prays in her heart it is merely another worker passing by, but then the footsteps become more audible and it is obvious they're directed at her direction.

They come to a stop and Athena senses a presence beside her, but the figure remains silence until Athena frowns and turns around annoyed.

"Argo, I told you - I wanna be left alone--" Her voice is cut short when her eyes meets the person who decided to burst into her little bubble of comfort and procrastination.

"Zekei." His name left her lips in the most delicate way possible.

She was struck, in awe, and despite her helplessness she smiled at him.

Zekei's lips were pressed into a thin, unreadable line until she smiled at him, then they curled upward into a charming smile.

"Mind if I join you?" He asked.

"Do you even need to ask?" Athena might've wanted to be left alone, but she would never decline Zekei's company.

He always grounded her, reminded her of her path, he was her anchor, and she was his.

Well, it had always been a platonic connection, although there was something beneath the surface the both of them were too wary to wake up, too afraid to ruin the special thing they had until now.

Zekei settles down beside her, leaving little space between them.

He follows her gaze, over to the enormous glass window in front of them.

It featured the open space in front of the ship, beautiful colors spiralling through the dark void and taking their breath away.

Out in space, it was so easy to remember how small you were, it was so hard to distinguish from night and day, and it was so easy to lose yourself.

But most of all, it gave them both a sense of hope. This was what they were working so hard for the last couple of years. This was their dream.

And somehow, by the hand of faith (And Eos's meddling), they were here together.

A comfortable silence fell between them, until Athena felt someone's gaze over her from the corner of her eye.

"If you stare at that glass for another minute or so I'm sure it'll crack under your intensity." He jokes, and Athena can't help the smile that reaches her lips.

She shifts her gaze to Zekei, and hums in agreement. "Could be." She shrugs, chuckling.

She already feels more at ease, but the decision is still weighting on her.

She's about to speak up again, confide in Zekei, when he beats her to it and breaks the silence again.

"Turn around," He motions for her.

"Huh?" Athena doesn't understand, furrowing her eyebrows at him.

"Just trust me." He chuckles in a low voice, having somewhat alluring undertone.

Athena nods, feeling the slightest peek of heat reaching her cheeks. She'd trust Zekei with her life, closed eyes and all.

She circles and shifts so Zekei is facing her back, and the nervousness and curiosity lift off immediately the moment his firm hands meet her back.

Despite his obvious strength and rough patches, his touch is miraculously soft. His caress is tender and relaxing, as he presses soothing circles into the muscles of her back.

Athena feels the pressure being left off her back, as if she's coming up for air and is finally able to breathe again, after not knowing she was drowning for so long.

It was amazing, how he knew exactly what she needed, when she didn't know it herself.

"Mmhm..." She let out a pleasurable sound, not even minding herself.

Usually, it didn't bother neither of them. They knew each other so well and allowed themselves to be completely carefree and open.

Yet somehow this time she sensed something was different.

After she let out the whimper of satisfaction, Zekei freezed. Ever so slightly, continuing merely a few seconds later, but noticable for the both of them.

Athena wondered in her mind, if any of them was going to comment on that. Zekei went on with massaging her throughly, pressing pressure just in the right spots.

This time, Athena bit the inside of her mouth to retrain from making any further sounds.

When Zekei felt she was more relaxed, he allowed himself to engage in conversation.

"You know, Nana, you can always talk to me if something's bothering you. That is... If you want." She heard a note of nervousness in his voice, but his grip remained decisive over her.

"Nana? You haven't called me like that since we were kids!" She didn't mean to change the subject, but was truly struck by amusement and nostalgia.

She even shot him a look behind her shoulder, meeting his eyes.

They glistened with something unfamiliar, something wistful.

The smile on his lips wasn't enough to distract her, and Athena wondered if the strange yet excited feeling swirling in her stomach was shared by her best friend that was sitting next to her.

Their eye contact remained intensely on each other until Zekei tore it off, looking anywhere but her. He chuckled, a tense laugh before replying.

"Well, yeah. I guess I didn't really notice. Sorry about that. " He nodded.

Athena shook her head, smiling confidently at him. "Don't worry. I liked that." She assured him.

"I..." Hesitantly, she shot him another look, trying to meet his eyes. "I wouldn't mind if you started using it again." She confessed, remembering how it felt back when they were kids.

Athena loved Zekei from ever since she could remember herself. Only it was a different kind of love. An innocent, platonic one.

They often joked back then that they were soulmates, since they worked so well together. Completing each other.

A soulmate isn't necessarily a romantic partner.

Only that recently, her feelings were a lot harder to contain, to hide deep within.

After almost being truly separated for their first time in their life, getting stationed together felt like a second chance.

As if the universe was telling them to use it wisely.

"I-- you'd... Really want that?" Zekei's eyes widened.

"Definitely." She nodded, once. "Just... Maybe not in front of the crew in official meetings." She noted, remembering why she was upset and came to hide here in the first place.

Zekei agreed, a huge grin spreading over his face. His hands stopped drawing soothing circles into her back and rose upwards to rest on top of her shoulder.

"As you wish, captain." He winked at her, and Athena turned around to face him.

His hands still rested over her shoulders, providing some very much needed support and comfort.

She hanged her eyes at him, wondering what to say next.

As much as the silence between them didn't become a bother, she didn't want to sink back into it just yet.

"So... do you wanna talk about it?" He asked, only the right corner of his lips rising into a half smile.

She feels relieved he brings that up again, and nods slowly at him.

"Well, you got a point there." She starts, swallowing.

"What do you mean?"

"I am the captain of this ship, yet it doesn't feel that way. I know it's not a dictatorship and I don't intend it to be, but my crew seems to be constantly telling me what to do instead of the opposite. I'm supposed to call the big shots, but how can I trust myself to know that I'm choosing the right ones when they won't even let me determine the smaller ones?" Athena never felt like that in her life. She was always positive whatever choice she made was the right one. Even if things didn't go according to plan, it just meant her path was supposed to take that turn of events, and eventually bring her to the right place.

But this time, she needed to decide the fate of a soldier. It's a life or death sentence, surely. And Sol, Kepler, her brother and sister - seemed to do as they pleased, no matter what Athena's opinion of it was.

She was a nice person, and had a high level of patience. She trusted that they knew what they did, but she needed them to trust her too.

Zekei slid his hands from Athena's shoulders down her arms, until he intertwined their fingers together.

Athena's heart fluttered in her chest, although she tried not to think of it that way.

If she could only knew if Zekei was feeling the same, maybe her life would be easier.

He gave her hands a reassuring squeeze before speaking up.

"Have you tried talking to them about this?" He asked, seriously concerned with her complaint.

"I did. Kind of, anyway..." She sighed. "Every time I try, something comes up that needs my immediate attention." Her shoulders slump, and she sends Zekei a pout.

He laughs at her face, before shaking his head.

"What if you confront them? Insist that this is a serious matter that needs their immediate attention. Snatch them away from their responsibilities and make an important meeting out of it. They'll be bound to come." Zekei suggests, and Athena's eyes lights up at him.

"You know what...? It might be the solution I was searching for all along." She smiles at him, completely and genuinely.

Zekei smiles back, just as eagerly. "Goad to be of service." He tells her.

Athena's glad that is over, behind them. Obviously she'll have to put it into motion but that felt like the easy part.

She looks back into the glass window and leans in, resting her head over Zekei's shoulder.

He lets go of one of her hands, to make that sitting position more comfortable for them. Only then Athena realizes they are still holding hands.

She does the mistake of looking down at their intertwined hands and blushes.

She feels Zekei's intense gaze over her, as she feels him stiffen against her as if he's holding his breath.

"I-" She finally glances up at him, unsure what to say.

"We really haven't hung out in a while." He saves the day, interrupting her.

She breathes in relief and smiles in gratitude. "Yes." She nods.

"Ever since we finished our boarding exams and started to work on The Atlas." She notes.

They were stationed together but haven't had any time to actually hang out together ever since.

"I'm glad you came here today though. Even if Argo broke his promise to me by telling you." She added, a sheepish smile crept to her face.

Zekei laughed at that, his smile warm and content.

"Don't get too upset with him. I practically made him tell me. He insisted to anyone who wondered where you are that you're working on important stuff concerning The Atlas. But I know you too well by now." He explains.

"Oh, is that so?" She finally sits back, not leaning against him. She immediately misses the feeling of him against her skin but she hold tighter into his hand to make up for it.

She raises one eyebrow, almost playfully at him, while asking him that in her most teasing tone.

After she hears him suck in a breath, he regains his cool and leans in. "Oh, definitely." He teases her back, voice low and daring.

"Remember the time we got out of a simulation, and you ran off to some rooftop to bawl just because you thought you did horribly?" He reminded her, and both burst into laughing simultaneously.

"You found me and comforted me. Telling me that even if I did by some miraculous way fail thay test I would still not be kicked off the program. I don't know why I stressed so much over it in the first place..." She smiles as she re-lives the memory, realizing Zekei has always been there for her, all along.

"And you ended up getting the highest score in our class!" Zekei exclaimed. "You truly worried for nothing." He rolled his eyes, teasing her.

“Well, at least I learned something out of it.” She noted, eyes hinting but not giving away all of it just yet.

“And what’s that?” He questioned curiously.

“That you’ll always have my back.” She pointed at his chest, her hand flexing and resting on top of it afterwards.

Zekei watched her intently. “As if you didn’t know it already.” He said, and while his words tried to sound sure and dramatic, his voice turned out ragged and a little out of breath.

“I think I… always knew that.” Her eyes slowly drifted to Zekei’s face. Her eyes hovering over her lips before finally reaching his own.

“The feeling’s mutual.” He breathe out, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Athena wondered if his words had a deeper meaning.

His gaze was unreadable to her, but intense. It was only when she started leaning in she understood what that gaze meant.

Lust, yearing… warmness. Dare she say… Love?

Zekei leaned in too, all of those emotions swirling in the corners of his eyes until he blinks them close.

Their lips are merely inches apart, exploring new territory.

It’s not that her and Zekei being entangled in an embrace was something new. It wasn’t the first time they sat so close or cuddled. It wasn’t that Athena’s lips never touched Zekei, too. Just never on his lips, though.

She planted kisses over his cheeks, nose and forehead, too. They were already close as it was.

But they were trespassing into a new step and Athena could swear her heart was beating so loudly she could hear it all the way from her chest.

Just a second before their lips touched and tasted each other for the first time ever, Vee beeped into life.

Until now, Vee has been hovering silently, rather in sleeping mode beside Athena.

She tried cheering her up at first, but Athena asked her in the most polite way possible to let her wallow in silence.

Vee was a little upset she couldn’t cheer Athena up, but otherwise understood and set herself to sleeping mode.

“Athena!! I’m so sorry to intrude in such an intimate moment but you have to go, now!” She informed, making the couple jump in their place, flinching away from each other.

“What is it, Vee, what’s wrong?” Athena furrowed her eyebrows in concern.

“The hangar! There’s been some sort of explosion, we have to make an emergency landing, now!!” She swirls and buzzes, and Athena rises to her feet.

Zekei follows suit.

“Zekei, I-” Athena starts apologizing.

“S'okay, Nana, this is more important.” He gives her an understanding nod.

Athena smiles, for a mere moment actually glowing, before giving him a firm nod.

Hey run into the area of the main bridge together, each ready to take their place and live up their duties.

Just before pushing the main doors open, Athena tugs at Zekei’s elbow, pulling him into a stop.

“What is it, Athena?-” Before he can get the full sentence out, though, she presses her lips to his for a blissful, fabulous second.

It’s way too rushed for their liking, but it’s amazing nonetheless.

They feel how their hearts mend, like two pieces of a puzzle finally being lined up together. Like this is where they were always meant to be.

When Athena pulls back, Zekei stares at her in shock.

His cheeks are visibly darkened, and his pupils are darker, his gaze never flutters off her. “Wha…-” He starts mumbling when Athena presses a finger to his lips, winking at him.

“For good luck,” She assures.

Zekei’s surprised expression finally fades off, turning into a warm and wide smile.

“We’ll continue this later?” He asks, voice suddenly mountains more confident.

“Definitely.” She promises, and presses the button for the door to open, both rushing in.

She takes her seat in the center of the room, everyone hanging their eyes at her and await orders.

Athena takes a deep breathe, confident. “Prepare for impact!”

[beatyoutothepunchline]

On Art Museums and Irrational Fears

Needles, public speaking, oblivion, and visual art are my greatest fears. Not one is scarier than the other, on a scale of one to ten they are all a ten. They are rotated through in each moment when my demise seems most imminent. When I visit the doctor’s office and I’m told I’m going to need bloodwork done, needles go to the top of my list. Seconds before I have to give a speech or a presentation, I realize just how important the opinions are of thirty people I barely know. Oblivion is inevitable, in life, in work, in art, and I think nothing is quite as beautiful or significant if we aren’t constantly fearing it. As for visual art, well... as I stood outside the Chicago Art Institute a few weeks back, I debated my fear once again before taking a deep breath and walking in. I feel emotionally impaired when looking at things I can’t comprehend. Especially, when those things don’t abide by the rules of logic and fact. Art, for example-- the really good kind, the kind that makes you go creating answers for unanswerable questions--is downright one of the most terrifying things I know. But it’s also the reason that if I’m given the opportunity to look at something that scares me, I will skip a Field Museum or the Adler Planetarium and go to the place with the thing I fear most. Okay, weird way to start an essay, but since this is a paper on curiosity and I'm curious: Why did you decide to bite the bullet on this one and go look at art if it freaks you out so much? And the answer to that is perspective. One thing more frightening than maybe all my stupid fears is this idea I’m trapped in seeing things one way. There’s a great quote in the film Dead Poets Society where John Keating (Robin Williams) says, “I stand upon my desk to remind myself that we must constantly look at things in a different way.” Because as artists it’s true. It’s far too easy to settle into a style. We find our voice, we write in it, live by it and bleed for it, creating something entirely our own in doing so. But I think the reason lots of art students never become "artists" is that we allow ourselves to put that final nail in our coffin the moment we stop trying to find new ways of seeing the world. Because with finding our voice we also find a formula to a momentary success, which is the worlds cheapest drug and shortest high. If we use it too much, we become dependent on our own opinions, drain ourselves of all our blood and we will start to question the point of what we’re doing. Without ever trying to gain a new perspective of the world around us, we’ve allowed ourselves to be consumed by oblivion. So I force myself to do things like take surrealism classes, continuously watch avant-garde films and occasionally make an ass out of myself by going to an art museum. Not so I can go drink wine when I’m older and act as a museum tour guide for people at parties, telling them everything they couldn’t see by reading the caption on the side of a painting, but to challenge my own perspective by indulging my fear and fascination. After wandering around for a while, I decided to go look at the Impressionists. None of the art in the exhibit seemed so abstract I couldn’t understand what I was looking at it, but it also wasn’t something that I could definitely say, “That’s what that’s supposed to mean.” Impressionism is perfect because “it’s an artistic style that seeks to capture a feeling or experience through the shifting effect of light and color.” It is rough and personal. Good Will Hunting, another fantastic Robin Williams movie, shows this idea in a scene where Sean (Williams) and Will (Matt Damon) are sitting on a park bench talking after Will told Sean that his wife’s painting is “shit.” Understandably Sean isn’t happy by the remark but it leads to a discussion between the two bringing them together, “If I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling.”Stephen Asma does a great job of defining this in his piece, 'Monsters on the Brain: An Evolutionary Epistemology of Horror.' “Why does art communicate, explore, and even reprogram values better than science? Because art is a secret language that speaks directly to the limbic system. Art doesn’t just tell us about emotional conflicts or clashes of values, it actually speaks directly to our effective system—bypassing the discursive rationality. Art triggers the emotions in us directly, it doesn’t represent them to us. The story of a novel or a film may be a representation of another place and time, but the emotional content is a direct infection in Tolstoy’s sense ‘powerful art should “infect” the audience with specific emotional content’ it is not a representation of a feeling,” but cognition of that feeling. Jean Claude Monet and Vincent van Gogh were the two artists in the exhibit that stuck out to me the most. In a number of paintings featured (‘Waterloo Bridge’ and ‘Sunlight Effect’), the context of the painting was fairly evident upon looking at it. Meaning and emotion are not in the formal analysis, but the contextual. Who was the person who made it and why? In a Writing and Rhetoric class a few weeks back we discussed how words and images tell a story and how often the two are unbalanced. We were asked to analyze two pieces of work. It wasn’t anything big, the first thing we looked at was Kevin Carter's Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph from Sudan, showing a small child huddled on the ground in the sun, with a vulture looming over her. At first glance, our class described everything we saw at the moment which the photos was taken, slowly working our way out to the unseen questions like, Who is taking the photo? Was this staged? Where are this child’s parents? The further we asked, the more our perspective shifted. We went from artists to concerned observers, to critics of ethics and humanity, people who were sickened by the idea that no one ever found out what happened to that kid. The photographer, Kevin Carter, ended up killing himself from guilt and the overall and underlying lesson of the day was that we no longer knew what to think. The second piece that we looked at was, oddly enough, Vincent Van Gogh's ‘Wheatfield with Crows’ finished in July 1890. Van Gogh had become obsessed with "the immense plain against the hills, boundless as the sea, delicate yellow.” Captivated by the fields in May when the wheat was young and green. The weather worsened in July, and he wrote to a friend that the "vast fields of wheat under troubled skies," adding that he did not "need to go out on (his) way to try and express sadness and extreme loneliness.” This not only plagued the paintings dark and dreary sky but also Van Gough's mind. It was the last painting he did before killing himself. Okay less about fear and more so about perspective, but why? Fear seems like the easiest thing to draw curiosity from, so why does it change our perception and our constantly changing perspective through impressionism and other forms of art?” I think about how I often have no idea what I’ve written until after I’ve written it. I go into writing with an idea before a theme of it all will kind of come together in the end. I guess that's what I'm curious about. How do we go into writing papers or walking around museums with this idea we know what we're talking about only to end up walking out of these places more uncertain than before? Stephen Asma’s article, 'Monsters on the Brain' gives reasoning behind this. “The point is that these emotional responses are not instincts in the sense of pre-wired or genetically engraved responses. The effective systems are ancient in the sense that they have many homologies with nonhuman animals, but in our individual lives they are idiosyncratically assigned and have significant plasticity. Emotional tendencies and values can help us make fast appropriate responses to environmental challenges, but they can also be retrained or re-educated.” How perspective is developed through our impressions coming into something, gaining information, and our immediate reaction through our emotions is something I never considered as a type of curiosity. Walking out of the Art Institute, I realized I still didn’t fully grasp this idea that our lens is not only used in a form of art but as something that can be manipulated through constant change of what we’re told. Learning. And in that aspect, it is a reassuring sign that my fears, however much I don’t like them, are trivial. Because from a different perspective a needle is something you fix things with, in a crowd of people who are too concerned with their own opinions the person grading you is probably the only one listening, art is a delicate balance of pictures and their context, and oblivion is only inevitable so long as you chose not to see it.

[solastia]

Kitten Addition  | 2

Read This Part First: My Puppy [1] [2] [3]

Kitten Addition: [1]

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader, Jimin x Reader, Taehyung x Jimin

Word Count: 3,571

Genre & Warnings: Mentions of cancer, referenced smut. 

Notes: Ok, so this chapter is mostly plot building, so there’s no dirty smut. There is a scene I was thinking about going back and adding some time, so you may have an excuse to reread eventually. I’ll let you guys know when I get around to doing that. There are bits of teasing and hints of smuttish activity, but yeah, this is Y/N going through some shit. Also, it turned out more Jungkook centric than planned, but it’s still good. I just know how much you guys have been wanting to read this so after rewriting it like five times, I’m rushing it out. Don’t worry. The next chapter is all about Jimin and his peach ;)

“Rise and shine, Y/N!”

A deep and overly excited voice rumbled in my ear before I felt him move down to bury his nose in my neck. He places sweet little kisses there, making all thoughts of beating him with a pillow flee my mind. With a groan I manage to crack my eyes open, sunlight from the opened window practically blinding me. The offensive light is thankfully blocked when Taehyung’s shaggy head moves into my view, his boxy smile wide and happy. 

“Fine, I’m rising. I refuse to shine until I’ve had my coffee though.” I manage to croak out, voice still thick from sleep. 

“I bet if I rise I can make you shine,” Taehyung smirked, leaning down to peck me on the lips. 

“Ugh, it’s too early to be a greaseball. Now I need incentive to get up because you may have just ruined my morning entirely.” I tease as I wrap my legs around his waist and suck on the already fading bruise I’d put on his jaw the night before. 

“You make me so happy,” I whisper, nosing his face playfully. 

Taehyung lets out a low growl and nips at my neck, moving down slowly. Both of us freeze in shock as we are disrupted by the doorbell. 

“Who the hell would disturb us at eight in the morning?” I whine, getting off the bed reluctantly to put on my robe. Taehyung rushes to answer the door with me behind him mumbling under my breath. 

“I didn’t think he’d be here until later since he knows our schedules, but it’s Jimin’s move-in day, remember?!” Taehyung reminds me as we travel to the front door. 

“Why is everyone always moving in here? Why don’t you guys buy me a mansion and move me in there for once? And didn’t I give Jimin a key already?” I mutter and Taehyung laughs. 

“Do you want a mansion, my grumpy Princess? We’ll set you up good.”

“No, I don’t actually want a mansion. All of our staff would quit within a week after seeing us naked 90% of the time, and then I would be the one stuck cleaning the place.” 

Taehyung waggles his eyebrows then looks at the camera. He turns to me with confusion in his eyes. 

“It’s a lady.”

“A lady? Like, someone selling something? Let me see.” I peer at the door camera.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Shit.” What the hell is she doing here?

I take a deep breath, double check that Taehyung is wearing pants, then fling the door open violently. 

“What do you want?” I ask coldly, eyeing the elegantly dressed woman before me as she scrutinizes my pajamas with her judgemental gaze. 

“Can’t a Mother visit her daughter without wanting something?” 

I hear the quiet gasp on the side of me as Taehyung learns the mystery woman’s identity. There’s a reason I don’t ever talk about her, even to Taehyung. 

I observe the painted and botoxed woman in disdain. 

“I hear that’s the done thing with normal family members, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t describe you. I repeat, what do you want, Clara?”

“First names, darling? I didn’t realize we were so progressive. If you’ll step aside and let me in, I’m happy to discuss everything. I’d rather not wage war in the hallway, it’s rather tacky.” She pushed past me and stopped in the entryway, observing her surroundings. When her eyes found Taehyung smiling sheepishly to the side of me, her eyebrow cocked as she looked him over. 

“You have a plaything? You picked a handsome one. Hello there, Sweetheart.”  The flirty grin that she no doubt thought was irresistible filled you with disgust. 

“Fine. Mother dear, whatever are you doing here? Did you get dumped again by chance? Need money? Had some sixth sense that I was feeling Happy and decided to come fix that?” I sarcastically drawl, crossing my arms in front of my chest and stepping in front of Taehyung to block him from her view. 

My mother released a loud, exaggerated sigh, flapping her hand in the air. “Yes, Charles and I are getting a divorce. He knocked up his little mistress and decided to marry her. I’m going to stay with you until the house I made him give me is renovated. I always hated all the animal trophies everywhere.” She declares, setting her purse on the counter and setting up on a bar stool like she owned the place. 

“Mother, I really don’t think...” I began, only to be interrupted by the doorbell again. I watch in horror as Taehyung opens the door, as I already know it could just be one other person. 

“Good morning, my Goddess. Morning, Tae! I have some bags here if you wanted to help me with them. Just essential stuff, but the rest of my boxes will be delivered by the movers...oh, hello.” Jimin stops midway through his spiel when he finally set down the bags he was carrying and noticed my Mother. 

Her eagle eyes scoured him from head to toe and back before flicking my way, an almost evil grin appearing on her face. 

“My Goddess? Either you’re very close to your friends, or you have two playthings at once, my darling. I’m impressed.” 

“What I do or don’t do is none of your business. Please leave.” I manage to say as politely as possible, hoping that she would leave before she started a real fight or said something to the boys. 

“Fine, I just think it’s funny that all those years of you treating me like I was trash because I liked playing around, and now here you are with two at once. Hypocrite much, sweetheart?” 

“Get the fuck out of my house.” I grind out, retraining myself from physically throwing her out. 

“I’m going, there’s no need to be a bitch, darling. I can see you have a full house already. I’ll just put myself up in a nice hotel. Just don’t expect any money from what I get from Charles.” She spat as she grabbed her bag and made her way to the front door. 

“I never expect any money. I put myself through college. I paid for my own apartment, car, everything else in my life. I need nothing from you. Quit bothering me every time you get a divorce. Stay out of my life for the last fucking time.” I yelled as I slammed the door behind her. 

I lean my head against the door and listen to the sound of her heels stomping down the hallway and wait until I hear the elevator door open and close before I release my breath. 

A hand starts stroking my back, and I’m suddenly enveloped in Taehyung’s comforting presence as he back hugs me and props his chin on my shoulder. 

“So...that was your Mother.” He says, humor tinting his voice. 

Releasing a bitter laugh, I turn and bury my face in his chest. “Yup. That was Mother.” 

“Lovely woman.” Jimin snorts as he strolls forward and kisses the side of my neck and leans his head on mine. 

“Well, she was about two seconds away from deciding which of you she’d steal from me this time, so if you’re interested, she couldn’t have gotten far,” I mutter as I kiss Jimin and walk towards the kitchen to start my coffee. 

“Wait, this time?” Taehyung asks in disbelief as the boys set up on the counter. 

“Her last ex-husband was my boyfriend, once upon a time. She’d decided to stay with me while her divorce from the other one was getting finalized and managed to seduce him while I was working. I think she liked lording it over me a little too much since she managed to stay married to him for two whole years. A record.” 

“How many times has she been married?” Jimin asks, thanking you when you set some pastries down in front of them. 

“Oh, good question. Let's see, with this last one...six times? I think the only person she’s been with for an extended period of time was Dad. They were married for ten years before he passed away.” 

“How did that happen?” Taehyung asks softly, and I pour all of us coffee in silence for a minute as I reminisce. 

“Cancer. Cliche, right? He was a lawyer too, worked like crazy and still managed to make me feel like a princess, and treated my Mother well. Which is why I still hate her for what she did.” I clear my throat and stir my coffee, ugly memories of screaming matches and tears filling my mind. 

“She was cheating on him the whole time he was in the hospital with one of his firm’s hotshot associates. Worst still, my Father knew because someone else had told him about it. I hated seeing his sad, resigned face whenever she came in to play the loving wife role. I asked him about it once, and he said that while it made him sad, he understood since he wasn’t going to be around anymore. That she was a woman that needs a lot of love. I didn’t care. I thought, and still do, that it was disrespectful and just plain malicious to do that to someone that loved and cared for you for ten years. His last fucking memories on earth are of his wife cheating on him while he was lying there in pain and dying. Fuck her.” I choked back my angry tears, distracting myself with making myself eat. The boys each grabbed a hand and placed a kiss on the backs of them, the pity in their eyes making it hard for me to swallow as I struggled to contain myself. 

“I’m too sober for this,” I mumble, swirling my coffee before I take a sip. 

Jimin wraps himself around me, lips ghosting down my neck as he slides his hands under my shirt. His dick was hard and poking me in the back. Apparently, he thought he’d distract me or cheer me up a certain way, but I felt too guilty to let him touch me right now. 

“Anyway, I think I’m going to head into the office. I need to work on some stuff for next week, and then I’ll be worry free for the rest of the weekend.” I push myself away from the counter and hurry to get ready. I try not to notice the boys watching me flutter around the house with matching worried expressions. I just needed to get my head on straight, that’s all.

I kiss them both on the cheek on my way to the door. “Be sure to call me if you guys need anything. I’ll probably be awhile. Let me know what you guys want for dinner, and I’ll pick something up.” With a wave I shut the door behind me and head out, blocking their confused faces from my memory with the unwelcome thoughts swirling in my head. 

I throw my pen onto my desk and bury my face in my hands, groaning softly. Distracting yourself with work only works when it’s actually distracting. Writing letters and briefs, answering emails, all the dumb busy work that I usually saved until the last minute was not enough to clear my head. 

The same fucking thought kept harassing me ever since Mother left. I was just like her. I was sleeping around with two men at once. The fact that we all had genuine feelings involved felt more like an excuse than validation.

 My thumb caressed the picture the boys had sent me a couple of hours ago. The two of them had taken our dog Winston to the park and posed with him, the sun shining down and making them look like freaking angels with their happy smiles and good looks. They were all so cute and so sweet. What am I doing? She was right. I was a hypocrite. And the boys deserved so much more than the messed up person I am. They deserved the entire fucking world. It would be best for everyone if I let them go. I’m better off alone, really...

“I thought I was depressed, but you are actually in your office during the weekend, crying.” A soft voice interrupts my thoughts, and I look up in surprise to find Jungkook lounging in the chair in front of my desk. 

I reach up and wipe at my cheek, staring at the wet spot on my hand in shock as I see that I was actually crying. I hadn’t even noticed. 

“What’s the matter, Noona?” Jungkook laid his head on his arms, cocking it cutely as he leaned against my desk. The little shit pulled out the Noona card very rarely, usually saving it to get something he wants. He seemed to be using it now to get me to talk to him, which was adorable, I had to admit. 

“I just...” I clear my throat and try to summarize my fears into a tangible sentence, only to blurt out, “Jungkook, am I a whore?”

“What? What the hell would make you say that?” He sits up straight and practically glares at me, his bunny nose wrinkling in a way that usually would have made me laugh.

“What do you think? I’m literally living with two men. I can’t even remember the last time I went even a day without a single sexual act. I feel like I'm selfish and dirty.” I mumble as I push around my pen with a finger. 

“Are you saying I’m a whore then?” Jungkook asked wryly, and he cocked his eyebrow when you glanced up. 

“What? No, of course not.” I exclaimed, not sure why he would ask that. 

“Because you forget I’ve been in an open relationship with Jimin for years. I agreed to it in the first place because Jimin needs lots of love and attention, and frankly, I was exhausted on my own.” Jungkook laughs and ruffles his hair cutely.  

“Jimin, Tae, and I were together quite a lot. Jimin and I even got serious with Min Yoongi a few years back, and all three of us lived together. Yoongi had a girlfriend that would join in on occasion as well. I did the exact same thing as you, and then some. So why are you a whore and not me?” He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms as he waited for me to collect my thoughts. I opened and closed my mouth several times, my mind coming up blank on why it was different. 

“There’s no reason to be ashamed for loving someone, Noona. Instead of focusing on what society thinks, focus on how you feel. I know that sex is only half of the equation, and that you all love each other. You’re all very easy to love.” Jungkooks says with a soft smile, a light blush tinting his cheeks. 

He walks around the desk and crouches down next to my chair, grabbing my hand and rubbing circles into the back of it with his thumb. 

“I was like this at first too, you know. I was already struggling with the taboo of just being with a guy in the first place, then one thing led to another, and Tae started getting added into the mix. I mean, you know how he is. He just kinda...makes everything perfect. Pulls everything together. I started out thinking everything was so wrong, and we were a bunch of perverts, but we all genuinely love each other, so how is that actually wrong? Love is love.” 

“If it was so perfect, why was Tae not officially your partner?” I ask, intrigued to hear things from his point of view. Taehyung talked about their past all of the time, but in his head, everything is common sense, and everyone should know, but I didn’t know specifics. 

“Ah, because there was one thing holding us all back. You. Taehyung has been so hung up on you for years, and he wanted to leave himself an open chance. We’ve suggested hinting things to you over the years since he wasn’t the only one attracted to you, but he didn’t want to scare you off. Now though...” His grip on my hand tightened, and I observed with interest as his eyes fell to my lips. 

He dropped my hand and smiled shyly as he stood back up and leaned his back against the desk. “Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. There’s still this arranged marriage business to take care of. Don’t mind me, I’m just...a little lonely.”

“You could always try to come by. Whoever your father has watching you couldn’t possibly know that Jimin lives with me now.” 

Jungkook shakes his head morosely, his shaggy bangs swaying cutely as he did so. “No. I don’t want to chance it. If we get caught even once, that’s Jimin’s entire future on the line. Besides, that message you sent the other day said you had a plan?” 

“Oh, yes, I do. I won’t go into it too much now but rest assured I will be your Knight in shining skirt suit.” I giggle, glad the mood in the room has lightened a bit. I feel a lot better because Jungkook is right. It’s love, and as long as we’re happy and not hurting anyone, it’s not wrong. 

“Thank you, Noona. Just do me a favor? Next time you feel this way, I want you to try something that helped me. I want you to think about all the things you’d miss if you broke up with them. Like Taehyung’s cuddles or Jimin’s singing in the shower, little things like that.” 

“Or Taehyung making me tea and serving it in a soup bowl.” 

“Yes, or Jimin’s juicy peach ass. God, I miss his ass.” Jungkook groaned dramatically, making me laugh. 

“Fuck, I would too.” I chuckle. I glance at my cell that was suddenly ringing, wiggling my eyebrows at Jungkook when I read the caller ID. Speak of the devil...

I set the phone in the middle of us and press speaker as I grin at Jungkook.

“Jimin honey, what’s up?” I ask, laughing internally as I can practically see him throwing a fit with all the frustrated sighs he’s making. 

“Y/N, when are you coming home? It’s my move-in night; I want to cuddle and watch this anime with you.” He whines, his manipulative little ass using his drunk Diminie aegyo voice. 

“I’m coming home now, baby. What do you want me to pick up for dinner?”

“Tae says junk food, so probably burgers and fries. And a milkshake.” 

“Ok, I’ll pick it up and come right home, alright?”

“Okay! Hurry! I miss you.” He was so fucking cute.

“Jungkook, say hi to Jimin,” I tell him softly, observing him as he clears his throat and nervously leans over the phone. 

“Hi, baby. Noona was sad today, so make sure you guys take good care of her.” 

“...okay, Kookie.” Came the soft reply, and I nodded at Jungkook encouragingly when he quickly looked at me in surprise, obviously not expecting Jimin to still want to use his nickname. I’ve not told Jimin the whole issue yet, but I had told him that Jungkook was trying to protect him from something and not to be sad. 

“I’m going to kiss Noona goodbye, is that alright?” Jungkook asked, smiling at my startled expression. 

“Yeah. She likes more lips than tongue.” He giggles. 

“Alright, love you, I’ll be home soon.” I rush out as I quickly end the call. I stand up and grab my bag and put on my jacket. Jungkook hasn’t moved yet, just watching me with amusement, his stupid bunny smirk wide. 

“Noooonaaa....” He quietly sing songs as he strolls towards me once I’ve reached the door. “This is just to say thank you. Thank you for taking care of Jimin, thank you for helping me. Thank you for being you.” He lays his hand on my shoulder lightly, his fingers stroking like he was trying to comfort me as he leans in. 

His lips softly press against mine, testing my reactions. When I didn’t hit him or freak out, he deepens the kiss, moaning softly into my mouth. When he pulls away, his eyes flutter open, and he smiles down at me. 

“Now go home and take care of our needy kitten.” He mutters as he ushers me out of my own office with a pat on my ass. I glare over my shoulder playfully and send him one last wave before I leave. 

[empounce]

Brock Rumlow x Reader

Chapter 19

Chapter 1 .  Chapter 2 . Chapter 3 . Chapter 4 . Chapter 5 . Chapter 6 . Chapter 7 . Chapter 8 . Chapter 9 .  Chapter 10 .  Chapter 11 . Chapter 12 . Chapter 13 . Chapter 14 . Chapter 15 . Chapter 16 . Chapter 17 . Chapter 18

It has been over a week since your run in with Brock at the gym, and he seemed to be going to great lengths to avoid you. You aren't sure if you did something, or if this is just how he really is now that he's gotten what he wanted from you.

You're stirred from your thoughts as Lauren ushers you to enter Pierce's office. You close the door behind you and take your usual seat in front of his desk, glad it's only the two of you today. Or just glad Brock isn't here...

"I've decided to send you." Pierce speaks, not looking up from his paperwork.

You're slightly bewildered, hoping he doesn't mean what you think he does. "Excuse me, sir?"

"You." He glances up and removes his glasses, folding his hands on the desk patiently. "I'm sending you after Rollins."

You nod slowly, your worries now confirmed. You clear your throat and sit up straight before asking, "When will we be leaving sir?"

The corner of his mouth twitches up slightly as he shakes his head. "I'm afraid you misunderstand Agent, I'm only sending you. You will leave immediately"

You feel your chest tighten nervously, but manage to mutter a 'yes sir' as he returns to his paperwork. You know very well that the meeting is over, and return to your room to prepare.

6 weeks later, Brock POV:

Why isn't she back yet?! Why did Pierce send her? He should have sent me...or even Cap, but not her!

I burst through the door to Pierce's office, ignoring the worried ramblings of Lauren from behind her desk as I shut -and lock- the door behind me.

I turn to face him, seeing only a calm smile on his face as he looks up from his work.

"I wasn't aware we had a meeting, Rumlow." He says, calmly motioning for me to sit.

"Have you heard anything from her?" I ask, the worry in my voice definitely more obvious than I would like.

He sighs and leans back in his chair, motioning again to the seat in front of his desk. "Take a seat."

I simply shake my head and wait patiently for him to answer, exactly how much of that patience I have left...I'm not so sure.

He purses his lips before speaking again. "Trust me. You need to take a seat before I tell you anything.

My breath catches, and a sharp pain radiates from my chest as I oblige and sit down.

"We lost contact a few days ago." He begins. "We have reason to believe she has been captured, and may be dead if not worse."

She's probably being tortured for more information.. I grip the arms of the chair and my jaw clenches as I try to retrain my anger. I can feel how uneven my breathing is, and the vein in my forehead thumping. I lean forward, taking a several deep breaths to level my head before speaking. "You sent her. This is your fault, now you have to make it right." I can hear my voice growing louder as I lose control on my anger. "You have to help her!"

Pierce sighs again and shakes his head. "There's nothing I can do right now, Brock. I've sent in someone to see if she's even alive, and if she is we will go from there. Until then, I suggest you remember your place."

I stand quickly, causing the chair to fall back behind me and Pierce to narrow his eyes as I lean over his desk towards him. "If you don't find her soon, I'm going after her myself."

I don't wait for a response, but instead storm out and slam the door behind me.

Your POV:

You lost contact with HQ some time ago, looks like I'm on my own.

Tracking down Rollins had been easy, but there was much more to this than Pierce had known; Rollins wasn't a disgruntled ex-employee, he had been a spy. His whole career in SHIELD had just been a rouse to get information, an opportunity that you ruined for him. Needless to say...you can't let him catch you snooping around.

You've gotten more than enough evidence for HQ, and now you need to finish your initial mission; take out Rollins.

He's finally alone tonight, a moment you've been waiting weeks for, and you're not going to pass it up.

You lower yourself down from your perch quietly, making sure to stay in the shadows as you creep closer to Rollins. You draw your gun silently, and take aim. Your finger pulls on the trigger slightly, but you hesitate as you feel something press against the back of your head.

"Up." You hear a deep voice say, giving you no choice but to stand.

The man behind you takes your gun, and shoves you forward towards a waiting Rollins.

Fuck...

"Hey buddy, long time no see." You smile.

You feel the back of his hand across your cheek, sending you to the ground and leaving a nasty cut from his glove.

"Okay, so I see you still haven't found a sense of humor." You chuckle, as you slowly stand up again.

"I'm glad you're the one they sent, it makes killing you so much easier." He growls.

He moves to punch you, but you dodge his blow and grab his wrist, keeping a firm grip as you turn and kick his ribs. The leverage his arm provided allowed your kick to hit much harder, knocking him to the ground where you leave him to turn your attention to the other man.

He's aiming a gun at you, your own gun to be exact. That's just messed up.

You rush forward, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards you as you turn out of the line of fire to knock him off balance as you grab the barrel of the gun to disarm him. You waste no time in turning the gun on him, killing him without a second thought.

You turn in time to see Rollins rushing towards you. You lift your gun but he kicks it out of your hand, then wraps his hands around your neck. You grip his wrists pulling them outwards as you bring your knee up between his legs, causing him to double over in pain.

You move for your gun, but he's on you just before you reach it. He kicks your legs out from under you causing you to slam to the ground, but you kick his knee so that he falls beside you.

You quickly try to catch your breath as you stumble to your feet, and drive your fist down to his chest making his gasp. You wrap your hands around his throat, slamming his head back against the concrete floor several times.

You feel one of his hands at your back, but before you have time to react you feel something warm running down your side. You fall over onto your back, gasping for air as you look down at your own blade protruding from your side. You grip the hilt and let out a growl like sound as you pull it from your body.

You clench your jaw, attempting to steady your breathing as you see Rollins making his way for your gun across the floor.

You gasp in pain as you press your way back up to your feet, gripping your blade tight as you stalk your way towards Rollins. You use any energy you have left to drive the blade into his back, puncturing one of his lungs and bringing him to his knees as he struggles to get enough air. You yank the blade out forcefully, then drag it across his throat to finish the job.

You wipe your blade off on his shirt, and replace both it as well as your gun in their rightful places.

You turn back to the other man you killed, and search his pockets until you find what you were looking for; keys. You hold your side as you make your way to the collection of SUVs just outside, and search each one until you finally find which one the keys unlock.

Time to go home.

Brock's POV:

I take the last bite of my sandwich, and throw away the wrapper as I make my way out of the cafeteria. The meeting with Pierce hadn't gone well, but I'd give him another day to find her before going after her myself. Hopefully she can hold out that long.

I hear a commotion behind me, and open the door back to the cafeteria to see a crowd gathering at the windows. I rush over, forcing my way between people to look out the window for myself. A black SUV -definitely not one of ours- is making its way onto HQ property, but it's swerving dangerously and succeeds only in crashing into a pillar outside.

I rush out the doors and down the stairs towards the SUV, gun drawn as I approach cautiously.

"Get out with your hands up!" I bark, slowly stepping around to the driver's side to pull them out if I have to.

The windows are tinted, and I can't see a thing inside.

I move to step closer, but end up stepping back further as I hear the door click and start to open.

I steady my footing and take aim for whoever steps out, but nothing could have prepared me for who falls out onto the ground.

It was her. She's alive! ....right?... shit..

"Call a medic!" I yell to the growing crowd now at the steps as I place my gun back in its holster.

I rush forward and kneel beside her, turning her over gently to check her neck for a pulse. It's there, but faint. I pull her onto my lap and brush the hair out of her face, revealing several cuts and bruises across her gorgeous features.

I feel my eyes start to sting, and my breath catch in my throat as I look down to her bloodstained shirt and see just how injured she is. I quickly press my hand to her side, hoping it's not too late.

"I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. I shouldn't have ever let you go alone. I shouldn't have suggested you to Pierce." I look at her face again, knowing she's unconscious but feeling the need to apologize anyway. I sniff and bite the inside of my cheek as I look down at my hand, now covered in her blood as I try to keep the pressure on her wound. "I should have come after you. I can't lose you.."

The medic team finally shows up, and kneels beside us.

"Sir." I hear a man talking, but don't really pay attention. I'm focused on her face as I run my free hand through her hair. "Sir..." He speaks again. "We need to take her. If we don't get her in now, she might die."

I look up briefly, nodding as the others come to help take her.

As they lift her out of my arms I can't help but feel alone.

My breath catches as I see her limp body being taken onto the Med truck for transport, I rush forward and thankfully the medics pause for a moment. Just long enough for me to place a soft kiss on her forehead before they take her away.

I'm left standing there, alone... I look down to see myself covered in her blood, and I feel a sick knot in my stomach as I fall to my knees.

(Not my GIF)

 Chapter 20 . Chapter 21 . Chapter 22 . Chapter 23 . Chapter 24 . Chapter 25 . Chapter 26 . Chapter 27 . Chapter 28 . Chapter 29 . Chapter 30 . Chapter 31

[perlocutionary]

Following Orders pt. 7 - Mitch Rapp

Description: Y/N and Stan have to deal with a new recruit being sent in. Training a handsome, reckless man is one thing. But can she keep her hands to herself?

Stan is more than upset when the hotel bill arrives. But is their punishment really a punishment?

Relationship: Mitch Rapp x Reader - AMERICAN ASSASSIN

Title: I fucking followed an order. Word count: 2153

A/N: Again, I totally forgot to update! I’m so sorry! But here it is :)

Part 1. *  Part 2.** Part 3**. Part 4** Part 5* Part 6**

One jab into his side, one against his shoulder, and Mitch is staggering onto his knees beside me, an angry huff slipping past his lips. The other recruits’ laughter runs through the facility, my head snapping back to immediately shut them up. “If you’re planning on just winging it, I swear to god you’ll get killed before you know it. That goes for all of you.”

I hold my hand out for Mitch, who grins up at me and wraps his long, calloused fingers around my wrist to hoist himself back onto his feet. “Expect the unexpected. If you’d see me on the streets you wouldn’t think I’d jam a knife down your throat – but I would.”

I’d asked Mitch to help me out with the newer recruits to show them different techniques in fighting someone bare-handed. His fingertips are dancing along the small of my back, trailing toward my ass as he gives it a firm squeeze. A harsh glare is thrown in his direction as I shrug him off, walking away from him and toward the young men and women staring intently at my next order.

“And I’d be happy to do so if the opportunity arises. Now, everyone, pick up a knife and –“

“RAPP! Y/L/N!” Stan’s voice screeches through the intercom and I duck, covering my head and neck at the loud, intruding sound. I slowly raise back to my original height, shaking my head as I look around at the shaken-up newbies. “Fucking hell man – I thought we were under attack.”

“Never flinch, didn’t Hurley teach you that, Y/N?” Mitch grins as the tip of his tongue pokes the corner of his mouth, the smug grin he’d sport after a quick make-out permanently etched onto his lips. “From a gunshot, yeah. But he never trained me to be used to the sound of his voice.” I laugh it off, brushing my shoulder as I turn to walk out of the gym and toward Stan’s office.

“Practice what we have shown you. I’ll be back later.” I yell to the recruits as I hold the door open for Mitch to pass me, a wink cast my way as he does so. As soon as the loud echo of the closing doors resonate through the otherwise silent hallway, Mitch’s arm is thrown over my shoulder, hauling me against his chest.

“Aren’t you touchy-feely today.” I sigh, my hand raising to rest on his taut chest, rubbing small, lazy circles over his clothed torso as we slowly thread through the empty halls. He hums in return, pressing his stubble covered cheek against my neck before his lips pucker and press against my inflamed skin, teeth slowly grazing over my pulse point.

His voice is a mere whisper. “You look really good in spandex.” A snort leaves my lips, pushing his head away from me as I turn around, walking backwards as I throw him my smug grin. “Mhm. But let me guess – you think they’d look better on your bedroom floor?” The mischievous twinkle in his eyes speaks louder than words ever could.

His arm reaches out and his fingers curl around my elbow, yanking me towards him, our chests colliding harshly. His lips are feverish against mine, his whole demeanor showing just how much he needed me in this moment – and he wasn’t the only one. The only thing I could think of was what had happened in that hotel room – over and over again.

I don’t know what was going on between Mitch Rapp and I, but I did know that I liked it. He seemed more protective, less violent toward me, and he’d be touching me every chance he got. Usually that meant that I’d be hot and bothered in my own bedroom late at night, thinking about what could’ve happened if I were allowed to do what I wanted to.

He’d purposely rid himself of his shirt, his upper body covered in sweat, whenever we were training. He’d lick his lips, just because I mentioned how it seemed to snap me out of reality. He’d flex his arms, biceps big and taut as I couldn’t help but stare at the veins running along his forearms. He’d grind his hips against mine whenever he got me down onto the mat, forcing me to keep my moans to myself when he retracted, and I was thrown back into said reality. I disconnect our lips, my tongue swiping along his bottom lip before I fall back into pace with him. “What do you think Stan wants us in for?”

I nod my head as Victor passes us, his toothy grin causing Mitch to glare at the man until he was out of sight. His voice drops into a whisper, his fingertips dancing along my inner arm. “I’m hoping a mission, just us two. It’s been forever since we had some alone time.”

As much as Mitch’s words and implies shook me – not to say aroused me horrendously – a chuckle slips me. When Mitch wasn’t thinking about murder, it seemed his mind was set on sexual actions. “Ah yes, because that seems logical. Go kill off this terrorist cell in Italy and you know, while you’re at it Rapp, fuck Y/N into her mattress when you have the chance.”

“Doesn’t that sound like a dream to you?” Mitch’s lips connect with my jaw and he pulls back just in time for us to round the corner, Stan Hurley impatiently awaiting our arrival. I roll my eyes dramatically at his statement, opening my mouth for a witty reply of my own before Stan speaks up.

“You first, Y/N. I’ll deal with you later.” Stan’s finger accusingly points at Mitch’s face, the threat evident in his voice. I swallow loudly, glancing from Mitch to Stan before passing the older man, and disappearing into his office. “You stay here. And if I notice you eavesdrop I’ll make sure to cut both your ears off, Rapp.” Stan throws another threat at Mitch and I can’t help but giggle, looking over Stan’s shoulder to throw Mitch a kiss.

His eyes light up deviously as he nods his head briskly, retraining his gaze on Hurley. “Yes sir.”

“Y/N…” Stan sighs as he closes the door behind him, his hand motioning for me to take a seat. Instead of going for the chair on the opposite side of his desk, I walk over to the sofa and let myself fall down on the worn green leather, throwing my legs up and relaxing for the first time since Mitch and I had returned.

“What’s up? I know I shouldn’t have broken that kid’s nose, but he was so arrogant – and he deserved it. Who the fuck bites people?” I half-ass my excuse, although I didn’t mean to do it. I had Mitch spar with one of the newer recruits that possessed almost as much anger as Mitch had when he first arrived here – but with less calculation to his actions.

I didn’t expect him to attack Mitch with his razor-sharp teeth as well. I only did what I had to. Stan stops in his tracks, his head slowly turning, frown set onto his brow. He opens his mouth a few times, without a word leaving them, before the smallest shake of his head follows. “Did he bite Mitch?” An affirmative hum from me widens Stan’s eyes. “Oh my god – but that’s not why you’re here.”

He seems to stall, and I sit up straight again, leaning my elbows onto my knees as I wait for Stan to elaborate. “I – uh – don’t want a detailed debriefing of your mission,” Stan starts, his back still turned towards me. I jump a little when he briskly turns on his heel, his hand loudly slapping on the coffee table, a white piece of paper peeking from underneath his large fingers. “But I do want an explanation what this is.”

He lifts his hand and I lean forward, eyes scanning over the white piece of paper. I purse my lips to refrain myself from the grin that wants to break through as my cheeks redden visibly when realization dawns. “That’s a hotel bill, Sir.”

“I know what it is, Y/L/N! Care to explain why I am receiving a kind reminder to pay up for damaged goods.” His voice is an angry whisper and when I dare to gaze up, I see his cheeks almost as red as mine – although I might feel the slightest bit of embarrassment, his vessels are dilated with rage.

I start fumbling with my fingers as I cast my gaze to the coffee table once more. “I uh – Got carried away?” I am trying my best to be sincere, but it was just too damn hilarious. I had never thought that Orion would’ve to pay the bill for Mitch and I trashing those two hotel rooms – purely on accident, of course.

Another sigh slips past his lips as Stan tiredly drops onto his chair. His eyes slowly drift closed, his hand running along his face in pure exasperation. “You broke the bath tub, Y/N. The bath tub. I can’t even come up with an explanation as to how.”

He sounds so defeated, like a dad when their kid comes home drunk after their first party. I suppress the humiliation that wants to seep through at the thought of Stan knowing exactly what Mitch and I had done, scraping my throat to answer my boss in front of me.

“I thought you didn’t want me to give a detailed debriefing?” An animalistic growl leaves Stan’s lips and he snaps onto his feet, stalking rapidly toward me. I raise to my feet as well, stepping away from the sofa and toward the door as I try to suppress the smug-eating grin – and fail.

His finger is dangling in front of my nose, almost touching the tip, as he glares at me. “Don’t get sassy with me young lady, or I’ll make sure the next month is your worst nightmare.” Instead of making another witty remark, which would surely lead to me scrubbing the men’s bathroom for a whole month, I merely nod my head and press my lips together.

“It’s simple. You’re not going on that mission with us, neither is Rapp. Gives you some time to think your actions through.” Stan takes a step back, fully aware of the shock that dawns on me and the anger that follows immediately after. I blink rapidly a few times, pursing my lips before sinking my canines into the soft, red flesh.

“You cannot do this to me! I fucking followed an order.” I bark, throwing my hands up as I take a daring step toward my boss. He holds his hand out, as if that were to stop me, his head shaking in disapproval of my actions.  “I have no idea what you did, but I’m sure as hell I didn’t give that order.”

A sigh leaves my lips as I rake my brain for a possible solution that’ll change Stan’s mind – although I know that there is nothing that could ever do such a thing. I try to reason one last time. “Ah, come on Stan. You know you’ll need me out there! Don’t do this – just let me scrub the toilets or something.”

He walks back over to his desk, picking up two manila folders that I know hold Mitch and I’s secret identities. “I know I will regret this, but maybe this way, you’ll both learn. You’ll stay here, train the recruits and wait upon our return. That’s an order.” His gaze flicks back up to me, a small smile etching onto his lips in hopes of make this less of a blow.

A groan leaves my lips, my feet stomping toward the door. I yank it open and spit my last argument before slamming the door behind me. “I’m not sure if I should take your orders anymore, Hurley. See where they got me.”

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Mitch immediately bolts upright from his slouched position against the wall, his hand cupping my neck, almost in a chokehold, as he turns my focus on his. “We’re not going.” “Going where?”

“To Moscow. He’s punishing us.” Mitch’s gaze seems to ignite in anger and I feel his fingertips tighten around my neck, my body already struggling to breathe. “Mitch. Mitch!” I squeeze his shoulders, his hand immediately dropping their firm grip and I grin at him. “Which inevitably means we have the whole Orion facility practically to ourselves.” I watch his face contort into pure excitement as I can’t suppress the grin of my own.

“Rapp!” Stan’s voice booms through the closed office door and I step away from Mitch, but not before I press my lips firmly to the corner of Mitch’s mouth. “Now, go play angry. I’ll see you later.”

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[surrounded-by-superheroes]

Queen Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER ELEVEN HERE.

Summary; A shape-shifting girl with a bad past is recruited by Nick Fury into the Avengers. It’s there that she finally starts learning to let people in again and she’s especially intrigued by a blond haired and blue eyed Captain America. Will she learn to let him in? Will her past actually stay in the past?

A/N; Uhhhhh, sorry.

Warnings; This is a dark chapter, guys. Flashbacks, blood, torture, language.

Words; 2,961

Chapter Twelve

Little Dory

“No.” Voltage runs through me and I spasm in the chair, my back arching and a scream tearing its way out of my throat.

“We were kind to you before, dear Victoria, because you were our one success. That’s changed. Although, we’re even being kind to you now by offering you a choice. Now, either you kill them now, or, we remove your memories and you kill them then. Either way, they die. Either way, you kill them. Choose, or we will choose for you.” My mother says in her creepily smooth voice. She lays her hand on my forehead and I turn my head away in disgust. Her hand rescinds and I feel the bigger, rougher hand of my father’s replace it.

“V, we made you who you are. We can unmake you.” He sighs, his deep voice almost makes the chair I’m in vibrate because of the resonance. “We’d rather not because there’s a risk you’ll lose all physical memory as well, meaning we’d have to retrain you, but we are willing to make that sacrifice.” He says, resigned. “That is the choice that will be made for you, if you do not follow our orders. Your memories will be taken from you.” I am now biting my tongue to keep myself from crying. I turn back and look at him. I have always hated how I still look like my parents. I have my father’s curly hair and his skin tone. I have my mother’s nose and uneven lips. My eyes are the both of theirs combined; my mother’s brown and my father’s green. Unlike them, I have small lines beside my eyes from smiling while my father has lines in his forehead from squinting at petri dishes. My mother has deeper, curved lines around her mouth that appear when she frowns, telling others that she frowns often. I meet my father’s eyes with determination and shake my head again.

“No.” I decline their ‘kind’ offer once again, knowing that it’s the last time. Both of my parents sigh, but my mother waves over an orderly of sorts who rushes over with a tray of tools. She pulls on her gloves and exchanges places with my father, both of them looking grim.

“Now, this is going to be different than all the other times. We have made a new surgery!” Some excitement tints my mother’s voice and I do my best not to cringe away from her. She holds up a thin metal looking wire that can’t be more than two feet long. “I’ll insert this directly into your brain via your nose and put both ends against your hippocampus. That’s where your memories are. Then, we’ll channel volts of electricity through the wire and into your brain. Thus, erasing your memories, but hopefully not your physical responses.” She explains with glee, and I shut my eyes and think of Tony saying I’m not a monster. How can I not be, with parents like these? God, what I wouldn’t give to see his smirk or Steve’s blue eyes. I was an idiot to come here alone. My eyes snap open when I feel a strap being fastened over my forehead and then over my chin.

“Wait, wait, wait. I have a question.” I beg for them to pause, and they do, surprisingly. I glance between my parents and ask them something I’ve been wondering for a long time. “Why did you do this to me? Why couldn’t you just…just love me?” I clench my teeth afterwards to prevent my tears from leaking out and wait for their answer. My father puts his arm around my mother and she glances up at him with a smile as he answers for them both.

“V, we do this because we love you. Can’t you see? We’re making you more than you are! A true marvel of science.” He says with a smile, and I can no longer withhold my tears. They spill out at a rapid pace, even more when my mother begins slowly inserting the thin wire in my nostrils. But I know it’s only discomfort compared to what they’re about to do. I pull against the restraints on my wrists and ankles and briefly think of shifting, but know the restraints have heat sensors in them. I’m sure the voltage they contain would knock an elephant on its ass, it definitely wouldn’t have a problem frying me. I shut my eyes and go over all my memories while I still can as I hear the familiar hum of electricity as the machine heats up. I go through each face of the team, leaving Nat, Tony, and…Steve last. I regret that I never got to fight Natasha. I’m sure it would have been thrilling. I remember her arms around me when she surprised me with a hug, her brilliant red hair that I’m slightly jealous of, and the secret smile she gave me when I became a tiger. I think of Tony putting his arm around me, his hugs, his scruffy kisses on my forehead, his stupid teasing and the way he broke down all my emotional walls with simply holding my hand and kissing my knuckles. I almost smile when I think of his unique smell; new cars, oil, and Axe deodorant. Finally, I think of Steve, my Steve. Those killer blue eyes and the fact that he never wanted to kill anyone. His hands squeezing my thighs, then my hand, then my waist. Our first kiss in that crowded club after dancing for two nights in a row. How our lips fit together and danced better than our bodies ever could. Me singing to him. His quiet voice singing to me on our first date, showing his vulnerability before he even knew I didn’t deserve it. His voice is the last thing I hear before the searing pain starts and all thought is whisked away by agony. After a while, I can’t even recall anything for me to hold on to anyway. Not even my own name. All that’s left is a man’s voice, soft and pleasing, singing a song I’ve never heard.

“And like an echo from far away, the nightingale sang in Berkeley Square…”

I wake up suddenly, covered in sweat. My eyes snap open to find myself not in my cage, but in a bed. I take a deep breath to calm myself and find that Tony’s scent swirls inside my nose, comforting me more than a dozen deep breaths could. As quietly as possible, I sit up and look around. Tony is at my side, reclining in a brown leather armchair. Captain America sits in another chair, but one that definitely doesn’t look as comfortable as Tony’s. I move to the side to get off the bed, but find Natasha sitting Indian style in the floor, her head resting on her hand that’s resting on her knee. All of them are asleep, watching me, I assume. It’s tempting to wake up Tony. Just so I can talk to him, hug him, hear his voice, but I resist. He probably needs his rest. I glance back at Natasha as I hear her sigh. As soon as I see her head of red hair, images flash through my head all of her. With them is a stinging pain inside my head, so intense I freeze and shut my eyes. Once my memories of Nat are restored I open my eyes and a couple tears slip out. I wiggle out from under the covers and crouch on the bed. I shift into a blue-bird, wanting not to wake them. I fly to the door, then shift into a ladybug to slip through the crack. I do so then shift back into myself once I’m outside. I need some space to think. I walk briskly to the left, looking for an empty room to just sit and think in. When I see the reflection of water on the ceiling inside a room, I burst into the room and grin at the sight of water. Surveying the room, I spot a closet door and run over to it, yanking open the door. I change into one of the dozens of suits within and slip quietly into the pool. Gills appear on my neck as I sink to the bottom of the deep end. I take a deep breath as peace settles within me, but my mind is anything but peaceful.

I sort through my jumbled-up mind. Since yesterday, everything seems like it’s been misplaced. I go back to yesterday first. I remember everything that happened, including remembering Tony. But everything is conflicting with each other. I remember my sweet Tony, the one who loves to put his arm around me, give me scruffy forehead kisses, and lets me sleep in his bed when I’m scared. I also remember being shown pictures of Tony and the firm feeling of enemy, target, and danger. The same with Natasha. Slowly, I lean back until I’m lying on the floor of the pool, staring up at the barely moving surface. I’m sure if I weren’t underwater, I’d be crying. Instead, I scream under the water as frustration engulfs me. My nightmare is fresh in my mind as well, although my consciousness had forgotten it before reliving it. Who to trust? The supe-my parents? Or Tony and the others who seem to know me? The answer seems obvious, but with my mind like this; coherent thought seems too good to be true. Slight movement draws my eyes to the side of the pool, beyond the surface. I rise to the top immediately, curious to see who it is. My head breaks the surface and I smile; Tony.

“I thought this is where you might be, little Dory.” He says, smiling sleepily. I lift myself out of the pool on the side opposite of him, not wanting to get him wet. I hold out a hand as if I can hold him there by sheer force of will.

“Don’t go anywhere, please.” I beg him. He nods once.

“I won’t leave. I promise.” I consider his eyes and find them trustworthy. I run to the closet and dry off as quickly as possible, wrapping my hair in a towel after wiping myself down. Frowning, I stare at the clothes I’ve had on since leaving the compound. A gentle knock at the door has me almost jumping into a new skin, but I relax when I hear Tony’s voice on the other side of the door. “Queen?” I grin at the nickname. “I brought you some new clothes. Yes, I know I broke the rules by leaving, but I thought you’d appreciate it anyway.” I open the door while hiding behind it and watch Tony take in my towel-hair. “Sexy.” He says simply and I laugh. His face lights up at the sound as he hands me my clothes.

“Thank you.” I take them and shut the door, changing quickly. The clothes are simple. A black tank-top and red plaid pajama pants. Along with underwear and a bra of course. I shake my head as I put them on. I still remember that shopping trip we took, although some parts are fuzzier than others. After changing I jump out and immediately look for Tony. He’s still there, lounging on a laid back beach chair. I sigh in relief and head over to him.

“I’m thinking it’s a safe assumption to say you remember me?” He asks. I sit beside him so we’re squished together on the chair and my head is on his shoulder.

“Duh, Lord M. Your pungent smell is enough to bring someone back from death, bringing back some memories was no problem.” I tease and I can hear him smile. He wiggles a bit and wraps an arm around me, then pulls my head towards him for a scruffy forehead kiss. I turn on my side, giving both of us more room. I wrap an arm around his waist and lay my other arm on his chest, my hand on his heart. I shut my eyes, feeling more at home than I have in weeks.

““You know, you have a nice smell too.” He mumbles quietly. “There’s something wild about it, like you carry the smell of a rainforest or mountains or something. Then, you smell like sweat, but not like B.O., somehow your sweat smells like sunshine.” I stare at his closed eyes in shock, touched, but he isn’t finished. “And of course, you smell like home. Your clothes smell like my drawers and your hair smells like my detergent from sleeping in my sheets.”

“Thank you, Tony. I…I consider this home too. I’m sorry I ever left.” I finish quietly. As we sit in the silence, I interrupt it by humming the first song that comes to mind. A slow song with drawn out words and a haunting melody. I don’t know all the words, so I just settle for humming the tune. Tony interrupts me with his words, and I stop the tune, sadly.

“Do you want to talk about it, kiddo?” He asks me gently. My hand on his shirt turns into a fist and I turn my face towards his armpit; it smells very Tony there. After a couple deep breaths, I turn my face back out, Tony’s chin reflexively resting on my head.

“Everything is still so mixed-up in my head. I mean, I remember you and all my memories with you, but I also remember seeing pictures of you and the intense feeling that you were bad.” I move back to look at his face. “Which you aren’t, obviously.” I assure him and he pulls me back to him.

“Damn. They must have rewired your brain. It’s actually not as advanced as one might think. Lobotomies did basically the same thing, but in this instance, they seem to have refined it and made it specific to us. They erased us from your mind and replaced us with others to suit their own desires.” Tony thinks aloud and I cringe slightly at the mention of lobotomies.

“Well, electricity definitely had a hand in it.” I say sarcastically, remembering the pain. Tony’s arm tightens around me as if he knows what I’m thinking. “Geez, I don’t even know the date. What’s the date?” I ask him, irritated with myself.

“September twenty-eighth. I’m assuming you don’t need to know the year?” Tony teases and I smack his chest.

“The twenty-eighth, huh? You know, the thirtieth is my birthday.” I muse, happy to be thinking about things as harmless as birthdays.

“Really? Your twenty-first, right?” Tony asks, his voice already telling me the gears in his brain are turning a mile a minute.

“Tony, don’t even think about doing anything. Just let it pass.” I tell him, but he scoffs. I sigh and roll my eyes. He won’t be forgetting that anytime soon. We sit quietly, peaceably, until it’s shattered.

“What did they do?” Tony asks tentatively, afraid of the answer. I shut my eyes as I sigh.

“They…put metal through my nose and attached it to my hippocampus,” I explain, remembering the explanation clearly, “then administered various levels of electricity to it so that I’d forget my memories.” I finish.

“My God. I’m so sorry, Queen.” He tugs me ever closer and wraps both of his arms around me. I do the same and sniffle quietly.

“That isn’t why I get upset. I’m upset because those people up there, I know them, don’t I? But I can’t remember them for who they are, I just have my false memories of them. That’s what kills me. I don’t even know my own life.” I say sadly.

“Oh, honey. You’ll get your life back, alright? You already remember me, so it won’t be long until you remember the others too. Don’t worry.” Tony comforts me and I let myself believe his words.

“I’m happy to have you, Tony.” I tell him quietly. He makes a sound of acknowledgement, sounding a little sleepy. “And I want you to know…I love you Tony.” I say hesitantly. Those words carry a lot of weight for me. When I receive a scruffy kiss, I relax again, although I didn’t realize I’d gone stiff.

“I love you too, kiddo. Obviously.” Tony responds before just resting his lips on my hair. I giggle slightly and move away from him a little to look at his face.

“And it’s because I love you that I’m going to tell you that you’re looking a little rough.” I tell him and stroke my chin where a beard would be if I had one. He shrugs and smiles, copying my gesture with a spare hand.

“Ah, yeah. I haven’t really felt like shaving. I haven’t even slept since, God knows when.” He meets my eyes and shrugs. “Probably a month.” I frown at him as I lay by head back on his shoulder.

“Tony. You should take care of yourself better.” I scold him. He huffs.

“Gee, sorry I didn’t feel like shaving while you were missing for a month, Victoria.” He sasses and I sigh.

“Tony, I can smell the alcohol on your breath.” I tell him quietly. He doesn’t respond. “That isn’t who you are, Tony. My memories may be fuzzy, but you’re Iron Man. You’re a hero. Stay that way.” I tell him firmly. His chest shakes slightly and I realize he’s laughing.

“Oh, Queen. I missed you.” He says. I shut my eyes and nod.

“I missed you too, Tony. You have no idea.” I tell him and sigh, too comfortable for words. Sleep comes to take me and I give in, wholeheartedly.

Chapter Thirteen found HERE.