#i am a fiend for angst and i will never turn it down

[hailsatanacab]

Stop holy shit when I tell you I was this 👌 close to crying with that, my loorrddd that's the good shit

I'm sorry now I'm also imagining Danny finally calming down, getting patched up, everyone arriving back at the cave because the GIW have retreated for now and they all need to regroup/research/find out who went down in the fight because they're all terrified and losing their minds with worry

Only to find a stranger beaming at them, waving a little, practically glowing in happiness, with blood and tears still drying on his face

He's so comfortable with them—moreso than any civilian has a right to be—even if he's still obviously a little shy, but it all makes sense when Dick explains that he used the time traveller identification code

"Sorry for calling you Dad earlier, Bruce, it just sorta slipped out," Danny says, ducking his head. He's sitting on the bed in the med bay, propped up against the pillows. While Alfred says his wounds are healing remarkably quickly, it's still so draining. He's so tired.

"There's no need to apologise, Danny, I'm just happy you're here now," Bruce says, a small smile on his face. His hands twitch, already wanting to smooth Danny's hair out of his face.

"You know us in the future? How come you're here now?" Red Robin asks, only to get smacked upside the head by Nightwing.

"Leave him alone, Red, let him get some rest."

Danny smiles gratefully at Dick and shifts his legs under the blanket while he tries to think of what to tell them. Really, he wants to curl into a ball, tuck himself away, rest easy in the knowledge that he's safe with them and not think about that, but the wound at his side pulls and he owes them some sort of explanation.

"This is my present, but I was sent to the future where I met you all there. We were... I was with you for about a week when—" Danny swallows, suddenly feeling sick.

He can't look at Bruce.

A hand sneaks into his own, but even as he grips it tight, he can't force himself to open his eyes to see whose it is.

"It's okay, we won't make you—"

"Wait, a week?" Red Robin interrupts again. "I thought you said he used 1 colon 65 dash 9?"

Danny nods.

"I can't believe you adopted him after a week, B, you have a problem."

"Adopted?" Danny asks, confused. His stomach does a funny flip that almost feels like hope even as he tries so hard not to think about it.

"You called him Dad after a week!" Red Robin says, pointing at him with wide eyes, fixating on the opposite of what Danny wants. "No wonder you adopted him, B, he's imprinted. Like a little duckling."

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[bellaxgiornata]

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Two]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.7k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: I am so happy to see how much love this series has already gotten! And now part two of this angsty series is finally here! The next installment is already written and will be in Matt's POV. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably @two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee 

Curled up on your couch, having made yourself as small as possible, you’d been half-watching the series that you had playing on Netflix. Mostly you’d had it on for the background noise, not wanting to feel quite as alone as you actually were. Eyes closed, you lay there huddled under your softest blanket drifting in and out of sleep. As much as you didn't want to admit it, you'd picked this blanket because it had been Matt’s favorite one at your place, soft even to his senses. The pair of you had curled up on your couch underneath it together countless times in the past.

Turning and burying your face into your pillow, you fought down yet another wave of nausea at the movement and attempted to muffle the whimper that slipped out of you at the thought of Matt. It had only been just over a day since your fight with him which had ultimately ended the relationship. He’d never even reached out to you once he’d eventually returned home Thursday night after dealing with whatever had been more important than staying and talking to you. He hadn’t made a single attempt to discuss the important thing you’d told him you'd needed to talk to him about, either, clearly not finding it important enough to give it his attention. And he obviously must not have cared about how hurt you’d been that night when he'd left–which had seemed very unlike the Matt you’d initially fallen in love with. 

He didn’t reach out to you all of Friday, either. Not that it had really come as a surprise to you. Though that hadn’t stopped you from staring at your phone on and off throughout the day, willing him to call and apologize and prove that his behavior lately wasn’t really him. But your phone never rang and that only further cemented your anger at Matt. So you never made an attempt to reach out to him in return. Instead, you’d spent most of your day at work crying or trying not to puke in a bathroom stall, barely able to focus on getting anything done. 

If Matt had wanted to talk to you, he’d have reached out and talked to you. Things were over between you both now, that was incredibly apparent. Despite how hurt you were about the way things had ended, and how much you'd been crying over Matt and the breakup along with your current situation, you were also absolutely pissed at Matt, too. Pissed that he had treated you the way he had recently–and pissed at yourself for sticking around long enough thinking that wasn’t Matt. Because it clearly was with how often he’d broken promises to you, even if he’d never been quite like that in the almost year and a half you’d both been together. He’d certainly changed on you, showing you his true self which was too wrapped up in playing savior trying to protect Hell’s Kitchen.

Now it was Saturday morning and you’d woken up feeling exceptionally hormonal and nauseous. You hadn’t even been able to finish the buttered toast you’d made this morning in the hopes of settling your stomach, the taste of it so strong that you found yourself gagging until you’d tossed it in the garbage and opened a window to alleviate the smell of it in your apartment. You’d read about the heightened sense of smell for pregnant women just last night when you’d been researching early pregnancy symptoms and wondering what to expect. Immediately your first reaction was to call Matt, wanting to tell him and make a joke about having super senses just like him. But the moment you’d pulled up his contact on your phone, you’d remembered you couldn’t call him.

You’d spent this morning trying your hardest not to think about him and then inevitably sobbing into your pillow when you failed. You had already flipped it around a handful of times now, but still you couldn’t seem to find a spot to rest your head that wasn’t already soaked from your tears. It didn’t help that you were hungry–almost ravenous–but simultaneously disgusted by the thought of any and all food. You were tired, too. A level of tired you’d never felt before, and you figured your past few nights of poor sleep weren’t the only thing to attribute that to.

All you wanted to do today was sulk on your couch. You’d made an appointment for Tuesday with an obstetrician for your first visit and you’d already placed a grocery order last night–making sure you added prenatals and plenty of fresh fruit to your order. Now you just wanted to wallow in misery for a while and pray that the nausea didn’t last the entirety of the first trimester. You didn’t think you’d survive that on top of dealing with a broken heart.

But all your plans to be lonely and miserable fell right out the window the moment you heard a few knocks sound out from your apartment door behind you. Groaning, you buried your face further into the cold, damp pillow. Half of you hoped it wasn’t Matt, the other half of you wanted to smack him with one of his billy clubs.

“Who’s there?” you called out, words partially muffled by pillow.

“It’s Karen,” the familiar voice replied a little hesitantly. “I brought coffee and bagels.”

You groaned again, the few contents of your stomach swirling around uncomfortably at the thought of either of those things. And you loved coffee and bagels.

Reluctantly you pushed yourself up from the couch, pausing for a moment when you were hit with a surge of dizziness. You moaned pathetically, running a hand across your forehead as you waited it out. When the room finally stopped spinning, you fully rose to your feet before taking your time making your way over to your apartment door.

Opening it, you were greeted with the sight of Karen in casual clothes. Which meant she hadn't gone into the office this morning, though judging by the sad smile on her face as she quickly scanned you over, you knew that she'd heard about the breakup. Or at least suspected it. 

"Hey," she greeted you gently, holding up the cardboard coffee holder in one hand and the brown paper bag of bagels in the other. "I brought an offering of comfort."

"So you know?" you asked her.

Stepping to the side, you gestured her into your apartment. Karen didn't hesitate, heading straight towards your living room as you closed the door after her. Slowly you turned, trudging your way to your living room and trying your best not to look like you were going to be sick. 

“Suspected,” Karen said, glancing over her shoulder at you. “But now I feel like my suspicions have been confirmed.”

Settling down onto the couch beside Karen, you watched as she reached over towards your coffee table and pulled a coffee out of the holder. Turning towards you, she offered it to you with a warm smile. You reached out, about to accept the cup from her hand–desperate for caffeine–but when the strong aroma of caramel and espresso from the latte hit your nose, you nearly retched. Grimacing, you quickly waved a hand at the coffee, shaking your head and cringing away from it. Karen drew her hand back, sniffing the coffee with a furrow between her brows as she eyed the cup in her hand. 

"You usually get caramel lattes, right?" she asked, glancing up at you in confusion. 

"Yeah, I just–just don't feel like coffee right now," you lied.

"Okay," Karen replied slowly, setting the coffee back down on your coffee table. "So do you want to tell me what happened?” she asked, picking up her own coffee and focusing back on you. “Because Matt was…an absolute mess at the office yesterday. I mean, granted, he’s been coming in looking like shit for awhile now, but he seemed half alive yesterday. Wouldn't say why, either, but I had a feeling it involved you.” She paused, her blue eyes surveying you closely. “And judging by the fact that it looks like you've been crying, I'm guessing it does."

You sighed, gaze dropping down towards your lap. There was no point in hiding the breakup. Not from Karen. She was too perceptive and you knew one way or another she’d figure it out. Plus, it would feel good to not feel alone for just a bit.

“Yeah, we broke up,” you confessed. “Thursday night. And it was…awful.”

She gasped, the noise drawing your focus up towards her on the couch beside you. Her hand had frozen with her coffee cup just before her lips, her eyes wide in shock. A second later her cup was lowering back to her lap, her left hand darting out and grabbing yours.

“Are you serious?” she asked. “What the hell happened? I thought you two were doing so well together?”

Shrugging, you felt a lump forming in your throat. You tried to swallow it down, but stubbornly it refused to disappear. 

“We had been until a couple of months ago when things gradually began to go downhill,” you told her. “I knew about him going out as Daredevil. Obviously I had always known about that since we’d started dating. And it hadn’t been an issue because there’d always been compromise in the relationship. But over the past couple of months he’d slowly been going out more and more,” you explained, feeling the tears starting to burn at your eyes yet again this morning. “Until he was going out every single night. For a couple of weeks straight. And he kept repeatedly promising me he’d make time for me over and over, but then he kept forgetting or making excuses and going out as Daredevil instead. And it just–just got to be too much, you know?”

Karen nodded, squeezing your hand gently in hers. “So you ended things with him?” she asked. “Because he kept choosing Daredevil over you?”

You pulled a face at her question, quickly shaking your head. “What? No,” you answered. “I told him I needed to talk to him about something important and he decided that running around as Daredevil was more important than being there for me. And I practically begged him to stay in, Karen. And you know what he did?”

“Something very dumb and Matt-like?” she guessed.

“He got pissed at me like it was all my fault because I didn’t accept what he does as Daredevil!” you exclaimed, anger soon replacing your sadness. “Which is utter bullshit because I have always been supportive of him. Always there to help patch him up and clean the blood off of him at the end of his nights. Making sure he actually ate dinner and helping him remember upcoming appointments because he was always so distracted. Offering him comfort whenever he needed it after a difficult night. And I never once asked him to stop despite how much I worried about him.”

Your right hand curled into a fist in your lap, the memory of the way Matt had spoken to you the other night flooding back. Gritting your teeth together, your focus dropped down to your lap.

“I loved him–loved him even as Daredevil. But I needed him that night, Karen,” you ground out, a tear slipping down your cheek despite your rage. “And I told him that. And yet he still chose to walk out on me.”

Karen was silent beside you for a long moment, her hand tightening around yours. Raising your right hand up, you wiped away a few stray tears with the back of it. You sniffled, your body feeling a confusing mess of anger and sadness that had you wanting to scream and throw everything in your apartment but also curl up in your bed and sleep away your pain. 

“What did you need to talk to him about?” Karen asked softly.

Your hand froze mid-swipe of a tear on your cheek as her question broke the silence. Slowly your eyes slid up, landing on Karen’s knowing blue ones. It was like she already could see right through you to the answer. Yet again you realized there was no point trying to hide something from her, especially because you knew you could confide the truth in her.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered.

Karen inhaled a sharp breath at your confession, nodding her head slowly in response. Once again you tried to swallow that lump in your throat which now seemed almost permanently stuck there in the silence that followed. 

“So he doesn’t know?” she eventually asked.

You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I found out Thursday morning. Told him earlier in the day that I really needed to talk to him. But he wouldn’t stay and talk that night. He was rude and mean and then he just left. Never tried to reach out to me afterwards. So we’re just…done. And now I’m trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to raise a child alone in the city.”

Her brows shot up in surprise onto her forehead. “Alone? Why would you be raising it alone? Are you not going to tell Matt he has a child?” she questioned.

Expression shifting quickly, you shot Karen a flat look. “Come on, Karen,” you said. “Of course I’ll tell him. But let’s be real here. Matt isn’t going to want to be a father. The man barely takes care of himself. He can’t even commit to a relationship without messing up his priorities. You think he’d want the responsibilities of having a child? Because I sure as shit don’t. Not after seeing him the other night.”

“Okay, yes,” she agreed, nodding again as she reached over to set her undrank coffee onto your coffee table. “He’s definitely got his flaws. But we’re talking about Matt here. He’s got a big heart underneath all that stubborn, self-flagellating bullshit. He would never turn his back on you–” she abruptly raised a hand to cut you off the moment you’d opened your mouth to counter her comment, “ –or at the very least, his own child.”

You shook your head, running hand across your forehead. Karen meant well, you knew that, but she was wrong. She hadn’t seen him going out every single night, fixated on that stupid Russian mafia like you had for weeks now. She hadn’t seen him that night when he’d talked to you the way he had. A couple of weeks ago, you’d never have believed that was Matt, either.

“I don’t think he’d not have a relationship with his own child,” you told her slowly, “but Matthew Murdock would never want to be a father. There is nothing more important to him than this goddamn city that he thinks he has to protect. So yes,” you stated, “I’m clearly doing this on my own, Karen.”

A slow, sad smile spread over her lips at your words. Shifting uncomfortably on the couch under her stare, your gaze darted over to the unopened bag of bagels on your coffee table. Your stomach gave a hungry lurch at the smell of the cream cheese. Reaching out, you grabbed the bag and immediately began to open it.

“This is the first thing that has smelled good in days ,” you told her.

She laughed lightly, picking her coffee back up and taking a drink. You immediately pulled out one of the packages, ripping it open before tearing a large bite out of the bagel. Somehow it tasted exponentially better than you remembered bagels ever tasting before.

“Have them both,” Karen urged. “I take it you’ve been experiencing pregnancy symptoms already then?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, chewing a bite of bagel before swiftly swallowing it down. “I feel like I’m always nauseous and tired. And I’ve been getting headaches nonstop. I’m hungry but almost everything I normally eat sounds and smells absolutely disgusting lately. I couldn’t even stomach buttered toast this morning–I had to open a window just to get the smell out of the apartment.”

Karen winced beside you. “That sounds awful.”

“Yeah, it is,” you replied. “And I researched other symptoms common in pregnancy, and you know what? They don’t sound much better, either.”

Karen’s fingers drummed lightly on her coffee cup as she chewed her lip, eyeing you. You continued to devour the bagel in your hands, your eyes narrowing as you watched her. Eventually one of your brows raised at her in a silent question.

“I don’t know if this is a stupid question,” Karen began cautiously, “but are you…excited at all? About being pregnant? I mean, I know this clearly wasn’t planned and it's all new to you still if you only found out on Thursday but…you’re having a baby. Have you–have you processed that yet?”

Lowering the bagel down to your lap, you let Karen’s question settle in your mind. You really hadn’t given that too much thought in the few days since you’d found out you were pregnant. Admittedly you’d been too focused on initially trying to tell Matt the news. But then when that didn’t go as planned, you’d been trying to deal with the pain of a broken heart while trying to set up an appointment for an obstetrician and also trying to read up on information about early pregnancy. You really hadn’t thought too much about your feelings.

You knew for a fact you wanted this baby, though. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind about that. Not that you had issues with the alternative, but you’d known the moment you’d seen those two pink lines on that pregnancy test that you were keeping it. No matter what that meant.

“I haven’t really thought about it, no,” you admitted quietly. “But I do know I want this.” 

Nervously chewing your lip, you wondered how Karen would feel about a big reason that you were so certain. Would you sound ridiculous considering how things had ended with you and Matt? Was it ridiculous? You weren’t entirely sure of the answer yourself.

“I don’t really know how to explain it but…as angry as I am at Matt and as much as I’m trying to move on from him,” you slowly admitted aloud, “I know there’s–there’s always going to be feelings there for him. That some part of me will always love him. And this baby–” you continued, your left hand unconsciously landing affectionately over your abdomen as your eyes began to water, “–it's a part of him. A part of us . Back when things were good between us. And even though this pregnancy wasn’t planned and it’s not what I would’ve initially chosen to have happen right now, I can’t help but love this child already.” Lips trembling, your gaze dropped down towards your abdomen, your hand continuing to gently rub across the top of it. “I can’t help but already love the fact that it’s both Matt and I in there. Even if I want to scream and slap the shit out of him right now for how much he hurt me.”

A few more tears slipped out of your eyes and you sniffled, turning your head and wiping the dampness on your cheeks onto the sleeve of your shirt. You felt Karen’s hand gently grasping yours again, the one you had resting over your belly. Glancing back towards her, you saw her send you a watery smile herself, her eyes glistening with tears.

“Whatever happens,” she whispered, “you know you’re not alone going through all of this. I’m always here for you. And whenever you tell Fog and Marci, I know they both will be, too. I know I can’t speak for Matt, but know that you’ve always got us.”

Your heart twisted in your chest at her promise. The pain of Matt not being in the picture was a sharp contrast to the love you felt right now from your friends about this situation. A smile gradually spread across your face, tears still trailing their way warm and wet down your cheeks. Though this time not entirely from sadness, but also from gratitude that your time with Matt had at least brought you such wonderful friends. 

“Thank you, Kare,”  you croaked out, reaching across the couch and quickly wrapping her in a hug. “You don’t know how much that means to me to hear. This is…definitely scary trying to navigate alone right now.”

“Well I’ll always be here for you,” she promised again, hugging you tightly back. “ Especially when you need someone to go baby shopping with you or to help put together a baby registry for that shower you know Marci and I are going to throw you. And I’d love to help you pick out little outfits for a girl or a boy anytime.”

You laughed, touched by her enthusiasm as the tears fell a little harder. You eventually pulled away from Karen, wiping a hand across your eyes as you tried to will them to finally stop falling. You’d already spent too much time crying this morning as it was.

“I think it’s a bit longer before I know the gender,” you told her, the faint smile still on your face. “But maybe an impromptu baby shopping trip is in the cards soon. Once I get a little farther along.”

“How far are you?” she asked curiously.

Her blue eyes dropped down towards your stomach, though you knew there wasn’t a baby bump visible yet.

“Nearing six weeks,” you answered, your smile growing a little wider. “At eight weeks I’ll have the first ultrasound, which I’m honestly a little excited for because I think it’ll make this all feel even more real.” Your eyes dropped back down to your abdomen, the smile still lingering on your lips. “And that’s when I’ll get to see them for the first time. Hear their heartbeat.”

At the mention of your baby’s heartbeat, a sharp pang hit you straight in the chest. Your smile faltered instantly as a thought struck you in that very moment. 

Matt wouldn’t need one of those machines to hear their heartbeat.

Your jaw clenched tight, your hand gripping firmly around the partially finished bagel you were still holding. More thoughts suddenly began to race through your mind as you sat there on your couch, briefly forgetting Karen was even there.

How would Matt feel when he heard his own child’s heartbeat for the first time? Would it affect him at all? Enough to ever make something else more important to him than just Hell’s Kitchen?

Because after the other night, you didn’t think anything could do that.

[ferinehuntressmoved]

𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘎  𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙  𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘕𝘌𝘙  𝘞𝘌𝘓𝘓  𝘊𝘈𝘕  𝘗𝘖𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘠  𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌  𝘞𝘙𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎  𝘛𝘖𝘎𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙  𝘈  𝘓𝘖𝘛  𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘐𝘌𝘙.

NAME :　Panda

PRONOUNS :　She / Her

PREFERENCE  OF  COMMUNICATION :　Discord. While I can use tumblr dms, I most likely might miss them. Discord is the best form of communication for me.

NAME  OF  MUSE(S) :　Primary muses are Caitlyn Kiramman & Ahri. Secondary are Mel Medarda & Aloy. Tertiary are Elora & Vi. By Request is Nidalee & Janna

EXPERIENCE  /  HOW  LONG  (  MONTHS  /  YEARS? ) :　Holy shit, you want me to count that far back. You want me to tell you how old I really am!?! So, I started to roleplay when computers were pretty new to houses. YES! I was one of those kids that was graced by the first computers in houses! I think my first computer was a IMB one or something, but I started playing on a computer with internet back in 2000. My parents didn't have a lot of money so we couldn't get an earlier computer; this was a gift from a friend at church for me. It had Windows 98 I think or something. I don't know.

Anyway, got distracted, but when that  came around, one of the first forums every I think that had roleplaying on the web was called Avidgamers. I played Pokemon as a self insert character. One liner diaster writer I was. So yeah, I've been roleplaying for about 23 years now, but in terms of writing, I have been writing stories since I was 9 years old, so that is about 26 years (I use to also write self insert stories in Sailor Moon or Pokemon or things like that XD). Anywho, I went on a tangent, anyone who reads this your amazing.

BEST  EXPERIENCE :　Oh man, I'm not sure. There are so many things that could be my best. I use to own forums before, I had some amazing partners. I miss them dearly and I hope they are doing amazing things now. Honestly, I think its just the level of growth I've had over the years. From going to being a self-insert writer who could only write a line or two, to now trying to expand my writing and doing more. To be more quality then quantity, but also meeting partners who absolutely challenge me to write better and be better. I want to be good for people, but there are those partners that absolutely push me to try even harder and be even better.

RP  PET  PEEVES  /  DEALBREAKERS :　I'm not saying this is a pet peeve? but I typically stray away from one liners or massive purple prose writing that I don't understand what I'm reading. While I never deny anyone's choice of writing, these are the things I tend to stay away from because I personally cannot write them. I  can't really say what my pet peeves are? I probably have some but I don't know of the top of my mind.

MUSE  PREFERENCES  FLUFF,   ANGST  OR  SMUT :　I am, hands down, an absolute fiend for angst. I know it might be overwhelming for some people but I really find it carthatic for myself? and have a double enjoyment of angst that turns to fluff. I like to call it Angsty Fluff, or Fluffy Angst. The bonding of two people in difficult moments whether that is fighting to survive death or helping someone through a rough period. Two people, bonding and encouraging each other is something I really enjoy to write. I also don't mind writing smut, I actually enjoy it but I do tend to write smut with people who I heavily plot with often.

PLOTS  OR  MEMES :　Plots. While I post memes a lot, I do try to create a plot line to those memes too. I need some kidn of foundation. I am not looking for a written out script we have to follow to a T, that's not what I mean. What I am looking for is just like this idea to build around, maybe even talking about our muses connections and waht they are dealing with at the time. That kind of foundation and design really helps me feel more connected to our msues and the writing. I love memes, but I tend to only continue memes with people I plot with a lot.

LONG  OR  SHORT  REPLIES :　I love long threads. like you don't have to apologize for anything because I thrive on really long replies. I have had replies go up to 1.5k words, which absolutely thrills me. The shortest replies I can do is maybe 2 paragraphs. Any shorter then that, and I tend to loose interest and have to drop it.

BEST TIME TO WRITE :　Honestly, no idea. I am far more productive at night my time (CST). I tend to stay up til 2 or 3am.

ARE  YOU  LIKE  YOUR  MUSE(S) :　Caitlyn is very much my muse, so much so we relate on many different levels. I understand her deeply and I'm very connected to her. As for my other muses, yes and now. But caitlyn, hands down, is almost like a part of me that I get to write fully.

➤ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 [ : ] @knifvd - Thank you dear ♡ ➤ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 [ : ] @shimmerbeasts, @hexcoremagician, @goldenfists, @futureforged, @goldusk, @gauntlets-shot, @blackrosesmatron, @angelicxlly, @dynaisms, @decidentia, @demacianhcart, @jynxd, @piltover-sharpshooter, @powdied, @ofspvrta, @undercity-prodigy, @torntruth, @tricoloredillusion, @realmyths, @weavertali, and anyone else who wants to.

[imaginespazzi]

Hi bestie 🥰

Sorry it took me a lil while to check in but I wanted to make sure I formed some sensical thoughts after reading part 1! Although, this might actually all be non-sensical because I’m still reeling from it all and I’m nowhere near as articulate but anyway, here goes (side note: am I listening to if the world was ending while writing this? you bet I am):

WOW WOW WOW, the beginning? My heart broke immediately and as the biggest angst fiend, I was like oh- this- this is gonna be immaculate I already know.

And of course it was. OF COURSE IT WAS.

The photos of them on the wall?? And Paige’s realisation of how much she fucked up cos Azzi never once let go even though Paige ignored her for a WHOLE FUCKING YEAR!!!

The flashback to when Azzi broke the UCLA news to Paige; yeah you ATE that. I know you said you might take inspiration from my suggestion and that’s pretty much how it played out in my mind, only your version was a hundred thousand times better- like the talent is just unmatched.

Paige’s first reaction being “BUT YOU NAMED YOUR DOG STEWIE!!!!” Is so fucking real lmao, I laughed and cried.

Nika standing ten toes down for her twin always, I respect it.

And Jealous Paige? Yeah my favourite trope fr ✊ (also the fact that she already got jealous of carol of all ppl?? lmao, i can't even imagine how she'd react to seeing Azzi with someone that's actually into her 😭)

And then the ending?? You’re sick for that cos see now that’s all I’ll be thinking about until we get the next part (making your fics my roman empire? it’s only fair)

Thoughts on what might come next (which you should totally ignore if it's not what you have in mind bcos again, your brain >>> my pea-sized brain):

Imma need Paige to suffer a lot bit LMAO, like sorry to her but girlie deserves to pay for freezing out princess FOR A YEAR.

Like I know that’s the love of your life Azzi babygirl, but you better make blondie work. beg. grovel.

I also feel like Azzi’s teammates wouldn’t be so accepting of Paige straight away? They’d be super protective of Azzi cos like that’s pookie, who wouldn’t be?? And they were the ones who witnessed just how much she was hurting during her freshman year and how often she waited for a call that never came, so yeah Paige really gonna have to prove herself 😌

Anyhooo, to sum it up, you outdid yourself and then some bestie. Your stories genuinely give me the best escape from reality and I cannot express how thankful I am for you taking the time and effort to write masterpieces like that for us.

Oh finally, the tagline for the story being "everything changes, except the ending" - pure genius, in my humble opinion.

Until next time 💗

-🙋‍♀️ (I’ve decided to fully stick to this as my signature)

Hi bestieeee, I'm so, so, so, glad you liked it. Like I wanted everyone to like it of course, but you especially, it's very important to me that you like it.

Bestie, you helped so much with how Azzi would reveal it/Paige's reaction, like so much of that is your brain work, I just put it into words and I'm glad it turned out how you imagined it.

Lmao I wanted Paige's initial reaction to be so random and I was like WAIT, how is she going to bring a dog named Stewie to UCLA (again more proof that it was always gonna be UConn for her).

Jealous Paige is my favorite version of Paige because it's a) really fun to write and b) really hot to imagine. And it's only going to get worse for her.

Nika needs to be team Paige because I fear Azzi's teammates are about to be menaces to her and not in a good way.

I was actually gonna end it with Azzi running out and then have none of the stuff outside but I think it was important for them to have that conversation and I wanted them to kiss teehee

My current (loose) summary for the next part in terms of plot is "Azzi goes on a date and Paige goes insane" so trust bestie, blondie will in fact suffer. 😈

Always so happy to see you babe, come back with more suggestions or just to ki-ki whenever. 💗💗💗

[cuckaracha]

Vampire AU angst? Pls?

I'll dust off my writing skills for this one cuz i kinda dont feel like drawing this.

News quickly flied around these parts. It was only natural given how small the town at the base of the Grim Cliff actually was. Young children played outside on a rainy day of winter while their mothers sat down to drink tea and read the good news on the local newspaper.

"The last remaining survivor of the vampire family living at the top of the Grim Cliff, House Markey, has perished."

It was a headline worthy of a festival. House Markey was no more. The vampires that had terrorized the old town had all been snuffed out one by one as they became of age. Yet rumors spread that a lonely silhouette still walked through the halls of the old mansion... And as it turned out. The rumors were true.

.

.

.

Levi Fontana, the tall and well built youngest spawn of a lineage of vampire hunters, was called upon by an enigmatic town to deal with a vampire that was rumored to haunt an old mansion at the top of a cliff. The payment was surprisingly handsome. Enough to make the young hunter's eyes burn with excitement. An easy job with a good reward? He'd be a fool not to take the opportunity.

And so, the evening of that same day, he stood in front of the mansion's porch. As he forced the door open, an exorbitant amount of dust danced through the air. It had been a while since anybody had the desire to step inside.... And step out.

"Show yourself, fiend! I don't have the need to spend more time here than I want to!"

Silence.

"... You are only prolonging the inevitable monster!"

No response.

Levi had already guessed that this was going to be an irksome job, but he marched on. He searched high and low for the beast, yet the search beared no fruits. Every corner of the place was covered in dust, rodents, and insects. This house really should've just been destroyed ages ago. At least, that was the hunter thought to himself before opening the last door. It was a neatly adorned door that he could've only assumed was the entrance to a closet. And when he opened the door...

There it was. The creature that he was paid to vanquish. What was supposed to be one of the most formidable beasts of the night... There it lied, a sobbing mess, pale as the moon. With red streaks that shone as lightly and reddish as an autumn leaf. The vampire was sitting against a corner, bawling its eyes out, staring at the now opened door in fear.

"P-PLEASE! LEAVE ME ALONE!! hic I.... I-I DONT WANT TO DIE!!"

It was... Shocking. To say the least. The last thing that could've crossed Levi's head during the whole ordeal had planted itself on his mind. This thing is not a monster... He has had experience with deceitful entities in the past... But the cries of this vampire... Felt genuine.

"..." Levi could only stare in silence at the sight before him. Waiting. For his thoughts to be proven false and for the bloodsucker to attack him. But he waited for naught. The vampire just stared back at him, eyes agape. Pleading for its life.

"... Sigh. What's your name." Asked the giant man.

"... You....Why are you asking that?"

"Just tell me." Levi insisted.

"... Ace... Ace of House Markey"

The towering man took a step inside the closet, walking towards Ace, who once again cowered, closing his eyes before what he thought was his demise.

And when he opened them back up, he saw the hunter, offering his hand to him with a gentle expression. One the vampire would've never believed he'd see in his poor isolated life.

"Don't worry... I am not a threat to you. My name is Levi Fontana. And I would love to know more about you."

.

.

.

When the housewifes finished their teas and the gossip had stoppes flowing through their mouths, the rain poured down harder than it had any other winter. Yet, before their broken panicked yells called out for their kids, they were already being guided. A tall, muscular man wearing a giant cape helped the kids get back to their mother's arms. The relieved women thanked the man as they noticed the caped person's blank, sad eyes piercing through his gentle facade. But before they could say anything, the man had already walked out, letting the rain drown out his figure.

The sad man wandered through the residing towns that winter. After he had met the most precious person to him. Getting to know him, care for him, pleasure him, understand him... Despite all the things he did for him behind the backs of the town that had paid him to vanquish his new love. He had forgotten a silent truth.

A Vampire and a Human can never be happy together.

[moderatelybiasedman]

200

WORD

BACKSTORY

Begin:

Roll

one

d100.

Find

that

number

on

this

page.

Note

down

that

word.

Re-roll,

add

to

the

previous

number

for

another

word.

Repeat

twenty

times

total.

Wrap

back

if

you

go

beyond

the

last

number.

This

list

forms

one

tenth

of

your

backstory.

Your

complete

tale

must

be

exactly

200

words

long.

Play

with

friends

or

solo.

Regardless,

generate

three

lists

minimum.

Intertwine

story

threads

between

characters.

Entangle

everyone.

Utilise

one

another's

key

words.

Alternatively

antonyms,

synonyms,

homonyms,

even

slant

rhymes.

Now,

deep,

emotional

concise

tales

of

history

are

ready

to

deploy

in

any

character

creation

system.

Extra

space:

Litigious.

Stoic.

Detective.

Angst.

Ennui.

Banana.

Unbearable.

Bear.

Friend

Fiend

Fend

Fen

Ontologically

Unusable.

Unusual

Usury.

Animate.

Untoward.

Magical.

Ancient

Playful

Sword

Mystic

Fast

Fastidious

Foretold

Forewarned

Long

Beautiful

Dream

Challenge

Fear

Deep

Edge

Range

Fashionista

Fly

Peace

War

Warren

Treat

Trick

Brat

Beat

Influence

Infect

Infest

Home

Away

Night

Day

Weapon

Tool

Toy

Impact

Effect

Affect

Defect

Twist

Turn

Swift

Swerve

Avoid

Evade

Escape

Return

Never

Always

Once

Twice

Thrice

Rare

Regular

Popular

Hermetic

Eccentric

Eclectic

Ball

Kid

Cat

Dog

Soft

Firm

Strong

Flexible

Memory

Cold.

Hot.

Warm

Cool.

Near

Far

Wherever

Live

Laugh

Love

End.

I mostly thought this would be a goofy challenge to try out. I'm pleased to say only a few words get repeated at all, and it's mostly obvious ones that I couldn't swap out without making the simple rules terrible obtuse.

I am happy for this to be archived off site. If possible attribute it to SuperBiasedGary because that's the name I mostly write under, and that's what my itch.io is. My tumblr name is just off brand.

Also if you make a backstory from this please post it, I wanna see!

200 Word RPGs 2024

Each November, some people try to write a novel. Others would prefer to do as little writing as possible. For those who wish to challenge their ability to not write, we offer this alternative: producing a complete, playable roleplaying game in two hundred words or fewer.

This is the submission thread for the 2024 event, running from November 1st, 2024 through November 30th, 2024. Submission guidelines can be found in this blog's pinned post, here.

[bellafragolina]

Snapshot

Because I’m an angst fiend that is never satisfied

Based on @peachsodama’s hivemind au and also her idea about the puppet being shot <3

WARNING: injury and blood

🍓🍓🍓

The pain ricochets through the network. Everywhere throughout the Gear Station, people crumble with shocked gasps and cries. It’s late, the subway is closed, so Emmet, writhing in his office, doesn’t understand this shock of pain. Was it a hernia? Appendicitis? Some other horrifying human illness preying upon his poor humans??

He frantically flits through the eyes of his passengers, seeing various parts of the station before he finds the source of the pain.

It’s you.

You, staring blankly down at your stomach. You’re slumped onto the floor, it’s dark, but Emmet can see the pool growing beneath you, blossoming through your uniform jacket like a field of poppies from that movie you like so much.

Sorry, boss. You think, sensing his presence. The view shifts. Emmet can feel your struggle to lift your head and look towards the ticket counter register. There’s a man, dressed in dark clothes, tearing the register apart. I’m sorry.

You slump down and the view goes dark.

Emmet is already hurdling a petrified Ingo, knocking the office door down in his race to get to where you are. He and the others claw at the door to your consciousness, begging you to open your eyes, to breathe slowly, Emmet’s coming.

The pain is growing. Emmet clutches his stomach, crying tears that aren’t all his. The rage that simmers and boils within him is his, though. And it bursts into a mighty blaze as he tears the employee door to the registers off its hinges.

The robber turns to face a hulking white beast, with sharp claws and five glowing silver eyes. He barely has time to scream before Emmet lunges, choking on his sobs and the stench of your blood thick in the air.

Emmet brings his hand down, just as a bang sounds through the air.

The others are screaming, the pain more intense now, but Emmet just crawls towards you. His own injury doesn't compare to yours, he was too close and knocked the bullet aside. It's grazed him, but you. . .

A whine tears from his throat, tears and blood dripping onto your little body. Emmet lies beside you, so much larger, and curls around you, desperate to protect you. He buries his face in your hair, muffling sobs, and waits for the sirens to get louder and louder.

Please, don't leave. He begs you. Don't go where I can't follow, my poor human. Please. I love you. Please stay.

He licks the tears from your cheek.

Please?

🍓🍓🍓

ta-da!

yeeeee i am sad

~Renee

[beels-burger-babe]

A Pain You'll Soon Regret - Pt. 2

Poly! MC Summary: MC and the demon lords get in a fight resulting in MC leaving. They planned on going to Purgatory Hall until things cool off, but they never quite make it there. Ft. Poly!MC

TW: Heavy Angst, Violence, I don't know what to tag this, but there is a pretty nasty verbal fight, Gore/Injury Vomit Part 1: HERE, Part 3: HERE, Part 4: HERE

Meanwhile at the House of Lamentation

Your leaving hadn't made the situation at the House any better. Asmodeus threw his hands up in the air and glared at the rest. "Great! Just wonderful! Now they've run off. Happy now?" venom filled his words, but he could feel his heart race in fear that he had just lost the one person who loved him for more than his looks. Satan scoffed, though he glanced at the door through the corner of his eyes. "Don't act like you're better than us. I didn't see you standing up for them." Levi growled and went straight to his room as Satan and Asmodeus began to argue. Beel took a step towards to door you had just marched out of and glance between it and his brothers. "Should we go after them? It's dark and they're drunk."

Lucifer lifted his chin as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Why should we? It's like they said, they don't want to depend on us anymore, fine. Let them see for themself how far they get without our protection," with those words, Lucifer turned on his heel and stormed to his office.

Beel sighed and looked at Belphie, "What do you think? We can go get them together?" Belphie stared at the door for a minute, a guilty look in his eyes, before he shook his head. "Give them space, Beel. They're probably heading for Purgatory Hall. Simeon and the others can take care of them for tonight. Right now we all just need to calm down before facing each other again," he patted his twin's shoulder before heading to their room; regret swirling in his stomach as he thought of how he betrayed you once more.

Mammon stood frozen staring at the door like he still hadn't made up his mind on what he wanted to do. His instincts screamed at him to get you back in his arms and keep you there. You were his human, reckless or not, and he had a duty to protect you both as your assigned protector and as your boyfriend. But for some reason, he couldn't seem to move his feet. His mind replayed the discussion in his head over and over again. He had once told MC that if they couldn't be saved by him, to make sure that they died. That he was the only one allowed to protect them. Tonight, as everyone was fighting, MC needed him to protect them, but instead, he pushed them towards the wolves. He let his greed get the best of him. "Fuck," Mammon cursed to himself as he shook himself out of his thoughts. He glanced over to see Beel restraining Satan from pouncing onto a sneering Asmodeus. He sighed and shook his head. They hadn't fought like this in a long time. You had always been there to put them into their place. Now look at them. Mammon groaned and ran a hand over his face. "Will you guys cut it out? MC is gone, okay? Ain't nothin' we can do about it now," to his surprise, his younger brothers actually stopped and seemed to be listening to him. Mammon huffed and began walking towards the stairs. "It's like Belphie said. We ain't in no place to make things better right now. Fightin' like this is what got us in this position, so quit it. Get some sleep. We'll figure it all in the mornin'." Beel, Satan and Asmodeus blinked at their older brother as he disappeared upstairs. Seeing Mammon mature and take control of the situation like that, was strange, but not unfamiliar. Asmodeus massaged his temples with one hand and fixed his hair with the other. "Ugh, all this fighting is going to be horrid for my skin," he glanced at the door one more time with a defeated look before heading towards his room. Satan clenched and unclenched his hands a couple of times, taking a few deep breaths, before silently nodding at Beel and walking away. All alone, Beel stepped towards the door. He opened it and looked out at the dark vast of the Devildom before him. With a heavy, guilty heart, he closed the door and pressed his forehead against it. He used one hand to lock the door for the evening, while the other pulled out his D.D.D. The others didn't want him going after you, but a message couldn't hurt, right? He opened your contact and wrote out his text, "Hey MC. I'm sorry for how things happened tonight. Things got out of hand, and I'm sorry for not doing anything to stop that. I know you and the others are upset right now, but I was hoping that tomorrow, once we're all calm, you could come back home and we could talk about it?" Beel sat by the door for half an hour waiting for a response, but none ever came. He frowned and glanced up at the locked door handle before shaking his head. "Maybe they left it on silent for a bit," he mumbled to himself before picking up his phone once more. "Text me when you get to Purgatory Hall. You don't need to say anything else. I just want to know you're safe." With that, Beel headed towards the gym. He wasn't tired. He wasn't hungry. He just wanted you home, but he couldn't have that. So in the meantime, he'd stay awake until he at least knew you were safe.

Only the morning came and went, and there was no word from you. The brothers were starting to get concerned. No matter what was said last night, they still loved you. You all needed to talk, yes, and things needed to be worked out, but that didn't change how they felt for you. They would never want to see you hurt. Lucifer had reached out to Simeon, while Asmodeus contacted Solomon and Beel texted Luke. Only Beel received a response. "Never contact me again. If you come anywhere near Purgatory Hall, I will not hesitate to smite you in an instant, you foul fiend?" Satan read out loud as he passed the phone back to a very confused and worried Beel. "What in the world did you do to him?" "Nothing. At least, I don't think," he thought about for a second. "I've stolen his baked goods on occasion, but besides complaining about as I did it, he never seemed to hold a grudge." Lucifer frowned deeply. "This is clearly about MC. Luke has taken to them as though they're his older sibling."

Levi scowled and pressed a few buttons on his game. "Sure they aren't dating him too?" he yelped as Asmodeus smacked him on the back of the head. "Stop it," Asmodeus growled. "I know you're the Avatar of Envy, Levi, but MC was open and honest with us. They told us that they loved us all and that they wanted a relationship with all of us. We all listened to what they offered and agreed. You agreed to this!"

Levi huffed and put down his game. "Because it was better than not having them at all!" he sighed and put an arm over his face. "I know that they love me, and them being with a-all of us doesn't change that, but it's so hard sometimes. I-I-I just-" "Want 'em to yourself?" Mammon provided. Levi blushed and nodded in response. Mammon shrugged and sat down beside him. "We all understand that Levi. This is somethin' new for all of us. When I see MC bein' sweet with you guys I get this urge to just rip 'em off ya and hold 'em tight in my arms where ya guys can never touch 'em again," he sighed and put a hand on Levi's shoulder, "but then I see MC smile at me the same way they smile at Beel or you or Lucifer. I know that when I'm holdin' them, they're thinkin' of me and they're there with me because they treasure our time together. It's hard sometimes, and it hurts to admit, but you guys make MC happy, and I can't take that away from them." He nudged his younger brother gently, "Neither can you." Everyone sat quietly as they thought of Mammon's words. "They always bring me snacks after my workouts," Beel said with a small smile. "They always seem to know when I'm hungry and would just whip out snacks out of nowhere." Satan leaned onto his knees from where he sat on his chair. "They ordered me their favourite books from the human world on Akuzon. They wanted to do a trade. I'd read their favourites and they'd read mine. That way we could learn a bit about each other just by reading something that the other loved and would understand one another a little better." Belphie tiredly rubbed his eyes and leaned against Beel. "They wake me up after all class and before any meals," he chuckled softly at the memory. "No matter how much I snarled or insulted them, they'd just put their hands on their hips and patiently wait for me to wake up so that I wouldn't miss any of my classes or any meals."

Asmodeus giggled and smiled brightly. "That alone proves how much of an angel they are. Your demon side really shows when you're woken up." The others laughed as Belphegor stuck his tongue out at Asmo. "They would always give me their opinion on my outfits. I know it seems impossible, but even I get torn between which outfit I should bless the public with sometimes. MC would always be the voice of reason to help me choose," his eyes softened, "Though they always said at the end that the most beautiful thing about me was my heart, something no one could see but radiated from the outside-in." Lucifer sighed, closing his eyes as he put aside his pride, and spoke. "They check on me in the middle of the night. I swear they have an alarm. They'll come into my office to see if I'm still awake. If I am, so long as the work isn't truly urgent, they'll poke my cheek and play with my hair until I give in and go to bed."

Everyone turned to Levi. The otaku's face was bright red as he avoided everyone's gaze. "Your turn, Levi," Mammon ordered. "Come on. I know that MC's super gentle with ya. Ya have to have somethin' to add." Leviathan pouted before mumbling. "They'll hold my hand when we're in crowds and in public because they know how anxious it makes me. If I start to freak out, they'll just gently squeeze my hand and pull me along until they can find a quiet space where I can calm down a bit," he groans and glares at Mammon. "What's your point?"

"His point," Satan began calmly, "is that MC loves us all equally. They take special care to do the little things to ensure that we all know that we are loved by them." Mammon nodded and pointed and Satan. "Exactly!" Lucifer hummed in thought. "Though this doesn't fix the problem of MC having no regard for their own safety." Everyone winced. There was no denying that. You admitted it yourself. You were reckless, and in a place like the Devildom, that kind of behaviour would get you killed one day. What would happen if you weren't with them one day? Just like you currently weren't. Memories of your storm out swirled in all of their heads, and concern pooled heavily in their stomachs. "Has anyone heard from them yet?" Belphie asked, looking uncharacteristically nervous. But then again, he was always protective of you as he never wanted you to get hurt again, especially since he had been responsible for so much of your pain in the past. Beel opened his mouth to respond when Asmodeus's D.D.D. went off. Everyone eagerly stood, as Asmo pulled out the device and answered it without checking. "MC? Are you alright?" "Put it on speaker!" Levi snapped, crowding as close to his brother as he could. Asmodeus nodded and quickly did as told. The voice that answered wasn't you, as they had all hoped, but rather Solomon. "I'm afraid they're not," the brother's felt their blood freeze at Solomon's words, as time seemed to stand still around them. Solomon's voice was cold and stern, showing his obvious anger at the demons. "I apologize for not contacting you all sooner, but I was spending every last second of my time and energy on trying to keep MC from dying of blood loss. That, and Luke is quite determined to keep the lot of you as far from MC as possible. If it was up to him I wouldn't even be calling you all right now. I, however, figured that you should at least be made aware of their condition." None of them heard a thing after the words "dying from blood loss" reached their ears. Lucifer took the D.D.D. from Asmo's shaking hands. "What happened? The last we saw them they-" "Presumably walked away from a fight with all of you and was trying to come to us. Yes. I'm aware. I read Beelzebub's texts on MC's phone," everyone glanced at Beel. His brows narrowed as he kept his eyes fixed on the D.D.D. "To answer your question, MC didn't make it to Purgatory Hall last night. They were jumped by a group of three demons who seemed to think that human would make a delectable midnight snack. What do you think, Beelzebub? Is that true? Is the taste of human flesh, really so delicious? I think I've heard you comment as much once or twice before you all began your relationship," Solomon spat the words accusingly. Fury danced on his tongue as though he was Wrath himself. Beel winced back and put a hand on his stomach as flipped inside of him. Belphie growled at the mention in his defence. "Stop dancing around the subject and get to the point. What happened? Are they okay?" The demons were surprised to hear a snarl come from the other end. "I already told you, they aren't. Luke had opened a window to air out some of the kitchens after he failed a new recipe he was trying out when he heard their screams. By the time we got there one of them had eaten half of their right leg, while was one biting along their shoulder, and the other was trying to choke them to death. Simeon and I were able to get the heathens off of them and incinerated them on the spot, but MC was already unconscious. While we were fighting the demons, Luke was just barely able to cast enough healing spells to stop the bleeding and stabilize them. Simeon and I have been working ever since on using every spell, charm, and potion that we know to keep them alive and somehow attempt to heal their injuries." At the mention of MC's leg have been mostly eaten, Beel turned and threw up on the ground. No one moved to comfort him, as they were too distracted by their own states of shock. "A-Are-" Mammon began to choke out before clearing his throat. "Are they

alive? Please tell me they're alive." The answer hung just out of their grasp. Waving dangerously above them like a deadly knife held up by a string. No matter what the response would be, all the brothers felt as though they may faint. "They're alive. Simeon had to use all his power to bring their blood count levels up to a healthy level, and their shoulder was dislocated, they most likely have a concussion going off of their head injury, not to mention their right leg was unsalvagable and had to be amputated, but yes. They are, at the very least, alive." Mammon joined Beel. Satan stood still, though he had changed into his demon form and the aura of pure wrath filled every cranny of the room. Asmodeus held a hand over his mouth as tears streamed steadily down his face. Leviathan had stumbled away from the group and was in the beginning stages of a panic attack. Belphie stared at the phone with a bewildered expression, his eyes pricked with tears, as though he couldn't believe the words coming from Solomon's mouth.

Lucifer was doing everything he could not to hurl the phone across the room.

Solomon continued. "Luke is currently watching them and making sure that they remain stable, while Simeon and I rest. As such, you will have no luck if you try to see them right now. I'll text you when I wake up and then you can come to see them," with that, Solomon hung up. Anxiety, grief, and remorse clung to each of the brothers like a new skin. Earlier they were arguing that all of them had your love, and because of that, all of them had nearly lost you. ***Duh duh duh!!! Part three to come. Part three will probably be the final part, but I don't know. Haven't quite figured out how this is going to end yet. Though a heads up, a may fill out another request before pt. 3 is up just to give me a break from the heavy angst. Thank you all so much for supporting me! And thank you to @millenniumofpain for the request!***

[princessmisery666]

Pleasure In Illusions

Summary: You try and work things out with Dean, but sometimes loving someone just isn’t enough.

Warnings: angst, smut, language, objectification of Sam Winchester’s junk, more angst, break-up, cheating mentioned, not a happy ending.

W/C: 1.8k

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity.)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester x reader.

Bingo: @anyfandomfluffbingo // @anyfandomangstbingo

Squares Filled: Fluff - coitus interruptus // Angst - Am I Psycho by Tech N9ne (lyrics used)

Notes: sequel to Stay but don’t need to have read it.

Betas: @cockslut-padalecki // all the mistakes belong to me!

Graphics: pics found on google. Title card by me. @firefly-graphics made the dividers.

Master Lists: Main // AF Fluff Bingo // AF Angst Bingo

Sam Winchester is BIG, in every sense of the word. You had always suspected, and you’d seen him in sweatpants, there was no way to not notice the outline of his impressive size, even when he was soft. But you’d never dared imagine the burn of him stretching you wide open would feel as incredibly criminal as it does. It should be a felony that Sam holds such power to make you feel weightless yet loaded with electrifying tension. You understand now how people become obsessed, this is how it starts. A small taste of all their talents and you’re hooked like a crack fiend; already thinking about your next fix when your current one is still coursing through your veins.

Sam’s not as cocky or forward as his brother but he certainly should be, he’s got the skills to back it up. His fingers work your clit in small circular motions, his palm putting pressure on your public bone and it’s exactly what you need, it’s the exact way you get yourself off and you wonder how he knows that. His thrusts are slow and meticulous, but when he’s close to bottoming out he snaps his hips and it takes your breath away every time.

“Sam,” you moan, “please don’t stop.”

“You like that?” He hits your cervix with a deep snap, and stills, looking down between your bodies. “Fuck, look at that,” he says and you follow his eyes to the small bulge in your stomach, he swirls his hips and the bump moves too. He meets your eyes, and the shy, almost bashful smile that smears his lips is adorably cute but mixed with his next words it’s obscenely hot, “you take all of me so good, sweetheart.”

Your cunt pulses, urging him to continue. The new discovery turns him into an insatiable fiend and he takes his time exploring all the ways he can manipulate the bulge of his cock in your stomach.

You’re right there, right on the cusp of your orgasm. It’s like a boulder rolling down a hill, moving fast and heavy, it’s building momentum and just when it’s ready to crash into you the bedroom door opens and Dean fills the space.

Sam doesn’t stop, too caught up in the moment to notice his brother's arrival. You watch Dean over Sam’s shoulder, a devilish smirk on your lips, and the pleasure of seeing the hurt in Dean’s eyes tips you over the edge.

You sneer, “hi, Dean,” biting down on Sam’s shoulder, and the release you crave is so close…

Dean’s face twists in fury and he yells your name, “Y/N.”

Your body spasms and you jolt awake, eyes adjusting to the early morning light seeping through the almost nonexistent motel curtains. Dean’s arm is draped across your stomach and his nose nuzzles against the back of your neck.

“Um, someone was having a nice dream,” he says and you feel his erection press into your ass. He kisses your neck, behind your ear and his hand slides up your stomach to grope your breast. He massages it a couple of times and you can feel his longing in the open-mouthed kisses against your skin. He tugs you over to lie flat on your back.

He kisses your lips once, pulls back to look in your eyes and asks in a hushed voice, “Is this okay?”

Hesitantly you nod, it should be okay, but it feels wrong. But maybe if you pretend, eventually it will be. He kisses you again, his dominant tongue leading yours, his groping hand moves lower and he reaches the waistband of your panties.

Dean’s hand cups your sex over the top of the fabric and by instinct your hips thrust up, seeking more. You feel the wetness of your arousal but you’re not sure if it’s Dean or the aftermath of your dream. He smiles against your mouth, “all this for me, sweetheart?” His hand grips harder before he slips his finger down the seam and spreads your folds.

“Stop,” you sigh. He does immediately and you wriggle from underneath him to stand up.

Dean blasts a frustrated breath out and rolls onto his back, he palms his rock solid cock through the thin sheets, readjusting it before throwing his arm over his face. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I thought you wanted to, you were squirming in your sleep and you said my name.”

“I wasn’t dreaming about… it doesn’t matter.” Admitting to dreaming about fucking his brother as a form of revenge would be cruel so you decide against it.

“Obviously not.”

“I’m sorry, Dean, I just… I’m not ready.”

“I get it.” He shrugs one shoulder but he still doesn’t look at you. “But it’s been weeks, I miss being with you, like that.”

“Do you?” You ask, unable to hide the anger you feel. “Do you get it? ‘Cause you seem kinda pissed.”

He removes his arm and sits up. He still doesn’t look at you, looking down at his hands but it’s written all over his face, he’s frustrated, maybe borderline angry.

“I am pissed,” he admits, “but pissed at myself for doing what I did. For making you so uncomfortable I have to ask if kissing you is okay.”

You feel bad for making him question where your limits lay but after all he was the one who cheated. He was the one who told you he loved you then freaked out and disappeared for three days, only to return with hickey’s and speeches about being fucked up if you left him.

“And I don’t want you to have to ask. But It’s hard to stop imagining you kissing and fucking someone else and it… hurts.”

His head drops to his chest and his eyes squeeze shut but he doesn’t speak.

“You asked me to stay and I did. I’m trying here, Dean,” you say, “I really am.”

He’s quick to scramble over the bed to stand in front of you, slipping a hand around your waist and one onto your cheek. “I know, I know and I’ll wait as long as it takes…”

The door opens cutting off the rest of his speech and Sam walks in, shirtless and sweaty from a run.

Sam reads the room and apologises, “Shit, sorry, I can come back.”

You shake your head, your eyes involuntarily dragging down his torso to the grey sweatpants he wears and you swallow thickly. “No. It’s fine, honestly,” you say before rushing off to the bathroom.

A few days later your bags are packed and you’ve loaded them in the car. You’ve said a tearful goodbye to Sam; he tried valiantly to convince you to stay and it broke your heart that his heart was breaking for his brother. If Dean pleaded as much, your resolve might falter. That’s why you’d packed your bags and loaded the car up while he was out on a supply run.

You wait in the garage for him; butt resting on the hood of your car. He must know what’s coming because once he shuts off Baby’s engine it takes him a long time to get out.

He finally does, pleading in his eyes as you approach. “Don’t do this.”

“I have to, for me.” You tell him, “I’ve tried, I really have. But the trust is gone and we can’t get it back.”

“Yes we can, it just takes time.”

You shake your head, “I’ve been dreaming about sleeping with Sam,” you admit and Dean’s fury burns into your eyes. “That’s not right, and you saw me last night, don’t pretend you didn’t.”

He looks away, chewing the inside of his cheek and you know he’s biting back anger.

“That guy at the bar,” you continue, “I saw you looking and all I could think about was kissing him to piss you off. I’m consumed with wanting to hurt you the way you hurt me, Dean.”

“So do it!” he interrupts loudly. “If getting even is what it takes, then do it, please. Just not with my brother.”

“Revenge isn’t going to solve anything! That’s not me.”

Silence takes over for a moment.

The emotions roll in waves, you’re practically vibrating with coiled tension; sadness that it’s over, relief that you’ve finally made a decision, guilt that you are breaking his heart and anger that he’d made the choices that led you here. You cry, tears running down your cheeks and dripping off your chin. “I thought I could survive the pain… but you broke me, Dean, and I really wanted you to fix me too. But you can’t, you choose to do something that we’re both paying the price for and I can’t pretend I’m not utterly devastated every time I look at you.”

“Please Y/N,” he begs, stepping forward, but you take a step back out of his reach. That breaks him and it’s almost as if his legs are about to give out but he stumbles back to rest against Baby’s hood.

“I wasn’t lying when I said that I love you, Dean,” you say, taking a step closer, a gentle hand cupping his cheek to make him look at you. “This isn’t easy for me. But I feel like I’m killing myself to love you. I’ve changed who I am, if anyone else had done what you did, I would’ve walked away and it’s a constant battle with myself to try and make this work. I’m angry and we fight, then I remind myself that I said I’d try and the next breath I feel guilty for lashing out at you. My mood swings have turned my dreams into gruesome scenes of revenge and I'm doin' things I don't normally do when illusions seem to be the only pleasure I can gain ‘cause the thought of you touching me, being intimate with you, scares me.”

He frowns, confusion tightening his brow. “Scares you?”

You nod, shame heating your cheeks. “What if you compare me to her, whoever she was? What if she was better? What if you're imagining being with her?”

“I’m not, I wouldn’t.”

“I know,” you soothe, thumb rubbing over his cheekbone and it’s hard to be the one comforting him when he’s the cause of the heartbreak.

“We don’t have to be together,” he bargains, “I just need you here, please.”

You shake your head, “I can’t be here, I’m sorry. I love you, but it isn’t enough.” You kiss his cheek, lingering for a moment, resolve wavering.

Dean moves to rest his cheek against yours. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I love you and I’m so goddamn sorry.”

He stands up so quickly you stumble back and he’s the one to walk away further into the bunker. You wait until the door closes behind him, and let out a long breath; sadly letting you walk away is the one thing he’s done that makes you think he really does love you.

Super Supernatural: @denimbex1986 / @avanatural / @deanwanddamons / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @flamencodiva / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @petitgateau911 / @waywardbaby / @xoxabs88xox / @cockslut-padalecki / @stoneyggirl2

Driving Baby, Whisky & Leather - Dean Winchester: @deanwinchesterswitch / @krazykelly / @deandreamernp / @akshi8278

So Get This - Sam Winchester (there was some Sam smutty goodness so I added you guys 🥰): @supernaturalgrandma / @samfreakingwinchester

[silversatoru]

Hi, I just finished burdens and OML 🥺🥺🥺

May I request some sort of megumi x reader continuous where the reader ends up becoming a powerful sorcerer (or a cursed spirit👀 whichever you’d like tbh) megumi and the reader somehow cross paths again a little while after the break up and he witnesses her fighting for the first time? I just know that boy would fall in love all over again but she’s moved on and he feels guilty and just angst? And maybe fluff idk. I’m new to requests so I hope I did this right, thank you so much❤️❤️

burdens pt. 2

a/n: hello, part two of this not-so-lovely story is finally here. every single one of you is allowed one free punch to my face for taking so long to write it,,, i’m so sorry. this is its fourth rewrite and it got a little darker than expected but it’s finally done,, i hope you enjoy <3

fushiguro megumi x f!reader

synopsis: you finally see megumi again at the kyoto sister school goodwill event

tags/warnings: angst, some graphic depictions of violence, character death

word count: 3k

“Do you know how tired I am of watching the people I love die? Things would be so much easier for me if you just stayed the fuck away”.

Megumi’s bitter words were on repeat in your head — the harshness of his voice leaving a hollow feeling carved into your chest. Tear-stained cheeks and shaky breathes had become your new normal these past few days. Tight, sharp pains filled your empty stomach, waves of nausea coursing through your body.

You’ve had no motivation to get out of bed lately, nevermind to shower or cook yourself a proper meal — honestly, for all you cared you could rot away in your blanket filled bed. You checked your phone like a fiend too, thinking that eventually, a miraculous text from Megumi would appear and make everything better. It never did.

He’d completely ghosted you since that dreadful day, and that hurt more than anything. You’d held onto a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't meant what he said. But as the days continued to pass, your hope quickly dwindled.

To say your current state was shameful was putting it lightly, and you were embarrassed at how poorly this was effecting you. You liked to think that you were strong, motivated, independent — that you didn't need some douchebag just to feel happy. But truth be told, breakups are fucking hard, and it's okay to not be okay for a while — or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

So when you were trudging miserably down the street to your local convenience store and you saw a familiar pair of jujutsu sorcerers, you wanted desperately to sink into the ground. You made a quick turn to head to a different shop, but it was too late, you were spotted.

“y/n! hey!” Two lighthearted voices sang through the air, filling your ears and making your heart clench in your chest.

You turned around and anxiously approached them, your unkempt hair and baggy eyes sending looks of concern across their faces.

“Hey girl, you good?” Nobara shot you a sideways glance, Maki raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Yeah, uh, ice cream,” You croaked, speaking for the first time in a couple days, “I’m here for ice cream, that’s all”.

“Yeah, but why do you look like a fucking zombie?” Maki pushed her eyeglasses further up her nose, her sharp eyes looking you up and down.

“Ah, he didn’t say anything to you guys, did he?” You shook your head, heavy eyes falling to ground as you refused to meet theirs.

“Don’t tell me…” Nobara’s face contorted, “Did he break up with you?”

You nodded, a pitiful chuckle falling from your lips, because if you didn’t laugh, you’d start sobbing right now.

Maki threw her arm around your shoulder, pulling you to her side and ushering you into the store, “It’s okay, men suck. Hang out with us today”.

Meanwhile, Nobara trailed quickly behind the two of you, anger seething from her teeth and steam practically billowing out of her ears.

“That fuckhead! I swear I’ll fuck his shit up big time, he won’t even know what fucking hit him. I knew that boy was stupid but shit, this is a whole new low for him! I-,” She continued to ramble and rant as Maki led you through the store, picking out drinks and snacks to help ease your pain.

The three of you ended up in a nearby park, sitting around a small picnic table and gorging on the massive array of snacks. Lighthearted conversation and lots of food make your chest ache a little less, and you even found yourself laughing and chatting as if things were normal. You’d told the two of them all about that day, about Megumi’s irrational words and his tragic breakdown that led to some kind of fucked-up break up sex.

“So, how are we gonna get back at him? Egg his car? Put bleach in his shampoo? Bugs in his food? God - it’s a shame his dad is dead because from the pictures I’ve seen that man was FINE and revenge sex—,”

“Nobara,” Maki shot her idiot girlfriend a dirty look, and the orange-haired girl quickly shut her mouth, “As much as I support any idea that revolves around ruining a man’s day, I don’t think revenge is the healthiest coping strategy here”.

You were tracing your eyes around Maki’s face as she spoke, and you found yourself carefully inspecting her purple glasses that rested softly on the bridge of her nose. And that’s when it clicked, the light bulb ignited in your head and you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

“Maki,” your voice was urgent, “You don’t have cursed energy, you can’t even see them without your glasses!”

Her face twisted and her nose scrunched, a look of distaste in her eyes, “I know?”

“So, you could teach me, right? You could help me learn how to use some cursed weapons?”

“Yeah! You have to Maki, then she can beat his ass with me,” Nobara chimed in.

“That’s not a bad idea actually,” Maki’s mouth formed an evil grin, “Could you imagine his face after watching you exorcise a curse?”

The three of your conversed for a bit longer, speculating and potting about training, weapons, and your very own pair of curse-seeing glasses. By the end of the night you had a plan, and a pretty good one if you say so yourself.

From that day on, teary eyes and achy hearts were a thing of the past, not because it was that easy to get over Megumi, but because Maki didn’t even allow you the time to feel dismal anymore. You met her everyday after classes without fail, and everyday she would train you until you thought your arms would fall off. After months and months of sore muscles, sweat, and the occasional injury, you were convinced that Maki was incapable of feeling pity or remorse for other living things. Every time you speculated about quitting, she’d set a fire under you, unafraid to remind you how weak you still were.

The green-haired sorcerer had ultimately decided that you worked best dual-armed -- a long, lightweight blade in each hand. On your final day of training, she officially gifted the two swords to you, as a “graduation” gift.

Skill-wise, you were by no means as incredible Maki, but you definitely held your own, and the progress you’d made in a mere 8 months was astronomical. They’d introduced you to a strange silver-haired man at some point, Gojo, who had taken not only an interest in you but also your plot against your ex-boyfriend. He cackled to himself when you told him why you were here, going on and on about how priceless Megumi’s face would be when he saw you.

Your appearance was highly anticipated, so why not debut at one of the biggest jujutsu events all year? The Kyoto Sister School Goodwill Event — Gojo thought it was the most perfect idea.

You tried hard to exude confidence as you walked at Nobara and Maki’s sides, but behind your arrogant facade your stomach was twisting itself into knots. Truthfully, you were scared to see Megumi again after so long.

And when your eyes met with his as you walked into the meeting room, you thought you just might pass out. You thought you were ready for this — but the look of complete shock, fear, and anger on his face as he looked you up and down almost made you regret all of it.

“What’s going on?” Megumi’s words were incredibly calculated, an edge on his voice.

His question was pointless, however, because judging by the fact that you were wearing a jujutsu tech uniform and had two swords sheathed at your sides could only mean one thing. Your hair was longer now too, and your frame was wider with an extra layer of muscle from all the training — you almost looked like a different person.

“I’ve been training with Maki, I-,” You spoke up to explain yourself, but you weren’t even granted the opportunity.

“No, no, Maki, what the hell did you do?” His eyes were shaky and laced with concern.

“I only did what she asked me to. I’m not the one who gave her a complex about being weak, you did that,” Maki shrugged, “and she’s not your girlfriend anymore dude, what do you care?”

Absolute confliction flashed through his eyes, uncertainty and madness swirling in his irises, “You’re right, I don’t care. Let me know when the event is starting”.

He took a sharp turn out of the room and let the door slam a little too hard behind him. The sound of his icey voice and the door shutting with unkind force was all too reminiscent of the night you broke up. Burying every emotion you had deep into your stomach you gave Maki a small, reassuring smile and plopped down on one of the couches.

“Alright, so when does this thing start?”

after the start of the event

Fighting the Kyoto students was proving to be much harder than you initially expected, but you were holding your own at Maki’s side. The two of you had easily taken down a small, kind, blue haired girl named Miwa, and now you were watching an emotional battle between Maki and her sister unfold.

Wait here, she’d told you, I want to do this one myself. Take some notes on my form and watch our backs, okay?

Okay, you’d said, a little confused but ultimately finding a nice spot up in a thick tree to carefully observe from. Maki was truly a force of nature, and it seemed like the other girl never actually had a chance of winning. It was honestly only a few minutes before the small black, haired girl was slumped against a tree and Maki was making her way back to you. Things were looking good, two of Kyoto’s student’s were down already and adrenaline was pumping through your veins.

You couldn't quite shake the awful feeling churning in your stomach though, and Megumi’s face was haunting your thoughts. You hadn’t seen him since before the event started, when an odd, pink haired boy jumped out of a box and freaked everyone out. Nobara had later explained who he was and what had happened, and you wondered how many awful surprises Gojo had planned today -- first you, then that.

A small rumble rippled under your feet, and Maki grabbed your arm as you watched a giant brown vine lurch it’s way out of the ground a few hundred yards in the distance.

“That technique doesn’t belong to anyone from Kyoto,” She shot you a look of concern and determination, “let’s go check it out”.

You gave her a firm nod, the two of you making your way towards the horrifying wooden vines. By the time you managed to arrive, Inumaki was already down and so was a dark-haired boy from Kyoto. A muscular, white curse with black markings and wooden branches for eyes was moments away from taking Megumi on all by himself — thank god you got here in time to help.

Megumi, however, was horrified when he saw you jump over the tall roofed building with Maki at your side. He’d just watched two incredible sorcerers get their shit rocked by this curse, there was no way you would stand a chance against this thing. But before he could even try to stop you, you and the green-haired sorcerer were flying through the air and taking shots at the curse. The two of you worked perfectly in sync, the months of daily training finally paying off.

He watched with intent glazed over his eyes, his heart threatening to lurch up his throat. You were a spectacle, and he always thought you were beautiful but seeing you now with dirt and blood stained clothes, cursed weapons gripped firmly in your hands, you truly were ethereal. He hated it though, he hated that he was falling in love with you all over again, especially under these circumstances. Guilt and anxiety was eating away at him — why did you have to get involved? Why couldn’t you have just stayed away like he told you to?

He was quick to join the two of you, sticking close to your side to protect you if need be — but, even with all three of you together the curse still had the upper hand. Maki had been swatted to the side, her back slamming hard against one of the tiled roofs and knocking her unconscious. It was down to just the two of you now, beads of sweat causing your hair to uncomfortably stick to the back of your neck. This was something that Maki’s training could have never prepared you for.

Megumi was getting tired, taking one wrong step and losing his footing momentarily. The curse saw this as a perfect window of opportunity, sending a spiral of vines and branches hurling for Megumi. It was fast, but the adrenaline coursing through you helped you to move faster, launching yourself through the air and intercepting the attack. The barky, wooden vines twisted violently through your stomach, shooting clean through your back and ripping a violent scream from your throat.

It hurt so bad, feeling the plant wriggle through your organs and tear you apart from the inside out. The curse retracted his vine a few moments later, leaving your mangled body to fall helplessly to the roof. Tears rippled from your eyes, your body shaking and seizing as you coughed up a few sprays of blood.

A long, strong pair of arms scooped you up instantaneously, and your head was resting against a firm chest — probably Megumi, but you didn’t quite have the energy to open your eyes to check.

“We’ll take it from here, get her to Ieiri!” You heard a pair of deep voices yelling to Megumi, but it was too foggy and far away for you to understand what they were saying.

Megumi was seething with anger, moving as fast as his feet could carry him and he ran through the school. As you waved in and out of consciousness, you batted open your eyes, stealing quick glances at his twisted features and — were those tears on his face?

“I- I’m sorry Megumi… I think I finally understand what you were so afraid of all this time,” Your voice was barely a croak, “when I saw it coming, I couldn’t stomach the thought of having to watch you die. I suddenly just thought I would do anything to keep you safe”.

Yeah, those were definitely tears, you could see them a little clearer now. His eyes were red and his cheeks were dried with salty streaks.

“You’re so thick-headed,” he mumbled, his grip around you tightening slightly as he picked up his pace, “I wish you would have made that realization before there was a giant hole in your stomach”.

“Me too,” You hummed, but you weren’t really in any pain anymore. The pain had subdued to a sweet warm sensation inside your stomach, and an intoxicating sleepiness was washing over your head, “I was angry for a long time, but I’m not mad at you anymore, Gumi. I hope you can forgive me too”.

You offered him a tiny smile, but the blood leaking from between you keeps made it anything but sweet.

“There’s nothing to forgive you for, you never did anything wrong,” He spoke quickly, his voice quiet and cracking.

“No, but we’re not gonna make it to Ieiri, I know that and so do you,” You fell into a violent fit of coughs again, sputtering red splatters all over the front of his uniform.

“Shut up”.

“It’s not your fault, none of it was ever your fault,” you choked out once the fit of coughs subsided — and you weren’t just talking about yourself, you were talking about all of the unfortunate tragedies he’d witnessed throughout this life.

“And you’re allowed to be selfish sometimes, you know? I hope that when you meet someone, your soulmate even, you can allow yourself to love them with every part of you”.

The words painfully left your lips, but you meant every single one of them. You were starting to realize that you and Megumi were never meant to make it to the end. You weren’t his soulmate, you were here to help him grow, so that when he did finally meet them he’d be ready.

“You deserve to be loved, Megumi,” You looked up at him with big eyes, but his face was starting to get really fuzzy now.

Your fingers were going numb and your mouth felt like it was filled with sand. You were so tired, letting your eyes flutter shut and your head rest softly against Megumi’s chest. You felt him stop running, you could even hear him screaming at you — but it was too far away for you to hear. You drifted closer and closer to eternal sleep, your soul swollen with love for the boy who broke your heart.

Megumi didn’t even feel sad when you stopped breathing in his arms — he just felt hollow. More empty and broken than he’d ever thought possible. You were the most incredible person he’d ever met — someone with extreme motivation, who acted with no fear or hesitation, who always had love to give, even when he didn’t deserve it. He’d never forget you, not for as long as he’d live anyway.

Even when he did meet a new girl a few years later — a compassionate, brave girl, who reminded him a lot of you — he wouldn’t forget. He wouldn’t forget your words and for the first time in his life he’d let his walls down for her. He’d allow himself to truly love, and be loved in return.

And maybe you were right, maybe he did deserve to be loved like this, because god, he finally feels whole again when she’s around. He just wishes you were still here so he could say thank you.

[andsheloved]

keep your head down.

pairing ~ dark!loki x f!reader, loki x f!reader

summary ~ an ancient asgardian ritual has you seeing double and there is nothing you can do to stop it. all you can do now, is keep your head down.

word count ~ 4.3k

warnings ~ heavy angst, horror elements, chasing, bad norwegian, implied mind reading, the tiniest reference to polytheism, reader breaks through a window, mild description of blood and injury, slight suicidal ideation, implied major character death

a/n ~ happy halloween everyone! (or happy whenever your reading this!) i was planning on doing a spoOooOoky story to get into the spooky mood, but i very much did not think it would be for loki?? but also, when is anything not for loki over here. this is kind of my first time writing any type of horror/thriller thing so feel free to let me know what you think! i don't think these types of stories will become a full time thing for me (as you may have noticed, i am an absolute fiend when it comes to fluff) but i wanted to join in on some halloween fun! i hope you all enjoy! so get a blanket, maybe a hot chocolate, and turn all your lights off, cus things are about to get very spooky!

This was not your Loki, that much you knew.

Your Loki was warm and kind, always having a slight glimmer in his eye when he spoke. Your Loki loved you.

This was not your Loki.

"Hiding from me, are we?... Dove"

The utterance of his pet name for you had you almost pausing in your tracks, almost.

You had to keep moving. You didn't know why, though the little voice that whispered in the corner of your mind continued to berate you. You had to keep moving.

And you had no intention of finding out what would happen if you didn't.

You recalled the time when your Loki had told you about this, or more specifically, the possibility of this happening.

Förlater. The Leaving.

He explained it to you, his eyes never meeting your own as he did.

“I remember when I had first witnessed it myself, my fa- Odin, had told Thor and I, that it had been a tradition, a ritual, for centuries. That it was simply a part of our lives, as it had been a part of the lives of so many before us, and would continue to be long after we’re gone.”

You held his hand as he spoke, you didn’t think you had ever seen him like this. Of course he had spoken to you about his family and his past before, but when you looked into his eyes, you almost didn’t recognize him. It looked as if he were staring straight through you, gazing at a point in the wall that seemed a thousand miles away. He was scared, no, haunted. His eyes were glassy, it seemed that if he were to even blink, the tears threatening to spill onto his cheeks would never cease.

“It’s supposed to act as a sort of… cleanse, every millennium or so. Our two selves separate, The Leaving. There’s us, and then the manifestation of our-” He swallowed, taking a deep breath to steady himself before continuing. “Our hate, our anger, our venom, pain, it leaves us, manifesting itself into a physical form… It dissipates after a while, though, some lock themselves in their chambers, some try to sleep through it so they don’t have to see.. it. But Odin, he didn’t care”

You could see the discomfort in his eyes, though there was something else hidden deep beneath it, anger. A seething, growing outrage that bloomed more and more with every word he spoke about the instance.

“It was free. And he just slept in his room with our mother” he almost spat, “and let it wreak whatever havoc it wanted to around the palace. He had the luxury of never having to see what it could do, what it did do. But Thor and I-” He shook his head, as if trying to shake the memory out all together, “We were there, we saw… I just- I want you to be safe. I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t. I don’t know how I could live with myself if I did. Please” He begged, “Don’t let me hurt you.”

Now here he was, or rather, here was some demented version of him, chasing you through the very castle he had promised you’d be safe in.

When you awoke earlier that night, the balcony doors were opened, causing you to pull the blanket tighter around you as the chilled breeze rushed around the room. You grumbled his name softly, drawing out every syllable as you stretched. When you found the other side of the bed empty, you figured that he had maybe stepped out onto the balcony for some air, begrudgingly tearing yourself from the warmth of the bed to search for him. He rarely slept anyway, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to venture out of your shared bed in the middle of the night, but you knew tonight would be especially hard for him.

“Loki?” You called, wrapping yourself in a thin blanket as you stepped into the chilled night air. The curtains billowed behind you as a biting wind blew through, a chill running through you as it did. You knew Loki could withstand the mildly-freezing temperatures, but you just didn’t want him to be alone, not tonight.

You huffed, turning back into the bedroom, your heart rate began to speed up as you wondered where he could possibly be.

“Do not, under any circumstances, leave this room.” He had said to you, his tone was stern, but his eyes were so deeply laced with concern and pleading.

You knew it was a bad idea. That as long as you remained behind the locked door of the bedroom, you would be safe, nothing would happen to you.

But where was he?

Your heart ached as the thoughts came flooding in, was he just wandering around the palace? Alone? From what he had told you, simply being outside was a danger while this thing was about. Or could it have gotten to him already? You screwed your eyes shut, trying to push the thought from your mind. Had it lured him out of the bedroom? Had it threatened you? Had he just been trying to protect you? Was he-

No. You refused to let yourself spiral before you even knew where he was. You had to stay focused, if you were going to venture out from behind that door, you needed to stay calm, you needed to be prepared.

The silky fabric that was wrapped around you fell to the floor as you reached out in front of you. The door was surprisingly quiet for how large it was, the golden hinges barely making a sound as you slowly opened it. You felt another shiver creep up your spine, realizing just how easily it could have been for someone to sneak in and out of your room and take whatever, or whoever they wanted.

You slowly closed the door behind you, being careful to shut it just as quietly as-

Click

No. It couldn’t have.

You pulled on the large golden handle with both hands, shaking it, no, no, no, no.

If you weren’t scared before. Now, you were terrified.

Loki hadn’t given you any keys to your room, nor any of the other rooms in the palace. Why would he? He didn’t expect you to even leave your bed, so why would you need them?

You closed your eyes as you took a deep breath. You had no idea what this thing was capable of, in truth, you really had no idea what this thing even was, for all you knew, you could have nothing to worry about, it could just be wandering around the golden hallways, smashing vases and ripping up flowers, only to fade away into thin air by morning.

But you knew Loki had a dark side to him, you had always known that, but he had gotten so much better the past few years, whatever anger and hostility that he had held within him couldn’t be as bad as it was all those years ago, surely not.

“Darling?”

You almost felt dizzy from the speed at which you spun your head to find him.

“Loki…” You sighed, practically running over to him, your bare feet barely making a sound on the marble floors.

You threw your arms around him, melting into his touch.

“I’m so sorry” You managed to sputter against his chest, tears beginning to fall. “I just- I didn’t know where you were, and I went out to go look for you and-”

“Shh, you’re alright, it’s okay” He cooed, tracing nonsensical patterns onto your back as he comforted you.

“You’re… Not mad?” Your brows furrowed, he had been so insistent on you staying put, continuously pleading with you to stay behind that door for the night, and you had done the exact opposite, how could he be so calm with you right now?

“No my love, actually, quite the opposite…”

You tilted your head slightly, his tone was not dis-similar to the one he often used during his usual moments of mischief, but there was something else laced within his voice that felt… wrong. It had your stomach turning in a way that probably should have alarmed you, but you managed to push the thought aside for a moment when Loki’s hands shifted to hold your own. You’re probably still just a little shaken from before, it’s nothing to worry about.

“I’m glad you’re here” He smiled, and you felt your heart grow warm, despite the growing feeling of utter confusion in the back of your consciousness. “I’d actually like to show you something”

“But you said-”

“Forget what I said.” His voice was much deeper now, almost growling out his words. His features grew cold, similar to how he looked when he had first told you about tonight, but somehow less sad. Now, he just looked furious.

“Loki, I’m sorry, I know-”

“Stop that.” He snapped, and just as suddenly, his hand was gently brushing over your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, as if nothing had happened. “I said, I’m glad you’re here. Don’t apologize, my sweet.”

Something about the way he said it, my sweet. It almost seemed forced, like merely just saying the words pained him.

“Now, I’d really love to show you something…” He fully grasped your hand now with a frighteningly strong grip, slowly leading you… somewhere.

The palace was dark. The shimmering hallways you had been enchanted with during the day now looked grim, with nothing but the dim glow of the few torches that lined the walls to illuminate your path and cast perverted shadows across the castle’s flooring. The hallway looked as if it stretched on forever, and you wondered for how much longer he would be silent on your journey, hoping he would break the silence, too scared yourself to say anything after his outburst.

A small door began to finally come into view and you felt yourself let out a small sigh of relief at the thought of your walk nearly coming to an end. You turned to look at Loki, and you suddenly wished you hadn’t.

He chuckled, almost like he knew what you were thinking, the beginnings of a smirk began to pull at his lips. What were you even thinking? Of course this was Loki, you had no reason to be so worried.

“That’s right,” He uttered, his tone mocking, barely above a whisper. Maybe if the hallway wasn’t so silent you wouldn’t have heard him. But you did.

The feeling of alleviation you had first felt at the sight of the door quickly turned to dread. Only now you began to realize that you still had no idea where he was taking you, and just as quickly, you realized you did not need to find out.

All at once, every small voice in your mind, every pacing thought, seemed to meld into one chorus, all now screaming in unison, ‘RUN.’

So you did.

You could hear his irritated growl echo through the never ending corridor as you ripped yourself from his hold, though you couldn’t tell if he had said anything else after that, the beating of your own thundering heartbeat sounding in your ears.

Another terrifying realization hit you even harder than the last as you finally reached the end of the corridor, you didn’t know this place.

Loki had given you a quick tour of some of the larger rooms when he had first brought you to the palace a day ago, and maybe you would be able to navigate your way to the throne room given how big and grand it was, but other than that, you truly had no clue where you were.

You silently cursed yourself for not paying more attention to where you were going when Loki- when that thing started leading you through the palace.

He called your name, almost singing it, and you wanted so badly to stop and turn to him. To run into his arms just as you did before, but you knew you couldn’t, it wasn’t him, as much as it looked and felt like the man you loved, it wasn’t him.

You had to keep moving. You decided that it really didn’t matter where you were going, you just had to keep turning and hope that your unpredictability would throw him off your trail. Yet every time you believed you had finally lost him, you would look to find him, sauntering slowly behind you.

“Oh… Pet, it’s so late, wouldn’t you rather be resting?” He teased. His voice surrounded you, bouncing off of every surface. The words that would normally feel so warm and affectionate suddenly felt so cold. You understood that his idea of rest was most likely very different from your own.

You knew he could easily use his magic to project some sort of barrier to stop you from running, or even trip you, why wasn’t he? You turned quickly to look behind you, pausing as you tried to find another corridor. He was practically meandering through the castle while you could barely catch your breath, yet he was always behind you. This was never a chase for him, it was a game, he was just playing with his food at this point, with his prey, and as much as it hurt you to admit it, you almost wanted him to catch you.

This was a nightmare, and you knew it wouldn’t end with you going back to your room, that door closed, both literally and figuratively, the moment you decided to leave the safety of your bed to find Loki. Where was he?

All of a sudden, you found yourself attempting to muffle the scream that escaped your lips with your hand as another dark figure pulled you into a shadowed alcove.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you did your best in regulating your breathing. This was it. Your final seconds. You let out a quiet sob at the thought, you just wished you could have seen him, the real one, a final time.

“Are you hurt?” You heard a familiar voice question.

As your eyes adjusted to the almost pitch-black darkness, you scanned his face, his eyes were frantic and wild and not half as cold as the Loki that had been following you all this time. His pale skin was stained with tears, and as you felt his hands blindly reach for your own, he was shaking, no, trembling.

“Loki?” You asked quietly, still doing your best not to alert your pursuer of your position.

He let out a shaky breath, but before he could respond to you, you found yourself pressing your cold lips to his, weaving your hands through the hair at the base of his neck, pulling him closer as you did. You still didn’t know if this was your Loki, and in the moment it didn’t seem to matter. You didn’t care if these were your last moments, if you were going to die tonight, if you were going to die only seconds after you kissed him, it wouldn’t matter, you would at least have felt the warmth of his lips one last time.

Though, when he pulled you closer to him, grabbing you by your waist with a force that threatened to leave bruises, you knew.

“Loki.” You sighed breathlessly as he pulled away, a sad smile on your face as he did.

“Did he hurt you?” His change in pace almost making you jump with the juxtaposition from the unhurried passion you had just shared, hands wildly searching your body for any sign of injury.

“No, no he didn’t” You whispered

“I told you not to leave” He looked up at you, tears streaming down his face once again. Though he didn’t seem mad, just concerned, desperate, almost guilty.

“I know, I’m so sorry-” You began to cry, doing your best to stifle your sniffles from being too loud.

“No I’m sorry” He began to place soft kisses all over your face, like he was trying to memorize every inch of your skin as if it were the last time he would ever feel you. “I should never have brought you here, I shouldn’t have been so selfish”

“Loki, I wanted to be here for you.” You felt your own heart rate slow, like simply being in his presence, no matter the circumstance, calmed you.

You wondered how long it would be until the other one found you two, he was only a few feet behind you when you had been pulled into this nook, he had to have seen where you went.

“I love you. I love you.” He repeated, placing his hand on your cheek. “I will always love you. No matter what happens-”

“Loki-”

“You have to leave this place.”

Just as you were about to fight back, to protest with all you could, to argue that you could leave together, he continued.

“I can’t leave until this is done.”

It wasn’t until just then you noticed the glinting metal tucked in his waistband, didn’t he say that thing would just disappear on its own?

“Something’s gone wrong, my love.”

Yeah. That much you figured.

“Loki, I won’t leave without you” You insisted, your tone growing more frantic.

“You must. Please. I can’t-” He looked away from you for a moment, like he was gathering the courage to finish his sentence “I can’t lose you.”

“I love you.” You whispered, there was no use hiding the shake in your voice. You had no idea if this would be the last time you would ever see him again, at least this version of him. You couldn’t tell if you were thankful or resentful as you looked back at the beginning of your night, leaving your chambers in search of the man you loved. Only the Gods knew if you would have ever seen each other again if you hadn't had snuck out.

You squeezed his hand, pressing your forehead against his, barely able to see his face as you let your tears flow freely now.

“We’ll meet again.” He said, his voice heart-wrenchingly broken, “I promise.”

You refused to acknowledge that as goodbye, so you simply nodded, closing your eyes as you finally left him. Holding onto his hand as long as you possibly could before speeding up again. You couldn’t bear to turn around and see his form fade into the darkness behind you, bleeding into obscurity with the twisted shadows cast from the branches of the trees just beyond the windows.

Windows.

You had no idea where you were. You didn’t have any idea where any other door was, with exception from the one you were led to before, though you had a feeling that it was not an exit. This could be your only chance, as unfortunate as this chance was, you had to take it.

Breathe, You thought to yourself as you turned abruptly, starting in the opposite direction. Just breathe. You clumsily wiped the remains of the tears from your eyes, doing your best to only look forward, no matter how tempted you were to look to your side.

You could hear him, them, exchanging fighting grunts and growls. He told you to leave. You were not going to go against him again, not after what happened after the first time.

You braced yourself, folding your arms to cover your face

‘I love you’

And you jumped, throwing yourself through the glass. It was surprisingly thin for what you had suspected a palace window to be, but the pain was nothing less than expected.

You groaned as you rolled into the grass, hissing when you turned your arms to steady yourself on the ground, thin scratches already beginning to raise and leak thin traces of red. It wasn’t much of a fall, seeing as you were on the ground floor of the palace, but the tumble you took as you unceremoniously surged through the glass pane began to exhibit its damage on you all the same.

Keep moving. Doing your best to mute the cry that threatened to break the already quite shattered peace of the night, you found yourself sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you began to stand. Great. A twisted ankle was just what you needed right now. That didn’t matter now though, you were out, that’s what mattered, as long as you kept moving, no matter the pace, you’d be safe. Right?

So you began to walk- limp, as best you could through the gardens. At a different time, maybe you would have stopped and admired the care that had been taken while trimming and maintaining each flower and bush, maybe you would have sat on the small stone bench and discussed your future with the man you loved.

Maybe you wouldn’t be in this nightmare at all if you just hadn't left your room.

Maybe that imposter would have found you regardless of if you had stayed within the confines of your room. Slaughtering you in your sleep, only to have Loki awake to your lifeless body in the morning, a bloody reminder of the darkness that would always possess him.

Or maybe things would be different.

Maybe.

That was all behind you now though. You turned, giving a final look at the shadowed back side of the once grand palace which had now so quickly become a hell for you.

“LOKI!” You cried, picking up your pace as much as you could, you couldn’t even seem to bring yourself to care enough to give a second thought as to how you may be drawing attention to yourself. The layout of the gardens began to feel even more puzzling than the relentless aisles of the palace, the blazing illumination brought by the occasional flash of lightning now acting as your only guidance through the maze of green. You found yourself almost whimpering his name, repeating it like a prayer as you continued to turn, left - right - left - left - right. You weren’t sure when your eyes began to flutter shut, but they did, and even so, you continued, the monotonous twists of the labyrinth beginning to come to you like a second nature.

If you never opened your eyes again after these moments, that would be fine by you. But if you did, you hoped it would be when you awakened from this abominable dream.

Suddenly, you were dropping to the ground with a soft ‘oomf’. Unsure if it was from pain or exhaustion, you just couldn't bring yourself to continue anymore. Not when you looked beyond, only to face a night so dark, you could barely imagine seeing the light again.

What was even the point of standing, if it wasn’t him you were doing it for.

You slammed your fists against the grass, raising and hurling your hands back into the ground in anger, using the only fight and energy you had left to curse into the skies. The roar of thunder resounded around you, and you couldn’t help but think of Thor. You assumed a similar thing was happening to him, but was it like this?

It was then when you noticed the mud caked up on the underside of your fists, looking around to notice how hard it had been raining. You couldn’t tell what was blood and what was dirt as you examined your night clothes, and the darkness of your surroundings didn’t assist in your vision either. You prayed that the slight dizziness was only a result of your constant change of course and not from immense blood loss, but one could only hope now.

“Darling…”

You didn’t have enough energy to quiet your shocked scream as you heard him, it could be either one, still, you cautiously lifted your gaze to meet his own, noting how distraught he looked.

Within the flashes of light, you could make out the trails of wetness that stained his cheeks, his hair tossed around and out of place. He slowly released a bloodied dagger from his hand, reaching out to you with softly trembling hands.

“What happened?” You rasped, voice raw from screaming.

“It’s done.” He refused to look at you as he spoke, similar to how he was the night he had first explained this whole ordeal to you.

A soft, sad smile graced your face, placing your hand in his as he assisted you upright.

Without any further hesitation, his lips were slotted on yours the moment you stood. “It’s done.” He breathed, pulling you flush against him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, you were almost certain you would collapse if you didn’t. You still felt so weak, it felt the longer you were standing, the more your energy was slowly drained from you, knees buckling as you continued to lean on him for support. Maybe you were better off just crawling back.

“I need to-” You groaned as you attempted to put your full weight on your ankle again, “I need to lie down.” Your tone heavy with exhaustion as he slung your arm around his shoulder, supporting you as he began trudging slowly through the garden. You wondered how he had found you so quickly, though you promptly reminded yourself that he was indeed raised here and probably knew this palace and its gardens better than anyone, with all the secret passageways and hidden doorways you had presumed would be in a palace so large. “Thank you” You whispered, though it was barely enough to express your gratitude, in truth, you didn’t think you had the energy for anything else, simple words would have to do for now.

He only hummed in response, still continuing to look forward as he practically pulled you through the mud.

“Loki…”

“Yes my love.” His timbre was now surprisingly calm and collected from how it was just moments ago, he couldn’t have gotten over all this so quickly.

“What happened?” You repeated

He paused, gently turning his face to look at you. What you couldn’t make out before, you could see now up close. His eyes were dark, almost black, the blue-green of his iris now reduced to a thin line around his pupil. His lips began to turn, but as his smile grew, it seemed to become less of a smile, eventually forming into a twisted, wicked grin.

This was not your Loki. That much you knew.

holy cow! what a ride! i hope you all enjoyed this very spooky time! i know i had a blast writing it! feel free to hop into my asks anytime to let me know what you thought (or just share your general nerdy thoughts!) as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are always much appreciated! i hope you all have a very fun (and safe) spooky time this halloween! mwauh!

want more loki? check out my masterlist! and thank you so so so much for reading!

[reveniemus]

8 or 21 or 31 for the hug prompts. love your new look 😉💖

thank you!! i am obsessed with this photoshoot 😭😭 also i hope you enjoy some angst i guess?? bc i write that now???

geraskier in angst major, no. 1

pairing: gen with lite!geraskier rating: teen warnings: implied torture, mild descriptions of injuries jaskier is not having a good time

on ao3

Never say never, his mother had always said, and yet, Jaskier had foolishly done just that. He thought he was never going to feel anything worse than the heartache of what happened on the mountain, and yet, this moment was a very strong contender. It was such an obvious thing too, and Jaskier knew if Geralt had been there, he would’ve tutted at him for being so oblivious to the fact that the men giving him the eye were not, in fact, looking for a one night tumble.

Then again, if Geralt had been there, Jaskier wouldn’t have been flouncing about in a crowded tavern in plain view of some Nilfgaardian soldiers out of uniform. He would’ve been curled up in a bedroll on the forest floor, eating rabbit or deer and scribbling in his notebook while Geralt sharpened his swords.

“Bard’s tougher than he looks, huh?” he hears one of the guards say after he’s taken yet another beating. “That’s the third one today and he’s still conscious, somehow.”

“Barely. I bet if he got another one today, he’d tell us everything,” his companion says, and Jaskier’s body involuntarily winces at the thought of another beating so soon to his last one.

“Think the captain will let us? It’s not like we’re getting anywhere with the other prisoners,” the first one says, and he must lean against the bars because the scraping sound of metal against metal rings in Jaskier’s ears.

“Most likely. We haven’t tried branding yet,” the second voice answers, the gleeful tone to his voice making Jaskier’s stomach curl. Thankfully, it sounds like they’re finally, finally walking away and Jaskier lets himself relax when the sounds of their conversation dissipate.

He takes a deep breath and even that small, miniscule amount of movement makes his body ache. Jaskier tries to remember the things Geralt used to say about managing pain. The first step was to take inventory of his body to figure out what was wrong. It’s hard to do on his side, so Jaskier shifts, his face scrunching up as he lays on his back. It isn’t comfortable and the movement makes his bones feel like they’re on fire. How is it possible to feel this much pain and survive?

Okay, he can do this. He can take inventory of his body, just like Geralt used to.

Deep breath.

Something aches on his calf, near his ankle. Twisting it shoots pain up his leg, and Jasker bites down on his bottom lip to stop from making a noise. He can’t let the soldiers know he’s conscious enough to make noise.

Deep breath.

There’s a cut on his right upper thigh. He doesn’t know when he acquired it. This last beating? The one before? It’s not actively bleeding anymore, which is good. He thinks it means they didn’t hit anything major.

Deep breath.

A stabbing pain shoots up his left arm. Fuck. He hopes it’s not a break, because the implications of it makes his heart ache. Then again, he doesn’t know when he’ll see his lute again, so maybe it doesn’t really matter.

Deep breath.

His abdomen feels heavy. Is this what internal bleeding feels like? He should’ve asked Geralt how to know if you’re bleeding internally. Jaskier thinks he’d be colder if he were bleeding internally, or number.

Deep breath.

Jaskier’s head is pounding — not enough to distract from the rest of his pain, but just enough that his thoughts are verging on disjointed. Geralt would yell at him for not being able to focus.

Deep breath.

That definitely means there’s a head injury though. Jaskier remembers when Geralt had fought two fiends and they’d knocked him around. He had insisted that Jaskier not let him sleep, that it would make a head injury worse. Jaskier isn’t sure what worse means when the main part of your body that keeps things running is already hurt, but he thinks it means he shouldn’t sleep.

Deep breath.

If he’s asleep, though, he won’t feel the pain of his injuries. Jaskier closes his eyes, knowing Geralt would hit him for genuinely contemplating falling asleep while he’s got a definitive head injury.

Deep — Jaskier is jolted out of his breathing routine by a loud clanging noise, followed by thumps and screams and the sound of running. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, grimacing with the motion, to peer past the bars of his cell.

He should move back, maybe hide in the shadows and hope that whoever is attacking the prison will leave him alone. If he can have time to heal, he can get out of here and find … who? Geralt made it very clear he didn’t want Jaskier around, and it wasn’t like Jaskier could go around and find his old acquaintances. Anyone who was associated with him could be in danger because of his association with the White Wolf.

Maybe he could turn this prison into his home after whoever is out there finishes off the Nilfgaardians. Jaskier lays back down, closing his eyes and taking deep, slow breaths as the noises of fighting seem to get closer. If he lies here, maybe they’ll think this cell is empty of viable prisoners and they’ll keep going.

“Fuck,” he hears a voice grunt before the door to his cell opens. The voice seems familiar, but Jaskier can feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness and his already-vaguely-disjointed thoughts connect even less and less. “Please don’t be dead,” the voice says, and Jaskier vaguely feels a warm body next to him. The immediacy of the movement makes him flinch, and he hears another curse from the voice.

Familiarity blooms inside him, and he winces. His mind is playing tricks on him, it seems, maybe the Nilfgaardians decided an illusion would be more useful than a branding. Jaskier tries to curl into himself, but the pain that courses through him makes him scream.

“Jaskier, please, don’t move,” the voice whispers, gruff and gentle, and Jaskier whimpers as a hand brushes back his hair.

“Please, I don’t know anything, I swear,” he pleads, fighting back tears.

“It’s okay, Jask, you’re safe,” the voice murmurs, and Jaskier whines. The illusion feels so real it makes his heart ache, reminds him of the moments he clung to when Geralt’s fingers would barely brush over his skin when they were making camp, or when Jaskier made a stupid decision that got him hurt.

Suddenly, Jaskier is being tugged up, and he’s shocked into looking up. His eyes widen when he sees a shock of long white hair and amber eyes, a soft whisper escaping his lips.

“Yes, it’s me. We have to keep moving,” Geralt says, and Jaskier feels arms on his waist as he somehow gets on his feet. “Can you stand?” he asks, his eyes glittering with concern in a way that makes Jaskier’s head spin.

“You’re here,” he whispers, leaning back a little as Geralt’s hand moves from his waist. It’s not far, he can feel the heat of it against the ragged remains of his chemise, and Jaskier feels more light headed than he has in weeks.

“Careful,” the witcher murmurs, catching Jaskier’s arm as he sways on the spot. “I’ve got you, Julek.” His arm wraps around Jaskier’s waist and he brings him closer.

Jaskier inhales Geralt’s scent, a mix of leather and horse that’s difficult to duplicate, much less recreate in an illusion, and ignoring the sharp ache in his lungs at the movement. He’s probably got a broken rib, he realizes, as he involuntarily leans into Geralt more. “You’re here,” he repeats, his eyes fluttering.

“I am, but don’t fall asleep on me yet. You’ve got a nasty head wound,” Geralt says, his voice gruff and stern and the familiar tendrils of it makes Jaskier’s heart warm.

“Y’know, even if this was a dream, it’s a nice dream. I hoped this would be my last,” Jaskier whispers, like it’s a secret, as he leans into Geralt, wrapping an arm around the witcher’s waist. He has no balance, so he feels the sway of his body as he tries to recalibrate his center of gravity.

“It’s not a dream, and it sure as hell won’t be your last one.” Geralt’s response is angry, almost aggressive, and Jaskier thinks maybe he’s far too out of it to be affected by that. “Yen’s outside with a portal waiting for me to get you out of here,” he continues, tightening his grip around Jaskier’s waist and moving out of the cell.

Jaskier makes a soft noise, burying his face in Geralt’s neck as the witcher half-carries him out of the keep. “You came for me,” he mumbles, voice slurring as darkness starts to take a hold of his consciousness.

“I always will,” Geralt whispers. Or maybe it’s just a part of Jaskier’s dream. “You’re not dreaming, Jaskier, and I need you to stay awake.”

Did he say that aloud? Oh. Did that mean he was definitely dreaming or definitely not? Jaskier is about to say something else, he thinks, but putting words together has become very difficult. What a useless wordsmith he is, isn’t he? Not able to put words together! What a sorry excuse of a bard.

“What’s he babbling about?” a sultry feminine voice asks, and Jaskier’s body jerks, the pain shooting from his possibly-twisted ankle as he tries to run off. “Bard, what are you doing? Has he been doing this the whole time?”

“Hm,” Geralt grunts, shifting to hoist Jaskier towards the shimmering portal that’s just outside of his fuzzy eyeline.

“Why didn’t you Axii him like one of your horses?” Yennefer asks, her voice coming closer as Jaskier’s arm lifts and loops over someone’s neck. A lilac and gooseberries someone.

Geralt lets out a grunt that, if he were in the right state of mind, Jaskier would be able to translate, but for now, he knows there’s an underlying layer of softness to it that he wants to hold close to his heart.

“Oh, you stupid witcher,” Yennefer mumbles before Jaskier feels chaos surrounding him. It’s the last thing he consciously notes for himself before his vision goes black and his mind goes empty.

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 10: "The Weight of Grief"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 5.4k

a/n: This one is quite heavy on the angst. Also--if you haven't realized already, the timeline and events of this series aren't exactly canon. Just for clarification. I split this installment into two parts so the next one is actually going to be titled "Last to Know." Feedback is always appreciated! And I have not published this to AO3 with whatever is going on, but I will whenever things have calmed down over there. I just didn't want to leave everyone hanging when I had updates ready!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine

“How about you let me take you out for dinner Saturday night?”

Shouldering your phone against your ear, you continued to distractedly chop vegetables for the late dinner you were making in your kitchen. A smile made its way onto your lips at the prospect of a third date already.

“How bold of you, Adam,” you teased. “Three Saturday nights in a row? A girl might think you like her.”

“Maybe I want the girl to think I like her,” he teased back.

Pausing your chopping, you set the knife down on the cutting board before wiping your hands on the towel next to it. Grabbing your phone from your shoulder, you turned and rested your back against the countertop. Chewing your lip, you felt a faint blush rise to your cheeks.

You’d met Adam through a speed dating event that Karen had dragged you along with her to. That had been about a month ago now. You’d thought the whole idea was terrible and you’d made her promise not to say anything to Foggy or Matt, not wanting either of them to judge you for going. You figured it would make you sound desperate because you were sure Karen wasn’t really having trouble in the dating department. It was clearly a ploy to get you to go in the hopes of finding someone instead of Matt to think about.

And you and Karen had considered the experience successful because you’d instantly clicked with Adam that night. From the moment he sat down at your table and smiled at you, you’d been hooked. He was a veterinary technician with a big heart and a love of animals, something that had immediately won you over with him. He was cute, too. And funny. And he seemed like he was close with his family. With Adam, you found you weren’t actively trying to forget about Matt and push him out of your thoughts. Something that had you instantly drawn to him because no one else had ever accomplished that since you'd met Matt back at Columbia. 

And ever since Matt and Elektra had surprised you at your apartment a few months ago, you'd tried hard to let your feelings for him go. There would never be anything more between you and him, you knew that now. So now you were doing your best to focus on just letting Matt be your friend, especially while you tried to adjust to the new knowledge about his heightened senses and him being the masked man running around the streets of Hell’s Kitchen at night performing heroics. Though now he’d recently become known as Daredevil in the news ever since he'd gotten that protective new suit made for him. And you were glad he had because you'd worried a lot less about his well-being; he was visibly sporting less injuries at least.

But you didn't spend as much time with Matt as you used to, even if you had stopped actively avoiding him. He was often busy with his vigilante endeavors, and it just felt weird and uncomfortable being around him knowing he knew you had feelings for him that he didn't return. And from your knowledge, he had spent the past few months helping Elektra with something. You were certain they were back together again even if you'd never asked and had it confirmed. You didn't want to even think about it.

And as for what he was helping her with–you didn't ask about that either. You weren't as in the know about what was going on as Foggy and Karen seemed to be, and frankly you didn't want to be. Despite having come to accept Matt's secret alter ego, you didn't want to know about anything that involved Elektra. So whenever the topic of her came up, you usually asked about the bare minimum and found a way to quickly exit the conversation–especially when you’d later overheard that Elektra had died, but also apparently had been resurrected from the dead. Which had confused you too much to want to try to understand.

"Well I am free Saturday night," you answered Adam. 

"Should we try that new Italian restaurant?" he asked over the line. "You were talking about craving pasta earlier this week."

The smile on your lips grew wider. You'd told him that offhandedly on the phone three nights ago and apparently he'd remembered. 

"I would like that," you told him. "I'm–"

A few knocks on your apartment door interrupted you, your attention shifting to it across the room. A frown settled on your mouth. It was after seven on a Thursday night, who would be stopping by? You hadn't been expecting company. 

"Hey, Adam, someone's apparently at my door," you told him. "Mind if we finalize the details tomorrow?"

"Not at all," he told you, the smile apparent in his chipper tone. "I'll call you in the evening? After work?"

"That sounds great," you told him.

You exchanged goodbyes before hanging up, setting your phone onto your kitchen counter. Eyeing your door curiously, you made your way across your apartment towards it. It took you a few moments to unlock the door, unlatching the deadbolt before pulling it open.

Your eyebrows rose up high onto your forehead at the unexpected sight of Foggy and Karen standing there. Both of them had red, puffy eyes that were glistening with tears on their sullen faces. Heart beating harder in your chest, your hand tightened around the doorknob you were still holding. Whatever had brought them here couldn't be good, not with the way Foggy’s lips were suddenly trembling as he opened his mouth, clearly struggling to form a sentence. 

And that's when you knew what this visit had to be about. You'd felt the rumble and shaking earlier tonight when you'd been grabbing food at the store on your way home from work. Everyone had been saying it had been an earthquake at the time, but you'd later heard something about a building collapsing nearby in Hell’s Kitchen.

Something must have happened to Matt. There was no other reason for both of them to be standing there looking at you like they were. Not in the state they were in.

Tears immediately stung at your eyes, a feeling of dread washing over you as your gaze danced between the pair of them before you. It felt like your throat was closing up, making it almost impossible for you to swallow. Shaking your head, you felt the first tears fall. 

"No," you said, voice breaking on the word. "No, don't tell me he got hurt."

A choked sob fell out of Karen instantly, your heart feeling like someone had crushed it in their fist at the sound. One of her hands rose up to cover her mouth as she turned away, unable to look at you. Beside her, Foggy sent you an apologetic smile when your eyes met his, but he couldn’t hide the tears present and ready to spill over. 

"There was an–an accident," Foggy said softly. "Matt he was–was out helping those others like him. The ones we'd told you a bit about. They were over at Midland Circle." He paused, exhaling a shuddering breath. "Trying to destroy that Hand group. And they–they blew up the building."

Both of your hands flew to your face at the tremble in Foggy’s voice and the implication of his words. You felt like you were going to be sick.

"No," you repeated, shaking your head more firmly. "No, no he's okay. Tell me he's okay, Foggy!" you shouted.

Foggy said your name softly, stepping into your apartment slowly with his hands raised placatingly as if he was approaching a wild animal. A painful grimace was on his face as he approached you and you took a step back, still shaking your head as more tears streamed down your cheeks.

"He didn't make it out," he whispered. 

"No," you growled through clenched teeth. "No, don't you tell me that! Don’t you fucking tell me that, Foggy!"

"The others said he stayed behind," Foggy continued gently. "Trying to save Elektra."

It felt like you’d been barreled over by a city bus at his words. Matt had stayed behind…to save Elektra? He died for her? The heartless woman who’d only toyed with him? The woman who didn’t even know the beautiful, fragile heart she held in the palm of her hands? Who’d never truly loved him, abandoning him back at Columbia with a shattered heart? The very same heart you’d spent months trying to help him piece back together just for him to give it back to her years later to permanently destroy?

He died for her?

You collapsed to your knees, hot tears steadily pouring down your cheeks. It wasn’t until Foggy was kneeling on the floor before you, his hands gingerly grasping your shoulders and drawing you towards him, that you realized you were screaming. You fought Foggy’s attempts to soothe you, struggling against him as he tried to hold you still. The entire time you heard him repeatedly croaking out ‘I know, I know’ over and over, emotion thick in his own voice. 

“He’s not dead!” you wailed, still thrashing against Foggy. “He’s not dead! Matt’s not dead!!”

“Hey, hey,” Karen said gently, her voice breaking as she kneeled down beside you and Foggy on the floor. “I–I know it’s hard to hear,” she whispered, “but Matt he–he didn’t make it. They–they said they saw him stay behind.”

“Well maybe he made it out!” you cried hysterically, sniffling loudly as the tears didn’t stop falling. “They’re wrong! It’s–it’s Matt we’re talking about, guys! He’s–he’s like a goddamn superhero! He isn’t dead! He can’t be!”

There was no way you would believe Matt was gone. That his smiling face wouldn't still greet you if you headed over to his apartment right now. That he wouldn't be calling you tomorrow night to see if you wanted to grab drinks with him, Foggy, and Karen at Josie’s. That he wouldn’t be making one of his stupid blind jokes to you over a few beers.

He wasn't dead. You'd have known if he was. Felt it somehow.

Matt wasn’t dead.

You shook your head, pulling away out of Foggy’s embrace and roughly wiping the backs of your hands against your tear stained cheeks. Sniffling loudly again, you ignored the pitying looks on their faces.

“Was there a body?” you asked, trying to calm down.

“What?” Foggy asked you.

“Was there a body?” you repeated, forcefully enunciating each word.

“No, not yet,” he answered. “But they just started trying to sort through the rubble. The emergency responders said it could take days for them to sort through the mess.” Foggy’s frown deepened as he said your name again. “It doesn’t sound like he made it.”

“No,” you said firmly, rising back up to your feet and wiping at your eyes again. “I’m not believing it until there’s a body. He’s alive, I know he is.”

Karen sent you a sad smile, tears still falling down her own cheeks. “Okay,” she said softly with a nod. “Let’s give it a few days. Maybe–maybe they were wrong.”

You were kneeling, bent over the pew before you with your forehead resting against your clasped hands. You'd lost track of the time a while ago, unsure how long you'd been here. But your back was now stiff from however long you'd remained stationary in prayer, your knees aching. 

Praying wasn't something you did. You'd never been the religious type, though lately you'd often found yourself seeking solace at Clinton Church. Because it was Matt's church, the place where he told you he grew up going to. The place he had told you he frequented for advice from Father Lantom–who you'd met now with all the time you'd been spending here since Matt had gone missing. The orphanage he grew up in was just next door to this church, too. 

Coming here in the recent days since Matt had disappeared had always made you feel closer to him for some unexplainable reason. Like you could just feel him here in the walls of the church somehow. It was comforting to you, the only comfort you’d come to find over the past couple of weeks.

Despite the fact that everyone had told you he'd been in the building when it collapsed, and that he'd been missing for over two weeks, and the fact that you'd gone to a memorial service for him at this very church just a few days ago, you still absolutely refused to believe Matt was dead. There had never been a body found among the wreckage of Midland Circle–for him or Elektra. Which only cemented it in your mind that he was out there alive somewhere. 

But your friends were not of the same mind. They’d tried to grieve him at his memorial service, and they’d spent many conversations already trying to convince you that the facts all pointed to Matt having passed in the building’s collapse. Foggy had even asked you to explain why Matt wouldn't have reached out to let any of you know he was alive if he really had made it out of the building. All you could think was that he was lying horribly injured somewhere and unable to reach out. That had to be what was going on. 

Because Matt Murdock wasn't dead. He just wasn't. You didn't care that Foggy looked at you now with a different and more infuriating sympathetic look on his face whenever he saw you, one that wasn't just because you were in love with Matt and he didn’t return those feelings. He thought you were in denial and delusional now, unable to accept reality. 

Maybe you were, but you weren’t going to accept his death without proof of a body.

You heard movement nearby as someone came and sat down in the pew beside where you were kneeling. Almost immediately you recognized the scent of incense and smoke and you already knew who’d taken a seat–Father Lantom. Over the past few days he’d been stopping to chat with you, having recognized you from Matt’s memorial service and realizing you’d been showing up often. 

With a sigh you lifted your head, turning and glancing at Father Lantom in the pew. He was smiling at you, the expression somehow reassuring and comforting just like the church itself. Pushing yourself away from the kneeler, you settled into the pew beside him, your focus on your hands in your lap.

“You’re back again today,” Father Lantom observed.

“I come every day after work,” you muttered.

“You do,” he agreed lightly. “And how’re you feeling today?”

Your hands clenched into fists in your lap. “Furious,” you answered, eyes still focused on your hands. “I’m still angry. Probably more angry than anything lately.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Father Lantom nod. He shifted in the pew, turning to face you more fully.

“Anger is a common reaction when a loved one is taken from us,” he told you. “Especially when the loss is so unexpected.”

Your head darted up, your eyes brimming with tears as you focused on the priest beside you. “He’s not dead,” you stated, shaking your head firmly. “I told you that. He’s not dead.”

Something flickered across Father Lantom’s face briefly before his lips pressed into a thin line, his expression becoming something neutral. He nodded his head just once. 

“So much like Matthew yourself,” he mused. “He was always stubborn. Ever since he was a boy, really. When he had an idea in his head you couldn’t shake it from him for anything.”

A tear slipped out of your eye, your hand darting up to quickly wipe it away as your focus shifted to the large crucifix at the front of the church. It was the one thing you didn’t like about Clinton Church–the way Christ was always staring back at you from within the sanctuary, battered and bleeding on the cross. It felt too much like Matt.

“I miss him,” you whispered, eyes falling back down to your hands in your lap. 

I still love him.

“Well,” Father Lantom began slowly, “the most we can do for those we’ve lost–however it is that we’ve lost them–is to keep on living. I believe Matthew would want that for you. To keep living your life. To move forward.”

“I feel like all I’ve done is move backwards,” you admitted quietly, your fingers twisting around each other now. “I barely sleep. I can’t focus at work. I broke things off with the guy I was seeing not too long ago because I just can’t–can’t pretend everything is okay. Because it’s not, nothing is.”

Father Lantom sighed loudly, shifting in the pew beside you to clasp his own hands in his lap. His mouth opened as if he was about to speak, but you saw his focus shift towards a nun, your own eyes following the movement. She looked quite stern as she eyed the priest beside you, almost like she was trying to tell him something with her eyes, but when her attention turned to you her expression softened. You swore she offered you a smile before you ducked your head, tears once again threatening to fall. 

You abruptly rose to your feet, the threat of tears urging you to seek the solitude of your apartment before you broke down publicly in the church. That was usually your cue to leave.

“Going already?” Father Lantom asked in surprise.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, turning away from him and making your way towards the other end of the pew. “I’m sure I’ll be back tomorrow, though. And the next day.”

Matt’s hand tentatively reached out, fingers brushing over the cool stone of the statue. He could feel the grainy texture of it under the pads of his fingers. Each and every little divot in the stone. His sense of touch hadn’t really been affected by the collapse of Midland Circle, not quite, but what a shitty and useless sense to have retained. All it did was make him further aware of how uncomfortable the cheap cotton clothes he was wearing felt on his skin, and how scratchy the little bed he attempted to sleep in every night felt underneath him. It only brought him further discomfort and pain to match his injuries.

His hearing hadn’t fully come back to him, either; it was often touch and go. Sometimes he’d hear a ringing in one or both of his ears if it didn’t sound like he was underwater. He also hadn’t regained his heightened sense of taste–didn’t matter what food Sister Maggie brought him, it all tasted like blood and ash. And his sense of smell was basically nonexistent. He hadn’t been able to smell a damn thing besides smoke since he’d woken up in the undercroft of Clinton Church. He was utterly and pathetically useless without his senses. Just plodding around clumsily with a cane and tripping over his own goddamn feet in the church’s basement.

Yet for some reason, he still found himself trying. Which is what he’d been up out of his bed trying to do now as he attempted to map out the space he was in. He had no idea what time of day it was–it’s not like he could hear much besides the room he was in to even gauge time–and he was becoming stir crazy trapped in this church basement trying to heal. So he’d been up the past few minutes wandering around, his cane left hanging off one of the statues somewhere in the room. He honestly didn’t even know where, which wouldn’t have been the case if he’d been back to his normal self. Something that only further pissed him off.

Matt took a handful of careful steps forward, focusing intensely on where he was going. But as he took one more step, his foot hit something solid and he lost his balance. He fell to the floor, his hands flying out to try to brace himself for the impact, but he’d cut his palm on the corner of something sharp before he landed roughly on his side. He groaned out, his eyes closing as he curled into a ball.

He wished he’d have died in that goddamn building. 

But that wasn’t quite true. What he’d really wished was that Elektra hadn’t been so dead set on getting her hands on what the Hand had been after. That she hadn’t become the Hand’s puppet when they’d resurrected her as the Black Sky. If she’d have just listened to him he wouldn’t have stayed behind. He wouldn’t have felt the need to try to save her. Because despite the hurt she’d put him through, despite the way she’d broken his heart those years ago, he couldn’t just leave her to die. That wasn’t him. But ever since he’d woken up after he’d been dragged out of that wreckage, he’d hated her for having made him make that choice. For not just leaving with him and everyone else. For choosing to die trying to get what she wanted, and in true Elektra fashion, dragging him down with her.

But it wasn’t Elektra he’d been thinking about when the building had collapsed and he knew he was about to die.

It was you.

Every moment he’d ever had with you felt like it raced through his mind in a matter of seconds. The first time he’d stumbled on you on campus, when you'd stopped to help that stranger pick up their spilled belongings and you’d been so unbelievably kind. All that time he’d spent searching Columbia's campus for a sign of you afterwards. The unexplainable excitement when he’d accidentally ran into you at the library and finally got your name and your phone number. And every good memory he had of you ever since then; all of those Saturday nights he’d spent with you and Foggy, and the times he got you all to himself when Foggy had inevitably passed out early in his bed. Every conversation at meal times in the dining hall. He recalled graduation night when he’d almost kissed you, almost told you he loved you–and he regretted it so much right now that he’d never just said it back then. 

He recalled every moment with you that he could–every single one of them. Because he wanted you to be his dying thought.

As the building fell around him, Elektra had been shouting something at him, trying to rile him up one last time, but he hadn’t been paying attention to her because he’d been trying to remember the way it felt when he held you in his arms. You’d always fit so perfectly against him. He’d tried his hardest to recall the scent of your shampoo–something faintly floral and sweet, but never overpowering–and the softness of your hair the times he’d been bold enough to press his nose into it. You almost always buried your face into his left shoulder when he embraced you, a small random detail, but one he always remembered nevertheless. Your arms always wrapped around him so hesitant at first, but then you’d almost melt into him for a moment, expelling the softest little sigh that he always wondered about, even then in that moment. 

And that’s what Matt believed would be his last thought. The memory of that soft, contented sigh that always confused him whenever you hugged him.

Except it wasn’t his last thought because he hadn’t died in the explosion. He’d somehow been spared. Saved. But all he could think about since he had woken without his senses was how absurd that was considering God had clearly turned his back on him. He’d been spared for what? What was the point of him without his heightened senses that he’d always thought God had bestowed on him?

So he’d decided to let Matt Murdock die at Midland Circle. He figured he would finally listen to Stick–he’d cut out the people in his life he cared about who cared about him in order to keep them safe. Foggy, Karen, and you.

You were all safer without him. Safer thinking he was dead and gone.

And then he would just be Daredevil. Nothing left to live for, nothing left to lose.

Matt heard the faint, muddled sound of footsteps hitting his ears as someone descended the church’s basement steps. The sound pulled him from his bleak thoughts. Gradually he pushed himself upright, leaning against the stone of whatever it was he’d tripped over. He wasn’t surprised when he heard Sister Maggie’s voice speak a moment later. It was only ever her or Father Lantom that checked on him down here to begin with.

“What on earth are you doing on the floor?” Sister Maggie asked.

Matt huffed out a frustrated breath from his place on the hard floor. He could hear Maggie’s footsteps approaching him and he tried to focus on them, attempting to lock on to her movement in the room.

“Falling, apparently,” he muttered bitterly.

He heard the way Sister Maggie sighed, the noise coming from nearby. He realized she’d lowered to sit on the floor next to him a few seconds later when he registered her body temperature near his right side.

“I brought you something,” she told him.

“I’m guessing food?” he asked flatly. “Not like I can smell anything still. Everything tastes the same too–like blood and ash.”

Matt felt Sister Maggie press something into his hand. It was long and cylindrical. Wrapped in something like a wax paper wrapping. 

“It’s a sandwich from the deli nearby,” she said. “Thought you might enjoy it more than the soup Sister Ethel made tonight for the children.”

Matt’s fingers ran over the paper wrapper for a moment, trying to ignore the stirring in his chest at the kind gesture from Sister Maggie.

“Thank you,” Matt murmured.

He heard her unscrew the cap of something next. It sounded like a pill bottle; the sound of a few pills rattled out of it and into her hand.

“Brought you water, too,” she continued. “And you need to keep taking these.”

Matt held out a hand expectantly, waiting for her to drop the two pills into his upturned palm as she came down here to do every few hours. When she did, he quickly tossed them into his mouth. Holding out his hand again, Sister Maggie handed him an opened bottle of water. He drank down the pills, frowning as he swallowed and stared blankly ahead. 

“How’s the hearing?” she asked.

Matt made a face, the fingers of his left hand absently fiddling with the sandwich wrapper again. “Still can’t hear for shit,” he replied.

“Well your body took quite a beating,” she told him. “Everything’s swollen. Maybe your hearing will come back when it goes down.” There was a brief pause before she added, “Or maybe it’ll come back when you finally take your head out of your ass.”

A sharp, bitter laugh fell out of Matt at her words. He hadn’t been expecting that, but she'd been full of crass and unexpected comments like that since he'd woken here. 

Humorless laughter subsiding quickly, a heavy silence fell around the pair of them. Matt didn't need his extra senses to know there was more she wanted to say. And he had a feeling he knew what it would be, too.

"What?" he asked. 

He briefly registered the sound of Sister Maggie’s shoes lightly tapping along the cement floor, almost like a nervous fidget. Matt's frown only deepened as he waited in silence. 

"She was back again this evening," she eventually said.

Matt's eyelids slowly lowered, his heart feeling like it sank to the floor beside him. She didn't have to even say your name, he knew she meant you. Father Lantom had told him he'd seen you every day here for over a week now. Always bent over a pew in prayer–which was odd because he knew you weren't religious and you weren’t a parishioner at Clinton Church.

"Who is she?" Sister Maggie asked curiously. "She comes here everyday grieving over you. I saw her at your memorial service with those friends of yours that you refuse to call friends.”

“Just someone who used to be a friend, too,” Matt mumbled morosely.

“Seems like more than a friend with how often she frequents this church because of you,” Sister Maggie replied. “Paul seems to think so, too.”

Matt’s head darted towards her at her words, his brows furrowing. “Father Lantom has spoken with her?” he asked. “He’s never told me that.”

“Mmm, oh yes,” Maggie answered. “Often. She comes around the same time every evening. Just after work. Always praying silently in the same pew. Paul says she doesn’t believe you’ve actually died.”

Matt’s brows drew together even further on his forehead, his mouth going dry. “What?” he breathed out.

“She refuses to believe you're dead without a body,” Sister Maggie explained. “And she’d be right, because you aren’t dead. But you are stubborn as hell, though. Tormenting your friends like this. Letting them think you’re dead and forcing them to mourn the loss of you. Letting that poor young woman up there put her life on hold–”

“She’s not putting her life on hold,” Matt cut her off sharply. “She’ll move on soon enough.”

Sister Maggie drew in a deep breath, silence once again falling between the pair of them. Matt’s attention shifted back to the space in front of him. His fingers were still absently fiddling with the sandwich wrapper.

Why were you coming here every day praying for him though? Refusing to believe he’d died? Why not just mourn with Foggy and Karen and move on already? Just forget about him. He wasn’t any good for you anyway. You deserved a better friend, one who wasn’t in love with you and keeping your secret from Foggy just because he was selfish.

“Was she more than your friend, Matthew?”

The question broke through his thoughts, Matt’s face scrunching together in confusion at the unexpectedness of it. Why would she even ask that?

“No,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “She’s just a friend. From Columbia.”

“Hmm,” Sister Maggie hummed curiously. “But you love her, don’t you?”

Matt’s teeth grit together, his jaw clenching in frustration at that question. He had been trying his best to ignore those feelings. And also–how the hell could she possibly know that?

“You flinch everytime Paul or I say her name,” she clarified. “Every time we tell you she’s been by the church crying again. It hurts you that she’s hurting. I can see it plain on your face, Matthew. It’s killing you.”

“She’s not safe being around me,” Matt ground out.

Sister Maggie scoffed loudly. “That’s bullshit and self-pity talking,” she shot back. “Clearly the woman loves you, too. Why keep up the lie? Why keep hurting her?”

Matt shook his head, his fist tightening around the bottle of water in his right hand. “She’s in love with our mutual best friend. She’s told me that already,” he gritted out. “And she’ll move on from the loss of me.”

He heard the frustrated sigh come from the nun beside him, vaguely aware of her rising back up to her feet. For some reason the thought of her leaving him alone again down here had him grinding his teeth harder together. He didn’t want to be alone. But it was better if he learned to live like that.

“I think you’re being foolish and stupid,” Sister Maggie stated bluntly. “Causing undue harm to those you love most–and it's only going to backfire on you. And if you really think that young woman repeatedly coming here doesn’t have feelings for you, you’re more foolish than I ever thought.”

Sister Maggie’s steps slowly grew fainter and fainter until he could no longer hear them anymore. His focus shifted down to the sandwich in his lap that she’d brought him, his fingers carefully tearing the paper open.

She didn’t know what she was talking about, he thought angrily to himself. Sister Maggie couldn’t possibly understand the decisions he’d made or why you kept coming to Clinton Church. He’d been one of your best friends–a shitty one, truthfully–and you were grieving. That was all.

[uuujeewriting]

may I request HCs for Albedo, Childe, Kaeya, Diluc and Xiao realizing their fem!darling is a yandere? like how would they feel and react?? ( i hope u don't make it too angst :(( ) - if u don't feel comfortable wrting this, i am deeply apologize, feel free to ignore this :<

stop it [albedo, childe, kaeya, diluc, xiao]

they find out their darling is a yandere! how will they fight to fix them?

tw: UNHEALTHY/TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, gore, violence, cuss words, manipulative behavior, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder

albedo x fem! reader, childe x fem! reader, kaeya x fem! reader, diluc x fem! reader, xiao x fem! reader

a/n: just a note that this behavior should not be romanticized and should not be followed! i believe that the boys would not condone this behavior either. sorry that this took a while nonnie! hope this is to your liking.

i would like to clarify that if any of these scenarios/hc's of mine are similar to other writers' works, it is unintentional and i apologize

not proof read

albedo

it came to him when he started picking up on your possessive behavior

he first found it quite unusual, how defensive you were when people–even his own students–pointed out how much you hogged the man to yourself

it was no secret you loved him, albeit maybe you did a little too much 

for the first few days of this repetitive behavior of yours, he didn’t seem to take it too seriously, he even indulges your fantasies when he found the time to do so

calling him yours alone and how everyone wouldn't matter, just as his queen said

how foolish of him to feed into this obsessive mindset of yours, he now knows

the kreideprinz was a fearless man, never submitting even to the most nerve-wracking of consequences

you should earn an award for making him tremble

face to face with your gruesome figure, albedo hesitates to move

finally, you break the tension

“what’s wrong, my love? is something bothering you?” you ask, taking a step forward

“stay back. don’t you dare touch me- i-..” he grows speechless

you slowly retreated to your space, pouting

“is it this corpse? i’m sorry, but she was getting in the way! always asking about your whereabouts and such, truly a burden-”

“sucrose was my assistant! why the hell wouldn’t she ask about me?!” his heart rate quickened, the blond has never experienced this much terror in his life

you grew silent, taking in the chief alchemist’s words

he feels his heart drop to his feet when he sees you smile slowly

“well, there’s nothing we can do about it now, hm?” you hug albedo after throwing the bat you used to bash open your victim’s skull, tainted with putrid crimson 

you laugh and bury your head in his chest but you notice droplets of water falling to your scalp

you look up at your quivering love and he stares back at you

“i’ll fix you, i’ll do whatever it takes to change those despicable temptations of yours and i’ll get you back, y/n.”

childe

childe was naturally clingy, never letting you out of his sight for more than two minutes. as a result, he didn't pick up on the subtle signs of your toxic behavior

what made him question this was your unreasonably foul attitude towards his family

one night, you and him visited his siblings in snezhnaya to have dinner

he was jubilant to say the least, the love of his life will finaly get the chance to meet the people he loved just as much as her!

"why are you so excited to see your siblings?" your question left him dumbfounded

did you not want to see them?

"well, y/n my dear, if there was anything i loved nore than you; it would be my beloved family!" he chuckles

when you reach his house, he's so excited that he misses how your eyes darken when he knocks at the door

"big brother! you're here!" teucer jumps in joy and hugs his sibling, the brother in question hugs back lovingly

how you hated it, make it end already

"teucer! i've missed you, too. how are sister tonia and the others?" childe smiles

was your presence suddenly not the most important thing anymore to him?

oh no, you're not going to let this happen

you cough and childe looks back at you, apologizing

"sorry, babe. come inside, i'll introduce you to the others." he takes your hand and guides you indoors to the living room

at the sight of their dear big brother, the group of siblings raced and laced their arms around him one way or another

childe laughs and attempts to stretch to hug all of then at the same time, only being able to circle two of his siblings

you felt inadequate again, damn siblings.

as childe introduces you to his family as his girlfriend, you didn't bother to mask your dislike for them

this concerns your beloved to the highest caliber

dinner rolls around and uncharacteristically, you offer to help out with preparing the food

childe was reluctant but overall, he couldn't deny a chance for you to finally change your views on atleast one of his siblings

"thank you for allowing me to help, tonia." you smile, feigningly to clarify

"it's no problem, i should be thanking you for insisting." she laughs and leaves the food on the counter to grab a condiment placed on the opposite side of the kitchen

quickly and silently, you scan the premises for what you needed

you find a container of rubbing alcohol in a compartment

grinning, you took it and spilled half the container into the water jug to be served

discarding of the half-empty bottle and putting the jug's lid back on, tonia returns and continues preparing the food

perfect.

when the food and tampered water was served, you replaced childe's glass of water swiftly

one of the siblings drinks the water and after a few minutes, he excuses himself while coughing

tonia was next and then teucer, childe was going insane and growing more and more concerned

finally having enough, he checks the food and once he smells the strong scent of alcohol in the jug of water, his eyes widen

he turns to you, his heart sinking at your triumphant expression

"y/n, how could you?!" he furrows his eyebrows, what happened to his beloved?

"they were taking you away from me. what was i supposed to do?" you raise an eyebrow

he clenches his fist. when he hears his siblings suffering, he heaves heavily

"we'll talk about this later and i swear to the gods i will change your attitude."

kaeya

kaeya is perceptive, he may have picked up on your despicable views earlier than the rest

how? don't question, it's his responsibility to take care of you

he does nothing at first, finding your obsessive behavior harmless at the present time

however, he draws the line after one particular event

"haha, well- if it weren't for how you sneaked through headquarter grounds, i wouldn't have had to waste my time tracking you down." he peers sarcastically at rosaria, he latter scoffing

"it's none of my business what you find suspicious." she sips on the wine she was holding

kaeya lets out a 'tch' and looks away, clearly upset

he arrives home to you cooking supper, his arms snaking around your waist

you smile, "bad day?" you ask, you know how he gets when he's dim and gloomy

"not particularly, but just had some trouble with sister rosaria."

what?

"what about her?" your grip on the ladle tightens

"nothing, it's really not a big deal." he palms your hand, kissing your neck

"oh, alright. if you say so, love." you state, but he should've watched what he says

you had your mind set and there was no stopping you

around 2-3 am you sneaked out of your shared home with the captain.

grabbing a cloak and satchel which incased your belongings, you head out into the streets

'where could that damn nun be at this time of night?'

you ponder for a good few minutes until-

bingo; clearing camps.

sneaking past the knights is rather easy, distract them with a rabbit and all is good

pulling the hood of the cloak lower to hide your face, you speed into the wilderness in search of rosaria

you find the preoccupied nun vanquishing a camp of hilichurls around the whispering woods, too busy to notice your presence

opening your satchel, you take your mask and secure it to your face

time to go through with the plan you'd devised.

"huh-?" rosaria hadn't reacted fast enough and you managed to tackle her to the ground after the last hilichurl was disposed of

she chokes on your hold and attempts to shove you off, only for her attempt to whiff

grabbing the polearm she had in her dominant hand, you twirl it and use it to replace your hand on her throat, choking her with ger own weapon

"w-who in t-the world..?" rosaria glares and struggles to keep herself conscious

you smirked, putting more pressure on the polearm

she grows more and more panicked, you bask in her expression of utter helplessness

she should have known better than to mess with you

to mess with kaeya

this is what she gets

you are going to have your way

yes, almost there-

"not quite, fiend."

suddenly, you get pulled back by the hood and you gasp in shock

rosaria recovers quickly and stands up, snatching back her weapon from your distracted figure

"though i hate to admit it, you sure can be a helpful comrade, cavalry captain." the nun scoffs

your blood went cold

"now who in the seven nations might this rodent be?" kaeya frowns, you attempt to struggle from his grip but to no avail

he takes off your disguise and you purse your lips

"..y/n?" rosaria questions, much more confused than your lover

"i had a feeling." kaeya remarks, surprising both you and the nun

"kaeya, you understand right? she upset you, she made you go through all that work just for you to find out it was some shady bitch roaming around the fucking city!" the two wince at your vulgar language, clearly not having any of it

"what's done is done." rosaria states and goes ahead to return to mond

kaeya lets you go and crosses his arms, disappointed in you

"you should know better, y/n. i'll have you know that although i love you dearly, this behavior of yours is not what i want from you." he reprimands you and you furrow your brows

"it's just me showing my love for you, i don't see what's wrong."

your statement makes the knight sigh

this is going to be a long night for the both of you

diluc

diluc wouldn't be too busy to spend time with you, but he'd be too busy to take notice of your toxicity

you lived in the manor, because of this, you had access to everything in the site

and when i say everything, i mean everything

yes, he trusted you too much and that's his downfall

not his, but rather a maid's

you were aware of his darknight hero duties and he made sure that you did, kissing you goodbye before leaving to rinse the land of roaming dangers

one night in particular, a certain head maid had made you quite envious

offering diluc a glass of grape juice, fixing his collar before he goes on about his daily stroll, even daring to clean his shared bedroom with you! my, how audacious she is.

after giving you a tender kiss, your lover heads out into the night and leaves you with the maids, giving you the opportunity to continue on your devious ways

calling adelinde into the garden, she comes along with the items you requested

two towels, a fork and a plate

of course she questioned it but who was she to deny her master's sweetheart?

with shaking limbs, she made her way towards the garden

"ah, finally. you're here," you make your way towards adelinde and she gulps

"i-i have the items you requested, miss y/n," she hands you the three objects that will serve a huge purpose tonight

"thank you," you smile at her as she attempts to smile and bow respectfully

"if that is all, i shall take my leave." she retreats into the manor

or atleast, she thoughts she was going to

quickly, you roll the towel and gag adelinde with it, tying the towel together and stabbing it to her nape with the fork with brute force

she screams for a split second and you smile, quickly bashing her head with the plate.

looking down at your doing, you grin impossibly wide

"miss y/n, why couldn't you have simply knocked her out first as to avoid her creating a rather loud shriek?" elzer sighed

"i wanted to hear her in agony, is that odd?" you raise an eyebrow at the chairman

he shakes his head, "no, not at all, master."

the next day, diluc is faced with a rather odd feeling of dread

as he finds adelinde, ironically, nowhere to be found, he immediately asks elzer which in turn is sworn to secrecy by you

it completely drove him mad, and you tried to take his mind off the maid yet he only pushed you aside

this angered you to the core

"what–is that maid more important than me now, after all this work i've done for you?!" you yelled at him and he huffs in annoyance

"what do you mean work?!" he yells back

"what could you have possibly done for me-" "i got rid of that bitch!"

he freezes, what did you just say?

you, there's no way. you aren't serious right? he must've misheard you, there's no fucking possibility that his head maid was de-

"she's gone. i made sure of it."

diluc feels a boiling sensation in his stomach and he takes your wrist to drag you to the outside of his office

"y/n, you better tell me where she is or i swear to barbatos i'm going to-"

he stops himself. what was he going to do? the same thing you had just done?

you smile at his realization, circling him

"see? you were just about to be hypocritical there, love." you chuckle

diluc gritted his teeth and steadies himself

he's going to teach you a lesson one way or another, but never in his life will he come to commit the crime you'd done

xiao

the adeptus neither cared nor disliked the things you do for him, however, when you stepped out of line one day, he began to watch over you like a hawk

it was when the traveler, lumine, visited your adeptus lover

you were excited to see xiao, you had two plates of almond tofu in hand and was stepping up the staira to the balcony

you hummed a little tune to yourself

"first hilichurl got sick, second hilichurl took care, third hilichurl gathers medicine, fourth hilichurl prepares-"

you halt your singing when you hear laughter

laughter from a woman, huffs from a man

an adeptus

your adeptus

"xiao, thanks for meeting up with me today, i really appreciate it." lumine smiles at the yaksha, "we would've been at a loss if it weren't for you."

frowning, you step back and watch them from behind the opening of the balcony

"i am in no need of your reassurance, puny mortal. it was a necessity for rex lapis' sake, do not take it any other way." he says, although the flush of his face was an obvious indicator that he also cared for his friend

"yeah, whatever you say xiao." paimon laughed and lumine soon after

fuck. you felt something break on your foot.

xiao and the traveler snapped their heads to your direction–

only to find nothing there

"i'll go check on it," lumine offers and xiao simply nods, finishing the tofu she brought for him

the blonde traveller walks to the scene and sees a plate of almond tofu in bits and pieces

"eh?... what's all this?" she questions

she crouches down to observe the scene

her fault.

"AH-!" lumine tumbles down the stairs with you on top of her

not giving her time to react, you punch her in the face repeatedly

"don't-" smack in the face

"try-" punch up her chin

"to-" bash her head on the floor

"take-" punch to the left

"him!" punch to the right

verr goldet and paimon cries for you to stop, the former prying you off the bruised blonde

xiao hears the commotion and sees the traveller's nose bleeding and your figure heaving on the ground, fists clenched

if verr goldet hadn't pulled you away, you would've killed the girl

xiao huffs and shakes visibly

"what is all this?" he angrily mumbles, "care to explain yourself, y/n?"

"xiao-" you begin to cry, "why would you spend time with her? i'm hurt of course!"

"you intend to tell me you're the only one i can talk to?" he raises his tone

"yes!" you whimper

unbelievable

"..verr goldet, bring the traveller to a healer, y/n, come with me." he holds a stoic expression

he was beyond angry

following him to the balcony, he keeps a distance from you, about three steps away.

finally coming to a stop, he faces you.

"i don't know what got onto you, but we're going to solve this," he crosses his arms, "right here, right now."

[liliesoftherain]

My Everlasting Alstroemeria

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader; Midoriya Izuku x Reader 

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst? 

Summary: Part 2 of Alstroemeria

A/N: Hi y’all, here's part 2!! Bakugou’s Pov. Let me know if you want a Deku pov????

-----

“Say hello dear; this is Lady (l/n) and her lovely daughter, Miss (y/n) (l/n).”

Katsuki stands there as The Lady bows gracefully with her daughter following suit, so he straightens and greets them as he’s been taught to. 

The Lady smiles, turning to his mother, and converses about something he has already tuned out. He stares at you, all properly cleaned and groomed--he wants to roll his eyes. He hasn’t encountered many girls his age before, but he knows they were all too, too girly.

“Katsuki, why don’t you show Miss (l/n) around the gardens outside? I am sure she will appreciate the sights,” His mother gently shoves him closer to where you stood, grinning triumphantly and looking at your mother with a wink. “Now, friend, we have an entire tray of biscuits calling our name--shall we?” 

The adults walk off to the parlor, and Katsuki knows they’ll have a perfect view of the gardens from there. Just great, he has to continue to pretend to be nice. 

He saunters away, yet doesn’t make it more than three steps as he realizes you still haven’t moved. How bothersome. 

“Are you coming, or not?”

“Oh, um, of course!”

Katsuki actually rolls his eyes this time, all while struggling to keep his hands from entering his pockets--he can still feel the welts of his mother’s fan as she reminded him of how improper he acted. You keep quiet, and he supposes it’s better than you talking his ear off like the other boys from his school. 

The garden was nothing new to him, the same flowers and exotic plants, perfectly trimmed and on display. The marble fountain in the center of it all was always a fan favorite--even if he could care less about the structure. 

Despite his feelings, he noticed that your wide eyes have settled upon it so he brings you close enough to view the detailed carvings along the sides. 

“It’s beautiful!”

“I suppose.”

He huffs, sitting on the ledge as you continue to admire it. The longer you stare, the more aggravated he grows, and he can’t help as he stands to shout for your attention.

“Hey! It’s just a fountain--Woah!”

Katsuki wasn’t expecting you to be leaning down to touch the water so close to where he was, so the moment he stands and turns he ends up bumping into you--sending you straight into the water. 

The fountain isn’t deep, so you sit up without a struggle, but you are soaked. Your hair is ruined, and you spit water from your mouth. Rubbing your eyes of stray droplets, Katsuki winces at the fact you will start to cry at any moment--as well as the hits he’ll receive later, although he tries not to think about it.

“I, what were you, are you okay? Why were you so close to me?”

He grabs you by the arms and tries to pull you out, sending nervous glances to the large windows to his left. He can tell you’re still processing what happened; you’re rapidly blinking and proving to be of little help as Katsuki drags you out and plops you to sit on the edge--much to his annoyance. 

When your (e/c) eyes bore into his own, he knows this is it; this is the moment where you’ll start to throw a fit, and he’ll never hear the end of it.

“Don’t cry, for the love of--”

Instead of tears, he is granted with laughter that thoroughly confuses him--why were you laughing? You chortle loudly, gripping the sides of your stomach and leaning forward. Katsuki doesn’t know whether he should steady you or step back, so he just stays still, watching as your body shakes and shivers from the breeze--yet you still laugh.

“What, just what is so funny?” Exasperation tugs his lips downward, and you struggle to contain yourself.

“Sorry. I just can’t help it--I, I fell into a fountain! Mother is going to be furious.”

You stand, and Katsuki jumps back to avoid getting wet; your skirts are weighed down by the water, and it falls to the ground around your shoes. Although, it doesn’t matter much, seeing as your shoes are also soaked straight through. His eyes narrow and his mouth twists in amusement, he struggles to contain his own laughter at the full sight of you.

“You look like a wet cat.”

“I feel like a wet cat.”

“You aren’t going to cry, are you?”

“Cry?” You tilt your head in confusion, grasping the ends of your dress to ring out as much water as you could. “Why would I cry?”

“Because, um, well, because you fell?”

“So?”

“So now your dress is ruined. Don’t you girls care about stuff like that?”

“It will dry, won’t it?” You shrug, grinning brightly up at him. “Besides, these dresses are pretty itchy.”

Huh. You were strange--especially for a girl. 

-----

“Katsu!” 

He turns at the sound of your voice, watching as you hike your skirts up and run towards him. He faintly hears your mother yelling at you to behave, to act more proper, but you pay no heed as you continue on. You’re out of breath by the time you reach him, yet you’re still grinning wide, with a missing tooth on display.

“You’re not supposed to run like that--you act like such a boy sometimes.”

He has to look away as you puff your cheeks in protest, smoothing your dress down as if it would help. You were awfully annoying. 

“How mean of you Katsu, I came for you to be nice and play with me, not for you to be grumpy.”

“I am not grumpy!”

“You are too!”

Katsuki huffs, flicking your forehead before running further off into the woodland behind the manor. The yelp of aggravation causes him to laugh, and he turns back to see you chasing after him--the bottom of your dress collecting dust and you weren’t upset about it. 

Good, he didn’t want to be friends with a girl who was fussy and cry-babyish after all. 

-----

“Katsu!”

He holds in a sigh, seeing the table you have set before you--the same table you have been decorating differently for the last week in fact. Why did you have to do this anyway? What was the point of setting a table--didn’t the maids do that? Who cares what it looks like, it was just for gossiping ladies wasn’t it? 

He spots another occupant and the table, and this time he cannot hold in his sigh of annoyance. Of course, Izuku had to be here, the little wimp never knew how to say no to you.

“Katsu, come sit and enjoy some tea!”

Your smile was small--formal--and Katsuki found the sight rather gross. Still, he sat down. Not because you asked him to, he was just tired after having to come all the way to your home. That was all.

“Good to see you, Katsuki!” Izuku waves shyly.

“I would say likewise, but it would not be gentlemanly of me to be dishonest.”

“Behave.”

He rolls his eyes at your input, leaning back in the chair as you come close and pour him a cup of tea. He observes your side profile, the way your brows--that used to be furrow in concentration as you struggled not to spill a drop--now stay smooth and worry-free. You’re graceful and poised, something he wasn’t used to. You catch him looking through the corner of your eye, and you smile sweetly at him. He quickly huffs, looking away annoyed.

Girls were so weird--you were so weird.  

Katsuki watches as you gracefully take your place in the chair across from him, conversing in idle chatter with Izuku about who knows what. You sat straight, arms perfectly crossed over your lap, with a flawlessly pressed gown, and not a hair out of place. 

“I just feel as if something is missing from the décor, don’t you agree?”

“I believe it is lovely, (y/n).” 

“Well, thank you Izu, but I really believe there is just, just something that I need to add.”

You sigh, face screwing up as you ponder, and Katsuki acknowledges that he prefers your face this way. Less put together, more you. It’s easier to make fun of that way, of course.

“Your face will be stuck if you continue looking in such an ugly manner.”

“Oh hush you fiend, I do not need beauty tips from someone whose frown lines are more prominent than his fathers.”

Katsuki exhales quickly, amused at your quick wit. 

Time passes and they leave you, Katsuki sending Izuku off with a warning of his victory at the next fencing match. Yet before he can fully leave your tea room, he glances back and watches as you continue to fret over whatever it could be you need for your final table piece. He turns away before you notice, heading home, and finds himself in his own mother’s parlor. 

Her spread is just about the same as any other boring table, and yet set in the center was a large bouquet of her favorite flowers. Petals decorated around the tins and plates that would have held the food. Scoffing in distaste he leaves for his room, muttering how boring and stupid tea parties were and how he would never understand. 

On his walk home after school the next day, he takes a long way home through a field of flora. He didn’t want to go home right away, that was all, and this was the longest route he knew. It wasn’t his fault it was full of flowers, and it certainly wasn’t his fault as he spotted a vibrant shrub of sunset-colored ones that he just had to pick. 

Once inside his home, he mentally cursed as the first person to notice him was no one other than his mother.

“Katsuki, what are those?”

“Flowers mother, of course.”

His tone didn’t go unnoticed, and Lady Bakugou clicked her tongue at his words. 

“For whom are your, of-course-flowers, to go to?”

“No one. I simply wanted them.”

“You simply wanted an alstroemeria--a romance flower?”

“I just wanted them; I do not care what they are.”

“...What an insufferable child.” She dismissed him with a wave.

He holds his tongue, rushing up the stairs and away from her scrutinizing eyes. A breath of relief stops short as she speaks up once more, a teasing tilt to her voice.

“Would you tell Miss (l/n) I say hello whenever you present her your gift? It has been too long.”

Why were all the women in his life so aggravating?

-----

“Katsuki, can you please try to act as if you are entertained?”

“This is the fourth dance today, (y/n), I cannot be any less than indifferent now.”

You both circle each other, the music from the pianist floods the ballroom and he can tell you were counting in your head along to the beat. He brings you back into his arms, and you stare into his eyes, your own swirling with emotion. Katsuki pulls his gaze away, choosing to look around instead; pride puffs his chest as he sees multiple alstroemerias decorating the room. 

“Oh, of course! You must be exhausted--do you want to stop?”

He’s drawn back to your face, and he curses how he is unable to stop sneaking peeks at your pouted lips. He wants to say yes; he wants to tell you how his feet ache, how since he had barely gotten home from his small business trip with his father a mere few hours ago he wants nothing more than to sleep. 

“No. Now continue before I change my mind.”

The smile that stretches across your face is absolutely radiant, and the laugh bubbles from your lips causes his stomach to twist in ways that he cannot explain. 

You really are a strange and aggravating girl--one he can’t appear to say no to.

-----

“Oh Katsuki, it is adorable!”

He watches as you trace a finger along the broaches front, your once sullen mood has now gone at the sight. When he first arrived he didn’t understand why you looked to be so upset, but the moment you realized it was him you had perked up. 

A part of him wishes to believe you were happy for his return, and not just the idea of presents.

The broach pin he had gotten was something he felt as if he needed to have for you; obtaining it on another one of his trips, this one lasting far longer than most. He went away the entire summer, staying in one of his father’s estates in another area he possesses, for educational purposes. As a future Duke, he was constantly thrown around to learn lands, trade, and the people of surrounding areas--especially of the land he will one day inherit. It was rather taxing, boring, and dare he say lonely. 

Katsuki would never admit it out loud, but your presence was quite missed. 

“Of course it is, my taste is impeccable after all.”

“Yes, the only man who would see the beauty in a woman’s broach.” You laugh at your own taunt, and Katsuki clicks his tongue as he pretends to try and snatch it back.

“I will just keep this then if I am the only one who sees such beauty.”

“No, I am merely jesting! Please, I love it.”

You bring it close to your chest, holding it carefully as if it were the most precious thing you owned, and his heartbeat quickened. He knew that wasn’t true--you may not have been as high in social status as he was, but being the daughter of a Viscount meant you still had luxury in life. As well as being the only daughter of your line meant you were pampered, downright spoiled, and yet you were anything but a pompous brat; you were wonderful, kind, caring, and too sweet for your own good. 

“I really do love it Katsuki. Thank you. I’ll wear it always, it looks just like my favorite flower! My everlasting alstroemeria.”

Maybe you were too sweet for his own good. 

-----

“What are you two doing here?”

Katsuki stands beside Izuku as they both find you in the drawing-room, accompanied by your mother. You both stand and bow, and he and Izuku dismiss the gesture--they are both too familiar to want to be treated with such formalities behind closed doors. Your mother allows the boys to take her spot, and she moves to the other side of the room to grant some privacy. 

“Well, we are all to be busy this season--you especially of course.” Izuku starts, soft eyes not going unnoticed by Katsuki. 

He does all he can to not push him away from your side.

“We came here to wish you luck, you are sure to need it with all this prepping you must endure.” Katsuki sighs, leaning back tiredly as if it was him to be affected.

Your laugh lights a fire within him, and he can’t remember when it had switched from an annoyance to being angelic music.

“You both are too kind--I shall survive, hopefully.” 

You fall into easy conversation, and Katsuki remains reserved to observe. 

You’ve grown throughout the years, no longer were you the wild child who would ambush him with sticks in the grove behind his home. No longer were you the young girl who would step on his toes purposely when he would verbally complain. No, now you were a bewitching young woman, one with an enticing face, enthralling wit, and a beauty like no other. 

If you weren’t the top choice for the season, he would be surprised--no doubt would the rest of the male occupants; it was something he was dreading. The chance to court you would be more difficult with the more callers you had and while he didn’t want to use his status as a flaunting point, he would hope it would keep others at bay until he could propose.

However, no one was as big of a threat as the green-eyed dimwit he called a friend. Katsuki was no fool, he knew Izuku cared for you just as much as he did. How could they not become so enchanted with you? 

You were perfect.

“I am not looking forward to all the dancing, it is different than dancing at home with one of you.”

“Well, you must promise to save a dance for me then.”

“Oh?” You raise a brow, attention focused on him. That’s what he liked to see.

“Yes, you must. I have been subjected to your torture for years now--I have to see if you can hold your composure while under that type of pressure.”

You snort, an extremely unladylike mannerism that he held endearment for, and roll your eyes at his taunts. 

“Well then it is a promise, I shall always make sure to save you a dance,” you turn from him to the other and the illusion of being alone with you vanishes, “the both of you.”

Yes, if there was one person he’d have to watch for, it was going to be Izuku.

-----

“My Lord, this is my daughter, Miss Tokage.”

Katsuki merely greets her respectfully, not fully present in the conversation as he waits for your arrival.

When you do arrive, it is like time had stood still--no one else’s presence mattered except yours. You were ethereal; your seamstress having outdone herself as you wore a gown that did nothing but accentuate all the right traits. Your makeup--while you never needed it--brought out the color of your eyes and the temptations of your lips. Your hair was adorned with alstroemerias of the same beautiful sunset gold as he had brought to you all those years ago, and the urge to propose to you then and there was extremely difficult to hold back.

As his feet began to move toward you, a body blocked the way.

“My Lord, my dances for tonight are free--if you wish to occupy them, that is.”

His eyes flicker back to you, seeing you hanging off your mother’s arm as another suitor reaches you first. As long as it wasn’t Izuku…

He catches his mothers gaze, and she too looks as if she wants for him to turn the girl away. Yet she offers a half-heartfelt smile, and he feels his resolve crumble. That's right, Miss. Tokage was a very prestigious daughter, and it would be a good match. But that's not what he wanted--he wanted you.

He swallows down a sigh, accepting her offer as he writes his name on the first dance and pulls her onto the floor. Dancing with her is much different than with you; she's not the right height, she feels all too wrong in his arms, and the little conversation there is, is dull. Sure, he is probably the cause of that, as he merely offers polite responses and nothing more. He searches for you again, and finds you standing off to the side--the one and only Izuku standing next to you. 

The song ends, and Katsuki means to take his leave to head to you but this girl follows him, and he tries to explain as peacefully as he can that he is no longer interested before he gives up and makes his leave anyways. 

Katsuki searches the dance floor and sees how Izuku twists you effortlessly, and his anger begins to rise. You both are laughing, as always, and yet Katsuki knew it was different than before. This time, it meant so much more than playful banter between childhood friends. 

Without another thought, he pushes himself in your direction with a simple,

“Pardon--”

Your wide eyes fall upon him and his heart stutters.

“Miss (l/n), a dance? A real dance, anyways. Seeing as the ever graceful Izuku may as well have two left feet.”

“Oh, most amusing, Katsuki.”

When you look away, his smirk loses its humor and grows tighter; Izuku’s eyes darken in return. His arm tightens around you, and Katsuki has to bite his tongue lest he say something he’d regret.

When you take his outstretched hand, he calms; you’re the only one who could soothe his soul with something as simple as your touch. He spins you round, before pulling you close--this is what he needed. You fit perfectly into his arms, there was no way anyone could ever replace you.

“How are you this evening, (y/n)?”

“Very well, My Lord.”

Katsuki doesn’t know what to make of your neutral face--normally at these events you joke and tease him, talking the night away, uncaring of the scrutinizing eyes of the guests. Now, it was as if you were truly strangers, speaking formally as any other person would.

After a bit more coaxing, you relax, and even let out an adorable snigger--he bites his lip to hold back a smile. There was the girl he loved.

“May I say, your hair looks lovely tonight--alstroemerias again? It suits you.”

He spins you, slightly longer than before just so he could control his flaming cheeks, and holds you closer when you spin back. All of his life he never understood why he cared for you so much; you were some strange girl his mother had made him escort around until you were so much more. 

He yearned for your quips and teases, he ached for your time and presence, he so desperately desired to spend every moment by your side. You understood him like no other, conversations with you were never dull, always full of life and warm--and he longed to converse with you until he grew old and unable. 

To him you were his path to true happiness, and Katsuki wanted nothing more than to be truly happy. Yet, your happiness mattered more; Katsuki would do anything to ensure it. 

He bowed when the dance finished, and his eyes looked up and locked onto green. Izuku stood off in the crowd, bottom lip caught between teeth before his attention flickered elsewhere. Maybe this was the opportunity he needed to take, to propose here before anyone else could. But fear kept his mouth from moving, what if you were to say no? What if you never spoke to him again? He could let you go if he had to, but did he really have the strength to never be able to be near you again? 

“Thank you for the dance, My Lord. I hope you enjoy the rest of your night.” 

Confusion tore him from his thoughts, words caught in his throat as he watched you hastily walk away. Your tone was sharp, words final as you disappeared in the crowd.

When his eyes flickered to where Izuku once stood, he found that he too was nowhere to be seen.

-----

Katsuki Bakugou has never felt quite this hurt before; the feeling of his heart clenching in pain is something entirely new to him. His body is numb, his hands shake, and the feeling of drowning makes it difficult to breathe. 

He is stuck in place, watching as another puts a flower behind your ear and brings your hand up to his lips. He cannot move as you grow shy, basking in the presence of another man's soft gaze.  

“Izuku…”

“If the Lady is willing to accept, may I be so bold as to call upon her tomorrow?”

“Of course, My Lord.”

That punch to the gut is what it takes for him to come back down to reality, and he quickly turns on his heel and leaves. He aches in silence, leaving the ballroom without any goodbyes, blowing right past the juniper maiden who just couldn’t take the hint. 

None of that was important, he was too focused on his need for a breath as his chest constricts with the lack of oxygen. His gasps ring out into the empty night and he’s forced to learn against a marble pillar lest he falls. 

To be reduced to such a pathetic state angered him, but it was nothing compared to the anger he felt at his so-called childhood friend. 

The anger soon melted into even more pain, and Katsuki clenched his jaw at the way his throat constricted. He knew from the beginning he hadn’t much of a chance, he knew Izuku would be his biggest competition, and yet, there wasn’t one at all. If Izuku won your hear--who was he to argue that?

And so, he knew that nothing will ever be as good as it once was, as you were, nothing will be worth all his effort like you were, no one will ever come close to you. 

But if you were happy, he could pretend to be.

For you, his everlasting alstroemeria.

[cloud9in]

Animal Control  (Mc x Poppy)

Summary: Bea decides to buy Poppy a gerbil but it doesn’t go well...A whole bunch of chaos ensues and maybe some hands thrown? Includes Chloe and Veronica. 

Notes: Yeah this is the most chaotic thing my mind has come up with. I hope you enjoy and laugh. It’s FLUFF, and a little angst.

Word Count: 2.4k 

Tags: @samanthadalton @clowneryme @somewillwin @baexpoppy @zigxryanz @uselesslesbianfr @aleiramacaii (sorry if I missed you or if you want to be added to Poppy tags lemme know)

*NO GERBILS WERE HARMED IN THE MAKING*

WHAT. IS. THAT?!  BEA HUGHES GET IT OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!!”

It would be an understatement if I said that the whole world could hear Poppy right now.

Bea, wanting to be a good girlfriend, went out and bought a special gift for the blonde. But it definitely got a reaction she wasn’t hoping for. 

Bea watched as Poppy jumped onto the bathroom sink as a little critter ran across the floor. It wasn’t really a critter though, just a cute little fat animal thing that Bea thought Poppy would gush over. “CHLOE CALL ANIMAL CONTROL”

....she wasn’t hoping for that response either. 

“Pops! Okay okay I’ll get him it’s okay. He won’t hurt you. Well-“

“Well?!” 

“Well he might give you a little nibble BUT that’s COMPLETELY normal and-“

“BEA!”

“POPPY!”

 Their voices started to boom through the Zeta House as Veronica and Chloe rushed up the stairs and straight into the commotion. The scene before them was utterly shocking in a sense. The blonde stood on the counter, her foot nearly in the sink as she hugged the wall and squeezed her eyes shut...and seemed to be praying to herself? Bea, on the other hand, stood on all 4s as she looked under the cabinet. The Zeta girls glance at each other and then back at the couple as they try to process what was happening. “....So is either one of you going to explain or are we going to-“

 Bea jumped at the new voice in the room, hitting her head on the edge of the cabinet. “Ow!” Veronica bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing as Chloe turned away to hide the grin on her face. Poppy opened her eyes, too distracted to notice Bea wince and rub her head. She peers around the bathroom, breathing a sigh of relief when she doesn’t spot the little gremlin crawling about. The blonde notices her friends standing by the door and her face flushes impossibly red as they watch her from down below. Real nice Poppy, they definitely envy you right now. Is that a new yoga pose you’re doing right now? I don’t think your foot belongs there. 

 She clears her throat and steps down from the counter. “Chloe didn’t you hear me? I said to call animal control there is a rabid pest in the house.” Poppy shoots Bea an annoyed look, and all the brunette could do was stand there and shrug her shoulder sheepishly. Poppy didn’t expect Chloe to full on panic but now there was another blonde running around the room hysterically. Chloe shrieks and whispers to herself, “oh my god a pest?! What if it lays eggs, or what if people hear about this?” She turns towards Poppy and gasps, “do we have to call the terminator?!” Bea blinks in confusion until it hits her, “termin-? wha...OH!” She spins until she faces her girlfriend, “NO! Don’t you dare call the exterminator! It’s a gerbil for crying out loud, it doesn’t deserve that-” Chloe begins to laugh and points an accusing finger at Bea, “it wouldn’t be here in the first place if you stopped coming in here smelling like a farm.”

 The brunette does a double take at the dumb blonde, “EXCUSE ME?!” She takes a deep breath and pinches the top of her nose to calm down, “...Chloe do you even know what a gerbil is?”

 “Oh I’ll tell you what it is! GONE! It’s leaving now Bea.” Poppy stomps in between the two girls with a deadly expression. Poppy was definitely not going to hold either one of them back if they started fighting. The hell does she look like doing that? But they were definitely not going to damage anything in her room so enough was enough. Bea glances at Poppy and can feel her starting to get more pissed off. She should stop, she should definitely stop. Maybe because she doesn’t actually know where said gerbil is…and Poppy would erase her entire existence off of this planet if Bea ever told her that. 

 Chloe looks over at Bea and can tell that she’s starting to back down. “Oooh aren’t you a nice pet, obeying your girlfriend. Where did all of your self respect go?” A cat-like grin slowly appears on the blonde’s face as Bea’s jaw slackens in shock. 

“You’re one to talk bitch! How about I get rid of you while I’m at it.”

“Oh bring it pig girl!-”

 Both girls close in on each other as Poppy is sent sprawling back on her ass. She sits there in complete shock and blinks a couple times to refocus.

 Veronica, still standing by the door, takes no effort in trying to stop the cat fight happening in front of her. In fact she sneaks away to grab her phone and starts filming the whole thing. Perfect for some blackmail later. And well she could probably get paid a lot to sell this video. Thank you Poppy for your glorious last name. 

 Okay now you’re probably wondering where the gerbil comes in to play? We’re getting there, just wait…

 Bea and Chloe tumble into Poppy’s walk in closet as one tries to gain the upper hand. To Bea’s shocking surprise, the blonde knows how to throw hands. But the brunette more so wanted to pin her down instead of actually hitting her, she knows that won’t end well for either of them. 

 Poppy stares at Veronica filming them in all sorts of angles. How did she even get up on that shelf?  She rolls her eyes with irritation, already feeling a headache forming. The screaming match on the other side of the room was not helping either. All the blonde wanted was to have a peaceful spa day and try her new Glossier vitamin skincare mask, and maybe have a nice lunch with Bea. This was definitely going to leave some wrinkles. Poppy sighed heavily and tried to stand up, but a flash of little legs ran across the floor a few feet from where she sat, and she felt her heart stop. Poppy shut her eyes, hoping and praying that it isn’t what she thinks it is, and to her awful surprise it was most definitely the gerbil. One second of silence passes before Poppy lets out the most horrific, high pitched scream known to man. It was serious enough that Veronica stepped down from the shelf and Bea loosened her grip on Chloe’s hair. The adrenaline hit Poppy so hard as she sprinted out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind her, and lunging into the closet where the other girls stood like deers in headlights. Bea quickly approaches her girlfriend, partly terrified and partly concerned. 

 “I just saw it! The- the fiend. It’s in the bathroom still. Just get rid of it Bea please..”

 Poppy cowers in the corner trying to cover herself with faux fur coats and whatever she could find that makes her feel less exposed. The girls just stood and watched her, all sharing confused glances. Poppy loved animals, but she never signed up for rodents as well. This meant a serious talk with Bea after everything settled down. 

The brunette sighs with a little bit of relief at Poppy’s words, “Oh atleast you found it, I thought I lost him for good..”

 The blonde turns so fast it almost makes Bea dizzy. Her face goes pale as Poppy doesn’t break eye contact with her, “ You...what?! You lost it?!” 

 “Poppy that’s really not what we should focus on right now-”

 “If you couldn’t tell...I am losing my mind right now Bea.” She gestures wildly to the mismatched outfit on her body and her tangled locks.  “If we don’t capture this animal and RETURN. IT.” She takes one menacing step towards everyone, “none of you will leave alive, got it?” 

 Okay Poppy is scary, i’ll admit it. 

 Bea exhales nervously and looks at Chloe, and Chloe looks at Veronica who is holding a camera in her face, completely unfazed. Chloe scoffs with disbelief, swatting the phone out of her face, “Really V?! This is not the time for that.”

 The vlogger just kept filming with a shameless smirk painted on her face, “Or what? You’ll fight me too?”

 Before anything could progress again, Bea intervenes even while trying to catch her breath. “Okayyy, lets not do this. Can we just work together and catch the gerbil so Poppy can act normal again?” The brunette laughs internally because she knows that her girlfriend is probably staring directly into her soul, but she doesn’t look. She could not imagine herself fighting Poppy, even though they technically did in the water fountain once, but that was more like a fever dream and she found it kinky, anyways… Bea took the lead and headed straight for the door to the bathroom, preparing herself for the quick little monster. 

“Do we not have a secure plan for this? Just gonna open the door and hope for the best?” Chloe huffs out. And if Bea was being honest, that was the most sensible thing she had said all day.That girl was full of surprises. “I’m not scared of him like ya’ll. He is just very quick and I don’t want to lose him again.” 

 “Listen, I don’t care what you guys are or aren’t. I am still standing by what I said earlier...and I guess I will help as well.” It was already embarrassing how Poppy had acted before, but the blonde wanted to save the last of her dignity and so she stood in the far back, offering to be the last minute captor if anything went wrong. Bea was grateful that she didn’t appear to be very mad at her, but she wasn’t a fool. Still, it was better to be in trouble than dead, in some ways. The brunette braced herself and counted to three before swinging the door open and lunging to the floor immediately. Too bad the gerbil was too quick for Bea and it ran between her legs. She grunted with frustration before tripping backwards and knocking right into Chloe, who fell back onto Veronica like a freaking domino effect. The room erupted into screams as Poppy unwillingly ran forward and grabbed the rodent by its tail and lifted it into the air, hundreds of feets away from her body of course. “I got it! I got it!...Now what do I do, Bea?!!” 

 “Okay! okay calm down...and slowly bring it towards me. That’s it you got it..” Bea cautiously steps towards Poppy and holds her hands out to catch it if things went awry. Poppy stood frozen with fear and shock, still not registering that there was a gerbil scrambling wildly and hanging from her fingers but she pushed the dread away and successfully placed it into Bea’s hands. Mission freaking accomplished. The room visibly sighed with relief after Bea placed the animal back into his cage but Poppy could only stare at her fingers in horror. She’d need to exfoliate it maybe twice, get a new manicure, a skin peel maybe, or just some new skin honestly. 

 ***

After the chaos had settled down and Poppy finally scrubbed herself clean, she walked back into her room and saw Bea lazily playing with the gerbil in his cage. If she wasn’t so creeped out by the rodent, the blonde would almost think this view was very sweet. Bea noticed her immediately and sat up with a guilty expression. “Pops...If I had known that you’d react like that I would have never even thought about buying him. It was a stupid decision really and I should’ve made sure you were okay with it first.” There goes Bea again with her puppy eyes and charming choice of words. Poppy sighs internally, already feeling like an asshole. She sits next to Bea and rubs her knuckles soothingly, “Well yeah it was pretty stupid…” The brunette raises an eyebrow amusingly. “But...you couldn’t have known, and I thought it was really sweet that you’d want to surprise me like that. Usually I’m the one buying gifts for others.” Bea sits up straighter feeling a little overwhelmed but wraps her arms around Poppy’s waist, leaning her head on her shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence until the brunette spoke up again, her voice nearly a whisper, “...does this mean we get to keep him?”

 The blonde scoffs loudly but glances over at the cage, her eyes softening just a little bit. She looks down at her girlfriend who seems to have been watching her this whole time. Poppy feels her face start to heat up but for all the right reasons. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to having one of...those. But if you really want me to try then I will.” It was definitely worth it to see Bea’s face beam with joy, she kisses Poppy on the cheek with excitement, “Babe you won’t regret it! And.. if it doesn’t work out then we can always give him a better home okay?” The blonde watches her girlfriend’s eyes sparkle brightly and she can’t help but mirror her smile,“Okay”.

 Bea reaches for the cage and sets it on her lap. She doesn’t take the gerbil out just yet, wanting Poppy to get comfortable with it in her presence. She watches different stages of emotions make its way across the blonde’s face before she relaxes. Poppy looks at her and speaks gently, “have you decided on a name yet?”

 “Well I was hoping we could come up with one together, but after what happened today maybe he can be called….terminator?” 

 Poppy rolls her eyes so far back but lets out a soft laugh, her hair falling softly onto her cheek. When she doesn’t feel Bea brush the strands away she does it herself and watches as Bea observes the little creature. “Okay I change my mind, you’re giving him more attention than me.” The brunette looks up with a sheepish smile but can only stare at Poppy’s loving but teaseful gaze. Of course she has to be a smartass though, “actually did you know that gerbils require your attention on a daily basis, and can develop strong relationships with their owners? Almost sounds like you.” Bea feels the punch in her side before she can see it and pretends to howl in pain. It doesn’t seem to faze poppy though as she smirks at her victim, “keep that up and you will be sleeping in the cage with him.”

 “Oh so you want to lock me up huh?” Bea bites her lip mischievously as she leans into kiss Poppy. Before things can heat up they hear a groan coming from the door. “Ughhh! Of course it had to turn sexual.” Veronica stood with her phone in her hand filming, and a hand over her eyes.

 “VERONICA!”