#half sibling angst is wild

[the-flower-named-fire]

Specific Trope of the Day

The 'Antagonist Older Brother'

Maybe an actual villain, an temporary enemy or just a rival

[spider-stark]

THE BRIDGE

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!Reader

Summary - Your wardship with House Blackwood was meant to bridge the chasm between your families. Years later, you return to Stone Hedge as the whispers of war spread—only for Lord Tully to call for a hunt.

Warnings - fem!reader, complicated sibling relationship, fighting, (probably excessive) mentions of blood, talks about hunting/killing wild animals, !angst!, adult language, reader def suffering from identity crisis, probably deviates from canon some, kieran burton fan cast for benji, all characters 18+

Word Count - 5.6k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

When Grover Tully, the Lord Paramount of the Trident, sent word for each of his bannermen to send forth a handful of their finest House members to a most desolate area of the Whispering Woods, no one thought it wise to object. 

“Lord Grover is an ornery old crow,” your father, Humfrey Bracken huffed as you readied the horses. “But you would do well to earn his respect.” He clamped a hand on your brother’s shoulder, pride gleaming in his eyes as he said, “Whatever he’s planning, I want you to show him that House Bracken stands strong. Understood?” 

Keeping his chin held high, Amos hesitantly mutters, “If you wish to impress Lord Tully, you might think twice about sending her.” 

Even with your back turned, you could feel the weight of your brother’s stare, his eyes boring a hole into the back of your head. 

Your father shrugged, a disinterested gesture. “Grover said to send our best,” he said, “and when it comes to a bow and arrow, no one's a better shot than her.” 

For the next day-and-a-half, you rode at a distance from the group your father selected—your brother, Amos, and two of your male cousins. And while they laughed and jeered and yapped, you remained stuck in your own thoughts, playing your father’s words on a loop. 

It’s the only compliment he’s ever paid you. The closest he’s ever come to acknowledging you as Bracken. 

You hate him sometimes, you think. For agreeing to peace all those years ago—for sending his only daughter to ward with his rival of all people. He must have known it was futile. Must have known that one girl could never bridge such an ancient chasm. 

He must have known—and yet he sent you anyway, only to call you back years later, tearing you away from the only home you had ever known and leaving you to feel like a stranger in your House. 

Grover said to send our best. 

Are you a Bracken, then? Is blood all that determines a House? 

No one’s a better shot than her. 

But your skill is that of a Blackwood, born under their tutelage. 

Deep within the Woods, a steady mist of rain falls from the sky, leaving your skin uncomfortably damp. In the distance, a low hum of chattering voices signal that the four of you are drawing close to Lord Grover’s camp—and that the other House’s have already arrived. 

Your thoughts shift, wondering who Lord Samwell sent to represent House Blackwood—fearing that you might already know the answer. 

A strange tightness floods your chest, coiling around your lungs. 

It’s been months since you last saw the heir to Raventree Hall. Many, many months—and you can’t help but think any reunion might end in bloodshed with Amos by your side. 

As if he heard his name ring through your mind, your brother slows his horse to gentle trot beside yours, cocking a neatly groomed brow at you. “Tell me, sister—were you always this dour?” He asks, feigning intrigue. “Or did half-a-decade with the Blackwoods simply drain the joy from you?” 

You don’t pry your eyes from the path ahead, refusing to look him in the eye as he continues without waiting for an answer. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised—a mere day with those insipid cravens would have me wishing to swallow my own blade.” Removing a hand from the reins, he pantomimed the act—gripping an invisible hilt and shoving it towards his lips, letting a dramatic choke rip from his throat. 

Riding a bit ahead, your cousins chortle at his jest, shooting amused glances over their shoulders. 

“No need,” you answer without thinking, your tone impassive. “Aly would have an arrow in your eye before the day was up.” 

Your cousins fall silent. 

Amos stiffens, jaw clenched tight. “She could try.” 

You know Black Aly would try if given half the chance—and you have no doubt that she would succeed, too. She was the one who taught you how to string a bow and sharpen arrows, how to aim and never miss. 

When you don’t respond, Amos pulls his horse in closer—as close as he can get without spookings yours. “Look,” he utters, low enough that your cousins can’t overhear, “I don’t know how things were done at Raventree—but you’re home now, and you would do well to remember where your true loyalties lie.” 

Again, you don’t speak. Don’t think, either. 

Amos sighs. “Your blood runs gold, sister. You’re a Bracken, through-and-through. Take pride in that—and don’t bring shame upon our name. Understood?” 

Strange. 

You had seen your own blood before—more times than you can count, actually. Scars mottle your skin like stars in the sky, a reminder of the years spent training and the memories of nights spent with friends who were supposed to be enemies. 

Never once had it looked gold to you.

Only red. 

“I understand–” a pause, a breath, a heartbeat– “brother.” 

Nausea twists your stomach. The familial title curdles on your tongue even as Amos grins at you. There’s nothing affectionate about the gesture—how could there be? He doesn’t know you. Not really. 

Blood or no, you’re little more than strangers to each other—and yet, even so, you can see he’s trying. Trying to know you. 

Ahead, the camp comes into view. Banners hang above tents: white for the Mootons, blue for the Pipers, purple for the Mallisters. 

And red—for House Blackwood. 

Amos gives you one last glance, a pall mimicry of what you believe is meant to be love in his eyes. “You’re home now,” he reminds you again, as if you need to hear it,“be glad for it.” 

With the Tully’s guards now in earshot, Amos doesn’t bother with waiting for a response. He snaps the reins, urging his gelding back to the head of your group, already bellowing his greetings. You watch him go, transfixed on the yellow-gold of his tunic—identical to yours. 

Approaching the guards, you tell yourself that your brother is what home is supposed to look like. That if you were to slice your veins, gold would pour from your wrists. 

Not red. 

After checking in with the guards and tying your mare up in the makeshift paddock, there was no time left to freshen up before you were expected to join Amos and your cousins. With all the Houses now gathered, Lord Grover wasted no time in calling you all to the heart of the camp. 

Still, you try to make yourself presentable—using your fingers to comb through tangled, windswept hair and smoothing the wrinkles from your gold tunic, careful not to disturb the ornate brooch pinned above your heart. 

According to the guards, everyone was given one upon arrival. “All Houses are required to wear them,” they explained when Amos pressed them on it, “Lord Tully’s orders.” 

They were all different, it seemed. Yours was a delicate thing, fashioned from silver and pearls in the image of a blooming dahlia, while Amos’s was clunky and shaped like the sun. He’s still fumbling with it when you finally push through the small crowd, taking your place at his side. 

To your left, separated only by a group of five Frey men, you feel the wary glances being cast your way. You almost turn your head—almost glance back at them, if only to see what they might do. What he would do. 

Would he even acknowledge you? Or simply look away? 

The answer, thankfully, is one you don’t have time to learn. A servant garners attention, dragging a simple, plush chair to the group’s center. Following suit, another two servants assist the aged Lord Paramount from his tent, guiding him into his seat. On his right stands his eldest grandson—and your favorite Tully. Tall and dark-haired, Elmo looks more fearsome than he actually is, sparing you a quick, discreet wink when he spots you. 

“You may all be wondering,” Lord Grover wheezes, his lungs fighting for breath, “why I have called upon you all today—the many great Houses of our land.” 

As he speaks, old, gnarled hands punctuate his words, gesturing out to the many men gathered ‘round. His fingers shake with effort, his shoulders bowed beneath the weight of his many, many years. But his chin remains high, and his tone commanding—if a touch quavery. 

“I hear rumblings,” he continues, “from the South-East.” 

Lord Grover’s eyes, milky with cataracts, shift in the direction, staring blindly into the towering trees of the Whispering Woods. Beyond them, even. 

“Whispers of a great danger brewing in the Crownlands—within the King’s own court, if rumors are to be trusted.” 

Your spine turns to steel. 

Those rumors, you know, are as true as they come. Over the past several months, they had moved through the realm like a venomous serpent. Slithering from mouth to ear, hissing tales of the two factions that now divide King Viserys’s council. 

The Blacks and the Greens. 

The rightful heir and the first-born son. 

And the very reason your father had called you home. 

“War is coming,” a deep, foreboding warning, “and should it reach the Riverlands, I wish to know that we might stand united in its wrath. That we will not allow petty rivalries–” a pointed glance at your brother, and then to your left where, without looking, you know the Blackwood heir stands–“to tear us apart from within.” 

A heartbeat passes. Then another. 

The forest holds its breath. Cradles the Lord Paramount’s words in the air, weaving them around the many great Houses of the Riverlands. 

You wonder if this is what strength looks like. What it sounds like. 

You fear you already know which side of the war Lord Grover’s strength might fall—and you pray that you’re wrong. 

Placing a firm hand upon his grandfather’s shoulder, Elmo takes a step forward. “In an effort to promote civility between our Houses,” he announces in a tone that demands respect, “we have arranged for a hunt.” 

Your brow furrows. A hunt? 

“You will be divided into two person teams, working with an individual outside of your own House.” His gaze shifts to you, dark eyes gleaming with mischief. “Teams have already been decided. Upon your arrival, each of you was given a pin—your partner will bear a matching one. And while there will be no winners or losers, you should know that once you leave camp, you will not be permitted to return without a trophy of some kind.” 

Discontent spreads. Low murmurs fill the air. 

Amos voices his frustration louder than the rest.  “And when is this hunt to take place?” 

Elmo grins. “Now.” 

Instantly, murmurs grow to shouts. 

“You cannot be serious, my Lord!” 

“It is already sunset!” 

“Is this a jest?” 

Elmo’s grin never wavers, unphased by the protests—and Lord Grover appears content to let his grandson contend with everyone's bickering, exhausted from what little talking he had already done. 

“Might I suggest you move quickly,” Elmo speaks over the crowd. Glancing upwards, he squints at the black clouds rolling overhead, an amused lilt to his voice as he adds, “Lest you wish to be caught in the coming storm.” 

With no more than a curt nod to the crowd, Elmo turns on his heel, already veering off in the direction of his own tent as servants begin to help Lord Grover rise. 

“This is absurd,” your brother grumbles. 

You ignore him. Storming right past him, you make a beeline for the fleeing Lord. 

“A hunt?!” 

Fond as Elmo is of you, you know better than to shout at the future Lord Paramount of the Trident. Your voice remains no more than a harsh whisper, even as you shoot daggers into the back of his head. 

“At night, no less! In the middle of a gods-damned storm! Have you lost your mind?” 

“What? You think it’s a bad idea?” He chuckles, keeping a steady pace. “Of all people, I thought that you might appreciate the challenge of it all.” 

You stay on his heels. “Who is he?” 

“Who is who?” 

Further from the crowd now, you grow bold. You reach out and snag his arm, forcing him to stop and face you. “Ignorance isn’t a good look on you, Elm.” You grind out, “Swear that you didn’t pick him to be my partner.” 

A wrinkle forms between thick brows, feigning innocence. “What makes you think that I chose your partner?” 

“Because I know you. You’re always scheming—jutting your big nose into places it very well does not belong!” 

Elmo opens his mouth—hesitates—and then frowns. “Am I truly that transparent?” 

“You may as well be made of glass, Elm.” 

His pout deepens, still dancing around your question. “Well, let's say that I did choose your partner—theoretically, of course!” Your eyes roll. “I think you would find my choice to be quite suitable. If anything, you might even thank me-” 

“This isn’t a game, Elmo!” Desperate now, you can’t stop your voice from rising. “If you paired me with him, then Amos will–” 

“Kill him?” Elmo ventures. 

“Yes!’ 

Pursing his lips, Elmo’s gaze falls somewhere over your head. “Well,” he sucks in a breath, “it seems we may be past the point of stopping that from happening.” 

Your mind goes blank, your thoughts scattering like shards of glass. 

You spin on your heel, head whirling around in search of Amos in the throng. Less than a second and you spot him—not because your gaze was drawn to the familiar gold color of your own House, but because of the wall of stark scarlet standing before him. 

Blackwoods. Two of them on either side of the Raventree heir. 

And Benji—his hands pressed to your brother's chest, roughly shoving him back into one of your cousins. 

“Do me a favor,” Elmo's sigh cuts through your panicked haze. “Keep the two of them from plunging a sword in the others’ belly, would you?” 

Any other time and you might have told Elmo off, cursed him for putting you in this position—future Lord Paramount be damned. 

But not now. Not when centuries of rivalry serve as proof that nothing is more dangerous, more unpredictable than this—

A Blackwood and a Bracken—your brother and Benji—standing toe-to-toe. 

Mindless adrenaline is all that thrusts you into motion. Mud splatters up the legs of your trousers as you practically run in their direction, demanding as soon as you’re in ear shot, “What is this?!” 

Amos doesn’t acknowledge you. Neither does Benji. 

Chests-puffed, they remain locked in their foolish staring match, neither of them willing to be the first to back down. 

Finally, one of your cousins sneers, “Seems that Benji-boy here thinks we’re gonna let him take you out into the woods.” 

A sharp, nasty laugh rips from Amos’s throat. “As if I’d let that happen!” 

“We’re partnered for the hunt, you imbecile.” Benji’s tone is that of lethal calm, even as he glares down his nose at your brother. You look to his chest—spotting the silver dahlia pinned at his breast. “If you have a problem with it, take it up with Tully.” 

“You think I’m stupid, Blackwood?!” 

Benji’s brow lifts a fraction of an inch, as if silently proclaiming—I just said so, did I not? 

Scowling, Amos juts his finger against Benji’s chest. “I refuse to give a Blackwood an opportunity to defile my sister!” 

Benji’s answering grin is something wicked as he purrs, “Oh, if I wanted to defile your sister, Bracken, I could’ve done so a long time ago.” 

Your pulse pounds—caught somewhere between offense and desire as Benji’s words echo in your head. 

Both feelings fade to fear when Amos reaches for the hilt of his sword, wrenching it from the sheath at his hip. In a blink, more weapons are drawn—your cousins holding swords, the Blackwoods holding daggers. 

Not Benji, though. 

Benji doesn’t flinch, even with your brother's sword poised at his throat, ready to kill. Something flickers in his eyes—a shift that you know all too well, sending ice skittering across your bones. 

“I won’t have this,” Amos seethes. “You will find another partner—or I swear on my House that blood will be shed!” 

Benji leans closer. Let the tip of the blade dig into his flesh, a rivulet of blood rolling down his throat. 

Red. 

“Is that a threat, Bracken?” 

You can hear your brother swallow—feel his panic as if it were your own, as if it was his fear coursing through your veins. Still, his voice remains steady. “Consider it a promise, Blackwood.” 

A blink and steel was glinting before your eyes. A single breath and Amos was out-maneuvered and out-matched—the clash erupting and subsiding in one seamless heartbeat, ending with your brother's sword in Benji’s hand. 

A shuddering breath slips from your brother's lips as Benji presses the steel to his throat, a perfect mirror of the position they were in just moments ago. 

“What’s the matter, Bracken?” Benji croons sarcastically, head hilting. “Do I frighten you?” 

There’s a lull to his voice—an eerie stillness that sends a chill scuttering down your spine. 

Amos was ignorant—to pick a fight with Benji, to think he might actually win it. But he’s your brother, too—and you know that if he were to be slain right now—right here—an even larger chasm will take the place of the one you were once meant to bridge. 

“Stop.” 

The demand is no more than a breath. A soft, terrified sound. 

Yet still, it makes Benji’s focus waver. 

“Leave him.” You force yourself to speak louder. Stronger. “Now.” 

You take a step closer—a hand outstretched, reaching towards Benji. His attention shifts, settling on you. He blinks—his stormy eyes, dark with rage, finally starting to clear. 

Benji’s movements languid as he steps away from your brother. Your cousins rush to Amos’s side as he stumbles back, frantically checking the heir of Stone Hedge for any sign of injury. 

They found none. Not even a scratch upon his throat, where his own sword had just hovered. 

Benji passes you the sword—a silent conversation passing between the two of you. 

You could have killed him, you glare. 

I could have—Benji agrees with a small, self-satisfied smile—but I didn’t. 

One of your cousins, bold and stupid, steps forward. “Is that all it takes to keep you at heel, Blackwood?” He glances between the two of you, his lip curling into a sneer. “A dog and his bitch,” he taunts, “how sweet–” 

A cry rips from his throat, cutting his insult short. You expect it to be Benji, having noticed the way his fists had clenched from the moment your cousin so much as looked at you. And perhaps it would’ve been—if your brother hadn’t grabbed the fool by the scruff of his neck, yanking him backwards and shoving him to the muddy ground. 

“Say what you want of him,” Amos tells your cousin, his voice gruff, “but you will mind how you speak of her.” 

You don’t know what to make of that. Of Amos defending you. Of knowing that if he hadn’t, Benji would have. Or that, even after that, Amos doesn’t quite know how to look you in the eyes, looking to the grass and the sky and anything that isn’t you. 

You’re a Bracken, through-and-through. Take pride in that. 

But did he take pride in you? 

If you wish to impress Lord Tully, you might think twice about sending her. 

“What’s done is done.” With a pointed look towards Lord Grover’s tent off in the distance, you say, “Now is not the time nor the place. If you wish so badly to fight, save it for when the war begins.” 

On one side of you, Benji remains silent, watching you with a curious glint in his eye. On the other, Amos hesitates. 

“I don’t trust him,” he says. 

You wonder if he doesn’t know how to say: I’m worried about you. 

“You heard our father,” you tell him, chin high, “when it comes to a bow and arrow, no one’s a better shot.” 

Perhaps there are things you don’t know how to say, too. Like: But I do. I trust him with my life. Maybe even with yours, too. 

Begrudgingly, Benji meets your brother's gaze, fighting the urge to scowl at him. “For years, no harm befell your sister under my watch—and you have my word that none shall befall her now,” he vows. “I swear it upon the Old Gods.” 

“And the New?” 

You consider stomping on Amos’s foot. 

Ignorant. To continue pushing— 

“Fine.” Benji’s brusque answer takes you by surprise. “Upon your false Gods as well, then.” 

Amos, to his credit, argues no further, only echoing the Raventree heir. “Fine.” 

For a fleeting moment longer, they stand there, eyes locked. Amos is the first to turn—the roaring tension dissipating into a hushed hiss as him and your cousins storm off. Benji stays, even as his own men begin to back off, as if listening to a silent command to go find their own partners. 

You look at him. And he smiles—a shy, awkward thing. 

“I’ll wait for you,” he says, a barely perceptible pause in his speech. “At the edge of camp—you can find me whenever you’ve gathered your things.” 

You open your mouth to speak, to say something—but the words take root in your chest, leaving vines to crawl up your throat. If you speak, you worry about what might come out. Worry it won’t be as delicate as the dahlia pinned above your heart—above his, too. 

So you close your mouth. Say nothing. Nod—and turn, trying to keep your legs from shaking as you walk back to the makeshift paddock to get what you would need for the hunt. 

True to his word, you find the heir of Raventree at the edge of camp, leaning against a towering oak and using the tip of his dagger to idly pick dirt from his nails. 

You brought only what was necessary—your bow, strapped between your shoulders, and a dark-leather quiver slung over your shoulder, stocked with already-sharpened arrows. 

Light rain mists over your face, the sky groaning with a low rumble of thunder. The forest floor squelches beneath your feet as you trudge towards him. Forever on-guard, Benji wastes no time in pushing himself off the tree, adjusting the dagger in his palm so that it can be easily plunged into another's belly if necessary. 

But then he sees you, dressed in Bracken gold with damp hair sticking to your cheeks, and looses a breath. Relaxing at the sight of you—his rival, according to centuries of precedent. Your rival, too, you suppose. 

Benji doesn’t look like your rival, though. 

Sheathing his dagger at his hip, you see no trace of the lethal Lord who, mere moments ago, was willing to go head-to-head with the heir to Stone Hedge. This boy—stuffing his hands in his pockets, a light flush crawling up his throat—is not Benjicot Blackwood, the heir of Raventree Hall. 

He’s just Benji. 

“Ready to go?” He asks when you’re closer, his voice a familiar caress so unlike the eerie lull it held earlier. 

It takes everything in you to erect an icy wall around your heart, colder even than Northern winds. You shove past him, your shoulder knocking into his as you go and earning a perplexed stare. “Let’s get this over with,” you snap, plunging into the depths of the Woods and leaving him to follow behind. 

Ten minutes pass. Twenty. 

Dusk crept swiftly through the Riverlands, casting a pall shadow over the Whispering Woods. Overhead, dark clouds seem to grow thicker, obscuring what little light the moon has to offer. 

A fool’s errand. An impossible task. 

That is what Elmo Tully had arranged—not a hunt. 

With the sun hidden beyond the horizon and a near-constant rumble of thunder, any animal in these Woods would either be asleep or hiding by now, trying to escape the incoming storm. To find a trophy to bring back to camp—even something as simple as a hare—was unlikely. 

Still, knowing the guards won’t let you back in without one, you keep walking. Keep plunging further into the Woods, praying to the Gods that you might find something to take back to camp. 

Twigs snap a few paces behind you, wet foliage squelching beneath purposefully heavy steps. A low, careless whistle tests your patience. 

With your bow hanging from your hand, you grumble, “You’re being too loud.” 

Benji feigns innocence. “Am I?” 

“Yes,” you hiss through gritted teeth, never slowing your pace. “Be quiet—unless you wish to scare off any game and spend the night sleeping on wet soil.” 

He chuckles—loudly. “Have you looked up lately?” Benji asks. “The sky looks as if it’ll crack open any minute now! Any animal with sense is hiding right now, anyway.” 

True. 

“Then we find one without sense, then.” 

Benji snorts. “The only thing without sense in this forest is Amos Bracken.” 

Without warning, you stop dead in your tracks—leaving Benji to nearly stumble into you. You cast a glare over your shoulder, cold enough that a chill seeps right into his bones. “You’d do well to keep quiet, Benjicot.” 

His lip curls, revealing a flash of slightly crooked teeth. “And since when do you call me Benjicot?” He asks, a ribbon of disbelief lacing his own name. 

Your jaw tenses, a muscle feathering there. 

I don’t know, you think, a pang of uncertainty cracking the ice wall around your heart. 

You reinforce ice with steel—turning fully now so that you’re face-to-face, dropping your bow to the ground by your feet. “I won’t let you speak of him that way,” you say, ignoring his question. “My brother is the heir to Stone Hedge–” 

A bemused laugh cuts through your words. “Oh, he’s your brother now, is he?” 

You speak over him, voice rising. “To insult him is to insult the whole of House Bracken–” 

“Fuck House Bracken,” Benji growls. 

He takes a half-step closer, towering over you with no more than a foot between you. You don’t falter—don’t look away. 

“I am a Bracken."

His head tilts. “Are you? Last I checked, you were practically raised on Blackwood soil.” 

“Perhaps,” you admit. “But my wardship is over–” 

Benji cuts you off. “Tell me, where was your brother all these years, then? Your father?” He doesn’t let you answer. “No more than a brisk-fucking-walk separating you and yet neither one of them cared to visit with the forgotten daughter of Stone Hedge!” 

You’re a Bracken—

“You don’t know them,” you protest weakly, your resolve crumbling. 

—through-and-through. 

“And you do?” He challenges. Another step, his chest inches from yours. Warmth radiates from his body, seeping into yours and melting melting melting. “Why did your father call you home?” 

His words are no more than a breath fanning across your cheek. 

Vulnerability permeates your gaze, bearing an unspoken truth. Because war is coming, you convey with no more than a flicker of your lashes, and fate has already decided my role in it. 

Benji’s lips tighten to a thin line—and you would’ve thought him ashamed of you, if not for the pain glimmering in his stormy-eyes, lined with silver. “Your father,” he utters, “he will declare for Aegon Targaryen—won’t he?” 

You’re a Bracken—

You debate the merits of telling him the truth. Of betraying the plans of your house. 

—Take pride in that. 

“Aegon Targaryen is the King’s true-born son.” You speak, though you know the words are not your own. “To sit the Iron Throne is his birthright.” 

The birthright of a drunken craven. 

The betrayal of a beloved princess. 

Benji blinks. Shakes his head, his tongue darting along his lips. “He called you home to fight. Humfrey Bracken’s forgotten daughter—useful at long last.” 

Rage coils in his tone. Instinct makes your muscles tense. 

Nothing is more dangerous than this, your thoughts whisper, a Blackwood and a Bracken, toe-to-toe. 

There’s nothing dangerous about the way Benji’s looking at you, though. His gaze soft and tender, calloused hands clenched at his sides—holding himself back, you realize. Not from fighting, but from reaching out to touch something he’s not certain is his. 

“Will you do it?” Benji asks, hesitant. “Will you fight for the pretender?” 

I don’t want to, you think. 

It’s your brother's words that slip past your lips. “I have no choice. My blood runs gold, Benji—a Bracken, through-and-through.” 

His brow furrows. Then a hand shifts to the sheath at his hip, sliding his dagger free. “Give me your hand,” he orders, nodding to where they hang at your sides. 

You remember his vow to your brother—that he would let no harm befall you. Even without it, you would’ve trusted him. Wholly. Unconditionally. 

You lift your hand and, without hesitation, he grips it on his own, pinning the steel tip of his dagger against your palm. 

You hiss—hand stinging as the blade drags along your flesh, leaving a thin, shallow cut. 

“You’ve always had one foot on either side of the boundary,” Benji starts, his words rushed. Carelessly tossing the dagger to the ground, he grabs your wrist tightly, lifting your palm up towards your own face. “But your blood,” he tells you, his eyes desperate, “has always run red.” 

It drips down your wrist—a rivulet of crimson, spilling between his knuckles as he refuses to let go. Red as the color of his tunic—as the specks of blood dried on his own throat, drawn by your brother's sword. 

Gold on your back. Red in your veins. 

A Bracken by name, but… 

“It’s not too late,” Benji says, his words slow and cautious, still cradling your hand in his. “You can come back to Raventree.” Thunder rumbles. Storm-cloud eyes fall to your lips. “You can come home.” 

You think of Amos. Of your brother. You’re home now, he had said, a shadow of love in his eyes, Be glad for it. 

But home was ancient stone, crawling with moss. Home was the deep, muddy moat that you always threatened to push Benji into when he was getting on your nerves. Home was Black Aly’s voice, scolding you whenever your arms were still too weak to string a bow. 

Home was a dead weirwood tree and a boy with stormy eyes. 

But duty… 

That was something else entirely. 

Closing your hand around Benji’s, your chest fills with water as the last of the ice melts. Hard steel turns impossibly soft, your feet shuffling until your body is flush against his—still-entwined hands pinned between your chest, trapped between fabrics of gold and red. 

Benji leans down, his forehead pressing against yours. There’s nothing dangerous about him. Nothing unpredictable. 

You know him—from the crook in his nose to the scar above his lip. From the lull of his voice to the weight of his steps. His quick temper and his shy smiles. 

High above, the sky cries out. Thunder booms, lightning cracks. Misty rain turns to a violent downpour. 

And he leans in, oh-so carefully. A trembling breath against slick skin, chapped lips hovering over yours. 

“You can come home,” Benji whispers, repeating himself. You can’t think—can’t breathe, as he utters against your mouth, “Let me take you home.” 

And he kisses you. A tender, desperate kiss—the kind that drives your lips apart with the sheer force of it. He tugs his hand from yours, slips it out from between your bodies and brings it to rest on the back of your neck, tangling his fingers in damp, rain-soaked hair. 

Restraint is no more than a breath in the wind. Desire curls in your stomach. Your pulse pounds in your veins, rich with red red red. 

But then there’s your brother’s voice in your head: I don’t trust him. 

And you know what he meant was: You’re my sister—my blood, red or gold—and I’m worried about you. 

You pull away, breathless and broken, one half of your heart lying on either side of the boundary stones resting miles and miles from here. 

Lips still close enough to brush against yours, Benji pants. “Say yes.” The love in his eyes isn’t a shadow. It’s a bright, blinding light. A proud declaration and a howling plea. “Say you’ll come home.” 

You look down—to the sigil embroidered on your tunic, to the still-drying blood on your palm 

An estranged brother and a forbidden lover. 

And you. 

The bridge to a great chasm. 

The futile remedy to centuries of enmity. 

You take a step back—reaching inside of yourself, pulling shriveled vines up your throat, knowing that the words hammering in your chest will be anything but delicate. That they’ll taste of rot in your mouth. 

“I’m not sure I have a home, Benjicot.” Pain echoes across his face, each syllable a rusted dagger in his heart. Another step back, grabbing your bow from where it laid in the mud, abandoned what feels like a millennia ago. “Not anymore.” 

When you turn to leave, thunder crashing overhead and a sob caught in your throat, you go alone.

The heir to Raventree Hall doesn’t dare to follow. 

You walk in silence, your bow hanging at your side. Behind you, there are no snapping twigs and no low, careless whistling. There’s only rain and—

A branch creaks overhead, halting your steps. Your bow is drawn in a single breath, the cut on your palm stinging as you  slide an arrow from the quiver slung over your shoulder, readying to shoot. You look up, drops of rain splattering against your cheeks as you scan the trees. 

There. 

Perched on a wet, mossy limb was a pair of beady eyes staring down at you. A raven, letting out a low, curious croak. 

A single shot and you could go back to camp. 

A single shot, you tell yourself, and your blood might finally run gold. 

A breath—and then the bow string goes slack. 

You slip the arrow back into the quiver.

a/n - does any of this even make sense? idk, you tell me lmao. overall, just wanted to play around with capturing the confusion that might ensue for a reader who has no clue where their loyalties lie anymore, lost in who they are and who they think they're meant to be--anyways, hopefully the ending makes sense to you because it makes sense in my brain

anyways

benji tag list (so sorry if I missed you!) - @jacaerysgf @lenasvoid @valdezthg @xzydra11 @snixx2088 @lianna75 @kennafild @ghostinvenus @heystaystray @but-i-write-so-i-must-count @a-song-for-ages

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

The Way I Loved You

Luke Castellan x demeter!Reader

Summary: "But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain / And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name / So in love that you act insane"

Warnings: angst, possessiveness, jealousy, toxic relationship, fluff ending

Wordcount: 3.3K

Masterlist

A/N A. Yes, it's another Taylor Swift songfic and B. Four fics in five days, I've been cooking

And you were wild and crazy / Just so frustrating, intoxicating, complicated

Ever since Y/N met Luke Castellan, he drove her insane. When they were kids, 13 and 14 respectively, they hated each other. She hated the way he came in and immediately started bossing the campers around. Despite being so young she was the counselor for the Demeter cabin. Her big sister—her only sibling at the time—had tragically died on her way to camp that summer. But instead of mourning the always kind and radiant daughter of Demeter, they mourned the daughter of Zeus no one had ever met. And seeing the way the new boy seemed to soak up the attention made her hate him.

By the time she was 15 they still hated each other but he was all she had. They had both been at camp so long, and lost so many of their siblings and friends, both could hardly remember life without the other. But they still argued like children. So whenever they had bickered so much that Chiron or Mr. D got tired of it, they’d send them to do a chore together. They spent long hours cleaning the showers, stables, infirmary, doing practically every undesirable chore together that they finally started to talk.

Luke got to know her and understand why she hated him. And she had learned about his life and gained sympathy for him.

Soon enough those talks became makeout sessions. They stopped talking but at least they couldn’t fight if their lips were occupied. It was like they were addicted to each other.

Eventually they slid into dating. When they weren’t talking it was great. But someone would inevitably say or do something that made the other mad.

~

“Why were you flirting with him?” Luke demanded, slamming the door of the Demeter cabin.

“What are you talking about? I was training him. You know? Doing my job!”

“It wasn’t just training and you know it.”

“Gods you’re so insecure and possessive.”

“You’re the one who begged me to commit to you. Of course I’m gonna worry about my fucking girlfriend.”

“I did not beg you.”

“Yes you did. You’re the insecure one. You just needed to put a label on it and screw everything up.”

~

“You were supposed to meet me by the lake an hour ago!” Y/N stormed into the room.

“Oh crap. I’m so sorry babe,” he apologized. Trying to kiss her and make it go away.

“You do this all the time. I’m never a priority to you!”

“You’re literally my girlfriend. I don’t know what else you want.”

“I’m only your girlfriend because you didn’t want me to date anyone else!”

~

“Why are you packing?” Luke asked.

“You know my cousin who goes to Syracuse? She invited me up for the weekend.”

“So what? You can go party with frat guys?”

“No, so I can party with girls,” she tried to lighten the mood.

But Luke wasn’t consoled.“I don’t want you going to some college and getting drunk.”

“Why?”

“Because so many things can happen. You could get drugged and taken advantage of. You could get attacked. What are you gonna do if a cyclops sniffs you out but you’re too drunk to realize?”

“You’re not actually worried about that you just don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you. It’s them I don’t trust.”

“It takes two to tango.”

“Again, you could get roofied.”

“Urgh Luke you’re not listening to me!”

~

They had plenty of arguments. So much so that the Hermes and Demeter campers had a silent agreement to go to each other’s cabins whenever their counselors started arguing.

But toxic relationships can’t go on forever.

It was Y/N’s birthday. She was turning 18. Collectively Camp Half-Blood made a big deal about birthdays considering that each one literally signified a triumph over death. But Luke couldn’t even be bothered to spend the day with her. When she woke up in his bed, he was already up and putting on his training gear. “‘Morning,” she greeted softly. She tried not to seem too excited about her birthday but all she wanted in that moment was for him to say “happy birthday.”

“Hey,” he smiled. “I'm gonna go train with some of the other campers. The new kids have been excited to watch me fight so…” he said smugly, already halfway out the door. “Just uh make the bed when you leave? Thanks.”

She was left disappointed. Like she always was except for when they were together but not talking.

But almost as soon as she stepped outside she was greeted with several wishes for a good birthday. She nearly cried when she got back to her cabin and found her bunk decorated, small gifts left on her bed from her friends and siblings.

By lunch practically the whole camp had wished her a happy birthday and she was feeling a bit better. She was reading a book she got as a gift, sitting alone at the Demeter table while she ate. Laughter invaded the dining pavilion and she watched as Luke entered along with the campers he had been training. He spotted her, coming over to her table but she didn’t even look up at him.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked. No response. “Why are you mad?” Still no response. After a few beats of silence he tried to change the subject. “So what are you reading?” She just held the book up so he could read the title. “Ah. Where’d you get that?”

By now the other campers had grabbed their food and were walking past the Demeter table. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” they each wished as they passed by. She smiled up at each of them as they passed. She only spared a glance at Luke to witness the expression on his face.

“Are-are you mad because you think I forgot your birthday? Of course I didn’t forget your birthday, babe. I’m just uh… saving my surprise for after dinner.”

“Sure,” was all she said, flipping the page.

“No, no,” Luke insisted, coming around to the other side of the table. He straddled the bench, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her close. As he did so he pressed a kiss against her cheek because she was still focused on her book. “You’re gonna love your gift. I swear.”

Luke spent the rest of the afternoon running around trying to put together a surprise. He got Mr. D to summon a small cake. Fortunately Mr. D was the one person in camp that didn’t know or care that it was Y/N’s birthday so he didn’t ask questions. As for the gift, Luke was lost. Anything in the camp store she’d immediately be able to tell wasn’t something he had thought about and anything he already owned she’d recognize as his.

So he went out to the meadow, picking flowers. She was the daughter of Demeter, of course she liked flowers.

So by the time dinner finished, Luke was pretty proud of what he had pieced together despite his limited resources. After everyone had left the dining pavilion, he brought Y/N to the docks where he proudly displayed his hard work. Except when he handed her the flowers, she looked disappointed. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I know you forgot my birthday. That’s fine. Whatever,” she sniffed passive aggressively. “But you gave me probably the most cop out gift you could think of.”

“What do you mean? You love flowers.”

By now the tears were freely flowing from her eyes. “You know I hate cut flowers because they just die. You could have dug a few up, preserved their roots and repotted them.”

“Okay fine, I’ll plant them.”

But she shook her head. “No, it’s too late.”

“Then I’ll get new flowers.”

“No, not about flowers. It’s too late for us.”

His heart sunk. “What?”

“Luke, I think we should break up.”

“Over a damn gift? Y/N, I’m sorry. I know I dropped the ball but the wrong gift isn’t something you break up over.”

“It’s not about the gift!” she cried. “Luke, we don’t know each other. We’re strangers who are together because it’s convenient. The gift just proves you only know the basics. We’ve been together for two years. Known each other for five. You should know I don’t like cut flowers.”

“So we need to reconnect? We can work through this. Please Y/N, don’t do anything rash.”

She just shook her head again. “You’re not getting it. It’s not even just that we don’t know each other. We can’t talk for more than five minutes before fighting. We’re toxic, Luke.”

“But we’re…”

“Just because we’re all each other has doesn’t mean we’re good together.”

“Y/N, don’t do this. Please.” By now even Luke had a few tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Luke. But this is better for both of us.” With that, she walked away from him for the last time.

~~

He can't see the smile I'm faking / And my heart's not breaking / 'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all

Getting over Luke was the hardest thing she ever had to do. She spent several days crying to her younger sister, Katie. She tried to help her sister but the younger girl couldn’t relate, making Y/N just feel more alone. But then a new Athena camper joined and things got better.

Chiron had basically assigned Y/N to show Ben the ropes around camp. He felt bad for the poor girl. No one liked watching her or Luke sulk around camp.

“Ben, I’d like you to meet Y/N. She’s one of our most senior campers and counselor of the Demeter cabin.”

She smiled at the new boy. “Hi. Do you know what cabin you’ll be in yet?”

“Yeah, uh Athena. She claimed me when the satyrs found me,” he answered, already finding himself interested. Chiron tried to hide his smirk realizing the boy’s quickly growing feelings.

“Well you’re one of the lucky ones.”

“I’ve heard.”

“Y/N,” Chiron interrupted, “why don’t you show Ben around? Let him know how we do things around here.”

“Uh, sure. C’mon I’ll give you a tour.” As they went around camp, Ben asked her all sorts of things about herself. Favorite color, favorite flower, who her friends were, what they were like, what she liked to eat and more. All the things Luke should have known.

As they kept going through camp, Ben knew he was already falling for her. And not just because Chiron had talked her up so much as they had approached the daughter of Demeter. He thought she was pretty and smart. And she was so kind to him. Plus, everyone around camp seemed to love her.

Ben’s very apparent interest was much to the chagrin of Luke. He had spent the first couple days of his breakup pretending like everything was alright. An act that proved very unpopular with the rest of camp. But the lonely nights got to him and his siblings could hear quiet sobs and sniffles in the night. But almost as soon as he started showing remorse, this new guy showed up and all of a sudden there was a buzz around camp about the new guy who would replace him.

The excited gossip about his ex and the new boy had literally started from day one. He saw them going through the camp tour a few times that day. After all, Camp Half-Blood is big. And Luke just happens to have to go to the same areas his ex does at the same time. But every time he spotted them he couldn’t help but glare at the new Athena cabin member. Every time he sent her a smile or made her laugh, Luke curled his fist impossibly tighter. His fists became almost perpetually white as the blossoming romance grew over time.

As for Y/N, she was finally healing. Not happy, but healing and Ben was helping with that as time went on and they got closer. He was perfect. Sweet, smart, a gentleman. But he wasn’t Luke.

They spent many nights getting to know each other. He knew her birthday, all her favorites, and made an effort with all her friends. Hell he even made an effort with Luke—an effort the Hermes boy did not appreciate—because he knew Luke was still important to Y/N. When he asked her out he did so with a pot of her favorite flowers which he had Argus help him get.

He knocked on the door of the Demeter cabin which was opened by Katie. “Hey Katie,” Ben greeted Y/N’s favorite younger sister. “Is Y/N home?”

“Yeah, she is.” The young girl called for her and soon enough the object of Ben’s affection was at the door.

“Hey Ben. What’s up?” she asked.

“I just wanted to give you this,” he smiled, handing her the beautifully potted flower. “I know I’m no demigod child of the plant goddess but…”

“No it’s great,” she smiled at him. But her heart was sinking. It wasn’t because of the gift, the gift was perfect actually. But if Luke had been the one to give it to her, her heart would be soaring. “Thank you.”

“And I just wanted to ask you if you uh- wanted to have dinner with me tonight?” he nervously asked.

“Oh well I’d love to,” she smiled. “But uh we can’t table hop at dinner. It’s against the rules,” she laughed nervously, hoping that would be enough to dissuade him.

“That’s not a problem. I got permission from Chiron to let us have dinner together. We just have to be out of the dining pavilion before everyone else gets there at 7.”

Dread kept filling her. She was in too deep now. And he had asked Chiron, she couldn’t just shoot him down. “Well then I’ll see you at 6 then?”

The biggest smile broke over his face. “See you then.”

The entire time at dinner, Y/N wanted to cry. This is not what she wanted. Ben was not what she wanted. But she kept forcing a happy face, hoping that if she could convince Ben she liked him too, she could convince herself.

When he brought her out to the meadow and kissed her, she wanted to dig herself into the ground and die. It was a sweet kiss but it just felt wrong… like there was no chemistry or passion between them.

She was so frustrated with herself. As she looked into Ben’s eyes she wondered why she couldn’t just love him back. Here was this incredibly caring guy who was more than willing to give her everything she was asking for but she just didn’t feel anything.

~~

But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain

For Luke, seeing Y/N with Ben made a weird dread fill his chest. To him it wasn’t fair that she just got to move on when she was the one that broke up with him. She should be begging for him back right now. And he hated to admit it but he’d take her back in a heartbeat right now.

So when he found her crying on the beach late one night, he didn’t know what to think. But she was still all he had so he approached. “Hey,” he tried to catch her attention gently.

She looked up at him, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes. “Oh, hey Luke,” she tried to play off her tears. “What are you doing here?”

“Came here to think and then I saw you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” She gave a strained smile that did nothing to hide the puffiness of her eyes or blotchy skin.

It pained Luke to see her like this. Even more so when he knew he was the cause of her tears at one point. “Are you sure?” he asked, sitting next to her but maintaining her space. “We can talk. I promise it’ll just be a friendly conversation.”

She let out the weakest laugh he had ever heard. “I’m fine. You wouldn’t wanna hear about it anyway,” she dismissed even though Luke was the only person she wanted to talk to. He was the only person who could maybe possibly understand. Her siblings were too young and the only other camper their age was Ben.

“Try me,” Luke challenged, scooting the slightest bit closer.

She looked at him for a while before reluctantly speaking. “It’s Ben. I just… he’s such a great guy. He’s nice, and sweet, and such a gentleman but he’s just not…”

“Just not what?” Luke asked a little eagerly. From a distance she had looked blissfully happy and everyone spoke about how well Ben treated her. But hearing that his ex-girlfriend had a problem with the guy she was dating? Luke was a little too eager to hear about that.

“He’s not you!” She finally admitted. She didn’t miss the way Luke seemed to brighten. “He does nice things for me and he’s so sweet and into me but I’m just feeling nothing at all. It’s like there’s no passion between us.”

“Well you were right. We were toxic but we also had a lot of passion,” Luke tried to lighten the mood. “Look, I don’t mean to sweep in on your most vulnerable moment but I’ve been thinking since the breakup and this is the first time you’ve even looked at me so. I know I treated you like shit and was so possessive. I’m ready to actually commit to you and be your boyfriend instead of just slipping into it because we were already making out when we were younger. I want to give you everything the old me couldn’t or wouldn’t because watching you slip through my fingers was the most painful thing I've ever done. Besides, with more effort I think we could make this work because you don’t fight like we did unless you’re in love. People who don’t love each other just let it fade. They don’t fight.”

She looked like she was in severe pain. “Gods, why couldn’t you have said this three months ago?” Her lips were immediately on his. Luke was a little taken aback but kissed her back, glad to have her in his arms once again.

A few moments later they were promising each other eternity with all the passion in the world. “Forever?” he asked through labored breaths, his fingers intertwined with her hair.

“Forever,” she agreed.

The next day Luke was waiting anxiously in the Hermes cabin. Y/N was ending things with Ben but he was still nervous. What if she decided she wanted to stick with the safer option? He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it if she went back to him after last night.

His thoughts were only quieted when the door opened and he found her standing there. He stood up anxiously but hesitated, still slightly wary that she’d tell him she changed her mind. But she walked towards him, immediately falling into his arms. “Forever?” he asked.

“Forever,” she agreed.

Relieved, Luke pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Forever,” he confirmed for himself.

Masterlist

[secondhand-snow]

a body of impulses

chapter 2: feeling like unraveling

lukas matsson x f!roy! reader (succession)

★ chapter 1 ★ | ★chapter 3★

wc: 9.0k+

warnings: super dysfunctional family, fluff first then angst, roman roy as his own warning, season 3 finale as its own warning, mentions of manipulation, drinking, smut, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, corruption kink (for real this time), dick pics, mention of phone sex, making out, dry humping/grinding, biting, pussyjobs, cum play/eating, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), aftercare, no use of y/n

summary: Lukas is amazing. He's tender, he's deviant, he's everything for you. But you're still worried, your family has never seen a beautiful thing that they haven't wanted to break.

author's note: chapter 2 is here, thank you for all the love on chapter 1! i hope you love it as much as i loved writing it ♡ be warned that this is heavy on the plot of episodes 3.08 and 3.09, so if you haven't watched the full show you may get a bit lost. please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!

You have a tendency to get anxious when things are good for too long. A few weeks without a family fight, a month without a scandal, half a year without Kendall relapsing; nice things usually end in flames in your family. They make you superstitious, always looking around the corner for something to jump out and fuck everything up. So, when Lukas is good, you get scared. You expect some kind of backhand. A threat of blackmail, a tweet exposing your promiscuity, a package of anthrax at your door. 

It never comes.

He calls you every night, your timezone, not his. Listens to you talk about your day and doesn’t press when you can’t give him details on the company. He loves to send you pictures, just of him doing the most mundane things. Lukas on a Zoom meeting, Lukas working out, Lukas eating dinner. Together, you fall into something almost domestic. It’s still a secret. You don’t open his messages in public, stay far away from any conversations about him at work that could lead a blush to your face. But when has anything in your life been completely honest?

He’s been begging for a while now to fly you out to Sweden. You know it’s a risk you shouldn’t take at the moment, but you entertain him anyway. When you ask why he wants to see you so badly, he says he misses you. Then he says he wants to fuck you on his desk.

 That almost convinces you, and you’re about to start packing when a roadblock emerges. Your dad asks you to come with him and your siblings to Italy, for Caroline’s wedding. You hadn’t been planning on going, she wasn’t your mom and you didn’t have much of a relationship with her. In fact, you actually thought she secretly hated you, something to do with how quickly Logan married your mom after their divorce. Regardless, you didn’t want to go to the wedding. But when Logan Roy calls, you come. Always.

So the bags were repacked and you found yourself on a different private jet with your siblings, once again at the mercy of your family.

“She’s probably in sexual thrall to him. He’s driving her wild with his sugar dick.” Siobhan spoke matter of factly, completely oblivious to how absurd her words sounded. Still, it wasn’t the strangest conversation of hers you’d walked in on. “So there’s nothing we can do.”

 Roman was perched across the aisle from Tom and Shiv, sitting oddly in his seat, running his hand through his hair while he spoke. “All right, fine. Let him kill her for her emeralds and… screw us out of the fucking firm. See if I care.”

“Mommy issues?” You spoke up, setting your bag down on a free seat before moving to lean over the back of Shiv’s chair, kneeling on the seat behind it.

“Always. I didn’t know you were coming?” Rome turns to address you, eyebrows coming together in question.

“Dad drafted me. I think he just wants to terrorize Caroline with my presence.”

“I think you torment her enough by just existing. She doesn’t get to be the perfect mother of Logan Roy’s prodigal children.” Shiv pitched in, finally acknowledging your presence with a little smile.

“I don’t think I’m even invited to all the events. He’s just gonna have me working on the GoJo deal the whole time.”

“Oh! About the deal, I was talking to Karl and Frank-” Tom is addressing Roman more than you, but still gives you the courtesy of eye contact before your brother cuts him off. 

“Yeah, no, you’re not really a part of that. Either of you, actually.” Rome nods his head to the couple, a smirk on his face charged by his current power trip.

“Well, I am.” Shiv interjects, annoyed.

“Well, I can’t fire you yet Shiv, because I’m still a little bit scared of you. But, my thinking is, when I take over, I’m gonna put you in the office next to mine and you’re gonna be my sexy secretary.” You just shake your head at Roman’s comment while he turns to head back to his seat. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Siobhan is more irritated than really upset, going back to her phone as Roman leaves the conversation.

“I dunno. We’re working on it.” He taps the back on his legs in a rhythm before sitting down. “Ongoing process.”

You address Tom, seeing the confusion in his eyes that people tend to get when talking to your brother. “We’re just working on outlining terms. Honestly, Gerri would be better to ask for specifics. I don’t know how much Dad wants me to say.”

Tom just nods in thanks, which you return with a small smile before heading to your seat. You’re across the aisle from Roman, who’s already curled up and ready to nap on the flight. Taking out your phone, you see a new message from Lukas, covertly labeled in your phone with just an “L.” You turn the screen away from your company, making sure to not catch the reflection in the window as you open his text.

Stockholm is a 4 hour flight to Italy. 

Is it? I’ll be in the air for at least 10 hours.

10 hours without talking to you?

I think you can manage it.

I don’t know about Italy. I can’t be held responsible for what I do when I’m in the same country as you.

It’s a risk. 

Will there be a reward?

…I’ll text you when we land.

He sends a picture of himself doing a kissing face. You send a heart emoji in response, hiding your face with your hand to conceal your smile. 

It turns out that you were invited to a few events of Lady Caroline’s wedding. Not the ceremony, of course, but at least you were allowed to attend the receptions leading up to it. You weren’t going to be cooped up in a hotel room all weekend, signing documents and having Facetime sex with your not-boyfriend. In fact, you ended up at one of these events just a little after your arrival, a garden party full of snobby aristocrats and expensive champagne. It’s too hot out for your liking, you're already sweating in your semi-formal sundress and downing your second glass of cold bubbly. 

You end up with Shiv, partially blocked from the sun by the shadow of her hat, quietly snickering at her and Tom’s jokes about a clueless cousin Greg. It’s surprisingly calm for one of your family gatherings, no shouting or challenging or worse. The tranquility snaps like a twig with a ding on your phones.

“Uh- Matsson…” Shiv speaks first, the two of you pulling out your phones simultaneously, her angling her screen to share it with Tom. A message from Karolina leads you to Matsson’s twitter page, and his latest tweet. It’s a goofy gif of his face with a Snapchat filter on it, the text reading ‘Going to Macao, feeling lucky.” You’re half excited, half alarmed. You don’t really know if you should believe it at first but, against your better judgment, you hope it’s true. Hope he’s just an hour or two from you, the closest he’s been in weeks.

 “What? Going to Macao? Feeling lucky?” Tom squints against the sun to see the Tweet before pulling out his own phone. “The fuck is that?”

“You get this thing from Karolina? It’s off the radar and now this? Is this- is it a move?” Gerri’s entrance is quick, followed closely behind by Roman. You open your mouth and close it again, not sure if your words will betray your duplicity.

“It, um, it could be…could be nothing, you know? Fucking social media fireworks!” Roman’s hand is threaded through his hair, the silver watch on his wrist glinting in the light.

“‘Going to Macao, feeling lucky.’” Gerri repeats the four words, she’s as flabbergasted as everyone in this little Waystar circle. Business has once again interfered with pleasure. “Is he trying to boost his price?”

“Is he just rocking the boat?” Shiv’s voice is unsure, wavering from her usual monotone state. “Or trying to blow up the deal? I mean, has he got good subscriber numbers coming in?”

“Maybe he’s just going to Macao and he’s feeling lucky.” Tom chimes in as Rome steps away from the group, phone pressed to his ear in a call you can’t fully hear.

“I mean, yeah… It’s not out of his archetype to post something like this.” You shrug, not sure what to contribute that hasn’t already been said. 

Roman finishes his call, turning back to you to speak. “I don’t know, it’s like, his thing. He’s a- a trickster.”

“Okay. Well, sounds cool. Is he gonna, like, steal our watches and fucking saw the deal in half?” Shiv’s getting upset, you know she likes control and she’s too far removed from this deal to do anything about Matsson’s stunts. 

“Maybe!”

“You’re supposed to be inside this Rome!”

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. Mattson’s not stupid, he wouldn’t deliberty fuck this deal and announce it to the world on Twitter.” You’re trying to reason with your siblings, though it’s not really working. Roman mostly ignores you, Siobhan rolls her eyes. Atleast Gerri and Tom look somewhat appreciative for your input. 

“I am inside, Leave it.” 

You’re done with the dialogue, done with being the peacemaker and getting stepped over by your narcissistic siblings. You throw your hands up, phone held in one and the other in a flat palm to signify your retreat before you walk away from the cluster. You hear Greg say something behind you but don’t bother to answer him, instead moving to find a quiet place far away from your siblings.

You end up in a corner somewhere, mostly blocked by trees and bushes, a little cubby hole you hoped was private enough to not be listened in on. Your fingers nimbly click through the apps on your phone, pausing briefly before pressing the call button on Lukas’s contact. It rings once, twice. Then, an answer.

“When are you coming over? Should I send you a helicopter?”

“Macao?” Your voice is higher than normal, laced in shock and thrill.

“Closer than we’ve been in weeks.” The smile is apparent in his voice, he’s pleased with himself, you hate it. And love it.

“You’re fucking insane. I didn’t think you were serious!” 

“Yeah, I am. I’ll send my jet over.”

“Oh my God, I still cannot believe you. I can’t- my family is on high alert after your little rogue Tweet.” You laugh, not really mad at him, just eager and amazed.

“Oh come on, that was nothing.”

“It was a play to keep them on guard and you know it.”

“Well, partially. It’s for the numbers too. And for your attention.”

“It’s so hard to be away from you when you do shit like this…”

“Oh yeah? You miss me?” It’s a taunt, he knows the truth even if you deny it. So, you’re honest.

“You know I do.”

“Mmm… I miss you too. Keep thinking about what I’ll do when I see you again.”

“Lukas… I’m in public…” You can’t help but glance around, be sure you’re alone when he starts talking like this. His plan is already so clear to you.

“So you don’t want me to tell you about all the ways I’ll fuck you?”

“... Don’t do this to me now.”

“It’ll be just us in this house. I’ll take you wherever I want to. You can scream as loud as you want, don’t have to be worried about someone hearing.” His voice drops, there’s a small rustling on the phone. His words shoot straight to your core, a sensation beginning to form there.

“I’m at a fucking wedding party and you’re getting me turned on. You’re evil.”

“You love it.” You pause a moment, taking a deep breath and steeling yourself before responding. 

“I’ll call you tonight. Please be careful.”

He chuckles.“I will.”

When you hang up, your text thread with Lukas is immediately graced with a photo of his dick, hard and gripped tightly in his fist. It makes you inhale sharply, curse under your breath at the growing need between your thighs. You text him back, simply writing “Fuck you.” before clicking your phone off. It takes you a few minutes of breathing exercises, but you’re able to calm your desire and soothe the blush in your cheeks before returning to the party.

Nobody asks where you went, nobody even really cared that you were gone. You can blame it on Connor’s show of making a proposal, or Matsson’s antics occupying everyone’s minds, but this is how it always is with you. The good child. The innocent daughter. Forever right where she needs to be, never in anyone’s way, constantly willing to help. You disappear when you aren’t wanted, you emerge only when you’re useful. The perfect loyalist, somehow being turned to a deserter.

Lukas leaves Monaco before you can sneak away to see him. You know it’s for the better, but it’s still a disappointment. You resign to finish the family trip and visit Sweden as soon as you get home to New York, going along with the planned events, a false smile plastered on your face. It’s during Caroline’s bachelorette in Cortona when your plans change. You were nursing a glass of wine, silencing your discontent at the rooftop bar when Gerri approached you.

She dragged you around to speak with Roman, revealing that your Dad had once again put you on babysitting duty. Logan wanted Rome to go talk to Mattson at his house in Switzerland, and wanted you to keep him in line. He couldn’t trust Roman to not fuck the deal, but he didn’t want you to speak to Mattson alone. So, you were recruited to accompany Rome. Speak just enough to stop him from saying something stupid, but not enough to draw attention. It was a game you were good at, one you had been practicing since youth. You were loyal to a fault, and Logan always used it to his advantage. 

Lukas is ecstatic when you tell him you’re coming. Less so when he learns Roman is accompanying you, but still thrilled. You ask him for discretion, first nicely and then sternly. You can’t afford to make your relationship, whatever it is, public. He knows this too, knows what your family would do if they found out, but can’t help teasing. It’s only a day after Logan’s request that you board a helicopter, headed to Lake Maggiore. Headed to Lukas.

Roman is oddly quiet on the flight, constantly on his phone or looking out the window, eyes blank. You know him well enough to see the anxiety clouding his mind, feel the nervous energy radiating off his body. You reach over to him and hold his hand. He looks annoyed. He doesn’t drop it. You squeeze his fingers gently, he returns the motion, lets you quietly comfort him until you land.

 Lake Maggiore is beautiful, surrounded by the Alps and lush vegetation, villas and lake homes dotting the shores of the water. You move straight from the helicopter to a boat, which immediately takes off at high speeds, skating over the surface of the lake. The wind fucks up your hair, blows up the skirt of your sundress, almost makes you loose your sunglasses. When you finally dock, you quickly pull out your phone, using it as a mirror to fix your smudged makeup and windswept hair before your host arrives. Roman gives you a weird look, silently judging you for putting effort into your appearance. As if he doesn’t spend hours in front of the mirror every morning styling his hair to look perfectly imperfect. 

When Lukas’s frame finally emerges from the hedges of his property, you have to bite your lower lip to hide your smile. He’s so himself, wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, not bothering with real shoes, just a pair of casual slip-ons. It almost hurts to see him and not be able to immediately kiss him. Jesus, your inner monologue sounds like something from a cheesy rom-com. You feel so love-struck, it makes you crinkle your nose in embarrassment. 

The boat is tied up to the dock now, Roman perched on the side trying to make it onto solid land. The waves rock the vehicle back and forth, knocking him off balance and ruining his attempt at disembarking. 

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” Lukas has one hand in his pocket, the other reached out to Rome, close enough for him to grab. If he wanted to. “Come on, I’ll hold your hand.”

“Piss off.” Roman swats his hand away, finally moving off the boat with a small jump. You move, taking his place on the edge of the boat. It’s a bit unsteady, but you manage getting on to the dock in just a few seconds. You shoot a smug smile at Roman before following the two of them up some steps, away from the water and onto Lukas’s yard.

“It’s nice to see you again, man.” Roman speaks first, breaking the silence that had fallen over you three.

“Yeah, yeah. Long time.” Lukas has his usual posture, slightly hunched and lanky, with his hands in his pockets nonchalantly. 

“This is an amazing place!” Rome looks around, you continue to follow him and Lukas through the lawn, letting them lead you as you observe.

“Yeah...”

“No?”

“I don’t know, it kind of freaks me out, to be honest.” 

“Oh, yeah?”

“When I got it, I wanted everything to be perfect.” You climb a few steps, the group arriving at an outdoor pool area, lined with shrubs and facing the lake. “Now I’m sleeping on a camping mat until I get a deep dive on the best mattress in the world. It’s great- it’s great. I’m just not feeling great. I mean… I’m fine… Well, but, not really.”

You frown at his words. You want to reach out, hold his hand, touch his back, do something to comfort him. But it would be too obvious, too impulsive. Instead you nod sympathetically, catching his gaze for a moment.

“Maybe let’s leave the little feeley-feelings out of it. Cause I’m gonna give you nothing. Nothing!” Roman’s half joking. He hates emotions, tries to diffuse bad ones with humor, even if it feels inappropriate.

“Roman.” Your tone is a warning, pushing your sunglasses back on your head to give him a glare before turning to Lukas. “I get it. You want the best, but you don’t realize how boring perfection is when you always have it.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Success.. It doesn’t interest me anymore. It’s too easy. It’s fucking… anyone can do it. Analysis plus capital plus execution. But failure… that’s a secret.” Lukas is looking at you like you’re the only person in the world when he speaks. Sometimes he thinks you can see into his soul, you somehow know him better than anyone. He takes his sunglasses off, using the collar of his shirt to hold them. His blue eyes look directly into yours.“What are you worst at?”

“Well… I… am never telling you any of my weaknesses. Ever. Never, ever, ever.” Roman breaks into the conversation again, disrupts the eye contact between you two. “And I won’t let her tell you any either. Stuff a sock in her mouth, a ball gag or something.”

“That’s smart.”

“I know, I am smart.”

“Cause I ream people. Juice em like oranges. I get way too into people, and they disappoint me.” He looks at Roman when he says that, but you can’t help but take his words as a warning. Things moved fast between you and Lukas, you’ve barely known him for a few weeks and were already opening your heart to him. Letting him into your mind, letting him rearrange the furniture there like he owns it. “Hey, I’m thinking of doing like a- quarterly up and outs at the company.”

“Oh, yeah. Firing people is like, 85% of why I get up in the morning.” Roman shrugs when he talks, moving to take his sunglasses off and hold them in his hand. “But, uh.. I do want to ask you about that tweet, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh the…” Lukas laughs, looks at you, back to Roman. He makes a face, sticking out his tongue to mimic the Snapchat filter on his tweet. “That one.”

“Yeah. Seriously, yes. You got like, big shit coming your way?” Rome uses his free hand to run his fingers through his hair.

“...Are you- are you asking me for material nonpublic information?” Lukas’s grin is lopsided, he’s testing the two of you, seeing how far you’re really going to go.

“Maybe. Were you trying to get your share price up by tweeting unverifiable information outside of normal disclosure channels?” You cut in, raising your eyebrows at him, tilting your head in a way a little too close to flirting. Roman smiles at that, watches you exercise your knowledge like a proud father.

Lukas’s voice is mocking, a fake sad cartoon tone coming over it. “No, you’re not allowed to do that.” He moves his hands to his eyes, pretending to wipe his tears. “So mean.”

“Do you want this deal? Are you into it… like, at all?” Roman asks next. You’ve moved a bit from your area at the pool, following Matsson as he slowly circles the water. 

“Yeah, I am. I’m just a little Swedish, you know? I’m.. into equality.” He moves nonchalantly, like this deal isn’t as serious as it is. “I like getting into bed with people, but I also like to share it equally.”

“More of a merge than a takeover.” It isn’t a question, and it isn’t directed at Lukas. You turn to Roman as you say it, verbalizing what you both were thinking. Lukas just hums, doesn’t articulate a response. Even though you all know what it would be. 

“Okay. We’re just… heading to Milan to lock things down with our Dad and the bankers. And the tweet- it just didn’t feel great. If you’re hoping to blow this whole thing up, just tell me, okay?” Roman’s anxiety is back, you can see it in the tense way he’s started to move, in the higher tone of his voice.

“I just want to get myself the best. Of everything.” Lukas looks at you when he says it, darts his tongue out to lick his bottom lip. Roman’s too lost in his own head to notice it, or notice the way your breath catches in your throat. 

“Yeah, I fucking get that. Definlety.” Roman moves to pull out his phone, cursing under his breath when he reads a notification. “I uh- have to take a call really quickly. I’ll be in the boat, it shouldn’t take too long. Okay?” 

“Yeah, I’ll give her a tour.” Lukas shrugs, sounding indifferent. Rome nods at him, then you, and quickly takes off towards the dock, already lifting the phone up to his ear as he walks. 

You watch him leave, round the corner and leave your line of vision before turning to Lukas, face neutral save for a hint of a smile. He’s less composed than you, smiling broadly and staring into your eyes. He walks closer to you, wraps his arm around the small of your back.

“Wanna show me around?” You raise your eyebrows in question, slightly rocking back and forth on your feet. He sighs quietly, nods, and moves to extend an arm for you to hold. 

“There’s really not much to see. Your average rich person house.” You hold his arm, walking with him into the villa as he speaks. 

The interior is nice. Well, you’re sure it cost several million dollars to furnish, but that was the standard you were used to. It’s Italian inspired with a few modern elements. You take note of the high end appliances everywhere you go. A thousand dollar air purifier, a ten thousand dollar toilet, a hundred thousand dollar refrigerator. Lukas really did want the best for himself. The downstairs looks strangely perfect, like there wasn’t really anyone living there. Everything is clean and immaculate, no traces of human life. This trend continues into the upstairs, only stopping when he shows you the primary bedroom. His bedroom.

It’s simply decorated, a bed, desk, dresser. A large TV mounted on the wall across from his bed, nightstands, some artwork on the walls. There are a few large windows on the farthest side of the room, offering a view to the lake. Most things are black, or gray, with a few navy blue accents here and there. You had slipped off your shoes when walking around the house, now you let the fall to the floor from dangling on your finger. Stepping into the room, you walk until you round the bed, seeing a camping sleep matt rolled up and leaning on a wall. The sight brings a little smile to your face before you turn to Lukas’s desk, fingers grazing softly against the wood of it. 

He has a Macbook laying on it, a pair of over-ear headphones sitting next to it. There’s a cup with a few pencils and pens, a box of tissues. It’s not much, but it’s something. Above his desk sit a few wall mounted bookshelves, made of the same wood. The books on them are mostly motivational, shit that he definitely hasn’t read. One thing does catch your eye though, an older coding textbook written in Swedish. It looks worn, the spine cracked and the pages wrinkled. Your fingers move to trace along the row of books, following them until the shelf ends and you meet the wall behind it. 

“I like it. Very you.” You move your gaze back to Lukas, who’s been leaning in the doorway, watching you explore.

“Very me?”

“It’s exactly what I pictured.” You walk up to him as he steps inside, right at the foot of the bed, just a few inches apart. “Have you really been sleeping on a mat on the floor?”

“Yeah…” You wrap your hands around the back of his neck as his sentence trails off and he moves to grab your hips, closing the distance between you.

“Lukas, just sleep on the mattress. Your back is gonna get all fucked up.”

“Probably. I just- I don’t trust it. I want something I know is good, you know?”  His reasoning makes you roll your eyes.

“It’s better than a camping mat.”

“Hey- that’s the best camping mat money can buy.”

Your hand moves to cup his face, bringing him to you and planting a light kiss on his mouth. He tries to deepen it, follows your face when you pull away, looks like a sad puppy when you deny him.

“So you haven’t used the mattress at all…?” You smirk, quirking your eyebrows teasingly.

“Not yet…” Lukas grins, his eyes traveling from yours to your lips. “Why? Do you wanna help me break it in?”

You don’t answer, just smile, roll your eyes playfully, and move away from him. You turn so your back is facing the bed, and with all the drama you can muster, flop down onto the mattress. It cushions your fall nicely, though you do get left a bit breathless and giggly. Your knees dangle off the side of the bed, feet almost grazing the ground as you kick your legs. 

“It’s really not bad.” You don’t bother raising your head, just direct your words to him knowing he’ll hear. “Not the best, but definitely ‘trustworthy.’” Laughing when he sighs in response, you throw your arms up and stretch theatrically.

You feel a hand on your knee, spreading your thighs wider apart. He slots himself between your legs, moves his hand to your waist, and pulls you quickly to him. The bed is high enough that your hips meet each other roughly, a gasp escaping your mouth at the sudden pressure on your vulva. Lukas is already half hard, and making the most subtle movements to grind you perfectly against his cock. 

“Lukas… Roman is just outside…” You’re already a bit breathless, still allowing him to rub against you as you speak. He leans close to you, tall frame bending at the waist to brush his lips against your ear, still keeping his hips flush to your as he moves. 

“I guess we’ll have to be quick then.” He places a kiss to your jawline, starting a messy trail down your neck. Lukas pauses to nip the slope of your shoulder. “And you’ll have to be quiet.”

He lifts his head, eyes staring straight into yours, and waits for your response. Your lips are already parted, breath coming quick and cheeks flushed with desire. The lust clouds your judgment, as it always seems to do with Lukas. Impulse takes over and, with a hand threaded into his hair, you pull his mouth to yours roughly.  

It’s rushed and powerful. All teeth and tongue, no time for being gentle, no time for romantics. You bite his lip, he groans into your open mouth. Your legs move around his hips, keeping his body close as he ruts against your clothed core. His movements started soft and teasing, but now he’s fully thrusting against you, rough and wanting. It feels hard and hot, has your eyes shutting and your mouth whimpering. You love being close to him like this, hearing his panting in your ear, his lips on your throat, his chest pressed to yours. But it’s not quite enough. 

“Fuck Lukas, I need more.” He pulls his head from his attack on your throat, looks at you with a grin on his face.

“You need more?” You nod, a little frantically with a small hum. “Look at you, asking for things. Tell me what you want.”

You’re a bit hesitant, cheeks still red from the vulgarity of your situation. Your mouth opens and then closes again, biting your lower lip as you try to find the right words. His hand comes to your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks as he forces your eye contact with him. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“I just want to feel you- really feel you.” Honestly, you don’t know exactly what you want. You’re so needy, you can feel how uncomfortably wet you’ve gotten and just need some kind of satisfaction. “You can fuck me.”

He shakes his head, still smiling. “No, not yet. I have plans for that, it’ll be special.” His words are a little shocking, but turn you on even more.

“Please Lukas. I need you.” Your voice is barely a whisper, laced with want. The motion of his hips has stopped and you feel yourself desperately grind yourself against him for some relief. His hands move to your hips to hold you in place, releasing the grip on your chin.

“I’m not taking your virginity in a quickie where I can’t even get you naked. And you need to be able to walk after this.” He moves and pushes your dress up, exposing the lower half of your body. “Here you’ll like this.”

 Your panties are soaked. His gaze moves down and he notices, gives a small chuckle, runs a finger up your clothed slit. It makes you shudder and whine deeply in your throat as a response. Hooking a finger around both sides of your panties, he pulls the fabric off with one quick motion, dropping them to the floor when he’s finished. He moves from between your thighs briefly, causing you to instinctively shut your legs. Lukas pulls down his pants then, just enough to expose his cock, hard and leaking already.

He moves back, uses a hand to gently spread your legs as the other grips the base of his cock. He’s so close, his dick hovering just above your cunt. Your eyes go wide with anticipation, a light gasp escapes from your lips. Then, Lukas moves. His hips angle downwards and, using his hand to guide his cock, he gently rubs his length over your slit. The feeling is immediately intense. It’s wet and strong and burning, and when his tip touches your clit you swear your vision goes white. You really can’t help the moan that escapes you, it’s Lukas that caused it. 

“Shhh… I know, I know. But you don’t want someone to hear.” He leans over you, presses a light kiss to your mouth and grabs one of your hands. Moving your hand over your mouth, he helps you press your palm to your lips, muffling the noises coming from your lips. You nod in response, keeping your hand there when he moves his away, gripping back on to your hips to hold you in place. “Don’t want everyone to know how I’m corrupting you.”

Another moan leaves your mouth at that, luckily much quieter due to your palm. Your free hand flys down, grips over his on your hip. He keeps moving, parting your lips and spreading wetness across your pussy, hitting your clit perfectly with each thrust. A curse leaves his throat when your back begins to arch, the white hot feeling in your cunt growing fast. You can almost feel the restraint leaving his body, feel the roll of his hips getting heavier, harsher. A tear rolls down your cheek, your eyes wet with the sheer strength of this new pleasure you’re experiencing. 

“Fuck, you’re doing so good, so quiet for me.” Lukas’s accent is thicker now, his head tipping back in pleasure as he ruts against you with abandon, chasing his climax. “So fucking beautiful like this.”

That’s all it really takes for you to fall apart, cumming on his cock. Your orgasm hits in a wave, making your thighs shake and eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy. You’re incredibly glad for the hand on your mouth as it muffles the high moan that leaves your lips. You don’t see him with your eyes shut, but the groans you hear let you know that Lukas is not far behind you. A few mascara stained tears run from your eyes when you open them again, your gaze being met with Lukas’s head tilted toward the ceiling, his mouth open in pleasure. 

His cock moves from your cunt, positioning over your lower stomach. His hand moves, jerking himself roughly as he looks down to meet your eyes. Your hand moves from your mouth, and you sit up a bit as you reach for him, fingers coming to rest on his hip to keep him close to you. Another low curse falls from his mouth, and with a gravely groan he cums. White ropes shoot across your stomach, resting on your skin warmly. You whimper in sympathy, watching as he twitches and bucks against his hand recklessly. 

Lukas’s chest rises and falls quickly, breath coming fast and deep as his orgasm washes over him. When his eyes reopen, he’s quick to pull you up to meet his mouth with a burning kiss. The kiss isn’t long, but when you pull away he rests his forehead against yours, eyes shut and breathing slowly returning to normal. You stay that way for a while, just close and quiet. A few moments pass, and when he moves to stand back up you take the time to dart your hand down and gather up some of the cum on your pelvis, licking it off your finger as you raise it to your mouth.

He quietly laughs, blissed out and smiley. “You love that, don’t you?”

“Mhm. I don’t know- ‘just makes me feel close to you.” He kisses you again, softly this time, almost proud.

“I’m making a monster. First you ask me to fuck you and now you’re swallowing my cum.” He moves to his dresser, retrieving a hand towel as you sit on the bed, careful to not let any of his spend drip onto the sheets. 

“Why didn’t you fuck me?” Your head tilts as you ask. He moves to kneel in front of you, gently wiping the cum from your skin as he answers.

“I told you, I’m gonna make it special for your first time.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll even let you be my first time, now that you’ve rejected me.” It’s playful and he knows it, grinning up at you as he moves to wipe the wetness from the inside of your thighs.

“It wasn’t a rejection, it was a postponing.” Lukas stands, quickly cleaning off before tucking himself away and turning to look for your panties. “And who else would it be? Are you cheating on me?”

“No, but I can’t cheat on you if weren’t not together.” He pauses at that, head cocking as he makes eye contact with you.

“We aren’t together?”

“You haven’t asked me!”

“I thought it was self-evident. You don’t need to ask if it’s already obvious.” Lukas stoops to grab your panties from the floor, moving to hand them to you. 

You accept the fabric in an outstretched hand, setting it on the bed next to you. “Well, I would like you to ask. Make it official.”

He gives a dramatic sigh, reaches out and grabs your hands to pull you to standing. Lukas holds your hands, smiles and looks into your eyes. “Will you date me?”

You think about teasing him, making him wait, but your excitement gets the best of you and you release your answer quickly. “Yes, I will date you, Lukas Matsson.”

Your kiss is domestic and cheesy, after you separate he pulls you back into his body, rests his chin on your head for a while while he holds you close. You end up leaving your panties with him, they're still too wet to wear comfortably. Lukas helps you fix your makeup and hair, and you check to make sure your lip gloss isn’t all over his mouth (it was). He fastens your shoes back on for you, kneeling in front of you so you don’t have to bend over with your still shaky legs. He holds your hand until you reach outside and you put some space between yourselves as you enter public once more.

Roman is just finishing his call when you get back to the boat, waving at you as he quickly hangs up. You give Lukas a handshake, Rome just shouts his goodbye from a distance, and you quickly speed off again across the lake as soon as you enter the boat. Once again separated, you swear you immediately feel heavier without Lukas’s presence.

Your brother thinks the deal is fucked, he makes that clear when you’re alone again. He half blames you, half blames himself. Either way, he’s scared shitless to tell your dad about Matsson’s merge idea. So it’s a major shock when you arrive in Milan and Logan is receptive to the proposal. He praises Roman openly for once, and even commends you on your role in negotiating the deal.

But good things don’t tend to stay good for long in your family. You know something’s wrong when Logan calls you and Shiv into his office abruptly, right before your meeting with the bankers is supposed to begin. It honestly doesn’t surprise you as much as some would think to learn Roman had been sexting Gerri. You try to defend him against Shiv’s attacks, but it doesn’t do much good, not when the evidence is sitting in front of you. At the very least, you make some kind of progress covering for Gerri, reminding your dad of her loyalty. 

Things are weird and fucked the next day. The night before Comfrey had texted you to let you know that Kendall was in the hospital. She wouldn’t say what happened, just that they were keeping him overnight and he was okay. You texted your siblings but everyone was skirting around the answer with you. They knew you cared about Kendall, maybe too much, and that telling you he had nearly drowned (possibly by his own doing) would set you off like a firework.

You wanted to go visit Kendall the next day, or be there when he arrived at the villa, or just do something to help him out. But he didn’t answer your calls and all the information you were given was extremely vague. You weren’t invited to Caroline’s wedding ceremony, so you planned on staying in bed and Facetiming with Lukas all day, waiting for a response from your brother. Your day starts off that way, sleeping in and chatting with your boyfriend into the late morning, but then Lukas tells you about Gojo’s market cap. You knew he was good, you knew he was doing all he could to get the market in Gojo’s favor, but you never expected it’s worth would surpass Waystar’s.

It’s no surprise that your dad ends up calling you, recruiting you to join him on a trip to Matsson’s. When he tells you he’s considering not inviting Roman, you manage to convince him to bring him too, citing his friendship with Matsson as a cause. So you head to Lake Maggiore, again, and arrive at Lukas Matsson’s villa, again. The excitement you feel when seeing him is shrouded in the anxiety of the sudden meeting. 

You feel like every glance between the two of you is obvious. The way he parts his lips, the way your eyes drift across his frame, it’s all unmistakable of two lovers. 

Lukas leads the three of you to an outdoor area on his grounds and when the conversation starts, his intent is clear. He didn’t tell you he wanted to buy Waystar, well he may have hinted at it, but it still feels like a bit of a betrayal. Like a shock. Even worse of a shock, Logan doesn’t immediately hate it, not in his usual way.

“Yeah. This is not happening.” The rage isn’t there behind Logan’s words. His gaze drifts to Roman, then back to Matsson. Lukas raises his eyebrows.

“Okay, I see that. Understood. But, you want to stick around? See if the old deal still has shape? Side snacks?” Logan smiles, he actually smiles, at Matsson’s offer. “You have that Israeli AI operation I might like. Maybe an asset swap sort of thing?”

“Why not.” The eye contact between Lukas and your dad is never ending. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. “Rome, you should head back. For your mom, and everything.”

“Yeah, sure thing.” Roman looks to you, motions with his thumb in the general direction of the dock. “Do you wanna…?”

“I’m not going to the wedding. Not invited.” You offer a small smile, look to Logan for reassurance. 

“We’ll catch up with you later, Romulus.” 

Roman is dejected. An intruder, again. An outsider in the deal he’s worked so hard on, the deal he partially started. “Alright. Hate to miss the big nuptials! So… yeah. I’ll just go do that then…” He’s hesitant to go, pats you on the leg as he leaves, Dad on the shoulder.

They wait to start speaking again until well after he’s left, and when they do it’s straight to business. Your dad wants to sell. Lukas wants to buy. You’re the reluctant bridge between. Things move inside, to a formal dining room, and the real discussion begins. Numbers start to fly, calls get made, lawyers begin flying out. You end up doing more work than you meant to, arguing for both GoJo and Waystar. Trying desperately to keep all the men in your life happy. At the same time, you’re conflicted. You know your siblings will hate this deal, you know how badly they want to inherit the company, how hard they’ve worked for one of them to eventually be CEO.

But the thing is, you don’t hate the deal. You were never going to lead Waystar, never going to be more than the founder’s child. You’re the youngest Roy sibling, a woman, and from a different marriage than the others. There was no chance of you ever being number one, and you knew that from the day you were born. So why not sell the company? You don’t want to dedicate your entire life to this soul crushing work. At the same time, you care so much for your family, more than you do for yourself. This would wreck your siblings, they wanted Waystar more than they wanted life itself. Even if being family owned fucks you, it means the world to them.

 When you finally leave Lukas’s, it’s well past the wedding ceremony, and it’s clear Dad doesn’t intend on joining the afterparty. The operation moves to Logan’s villa. The cavalry marches in, dressed in designer suits and holding briefcases stuffed with Macbooks. There’s dozens of people you’ve never even met swarming around a huge table. It doesn’t even feel real, like you’re watching a dream, or a nightmare, play out in front of you. You retire to your dads private office, curl up on a leather upholstered couch and just think. You know you should tell your siblings. Siobhan and Roman have been blowing up your phone for hours, you haven’t had the heart to answer. Your dad would kill you if you reached out. Ostracize you like Roman, or disown you like Kendall. Your brain feels like a whirlpool, your thoughts flying around enough to give you a headache. You turn to the only person you can think of.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“...”

“Are you okay?” Lukas’s voice is genuinely worried, silence isn’t normal in the conversations between you two. You hear a rustling on the other line like he’s stood up.

“I don’t really know. I wish you were here.” 

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“I feel like a traitor.”

“Why?”

“My siblings… you know they will hate this deal.” You stress the word hate, voice a little bit breathless with anxiety. 

“I do.” His voice is quiet, almost whispering as he speaks to you.

“They would rather die than sell Waystar. But I-” You sigh, swallow thickly. “I almost agree with Dad. I think this is a good move for us. Not just because I’m fucking the guy who’s buying the company.”

“Well then, why do you agree?”

“If we don’t sell, we’re gonna get swallowed whole. All we have is the content, not the platform to back it up, not new technology to keep us relevant.”

“That’s all true.” Lukas’s voice gets a little louder, his sentences trailing off a bit as he prompts you to keep talking.

“But even if we had that, even if we were doing better, we were more stable…”

“You still would want to sell?” He already knows what’s on your mind. Of course he does.

“I think so… I mean, I will never be CEO. Not if we’re family owned, not if we’re owned by GoJo, never. And I don’t want to spend my life in this company, especially if I’m not running it.” Your head tips back against the wall you’re leaning on. You’re hiding away in a bathroom, your voice echoing a bit as it bounces off the marble walls. “This work… it fucking destroys people.” 

“It sounds like you already know what you think.”

“But Shiv and Roman and Kendall… They want the company so badly. They’ve been prepped to run it since they were kids. Even if they kill each other for CEO, at least one of them would get what they wanted.” You’re louder now, voice still stressed but frustration peaking through.

“You need to stop wasting your life making other people happy. You would do anything for your family, and they wouldn’t do shit for you.” Lukas’s tone isn’t angry or yelling, it’s stating a fact.

“That’s not true-”

“Is it? I see you go above and beyond for them every single day, and they never spare you a second glance.” Lukas’s voice is almost pleading when he speaks next. “Think about yourself, for once. Please.” 

“Thank you.” Your eyes are brimmed with tears, your fingers coming up to brush them away quickly. “I will.”

There’s a small pause before he talks again. “Are you mad I didn’t tell you about buying Waystar?” You laugh, breathlessly, at the simpleness of his question after all you’ve just talked about.

“No, I’m not mad. I was shocked…but I think it’s worn off. You’re just doing what’s best for you.”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“I think you’re really smart actually. If I was in your position I’d do the same thing.” You move from your stance against the wall to look in the mirror, checking to fix any smudged mascara.

“That’s what I thought. I asked myself what you would do.”

“No, you did not.”

“No, I did not. I did think about how it would affect you though.”

“Thank you for that.” It’s half sarcastic, but you know he really does care for you. 

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ll talk to you later today.”

“Okay. Come visit soon.” Lukas ends like he always does, asking for your presence. 

“I’ll try.”

It takes you a minute to compose yourself. Fix your hair, wipe off some of your fucked up concealer, blow your nose. You exit the bathroom, walk down the hall and down some stairs, finally arriving in front of the massive wooden doors leading to your dad’s office. Your brain is finally quieter now, thoughts forming clearer and headache fading quickly. You slip a small smile to the bodyguard, Colin, who opens the door for you to enter. 

Your three siblings are there, backs facing the door as they stare down Logan, who’s just moved to press a button on the phone resting against his desk. Their heads snap to you. The door shuts behind you. Siobhan opens her mouth, but you speak before she does.

“What’s going on? When did you get here?”

“What’s going on? You know what’s going on, Dad is selling and fucking our entire lives up.” Shiv faces you, her eyes are daggers and her body is a rocket about to explode. “And you didn’t tell us.”

“No, he’s not fucking your lives up. It’s not the end of the world, Shiv.” You approach them, eyes wide and pleading. 

“So you do know. You knew he was selling the company and you didn’t think ‘Hmm maybe I should tell my siblings this, you know, since they’ve spent their entire lives thinking they were going to run Waystar!’” Roman throws his hands up, his jaw is clenched and his eyes are watering.

“Do you think it would’ve made a difference?” Your voice drops, both in tone and volume. “Do you really think I have any sort of control? Any say in what happens?”

Everyone is quiet for a moment, Kendall won’t make eye contact with you. Logan is watching you intently before gazing at his other children’s faces.

“I have never, and will never, be number one. I will never have control over the company, I will never even have control over one branch of the company. I will never be CEO, I won’t even make it to CFO, because I will always be lower than you. And I will always be there for you to yell at and use and manipulate. You already fucking do!” You’re more angry than sad now, maybe it’s misdirected, but you’re too wound up to care. “For once in my life, I’m thinking about myself. And I will not let this shit, this work, destroy me like it has destroyed you.”

A few tears spill from your eyes, you don’t bother to wipe them up, just continue your eye contact with your siblings. You’re right and everyone knows it, from Gerri and Karl sitting on the couch to Logan in front of you. Shiv can’t hold your gaze anymore, she drops her eyes to the ground. Roman turns to your Dad, his eyes are wide and desperate.

“Please?” His voice is meek, barely a whisper.

“‘Please?’ You bust in here with guns, but now that you find they’ve turned to fucking sausages, you want to say ‘please?’” Logan moves from where he was half-sitting on the arm of a couch to stand in front of your siblings. “You should have trusted me.”

“Dad, why?” 

“Oh you need me to tell you why? Like your sister didn’t already? But your too fucking ashamed to admit she’s right.” He begins walking to the door, past your siblings, pausing at you to put a hand on your shoulder. “Because it works. I fucking win. Now go on, go on, fuck off you nosey fucking pedestrians.” 

The doors open, Logan is immediately tasked with papers to sign and business to attend to. Roman moves to Jerri, asks her something you don’t quite hear from the blood rushing in your ears, before moving back to the crowd of your siblings. Roman crumples to the floor, Kendall with his hands on his shoulders, Shiv next to them. You turn to see Tom entering, him offering you a weak smile as he passes.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Kendall.” Your voice is monotone. Ken looks up at you, opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it. Tom starts speaking to Shiv, but you don’t hear what he says, already turning to walk out the doors, to head back to your hotel suite, to head away from your family. 

You stay on the phone with Lukas the rest of that night. You can’t sleep but you don’t want to be awake. He eases the pain. He says he’s proud of you. He cares more than anyone you’ve known. 

When you finally fall asleep in the early morning hours, you dream of space. You’re a cosmonaut, dancing on Saturn’s rings, playing baseball with meteors. The darkness is liminal, and pure, and calm. And the constellations are breathing around you, lighting your lawless orbit. You break the trail of a comet, its fire dotting the sky like a stitch on black cloth. Venus is a stray dog, following you wherever you lead it, spinning for attention and praise. Stars flicker like faces, you can’t recognize who they are anymore.

 When you touch the Earth, everything sings.

© secondhand-snow 2024

[edens-pen]

“am i not my brother’s keeper?”

summary | it takes time for dabi to understand you, mostly because he doesn’t know how to ask. he supposes he’ll start with the scar on your back and go from there.

pairing | dabi/touya todoroki x fem!reader

word count | 1,405

warning | very minor/implied angst, minor hurt/comfort, mentions of god/God, reader has an older brother.

a/n | i don’t want to make this too long, so it might end up being a series of drabbles. but honestly, dabi as an older sibling, especially in shoto’s case, affects me so much. he believes he is irredeemable.

but what is the true extent of a sibling's love?

[ 18+ | minors, blank, ageless blogs dni! ]

—

It happens on one of those nights after disgusting, earth-shattering sex. The kind that you need to take a shower after. The kind that makes you strip the sheets before you get in the shower. The kind that makes you wonder if God really does see everything.

That’s when Dabi learns a little more about you. 

So far things have been pretty casual, Dabi comes in and out as he pleases, sometimes disappearing for weeks at a time and then staying the night but leaving promptly in the morning, usually before you wake up. 

You still insist on him wearing a condom despite the fact that you’re on birth control and you’re not having sex with anyone else (after you two become exclusive, he’ll reveal he hadn’t slept with anyone since the first time you two kissed).

It’s casual.

When two are tucked back in the sheets, with a candle burning in the corner of the room, Dabi looks at you.

Or, rather, he’s looking at your back. You’re a shitty sleeper and despite how many times he sleeps over, you still tend to sleep diagonally in a king-sized bed, on your stomach, drooling across the pillow.

That’s when he’s able to take stock of your skin when he’s not peeling the clothes off or shoving your face into the mattress to arch your back a little more.

His fingers run over scarred skin and when he pulls back, he sees a long jagged scar running down your back, and then a set of identical smaller ones, light and scattered over your skin.

“What happened here?” he can’t help but ask, his curiosity making him shed the mysterious and disinterested persona he tries to carry in front of you.

Of course, you’re already half asleep, but you still murmur out, “Where?”

Dabi’s fingers dig into the long scar a little bit harder as his mind runs wild. He needs to know who gave you that scar and he can’t explain why he’s already thinking about the repercussions for the person who did. 

He doesn’t know much about your life before you met him. Sometimes you tell him about work or your friends, but never much about your past. He can’t argue about it because he hasn’t told you anything about his own past.

“Here,” he grunts, indicating the scars that litter your skin. They’re all similar shades which must mean you got them at or around the same time, but the sizes vary so greatly he doesn’t know what could’ve happened to you.

“Oh,” you groan, pulling your face out of the pillow to speak a little clearer.

“Got pushed off the roof,” you say casually.

Dabi jerks back and forcefully rolls you over, making you look into his eyes. Your expression is completely bewildered but Dabi’s is hostile.

He spends an extra second looking at your face before gritting out, ”What?”

It takes you a little too long to respond because you’re taking in his face. You usually never get anything more than cool disinterest, or sometimes mild interest, but he’s never been mad around you. So you’ve never got the chance to see the way his eyes narrow, or feel how his hands heat up unintentionally. Now you have the chance to see the hard set of his jaw and flare of his nostrils.

Dabi repeats himself, calling your attention back to the moment, “What happened?”

“My older brother pushed me off the roof,” you answer, still enthralled with Dabi and his face and the way his anger changes even the tone of his voice. But when your answer doesn’t placate him, you’re quickly realizing you need to diffuse the situation.

Bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks, you blow a prolonged stream of air into his face. It startles him enough to make him pull back and shake his head. It cuts the tension in the room and allows you to switch your position, forcing him onto his back while you lay on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper, eyebrows wrinkled in question.

The momentary lapse doesn’t completely pull Dabi from his emotions and you don’t know why he’s so incensed.

“Why the fuck would he push you off the roof?” Confusion ripples across your face and it only serves to make Dabi more angry. “Stop fuckin’ looking at me like I’m crazy. Your brother tried to kill you!”

Your hands come up and you lock eyes with Dabi, taking a slow breath in and slow breath out. Dabi’s forced to mimic your actions until you stop to speak to him.

“He wasn’t trying to kill me, Dabi. We were up on the roof, when we weren’t supposed to be, just playing around. He was like 10 and I was 8, and he pushed me by accident,” you explain as he listens. “I think he thought I would fly because of my quirk, instead I landed in my mom’s garden and now she blames us for her hydrangeas never growing in that spot.”

“What’d your parents do to him?” 

His question immediately shocks and you try to understand why he would ask that, but you answer anyway.

“Nothing. I told them that I slipped and fell off the roof, and after I got my stitches, they didn’t ask again.”

Dabi waits for the rest, “Then what?”

“That was it. It was an accident, Dabi. He wasn’t trying to hurt me, we were just being dumb. Aside from bringing it up on my birthdays and when I need a favor from him, we don’t really think of it,” you finish. 

When Dabi doesn’t respond, you repeat, “He wasn’t trying to hurt me, we were just kids. We didn’t know any better.”

Moments of silence pass between you both. Dabi’s looking in your eyes, trying to read your body language, searching for signs that you’re lying. You’re trying to figure out why he’s reacting like this. Most of what you say to Dabi comes up with little to no questioning, he’s never reacted so passionately in front of you.

“You don’t,” Dabi clears his throat, looking at you intensely. “You don’t hate him?”

Immediately, you shake your head. “He’s my big brother, I love him.”

“He pushed you off a roof,” Dabi reiterates like you forgot.

“And I broke his favorite action figure. I cut a chunk out of his hair. I accidentally stole the breath out of his body when I developed my quirk,” you volley back, laughing a little. “He’s my brother, I can’t imagine there’s much I wouldn’t forgive him for.”

At your words, Dabi relaxes a little bit. 

Another beat passes.

“What if he did something worse?” Dabi asks, his voice a whisper in the quiet of your room. The candle in the corner flickers a little bit. 

“You want me to get all philosophical on you?” Your words are a joke, but Dabi doesn’t laugh, and he doesn’t say no.

So, you’re serious when you say, “Simply put, yes, he could do something worse and I would forgive him. I would forgive him, as long as he doesn’t go where I cannot follow. He could kill god and it would be fine with me, as long as he doesn’t kill himself. He’s my brother.”

It’s your repetition of that phrase that does Dabi in. It keeps hammering itself inside him. You say it differently every time. 

An explanation, a curse, a vow.

“Is it like that for everyone?” Dabi implores, and you wish you could open up his head. You want to poke around and find out why he needs to know this information, because that’s how he’s asking you. He speaks like he’s investigating something and your answer could crack open a cold case.

You consider him for a moment. “I guess it depends on the relationship. I don’t know if you have older siblings, but it’s like…I was born knowing him, y’know? I watched him grow up and the entire time, I was powerless. I couldn’t stop my dad from screaming at him or my mom from scolding him, but I could love him and I could forgive him. I could protect him in my silence, in my being there.”

You hope that Dabi finds some peace in your answer. 

“I don’t know how to explain it other than—”

“He’s your brother,” Dabi finishes. “That makes him infallible.”

“No, but it makes all his sins venial.”

—

[lowfunctioningoptimist]

My Wretched, Bastard Sister

Platonic!MicahxSister!Reader

(Before 1899) Summary: This part details how you met your half-brother Micah and the life you lived prior to joining the Van der Linde Gang. Warnings: References to Physical ab-se, verbal ab-se, neglect, angst, unhealthy relationships (co-dependent), viol-ice, blood, reader is written as a half-sibling for immersion.

The only thing you share with your brother is a father and a name. You don’t look much like him at all, which is a blessing you’re unaware of. Before your father took you, you lived with your mother. She was the daughter of a farmer who was disowned for falling pregnant out of wedlock. His name was Micah Bell Jr., and he left not long after bedding your mother in the family barn.  All her misfortune was put unto you, for she blamed you and you alone. Mother was cold at best. Her beauty helped her earn money, but not a husband. Your presence made it hard for the wealthy bachelors around town to take her hand. Over and over your mother would scream at you for ruining her life, how she didn’t want you there. 

The day Micah Bell Jr. came riding back into town felt like divine providence to your mother. 

You were a girl of only twelve when she dragged you into the saloon where the Bell Boys were said to be staying in. He was an ugly man, your father. Tall, grey-haired, with wild eyes and a wide mouth with his front teeth missing. At either side of him were his two sons, Micah Bell III and Amos Bell. Micah Jr. couldn’t remember your mother at all. He and his eldest son mocked you both as your mother shoved you forward. Mother insisted that you were his bastard and that he should claim you, take you away. All your father seemed to care about was if you knew how to cook a meal. When your mother said yes, you were riding out of town with them that same day.

The father who stole you had no love to give. He made clear right away that he only claimed you because you could be useful. Micah III didn’t want anything to do with you. Your eldest brother was in his late twenties when you came into his life. Micah always looked a bit older than his years to you. You suppose that’s the consequence of hard living, but Amos never looked that way. Micah barely spoke to you. Which you often preferred. When Micah did speak to you, it was to explain how much he hated that his father had a bastard. How he hated having some little girl following him around. Some bastard sister that folks would confuse for being his bastard daughter.  He hated you, but he never beat you. Not like your father did. It wasn’t long after your father took you that he started to give you, “discipline.” 

Amos was the gentler of your half-brothers. Alone with you, he would be kind. With the other two, he kept silent no matter what he saw. Together you would talk in hushed whispers of a simpler life. One of kindness and quiet in the far-off west. Amos had been father’s beast to blame until you showed up. If he didn’t seem terribly guilty about it, it was because he was relieved. He left in the middle of the night after an argument with father turned bad. Micah seemed all too delighted to share that Amos didn’t even look back as he ran off.

Not long after Amos left, father died of a broken neck. His horse had bucked him off his back as he and Micah were riding back to camp. That was the story Micah told you, anyway.

Since then, it had just been the two of you.

Micah is fond of reminding you that he could have just left you to die at that tiny camp father had set up. You didn’t have a horse, or a clue. And it wasn’t uncommon for them to be honest for days, leaving you to hold up camp on your own. Who knows how long you would have just sat there, waiting? When you ask him why he came to get you, he just says that you “have your uses.” He wasn’t wrong about that either. You can cook, clean, sew clothing just fine, and you’re loyal. 

Years would pass by like a prisoner’s dirty nail on a cell wall. Slow, purposeful, without a clear end or goal. You grew from girl to woman but never felt all that different inside. Hair in two braids and clothes mended thrice with patches of other garments because Micah never lets you go into town to shop. Still trembling when Micah would raise his voice or fist, even though he had never struck you before. He leaves you at camp with a loaded rifle each day and expects a long list of chores to be finished before he returns. Although you always complete your tasks perfectly, he never seems grateful or impressed.

At camp, he likes to have a few drinks by the fire and tell you stories. Tales of the past, ranging from mere hours ago to decades. Micah talks and talks, you just listen. You really don’t say much at all. He says that it’s something he likes about you, "If you weren't so ugly, I could make some coin in marrying' you off. Quiet women are a rare find in these modern days."

Micah doesn’t sleep well most nights. You often saw him sitting by the fire wide awake, staring off into nothing. Sometimes, you try to sit up with him. 

As nasty as he could be, you relied on him. You could shoot a gun, but you weren’t a cutthroat criminal by any stretch of the imagination. Micah was your defender, the breadwinner, and the Knower Of All Important Things. Between the two of you, he could read the best, so he would buy a newspaper and read it aloud to you if he was in a good mood. Aside from that, Micah didn’t really act much like a brother. He treated you like an indentured servant. Had you a kinder life before meeting him, that might’ve hurt you. Instead, it was all normal to you. 

In 1897, Micah took two bullets in a robbery gone bad. He had one bullet in his shoulder and another in his left thigh. Micah was able to ride back to camo before he passed out. Your brother fell from his horse a bloodied mess, babbling incoherently about bankers with pistols and that he couldn’t think straight. Without another thought, you went to his side and worked to stop the bleeding. When morning came, Micah awoke to you sitting at the side of his cot. You gave him a small smile and before you could ask him how he felt he demanded to know, “Why’re you still here? I figured you woulda hopped on Baylock and been halfway to California by now.”

You replied, “I can’t leave my brother.”

He let out a scoff that made him flinch, healing shoulder wound and all, “Ain’t there another one further west?”

“I stayed cus’ you’re the brother who didn’t leave me, Micah,” his mouth slammed shut at your words. For the first time in all the years you traveled with him, you had rendered your brother speechless. “We only got each other, don’t we?” you reached out to take his hand. He let you, for a moment. That perplexed look in his pale grey-blue eyes looked almost childlike. Vulnerable. It lasted about as long as your hand holding his. 

Micah snatched his hand back and sneered at you, “How ‘bout you get to fixing your good brother something to eat ‘stead of holding my goddamn hand? I’m starving!”

He was quiet for a few days after that. Angry. Things felt a bit different between you two. Micah went back to being a bully and a taskmaster, but he didn’t scare you as much anymore. You had seen behind the curtain and inside of his soul. In that brief moment where his eyes had gotten big and his heart slipped to his sleeve, you saw why he really came to get you after father died. 

Micah was afraid of being alone and afraid of needing somebody all at once. What a sad way to live, you thought.

Things were mostly back to normal until about a year later. The night that Micah saved a man’s life. Something you aren’t sure he’s ever done before. And from this uncharacteristic act of kindness, you and your half-brother would enter the Van Der Linde Gang. 

[jwirecs]

RECOMMENDED BTS FICS OF NOVEMBER 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my bts recs of november! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Bad Boy || @i-am-baechu🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ Yoongi has been best friends with Namjoon since he was seven. He knew his little sister was always off limits but Yoongi never followed the rules. (we love it when siblings are supportive of them crushes. we gotta give respect to yoongi for not pursuing his crush to not risk his friendship with namjoon. but also props to namjoon for not getting pissed off when they finally got together though.)

Partner Privileges || @7ndipity💕✅💯

↳ (imma need me a man to give me partner privileges like this yoongi right here. like my man yoongi is a whole ass softie. i love it.)

Sharp Teeth || @dearly-somber💕💔🔄💯💯💯

↳ Jungkook—a love struck puppy pining for Y/N’s affection. Y/N—an obvious, hard-headed tsundere too thick to realize a shifter likes her. What could go wrong? (i have a HUUUUUUUUGE soft spot for fantasy fics (mainly werewolf fics and stuff, and i solely blame my 13 year old self watching twilight LOL). like if you are writing a werewofl/hybrid/shifter fic just know that is going to be automatically be in my reading list. when i came across this one, oh lord have mercy. read all of them in one sitting PLUS its still ongoing to. imma have a field day with this one i know it.)

Finding Your Boyfriend Sleeping In Your Hyperfeminine Pink Room || @rrjkive💕✅

↳ (theres no summary, but we just gotta love soft jungkook you know. like with the live of him just sleeping on live is freaking adorable and you can literally picture this big ass man with THAT HELLO KITTY THATS IN HIS LIVING ROOM and the man is just hugging that sht to death while sleeping.)

Five More Minutes || @7ndipity💕✅

↳ Anon Req: "Having to stand up in the morning with yoongi but not wanting to. cuddling and trying to stay in bed as long as possible instead" (i love soft yoongi, in this world, alternative world, ANY WORLD LIKE SOFT YOONGI IS SUPERIOR.)

Was It Better? || @gyukookswhore🔞✅

↳ Jungkook has been acting weird lately in bed, but your not complaining about it or are you ? (you know how it was literally no nut november for fics, well, lets just say that half of these fics on this list is literally smut. that says a lot. aka i clearly did not get the memo since i read mostly smut LOL. but this fic, is so detailed that i could read it again ngl.)

Wonderstruck || @jinkookspencil💕✅

↳ jungkook convinced his fearful girlfriend to try out a rollercoaster at the funfair… (honestly the ask that was sent to op was perfect. like stop this sht is fcking cute. got me giggling in bed kicking my feet and sht.)

Animal Farm || @joonberriess🔞✅

↳ (there was no summary, but holy jesus, this was literally a wild ride. like without reading the tags and tw, but the title alone, i thought this was going to be a lil cute fic about farming you know. BUT NO THIS WAS NOT ABOUT FARMING WHAT SO EVER BUT THIS WAS A WILD WILD RIDE. i say give it a read if you are like me who forgets to read the tags and tw (which is prob not a good thing) but its a suprise everytime i read something.)

Biker!Kook || @lustfuldevils💕✅💯

↳ (there was no summary exactly, but lets just say that im a sucker for biker!kook + reader. whether the reader is like innocent type or just a regular...person??? like personality wise you know. i dont know if that made any sense, but you know what im talking about..hopefully)

Every Little Thing || @7ndipity💔✅💯

↳ When you overhear Yoongi talking about how clingy you’ve been lately, you decide to take a step back from your friendship to give him space. But your sudden absence goes far from unnoticed by him. (i like to torture myself by reading angst that makes me feel sad and sht. honeslty love this one + im pretty sure theres like 3-4 fics from this op on this list. hi just wanted to say that i love your writing.)

Forest Bride || @flowerwrites06🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ The business transaction of a marriage between two previous warring clans takes an unexpected turn. (i love how yoongi automatically became protective over oc while she was slightly closed off due to their past experience. like all hail yoongi.)

Lost & Found || @theharrowing💕💔✅

↳ Taehyung just wants to be left alone. Too bad you need a place to stay. (i honestly love fics where its told from the members pov. like it gives us a chance to read about what they would do and say (even if its fiction you know) like it gives us a different pov then other fics where its mainly through a third-person pov or like the readers pov. love this)

My Alpha || @btsbrat🔞✅💯

↳ you discover that the soon to be alpha, Jungkook, is your destined mate. However, your story takes an unexpected turn when Jungkook rejects the mate bond. (i honestly thought that this fic wouldve been longer, you know just to prolong the rejection and what jk would do, but this pace is also good too. i hope that op makes a longer version where it involves like the in between you know! not that op has to make a longer ver, i also love this ver too!)

Of Storms and Vampires || @wishesunderthestars💕💔🔄💯

↳ During the worst storm you have witnessed in your life, a bat crashes on your window. When you bring it inside your cottage to take care of it, you realize it isn't simply a bat but a baby vampire. Your past has come back to haunt you because Jungkook's sire is no one else but Min Yoongi, who you had left behind when you disappeared five years ago. (this is still currently ongoing but i havent read many vampire!bts fics BUT lets just say, bats be cute and sht but deadly. cant wait to read the future chapters. also this is first chapter isnt rushed or anything so it def caught my reading eye for sure. went at a nice pace, not too fast, not too slow which i love)

Do check out all of the other BTS Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

[margareturtle]

I’ll never understand why Jamarylily (James+Mary+Lily) isn’t just as popular as Jegulily

(Obvi I do mlm led ships are always more popular than wlw ones but I digress)

But anyways it’s wild that I’ve heard of so many wild ships (rosestarkillerchaser?? Bitchkiller?? Partyvan??) but never seen anyone else bring up JAMARILILY

SO JUST— HEAR ME OUT

You want angst? You want messy? You want drama?? Pining? Jealousy?

Jamarylily has it all no matter how you spin it

Say James and Mary are the most popular in school so it seems inevitable that they’re gonna end up dating and they do and it’s fun bc they’re besties and have good chemistry but the thing is…they’re missing something bc they’re both still in love with Lily!!

Whenever Lily sees them together she can’t decide if she’s more jealous of James or Mary (she’s jealous of both)

When James has given up on dating at hogwarts bc he was so obnoxious 5th year so he’s not trying, but summer going into 7th year he has a massive glowup and then suddenly both Lily and Mary want to go on dates with him. They don’t know about each other and Remus yells at James that he can’t keep doing this and needs to break it off with one of them but James doesn’t want to bc he likes them both.

When Mary and Lily find out about each other they are still mad at James but they’re also in love with each each other so they take him back.

Mary breaks up with Sirius (bc he’s a shitty bf and in love with remus but not willing to admit it) and she wants to get back at him by sleeping with James. James has just broken up with Regulus (bc he’s joining the de) and he wants distraction so he and Mary sleep together and it becomes a usual hookup and eventually they both catch feelings. While at the same time Mary is conflicted bc she has feelings for her best friend and she doesn’t want to be like Sirius was to her with James— but she still does have real feelings for James. Meanwhile James 2nd-5th yr crush on Lily that he thought he was gone is coming back… ft jealous Black Brothers hehe

NO MATTER HOW YOU SPIN IT— they all get together at the same time, marylily is in love first, jily is together first and both in love with mary!!!

ALSO ANGST!!

Halloween 1981 (nevermind that mary would make her bestie Emmeline secretkeeper and it wouldn’t have happened— but I digress)

Mary is a healer at st mungos and she’s working Halloween night— when she gets home dumbledore is there and so is Sirius. Sirius leaves to go after Peter once Mary gets there as he thinks that Harry will be in good hands. But bc of the prophecy and the “blood relative protection spell” Dumbledore needs Harry to go to Petunia and so he obliviates Mary and she moves to America where she never sees Harry again.

Bonus points if Mary just found out she was pregnant but bc she was obliviated she just thinks that her kids father was some one night stand that she had forgotten— meanwhile Harry has a younger half sibling out there that doesn’t even know he exists <3

[illwritethanks]

Freedom -Part 3

Pairing- Sully family x niece!reader

WC- 2,005

Genre- fluff, maybe a little bit of angst?

Warnings- siblings being siblings, lots of hate on Spider, the whole family are sassy 😭

A/n- Hiii! I had to half this because it was getting to long so there is going to be a part 2 to part 3 😂 ALSO I just want to say thank you for everyone liking this! And I’m sorry that I haven’t reply to those who messaged! I would but every time I do my other account shows and says that I written it from that one, but thank you to those who have messaged saying that they want to be tagged and that they like the story so far!

Quick info- Y/n- 12 years old, Spider- 11 years old, Neteyam- 10 years old, Kiri- 9 years old, Lo’ak- 9 years old, Tuk- 3 years old.

Waking up slowly, y/n heard the wild animals out in the forest and in the sky, she felt the wind brush across her bear arms and legs, she also felt the heavy pressure of her brother, Neteyam, leg across her stomach as he snored still peacefully sleeping, and also heard a small high pitched voice right next to them.

“Y/n! Neteyam!”

She felt small hands grip onto her body, pushing her every so often as they switched between her and her brother.

“Leave me alone.” She muttered under her breath, turning on her side shooing the person away, as well as pushing her brother off of her, to which he grunted as his foot harshly fell on the floor. She heard the person whine, smacking her arm slightly as they sat back down.

“Here, watch this.” She heard another voice whisper.

It was silent after that, small foot steps running out of their family hut. Finally the hut returned back to it’s peaceful state, no screaming kids, no fights, just the wind, waterfalls, and the animals she would hear every so often.

Peace and quiet.

Y/n finally felt herself drift off back to sleep, that was until she felt cold water splash onto her face. She gasped as she sat up, eyes locking onto Lo’ak and Kiri, holding a wooden bowl between them. Not only did the water splash her but her brother that laid next to her.

“Lo’ak.” Neteyam hissed out.

“Run.” Mumbled Kiri.

“Tsk, skxawngs.” Y/n said under her breath, her two younger siblings running out of the hut screaming and laughing as their older brother ran after them, dodging their mother, who was holding a sleepy Tuktirey on her hip, on the way out of the hut.

“What is happening?” Asked Netyiri, stroking Tuk’s hair as she walked further into their family hut.

“Lo’ak and Kiri are just being Lo’ak and Kiri.” She replied wiping the remaining water off of her face. Netyiri scoffed, looking towards the direction of where her children ran off toward.

“You should follow after them.” She stated, sitting down and placing Tuk in front of her, going through her braids, undoing some and re-braiding it to make them neater as her hair kept growing at unimaginable speed.

“But why? They are fine going by themselves now!”

Netyiri tutted as she looked up, narrowing her eyes at y/n as if daring her to try and challenge her.

Y/n groaned, dramatically falling to her side.

“They want to meet with the stray cat, and I don’t trust them alone together.” Netyiri said, continuing with her work.

The stray cat as people like to call him around the Omatikaya clan, is a small pink fleshed kid with dirty blonde dreadlocks called Spider. She can’t remember how he came to be and how he and her siblings became friends but she did know one thing, and that was that she did not like this kid. He wears the clothes of Na’vi and paints blue markings onto himself saying that he’s Na’vi, which you found utterly embarrassing. But no matter what he says or what he does, in Y/n’s books he will never be classed as a Na’vi. Never.

Not only was he human but he was always getting himself into trouble and dragging Lo’ak with him. And who had to save them. Y/n. Of course she doesn’t want to save him, but then her siblings start crying and hitting her saying that they will tell their Mother and Father. Not that Netyiri really cares what happened to the stray, but Y/n would rather save the pink fleshy thing rather than the scolding of Jake a hundred times over.

Y/n groaned once more before standing up, grabbing her knife and securing it around her hips before slowly walking out of the hut in the directions of where her younger brothers and sister ran off toward.

“Tsk, children.” Netyiri sighed under her breath.

Y/n walked past members of the clan who bowed their head at the young girl, which the young Na’vi did the same. Although she wouldn’t be the next Olo’eyktan (because Jake and Netyiri aren’t her biological Mother and Father), she was still the oldest daughter of the Olo’eyktan and Tsakarem, as well as her biological Father being the Olo’eyktan before dying in battle and her Mother that was meant to be the future Tsahìk but never got to finish her Tsakarem due to the sky people.

Y/n walked into Mo’at’s hut, who was sitting in the centre, a stone motor in one hand and a pessel in the other, grinding herbs and plants making medical pastes for the injured and sick Na’vi, her grandmother grumbling under her breath about what she need to do and get.

“Grandmother.”

Mo’at hummed in response, picking up other herbs and placing them in the motor.

“Do you know where my brothers and sister have run off to?”

“How would I know. They are not my children to look after.” She grunted.

Y/n rolled her eyes. Although it didn’t look like it, she had a really close relationship with her grandmother, and spent most of her time with her if she wasn’t with her siblings. She liked spending time with her grandmother, not only did she get taught special remedies, rituals and learnt more about Eywa but she learnt a lot about her mum and dad as well as her grandfather.

“Grandmother, please.” She begged.

Mo’at sighed as she placed down her belongings, turning her head to face Y/n, “They came in here made a mess, then ran off saying something about meeting someone.”

Y/n groaned, rushing out of her grandmothers hut and toward the edge of the village, her grandmother calling out to her, “you better watch that attitude, y/n or your younger siblings will pick up on it!”.

As Y/n got to the edge of the village she saw her siblings giggling with each other as they slowly made their descent down, jumping on vines connecting to other mountains and trees.

Running over she came to a stop just beside Lo’ak, roughly ruffling his head, which he pushed her hand off him, hissing.

“Are you lot going to meet the stray?” She asked.

Kiri rolled her eyes, “he has a name you know. It’s Spider.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“We’re going to meet dad after for training.” Neteyam said, skipping to the other side of a vine and jumping down onto the forest floor. Y/n hummed in acknowledgment, jumping down and turning around to help her younger siblings down.

Once she made sure all her siblings where on the forest floor safely, she nodded to Neteyam to take lead, to which he turn around quickly and took off, “first one there wins!” He shouted, jumping over and ducking under fallen logs.

“Hey! That’s no fair, Neteyam!” Lo’ak screamed, chasing after him.

Y/n let out a loud laugh, she enjoyed these times where her younger siblings could relax and just enjoy themselves rather than making sure they was on their best behaviour since their father was Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto, although that didn’t stop them from miss behaving on certain occasions.

Y/n grabbed Kiri, putting her on her back as she ran after her two brothers. Throughout the forest all that could be heard was the young Na’vi children laughing and shouting at each. The animals of Pandora watched as the siblings would push each other trying to take the lead of the group, jumping up into trees to run across the thick branches or leaping across small streams of water, laughing and teasing one another if one of them had slipped or got hit in the face by a branch.

Their laughter continued as they came to stop in the clearing. Y/n sitting at the bottom of a trunk, looking up at the leaves as the sun beamed down between them, she basked in the sunlight, feeling the warmth seep into her skin, “when is he meant to be meeting you?”

The three younger siblings looked around the forest, keeping their eye open for the small human boy. “Soon.” Stated Lo’ak, Kiri nodding along with him.

Y/n hummed, “well you know the rules, don’t go to far.”

“Yes.” Lo’ak groaned out, rolling his eyes.

A few minutes later a young boy wearing a mask emerged from the forest along with a large Avatar, who she recognised as Spider and Norm.

Norm was rambling on about something in English to the boy, which he kept reply yes to. Although Y/n didn’t know a lot of English like her younger siblings do, she could alway pick out a few words here and there.

“Ah! Y/n, I didn’t know you would be here!” Norm said in Na’vi.

Y/n grunted, “I’m here to look after my younger siblings. Make sure they don’t get into trouble.”

Although y/n didn’t like the sky people, despise them. She had a few she didn’t mind, despite her attitude, one of them being Norm (though she found it weird that he could go from human to Avatar with a click of a button), Max and Grace, although she had passed away, y/n felt like she knew her though the stories that the elders, Jake and Norm have told her. And let’s not forget about Jake. She remembered when she first found out that he was originally one of them, she felt horrified. But as she grew she became to love him like a father, how he fought for her family, her land. But in her books he was no longer a sky person, a human. He was Na’vi, a brother to the Omatikaya people.

“Ohhh, okay.” Norm replied, believing that the young Na’vi just wanted to hang out with her siblings and Spider, but because of how stubborn she was she would never let anyone know that she wanted to play with a human boy.

Y/n grunted as she rolled her eyes, looking across the forest, not wanting to indulge with Norm.

Then finally came the time when Norm was saying his goodbyes, not before talking Spider’s ear off about being safe and sticking with the Sully’s and to listen to Y/n.

As Norm disappeared into the forest, the children quickly started talking to each other, telling one another what they have missed from the two days they have been separated from each other, before they decided that it was time to play.

“Hey Y/n, do you want to play with us?” Spider asked, walking up to the girl who remained sitting down.

“I’m good, Stray.” She replied nonchalantly, although there was a hint of venom behind her words.

Spider let out a harsh breath, shaking his head in frustration as he turned, walking towards Lo’ak, “Why is she always so mad at me.”

Lo’ak let out a loud laugh, his head tilted back as if he heard the funniest joke in the whole world. Spider raised an eyebrow at his friend.

“No. No you got all wrong, cuz.” Lo’ak shook his head, placing his hand on his shoulder, “she just doesn’t like humans all that much.”

Spider scoffed, “are you sure? It seems like she only hates me. Do you think it’s because she found out who my father was.”

“No, trust me. If she knew who you was related to she would probably kill you. I mean, I’d kill you if you killed my parents.” Lo’ak shrugged his shoulders.

“Lo’ak.” Spider hissed.

“Anyway let’s go play! We have to meet our dad for training later, so we might not have enough time to play.” Lo’ak said, pushing Spiders shoulder before running in the direction he saw Neteyam and Kiri run off towards.

Before Spider left, he turned his head looking towards where Y/n was sitting, leaning on the trunk, her head against the tree bark as she stared up into the sky, watching the Ikran fly throughout the mountains.

He let out a sigh before following his friend.

It seems that whatever he did she would always take a disliking towards him.

Taglist: @bubble-blu , @aonungs-tsahik , @uwu-i-purple-you , @affdorabfle

[winterchimez]

Nightmare Before Christmas | Kevin Moon

SUMMARY: your uncle has always been a crime and supernatural fan and would often plan fun little games for your family to solve before Boxing Day. However, things have taken a turn this year as never would you and your friendly neighbour Kevin imagined that the both of you would actually have to solve a decades-old murder case, and eventually finding out the culprit behind all of this was someone much closer than you have expected.

PAIRING: neighbour!Kevin x f!reader

GENRE: horror, thriller, supernatural, crime, angst, some fluff

WARNINGS: nc-17, mentions about dead bodies & severed body parts (nothing too gory though dw!!), missing person case, haunted house, mentions of blood, supernatural (ghosts, black mass), yn's descriptive nightmare (about the ghost-like character she would often see in the past), kissing, betrayal, dual personalities, pet names (sweetheart, princess)

WORD COUNT: 4,465

A/N: so this was supposed to be released on the 25th....but we will pretend that never happened 🫡 massive thankiew to @from-izzy for beta reading and giving me tons of ideas (and just giving me the support bcs i was so done and upset with everything bjasnjsdn) tagging the kevin enthusiast aka @hyungseos-cafe for this 👀✨

“Sissy, wake up!” 

You were jolted awake by your little brother, who was violently shaking your entire body as you groaned in annoyance and lifted your bedsheets above your head in hopes that he would leave you alone. But you have forgotten that he was a wild and energetic fourteen-year-old teenager, and there was no way he was giving up that easily. 

As your brother pulled your bedsheet off you, your eyes squinted, and you were about to curse at him out loud before he eventually beat you to it.

“It’s Christmas Eve, sissy! Uncle Ben has already left a note on the dining table, and we must start before the clock strikes midnight!” Your brother announced out loud before running out of your room back to the living room downstairs. 

You sighed before pinching your eyebrows together, trying to make sense of your surroundings and what your brother had told you moments before. 

It was that time of the year for your annual family tradition. Your uncle has always been into supernatural and playing detective. He would often devise a different scenario where he would get you and your siblings to solve the puzzles or cases before you would eventually earn a Christmas present from him. He had a different scenario in mind every year and was full of ideas to ensure each year stood out. 

Not only were your siblings encouraged to participate in the hunt, but he would also get your neighbour next door to experience every year, and he had done so for the past decade. 

Your best friend, Kevin Moon. 

It was a joy to have him aboard, especially when he had the wits and brains to help crack and solve most puzzle pieces or clues in your uncle’s little game each year. Because of that, your uncle has taken a liking to him, eventually pairing you guys up, often thinking that you both would end up great as a couple. 

Which isn’t something you were totally against if you were to be completely honest. 

You liked him a lot, and he has been your best friend throughout middle school up till university. He has always been someone you could always count on and gave you the support you needed. 

You just weren’t sure if you liked him more than just a friend at this point. 

Trying to shake away all of the unnecessary thoughts, you quickly rushed down to your dining hall to find the letter that your uncle always left on the table the night before when all of you were asleep. However, you froze as you saw that your brother was already holding one in his hands, reading it internally while another was left on the table. 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that uncle made two separate invitation cards and that on the table is specifically just for you and Kevin-hyung next door,” your brother said half-heartedly before he walked out with his invitation, getting ready to get all geared up before heading out the door. You suspected Uncle Ben had probably given him some scavenger hunt games again, given the looks of your brother’s outfit and the big shovel he had just brought out the door seconds ago.

As you diverted your attention back to the invitation card on the table, you slowly picked it up before opening the envelope and pulling up the letter tucked within. 

Oh, Uncle Ben, what exactly have you plotted for us this Christmas?

“Your uncle must be nuts going all out for Christmas this year. He must’ve been itching to get this year’s theme out as soon as possible, don’t you think?” Kevin questioned you while chuckling at the side, trying his best to hide his uneasiness. 

But that was when you didn’t respond and quietly began looking for clues; that was when Kevin knew that it probably wasn’t a joke this time. 

“There’s no actual dead bodies, right, Y/N?” 

When you quickly skimmed through the entire letter, your eyes widened at the envelope's contents. You wasted no time and hurriedly scurried out the door to Kevin right next door. With a few knocks, your best friend was out with a hot mug of cocoa, with his hair slightly ruffled, indicating that he had just woken up not too long ago. His eyes widened as he did not expect you to be on his doorstep this early in the day, and he was a bit embarrassed with how he looked. 

Deep down, you wanted to tell him how he looked absolutely adorable and how you would snuggle up on the couch with him for the holiday seasons, but there was no way you would admit you had a crush on him just yet. 

Shaking off your initial thoughts, you quickly redirect your attention back to the envelope, trying to fill Kevin in with all your uncle wrote on the invitation. He had the same initial response that you had, thinking that this was all some sort of sick joke. All while he was getting ready by changing his pyjamas into a cosy sweater sufficient to last till the destination, you couldn’t help but spare a few glances back at him a few times to take a sneaky little peak at his toned body.

He worked really hard during the summer anyway, and you have seen how he basically went from being all skinny and slim to being toned and bulky within the span of half a year, and you couldn’t stop ogling at the sight whenever you saw a little skin from him. 

But again, you would not admit that to him just yet. 

As soon as he was ready to go, you both took the pathway down to the written location as the sky quickly turned dark due to the winter season. By the time you both arrived at the entrance of the abandoned house, you needed to grab the torchlight hidden within your sweater and turn it on to navigate the place. 

As you both opened the front door with an awful creak, you were met with nothing but complete darkness. The power lights were completely cut off so there was no chance of even having a little bit of electricity within the premises. 

There was this eerie feeling in the air that neither of you could describe; it almost felt like a little haunted house, as much as you did not want to admit it. But given the details that Uncle Ben has written in the envelope, that spooky and sinister feeling you’ve had was valid, and it would probably remain this way until the both of you could crack the case open. 

“To answer your question, Kevin, I really hope we won’t be stumbling upon any dead bodies too. It’s the Christmas holidays, goddamit,” you spat, still thinking that Uncle Ben was totally out of his mind with this whole dilemma that was going on right now. 

“Well, we’ve lived in this neighbour for a good decade now, and never in my life have I heard about a Madam Nee Nee residing in a house right at the end of the road and was actually murdered without a trace,” Kevin replied worriedly, thinking that this whole situation is slowly getting much creepier by the minute.

As much as you wanted to agree with the male, you have heard something or two about Madam Nee Nee through your uncle’s stories. All you knew about her was that she was the one who would often bake cupcakes for the children across the streets and would pass them to Uncle Ben so that all of you were able to get your hands on them every Christmas. 

Those cupcakes were indeed one of the best you have ever tried in your entire life; they were not too sweet and were just enough to fit everyone’s liking and taste buds. It seemed as if Madam Nee Nee knew exactly what each child’s favourite television show was as she would make an effort to pipe and decorate each cupcake exactly as each character looked. You would often get your favourite Tinker Bell design, and she would alternate between the different fairies each year, while your younger brother often got his favourite DC superheroes. 

But there was only one problem: you had actually never met the baker herself, and each time you tried to bring it up, your Uncle Ben would often tell you that she was too busy delivering the goodies to the other children out of town. 

In other words, you didn’t really know if you could trust Uncle Ben’s words on whether such an individual really existed and if this whole murder case was actually a reality or not. 

Regardless, you were not going to get anywhere if neither of you was going to make progress in solving the riddles that your uncle had made specifically for you two, adding onto the fact that you really did want to get your hands on the presents as your uncle always knew exactly what you liked. 

Hence, you and Kevin moved forward and deeper into the house as you both tried to see where or what could potentially help you both get a kick start on the investigation. Suddenly, the doors behind you both slammed shut with a loud thud, and you both were now in complete darkness, heavily relying on the torchlight you brought to navigate the house. 

“We’re really doing this right, Y/N?” Kevin asked as he grabbed your wrist to drag you closer to him, making sure that you both stuck together, especially in the given circumstances. Not going to lie, your heart skipped a beat with that sudden gesture of his, and you prayed that he was unable to hear that loud thumping noise coming from your chest, given how silent the whole place was, to the point that you were able to hear a pin drop if there ever was one. 

“Y-Yeah… to face Uncle Ben and get our hands on the gift. And besides, we could always have a little fun mystery for the holiday season.”

After ten minutes, you both arrived at the house's second floor. You both tried your best to scavenge through the bottom floor, but there wasn’t much you found that could potentially help with the investigation. 

So here you both were, slowly taking your steps up the old wooden stairs that creaked with every single step, making the uncomfortable feeling you have had since stepping into the house a lot worse than before. 

Thankfully, Kevin stuck close to you and took the lead in front, where you naturally held onto his sweater from behind, which caused him to turn behind for a second and offer his hand to you instead. You stared at him blankly at first, blinking your eyes a few times to see if you weren’t hallucinating, but he eventually linked his hands with yours and pulled you slightly forward. 

You were thankful that the electricity was out in the entire house, and Kevin held onto the torchlight and shone the pathway in front of him instead; you definitely did not need the male to know how red and flushed your face was right now. 

As you both moved forward, you eventually stepped onto something firm and hard, causing you to stop in your tracks, nudging Kevin’s elbow to shine the light directly onto your feet. 

You truly wished you hadn’t done that at all.

A severed hand was situated right below your new pair of white shoes, and a little blood splatter was visible around the corners of your shoes. You immediately screamed and took a little jump back, causing you to cower into Kevin’s arms immediately. His eyes widened at the sight, and he tried his best to calm you down by rubbing your back with one of his hands while the other continued to shine the torchlight all around the room. 

And there it was: another severed hand, located close to what used to be the fireplace. 

“Th-This must be a joke…” Kevin muttered, not wanting to accept reality and thinking, ‘this was all a dream.’

It couldn’t be real. 

There haven’t been any reported murder cases around town for the last thirty years. In fact, your town has been regarded as one of the safest in the state for the past decades, and it is also known as the best town to reside in. Whatever situation you both were in now must be wholly made up by your uncle, who was always full of surprises.

…right? 

That was until Kevin redirected the light source towards the fireplace above, where there were clearly a few picture frames damaged through time or by someone. As you both began moving closer to examine them, you noticed they all had one thing in common. 

All of them had the same person cut out from the pictures themselves. 

Three picture frames stood above the fireplace, each depicting a family of five smiling brightly as if the world was free from all sorts of nightmares and misery. At least it was before. Something must have happened for whoever removed the person in question from the pictures—perhaps it must’ve been a bad memory for them, or that person is probably no longer associated with them. 

You slowly moved close enough for you to be able to examine it well, gently wiping off the dust from each frame with your thumbs to see who exactly was the family in the old pictures. You didn’t recognise them at first until you squinted your eyes and saw the famous signature on the bottom right of each frame. 

It belonged to the Jamaisons; the very first family that moved into this town many years ago. 

From what you have heard about the tales from your uncle, they were the ones to be grateful for as they built up and raised the town's reputation as it is known today. Their family have since then lived for generations, constantly passing down their legacy for years until the last heir passed on without a successor ten years ago. 

As everyone has been told, the very first generation of the Jamaisons was a family of four: a dotting father, a loving mother, and a set of twins. But then, who was the mysterious missing cut-out person from the pictures? Did they have another sibling they have kept secret for years, and nobody knew about them? And if yes, why did they do that? 

Countless questions are pondered within your mind, and you can’t help but want to dig much deeper to discover the truth. 

“Kevin…how much do you know about the Jamaisons?”

“As much as they have taught us in the textbooks. Why?”

“I have a bad feeling about this…” You muttered, slowly showing and telling Kevin about the missing person from each picture. 

His eyes widened too, and you could tell he had the same thoughts as you.

“You don’t mean…”

“I really hope it isn’t true. Why would Uncle Ben even want us to meddle with their history if it was? Does he think we were detectives that could solve a potential murder case that was decades old?” You questioned, tugging his arm around you even tighter. 

He pondered for a bit before answering. “Why not? I have always wanted to go to an actual crime scene.”

“Kevin Moon, this is serious,” you firmly reminded him. 

He sighed before giving you a little smile back. “I know, Y/N. Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out then.” 

Along with your friendly little neighbour, you both begin scouring through the bookshelves, hoping to find any potential records that could prove that they had someone else in the original line-up of the family. 

However, all of your luck was pointless as there was zero to no evidence proving that the missing person from the pictures existed. It was as if the family themselves had erased whoever it was to the best of their abilities. 

You groaned as you ran your fingers through your hair. “Ugh, I guess we’re back at square one again.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you,” Kevin responded, which caused you to turn your head towards him to see that he was pointing towards the empty room across the room, where the door slowly creaked open.

You were sure that the doors were closed tight when you both made your way up an hour ago, and now you were witnessing the door slowly pry open by seemingly nothing. 

Oh hell, there is no way ghosts are real. 

“Do not say the g-word, I swear,” you immediately placed one of your fingers directly onto Kevin’s lips, preventing him from saying it out loud. 

“Not until we go check it, Y/N.”

“Can we just…not…”

“I think you know what the answer to that is.” 

You rolled your eyeballs at Kevin’s words; you knew there was no way you both were leaving this place until you found the answers to the case. Without a choice, you reluctantly allowed Kevin to drag you along step-by-step as you both got closer towards the room.

If you were in an actual horror movie, you were pretty sure there would be creepy and high-pitched violin sounds playing in the background right now. The siren by your ear was beginning to resonate aloud, causing you to have a slight headache while you were trying your best not to shit your pants at this point.

As you were a step right before entering the room, your grip against Kevin’s arm tightened, giving him the signal that you were having second thoughts and would gladly dash right out of the house right now. But he returned a little rub on your palms with his, telling you that everything would be alright and that he was here with you. 

With one final gulp and nod, you both took that long-awaited step into the room, when you were met with your worst nightmare. 

You have never told anyone about how your deepest and darkest fear was about how you once had this dream where a black mass consisted of a white face with a lipped mouth paired with large black eyes used to lurk at the corners of your room watching you sleep. You eventually got terrified to the point that you would think about it all day, which then interfered with your daily routine. 

And it was the same nightmare that stood right in front of you, slowly expanding as it crept nearer towards you both as if it was going to swallow you up as a whole. 

“No…please don’t…” You whimpered. 

Before you could even think straight, the huge mass eventually engulfed Kevin, and he was gone within a second. Just like that, the mass turned in your direction, approaching you slowly as you took a few steps back each time. 

With one final huff from the mass, it quickly expanded one last time before jumping right onto you, slowly dissolving your entire body and turning it into the mass just like it was. 

You were helpless, and you eventually felt your entire body go numb as if it was all over and done for. 

Before you were taken over by darkness, you slowly peered your eyes upon the doors, noticing a bright white figure approaching you before everything was a blur.

“Sissy! SISSY WAKE UP!!”

You immediately jolted awake with that scream coming from the side of your ear, drenched in sweat, and your eyes widened as you tried to calm your fast breathing down.

“Whatever the nightmare you have been having since last night, it must have been a wild one I must say,” your brother responded as he slowly grabbed a cloth to wipe your sweat away. 

“N-Nightmare? What are you talking about?”

“Do you really not remember anything at all? You have been sleeping for the entire day yesterday! You have been tossing and turning in your sleep, mumbling incoherent words as you broke out in sweat.”

What? That can’t be. 

You slowly looked down to see your hands trembling before moving them to your face, trying to take in everything your brother had just told you.

“What about the scavenger hunt, then?” 

“Scavenger hunt? You mean Uncle Ben’s?”

“Y-Yeah…what happened to it?”

“Well, you were in bed for the entire day and wouldn’t wake up, so you actually missed the whole thing,” he bluntly replied. 

That can’t be true. You remembered walking down to the kitchen table and grabbing the envelope placed neatly on the dining table, which shocked you as you read the contents. 

“Uncle Ben came up to check on you, though; he said it was fine to let you continue to sleep since you were probably exhausted with finals.”

No…this is just not making sense at all.

Wait.

“Kevin! Where’s Kevin?!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as you grabbed your brother’s shoulders, shaking them vigorously. 

Your brother stared at you as if a ghost had possessed you because the next thing that happened was that you immediately jumped out from your bed and dashed towards the front door. 

You speed ran through your open gates right towards your neighbour’s front porch, banging on the door, not caring if you were creating a scene. You needed to know if he was doing alright and in one piece. 

After a few seconds, the doorknob eventually turned and the door was opened. There stood your best friend, exactly like he was the day before when you went up to him to talk about the strange envelope Uncle Ben had left specifically just for you both. 

Well, supposedly, at least. 

It wasn’t unusual for you to come banging at Kevin’s door in the middle of the day, as you have done it multiple times. What he did not expect was that you would immediately dive into his embrace and begin sobbing into his sweater. 

“Y-Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” 

You couldn’t even give him a proper answer as your tears poured profusely. You were glad to see that he was fine, still in one piece and unharmed. 

“Thank God…THANK GOD KEVIN!!!!” 

You were not budging an inch, and Kevin only did what he knew was best at the moment, returning the hug and slowly caressing your back as if to calm you down. He eventually rested his lips on your head, leaving you little kiss. 

After what seemed like a couple of minutes resting in his embrace, you eventually pulled away and cupped his face with your palms, gently caressing his cheek as you looked at him lovingly. 

“Kevin…promise me…you’re never leaving my sight again.”

He chuckled. “Why would I? Y/N, you know I would never—”

“Please, a little pinky promise?” You begged, and Kevin could never resist that little puppy doe eyes you have. 

He smiled before he eventually leaned down and connected your lips with his. Your eyes widened upon the contact before you eventually eased into the kiss seconds later, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. 

When you both eventually broke off for some air, there was this surge of adrenaline within you, and you felt your face heat up quickly, causing you to duck your head down as you cupped both cheeks to cover up the redness away from the man. 

Kevin could only laugh at that little sight. “Come on, Y/N. It’s not like I have not seen your iconic red-flushed-tomato-like face before.” 

“It’s not iconic, and whatever that was wasn’t necessary at all,” you pouted.

He took a few moments just admiring how you looked before leaning down and resting his palm on your head. “That kiss is a promise that I’ll always be yours.” 

“Even stronger than a pinky promise?”

“Absolutely.” 

With that, you reconnected your lips with his warm ones again, trying to savour them as best as possible before leaning your forehead against his. 

“Oh, Kevin. You truly are the best thing that has happened to me during Christmas this year.”

“Am I supposed to be flattered by that?” He teased. 

You sulked for a bit before slapping him on the arm. “Obviously, silly.” 

With a deep huff, you stretched out your arms before wrapping them back around Kevin’s arm, trying to drag him out of his house and head straight towards yours instead for a cup of hot cocoa.

“Say, why don’t we go find Uncle Ben? I’m sure he might have some other tricks to keep us occupied until unboxing night.” 

As you tried your best to pull Kevin with you, you were stunned by him standing still at the front of your doorstep, staring at you with a straight face. 

“Kevin? Is everything alright?” 

There was this odd ten-second silence before Kevin eventually spoke up, which actually sent chills down your spine.

“I’m afraid that Uncle Ben will not be coming anytime soon, sweetheart.” 

Within a swift motion, Kevin pulled you vigorously back into his embrace, locking you tight with his arms. You then noticed how his demeanour began to change and was completely different from before. 

You began to panic, shivering even, as you looked into his now-turning hollow eyes. 

“W-What are you talking about?”

“That little nightmare you had was a reality, princess. Your little Uncle Ben has been trying his best to warn you all these years, and who would’ve thought he would actually get you to head towards the murder site yourself to crack open the case.”

“K-Kevin…you’re scaring me…” you began pushing yourself away, but it seemed that his grip had then gotten a lot tighter, which was when you began to feel the pain that was slowly travelling across your whole body. 

“Let me tell you a little story, Y/N. A long time ago, a certain group used to think Christmas was all sparkly and bright. But what if I told you that things would never be the same? That the people around them now think that Christmas is a nightmare. After all, a sparkly Christmas can only happen if there is a drop of blood, right? I think that’s enough for you to figure things out, no?”

It was. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you knew exactly what he meant. 

Not only was Kevin your Christmas, but he was also your Nightmare. 

Just like that, he slowly began leaning down as he pushed your hair on your shoulders towards the other side, leaving a clear opening for him to start rubbing your sensitive skin as he leaned down slowly to the point that his lips brushed against them.

“From now on, I’ll always be your Nightmare Before Christmas.”

A/N: a lil belated spooky Christmas to yall 😚

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @zzoguri @kyusqult @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction @lngwayup @hyungseos-cafe (join my permanent taglist here!)

[the-flower-named-fire]

The Queen and the Mistress

That is a classical

Add Half-Siblings angst and its pure drama

The Mistress could be just a Second Wife, with a Divorced or Deceased First Wife

I said that before, having a child from a person you love and a child from a person you hate is just recipe for family desaster

There is so many stuff you can include:

The age order (if the Mistress had children first, this may be a problem), the number and the gender of the kids each woman has

Inheritance issues

Powers inherited by bloodline

The mothers's families and their intentions

One wanting to 'get rid' of the other

The husband wanting to divorce his wife or just doing it.

The Mistress's status. Her begin a noble or a commoner changes a lot. The Queen and the Mistress can even be sisters. The Mistress could be married to another man

Which one of the two held the power? The Queen could be the Rulling Queen and the King a Consort. The Mistress could have more political power than the Queen

Which one is considered the 'Good One' in the plot? In that way you can have

Forbidden Lovers and the Evil Queen trying to break their love

The poor Queen trapped in a arranged marriage and her husband humiliates her by having a affair

The commoner Mistress, begin used by the King then throw away. The man abandoning the commoner woman he was a relationship for years for a 'better and noble woman'

The dude is a double asshole, both ladies deserved better

And there is the children to consider too

The bastard child is begin given any position of power? Keep around as a servant? Send away from their own protection? Killed? Locked up in isolation?

In the case of divorce, what will happen with the children from his first marriage? Locked up? Killed? Ignored?

A child of the 'evil' mother could still be good. The opposite also.

The stepparent now attempt to control their heir child because of their power

The Mistress might have her own children too. So a 'Mine, Your and Ours' situation?

Perhaps the concept of 'bastard' don't exist and they can inherit just fine

It can be more than just one Mistress or Wife, pull a Henry VIII, go big or go home

It can involve Murder. The wife might well just straight up kill both, or everyone really. Just see Medea, Jason and Glauce

The second lady's relationships with both the public and the other people from the household.

And I have seen one with gender bending. It was kinda off 'Queen and Her Lover' then? Really interesting. She had to send their (bastard) child away in hiding

A woman having bastards and a man having bastards will be different in the plot for obvious reasons

It ended end with them killing the King and the Lover (who was some sort of Lord?) usurped his throne, the King's daughter wanted revenge.

[mandomaterial]

Forgotten pt.6

Pairing: Tonowari x Metkayina!reader

Wordcount: 3.4K

Warnings: slightly feral mc, needles, humans, and i think that’s it. Maybe a little angst?

Notes: sorry that this took so long- i had a little bitta writers block… but i think this is a nice chapter btw the new guy is an oc so he isn’t in the avatar franchise :3 please leave some suggestions about what should happen to the reader.and ill try to update every week or so! Pics not mine, credit to the owners!

Masterlist /// Previous /// Next

Over the next few days the young human boy, Spider visited you every day. The two of you talked about anything and everything, it was very comforting to have someone around that spoke your language.

You were curious about him, so you asked lots of intricate questions. Why was he here? What’s his connection to the forest Na’vi? How did he speak your language so well, he even had a forest accent.

He answered most of them with enthusiasm. Telling you the story of him spending a lot of time with the sully kids and growing up in the Omatikaya clan, being there for all the events and learning their ways.

Spider explained that his father had been killed by Jake Sully's mate, Neytiri, in the first sky people war, but scientists had made an avatar for him a few years ago and inserted a chip that had a copy of his father's mind on it. You truly struggled to grasp the concept so he tried to explain it like he was reborn into the new avatar body after his death, when he died, but he was already twenty years old; you understood better but it still confused you at times.

Spider also tried asking you simple questions first and when you answered all of them he started coming out of his shell; starting to ask bolder questions. He asked about your family and your life as tsakìk of the Metkayina. How was your life different from the forest people’s? What were the animals like? What did you eat?

You happily started telling him stories of the metkayina traditions and the Iknimaya, where you had to bond with a tsurak and complete several trials with your spirit sibling to earn your place amongst the people. Even telling him that you struggled immensely when you had to bond with the wild beast and that you preferred the tasks with your spirit sister a lot more.

You told him many stories about you and your sister, Ronal, when you were training to become tsahìk; how much trouble you’d get yourself in with her, doing whatever teenagers did. Your favorite ones though were the ones where she’d cover for you when you snuck away with the handsome, brave, and charming young man you’d had a crush on; once you’d gotten caught with him past your curfew and your father threatened him for at least half an hour and scared him half to death. You giggled as you remembered. You continued that that boy was now your mate and father of your children.

He in return asked about your children, being curious about them. Starting with your eldest, your son A'onung, you described him as a brave troublemaker; he always hung out with his friends and was very caring toward his sister, even if he didn’t like showing it. A'onung loved his spirit brother as well and they’d spend a lot of time together once the tulkun returned.

Spider continued asking about your daughter; Tsireya. You started by telling him that she was a truly good-hearted and beautiful young lady who loved dancing and performing. She’s always be a performer when the tribe held celebrations or spiritual rituals. From time to time, you would teach her how to prepare medical remedies or how to lead sacred rituals. She was growing up so quickly and from what you’d seen, she had her eye on the youngest sully boy; Lo'ak.

Once you said that spider instantly asked how the sully's were doing. It didn’t surprise you, after all, they were kind of his family. You thought about it for a few seconds and then decided to tell him about how Lo'ak and A'onung went outside the reef. You’d never been so angry at A'onung in your life! Leading the poor boy out and stranding him there; who knows what could have happened? But after that little stunt, the boys seemed to get along better- even going as far as to say that they had become friends.

Next was the story about how Jake learned to ride a tsurak. It took a while because he didn’t want to start with an ilu; it would have hurt his pride too much. You both giggled. Jake had tried to tie his hand to the saddle grip but even that failed and he was left with some nasty leather burns. Spider confirmed that to Jake, like all men, his pride was one of the most important things.

Neytiri was a skilled warrior; so she decided to join the hunters. At first, she was just tasked with catching fish, but she wanted to hunt something bigger. So she forcefully made her place known amongst the others when she came back with a quite large deep-sea creature.

Spider and you talked for hours upon hours almost every day until you sent him off to bed. Then you were let alone in the dark room, having no items of comfort to keep you company. You thought about asking Spider for a few things, but you didn’t want to get him in trouble so you kept your lips sealed.

In the dark, the only thing that plagued your mind was your old life. The life you had just a little while ago. Oh how you wished you could return; not even getting the chance to tell your mate that you were with child again. What would happen if you didn’t return? How would you return? Your heart clenched and you placed your hand on your lower abdomen gently, hoping to comfort yourself and your baby as you tried to sleep.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After you had sent Spider away, he decided to go talk to his father again. He’d seen how miserable you were in that tiny cell; you’d always curl up in a corner, trying to keep warm in the night. His mind was troubled with thoughts and just as he turned the corner to his father’s quarters, he bumped into someone. He looked up, wanting to apologize, and saw the familiar figure.

“Whatcha' doin' here kid?” Quaritch questioned while placing his hands on his hips, cocking his head to the side, and giving his son a questioning look.

“Uh- well… I wanted to talk to you,” he answered, “about the different room…”

Spider awkwardly moved his arms from side to side, looking away, not knowing what to do.

“Heh- I was just about to tell you the news,” he chuckled “I talked to some people and uuuh- told them to move her closer so that I can ‘keep an eye on her’” his fingers did little air quotes as he said it with a light mocking tone in his voice.

Spider's eyes lit up just a bit and he gave his father a genuine smile “Thanks Dad”

“No problem, kiddo” Quaritch sighed, a good feeling bubbling inside him at the thought of making his son happy; truly a strange feeling. He watched as Spider shuffled away, looking over his shoulder back at him, once or twice, cracking a smile as he turned the corner.

Spider had a little spring in his step; he couldn’t wait to tell you tomorrow! He continued thinking about what else he could do to bring you comfort. Maybe he’d ask what your favorite food was and get it when he joined his father on a mission again or he could ask if you’d like to do something like weaving or seeing, he could easily find the materials for that.

He finally wanted to see you smile; he wanted to see you happy for a change.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The morning came and you were blinded by the bright light flickering on in the cell; same as ever. You tried to shield your eyes by covering them with your arm, trying to get a little more rest. Just then a wave of despair washed over you. You wanted to go home; you wanted to return to your family; to your children.

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over the edge and rolling down your cheeks. You tried rubbing them away but that only man’s it worse; all your locked-up feelings spilled over. Sitting up you curled up against the wall, not knowing what to do. Would they ever let you go? Would you have to stay in this horrible room forever? These thoughts made your heart crack and crumble. You tried so hard to stay strong; for yourself and the little life growing within your body, but it was all for nothing. Nothing had changed and you don’t even know for how long you’d been kept here. Too long. Something needed to change.

Suddenly your anguish turned to anger; it was like a feral beast woke inside you. Pushing yourself up to your feet you, took a few steps around the room, observing it once more like the thousands of times you’d done before, your tails swishing dangerously behind you. The room had one wall that looked different, similar to the water, you could see your reflection. It was so clear and you’d never seen something like it before. There had to be a reason why it was there. Could something be behind it? You couldn’t know for sure but as you walked closer and closer, you’d started bearing your fangs and claws. Just like that, you charged against the wall, banging your fists on it.

Little sounds came from behind the wall. Hah- so there was something there and you’d given it quite a scare. You continued, trying to get more reactions from the thing that hid behind the wall. This went on for quite a while until you heard the mechanical door open. Thinking it was the human boy, you lowered your guard. Big mistake. Six human soldiers came in and you started hissing again, taking a defensive stance. They walked over with hurried steps, taking your personal space. As one tried to touch you you pushed him away, sending him flying across the room. The others made quick pace and tried binding your wrists. You were busy shoving off two humans as a third grabbed your arm and fastened the orange cuff. Knowing what would come next you tried to get them all off you, never holding your hands close in fear of them being bound again.

It was no use, soon someone grabbed your second arm and pulled it behind your back, forcing the second cuff around your wrist, locking them together. You yelled and screamed as you tried to escape their clutches only to feel a sharp sting on the side of your neck. Suddenly you felt ever so drowsy, your eyes closing as if you had no control over them. Sinking to the floor, calming down you saw that the humans circled around you, talking. Then your eyelids fell shut and you lost consciousness.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As soon as you had lost consciousness the soldiers calmed down. “So uh- what are we supposed to do with her now?” one asked. “They told us to just knock her out before something happens- wait a sec il call someone.” another answered. While he talked the others observed you. You looked different from the recoms; you were a lighter color and had a different body. They all looked at you weirdly, one even nudging you with their foot until they heard their colleague hang up the phone.

“I asked around and the lab rats said that they wanna have her, so I guess we’ll bring her there,” he claimed while shrugging his shoulders. “You two, go get a cart to load her up. I ain’t carrying that thing.”

Just as told, two left and came back a few minutes later with some sort of transportation device. They parked it next to you and awkwardly tried to lift you onto it. Finally, they managed by holding you under your arms and dragging you over the rough surface, scratching your back as they did so. When you were finally on the cart the first man turned around and motioned for the others to follow him. It wasn’t long until the group reached the large metal door that closed off the science lab from the outside.

One of the soldiers went up to the touchpad, silently punching in the code to make the door open. The cart wasn’t pushed in first, being followed by the other men. They’d not been here often and this place always put them on edge, for they didn’t know what would happen. Your turquoise skin glistened under the fluorescent lights of the lab, pulling all the attention towards you.

Just then a tall scientist in a pristine long white lab coat came into view.

The head scientist rubbed his hands together with glee as he looked at the unconscious Na'vi. "This is it," he said, his voice filled with excitement. "This is what we've been waiting for.” he looked around the little crowd of soldiers “Thanks for bringing her here, dismissed.”

They all gave him a little salute, turning to walk out again, but the last one of the group gave the scientists a dirty look. They shouldn’t be taking orders from a nerdy lab rat, he scoffed silently.

The man was still standing over you, inspecting your physical form. You’d been the first Na’vi of a different species to enter his workspace and he was definitely looking forward to running some tests, so he told his team to help him put you on one of the large examination tables. It took quite a few people but once up there they began checking your vitals.

As the head scientist listened for your heartbeat, he heard his name being called out.

“Dr. Matthew! A call just came in and General Ardmore is on her way to the lab to discuss something.” The younger scientist shouted as she ran over to the table. Dr. Matthew rose to his full height, placing the stethoscope to the side, and smoothing out his lab coat. “Did the general say what she wanted to discuss?” He asked with a bitter tone in his voice. He didn’t like when people messed with his work or gave him instructions on how and what to research. He didn’t become a top scientist only to be given orders by someone who doesn’t even understand his work.

“N-no… she didn’t specify…” the young woman said. Matthew noticed that she wasn’t on his usual team and she had a short lab coat, which meant that she was still studying. Could she be an intern? He thought to himself. So he skied “I haven’t seen you here a lot, are you an intern?”

“Oh- y-yea I just transferred from communications… seems they put me in the wrong unit when I came here.” She stuttered, avoiding eye contact with the experienced lab leader.

He hummed in response, walking past her to greet the general at the door. Just as he unlocked it he could see the frightening woman turn the corner. Putting his hands on his hips and slapping a smile on his face, he called out to her.

“General Ardmore! How nice of you to visit my lab. Can I help you with anything?” He asked with a smirk glued to his face, a slightly annoyed tone in his voice.

“I just got the news that the new specimen was delivered to you. What’s that about, I thought I told them to keep her in her cell,” she replied sternly.

The doctor sighed “Look, she went feral for a sec there and they asked me if I wanted her. Of course, I said yes! Do you know what we could do with her? We can sample her DNA and grow new avatars that are adaptable to water? And- there’s such a difference in species. You should see her- she, she looks completely different! Different body structure and everything!” he started rambling, clearly excited about the new discoveries he was going to make.

“Listen, I don’t care about all your sciency stuff alright? I need to make sure that we meet our clients' demands and that you don’t spend all your time and resources on your silly little avatar program. That feral beast belongs dead- six feet under! What are you going to do when she wakes up and goes wild again huh?” She prodded. To be honest, Dr. Matthew hadn’t thought about that, so he quickly tried to come up with something.

“Uhhh- uh well give her sedatives! Make sure she stays calm. But then again…” he started thinking.

“But then she won't be able to cooperate.” She finished for him.

“Yea… that…” he raised his hand to his chin and thought for a bit “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out”

The general sighed and looked around the lab, seeming just the tiniest bit of you, laying on the table, motionless.

“You better, and don’t spend all your time on that thing. You hear me, doctor?”

“Yes ma’am. Will do.”

“Good. I'll leave you to it. I'll check in now and then to keep an eye on you understand?”

“All clear.” He followed up with a little two-finger salute as she turned on her heels and walked off, not looking back even once. Matthew let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding, relieved that he managed to get her off his back. Even this was one of the more gentle encounters he had with her. Tough woman.

He walked past the open lab doors once more, closer to you. Someone handed him a checkboard that had all your vitals on it. What an efficient team he had. He looked over it with care, checking for anything abnormal but everything seemed fine. His eyes slowly shifted from the paper to your unconscious form. You were so mysterious and he had never wanted to examine something this much before. He had grown up, learning about the Pandora project and the Avatar program. He read all the books and studied hard just to be here, and now he was the first to see a new species of the indigenous people of the foreign planet. He was just itching to start running tests.

But he didn’t know where to start. What should he do first? He ran a hand through his hair, hoping t come up with a plan. In the end, he decided it was best to start fresh tomorrow. He made sure that the sedative was dosed correctly so that you wouldn’t wake up for at least another day. Then he told his team to hit the hay and get some rest. After all, tomorrow he needed them to be sharp as a knife, as they would start their examinations.

He himself was the last to leave, taking one last look and finally locking up the lab. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow, but first, he had all night to organize his plans for you. Oh, how exciting!

[eternallytxt]

RED LISTED || Chapter 1

Author: Eros

Warnings and themes: futuristic au, dystopian au, non-idol au, asshole!Johnny, female reader, blood, violence, cussing, some suggestive themes, angst, some fluff, featuring some other idols.

Words: 3500

Summary: In high-tech dystopian SoKo, the right to trial by court is obsolete. Instead, criminals are marked as Red-Listed in society. When your mother frames you for murder and you become Red-Listed, you're forced to live life on the streets and desperately evade law enforcement. In a turn of events, you meet Johnny, another framed criminal, and leader of a group of rebels fighting to get justice. Along with Johnny's seemingly cold and unempathetic exterior, he appears to hold secrets about your past. Will you be able to become closer to the temperamental leader, or will you be thrown back into the unforgiving city with no hope of clearing your name?

Playlist: Cyberpunk - ATEEZ, I Really Want to Stay at Your House - Rosa Walton, Villain - TRENDZ, GODS - NewJeans, Runaway (U&I) - Galantis, Odd Eye - Dreamcatcher, Ash - SEVENTEEN, Sayonara Wild Heart - Daniel Olsén

Author Note: Hi everyone. It's been years since I posted the teaser to Red Listed. I've decided that I want to try focusing on my creative writing more recently, so I've been going back through my old WIPs and working on them when I can.

I would also like to warn you that the updates will NOT BE SCHEDULED.

I hope you guys like Red Listed!

At this rate, you were going to be caught. You weren’t very athletic at all, and despite the adrenaline keeping your boots slapping the pavement, your lungs and muscles were screaming for mercy. It didn’t help that the wounds from the LAW officers’ light phasers were throbbing and making spots dance in your vision. You skidded around a corner, nearly colliding with a group of businessmen. The light bullets whizzing past your head were coming too close, and you instinctively duck your head as you barrel on through the mass of people.

It was times like this that you cursed your mother for what you had become. You had a normal life. You were a college student. The only things you had to worry about were catching the bullet trains and making sure your assignments were completed on time. When you walked into your house after class and saw that puddle of blood on the floor of your living room, none of that mattered anymore. Not when you screamed over your sister’s lifeless body. Not when your mom came in shortly after and accused you of taking a sibling squabble too far. None of it mattered when your mom pressed the emergency button and you took off running into the streets of Neo Chicago. All you had to worry about, now, was staying in the shadows and evading the LAW. 3 months later, It was working out fantastic.

The chase had led you to the west side of the city, and as you looked around, you noticed that upper-class civilians and familiar skyscrapers had dwindled. Scary-looking criminals in all black, half of them with the signature “RED-LISTED” lettering floating above their heads, peered at you from the sidewalks. They were probably pissed you brought the cops into their neighborhood. Just great, you thought. If you’re lucky enough to escape the officers hot on your trail, you’ll still need to worry about the criminals coming after you.

You rounded another corner, pumping your legs in hopes of giving you a headway from your pursuers so you could duck into an alley. And it worked. A look over your shoulder revealed only loiterers. You let out a short breathy ha! and faced forward. Your glee didn’t last for long.

Too quick to process, a hand grabbed the back of your shirt and yanked you into a dark alley. Before you could let out a scream, a hand slapped over your mouth and an arm went around your waist, pulling your back into a hard body. 

“Shh. Be quiet or they’ll hear you.” a male voice whispered in your ear. You felt a click and something sharp pierce your neck. The alley was immediately swallowed by darkness, the red glow from your “RED-LISTED” sign disappearing. 

You couldn’t move. The tight hand over your mouth prevented that. All you could do was listen to the blood rushing through your ears and your thoughts racing. You were going to be killed, or even worse. You were sure of that. One of the criminals you saw earlier had you in a tight hold, and you were too weak to fight back. 

“Stop struggling,” the voice hissed in your ear again.

On one hand, you could stop struggling and let this unknown assailant drag you away and have his way with you. On the other, you could try to break free, only to run right into the LAW’s hands. After weighing your options, you stopped struggling and relaxed into the guy’s hold. You would let this guy keep you, but as soon as the officers were out of sight, you would break free and escape.

Multiple rapid footsteps echoed in from the street, paired with yelling and radio beeps. You watched in disbelief as the officers ran past the alley opening, their footsteps fading out. After a moment, a sigh of relief escaped your mouth, misting your assailant’s hand. You managed to escape again, but how long would that last you?

“Be quiet. I’m going to see if they’re gone.” The hands never left your body, and you were dragged to the mouth of the alley. The assailant peered his head around the corner and looked down the street. From the minimal lighting, you could only see his side profile for a brief minute. A murmur of, “Good. They’re gone,” escaped his lips, and the tight hold on you was released.

You didn’t even hesitate before attempting to book it down the alley. Savior be damned. You only were able to make it a few steps before two arms wrapped tightly around your middle, a cry of pain leaving your lips and he pressed into the wound on your hip.

“Will you shut the fuck up! I’m trying to help!” You struggled desperately, only stopping when his hold tightened. Tears pricked your eyes, and only the sound of the two of you panting could be heard bouncing off the brick walls.

“Don’t run off.” his warning made you shiver, and you were soon let go. You dropped, wincing when your knees collided with the hard concrete. “Jesus. You’re insane, you know that?” A small light surrounded you, and you slowly brought your head up, only for your eyes to finally meet with your crouched assailant. 

From what you could see, he was fairly attractive. He was young, probably not much older than you, with medium-length, chestnut-brown fringe laying over his eyes. Plump lips sat in an annoyed scowl on his tanned face, glowing from the small light. He held a small, electro-lighter in his gloved fist, his cold sharp eyes narrowed at your figure.

“I was trying to get you from the cops and this is how you thank me? Running off and beating the shit out of me?” His voice was no longer in a whisper, but now an aggravated shout. You panted in response, unable to escape the tightness in your lungs and the pain from your injuries, which had now tripled.

“How was…I supposed to know…trying to help me?” This man had the audacity to call you insane when only moments ago, he had grabbed you like one of his kidnapping victims. How the hell were you supposed to react? The unknown man sighed and stood up, taking you aback at how tall he was. 

“What did you expect me to do? Walk out and be like ‘Hey, come here! Let me rescue you!’? Be pissed at me all you want, but I saved your ass. If it wasn’t for me, you would’ve been a bloody imprint on the road.” You tried to push yourself up but only managed to irritate your wounds further, making you collapse on your side. The man quickly dropped down beside you, pulling your arms from your abdomen and spitting out a “Shit.” All you could do was whimper pathetically, squeezing your eyelids shut when black spots danced in your vision. “Your wounds are severe. We need to get you help or you aren’t going to make it.” you cried out again when you felt arms slide under you and jerk you upwards, cradling you into his chest. As he took off down the alley, your vision went in and out of focus. You were only vaguely aware of the man’s hushed whispers. “You’re going to be fine. Don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall asleep.” Your eyes shut despite his pleas, the echo of his footsteps and words fading with your consciousness.

You were only able to get bits and pieces of the world outside of your unconscious state as you faded in and out. At one point, you thought maybe you were in a hospital. A harsh light penetrated through your eyelids, and a lot of muffled voices surrounded you, though you couldn’t make out what they were saying. The pain had gotten so immense at some point that you couldn’t feel anything anymore. You were probably dying. You hoped that it would just be done and over with soon.

When you fully came to, you couldn’t open your eyes. Your entire body felt heavy like only your gravitational pull had been kicked up. You simply lay there, taking in your sensory-deprived state. The steady beeping of a heart monitor filled the room as your hearing returned to you. 

When you mustered the strength to peel open your eyelids, you expected to be greeted by some sort of hospital room. Instead of white walls and a holo-flower vase by your bedside, grey, cinderblock walls surrounded you. The room was relatively dark, too. Probably due to the lack of the window. Despite this, It kind of looked like a normal room in a small clinic. Were you in some sort of basement?  I guess that guy sold me for parts. 

There wasn’t a soul around. Nothing but an empty chair in the corner of the room. Sitting and listening for a moment revealed the only sounds being the quiet beeping of the monitor to your left and your own heartbeat. No muffled voices outside the door, no steady hum of a security system keeping you locked in the room. Maybe you could escape. You looked at the IV tubes sticking out from your left arm and began yanking them out. You winced at the sting and waited for a moment for any sort of alarm to go off. Nothing. 

You hopped off the bed. It was now you noticed you were no longer wearing the torn and bloody clothes you last remember wearing. Instead, you were dressed in a nude-colored monochrome set, a sort of high-neck sports bra-like top that had a zipper in the middle, and skin-tight shorts that ended mid-thigh. The lack of covering allowed you to see the bandages that wrapped around your midriff and upper arms. Your feet were bare, allowing the coolness of the concrete beneath you to seep in.

You only made it a couple of steps toward the door before a voice resounded behind you, making you jump.

“You still need rest.” You wheeled around, to find a woman standing in the middle of the room. She seemed around your age, perhaps younger, with a pretty, slender face. Her skin was like porcelain, adding to her doll-like appearance. Light brown eyes stared back at you.

What the hell? You were sure that no one was in the room besides you. The only door out was the one you had just tried to escape from, so where–

“Please come back to the bed. In the meantime, I will alert Yuta, the doctor, that you are awake,” the woman spoke again. It was now that you noticed a slightly electronic lilt to her voice. Ah, she was an AI Holo. A very…interesting one, you might add. Most of the ones you've had the rare pleasure of seeing certainly weren’t as pretty looking as her. They definitely didn’t wear fashionable clothes, either. 

You remembered what she had said about “alerting” someone named Yuta, and you slightly panicked. “No! No, no, don’t do that,” you stepped towards her waving your hands. “I just…uhm…” The AI pursed her lips and said “You must have your vitals checked. Please have a seat. I have already alerted Yuta.”

Shit. Why the hell did this have to be difficult? Also, what kind of black market organ thieves have a Holo AI? As far as you saw it, you currently have two options.

The first was to take off running out the door. However, that had a ton of risk. You had no clue what lay beyond that door. For all you knew, the entire crew of criminals could be out there, gathered around some bucket full of organs they stole off of other people (you have to admit, your overly active imagination was a tad dramatic). The Holo AI said it alerted someone, and that person was most definitely on their way. They could spot you and chase after you. You were certainly in no condition to be running like a crazy person through a crime den.

The other option was to simply agree to the AI’s wishes and play along. To your annoyance, this was the option you would have to go with. Besides, you already feel the pain beginning to come back. With a hesitant side-eye towards the AI, you slowly climbed back into the bed.

“Can I ask who you are? Or where I am?” She seemed to straighten at this, and you could almost see her programmed script running through her head.

“I am WINTER. I am an AI Holo developed to assist with any task instructed to me. Currently, you are in the clinic room of the base.”

“Base? What base?” Before Winter could answer you, the door was thrust open, and in stepped a man who looked the farthest thing from a doctor. The man was clad in an all-black ensemble of jeans and a short-sleeved button-up with the top two buttons undone, allowing a sneak peek of tattoos on his neck and chest. More ink covered his arms, and if you had to guess, his entire body. Dark brown hair was pulled back into a loose bun to reveal a face with strong features. 

“That’s enough, Winter. You can go back to Ricky now,” The man spoke with a smirk and a shooing gesture toward the AI. Winter’s short, silver bob shimmered in the light as she bowed toward who you assumed was Yuta. She then turned toward you. “It was a pleasure to meet you,” she said, and with that, dissipated. 

There was a moment of silence as you actively avoided looking at Yuta, though you could feel his eyes on you. You wondered what he was waiting for. You didn’t necessarily get evil, organ-stealer vibes from the guy, but you were obviously hesitant nonetheless. 

You heard a sigh and he approached you, pulling out a tablet and tapping away. “So…You tried to make a break for it, huh?” You frowned. That damn snitch of an AI.

Yuta chuckled a bit at your expression. “What? You thought she wouldn’t tell me? Don’t worry, we aren’t trying to hurt you.” He swiped up on his tablet and a hologram of information appeared in the air between you two, your personal information.

“F/N L/N. 23 years old, Junior at SMCU, no body modifications. Currently at large for the murder of her younger sister,” He looked at you with an eyebrow cocked. You glared heavily at the man. How the hell did he have all of this info? You were starting to wonder if you were instead in a government prison. How else would he have all of your info?

“So what? You work for the LAW or something? Are you gonna kill me,” you bit. You were really starting to get fed up with all of this. The running, the judgemental glares, being treated like a criminal. All you did wrong was not escape from your mother's clutches. If you’d just cut her off the second you went to school, none of this would be happening.

Yuta smirked, a look that made you feel like a mouse caught by the cat. “Not at all, sweetheart. We’re all just like you.” The projection disappeared with a beep, and Yuta pocketed the tablet, finally settling his arms in a crossed position.

“So how did a smart little SMCU student end up becoming a cold-blooded killer?” 

“I didn’t do shit.”

“Relax, it was a joke. Of course, you didn’t. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Yuta smiled with his teeth this time, a more gentle expression than what he had previously shown you. You were honestly a little taken aback. He had one of those smiles that, if you had seen under any other circumstance, would’ve made your heart skip a beat.

“Where exactly is here?” Yuta now strolled over to your left side and began to fiddle with the monitors. There were a few minutes of silence as he pressed a couple of buttons on the machine. He tsked when he saw the IV tubes dangling. You watched as he dug a packaged IV needle out of a drawer nearby.

“You’re in our little hideout. Hold still for a second.” You winced as he inserted the IV needle in the top of your hand, taping it off and gesturing for you to lay back down in the bed. 

“We’re a group of false and small-time criminals, all of us considered rejects by the so-called ‘perfect’ society. Ex-cops, mercenaries, hackers, wrongly accused, you name it.”

He shined a small light in both of your eyes, then gave a satisfied hum. The tablet was pulled out once more and he tapped away.

“You were unfairly Red-Listed, correct?” Yuta glanced up at you and you nodded. “Then you’re just like us.”

You blinked back at him and he laughed a little, his pretty teeth making a reappearance. “Johnny brought you in here because he wants you to join us.”

Johnny. That was the first you heard that name. You could probably assume that he was the one that you had met. The asshole that yanked you around and make the whole kidnapping experience so… kidnap-ey. But, he was admittedly the one that also brought you to a doctor. Regardless of whether that doctor was legitimate or not.

“Hold on. I never agreed to join…whatever you guys are doing–”

“We’re trying to take down SoKo,” Yuta said. You laughed. When he didn’t laugh back and instead just stared at you with a steady expression, you stopped. 

“Oh my god, you’re serious. Yeah, absolutely not. Do you think I’m insane?” 

Yuta leaned back a little, hands going in his back pockets and a small smile appearing on his face. “Why is it so crazy? I mean, when has SoKo ever been a good thing? Well, besides for the big wigs making the fat stacks.”

You waved your hand, forgetting there was a needle in it which tugged a little and made you flinch. “No, I’m not talking about that. Of course SoKo is awful. Power to you guys who wanna take over the government and whatnot. I’m talking about me. I’m a normal freaking person. Not some,” you wracked your brain, “mercenary or whatever else you said.”

“You’re Red-Listed, right?”

“Well, yeah, but–”

“Then you’re one of us.”

You paused, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. “...But why me?”

Yuta shrugged at this. “Johnny wanted you here. What Johnny says kinda just goes.”

You took some time to process his words. A little crime syndicate, basically. That’s who had “captured” you. Though, from the sounds, and, so far, looks of it, they weren’t as big of a threat as you had initially imagined. That, and you were technically also a criminal. 

Still, you weren’t planning on joining some little gang. You just figured you would be living the rest of your most-wanted-list life on the streets alone, scavenging for scraps of food, outrunning LAW officers, sleeping in boxes in alleys while the rain poured on you.

Wow. Sounds like a bright future for you. 

But then again, what the hell could you offer to some little gang? You were just a (former) normal college student! You’ve never dabbled in anything even remotely crime-related. Why did “Johnny”, whoever this guy was, want you in their little group?

Yuta could practically see the steam coming out of your ears as your brain worked in over-drive processing all the new information. He chuckled a little.

“Look, no one is forcing you to stay here. If you want, as soon as you’ve recovered, feel free to leave. I could always just…Look the other way.” He winked at me, then fiddled with the machine again. A teal liquid began to flow down the tube and into my hand. “I’m gonna give you some sleep juice. It’ll make the pain go away.”

“Honestly, though, Johnny’s gonna be pissed if we wasted our meds on you and you just dip. Again, no pressure.” Yuta smirked. You wanted to hit him, but damn, the medicine works quick. You could already feel your body getting heavy. 

“It kinda sounds like you aren’t giving me a choice,” you muttered back instead. “I didn’t say anything like that, Y/N,” Yuta replied to that. 

You really wanted to ask more questions. You wanted to ask more about their group, dig around, and try to figure out exactly why you were wanted. You definitely wanted to ask to talk to Jonas, who was most likely the leader. The medicine was beginning to make it hard to think, though.

“I need more information. I’m not gonna join some anti-government rebel group just because I'm homeless and being hunted down.” Your head felt like it was floating, and your eyelids were beginning to droop. “But…I guess I don’t have any other options…”

Yuta smiled at you. It was the last thing you saw as you finally let your eyes close.

“Welcome to Kwangya.”

masterlist || Chapter 2 >>

To be added to the taglist, please send me an ask ♡

[kivaember]

slaps down a teaser for a susano-o/tsukuyomi fic that's temporarily titled "tsukuyomi fucking dies (he gets better tho)" and would you believe it's a comedy with some angst

-

In 1919, Susano-o had issued Tsukuyomi a challenge.

Tsukuyomi couldn’t recall the exact words of it, but it had been issued on the heels of a rather unpleasant time in both of their lives, licking their respective wounds from a mismatched fight against a few Baltic gods. Bethel hadn’t intervened in what they saw as a ‘minor skirmish’ between differing branches, and it had been one of the very few and rare times that Tsukuyomi had actually died. Retrospectively, the challenge probably hadn’t been all that serious, just uttered from a place of frustration and worry.

Still, Tsukuyomi never ignored a thrown gauntlet from his brother, and as they slinked away from the Baltic gods with their figurative tails between their legs, Tsukuyomi strove to prove Susano-o wrong from that point on.

“And that’s another one to add to the pile…”

Tsukuyomi popped the cap back onto the pen, admiring the glistening red ‘X’ cutting the bold ‘31’ on the calendar. Flipping it shut, the glossy cover of a cat poking its head out of a teapot (Susano-o was the one who got it for him) peered back at him. Tsukuyomi tucked the pen away into his internal space and picked up the calendar, feeling rather smug as he plotted out the teleport coordinates to where Susano-o dwelt.

In his quarters… well, it was four in the morning, and Susano-o did enjoy sleeping in.

Now, while Tsukuyomi was not the strongest of his siblings, or even the most magically skilled or efficient, he was second-to-none when it came to spatial displacement. His accuracy in teleporting was pinpoint, and the speed of his calculations were rarely outraced. So, it was thoroughly intentional when he hopped across the space between his room and Susano-o’s…

…and landed full force on his slumbering brother’s gut.

“Arhgck!” Susano-o half-yelped, half-gurgled, not even his rock-hard abs prepared to handle all 120kg of Tsukuyomi slamming into it (Proto-Fiend bodies were, as a rule, crushingly heavy - the humans were working on it).

“Oh. My. I apologise. I must’ve miscalculated my jump,” Tsukuyomi said insincerely, delicately hopping off his brother and not even bothering to hide his smile. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Susano-o made some highly amusing hissing noise as he curled up on his side, disorientated and pained, but knowing his brother was making mischief at his expense. “Urk. Tsukuyomi, you…”

“Yes. Well, anyway.” Tsukuyomi held up the calendar. “I came to remind you of the date.”

There was nothing funnier than Susano-o’s expression of profound angry bafflement, his golden eyes squinting up at him in the gloom. His wild, dark blue hair was unbound, and though it was waist-length, some stubborn locks were trying to stick out in all sorts of directions, making Susano-o look remarkably like some sort of hermit-creature blinking out of its cave after being rudely disturbed.

“…the date? Brother, it’s-“ he paused to look at his bedside clock, his voice rising in indignation: “-four in the morning!?!?”

“It’s been eighty years since you issued that challenge back in 1919-”

Susano-o threw his pillow at him.

Tsukuyomi neatly sidestepped it. “And so, as is now tradition, I return this calendar to you-”

“It is not even dawn, Tsukuyomi! Even Amaterasu still sleeps!” Susano-o groaned, flopping back onto his bed - the poor frame wheezed its protest, if Tsukuyomi was heavy then Susano-o was dense (in both sense of the word).

“Which means there’s still twenty hours of the day left!” Susano-o abruptly declared, bolting upright. His sour expression instead turned smug, his eyes glittering with a challenge realised and a challenge met. “No, you are celebrating a victory you have not yet won, brother! Twenty hours is plenty for you to fail!”

“Hm. Yes. Twenty hours to achieve that which 701256 hours hasn’t,” Tsukuyomi drawled.

“…how did you calculate that so quickly- never mind!” Susano-o crossed his arms. “What you are doing now is called ‘tempting fate’, brother! So foolish, so unwise. You have finally crossed the line now!”

“Is that so,” Tsukuyomi said, never putting much stock in fate. He had seen humans overcome it so many times that the innate resignation all gods felt towards it was faded in him. “Well, I’ll give you leave to say ‘I told you so’ if I befall some sort of calamity before the new years.”

“Oh, you are really tempting it now.”

Tsukuyomi scoffed quietly, tossing the calendar onto the bed beside his brother’s leg. “I’m quivering in my shoes. Now, enjoy your rest, brother. I’ll be spending this time contemplating what your forfeit will be.”

Susano-o picked up the calendar and pointed it threateningly at him. “Mark my words, brother, before the day is out… you are going to have a demise so humiliating it will be remembered for decades to come.”

“Remember, it doesn’t count if you kill me,” Tsukuyomi said mildly.

[inkykeiji]

ok wild concept but hear me out. i have been obsessed with your touya-nii fics for. i literally sprouted on sunday but ive been a dabi seedling for a while now. but the point is that im a frequent flyer. now i say all this to talk about how i recently re-read the keigo addition to that series and this could honestly be a product of his newest imagery BUT I DIGRESS the important thing is hear me out again

so keigo naturally knows that touya is involved with his sister but touya also doesnt share outside of natsu. but ive been thinking right? what if its not always just touya’s sister as an individual that he’s attracted to? like yes he thinks she’s pretty and when he can get a round in, he finds her incredibly hot. but WHAT IF its more about the taboo dynamic and he’s projecting??? like WHAT IF keigo has his own little sister? raised beside him at the orphanage and the two of them are close but depending on your take of modern keigo, id imagine the first few years before they settled were rough. and like kei loves them, like so so much. thats his everything, like if it would only be them at the end of the world he’d be satisfied

but deep down he feels like guilty about it? like thats his sibling yknow and he knows the stigma would weigh the two of you down and he’s never wanted anything more than to see her fly high on her own aspirations. and tbh he was getting over all that. he truly was growing out of that stage. but then he met touya’s sister and all that ‘get yourself right’ shit just went out of the window. bc he’s just there witnessing in 4K while touya and his sister are just like together?? the way they share each other’s space, the way touya responds to her coos. and like he knows it doesnt take rocket science for anyone to figure out that the two of them are so obviously fucking on the side but he’s just like yo no one cares??

and i think that just like makes him spiral and he just starts craving what touya has literally bc he thinks he can never have it. bc when he catches her in the moment all fuckout out in the head, just sometimes she’ll whimper out kei-nii and he just blows his whole load

and yeah, sorry for the rambling. i just think that kei is just like why cant i have that too? and low key i think dabi knows

and yeah with that im back on to my sunday agenda. and i would your latest reply so delicious that it refueled my week and im looking forward to what comes next!! hope you’re having a great week 🌱

oooh okay so!!! this keigo actually reminds me a lot of my tag you’re it keigo, because he kind of feels the same way about his (flesh n blood) lil sister.

but anyway i digress!!! this is a really interesting idea and it is RIPE for keigo angst. i definitely do think that keigo being around touya + his lil sister with such frequency possibly would wear down his desire to be a Good Big Brother and foster a hunger to finally act on his impulses. it’s a slow erosion of his barely existent morals, but it’s constant, and envy is one hell of a monster. envy gnaws on his conscience, envy devours his common sense, envy hollows out the pit of his already empty stomach with jade claws and gnashing teeth, making room for his compulsion to fester, rot, grow.

and touya 100% knows, because touya can read almost everyone around him like a children’s storybook. and touya loves it. because touya loves flaunting what he has, what others don’t; touya loves knowing that people wish they were him. so touya turns up the PDA to fucking eleven, just to make keigo’s blood itch with want, just to watch keigo shift and squirm and avert his eyes only to bounce back and stare brazenly merely half a second later.

this really only rubs salt in the wound, nurtures the disgusting desire tangling in keigo’s tummy and ensures that it thrives.

[cerealboxlore]

feeling evil, have some angst

so twins mary and billy, their parents died and they were both “taken in” by ebenezer and, shockingly enough, he sucks

ebenezer ends up almost killing mary and ditches her in some alley or something where someone kind finds her and gets her into a better place/adopts her but she lost her memories due to the trauma, i imagine that she very vaguely remembers billy and just knows something is missing but generally lives a pretty good life

anyways, billy saw her get beaten by ebenezer and doesnt know what happened to her after and might assume shes dead

he leaves ebenezer and lives on the streets (maybe gets some sort of revenge?)

later he becomes the champion and even layer joins the league

and one day while on a mission with the league he gets hit by a magic spell (or maybe fear toxin? but i’m thinking more a spell) that makes him relive his worst memory/fear

he manages to hold off the effects until he gets to the watchtower (maybe thinks nothing is wrong until it hits him at the watchtower?) and his whole demeanour just changes

he goes from happy cap to scared child to so full of rage and sorrow that it engulfs martian manhunter

i can’t organise anymore of my thoughts rn but basically it’s not fun times

Never stop being evil, honey bee 🐝

I've been going absolutely buck wild over this and let me tell you, the angst in this nutrious fic meal is divine! My compliments to the chef! 👨‍🍳

For the twin batson siblings, it's always been a thought of mind of how they could get separated from each other for so long. It's a thing that has different scenarios and details depending on the author/writer, but I thoroughly enjoy the idea of Mary and Billy being under Ebeneezer's care until Ebeneezer decides to get rid of one of them, via not so good means, and the other ending up running away in fear. Billy was always the one who ran away in my eyes, but the reasons into his run away decision is much deeper than one originally thinks.

Billy doesn't want to run away. He's a child who needs protecting. But he's led to believe that he has to, out of fear and wanting to live. Seeing his own twin sister getting near the brink of death would traumatize Billy. They share the same face, seeing Mary get hurt would scare Billy into thinking he was next. Maybe Ebeneezer got tired of having to take care of children, maybe he wanted their trust funds/inheritance, or maybe there was an accident with his car and he didn't see Mary playing in the drive way (or did he), and wanted to ditch the body. So many scenarios that could have lead to the ultimate destruction of this family. Mary is also a child, and to go through all of that would certainly be painful for ber to endure. I wouldn't blame her if the memories of this was too much to handle, causing her to repress everything into an amnesia like state for her own safety. She's fortunate enough to get adopted into a new family and have a fresh start in life, but she will be apart and missing that half of her that is her brother. She may not remember Ebeneezer hurting her, but the scars will stay.

As for sweet Billy Batson, running away to become homeless wasn't easy, but it's a decision he felt was safer than being in that horror of a house. He eventually becomes the champion of magic and joins the Justice League, good for him, but the traumas and tragedies of his past haunt him more than he realizes. Despite having all the magic in the world, he's still a child crying for his parents and sister deep down. This can be exposed/played with if a certain Venusian worm wanted to experiment and rot away his mind to destroy him, and what better way to do it than with Mr. Mind partnering up with the Scarecrow. I'm unsure what deal they would have to work together, but the mind is a terrifying place that holds the person together. A mind controller and a man who is fear itself would have a hell of a time together facing the Justice League.

Perhaps these two are hunting down members of the league together, slowly making their attempts to dwindle their numbers of active heroes down for a larger scale plot. Make the heroes of the world defenseless against their minds and inner fears, too mentally weak to fight against the later plot. The JL is on high alert, warning their fellow heroes of what's to come. Cap is too late for their message, already a victim to the evil duo's diabolical mental manipulation. Mr. Mind knows who Cap is and uses it to his advantage, controlling his memories to bring forward the worst memories of his life; his time in Ebeneezer's house. The abuse the went though. The starvation. The sense of worthlessness. Reliving what he believes were Mary's last moments. The blood. The dread. The fear.

Billy knows he's losing his mind. He can feel his mental fortitude rotting away and melting into insanity over the waves of grief and wrath engulfing him. Perhaps this also causes the seven deadly enemies to being to break free from their prisons as well. He manages to make it to the watch tower, desperately admiting that he needs help immediately, losing his smile and crying a storm of tears that won't stop.

He's defenseless. He feels weak. Worthless. The memories that haunt him are possessing his every thought, eating away at him.

I'd very much like to see how Martian Manhunter would handle this situation, especially considering how he would find out fast that Billy is just a kid, but also the dangers of entering a mind that Mr. Mind has tampered with. I'd love to see more interactions between these people, as well as batman, since Scarecrow is his villain/rogue after all.

I had an absolute blast with this ask! There's so much potential that goes with Billy and his past traumas, especially when it concerns Mary. The constant separation anxiety they both must feel, but Mary doesn't know what she's feeling separated from must be awful.

Oh goodness I wrote a lot