#hope I did them justice! never drew them before but they were fun!

[averaillisa]

Hi!

Just have to say first that I love your Diluc & Zhongli so so so much and I was so happy when I found out that you like One Piece too! Really felt like wining the lottery when an artist like you likes my recent hyperfixation 😂

So for the outfit ask meme can you Diluc in B2 or Nami in A3 or Nico Robin in D1? 👀

aaaaa thanks so much for the request and this nice ask!! here are the girlsss >w<

yee I just started reading & catching up with one piece last year and I've really come to love it again!! its so fun and cute!

[jhuzen]

Hi!! I wanted to make a request if you're taking them right now! (Sorry if you aren't, feel free to just ignore!!((in love with your writing by the way it's amazing)))

My idea is Zhongli with a partner who is very usually very cheery and chaotic but very emotionally closed off. Until they get drunk for whatever reason and sobbing to Zhongli about how much they're in love with him and how he's the best thing that ever happened to them etc.

Basically just very mushy drunk reader.

Anyway, hope you're doing well, make sure to drink water and be nice to yourself!

truth serum [gn/m.reader]

asmsiskdkcmeimcwdc?? not me absolutely having fun with this godsend ask. like. tysm anon. i love it. you have no idea how amazed and happy i am to see this ask. good shit. another big brained anon ftw. also i hope i did it some justice 😭 i really enjoyed writing their chemistry,, it’s so cute hehe

𖦹 a pinch of angst, drinking, alcohol, an attempt at a cute scenario

In all the years that Zhongli has known you, there was nothing short of joy and amusement that you brought into his life. Since the day he met you up on one of the mountains he’s shaped and created, you’ve enticed him and drew him in so effortlessly and he complied, growing closer like a moth to a flame. You were the sun that everybody looked forward to — him more so.

And he wasn’t wrong with his judgment, you gave what you offered. You were the gentle glow and the warmth that radiated on the nights that he’s cold. Always blessing him with that smile of yours — how ironic was it that he was the famed archon, and yet he looked to you and worshipped you far more than anyone in the people of Liyue could ever do so with him. To him, you were the unsung deity, the person that deserved a throne but never needed one, your benevolence exceeded anyone’s expectations and anyone wouldn’t be ashamed to have you.

You are Zhongli’s pride and joy, the only one capable of forging the embers of passion that sweltered within him. You are his everything.

And even with such a kind attitude, you were no downer. You exhibited a form of exuberance that immediately drew everyone in. With that warming smile of yours, everyone wanted to be near you for a chance (though Zhongli still with the characteristics of the draconic Morax would refuse anything closer, you were his even before he staked his claim).

Said exuberance of yours often turned you into a mad riot — a whirlwind of pure excitement that anyone could barely keep up with. Zhongli had to stifle a quiet laugh when he had to come get you from Wanmin restaurant, Guoba scolding you as you tried to beat Xiangling on who can eat the most Jueyun Chilis. You lost to young girl, but Xiangling wasn’t doing any better. You tried to reason out that you were losing on purpose, but with your labored breathing and your adorably red face, Zhongli could tell otherwise.

Often times, Zhongli would get dragged into such schemes, to the point that he has to save you from plummeting down into Osial’s prison when you tried to propose to him to be your lover in the stone forest. It truly was memorable for all the wrong (and right) reasons.

You’ve endeared him when you took the leap of faith and came to him with open arms, ready to finally have him after the long-winded pining, the hinting glances he would give you, and the way the former archon only seems to care about you and only you far more than anyone else.

Being with you was nothing short of delightful. Everyday, Zhongli would wake up to your breathtaking smiles and home-cooked breakfast. You entertained his endeavors and stories that could last for days, even making remarks of your own. You bought him trinkets that ranged from something simple, to something he knew even Tartaglia’s bank would quiver at. You were perfect.

Well. Generously speaking.

By all means, you weren’t a bad partner or a lover, you gave him everything, from the material possessions, down to the intimate moments you and him shared.

It was only that there are times, when Zhongli would be left in the silence of your shared home, he would zone into those moments that were so intimate emotionally and found… that it was only him that ever shared the appreciations, the loving gratitude, and the genuine love that he feels for you. And you accepted it wholeheartedly, only to turn the other way and continue on with what you’re doing.

It worried him greatly.

Even more when his thoughts were proven right as you held him so closely as you and him laid under the shade of the tree, with him comfortably resting on top of you. He could hear your heartbeat from your chest, as he laid his ear on it, quiet thumping can be heard and if he were to listen close enough, there was a timber of kindness and love inside it.

He sighed, content and at peace within your arms, “I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated life more than now…”

“Hm? Why do you say that?” You asked, hands slowly removing itself from his waist as you played around with the strands of his hair. “You’re not dying on me, are you?” You jested and he only scoffed with no malice. Ever the joker you are, it’s ridiculous how he fell for such charms.

“I am merely appreciating the finer things in life. Madame Ping has urged me to talk more about it,” a mere white lie for him to coax out your vulnerability. Madame Ping was far too aware of his happiness now that he has you — she was always the one on the receiving end of his talk of fondness about you.

“Oh? Then what makes you appreciate this life then?”

“Complications are far behind me now that I’m no longer the one in control… everything feels so much simpler yet so intricate,” he looked up at you, chin resting on your chest as he flashed you a small smile. “All of it because now I have you. I love you, [Name]. I would give you all the stars if I could, and slay a thousand beasts to keep you from harm… you are my everything and without you, I can no longer see myself as something…”

He watched with glee as your eyes widened at his words, no doubt taken by surprise. Zhongli can feel it, your vulnerability, ready to bare itself to him with the same level of intimacy as he’s displayed. Just that, and he can be the most content man in the world.

“I— ah, that’s good.”

Zhongli blinked owlishly as you stumbled over your words. Struggled even. He felt your muscles tense up beneath him.

“Good. I’m glad you’re happy, dearest.”

He couldn’t shield you from the way his eyes flashed a smidge of hurt at your response. And you weren’t an idiot. A bit reckless to the point of trouble following you, sure, but you were far from ignorant. Especially to your lover. You frowned a little and tilted his chin up, “Hey now, don’t make that face. I’m glad you’re feeling okay in the life that you’ve been living. And I love you too,” you tried to salvage what you could but even you were aware at how lacking it was.

Zhongli wasn’t unappreciative of your efforts, but he could only nod and stomach the gnawing worry inside him as he felt your lips brush against the skin of his forehead. Surely there’s a way to pry you open, right? There was something holding you back… and he doesn’t know what.

He was aware already that despite how accepting you seem, no one has ever seen you so vulnerable. You were an individual so full of life, but you never once wore your heart on your sleeves. And if people could look past those smiles of yours that are just so full of life, they would’ve known just how closed off you truly are. It was confusing, really, and Zhongli was starting to doubt things.

If he can’t even know your true feelings… then what’s stopping you from suddenly going up and leaving, only to never come back? Zhongli was heartbroken at the thought, he can’t lose you, not in a million years and even more than that.

But how… in Teyvat is he going to pry you open?

“ALCOHOL!!”

Zhongli almost yelped as he watched the poor you crash into the cobble streets of the harbor, jolting at the sight of the infamous Crux Captain on top of your back, with an incredibly huge smile on her face. He grimaced at your weak groan. He knows you can stomach a little pain. He knows that after he watched you confront Azhdaha to help the traveler into coaxing him to give them some materials for something important.

“[Name]!! I’ve arrived with a hundred souvenirs and a thousand more kegs! Courtesy of the rich lady up top, of course.” Beidou cackled as she finally got off of you, helping you up to your feet. “Oh! Hey there! Hope you don’t mind me borrowing your beloved for awhile!” She winked at Zhongli… but from her one eye, it only seemed like a mere blink.

Zhongli tilted his head a little as the look of confusion crossed his features, “Pardon? What do you mean by that, Captain Beidou?”

You dusted off the last bits of dust on your clothing and laughed a little, “Ah, I almost forgot. Y’see, before Beidou left, she told me I owe her a challenge.”

“A challenge?” The former archon cocked an eyebrow.

“A challenge!” Beidou parroted with a loud laugh, patting your back rather strongly to the point that you almost went back down to kiss the ground. “I challenged [Name] into the greatest drinking contest ever! Them against me, of course! It’s finally time for us to prove who’s the one that can hold the most liquor in the world!”

Zhongli looked at you questioningly, and you returned it with a shrug, “It’s what she wanted. And she won’t leave me alone until I say yes. If I didn’t I probably wouldn’t have been able to leave the ship.”

“Like there was even a chance for you to say no!” Beidou laughed again before patting your back and Zhongli’s shoulder, “Alright, I’ll see you in Liuli Pavilion! The booze is waiting and I don’t want my rival backing out!”

You had to rub your back from the soreness and sighed, “Though I doubt she’ll win, you have to admire the captain’s spirit. It’s hard not to honor her request.”

Zhongli stepped nearer and fixed up the lapels of your suit, smiling a little, “You know it’s a rather unfair match, right? While the Captain is amazing, you’re basically impossible to even get drunk.”

“That may be true, but hey, who knows?”

Who knows, indeed — is what all Zhongli could say as he gawked at the many barrels of alcohol that were stacked upon each other. The captain was not kidding, she secured barrels of it even, and the spark of glee that was within her eyes was relatively alarming. He merely tagged along so he can at least help clean up, but now curiosity was lingering at the back of his mind.

He’s never once seen you drunk. Often times, it’ll be him already mumbling about on the occasions that you and him would go out and drink to unwind (often in the company of one harbinger who would always challenge you and subsequently lose). He’s even seen you offer a handicap and drink Snezhnaya’s fire water in one bottle and Tartaglia still got wasted first.

You simply held your alcohol so well. Zhongli figured maybe this was the reason for Beidou’s challenge, to finally outdo you.

And Zhongli would have called it a night if it hadn’t turned for the unexpected.

But before that, expectantly, Beidou was out. She couldn’t beat you, and probably not even a million years. But she managed far more than any other human out there, swigging drink after drink with little to no care, keeping up with you all the more. It was almost inhuman, really, to see her empty the huge beer glass with so much gusto, the accompanying snacks as chasers left to the crew members who were also around to witness their captain’s victory.

And when she finally tapped out, surprisingly, you… you were already drunk.

Zhongli waited in bated breath as you and him were the only ones awake in the establishment. He was positive even the owners had to have dozed off with how long this competition has been going on already.

“Z…Zhooooong…zhongzhong…” you murmured and he was already by your side in a flash.

“Dear? Are you alright?” The concern inside him was quelled as he watched your flushed cheeks brighten even more. You’ve had one too many to the point that you were barely coherent. He was surprised to say the least — seeing you so feverish and so drunk.

“Zhonnnngggzzzzzzzli,” he blinked as you looked up, letting go of the beer glass you had in your hand. “Did I… win?”

“Sure did. We’re the only ones awake.” He laughed.

You raised a wobbly and weak fist in victory, “H….Hhhh…. Y-Yep. D-Das’right… I am the… undefeated champ,” your fist landed softly on the back of Beidou’s head, bonking her slightly with a slurred grin, “Take that… you… sea lady thing…”

Zhongli sighed a little, it was definitely in your fashion to get yourself into this kind of situation. Definitely your style to agree to something as ridiculous as a drinking contest and get drunk for the very first time. A smile tugged on the corner of his lips, “I will go get you some water and carry you home, yes?” He said and you nodded.

Only that when he did stand up to get water, you pulled him back down from his coattails, making him sit on your lap.

“[Name], I…”

“Shhhshshshshhh, no. Shush.” You huffed, enveloping his waist with your arms as you buried your face into his chest. He let out a breath, “Shush.” You chided and Zhongli obliged, trying to breathe quietly… however that’s done.

You and him stayed in silence, and he relished in the feeling of you within him. It was a sight to behold, something he will definitely remember for all eternity.

“Zhongli…” you murmured into the fabric of his coat, he only let out a quiet hum in response, playing with your hair like you did with him before. “I love you.”

“I know, dear. And I lo—”

“No!” You suddenly yelled and one of the crew members stirred at your volume, but you could care less. You lifted your head from his chest and held his shoulders, pulling him back a little as you looked at him square in his eyes. “I. Really. Love. You.”

Zhongli smiled a little and nodded. But you cut him off before he could say it back again, “I don’t think you realize just… how much… I love you. It’s ridiculous. I love you so much that it’s soooo annoying,” you drawled and the former archon had to wonder what you meant.

Lucky him that you were going to tell anyway. It seemed as though a moment of sobriety and clarity came upon you, as your lazy slurring left your system while you spoke.

“You… are probably one of the best things that ever happened to me. I know I don’t say it much, but,” you hiccuped and Zhongli only then saw the tears cascading down your face, “I really, really, really love you so much. You have no idea how much it broke me when I saw your face before. You looked so sad, Zhongli, so, so, soooo sad. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it before, love. I don’t know what came over me, and I—!”

“Oh dear,” an airy chuckle left Zhongli’s parted lips as he watched you suddenly break open the emotions you held in your indestructible dam, flowing through like the tears in your eyes.

“I just— I just… I just!!! I just love you so much, man! Y-You treat me so well and give me all that I hope for!” You wailed so dramatically and Zhongli had to wonder if anyone woke up (he hopes not for the sake of your dignity and that he only wishes to be the only man to see this side of you), “Zhongli, I will marry you. It’s not even a want to do kind of thing anymore, I-I feel like if I don’t have you, I will die.”

It wasn’t even your intention, but soon tears pricked at the ends of his eyes, sniffling at your display, “Let’s hope we do not come to that point, yes?”

You pouted a little, “…Yes… Anyway… I’m… sorry I couldn’t say much… it’s hard for me, I guess,” you confessed and Zhongli understood. He always will for you. “But please understand… that if I also could, I would bring you not just stars but all worlds, that for your safety, I will not just kill a thousand threats but also build the strongest home… I will do it all for you…”

Suddenly, the fears within Zhongli were quelled and sent away as you finally gave out, letting him know that his worries were nothing but anxiety and that he will always have a place in your heart. He could feel his cheeks warm at your proposition earlier of tying the knot, even he couldn’t resist the giddiness that flooded his system at your drunken promise. It was enough for him to know that you still loved him even when it was expressed through a drunken honesty.

“…I love you… Zhongzhong…” you took your final shred of consciousness to breathe out your little declaration, eyes finally closing as you gave into the blissful slumber.

He cupped your cheeks and pecked your lips with a content smile, “I love you too, [Name].”

Zhongli was right about himself when you finally laid your feelings to him so openly. Because right now, he can confidently claim that he is most content man in the world.

[kimbapisnotsushi]

okay gang buckle up here are the highlights from the notes and mini comics in the back of the english version of "beginnings & endings" let's go!!

(also i know translated images of these are probs floating around somewhere but i have literally never seen these before except in the og jp artbook bc i don't go on twitter so like. this one is for the tumblr gang i guess?? anyways have fun!)

there's a small comic where yamaguchi tells tsukki that he hears hinata has been doing meiso (瞑想, or meditation) every day which i guess is a homophone because tsukki goes "he's been doing meiso forever, what?" (迷走, to stray/act randomly) and pictures hinata always going off on his own and doing random shit LMAAAO

also there's a mini comic where bokuto is wearing a lab coat and is like "omg don't i look good in this?" and komi and konoha are like "yooooo the lab coat is so sick it makes anyone look smart it's so amazing etc" and akaashi is in the back whisper-yelling "IF YOU GUYS PRAISE THE LAB COAT TOO MUCH THEN BOKUTO WILL GET JEALOUS OF THEM"

THERE'S ANOTHER MINI COMIC THAT'S ADVERTISING THE SALE OF VOLUME 33 WHICH KAGEYAMA THOUGHT WASN'T REAL BC "hinata's dig is on the cover!?!?! that can't be right!! that has to be fake!!"

and then he promotes it by saying "it's got hinata crappily bumping the ball on it. hope you'll like it"

another mini comic shows hinata sending a pic of himself and oikawa in rio wishing kageyama, yachi, tsukki, and yamaguchi a happy new year except like. oihina are squatting over a sand sculpture they made that's a replica of the kagami-mochi which is making yachi, tsukki, and yamaguchi lose their shit. kageyama (who is separate from them on a jog) does not seem to realize what it is and wonders why they built a pile of poop

KANBAYASHI SHOWS UP IN ONE OF THE MINI COMICS??? I WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT JUSTICE FOR MY BOY LET'S GO

literally he just introduces himself and where he is ("i'm currently standing in front of the men's room at fukurodani high") and explains that today is the final day of a MASSIVE joint training camp and takes us to see how things are going AND THEN WE SEE EVERYONE BURSTING THROUGH THE DOORS AND SUGA YELLING "IT'S PARTY TIME!!!!"

dude i fucking LOVE this one bc like. kamomedai is there. it's at fukurodani so obviously they're there. the ppl that come in are karasuno members (the third years plus tsukki, hinata, and kageyama), kuroo, and oikawa (so we know nekoma AND seijoh are there) so i'm just like. who the fuck else is there. this IS a party. it's THE crossover. THE ensemble cast

tbh i'm a really big fan of thinking that this is the intro panel to that huge colored spread furudate did of all the teams gathered around the nekoma v karasuno match bc it's the only thing that makes sense!! that WAS the final day of their massive joint training day session!!!!

THERE'S A SHORT MANGA IN THE BACK DETAILING FURUDATE'S RESEARCH TRIP TO BRAZIL I'M SO FUCKING EXCITED LET'S GO

furudate used hinata, tsukki, and kageyama to represent themselves and two editors who went with them

apparently local sports sites interviewed furudate bc they wre curious to know about the manga and then furudate. turned around and interviewed them right back about beach volleyball LMAAAO

two of the women's beach volleyball players they met (barbara seixas and fernanda berti if anyone knows them!) did the kamehameha pose and furudate drew them in it

the meal that oikawa and hinata ate together was traced directly from a picture furudate took when they got lunch with the athletes LOL

they also visited barbara seixas's house and got to see all her medals and trophies!!

the next day they went to go interview from the men's side and met bruno oscar schmidt and evandro gonçalves. these guys were funny bc furudate asked them "do you ever clash over opinions or get into arguments?" and apparently schmidt (who is 6'1") pointed at oscar (6'11"!!!!) and went "what, you think i'd pick a fight with him?"

then they visited gonçalves' apartment where he also had a lot of trophies LMAO, and his apartment was used as inspiration for the apartments of hinata and pedro / heitor and nice!!!

keep in mind that furudate has been using hinata, tsukki, and kageyama to represent their team this entire time so it looks like those three have just been hanging out with irl volleyball players LMAAAO

then they went to corcovado mountain to see the statue and, in a rare moment of rawdog honesty, tsukki admits that the view from the top is pretty

ALSO THERE ARE PENCIL SKETCHES/ROUGH DRAFTS ON PAGE 369 OF DIFFERENT SCENES BUT ONE OF THEM BEING THE KARASUNO V NEKOMA SPREAD WITH ALL THE TEAMS WATCHNG

okay from this point we're going to be getting into furudate's work process and office space!!!

furudate's got his own desk in the back corner of the room right by a window. in the center there are four staff desks shoved together divided in half horizontally by a giant wall of tissue boxes. the reason for this is because they meant to buy a desk partitioner but kept forgetting to, and now they've decided that they don't need one bc they have the tissue box wall????

btw the tissue box wall suddenly appeared out of nowhere. like it actually says "the staff members must have felt awkward facing each other with nothing in between, because at some point there was suddenly a stack of tissue boxes there"

also they stuck like. alllll kinds of things to the tissue boxes. notes and diagrams and and sketches and literally anything that would make an easy reference

also furudate straight up admits that the most annoying thing to draw was hinata's head LMAAAO

and apparently inarizaki jerseys were supposed to have a line across the shoulders but everyone decided that was way too much work so they stopped

furudate has a stepping machine under their desk (it's two actually, one on top of the other) that they use while working bc they heard that Google employees do the same. they don't have any lower back pain so i guess it works??

furudate also really likes the fudenosuke brand of thin brush marker pens and goes through quite a lot of them. at one point one of the staff members drew the whole tokyo city gymnasium ceiling with only those pens

idk if you guys want me to go into the whole technique and tool thing if any artist wants to know send me an ask and i'll make a separate post for that bc this is getting really long already aaaaaaaaghhhhhh

furudate keeps a small volleyball whiteboard on their desk and uses magnets of the characters to plan how a game might play out which actually might be MY personal favorite fun fact about them like that's SO cool??? there's also a photo of the christ the redeemer statue stuck on it they got during the brazil trip and also notes about oikawa's and futakuchi's hair parts LMAAAO

they don't finalize the art digitally instead furudate calculates the size of the copy and then prints each piece out and pastes it onto the manga pages

i actually have no idea what that means i mostly copied it word for word but it sounded SUPER interesting

because of that tho furudate made a joke that paper cement was the most important supply in the office

they keep two pairs of volleyball shoes on the desk for reference . . . . it's hinata's and kageyama's shoes . . . .

they have fanart on the wall from not only fans and staff but oda eiichiro (one piece), kishimoto masashi (naruto), and horikoshi kohei (my hero academia). there's also a framed jurassic park poster which is apparently furudate's favorite movie (LMAO?? that explains some things i guess) and it was playing in the background as they drew the final chapter rather than music

they also keep video game consoles and video games in the office, and they'd play the radio during the day and switch to TV in the evening. they play pre-recorded shows or movies when they have to pull all-nighters which, like, mood

and furudate REALLY likes horror movies apparently? they like the grudge, the ring, one missed call, the conjuring, rec, zombieland, and the mist

okay the last few pages from here on out are insane it's furudate's comments on different scenes from each volume or the volume covers and spans like fifteen pages???? i might make a separate post for that one too

also at the bottom of each of those pages are the different hq characters walking and such and i'll probs also post separate pics bc THEY'RE SO CUTE AONE HAS A LIL CAT FOLLOWING HIM

anyways thanks for sticking with me guys!! that was a long one jesus christ

[totromanticfool]

Hey, hello & hi! I'm back to make hc request again haha. How do u think would Artem, Vyn and Marius(or just vyn and Artem, doesnt matter) react if their s/o who loves to Draw drew them? Have a good day and thank you!

Thank you for another fun request, JuJu! I am really sorry it took me this long to fullfill it, but I hope you like it nontheless!

This piece had been sitting in my computer half complete for much longer than I would have liked, but it is finally finished! Thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs on my previous works.

Being your muse In these little ficlets, the ToT boys mentioned and you, the reader, are already dating. Enjoy the fluff! Order: Marius – Artem - Vyn 

Marius: When the artist became the muse.  

You met at an art exhibit, so Marius knew you were some kind of artist, like him. 

You put ''art time'' in your routine every so often, just to satisfy those creative urges. 

Marius was the painter and you were the drawer. It made a perfect combo, where Marius created the most stunning paintings from your excellent sketches.  

Both your houses hung full of those paintings. 

There was one thing you wanted to draw more than anything; him. But as an artist himself, you were afraid your sketch would never do him justice, until now. 

You were both in his office, him going over some paperwork and you lazily scrolling on your phone, waiting for him to finish work so you could go to dinner. When you glanced at him, the late afternoon sun glowed around him, softening his features. The artist in you almost jumped out of your chest, a picture perfect.  

Today was as good a day as ever to reveal your need to draw him. You knew Marius kept supplies in his office for the both of you, making art as a calming past time between you. 

Not wanting to disturb him, you tiptoed to the cabinet, carefully opening it. But as perceptive as always, Marius noticed you eyeing the supplies instantly. ''What are you doing, Miss?'' 

His question didn’t stop you from grabbing some lightweight paper and pencils, reclaiming your place at the table before answering. ''Starting my art time.'' You smiled, and you could see his face falter. ''Ah miss, why don't you wait for me to finish this? '' A pout formed on his beautiful face.  

''I don't want to wait. Just continue your work, you will see mine later.'' You showed a mischievous smile. He could only mumble a not fair, before his phone rang, beckoning him back to work. 

After a long silence, both of you focused on your own work, Marius noticed your gaze flickering back and forth between him and your paper. When he was done signing some documents, he patted over to you slowly, not wanting to disturb you. ''Babe, can I see?'' His curiosity made him giddy, almost jumping in his step. 

''Almost.'' You finished a line and looked at your work, judging if it was good enough to show. Before you could decide, Marius was already standing behind you, looking over your shoulder. When you heard a gasp escape his lips, you froze. You were afraid of this; that he wouldn't like it. But you turned around anyway, ready to explain your thoughts.  

Marius looked at you with an unfamiliar spark in his eyes, a big smile adorning his lips. A second of silence later, Marius dared to speak. ''You... you drew... me?'' He stumbled over his words, but admiration flowed from them. Your own smile grew bigger, realising he actually liked the drawing. You held up your sketchbook for him to see what you drew clearly. 

''Yes. You, being at work with that afternoon sun behind you, it was so pretty.'' You explained. Before you could say anything else, Marius wrapped his arms around you for a tight hug. It might have been because he did not want to show his real emotions, but you didn’t mind; it was confirmation enough for you that he loved it. 

~

Artem: A priceless piece of art made his house feel like home. 

Artem never understood art, or the world around it.  

He tried to do his research, like always, but not having the feeling for it made it that much more difficult. 

He learned a lot from you, and he was glad he could understand your thrills and creative moments. 

In time, he started to notice at which moments you were feeling more artsy than others, and he would encourage you to take time to explore those moments. 

The first few times you were at Artem's place for dinner, you would scroll on your phone, sitting at the kitchen table while he cooked the most amazing meals. When you two started getting closer, he noticed your drawing talents, finding books full of sketches around your house. From that moment on you felt comfortable enough to put time in your talent while he used his in the kitchen. 

This evening was no different. The sketchpad Artem bought you last week was laying in front of you, the page blank; there was no inspiration at the moment. When your boyfriend retreated from his home office to start meal preparations, wrapping the adorable apron around his torso, a flash of creativity coursed through you. 

Every so often Artem would look at you over his shoulder, a smile adorning his lips seeing you focused on your art. The whole scene you were in felt very homey, making him blush.  

The colour on his cheeks made your drawing even better; capturing him in his element with crimson adorning his face was wat you were going for. When you added the blush to your sketch, you felt it was done, looking at your model a few times to make sure. 

Artem finished making dinner, turning around from the stove with a pan, ready to put it on the kitchen table. The moment he turned around; he saw a content smile on your face. He put the pan down quickly, and aimed his eyes on you with curiosity. ''I can see you made something you are proud of. Can I look?'' 

Even though you were nervous you might have to show him at first, his gentle voice made it easier. He was genuinely curious, which made your heart jump a bit. You regained yourself and smelled the aromas of his food preparations. ''After your amazing dinner, deal?'' You smiled at him while closing the pad. He nodded. ''Deal.'' 

Once dinner was finished you started to get nervous again. You knew Artem would never judge you on your art, but him being the object of your latest work, you didn't know what that would do to him; he never liked being in the spotlight. To stall your moment of reveal, you started cleaning the table and filling the dishwasher. 

Fortunately for you, your boyfriend knew better than to push you in showing your work, but he needed to let you know it was okay. ''You don't have to show it, you know. I am just glad you found your vibe again.'' He smiled at you.  

He guided you to the couch, gently cradling you in his arms. He turned on the tv and you were both ready to watch some unknown movie while enjoying each other's close company. Half way through the movie not only your nerves but your curiosity spiked; you actually wanted to know what Artem thought of your drawing.  

Not wasting any time, you jumped off the couch and grabbed your pad. When Artem saw what you were going for, he paused the movie; a smile splayed on his lips.  

You returned at his side rather quickly. ''I hope you like it.'' You opened the pad to the correct page and gave it to him. The moment Artem's eyes focused on the paper, his heart grew. It was him in that silly apron, standing by the stove while looking over his shoulder at you. The blush adorning his cheeks made the sketch even more realistic and beautiful.  

The fact you drew him with such care and detail, made him fall for you even more. He put the pad on the coffee table, words lost on him. After a few seconds of silence, in which you started chewing your bottom lip in anxiety, Artem turned to you.  You had no time to react, for he pulled you in his arms tightly.  

''Thank you, I love it.'' He whispered. You found yourself melting in to his embrace, your nerves all but forgotten.  

~

Vyn: His beauty mark never looked so natural. 

Vyn admired certain types of art, especially sculptures.  

He didn't dedicate much time to visit exhibits, but when you came around, he was more than happy to accompany you. 

Whenever Vyn noticed you were in an artsy mood, he would put on classical music.  

He realised very early on in your relationship that the music made you relax, while putting your time and effort in your artwork.  

Sunday afternoons were reserved for leisure. Sitting in the garden sipping tea, or lounging in the living room with a book. It was time for both of you to destress, enjoy time together and energize for the coming week. 

This Sunday Vyn invited you into the garden, a floral tea set ready next to his garden materials. Vyn felt you were in your art mood again, so he made preparations for you to occupy the lounge set while he gave some much needed attention to his flowers.  

 ''My love, I apologise, it seems my flowers need urgent tending. Please forgive me.'' He lowered his head when both of you entered his garden. 

''Don't worry Vyn, I like spending time together, even if it's doing different things.'' Your warm smile made his heart skip a beat. Your ability to see the beauty in his missteps made him let go of his worries once again.  

''Thank you, love. Then please indulge me.'' He motioned to the new sketchbook and pencils, placed neatly on the table. Surprise written on your face, you let out a small gasp. Before you could mutter random words, Vyn speaks. ''I noticed you ran out of paper yesterday, while you were in your art vibe, as you like to call it.'' He took a deep breath before continuing. ''It pained me to see you weren't able to continue, and thus I made it my mission to give you more art time, with the proper tools. ''  

Your voice was barely a whisper, your heart tugged at the utter sweet gesture. ''Thank you, Vyn.'' The only thing you could think of was getting a closer look at your new supplies. After giving Vyn a chaste kiss on his cheek, you bounced up to the table and took a seat behind it. Your eyes were gleaming the moment you ran your fingertips over the book's cover. 

Recovering from your burst of intimacy, Vyn approached you. ''This must mean you like it?'' He asked. Vyn knew you did, but he was always hesitant when it came to your art and your dedication to it. He never wanted to push you, or buy the wrong supplies, you were more than sufficient in that yourself. ''I love it.'' You reply.  

''Then let me leave you to it. '' He smiled, his golden eyes smouldering in the afternoon sun. He returned your kiss with one of his own on your forehead and turned on the remote music box. Notes of Beethoven filled the garden, cascading both of you in the relaxed atmosphere you always find yourself in with this kind of music. 

While Vyn prepared himself with his gloves and other materials, you cautiously opened the sketchbook, deciding on which pencil to use. The truth was, your ‘artsy vibe’ was long gone after last night's running out of paper. You didn't have the heart to tell Vyn, even though you had a feeling he knew already. That man could see right through you, and you expected nothing less from the greatest psychiatrist of Stellis. 

Looking at your boyfriend on his knees next to the blooming rosebushes, your vibe started to return to you. Before this day you never wanted to draw him, your sketch wouldn't be as beautiful as the man himself. But seeing him humbly tending to his precious flowers, your pencil holding hand started gliding over the paper without a second thought. 

The afternoon went by quietly, until the last rays of the sun dimmed and the only light came from the moon. A cold breeze shook you out of your trance, and you decided it was time to go inside and prepare dinner. You notified Vyn, and he agreed.  

''May I see it now?'' Curiosity got the best of him. ''After you wash up.'' you scolded him, and gently pushed him towards the kitchen sink. By the time he cleaned his hands and arms, you placed the book on the table, ready for him to see. When he turned around and gazed at the paper, a version of himself greeted him warmly. 

''It's...'' Vyn rarely found himself lost for words, but the sketch was beyond beautiful. He noted the beauty mark on his collar did not get lost in your observation. The way you portrayed him felt pure and natural; it made him smile tenderly. 

Regaining his composure, he walked over to your side of the table. His arms wrapped around your waist for a tight embrace. ''It is very beautiful. Thank you, my love.''  

I hope you all like it! on to the next ask.

See you in the next drabble!

Love, Hann ❤

[raining-in-my-soul]

may i please request a jonathan carnahan x reader drabble with prompt 29 please? tysm :)

Absolutely! I hope this is a long the lines of what you were looking for! I've never written for Jonathan before so I hope I did him justice. This was the first idea that popped in my head but I felt him doing something sly and cute was on brand for his character.

Thank you for requesting I had a lot of fun with this :)

Anyways here you go!

Warnings: None. Pure fluff

Not proofread so pls excuse any typos

Being with Jonathan Carnahan was always an adventure. No matter where you two went. Trouble, or at the very least, shenanigans, followed a man like Jonathan. But that's what had drawn you to him in the first place. Sure sometimes the artifacts he gifted you weren't always legally obtained but you know, it was the thought that counted.

He always shocked you with his thoughtfulness. Jewelry from a long dead queen's tomb he'd drape over your neck while proclaiming you to be his queen. A little trinket you'd been eyeing at a bazaar that he'd sneakily stuffed into your bag when you weren't looking, only to later find it and be touched at his thoughtfulness.

But his gift today certainly had to top them all in terms of curiosity. Jonathan had invited you to join him on another expedition out in the desert. You didn't even bother asking what it was in search of, you naturally said yes both for the love and adventure and simply to spend time with your beloved adventurer. You'd been digging in a promising spot for most of the morning, still sweating in the midday heat despite being under the comforting protection of a large umbrella stuck in the sand beside you. You'd been so focused on your work, you hadn't even noticed you'd been working alone for some time. A loud cough drew your attention away.

"What do you say to a break, my dear?" Jonathan offered with an outstretched canteen of cool water. You graciously took deep drinks of the refreshment and thanked him for the suggestion, it was only now you noticed how badly your back was aching.

Leading you to a nearby tent, the two of you sat under the canopy to rest in the shade. You noticed with a raised brow that Jonathan had that cheeky look on his face that he always got when he was about to surprise you with something. Before you could even ask, he whipped a bouquet of flowers from behind his back with a wide grin.

"Oh Jonathan! They're beautiful, thank you!" You beamed as you took the bouquet and brought them to your face to smell the perfume of the blooms. He beamed at your approval of the small gift before sitting down and pecking your cheek affectionately.

"Saw them and thought they were nearly as pretty as yourself." He sure had a way with words, you thought with a playful roll of your eyes. A bit cheesy sure but that's what you loved about him, he had no shame against being goofy if it got you to smile. His grin waned when he noticed a look of confusion wash over your face.

"What's wrong, darling? You don't like them?"

"No it's not that!" You quickly reassured him before letting out a giggle. "It's just… we're in the desert. Where did you get the flowers from?" You asked in utter bewilderment.

Jonathan only laughed along with you and tapped his nose with a twinkle in his eye before planting another sweet kiss to your lips.

[feralandmoonstruck]

“You know, I prefer you naked, but that dress also looks breathtaking on you.”

@bloodlessheirbyjacques 👀

Here you are @bloodlessheirbyjacques I doubt that I did either of them justice, but I took the brainworms and ran with them. Enjoy! 😘

WC: 1107

Warnings: Knives, blood

Alek looked up from where he’d been toying with the dagger, any thoughts that had been spinning though his mind snapped into their places as the door opened. Elijah had been scrubbed clean, though his wounds still spoke of the things he’d been through. The things Alek had put him through. But tonight, he planned to finally break him of all that smugness the pirate never seemed to be able to let go of.

“You can put him there,” he directed to the guards. “I want him on his knees. Don’t let him move.” Elijah garbled unintelligibly from behind the piece of cloth that had been shoved there to serve as his gag. Alek just watched, his eyes dancing as Elijah was chained down.

    Once the guards were gone and it was just the two of them, Alek crossed the room to stand above Elijah. “I hope you like the presents I brought you.” Elijah struggled against his bonds, his face going red with the force of his muffled shouts. “I’m feeling generous tonight, so I think I do you a small favor.”

Elijah glared as Alek bent over him and untied the knot holding the gag in place. He had the forethought to grab the pirate’s curls just in case Elijah had any plans to headbutt him. He ran his fingers through those thick locks, a smile playing at his lips at just how *soft* they were once washed clean of sweat and blood. “You know,” Alek whispered in his ear, lips so close they brushed his skin, “I prefer you naked, but that dress does look breathtaking on you.”

    “What the fuck are you playing at?” Elijah demanded the moment he was able to spit out the gag.

    “Think of it as a wedding present. From both of us. After all, you *are* the one who made this possible,” he lifted the wedding dagger with a smile. “It felt unfair to not show our thanks in some way. I always told you that she would come to me in the end. We all know that she’s far too go for you, and now you’ve seen it for yourself. *tasted* it for yourself. I hope it was to your liking. He rose to his feet, forcing Elijah to look up at him.

    “What the fuck does that mean?”

    Alek tilted his head to the side, tapping the flat of the dagger against his lips as if in deep thought. “Really? A man who claims to have held her heart for-” he let the silence draw out until Elijah opened his mouth to respond, then Alek resumed his sentence- “you would think that someone accustomed to sharing Astrea’s bed would know what she tastes like. I told you the gift was from both of us.”

    Elijah swore, but Alek’s fingers still buried in his hair gave a sharp enough tug that he couldn’t help but wince. “I assume that means you don’t like the dress either, even though I had it altered just to fit you.”

    “You think dressing me in my wife’s-”

    “My wife’s,” Alek corrected, yanking at Elijah’s curls again. “Say it, Elijah or I’ll take you back to being tortured in the dungeon.”

    “That doesn’t scare me.”

    Alek flipped the edge of the wedding dagger against Elijah’s cheek so fast it drew a thin line of blood. “So say it and I’ll keep you here to have a little fun before sending you back.”

    “You think dressing me in *Astrea’s* wedding dress was some sort of gift?”

    “A gift for me, yes. It symbolizes all that you had once hoped to have is now mine. And you’re just an afterthought that will only be remembered as the exiled heir that faded away into nothingness.” He leaned in close enough to lay his cheek against Elijah’s, only the dagger between them. “And Elijah,” he traced the tip of his tongue up the line of blood on his cheek, “I hope you can feel Astrea and I both there. I fucked her in that dress.” He pulled away, eyes dancing at the rage on Elijah’s face.

    “Fuck you, Alek.”

    He grabbed Elijah’s chin, forcing him to watch the grin unfolding on Alek's face. "You'll have to beg much harder than that, pirate." Elijah spat in his face. Alek jerked back, carefully wiping the spit away before smearing it into Elijah’s skin. "You're starting to wear on my patience."

"Good."

"It only means that I'm going to enjoy this even more." He drew the edge of the blade against Elijah’s jaw, trailing it down his neck and to the edge of the dress. His other hand buried itself in Elijah’s hair again. He pressed the point of the dagger through the fabric of Astrea’s dress. He dragged it downward, cutting through cloth and Elijah’s skin.

Elijah hissed at the bloom of blood unfolding on his chest. Alek’s gaze flickered up to him. For a moment, their breathing and the steady rip of fabric were the only sounds in the room. “What do you think she’ll say when she finds out you cut up her dress?”

“That I found an excellent use for a garment that had already served its purpose. Better this than letting it go to waste. She would thank me for the idea of ripping up two things that no longer have any meaning to her.” When the knife reached his navel, Alek pulled it away. He began the arduous task of cutting the fabric from Elijah’s arms, his thighs, his back until he was gasping in pain from the weeping rivulets of blood. Bruises were cut through, sealed wounds reopened, anything to feel the sweat break out over Elijah’s scalp. Anything to steal his breath. When the dress was finally in blood-soaked tatters Alek wiped the blade clean against Elijah’s cheek.

“Thank you for this wedding gift, you really shouldn’t have gone through all the trouble.” He stood and called for his guards to drag his prisoner back to the cells to be forgotten.

[cresswellslover]

Two Broken Souls

Gwynriel — One-Shot

After a long day full of discoveries, Azriel meets Gwyn for their private training session, and finds in her a calming and trustworthy companion.

Word count: 1760 | Warnings: HOSAB SPOILERS!

a/n: I love Gwynriel with all my heart. So with that being said, it’s obvious to me that it doesn’t matter what I do, I won’t ever think I did them justice. But I had a great deal of fun writing this one-shot, and I hope you guys love it and have fun too.

After a long and stressful day at work, Azriel had come across more trouble. So when he winnowed to the training ring, where Gwyn was already waiting for him, his head was pulsing with sharp pain.

He had always valued their private training sessions and awaited them in silent excitement. Even when his day had been the worse and his head was killing him. With Gwyn, he felt a kind of comfort he rarely found with anyone except his closest friends. And on days like today, her presence was calming, and a relief to his mind and pain. Their bantering while working out had always been a welcome distraction, and he longed for her unique playfulness more frequently than he should.

Azriel was almost an hour late for their training when he found the priestess reading, seated with a foot on either side of the ledge, bathing in the last rays of dusk.

“You’re late, Shadowsinger,” Gwyn purred, in that mocking tone so similar to his own.

He glared at her, his face blank.

She turned the page. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said, the corners of her mouth turning up. “Of course, I was warming up while I waited for you. I wasn’t just reading in your absence.” Gwyn’s teal eyes were skimming through the pages so fast, that he was sure she wasn't reading at all. Not anymore, at least. “I was just researching a rather specific topic about the Valkyries, as I caught my breath.”

Azriel approached her and leaned against the wall, hovering above her, trying to read over her head. “And what did you uncover?”

“Oh—Hm,” she tilted her head and closed the book, “Important things.”

His eyes narrowed. “Care to share, Berdara?”

Gwyn blushed faintly, enough to highlight her lovely freckles. “Not at all.” She got up, hiding the book behind her back. “But, well, since you’re late, I was going to snatch that knife of yours and—”

“You are reading one of Nesta’s books.”

Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“The book you’re hiding,” he beamed, pointing behind her. “What is the writer’s name again? Something ‘Drake’, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she laughed.

“Of course not,” he teased.

She wrinkled her nose and used the book to hit his side playfully.

As Gwyn walked away, Azriel glanced at her neck, searching for the necklace he knew wasn’t there.

Ever since he'd given the necklace to Clotho nearly a year ago, he’d been trying to find any indication that Gwyn had received his gift. Azriel had never seen her wearing it, and he never tried to find out why. None of the conclusions he drew for the absence of the necklace did please him. Had Clotho given it to someone else? Had Gwyn not liked it? Either way, he buried his disappointment and his hope she’d use it one day deep in his chest.

“Where are my favorite shadows?” she asked, taking him out of his thoughts.

On her tiptoes, she glanced behind him, waiting for his shadows to appear and greet her as usual. They had a particular inclination to exhibit themselves to her. And, to Azriel’s embarrassment, they liked to touch her cheeks and hair before he could stop them.

“They are in the River House with Nuala and Cerridwen, babysitting Nyx.”

He must have let something cross his face, some indication of what was troubling him because Gwyn went still, and her brows snapped together. “Is he okay?” she asked. “Did something happen?”

“He’s alright. Nyx is the safest kid in Prythian,” Azriel said, his voice as soft as velvet. He crossed the ring and grabbed a knife. “But something did happen.”

She took a step closer to him, the wind blowing through her coppery-brown hair. “What is it?”

Azriel sighed and shook his head. Needing a few more minutes of the quiet serenity of her presence, he asked, “How was your day in the library?” And threw the knife at the target on the other side of the ring, striking it perfectly in the center.

Confident and lethal.

“Fine,” she responded after a long pause.

Gwyn bent to grab a knife and her arm touched his. The soft pressure sent a chill down his spine. She threw the knife at the target, mimicking him.

Calm and secure.

The knife got stuck less than an inch beside his.

Competing had been their bounding since they accidentally met after the Solstice. And when Azriel and Gwyn started their private trainings, throwing knives was the game they chose to battle for. The rules were simple and the objective clear. The first one to miss the target loses.

At first, Gwyn was learning how to balance the knife and how to throw it perfectly. Now, she was as skilled as Azriel.

So after Azriel threw the first knife, Gwyn knew exactly what he wanted. So they kept going, getting more and more competitive with every breath as the sun disappeared on the horizon.

In the seventeenth round, Gwyn and Azriel threw the knives at the same time. The knives clashed midair, and Gwyn’s knife deflected Azriel’s, hitting the mark.

Azriel grunted and Gwyn extolled, “Now we’re even, Shadowsinger.”

Gwyn’s gleeful shout of victory was a melody worth losing for. And the sight of her…

She was utterly breathtaking.

“Will you tell the champ what’s going on?”

He shook his head, a permanent smile on his face. “It’s complicated.”

“Everything usually is. But I’ll help with anything you need.”

Azriel was aware of her willingness to do whatever she was capable of to help her friends. And he was thankful for her genuine disposition to support them—to support him.

So he told Gwyn what Nesta would sooner or later tell her and Emerie. He told her about the female fae with long wine-red hair he found earlier today, and about the Inner Circle’s thoughts of her being from another realm. Azriel told Gwyn what Rhys had said about a red star crossing the night sky months ago.

She concentrated on every word he said, awe transformed her face and her eyes burned with concern.

“Nesta mentioned you’re helping Merrill in her studies about other worlds, realms.”

Gwyn nodded, astonished but composed.

As far as he could tell, she was coping well with the idea of a multiverse—which was natural, given her work and studies, and proximity with the subject. Extremely different from Cassian’s reaction. After initial confusion, Azriel was sure his brother had almost swooned.

“There’s more,” he continued. “She doesn’t speak our language. But Rhys and Amren could communicate with her through the ancient language of the Fae. There seems to be some kind of connection between her world and ours—a common ancestor who links our past, maybe.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Some songs the priestesses sing at the evening services are sung in the ancient language of the Fae. I speak it a little myself,” she exclaimed. “Maybe I could try to communicate with the female you found. I can ask her some questions about the trajectory of her crossing, and how she got here.”

Azriel agreed. “I was going to ask you for books, articles—anything you can find that could help us understand what’s going on.”

“Right. I can do this. I will search for some books in the ancestral language too,” she said. “Do you want to come into the library with me?”

He paused. “I have somewhere else to be.”

“Oh—Okay.” She turned her head sideways, avoiding his stare. “Clotho might be able to help me. Do you think the High Lord would prefer to keep this matter a secret?”

“Ask for her help. But don't say anything about what happened.”

“My lips are sealed,” Gwyn promised as she walked out.

“I’m sorry,” Azriel said before she was gone. “For being late to our training. And for wasting your time.”

“Don’t worry, Shadowsinger. I read for an hour straight and had an excuse to do so.” Gwyn smiled. “Not to mention that I could enjoy more of the open sky and watch the sunset. You could be late once in a while.”

She waved her hand and walked away, leaving him alone with regret burning in his chest.

Azriel didn’t have time to dwell on things he could not change or examine things he could not manipulate. He was the spymaster of the Night Court. He had to be disciplined and diligent. Yet, as Gwyn thanked him for something as paltry as granting her a few more moments under the sun, something in him twisted, and his blood boiled with the images of that cursed day in Sangravah.

Gwyn was a lovely, strong female. She had lived some of the worst nightmares one could ever go through. And she hadn’t only survived them, she’d fought them back with teeth and nails. What happened in Sangravah and the Blood Rite didn’t destroy her. She became a Valkyrie and a Carynthian, and she found the strength to smile and laugh and be a kind friend while doing it.

Azriel wished he was more like her. Stronger and—well, better.

When she left their training sessions and went back to the library, frequently he caught himself thinking about her solitude in the library. But today…

Azriel wanted to help her. He wanted to see her walking down the streets of Velaris with Nesta and Emerie, shopping and having fun. He wanted to see her flying around with Cassian and Emerie—with him, if she felt safe in his arms.

But how can a broken soul help another one to heal?

Azriel didn’t know the answer to that, and maybe he never would. But he’d try his best to ignore his pain and ease her suffering in their training. He’d grant her some more minutes beneath the sun if she wanted to, even if he had to extend their training. He’d keep bantering with her to distract her from her past, and he’d keep secretly admiring Gwyn as she trained with the Valkyries. And he’d keep her happiness in his mind. Her smile, her bright teal eyes, her muttered threats of kicking his ass.

And in his sleepless nights, Azriel would summon the sound of Gwyn's laugh like a lullaby, to put him at ease and bring him a peaceful night of sleep. A hope that one day he would laugh easily, that he’d find happiness and make amends with his past.

One step at a time, until one day—when he was stronger, Azriel could help Gwyn’s soul rest and mend.

[acciofanfics]

Sundays|Sirius Black|

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: none!

A/N: I hope this is okay! It was such a cute idea and I hope I did it justice. -S

—————————

It wasn’t surprising that everything was a bit of an adjustment, a learning curve if you will. Sirius lost two of his closest friends. Harry lost his parents. Even in the midst of grieving Sirius hadn’t once thought about not stepping up and fulfilling his role as Harry’s godfather, not only because he loved the child but he knew the alternative was Lily’s sister and from everything he heard about them from James and Lily they were bloody dreadful. There was no way in hell that Sirius would ever do that to him willingly.

It did get better though, it truthfully did. While he still missed Harry’s parents everyday of his life, he and Harry were getting on fine. And Sirius wasn’t nearly as bad at being responsible as he thought he would be… for the most part.

It was a tradition of sorts to take Harry for ice cream on Sundays. Sometimes that meant for breakfast, depending on the day, but honestly did it really matter what time you consumed the dessert if desserts were going to be consumed anyways? He never understood why the timing seemed to matter. Plus the little store he liked to frequent served muffins and such, ideal breakfast food.

Sirius was never one to care about other people’s opinions so it didn’t bother him in the slightest when he got questioning looks from the servers dishing up different flavors of frozen delicacies at nine in the morning. He simply sat his 3 year old companion down at a little table and laughed along with him as he ice cream landed on everything in the general vicinity.

“Whoa, you two sure know how to start the morning right.” A friendly giggle drew Sirius’ attention from Harry, and was instead met with the sight of a woman smiling down at the child. A sensible coffee and muffin in hand, “Is it good?”

Harry nodded promptly, seemingly shy at the attention, but it wasn’t long at all before he was scooping a messy spoonful of semi-melted cream up and offering it to the stranger, “Wanna bite?”

“Oh! I couldn’t, that’s for you! Thank you very much though.” She chuckled at the way Harry nodded and shoveled it into his own mouth instead. She turned to Sirius, “He’s very polite and so adorable.”

It would be a lie to say that Harry hadn’t garnered attention before (most of it was from women). Still, Sirius never payed it much mind even though Remus had teased him once that he was surprised Sirius wasn’t using Harry to pull in potential prospects. But… there was something about her smile that made Sirius want to entertain the conversation, “Very. You should feel special, it’s not often he offers to share with me.”

She laughed at that, and Sirius quite enjoyed the sound. He might’ve been a little jealous that her attention was right back on Harry, but to be honest Harry was the cuter one of the two, how could he possibly blame her? After a few minutes of their conversation, the young woman turned back to him, “I’m sorry for interrupting your breakfast. I’ll let you two get back to it.”

“Oh! No interruption at all. In fact I’m sure he had more fun talking with someone new, instead of just me all the time.” As soon as the words left his mouth Sirius felt a little scummy, wondering how desperate he must’ve seemed trying to throw in the fact it was just him.

“Well, I quite enjoyed talking with you as well. Im here everyday around this time if you want some company. Unfortunately, I have to run today. It was very nice meeting you, Bye-Bye. Bye-Bye.” She said she was in a hurry but Sirius noticed she took the time to wave goodbye twice to Harry and lit up with he returned the simple hand gesture. Of course after that she was off… and he didn’t even have a chance to catch her name.

He didn’t take Harry back the next day, because he didn’t want to see to desperate. However, it was the day after and it took some convincing but he did manage to get the toddler to be satisfied with a Banana and a blueberry muffin instead of their usual when they frequented the joint. Sirius was pleased to see that his plan worked when he heard a familiar voice, “I see you decided on a much more conventional breakfast choice today.”

They “ran into” each other a lot more often after that. Sirius now knew her name, she knew both of theirs and she offered the sincerest of condolences when she put two and two together. Remus told him to just ask her out for the love of god, and Sirius really contemplated it. Though, he was a little nervous… completely out of character, sure. To be fair, he hadn’t been on a proper date since Lily and James, and if he was being honest he hadn’t quite clicked with someone so well before that really. He’d hate for Harry to lose the social interactions because he somehow managed to screw up the dynamic.

He was more than shocked when he blurted it out without speaking one morning, “I was thinking about taking Harry to the cinema, I think he’d enjoy a muggle movie. You should come too if you’re free… and perhaps dinner after?”

“Yeah, that sounds fun. There’s one thing though…” (Y/N)’s normally sure sounding voice wavered slightly, “After dinner… perhaps we could go for a drink… the two of us?”

“That sounds lovely.”

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Hi hi! I was wondering if you could do a dick Grayson x Avatar like fem reader with either a jealous Babs or Zatanna I hope that made sense🥲

True Love’s Kiss

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Nightwing x Reader

Warnings: I don’t think so

Word Count: 4.1K

@writing2sirvive : Hi love, me again but with a request this time. If you have time of course. I was thinking true love’s kiss with Dick Grayson. You can go crazy with it because I know you love Dick Grayson as much as I do. Btw I love your writing so much.

A/N: I think I did it wrong...cuz even though this is a Dick Grayson x reader fic, it’s mostly centred around reader and Zatanna???? Sorry about that???

You were fine with knowing that Dick was still friends with most of his exes. You completely accepted that he was able to keep functional relationships with most of them. In fact, it showed you how amicable and neutral Dick was and how he never held any grudges against people.

Of course, you were surprised by the sheer number. And the fact that he seems to interact with them practically every day. But eventually you managed not to let yourself get too bothered by it.

I mean, how could you? Barbara was the smartest, funniest, most approachable person you had ever met. She always made sure not to overstep her boundaries and was unusually open with you, given that Dick was her ex-boyfriend.

Raquel was adventurous and fun and you always had a good time when you were around her. She was another one who was respectful of your relationship. She never brought up her past flings with Dick, nor did she ever try and put you down. In fact, she was one of the people who really shipped the two of you.

You liked most of his exes. To the point where it made Dick kind of uncomfortable.

You liked most of his exes.

Ever since you had joined the team, being introduced as Nightwing’s significant other, Zatanna had been a constant thorn in your side. She was nice and sweet but there was something about her that rubbed you the wrong way. You could tell almost immediately that she wasn’t quite over her relationship with Dick. Short as it was.

Or maybe she was just the type of person who didn’t want someone, but didn’t want others to have the same person either.

Nonetheless, being around her put you constantly on edge. You lost count of how many times she redirected a conversation to be about her previous relationship with your boyfriend. ‘Oh, Dick took you to a fancy restaurant for your birthday? Well, I remember back when we were dating, he threw a huge party for me on mine.’

‘Oh, you celebrated your one-year anniversary with Dick in Paris? Well during our 3-month-aversary he bought me an expensive necklace.’

It didn’t bother you in the slightest. At least, not in the way that she hoped. It didn’t make you insecure or doubt or feel intimidated by her. It was just an annoyance that you couldn’t shake off, like the teacher you didn’t like or your annoying neighbour.

Unfortunately, Zatanna couldn’t take a hint that it made you and your friends (Barbara and Raquel included) uncomfortable and slightly irritated. Yet, everyone was just waiting for you to express the slightest distaste, not wanting to step on your toes. However, they were quick to change the topic in case they thought she was going too far.

Dick had been blissfully unaware of everything and you wanted to keep it that way. The last thing you needed was this turning into some sort of issue, especially since Zatanna was still his teammate.

However today you had enough.

You could look past Zatanna’s petty jealousy but allowing the jealousy to come to the forefront during a mission was where you drew the line.

Dick, M’Gann and Conner had been on a covert mission for Batman and out of the country and under team vote decided that you should be made in charge until he returned, since you were the only other older member (other than Zatanna but you were voted leader unanimously. Something you were extremely proud about). That was well and good, until you had been given a mission.

Regardless of how much you did not want to work with Zatanna without the others there to wrangle her, you had to put your personal feelings aside when you had a mission to complete.

You thought you could both be professionals about it and act like mature adults.

You were dead wrong.

If it wasn’t disagreements, it was insubordination. If it wasn’t insubordination, it was blatant arrogance. She questioned your judgment in front of the other members and even had the nerve to argue with you about mission strategies. You were trying to look out for everyone and put yourself in the line of fire since the squad members were better at stealth.

Zatanna seemed to think you were trying to steal the show and insisted that she be partnered with you even though you wanted someone with the younger members to keep them safe.

When you relented and agreed to go stealth, she accused you of ducking out and intentionally trying to put her in danger. The others had to watch as steam practically came out of your ears when you relented once again and decided you’d be with her because you honestly couldn’t argue with her much longer.

As if that wasn’t infuriating enough.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was when she refused to work as a team, putting the mission at risk and nearly getting the both of you hurt. She was fighting on her own, not bothering to have your back and going into it alone. Obviously, the two of you were overpowered quickly once they realized that you were pretty much behaving solo.

Luckily, the others pulled through and got you both out of there before anything horrible happened.

You sat in the ship, jaw clenched so tightly that they swore they could hear your teeth cracking, fists nearly white as you tried to control your anger and keep yourself from screaming at her while you were still in the air.

Once the ship landed in the docking bay and Zatanna was the first one to leave without saying another word, you snapped.

“What the hell did you think you were doing today!” You growled out, fisting her collar and stopping her in her tracks.

“What are you talking about?” She feigned innocence and you felt your skin burning. Everything around you faded out and all you could feel was fury. In hindsight, you would have liked to handle this issue in a more refined manner, but you honestly couldn’t care.

So, you didn’t notice the rest of the team, along with the a few members of the Justice League watching you chew Zatanna out.

Whatever would keep you from lighting her on fire was enough.

“I’m talking about putting the mission, not to mention ourselves in jeopardy, all because you can’t stop acting like a spoilt brat!” You hissed.

She rolled her eyes and you and the thought of strangling her briefly crossed your mind before she shoved your hands off her, dusting herself off like your fingerprints were dirt, “You need to stop blaming others for your inadequacy.”

She turned on her heel sharply and walked away. Blood pounded through your ears and your fingers twitched by their sides before you formed a whip of water from the bay and lashed it against her feet.

Zatanna, caught off guard, was thrown across the room before she caught herself with a muttered spell and turned around, glaring at you furiously.

“We’re going to settle things, right here, right now!”

“If you would stop being so insecure, then we could sort out our differences like mature adults!” She screamed back at you and before you could control it, flames erupted from beneath your feet and raced towards her, scorching the ground beneath it.

Each puff of breath you took released sparks. Zatanna immediately got into an offensive stance, levitating one of the weapons crates and chucking at you. You blocked it effortlessly using a wall of earth before throwing an inferno at her.

You kept fighting, flames and splashes of water going into the air every time you collided. The others watched in fear as you both raced towards each other, it looked like neither of you were holding back.

Before you could strike her again, you were being pulled away by Superman and as Zatanna was by Batman, they both pulled you yards apart. Even with his strong, authoritative grip on you, you couldn’t stop thrashing in his arms, throwing gusts of air at her.

“(Y/N). Enough.” Superman spoke in your ear and you calmed down, relaxing in his grip. He let you go after and you winced, feeling your skin bruise where he grabbed you. He gave you an apologetic glance at that.

“You both have to put your differences aside and work as a team or you won’t be allowed to go on any more missions.” Batman told you, voice firm but it didn’t shake you.

“No, Zatanna is going to have to put her issues with me aside and learn that when I have been elected as leader of the squad then you are supposed to put your petty jealousy aside and know your place.” You spat.

“You weren’t right for the position!”

“I did everything right! And if it hadn’t been for you, we wouldn’t have been under open fire tonight!”

“You’re not the boss of me!”

“When I am the leader of the squadron then I am! And you’re meant to listen and not question my judgement because you’re being blinded by your pathetic jealously!”

“I’m not jealous of you!”

“Oh, please! That’s the biggest load of crap I’ve heard from you and it was all proved today! Admit it! You were immature and fucking stupid because you can’t get over that fact that you dated Dick for what? 3 months?”

“That’s because he’s supposed to be with me!” 

“LIKE HELL HE IS!” You roared.

Batman felt a little helpless watching the two of you scream at each other. All this fighting? Over a boy? His son, no less? He had other sons and you were free to have your pick. But at this point, he wasn’t even sure what to say.

“You just can’t seem to accept the fact that he doesn’t love you anymore! Get over it! Because he certainly has!” You shouted, spinning on your heel and stomping away from her, determined to have the last word. Superman sighed in relief. He thought another fight would break out.

“You’re just insecure because you know that if he had the chance, he would come crawling back to me!”

A chill went done your spine and you felt cold fury run through your veins, turning around to glare at her murderously and clenching your hands tightly. You were so angry your feet were rooted to the floor, body seizing up slightly.

The others looked anxiously between the two of you as you glared at each other for a minute before you spoke with the calmest, yet most terrifying voice they’ve ever heard from you.

“Zatanna, you can try your damn hardest to win him back. But I promise you, you’re never going to get what you want.” You told her darkly, before walking away.

As Zatanna glared at your receding figure she decided she was going to prove you wrong.

***

To keep you from fighting with Zatanna again, when Batman came to you with a solo mission you couldn’t agree fast enough. Even though you knew you’d miss Dick’s homecoming, you still wanted to get the hell away from here. Not like you’d be missing anything important, other than Zatanna fawning over him.

You’d get to tell him how much you missed him in private anyway.

As soon as you were out of the cave, you couldn’t help the relief that filled your bones. You had been so on edge the past few days, still furious with her so the distance between the two of you was appreciated.

When Dick got home, he was ecstatic to see you again. It had been nearly 3 weeks since he had last held you and his skin was practically buzzing with excitement when he reached a cave, desperate to hug you, kiss you, touch you.

He got to the mess hall quickly, running all the way there and when he opened the door, he was instantly disappointed. You weren’t there.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” He asked Beast Boy, hoping he would tell him that you were just back at your apartment or that you had gone out for a while and would be back soon but he felt his heart sink when Gar gave him a sympathetic smile.

“She’s on a mission for a week.”

“A mission? Who’s with her?”

“No one. It’s a solo mission.”

Now he was worried. You usually didn’t take solo missions, liking to work in a team, knowing that there would be people who would be watching your back was reassuring. He knew you were more than skilled to handle a solo mission but not being by your side made him nervous and slightly antsy.

He was also upset that you weren’t here. So, he decided to do the most adult thing. Go home and sulk in bed while holding your sweatshirt that smelt like you.

But apparently the world had something against him because when he was about to go through the Zeta tube he was intercepted. By non other than Zatanna.

Now, poor clueless Dick had no idea that you had thrown hands with Zatanna just a day ago and was the reason why you weren’t there to welcome him when he got back. If he had he would’ve sulked at her and whined loudly for her to hear while he dragged his feet.

But, poor clueless Dick had absolutely no idea Zatanna was the reason he was being deprived of your kisses. So, he just smiled brightly at her and asked her if she needed anything.

“As a matter of fact, I found an old spell and I need someone to test it out on!”

“I don’t know how I feel about being your non-scientific experiment, Z.”

“Come on, it’s totally harmless, I promise.”

“I don’t know...”

“Don’t you trust me?”

He did. But there was just something about this situation that made him uncomfortable. Maybe it was because he missed you like crazy and just wanted to go home and sulk until you came back. Maybe it was because he felt uncomfortable to go somewhere private with his ex-girlfriend without telling you first. Or maybe it was because of the way Zatanna felt the need to guilt him into it.

Nevertheless, he agreed, albeit reluctantly and went to her room. Inside Zatanna had a bunch of ruins written on a paper and some weird poultices beside it.

“Now this isn’t going to work unless you give me your consent.” She informed, bustling about the room and Dick suddenly felt the air was a little stuffy.

“What do you mean by consent? Consent for what?”

“It’s a love spell.” She told him, smiling slyly but he couldn’t quite understand why. His hands got a little clammy at the announcement. What did she mean by love spell? Was she trying to get him to fall in love with her? Why would she be so open about it then? Especially when she knew he was in love with someone else?

“What do you mean?”

“Oh relax, stop being so tense. It’s just a love spell that proves who you truly love.” She said, immediately noticing how stiff his body was. Though she chalked it up to confusion. Dick was simply confused about who he loved, he was clouded by his attraction to you and he felt guilty about being unfaithful. But deep down, he really loved her. And this spell would prove it.

“In the olden ages, people would use it on their wedding to prove that their significant other truly loved them.”

He nodded, mouth falling open with realization. He already knew what the answer would be so why even bother? He assumed it was because Zatanna was curious to whether it actually worked.

“Too bad (Y/N) isn’t here, I mean I know who I love but I’d like to try it out on her. I mean, who takes a mission the day before their boyfriend comes back to town.” He complained, more to himself but Zatanna still heard it.

“Anyway, can I cast it on you?”

“Sure, couldn’t hurt.”

Oh, how he’d come to know just how wrong he was.

***

You raced through the halls, panicked, hearing your heart beat out of your chest as you sprinted to the Med Bay. Even though you were running as quick as possible you still pumped your legs to run faster, needing to get there quickly.

As soon as you saw Zatanna outside the Med Bay, you skidded to a stop in front of her and grabbing her collar, pinning her against the wall. She hit it with a thud and she saw white for a second when her head collided with the hard surface.

It was then you got a good look at her face. Her eyes were red and face wet. Her lips were bitten until they bled. You gritted your teeth, grip tightening around the collar as tears pricked your eyes.

“What the hell did you do!”

She whimpered, eyes getting glossy again before she started crying, incomprehensible words leaving her lips and you snarled before shaking her again, “You don’t get to cry! What the hell did you do to him!”

“It was a love spell!” She cried out, “It was supposed to reveal who he truly loves.”

“AND?!”

“It’s activated by a kiss.” She sniffled, “And I did.”

“Is it done?” Dick asked just as she finished casting the spell. His body was enveloped by a slight glow that was only visible to her and Zatanna’s lips curled when she realized it had worked. Now there was only one thing left to do.

“Yep.” She said, slinking over to his side and he pouted curiously.

“Are you sure? I don’t feel any different. You said it was supposed to reveal who I love. What happened?”

“We’re gonna find that out. Hold still.” She said, smiling and wrapping her arms around his neck to press a kiss to his lips. Dick froze, feeling her lips move against his and his mind went blank for a second before his chest contracted painfully.

He gasped against her mouth, before his legs buckled and he tumbled to the ground. Zatanna’s eyes widened when she saw the way his body twitched, pained gasps leaving his mouth and tears began falling from his eyes.

“Are you okay?!” She panicked, wrapping her arms around his thrashing figure but he couldn’t choke out an answer.

“Someone help! Anyone! Please!”

“A kiss doesn’t put people through cardiac arrest!” You screamed, feeling your chest tighten as you heard it out loud for the first time. Your eyes began burning and your throat contracted, feeling tears build. It was the first time you had admitted it to yourself.

You were scared. Emotions that you could barely process or understand swirled around you in a dark cloud and you were scared that Dick wouldn’t make it out of his critical state. If he was taken away from you because you hadn’t been there to stop it, you would never forgive yourself.

“I’m sorry.” She whimpered, sobbing and her body went limp in your fists. The urge to rip her head off her shoulders resurfaced. She didn’t get to be upset, not when this was all her fault.

“I don’t give a shit.” You hissed, “How do we save him?”

“A true love’s kiss should stop all the side effects.” She whispered, looking up at you with wide eyes, “If Dick truly loves you, then when you kiss him, it’ll reverse the spell.”

You needed to get in there.

You released your hold and Zatanna and she slid to the floor pathetically, holding her body as she cried. But even with her heartbroken sobs, you couldn’t feel any sort of remorse to her, glaring at her instead, “You better hope this works. Or I’ll kill you myself.”

And then you rushed in.

When you got to Dick’s side your breath stuttered when you noticed just how many things he was connected to and you felt your body shake. Batman was carefully watching him from his bedside.

You carefully walked to his side, gently brushing your fingers against his cheekbone. He looked like he was in so much pain. He looked so weak. You wanted to help him but a part of you was scared. For the first time in your life, you doubted Dick’s feelings for you.

The time you needed his love and devotion to be true the most, you were doubtful. A million thoughts rushed through your head and for a second you were tempted to just avoid doing this at all. But you knew that you had to at least try.

So, with trembling hands, you held the ventilator fastened to his mouth, taking a deep breath before tugging it off. Batman, already knowing what you were about to do, let you pull it off him before pressing a fluttering kiss to his lips. Tears gathered underneath your lashes when you didn’t feel anything happen.

Just when you were about to pull away, Dick took a deep breath through his nose and panted against your mouth, kissing you more firmly. You couldn’t help the sob that bubbled out of your throat and he swallowed it without any qualms.

Even through bleary vision, you were able to make out his blue eyes and the small smile on his face. 

His hands came up to weakly cup for cheeks, gently wiping away the tears with his thumbs, “I missed you.”

You sniffled, letting more tears fall because you knew he’d be here to wipe them away, “I missed you too.”

***

Bonus:

You walked into the mess hall quietly. Dick had just fallen asleep in the Med Bay where he would be kept for a couple days under observation. It was past 1 in the night and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed but you had some unfinished business left to handle.

It was dark and it was hard to make out your surroundings until your eyes adjusted to the darkness. As you walked to the kitchen island, your eyes landed on the sorceress that had her head in her arms and wondered if she was asleep. Batman had said you were free to deal with her anyway you liked and that had been exactly your plan.

“He’s okay now, if you’re curious.” You told her. Her head shot up and she looked at you out of the corner of her eye before bowing it away shamefully. But you caught a glance at her face. She looked like she had been crying for hours, eyes bloodshot and face red and blotchy.

“Thank god.” She croaked out.

There was a beat of silence.

“I’m so so sorry, (Y/N).” Zatanna whimpered out before crying again, “You were right. I was jealous. And I did a crazy, wrong thing. And I’m so sorry.”

You sighed, nodding at her apology even though you knew she couldn’t see you. You weren’t sure if you accepted it, and you didn’t have to. For now, it could remain in the air.

“He really doesn’t love me....” She whispered out and you sighed once again, stepping up beside her and setting something on the table.

Zatanna glanced at the bottle of tequila and the two shot glasses you left. You didn’t look at her, instead choosing to stare straight ahead. You opened the bottle, pouring yourself a shot before tilting your head back and downing it, hissing at the burn.

“Obligatory break-up drink.” You mumbled, pouring her a shot and passing the glass to her.

She sniffled, looking at the glass in her hands before gulping it down. You took a deep breath, refilling the glasses. You still didn’t look at her, didn’t speak to her, just poured a refill when either of you finished and downed it in one gulp. The excitement from today and the tense feeling from sitting beside Zatanna kept you from getting drunk too early.

You two ended up finishing half the bottle, drinking in the dark until she passed out first and you followed soon after.

The others found you the next morning, passed out at the kitchen island, clutching empty shot glasses.

***

Bonus bonus:

Batman sighed, smelling the overwhelming scent of tequila as he came closer. None of them were able to wake either of you up. You were out cold, face scrunched up and head against the table in a position that would no doubt have your neck in a crick.

Zatanna was no better. Her hair was a mess, tequila spilt on her clothes and she was drooling all over the table, snoring unattractively.

“All this over a boy?”

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

[butter--peanut]

The Lonely Planet’s Guide to Feeling Things and Getting Railed (E, 5325 words)

I’m part of a lovely discord server and today we had a gift exchange of canon x canon characters! I drew @uchiharomance​ whose OTP is SasuSaku. It was super fun to challenge myself to try play with pairings I’ve never written before, though a bit scary because I want to do the characters and their relationship justice. Anyway, I hope you like this, Jess! 

Title: The Lonely Planet’s Guide to Feeling Things and Getting Railed

(or: The roundabout way that Sasuke and Sakura ended up traveling together post-Shippuden).

Pairings: Sakura/Sasuke, Naruto/Hinata, past Saku/Ino, hint of sns

Rating: Explicit

Some Ao3 tags for the vibe: Sasuke being a doofus who doesn't understand himself; Dom Haruno Sakura; Sub Uchiha Sasuke; smut and feelings; Humor; or more like "wry irony" bc Sasuke; Sakura and Sasuke have BBE (big bisexual energy)

Ao3 link: Here

Sakura rode him like she was competing in a triathlon. Maximum energy, full commitment, her cunt strangling his dick, sea-green eyes narrowed, watching closely as he tilted toward inevitable destruction.

“Don’t come yet,” she ordered him.

He grunted. “You’re making it — difficult—”

“I don’t care.” Deep press and clench. She would end him.

“Sakura,” he gasped. “I — I will—”

She briskly grabbed his shoulders and flipped them around, and now she was lying back on the bed and he was over her, still inside her slick walls, his thighs trembling with the effort of holding himself up above her.

“Go on, then,” she said. “Set the pace. Keep yourself going. As long as you can.”

He did his best.

“Right,” she said brightly, when he was dazed and staring up at the ceiling. In the minutes that he had spent recovering, she had already showered and dressed in her hospital whites. “You’re coming back next week, aren’t you.” Not a question.

“Hn.”

Sasuke closed his eyes. He felt her lean forward, her hair tickling his neck. She gently sucked on his Adam’s apple, making his cock twitch optimistically.

Then she was gone, leaving him boneless on her bed.

***

He’d never predicted it would turn out like this.

Two years after he’d left Konoha, he came back, surreptitiously, because the Hokage had asked for an update about the Otsutsuki issue. He was hoping to avoid all old faces except the target of his report. But when he arrived at Kakashi’s office both Naruto and Sakura were there, Naruto beaming widely, Sakura giving him a small, nervous smile. “Talking pugs do like to gossip,” Kakashi said, his eye a lazy arch, as Sasuke glared at him over Naruto’s hug.

Naruto insisted that the three of them go for dinner at Ichiraku’s. Over heavy slurping sounds, Naruto told Sasuke about his activities during the time Sasuke had been away: how he was taking missions, preparing for exams that would make him eligible to progress to Jonin, and spending a notable amount of time with Hyuuga Hinata, a warm flush around his cheeks when he talked about her that wasn’t solely from the steam drifting up from the three bowls in front of him.

Sakura didn’t speak much. She drank beer — an incongruous choice; he would have predicted wine or spirits — and stared at her ramen, making ripples with her chopsticks in the broth.

“Sakura-chan is the head of the hospital now,” Naruto said proudly, when he had finished the summary of his own activities. “And she’s helping to open a mental health ward for children affected by trauma.”

“Congratulations,” Sasuke said to her stiltedly. He was impressed — to be nineteen years old and the head of a hospital was a feat by anyone’s measure — but he was also too distracted to sound sincere. The longer they all sat here, the longer they discussed their present selves, the more likely they were to shift to their future selves. And then that would give Sakura the opening to ask her question. If this time, when he left Konoha, he would take her with him like he had promised.

He wasn’t ready yet.

He had thought that by now he would be settled. He would understand the world, how it had so much awfulness as well as beauty, and he would have come to terms with himself: all the hatred he had inside him; all the people he had killed when growing stronger; his plan to destroy Konoha, to cut all the bonds that he had shakingly grown. How he had been shaped to a fine blade by his brother and then his brother had fallen on that blade. He would know all of this, know himself, and then he would be ready to follow the traditional path laid out for him, to accept the love of another and start a family. With Sakura, he supposed. She had loved him for many years, and he was more grateful than she would ever know about her unshaking belief in him, her love despite his crimes. He knew little about Sakura, but he knew that she loved him. That should have been enough.

But in all his time traveling, he had had none of these realisations. He understood the Uchiha’s curse of hatred intellectually, but he didn’t understand how it could have gripped him so closely. How his body could have held so much rage that he spent ten years in pursuit of his brother’s blood against the stones, and then switched dizzyingly-fast to destroy those who had destroyed Itachi; felt his blood boiling with need to make all those he had grown with suffer. How he had abandoned his old team and his new team. How he had tried to kill Naruto. How he had tried to kill Sakura. And if he couldn’t understand his own motivations, how could he possibly understand those of others in the world? His quest for atonement and understanding had now lasted two years, but he had gained nothing in that time.

He thought he knew the reason why. It was difficult to understand emotion when you couldn’t feel emotion.

On his travels he helped where he could, and he served his village, collecting information for the Hokage, doing the odd extra mission where requested. But throughout this, all he felt, every day since he had left Konoha, was a listless apathy, a thick haze of faded grey blanketing his mind. The Uchiha were known for their strong emotion, and now he barely felt like an Uchiha anymore, his friendship for Naruto the closest thing to a feeling that he had left.

With this emptiness, the thought of having someone by his side who expected love, and to be cared for, and, just, a display of emotions of any sort, felt ludicrous. He couldn’t have Sakura travel with him, as much as he expected this to happen one day in the (distant) future. He needed more time to learn. He needed more time to atone.

Sakura was talking about the mental health ward. Sasuke nodded periodically as though he hadn’t been distracted by his own thoughts. But Sakura was perceptive, and she could see he hadn’t been listening. She rolled her eyes and skulled the rest of her beer. Perhaps now that he had accidentally insulted her, he thought vaguely, she wouldn’t ask him.

“There’s nothing you can say about your big journey?” Naruto asked, frustrated, and Sasuke shook his head. He wished Naruto would just stop talking. He wished no one would mention his journey, because that would give Sakura an opening to ask him, and then he would have to—

“Oh!” Naruto jumped up. “I forgot. I have my practice exam in,” he looked at the clock above Ichiraku’s, “ten minutes ago. Iruka-sensei is going to kill me.” He gave Sasuke a quick hug. “Stay the night, teme. We still have to catch up properly.” He hugged Sakura too, then ran off.

Now the tension in the room increased severalfold, and Sasuke intensely regretted being granted his wish. He could see Sakura steeling herself for her question, and he too took a breath, thinking of her oncoming pain at his necessary rejection.

“Sasuke,” she said.

“Sakura,” he said.

“You can’t come with me,” he said, at the same time as she said, “I can’t come with you.”

They stared at each other.

“What?” he asked, and she said, “Excuse me?”

A beat.

“Sakura,” he said slowly, “you don’t want to travel with me?”

Sakura frowned at him. “I waited two months,” she said. “You were gone for two years. I don’t know what you were expecting from me, but I wasn’t going to put my life on hold for you. I just told you about my work at the mental health ward. I’m in charge of the development program for psychologists. We’re planning a completely new system and I can’t step away from that.” She glared at the wall. “If you’d listened to me for one whole minute today you would have understood that. I’m needed here. I can’t travel with you.”

Oh.

Sakura had — stopped waiting for him.

She had given up on him.

He should have been relieved to learn this, because it meant she was happy to let him free to travel alone, but all he felt was a strange discomfort. As long as he had known her, Sakura’s — interest, infatuation, eventually love — in him had been a constant. To lose it now, after everything he’d done…

Apparently deserting Konoha wasn’t enough to destroy her love, but making a promise that he would return for her and then arriving late was.

“What about you?” she asked him. “If you didn’t want to travel with me, you could have sent a letter. Then I would have known. Then I could have — I could have…” She growled; looked away.

He shrugged. He didn’t know what to say; couldn’t explain something he didn’t understand.

He stood up, ramen barely touched, said, “I should go.”

“Oh, come on, Sasuke, Naruto asked—”

“See you,” he interrupted, and made his way to the curtain.

“Stop,” she snarled at him.

He froze. Felt a shiver of something ricochet down his spine.

…What?

Had Sakura ever spoken to him in that way before? She had to Naruto, of course; Sasuke had watched her shout at him and punch him near daily when they were in Team Seven. But he couldn’t remember her directing that particular part of her personality to him. She’d always been shy, demure, ready to do anything he asked of her.

He turned. She was watching him steadily, hand clasped around the beer.

“Don’t leave tonight,” she ordered, meeting his gaze forcefully. He couldn’t look away. Had she always been this otherworldly colourful, with strands of pink hair twisting free from behind her ear, red vest popping hyper-real against the backdrop of greys in Ichiraku’s? “Wait until Naruto sees you again. He was so happy when he heard you were on your way back. Wait to leave until tomorrow. Talk to him. Then you can go.”

She assessed him, her green eyes gleaming, waiting for his agreement. He nodded slowly. Apparently satisfied, she turned back to her meal.  

It was only when she looked away that he felt capable of leaving.

He wandered across Konoha’s rooftops for several hours, feeling dazed from the force of that something. How had Sakura done it? How had she given him back a spark of feeling when he’d felt so little for so long?

He replayed her harsh stop in his head multiple times. It hadn’t been the anger per se; more the effortless command in her voice. The certainty that if she spoke to him in such a way he would obey.

He shivered, an echo of the feeling returning.

He certainly hadn’t planned to stay the night in Konoha. He didn’t have a home ready for him here, and he had no interest in paying for a hotel room in his own village. Naruto would probably put him up. He would talk until 3am relaying all his hopes and dreams about becoming Hokage and, most likely, too much information about his crush on Hinata. Sasuke would pretend not to care, would tell Naruto repeatedly to go to sleep, but it would still be an enjoyable evening.

Instead, he tracked Sakura’s chakra signature with his Rinnegan and went to stand outside the door of her apartment. He hovered a hand above her door for nearly a minute, confused by the desire to knock that was equally as strong as the desire to turn and slide back into the shadows.

It swung open. Sakura had changed into loungewear, grey sweats and a pink camisole. She wasn’t wearing a bra. He could see through his peripheral vision the indents of her nipples against the fabric.

“What is it?” she asked him shortly.

He had no clue what it was.

He didn’t know what she saw in his expression, but after several moments of silence, she rubbed her forehead and said, “Come in,” turning away, letting him into her apartment. He dropped his cloak on a hook beside the door and turned back to her. The space was neat apart from the coffee table, piled with scrolls and ink pots, some pieces of parchment dripping down to the white fluffy rug below.

“There’s a lot of paperwork to open a new department and connect it to the others,” she said, noticing his gaze. “Would you like tea?”

He didn’t respond, but she brought him tea anyway. It was too hot, but there was nowhere to put it with the coffee table currently occupied, so he gripped it by the edge of the cup and tried not to burn himself. Thought of the strange irony of being able to mould fire yet have hands sensitive to the heat of just-boiled water.

“Why are you here?” she asked him.

He stared at the cup, trying to unlock the key to his emotions earlier.

“You…surprised me,” he said slowly. That was part of it, maybe.

“I surprised you,” she repeated dubiously. “When I said I couldn’t travel with you?”

“No. Yes.” Staring so intently at the twisting leaves in the green tea, as though they could explain it all for him.

She sighed. “Do you want an apology?”

“No. I…”

This was too much. This was a bad idea.

“I — sorry,” he said, getting up, and turned to leave.

“Oh, come back here,” she growled, and he shivered. Because there it was, that feeling but even stronger this time, like he was primed for it now. Suffusing his whole body from the crown of his head down to the tips of his toes through his sandals.

He turned back to her. She was already wincing and turning away.

“Sorry,” she said. “That was rude. I’m just tired. It’s been a long—”

“No.” His voice was rough. His eyes were locked on her. “Sakura. Keep going.”

She looked confused. Then some connection sparked, perhaps thinking back to earlier that night. She walked up to him and pressed her finger against his chest. It wasn’t painful, but the impact winded just the same.

“You’re going to stop avoiding the question,” she told him authoritatively. “For once in your life, Sasuke, you’re going to stop running, and you’re going to give me an answer that allows me to understand you. Tell me what you want.”

“To — feel,” he said, the words drawn out of him before he’d decided to talk. “When you spoke that way, I…” He trailed off; frowned at himself from the difficulty of articulating.

“When I spoke in what way?” she asked, frustrated. “When I told you to do things? What does that mean? Tell me.”

His hand shivered, and tea splashed out from the top of his cup and against her white rug. Both of them looked down. Both of them caught the obvious evidence of his erection tenting his trousers.

“Oh,” she said faintly, echoing his thoughts.

They both stared at his cock. The clock on her windowsill ticked. Sasuke could feel his cheeks hot and flushed. Somehow his intense embarrassment did nothing to dent his hard-on.

Eventually she looked back up to meet his gaze. Considering. Somewhat intrigued.

“Do you need this?” she asked him clinically. As though she knew his answer but wanted to hear it from him.

She called for honestly. He gave it to her.

She nodded to herself.

“Come in, then,” she said, and turned and walked away, into the bedroom.

He followed.

***

He wasn’t under any illusions: this wasn’t about love. Sakura’s love for him had gone; disappeared ephemeral into the leaves around their hidden village while he was away. She was doing this for him because she was kind — had always been so kind — and because she was a medic, and he needed to be fixed. It wasn’t about love.

It was hot, though.

She had been with Ino, apparently; a five-month journey of understanding that sounded far more insightful and productive than his own. This experience had given her a new confidence, as well as a large pile of sex toys that they’d split between them evenly when they had broken up.

She had a strap-on, and she used it, easing him open gradually with her fingers first, slick with lube from a jar three-quarters empty. “Relax, Sasuke,” she said, a firm hand gripping his thigh to pull his waist upward, and this staying hand was necessary: on her words his muscles unwound and he slackened into the bed, only his cock unable to follow her guidance, jutting out, smearing precome on the sheets.

Sakura liked to gag him, because she said then he made more sound, and Sasuke would easily admit that this was true. Something about being unable to form words made the moans come easier, like there were no defences necessary without the option to speak.

Sakura was so strong. He had always known this, but not really thought about what that meant outside of the battlefield. She could channel chakra so precisely that she could lift his entire body with a single finger wedged inside his mouth. She could move him like a ragdoll to shift into dozens of positions without him pulling out of her. When he visited her at a training field he saw her shatter a training post with a punch, sending thousands of tiny splinters flying in multiple directions, forcing him to switch places with a tree a decent distance away to emerge unscathed. When he walked back over she was looking sheepish, but that quickly disappeared when she made out his expression; saw just how much he was affected by her strength.

And throughout it all, he felt, he felt.

***

Sasuke realised now that he had never truly wanted someone before. He’d been vaguely attracted to people in the past, including both Naruto and Sakura, but these sensations had been fleeting, quickly quashed. He’d never felt this. Where he couldn’t help but track each movement she made in a room. Where the slightest patch of skin, the lightest glance, the shortest snap of a smile would make him wild, desperate to bridge the gap between them. When every shared glance held both a question and a promise.

(In these moments, he was grateful for how well his cloak concealed.)

Of course, he left the village. He couldn’t stay in Konoha: he had his journey, and his mission, and Konoha was stifling when he stayed too long, filled with his losses and his bad decisions.

He couldn’t stay in Konoha, but when he was away, he couldn’t wait to come back. He would return every few weeks for the weekend, and he would spend the days with Naruto and Sakura and the evenings with Sakura. Naruto was ecstatic that Sasuke was spending more time in the village. Sasuke was thankful that Naruto was busy and preoccupied enough with his crush that he didn’t ask why.

Sometimes every few weekends wasn’t enough, and Sasuke would sneak back into Konoha’s gates after midnight just to see her. She’d grudgingly reset her wards to allow him through, so he would slip in the window, drop his clothes with enough of a sound to wake her, and crawl into bed.

“Do you know how early I have to wake up tomorrow — oh, Sage,” she said, and moaned, as he dove down between her legs.

(Sometimes he used the Rinnegan just as she used her strength. He could warp gravity that way, making them hover over the bed, able to twist around each-other where there was no grounding, contact from any angle, every side a sky.)

***

“I want to kiss her,” Naruto confided to him when they met at a bar one night, sounding unusually anxious. “But I don’t know how to ask. I don’t know if Hinata even wants that. Have you ever — you know…tried to kiss someone before?”

He imagined what he could say. Naruto, do you mean the kiss where my arms and my legs are tied and there’s rope tight cinching around the head of my cock and Sakura drags her lips across it? Or do you mean the kiss with teeth that draws blood while she’s bearing down on me? Do you mean the kiss after the act, where I’m exhausted and so is she and still somehow she finds the energy to lean across and claim my mouth?

“I’ve kissed you,” he said, shrugging.

Naruto blushed; looked quickly away. “Shut up, idiot. You know what I mean. Like, because you planned it and you wanted to do it. Have you?”

Sakura was walking back with a round of drinks for everyone, question in her eyes at Naruto’s surreptitious glances.

“Naruto is asking if I’ve kissed someone,” Sasuke said blandly, uncaring.

“Oh,” she said. She primly sat in front of him. Looked demure over her eyelashes. “Have you?”

He’d never enjoyed games, but this sort of game, this tease with sharp promise, was the sort he could savour.

“No,” he said. Naruto crowed in satisfaction, and Sakura arched the slightest of eyebrows. “But she’s kissed me.”

Naruto was confused by this. Sakura smiled quickly, like she couldn’t help herself, then quickly straightened out her expression.

“You’re both being weird,” Naruto complained. They carefully didn’t look at each-other. Naruto’s courtship of Hinata was innocent, sweet. There wasn’t any way to explain to Naruto just what they’d fallen into.

“That’s right,” she told him afterwards, strapping his arms behind him, her thighs spread wide hugging his own. Into his neck she bit, then kissed, licking the bite mark, her hand drifting down his waist. “I hope you’ve marked each of those kisses, Sasuke. I hope you’ve kept check of them in a little notebook so we can refer to them when anyone else asks about us.”

He laughed a little, and her hand stilled.

“You know, I can count on one hand the times I’ve heard you laugh,” she said, some odd inflection in her voice.

He shrugged, uncomfortable now. “The world usually isn’t funny.”

“And I am?” He felt her tense behind him. “Are you laughing at me?”

That was such an absurd question that he laughed again. “No,” he said. Then, “You’ve just…”

He’d never felt playful with anyone. Not since his family had been alive. This, with her, was the first time the world had felt bright enough to play.

“You’re funny sometimes, Sakura.”

His fondness was obvious as he said it, and she said “Oh,” just like that first oh, in their living room above spilt tea. She leaned to press her mouth against his neck again, and this time he felt her lips form a smile. He smiled back without thinking about it, though she wouldn’t see it from behind him.

It was the first time she made him feel without ordering him.

Of course, that was when the flood began.

***

He dreamed of his brother’s death that night, and then the massacre, bodies piling up around him; and then finally from memory to what could have been, faces on the corpses becoming classmates he could have felled, his teachers, his teammates.

He woke gasping, Sakura up beside him, shaking him softly.

“What’s wrong?”

He looked at her eyes; tried to focus on the green, but it was too dark to see colour well and he wasn’t going to activate his Sharingan. Nothing that reminded him of his actions.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

He couldn’t find anything else to say, but she didn’t ask him to explain himself this time. She pulled him against her chest; he smelt her natural scent and the hint of moisturiser she put on every night. He murmured sorry a few more times against her collarbone. She shushed him, pulled him closer.

The next morning he lay in bed while she got ready for work, still as guilt washed across him. He’d been cruel to her when he was under the fog of revenge, yes, but what about now? He’d made Sakura put up with him for months; given her control over him that she might not have even wanted. Had he given her a choice? He’d come to her apartment and asked her to help him. A medic nin would never refuse to help someone.

He’d taken advantage of her.

He dressed quickly, grabbed his scrolls and satchel, and propped open the window.

“Where are you going?”

He turned on the windowsill.

“I’m sorry, Sakura,” he said, formally. “I won’t impose on you anymore.”

“What? You’re not — wait—”  

Shivering, still affected despite everything, he ducked out the window and sped away from Konoha.

It was only when he was an hour away that he realised he’d left his cloak by the door.

***

He’d asked to feel again, and now he did, good old proper Uchiha emotions. How could he have ever wanted this? Once again, he hadn’t been careful with what he wished for, and had been given it.

He wandered throughout the countries surrounding the Land of Fire, doggedly trying to forget everything that had happened in the last few months while simultaneously ignoring the new feelings that were assaulting him at every corner. He still wanted her, but his guilt made it easy not to go back to Konoha. He focused on his work. He tried to use his new feelings to try and understand the world. He tried to help people who needed him.

He was wandering through a village on his way to investigate a possible location of a hideout that might have been connected to the Otsutsuki when he was stopped by a young girl asking for his help. There was a strange demon in the woods nearby town, half wolf, half man, with the strength of fifty men. The villagers were afraid that the demon would come for them soon. Could he help them?

He was grateful for the distraction. He followed the girl out to the woods, and she pointed in the distance, where a dark form lurked in the shadows.

“Good luck,” the girl whispered dramatically, and turned and ran back to the village.

He approached the figure.

The cloak looked…familiar.

“Woof,” said a male voice, and Pakkun jumped from the head of the cloak and sat next to the figure, wagging his tail, very satisfied with himself. He winked at Sasuke, then dispelled in a puff of smoke.

As the smoke wafted away, the figure in the cloak pulled their hood back. Of course, it was her.

“You left your coat,” she said, so dryly that he couldn’t help the huff of amusement over the trepidation that she had found him. “And you’re an idiot.”

She pulled the cloak off and tossed it to him. He fixed it around himself, and when he looked up she was there, flush against him, hands wrapping around his waist, pulling him in close, catching his lips with hers, sharing her warmth.

He’d missed this. He’d missed this so much.

When she broke away he inhaled at the loss, then leaned back down to find her. She made a sound of surprised pleasure, and they were kissing again, and it felt new somehow, until Sasuke realised that this was the first time he had initiated something. His first deliberate kiss.

“I talked to Naruto,” she said eventually, pulling back enough to look up at him, arms still wrapped around his waist. “And when I was explaining what had happened — not in too much detail; don’t look so horrified — I realised what you were thinking. You don’t think I love you. But of course I do.”

What?

“You love me?” he asked weakly.

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t not. I’ve loved you since I was five, and by this stage, my love feels like a, a body part. I can’t stop loving you in the same way I can’t chop off my hand.” Under her breath, “Though sometimes I’ve thought it might be worth it.”

Well, now he felt mildly insulted alongside his astonishment.

“But I also love my work,” Sakura continued, “I need to help people here. And I told you that. I directly told you why I couldn’t travel with you. It didn’t change how I felt. So, when I could see you needed me, I wanted to help you. You weren’t imposing on me. Believe me.”

“But I wanted you to do things that, that you might not have wanted…”

He stopped talking when she started to giggle.

“You think I didn’t want that?” Sakura asked him. She edged a hand under his cloak and under his shirt; found a patch of skin. Twitched her lip upward at his body stilling. “Sasuke, I’ve always loved you, but for the past few months I was able to have fun with you. Fun that also happened to be the hottest thing that ever happened to me, Ino included.” She shook her head, still smiling at him. “You brought out the part of me I feel guilty and ashamed about, and you wanted it. I even started to like that side of myself because you liked it so much. It was incredible. I thought sometimes I was taking advantage of you from how much I wanted this.”

“Tch.” He tried to frown at her, but now it seemed all he could do was smile. “Ridiculous.”

“Exactly how I felt about you leaving without warning.” She took a breath. Steeled herself for something. “But I’m here now. And I’m not sure whether things are different for you, but if they are, I would be free. To travel with you.”

A pause.

“Your work,” he said to her, confused. “The mental health ward.”

“It’s up and running,” she said. “I’ve spent the last six months opening the department, and now it’s been open for three weeks and everyone seems settled in their roles. I’m not a psychologist; I’m a medic. I was just getting it going.”

“But — at the hospital..?”

“I took leave,” she told him. “For the next three months. Honestly, I could use a holiday. I’ll need to go back after then. But for now, I have time. We can travel for the next few months. If you want that.” She shrugged. “If not, you have your cloak. We can lay it on the grass. I’ve never had you in a forest. Then I can go back to Konoha, and you can visit me, like before.”

There was a hint of uncertainty in her voice belying her practical tone. Sakura really was incredible. She contained both the strength that he had discovered over these months and the vulnerability that he knew from before.

He wanted both sides, he realised with surprise. He wanted all of her. But…

“I’m a little emotional at the moment,” he told her reluctantly. “It might not be as, as fun.” Fun plus him: a strange concept, he would admit. “You helped me to feel again, but now there’s, too much…”

“I like you that way,” Sakura said. “I like making you emotional, Sasuke. I’d happily keep making you emotional out in the world.” Her smile mixed care with dangerous promise. It was captivating.

He took a mental step back. Considered what he wanted. What he needed. What he was still trying to learn.

He still didn’t understand himself, or the world, but perhaps he never would. Perhaps no one really did. Perhaps life was too short to wait for the world to start making sense. Perhaps it was okay to feel too much when what he felt was neither hatred nor revenge.

“Can I have both?” he asked her eventually. “You travelling with me, and you having me here in the forest?”

She laughed loudly, said, “Greedy,” and pressed him down into the grass and fallen leaves.

[ragingbookdragon]

Of Nights So Hollow, Of Legends So Great

Night Culture AU!Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 1.8K Warnings: Angst, Uh..Scary? I guess?

Author's Note: This is based on the wonderful @bunnvoid Night Culture AU and I felt compelled to write this at midnight because I couldn't stop thinking about it. Bunn, I hope I did your ideas justice! Honestly, I keep going back and forth between the drawings to make sure! I had fun writing it! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

It was said that at the heart of every legend there was a grain of truth. Legends are just pieces of history fabricated beyond wildest belief, built upon by centuries of retelling, each story sewing a new thread into the tapestry from whence it came. But that’s all that legends are. Threads twined together, woven greater and farther than the original fable.

***

The old castle was a legend. Perhaps not the castle itself, but what supposedly resided inside. Supernatural creatures that skirted down cobblestone alleys and between taverns, seeking out fresh blood in the night. That was one form of the legend, if you believed it. The other form was that of creatures who skirted down cobblestone alleys and between taverns, seeking out evil and destroying it where it plagued innocence.

The chateau lied in the midst of the Devilwood Wilds, just outside the City of Old Gotham. Even during the days when the sun would peek through the gray clouds, it appeared gloomy, blackened stone walls, charred shingles and shutters. The giant Devilwood and Shadow trees prevented sight of the doors of the castle; only the top could be seen, to get the real view, one would’ve had to go into the forest. There was another legend: the horrors of the Wilds.

Whispers on the school-grounds told of a creature, big and terrifying that could be summoned with ritual stones and fresh bat blood; those that summon the beast are never seen again. The adults were less convinced of the idea, though they still forbid their children from reaching even the edges of the forested area. Whilst they believed those that went in were never heard from again, it wasn’t from a creature eating them, but a lack of guidance. Starvation. Wild animals. The freezing fog that made your breath turn to frost.

Timothy remembers hearing those whispers when he passed the old schoolhouse. His mother and father didn’t let him interact with the common children, instead his lessons were taught by private tutors from the wealthiest lands, paid for with the Drake treasure of gold and gemstones.

What more so Timothy remembered was the inhuman being that appeared in his father’s manor, striking down his mother with a slash of black magic, his father following. He remembers the way his father’s eyes rolled back in his skull, fear spreading through his body as he hid in the corner of the room, whimpering and crying. And he most certainly remembered the cold hand of the demon sliding between his shoulder blades before it dug into his skin, piercing his flesh, laughing as he cried out in pain as pricks spread out along his back and down his arms.

Warmth bled down his back as black feathers pushed from his skin and Timothy panted as his fingernails grew in length, sharpening as they darkened. He remembered scrambling to his feet, darting away from the creature as he ran. Forgetting the corpses of his family and staff around him, throwing the door open, bursting into the night, and sprinting down the street, leaving a trail of bloody, black feathers in the direction of the Devilwood Wilds.

***

The first night was the least remembered but the darkest. Violent and corrupting nightmares slithering inside his head as he tossed and turned along the frigid ground in a feverish deathlike state, the wings at his back only growing in size.

The second night was less nightmare-ridden, but much more painful. Timothy had pierced a wing on a stray Devilwood tree, the syrup like poison only infecting the wound. He was hungry and cold. Exhausted and scared. He tried to remember all the books he read as a child of the knights facing the elements for a week in order to ascend knighthood; he couldn’t seem to recall a thing.

The third night seemed to be his last. He lay huddled up against a raised Shadow tree root, the ebony wood providing stability for his wounded wing. Timothy sniffled, dragging his knees to his chest as he lay his chin on his arms, ignoring the grumbling of his stomach as it ate itself in hunger.

A tree branch creaked above him, and he craned his neck up, eyes widening when he saw the glowing eyes of the masked creature. The legends were right. The creature’s head twisted sideways, reminding Timothy of an owl, then the other way, like it was observing him. It made a noise and he scrambled to the floor of the forest, curling his injured wing above his head and over his body to protect himself.

THUNK!

Timothy whimpered, ready to be torn to shreds, but when no vicious claws or snapping teeth came at him, he carefully peered between his open wing. There lie a satchel, as long as his forearm and as wide as his middle was. He looked up towards the tree branch to where the creature had sat, but there was nothing there anymore; he glanced around, it wasn’t in sight.

He blinked and shuffled towards the satchel, untying the drawstrings with fumbling clawed hands. Inside lay a pair of thick wool socks, a small blanket, and another small bag. Timothy pulled it from the satchel and opened it; half a loaf of bread and a chunk of meat the size of his hand were stowed inside.

Timothy forewent the etiquette he was taught as a child, giving into his ravenous desire as he devoured the meat. It was tender and juicy, the glaze a mixture of honey and cinnamon.

A memory flowed to his mind, the dinner after the rising of the first star, his family and staff all surrounding the dining table, a divine feast laid before them. The smiling faces of his mother and father stilled his hunger and he placed the food back in the satchel, uncurling the wool blanket. Timothy lay underneath the raised Shadow tree roots, one wing curled around him, and he fell into a restless sleep with tears frozen on his cheeks.

***

When he awoke the next morning, his wing was no longer torn and infected. A new feather had appeared where the wound had been. Timothy wanted to learn to fly. He’d owned a bird once. A Ruby Firebird, with long, crimson-colored feathers and big ruby eyes. It had been his only real friend and he’d watched it a lot. It couldn’t be that hard.

He stretched his wings out, unable to fight the urge to touch them with a single black claw. It tingled. Timothy blinked and beat them, unsure. He beat them again, this time a little harder, keeping at it until with each beat he was able to blow the long grass flat against the ground. A giddy smile came across his lips when the tips of his toes grazed the ground.

What he had not counted on was how tired he was going to get after only a few brief minutes of trying. His wings felt sore. Timothy would try again tomorrow to rise above the tall grass.

***

The creature would appear at odd times during the night and Timothy had stopped feeling the cold fear in his gut when it did. It never came near him; it just watched with the cocked head, back and forth, then would drop the satchel again and disappear. Sometimes there were scribbles inside. He didn’t know what they meant; but he knew the language. Thaatisgani. An old language his writing teacher had shown him one day. A language long died out amongst the common and even the elite folk.

Timothy wanted to know what it meant. He wanted to know what the creature was. His determination drew him to the front of the castle during the night of the harshest season storm. Lighting crackled across the sky, the thunder rolled along the clouds and the rain came down in torrents. He was freezing and soaked to the bone and the weight of his wings had him crawling up the steps, collapsing at the door.

He weakly raised a clawed hand, one nail scratching the black glazed door and he descended into darkness.

***

His mother liked to wear scented oils. They smelled of Queen’s Briar and Golden Belladonna. Before he was older, she used to let Timothy sit beside her when she would apply them to her wrist and ears. She would smile at him and tell him stories of far away lands.

Warmth spread across his eyes, and he rolled over in what he thought was his dream, only to roll onto the ground, landing awkwardly on his wings. Timothy whined and unfolded himself off the ground, rubbing his eyes, only to see the creature a hair’s breadth away from his face.

Timothy choked on his fear and scrambled away, only for the creature to grab his shoulder.

“Stay.”

He halted, looking back at it. “You speak the common tongue?”

The creature stared at him. “You are Timothy Drake. Son of Earl Drake.”

“I am,” Timothy responded, then looked at his hands. “But my family is…is dead.”

“Killed by a slithering demon from the Farstead realm.”

Tears prickled Timothy’s vision. “It killed my parents and cursed me.” He looked at the creature. “I’m a monster.”

“You’re cursed to believe what you think you are.” The creature waved a glowing hand and Timothy blinked in shock as the wings disappeared and his hands turned to normal. “It’s merely an illusion. You’ve only been tainted with cursed magic.”

It was much too complicated for Timothy to pull apart now. “Can I be healed?”

The creature blinked its glowing obs. “Cursed magic cannot be healed…but it can be trained.” They leaned forward, getting in his face. “I can teach you to control and transform.”

“You’re not going to eat me?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“…Yes.”

“You hesitated just a bit right there.”

A bottle rolled out from the corner of the room and the creature sighed, turning its head to it. “Richard. Jason. Come here.”

Two young boys, not that much older than Timothy appeared from behind a corner, guilty looks on their faces as though they’d been caught eavesdropping.

The creature nodded to Timothy. “Take him upstairs. He is dirty and tired.”

The tallest one, Jason, crossed his arms over his chest. “Just like that, Bruce? You’re going to take the witch boy in?”

“Pot-kettle,” Richard coughed, smiling when Jason elbowed him.

The creature, now known as Bruce, sighed. “Take the boy. He is tired.”

Jason and Richard obeyed, each hauling Timothy up under the armpits, leading him to a dimly lit staircase.

“Are you two going to eat me?”

“Yes,” Jason replied without hesitation.

“Jason!” Richard barked. “Stop.” He looked down at Timothy. “We’re not going to eat you Timothy…we’re going to help you. And that includes having a warm bed to sleep in and hot food to eat.”

Tears once again gathered in Timothy’s eyes, and he lowered his head as he sniffled. For once since that night, he felt safe.

These were the legends that prowled the city streets. They were supposed to be vicious and dark, evil and bloodthirsty, not ribbing and warm.

But then again, what are legends, but threads twined together, woven greater and farther than the original fable?

[mistressemmedi]

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

Greetings from Miley Cyrus - phenomenal numbers.

The streams of Zitti e Buoni are growing by the second, and ahead of Muse, on the top of the English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. We almost tripled followers after Rotterdam (from 1.4 to 3.3 million, ed). Contagious and universal madness: T-shirts and merchandise sold out in 10 minutes. Like records, tickets for a tour that adds dates and expands on maps. They are even looking for us in festivals where the Rolling Stones have played. - Thomas

After the whole cocaine scandal that was started against us from France, which was later denied by my drug test, in Spain there people have been making murals with my face saying "No drugs". Some tweets made us laugh: «Congratulations, Italy! I have never been so sure that four people have fucked each other ". Miley Cyrus started following us. "You are great". “You are more” . - Damiano

From rags to riches - what a story

It was only 2016, and we were playing in restaurants, on the streets, in via del Corso (famous street in Rome). Damiano without a microphone, Thomas's guitar with broken strings, Ethan drummed on a cajón. At the occupations of the high schools in Rome (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first gigs and half an hour of fame, between those who criticized us and those who said "these guys are so cool". One of the rare times in which they offered to pay us to play - 50 euros each - we offered that money to those after us, in exchange for the chance to play during their time slow, as we knew there would have been a bigger crowd. We already understood then how it worked. That visibility was worth more than the money. We still think so ». - Victoria

The intimacy of rock - Choice of a genre

Music allows is this miracle which allows one to talk about very personal and private topics, even difficult and delicate ones. They are and remain deeply yours, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage which is like a delivery, they also find their place in you, their elaboration. They are overcome, they are accepted. One moment it feels aggressive, one moment later a (soft) ballad. It's very cathartic. - Damiano

Against panic - The stage as therapy

I have suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it is a problem that I have worked on thanks to a course of psychotherapy, to my friends and family. Playing has helped me not to let myself be paralyzed by my fears, not to be limited in my private and professional life. I have learned to accept, to live with this side of me. I don't hide it. I no longer feel ashamed. - Victoria

This belief that only crazy people go to the psychologist is widespread ignorance. Nobody is born learned. And it is often difficult to understand why we are here, let alone the derivation and direction of our desires. It is a long and legitimate journey towards one's clarity. - Damiano

Essere fuori di testa – Ma diversi da loro (Be out of your mind - But different from them)

Already feeling a strong passion for something that is not a 'regular' profession but an artistic language, it puts you on a level where you're an anomaly, and while you're neither superior nor inferior to others, it places you in the condition of what breaks the mold but you're also being at a loss, leaving it to you to be bold and to take risks, hoping that they will pay off and land you somewhere. "What good is it if you don't stand out on your own?". You want to give it an aesthetic to your artistic dream, but to others it boils down to " You dress differently! You must be gay! ”, I'm 22 now and it makes me laugh, but at 17 it had an effect on me too. - Damiano

The beauty of being unique - Of believing in that and defending it

After all, we are all different not because we want to be alternative but because really no one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty. - Ethan

Fluid sexuality - Pride is freedom

We appreciate heels on men, we kiss each other, we have an open, extended mind, and we are proud of it. The horizons become vast, beyond the oppression of conservative families. With information on the web, knowledge is enriched and with it the possibility that minorities will be fewer and fewer, because majorities will be fewer and fewer. This will lower the volume to insults and bullying. If social networks can reach a village of 50 souls to reveal to someone, who is afraid of the darkness, that someone has felt that same fear.. There is no longer the need to give it a name, to define that "something" to fear, to brand it with labels that only limit you. Definitions have always had this effect on me. Gender should not even be considered in a person's judgment. Let alone orientation ". - Victoria

Sexism - A culture to be dismantled

Emma (Italian singer) dropped the bomb:" When I went to Eurovision, they insulted me over a pair of shorts. Damiano - half naked and in heels - was never criticized ". The judgment against women is constant, ferocious, and demeaning (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool but Vic a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader she is domineering and pain in the ass, who is successful because only because of her looks [and not the hard work she puts in]). As a male I am privileged, the harassment I suffer is not comparable to that experienced by a woman, the comments on my aesthetics are focused only on my aesthetics and do not insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thinking in a systemic way. But I did find myself in a situation, out of nowhere, with someone who, pulling close to her for a selfie, started licking my face ... "What do you want, did you ask me?" Consent exists, and it is a must ». - Damiano

To grow as a person - The only rule to follow

For me, to conform is the total opposite of educating oneself, and the asphyxiation of one's expression (of freedom). Fortunately, I did not suffer heavy bullying, to the point where I felt I needed to change to adapt to how others saw me. But the matrix of who I am and the aggression that marks me is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and loves dolls, then allow me the freedom to do so. I used to be a kid who wanted long hair and played with Barbies. My friends, as a teenager, looked my long hair and teased me: "You have to find yourself a girl with a short hair to make up for it". My grandparents took the dolls away from me and said: “Stop it, they're not for you” ». - Ethan

“I was six and I already could not tolerate the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things typically defined as feminine as a child, and they made fun of me for skating, for playing soccer, for not wearing skirts, for giving myself the chance to be as I wanted to be. I suffered a little, as I was bullied, but I had courage to stay true to myself, and today thanks to that courage I know that I could have been much more hurt, or I would have risked leaving the most important decision to others: the one about being just me". - Victoria

Love - music and girlfriends

I've been married to music for the past 20 years. I cannot wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary. - Ethan

Everyone goes through their own experiences, sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad, but it's never other people's business." - Thomas

When, for the first time, I developed feelings and attraction for a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage to go beyond the limitations I had imposed on myself. For society, being heterosexual is the norm and therefore often one automatically pegs himself in that way, giving up the freedom to experience many different shades and facets of love. Once I got over the initial insecurity of having to question one's own certainties, I lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone. - Victoria

I had paparazzi under my house morning and night. So, after four years of relationship, I finally revealed her name. I still have the paparazzi under my house morning and night, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore. - Damiano

The value of the group - Protecting each other

But the real relationship, the real family, is between us. Our band. We believed in it from the first day, even before calling ourselves Måneskin (moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon, on the poster for our first concert. We share everything, even the pain of the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because he was a victim of racism. Being a group is what we should all do together: stay united and not retreat in the slightest in the face of abuses generated by a distorted vision of someone "being different|. - Thomas

Non ho l’età – like Gigliola (It references Gigliola Cinquetti who won both Sanremo and Eurovision with her song "Non ho l’età" which translates to Not old enough)

Before us, the only one to win Sanremo and Eurovision together was Gigliola Cinquetti (in 1964). Is there is something for which I feel I am not yet old enough for? No, honestly no. Maybe for kids. I'll be honest, I'm not enough to be a dad. - Damiano

Reached the sky - What fears still remain

We are more than in the dream, we have conquered the dream. To fly high this high, there is the risk is to fall and get hurt, but we will try not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - somewhat presumptuously - reassures us rather than frighten us ". - Damiano

(ORIGINAL INTERVIEW IN ITALIAN)

[Please note that I have changed some words or structure sentence, trying to make it so that the interview made more sense lol - I skipped the first two paragraphs, which was basically the interviewer gushing over how pretty the band is lmao (relatable).

Any mistakes in the translation are sorely mine, nothing was proofread, so apologies in advance]

[unbreathable]

ride home  / S. Rogers

Summary : As a girl you were always told to never accept a ride from unknown men. You knew what could happen, you knew the dangers and heck, you`ve seen how it ruined some girls. But hey, he`s your teacher, nothing could happen. Right?

Pairing : Dark(soft)!teacher Steve Rogers x female Reader

Before you read, please understand that this is intended to be a dark fic. There will be noncon elements, rape, violence, manipulation and so much more. If you find any of these disturbing, please click away. 18+ only.

Warnings for this one shot : manipulation, noncon elements, rape, use of drugs, lost of virginity. This is some kind of au and Steve might be out of character a little.

Word count : 3.319

Credit : for the gif I used, the credit goes to its rightful creator.

Note : Don’t expect this to be any good. I came up with this over the course of a few hours and I’m still learning how to write one shots, as I find it much easier to write a series. Also I still suck at writing “smut”. I’m trying to perfect it, tho. Promise. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this one shot till my mind would be satisfied with the way the next chapter of “The Magpie” turned out and would let me post it. :)) Also, please excuse any mistakes I made. Have a great day you guys!

                   Also, to all the writers from this platform : thank you !

Girl found wondering around without any memory of the last few days, claims she had been abducted and raped...

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at the case which has been all over the news for the past week. It was quite predictable, really. Young girl, too drunk for her own good woke up by herself in the middle of nowhere. You sighed. In a city as big as New York, cases like this happened almost every other day, but there was always something left behind. Fight marks, blood, hair. Anything that could help the police find the person who did it. This time though, there was nothing.

The poor girl. You couldn`t help but pity her. She must be terrified. All alone against a world that knows nothing better than to judge. You pinched your nose in exasperation.

Cases like this, it`s what made you choose to study law. You wanted to be able to help other women. To offer them a chance at justice. No one deserved to be told that it was their own fault for wondering alone at night or for wearing something more showing. No girl should feel like the law protects only the male population...

“ And what`s your opinion on this matter, miss I`m too busy scrolling on my phone to pay attention to class?”

You cursed in your head, as you put your phone away and lifted your eyes to meet your teacher.

Steve Rogers. America`s hero, savior of the world and an actual pain in your ass, was looking at you expectantly. You held his gaze as you forced your lips to form some kind of smile. Something about him always put you on edge and the way his eyes darkened as he stared at you, didn`t exactly help ease the feeling.

“I`m sorry, I was distracted.” you murmured, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he caught you unprepared. ”If you would be so kind...”

You looked at him as you raised one eyebrow. It was always like this. No matter what you did he`d always find something to pick at you. At first you took it as a form of banter between a teacher and his students, but with time it became clearly that he had a problem with you. Your grades didn`t reflect the hard work you always put in. Your extra work wouldn`t be considered. Every time you would as much as look at your watch he`d find something to jab at you. He would also have something to say about every paper you handed him. It was a miracle you even made the grade for his class.

You cringed as you remembered the comments he would make about your life outside his class. You seemed to bump into him on a daily. There was also something, in the way he watched your every move, that it made the hair at the back of your neck stay high on alert. You really couldn`t understand what you`ve done that America`s sweetheart despised you that much.

”The women rights...” he smirked down at you.

“Oh, yes. I strongly believe that women should have got their rights the same time men did.” you smiled when you realized that he wanted to add something else. “I mean we know that every society of this world was built around androcentrism, but if we`re real the women were the ones that kept everything from falling apart.” you drew in a short breath. “Oh, and I believe that 1920 was a bit late for our women to get their rights, since women all around the world fought for it since the 18th century.”

You smirked, as for once in your life the bell rang exactly when you needed it. Forcing a smile his way, you stood up gathering your notebooks. You were quite proud of yourself, not because your answer was the desired one, but because you got on professor Rogers nerves. While he didn`t seem to have a problem with women and feminists in general, he sure had a problem with the way you choose to speak on the matter. From the corner of your eye you saw his jaw twitch.

At first you were afraid to even say your opinion lest you would upset him, but now you enjoyed to see that vein on his forehead nearly pop. You held back a giggle. Oh well, at least you won`t have to see him for the next few weeks.

“Professor!” you rolled your eyes when you herd your bestfriend use her sweet voice. “I was wondering if you`d like to come to our party tonight.”

You stood straight, narrowing your eyes at the one that has been your friend since the first day you came to the city. What the hell was happening. You knew she had a crush on him, everyone did, but she wasn`t the one to just go and ask someone out, especially not him. You watched her in confusion as professor Rogers made his way to the front of the class.

“You know, with everything happening right now, the uni council would let us hold the party only if there was someone that could take care of us.”

“Oh!” you supposed that made sense, but even so why did it have to be him.

“Of course professor Barnes already said that he`ll be there, but we`d be thankful if you came too. Please!” your friend bated her eyelashes at him as you rolled your eyes.

Professor Rogers had a pleased smile as he moved his eyes from her to you. You held his gaze, even going as far as raising one eyebrow at him. He blinked, before turning his head towards the rest of the class.

“Since you asked so nicely.” he said after a short moment dismissively. ”`I`ll be there.”

There was something sinister in his eyes. Something that you failed to see as you made your way out of the lecture class.

“I can`t believe you invited him!” you playfully jabbed your friend in the shoulder as she walked next to you.

“Oh, come on! It’s just tonight, and I bet he won’t be able to stay up that late since he’s like... the same age as history?” she bit back a laugh, as she took your hand. “It will be fun, you`ll see.”

You hoped she was right since you were never a big fan of parties of any kind.

                                       _ _ _

This wasn`t fun. Not at all.

You knew you should have stayed home, yet you still wanted to enjoy the last night with your class mates before break. But this wasn`t it. The music was too loud and you couldn`t even hear what some people were saying. Also you`ve never really been a techno fan. The food was crap and you were sure everyone came just because there were free drinks.

It was well past midnight and you have been there since the beginning, but you were already dreading it. You smiled as your only joy came from watching drunk freshmen being rejected by some of your friends. The girls were ruthless and that made you proud.

“Hey girl!” your bestfriend came by your side, holding two glasses in her hands as her body danced along the rhythm of the music. “Look at was professor Rogers sent us.”

Her words were slurred and you could see that she drank already too much. That`s why at first you thought you didn`t hear her right. While it wasn`t unusual for men to send women drinks, getting a drink from your teacher was something you never thought could happen. It was wrong in a way.

“What?” your eyes widened as soon as the word left your mouth.

You eyed the glass she handed you. It seemed to be one of your favorites, and after the sour taste the beer left in your mouth, that would have been like a desert. Still something made you suspicious.

“Come on, take it!”  your friend pressed as she smiled broadly. “He must have realized that he’s been an ass all year and wants to make amends.”

She was giggling as her glossy eyes drifted around the room. She didn`t seem to be able to focus on anything, but somehow her shaky hands found yours and brought the glass you were holding closer to your mouth. You weren`t exactly sure what came over you, but you opened your mouth and let the liquid go down your throat. Involuntarily, your eyes wondered around till you saw the back of your least favorite teacher. He didn`t even seem to care about anything around him as he was engaged into a discussion with professor Barnes. That alone made you feel safe, even though the drink left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You were too quick to judge, you resonated. This was probably his way of saying: “Sorry I tormented you that much.” You suddenly giggled. It was shortly followed by your friend`s laughter. She threw the glass to the side and took your hand leading you to the dancefloor.

You weren`t that much of a dancer. You knew just some basics moves and that was it, but now you didn`t seem to care. You let your body move, and only chuckled when your legs started to feel like jelly. It was a strange feeling. You suddenly felt like were floating.

You furrowed your brows as you started to feel that your body didn`t exactly respond to your impulses. Everything around you happened in slow motion.

You cursed. Just how much did you drink? Moving one hand to your head, you tried to get your senses back, but you found it too hard to do. Your head buzzed. For a second you looked around trying to spot your friend among the sweaty bodies on the dancefloor, but it was like you couldn`t recognize anybody.

Fuck this. You had enough of this party already, and the way you felt made you decide that it was time to go home. You moved between the sea of bodies as fast as you could. Your coat and purse were the only thing you spent more than five minutes looking for, but as you found them you practically run out of there.

The bus stop wasn`t that far, but just the thought that you`ll have to go home by bus, made you want to throw up. You didn`t feel well and there was  dizziness that started to overcome you. As you watched the empty street, you cursed again. Of course you`ll have to wait till the next bus came. Damn it! You should really get your license.

The sound of a engine from behind you, made you turn your head. Your eyes narrowed as you watched the Range Rover slow down and actually stop right next to you. You squinted your eyes, trying to see through the tinted glass, but as a wave of nausea hit you, you moved your head to the side. You didn`t exactly pay attention when one of the windows went down. You didn`t really care. You felt sick, and all you wanted, was to get home.

“ I saw you left the party early.” the deep voice said. “Are you all right kitten?”

You hissed when you heard the voice of the last person you wanted to see right now. What was he even doing here? Your heart skipped a beat as another wave hit. You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. Just ignore him and he`ll go away. You didn`t exactly knew why you choose to act like that but there was something in your head that told you it was for the best.

“Come on girl, I have to make sure everyone is safe and sound.” you heard his voice. “If you don`t feel fine, I can take you home.”

The idea of getting home sooner and in a nice car was looking really good right now. But still, you didn`t feel like it was the best for you. You choose to keep quiet for reasons not even you knew. You glossy eyes scanned the schedule of the bus that was right in front of you. Thirty minutes and you`ll go home.

You heard professor Rogers sigh.

“And here I thought you never shut your mouth.” there was a deep chuckle, fallowed by the sound of the engine coming to life. “Look kitten I can either get you home or I`ll go my merry way and let you here all alone... well not quite. But I`m not sure you`d want that kind of company.”

Confusion filled your mind. The sudden move you made to look at him, made you dizzy. You tried to focus your eyes, in time to see him pointing to somewhere behind you. You slowly turned.

A group of guys were eyeing you like a wolf would his prey. Your mouth fell open as they did obscene gestures at you. Your whole body freeze as fear took over you. You knew what could happen. Suddenly you were more sober that ever and as you heard the car start moving, you nearly threw yourself in front of it. On shaky legs you moved towards the door.

“Wait” you find it hard to speak. “Professor, I`m sorry I... please!”

You looked at him with pleading eyes, and didn`t even register the way he smirked as you got into the car. Everything was a haze. You only felt like you could breath when the car started to gain speed. You didn`t even remembered to give him your address or anything, but as the car rolled down various streets you were only thankful you were far away from them.

“It such a crazy world out there” professor Rogers voice made you move your head towards him, but as the fear was gone, you started to feel the dizziness again.

With unfocused eyes you watched him. America`s hero was giving you a ride home for free and you were acting like he was your biggest enemy. What was wrong with you?

“I have to say I`m impressed.” he suddenly said as the car started to slow down. “That was one of the strongest drugs that you drank, and you still have some of your conscious left. The other ones were down after a few minutes.”

You looked at him and simply blinked. You wondered if your mind was playing games with you. Surely, he hadn`t said what you think you heard. You must have imagined everything.

“E... excuse me?” you asked dully.

You drew in a shaky breath as your trembling hand went to the door. He chuckled darkly at your attempts to open it. You wanted to scream but as your movement became slower and slower you found that fear wasn`t enough to fuel your limp body.

The car came to a sudden stop. You closed your eyes as you felt hands pulling you back.

“Now, now honey.” you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. “Don`t waste your energy, you`ll need it.”

You turned your head and watched him through your eyelashes. Something in your head was screaming at you to fight, to run, to get away. You wanted to punch, scratch, hurt him in any way. But your body didn`t listen.

It happened too fast. In a matter of second your dress was ripped to shreds. And your found yourself pressed to the door. He was over you in an instant. Turning your head to the side so that he could stare into your eyes. He had a hungry look on his face. You`ve seen it many times but it never terrified you as much as now.

“Just as pretty as I imagined.” he said in a husky voice.

You squeezed your legs as you felt his hand moving around along your body. He tugged at your bra till the clasps snapped. Your nipples stood erect, you didn`t know if it was from the cold of the car or the heat that was inside you. One of his hands came forward at pinched at your nipples. You made to move, but as sensing your intention he tugged your head back by your hair.

“Don`t you even dare!” he growled as his thumb played with one of your nipples. “I waited a long time for this”.

He leaned forward kissing down your stretched neck. His mouth was hot against your skin. You gasped when you felt his tongue leaving wet traces along your collarbone. He tugged at your hair one more time before his hand went down.

“Always dressing like this world is your own runaway, always thinking that you know it all.” he let out a moan as he squeezed your ass. “Do you know what a face as pretty as yours and an attitude like that do to a man?”

You whimpered. You never meant to catch his attention in that way, you just wanted to feel good about yourself. You wanted to tell him that. To tell him that you were sorry, but your brain didn`t work anymore. There was no reaction even as he spanked you. You felt like you could pass out every second.

“Don`t even think about it!”

You closed your eyes when your panties were soon the same as your other clothes. Slick was going down your legs. Despite everything, you were aroused.

“So fucking wet already. Good girl!” he praised.

You felt his hand descend down to your very core, proding around. You bit your lips as tears filled your eyes.

“How many have been here before?” he gave a low chuckle the same time his fingers pinched your button.

“One?” he mocked as one of his long fingers entered you.

You held back a gasp. Non, no, no. This wasn`t happening. Nobody touched you like that before. Nobody even came close to it. That`s not how you wanted it not how you dreamt it would happen. You wanted dinner, roses, a man you loved... not him.

“Two?” he continued as another finger stretched you.

You felt your walls clench around his fingers, as he moved them in and out ou you, everything while his thumb circled your most sensitive part.

“Fuck... you`re tight!” his breath was ragged, it was like he couldn`t get enough.

There was a sudden pause. In a quick move you found yourself pressed to the door of the car, as he angled your body to have better access to your burning core. He drew in a breath.

“A virgin.” he moaned.

You closed your eyes as you herd him playing at his clothes. The sudden hardness you felt proding around your core, made you shiver. You didn`t dare to look back and see it. You were scared. It seemed too big. You were afraid it would split you in a half.

You screamed when he entered you. The pain blurred your vision. Your whole body ached and tears fell down your cheeks. No, no, no. You bit back a moan of pain when he started to move, not caring about you at all. His moves were rough, punishing.

“Shhh doll, I`ll take care of you.” he rasped. “You must have waited so long for this... saving yourself for me.”

Your body moved in rhythm with his. His cock dragged along your walls as every move sent a wave of pain through you. Soon though, you found the pain disappeared. A strange feeling took over you. It was almost pleasurable. You guessed you would have enjoyed it under any other circumstances. But now? Now you were just tired.

As you passed out, you failed to notice the feeling of something warm flowing through you.

                                          _ _ _

Steve smiled down at your sleeping form. So pretty, even after being used like that. You had a glow. Too bad you might not remember anything that happened. He chuckled. It`s a  good thing he planned to keep you. He`ll make sure you`ll never forget him.

You were his girl after all. The only reason he took that shitty job as a teacher.

[goldenroutledge]

Could you do one with Rafe? He catchs the female reader fooling around with One of the pogues. Gets so angry because he has a thing for the reader so he reveals the truth to her family to hurt her back. They start fighting and he kind of admits he liked her all along accidentally. This request sucks but I just need a Rafe imagine so you could change it as the way you want. Thank you. ^-^

after the storm

pairing: rafe cameron x kook!reader

wc: 3.4k

warning(s): angst, fluff, swearing

a/n: i hope i did this justice babe, thank you for requesting!! p.s i loved ur request so much. also i was inspired by ‘after the storm’ by kali uchis, its such a beautiful song

rafe masterlist

© goldenroutledge , do not copy, steal, or translate my work

Being the oldest daughter of one of the most successful families in the OBX drew a lot of eyes towards you. Alongside the Cameron's, your families did business together which led you all to be very close. They were like a second family to you, and the feeling was mutual. Your families spent holidays, boat days, and countless events together.

For years you and Sarah had been inseparable, spending every chance you got to hang out. You even had a key to their house, letting yourself in whenever you needed to. Your parents traveled often for sometimes weeks on end, so Ward and Rose would open up their home to you and your little sister during storms or just to do fun stuff together so you wouldn’t be lonely.

Outside of being friends with Sarah and Rafe though, you enjoyed being around other people. You hung out with a vast range of friend groups around the island, never wanting to be bored in one place for too long. A few of those groups, however, others weren’t so fond of. Your parents, for one. They were so insistent on putting out a perfect front for business that they didn’t believe you should be hanging around ‘troubled crowds’.

The pogues being the troubled crowd they were referring to. Over time you grew a liking to them. Their carefree spirits uplifted you and made you feel alive, like for once in your life you weren’t just existing. Being with the pogues made you forget all about your reality. In those moments you were able to escape the ‘bubble wrap’, as Sarah called it. And without them, you probably would’ve gone postal by now.

The second disapproving individual would be Rafe. Every chance he got he would make a snide comment about you and Sarah hanging out with those ‘filthy pogues’, deliberately getting under your skin. He didn’t care so much as to what Sarah was up to, but why you would be hanging out on the Cut voluntarily left him clueless. The closer you got with the pogues only meant the less he would see of you, which upset him more than he would’ve liked to admit.

You and Rafe had a love-hate relationship. Neither of you could wrap your heads around the idea of having feelings for each other so you both just stayed put, letting out your pent up emotion slowly through actions. Even if those motives were unnoticed by both you and Rafe, they weren’t overlooked by others.

“Hey, Rafe?” Topper nudged his friend’s arm. “Isn’t that Y/n over there with the pogues?” The mention of your name turned his head towards Topper, following his gaze. The sun was setting on the boneyard as his eyes caught you dancing very close to JJ.

A look of disgust covered his face before he responded. “Yeah, her and Sarah are going through some sort of life crisis and have been hanging out with ‘em.”

“Do her parents know?” Topper asked him.

“No..” Rafe started slowly, nodding his head in thought before smirking. “But they’re about to.”Topper chuckled as he witnessed Rafe pull out his phone to snap a quick picture of you and JJ. He looked at the photo before pushing his phone back in his pocket, satisfied with the start to his plan of blackmail.

The urge to give you up to your parents only worsened as he seethed watching the two of you so close together. Your arms around JJ’s neck and his wrapped loosely but dangerously low on your hips. Rafe’s jaw clenched as he watched the interaction, you giggling at things JJ spoke in your ear while mindlessly playing with his hair. He hated the way he wanted to be one you held and laughed with. Tangling your manicured hands in his honey colored hair instead, as he took in your sweet perfume, the both of you dancing without a care in the world.

Topper broke him out of his trance. “Calm down, man, clench that jaw any harder and your teeth will fall out.”

Rafe laughed harshly in fake amusement, mocking Topper. “Shut the hell up, Top.”

“Looks like someone’s jealous, who would’ve thought. Y/n Y/l/n, huh? It’s pretty much destiny, I mean, it’s obvious you like her.” Topper stated.

“The hell I do, it’s just gross and annoying. That’s all.” Rafe defended, staring back to the sight in front of him.

“Yeah, annoyingly gross that a pogue is over there trying to bang your woman.” Topper laughed, amused with himself.

His laughter came to an abrupt stop when Rafe hit him on the back of the head sharply. “You’re an idiot, I have something I have to go do.” Rafe spoke before taking one last look at you and JJ and heading to his truck.

-

The vibration of your phone brought you out of your fun as you read a text from your sister.

‘heads up, you should come home asap. doesn’t look too good for you’

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion before you decided to take her advice and head home for whatever reason. Before leaving you said your goodbyes to the pogues and Sarah, as she insisted on staying the night at the Chateau with John B.

The ride home was spent with your mind racing as to how you were possibly in trouble this time. Those thoughts came to a stop once you saw Rafe’s navy blue truck parked on the long driveway of your home. “Fuck me.” You sighed before walking in your home to face both of your parents and Rafe. “Well, well, well.”

“Took your sister’s advice I see.” Your mom spoke up. “Wise choice, we have some things to discuss.”

“Like what?”

Your father cleared his throat before speaking. “Rafe was kind enough to bring it to our attention that you’ve been slumming it on the Southside lately. You know our rules, Y/n.”

You hummed. “Imagine that. Where’s your proof, Rafey?”

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement before showing the picture from earlier on his phone for you to see. Rafe held back a laugh watching your face drop, heat rising to your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

“We told you to stay off the Cut, Y/n, and it was for a reason. You’re only as good as the company you keep. And if you keep hanging out with trash, you’re gonna get dirty.” You father chided.

Rafe shrugged in agreement, sending you a look of fake sympathy. Of course it was typical for your parents to believe him. They always talked about wanting a son to take reign over the business after they retired, ending up with two daughters instead. Rafe was like the son they never had, and your parents probably adored Rafe more than his own did.

“Maybe you’ll learn your lesson over these next couple weeks alone.” Your mother announced. “Because you can kiss Los Angeles goodbye. We can’t risk your outlandish behavior embarrassing us in front of the Richardson's and the entire state of California.”

Rafe let out a short whistle at her words that made your blood boil. “What the hell? But we go every year, as a family. You’re seriously going to punish me by making me stay here because of one party?”

“That’s just it, Y/n, it wasn’t just one party. Rafe informs us that this has been going on for weeks.”Your father revealed.

You rolled your eyes before starting again. “Whatever. So you’re just gonna leave me here to die alone in the hurricane in a few days then?”

“No, we aren’t that mean. You’ll stay with the Cameron's during the storm like usual when we leave town.” Your mother answered. You rolled your eyes again at the circumstances before glaring at Rafe, to which he subtly winked, then headed to your room for the night.

-

The next few days passed quickly before the rest of your family’s bags were packed for their trip. You loathed in the constant boasting from your younger sibling, as she went on and on about how she was looking forward to the window seat on the plane, and all of the L.A. adventures you all normally had this time of year. And thanks to Rafe, you wouldn’t be indulging in any of it. The only memory you would have of this trip would be seeing the social media posts from your parents and some family friends, the Richardson's, as they had fun without you.

“The pantry and fridge are stocked, so you’ll find something to eat. Remember that the security cameras will be on so don’t even think about sneaking out or having any parties.” Your dad told you as you walked out to the car where the driver was packing up their luggage.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You sent him a tight lipped smile, your arms folded across your chest.

“Cameron's have already agreed that you’ll stay with them when the storm hits. Be on your best behavior. I don’t want to hear anything bad, you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” You saluted unenthusiastically.

Your sister suddenly came up next to you in the happiest of spirits. “Don’t worry sis, I’ll send you a postcard.”

“Oh, goodie. Can’t wait.”

-

The next day, you grumbled as rain was heard tapping lightly on your window. You opened the blinds to see clouds filling the sky, before sighing at the thought of being stuck in a house with Rafe for who knows how long. Picking up your phone from the nightstand you saw a text from Sarah.

‘rise and shine hoe, lmk when you’re awake so i can pick you up before the storm hits’

You texted her back before taking a hot shower and preparing for your stay at the Cameron’s house.

“Sup, bitch.” Sarah yelled through your house a while later.

“Jesus, Sarah. I thought you were gonna wait in the driveway.”

“Nah, I just remembered I have a key so I wanted to see if it still works.” You shook your head and laughed at her before meeting her downstairs. “Ready?”

“Not to see Rafe’s jackass.”

She laughed at your response before speaking again. “You know he’s only jealous, right? I heard all about his meeting with your parents the other day.”

You raised your eyebrows at her in question. “Jealous? Of what? He’s just a big jerk that likes to annoy me.”

“He likes you, Y/n. He’s a simple-minded, male specimen desperately trying to get your attention.” She explained, satisfied with her logic.

You scoffed in response. “That’s ridiculous.”

“See, even you don’t have a proper excuse. Don’t get me wrong, Y/n, I hate that it’s my brother we’re talking about here but the sexual tension between you two is painfully obvious.”

You hated to admit it, but there was some truth to her statement. Rafe was always gorgeous but you started noticing only months ago. Whether it was a new cologne he was wearing or the way his skin tanned delightfully, you noticed and it was embarrassing.

Although you never expressed this newfound desire for Rafe, you felt defeated that he was a weakness of yours that was only growing by the day. Of course with the occasional argument like this one, but even then your heart couldn’t help but speed up around him or send butterflies to dance around in your stomach. And you hated it so much.

Shortly, you and Sarah arrived at Tannyhill. You took in one last breath of the fresh, rain scented air before Rafe would be protecting invading your space. Just as you got settled in the guest bedroom, about to join Sarah for a Euphoria marathon, a double knock was heard at the slightly open door. “Come in!” You called out, figuring it was Wheezie coming to say hi.

To your surprise, the delicious sight of Rafe’s tall frame stood in the doorway. At first you wanted to smile but then remembered you were mad at him, no matter how hot he looked. Crossing your arms you quickly spoke up in a rude tone. “What do you want?”

He chuckled at your defensive nature before replying. “Why so serious, Y/n/n, this is my house after all. I think I have the right to know who’s staying in it.”

You smiled sarcastically before going back to organizing some things in the dresser. “Like I had a choice, Rafael. If it were up to me I’d be shopping on Melrose right now.”

“Ahh, still mad about your recent travel ban I see?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have been banned if you didn’t snitch to my parents, so I blame you.” You shrugged.

He scoffed. “I’m hardly to blame for any of this, you’re lucky you got away with it this long to be honest. It’s a bad look for business.”

“And your partying isn’t? It goes both ways, Rafe. Because I’m sure your dad would love to hear about your smoking and drinking. Then what? I bet your parents are so proud of you.” You turned to face him with a sly smile on your face.

His expression dropped at the mention of his father, which sent a small pang to both of your hearts. You were one who Rafe had trusted enough to confide in sometimes when things were rough between him and his family. You instantly regretted the words that came out of your mouth, realizing that the damage was already done.

Sure you both said and did things to piss the other off, but nothing was done with malicious intentions. And you were worried that those select words against him might damage your friendship long term. Silence came over the atmosphere for what felt like forever before looking at your phone on the dresser that went off.

A text from the Richardson’s daughter Natalia, who was your age.

‘why aren’t you here babe? I miss you :( ’

You smiled at her thoughtfulness before Rafe broke the silence. “Who’s that? Your pogue boyfriend?”

“Natalia Richardson. Asking why I’m not there with the rest of the family.” You responded, choosing to ignore his last question.

“You should tell her that you’d be there if you could just keep your hands off of the less fortunate, huh, Y/n?” He pursed his lips before storming off back to his room. You realized that your previous comment must have hurt him, or he probably wouldn’t have started with you again. Maybe he would’ve even apologized for his behavior.

Pranks amongst each other were common and you had pretty much forgiven him already, but you couldn’t rest easy knowing you intentionally hurt his feelings with something he opened up to you about in confidence. Now it was your turn to at least attempt to apologize, not ready to let your friendship go to shit over this and allow all trust to be ruined.

After only one episode of Euphoria, for some reason your argument with Rafe was still eating you up inside with guilt and you had to do something about it. Reluctantly, you got up and knocked on his bedroom door. You cleared your throat before announcing yourself. “Rafe, it’s me.”

After a few seconds he opened the door in a black hoodie and soft, grey Nike shorts. His darker blonde hair looked like it had a game of tug-of-war played on it, and his eyes were faintly red. Faint tear stains were noticeable on his prominent cheekbones, the sight alone breaking your heart knowing you were the cause of it.

He was silent as he stepped aside, motioning for you to come in. He shut the door behind you before standing in front of you with his hands in his pockets. “I’m really sorry, Rafe. I didn’t mean what I said and I hate myself for saying it in the heat of the moment.” You looked up to make eye contact with him so he could take you somewhat seriously.

He nodded slowly before breaking his silence. “Thanks, Y/n/n.” He sighed before continuing. “I guess I owe you an apology too. I shouldn’t have put myself in your business like that and I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I did it.”

“Are you sure you don’t know why or you’re just afraid to tell me?” You muttered.

He avoided eye contact with you, panic washing over him. “It’s not uh- it’s not that easy.” Rafe cleared his throat to punctuate his statement. Rain came down hard outside of the home, increasing the tension of the moment.

“Fine.” You settled before turning around to leave his room. He lightly grabbed you but his grip was strong enough to hold you back.

“No, we gotta talk this out or it’s never gonna be fixed.”

“Okay. Well, answer this for me. Why are you so concerned about who I hang out with?”

“They aren’t good for you, Sarah either but she doesn’t listen to me. Those boys, JJ especially, are in and out of the county jail every week.” He emphasized. “And you were all over him like it’s no big deal! Please tell me you haven’t stooped so slow to start dating that loser.”

You raised your voice to match his. “For the record, JJ and I are only friends. And you don’t know what’s good or bad for me, Rafe. Why the hell do you even care?” His heart hurt at your words, if you only knew the truth. Once again, he couldn’t muster a reasonable explanation and his mouth ran dry. “Maybe you are jealous after all? Is that it?”

“Why would I be jealous of a pogue-”

“Because you already have everything made blah, blah, blah, yes Rafe, I get it. But the only thing JJ had that night that you didn’t, was me. So am I right?”

He nodded his head in thought before sighing, running a hand through his hair and moving closer to you. “So what if it is? Is that so bad, Y/n? Is it so bad that I want you? T-that I know you better than you know yourself, or just want to care for you because I know I can do it a hell of a lot better than JJ or anyone else can?”

You could’ve sworn the sound of your heart beating was louder than the rain at that point, and for once you were speechless at his confession. Rafe looked above and around you, pacing his room a bit before speaking again, but this time with more nervousness. “Is it so bad that I want you to look at me that way? Or hug me like you do them? Or even give me half the time of day just to- to talk, I don’t know-”

In one swift motion you strolled over to him and cut off his nervous rambling by crashing your lips to his passionately. He immediately kissed you back and you could’ve just about exploded with happiness right then and there. One of your hands were tangled in his hair, the other slung around his neck as he cupped your face with one hand and held your waist with the other. You both pulled back in utter breathlessness, foreheads pressed together as you both smiled like fools.

“It’s not bad, ‘cause I feel it too. In case the kiss wasn’t clear enough for you.” You pecked his lips once more to which he genuinely laughed a little for the first time in a while.

“So... will you be mine then?” He searched your eyes hopefully.

“Of course. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” You closed your eyes and smiled in bliss before pressing a chaste kiss to his jawline.

“You and me both, princess.” He let out a sigh of relief.

Disrupting your long awaited moment, movement was heard outside of the door. Rafe quickly rushed over to open it to see who was spying before Sarah, Topper, and Wheezie all came toppling down onto the floor. “Hey... this is Rafe’s room!” Wheezie tried to cover up.

Topper then spoke up after her, scratching his head. “Uhh.. yeah! Who knew...? It’s so easy to get lost in this damn house..”

“Very funny, guys. Now get out. And no more spying. Go.” Rafe ordered.

“You owe me $20, Wheeze.” Topper reminded the younger girl on their way out.

“We told you they were gonna get together sooner or later!” Sarah winked at you dramatically before pulling the door closed.

The rest of the day was spent tangled up with Rafe, watching movies and just talking to each other without insults being spat towards one another for once. The sound of rain sent you both into a slumber, at peace with the connection that you found in each other at last.

'Cause after the storm's

When the flowers bloom

a/n: ahhh this was my first writing that made me actually feel things, i love it so much. let me know your thoughts pretty pleasee!!!

taglist: @ilovejjmaybank @nxsmss @rosylinn @cameronsrafe @msgorillagripcoochie @mayybank @quxxnxfhxll

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)

Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader

genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol

Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!

wordcount: 2.2k

taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine

a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!

series masterlist

part one part two

The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.

Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.

It was the only face behind the killings.

But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.

“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”

“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”

You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.

You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.

“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”

You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.

“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”

“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.

A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”

Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.

You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.

“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”

Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.

You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.

It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.

For the first time in forever, you looked alive.

Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.

“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”

Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.

You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”

Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”

The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.

You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.

Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.

He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.

Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.

This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.

It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.

The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.

After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.

They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.

A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.

A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.

Billy.

Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”

A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”

With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”

The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.

“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.

“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.

“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.

“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”

The subject's face dropped.

“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”

“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”

The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.

“What is this? What fucking game?”

“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”

“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”

A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”

“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”

He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.

A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”

Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”

Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.

Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.

He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.

That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?

[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]

[lastxviolet]

Madripoor is for Lovers (Zemo x F!Reader) - Ch. 3

Summary: Y/N is a SWORD agent recruited to help Sam and Bucky track down Karli and the super-soldiers. When Helmut Zemo joins the team, he takes a special interest in her. The friendly union is wrought for disaster, but then things take a turn for the worst when Y/N is taken as collateral. Will Zemo keep her forever? Does she even want to escape? And what happened in Madripoor that made the whole thing so complicated?

Warnings: 18+ / smut / oral sex / f receiving

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32878015/chapters/81589774

The hypnotic bass and Zemo's enthusiastic dance moves almost got you carried away. But over the bouncing crowd, you saw Sharon, Bucky, and Sam on the stairs, looking for you.

“Shit,” you mumbled, breaking the trance. “We gotta go.”

Zemo followed your line of sight and turned to lead you back to the group in silence. You try to hide the disappointment on your face.

“We found him,” Sharon yelled over the music upon your approach.

The five of you went over the plan for tomorrow back in Sharon’s suite. You doubted that even with your experience, you could’ve found Dr. Nagel without Sharon's help. In the states, it was easy to pick a needle out of a haystack, because you always knew what you were looking for. But here, everyone was a criminal. Uncharted territory where you had to find the sharpest needle amongst thousands.

“You good?”

Sam’s voice cut through your thoughts. You looked up and noticed the dissipating group. Sharon showed Bucky to his room, and Zemo sat with his eyes glued to a book on the couch. Only Sam remained standing in front of you, looking like he was about to pass out.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Go get some sleep. You look terrible.”

He chuckled and nodded in agreement. “We gotta get the hell out of here. Madripoor has aged me at least ten years.”

“Me too. I miss places where being a criminal makes you the odd one out, not the other way around.”

“Goody two-shoes,” he teased before turning to find his room.

Sharon waved him on from down the hall and they got back into it about her pardon and what she’d missed in the states.

Your attention shifted to the only other person in the room. Zemo’s eyes wasted no time abandoning his book and landing on you as soon as you were alone.

“The Odyssey,” you asked, pointing to his book. “I didn’t take you for someone who enjoys fiction.”

He smiled at the attention and made room for you on the couch.

“I often find that there are elements of truth in every fantasy. The human spirit is sometimes better examined by poets than by professors. This, for instance, is a brilliant study on heroes.”

“Hmm, studying heroes? An attempt to know thy enemy?”

He laughed and turned to you with his elbow up on the back of the couch, bringing him less than a foot away from your face. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the lights down the hall go out. There were no interruptions, or easy outs, now. All that was left was you, and the only man who’d ever made you truly nervous.

“Y/N, if you were in Odysseus’s place, content and immortal, would you give it up to go back home?”

“You’re asking me if I’d abandon my legacy and family to shack up on an island with some mistress?”

He chuckled and nodded in approval. “Very wise. But what does he gain by leaving? Struggle? Hardship? Mortality?”

You tilted your head to match his. “Are you telling me that you’d stay on the island?”

His expression shifted for the first time since you’d stepped foot in Madripoor. The overconfident, smirking Baron dissolved into a man.

A man who hid the sense of riotousness that he carried with dramatic flair. A man whose charm and wit seemed fabricated.

This man now, fighting off sleepy eyes and grappling with the moral quandary posed, seemed burdened. You wondered if his quest for justice would ever get to be too much. After all the destruction he’d caused, could he still see himself as the exactor of fairness? Were the Avengers still his enemy? Were you?

“No,” he confessed looking down at the copy in his hands.

Your lips twitched but you didn’t smile. “You’d make the hard choice — the hero’s choice if it came down to it.”

He looked almost somber at your words and nodded.

“In another life…perhaps.”

His voice wavered, almost as if he regretted saying it out loud. The briefing that Sam and Bucky had given you about him flashed in your mind.

A hero's choice was the right thing to do; the hard thing to do. You knew that he was a soldier before everything happened. Just like you.

Was that not a hero’s choice?

He tore the Avengers apart in an attempt to stitch up his own heart. An eye for an eye. Avenging his country because its destruction had been glossed over by the world. His loss fueled his anger but he was more capable than most. A man without armor, or mystical abilities was able to wreak havoc on those who had wronged him.

Was that heroism?

If losing those you love didn’t permit revenge, you weren't sure what did.

He broke the silence by tapping his knuckle on the book.

“It is the perfect testament to the valiance of heroes,” he continued. "But, I must say that the wisest thing Odysseus did was marry his wife.”

You laughed and nodded, remembering how she saved the day. Without her, Odysseus’s homecoming would’ve been much more perilous for him.

“I often find that behind every great man is an even better woman.”

He smirked and didn’t miss a beat. “Like you with…your Avengers.”

“I stand beside them,” you corrected.

He raised an eyebrow and waved a hand. “Semantics."

You gave him an eye roll in return.

He smiled then, wider than you had ever seen. It almost made him seem shy. Perhaps it was because he was making a genuine point, masked in humor.

You were well aware of your importance to this mission and yet burdened by the fact that it didn’t make you a member of their special club. When this was all over, you wouldn’t be an Avenger, or anywhere close. You’d go back to S.W.O.R.D to wait until called upon again. It hadn’t occurred to you before, but there was a pang of sadness there where the thought rested. It’d be a mistake to let Zemo know but it seemed to be too late.

“You’re making fun of me.”

His hand brushed yours. “No. I am merely expressing my concerns about your allegiances.”

Still aware of the small amount of alcohol left in your system, you looked away from his quirked moving lips.

“Enlighten me, Baron. What wrong decisions do you think I’m making?”

Frozen in place, you let him brush his fingers along your wrist to your arm. He took his time, tracing patterns on your skin and inspecting his work with an unwavering gaze. Only when his thumb caressed your cheek, and his hand landed on your neck did he look you in the eyes again. The air in your lungs was gone and your body betrayed you with a furious eruption of butterflies.

“Living a hero’s life,” he said somber-eyed and serious.

Your heart rate quickened. As if you’d learned nothing in S.W.O.R.D about manipulation, you were back to watching his lips. They parted slightly, as if he had something else to say but thought better of it.

A hero.

You didn't feel like one.

A sidekick, maybe. But even then, no one knew your name. No one sang your praises at home or breathed a sigh of relief knowing you were out there in the world fighting evil. It seemed that the only one who thought of you as more than an assistant was Zemo.

Your heart felt heavy then. The two of you were impossible. An inconceivable pair brought together by chance.

But that didn’t make his dark eyes any less enticing or his words any less intoxicating.

That didn’t make you any further from his lips.

He was a breath away, but so was your own destruction.

In another life, the island might tempt you.

“Look,” you said glancing past him to find something to change the subject. “It’s a full moon.”

Without sparing him another glance, you crossed the floor in four quick steps to the large windows. Never one to give up easily, you heard him follow close behind.

He beat you there and pushed open the glass door before gesturing towards the balcony in silence.

You looked down at your feet until the skyline drew your eyes. The plan to diffuse the tension had not worked in the slightest. The moonlit balcony overlooking the beautiful city had only made it worse.

You heard him stop a few feet from you and then settle on the lone armchair. The reality of the situation hit you like a train. Away from the windows, you had privacy. This high up no one would see you and everyone else was in bed. You'd meant to creep out of the lion's den but instead, you'd locked yourself in.

“The moon is a friend for the lonesome to talk to,” Zemo mused from behind you.

“Carl Sanburg,” you confirmed, so he knew you didn't think he'd made it up.

Both of you were silent then. Swaying in the tension you'd built. Sanity pulling you back inside, inexplicable hope keeping you planted in place.

“Are you lonely, Baron?”

The words fell from your lips more delicate and intimate than you had meant them to. You let slip that you cared about his answer. That you might even care to cure him of the ailment.

“Me? No.”

You turned and scoffed.

“Liar. You were in a cell for years and you hardly talk to anyone now that you’re out.”

He leaned back in the chair, arms on either rest and a leg crossed with the ankle of his right knee. His demeanor was harmless in the same way that a predator poised to pounce was. Elegant, still, and ready for the kill.

“Not true,” he corrected. “I talk to you.”

“One person isn’t enough,” you said, taking a step closer.

Were you walking into disaster? Or being pulled? You couldn't tell the difference between his seduction and your own reckless desires any longer.

“The right person though…can be,” he half-whispered. “And you, Y/N, are more than I deserve.”

He gazed up at you from the chair. Kings throughout history, in war-won golden thrones and elegant capes, paled in comparisons to how regal he looked. Anointed with a crown of moonlight, ruling over whomever he pleased.

Your eyes widened with the admission. “Baron — ”

“Helmut, please.” He stood then and met you near the railing, his hand grazing your hip. “Only if for tonight.”

You shook your head, knowing this was a bad idea. His hand made its way to your waist regardless. He pulled you against his chest before searching your eyes for any signal that you were going to run. You knew he’d find nothing. You knew you mirrored his look of lust with blown pupils and flushed cheeks.

“Have I gone too far,” he whispered, bringing his other hand to brush loose hair behind your ear.

“No,” you sighed, letting him pull you closer and brush his lips to your cheek and jaw.

“Tell me if I do,” he whispered again before finally capturing your lips with his.

You uttered no complaints as his tentative kiss turned bruising and possessive. His arms wound around your waist, crushing you into him. But you needed to feel closer. He grunted as you sprung to action, flinging your arms around his neck, deepening the desperate kiss. He tasted like whiskey and something sweet. A cool breeze brushed against the exposed parts of your body. You let your hands wander beneath his coat, chasing warmth and proximity. He let you do as you please, only insisting that his lips stayed on yours.

You let out a whimper as his hand explored the front of your dress. He stopped to press his warm hand against your breast, before holding your face.

It was then that he pulled away, steadying your searching lips with a grip on your chin.

“Ich esse nicht,” he sighed, kissing a pattern to your ear. “Ich schlafe nicht, ich tue nichts anderes, als an dich zu denken.”

His teeth grazed your pulse point, leaving you gasping for air.

“I don’t speak German,” you managed to stutter out.

A hand slid up the back of your dress, gripping the zipper before undoing it in one swift motion and the fabric fell to the floor. The cool air seized your naked torso for only a moment before Zemo pressed himself against you again. The coat you’d complained about before, now provided warmth and security. You tipped your head back, almost over the edge of the balcony as he continued worshipping your neck and chest.

“I don’t eat, I don’t sleep,” he said between wet open-mouthed kisses on your breasts. His hot mouth left purple spots that cooled instantly in the chilly night air.

“I do nothing but think of you,” he finished before toying with your hardened nipple between his teeth.

You moaned then, louder than you should’ve, and let your eyes flutter open. The world was upside-down but you made no motion to move. You were making Madripoor proud by being pressed up against a balcony by an international criminal.

Utterly pleased with himself, Zemo raised his face back towards yours, leaning you both over the edge.

“Shhh liebling,” he cooed.

He pulled you back over, kissing your shoulder before removing his jacket and draping it over you. Each brush of his lips feeling more improper than the last.

“We would not want your friends to see you like this.”

In the next second, he swept you off of your feet and hoisted you into his strong arms. You watched the world sway around you and then settle when he placed you on the lounge chair, letting you get some warmth back from the coat and cushions.

He draped one of your legs over an armrest, exposing you to him except for a thin pair of underwear.

“Not with you spread open for me,” he growled. He towered over you for only a moment before kneeling between your legs. The man whose stature made him the tallest amongst giants; the most important in any room he chose, knelt before you.

“What would they say,” he mumbled in a trace. His hands gripped both of your thighs, causing an eruption of goosebumps across your whole body. “If they saw you like this, with me?”

He looked up at you then, raising an eyebrow, and tracing the inside of your thigh with his thumb.

You answered him breathlessly. “They’d tell you to stop.”

“And what would you say to that?”

His voice sent shockwaves through your system. Dark and sultry, with a hint of danger. You threw your head back again, barely able to keep a single thought straight. Your body shuddered but you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or the need for his touch. When you looked back to him, he was surveying your body with the hunger of a starved wolf.

“Would you want me to stop?” His voice was gentle and sweet then, asking in earnest.

“Meine Liebe," he taunted you for consent as he flashed a smirk and pulled something from his pocket.

Cold metal grazed your thigh. A moan escaped your throat as he unsheathed a serrated knife and caressed your skin with the dull side.

“I wouldn’t want you to stop,” you gasped, almost vibrating with anticipation. “I don’t want you to stop — Helmut — please don’t stop.”

He chucked again, before focusing his attention on the area between your legs. You bucked slightly as the icy knife slid underneath the fabric. He made one strong slash upwards and you felt the fabric fall away from your wet core. One of his hands gripped your ass, but only for a second before he tore the rest of the fabric from your body.

“How could I ever withhold something from you, liebling?” His nose grazed your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most. It was only a moment before you felt his breath between your legs.

“How cruel it would be,” he growled. You moaned and slapped a hand over your mouth as he kissed your sensitive bundle of nerves. “To not give you everything.”

His tongue swirled against you in a tantalizing pattern, stroking you deliciously. He licked you methodically like he was reading the blueprint of your body right then and there. He held each thigh in a punishing grip, pressing you deeper into the cushions as he made a meal of you. The stars above your head blurred and the universe shifted.

If this was your destruction then it was illustrious. You'd do it over and over again until you landed in a cell right next to him.

“Helmut,” you whined with a heaving chest.

“Tell me what you want,” he mumbled between flicks of his tongue. “And it is yours.”

You would’ve begged him to let you cum but he beat you to it, making your back arch and mouth fall open in ecstasy. You trembled beneath him, over and over, but he didn’t let up. Your legs strained from being extended by his unflinching hands. You tried to stutter something out to him but no sound came except for content sighs and haphazard gasps. But his eyes remained closed regardless of the noise.

Without his mouth on you, he would’ve been mistakable for a good Christian, deep in prayer. Brow's furrowed in focus and devotion; lips moving in silent divine appeals. Only he could make you feel worthy of an alter. You couldn't picture anyone ever worshipping you in the same way again. It was his, you thought. I am his.

Lost in pleasure and shock, you reached up to run your nails against his scalp. Only then did he release you, and raise to meet your waiting lips as they trembled.

“You,” was all you could manage to whisper. “Only you.”

He pulled you from the seat, to wrap your legs around him. You brought your forehead to his and let him pepper you with chaste kisses.

“When I have you,” he said, before pulling the coat around you again. “It will be in a proper bed.”

You stared at him, confused and overwhelmed. The space between your legs ached with a longing to be filled but he let your legs fall away, and stood up.

“We can’t…I mean not now — they’ll hear.”

Zemo smiled and nodded while looking for something on the ground. After a moment of searching, he picked up the torn pieces of the red underwear you had been wearing. Before you could retrieve it, he pocketed the shorn fabric and stared you straight in the eyes.

“Worry not, Y/N,” he purred, reaching a hand out to help you up. “We have all the time in the world.”