#i am not just a normal amount of tired i have been on the verge of shutdown since at least mid semester hanging on by a fucking

[fappellmoan]

things have not been normal. im so tired.

[potatoplace]

So Long, London

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

the 1 (part 1) | betty (part 2)| next part

the 1 masterlist (alt endings) | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: An illness spreads through Velaris, primarily impacting new mothers and their young, and you and your child are not spared. Azriel continues to make questionable choices, even as your life lays in the balance.

Warnings: suicide attempt mentions, illness leading to disability, infidelity, Azriel is as expected for this series...

Words: ~5.6k

Author's Note: So I reaaally wanted to get this out in one part, but I have cute fluffy plans for Reader's future in the Day Court. This should be the last of the full on angst in this ending of 'the 1,' after this installment it should be primarily happy times! Also... Can I just say how sorry I am to Azriel? Because in this series I cannot seem to give him one redeeming quality. He's just a total piece of shit the entire time. Aaaanways. I hope you guys enjoy this part!

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🤍💙

It was nearly eight months since Nova’s birth when a mysterious illness ravaged Velaris, primarily effecting young children and their mothers.

And you and your precious baby girl were no exception.

Nova had stopped sleeping for longer than an hour, and refusing all solid foods. She was barely taking the milk you tried to ply her with, her tiny mouth refusing to suckle on the bottle you offered her.

You weren’t feeling much better, and by the time you managed to struggle your way to Madja’s clinic, you were on the verge of passing out.

Your mate was nowhere to be found, and no amount of you tugging on the frail bond summoned him to your side, brought him to comfort you and help care for your baby.

You just barely made it inside the door, Madja’s worried face greeting you as she took in your weakened state, the crying babe in your arms, the lack of your mate by your side. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and just before you fell to the floor Madja was able to take Nova from your arms.

When you woke later, your head felt stuffed with cotton, your lungs and throat burning in pain.

It almost felt like the bond was broken again.

“Oh, thank the mother Y/N, you’re awake,” Feyre’s worried voice said, a cool hand running across your forehead.

You cracked your eyes open, squinting at the light above you.

You were back in your room in the River House.

“Nova, is she-” you started to ask, attempting to sit up, but Feyre shushed you and gently pushed you back into the bed.

“Nova is fine, she’s recovering well so far, and she’s even taking soft foods again. You got her here in time,” Feyre said softly, and you let out a relieved breath. Nova is safe. “Madja managed to make a medicine to combat the illness, though it appears to be more effective in children. I was more worried for you, if I’m being honest…”

Feyre’s eyes were watery as she looked down at you, and the situation was so similar to after you had attempted to take your life, the only change being that your other two sisters were missing.

Not for long, though, as your sisters entered the room in the next minute, Nova in their arms.

She looked to be doing so much better than before, her cheeks their normal rosy red and her cute little lips curved up into a smile, which only widened once she saw you, her beautiful hazel eyes growing larger. Her tiny hands reached out for you, wings fluttering as she tried to leave Elain’s arms.

“Can I- is it safe for me to hold her?” You asked, hoping more than ever before that you would be able to. The last time you had held her, she had been so sick, you needed to feel her healthy in your arms again. You pushed yourself up to lay against the headboard, surprised at how tired you were from that action alone. Your lungs and throat felt like they were on fire with each breath, and Feyre quickly gave you a sip of cold water to soothe it.

“I don’t see why not, she won’t be able to get sick again with the medicine still being administered,” Madja’s strong voice said as she entered the room behind your sisters, making her way to your side. Feyre scooted back to give her space to examine you, and Elain quickly placed your precious little girl in your arms.

And everything felt right again, her adorable face staring up at you, hands grabbing at your face. Even as your arms ached from the weight of her, you welcomed it as long as you had her.

Your sweet, guiding light. Your reason for being, ever since you had fallen pregnant.

“Do you know where Azriel is?” You asked quietly as Madja waved her hands over you, examining you with her magic.

You could practically feel the anger radiating off of Nesta at the question, and she snarled, “No. In the night and day that you’ve been unconscious, the stupid bat hasn’t managed to show his face here once. You would think that his mate and child being sick would warrant an appearance from whatever bullshit he’s busy with.”

You sighed, but nodded your head. “It’s alright, I’m sure it’s something important. Nova is the most important thing to him in the world.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and scoffed, but Elain placed a gentle hand on your leg.

“I’m sure you’re right, Y/N. And I’m just so happy that you and Nova are doing better, we were so worried for you,” she said softly, tears in her eyes. “I can’t stand the idea of losing either of you.”

You smiled at Elain. The two of you had gotten nearly as close as you and Feyre in the past two years since… Everything happened, and you were delighted to be her confidant as she pursued the bond with Lucien, loving to hear about how much they actually had in common, including their love for nature.

It was so nice to hear about a happy courtship for you sister, one that you had nothing to be jealous about.

Except… Maybe the way that Lucien looked at her, like she was the sun that his world revolved around.

Azriel had never looked at you like that, not even during the mating frenzy…

You looked back at Nova, her hands now tangled in your hair and a beaming smile on her face, chubby cheeks nearly covering her eyes.

Nova was your sun, that was certain.

“Well, Y/N, I’m going to advise that you stay on bedrest for the next few weeks, I want you to fully recover from this. Your lungs have been damaged by the illness, and I want to prevent any more form happening,” Madja said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

“Damage?” Feyre asked before you could.

Madja sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid there will be long-lasting damage to your lungs, Y/N. You may no longer be able to run, or walk for long distances. You should be able to carry on with most of your everyday tasks,” she added, as if to console you.

“But… I may never be able to run after my daughter?” You pondered quietly, the thought breaking your heart as you looked at her.

“I’m afraid that might be the case. But, once you’re fully recovered from the illness itself, we can start building your stamina up again. I do hope that you’ll be able to play with Nova however you want,” Madja answered, giving a soft smile to your cooing child.

You nodded your head, attempting to process the information. “Will Nova have the same problems?”

“No, the medicine was effective enough to stop any damage from occurring, and you got her here before she was truly in trouble. You did an amazing job of taking care of her, Y/N.”

Tears pricked your eyes at her kind words.

You had kept her safe.

But as you clutched Nova to your chest, your arms started to tire, shaking slightly.

Feyre, eyes tracking your every movement, noticed. “Can I hold my sweet niece?” She asked, and you reluctantly passed her over, though you were grateful for Feyre giving you an out.

“I’ll have you take this medicine once every four hours, and Feyre can charm the clock to ring for you so you can rest as much as you need,” Madja said as she placed a bottle on your nightstand, next to your water glass.

“That won’t be necessary, at least one of us will be with her at all times,” Nesta said, a hand squeezing one of yours. You turned to look at her, and you were surprised to see a hint of a smile on her face as she looked at you.

“Thank you, Nes,” you whispered. “So I just… Lay here?”

“You’re welcome to do anything that doesn’t require you leaving the bed, so anything like reading, knitting, or sewing would be fine, I suppose. Just make sure you get plenty of sleep, alright?” You nodded your head, and Madja gave you a warm smile in return. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair for now, but I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you again."

And then you were left with your sisters and Nova, who was currently playing with Feyre’s necklace, sticking it in her mouth and sucking on the edge of the moon shaped pendant.

“Feyre, has Rhys had any luck finding Azriel?” Elain asked after a few minutes of all of you staring at Nova, each minute more adorable than the last, in your opinion.

“No, Rhys said his mental walls are still impenetrable without hurting him, but he’s doing his best to track him down,” Feyre said quietly.

You knew where he was.

Or, at least, you had a good idea.

Your mate, your husband had a… Habit… Of spending the night at other female’s homes.

Especially since Nova was born.

It had never lasted past the morning, though.

“It’s fine, he’ll show up at some point,” you said with a sad smile, locking your eyes onto Nova. “Could you get in bed with me FeyFey? That way we can cuddle Nova together.”

“Of course, sissy. Nova missed you, even just overnight. She’s such a momma’s girl,” Feyre cooed as she crawled under the covers with you, laying Nova across her chest so she was looking at you. “I hope my little one is as attached to me when they grow up.”

“Oh, you know that will happen FeyFey. There’s no way that little baby won’t absolutely adore you from birth, with how wonderful you are with Nova,” you assured her, bringing a hand up to caress Nova’s face.

“I agree with you, Y/N, you and Rhys will be such perfect parents. Just look at how the both of you are handling your pregnancy so far!” Elain said excitedly, crawling onto the foot of the bed. “And I can only hope that if Lucien and I have children, that I can be as amazing a mother as you are, Y/N. You make it look so easy, and Nova is so perfect.”

You blushed, though it was hardly noticeable with how warm your cheeks already were. “Thank you, ‘Lainey. I know you’ll be a great mother, you always seemed to have the most motherly instincts.”

Elain blushed lightly and rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, it will all start with Lucien and I agreeing to get married and mated fully. But that seems like it’s just around the corner, and I really hope it is. I just know he would be a wonderful father,” she said dreamily.

“Cassian would be good father, I think. Though I’m… Not sure that I would be a suitable mother,” Nesta admitted quietly, crawling under the covers on your other side.

“Oh, nonsense Nes. You’ll be a great mother, too. I didn’t think that I would be the best mother, either, but all it really takes is seeing their face that first time. The first little blink, seeing their eye color, getting to smell that sweet baby smell… Every little moment is so special, you never want it to end. You don’t think you’ll be good at it, Nes, but you will be wonderful. I know you will.”

Nesta leaned into you, her face against your shoulder. You could feel her smile, even as she tried to hide it. “Thank you, munchkin.”

“‘Lainey, get up here. It’s not the same without you snuggled up with us,” you demanded, patting the space next to Feyre.

“Alright, I’m coming,” she said, rolling her eyes as she got under the covers next to Feyre.

Within a few minutes, after taking your medicine and surrounded by your sisters and your sweet Nova next to you, you fell into a deep sleep.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

“Where were you?!”

“I was busy-”

“Oh? With what? What could be more important than your mate and child being sick?! What could be so important you couldn’t answer your High Lord and Lady within an hour?! Let alone twenty four?!”

“They’re sick?!”

“Yes, you fucking imbecile! Why do you think we were constantly trying to reach you?! Why your mate was unconscious?!”

“I don’t know, sometimes she shuts me out-”

“Oh, don’t try that, Azriel. We all know that Y/N is the one who actually cares about the bond, you just saunter around acting like you do while you’re in front of us.”

“Where do you get off talking to me like that?!”

“Where do YOU get off treating our sister like trash?! If you didn’t want the fucking bond, why-”

“Enough! That is enough from the both of you. Y/N can hear you,” Rhys hissed, and the yelling quieted.

“Where were you, Azriel?” Feyre’s voice.

“I got caught up with some surveillance-”

“Oh, don’t bullshit us Az. We all know that you weren’t assigned anything last night, or this morning.” Cassian.

Silence.

“You- oh Cauldron, Azriel. I cannot believe you,” Rhys said, disgust dripping from his words. “Go in there and tell her. Or I will.”

“What?” Nesta asked. You could almost picture her looking between the two of them, a thunderous expression on her face. She always did hate being left in the dark.

You, though… You were in broad daylight, already knowing what Azriel had to tell you.

This would be the first true confirmation you had of his infidelity, though.

The door opened, the soft sound of the knob turning, and the gentle way he shut it behind him.

“Y/N, I…”

“Don’t, Azriel. I know.”

Footsteps, so quiet you could barely hear it. “You… You do?”

You sighed, rubbing at your chest to alleviate the pain that came with breathing. “Of course I do. Do you really think that your subtle? That your Spymaster abilities transfer over to your personal life? Because they never have.”

“Why did you stay?”

Another painful sigh. “Nova. She deserves two parents.” And I’ve held onto the foolish hope that you would one day love me for me.

“I am so, so sorry, Y/N. Really, you have no idea how sorry I am. I have been a horrible, awful mate to you, but I will do better. I will do right by you, I swear.”

You looked away from his hazel eyes, those hazel eyes that you love so much.

Because you love him. You do.

“Okay. Go get Nova and come to bed.”

Azriel blinked at you. “Okay.”

And that was that. Azriel got Nova from Elain in the other room, who had taken her away at the first sign of arguing. He peeled off his jacket and kicked off his shoes, then came under the sheets, snuggling up next to you with Nova on his chest, already fast asleep.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

The next month was spent entirely on bed rest, and still in your room at the River House.

Madja has told you it was fine for you to go back to your and Azriel’s home, but… You felt safer, knowing that your sisters were likely to be around, Feyre especially.

Your twin sister had been… Angered, to say the least, at Azriel’s treatment of you, though you’d calmed her to the point that she was mainly only being passive aggressive to your husband.

But once you were able to walk short distances, and manage a few stairs, you felt you had overstayed your welcome at the River House long enough.

Azriel had carried you home, followed closely by Feyre, carrying Nova in a sling across her chest.

You ached to be able to do that again, to be able to confidently hold your child even while standing.

The one good thing about bedrest? It gave you plenty of time to improve your knitting, sewing, and embroidery skills. Nova now had plenty of clothes for the next three months of growth, all fitted to work around her wings while keeping her as covered as possible.

You had already started on a large chest of clothes for Feyre’s expected child, wanting somehow to repay her for all the grief you had put her through over the past two years. And, it was nice to create something and see all of the joyful possibilities that could come with it.

Not that making clothes for Nova didn’t fulfill that for you too, but… It was more the lack of future that you continued to see with Azriel.

You want Nova to have her father in her life, that was true. Azriel was a wonderful father when he wasn’t busy with work or… Other obligations.

But as a mate…? You were left wanting, and hurt.

He did help you with your recovery, making sure that you got enough movement in every day and pushed yourself just enough to keep making progress.

But three months into you being home…

Azriel didn’t make it back in time for bed.

And you knew that you needed to leave.

Elain had come over the next morning, initially to say goodbye. She and Lucien were officially moving to the Day Court that evening, more than ready to start their life together in the court that Lucien would one day rule.

And so, you came up with your plan. Elain went to fetch Feyre and Nesta quickly, knowing that they would need to be told to make the plan a success.

You were on your bed, Nova in your arms when they arrived, bursting through the door frantically.

“You’re leaving?!” Nesta asked in disbelief.

You just nodded your head, running a soothing hand over Nova’s back.

“What prompted this, sissy?” Feyre asked as she sat down next to you.

You knew that they already knew. Or at least heavily suspected.

“Azriel didn’t come home last night… And I can’t do it anymore. Elain said that Lucien already asked Helion if I could join them when they move back when I first got sick and things were… Up in the air a bit.”

Nesta’s change in demeanor was instantaneous, going from disbelieving to thunderous anger, already prepared to burn your mate alive.

Feyre hugged you tightly and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m so sorry, sissy. But if this is what you want, I’ll do anything I can to make it happen. Just promise me you’ll come visit at some point? And of course we’ll come visit you and Nova as much as we can manage.”

“Of course, FeyFey, I wouldn’t dream of staying away forever… Just, if Azriel could… Not be over while I am, that would be appreciated.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll be having a talk with Rhys about possibly banning him from Velaris for all but court duties. I cannot believe that he would do this to you again.”

“Well, we should get packing up the things Azriel won’t notice, Y/N. Just in case he does come home tonight.”

You scoffed quietly. “Unlikely…”

Your sisters helped you pack up most of your and Nova’s clothing, along with all of your crafting supplies. When it became apparent that your mate was out again, tarnishing the bond between you, the four of you quickly finished up, grabbing all of Nova’s favorite things, including the baby blanket that Azriel had painstakingly made for her while you were pregnant.

Nesta stayed behind, having agreed to wait at the town house for Azriel to return, whenever that may be. As disappointed and betrayed as you were by Azriel, you still made her promise to not physically harm him more than a punch to the jaw. Or a kick to the groin.

Feyre winnowed your things first, then Elain, and finally you and Nova, held tightly in your arms as you sped through the fabric of the world for the first time in over two years.

And hopefully the last time, as you had to quickly pass Nova off to Feyre, your lungs on fire from the pressure of winnowing, a long coughing fit overtaking you.

Once you had recovered yourself, you finally had a chance to take in your surroundings.

The hall you had landed in was grand and bright, made of shining marble that reflected the sun's rays beautifully.

In front of you was a male you didn't recognize, but the power rolling off of him in waves and the shine to his skin told you all you needed to know.

Helion, High Lord of Day.

"And you must be Y/N, Elain's sister. Welcome to the Day Court," Helion said warmly as he turned his eyes to you. "And this must be little Nova, Lucien has told me so much about this cutie!"

"Yes, it's lovely to meet you, High Lord. And thank you, truly, for what you've done for us. I... I don't know what I would have done, if not for your generosity."

"Oh, call me Helion, love. And it is no trouble at all, any family of Elain's is family of mine now. Plus... I heard some of what happened, and no person deserves to be treated as you were. I am happy to open my home to you and your little one for as long as you need."

Tears pricked at your eyes against your wishes. "Thank you, Helion."

"Yes Helion, thank you so much for helping our sister out. I am deeply saddened by the fact that I could not provide her with a home where she would be left alone by Azriel," Feyre said, clasping Helion's hands in hers. "And... I know it's a lot to ask, but would you be willing to ban Azriel from your court? I know that as soon as he knows they've left, he'll be out searching for them."

"It would be my pleasure!" Helion replied happily, a bright grin covering his face, radiating happiness like the sun. "I absolutely despise those who do not cherish their loved ones, and if I'm being honest... It would be fun to send him back to the Night Court by the scruff of his neck."

You couldn't help the quiet giggle that left your lips at the mental image you had produced. Nova looked up at you at the sound, her own lips curling up at the edges.

"Well, we should get the three of you settled into your rooms. Feyre, you're welcome to accompany us if you'd like," Helion offered.

Feyre shook her head. "I should be getting back, I still need to explain everything to Rhys. But if it's acceptable, I will visit in the morning and see how the three of you are settling in. Especially you, little Nova," she cooed at your child, who extended her hands to her aunt.

"That would be lovely, Feyre. Send a note ahead of your arrival and I'll make sure there is breakfast waiting for you, or tea if you come a bit later in the morning. Safe travels, High Lady," Helion said. "Oh, and congratulations on your pregnancy! I'll try to keep the news to myself."

Feyre narrowed her eyes playfully at him. "You'd better, High Lord." She turned her eyes to you and Elain, and gave both of you big hugs, and a soft kiss on Nova's forehead. "I'll see the three of you in the morning, alright?"

"We'll see you then, Fey. Winnow safely, okay?" Elain said.

"Oh, I will. Sleep well, and give lots of goodnight kisses to little Nova for me!"

And then she was gone, leaving you in the entrance hall with Helion and Elain.

"Lets get the three of you to your room, hmm? It's been a long night, I'm sure," Helion said softly, and began leading you to your new home for the foreseeable future.

🤍💙🤍💙🤍

Nesta was sat in the darkness of the town house, your former home, stewing in her rage.

How- how had Azriel done this to you again?!

First, you nearly died after he rejected the bond from the overwhelming pain it caused you. And yes, your choice to jump was your own.

But he had promised to you that he would be a good mate. That he would be worthy of you.

Then, you nearly died again while he was nowhere to be found, your child together also gravely ill until Madja had managed to create an effective medicine. And you were permanently harmed by it, barely able to navigate a set of stairs on your own.

And all because he had been out, fucking some other female while he left his mate and child at home during a wave of illness attacking that very population.

To think, you could have been given the help you needed hours earlier, and could possibly have avoided the disability following you now.

And after all that, you had still forgiven him.

You, her sweetest and most caring sister, the one who had never turned her back on any of you. On her.

Nesta knew that she had been an awful person to you, growing up in that rundown shack. And she had ignored you after turning fae, too concerned with her own changed body to bother to apologize to you.

In the time since your fall, Nesta had done her best to do right by you, to be the elder sister that you needed. While she wasn’t the best at comforting others, she was a good listener. She had payed careful attention to you ever since, doing her best to catch any concerning behaviors.

And when you were pregnant with Nova, Nesta had been nearly as protective of you as Azriel, taking the time to walk you to your favorite shops and make sure that you were eating properly.

That should have been her sign that something was wrong.

She should have done something, confronted your bastard of a mate. But there was no changing the past, only the future.

And Nesta would do her damned best at keeping you safe from harm, even a court’s distance away.

And that would start with ripping the Shadowsinger to shreds.

Verbally. You had made her promise to not actually hurt Azriel, beyond a punch to the jaw.

Nesta thought that a punch to the throat would be much more effective. And maybe a knee to the groin.

Just a little something to give him a taste of the pain that you existed in because of his mistakes- if you could even call them that at this point.

No, they seemed to be thought out decisions to betray your trust, to tarnish the bond that he had rejected and forced back to life.

Silver flames threatened to spill from her fingers, ready to burn the male alive, if only she would loose them on him.

Feyre had appeared in the town house about ten minutes after taking you, Elain, and Nova to the Day Court, a soft smile on her face.

“How did it go?”

“Oh, Helion already seems obsessed with Nova, and he was very welcoming to her and Y/N. I think it will be a good change for them. And he agreed to ban Azriel from his court, which solves the possible problem of him tracking them down and trying to force Y/N to come back. I know… I know that she’s serious about this, but she still loves him, even now. I was worried that she might take him back, if he begged enough.”

Nesta scoffed. “Unlikely. The fact that she left without even a note makes me think that she’s done with him, no matter what honeyed words he could try to pour in her ears. The main reasons she stayed after getting sick was to let Nova know her father.”

“I suppose that’s true…” Feyre sighed. “I need to go talk to Rhys, let him know what happened. And honestly, I want to see if he’ll allow me to ban Azriel from Velaris except for his court duties.”

Nesta shook her head, not believing that Rhys would cave to her request. “Good luck with that, Fey.”

“Thanks, Nes. Let me know when the asshole shows up, but I’ll come over as soon as I’m done talking to Rhys.”

“I will.”

Feyre left the house quietly, and Nesta was alone in the darkness once more, rage building a burning fire in her body as she contemplated just what she was going to yell at him.

Five hours later, when the sun had just began to creep over the horizon, the front door opened.

Azriel came into the sitting room, but upon seeing Nesta sitting in the darkness, he stopped in his tracks.

“What are you doing here?”

“I think the better question is where were you?” Nesta hissed, satisfied when a flash of fear crossed the Shadowsinger’s face.

Feyre, he’s here.

I’ll be over in a few minutes.

“I was out in Illyria, making sure there were no wing clippings happening.”

“Liar.”

“Oh? And how would you know, Nesta? Are you might High Lord or Lady? Do you assign me my duties?”

“No. But Feyre had already informed me that you had no work tonight, that you were supposed to spend the week leading up to Nova’s first birthday entirely at home. So. Where were you?”

Azriel’s wings twitched behind him, and he turned his attention to looking for something.

He didn’t find it.

“Where…?” He started, panic flooding his scent. “Where are my mate and child?!” He roared, stomping over to Nesta, who had stood from her place on the couch.

“Somewhere you will never see them again.”

And then Nesta struck, first a knee to his groin, followed up by a satisfying fist to his throat. She relished in the pained noises coming from him, summoning her flames once he had recovered.

“You are lucky that Y/N made me promise not to hurt you more,” Nesta seethed as she backed him into a corner. “You should be ashamed of yourself! Y/N was too kind to take you back, when all you do is hurt her! You never deserved her, you never deserved a mate at ALL! And Nova is lucky to not be raised by such a disgusting person, by someone who only lies and cheats and hurts others.”

Azriel was silent, his head hung low, even as Nesta could scent his rage.

“Azriel.” Rhys’s voice, filled with the authority of a High Lord. “You need to leave. You are no longer welcome in Velaris, except when explicitly allowed.”

Azriel’s head whipped to the front door, where Rhys and Feyre were standing, matching angered expressions on their faces.

“But I-”

“No. You have been given chance after chance to change how you act, how you treat members of this family. And I will not stand for you continuing to live here, even with Y/N and Nova gone,” Feyre snarled. “You can live in the Court of Nightmares or Illyria. But Velaris is no longer your home.”

Azriel’s eyes were wide as he looked between Feyre and Rhys, in disbelief at the situation. “Rhys, you can’t be serious-”

“Deadly. And this is an order from your High Lord and Lady: do not attempt to search for them. Y/N does not want you in her or Nova’s life, and you will respect that. Do you understand?” Rhys asked, but there was only one answer that Azriel could give.

“Yes.” His voice was angry as he gave in to his High Lord’s demand. “Will you at least tell me where they are?” He growled as he glared at the three of them.

“No. You do not get to have any information about them, unless Y/N permits it. You do not deserve to know where they are, what health they are in, anything. Azriel, you disgust me. Y/N has given you so many chances to redeem yourself, but you have disappointed her every time.” Feyre’s voice was deadly calm, but her hatred was bubbling beneath the surface. “My twin has been a saint to you, and you have done nothing but hurt her. The one good thing you have done is give her Nova. And if you ever hurt her again, I will kill you myself.”

Azriel gaped at her, and looked at Rhys.

“You should go. Pack what you want, but by the end of today, you are no longer welcome in Velaris,” Rhys said coldly.

The three of them stayed in the living room as Azriel went upstairs, their ears perking up at the gasp he let out when he saw your shared bedroom, emptied of your effects.

You were gone.

You were really gone.

All of your fabrics and threads, the thimble set that Nesta had gifted you, custom designed just for your birthday last year, the baby blanket that he had made for Nova, all of your clothes- they were all gone.

You had left him!

Surely, you weren’t serious. This was just a ploy to get his attention, to make him take the bond seriously again. His family downstairs must be in on it, just trying to go along with your wishes.

So he packed his bags, taking everything that was vital to him. He went into Nova’s room, where she rarely stayed, but her things were kept, and the pain hit him.

Seeing her room with none of her clothes or toys strewn about, none of the life in it, hurt. It hurt more than seeing that you had left.

He would find you. And he would bring you home.

You and Nova belong with him.

And he would show you that.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

the 1 Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @historygeekqueen @angelbunny222 @mellowmusings @romantasyreader28

[makeyoumine69]

Last Memory (Memory Reboot x5)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Some time after Patrick and Evelyn got married, Bateman thought he could live a normal life and finally forget about you, but he didn't realize that he was already starting to lose his grip on reality, slowly but surely.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW, Patrick's POV, angst, lots of sex, canon violence, blood, near-death experiences, dark themes, obsession, strong hallucinations, blowjobs, pussy eating, rough vaginal and anal sex, cum eating, tainted love vibes, drug use, depressing thoughts and intentions, blackout and fainting, rough choking, spanking, masturbation, cheating, dirty talk and slurs, pet names, degradation kink, self-harm and panic attacks implied, unstable Patrick is a warning himself, I might have forgotten something because this chapter is long af, so forgive me if I really did.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 15k

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐂: VØJ, Narvent—Last Memory; Timecop1983—Back to You

ᴀ/ɴ: Hello dear readers, I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but I just wanted to make this chapter as good as possible! After several rewrites, I think I am finally happy with the result. I'm very sad that Memory Reboot will end in the next update, but I hope you enjoy this angsty story! Also, there are some easter eggs in this chapter, so be on the lookout! And please be aware that there is a lot of trigger material in this chapter, so be careful! Thank you so much for sticking with me, you are all incredible!

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]

An annoying, sonorous alarm sound woke me up and I had to hit it with my fist, almost breaking it, to make it fucking stop. Yawning, I sat on the bed and realized that I was still in Evelyn's apartment; these cream-colored sheets made me want to cry from how much I hate them, but instead of ripping them off, I stretched my arms. The tension in my body, coursing from my shoulders down to my groin, was an eloquent sign that I needed release. With a loud groan, I stood up and briefly grabbed my dick through my white underwear, which seemed to have been hard all night since that bitch Evelyn, who was my wife by the way, refused to have sex again. It was the second time in a row. Sliding my messy hair back, I walked into the living room and noticed that Evelyn had already left. I sighed with relief that I didn't have to see her irritated face since I was already on the verge of going nuts.    

In the kitchen, I took the bottle of Evian from the fridge and made a long gulp before checking the time on my Rolex, frowning right away as I remembered Evelyn yapping about me always keeping them on, even when I went to bed. 

God, why can't women have their mouths shut sometimes?

With a wry grin, I placed the bottle on the counter and paused for a moment to check my reflection in the gleaming metal door of the refrigerator. Today’s day in the office was going to be tough as hell since I had a fuck ton of stupid meetings I tried to convince Jean to cancel, but she reassured me that it would be too rude to ignore my business partners for too long. Hmmph…

A bit later, when I was almost finishing my work out, I suddenly realized that it had already been two months since me and Evelyn got married. And no, I couldn’t really believe this since all days were like one long day—a day that seemed to never end. Huffing, I did another push-up, the 50th in a row, feeling not tired at all. Small beads of sweat rolled down my tensed forehead and I could care less about brushing them off as I was so focused on the pleasant feeling of my muscles flexing each time my chest almost touched the mat. Normally, sports could easily help me to distract myself, to let off steam, to feel refreshed and clear-headed, but now I was more detached from reality than ever before. And it seemed that no amount of exercise could help. Also, my condition was aggravated by the lack of sex, proper sex. When my muscles finally began to hurt, I stopped doing everything and just lay on the mat, panting and looking at the ceiling above. Then, I slowly looked down at my groin—still hard as rock–before my hand involuntarily grabbed it, eliciting a small gasp to fall from my wet lips. Fuck, I was about to explode from my own touch. That was not normal at all. It was pathetic.

Frustrated, I was certain that even a quick release in the shower wouldn’t soothe my mounting tension. It never did, considering that over the past few days I couldn’t even sleep, and what was worse was that even violence couldn’t bring me this much-needed relief. As I made my way to the bathroom, I was thinking, literally drowning in my obsessive thoughts.

I need more…I really need to get this done. I REALLY NEED IT! I NEED THEM!

 I bit my lip and turned on the shower, then got rid of my white boxers, stepped out of them, and strided on the cold marble. The water washed over me like a tidal wave. I closed my eyes and let the steam splash along my flushed face. My skin felt like it was on fire, as if I were about to crash into the sun. I couldn't find any way to relax. I felt desperate and angry. I was pretty mad, too. But would killing you have helped me find peace? 

If I knew you were gone, if no one could ever be with you the way I was, would that be what I wanted?

 I let out a deep, exhausted sigh and pressed my forehead against the wet tiles, ignoring the way the tip of my cock brushed against the wall, sending tingles into my very core. The images of you covered in blood, trapped beneath me, almost sent me over the edge. I didn't let myself think about it for too long, though, because I knew it would lead to addiction. As if I weren't already hooked. My breathing got a little uneven, and I started scratching at the white tiles as I got hit by a sudden, intense rush of memories. I remembered your voice, your moans, and the way you screamed my name. I wanted to ruin you, to make you bleed, to tear you apart and leave you just like you left me. The pain you caused was so deep, it lingered. I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't realize what I was doing. I let my hand rest on my throbbing length while the fingers of my other hand slid down my lower back, right between my legs. The moment I touched my tensed asshole, I moaned. I was loud and needy. I was embarrassed but also aroused. I thrust into my hand, slowly at first but gradually losing control, while my digit slid inside my ass completely with ease. I couldn't hold back my whimpers as I was about to cum. My vision was filled with blood, intensifying my fantasies about you. With my eyes closed, I was on the brink of losing it when I suddenly heard some commotion coming from behind the bathroom door. 

"Damn!" I groaned and hit the wall in front of me, my dick pulsing even after I let go of it.

"Honey," Evelyn's voice echoed through the bathroom. I turned to see her casually walking to the shower, her blue eyes curiously examining my bare frame as if she was seeing me like this for the first time. "You didn't close the door."

Fuck, I really didn't.

Scrunching my nose, I pushed my wet hair back and spun around completely, giving her the full view of my nakedness. "I thought I'd leave before you got back..." my reply was brash and sharp. "...at least I hoped so."

Evelyn didn't react, she just stood in front of the shower, blinking and staring at me—at the way the water flowed down my sculpted body, to be exact—and something told me that just watching wasn't going to be enough for her.

"So... are you just going to stay and watch?" I said aloud before opening the glass door and letting some steam out of the shower. 

The blonde grinned broadly but remained motionless. "You're not trying to bait me like that, are you?" 

Jesus Christ, this woman is really driving me crazy.

Irritated, still struggling with my boner, I wanted to drag her into the shower without even asking and make her freshly bought Chanel suit so fucking shitty that she would definitely throw a tantrum, but I managed to control myself.

Leaning against the wet glass, I watched her unclasp her jewels, gems that shone in the dim bathroom light, my hands instinctively slipping down to my aching cock as I was now the one watching Evelyn take off her jacket, the delicate shape of her collarbones forcing me to admit that my wife was, after all, absolutely gorgeous and even though I didn't feel anything... sublime towards her, I couldn't deny that every time she did things like that, she stirred up a burning desire in me.

"What if I do?" My voice dropped lower from the tension building at the base of my spine. "You'll find another stupid excuse to deny me, like you always do?" I gave myself a slow stroke, biting my lips and quickly licking them as Evelyn removed her blouse and placed her leg on the edge of the tub, pulling up her skirt so I could see her black stockings. "Why didn't you go for Bryce when you had the chance?"

My body stopped listening to me as I said these words, as if I was hypnotized, but I felt no remorse, only a pang of conscience for how pathetic I probably was right now, standing in the shower jacking off to the woman I didn't really love, who was probably having an affair with my best friend all this time as a bonus.

"And you're bringing up Bryce again," Evelyn murmured, grinning like a vixen, her hands working meticulously to remove her stockings, stopping only when she was done with her expensive clothes, leaving herself only in a white Vanity Fair lingerie I'd bought her a few days ago to stop her hysteria. "Why is this only bothering you now...after we got married?"

"W-what?" I almost choked on my breath, my hand around my cock stalled in its momentum. "What are you talking about? It...it never bothered me."

Still, her words struck a chord within me and now I was even more angry with myself than before. Evelyn obviously thought she was in control of this situation—her extra confident demeanor, the way she moved and talked, even her blue eyes looked different now, as a wicked spark glinted in them. 

For a fleeting moment, I just stood there, trying to lose myself in the warm streams of water, not really knowing what to say, and a suffocating panic crept into my chest, but then, as I found myself gripping the glass shower door with all the force I could muster so that it wouldn't shatter, my vision blurred for a second before I noticed Evelyn's slender body pressed against the glass, her small but pretty breasts looking so damn inviting that I couldn't hold back a groan.

"What were you saying?" She asked indifferently, the water gurgling mixing with her voice inside my head pulling me into a trance.

"Nothing," I replied, leaning forward and pressing myself against the glass door from the opposite side, my dick brushing against it ever so slightly, but even this mere contact made me close my eyes for a dear moment. "I said nothing..." my eyes darkened, pupils dilated. "Now...get in...will you?" I grinned and tilted my head, watching my wife flutter her thick eyelashes like bird wings.

Evelyn didn't answer, standing still with her body pressed against the shower door, and I couldn't hold back anymore—I just dragged her in, not caring about her expensive lingerie getting soggy—I'd buy her a new one if I had to. With a surprised squeal, she then giggled as the streams of water ran down her fit body, her elegant fingers stroking my cheek for a fleeting moment before I picked her up and turned her around to press her against the cool marble wall. Evelyn's gasp echoed through the bathroom, sending a shiver down my spine, as if I were really into her, into all of this, and if that was not me imagining you in her place, if that was not making me want to be somewhere else right now.

Somewhere where nobody could find me. Us. 

"Patrick," Evelyn's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Can you hear me? The water's too hot..."

"Too hot?" I repeated, finding her statement so funny for no reason, but I cooled the water with my free hand anyway, still holding Evelyn in my arms as if she weighed nothing. "I'd say something like..."

"It's not the water that's making it hot, it's me," she cut me off, her face turning into a serious grimace, and for a second I felt like I was going to lose my shit. Is she making fun of me? "I've heard that enough, honey."

Frowning at that fucking nickname I really hated, I noticed the way she was pressing on my shoulders, implying that she wanted me to get her down on the floor, and I did—I didn't want to think, I didn't want to guess what was going through her mind—I just wanted to follow. To feel at least something beyond hatred and disgust. But I guess that was too much to ask.

Without saying a word, I knelt before Evelyn, leveled myself with her perfectly waxed pubic area, her breath hitching as I planted a soft kiss on her mound before tracing a finger along her wet from the water folds through the absolutely drenched fabric of her panties, which were now clinging to her like a second skin. I looked up at her with a mischievous grin, the water hitting my eyes painfully, but I held on to watch that raw need emanating from her body—savoring it like a vampire thirsty for blood.

My actions were smooth, calculated. When I got rid of her damp lingerie, I let the wet clothes that were now spread out on the shower floor fall to the ground, forgotten, and I was sure that Evelyn would have to throw them in a garbage can when we were done. The involuntary arch of her back, her hips brushing against my face and the moan she let out when the tip of my tongue flicked around her feverish clit, that was something I could live with. 

Letting Evelyn grind against my face, I began to eat her pussy more feverishly, my one hand holding her open while another was wrapped tightly around my hard dick as I jerked off in sync with my oral ministrations. It was actually a turn-on, but only because I managed to block out all thoughts of you... In another situation they would have helped me to orgasm, but now... now they would only destroy everything. 

I groaned when Evelyn pulled my hair harder than I liked, but I didn't want to punish her for it, not now, because I was still going to fuck her and this would be a perfect moment to show her how I felt and what I really needed. But then again, all of this made me feel pathetic in some odd, twisted way, that I was a starved dog who had to struggle to find barely any food to survive—what was my life—I was not living, I was surviving.

"Yes...yes...just like that," Evelen keened again as I tongue fucked her flushed cunt. "Keep...g-going..."

I could feel that she was so close to collapsing, it was kind of amusing how fast I could always make her cum, if only she knew that I always did it for myself, not for her, but for me. "Cum around my face," I spat out, my overalls buzzing from the tensind at the base of my cock; these little tingles were going to make me explode, but I didn't hesitate, increasing the pace of my own stroking. "Let it go. Now!"

My voice was muffled, gruff, I was sure its vibration only added to the overwhelming rush of bliss that was about to descend upon my wife as her legs began to tremble, her thigh on my shoulder jerking as I dipped my tongue inside her while my thumb caressed her oversensitive bud. And then she climaxed, convulsing and barely holding herself from screaming, I watched as she silenced herself with her palm, her eyes closed tightly, I reveled in such reactions, I always had, so I didn't stop as I wanted to prolong this scene—a scene full of fake emotions and this was just an echo of something I had experienced and lost— because if I stopped, I would fucking die.

Maybe this is what I always needed? Just to...stop existing?

Panting, I finally moved away from her hot, now swollen cleft, my own heart pounding so fast, but I couldn't move, I just stayed on my knees, the water falling on me like a heavy rain from that day I followed you to the airport and watched the plane take you away from me. For the second fucking time in a row.

Meanwhile, Evelyn was slowly coming down from her high, her chest heaving and falling so fast that for a moment I thought she was going to pass out, but then she turned and leaned against the wall, swaying her hips in the most inviting gesture I'd ever seen her make.

"Shit," I murmured almost imperceptibly, my basic instincts finally taking over. "You want me to fuck you?"

Gasping, she nodded and craned her neck to look back at me, I quickly stood and hugged her from behind, my lips tracing a short trail of kisses along her shoulder as I aligned myself with her entrance, she was so aroused and ready for me that I felt no resistance as I pushed myself into her malleable body. Just a few fleeting seconds for both of us to adjust before my pace picked up, the sound of wet flesh against flesh filling the room, and I pressed closer to Evelyn, her high-pitched moans fading in my delusions as I gave in—the images of you were so clear in my mind now that I clenched my teeth to hold back my own moans—I was weak and I hated myself for it.

Luckily Evelyn was on the pill so I didn't have to worry about a sudden pregnancy, but there was still some fear I tried desperately to ignore, my thrusts became ragged, raw and deep, I was about to spill myself inside her, both palms cupping her breasts, rubbing soft mounds, but then I squeezed them quite roughly and Evelyn's loud whimper was a sheer testament to my ferocity. Feeling my whole system shatter, I managed to stop myself from sinking my teeth into her neck as my vision turned white as I reached my peak with your name on my lips, though I never let myself say it out loud.

A little later that morning, as I dressed in my freshly tailored dark charcoal flannel double-breasted suit with wide white pinstripes, the sun was high in the zenith and its rays bathed Evelyn's bedroom in a soft golden hue. This brief encounter of intimacy with my wife gave me some hope that maybe there was still a chance to live a normal life, the one my mother and father always wanted for me, the American dream family they always told me about, but my parents never really tried to understand me, but since Sean chose a different path in life, not the RIGHT one, the legacy of my family fell on my shoulders.

Trapped in my thoughts, I didn't even notice the phone ringing somewhere next to me, I turned around to see a small black phone on the nightstand. At first I decided to ignore it, since I didn't really care about Evelyn's business, I didn't care at all, but this time something inside of me started to sting.

Who can call her at this hour?

With a soft click of my tongue, I finished adjusting my cufflinks and looked back at the buzzing phone, deciding to pick it up and find out who the hell was calling my wife. "Yes? Who's this?"

"Hello, Patrick," your voice crawled into my brain like a parasite, I swallowed, my skin covered in goosebumps and I sweated almost instantly. "How's it going? Don't you think it's a bit pathetic to think of me when you're banging your lovely wife?"

"You?" Was the only thing I managed to say. "Where did you get this number?"

I heard you laughing as if you were right next to me. "Tim gave it to me," you replied with blatant audacity. "Uh...you're not happy to hear me? That's a shame because I thought you missed me."

"Listen," I spat into the phone, gripping it so tightly that it was about to break in a half in my hand. "I don't know who you think you are...but believe me when I say I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU AND YOUR FUCKING LIFE! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Patrick? Who are you talking to?" I turned to see Evelyn standing in the doorway, her blue eyes full of concern.

Caught red-handed, I took the phone away from my ear and chuckled. "It's just...a random call...nothing serious." When I said that, her face became even more worried. "Is something wrong, darling?"

Evelyn blinked several times before answering. "I definitely remember turning off the phone before I went to sleep...I always do..."

Her words hung in the air for some time before I could actually continue, and when I finally did, I tugged at my collar from the sudden lack of oxygen in my lungs.

What the fuck?

Under Evelyn's attentive gaze, I looked up at the receiver as if seeing it for the first time in my life, then I pressed it to my ear again and all I heard was silence—a deafening, eerie silence—even a single beep could not be discerned. My throat tightened uncomfortably and I felt like throwing up from the tight knot in my stomach, for I'd never felt such fear before.

"Patrick...are you okay?" The blonde woman asked, not daring to come closer. "Are you taking the medicine your psychiatrist prescribed you..."

"Evelyn!"

"No, I'm serious! This isn't funny Patrick, I'm scared," she suddenly confessed and I swore I couldn't remember seeing her so worried. "You need help...why don't you let people help you?"

With that Evelyn stormed out of the bedroom and I was sure she was crying. Damn women, never give you a chance to explain yourself. I cursed before slamming the phone down on its station with a thud, probably shattering the plastic, but who fucking cared? All they cared about was whether I was taking those fucking pills, but no one really cared about...me. 

It took me some time to calm down and finally go to work. I didn't talk to Evelyn before I left, as it was pointless in her current state. As soon as I was outside, I breathed in the fresh air and watched the passers-by walking here and there without even noticing each other, this scene I saw every day, I picked out my Walkman like in a slow motion movie, put the headphones on my head and then attached it to my belt, the next moment I heard Madonna's deep voice surging through my head.

The taxi ride to the Pierce & Pierce office took longer than usual because of the heavy traffic. When I finally entered the high-rise building, I didn't take off my headphones because I didn't really want to talk to anyone, I just walked through the long corridors like a ghost without a name. It was really interesting that I never really thought about my fucking coworkers constantly messing up my name—they didn't know who I was even though we met every week—but you—you remembered it so clearly, there wasn't a single day that you mistook me for someone else. Jean greeted me as always with her sweet smile. Today she wore a dress and high heels. I smiled at such details and pulled up my headphones so I could hear her. 

"Did I miss anything?" I asked casually, thinking I was late as I often was.

Brushing her blonde hair, my secretary rose from her seat, clutching her favorite notebook to her chest. "Timothy Bryce called to ask about lunch."

My eyebrows raised in skepticism at her words.

Bryce. Wants to see me after not talking to me for almost a week. Interesting.

"Uh, right, but I thought I had a pretty busy schedule today?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Well, yeah," she quickly opened her notebook and then raised her bright eyes to me. "But you have a little window..."

At some point, Jean's voice became as much white noise as Madonna's song, the lyrics of which slipped away from me like a leaf in the wind. The thought of Tim finally revealing that he and Evelyn were having an affair behind my back, as if they really thought I could be stupid enough not to notice, brought me a strange sense of relief. It was like an itchy splinter in your finger that you couldn't bring yourself to pull out, but you knew that the longer it stayed there, the worse it would get.

"Okay, Jean," I heaved abruptly. "Be a doll and make a rez in a good place. Then call Bryce back."

Jean was noticeably confused, but I was too overwhelmed with my own chaotic thoughts that there was no room for anything else. With a devoted nod, she returned to her seat and I opened the door to my office, where everything was the same, all things in the places I had left them. At least there seemed to be something constant in my life.

The rustling of chatter and the clinking of silverware against plates mingled in a wild cacophony of sounds I was quite familiar with—I was born in the middle of this madness, to say the least, the lush life of people like me was something you couldn't really avoid, though I never tried to avoid it, I enjoyed every little benefit I got from being rich. 

So now I was sitting in Delmonico's lash interior, holding a glass of J&B on rocks in one hand and a cigar in the other. I waited for Bryce to come and soon I noticed his approaching figure, his black hair slicked back as usual, and I even chuckled at how fucking punctilious this man always was. Tim ordered a glass of Russian vodka and some seafood appetizers. After a short casual conversation we both fell silent and just when I was expecting him to tell me the reason why he wanted to see me, he suddenly picked up a shiny cardholder and put it on the table, then took out a pack of cigarettes to grab one.

"New cardholder?" I asked, definitely remembering that Bryce used to have a different one. "Looks...nice."

"It's platinum," Timothy commented before lighting his cigarette, his gray eyes scanning the room before focusing on me. "It's a gift...from our mutual friend."

Friend?

I almost bit the inside of my cheek to the point of bleeding. "Really?"

Bryce let out a puff of smoke and pointed to my empty glass. "I heard you quit drinking," he grinned and dabbed the ash from his cigarette. "That you're on... some medication."

"I wonder who told you that," my jaw almost snapped in anger, I had to claw at my knee to regain some composure. "And yes, I had to take medication for a while...but I'm on a break now." I hoped he could tell by the tone of my voice that I wasn't going to continue this conversation. "Who else would know how it works better than you since you went through rehab. Am I right, Bryce?"

I knew how much he hated talking about it, so his recent bravado faded like a cloud of smoke, but his cheeky grin never left his face.

"I get it, I get it," he laughed softly before sipping his drink. "You definitely got off on the wrong foot today, but it's okay," the man swirled his glass in his hand, watching the ice cubes clink against its walls. "I just wanted to tell you that... you're definitely missing something. Or maybe I should say—someone."

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head to the side. "Maybe you can tell me something more...specific, or are we going to play that crappy guessing game?"

Bryce shifted in his seat and wanted to say something, but he was interrupted by two familiar voices—Craig and David.

Shit, why did those two idiots have to come right now?

The moment was ruined, and so was I.

"Wow, I can't believe my eyes! See, I told you they had a date," McDermott let out a loud chuckle, my fists clenched, and if we were somewhere else, preferably alone, I'd fucking break my glass against his smug face. "I called Jean and she said you two were having lunch together. Isn't that sweet?"

"Oh, fuck you, McDermott!" Bryce retorted, but he wasn't really angry. "Fuck you and your cheap jokes. Your sense of humor is as flat as the ass of that chick you met in the Tunnel yesterday. Besides, how was she?"

The Tunnel, that damn club that started all this shit. I closed my eyes and tried to shake off the unwelcome memories of that day, but all I wanted to do was leave this place. Bryce's words became a breaking point, they helped a cup of weights to turn to another side without him even knowing it. Slowly I rose from the table, ignoring any questions, dismissing them with a clumsy gesture.

This evening was destined to be spent in the Tunnel after everything that happened today. I didn't tell anyone about my spontaneous venture to find some escape in the nightclub full of drug-addicted chicks and yuppies like me. My mind was racing with the idea of doing some coke, all I had to do was find the dealer that Bryce and I always hang out with and get a gram. A very simple plan to forget about all the shit that was going on in my life for a while.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, they say.

As I strolled across the dance floor, I noticed the bar was pretty empty, so I decided to have a drink before finding the dealer, as the glass of whiskey I had at lunch was not enough. The bartender greeted me with a polite smile as he cleaned the bar. 

"Good evening, sir," the man took a shiny glass and set it in front of me. "What would you like to drink?"

"A J&B straight and a Corona." I replied, taking a seat and fumbling for my wallet.

The bartender nodded and went to get my drinks. While I waited, I looked around when I noticed the only person sitting at the bar—it turned out to be a redheaded girl, a very good looking one—I hummed to myself, absolutely sure that such a girl was definitely not alone tonight. 

"Your drinks, sir." The bartender placed an open bottle of Corona next to my glass, now filled with my favorite whiskey.

"Thank you." I handed him a few bills before he could even tell me how much I had to pay. 

The young man babbled something incoherent that I couldn't even make out, but after I gave him a dead stare, he just took the money and finally left me alone. Annoyed, I checked the time on my Rolex before grabbing a bottle of Corona to take a sip, but I was interrupted again. This time not by the bartender.

"Hey," a soft female voice hung over my ear, sending a massive wave of excitement through me. I turned to see that the chick from the other end of the bar was now standing so close to me that I could smell her flowery perfume. "Are you here alone?"

I wish I could say that, but my thoughts of you were always here, with me, but instead of saying that bullshit, I nodded and grinned, checking her body in the most humiliating way, thinking it would scare her away from me, but the gleam in her green eyes only increased after my move.

God, she doesn't know what she's asking for.

"Yeah, you could say that." I smiled again as she sat down next to me. "What about you?"

The girl leaned against the bar, her ginger hair cascading down her elegant shoulders, and for a moment I couldn't take my eyes off her. "I wasn't supposed to be alone tonight, but...you know how it is...most men are total jerks."

I could barely keep myself from bursting out laughing. "Did someone offend you?" She played with the gold bracelet on her wrist and nodded shyly, a move I suddenly found very sexy. "Do you mind if I get you a drink?"

"First, tell me your name," she muttered in a challenging way—a blatant provocation that I ate like a starved man. "Then I'll think about it."

This girl is so sweet, I bet her insides are the same.

At first I wanted to use a fake name, like I always did, but then I just gave her my real name, because in the end it would make no difference. "Patrick....Patrick Bateman," I finally took a sip of Corona and savored the taste. "And you?"

"Nicole," the girl said, still fiddling with her jewelry. "But I used to have a lot of different names."

"I like this one," I chuckled, smiling charmingly. "It suits a girl like you."

"A girl like me?"

"A beautiful girl...very beautiful I must say." My voice was deep and soft like silk, I noticed the way she straightened her shoulders, slowly but gradually relaxing. 

"You really think so?" She asked me, her eyes roaming over my mischievous face, then down to my lips.

Instead of answering, I just smiled in the most enchanting way possible before calling for the bartender to order her a drink. Nicole and I talked for a while—she told me she was from Canada and didn't really have any friends in New York—it was strangely satisfying but I tried to be sympathetic and supportive even though my mind was so far away from here. The ginger girl didn't even notice how she finished one cocktail and then another, while I didn't even touch my whiskey, just idly sipped my bottle of Corona because for some reason I wanted to be as sober as possible.

As the club was getting more and more empty, Nicole was ready to give me a blowjob right at the bar, but I convinced her to go to my place and to be honest, I didn't expect it to be that easy since I hadn't really planned anything like that. I forgot about the drug dealer because now I had to worry about what I was going to say to Evelyn tomorrow because I was definitely not going to spend the night with her. 

"Patrick..." Nicole nestled into my side as we sat in the cab. "Did I tell you I know...F-French?"

I crossed my arms and shook my head in dismay. "No, you didn't," I said, looking down at her red, messy hair. "But it's nothing special...you're from Canada and French is your second official language."

Nicole let out a cartoonish giggle that made me cringe. "Oh...you know it? Damn, you're such a smart man...Mr. Bateman...so fucking smart...most guys I've slept with....didn't know that..." she giggled again and tried to pinch my nose, but I shooed her away. "Can you believe that?"

At a certain point, I was even starting to regret bringing her along, but I hoped I'd be able to shut her mouth with something...sharp and maybe deadly. "It happens, Nicole. Like you said, there were so many bad people in this town. Fortunately, you're lucky to have met someone like me."

The girl hugged me at my words, I could feel her drunk breath next to my lips, but instead of turning away I let her kiss me and it felt better than I expected. Soon the cab pulled up to the American Gardens Building. The walk up to my apartment didn't take much time, I was already thinking about how I was going to dispose of her body after I was done with her. Nicole, completely unaware of my dark thoughts, walked around my apartment barefoot as she kicked off her shoes, complaining about how fucking uncomfortable they were.

"Oh, this place is so fucking...c-cool!" She managed to say, swaying from side to side while moving. "Jesus, is that a telescope? Why do you even need that?" Nicole giggled like a child seeing one for the first time, but who knew, maybe she really was seeing it for the first time. "Do you... spy on people with that... thing?"

"No, Nicole." I replied curtly, standing next to her with my hands hidden in the pockets of my tailored pants. 

"Are you...an astronaut...from NASA?" She asked, then winced when she finally noticed my looming figure. "Are you... going to send me to the moon tonight, handsome?"

"I'll do more than that," I crooned, placing my hand on her waist and pulling her closer. "But I must say one thing you may not like..." a short pause, then a soft rumble left my throat. "I prefer that beautiful mouth of yours to be closed. Do you understand?"

I was expecting anything other than this bitch dropping to her knees and immediately working on unbuckling my belt. The way she was behaving was both amusing and enticing, but what I enjoyed most was that she was so naive and completely dumb.

"Look at you," I murmured before grabbing a handful of her ginger curls that were blocking her vision. "So inpatient, huh?"

By the time she managed to undo my pants, I was already so hard that my dick sprang out of the confines of my clothes and almost slapped her face, but it didn't bother her at all—I could only see an uncontrollable desire in those big green eyes that were now looking at me as if asking for my permission. 

Shameless, pathetic whore.

With a practiced move, I grabbed the back of her head to pull her closer to my crotch, then pressed my engorged dick against her lips, sliding it along them and making her lick off my pre-cum. "Yeah," I croaked, biting my own lips. "I definitely like you more like this...open your mouth, bitch."

Nicole obeyed and the next thing I knew I was thrusting into her mouth, her warmth welcoming me and making me grunt as I bucked my hips into her face, pushing myself further until I heard her gag around my shaft.

"'C'mon, choke on my dick," I snarled, pulling on her hair with brutal force, her nose rubbing against my pubis and I snaked my hand down to rest on her throat, wanting to feel my cock slide along it. "I'm sure no one has ever face fucked you like that...am I right, honey?"

I used that ugly nickname Evelyn always gave me and pulled myself out of her mouth to hear her answer, but she just gulped desperately for air and grabbed my legs for any semblance of support. 

"Oh-Christ...you're...s-so fucking big," she wept, trying to wipe the liquid mixture off her chin, but I wouldn't let her, pulling her head back. "Shit...you're really one of those guys...who likes it rough?"

With a devilish smile, I gave myself several quick strokes before answering. "Oh, darling. You can't even imagine how MUCH I like that kind of thing."

Panting, Nicole was not ready for me to invade her mouth again, but I didn't care, just as I ignored her little protest when I fucked her throat and felt the curve of my dick slide into her wet, tight channel. It was a bliss I had always sought, that fleeting moment of raw control over another human, once you tasted it you couldn't stop yourself.

Perfection.

As time passed, I came at least twice in her abused mouth, each time making sure she swallowed every drop, but then I got bored of fucking her face and left her sprawled out on my expensive living room floor, which I would definitely have to call the maid service to clean. Barely alive, Nicole literally vomited my sperm mixed with her blood, her plump lips swollen and bruised from my beatings—I couldn't stress her pathetic whimpering anymore, so I had to act—but she would last a while longer, I was sure of it.

As I rummaged through my stuff in the bedroom to get a condom, Nicole's pathetic whimpering was like music to my ears, but at some point I considered turning on some real music to muffle the girl's screams, although to my surprise she was not that loud. But just in case, I returned to the living room and stepped over Nicole, who was still lying on the floor, to get to my stereo and put on the latest Talking Heads album, True Stories.

"I didn't ask you what kind of music you like," I suddenly chuckled and moved closer to the sobbing girl to crouch down beside her. "But I doubt it would change anything."

After that, I stood up and decided to strip completely, every move I made calculated and mastered to perfection. One second, two seconds....ten seconds and I was almost naked, when the only thing left on me was my gold Rolex, I heard her weak, shaky voice:

"Whitney Houston," she murmured, barely audible. "I love Whitney Houston."

I stopped in my tracks. "Oh...really? What is your favorite song?"

My lips were curled in a smile that came dangerously close to something insane as I carefully placed all my clothes on one of my black chairs before picking up the girl and moving her to the window—away from my white couch that I didn't want to stain with her fucking blood. She didn't struggle, she didn't struggle at all as I positioned her against the window, pressing her bruised face against the cold glass.

"Take Good Care of My Heart," the redhead added as I began to poke at her soaked pussy, which was not shaved like most of the girls I used to have, and to be honest, I really liked it. "I...I really love the whole album."

"Oh yeah," I chuckled into her ear, fixing her in place as the tip of my cock plunged into her, causing her legs to shake. "This is such a good album..."

With that I bottomed her out completely, my balls slapping against her ass, red from my spanking, I thought I could see the outline of my hand. Her little cunt felt no worse than her mouth, but it was not as tight...after being with you, nothing seemed tight enough to me.

Fuck it!

Cursing under my breath, I sped up to pound into her as hard as I could. Thank God the glass didn't break, but I changed our position anyway. Now Nicole was bent over my black leather chair, her ass wiggling every time I thrust into her and I couldn't stop myself from spanking her, I wanted her to fucking scream and cry out in pain but all I could get from her was nothing that could signal that she was in pain. On the contrary, this girl seemed to enjoy it so much, as her hips moved in rhythm with mine, she bucked in my direction to meet my movements.

"Shit, you fuck like a whore," I blurted out, grabbing her hair in a self-made ponytail. "Is that why you came to America? To be a fucktoy for men like me?"

"Mmm...f-fuck me...please...fuck me!" Nicole didn't seem to hear me, I had to squeeze her throat to shut her up. "Ye-yes...fucking...c-choke me...please!"

Stupid bitch.

In one swift motion, I pulled out only to slam into her unprepared asshole, making her scream in pain and fuck, she sounded amazing. Quickly wiping the sweat from my forehead, I pushed her down on my cock, noticing the crimson drops of her blood on my dick, which only spurred me to move faster and more ferociously. This bitch didn't see it coming, but she was still pretty obedient, which started to seem pretty weird to me, because usually by this time women start to panic, fight and try to escape, but this fucking hoe didn't even say a word about the way I was treating her.

And that started to disappoint me.

When I thought I was not going to climax, I closed my eyes and let my imagination take control of my brain. Huffing, I rammed into Nicole harder, fantasizing about you—how we could go 69, your fingers buried deep inside my asshole - I could fucking feel the sensation of them and it sent an electric shock right through my tensed sac.

"Oh, fuck," I gripped her waist with both hands, fucking her with pure abandon. "You...fucking...arrogant prick...I hate you! I hate you s-so fucking much!"

All my curses fell on deaf ears as Nicole only whimpered in response, gripping the back of the chair and the next second I found her cumming around my cock, her inner walls spasming around me, triggering my own orgasm.

 When I was finally finished with her, I stood over her trembling body as she lay on the floor again. The girl was shaking and giggling, I thought she probably lost her mind already, so instead of using a knife or something, I decided to just strangle her with my bare hands. I wanted to see life slowly leave her body. I fucking craved it.

"Nicole," I shook her before getting on top of her, pressing her down with the weight of my muscular body. "Look at me."

Nicole's bloodshot eyes couldn't focus on mine for some time, she was stunned, dazed, ruined and intoxicated, I had to slap her face several times before she finally locked her hazy gaze with mine. The sweet anticipation of the kill enveloped my mind, my cock grew hard again as I placed both hands around her fragile neck, I began to squeeze it, lightly at first but then more and more forcefully.

"You made a big mistake coming to America, Nicole." I let out a taunt, not really expecting her to hear it or respond to it.

Everything was going according to plan when she suddenly smiled and covered my hands, not to take them off, but to stroke them with a wicked... attraction?

"Please...kill me already...I beg you..." She couldn't stop herself from crying and laughing. 

This was a psychotic episode I had experienced so many times, but I never expected to see it with my own eyes. I froze in shock, losing my grip, and as I did, Nicole pulled my hands back to her throat, shaking me as if to wake me up.

"No, no, no, no! Please...don't stop...please...I want to die! Patrick, please...set me free!" Nicole's voice cracked and I could finally see the sheer desperation in her green eyes, but this kind of desperation was different. 

This wasn't the kind of despair I'd seen before...this was something completely different. It was kind of a turn-off for me. The whole evening was fucking ruined, I couldn't believe it. Shaking my head, I stood up and stepped away from her as if from a fire. 

"Patrick...please!"

"Shut up!" I yelled, looking down at my own hands—they were shaking so badly. "Shut the fuck up!"

In a panic, I rushed to the bathroom to wash my hands for who knows what reason, then grabbed my robe and put it on. I couldn't really explain what was happening to me, but when I got back to the living room, I picked up Nicole's clothes and threw them at her.

"Get dressed," I ordered, and then I went into the bedroom to unlock my safe and take out several bundles of money. What was I doing? Panting, I paused in the doorway to watch her get dressed, then walked over to her and handed her the money. "I want you to take this, go to a hospital and get back to Canada. Do you hear me, Nicole?"

The redhead was silent, just looking at me with her pleading eyes. "But I don't want to go..."

"You have to." I emphasized the words by lowering my voice. "Just do what I say and everything should be... okay."

"But I don't want it to be okay." Nicole tried to touch me, but I pulled away.

"Just go," I repeated my previous words, this time in a more serious voice. "And never come back."

I spent the rest of the night sitting in the shower, literally sitting on the floor, crying. A lot. My eyes were so red and puffy that I didn't know which ice mask would help me look normal tomorrow. The hatred of myself that rose from my chest to my cheeks and made me nauseous—I hated myself so much that I finally admitted that I had changed—you had changed me and there was no going back. The man I was before died, now I was just an empty being, or maybe a new man had been born in my shallow soul?

When I finally managed to drag my ass out of the bathroom, the phone rang and I was sure it was Evelyn trying to fuck my brain for not coming back to her apartment and to be fair, I wasn't ready for anything like that at that moment, but considering how much of a pain in the ass she was, I didn't want any more consequences if I didn't pick up the fucking call.

As I walked into the bedroom, I took the phone from my nightstand and finally answered the call. "Yes?"

"Patrick! Jesus, I thought you weren't going to answer the call!" It was you, damn it, it was you.

My teeth almost creaked with anger and disbelief. "How many times do I have to tell you to fuck off?! Are you stalking me or what? How the fuck did you know I was in my apartment?"

"I... I didn't know... I just decided to try my luck and here we are," you replied, your voice was different than it sounded this morning. "Listen Patrick, I'm in New York right now...maybe we can see each other?"

"See each other?" Those words made me sick. "Do you even hear yourself?"

"I know that...things are pretty tense between us, but...maybe we can at least talk about it?"

"No, we can't," I clutched the phone as tightly as I could. "I don't want to see you and I don't want to hear you. Do you understand? If you ever call me again, I'll fucking find you and KILL YOU!"

With that, I dropped the phone on the floor and screamed so loudly that my throat began to hurt. Right now I was nothing but a living madness, the things that were happening in my mind were like an open chasm to hell—a place I'd be one day, I had no doubt about it.

The few days I spent in a dizzy state, I couldn't really remember what I was doing, but the only thing I was sure of was that I couldn't stop thinking about you. Also, I didn't kill anyone for lack of thrill, there was no more adrenaline or excitement—you changed me and now spilling some blood couldn't help me to relieve myself anymore. I felt like I was being shattered into pieces, decomposed into something primitive, for the first time I saw myself as being even more inhuman than I really was.

Inhuman.

What a perfect word to describe everything about me, but I still couldn't understand where I belonged? If not here, could there be a place for a creature like me?

This question was swirling around in my head like a brain worm; that damn rainy evening when I decided to stalk my dear wife. After my rather long absence, Evelyn was about to go to the police, but then I showed up at the door of her apartment at night, high as hell, but she didn't seem surprised at all. I expected her to be mad and angry, but instead she treated me really nice, I could hear her crying and her desperate touch when she hugged me, weeping and sobbing something about being so scared and worried about me and although I didn't believe a single word that came out of her mouth, something stirred inside of me.

The raindrops were falling on my umbrella like Morse code, hitting the surface with such a precise rhythm that I really thought maybe something or someone was trying to send me a sign. The level of absurdity was over the top, and if I were in a different state mentally and physically, I'd be laughing my ass off at this shit, but today I couldn't do anything funny. I couldn't smile, I couldn't sneer, I was like a ghost, a shadow of the person I was before I met you. So here I was, following Evelyn down the street after the taxi ride until I saw her stop at some hotel—a luxury hotel in Upper Manhattan to be exact— and then, after some time, when I thought nothing interesting would happen, a sleek black Cadillac stopped by the street and I saw Timothy Bryce get out of the car—he was holding a black umbrella just like me. Evelyn was so excited to see him that she didn't even wait for them to go inside the hotel, she kissed him now and then without holding back her emotions. This scene made the stone fall off my shoulders; I was so damn happy that I was right and that this fake marriage was about to collapse, but I still couldn't understand why Evelyn married me at all. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if one day, when we finally had a serious talk about it, she would confess that she loved both of us—me and Bryce— and suggested that we all live together.

Say hello to an altered version of the American dream family.

The reality was always cruel, and I knew it too well.

A loud clap of thunder echoed through my apartment, waking me up in my living room, drenched in sweat. Breathing heavily, I turned around to register some pornography playing on my TV, my robe was undone, I was completely naked underneath, some remnants of my cum stuck to my stomach.

Shit, I just blacked out jerking off? This porn really sucks.

And this was the 5th or maybe 10th porn tape I had watched, and I only managed to cum once. Cursing and scowling, I fidgeted on my couch to find a remote control. I was disgusted with my current situation, but then I noticed two thin lines of white powder on my glass coffee table and a twisted $100 bill. Now everything started to fall into place.

Fuck, where did I even get this gram?

I rubbed my head, and instead of turning off the porn, I turned it up louder—two perfect bimbos making out, their oiled bodies wrapped around each other like two snakes—my hand instinctively sliding back to my hard cock, throbbing and soaked with my cum.

"Oh-fuck..." I murmured through clenched teeth as I pumped myself, watching the girls play with their large breasts. "Yeah...suck her tits...suck them like a fucking pacifier..."

The louder their moaning got, the more excited I got, and just when I thought I was about to climax again, I heard... a fucking phone ringing loudly—it hurt my hearing. Confused, I stopped doing anything, ignoring the fact that one slut was now riding on the face of another. There was only one thing I could think about right now— had I turned off my phone or not? Because I definitely remembered pulling the fucking cords out of it, but that thing kept ringing? 

Slowly I got up on my stiff legs and walked to the kitchen island to grab the phone, the only light coming from my playing TV and I bumped into something pretty hard before the fucking receiver was in my hand.

"Patrick Bateman's apartment..." I almost whispered, pressing the receiver harder against my head.

"...Pat..." the echo of a familiar voice wailed from the other end of the line, but I still couldn't make out who it was. "...need... -h-help!"

"Who...am I talking to?"

"Patrick, please, help me," your voice sounded so clear now that it echoed inside my skull, drowning out all the sounds of the bad weather outside. "I'm...I'm at Paul Allen's...I need help...please...I think I'm gonna die..."

Was this some kind of prank? 

I turned around and scanned my apartment as if someone was watching me right now. I felt insane and cornered, if I was really losing my mind the best option now would be to take more coke and trigger an overdose and then...

"Can you hear me? Please, come here, I'll... give you the address..." and then I heard loud interference and noise, so I had to pull the phone away for a second. "Patrick? Please...talk to me!"

"What...what happened?" I asked, still not believing what I was doing. "Are you in pain?"

"No...yes....Patrick...listen...you should write down the address..."

Without thinking, I grabbed the Vogue magazine lying next to the phone and a pencil, and the next second I was writing down the address where Paul Allen was supposed to live. 

"Hold on! I'll be right there!" I suddenly said into the phone, but all I could hear was the agonizing beep. "Hey...I'll be there...do you hear me? I'LL BE THERE!"

Fuck!

I dropped the phone and took several deep breaths before I finally came to my senses, or so I thought. Then I rushed to the bathroom to clean up and put something on without worrying too much. So I grabbed the first suit out of my closet, fixed my hair and left my apartment to take a cab. All the way to Paul's, I was holding a crumpled page of Vogue that I had to rip out. At first I didn't even notice that I wasn't surprised when the cabbie just nodded and we drove off, so this address was real? It meant you really called me? And what about all the previous calls?

Perplexed, I leaned against the cool glass of the car window and watched the nighttime cityscape blur into something unrecognizable, almost falling asleep, but the driver turned on the radio with some cheesy pop songs that kept me awake, as I was too irritated to ignore how much I disliked such music. When the car stopped in front of a towering building like the one I lived in, I paid the driver twice what I was supposed to and got out of the cab. There were no pedestrians and for a moment I really thought that maybe I was still asleep and had to pinch myself to wake up in my living room?

As I entered the building I saw a table where the concierge should be sitting, but there was no one, so I casually opened the journal to find the number of Allen's apartment—I felt a creeping shock when I actually found his name in the journal.

Okay… this feels…too real.

Feeling a strange thrill of the rush, I closed the journal and sauntered quickly across the large lobby to the elevators. Paul's apartment was on the 15th floor, so when the door opened on the floor I needed, I stepped out of the elevator with a heavy weight in my chest. Every step I took resonated with the fast beating of my heart, and when I reached my destination, I didn't know what to do - whether to ring the bell or knock or…

Shaking myself off, I first rang the doorbell—nothing. Then I knocked several times, then again, still no answer. Finally, I put my ear to the door to listen, but I couldn't hear a single sound. Anger overcame me, so I kicked the door and turned to leave. How stupid was I? Maybe mixing my pills and coke wasn't the best idea, but this...

When I got back to the lobby, an old man, who must have been a missing concierge, greeted me with a fake polite smile. "Greetings, sir. How can I help you?"

Annoyed as hell, I stopped next to his small table, adjusted my leather gloves, and pointed to his journal. "I was looking for Paul Allen's apartment, he's my friend and I wanted to see him, but it seems...he's out tonight."

"Oh, Mr. Allen left on a business trip this morning." The concierge said casually, but then he noticed how pale I'd become. "Sir, is something wrong?"

"Did you say he left this morning?" I asked again, feeling a few beads of sweat on my tense forehead.

"Yes, sir," the old man opened the journal and began to leaf through it. "I can even tell you the exact time he left..."

"No need. Thank you." Was all I said before I turned on my heels and headed for the exit.

Outside I noticed that the taxi that had brought me here was still standing by the side of the road. It was strange but I didn't even think about it. I got in and asked the driver to take me back to my place, but first I asked him to give me a moment to sit and think. With shaking hands I picked up the crumpled piece of paper with the address on it, I traced my handwriting before throwing it out the window, my temples pounding so hard I thought my head would explode. Exhausted both mentally and physically, I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, not noticing that the concierge I was talking to literally ran out of the building, looking around, seeking someone.

"Let's go." I ordered the cab driver with my eyes still closed. "And can you please turn off the music...my head is killing me."

The taxi drove off and I didn't see or hear the old man following the car. "Sir, wait! I made a mistake about Mr. Allen-"

Today, after I refused to go shopping with Evelyn and help her choose a fucking curtain for her living room, she finally told me that she never loved me, that she wanted a divorce and nothing else from me. The relief I felt was comparable to a good orgasm, to say the least, Evelyn was shocked at my reaction—did she really expect me to beg for forgiveness? But the single mention of Bryce made everything come to its place, I wasn't angry, no, I just couldn't solve this fucking puzzle, what was all this for? If she really liked Bryce, why couldn't she just tell me and go for him? How many times had I told her that? A hundred? A thousand? Millions? Luckily, I wasn't inclined to leave my stuff in her apartment, so I finished my busing with 'moving out' pretty quickly and smoothly, because something glorious and important was waiting for me. The last moment of my drama.

I imagine that maybe someday there will be a show on Broadway based on my life—a great example of a life that no one should have lived—I smiled at the thought, as I always liked to romanticize things in the most clichéd and poetic way. After all, Bryce was right, I was mental, and no matter how hard I tried to run away from the dark version of myself, it would catch up with me one day. And that day seemed to have finally come.

As I walked down Wall Street, wearing my favorite headphones and listening to Huey Lewis and the News, I stumbled by the phone booth—a random idea plagued my mind before I could really think about it. Opening my briefcase, I found my notebook, and soon I was dialing your office number, hoping you wouldn't answer. But my hopes were never to be fulfilled. 

To my surprise, I heard a male voice coming from the phone and all the words stuck in my throat like a lump. "Uh...hi...can I talk to..."

"Sorry sir, I can't hear you properly...it might be the bad connection," the voice replied and it made me really nervous. "I'm sorry, but if you want to talk to my boss, they are out of the office right now."

Out of the office…shit.

"Who am I talking to?" I asked, almost fainting.

"Vinc..." an unpleasant static noise came over my brain and I held my eyes closed for a second from the stabbing pain in my temples. "My name is Vincent...I'm .... assistant."

"Listen, Vincent..." I started to speak, not even knowing that he could hear my words. "I want you to tell your boss that...Patrick Bateman called and...this would be my LAST call," I laughed hysterically, leaning against the phone booth door. "I'm going to, uh... disappear..."

A short pause seemed like an eternity.

"You mean you are leaving New York City, sir?" Vincent's question surprised me.

My lips twitched in a wicked smile. "No...I mean...yes..."

"Are you going somewhere in particular, Mr. Bateman?" The man asked me and I stopped breathing for a second.

"I'm going...to a place where no one will ever...find me..."

And with that I hung up the phone. There was already a line of people by the phone booth, and as I walked away, they looked at me with the most disdainful look I could ever dream of mastering. Unfortunately, I wouldn't need it anymore.

Soon the white walls of my apartment would be the only witness to my last confession. My apartment smelled so fresh and good, the maid had just finished cleaning, and I was glad that if the police found my body, they would see that wealth and money were not a panacea for a happy life, although I had believed in it fervently for almost all these years. With deliberate steps, I walked into my bathroom, grabbed a small bottle of medicine prescribed by my psychiatrist, and popped a handful of pills at once. Then I looked at my reflection in the mirror and somehow realized that the mask I had worn for most of my adult life was about to slip. Right now, at this very moment, I was about to die. An abnormal dizziness washed over me, I could barely stand on my feet when I suddenly saw your silhouette behind me in the mirror. I gulped and turned around to see nothing but the empty doorway, my hands shaking so badly that I failed to put the bottle back in its place, dropping it on the floor and scattering pills all over the bathroom.

Holy shit.

A strong gag reflex suddenly took over me and I managed to get to the toilet faster than I could throw up—I threw up all the pills—Jesus Christ, I was so weak I couldn't even finish this... I was so pathetic. In the end, I finally accepted that as the darkness took me in its cold embrace.

Knock…knock…

What is this? Am I still alive?

I kept questioning myself because I didn't feel anything, no pain, no remorse, nothing. But if I were dead, I wouldn't hear that strange sound, would I? I opened my wet eyes and looked up at the white ceiling—I was still in my bathroom— lying on my back, covered in my own vomit, saliva and bile. My mouth smelled like a rotten rat and I knew what I was talking about. The annoying knocking kept coming from my front door, and although I didn't want to get up, I felt that if I didn't, this fucking knocking would never stop.

With careful, unhurried movements, I crawled to the sink and, leaning on the bathroom counter, managed to stand up and quickly brush my teeth, avoiding looking at my reflection because I was sure I looked like shit. After that, I took off my stained clothes and put on a new robe that I had bought myself for no reason a few days ago. 

As I approached the front door, the knocking stopped and I thought it was just another hallucination, but I decided to open the door anyway and to my surprise I saw my concierge who looked very worried and even scared.

"Mr. Bateman, thank God you're all right!" The man blurted out, holding his concierge hat in his hands.

"Of course I'm okay," I replied nonchalantly. "What happened? Or did you just come to check on me?"

"Well," the concierge looked away before rubbing his gray mustache. "Someone was looking for you..."

My eyebrows furrowed, and I peered out into the long corridor. "Who was it? Did they give a name? Was it a policeman or something?" 

"No, sir." The old man gave me an awkward smile that made me even more angry. "They were so desperate...they were literally storming around the lobby...constantly saying things about you not answering calls and not opening the door...I told them maybe you just left..."

The rest of what he said fell on deaf ears, because now I was absolutely sure who was looking for me. "What time is it now?"

"11 a.m., sir."

"Today is Friday, right?" I asked, my head spinning. "It should be Friday."

The concierge paused. "It's Sunday, sir."

Sunday?

A sharp pang of nausea crept into my stomach, nearly breaking me in half, but I managed to grab hold of the doorjamb for support. "Where is this person?"

"Mr. Bateman, I had to call the police because they were being...kind of aggressive," the concierge explained, stepping back a bit. "The cops arrived pretty quickly...they found out this person had drugs, sir."

I stagger to the side as if from the hard blow. "And what happened next...did they arrest them?"

"I...I guess so?"

I let out a tired sigh, rolling my eyes and trying to keep it together - this poor guy was not guilty, it was just an accident, but how did you get caught with drugs? It was so fucking illogical to me.

My voice was unnaturally soft as I tried my fucking best not to snap at the man across from me. "Did the cops really take them away? Did you see that with your own eyes?" The concierge just nodded, and I could tell by his nervousness that he felt it was his fault at some level. "All right, thank you for your information, remind me to tip you next month." And with that, I closed the front door, leaving the man in a completely bewildered state.

Shit...this whole situation seemed like a fucking joke, but I had to think fast—I needed a plan how to solve this bullshit and maybe I could get some answers if I could help you. I took a moment to collect myself and told myself that one way or another I had to go there...to rescue you.

I'll do it even if I have to burn down this police station.

In record time, my impeccable appearance was ready, and now I confidently walked down the long, dimly lit corridor of the police station that was closest to where I lived—I hoped you were in that station, but if not, I would visit all of them until I found you.

Finally, I reached the reception area, where a pretty policewoman greeted me with a friendly smile. "Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for..." I opened my briefcase and showed her my notebook with your full name written in it. "Are they here, in this department? I believe they were arrested today."

The officer smiled at me before she turned around and started to rummage through some papers, folds, notes... With each passing moment I was getting more and more impatient, but I had to play it cool.

"I think I found the person you were looking for," the woman said, placing several documents on the reception desk, implying that I should take a look at them. "They were delivered here an hour ago."

"Can I see them?" I asked, putting on my casual, seductive smile.

“And what is your relationship to the suspect?” 

Damn, not this fucking question.

I was a little stunned at first, but then I quickly tugged at my red tie and tilted my head in a condescending way. "I'm their lawyer, and I need to see them as soon as possible."

I noticed that her expression suddenly changed, her eyes gliding over my massive form—she was obviously trying to access my appearance and compare it to the look of a successful lawyer living in New York City—when I gave her an intense look and then winked, she visibly blushed.

After a small cough, she took the documents and only then dared to look at me again. "The suspect is now in interrogation room number one. Don't get lost."

"Thanks." I grinned broadly and, after closing my briefcase, left the reception.

It didn't take me long to find the interrogation room I needed. As I stopped right next to the door, I checked myself in the reflection of the nearby window—I looked perfect, not as perfect as I used to be, but not too horrible either.

A light knock on the door before I opened it. "Good afternoon, sorry for the long wait. How is my client? I hope you haven't done anything inappropriate in my absence?"

The moment our eyes met, I could see a mixture of shock, disbelief, and something beyond human understanding.

"And who the hell is that?" One of the officers—a rather fat guy with a messy beard—asked his partner, then looked at you. "You said you were from Chicago and your lawyer had to catch a flight here."

"Yes, that's exactly what I said. Why are you telling me my own words?" You crossed your arms and gave me a scorching gaze, I seized the moment of your confusion to nestle into the empty chair next to you. "Probably...my lawyer has handed this case over to his colleague in New York, so he doesn't have to come here."

Both policemen looked at us as if we were idiots—which we definitely were—but I hoped this affair would work out.

"But you asked to be allowed to make a phone call... the whole damn time," another policeman replied, pointing his finger at you and then at me. "I'm going to send you both to jail if you don't tell me what-"

"Jesus Christ, I told you several times...I was at a party...I took someone's coat by mistake and there was...this fucking bag of cocaine, but it's not mine! You can check the fingerprints and you won't find mine on this fucking bag! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?"

"My client is right. Before we get the results of the fingerprint analysis, the presumption of innocence should not be forgotten." I started in the most serious tone I could manage. "Remember that."

Both officers started arguing with each other almost immediately, using many different insults that I would definitely have to remember so that I could present them to Tim— he would love to hear them. I was about to say something clever when the door suddenly opened and a woman with dark hair stepped into the room.

"What the hell is going on?" The woman asked her colleagues, looking disappointed and quite angry. "Everyone can hear you outside."

"Oh, Miss Moore," one of the officers murmured like a guilty child. "Well, we..."

"Detective Moore to you, Rogers," she replied, her posture radiating confidence. You and I both stared at her for a while, I noticed her tanned skin and thick curly hair, she was definitely Hispanic, the accent was also quite noticeable. "Can I confide in you at least once?" Officer Rogers looked at his partner, neither of them said a word, and that made the detective even more annoyed. "We'll talk about it later, now go."

The cops didn't dare protest, and soon they left. Now it was just you, me and Detective Moore in the interrogation room. The tension was palpable in the air, my hands were sweaty and shaking, I had to brush them off my open coat, but before I could, you caught one of them and squeezed it barely sensibly—I gasped, almost choking on my saliva.

After a brief examination of the documents, the woman across from us raised her brown eyes and smiled, not too friendly, but not too menacing either. "So, my name is Andrea Moore," she turned to look at you, holding a piece of paper in her hand. "I already know your name," her piercing gaze finally stopped on me. "May I have your documents, sir?"

Swallowing hard, I unlocked my briefcase to hand her my ID. "Yeah, sure."

"Mr. Bateman...have we met before?"

"No...I don't think so."

Andrea hummed to herself. "Well, I hope you brought your law license with you?" 

Your grip on my palm tightened, I almost let out a hysterical squeal. "I... I must have left it in my office."

"Listen," you suddenly spoke up, gesticulating as if you were at a school presentation. "I need to call my assistant, Vincent Eisenhower...he will help sort things out-"

"Wait a minute...did you say Vincent Eisenhower?" Andrea suddenly stopped you, obviously surprised.

"Uh, yeah, he's my assistant at the company I work-" 

"...in Chicago?" 

"Yes..." you replied in confusion. "Is there something wrong with that?"

The detective didn't answer, and it made me nervous as hell, but you holding my hand in a gentle manner was strangely comforting, even though I despised such displays of affection.

Looking puzzled, Andrea finally took the pen and a clean piece of paper. "Can you give me the number...I'll call Mr. Eisenhower and ask him for...a real lawyer. Mr. Bateman, I hope you understand the consequences of your actions-"

"Leave him alone, it's not his fault," you cut Andrea off before I could say anything in my defense. "He didn't know what he was doing coming here...please...he hasn't done anything bad...he's just going through a hard time in his life and..."

"Enough," the detective raised her hand in a halting gesture. "I hope I can reach out to Mr. Eisenhower....You two better pray for that."

Andrea left as abruptly as she had come. We were finally alone. Both confused, frightened, and lost.

"Why did you even come here?" You asked, not looking at me, but not parting our hands. "How stupid of you to come here and act like you were my lawyer."

"I HAD NO CHOICE!" I almost screamed, turning in my seat to cut the mere distance between us. "Not after you terrorized me with those damn phone calls..."

As I said that, time stood still for us and I could see the inner conflict in your deep, mesmerizing eyes—you were broken and lost just like me—I looked down at our intertwined hands, waiting for your answer.

"What calls, Patrick? What are you talking about?" 

"You know WHAT I'm talking about...don't try to fuck with my brain," I husked, inches from your lips. "You think this is funny, huh?" 

"And you think it's funny to call my office and tell my assistant about your suicidal intentions?" Your warm breath wafted pleasantly around my face as you moved closer. "You think it's funny to appear and disappear in my life like I'm a toy you can play with whenever you feel bored?"

At first I didn't answer. Instead, I just kept eye contact with you, then I lowered my eyes to our hands again—my palm was bigger than yours, this little detail always made my heart flutter. Did I ever think that such a small thing would stir such strong emotions in me? Probably not.

Definitely not.

"By the way, did you manage to find out anything about that machine you told me about?" I questioned abruptly, putting my arm around your shoulders. 

You frowned and chuckled in disbelief. Well, at least the tension was relieved.

"What machine?" You fidgeted in your seat as I pulled you closer. "Hey, don't change the subject..."

"A memory reboot machine," I crooned, leaning forward so our noses rubbed against each other. "If you're here... that means you probably didn't find it."

The urge to indulge in this moment, to follow the passionate momentum and just kiss these lips I'd been thinking about all along, was unbearable, but I didn't want to be the first to fall apart and drop my defenses.

"Maybe I never needed this machine," you replied, pressing your forehead against mine for a brief moment. "Because I never wanted to forget...you?"

Was it a question or a statement—we never knew as we both moved towards each other, my burning lips pressed against your soft ones as we shared the most desirable kiss I could ever imagine. Gasping into my mouth, you let go of my hand only to wrap both of them around my neck as you responded with no less favor than mine. It was so hot, so desperate, so tragic. And it was all mine— your pain, your anger, your hatred.

Because you were my salvation.

With precise deftness, I carefully tilted your head back a little to deepen the kiss, my arms eagerly but not persistently roving around your back, knowing every little detail of your body, every dent and bump. As much as I wanted to tell you how fucking perfect you were for me, I didn't want this kiss to end, but as if you could read my mind, you suddenly pulled me away a little too abruptly and roughly.

"God, I hate you..." you wept, covering your face so I couldn't see your tears. "I really... I really thought you were going to do something bad... I was afraid it was too late..."

I was at a loss, I didn't know how to react or what to say—everything about you confused me, made my brain overload with different thoughts about what you said and why—now was no exception.

"But I'm here now...in one piece," I decided not to touch you, my hand resting on the back of your chair, ready to hug you at any moment if it was needed. "You should understand that...if I really wanted to do this, no one would be able to stop me..." I whisper above your ear and place my hand on the back of your head, gently stroking your hair as you rest your head on the table. "Even you."

I knew that this confession would mean nothing, just like all my previous ones, but as soon as I said it, you raised your tear-stained eyes and whimpered. "Don't say that...don't fucking say that! You can be a total asshole, but that doesn't mean you deserve to die..."

"Darling," I gently brushed your stray locks from your face, trying to distract you and keep you from saying words that would only make things worse. "You know so little about me...but I don't want you to say something you'll regret..."

"I've already said too many things that I now regret," you replied, turning away from me. "Have you ever thought about your family and how they would react if something bad happened to you? Have you thought about Evelyn?"

My eyebrows knitted together, the words you said pierced my heart like sharp daggers, but I didn't want you to stop, because you were right, I was always selfish, but you knew so little about my family, who would surely be sad about the loss, but they would recover pretty quickly, since they still had Sean. And Evelyn? I would laugh if things were not so sad.

Trembling and sobbing, you still sat with your back to my face. "I'm not going to ask you for anything except to promise me that you'll never even think about...hurting yourself."

Oh, dear.

With a soft clink of my chair, I stood up and placed both of my hands on your trembling shoulders. "I promise... if you stay with me, I'll never look back... on my previous life." I felt your body tense under my touch. "We can't reboot the memory, but we can...reboot our lives?"

This was it—the moment I had fantasized about so many times, considering different outcomes, scenarios—I was waiting for your answer when the door creaked and Detective Moore appeared in my vision. She was much more cheerful than before, which worried me a bit.

"So," she took a seat, opened a folder with documents and wrote something on it. "I spoke to Vince, and luckily for you, he has already contacted your lawyer-"

"Vince?" You asked in shock, but at least you stopped crying.

Andrea stuttered and cleared her throat. "I mean..." she paused and twirled the pen in her hand. "It happened that Vincent and I used to know each other..."

What?

We were both speechless, how the hell could such a coincidence have happened? 

"Well... I really didn't see it coming..." You murmured, brushing the remnants of tears from your face.

"Neither did I," the detective chuckled curtly before resuming her work on some papers. "Listen, we should wait for the results of the fingerprint analysis, and while we wait, you are forbidden to leave the city. Please put your sign here."

"What is this?"

"Your ticket to freedom," she explained. "A street bail."

I saw you hesitate, so I gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and you looked at me, I simply nodded, and you placed the sign. 

"And how long have you known Vincent?" You asked after you handed the document back to Andrea. "Just asking."

"Since childhood, I think."

"Oh... that's... a lot."

"Vince has always been known for being a good boy..." the woman paused, coughing awkwardly. "Uh, you can talk to him about... that if you're interested." Andrea closed the folder and shifted her gaze to me. "And you, I highly recommend that you never do anything like this again."

"So you're not going to put me in a cell?" I replied in a slightly teasing manner.

"No...not this time. But the officer who allowed you to come here will be severely punished, maybe even fired," Andrea explained, getting up from her chair. "It's her first day at the police station, but she let a man go through without even checking his papers. Such violations are very serious."

And although I didn't feel sad for this woman I would probably never see again, I looked at you and your big doe eyes. "Maybe there's a way not to fire her? I assured her that I was a lawyer and...I could pay a fine if I had to."

Detective Moore said nothing, she just grinned and beckoned us to follow her.

An hour later we finally left the police station. For some time we walked in complete silence, the surrounding commotion drawing out my shallow breathing, my mind overclocked with the search for topics to talk about after all the shit that had happened.

"So... where did you stay?" I asked casually, looking at you from above, your eyelashes shimmering in the sunlight. "In the Plaza?"

"No," you replied almost immediately. "Not the Plaza this time...it was all booked up."

"You were really in New York... for the whole time?"

"Depends on what time you mean exactly," your slight smile made me almost stumble, but I pretended to see someone familiar. "Maybe I haven't left New York at all?"

No, that can't be.

"You know, since you can't leave the city... maybe we should spend some time together and... you didn't answer my question."

My offer made you stall, and I followed suit. Passers-by walked past us, not paying attention even though we were standing in the middle of the street.

"Was it really a question?"

"And what do you think it was?"

"A plea?" You smiled and stepped closer to me until there was no space between us. "If you weren't so stubborn...everything could be so much easier."

"And YOU tell me that?" I let myself pull you closer to me. "I have an idea...fuck the place where you stopped! We should go to Newport."

"Newport? Would it count that I left New York?" you asked me a little shyly. "Do you have a house there or...?"

"My family has a house there and since they are out of town we can use it to kill time...have you ever been to Newport?" My hands rested possessively on your waist and before I knew it, I added. "Me and Evelyn are getting divorced..."

"No, I haven't," you replied, finally resting your hands on my shoulders. "But I really want to...since I've heard a lot of good things about this place..." then you suddenly froze. "What... What did you say? Are you kidding me? God, I can't believe this...I..."

You continued to bubble something that made me smile in amusement and I couldn't help but hold you tightly in my arms— the place you always belonged to, though I understood it too late. The fresh breeze of change swirled around us, playing with our hair and clothes. Yesterday I didn't know if I would make it to tomorrow, but today I was sure that there would be so many tomorrows because I wasn't alone anymore.

With you, for you, in your name—I was still alive and finally free.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

[imagionationstation]

Yours - Feral Raphie AU

“Leonardo, I want to see him.”

“I know, I know, but we’re trying to keep him from being overwhelmed and I don’t-”

“If it is possible that I can be of assistance in returning his memories, then shouldn’t I have a chance to try?”

“Mona…” Leonardo trails off and Mona paces on the rooftop of the warehouse where she’d taken refuge when their conversation got heated. She wants to see her boyfriend. It had been several weeks since his rescue, and she had every right to visit her Raphael.

Yet Leonardo was stubborn, and it didn’t sit right to invade the turtle brothers’ home without their sensei’s permission. It was one of the very few times in her life that she found a strong dislike for an aspect of her warrior’s conditioning.

“I should warn you that I am on the verge of coming over there myself if I do not get some form of consent soon.” No, she was not, and she would never. A moment of quiet, muffled voices, and then-

“How far are you?”

Her heart lurches. “Mutanimal’s.”

“Alright.” He sounds pensive, and her grip on the t-phone Donatello had graciously given her tightens. “You can come over, just don’t hurry and… Mona, he’s not going to be your Raph.”

She swallows, but her voice is firm. “I am on my way.”

“See you in a bit.”

She hangs up, and sprints to Slash to warn him of where she’s going, promising to let him know when she leaves the turtle’s home. With his authority backing her up, she stops by her resting area, and then she’s off.

“Mona!” Raphael’s cheery little brother greets her as she crosses from the tracks to the turnstiles, apparently on guard for her arrival. Her eyes scan for her boyfriend even as she announces, “Greetings. Leonardo said I can come over. Where is he?”

“Leo?” Mikey studies the box in her arms. “Getting stuff ready. What’s that? Gift for Raph?”

She meets his eyes, offering a sheepish smile. “…Something like that.”

She opens the lid covered in holes, and Mikey’s eyes widen. “CHOMPY!”

He scoops up the little alien as Chompy squeals his delight, nuzzling the tiny face against his beak. “Aw, I missed you so much, lil’ guy! Have you been having fun with mama Mona?”

She sets the box on the turnstile next to them, uncertain how to respond to such a nickname, but allowing it to slide because Raph never denied his “dada Raph” title. She chalks it up to yet another strange human thing.

“You never mentioned Chompy.”

She glances over at Leonardo as he approaches, meeting his gaze evenly. “You said that he responds negatively to humans and mutants because of their intimating factor, but did not immediately try to inflict harm upon your Icecream pet. It seems unlikely that he would attack beings that he does not find intimidating, and this youngling is the least intimidating alien in many galaxies.”

She pauses in consideration and corrects, “For now.”

He stares at her, and then shakes his head with a light chuckle. “Good to see you too, Mona.”

She smiles and shakes the hand not offered for battle. “Likewise, Leonardo. Can we see him?”

He nods, and she notices how tired he looks, normally confident stance more subdued. She will never admit how worried it makes her. “Come on. He’s in the dojo.”

Mikey hops off the turnstile, cooing to the alien turtle happily viewing his home from his place cupped in two hands. Mona crosses into the lair, following the turtles to the dojo, heart racing with anticipation. Leo stops at the dojo entrance, and with a tone full of forced cheer, calls out, “Donnie! We have a friend here to see us.”

There is an abnormal amount of emphasis on friend, and an uneasy feeling creeps on her. Leonardo enters the dojo, and Mikey steps back, politely waiting for her to step past before following. Or perhaps he’s simply making sure that the stronger warriors go first in case something goes wrong. She glances at Chompy, something akin to regret settling, and then steps into the dojo.

The room is just as majestic as the last time she stood in it’s walls, the large tree presiding over the room like a guardian, but this time, there is a pile of blankets and pillows underneath the family alter. A low growl draws her attention to the white eyes glaring from underneath one of the larger blankets.

Leonardo stiffens, but Donatello appears unfazed. He leans his weight against him, effectively using him to balance as his legs stretch out, a laptop resting on his lap. He reaches to the left to gently bonk his head with his fist. A sharp hiss, and Donnie rolls his eyes, “Leo said our friend, Raph. As in, not a threat.”

A moment of pause, and then a low growl. Donnie huffs, resuming his typing. “This is why you don’t have any friends.”

Leonardo looks at his younger brother wryly. “Donnie.”

“Hmm?”

“We have a guest.”

“Mhmm.”

“Someone none of us have seen in weeks.”

“Mhmm.”

Leo gives up. “So say hi.”

“Oh.” Donatello looks up and meets her gaze, offering a polite smile. “Hi, Mona.”

He goes back to typing and Leonardo throws up his hands as if he’s a hopeless case. Mona takes a few steps closer, and Raph’s growls resume. She pauses in consideration. “Raphael?”

White eyes glare back at her. The growl increases in volume.

Mona tilts her head curiously, trying to find any true aggression or fear, but only spotting impudence. He is putting on a show in the hopes of scaring her off.

Cute.

She can sense Leonardo shift nervously. “I wouldn’t get to close.”

“Duly noted.” Mona knows exactly how to deal with unruly, territorial earth animals. Raphael himself had felt it necessary to teach her. “Donatello, could you move aside?”

Donatello looks up, blinks twice, and then looks at Leonardo.

Leo frowns, “I don’t think-“

“Donatello, move aside.”

Donatello gets up, and Raphael releases a sharp hiss that sends him quickly stepping backwards, lest he be punished for his betrayal. Once she feels there is a sufficient amount of distance, she purposefully strides over to her boyfriend, pulling the blanket off.

Apparently startled by her audacity, he scrambles back on all fours, raising his haunches and baring his teeth. He looks uncertain, like he can’t decide if she’s a danger. He’s not wearing his gear, and he appears younger without it, fiery emerald gaze no longer framed by the reflective red.

She kneels down, and waits for it to register that she is no longer at a threatening height. He takes a wary step closer, clearly having little idea of what to make of her, sniffing in her general direction. She reaches out, and he snaps at her fingers.

Her eyes narrow. Leo starts to speak, but she cuts him off with a curt, “Raphael, if you attempt to bite me again, I will not hesitate to bite back.”

He blinks. She glares. Raph sits down.

“WHAT?!”

Mona ignores the chorused cry and gently cups both sides of his face, brushing a thumb over one of the scars. He stares back at her, eyes squinted the way they always did when he was thinking hard, and she can’t help the small smile, “I have missed you, Raphael.”

A soft, curious chirp, and she hums, “There’s someone else here who has missed you too.”

He looks passed her, scanning the area on alert as Mikey walks up. Before any of them can react, Chompy lets loose a high-pitch squeal and launches himself from Mikey’s palms, hitting the floor and skidding just in front of Raph. He continues to chirp his joy as Raph lowers himself to the ground so they’re face to face, studying the alien with dialated eyes.

He pokes the spikey shell. Chompy churrs and nuzzles against his beak, and Raph’s expression brightens, sitting up and scooping the small form into his palms. He presents Chompy to Mona as if to share his discovery, and she chuckles, “That is Chompy Picasso. He is yours.”

As if to confirm, Chompy nips his hand. Raph yelps and tears his hands away, and Mona catches the happily squeaking turt before he hits the ground. Raph leans his hands on the floor, watching him rest his plastron on her fingers, little feet swinging in the air as he pants estatically. Raph’s eyes are round with the innocence and awe that Mona had fallen in love with, and she can’t help it if she closes the distance between them to press a kiss on his forehead.

He looks at her as she pulls away, and she is relieved that he doesn’t seem upset. Her eyes soften, a warmth flowing through her chest at the timid way he’s looking at her, like he thinks he should understand, but can’t. She shifts Chompy into one hand, and takes his hand in her own. “It is alright. No matter what form you come in, you are my Raphael, and I would relieve those nights of worry a hundred times over, as long as it means you always come back to me.”

She thinks something sparks in his gaze, but she can’t tell what. His voice is tentative, “Yours?”

“Always.” She swears with every inch of her being, squeezing his hand. He squeezes back, and leans forward to lovingly bump her face with his own. She would have gladly stayed in that movement forever, but she hadn’t taken one thing into account.

“AWWEEEE- ay!”

Ah yes. Their audience.

Raph pulls away and looks past her to glare at his siblings, and she can’t help the grin. He was definitely still her Raphael. Mona sets Chompy on the ground and he begins prancing between them, churring like one of the older earth vehicles.

Leonardo is flushing as he moves his hand from Mikey’s head to rub the back of his own. “Sorry.”

“If you wouldn’t mind, I trust it’s safe enough for me to request some privacy now.” Mona hints as Chompy begins trying to climb Raphael.

Leo and Mikey look like they’re going to refuse- possibly for entirely different reasons- and Donnie tucks the laptop under his arm, pushing both brothers out by their carapaces. “Don’t leave him alone and Mikey will bring food by later!”

“I will?” Mikey questions as they disappear from sight.

She looks back at Raphael, and watches him set Chompy on his shoulder, an action done more out of instinct than anything else. Her eyes dart between his face and Chompy’s for a moment, before she quietly questions, “Raphael, do you know who I am?”

He gets halfway through a nod before he looks uncertain, staring past her for a second. His mouth opens and closes, nails unconscious digging into the carpet beneath them, forehead creasing as an anxious expression crosses his features.

“Raphael.” She interrupts firmly, drawing his attention back to her. He looks guilty, shrinking his head into his shell with a sad chirp, before shrugging weakly.

“My earth name is Mona Lisa. You named me.” She informs him carefully, scanning for any signs of recognition. He appears mildly interested, and she takes his hand, thinking back to when they first met. She squeezes, and he scoots closer.

“Let me tell you a story.”

[fanfic-scribbles]

Dinner Date Chapter 28

Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers has a girlfriend. A prickly, generally asocial girlfriend, but they make it work. They have more in common than some people might think.

Quick Facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 28: A Celebration of Life

Chapter Summary: Steve gets an early birthday present, and reflects on good things past and present.

Chapter Word Count: 4342

A/N: This frigging chapter. It took some work but I’m finally pretty happy with it, and I hope you all have fun with it too. Warning for the very end: there is a section marked ~extra~ that goes into third person, present tense from an outside perspective. It was a little experiment and if you don’t like it I don’t think you have to read it since it is slightly divorced from what this fic is actually about, but…it does hint at something that will come up again in the future. Not any time soon, judging by how much work this chapter took, but… :3 Anyways. Enjoy!

~

Watching Pepper on the phone was an…experience.

Steve was doing some Avengers stuff in the training room and he was late so I ended up waiting in one of the upper floors, because apparently leaving to chill at a coffee shop was ‘weird’ and ‘anti-social’ and the day Tony Stark got to brag about being a better-adjusted human being was the day I bit off my own tongue. So there I was, drink in hand, with Pepper for company, while Pepper was still technically working. Or something.

What could have been an unbearably awkward situation though became a masterclass in how a functional adult handled a difficult phone call. At least, I assumed it was difficult. I sort of hoped it was difficult because if this was what she had to deal with normally that was fucked. I tried not to stare, and she was far enough away, (in this giant room bigger than most city apartments), that words filtered in and out, and she danced the line between patient and patronizing in a way her voice kind of masked but her facial expressions betrayed. It was kind of hilarious, at points, but eventually her expression relaxed, her shoulders sank, and she said, “Thank you,” in a way only the truly tired could, and after a few more pleasantries she lowered the phone, let out a heavy sigh, and detoured back to grab something from the fridge before she came back to the sitting area.

“I am so sorry about that,” she said and fell back onto the chair next to me.

“Oh, no, don’t be–” I said and waved her off, only realizing that was my drink hand just before I could slosh liquid onto a couch that probably cost more than my rent, and quickly settled back down. “I’m sorry for crashing.” I could only bite my tongue so far though. “However, no offense, but Tony Stark doesn’t get to be right about anything, ever, if I have a say in it.”

“That’s the only right way to deal with him,” she agreed. She popped the tab on her can, whatever was inside fizzed, and she took a long drink. Even that looked refined when she did it. She breathed a sigh of relief. “In any case, I have most of his birthday sorted, so that’s one thing off my plate.”

I nodded. Tony Stark’s birthday would be a huge to-do– wait. “Wait.” Wait. “Didn’t…didn’t he just have a birthday?”

“I start planning well in advance,” Pepper said. She gave me a very tired look. “Do you have any idea how hard he is to shop for?”

“God I can only imagine,” I said, because even without the obscene amount of money…yeah. I had decided to err on the side of liking Tony Stark, (especially after he had that PR ‘snafu’ for going off on that asshole who had been snarkily homophobic about Steve), but he was, and probably always would be, A Lot. “That must be nice to have it all set up though. I just barely found something for Steve’s birthday.”

Pepper got a look on her face that felt familiar. Though whether that was a ‘Steve’ grimace or a ‘another fucking gift-giving holiday’ grimace I was a little unsure of. “Speaking of people hard to shop for…” She sighed and rubbed her head.

I could sympathize. Hardcore. “If you really want to get him something he’d be fine even with a nice message on a pretty card.”

She gave me a ‘seriously?’ look, so I said, “Seriously.” And I (seriously) thought about it. “Heartfelt can be hard though, so I get it. But he really isn’t fussy. Charity donation in his name? A ‘get out of PR jail free’ card the next time he pisses off Fox News?”

She seemed to consider it, but then shook her head. “What did you get him?”

I puffed up, because my gift was awesome. “Concert tickets for an act and opener he’s going to love, and I’ve planned out dinner at a place he hasn’t been to yet.” It was torture to have to wait on the second one, but it was going to be worth it. Pepper was right; Steve was awful to buy for and always insisted he didn’t need anything and I was about to score ‘best girlfriend ever’ points for at least a month. I could only hope the memory of this birthday would help ease the sting of the future gifts I was inevitably going to whiff it on.

“That sounds wonderful,” Pepper said. Calculating. I did not like that. “How good are the tickets?”

Yeah, I really didn’t like that. “They’re perfect.”

She smiled deviously. “I bet I can get you better ones.”

“Nuh uh, paws off,” I said and mimed smacking her hands away. “This is my gift. You go get your own.”

She faked a heavy sigh– the smile gave her right away. “Any suggestions?”

I shrugged. “Are there any art things going on?”

It was a sort of flippant suggestion– she seemed like a fancy, in-the-know lady, and fancy, in-the-know ladies would know about stuff like art shows. However, I realized we both understood it for the surprisingly good suggestion it was at the same time. A part of me was a little bummed I hadn’t thought to bank that for myself for another time. A bigger part of me though was pretty happy to look smart in front of Pepper Potts. Also being helpful to Steve’s friends was nice or whatever.

And by the near-glow of her eyes, she already had a good idea, which was going to be good for Steve, so I couldn’t be too upset about it. “That. Is genius.”

I shrugged and tried not to smile as hard as I wanted to. “I try.”

“Do you know what kind of art he likes best?” she asked, whipping out her phone and tapping at the screen with furious purpose.

“He varies a lot and I haven't delved into his absolute favorites yet,” I admitted. It seemed to change by the week sometimes. “He posts some stuff on social media and goes around there liking things. Though if I could say one thing, I would advise you to be careful of abstract. Some of it he really likes and some of it he really fucking hates and I have no idea where that line is.”

“It’s okay; this– I think he’ll like this. It’ll be a little early but…” she said and beamed at me as she held the phone up to her ear. ‘Thank you!’ she mouthed and walked off before starting a whole new conversation.

I shrugged and leaned back against the couch. Since it involved Steve, I’d probably find out why she seemed so excited soon enough.

~

A few days later counted for soon enough. “So,” Steve said, fake-casual as he slid onto the couch next to me. Why he bothered trying to attempt casual with that barely-suppressed grin on his face, I could not fathom.

“So,” I said and kissed him, because he really was too cute to resist sometimes.

“So,” he repeated, but slipped his arm behind me and cupped my hip in a way that told me we could continue that line of activities later. “Pepper got me two tickets to an art gallery I’ve been looking forward to,” he said, focusing again. “Opening night of a new exhibit. Would you come with me?”

“That sounds great,” I said. “Pepper doesn’t want to go with you?”

“She’ll be there, but she said she’s going to be networking,” Steve said. “This way we can come and go whenever we want. I’ve been to a couple of showings; most of the time the people there are too snooty to care about Captain America hanging around, but I’ve seen previews of the pieces that are going to be there and they look amazing…”

Steve continued to go on about some of the artists and that somehow led to lighting and negative space and tonality and I sort of lost the thread after a while but I couldn’t help it– interesting though it was, it was more interesting to watch him go off into his own little world, smiling so easily as he talked about art education videos he was watching and he was just so happy that I couldn’t help but stare at him and soak it all in.

When he took a moment to go to the bathroom, I snuck out my phone and opened up my text log with Pepper.

Me: A++++ gift giving he’s going to be excited all the way to it Pepper: Thank you for the excellent idea Pepper: I hope I’ll see you there? Me: Definitely

“Who are you texting?” Steve asked as he sat back down and pulled my legs into his lap.

“Pepper. I was just telling her she did a great job with your gift,” I said and put my phone down.

“Really?” He let out a sigh of relief. “I was afraid I was boring you already.”

“I like hearing you talk about it,” I said. “I like hearing you happy and excited.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s almost like I care about you or some bullshit.”

“Well that can’t be right,” Steve said, but he was smiling too hard to be serious. “You have a reputation and all.”

“Damn right I do,” I said, and opened my arms. “Now get over here and ruin it.”

His grin was a little more wicked for what I had meant by that but, well.

I definitely didn’t mind his definition of ruin.

~

Art parties had pretty great food.

Well, this one did. The drinks were a little substandard but I kept an eye on the waiters with the finger platters at almost all times as I wandered around with Steve who, true to his prediction, did not get glommed on at all. I also watched for snootiness but everything felt really oddly chill and relaxed and…nice. It wasn’t as fancy as I had feared, but it definitely still cleaved to the nice side, and we had dressed up accordingly, but everyone really did seem to be there for the art, which was also pretty awesome.

And then there was Steve. He mostly stuck by me as we wandered from piece to piece, and whenever the artist was around and willing to talk with him, he always took the chance. So far he had a hundred percent success rate in surprising them by actually knowing his shit, and that was kind of vindictively fun to watch. I hadn’t paid attention to the theming and was at the point where I was too embarrassed to ask, but it seemed like a new art take on classic pieces and movements of the past. Leyendecker through a Warhol lens which had a companion piece of Warhol but make it like Leyendecker. Art deco graffiti. Alphonse Mucha if his seasons were made in the era of global warming.

So it was pretty fantastic. And we even got to hang out with Pepper for a little bit, the three of us stealing away to a corner with a small pile of pilfered snacks and drinks.

“You really do find the best hideouts,” Pepper told me appreciatively.

“I take my duties as resident miser very seriously,” I said, and tried not to beam too much at the compliment. Steve was grinning at me though, and when Pepper was distracted by saying hi to someone, I threw a napkin at his face.

“I saw that,” she said, but with a wicked smirk. She then stood up and straightened the end of her form-fitting dress. “Steve, have you seen the hallway gallery yet?”

Steve and I both peered where she was gesturing; a very wide hallway with good lighting that not many people were going down now. “Not yet,” he said as we both sat back.

She smiled cryptically. “I think you should. There’s a really great artist– well, several of course, but there’s one with a piece in particular that I…I think you might like.”

She escaped with a quick farewell, and I munched on the last of the snacks. “Mysterious,” I said once I was dusting my hands of the crumbs.

Steve stood and held his hand to me. “Let’s go find out, Watson.”

I scoffed, but took his hand. “I’m way more of a social disaster than you,” I said as we walked. “I should get to be Sherlock.”

“Solving mysteries seems like a lot of work though,” he said.

“True,” I admitted.

We meandered leisurely down the hallway, looking at each art piece and leaving the scarce few people behind as we went. I remembered briefly looking down this area at the start of the night and thinking, ‘Nope,’ with the ridiculous amount of people that had been down here before, but apparently they had all seen what there was to see, leaving us to enjoy it practically on our own.

“This is nice–” I suddenly bumped into Steve. “Oof!” I quickly backed up a few steps and he remained. Stock still. “Steve?” I asked, but he was staring up at the wall to my right, his expression stricken, and I turned to see what had him by the metaphorical throat. It was a mural, massive, and it took me a second for it to all come into view. When it did, when the image of a man with a very familiar visage fell into place, all I could manage was a soft, “Oh.”

“Bucky,” Steve said in an awed exhalation. I looked from him, to the painting, and back and forth again. He seemed to be taking it all in and I had nothing I could think to say, so I did much the same. It was a beautiful work of art; colors faded seamlessly together and words of varying sizes acted as modified stippling to create the whole image of one James Buchanan Barnes, larger than life like a comic book hero, but with a serious set to his face, wearing the iconic jacket, and fading out where it looked like he’d be holding a gun in his arms.

After several minutes of utter silence, I tentatively rubbed Steve’s arm. He flinched a little, but gave me a small, slightly twisted smile. “Sorry,” I said. “I just wanted to make sure you were still breathing.”

He huffed a laugh, but his eyes looked a little wet and he blinked furiously. “It’s…I’m sorry; it’s…”

I squeezed his arm. “Hey,” I said softly. “It’s okay. It’s always okay and it’s always going to be okay.”

He swallowed and sniffled, but through sheer stubbornness did not let go of one single manly tear. Crying in public did suck though, so I wasn’t about to give him a hard time about it. I rubbed his arm up and down as comfortingly as I could, trying to help, and he moved slightly to take the hand I wasn’t using. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it,” he admitted softly, and gave me a weak smile.

“I know,” I said softly. I would have kissed him if I could have gotten away with it, but someone was walking down the hall towards us, so all I could manage was a brief but tight squeeze of his hand before I let go entirely, and he visibly tried to brace himself for the oncoming interaction.

“Hello!” a breathless woman said as she approached. She looked young but carried herself confidently, dressed in a stylish combination of pants, half-skirt, and suit-top, with locs in a beautiful half up-do that framed her face and cascaded down past her shoulders. “I was told there was someone who–”

As soon as she saw Steve, a lot of that confidence just evaporated and she froze with kind of an ‘urk!’ look on her face. As the seconds ticked on and Steve didn’t (probably couldn’t) speak, I squared up and hoped I wasn’t going to make a mess of things. I cleared my throat. “Are you the artist?” I asked. She looked at me, still a little frozen, but she managed a jerky nod and pulled her shoulders down from her ears. “It’s beautiful,” I said as emphatically as I could.

She seemed a little reassured, but her eyes flicked back to Steve, who was looking at it again. He swallowed and managed to look at her, a small smile on his face. “Absolutely amazing,” he said.

She exhaled such a long breath that I had to bite my hand not to laugh, while Steve was startled into doing just that. “I’m so sorry,” she said and waved her hand, relaxing a lot more as she walked closer. “My brother told me someone was standing over here but he didn’t mention who, and when I saw you, I wasn’t sure if it was uh…offensive?”

“In your brother’s defense, no one’s come that close so he probably didn’t get a good look at me,” Steve said, still a little dreamy as he looked at the picture. After a second though he frowned and looked at the woman, more focused. “Why would it be– it’s not offensive; it’s incredible. And I mean technically too; the way you…”

He drew closer to her, talking about the art itself, and she snapped into being a professional, talking to him, explaining the piece that was part of a series on the Howling Commandos, and I stepped back to let them have at it. I couldn’t keep from looking at the art itself again. I tried to imagine how I would think, if it was of Steve, if Steve had– but…I didn’t really want to think of that, right now, in the middle of what was actually Pepper’s birthday gift to him, meant to mark his life.

Though, I thought and tilted my head to see it from another angle, what a life. To make such a mark on the world that this many years after he was gone, an artist, a complete stranger, would spend however many hours of her life putting forth the effort to try and make him as large as the legacy he left behind.

Steve was right. It was pretty amazing.

~

We stayed there until it was time for the gallery to close. Though Steve had made sure he had all of the artist’s socials, and her website where he could see the picture any time he wanted, he still seemed to be soaking in the presence of the piece itself. So I felt a little like a jerk that I was getting sleepy, and I leaned into him to try and relinquish some of the energy used in standing straight to focus on appearing as awake as I could. He leaned into me in return, and I looked up at him. His expression was…peaceful. A little happy, even, and he glanced over at me and smiled a little more.

“What are you thinking?” he asked softly.

I was more curious about what was going on in his head, but I wondered if even he knew. I still didn’t know how I would really feel if someone I loved so dearly was now being immortalized by strangers in giant murals, gone long enough to have become simply part of a story long past. Steve was here, and alive, and I was grateful for every moment of that, every turn of his life that led him here, that I didn’t want to think of the other way it could have easily been.

So I snuggled in and asked, maybe a little quietly, “Is it weird if I say your boyfriend was pretty cute?”

That probably could have gone badly, I thought in a way too belated realization, but Steve snorted and clamped his hand over his mouth as he tried to get a handle on it. Eventually he breathed deep, but the smile stayed strong. “He was very handsome,” he agreed and shot me a little smirk. “He would have corrected you with that.” Steve shook his head. “God, the two of you…I don’t know if I’d’ve survived that.”

I rested my head on his shoulder and squeezed his hand. “You probably would have been fine,” I said. “I would have been hard on him too. Sharing a boyfriend doesn’t get you any free passes. Just ask Peggy.”

He snorted, then looked abashed. “Fair enough.” He looked around. “Let me just snap a quick picture of this and then we’ll head out, all right?”

“Of course,” I said and took a few steps back to make sure I was out of the way. Steve took several shots, some from different angles, and then started to slip his phone back into his pocket when he suddenly stopped, and looked at me. “Hey,” he said. “Can I take a picture of you in front of it too?”

I leaned my head to one side and looked at it again. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Past and present; I just…really like the idea.”

“Sap,” I said, but my heart melted faster than an ice cube in July and I went to stand in front of the picture. I didn’t know how to pose, but after a moment considered how well Steve had taken my joke about how attractive Bucky was and– what the hell. I turned my back to the subject, clasped my hands in front of my face, bent one leg behind me, and threw the most coquettish look over my shoulder I could muster.

Steve snorted so hard, and took so long to regain his composure, I started tilting from my poorly-thought-out balance before he finally snapped a photo he was happy with. “You’re terrible,” he said with an out-and-out grin as I rejoined him.

“You love it,” I said and stood as close as I dared, even with the event winding down.

Steve showed no concern for any of that, and wrapped his arms around me. “I really do,” he murmured and snuck a soft, but lingering kiss.

~

~extra~

The picture causes a sense of overwhelming echoes in the back of the mind. It makes him want to break something.

He doesn’t. Someone spent time and effort and this isn’t his and this isn’t him. Not really. Not anymore. He sighs and relaxes his shoulders, and checks the time absently. The security guard won’t make it over here for at least another twenty minutes, and he intends to be long gone by then.

He should be gone now, and yet he stays. James. Barnes. Bucky. They don’t feel quite right anymore, fitting better the unreal image in front of him, and yet still he keeps them, like a familiar old coat gone too tight at the shoulders but too sentimental in value to throw out. In any case he refuses to be the Asset or the Soldier, and he can’t think of another name he would choose otherwise, and so he…keeps them. Just in case they fit right again.

He can’t wait to be out of New York though. He thought it would help, maybe bring things into focus, but those old memories come with flashes of pain, like when they were forced out of him, and he has to grit his teeth against every flinch they bring. He only wanted to come and check on…Steve. Because Steve is, was, always has been, the one thing that matters, and as hard as it has been keeping him ignorant of the ‘Soldier’s’ identity, the one thing that makes it easy is imagining the look on Steve’s face if he realizes what Bucky became.

That fight. It still hurts to think of; makes him wince. It’s better now than it was at the time though. At the time he fought through what felt like double-vision, a face ghosting over the one in front of him, and then to complicate things, the Target, the Mission, was competent in ways he had never known before; every hit matched, blow for blow, the Asset’s implacable strength against the Captain’s unyielding resolve.

And then.

“I can do this all day.”

And he had cracked in two. Six little words had broken him entirely, backup had arrived, and the Asset-not-but-yes had…fled.

But not back to his masters.

The months thereafter were (are) a haze of repressed memories, repressed nightmares, repressed…everything. But without constant conditioning and punishment, he had managed to pull himself back into the shadow of a person. And now he…

He breathes slowly, and finds himself holding his forehead again. He shakes away the pain, stands tall, and looks back to the museum entrance where he had watched Steve leave. With his date. With his partner. And it…hadn’t made him violent, like he feared it might.

Steve is happy. Genuinely happy in a way that makes Bucky nearly relax with relief, and the hurt isn’t as bad as it could be. He’s taking care of and being taken care of in return, and the jealousy and anger Bucky was prepared to have to deal with is just an empty space. This is good. This is better for everyone.

He sighs and checks his watch. Time to go. He has a tip that the redhead has not managed to sniff out yet (Jesus Christ she’s like a bloodhound sometimes) and he’s left another trail for them to pick up on while he follows this because, no offense lady, but this one is a lot more personal and he is actually looking forward to tracking this particular ‘head’ down so he can kick it right in the teeth.

Steve has a life. A good life. And he has a chance to live it now. He’ll handle cleaning up the small fries, and come home at the end of the day. Bucky will continue to take care of the worst of it. As he has. As he should.

He turns, and leaves the image of James Buchanan Barnes in the past. Where he belongs.

~

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[finsterhund]

I hoped I would feel better after a bath and some chocolate but instead I'm just permanently on the verge of tears, absolutely miserable because I have tried to make a Sly so many times. So many times.

I just keep wasting fabric, I just keep laboring away sweating to death and getting heat stroke at this stupid fucking sewing machine, using my bed because there's nowhere else in the house to work, feeling guilty because my attempts are just competent enough that I feel guilt for bringing these shitty things into the world.

No amount of trying to tell myself that of course I am not as skilled as someone who has been at the craft for longer than I've been alive will actually help me feel better about not having a Sly of my own to fawn over.

I feel that everything I have ever created in my life has been horrible garbage destined to be a placeholder until someone with enough money comes along and commissions a real artist to make the real thing.

it's a waste. My time is wasted, I was a waste of a pregnancy a waste of a human being. I keep hearing in my head how no adult in my life growing up ever wanted me to amount to anything, never had any sort of belief that I'd legitimately accomplish anything. I want my toy. I want my perfect monster. I want to be able to bring things into the world that I can be proud of. No amount of someone giving a half hearted glance and saying it "looks good enough to them" will change the fact that I was abused all my life into thinking that anything less than perfection is worthless. Other people make their cute little sock kitties and their beanbag frogs and I can see warps in the seams and mismatched sizes and I love them and I cherish them and I would be so honored to have them make me a Sly but everything I touch is fucking garbage. I grew up seeing the beauty of the world and the beauty of art and it was always something I was never meant to be, never meant to touch. In the end all I have left to live for is a stupid fucking surgery to make me slightly better, slightly more human, slightly more deserving of love and admiration. I couldn't just exist and be good. I couldn't just deserve to be here just because I am. I always have to fucking prove myself and it's never enough. Would I have grown up this way if my grandparents had raised me? Would the spirit of human creativity that lives in all of us have withered away and died if I had a happy family a good childhood a healthy normal body?

My obsession is the vehicle of my own failure. I am so tired of fighting for the right to exist. I am so tired of looking at myself and everything I create and seeing only failure. Do I need my meds raised? Do I need different meds? I wish I was stupid. I wish I was a drooling nothing that had no concept of art and skill and craftsmanship.

[kaijumilf]

~~~ventpost~~~

lmao the way i am this close to blowing my brains out. not literally i dont have access to a gun. but i have access to other methodsa nd i amd so soso fucking tired of being alive in thsi moment. i am so heavily plagued with the curse of existing this way that it makes it impossible for me to make real connections with people.

i have two people in my life at this moment that make literally any of this worth doing. they both live states away. one across the country and the other is closer but then also moving east coast sometime soon. i love them dearly but i dont know if i can keep this up.

everyone else who i wind up having any sort of friendship or connection with winds up finding out just how fucked up i am medically and mentally ill and traumatized and literally on the verge of a full spiral into madness i am, and they dont mean to detach or hurt me, but they just literally cannot comprehend what the fuck my life is or has been, and then they slowly but surely phase out of my life.

its just literally impossible to make anything other than surface level friendships when literally the only thing underneath the first layer of optimism and kindness i have is just rot rot rot rot. and its not even like its the actual truama or neurodivergencies or on and off drug addictions or chemical waste damage or amount of dead people i carry with me that is making me want to kill myself, its the fact that all of that means i am so far removed from anyone else i ever meet in terms of relateability or shared life experience that i end up scaring people away by just how severely fucked up i am.

I am at peace with my life and past and who i am and  actually proud of how ive been able to keep living out of sheer strength of will despite every aspect of my life being so so fucked up, and god seemingly wanting me dead. i go through life looking for and finding the bright things and i am fully WANTING to live and thrive and im trying so fucking hard but. i dont know how much longer living is sustainable when all i can be for other people is a spectacle of pity.

i just want to be loved. and not in the way most people do where they can only love the parts i have been purposefully cultivating as kind and positive and genuinely a good presence in peoples lives since i was a child. the moment they start learning anything about my past that, they are repulsed. and not in a malicious way. no one ever hates me or dislikes me really, they just cannot handle that amount of radioactivity. and i dont blame them. im untouchable past being “inspirational” or “admirable”.

no one wants to touch this kind of decaying beast, no one wants to take home the damaged animal. im like. im a being so malformed that despite feeling sympathy or love for them, people can only love how resilient i am as a symbol of awe and admiration. its pity. its sympathy. thats all i ever am.

i dont want people to feel bad for me when i talk about my life. thats just my life! thats just how it is and it is part of me and im fucking sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. i dont want the “oh my god im so sorry you had to go through that” kind of love. i want the damage to be loved too. i want to be loved fully. i want to be seen as whole. the holes in me are part of me too. and if people will only ever able to love me “despite” those holes then i dont want to be loved.

love me wholly or not at all. id rather be openly hated than seen as someone to be handled delicately. id rather be openly hated than someone who’s past and personal issues makes other people uncomfortable because of how ugly it is. i dont want people to feel bad for me.

this is just who i am and who i will always be, and i am just fine with that! i just want to be treated normally when i talk about my life experiences and joke about them the way most people tell funny stories about high school or their childhood. i want people to laugh with me. but because literally not one area of my life, not one part of my past is not deeply disturbing in some manner, people just cannot laugh with me. they take it as a cry for help or somehow more disturbing that i laugh at the frankly ridiculous amounts of shit ive been through.

but thye dont understand that thats not me coping in an unhealthy manner. im fully aware of how fucked up my entire life has been. i acknowledge it. i accept it. i can laugh at it becasue, Yeah! its insane! truly laughably tragic my entire existence has been. but thats okay!!!!! its fine!!! like im fucked up but i can live with it without constantly being miserable about it!!!! but that doesnt mean i can just go through life without talking abiut it either because its just literally what my life has been. there would be nothing to talk about in terms of who i am if the disturbing parts were off the table.

i invite people to laugh with me! i invite people to find the humor in suffering! i invite people to see these parts of me because i cannot live a life where i am only ever presenting the pretty and relatable parts of me. there arent many of those. and its fucking tiring and frankly more damaging to me to try and pretend thats not the case. i refuse to live like that.

i cannot and will not constantly despair and about the fucked up parts of my life, but i also cannot and refuse to be dishonest about those parts existing for the sake of palatability / being relatable. that would just result in me not just being extremely emotionally repressed but also never having the ability to experience true connection with people, because they would never actually know me. i dont want to live like that.

but unfortunately, im coming to the realization that i dont think there will ever be more than those 2 people who will ever truly know me or ever WANT to. one of them being someone who shared much of my trauma, and the other who has a frankly kind of unsettling amount of at least direct parallels if not the exact same experiences. and neither of them share all of my bullshit in full! but they still love me for the things we dont share, not in spite of them. and i love them both so so so much but i cant go on feeling like either this fucking walking carcass that everyone else in my life sees me as.

i dont want to. i dont want to be this fucking alone. i dont want to be in this glass coffin display case, a thing to point at and go “wow!! its a fucking miracle that wretched thing is still alive at all!! what resilience!!! how inspirational!!!! now lets move on so we dont have to look at the poor thing, its kind of gross. but now at least i can be grateful im not them!!” its fucking torture to be real. truly agonizing.

if thats all people can ever benefit from my existing then honestly. i dont want to be resilient. i dont want to be a survivor.  i just cant fucking do this i cant. im tired of being untouchable. im tired of being radioactive. its no one elses fault, i can empathize with their discomfort. but. i just want to be newton. i want to be me, fully and honestly, but still just newt, still just a person. and still loved for all of it. i dont. i dont think thats possible though. and im so fucking lonely. lonelier than god indeed. i might just join him up there. i mean. whats the point of dragging on this existence when it obviously must be inhumane. im a dog whos been under too many tires.

i may be breathing, i may be full of love and the desire for life. but im also in so much pain all the time. not because of the broken body, but because i cannot be held by anyone without fear. without their worry of breaking me further. and that makes me wish i hadnt survived at all.

people joke about dying wrong. but i think my problem isnt that i died wrong, but that i didnt die at all. and thats a miracle, sure. but its also hideous. IM hideous. im wretched. i should be dead. i dont want to be. but i dont want to be whatever monstrous existence this could be considered.

[betzabobababi]

Broken Tom Holland x Reader

Warning: Swearing

Y/n and Tom were made for each other and have been married for nearly 10 years but what happens when they go through putrid rough patch?

Summary: Tom and y/n have the same conversation for the past days and Y/n has had enough. In the events of trying to fix things Tom asks Y/n out for coffee.

Chapter 1: Coffee Tomorrow?

 It had been three months since last seeing your husband. You understood why he was barely home anymore, but it broke you every single time that you saw he had posted something on his story. Hell, at this point you wouldn't  be surprised if he called you telling you that he would book a hotel since he was too tired from a long day on set and didn't want to have to take the 45 minute drive back to your shared apartment. You were sitting on your couch tears rolling down your face for what seemed like the thousandth time that week. The faint ringing of your phone brought you back to reality. "Speak of the devil" you thought as you wiped your tears away cleared your throat and answered the phone. "Hi my sweet y/n/n". You cringed at the mention of the nickname he gave you when you first started dating.

"Hey bubs". You streigned your voice trying to make it seem as normal as possible for Tom not to notice your cracking voice. It was no use. Tom was now used to calling you around 11 at night telling you that he wouldn't make it home since he was highly exhausted from a long day on set. He could tell when something was wrong with you but lately he had been oblivious to the situation. He didn't even try to spare at least 45 minutes of his time just to come home and be with you. 

    TOM'S POV

I didn't understand why I never wanted to go back home. I always longed for Y/N's touch. To see her sweet smile and beautiful dimples when you laughed. During shooting or after a long day at set she was all that I could think about. That's why it seemed strange to me how I always called Y/N, the love of my life to let her know that I would be booking a hotel that night. I don't know how long it had been since I last saw her. I think about two-three months? I missed her so fucking much, but I just had that gut feeling that going home wasn't the best decision. 

AUTHOR'S POV

"I just wanted to let you know that I-" 

"-won't be home today and are going to book a hotel" you cut in finishing his sentence exasperated.

"oh um shit yeah .... I'm gonna go now I still have to talk with Jon (FFH Director)

Your heart broke every time Tom spoke, it broke you to know that this was probably the only way you'll hear his voice for days to come

"yeah sure whatever". you answered hurriedly trying to ignore the small pool of tears starting to form. 

TOM'S POV

Crap! I knew that Y/N was not the sensitive type but I could hear her voice starting to crack even if it was small, I knew that she was on the verge of crying. Trying to think of something fast I absentmindedly asked "Would you like maybe want to join me for coffee tomorrow?"

Y/N'S POV

I scoffed and then coughed trying to hide the disappointed yet excited squeal that was going to explode out of my mouth anytime soon "Keep It Together Y/N!!!" I repeated to myself

AUTHOR'S POV

"Sure!" you said a little bit too eagerly. You blushed at the realization that you answered too quickly.  

"I have a short day on set tomorrow, I'll text you when I am on my way home, bye buttercup love you". - Tom

"Ok sounds good see you tomorrow goodnight love you bubs"- Y/N

Ok! i'm not so sure if that was a good amount of dialogue or interaction in general but I hope it is.

I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Not Sure how I feel about it. Any feedback is appreciated. Please, Please let me know if I should continue writing this story.

Have a good Day/Night wherever you are <3

[magicpumpkin3]

hey you i see your req are open ? if you have time , can you write about reader ( female or gender natural ) who always act cold and strong in front of other but one day the dorm leader see her crying in the sleep . they like having a nightmares about the dorm leader leaving them and sleep talk about begging them to stay ?

i am sorry if this is too long .

Note: I went through seven stages of grief while writing this. And the crazy part, I have no idea why! (Prob BC of the art/writing block).

Note№2: I sincerely apologize for the delay. But at last, most of my finals are over and I hope my will to live and create will return (and NOT at 3 AM!)

Riddle Rosehearts

He honestly didn't know you fell asleep. You were staying in his room, listening to him, rambling about his dorm members not understanding the importance of rules.

He stopped rambling as soon as you let out a small sob. Slowly turning his head towards you, to make sure he didn't mishear it, Riddle looks at you. Another sob leaves you followed shortly by a hitched inhale. He's momentarily at your side. Riddle isn't quite sure what to do. He knows for sure, he needs to wake you up. While he attempts to do so, you start crying even more, particular shacking from the amount of tears.

Riddle stills when he hears you call out for him. Never have he ever imagined you, of all people calling for him. It's unusual for you to show such deep emotions to anyone so poor thing is absolutely lost at what to do again. He had similar nightmares too (not to the point of years though), so he understands your fear.

He attempts to comfort you in your sleep, since he could wake you up. Riddle hugs you and whispers reassuring things and lot's of "I'll never leave you"s. He'll never mention it to anyone but he will talk about this with you for sure.

Leona Kingscholar

It was one of the many sleepless nights for Leona. He usually listened to your heart to fall asleep faster, feeling safe and loved. Laying on top of you, using you as a pillow, it always helped.

Leona is no stranger to nightmares, quiet the opposite actually. But never did he imagen that you will have one. In front of him. There isn't a lot of people who would understand you, lucky for you, Leona is one of a few, who understand. He trys to wake you up at first, causing you to cry even more. He's panicking, he has no idea what to do. You're always so cold, calm and quiet one of the many reasons why he likes to sleep near you.

Once Leona hears your cry for him, beginning him, to stay. He stills, not believing his ears. He had similar nightmares about you, leaving him. You were always there to comfort him when those night terrors came, so he does the same for you.

He cuddles you, pat's your head, running his fingers through your hair and says probably the sweetest things you'll ever hear from him. Leona won't mention it to anyone and won't talk with you about it. He will cuddle you more and say encouraging stuff to you in private though.

Azul Ashengrotto

He was in his office, counting contracts, before heading towards his room. He couldn't leave his angelfish waiting! You and Azul made an agreement that whenever he's being late to your 'privet' date, you'd wait for him in his room.

Standing right outside the room, Azul heard faint crying. Momentarily, he enters room, normally he knocks, even though it's his room, privacy is privacy but in this situation, he had to.

Seeing you crying in your sleep, made his personal killbill siren go insane! Usually it was the other way around, you comforting him after another bad dream. So Azul did what you usually did to him, try to wake you up and comfort you.

You let out another cry but with his name. Poor Azul was afraid you were having nightmare about him, hurting you. He was about to push away, when you weekly grabbed onto his arm and pleaded to stay with you, still asleep.

Azul stayed by your side whole night, not daring to fall asleep. Not like he could. Whispering words of love and reassurance, cuddling you, with his whole being, Azul silently cried with you, feeling your pain, like no one else. He won't say a word to anyone but he will talk about your fears and insecurities.

Kalim Al-Asim

He just returned from one of his night flys. Usually he just flys on his carpet whenever he couldn't sleep, thais was one of those nights. As soon as you entered Kalim's room and sat down on his bed, you fell asleep, due to up coming exams. Sunshine boy truly tried to fall asleep with you but he couldn't.

So imagen his suprise, when he heard your crys. You! The ice majesty you! You were like that comical 'polar opposites' couple. If anything, it was most likely him being the crying one then you!

Poor Kalim was panicking half of the time! He was about to call Jamil for help (since vice dorm leader always helped him to calm down in saddest moments) but then he heard your crys for him. You, the always cool and calm, you were calling for him???

Kalim wouldn't even try to wake you up in fear of scaring you even more, instead he'd attempt to comfort you through your sleep. Hugging, cuddling you, pressing gentle kisses here and there. He'd try to stay awake the whole night but unfortunately he falls asleep embracing you. In the morning he's very tempted to ask others for advice but Kalim understands, that it's too personal. He'll be a bit awkward about it (he doesn't know how to approach you when it comes to emotions) but he will talk with you about your nightmares.

Vil Schoenheit

Normally he was the one to fall asleep first but oh well. You did look horribly tired this whole day. Schoenheit was in a good mood, so he decided to have a beauty sleep with you (aka go to sleep at 9 pm).

He was about to fell asleep but was shacken back to the reality with your sobs. At first, he thought it was just his sleepy mind and imagination but when you started to toss around the bed and cry even more aggressively. Vil would usually just knocked some sense into you, to not ruin his beauty sleep but it's not the case.

He isn't the best guy if you need comfort. Especially if he's used to you being cold and calm on the outside (like him). So Vil is really confused on what to do. Logically he'd try to wake you up first and if that fails, he'd still be lost for a good fee seconds. Don't be mad at him, please, he trys his best. Vil would try to hug you and keep you in place, so you wouldn't accidentally hurt yourself, try to calm you, by saying stuff like 'it's okay', 'let it out' and 'sh…I'm here for you'.

When he first heard you cry for him, Vil like Azul thought, he was the cause of your tears. He was about to start to think some really depressing things but then you begged for him to stay. It's like something snapped in him. Vil never thought that you'd be that attached to him. He'd be more 'aggresive' in his calming attempts. More 'I love you's and 'I won't ever leave you's, tightening his embrace and all. He wouldn't talk to anyone about it and he would be hesitant to talk to you about it too. Since he's also an 'ice queen' he tried to think how'd that go through his point of view. But in the end you'd still discussed it.

Idia Shroud

You both were chillaxing in his room. Idia was having one of those long night gaming marathon/sessions and you accidentally fell asleep on his bed. Idia doesn't mind though, he understands that you're probably tired and his bed is comfy!

Before long, he was at max level fighting with the boss and he was about to disintegrate that worthless being- Wait, did he hear it correct? Pushing pause, Idia pushed his headphones a bit. Yep, that was someone crying. Hold on... IT'S JUST YOU AND HIM HERE!!! Remember, I told you about killbill siren in Azul's head? Now THIS is a killbill siren. Idia is panicking his shit out and has no actual idea what to do! His anxiety level has never been so high.

Usually he was the one having nightmares (if you were lucky to catch him asleep) in your couple, so if something you or Ortho were the one to comfort him. Poor Idia, he was on the verge of tears from the panic. He was about to call Ortho for help when he heard your cry for him, his name being chocked out from your trembling body. Hesitant, he would try to wake you up (And miserably failed). Idia will mostly say reassuring words and won't do much physical contact since he's afraid of scaring you even more. He really is worried, don't get me wrong! After that, he would only ask Ortho for the advice (or internet in anon mode). He doesn't want to mess up things even more so he'll be shy asking you about it. You and him will still talk at some point though.

Malleus Draconia

Fae's sleeping schedule is a... wierd thing but it is what it is. Usually Malleus just watches you sleep instead of sleeping himself. So here you were in bed next to him, sleeping peacefully, while Draconia watched you like a hawk.

So when your face started to show the slightest hints of discomfort, he noticed it. And from that moment on, his 'protecting' instincts were acting up. He didn't risk waking you up right away but he git closer to your sleeping form non-theless. He was monitoring everything, starting with what expression does your face makes and ending with your heart beat.

When you let out your first shaky sob, Malleus felt like there's a crack in the floor and it's getting bigger. He had no idea what to do. While he was spacing out and silently panicking, you started to cry even harder. Poor baby, was scared to do anything! He tried to wake you up but you just started crying even harder! Malleus got a heart attack when you cried his name out. Like Azul he thought, he was the reason of your nightmare. The only thought about it made him go to the verge of tears. Malleus was brought back to the reality by you, pleading for him to stay. Mal mal would hug you, whisper promises of being with you forever and try to slowly rock you like a baby to ease your bad dream. He won't mention it to anyone and won't talk with about it. But if it happens again, he'll decently confront you about your nightmares.

[housamo-side-blog-2]

Sick Day

{Harumo’s room}

The Sun rises to the world of Tokyo,dark areas illuminated, the greens and living beings, everyone in the world of the unknown,And speaking of unknown, in one of the dorms rooms of Shinjuku Academy lies a young chubby boy with hundreds of simps [literally] lay dormant in his room resting from all the fighting and all nighters they do because everyday is a new huge event for him, The curtains sway lightly as the wind  passes through,the room begins to bring color as the rising run brings joy to some individuals, There the chubby hero name Harumo covered in blankets still asleep even though he was about to be late for his classes starting right........now..

Lil Salomon: Wakey-wakey master its time to get up, You’re going to be late for school again.....Master?

Your forevor close buddy familiar attempts to wake you up,however you appear  unresponsive to his pleas. But something about your silence begins to worry him.

Lil Salomon: Master!,Master!,Wake up!

Attempting to wake you up again in a panic state,circling around your blankets shaking any area to atleast make you twitch,however it doesn’t work.. This only made your butler more worried,because of the fact he can’t be seen by other people and only you can see him, he cannot go to your classmates for aid as well as his father Mr Mononobe whom can see Salomon if he has the ring,that is now in your right ring finger.

[KNOCKING OF A DOOR]

Lil Salomon:  Who could that be?!

Shiro: Harumo?,are you up!, You’re gonna be late again for class.

Lil Salomon: What Luck!... Master!, you’re friends are here to see you,Master please wake up.

He tries to wake you up again,

Lil Salomon: Ma-Master?, {Touches forehead}...ow! Oh my goodness!, Master you’re burning up! 

Harumo.....*soft groan*....

{Thud}

Ryota: Did you guys hear that?

Shiro: Yes, i did,Harumo what was that noise?

Kengo:Step aside you two.

Ryota: Kengo?, what are you doing?

Kengo: Im gonna punch that cute ass of his if he doesn’t wake up.

Shiro:Absolutely not Kengo!, You’re going to break school property!.

Lil Salomon: How am i going to tell them,,,Uhmm......Oooohhhhhh thats it!HOLD ON MASTER!

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Ryota: Wahhh!,,what the?,, 

A  piece of paper mysteriously appeared on Ryota’s shoe..

 Ryota: HELP?!

Shiro: What the?...HARUMO!,,{KNOCKING}

Shiro: Kengo break the door!

Kengo: RARRRGGHHH!

With no hesitation Kengo easily breaks the door down with his mighty kick as strong as horse’s gallop.A loud bang with a surprise for the trio waiting for them as they found themselves shocked to enter your room with you on the floor,

Ryota: Harumo!, 

Kengo:Partner what happen?!

Shiro touches your forehead.

Shiro:{Gasp} Harumo,you’re burning up! 

Ryota: Shiro, we have to bring them to the clinic 

Shiro: Kengo grab Harumo and bring them to Shennong’s clinic,Hurry!

Kengo: Right! Hold on partner! will get you to Shennong! so hang in there!

Kengo lifts you up with both hands carrying you as Kengo looks at you with a serious yet scared face followed by Shiro,whom is both running with him as he checks on your body along with Ryota, who is seen almost on the verge of tears as he looks upon his friend while hearing the soft groans as a slight displacement is enough to hurt them...

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                                                                                                                                                          HARUMO SICK DAY

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{Kabukicho} 

In a old abandoned building in Kabukicho, a lone transient is seen sleeping on the couch, with his usual expression, though in some moments it changes to a happy one, where he could be seen smiling. i wonder what they’re dreaming about?

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{Shino”s Dream} 

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In a calm peaceful forest in Shino”s homeworld, Lays a medium sized hut with a  large window next to the entrance with a small workshop underneath it. There the chimney is seen being lit as puffs of smoke exits from it,indicating that someone is cooking...Waiking slowly to the door the gray fured therian sees.. 

Shino: Beloved,,, i have returned... 

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Harumo: Hello Shino, Welcome back! 

Shino: Yes, my dear. that smells nice,

Harumo: Well, thats because im cooking your favorite today, 

Shino:  i see, be careful with cutting with a knife dear. 

Harumo: Don’t worry, dear, im always careful. 

Shino: i should aid you in cutting the meat.

Harumo: All right, you big fluffy worry wart, 

Shino: Tha-,,i already told you, to please stop calling me that!. 

Harumo: But its cute, and you really are fluffy and big. 

Shino:{Blushes}

Harumo: Im going to pick some vegtables from the back. 

Shino: Ok dear..

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*COUGHING* 

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Shino: Harumo?.... 

His ears twitch as he went to see his dear coughing and it appears They’re trying to cover it. 

Shino: Harumo...are you ill?..

Harumo:*coughing small amounts of blood*...

Shino:.you’re not well!, you medical assistance! 

Harumo:*coughing....

Shino steps in to catch you from falling as your knees begin to gave out,,as soon as he lifts you up in his arms like a knight carrying they’re princess,

But as soon,as Shino turns back...

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Shino: {Gasp}..... NO!!!....

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{PIERCING SOUND}

An unexpected arrow,was fired as Shino’s back....

Shino: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Hunter:i’’ve found him!....

Other Hunter:There he is!,, Fire! 

Shino: Harumo!...Hold on!

Harumo:Ahhh!,,

Shino: I won’t let them harm you my beloved! 

Hunter: Fire at him! 

{Piercing sound} 

Shino: Thaaaa! 

Even with arrows sticking out of his back, Shino takes a stance in fury and readys his sword,with his paw clutched,Shino could never forgive the ones that try to harm his dearly beloved.

Other Hunter: He’s gettin ready to attack,,defend yourself! 

Shino: I WILL TEARS OFF YOUR HEADS! ..

Harumo:*Coughing*

Hunter:His coming! 

Running furiously,sword in hand and paw ready to grab the head,  Shino,,full on runs towards the two hunters in rabid speeds even though he was hit with two arrows on his back,but it seems to have no effect on him as he was about near the hunter who shot the first arrow...

Shino: YOUR HEAD!

Hunter: aHHHH!

Harumo: SHINOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Shino: Huh,,,Harumo....

Just moments away from pulling his neck, Shino heard the cries of his beloved and stopped him from taking his life,,,however hunters,,,give no mercy to their prey.....

Shino: You dispicable!

Harumo:...*coughing

With his sharp animal senses, and even more high alert, Shino spots the hunter about to stab him,. 

Harumo: NOOOOOOOOO!!!!! 

Shino:I DON’T THINK SO!

Other hunter: No! {Fires an arrow}

 Shino dodges the incoming arrow,with the unconcious hunter out of commisioned,the now calm Shino hurrys back and sweeps up and hunt continues on..

Harumo:*coughing*....

Shino: Just hold on a little longer, and we’ll be there. 

Harumo: T-thank you Shino,,,,for sparing his life..

Shino:.....

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Shino: Look, we’re nearly out,,just hold on a--

{Pierce}  

Harumo: Ahhh!!! 

Shino: Harumoooo!!!!

While near the exit of the forest,a lone hunter is seen in a firing postion,as though they have been waiting for a while and shotted an arrow hitting Harumo in they’re right side....

Shino: Harumo....Harumo!!...YOU!!!!!

As the blood of his beloved’s body spreads, 

Harumo: Ahhhhhh!!!,,,,,*Coughs blood. 

Shino tries to take down the lone hunter,,but alas,,,the hunter had shot an arrow in Shino’s chest piercing his heart...as they fall,,and slowly close they’re eyes,,,The image of his beloved covered in blood on the ground as Shino can only see the life of his beloved eye’s slowly fade away....

{WAKES UP} 

Shino: Thaaa!!!----*gasping* *sweating*....

Shino: *Gasping* I..its...its just a dream...*gasping*  

Shino:My lord.....

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{Clinic} 

Rushed to the medical clinic of Shinjuku Academy The Summoners watch in worried as they see in bed while Shennong examines your body and coming up with a diagnostic. 

Shiro: How is Harumo? Shennong..

Shennong:Its all right now,,,Harumo just got a really high fever. 

Shiro: {Gasp}

Ryota: Harumo....

Shennong: I’d say 2 days of bed rest,and Harumo will be better.,   

Shiro: Understood Shennong.  

Harumo: *soft groan* ahh...

Kengo:  partner...just relax now..

Shennong: I called Mr Mononobe, to inform him about Harumo, he should arriving soon ..oh......speak of the devil. 

{Door opens}

Mr Mononobe: Oh, so this is were you three were.  

Mr Mononobe: How’s Harumo? 

Shennong: Harumo is in bed, They just got a high fever, but he’l be fine.They just need a lot of rest.

Mr Mononobe: I see, Thank you for your work Shennong,and to you to also Shiro,Kengo and Ryota, 

Shiro: We’re just glad Harumo is going to be okay. 

Mr Mononobe: I’ll inform the other teachers about Harumo and tell them why you three are late.. 

Shiro: Understood,Thank you Mr Mononobe..

Mr Mononobe: No problem, Now you three better go to class all right. 

Kengo: Im staying to take care of Harumo!

Mr Mononobe: Now,now Takabushi, i understand that you’re worried, but Shennong can keep an eye on Harumo,, 

Shiro: Kengo we can’t do that!, 

Ryota: Im worried also for Harumo,and i want to take care of them... 

Shiro: Kengo,Ryota lets go now!

Kengo:rgghhhh!,, fine,,.....I’’ll be back for you partner!.

Ryota: Harumo..i promise im going to take care of you! 

Shennong: See you all as well, I’ll  watch over Harumo.

Shiro: Thank you Shennong. 

Shiro: ....I’ll be back to take care of you!

Kengo: Hey you’re stealing my lines!

Mr Mononobe:all right now, run along kids. 

{Door close} 

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 {Nakano Shopping Mall} 

In the mall.... 

Customer: Can i have 10 rainbow buns please! 

Customer: I’ll take 14 rainbow buns to go and can i have a soda! 

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Here in the Nakano Shopping Mall is where a very popular bun is being sold,not only for its deliciousness,but for the wide varieties of colors that represent that each a different kind of flavor, and as you can tell, from its name,the buns come into all different colors hence earning its name Rainbow Buns. sold by the shop being managed by the father of a young pink-haired chubby boy.

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Ebisu: Coming up 10 buns of Special Rainbow buns!

Employee: Hey Ebsu, where’s num#4′s order?! 

Ebisu: Oh, Coming!,

Normally its not as busy in the shop, but strangely,people have been coming in to taste and witness the popular Rainbow Buns thats been getting famous in Nakano..And hopefully Ebisu doesn’t get tired....

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2 hours later.... 

All orders that have been piling up, has now begin to disappear one by one as the customers each take of what they have ordered, feeling thirsty and tired,Ebisu goes to the terrace of the mall where it faces the calm sea...

Ebisu: Phew.......{sips tea}

Resting calmy  on a bench, he stares blankly at the tranquil sea, as it reflects the rays of the sun,and the many fishing boats moving rapidly to their fishing spots. 

Ebisu: Its so beautiful....*sigh*

Sitting on the bench,reminded him of the person who sat next to him, in comfort, 

Ebisu:......

{Memory}

Harumo: Can i sit here? 

Ebisu: .....

{End of Memory} 

He stares at his tea while remembering that said person.

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Ebisu: I wonder how Harumo is doing?...Hmm..

{Remembers Harumo sweet moments}

{Heartbeat} 

Ebisu: w..Did, my heart,,,just beat skipped a beat?.. and why is it when im remembering Harumo? 

Ebisu:.....w-w-.why do i want to see Harumo again?!, do i like them?Well offcourse i like them!, but whats this feeling that,,,that my heart is about to explode!.....Ahhhh!,..

 He scratch his head in confusion.

.Ebisu: Thaaaa,,,,C’mon Ebisu,,Do you really like Harumo as a friend or as a lover!

Employee: Hey Ebisu!,Breaks over! lets get back to work! 

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Ebisu:Thaaaa!!!,,,,, Oh,,,sorry sir!,,, 

 Employee: Get a move on, those rainbow buns aren’t gonna cook themselves!

.Ebisu: We actually bake them sir.

.Employee: Oh.,,,also, what were you shouting back there?,  

.Ebisu: What?, you heard?,, its,,,nothing,, nothing sir,, 

Employee: ......Then i why were you shouting lover then?!

Ebisu: You heard that?!,, ohhhhhh,,,,

Ebisu covers his face out of embarassment as you can tell from the tomato colored face he’s doing,, the employee, looks at him sharply into his eyes as if he wanted to tell something to him,, 

Employee: Is it about that Harumo guy you mentioned, the one that you’re inlove with?!

Ebisu: What?!,no!,,i just,,,its just that,,,

Employee: Shhhhhh,,,don’t say anymore, 

Ebisu: But...

Employee: A THAT THAT THAT THAT,,no more..

Ebisu: *Sigh*  its just that, i just,,can’t seem to stop thinking about them, it confuses me, and i don’t know if i really love them, 

Employee: You can tell them about it later after work,C’mon the customers are probably waiting.

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 {Shinjuku Cafeteria}

Lunch time,at Shinjuku Academy, Ryota is at the front of line,  

Ryota: Hey Choji!, whats special for today?.

Choji: Hello Ryota,Our main menu for today is our special Chicken Karaage and it comes with a sauce of different flavors,you could also pick which flavor of the Karaage,we have spicy,sour,sweet,savory,  flavors so take your pick. and we also have chicken soup and chicken curry...

Ryota: Karaage?!,,,,Can i have 5 sweet karaage!, 

Kengo: Hey its chicken on a menu!, I’ll take 10 of....uhh....the savory ones!

Choji and Ryota: T-t-TEN?! 

Ryota: Are you sure you can eat all of it?! 

Kengo: Hah!, i need a lot of protein for my body you know,also im going to bring these to Harumo,, i bet they’re hungry.

Choji: Come to think of it,I don’t see Harumo with you, you guys are always with them.

Ryota: Harumo is sick,,He’s got a high fever so they can’t come..

Choji: Oh no!, hope they’re feeling okay...

Choji: Its a good thing we have chicken soup on the menu,, that will help in they’re recovery,I’ll save a batch for him and you can feed it to them...

Ryota: Thanks Choji,

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Shiro: You better eat all of it Kengo! 

Kengo: Whaddya think im doing, im not going to waste chicken, and also Choji will go berserk on me. .

Moritaka: We warriors need a lot of protein to sustain our bodies,so im sure Kengo will eat everything on his plate..

Toji: Still, it will be better if you added some vegtables to your diet Takabushi. 

Kengo: Why is everyone questioning my food choices!

Ryota: Hey,how about we visit Harumo,to see if they are awake. 

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Chernobog: Is something a matter with my heroic one?

Ryota: Ahhh!, Oh,,its just you Chernobog,, don’t scare me like that!. 

Chernoog: I did not mean to frighten, you Ryota, i just heard you mention about the heroic one,, but i don’t see them.. 

Shiro: Harumo came down with a high fever

Moritaka: Might i ask Chernobog, Where is Zao?, you’re always accompanied by him.. 

Chernobog:  Zao, sneaked out of class and went mountain hiking.

Kengo: Hahaha!,Nice job Zao!

Shiro: [Pinches Kengo’s ear} 

Kengo: Ow,ow, what the heck nerd!

Ryota: How you join us in visiting them, im sure they’ll be so surprised.

Chernoog: I do wish check  Harumo’s  wellbeing...

 .Toji: I’ll also wish to pay them a visit, just to ensure they’re being taken care of, 

.Moritaka: Me too,, Having a fever is very common for me, so i want to look out for them.. 

.Ryota: Shiro,,can we??Please???

..

Shiro: *Sigh* fine, I’ll go ask Mr Mononobe if we’re allowed..

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After a moment,Shiro comes back with news. 

Kengo: So, how it go? Can we see them.?

Shiro: Yep,,Mr Mononobe gave us the approval.

Kengo: Well what are we standing around for, Lets go! 

Moritaka: Lets go!

Chernobog: Wait for me Heroic one.

Ryota: Wait! im going to fetch Harumo some lunch,im sure they haven’t eaten!

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{Clinic} 

After some time, you have awoken from your pained state of slumber and scan your entire surroundings,

Harumo:W-where am i?,,,,is this Shennong”s clinic...?

Lil Salomon: Master!, {hugs them} 

Harumo: Whoah hey, Lil Salomon, what happened just now? 

Lil Salomon: You had a high fever Master,and then quickly rushed here by your friends.

Harumo: Really?!,,

Lil Salomon: Oh!,i was so worried about you, you have no idea how paniced i was when you rolled down on the floor!

Harumo: W-well, sorry to worry you ..ow!. 

Lil Salomon: Master? 

Harumo: My throat..feels like its being pierced.

{Door Opens} 

Kengo:  partner!,

Shiro: How many times do i have to tell you,to not run in the halls!

Kengo: Can it Class rep!, I have to be the first one my partner has to see!

Shiro:  Oh Thank goodness you’re awake Harumo,,.. 

Harumo: How long was i out?..

.Shiro: You were out about 2 hours now.

.

Moritaka: Harumo, my friend!, 

Harumo: Well theres a fluffy cute face..

Moritaka: I--Well,,thank you for the compliement!

As soon as Toji enters,he immediately examines your forehead, to check your temperature..

Toji: huh...you’re burning up.

Chernobog: My Heroic one,

Harumo: Never seen you wore the uniform before...

Chernobog: Yes, it came to me just now,,its a miracle they found a size for me.

Shiro: Moritaka, is the towel cold? 

Chernobog: What is the purpose of this towel on you? 

Chernobog points at your towel that Moritaka checks if its cold. 

Moritaka: This is a towel that they use to cool down Harumo, we drenched it in cold water and put it on their forehead..Oh no! 

Shiro: What is it Moritaka? 

Moritaka: The water is warm now. 

Chernobog: Let me..

Chernobog summons a small cloud over the bowl of water and rained ice from it. 

Moritaka: That was amazing Chernobog, how did you do that.?

Ryota: You’re a wizard Chernobog.!

Chernobog: it is the power granted to me of being the dark lord of Bald Mountain. 

Moritaka dips the towel into the now cold water that is giving off a cold air, 

Moritaka: Its so cold!, that my hands are going to freeze, There we go! 

Harumo: Shhhhh,,,ahhhh,,,,

Chernobog: Is it too cold Harumo? 

Harumo: No,,,Its just right...

Ryota: Okay, I know you haven’t eaten in a while, so,, i packed you some delicious snacks and also Choji ask me to feed you some chicken soup.. 

Ryota places a handful of snacks comprise of chips, fruit juices and also Karaage that Choji saved for you.

Shiro:Good thinking Choji,it will surely help Harumo

Harumo: ....ow....uhm,,can you feed it to me?

Ryota: W-what?,,o-okay say ahhhhh....

Ryota takes a spoon of chicken soup ..

Harumo:Ahhhhhh,,,  Mmmmmm,,,This is delicious.. 

Chernobog: Is this a tradition when one is ill? 

Harumo: Do you want to feed me too Chernobog? 

Chernobog: I-....Well...if it aids in your recovery. then  i shall..

Ryota hands Chernobog the spoon, and gently takes a spoon of chicken soup,being cautious as to not break or drop it,by his massive fingers.

Chernobog: Say ahhhhh...

{Mmmmmm,,,,,*Gulp*} 

Chernobog: Is it to your liking? 

Harumo: It was delicious Thank you Chernobog!

A smile finally appears to your face as,, you have seen all the people that will take care of you...

Chernobog: My pleasure.. .

Harumo: ahh.....my...throat .

You hold your throat as you try to speak,,in every second you try to speak your throat feels like a burning furnace inside you.. 

Ryota: Here Harumo,,,some orange juice,,

Ryota hands you a can of  orange juice with a straw in it...and slowly sip.

You can still feel a slight sharp pierceing feeling,when you sip the orange juice,, as your tonsils are inflammed.. 

Harumo: Mmmm,,mmm,,, 

You start to feel drowsy and fatigued as you slowly lean on your backside.

Your friends can only watch you wreath in pain and sweat like you’re running a marathon, as they have seen you triump in many hard battles, and always went ahead with a fierce smile on your face, but now,,that smile is nay in the present ,for as they see infront of them is a highschool student in pain,,, 

As Ryota wipes away your sweat, he worrys more,as he looks more closely to your face, 

.

Ryota: Harumo..whats wrong?!

Moritaka: Ryota move!

.

.

Harumo:Blaaaagghhhh!!

Chernobog:Harumo! 

Shiro: Moritaka,,could you go flush Harumo’s vomit away.

Moritaka: Oof!, that is most unpleasant.

 Toji: You were:somewhat aware of that happening..

Moritaka: To tell you the truth, I’ve experienced having fevers from past years during those times and i have learned the symptoms.

Harumo: *groans*  

Shiro: Oh Harumo...

 Kengo: Partner...

{Door Opens} 

..

.

Shennong: Whoah!,,,well this is,,uhm,,  

.Shiro: Shennong, Harumo just vommited just now, what does that mean? 

Shennong: Lets see....

Taking into account that Shennong was the military medic of the Warmongers,and you could expect that whenever training goes into the walls of Penitentia Academy, you would expect the training regime to be brutalizing.

 To the point where some trainess would even vomit out of exhaustion or go cranky, or even losing their lives to its merciful dictatorship, whereas  Shennong have seen the dark side of being a medic and as he calmly examines  

The body of the that person, he as already a prognosis. 

Shennong: Well, They’re temperature hasn’t changed, Lets just give them some rest, I’’ll have one of you take Harumo in a wheel chair, so you can get them back to their dorm,after school,because i won’t be present by that time.   

. Shiro: Understood Shennong. 

Kengo: Yeah, but whose gonna take them? 

Shiro: Well off course it should be me, 

Kengo: Huh!, who made you chief here? im going to do it. 

Ryota: Shouldn’t it be me, since im the closest to his dorm.

Moritaka: Comrades, cease yourselves, im much more qualified to do it!

Toji: I’ll have to intefere with that bold proclamation of yours Inuzuka. I swore to protect Harumo, so I’ll be escorting them, 

Ryota: No ME! 

Shiro and Kengo: ME! 

Bickering over to whom shall be entrusted to carry out the responsibility of escorting them back to their dorm, one individual angrily intervenes. 

.

Chernobog: RRRR...ENOUGH!

 Everyone:.....

Harumo: {Shivering} 

Chernobog: Your bickering has cause Harumo discomfort, I’ll be the one escorting them back to their dorm room, Do i make myself clear! 

Summoners: ........Okay....

Shennong: I’’ll also have to mention that someone has to stay with them, incase they feel any pain or to replace their towel with cold water. 

The room falls into an awkward silence,An uneasy stare off, and then.

.

.

.

Shiro and Kengo: I’ll be staying with them! No me! 

Ryota: NO ME! 

Moritaka and Toji: ME! 

Chernobog: RRRRRRRR.....

 Harumo: *groan*,,,guys,,,,*coughing*

As you attempt to breath out a word, you continue to cough aggresively.

Harumo: .....Guys....please.. don’t fight!.....

You released those words just before falling sleep, 

.

.Shennong: Thats it!, im going to the one assigning,,,, Chernobog, you’d be the one to escort them back to their dorm and gonna spend the night with them..Do i make myself clear!      

Summoners:..Yes.. 

Shennong: Good, use that whellchair there to transport them after school,got it? 

Chernobog: Yes, i understand.

Shennong: Check if his towel is cold before  going to bed,and you will the one feeding them, i highly recommend feeding them soup, 

Shennong:That way its digestable,and if they can’t taste it,do not worry,  its normal when you have fever and after meals, have them swallow this pills,..Understand Chernobog? 

Chernobog: i understand it all. 

 Shennong: Thats good to hear, now run along kids, lunch time is over by this hour correct? 

 Shiro: Oh crap!, We have to hurry you lot! See you later Harumo.. 

After every visitor have said they’re goodbyes to them, The afternoon classes can finally resume.. 

Chernobog:.....

.

.

.

.

[Dorm} 

Meanwhile, As the afternoon classes had begun, a lone figure slowly waiks in a  familiar room, only to discover a scene that sends chills down their spine. 

.

.

Horkeu Kamui: Huh?,,,What the?!

Horkeu Kamui: What on earth happened here?

The worried shocked faced transient, looks inside to find it to be a total mess,as scattered pieces of wood are scattered throughout the floor,the airconditioner still open,and a stack of books,journals and other reading material spread around their study desk. 

its as if someone had broken inside, maybe someone very strong broke in and did someting to that person,  

.

Horkeu Kamui: MY HERO!?.

.

The screams of his worry echoes throught out the halls of the dormitory, as if a vengeful ghost is screamed in fury.. But, he does not know that his beloved hero is safely in the clinic, resting,.. 

 .But to him, he interpreted it as much more sinister, for he’d had witness the deaths of his students over and over at the hands of a certain dark lord..  

.Who will tell him that his beloved hero is just resting, and not in danger, as per everyday they are always in constant danger.  

..

.

.

While,back in Nakano. 

After work....

A pink-haired chubby boy , is seen mopping away the grime and dirty water off the floor as the massive crowd did a lot of running for Ebisu. 

But he still is conflicted about a certain issue that boggles his mind.

.

Ebisu:....

.

.After the treasure hunt, A part of Ebisu was confronted and it did him wonders after, for as they have said they’re goodbyes after departing from each other...

Ebisu had a strange feeling, to him atleast,but for everyone to witness, its perfectly obvious that Ebisu has a thing or somehow special connection with a certain someone. 

 But for Ebisu, he is somehow confuse about what to feel about them, for he has been debating whether they like Harumo as a friend, or Love Harumo as a lover. 

For as he continues to mop away, He’s expression changes to a slightly annoyed Ebisu, as he is infact nervous to tell them, As he continues on, 

  Ebisu: ahhhhhhh!!....

Ebisu: C’mon Ebisu!,

He holds  two pudgy cheeks,

Ebisu: *Inhale* ....*exhale*.....Okay...

Ebisu: Do you like Harumo?, Ebisu?,

Ebisu: I do like them,,Do i love them? 

Ebisu: Well.....

  .

.

Employee: Listen to your feelings for once Ebisu...

Ebisu: Whaa!....Oh..sir..I didn’t know you were there..

Employee: The part about questioning yourself is only i heard..but.you should ask  those questions to the person. not yourself,.. 

Emplyee: How could will you get the answer that you want,when you already have a sure way to answer it..

The 6ft tall employee stands infront of Ebisu as if he was a fatherly figure just now. for as they and Ebisu are both Papa and Son, 

Ebisu: Sir...

Employee: Works over, so call me Papa,..Now, you’ve been acting differently ever since you returned from your voyage, Its as if you have close your scars now. 

Ebisu: Thats because during that long journey i  have learned to not feel about what people expect of me, and i have finally got my answer..But...mmm

Papa: But?...

Ebisu: But i don’t know, i...can’t make out what this feelings thats stirring up in my head...

Ebisu: I’ve already know how to not feel about people’s expectations, but why do i expect them to feel the same way that i do feel for them..

As continues to release his frustations, the tall dad figure kneels down to meet his eye level, and looks directly into to his eyes as if he wants to convey something to him.

 Papa: Ebisu,let me ask you one question...

Ebisu:....

Papa: Does Harumo expect something from you?

He puts his hands on both of Ebisu’s shoulders.. 

Ebisu:No..

 Papa: Do you expect them to feel the same way you are feeling? 

 Ebisu:No...

Papa:Then you have nothing to worry about.

Ebisu: Huh?.

Papa: Did i ever told you,that i used to have massive love interest to one person when i was your age?

Ebisu: You did?!..and what happened? 

Papa: Well, i was so confused about what my feelings for them mean to me, i couldn’t even sleep,thinking about ,,, what will they say to me?... 

Papa: I can’t stop thinking...but in the end, i mustered up all of my courage to tell them about what i feel about them,,..

 Ebisu: And?...what did they say?..

Papa, takes a moment to answer as Ebisu waits for his response.

.

.

Papa: They said: “i love you too, but. I don’t want it to be romantic” 

Ebisu: Did you get rejected?!...

Papa: It didn’t feel as a rejection, its more like i finally got my answer..

and ever since that day.. i was satisfied with their answer..

Papa: For as i didn’t expect them to either to be my lover nor i want them to be mine. but,, the thought of them answering ,,, was enough for me...and to this day..that friend of mine,are still friends..             

.Papa: Our relationship to each other hasn’t changed back to my childhood days. and im glad it didn’t...Hahaha. 

.Papa: So, now that you heard my story, what are you going to do?...Uh..Ebisu? 

.

Ebisu: Im....IM GOING TO CONFESS TO THEM!...

Papa: Whoah easy there, you gonna burn down the kitchen if you keep this up! 

Ebisu: Thank you Papa, i know what i must do!, Thank you very much!..

Papa: Your welcome.,,oh and as an added bonus, give them this here rainbow buns that i saved, for you know..when...

 Ebjisu: Wait..don’t tell you knew this was gonna happen, did you?.

 Papa: Well,. it was 50/50,but im glad you know what you need to do now..

Ebisu: Yes,,Thank you a bunch papa. i have hurry now, before the train leaves.! 

Papa: Hehehe, Go, you better reel in a good one!.

Ebisu: Yes!..    

Tightly grasping a medium box in his hand,The confident pink haired boy sprints in a hurry to catch up to the train station and soon follows his destination...Shinjuku...

Ebisu: Harumo,,if you’re gonna reject me!,its fine by me,,but i want to know your answer, and to figure that out ,i have to tell you the truth..of what i feel about you!.     

.

.

.

.

{Shinjuku Dormitory} 

After school..in the mid afternoon.

 Chernobog prepares your wheel chair as you try to get out of bed, but sadly, the strength that pull everyday is no longer present ,as every step feels as if you’re dragging 10 pounds of weight, and every step you take,

  leaves you out of breath as you lean onto Chernobog for support, 

.Harumo:{breathing softly} 

 Chernobog:Harumo, we’ll be going back to your room now, so you can rest easy now, 

 Harumo:....W-we?...

Chernobog: Yes...

Chernobog:Per instruction, is to accompany you and that is to sleep beside you.

Harumo: ...Oh..cool...Nurse Chernobog..

Chernobog: Lets us make haste now.. Onward! 

.

.And as the drama begins, the two of you slowly make your towards the dormitory so that you may sleep.

.

.

On your way towards the exit of the school, you encounter a familiar student leaning on the side of the door frame, its as if that said person is waiting for someone in particular. 

.

 .

.

 Harumo: Kengo?..

Kengo: Hey partner, I’ve been ..waiting for you..

Harumo: For me?..

Kengo: Yeah...i just...i just want to guard you,make sure you both are safe, An enemy could take advantage of your fever, so i want to make sure.

Chernobog: I am mostly grateful for your intent of protecting Harumo, 

Harumo: Okay,...Lets go...

The second strongest member of the Summoners and The Dark Lord of Bald Mountain, had became your escort, its as if two alphas are protecting their King. as they keep an eye out for anyone that will attack out of the blue..

.

..

.

After reaching the entrance of the dormitory,  

.

.

Horkeu Kamui: Dark lord Chernobog!, 

Chernobog: ....

Kengo: Hey, what are you doing here Horkeu Kamui?! 

Horkeu Kamui: Harumo!, what did you do to my hero?! 

Chernobog: Calm yourself Horkeu, you misunderstand the situation.

Harumo: HorkeuKamui, calm down for a sec...

Kengo:Hey, Quit you two!, nows not the time ! 

Kengo steps in-between the two people who have a sharp gaze at each other as they look deep into each others eyes

 As if they are about to pounce at each other.. Their gaze are almost sharp daggers that pierce into each other’s soul. as Kengo becomes the peacekeeper.  

.

.

Harumo:ENOUGH YOU TWO! {Coughing} 

As you try to scream at the top of your lungs,your voice becomes hoarse as your tonsils are inflammed,

 After that, you continue to cough aggresively as you hold your neck feeling the sharp pain of your tonsils, your sweating more and more as the two feuding have snapped to their senses. And return to your eyes as you are weaken. 

.

Kengo: Partner, don’t taik, Thats you two idiots, Harumo is screaming because of you’se two keep on bickering, 

Chernobog: Harumo im sorry, i...

Horkeu Kamui: My hero, i did not intent to cause you great harm, Im sorry..

.

.

Ebisu: Harumo...?

Trio: Huh?..

A mention of your name, the three escorts quickly turn their sights at a lone chuby figure behind you.   

.

Harumo: That voice...

Ebisu slowly waiks towards to you shyly. 

Horkeu Kamui: Who are you? 

Chernobog: What business do you have with Harumo? 

Harumo: Ebisu!

.

.

Ebisu: I’ve finally found you!

.

.

.

.

.

AND THATS IT FOR PART 1 OF SICK DAY,THOGUH I WANTED TO MAKE THIS A  IN ONE POST BUT, I FELT THAT I SHOULD TURN IT INTO PARTS AND NOT MAKE IT INTO A WHOLE, HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THE STORY AND COMMENT ON WHAT YOU ALL THINK OF IT OR SEND AN ASK, EITHER WAY, AND THATS IT FOR PART 1 OF HARUMO GETTING SICK AND IT WAS HARD TO GAUGE EVERYONE’S REACTIONS TO HARUMO GETTING SICK AND HOW THEY WILL DO OR EVEN TAKE CARE OF HARUMO, OKAY, THATS ALL FOR TODAY,      THANK YOU ALL VERY MUCH. 

[starbuckie]

𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐰

challenge: 200 followers challenge by @angrybirdcr

prompt: “there may have been a slight misunderstanding, but nothing we can’t fix.” and locked in the trunk of a car

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 5,504 words

warnings: post-endgame, bucky’s kinda a dick, enemies to friends(?), swearing, angst, mentions of violence, talk about sexual assault, guns, bickering, jealousy

summary: bucky had been adjusting to the new familiarity of having a stable routine, right until she walked in.

a/n: I DON’T NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO MARVEL. okay, great, done that, but congratulations on 200 followers!! i had so much fun taking part in your writing challenge, so thank you so much. imma be honest, there’s not a lot of romance in this, it’s some enemies to friends type of shit and i genuinely did not think this fic would get so angsty and dark and actually long, but i had an idea and ran with it mid way through the old fic with this prompt. also i had an idea for an epilogue to this, so tell me if you want that part 2 because i am on the verge of writing it. this is not proofread by a beta, but i edited it myself and hope it is okay. anyways, now that we’re done with that, please enjoy this rollercoaster of a fanfic i’ve written.

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Life in the twenty-first century was strange, Bucky concluded. Though he’d been free of HYDRA for around nine years technically, being a fugitive and in another realm didn’t give him much time to learn about the modern world. As soon as he came back, Steve had left him and he had to move on without his childhood best friend. It was hard for him to adjust to this century, with the new rules and the whole scene in general, but he seemed to make it through just fine. He’d come to peace with the fact that there was no escaping the fighting at all, falling into a steady routine that became his holy grail. 

In the new Avengers compound in Upstate New York he felt content and more sure of himself than he’d felt in a very long time. Everyone in the tower was quiet and kept to themselves mostly, still dealing with the aftermath of losing so much in so little time. But in that silence Bucky felt like a free man, able to walk around without fear of being hunted down every second and time to really look about this new world.

There were still times when he woke up in a sweaty panic, disoriented and terrified until he realized he was in the safety of his room in the compound. He’d flinch at loud noises in the quiet and his heart would stop, something that went by unnoticed by everyone else, though he didn’t blame them for it. Bucky felt extreme guilt for the horrible things he had done as the Winter Soldier, memories of bloodied and dead bodies, bodies he had made fall to the ground motionless. It wasn’t him, he knew, but his hand still had pulled the trigger. When he found something new a smile would split across his face, ready to tell Steve what he had discovered, until he remembered that the rambunctious blond boy was gone, a wrinkled grey man with a new family in his place. It still hurt him to think that he had left him so easily, with barely a goodbye. Bucky still had days where he felt so incredibly tired, left still on his bed as horrible thoughts ran through his mind, anxious about the future.

But then he found new things everyday, things that seemed to outweigh the bad by a whole lot. He’d found cool ranch Doritos were the best chips and that he really liked the season of fall with the leaves falling around him as he took a serene walk. He found that he really loved Frozen, the songs and Sven the reindeer making him crack a smile every time he watched it. He found that he could sleep in on his days without missions and Wanda liked her pancakes with an unhealthy amount of syrup on the side to dunk them in. He found that Sam was actually really funny, always making the worst puns or the dirtiest jokes at the most inappropriate of times. He found a new sense of respect and warmth in the family they’d built together, learning how to go on without those that they loved. He found that he was really enjoying his new routine and his new sense of peace with himself.

All until she walked in.

Bucky could still remember the exact moment she flipped their world upside down. Sharon had fawned over her, talking about one of her old SHIELD buddies who was finally coming back to the states. After the organization fell in 2014, Y/N L/N fled to Hawaii, running away to the one place she knew no one would find her. She was done fighting, or that’s what she believed until Thanos showed up. 

It was shameful, really, that Y/N was aware of all the problems that went on, yet did nothing to help. They needed her help, she knew they did, but she couldn’t bring yourself to go help her friends. Originally she was trying for a settled down life, planning to retire from the constant fighting, but after a few failed relationships Y/N realized that she wasn't cut out for that white picket fence life. Those had just been the dreams of a fourteen year old Y/N L/N, left empty and hollow by the horrors she had seen during her time at SHIELD. There was nothing left waiting for her, no family, no friends, but she was too stubborn to get back into the fight, so she stayed in her humid Oahu apartment and waited for something interesting to happen.

Well, maybe Y/N shouldn’t have wished so hard, that “interesting thing” showing up in the form of being snapped out of existence by a large, purple grape.

When she came back she felt nearly indifferent, knowing that five years had passed by her, and though Y/N felt nothing but emptiness she knew that it was time to go back. It was her duty when she had joined SHIELD to always be there and protect, and she had failed that job. But Y/N was more than ready to make up for it. Nothing like Thanos could ever happen again, so she called Sharon, one of her closest friends and previous commanding supervisor at the organization. She was ecstatic to have Y/N back, probably a bit too much, and before she could have second thoughts the girl was on a plane overlooking JFK, ready to land in New York.

So when Y/N walked in, with a tight-lipped smile and butterflies anxiously fluttering in her stomach, Bucky couldn’t help but despise her. Maybe he had formed his opinion off of Sharon’s explanation of her past, but Y/N got the life of settling down that he didn’t and he was infuriatingly jealous. 

“Hey, Bucky, Sam, come meet Y/N!” Sharon said excitedly. Her hair was put back in a headband neatly, two suitcases in hand as she looked at the two tall, muscular men. Of course Y/N recognized both of them, she hadn’t been living under a rock. Keeping up with the news of the Avengers and remaining SHIELD officers had been one of the only things keeping her from coming back, hearing of the terrible fights and destruction done to whole cities. She recognized Sam Wilson, the infamous Falcon being marked down as a “war criminal” in 2016. She never believed that crap, if he and half of the other Avengers were locked up there had to be a good reason behind it.

Then, there was James Buchanan Barnes. Now, she knew him from her eighth grade American history books, reading about the brave Howling Commando who had given up his life for saving the country, but Y/N knew him better as the Winter Soldier from her time at SHIELD. The fight in 2014 had been brutal, hectic in all forms, but she’d caught a few glances at the metal-armed man. He hadn't been in his normal state, with being controlled and tortured by HYDRA at the time, but the kid inside of her freaked out, remembering memories of gossiping with her friends about how hot he was in the textbooks and how much of a hero he was. That man was still in there somewhere, hidden by decades of reprogramming and mind-wiping, and Y/N was finally seeing him in the flesh. She would be working with him daily, living in the same space as him. The thought made her giddy like a middle schooler with her first crush,though his presence was intimidating as well.

“Hi there, I’m Y/N L/N, it’s a pleasure to be working with you.” Sticking out her hand, she gave a bright smile, already growing out of her nervous state. 

Sam quickly shook Y/N’s hand, giving a warm greeting in response to her introduction. Then she turned to Bucky. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

His cold, dead glare locked onto Y/N, staring straight through her soul. It felt like he could see every insecurity and guilty action she had, and she didn’t like it one bit. “That’s Sergeant Barnes to you.” Without another word, he walked out of the room like a petulant child, leaving Sharon, Sam, and Y/N flabbergasted. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, he’s usually more friendly than that, I’ll go check in on him,” Sharon furiously said with a painfully fake smile. Sam grabbed the new girl by the arm, linking it with his own and led her in another direction as he explained the usual training routine and schedule for the week. 

And while she was completely enraptured by Sam’s comforting words and the exciting compound, her heart still felt heavy from Sergeant Barnes’ cold greeting. 

-

She had tried to be nice. She really had. But after two months it was pretty clear Sergeant Barnes wasn’t getting any better, and Y/N was beyond pissed off. Childish, is what he was being, fucking childish. 

It started off with leaving every room she came into, blatantly ignoring her presence. When she would say hello every morning he’d grunt or even worse, he wouldn’t answer her at all. Y/N had begged Sharon if she knew why the sergeant was acting up, but she didn’t know either and just asked her to ignore him and his “crappy, old-man behaviour”. Sam wasn’t very helpful to Y/N’s cause either, but he was a great mentor and an even better teacher.

Sharon was really the only person Y/N had in her phone, her parents dead and no boyfriend accounted for. The rest of her family had wanted nothing to do with her when she joined SHIELD, but that was okay with her. She knew what she had gotten herself into, and it was an extreme risk to even be acquaintances with her. But now, living with several others in a compound that seemed so large after the great loss, Y/N became part of their family as well. 

It was nice to have friends again, as years of solitude on an island where she knew nobody had made her nearly desperate for more human interaction than with the teenagers who worked the cash registers at the grocery store. Y/N became an integral part of the Avengers (she could actually say that aloud now), going on missions and kicking ass just like she used to. Of course, Sergeant Barnes’ behaviour in and out of missions stayed the same, but she usually tried her best to not take it to heart and move on. After all, she couldn’t have everyone like her.

But one day they both snapped.

Y/N was sitting with Sharon and Wanda, eating lunch and talking over their most recent mission with them and Barnes in Cairo. It hadn’t been a necessarily bad mission, per se, but she had run back into the building to get Wanda out from under a fallen pillar, which apparently was “severely dangerous”. Looking back, she could see how it was, putting her entire team’s secrecy and mission in volatile danger, but Wanda was like her sister and in Y/N’s heart she knew that she had to. Bucky had had to grab them both, nearly dragging her back to the jet before the building had collapsed. He’d been beyond angry with Y/N for the stupid decision, but when they landed he just huffed and stomped away. The redhead was grateful for her and so was Sharon, but lunch was just for a simple stern talking about mission protocols. 

“Y/N, I know that you’re a fantastic agent and even better friend, but when we’re on missions we need that agent. You can’t let your feelings and outside life get in the way of our objective.” Sharon said in a firm voice. Y/N dropped her head in her hands and rubbed her face tiredly.

“I know, Sharon, I’m sorry, Wanda could’ve probably gotten herself out but I just let my instincts act too fast and ran back in without another thought.” She groaned. “Plus, I just caused more damage than anything else. It won’t happen again, I promise.” Wanda and Sharon nodded in understanding just as the Asshole Supreme walked into the kitchen.

“You talking ‘bout how Y/N fucked up the mission yesterday?” Sergeant Barnes grunted. While Sharon and Wanda gasped in shock, Y/N’s eyes were trained at the plate on the table in front of her, not daring to make a sound. She muttered out a sorry and got up to put her dish in the sink. As long as he was here, he was going to make her life a living hell, and as much as she wanted to lash out, it would be cause for her dismissal from the team. While her old, solitary life was what she had once dreamed of, Y/N now saw her future among these people, this family, somewhere she finally felt a part of despite Barnes’ horrid behaviour. “Sorry?” He scoffed, “Sorry doesn’t make up for the fact that I had to run back in for you. Sorry doesn’t make up for the extreme risks we all pull to save your ass out in the field.”

“Bucky, stop.” Sharon yelled.

But he ignored her words and sauntered over to Y/N with a knowing smirk, leaning down to meet her level. His warm breath hit her face and she could stare into his deep eyes, swirling like a raging storm of blues and greys. “You shouldn’t even be out there, L/N. I mean, you haven’t had training in years, it’s not like you were anything special either. Just another agent, hoping to get to work in the big leagues.”

“Shut up.” Y/N whispered meekly. Tears were just barely being held in, her chest feeling empty and hollow with anger and guilt. Is this what it felt like to want to kill someone with so much vengeance? 

“Where were you when Thanos came? Where were you, L/N? We needed all the help we could get, but there you are, in fucking Hawaii, with you little fucking margaritas on the fucking beach-”

“Shut the fuck up!” She screamed. The room went dead silent with her voice. None of the team had seen Y/N look so angry, so sad, so vulnerable, at one time. It was easy for her to hide her emotions and Wanda refrained from trying to toy with her mind, but shame was overwhelming the girl by the second and Sergeant Barnes was right, as much as she didn’t want to say it. She was a coward, thinking she could run away from the “hero life” so easily. They’d caught her, and Barnes was making her face that truth right now. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I know, that I was absolutely scared shitless of returning here, facing all of you after what you endured for so long?” 

Y/N took a deep breath, laughing mirthlessly as tears ran hot down her cheeks. “I’m sorry that I came back, I really am, but I’m trying my damn best to make up for what I did. Being scared is no excuse for why I ran away, I was fucking terrified of having one more thing to lose. My family is dead, SHIELD fell, and I had no one to lean on so I ran as far as I fucking could. But I’m back now, I’m ready to serve up to what I left behind, and you better fucking deal with it because this,” she jabbed a finger into his broad chest, “is not fucking it. I’m not going to live with your shitty behaviour anymore, Barnes.”

He, Wanda, and Sharon all watched as she slammed the plate into the sink, storming out of the room. They could hear her door slam shut, and the two women glared at Bucky.

“What the hell is your problem, Barnes” Wanda hissed in a scarily low voice. Fuck. He knew he’d messed up then, gone farther than he ever dared to with insulting Y/N, and both of the women were severely overprotective of the new Avenger. 

Sharon walked up to Bucky with large strides, delivering a slap to the side of his head. Yeah, he definitely deserved that. It was dead silent in the kitchen, the tension still high strung from the fight seconds before. “You better go apologize, Barnes, I swear to God this has gotten far too out of hand. You two have a mission tomorrow, estimated a month, and wheels are up at 2300 hours. I need you two to go get the intel quietly and undetected and we can’t have both of you arguing the whole damn time, so you better fix things by then.”

The blonde agent walked away, Wanda trailing behind her, but not without the middle finger from both of them. A mission? Tomorrow? With Y/N? This was going to be horrible. Bucky ran a hand over his face and trudged off to his room. 

It was going to be a long month.

-

Y/N stared out of the window as they flew over the clouds above the Mediteranean Sea. Eleven in the morning in Italy gave a clear view of the skies, light blue as far as she could see. They were ready to start their descent into Azzano and the woman glanced to the man beside her, his stormy blue eyes glaring in any direction but hers. The sergeant had avoided her all he could up until they boarded the jet, and even then he only spoke to her when necessary. “Hey, Barnes, we’re starting to descend, go get ready.”

The brunette looked over to Y/N and grunted in response. Oh well, it was better than him yelling at her. His little outburst in the kitchen had her pissed at him more than ever, but the words thrown around still rung true in her head. But now wasn’t the time to think about that.

She paid careful attention to where she was supposed to land, a shaded facility almost five miles south of where they had to get the intel from an old, but rebuilt HYDRA base. The same base where James Buchanan Barnes was once held captive, experimented on and tortured until Steve Rogers came to save him. Y/N didn’t care much for Barnes usually, but she also didn’t know how he’d react to being in a location with such horrible memories attached to it. They had both been at the mission briefing the day before of course, he knew what it entailed and he seemed unfazed, and he was always good at hiding his emotions. As the jet touched down finally, the agent thought back. Well, sometimes he was good at hiding his emotions.

Making sure her comm fit snugly in her ear, Y/N unbuckled herself from the seat, heading back towards the wall of weaponry they kept in the back of the jet. Barnes was already there dressed in hs black kevlar tactical suit, hugging his body nicely and vibranium arm on display. When he was around her he tried to hide it, and she saw him joking around and being comfortable in other’s presence with it out, wondering what made her so different. She personally found it fascinating, the beauty of the gold and black metal with the incredible Wakandan technology, but she respected his privacy and tried to not think too much about it. 

Y/N threw a vest on over her own navy blue tac suit, tightening her combat boots before she fully zipped up. Were they finally ready?

Three guns perched in holsters by her waist.

Two taps to her earpiece and Barnes’ breathing in her ear.

One mutual nod with the sergeant himself, and they were off, slowly making their way to grab the intel, not a trace to be left behind. 

-

Getting stuck in the trunk of a car was not in the plan. It definitely wasn’t. Bucky remembered every single inch and cranny of that meticulously planned out schedule, every move, every kill they had to make, but not once was it mentioned that Y/N was to get stuck in Baron Zemo’s car without any weapons on her.

“L/N, what the hell do you mean you’re in the back of Zemo’s car.” He seethed, already searching frantically around the large remains of the building for her. It had gone smoothly, she was just supposed to quickly check inside his car as he searched the base. It’ll be so much quicker if I do it, L/N, is what he had said, but now he regretted it. Like the incompetent fool she was, she was spotted and ended up shooting out half of Zemo’s goonies before dropping all her weapons to the ground and running when she ran out of ammunition.

“There may have been a slight misunderstanding,” Y/N whispered into her comm, “but nothing we can’t fix! Just come find me, Barnes, and all will be well.”

She could hear his angry curses and jostling, which she assumed he was running to come find her. It wasn’t entirely Y/N’s fault she had run out of ammo. Some of it must have fallen from her pockets during the shootout and when she saw the car she thought it’d be the perfect place to hide. Until she realized that no one else was at the partially burned down HYDRA base besides Baron Zemo, the person who Sharon had told her to avoid at all costs, and she was in his damn car. Practically her death note.

“If you had just listened to me you wouldn’t have been caught!” Bucky furiously whispered through the comms. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, though he couldn’t even see her, and groaned. “I did listen to you, Barnes, I checked the damn car, but we weren’t expecting his guards to find me so I killed them and hid. Is that actually so bad?” 

“Yes it is!’ He explained. “Give me your coordinates.” She checked the small watch on her wrist, pushing a button on the side that gave a small holographic image of the time and her coordinates on a world wide map. Reciting them for him, Bucky followed, continuing to berate her as he did so. “And you’re right, L/N, I asked you to check the car, not fucking jump inside it!”

This time Bucky could envision her rolling her eyes as she groaned even louder in very Y/N L/N fashion. “Would you rather I be dead?” She asked. It had been a few seconds, but she still received no response. “Barnes?” Crackling. “Sergeant?” Absolute nothingness. “Sarge?”

The trunk of the car opened as the woman let out a squeak, the broad frame of James Barnes hovering above her, some dirt smudged around the annoyed expression on his face. “Don’t call me that.” He grumbled.

He reached his hand towards her, grasping her own tightly before pulling her to a sitting position. “Why, you had all the ladies calling you that back in the day?” She mimicked a much higher tone, nearly resembling Snow White if the princess were high on drugs and had a Brooklyn accent. “Hey, Sarge, we goin’ dancing? Sarge, you goin’ to give me some sweet lovin’ tonight? Oh, how I’d just love for you to shove your fat, ugly head up your a-”

A loud beeping from his wristwatch cut her off. With a glare, the man let go of Y/N’s hand, checking to see what the problem was. A small red tracker on the map moved, and both of them knew they were in deep shit. “Crap, Zemo’s coming this way. That’s one of the trackers I set up on the ground and we gotta go quick.”

Faint whistling from Baron Zemo made both of them panic as Bucky tackled her back down and quickly shut the door behind him. Footsteps were approaching, the whistling getting louder and a door opening let the two Avengers know that they couldn’t get out anytime soon. Y/N could feel Bucky’s racing heart against her chest, hers beating just as fast. He turned to face her, a lot closer than both of them expected, lips dangerously close and noses nudging against each other. Ther breaths mixed together, the hot air of the car doing nothing to help her current close quarters with the man. 

“Can you bust us out of here?” She whispered hurriedly, rather uncomfortable with the present situation.

“We’ll die if we leave now. He’s much more prepared than we thought and with half his men down he knows something is up. Zemo wasn’t even supposed to know we were here so we’re far too unprepared and you lost your damn weapons. There’s no way we can go out so we’re going to stick in here until he gets out.”

Truth be told, Bucky was terrified and had no clue what to do next. Being stuck in a small confined space with Y/N had to be his worst nightmare, especially after he didn’t apologize for his shitty behavior last night. And the night before. 

And the several months before that.

From his view Y/N seemed to be uncomfortable and as the car started moving, she wiggled around, struggling to get as far away from Bucky as she could. He too was extremely uncomfortable, but as her wriggling continued, his already tight fitting pants seemed to get even impossible tighter as she practically grinded on him. 

“Would you stop squirming around?” Y/N shot him what would’ve been a questioning glance if not for the pitch blackness of the trunk, and heard his loud sigh, warm breath fanning across her face. “I’m sorry, I’m having a situation, uh, down there and your wiggling isn’t helping it too much.”

Her face heated up, not knowing what to feel after he said that. Was he… flustered? Y/N had never seen Bucky Barnes anything less than grumpy or professional before.

When she said nothing, he assumed the worst and thought she saw him as a disgusting and creepy person. Before that moment he’d never had any particular care about how Y/N felt, but he knew that there were still a lot of perverts, if not more perverts than back in his day. With his four little sisters always getting catcalled and the crude men who thought women were their property, Bucky knew it was definitely terrifying to be assaulted or any situation such as this. 

There wasn’t much he could do, but he shifted so they weren’t lying down hip bone to hip bone. “Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, I don’t want you to think I’m a pervert or anything, it’s just been a while since I, well, y’know…”

“I understand, Barnes, but thank you for apologizing.” Y/N said carefully. It was weird to hear the now shy and surprisingly considerate sergeant apologize to her, but she had to admit that her respect for him had gone up. 

He cleared his throat in return, trying to turn in any other direction besides hers as they listened to the tires of the car bumping along the road, heart wildly thumping. 

It was quiet. Far more quiet than it had ever been when either of them were in the same room. As Y/N stared down at Bucky’s head, almost resting on her stomach, she saw the man she’d read about in middle school. For a moment she was able to look past the last few months of fighting and hatred, and see the noble sergeant she’d admired for so long. 

“You can rest your head if you want to, I knew keeping it up like that must be hurting your neck. I promise I’m okay with it.” She reassured him. With a small hesitation, Barnes submitted to his screaming neck muscles and laid his head on her stomach, the vest providing cushion. A few more seconds of silence and gathering courage, and she finally asked him the question she had been wondering since her first day at the compound. “Why do you hate me?”

I’m jealous, he wanted to say, but he wasn’t brave enough to say it. With a small sigh, he managed to get out, “I don’t.”

“Then why are you so cold to me all the time?” Emotions that were borrowed so deep inside Y/N’s chest seemed to come barreling out, seeping into every question that she asked. “Am I really that horrible an agent? Do you not think I’m trying my best? I know I made a mistake, I wasn’t there when you all needed me, but I’m trying so, so damn hard to make up for it. I swear on my life, and every one that comes after it, that I’m-”

“It’s not you, it’s me, God damn it!” Bucky exclaimed angrily. Both of their blood ran cold in fear that Zemo might have heard them, but the radio continued to drone on in the background, nothing seeming to have changed. He took a deep sigh and tried how to best explain it to her. Even though he’d probably never have Y/N’s forgiveness for insulting her so plainly and hurting her so much, he felt as though she deserved as much as his reasoning as to why he “disliked” her so much. It was difficult for him to say, having to also put his pride away for once to just admit it. “I’m jealous of you, Y/N. You got the sweet life for a while, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. When you look at us who remain, not a single one of us was planning to be an Avenger. You were getting the dream home, the kids, the family that I’ve wanted since I was a boy back in Brooklyn, and all you had to do to get it was run away. It was so simple.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, not at all expecting that. “It wasn’t all too much ‘sweet life’, you know? It was my dream when I was younger, I thought being an agent was temporary and then I’d move into a big, old house with a loving spouse and have millions of little carbon copies of myself to occupy my days. But the truth about what we do is that we can only stay away from it for so long, Barnes. With people like us,” she squeezed her eyes shut, letting the final tears roll down her cheeks, “there’s no running away from the hero's life. It's just who we are. We’ve already done too much to change that part of our lives.” 

Y/N felt him nod through the fabric on her skin, sniffles letting her know that he was crying too. They were connected. All the shouting, all the yelling, the pain, the battles, the fore, the blood, the years of torture, all led to this moment. This historic moment in Y/N and Bucky’s relationship where they both waved white flags, wet faces and hearts filled with sorrow for the life they never had. 

“I’m so sorry for the way I dealt with my anger and jealousy, Y/N.” Bucky croaked. 

“I used to idolize you when I was a kid.” Y/N recalled with a faint smile on her face. “In the eighth grade I wrote a history paper on you, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, American hero and inspiration to all. And you know, I always kinda had a crush on you. Wondered what it would be like if you were still alive, if you would’ve gone home after the war, if you would’ve had a family. No matter what wild thoughts ran through my head, though, you were always my hero.” Bucky took her confession in shock, pure amazement and surprise coursing through his body. Maybe a little bit of sadness, longing for that old life, maybe a bit of bashfulness of her having a crush on his as a schoolgirl. “And then I met you and you were this grumpy, irritable old man who seemed to despise me as soon as I walked in the door. Definitely not what I had expected.” He opened his mouth, ready to apologize again, when her next words cut him off. “I want to start over, don’t you?”

How was she so calming? Her words were exactly what he needed to hear and didn’t need to at the same time. Her voice brought back all the old memories of running around New York with Steve as a kid, reminding him of his wise ma in a way. “There’s nothing I’d like more than that, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled to herself, looking towards the top of the car. “Perfect.”

And with the twinkle in her eye and his head resting on her stomach with a small grin, it really was.

[n-blanca-archived]

↳ CLASS 1-A HC’S TO MAKE YOU SMILE (hopefully) 

A/N: i’ve been on class-1a brainrot (yes, all of them. collectively) for SO LONG and honestly? I love it here. romance is all good and dandy but FRIENDSHIP? good shit. 

on that note, these pairings are all platonic! just little things i like about their dynamics or things i think they’d do when they hang out :) feel free to see them as romantic though, not like i can stop you :P

p.s sorry for dipping??? for like months???

genre: fluff

warnings: minor situational angst

→ Denki & Izuku

❑ These two boys are the other’s hype-man, totally. Kaminari absolutely does not mind sitting through Izuku’s ravings about the fluctuating hero rankings, or even just the times where Izuku mutters on and on. 

❑ Kaminari’s been ignored enough times to know that it doesn’t feel good at all to want to talk to someone and for them to sheepishly tell you they’d long since stopped listening. Izuku does the same for Denki, no question. Sometimes Denki starts talking, and he doesn’t really...stop. 

❑ But Izuku finds it’s nice to hang out with the boy, and he doesn’t mind not contributing to the conversation when Denki looks so elated to see someone listening for once. 

❑ While I will forever be the number one advocate for Bakugou tutoring Denki and finding different studying strategies that work for Denki instead of giving up on him, I think Izuku’s just as likely to do that for kami! 

❑ It’s a frustrating first session, but once Izuku’s brian suggests that Kami might just need another method of studying, he takes that idea and runs with it. 

❑ The next week, kami goes to Izuku’s room a little afraid of the freckled boy rejecting him- but to his surprise, Izuku presents him with all types of new study methods, including colored index cards and a home-made sentence reader that covered the entire page except for one line at a time.

❑ (yes, he did tear up for a second.) 

❑ They end up going through that week's chapter in half the time it usually took Denki to get a subject, and they got to play video games afterward! 

→ Ochako & Katsuki

❑ While I don't think the boys in 1-A look down on the girls in the sense of "but they're girls so they are weaker :(" all that much- Katsuki was the first and only one really to make that clear. He didn't see her as something or someone to pity. She was an opponent and a damn capable one at that.

❑ So, yes. Maybe Ochako and Katsuki aren't exactly best friends who'd die for each other. But they’ve proven to each other that if there's someone who'll bring their all to a fight no matter the circumstance, it's each other.

❑ Ochako’s weariness when it came to Katsuki was short lived. It was kind of hard to be so...afraid of someone who treated you better than others seemed to coddle her when she told them she was a hero-in-training. 

❑ It starts small, too. At first it was just teaming up occasionally during class for spars. Then it was going to the gym after school with Katsuki and Eijirou. 

❑ Tiny little hang-outs like that then turn into joining the blonde on his morning runs every once in a while, and eventually Ochako found herself seeking out Bakugou every weekend, and the blonde seemed to be on the same mind-track, too. Every Sunday, when Ochako pulled open the front door, she spotted Katsuki, stretching out in the front lawn, waiting for her. 

❑ (and if they occasionally have breakfast together after their bi-weekly sunday training sessions, then that's their business.)

→ Shouto & Eijirou

❑ them hanging out wasn't really ever. Expected. Like, at all.

❑ but kirishima's shown that he has a knack for weird, almost hostile awkward boys with low friend counts

❑ so shouto fits right in

❑ really it starts when Kirishima finds Shouto in the common room, staring into space. Usually he'd leave him be, but it was weird to see the boy without his group of friends joining him

❑ in an effort to get to know shouto better, kiri offers to play a few rounds of super smash bros,,, and shouto just. blinks. at him. And kiri blinked back for a second before he realizes shouto didn't know what super smash bros was

❑ and of course, to kiri, that's absolute blasphemy

❑ so kiri abandons his trip to the kitchen in favor of sitting next to shouto on the couch, and teaching him how to play as many video games as they could fit in one night

❑ (the first time kiri sees shouto laugh, he can't help the way his face splits into a grin. Todoroki, while not mean, was someone who came off as cold most of the time, so to see him so relaxed made Eijirou feel warm.)

❑ somehow it becomes a regular thing-- shouto would come downstairs, and eventually Kirishima would show up. Sometimes they were both alone, sometimes they were surrounded by their friend groups. But every time without fail, Kirishima would take his place next to shouto, hand him the blue controller that he favored, and turned on the TV to select the first game they'd be playing

❑ (watching Shouto start to gain some of Kirishima's vernacular was also an interesting - read:hilarious - experience)

→ Mina & Yuga

❑break dancing buddies

❑ like. I'm not kidding these two have moves.

❑ well. Mina does, at least. Aoyama gets it pretty quickly but it took him a second to familiarize himself with how your body moves when your break dancing.

❑ aoyama's danced ballet most of his life, so dancing wasn't new to him

❑ but this particular type of dancing was new to him- so of course he reached out to mina after the UA festival

❑ mina, ever the angel, agreed!!!!! Dancing buddies!!!

❑ Mina's also loved dance for a good amount of time

❑ it started in middle school, and just carried into highschool. The idea of being to express yourself with your /body/ was exciting, plus you looked really cool while doing it too!

❑ so when she gets asked by Aoyama to teach him how to breakdance she's nervous, but completely giddy to be able to be someone else's intro to a hobby that was a big part of her life

❑ it's not an uncommon sight to see mina and Aoyama, in their workout clothes, working through moves Step by step with Mina's phone blasting some random song that was beat heavy

❑ (Aoyama would be an interesting extra add on to the bakusquad. Am I wrong? No 🚗)

→ Hanta & Tsuyu

❑ Sero never really interacted with tsuyu, not to say he didn't like her! she just wasn't in his social circle

❑ so to say he felt awkward when he found her in the corner of the library during free period- curled up and sniveling away - was an understatement

❑ still, he put down the fourth issue of a manga he was /really/ looking forward to catching up on, and sat next to her until she calmed down enough to tell him what's wrong

❑ turns out, winter always sucked and made her tired, which made her sad. Added on to the already existing amphibian instincts in her that hated loud noises or too many people, it could get really overwhelming for her

❑ Sero offered to let her into his room whever she wanted to hang out in the quiet, if she felt embarrassed to do so with her closer friends

❑ she seemed surprised, but quickly agreed.

❑ Sero wouldn't tell her, but he often felt the same in a sense. The only two people in his friend group who could be relatively quiet in more personal settings were Bakugou, ironically, and Kirishima. So he often found himself leaving group hang-outs just a little early, to destress in his quiet room.

❑ tsuyu hadn't expected him to stay with her, and especially not offer his room to her whenever she needed to get away. Still, she agreed, knowing she'd probably never take him up on his offer

❑ she was proven wrong three days later, when Ochako squealed about...something.

❑ tsuyu couldn't say for sure what the floaty girl was yelling about. Normally she was attentive, really! But her head was throbbing and she was on the verge of falling asleep then and there when Ochako burst into a loud yell of excitement, startling the frog-like girl

❑ so tsuyu gathered her stuff as quickly as her sluggish body allowed, rushed out a quick goodbye to her baffled friends and made her way to the dorms

❑ the elevator was a struggle, with the humming of the machinery almost lulling her to sleep. She made it out successfully, though due to her drowsiness and increasingly blurring vision, she realized just a little too late that she had wandered down the wrong hallway

❑ sero's name plate made her stutter in her tracks, but after a moment of deliberation that left her swaying on her feet, she knocked as strongly as she could on the thin door, hoping the lanky boy was in his room

❑ thankfully, he was, and he only offered her a small smile before ushering her into the room and guiding her to his bed. Tsuyu thinks she croaked out a tiny "thanks", but she couldn't really be sure

❑ she slept better in those 39 minutes than she had in weeks

❑ after that, tsuyu somehow got into the habit of wandering down the opposite hallway once she left the elevator, and most of the time Sero would open his door when she knocked, only giving her a smile before letting her wander to his bed or, more commonly, the pile of blankets and bean bags he had in a corner of his room.

❑ (she wouldn't admit it, and neither would he, but the times where they walked back to his dorm together once their free period began were their favorites. and the days where tsuyu wasn't so sleepy and they talked for the hour they had weren't so bad, either)

okokok i’m cutting it here since that last section was super long! who knew i had so much to say about hanta and tsuyu ,,,, 

anyway! this was super fun, so i’ll definitely be doing stuff like this more in the future. if you have two characters you’d particularly like to see, don’t be afraid to jump into my ask box! 

[sassyhobbits]

Tinder Au pt 2

yall ask, i deliver. Enjoy!

part 1

~~~

When Rowan’s Tinder match had ended up being his new coworker, he had expected a few tense days of awkwardness that they would eventually work through. He then hoped for them to become friends, or at least build a kind of casual, professional relationship. Eventually, the entire thing would have been a funny memory they would be able to laugh at in the future.

He hadn’t expected that she would end up driving him up the fucking wall.

Aelin was loud and opinionated. In the short month and a half she had been at the gym, she had practically taken over, moving through the facility like wildfire. All of the members adored her, as did the staff. Even Lorcan, who only really liked the nutritionist, Elide, managed to tolerate Aelin.

Maybe what pissed him off the most was the fact that she barely paid him a second glance. Aelin talked to everyone, knew all their names and facts about them, but almost never spoke to him. When he had called off the date and put some professional distance between them, Rowan didn’t expect her to take it as she had. He had liked her enough when they chatted, he didn’t want to cut off ties completely.

Maybe he was extra pissed off because of how people flocked to her, of how she soaked up the attention. She was a beautiful girl, afterall. She smiled and flirted here and there, but none of that attention went towards Rowan.

Maybe… maybe he was just pissed because he had missed out on the opportunity to be the one she smiled at like that.

Regardless of why, it didn’t change the fact that he was pissed. Extra pissed this morning, actually. He had reached out towards a usual client of his, wondering when he wanted to train again, only to find out that he had started training with Aelin.

Rowan had been clenching his jaw all morning, nearly on the verge of breaking a tooth, when he spotted her at the front desk, handing a coffee to Lysandra. He strode towards her, slamming his clipboard down on the marble, and bit out, “Quit stealing my fucking clients, Galathynius!”

Aelin barely reacted to his fury, only raising a brow and taking a sip from her coffee. “Good morning to you too, Rowan.”

He narrowed her eyes. “I’m serious. This is the second client this week. Why?”

“To begin with, I’m not stealing them. They’re coming willingly to me.” Aelin leaned her weight against the desk. “If you’re wondering why they’re coming to me… one, my ass looks great in leggings. Two, I do this thing called smiling. People tend to like it when you smile instead of scowling like you love to do.”

Rowan scowled. “Why do you even work here? Don’t you make money from your stupid Instagram?”

Apparently, Aelin had a solid following on Instagram. His coworker, Fenrys, had shown him a few days after she had started. Fenrys had become instantly enamoured with Aelin and her Instagram. It was full of pictures of Aelin showing off her body that she had worked so hard for, fitness tips, pictures of her and her friends, tasteful selfies. Rowan had spent more time than he cared to admit scrolling through it once he got home that evening. Gods, she was a beautiful girl.

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Do you know how to make money through Instagram? Running ads. And the only people who want me to run their ads are the fake-detox teas that are just diuretics. So, besides the money I get here and there from sponsoring some leggings, I do need an actual job to pay my rent. But don’t worry. Remelle hates me, so she’ll pay yours.”

Rowan’s scowl only deepened at the mention of the client he had been training for the past few months. Remelle only trained with him because she was attracted to him. The only reason he hadn’t told her to fuck off was beacuse her frequent sessions did help pay for his groceries. And she did absolutely despise Aelin because of the attention she received from the other males in the gym and her popularity online, so she wouldn’t be going to her for training.

Rowan heard footsteps approach from behind, felt someone slap his shoulder in greeting.

“You look like you woke up with a stick up your ass this morning, Whitethorn,” Fenrys said as a form of hello.

“He doesn’t look like that everyday?” Aelin asked, raising a brow. Lysandra at least tried to hide her laugh behind her hand. She handed Fenrys a coffee from the drink carrier she had brought.

“You working tomorrow?” Fenrys asked her, completely oblivious to the argument he just interrupted.

“Nope.”

“You wanna hit legs with me?”

“Only if you buy lunch after.”

“Deal.”

Rowan ground his teeth again at the exchange. He, unfortunately, worked tomorrow and would get the pleasure of watching them dick around together while he had to work. Not to mention, Remelle was his client tomorrow, so he would also get to listen to her make passive aggressive comments about Aelin the entire session.

“Well, if all you fine people would excuse me, I have a client,” Aelin announced, pushing away from the desk. As she brushed past him, she placed a hand on Rowan’s shoulder. “Do try and stay busy. I know you don’t have a full schedule today.”

Rowan glared at her. Brat.

Her brows flickered up. And proud.

With that, she dropped her hand and strode away.

The place her hand had been burned like a brand.

…

The next day, Rowan was struggling to focus on his session. Remelle was being her normal… charming self as he walked her through a few new exercises. Unfortunately for him, Aelin was working out only a few feet away and she was… distracting, to say the least.

When she was working, Aelin wore the standard quarter-zip and plain leggings. But, when she came to workout on her days off, she sported a much more varied wardrobe. Today, she wore a matching legging and sports bra set in a deep green. It was flattering, and fit her in all the right places. Her golden hair was swept out of her face in a high ponytail that swung around animatedly as she moved. She tossed her head back in a laugh at something Fenrys had said.

Rowan watched as she adjusted the weight on the bar, positioning herself below it, and doing a set of lunges. Her form was perfect, of course, face pinched in concentration. It was an impressive amount of weight to be fair.  

She finished her set, reracking the weights and wiping her brows with a towel. Rowan’s eyes ran up and down her body, her golden-tan skin, toned stomach, strong legs and shaped ass. It was no wonder why she had so many followers, why so many people looked to her for advice.

“Rowan!”

Rowan blinked, realizing he had been lost in his own thoughts. Or, lost in Aelin, rather. He hadn’t noticed that Remelle had been trying to get his attention.

“Sorry, what?”

Remelle huffed out a breath, blowing a strand of her pale blonde-hair out of her eyes. “Am I doing this right?”

Rowan refrained from rolling his eyes as Remelle did the move wrong, no doubt intentionally. It was a game she liked to play, doing an exercise wrong to get Rowan to touch her to get it right. He was quickly growing tired of it.

“Move your feet a bit closer together.”

Remelle huffed again, clearly upset that her plan didn’t work. She finished the exercise before straightening and planting her hands on her hips. “So, you busy later tonight?”

Rowan lowered his brows. “Why?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner together.”

Rowan hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. It was always awkward trying to turn down a client, something that Lysandra had often griped about. When you worked customer service, it made rejection that much harder. What the fuck was he supposed to say that wouldn’t piss her off enough to complain to Lorcan?

Remelle raised a brow at his prolonged silence.

Rowan’s savior came dressed in Lululemon.

“Hey,” Aelin greeted breathily, placing her hand on his back. “Are we still getting dinner tonight?”

He had to struggle to keep his confusion to himself. They had made no such plans, and Aelin was touching him so casually after barely looking his way for a month. Rowan glanced down at her questioning, but the look on her face only seemed to say, Go along with it, buzzard.

“Yeah, of course.”

Remelle pressed her lips into a tight line. “Oh. I didn’t know that you two were together.”

“Yeah,” Aelin nodded, cocking her head to the side and holding out a hand. “I don’t think we’ve met before. Rebecca, isn’t it?”

Aelin knew damn well who Remelle was, even if they hadn’t been formally introduced. It made her purposeful butchering of her name even more entertaining. Rowan struggled to hold back the bark of laughter he wanted to release.

“Remelle,” she ground out, shaking Aelin’s hand once and dropping it so fast one would think it burned her. Remelle picked up her phone and glanced at the time. “Well, it looks like our session is up. I’ll see you next week.”

With that, Remelle swept away down the hall, leaving them alone. Once she was far enough away, Aelin took a step back.

“You owe me, Rowan Whitethorn.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“No, but you looked so lost and uncomfortable that I took pity.” Aelin gave a tiny shrug. “Besides, at least she didn’t cancel on you next week. She probably thinks she can get you to leave me. Hell, maybe she’ll book more sessions now. So… you’re welcome.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Maybe I am,” Aelin said, walking back towards where Fenrys stood to finish her workout. “And yet… you still owe me. Be ready.”

She didn’t even give him a chance to say something snappy back before she turned her back and strode away.

God gods was she infuriating. And yet Rowan knew he would keep coming back for more.  

[jeonsjiddies]

right where you want me (m) | pjm

summary - nothing was getting you off anymore, no matter how hard you tried. Luckily, your neighbor Jimin was happy to help.

rating- explicit 18+

word count- 3680

pairing- jimin x reader

genre- smut 

Warnings: rough sex, spanking, oral (female recieving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex

a/n thank you so much to @sweetnspicy93​ for beta reading and helping me you’re amazing 

“Mmm.. Jimin! Fuck!” you moaned, the familiar fire burning deep in your belly.

You worked yourself closer to release, one hand pumping the vibrator in and out of your aching hole while the other circled your clit. You were teetering on the edge, so close to release, images of Jimin’s ass in his slacks from when he’d dressed up the night before flitted through your mind. You imagined your heels digging into that plump bottom, legs wrapped around his torso while he fucked you senseless. 

You could almost feel the weight of his body on yours, could almost imagine he was really there with you, if it weren’t for the buzzing noise coming from between your thighs. You tried imagining that Jimin was using the toy on you instead, but you could already feel your orgasm retreating as your fantasy dissolved and reality washed over you like a splash of cold water. You’d been so close this time… until it died away, leaving you unsatisfied. Again. 

You groan in frustration for probably the 100th night in a row. Laying in your bed with your vibrator in hand just wasn’t doing the trick. Nothing seemed to do the trick anymore. You’d tried Tinder hookups, you’d tried the detachable shower head, probably 15 different sex toys, and nothing was getting you off anymore. You were convinced your pussy was broken.

On the verge of tears, you chucked the useless toy against the wall with a thud, and it hit the floor and split open, batteries rolling in different directions.You watched them roll away and sighed, pulling your pajama shorts back up and accepting defeat. 

You weren’t sure why you even tried anymore. It was clear you’d probably never get to orgasm again. Your problem began when your new neighbor moved in next door. It was 3 and a half months ago, and one look at the man had you weak in the knees. He radiated sex appeal.  From his skin tight jeans that showcased his perfect ass to his flowing, see-through white top unbuttoned about halfway, teasing you with defined abs, to his piercing eyes and the plushest lips you’d ever seen in your life. 

Even the way he walked made arousal pool in your panties. He knew he was sexy, he had the toned body of a dancer and his movements were graceful and confident. When he’d directed his pearly white smile at you, you were a goner. That was the day that Park Jimin had ruined you.

You’d gotten to know Jimin a little better over the past few months. You both left for work at the same time and would walk to your cars together, chatting about anything and nothing at all. Sometimes he’d get up early to bring you coffee or you’d bring him some cookies you’d made. You were friendly enough, but you did try to keep a little bit of distance since being anywhere within ten feet of him had you feral and dizzy.

If Jimin noticed your obsession with him, he didn’t say anything. He just smiled at you like everything was normal and asked if you’d caught the newest episode of The Masked Singer. Jimin was kind, he was funny, he was polite, and he was devastatingly handsome. Every new fact you learned about him only made you like him more, want him more.

How many nights did you lay alone in your bed, fantasizing about Jimin and the way his hips moved? How much stamina he must have? He’d dance for hours at the local studio, you knew he could go several rounds. He had so much control over his body, you loved imagining how that would play into how well he could fuck your brains out. Pretty well, you guessed.

Just this morning, he’d offered to give you a ride to work, saying that he had a dancing class to teach nearby at a new venue. You’d agreed, not wanting to be rude, and also it was good for the environment, right? Cutting on gas emissions. That was why you wanted to get in his car. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You immediately regretted that decision. Jimin’s car was very nice and clean, but it was small. His thick, juicy thighs were mere centimeters from your own and his hand brushed against yours whenever he had to change gears. Jimin's car smelled like him- prim and proper with a hint of his cologne. Sitting so close to him, completely enveloped in the scent of him in the small space.. you could almost imagine him leaning your seat back and having his way with you in his car. You had to rub your thighs together to get some comfort from the pooling moisture between your thighs. This was going to be a major test of your self control.

You tried to focus on the tranquil turn of the steering wheel in Jimin's hands instead. Jimin was a smooth driver, which you weren’t surprised about. It seemed like you couldn’t find a single thing he didn’t excel at. You couldn’t help but notice his eyes flicking over to you every so often though, making your cheeks turn a dark shade of pink. Jimin was paying more attention to you than the road and didn’t notice the speed bump. He didn’t slow down in time and drove right over it, jostling the whole car. His arm shot out to shield you from the impact, his hand landing right above your breast. 

Your brain seemed to short circuit, your eyes widened and you stared at Jimin’s hand. He was frozen in shock and made no attempt to remove his hold on your body. You could barely breathe, the heat from his skin soaking through your shirt had shivers racing through your spine. You were vibrating with sexual tension, losing your mind. When he finally regained his senses, he yanked his arm back, fingers accidentally grazing across your nipple. Your body jolted and heat rushed between your thighs. If you didn’t get out of his car soon you were going to attack him.

“I’m… I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.” he mumbled.

“It’s okay.” you tried to make your voice sound even, but it came out breathless. 

You thanked Jimin once you’d exited the car and politely refused his offer to pick you up after work, lying that you had plans with a friend. You’d spent all day at work horny as you’d 8ever been, tortured for eight hours with sticky thighs and an unbearable yearning between your legs, which was what brought you here, denied yet another orgasm because you just wanted Jimin between your thighs, not that stupid plastic imitation. 

Even now you couldn’t stop shivering when you thought back to how close he was, how good he smelled… you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining his sweaty body after dance class… You punched your pillow with a loud whine before you heard a heavy knock at your door. You made your way to the front door and opened it, immediately being pushed back into the wall with a pair of soft, plushy lips on yours.

You only knew it was Jimin by his smell, and the small flash you’d seen of him before he’d basically attacked you.You froze for a moment, shocked and reeling. Jimin was kissing you. The same Jimin who had consumed your thoughts and dreams for months. Those soft, pink lips were pressed against your own and it felt better than you could’ve ever imagined. You kissed him back with fervor, though you weren’t really sure what brought this on, you weren’t about to tell him no. Live out your fantasies first, ask questions later. His kisses left your lips and moved over to the shell of your ear.

“You know our bedrooms share a wall, right?” he purred, “I’ve been listening to you fuck yourself for months, calling out my name.” 

“What?” you squeaked in embarrassment, trying to cling to the minimal amount of brain function you had left while his lips worked their way down your neck, “why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was trying to get to know you, do this right. But I’m so tired of listening to you not get off.” he hissed. “None of those boys knew how to fuck you right. I’m going to help you baby.”

Quiet whimpers left your lips when he began rocking his hips into yours, his hard member grinding against your core. Jimin pulled his lips from your skin and looked into your eyes. You saw his pupils were blown with lust. His usually perfectly styled hair fell into his eyes and he shook it away, breathing just as ragged as your own. 

“Tell me to stop, and I will.” he spoke evenly, thumbs rubbing circles on your hips.

“Please don’t stop.” you whispered, swallowing nervously.

Jimin smiled, his eyes burning with desire as he backed you up towards your room, shoving you down on the bed and crawling until his body hovered over yours. His lips reattaching to your skin had your hips bucking up into his, desperate for any kind of friction. You probably should’ve been embarrassed at how desperate you seemed but you really couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when your wildest fantasies were being played out before your very eyes.

“So impatient.” Jimin tsked, hand sliding up your shirt and under your bra to grasp your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Jimin…” you whined.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” Jimin purred in your ear.

“Touch me.” you begged.

“I am.” he teased, rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers again.

You whined loudly, rolling your hips up to meet his. 

“Nuh uh, use your words.” he encouraged.

“Please, I want you. Your fingers, your cock, anything. I just need you inside me.” you writhed against him.

“Mmm… good girl.” he smirked, making his way down your body and leaving a trail of love bites.

His skilled mouth sucked and nipped at your skin like he was a professional. Jimin instinctively knew how to work your body, how to draw the neediest moans from your pretty lips. Your body was on fire, and he was your gasoline, fueling the blaze the closer he got to where you wanted, where you needed him. His fingers gripped the elastic of your pajama shorts, tugging them off and tossing them aside.

He peppered hot kisses along your panty-covered slit, deciding to tease you rather than give you what you wanted. Jimin wanted you begging for him, needy and desperate.Jimin wanted to get back at you. For all the sleepless nights he lay awake listening to your moans on the other side of the wall, calling to him like a siren. He relieved himself more times than he can count to just your breathy moans and was left wanting more. He intended to drive you to the point of insanity before he let you have your release. He wanted to make sure no one would ever be good enough for you again, you’d only want him. No other man would ever touch you again.

He ran his tongue along the lace of your panties, dampening the already sticky fabric. His barely there touches were making you dizzy and you whimpered, lacing your fingers through his thick, soft hair. Tears were forming at the edges of your vision, so desperate for release you hadn’t found in months, and Jimin’s touches were ghosting along your skin raising goosebumps in their wake but they weren’t enough.

Finally, he pushed your panties aside and his tongue dipped into your heat. You almost cried out in relief when you felt his muscle sliding along your walls and licking designs on your clit. Your back arched off the bed and he used one hand to hold your hips in place while he continued to drive you mad with his skillful tongue. 

He slipped a finger deep in your hole, curling it and hitting your gspot with every flick of his wrist. The way Jimin worked your body put all your Tinder dates to shame. You knew he was a sexpert upon first glance but you didn’t realize he could perform actual magic between your thighs. He added a second finger, then a third, stretching your walls. 

Jimin pumped his fingers in and out of you at the perfect rhythm, alternating the timing of his fingers with the flicks of his tongue on your sensitive bundle of nerves and you could feel yourself climbing towards your end. Your whines got louder, your cries needier. You couldn’t stop yourself from bucking your hips against Jimin’s hold.

“Oh, fu- JIMIN!”

Finally, for the first time in months, the sweet blissful, euphoria consumed your body. Jimin’s ministrations sent you over the edge, your orgasm completely consuming your being. You felt like you were ascending out of your body and soaring into the night sky while Jimin worked you through your release. Jimin did not slow down, even as you began to settle from your high.

You attempted to push him away, feeling overly sensitive from your first orgasm in three months, but Jimin was stronger than you, and soon the burning turned to pleasure again, building back up much quicker than the first, and you wriggled beneath Jimin’s hold on your hips. Mere minutes after your first orgasm, another crashed through you, just as intense as the first. Jimin finally relented, leaving a soft peck on your folds as he pulled away from your trembling body. 

His chin covered in your juices, he grinned at you, moving up to place a kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and somehow that was erotic enough to create another wave of arousal to gush from your over-sensitive cunt. You moaned into Jimin’s kiss, nipping at his swollen lips. 

“Mmm.. your turn.” you smirked, reaching down and palming at his hardened member, but Jimin stopped you.

“No tonight is about you, baby. We have all the time in the world for that later. I just want to be inside you.” he purred into your ear, nibbling at the skin.

You couldn’t exactly argue with that. You reached down to pull his sweats down his thick, delicious thighs and tossed them aside. He lifted your shirt and sports bra off of you effortlessly, licking his lips at the sight of your nipples peaked and ready for attention. His tongue swiped a bold line across one, then the other, forcing shivers from your fucked out body. You quickly tugged at his boxers, simply unable to wait any longer. 

“Need you. Now.” you panted.

Jimin smirked, shimmying out of his boxers and hovering over you.

His length brushed against your folds and both of you groaned. Jimin’s cock was thick, so hard it looked painful, and dribbling precum from his pretty round tip. Jimin froze, looking like he was about to cry.

“I forgot a condom.” he nearly whimpered.

“I’ve got an IUD.” you assured him, running your fingers through his hair to get the sweaty mess out of his eyes.

“Oh thank god.” he breathed in relief, body shuddering. 

Before you could reply, Jimin was entering you, he just couldn’t hold back anymore. He started off slowly, making sure you could handle the stretch and burn. Your breathless moans of his name made it hard for Jimin to keep control, and soon he was pounding ruthlessly into your soaking cunt. Your headboard bounced against the wall but you couldn’t force yourself to care, not when Jimin felt so good buried inside you.

Jimin seemed to reach places within you that no other man had before, like he was made perfectly for you and you perfectly for him. He fit inside you so well, his cock brushing against your walls was driving you insane. You weren’t sure how he hit that lovely spot inside of you every time, but his expert thrusts hit the best angle every time. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight. So wet for me baby.” Jimin grunted as he continued to snap his hips into yours.

“Jimin!” you gasped when his teeth began to nip at your collarbones.

“That’s it baby, say my name… who fucks you this good? Who owns this pussy?” he growled, bringing one hand between your bodies to circle at your clit.

“You, Jimin!” you groaned, body bouncing with the forceful impact of Jimin’s thrusts.

“Louder!” he commanded, his hips snapping harshly while his fingers increased their speed on your nub.

“Fuck, JIMIN!” you screamed. 

“You feel better than I imagined, princess. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to wreck your pretty little pussy? I used to get off with you, you know.” he groaned while his hands found your hair and pulled so your neck was exposed for him to litter hickeys on.

“Oh god.” you moaned at the idea of Jimin alone in his bed, hand wrapped around his cock while he got off to the sound of you getting off to him.

“Mmm… it took everything I had not to come over here and make you cum all over my cock. Your sweet pussy is even tighter and wetter than I’d dreamed. Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me.” his voice shook.

Without warning, Jimin flipped you over onto your stomach and started pounding into you from behind, reaching a whole new angle you didn’t even know existed but had your head spinning. You pushed your hips back against his to meet his every thrust. You were jolted out of your blissful state when his hand came and smacked your ass, sending electricity straight to your core.Your pussy clenched around his length and he let out a strangled groan.

“You like that, huh? Such a dirty girl. How many times did you fuck yourself without me?” he questioned innocently.

“Ummm… I’m not sure.” you confessed. “I haven’t gotten off since you moved in though.” 

“Hmmm.. then how many Tinder dates did you have instead of coming to find me?” he wondered.

“Ummm, 4?” you answered, unsure of why he was asking about your other sexual partners while he was balls deep inside you.

“Mmm… you’ve been a bad girl. You should’ve just come to me. Count.” he ordered, his palm coming down swiftly on your bottom again.

“Ah, one.” you moaned quietly, clenching around him again.

“Mmm.. you like this a little too much.” Jimin chuckled, bringing a harsher slap down on your ass, then soothing the red skin with a gentle brush of his fingers. 

“Two.” you whimpered blissfully. 

Jimin loved the way your skin turned red under his efforts, and he loved the way you tightened around him every time he delivered a spank to the soft skin of your bottom. He admired it for a moment, fingers tenderly grazing over the skin before he unexpectedly left another harsh slap on your skin. 

Your body jolted forward with the impact and you groaned low in your throat at the blissful burning on your backside.

“Three.” left your lips in a whisper as your high drew closer with Jimin’s actions.

His pace didn’t slow down while he “punished” you in the best way, and you were just on the edge of oblivion when he delivered the final slap. You screamed as your high washed over you, even more intense than the first two, and Jimin’s thrusts got sloppier as he met his own end soon after you. He worked you both through your orgasms until you were shaking and tears were falling from the corners of your eyes.  Jimin collapsed next to you, trying to steady his breathing just as you were.

“Are you okay?” he asked between his deep breaths.

“So okay.” you sighed happily, a small giggle rising from your throat. “Ugh, it feels so good to finally cum.”

“Mmm… you’re so sexy when you do.” he grinned, licking his lips suggestively.

You covered your face to hide your blush and he only laughed, crawling off the bed and going to grab a damp washcloth. He returned and knelt between your thighs, running the cloth gently along your folds to clean up the mix of your juices and his cum seeping out of your spent pussy. You whimpered at the overstimulation, and Jimin tossed the cloth into your hamper.

You reached out for him and tugged him back into bed with you, and he wrapped his arms around your frame, holding you against his chest. Your breathing was still labored but feeling Jimin’s body against your own felt more important than oxygen in that moment. He stroked your hair gently with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around you.

“I hope you realize I’m not going to let you go now.” you smiled into his chest. “There’s no way anyone is ever going to top that.”

Jimin laughed, a deep, full belly laugh and pulled you closer into his embrace, kissing the top of your head. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll fuck you whenever you want.” he grinned. “But I really would like to take you on a date sometime.”

“I’d really like that.” you blushed, looking up to meet his eyes.

Jimin bit his lip to try and hide the smile that threatened to spread on his swollen, deliciously red lips. You let yours free though, grinning up at him like a kid on Christmas. Jimin’s resolve broke and his smile spread from ear to ear.

“Where would you want to go?” he asked, idly playing with your fingers.

“Hmmm...  I don’t know. Somewhere lowkey but fun? I want to get to know you better.” you hummed thoughtfully, watching his expression.

“Okay… maybe… the amusement park? Then dinner?” he offered. “Or would you rather go to a movie? Or we could-” he began.

You giggled and pressed your finger to his plush lips.

“It doesn’t matter where we go, as long as you’re there. You’ve got me right where you want me.”

[abizarreyodelingincident]

Our Nightly Confidant 4

War Games

Warriors needs fresh air.

The hand resting in the crook of his elbow is soft, but its grip is threatening to cut off the blood circulation to his hand. The pain has steadily numbed as the ladies exchange thinly veiled insults about this or that province and this or that financial ruin.

He used to like this.

The attention, the admiration, the glory! When did it start to taste like ash in his mouth?

If his queen heard that thought, she'd have another one of her brutal truths for him. 'When war stopped being a game and became a duty.'

When he realized that not even being the Chosen Hero of Courage would shield him from the game. That it made him twice the target every other soldier was. When the bodies of fallen comrades couldn't go past the numb exhaustion that took him every evening.

“Lady Farosh, Lady Ordonas, if you'll excuse me for a second...” he says, flashing them his flashiest smile.

Lady Ordonas brings out her fan to hide her rosy cheeks and agrees with an obvious giggle. Lady Farosh, whose fingernails are on the verge of piercing skin, delays her reply by the barely polite amount of time.

“Oh, Captain Link, you cannot abandon me so swiftly,” she tries, eyes flickering to her father, an esteemed general in discussion with Impa.

“But of course not, only a second to freshen up.”

The instant she releases him, he pulls away and bows. Though, despite his instincts screaming at him, he doesn't run a straight line for the glass doors of the Queen's ballroom. Lady Farosh would take it as an insult. He weaves through conversations, dropping the minimum expected of him here and there, snarks at a Legend that looks ready to murder Lord Lonnayru (and Warriors wishes him to succeed), never touches a drink or bite offered that he did not pick for himself, and eventually reaches freedom.

The cool night air is a balm on his skin as it strokes his hair and face.

Even the small, military tents he's slept in during the campaign didn't feel half as stifling as that ballroom. And some of the tents, he couldn't even stand up inside!

Above, the moon shines its silvery glow down to the garden's fountain. With the ball in full swing inside, no one walks the peaceful path of stone amidst the roses and the arches. Shame. It's a beautiful place. His first stroll there had been a pleasant experience, though not his first conversation with his queen. Impa had chased away the rest of the escort and glared the patrolling guards into submission. Any attempt to bargain had been met with stony silence and a dare to prove themselves worthier of the Queen's protection than her Sheikah general and mentor.

Warriors stops by the hedgerow. If he focuses, he can see the spot where Zelda sat down, where she picked a rose for him, and pinned it on his breastplate.

They had had hopes for the future. Have. He still has hopes. Don't get him wrong. But he's a little more tired than he used to be. Where had the time gone?

'Captain Link, I must introduce you to my daughter.'

Must. Must. Must. Always a 'must', never a 'may'. Duty traps him and the wild beasts know it. They sniffed his blood long ago, and he can only ever bandage the wound so much before it becomes infected.

Traipsing around with the heroes of previous eras is a blessing and a reward that Hylia offered him. A thank you, he feels, and perhaps the beginning of an apology.

“You shouldn't be out there on your own, Captain Link.”

Those are normal words, spoken with careful reverence. Nothing about them should bring his walls up this quickly. But Warriors is no longer accosted by the common soldiers. Hasn't in a long time.

The cracks on his heart spread just a little further. Deeper.

“Someone might try to hurt you, sir.”

The reverence is gone.

And the spear points straight at his chest.

He doesn't have time to bring out his sword.

A snarling mass of fur tackles the traitor, and by the time Warriors can react, the cry of fear stops abruptly. In its stead is a steady gurgle, a fading wheeze. A limb that thuds against the garden grounds.

Warriors doesn't flinch. He's seen worse.

Once his prey has been deemed sufficiently mauled, Wolfie turns to him, muzzle dark with blood, and worry clear in his eyes.

“Good boy,” he says, absentminded, a hand ruffling through the beast's sinfully soft fur.

It's a testament to his companion's state of mind that no warning growl responds to the familiarity. Warriors doubt he would hear it anyway. He's staring at the dead body.

The guard was young. Maybe... Hyrule's age. He must have hated the war, if he'd gone to the front lines. Hell is hardly enough of a description for the dance of bodies and hacked limbs. He had probably lost a brother or a father or a cousin to the fighting, if he was earning his keep in the Queen's castle at that age. Maybe Impa had taken pity on him.

“Simple-minded fools who can't resist basic mind magic,” Warriors repeats, a wobbly chuckle in his voice.

Wolfie noses his hand, and the little shock of cold and wet jolts enough that he can avert his eyes from the traitor. Defeated, the events of the night all playing on loop, he drags himself to a secluded spot by the hedgerow. One from which he can see people coming, with his back to the branches. Wolfie plops down next to him.

“Mind magic. What I wouldn't give for that to be the case,” he confesses to the wolf-like companion. “Hylia. I'd take cowards over this. I'm not asking them to fight my battles for me. Not even fight by me. Just...”

His fingers curl into his scarf. Holds onto the lifeline.

“I just want to be able to turn my back on the people I protect. Is that really so much to ask for?”

Soft fur fills his sight. He ought to resist the urge. An officer must be strong. Cannot let the soldiers down. Fear spreads like wildfire. One spark, and the whole army goes up in flame.

He knows this.

He knows, and he sobs anyway. Farore, please, just for an instant, allow him to be weak.

He buries his face in Wolfie's shoulder, relishes the warmth and protection that comes from the sacred beast. It doesn't matter that some blood splatters might stain his official knight armors. It doesn't matter that for a split second, he doesn't scan his surroundings for exits, potential ambushes and traps. He gives the taut ropes of tension inside him just enough relief.

Until he pulls back.

Sniffs twice, wipes his face once and plasters the charmer smile.

“I'm alright, Wolfie... I'm alright.”

Wolfie doesn't buy it. Makes an inquisitive little whine. A question.

His hand trembles in the fur. “I am. I will be.”

Wolfie turns, quick not to notice one's tears. Strange for a wolf, but he doesn't pounce on their weaknesses. They trust he never will.

Silly as it sounds, there's more than a few noble daughters in that ballroom that could take lessons in civility from Wolfie. At least, in his presence, he doesn't feel like a bloody piece of meat dangling in front of a pack of wolves. Now, that's irony.

“You know... you kind of make me miss Midna.”

Warriors jumped back when Wolfie suddenly straightened, his eyes laser focused.

“Yeah, I know her,” he said, feeling a hint of a real smile. “We have a statue for her in the Temple of Souls. Hell of a woman.”

His hands went to his sword the second his ears picked up a low growling noise, only to realize it had come from Wolfie. Was... was their canine companion protective of the Twilight Princess? Or, Hylia forbid, jealous? Goddess, that was too cute.

“Shh, don't alert the others,” Warriors said, hands held in front of him in mock surrender.

Wolfie, with very Hylian-like intelligence, puts a paw first on his muzzle, then scratches one of his ears. It's a good point. He'd know first.

Warriors relents before Wolfie starts nipping. He remembers Time's mud bath. “She mentioned you too. Called you her favorite pet.”

He hadn't know what disgruntled looked like on a wolf before, but now he had the perfect picture. No wonder Midna had loved to tease him.

“She went into battle with this shadow spell. Wolf-companions.”

Wolfie's interest shifts into disguised wariness. There are hints that he might like to pull back a bit, but Warriors' hand remains firm on the back of the wolf's neck.

“Called her main one Rinku,” he adds, waggling his eyebrows. “Reminds you of something, huh?”

Wolfie blinks. Then blinks some more. He's almost completely frozen, like he has no clue what to make of that information. Or is trying to choose the right way to react. And when he does, Warriors bites down on a burst of laughter.

The puppy eyes. The good boy smile. It's worrying how they almost work.

Almost.

Warriors keeps a sly grin on his face and waits. He's in no hurry to return inside the palace.

It takes another change of beat in the music coming from the ballroom before Wolfie gives, and shadows swallow him.

“Since when?” Twilight says, sighing.

Warriors' smirk is immensely punchable, he's aware. He loves to live dangerously.

“Are you implying that I would deliberately play dumb so that one of my fellow Hero of Courage would act like a dog when he doesn't need to? That I knew from the very beginning and asked Wild to take pictures for posterity? For shame, Twilight.”

A vein twitched under Twilight's jaw. “No, I wasn't implying that. I was saying you're an asshole, Wars!”

Warriors fails to dodge the lunge, half-paralyzed by muffled chuckles. The momentum throws them on the grass, and there's a split second of disorientation before his back hits the ground, and a weight lands on his chest. A heavy weight. Goddesses be good, the farmer lifestyle paid, huh?

“Twilight, move your fat ass.”

The mullish expression on his brother's face would have made a raging moblin sweat. “No. We're still doing this. I have a great track record, and I'm not letting you narcissistic goatfiddler break it by being your usual self. Talk.”

His eyes widen in alarm. “Really? This is the setup? Me, suffocating, and you, thinking of a place to hide my body. What is this, a deathbed confession?”

“You could have had the amazing emotional support of everyone's favorite wolf. But noooo, you're too good for that, so spill. Better be fast, because I had double serving of Wild's chili. Gives me gaz like thunder.”

“You. Wouldn't. Dare.”

The silent glare he receives is all Time.

Warriors squirming renews. “Farmhand, I will skewer you on the Master Sword myself if you don't-”

“Why would you go off on your own like that? We were all in the ballroom. You could have gotten any of us.”

“Let's not reverse the roles here,” Warriors hisses, one eyebrow raised. “I'm not the one playing double-life around our group. You can't talk about trust when you constantly hide in plain sight. You want trust? You tell me why.”

The boyish, almost light air between them breaks. Guilt blooms on Twilight's face. He can't meet Warriors' gaze and doesn't even try.

“... It's Dark Magic.”

“I couldn't care less. I've fought amongst noble fighters with dark magic and against monsters with the opposite. Next.”

Twilight's ears droop slightly. It's dog-like, and amusingly fitting for a moment of hesitation. Every second that passes without a word hammer the fact that 'dark magic' is the surface excuse for Twilight's shifty dealings about their group. Warriors tries not to be angry. Twilight did just save his life with that very secret.

“I've had...” Lips mull the words for a few seconds. “Mixed reactions.”

Warriors feels himself frown. “Mixed how?”

“You know me, the country boy, raised in the small farmer village lost in the woods. Country bumpkins, the lot of us... You ever heard what they think of wolves?”

His breath hitches. Slow dread creeps on him. He hates the ease with which images come to him. He's never seen Twilight's hometown, never met any of his family, but he's suddenly overwhelmed by the idea of a mob of pitchforks and pickaxes held high, of dogs barking through the woods as a grey wolf scampers. Narrowly avoids a bear trap snapping its deadly maw on thin air instead of a limb. Overhears angry grumbling about making a pelt out of his skin.

They should be farmers, but he sees old faces instead. Soldiers. Commanders. Officers. Brothers-in-arms he's long trusted. Thought he could trust.

“W-what do they know about those majestic beasts?” he says, jokingly because he's afraid to let the mask slip an inch. (It'd fall a mile, shatter too hard for him to ever glue back the pieces.)

“My father threatened to skewer me,” comes the quiet admission, less than a whisper.

Warriors' heart squeezes. “Twilight.”

“Didn't know it was me though,” Twilight adds, failing at even a small smile. “To him, I was just this wild animal circling the village right after most of the children had been stolen. He... he only threatened me. Just words. Nothing like what you had to deal with.”

“The words are the worst part for me,” Warriors hears himself say. “I hear them in my nightmares, even if I forget what they tried to do. Couldn't tell you who came at me with a spear, with a sword, with a dagger. But I see their eyes in the mirror, the hate as they died.”

“The fear. The 'Get back, beast!' and the screams.”

“'It's your fault!'” Warriors repeat, the same tone that echoed in his head. “'You should have died instead!'”

Twilight's face twists, and there's a split second when Warriors thinks his heart will give out. Even the shadows of Twili magic can't compare to the darkness that covers the blue of his eyes. But Twilight turns his head to the side and spits in disgust.

It hits the traitor's cooling corpse.

“Bastards,” he says, venom lacing his tongue. “Should have made that last.”

He says, with blood all over his face , Warriors thinks dryly.

It's a sharp contrast, that violence on him. Twilight has always had that air of earnest, straightforward honesty. One look at him and strangers will put their trust in him without hesitation. He lacks the battleworn scars (at least where it's visible), is old enough to be taken seriously and his bumpkin accent breeds familiarity with most commoners they meet. Warriors himself has to deploy all his charms to get the same results, and he's still being glared at by a lot of the men.

They peg him a charmer, and not without reason.

“I don't like it either,” Warriors says, quiet.

“What?” Twilight replies, an eyebrow raised.

“The knight act, you know.” And before Twilight's mouth can drop – “At least, some of it. The game. The doublespeak. The mask. It all feels pointless sometimes.”

“I... really?” Twilight's baffled words hurt, just a little.

Warriors scoffs. “Yes, really. I'm not meant to play knaves and daggers. I'm a soldier. An officer. I'm meant to be out there, defending the kingdom I love. Inspiring the people to fight back against darkness, to stand up for their lives. To be at the front of an army, to lead as one amongst the great... it's incredible. It's what I was born to do, I know it in my bones. The act is necessary. But by the Goddesses do I wish I could live without it.”

He sees the way his meaning worms itself past Twilight's gaze, understanding dawning on him. “No matter where one goes, huh?” Sheepish ruffle of his own hair. “Is it something in the water?”

“Like they'd lower themselves to drinking water,” Warriors sneers, a smirk hidden underneath. “Wine only, my good sir. And only the finest year, from the finest yard. Vintage, my good peasant, it's all the vintage that shows breeding.”

“They do know that for everyone else, breeding is something you check for your horses and your dogs, right?”

“I... couldn't tell. I've stopped listening a while ago. I just nod and play my handsome part. It is the only use for a Hero once the King of Evil has been defeated, it looks like. I don't know if I even should call myself a knight anymore.”

“Wild was touched, y'know?” Twilight says, looking up to the moon. “When you called him an honorable knight,” he adds with a sigh. “He's always associated his life before the Calamity to knighthood, to that incredible soldier that had trained for a decade before facing his destiny. Someone whose shadow he chased for months, not realizing it's his own. You might have been the first to call his current self a knight.”

“He is!” Warriors near jumps to his feet. “Wild may be unorthodox, but he is a loyal, devoted man that served Hyrule to the best of his ability despite having lost everything but his life to the cause. Most generals in my army could not even measure up to his standard.”

“Should have seen the look in his eyes when I mentioned it.” There's a hint of sadness beyond the pride and joy of this memory.

He hates the curdling feeling that brings forth. “Remind me to knock a couple of heads together next time we visit his Hyrule, would you?”

Twilight's chuckle is fond, gentle. “Yeah, that's what I meant. I never thought to tell him in those words. To me, he was always good enough. But you saw that side of him too. You know what it's like to want it. I can't relate that well to this, but... well, anyone under your command has to look up to a guy like you.”

Hands ball into fists. Eyes drift to the corpse. “Not everyone does. Obviously.”

Twilight bumps shoulders with him. “I'm sorry, pretty boy. I'm sorry these assholes think they have any right to blame you. To resent you. You're an amazing leader. Much better than me. I... I honestly admire you and your skill.”

Warmth settles in his stomach. He can't... For a second, he needs to blink away tears.

“So he admits it.”

There's a wry, wolfish quality to Twilight's grin. “You speak a word of it, and you'll meet an unfortunate fate, Captain.”

“As if anyone but my Queen could make me fall in battle,” he laughs, pushing Twilight's shoulder, hard.

“Careful there.” His brother's grin sharpens, and the returning shove almost sends Warriors crashing into a bush. “You might touch my cursed stone, and then you'd be stuck as your true self. What would your queen think if she saw a plague-ridden rat try to command her armies?”

Laughter bubbles in his chest. “Be happy to send the rat to infect the goat-loving hillbillies before they spread out of their mudholes! Imagine the half-goat, half-hylians that would invade Hyrule!”

Twilight's gauntlets fall to the ground. Knuckles are cracked. “A'right. Someone needs an asswhooping.”

He could not stop smirking if the Goddesses ordered him to. “Bring it, dog-boy. I'll put a collar on you.”

Taunts, past this point, become superfluous. The breath they would waste could be better utilized trying not to die (lose) against this moblin (his brother) and his freakish strength (no, really, he pushes giant metal crates on ice, the goron-born idiot). The honor of Hyrule rests on his victory.

At some point, they roll over in the fountain.

This does not, in fact, stop their roughhousing.

                                                    ***

 “Should I ask why you both have black eyes and split lips when no one noticed any monster for miles?” Time wonders at his seconds-in-command. “While we were attending a ball?”

“No,” they growl with a ferocity to chill bones.

“Not fair!” Wind protests, to the nodding of most. “Why did they get to have all the fun?”

Ah, youth.

[lenacker]

To Raise an Eaglet

Kuchel and Levi’s life in my Meet The Ackermans Modern! Rivetra AU

This is my longest work yet, Word count : 2654 words

"So you're not coming here for Christmas?" Kuchel holds her phone to her ear with her shoulder, while cutting the vegetables on the cutting board. She was preparing some special stew from her beloved son’s cute, little family.

"No, I’m working on a very important case, Mom. I.."

"Wait, wait," Kuchel wiped her hands to her apron, re-do her ponytail, and now holding her phone with her hand, meanwhile the other was on her hips. "don't say you're not even coming home to Petra for Christmas Eve? For fuck's sake Lev, that's intolerable! That’s your very own birthday! Don't put your work before your family! If they're gone then who are you working for?! What's the use of money when you have no one to spend it with? Seriously, I don't remember raising a man that's ........" 

Levi took a deep breath, putting his phone on the desk while his mom kept rambling here and there. He loves her so much, but she always talks too much for her own good. Sometimes he even wondered how they share the same genes with the difference between their amount of words they can say in one breath.

When he put the phone back to his ear, he didn't hear the nag of his mother. Instead, the woman he heard since he remembered sounds like she's on the verge of tears.

"..... but I guess it can't be helped, huh? It's okay then, it doesn't like I've prepared anything, anyway. Say hi to Petra and the boys for me."

Kuchel sighed, pushing herself with her hands against the countertop, and looked to the ceiling to prevent her tears from falling. Why is she crying, anyway? It's not going to be her first alone Christmas! She spent plenty of them alone, trembling from the cold (and starvation if there are not enough customers in the brothel). 

Until one Christmas when she’s 20, she got a great gift she never even dared to imagine, a beautiful, little bundle of joy she named Levi. He came with such unbearable pain, blood, and tears but the moment she heard him scream and laid her eyes on him, no, even from the first time she felt her baby's move, she knows she wouldn't be alone anymore. 

I'm gonna protect you, she whispered while cradling Levi's tiny head against her chest, tears streaming from her tired eyes, We’ll live a better life together.

Life felt less ugly for a while. She had to hide her baby whenever a customer came, but it gets less lonely with a cute baby looking at you with such wonderful blue eyes. She hopes he doesn't grow up so he won't understand what kind of world they live in.

But of course, he grows. And in the process, Kuchel saw how unfit the environment they're in for a child's development. She saw how Levi started to laugh less, his skin pale and almost translucent. He stopped saying 'I love you' back when he's around four, instead, he would just hug her silently. He stopped moving when he had to hide from her customers in the tiny cupboard, not moving an inch. Not making any sound. It made her worried sick, she couldn't see if he's ok from the bed. Can he breathe properly? Is it normal for a 4 years old boy to stay still for hours?

At the age of six, he looks like a very malnourished four years old vampire-boy. His voice became raspy, his eyes darken, his cheeks sunken. In their city, it's difficult enough to find decent food when you have money, it's even harder when you don't. Sometimes he would give her some crumpled money he somehow finds, tells her to keep it to buy a new house so no scary men come to hurt mommy. That's also the year when she realized she has the disease that has been spreading around. Of fucking course. The disease takes over her entirely. In just a month, she can't even get up from her bed, her body feels like it's on fire. 

And the worst thing, she can't work nor provide food for little Levi. But he never asks for it either. He stayed with her on the bed, caressing her face with his bony hand. Around midday, he would get up, go for an hour or so, and come back with some half-decent food and bruises. Her heart ached every time he put the food inside her mouth, whispering 'please get better, mommy' with his raspy voice. 

She hoped she could ask him where he got the food and the bruises, tell him there's no way she could get better without any treatment, or simply say thank you because she's the one who was supposed to find food, but she couldn't force any sound out of her throat. Sometimes she sheds some tears, which Levi always reacts with a sad 'sorry mommy, I can't find better food'. It hurts even more. Sometimes she wondered if keeping him and bringing him to this cruel world is a mistake. Or if she's being selfish to want a friend in her lonely life.

Then she decided to give up. She kept her eyes shut, feeling how her body struggled to keep her alive. She let the darkness consume her.

-

But she didn't die. She didn't know how much time was passed but when she started to gain consciousness she heard the beeping sound beside her. 

Where am I? Her body does not hurt as much. She opened her eyes and was welcomed with Levi's beautiful blue-grey eyes right in front of her own.

"Levi?"

Wait, did she just talk? Did she really make a clear, understandable word? Well, that’s the first.

She observed her baby's face and noticed how he looks .....more like a normal child. She raised her hand to touch his surprisingly slight chubby cheeks, but he's faster. He moved down to hug -more like crushes, actually- her. He buried his face to her cheeks, mumbling long incoherent words to her cheeks. She felt how her cheeks moisten by his warm tears, how his body trembled, and wondered how she even thought of leaving this precious boy. 

"There's Kenny," Levi said once he calmed down, "he brought Mommy here and taught me to fight" then he proudly showed her some of the moves she recognized as Kenny's with a paring knife.

Kenny was a weird one, he always was. He's her only brother, but he never acted like one nor was there for her. He went to jail for killing some folks when she’s about ten. The last time she saw him was when she's pregnant, and he told him to abort her pregnancy. Of course, she refused, so he left without saying anything. 

"What did you do with Kenny, baby?" Did he teach you anything bad? killing people? He's a little bit psycho. Much to her relief, they just have some knife and martial arts training, then eat whatever food Levi wanted. Well at least her brother gave him food and brought her to the hospital. At least he keeps Levi alive even though he never approves of his presence.

A few weeks later, she's allowed to leave the hospital. She has been unconscious for three months, apparently. Kenny came, he took care of the administration and payment, drove them to a simple-clean apartment, left some money then left without any unnecessary words. They have never been a normal sibling with a heartfelt relationship but still, Kuchel hoped he would say something, where does he live now, why did he come, does he have any wife and kids, anything. 

And so, their brand new life began. In the morning Kuchel would bake some simple cookies, walk Levi to school while giving her cookies to shops along the street then she went to a supermarket near their home, where she worked as a part-time cashier. Then when her shift has finished, she picks her son home and takes her money from the shops. 

Years passed, their life gets better every day. Levi had poor social skills, but he managed to befriend two nice, orphan kids; Farlan and Isabel. Like everything he loves (Kuchel herself, a hand knife he got from Kenny, multi-functional stain remover, etc.) he was a bit overprotective. She had to meet the headmaster more than three times during Levi's first two months because her son 'created a commotion' when the only thing he did was protect his friends' dignity with his fists. She didn't think it's bad. Kuchel always knows Levi is such a kind and sweet boy, he just prefers to show his crude side (from Kenny or their previous place, she's not sure). So instead of telling him to stop fighting bullies, she told him words can hurt more than any blow. And it turned out surprisingly well, he never 'created trouble' again. (Saying hurting words is not considered trouble, how weird).

In the blink of an eye, Levi became a handsome man wearing an immaculate suit, kissing Kuchel's cheek before leaving to go to his office for the umpteenth time. 

"Don't forget to find me a daughter-in-law," she said teasingly, handing him lunch. Her son pretended to look disgusted, then smiled softly "I don't think I can find someone as pretty and amazing as you, Mom. See you!" 

Ever since he turned 30, she kept reminding him that 29 is the average marriage age for a male and he would answer with the answer he just gave her this morning, or "Nobody would want to marry a grumpy, constipated looking man, Mom" or, "I will once I find the right one". 

Kuchel knew her son was admired by many (he always bring home at least two bags of chocolates on Valentine's Day), he's good-looking (not that tall due to the malnutrition in his early years, but still, even the old lady next-door had mentioned that he's hot). His salary as a detective at the Criminal Investigation Department is high enough to afford both of them that he forced her to quit working and enjoy life. But she's as stubborn as he is, so she sneakily still bakes some cookies and sells them to a bakery far enough from his office. 

About two hours later, right as her oven timer rings, the front door of their apartment opened, revealing a furious Levi. He only wears his shirt and trousers, the suit he initially wears this morning in his hands. Thankfully he didn't notice the freshly baked cookies because he’s too busy muttering curses angrily, something about an airheaded, bitchy woman. 

Woman? Well, that’s interesting. Kuchel couldn’t recall when’s the last time her son mentioned anything about women (never). Aside from Isabel and Hange 'shitty-four eyes’, that is. She raised one of her eyebrows, wondering if this could be the beginning of the hater-into-lover relationship she often watches at Korean dramas. 

“Oh, you’re home early. Something happened?” she asked as neutral as possible despite her giddiness, leaning against the doorframe of Levi’s bedroom. He was buttoning his white shirt, annoyance still clear on his face. However, he forced a grin. 

“Nothing, Mom. Just a friend of Hange’s. She smeared some cake cream on my suit. Don’t know what she’s thinking.” Kuchel nodded understandingly, what a daring girl to do that.

“Is she pretty?” She asked once more, already imagining a scheme upon how they would fall madly in love. 

Her son looks surprised, or somehow like someone who just remembers he forgot something important. He took his tie and walked to her, letting his mother tie it around his collar. (She secretly appreciates how he let her do it, despite knowing how to do it himself. It makes her feel needed) While she ties the red garment, Levi looks intensely to her eyes and mumbles, “ShehasbigeyeswiththesamecolorasyousoIguess.…”

Throughout the years, Kuchel noticed that despite being sweet and kind (to her, at least), her son has difficulties showing feelings he deemed ‘bad’ or maybe ‘weird’. He usually mumbles lengthy sentences that she learned to interpret. Like that time when one of her customers hurt her, 4 years old Levi tried to wash the blood and mumbles how he wanna be stronger and hurt the man back, and how he loves his mother. Or when she woke up in the hospital. Or when everybody in his class praises him for shaving his head when one of his classmates had cancer. Or every time he presented her with a bunch of flowers on Mother's Day. That habit is still there, evidently. 

She simply smiled, deciding to not tease him any further. She patted his chest, telling him to go back to his office, and let the topic go. 

But apparently, the Hange’s airheaded friend story doesn’t stop there.

About a month later, Levi went to watch a musical titled Hamilton with Hange. He always likes musical shows, mainly for the elaborate choreography. She didn’t expect her son to get home so late, and grumpier than ever. She asked him why, but he dismissed her. She didn’t need to wonder for long, because Hange called her (it’s not even a rare occurrence, they’re so close that they often call her randomly in the middle of the night). 

"I tried to set him with my roommate," they said, "Petra is a very sweet girl, not to mention that she's clean and pretty short. She's pretty much perfect for him. I tried to push them into the stuck-in-the-elevator scenario, but I guess Levi ended up saying the wrong thing that Petra smeared her cake -that I ordered- to him. Of course, I didn’t just give up. So, I ordered two Hamilton tickets -it was soo expensive and hard to find!- anyway, I gave one to Levi and another to Petra, and pretend that I'm the one who'll go with them" They talked in a very Hange way, fast and passionate. They sounded really proud of their plan.  “Do you want to meet her too? I bet you two will connect instantly, Imma send you her bakery’s location, how’s that?”

So, the next day Kuchel visited Petra’s bakery and immediately fell in love. She’s like….a sun personified. Like, even her entire appearance was so bright and fun. Her hair was shoulder-length wavy hair, the root was strawberry blonde and it got lighter that the tip was light blonde. Her eyes are big, round, sparkling light brown eyes, and freckles peppered her cute face. She wore an ankle-length light yellow sundress with small blue flower patterns that complement her pale skin perfectly. She talked with a lot of hand motions, and she slips her hair behind her right ears every once in a while.

Yes, this one’s definitely perfect for her Levi.

-

December 22, 5 days after that (surprisingly) emotional phone call. Kuchel woke up to the loud sound of her doorbell. Seriously, the shameless guest was ringing the bell like some kind of madman in the middle of the night. Wait, what if that's a real madman? 

Ah, screw that, she thought sleepily, whoever that is they definitely need to be taught some lesson. She got off her bed, picked a frying pan from the kitchen, and then opened her door.

It's not a shameless nor mad man. 

In front of her door, Leo was sitting on Levi's shoulders while still ringing the bell vigorously with a big grin. Beside him, Petra was fixing her hold to Liam, while the ginger-haired toddler calmly eats his lollipop.

"Gran-Gran!" Leo greeted (gosh, that boy has too much energy for his own good), while his little brother just waved his hand that wasn't holding the lolly. 

Kuchel put down her frying pan, "Hey, guys! Come in!" 

She moved to the side, letting the little family inside. Leo immediately ran off to his favorite playing spot, the cabinet under the stairs. His brother tottered sleepily behind him.  

“So…...what happened to the case?���, she asked with as much sarcasm as possible, while locking the front door again, “Finally realizing your family’s more important than some ruthless murderer?”

A/N : I love Hamilton.