#i don’t think reckless is doing the same thing powerless and powerful did to me

[ilyascrownprince]

( . . . )

[lady-october]

Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Previous Chapters : Available on Ao3 & Tumblr

Story Content : Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Rough sex, Sadism/Masochism, Dom/Sub, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Orgasm denial, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 27: You monsters are people

Chapter title is lyrics from “Obey” 

This chapter is from Oli’s perspective. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I can’t believe she stayed. 

As soon as the words had left my mouth, I’d regretted it. But being inside her, being surrounded by her scent, her legs wrapped around me, her large blue eyes set in that flushed, soft face, how was I supposed to keep the words to myself? 

How was I expected to not express my love for such a perfect sight? 

I’d been working overtime for days to keep from telling her I love her, knowing it was too soon, especially for someone like Alice.  

And then I’d gone and told her twice within the span of a couple of hours. 

I let my hands rake over my face as I shook my head under the shower head, the warm water cascading around my vision, turning the tiles wavy. 

I’m so fed up with myself. 

Regardless of my self-indulgent recklessness last night, she’d still stayed, faced her demons, and let me know she’s trying. 

And now it was my turn to return the favour. 

But how was I supposed to deal with my current problems, when dead and buried demons were suddenly crawling out of their overgrown graves, reminding me that maybe they hadn’t been properly dealt with in the first place? 

I thought I’d shed the shackles Fay had put around my ankles at this point, but in so many ways I’m still the same person I was a year ago when I read her texts. I still crave the validation, the attention she offers me so readily. So greedily. 

I’m not completely daft though, I know she’s just manipulating me, just like she’s always manipulated me. Controlling me in ways I feel powerless against. The difference is that I didn’t use to care. In fact, I welcomed it, because I wanted to spend every moment with her regardless of her intentions.  

It only became a problem when we were no longer on the same page. 

I also knew why she was the way she was, which made it even harder to judge her for it. 

You see, I may have always been drawn to troubled women, but Fay’s the most troubled of them all. 

By a long shot. 

She may not be suicidal in the typical sense, but she lives her life like there’s no tomorrow, continuously reckless in ways that usually guarantees becoming worm food prematurely. 

You’d think most of her wild traits could be chalked up to growing up with her addict mum, who were either not home for days on end, or blacked out on the sofa when she was. Or maybe even by the fact that she croaked from an overdose when Fay was barely a teen. 

But personally, I think most of it could be explained by being left in the care of her extremely abusive stepfather once her mum was out of the picture. 

About two years ago when it was still Mat and Fay, we’d all gone to stay in Birmingham to hunker down and spend a full week focused on writing and recording a new EP.  

This also happens to be the week me and Fay fell in love.  

Every night was sleepless, which wasn’t uncommon for me, but it turned out Fay also had her slumber related problems. This meant we’d spend hours every night together, oversharing, getting to know each other on an inappropriately personal level considering her relationship status with my best mate. 

I wasn’t used to opening up to people, but the very first night Fay had told me about her childhood, and it all just spiralled from there. Naturally – and because I’m a fucking mess – I was immediately enthralled by this seemingly mythical being, so fun, yet terrifyingly disturbed. 

What was so shocking about her was how casually she talked about her life, like it was the most normal thing in the world.  

Which, to be fair, to her it was.  

My earliest taste of this came on the second night of the trip.  We’d been talking about our mutual love for animals, when she interjected with a long list of stray pets she’d rescued off the streets and hid from her stepdad.  

Only to follow it up with how she kept coming home to them having their necks broken once he’d found them.  

I’d been horrified, wondering how that would’ve affected her – how it still must affect her, when without skipping a beat, she’d move on with the conversation, going on a passionate tangent about climate change out of nowhere. 

It was bizarre, it was refreshing – it was alarming and worrisome. But in some weird way it was also strangely comforting, knowing that even though she was deeply traumatised, and clearly unhealed, she still had a zest for life.  

Albeit maybe a bit too much zest.  

The last night of the trip was the most memorable to me. 

She’d been laying on the balcony table for about an hour, staring up into the night sky as it slowly shifted and changed to brighter colours. I’d been distracted by the silk robe she’d worn, and how her long, bright red hair was hanging over the edge of the table, halfway to the concrete floor. She was reminiscing about a hike she’d gone on with a group of friends, when she broke out into the most delightful laughter, smiling from ear to ear before rolling over to finally face me. It was like I was staring into the eyes of a deity, some ancient goddess, when she reached out to trace one of the skull-motifs inked into the skin of my arm. 

“I have something so similar to this one,” She’d started, her fingers still playing on my skin, the innocent touch feeling so charged, so forbidden in the deep hours of the night, it threatened goosebumps to form as I fought off the urge to stare straight down her cleavage, “I’d show you, but I don’t think Mat would be too happy about it.” 

While she wasn’t as covered in tattoos as me, she wasn’t too far off. And from her implication that the placement of the art piece in question was somewhere I shouldn’t be looking, I could immediately imagine it on her inner thigh, considering I may have caught a glimpse of the bottom of it earlier tonight. 

Which in turn had me imagine more things that caused blood to flow in places they shouldn’t be as I inevitably allowed my eyes to fall to her chest, so poorly covered by her robe. 

But through the fog of dirty thoughts and fought off impulses, I realised she was trying to seduce me, which forced me to take a step back and analyse what’s been going on the past week.  

And that maybe we’d both been trying to seduce each other. 

“Think it’s time to sleep.” I muttered before getting to my feet, knowing I was in deep, deep shit. 

“Stay,” she breathed, taking hold of the arm she’d been tracing, “It’s our last night here, and you haven’t told me about your addiction yet.” 

I was confused, as I’d already shared how it all started, and about my time in rehab. As far as I was aware, I’d told her everything there was to know about my addiction. 

“What are you on about, of course I have.” I countered, thrown off once again by the continuous sudden change of topics and moods that Fay seemed to come pre-programmed with.  

She let go of my arm, sitting up, and allowed her legs to dangle over the edge of the table before she spoke, “You’ve told me nothing I can’t read online,” She scanned my face with her dark eyes, such a deep brown they were pitch black in most lights, “What’s so terrible about you that you don’t want to be yourself?” 

I wanted to tell her I wasn’t there mentally anymore, that I was better now – happy and recovered.  

But I knew I’d be lying.  

Addiction is like weeds; you can clear them as thoroughly as you want, but if you don’t tend to them regularly, your whole garden will be overgrown before you know it. 

And I was a master of pretending everything was fucking dandy when they weren’t. 

“You sure you want to talk about that?” I asked, thinking of her mother’s history with drugs. 

She let out a laugh I’d heard her do several times before – mostly when discussing a sensitive subject. It was slightly manic, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “Why, because my deadbeat mom overdosed? Oh please. Just tell me, Oliver.” 

I hated it when she called me by my full name, and she knew I hated it from the moment we were introduced. 

Yet she didn’t stop until months into our relationship, claiming that Oli was a stupid British nickname, and since she’s American she was very adamant about rejecting the shortened version of my given name. 

Despite my better judgement, I sat back down, not wanting our week to end on a bad note. 

Even though I knew we’d have to stop hanging out alone after tonight, no matter how sad that thought made me. 

Especially because of how sad that thought made me. 

“It’s not that I think I’m terrible, necessarily. But it’s like my emotions are always dialled up to max, and there’s no shutting them off.” 

She grimaced at my response, “I feel a lot too, but that’s a great thing, and I would never want to turn them off. They’re what makes me feel alive; I cry, I scream, I laugh, I love, I fuck – and I feel better for it.” 

She forgot to mention that she plays Russian roulette with her life every so often by being an adrenaline junkie in the worst of ways. 

And no, I hadn’t overlooked how she put emphasis on the word fuck. Or the way it had me imagine her dark eyes looking up at me as her full lips closed around my shaft. 

“I wish it was that simple for me, love.” I responded under my breath. 

“Why can’t it be that simple?” 

“Because I’m a bomb.” 

There was a short pause as she considered my words, “Explain.” 

I got more comfortable in my seat again, preparing to unpack such a deep part of myself, unsure whether it was the early morning hours that made me comfortable enough to do so, or whether there was just something special about Fay. 

I took a deep breath, “If I let my feelings run amuck, I’d probably burst wide open. I’d get so fucking furious with the state of the world, or with how little anyone seems to give a shit, that I couldn’t think straight. On the other side of that, if I let myself love to my full potential,” I shook my head, “That’s a terrifying thought to be honest with you, cause I don’t know how far I’d take that. Pretty sure I’d completely lose myself, and drive anyone on the receiving end of it fucking mad in the process.” 

As I spoke Fay’s eyes burrowed into me, lighting up with the passion of a thousand suns.  

I’d later found out that it had been those words that made her fall in love with me, that she’d been searching high and low for a man that loved with as much intensity as she does, and after that night she was determined to become mine. 

I had to look away from her deep stare in order to finish making my point, “But when I get high, my feelings shut off, and for a while I’m free of all that. I get to just exist, without being exhausted from keeping myself restrained all the time.” 

“You’re talking about yourself like you’re some kind of monster that needs to be put down.” 

“Not put down, but I don’t think I should be let off my leash.” 

“Unless you’re talking about some kind of kinky play, I disagree.” 

I laughed. 

“You should try it. Next time you want to get high cause you hate your feelings so much, just let them do their thing.” She leaned forward, giving me a better view of her cleavage as her demeanour shifted; it was a very subtle shift, but it was more than enough to highlight the already undeniable sexual tension between us, “And whatever urges you get, give in to them. It might not be as bad as you think.” 

In a desperate attempt to keep my mind out of the gutter, and to prevent myself from pulling her into my lap right this moment, I conjured up images of my parents. 

And thankfully, it worked quickly, and well enough to keep myself in check. 

“Don’t think that’s a good idea, love.” My voice had dropped several octaves, giving away that I’d been considering doing what she was very clearly suggesting. 

A seductive smile bloomed on her lips, “Why?” 

“Because I have enough regrets as it is. I’ve no plans to add to my list of things that keep me up at night.” 

The look she gave me was that of a child who had their favourite toy taken away from them. 

As I got out of the chair to head to bed – alone – I couldn’t help but wonder what had Fay as sleepless as myself.  

Or how much regret she was repressing from living her life the way she did. 

But one thing I knew for sure was that she’d been hurt – badly. And hurt people who haven’t dealt with their pain, very easily hurt others. 

While I didn’t give in to my urges that night, once me and Fay did become a couple, I would quickly discover the full range of ways she’d inflict pain on me. 

It started with harmless manipulations to get her way in minor arguments, which was easy enough to overlook, especially when you’re falling head over heels for someone. 

Which I definitely was. 

Considering how hard and fast I was falling, it didn’t take much convincing for me to do as she’d suggested that night on the balcony. So, I gave in, submitting to my feelings in a way I hadn’t quite done before when it comes to love. 

It was so liberating, so wonderful, to just let myself worship her; to tell her I love her a million times a day without judgement, to have it so readily reciprocated, and allow myself to request as much of her time and attention as I craved. 

I was so convinced that she was the best thing that had ever happened to me, that of course I didn’t bat an eye when I noticed the small white lies. Surely she only lied to protect me, because she loves me so much. 

But the small lies grew bigger, the innocent manipulations turned sinister, and about 10 months into the relationship she’d almost always choose revenge over peace whenever we’d argue. She’d do things like ramp up her thrill-seeking behaviour to get me worried for her safety, or intentionally make me jealous – which, I am not proud of having done to Alice. 

But there’s a reason they call it the cycle of abuse. 

And now I’m the hurt person who apparently hasn’t dealt with their pain, hurting others in the process. 

Turning off the shower I wrapped a towel around myself before stepping in front of the fogged-up mirror over the hotel sink, giving it a wipe to take a good, hard look at myself. 

The eyes looking back at me were bloodshot, accompanied by dark circles and a scowl.  

While I’d fallen asleep fairly quickly last night, I’d been jarred awake by the usual nightmares so early it was still dark out, and I’d spent the hours since pondering what to do next. 

And while there were several pressing matters, all roads seemed to lead back to Alice. 

Do I tell her the truth about everything, or do I share the watered-down version I’d planned to relay last night before we got interrupted? 

I exhaled a shaky breath as the man in the mirror’s features turned increasingly panicked. 

Alice wasn’t wrong; you really are a fucking coward. 

Suddenly a loud bang could be heard from outside the bathroom, and I quickly realised it was the sound of the hotel room door slamming shut. 

Almost as if someone had stormed out of here. 

I launched for the bathroom door, ripping it open only to be met with an empty room. 

In the middle of the floor, I could see my phone lying face down, moved from its original position on the bedside table. 

Fuck. 

Dread washed over me, knowing what Alice must have seen on my phone to make her dash out of here in such a rush – the same thing I’d seen every time I’d looked at it since I’d accidentally messaged Fay. 

I wasted no time, collecting my phone and dashed towards Alice’s room, only for the shortest of moments registering that I’m soaking, and just clad in a towel around my waist. 

“Alice!” I yelled after several vigorous knocks on the door, “Let me in, it’s not what you think!” 

I threw a quick glance at my screen to see what Alice might have read. 

“Fay: I can’t wait to see you.” 

“Shit.” I breathed through clenched teeth. 

“Alice!” I yelled louder as more panic set in, knocking the door so hard it rattled. 

Realising she might’ve not even gone to her room, I pressed my ear to the solid wood to listen for any sounds inside, only to almost fall face first into the room when the door suddenly flew open. But instead of falling I was shoved by a furious Liam, who had sent me stumbling backwards, nearly hitting the wall on the opposite side of the hotel corridor from the force he’d used. 

He was clearly a fair bit stronger than he looks. 

“I don’t know what the fuck you did to that poor woman, but there’s not a chance I’m letting you see her.” 

“She thinks I’m chattin’ up another bird – I’m not!” I raised my voice, hoping Alice would hear as Liam had left the door ever so slightly ajar behind him. 

“Whatever.” He muttered, rolling his eyes, clearly not giving a rat’s arse about the specifics of the drama he’d been forced to take part in, before giving me a once over, “I need to go back in there. Get dressed, there’s kids staying here for fuck’s sake.” 

The door shut, and locked, with both Liam and Alice behind it. 

And I’d never felt so helpless. 

I took another step back and let myself lean against the wall I’d nearly slammed into moments ago, sliding down it as I tried to keep my heart from breaking entirely. 

My eyes were so full of tears that it took me a second to realise there was a pair of shoes in my peripheral vision. I looked up to see Mat standing next to me, pity painted all over his face.  

I hadn’t heard any other doors open or shut, which meant he must have been in the corridor for the entire interaction. 

“Would you like a hand?” He asked, sounding sombre. 

I took his stretched-out hand and pulled myself up on unsteady feet, “Did you catch all that?” 

“Yeah. Wanna talk?” 

I wiped the tears away while attempting to keep the towel around my waist from falling to the floor.  

I was torn, because I knew Mat had asked me with the intention of being there for me. 

But it wasn’t just Alice I needed to have a serious discussion with. And I doubted he would want to console me after I come clean to him about everything. 

“Yeah.” I responded after I’d made my decision. 

We walked to my room where we once again took a seat on the floor, leaning against the bed. Only this time it was the bed me and Alice had just spent the night in, made abundantly obvious by her pile of clothes on the floor, next to the bag which she’d left during her swift escape. 

I watched as droplets fell from my soaking hair and hit the carpet as we sat in silence for a while, probably to let me collect myself. The cheery, sun-lit room a stark contrast from my dark and hopeless emotions, which seemed so impossible to fight. 

But I had to start somewhere. 

“I almost got high last night.” I said, breaking the silence. 

I threw a quick glance at Mat; he looked hurt. 

I couldn’t blame him. 

“I almost got high when we were in London too, sent an old dealer a message and everything.”  

The problem with saying things out loud is that they immediately become all too real.  

But since I was walking a dangerously fine line considering I didn’t know if things would work out between me and Alice, I needed it to become real. 

And I needed it to become real right now. 

I looked over at my trousers laying on top of my luggage. 

“I got some,” I started, whispered, the words feeling like acid pushing up my throat, knowing that as soon as I’d let them leave my lips, I wouldn’t have the option of going numb anymore. I inclined my head towards my belongings, “Last night at the club. It’s in my pocket.” 

I’d been staring at the seemingly harmless article of clothing all morning before going for a shower, being so incredibly tempted by it, only able to talk myself out of it because she stayed. 

Which I realise is extremely problematic. 

Mat sighed deeply, leaning forward to rake his hands through his hair. 

“I’m sorry man. I know we said I’d come to you if I ever got the urge to use again.” 

He looked so disappointed, and I hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet. 

“I had some suspicions you weren’t doing great, but I had no clue you were on this thin ice. I just thought I’d give you a chance to come talk to me when you were ready.” He released a nervous laugh, “Actually I thought that maybe you were doing better the past week or so. You’ve been a bit off, sure, but you’ve also seemed quite happy a lot of the time.” 

I hadn’t expected such a peaceful response after my admission. In fact, I’d suspected him to tear me a new one. 

But then again, I wasn’t done talking yet. 

“Mat, I’m a lying piece of shit, and I have no excuses.” 

“I’m just happy you’re talking to me before you did something, this way—” 

“I’ve been hooking up with Alice since London.” I interrupted, the disbelief on his features adding to my ever-growing mountain of self-hatred, but I knew I needed to continue speaking, to rip the band aid off once and for all. My mouth hung open for a beat, suspended, as I gathered the courage to tell him how I feel, “I’m in love with her.” 

Mats’ features grew cold as he processed what I was saying, readjusting his position on the floor. 

“Why’d you let me look like a twat, thinking I had a shot with her?” He asked, an anger lacing his words. 

I watched more drops fall from my hair as I hung my head low, “I wish I could say it’s cause she wanted to keep it a secret, and sure that’s how it started, but she understood why I needed to be honest with you lot, considering our past.” I took a deep breath and forced myself to face him again, “The long and short of it is that I wanted to see if I could trust her – see if she’d run off to you instead.” 

He watched me under furrowed brows, “So, you were using me.” 

“Yeah.” I confirmed, feeling like a useless wet fucking rat. 

Mat let out a long exhale as he leaned back into the mattress behind us, “You remember that week in Birmingham, when we were recording about two years ago?” 

I tensed, remembering it as the week I wanted to steal his girlfriend, “Of course.” 

He sucked on his teeth, contemplating, “I didn’t sleep much that week. I would sit with the window cracked and listen to you and Fay talk for hours.” I was surprised, not just by what he was saying, but by how guilty he looked as he told me, “The whole week was hell, but I needed to know if I could count on her. Turns out I couldn’t.” 

Apparently, it wasn’t just me who was riddled with trust issues after all our overlapping romances. 

“How come you never told me?” 

Mat shrugged, “I don’t know, bit embarrassing, I guess.” There was another short pause as more guilt made an appearance on him, “Also, I didn’t just want to see if I could count on Fay, but you as well.” 

I could see why, especially with how much lying I’d done over the years. 

“Well, how did I do?” I asked awkwardly. 

“Better than me.” He said with a bitter smile, clearly referring to the fact that he’d slept with Fay when I was technically still with her. 

Appearing as if he remembered something, his features grew worried, “I never slept with Alice, but you should know there was stuff going on.” 

I sighed deeply, “I know.” 

The look he gave me was filled with confusion, “And you’re alright with that?” 

All I could do was shrug, “We’re not a couple. And at this rate I’m not sure we’ll ever be.” I said, knowing there was a real chance I’d scared her off for good this time. 

He opened his mouth, probably to say something hopeful and kind that would only serve to make me feel worse, so I hurried to speak before he got a chance to. 

“There’s one more thing.” I could see him bracing himself mentally for whatever I was about to say, but I knew he’d never expect this to come out of my mouth, “I’ve been talking to Fay.” 

“Fucking hell, Oli.” He looked utterly disgusted with me. 

Which reflected my own feelings about myself perfectly. 

“She’ll be at our next show.” I continued. 

Mat got to his feet. At first, I thought he was about to leave, but instead he just began angrily pacing back and forth in front of me. 

I felt like a kid who was about to get a scolding from their parents. 

He stopped and looked down at my pathetic self on the floor, “Did you invite her?” 

I shook my head, causing more droplets to fall all around me, “No, she was already going. She’s been going to a lot of our shows the past year.” 

His eyes began darting all over the room, his mind obviously racing with thoughts – probably the same thoughts I had when I found out. After a handful of seconds, I could see the anger inside him deflate before he returned his attention to me, “Do you still miss her?” 

I shifted awkwardly, “I’m not sure.” I said honestly, shame filling me at my admission, “Thing is, the thought of seeing her again makes my skin crawl, but there’s just so much unresolved there. I want answers.” 

The pity reappeared in his eyes before he sat back down next to me, “You think she’d actually give you answers?”  

The question could have been perceived as mocking, but I could tell it was asked with sincerity.  

“I don’t know. All I know is that I’m nowhere near as healed as I thought I was.” And it was messing up my life in ways I couldn’t stand anymore. 

It also had me wondering how many unhealed wounds she’d left Mat with. 

“Do you want to meet her?” I asked quietly. 

He let his head fall back onto the mattress, looking almost as defeated as I felt, “I don’t know. She has a way of fucking with your head. I should hate her guts for everything she’s done to us, yet…” 

“You feel bad for her.” 

He huffed out a laugh, “Yeah.” 

“Yeah, me too.” I muttered. 

Mat studied my face for a moment before getting to his feet again, throwing a look towards my pile of clothes on my luggage, then back at me. 

I knew what he was silently asking, so I just nodded. 

He took the short steps over to my trousers, picking the pockets clean and headed towards the bathroom. 

When I heard the toilet flush, I was both relieved and terrified in equal measures. 

“I really need to go check on Lee.” He announced as soon as he came back out, almost as if pretending what he just did for me never happened, “Only the Matt’s of the group have it together lately.” 

Ah, never mind. 

“Why we needed two.” I said with a tired smile. 

He smiled back at me, “I’ll be back in just a couple of minutes, yeah?” 

My tired smile blossomed, feeling incredibly grateful for his continued support, especially when I was pulling so much stupid shit. 

“Mat,” I said right as he was about to leave, “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” He responded casually before latching the door shut. 

I looked towards the dress I’d peeled off Alice’s exhausted body to help her get ready for bed last night, and I felt as if I was at a crossroads; either I fall apart, wallow in self-pity and let the melancholy take root. 

Or I continue clawing out of the grave I’d dug for myself, and fight. 

Springing into action, I started rummaging through Alice’s bag, to see if she’d left her phone behind or not. 

After having made an absolute mess of the room in record time, I deduced she’d taken it with her, so I sat down on the bed and began taking screenshots. I wasn’t sure if Alice was anything like myself when it came to these sorts of things, but personally I’d require proof. 

Mat came back as I was in the middle of cataloguing my conversation with Fay the past two days, hoping that the context would shine a better light on the situation, destroying any conclusions Alice had drawn from the individual damaging messages that had been present on my lockscreen. 

“Just a minute, mate.” I mumbled to Mat, who collapsed into the chair next to the bed. 

But I must have taken more than a minute, as I suddenly heard the TV turn on, pulling my attention away from the message I was typing up for Alice. 

I looked up at Mat through my now slightly dryer hair, “Sorry, I got a bit caught up.” 

“Wanna tell me what you’re doing?” He asked with an amused smile. 

“I can’t let Alice think I’m trying to get back with Fay, so I’m sending over the whole chat… Along with a message.” 

He stared at me for a beat, “Let me see before you send it.” 

It might seem like an odd request to some, but me and Mat had often helped each other out when it came to delicate communication. It started when we were teens trying to convince our parents we weren’t out partying every night, but it quickly evolved into helping each chat up girls on MSN.  

When we were kids it pretty much only served to get our way, no matter what. But once we got older, we stopped lying, turning the intention behind putting our heads together significantly less self-serving.  

As an example, I helped him write the eulogy for a childhood friend that passed away some years ago. 

“Alright.” I responded without giving it a second thought. 

Once I was done, I handed the phone over to Mat. From the amount of time he took, he was clearly also reading over my chat with Fay. 

I grew increasingly anxious the longer he took, knowing that he was close to reading the things I’d told Fay; how I’d finally responded to her relentless stream of messages, showcasing how pathetic I am.  

Highlighting that she clearly still had some type of hold on me. 

“She seems different.” He finally said. 

“Yeah.” I agreed. 

“Like she’s happier. But who knows if that’s just for show or not.” Mat handed the phone back to me, “How come you haven’t told her about Alice?” 

While the messages I’d sent to Fay were cold, short, and could be counted on one hand – versus the vast amount she’d sent me – I had given her a life update, intentionally not mentioning Alice while doing so. 

“I almost did, but I’m not sure she’d still want to meet up if she knew I’d fallen for someone else.” 

Fay matched me in possessiveness, and considering she was still obsessed with me, I knew she’d take it poorly. 

He took a moment to consider my reasons, “Besides that bit potentially looking a bit sus, I think you’re ready to send that.” 

“You think it’s enough?” 

He shrugged, “Hopefully. Depends on Alice really. Like you said, you two aren’t a couple. But I think that’s the best you’re gonna get – it’s a good message you’ve written.” 

I looked at the message, explaining how I’d accidentally messaged Fay, and my reasons for responding at all, and wondered if it contained some hidden meaning – some hidden trigger that would send her into another spiral, considering I was essentially speaking to Alice like she was already my girlfriend. 

‘Are you breaking up with me?’ 

Her panicked words from last night echoed in my head, a most bewildering concoction of emotions lingering from them.  

Copying everything into Alice’s message box, I pressed send, and fell backwards onto the bed. 

“Don’t get lazy now, you’ve got to hold yourself to your word.” Mat said. 

In the message I’d let Alice know I’d be waiting by her door until she was ready to talk to me. 

My tired eyes met Mat’s, and I told him something I don’t tell him nearly enough, “I don’t know what I’d do without you to be honest.” 

“There are other drummers. None as good as me of course, but I’m sure you’d make do.” He joked, keeping the mood light as always. 

I just shook my head, “You know what I mean, man. I really don’t deserve this type of treatment from you. I’ve been a fucking bellend at every turn, and you’re over here giving me advice about a bird I know you also feel some type of way about. I just want to keep my shit together long enough to feel like a decent friend. Just for once.” 

Mat braced his arms on his knees as he leaned forward, giving him an air of seriousness, “You’ve been a shit friend many times,” he started, pinning me with his eyes, “truly fucking awful actually…” he muttered, and I felt my heart drop for a moment before he continued, “But you’re not like that anymore, and you haven’t been for a long time. You’ve shown me time and time again that you can be trusted – that you care, and that you are trying bloody hard to better yourself; and that’s all that matters to me. You’ve been there for me through some truly horrible times as well, so you’ve got to stop being so hard on yourself Oli. You don’t give yourself nearly as much credit as you should.” 

Silence fell for a beat as I tried to keep the tears out of my eyes. 

“The Oli I knew from five years ago wouldn’t have come clean about any of the things you told me today.” He added, “I would’ve had to pry that out of him, kicking and screaming.” 

I knew he was right, and while I knew I had changed, it just wasn’t good enough. 

“I want to do better than this.” I whispered. 

He slapped his knees and got to his feet, indicating that it was time to get up and deliver on my promises, “And you will – you’ve got an excellent track record for improvement.” 

Once I’d gotten dressed, I grabbed a drink from the mini fridge and sat down next to Alice’s door. 

“Hiya.” I awkwardly said under my breath to the second couple walking past me the last couple of minutes, shuffling my legs out of the pathway to not be more of a nuisance than I had to be.  

Lunch time was coming up so most of the guests were about to head to the restaurant located on the first floor, causing some hope to sprout, that maybe she’d want to head down as well. 

Every so often I’d hear the faint sound of talking coming from behind the wooden door, and butterflies would come to life in my chest whenever those inaudible words were spoken by her soft, delicate voice. 

As I listened to her, my mind wandered back to when my obsession with Alice had developed to the point of no return, about a week before I grabbed her and fucked her on that table in London. 

She’d been using the laundry facilities at a house we were renting down south for a three day stay between gigs – something we did at times as it was often more comfortable than staying at hotels. When she’d suddenly stormed out of the loud utility room, running into the living room where I was currently reading.  

For a moment I’d thought the place was on fire from the way she’d legged it, in combination with the sheer panic all over her flushed face, causing me to bolt upright from my previously sprawled position. 

“Is everything alright?” I asked over the washing machine which was clearly in the centrifuge part of the cycle. 

But Alice just fell to the floor in front of the coffee table between us and began searching through the pockets of a jacket that was bunched up there, too preoccupied with whatever she was searching for to provide me with an answer. I thought that maybe she was having some sort of medical emergency, potentially looking for an inhaler or an EpiPen, but then I saw smoke escaping the utility room door frame, lapping onto the ceiling, which caused me to immediately spring into action. 

Heat smacked me in the face once I stepped into the room, only to realise it wasn’t smoke I’d seen, but steam. The place was like a sauna, and after taking one look at the pile of folded clothes next to the iron, I quickly deducted why. 

Realising that whatever crisis was occurring didn’t have anything to do with the utility room, I turned around, only to immediately be face to face with Alice. 

The panic was gone from her features, instead she appeared embarrassed, and so apologetic you’d think she’d kicked a puppy. While holding her phone, she opened her mouth to explain, and before she even got a word out, I let myself relax, understanding that there was in fact no danger. 

When words began leaving her lips, I was about to interrupt her, to let her know I couldn’t hear a thing she was saying over the loud machinery. Only the faintest, most delicate tone of voice could be heard – which is exactly what I could hear now, listening to her in the hotel corridor.  

But I never got to speak up, as I got incredibly distracted. 

A drop of sweat running down the side of her neck had caught my attention, so clearly visible due to her hair being haphazardly put in a bun. My eyes followed it as it slowly snaked along her skin, enthralled, hungry, only to realise that her whole body seemed to be glistening with sweat, just covered by a flimsy crop top and shorts. 

I felt as if I was going mad.  

Like I’d been wandering in the desert for days and she was a lake, suddenly appearing right under my nose. 

Only it had been over a year since I’d fucked anything but my own hand. 

She hadn’t been talking for more than ten seconds when she gave me a questioning look. Having no way of knowing what she’d asked me, I just nodded in response, hoping it would be appropriate.  

Hoping my erection hadn’t become visible yet. 

It seemed to have worked, as she gave me a shy smile before walking off to the kitchen, shutting the door behind her. I sighed in relief, heading for the bathroom as I had nothing better to do than to use the fresh mental images of her to release some tension. 

But the laundry cycle ended, and the house fell quiet enough for me to hear that she was on the phone. 

I stopped, looking towards the kitchen door, then back to the bathroom, contemplating. 

But curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself taking gentle steps in Alice’s direction, wanting to hear what she was saying. 

Unlike the thick wooden door of the hotel room next to me, the kitchen door was so thin it might as well not have been there at all. And once I got close enough, I could make out her words if I focused hard enough. 

“I can’t believe I just remembered, I feel horrible about it, mum.” 

“You called her, you got her a gift, and we always put your name in the card we give her. I’m certain she’s not expecting a card from you as well.” Her mum had responded, which I’d heard clearer than I’d heard Alice – and the call wasn’t even over speaker phone. 

“But I always give her and all her sisters their own cards, I wouldn’t want her to feel left out. I know it’s been a couple of weeks since her birthday, but should I just send one now?” 

The longer I listened, the more puzzled I grew. 

Could all that panic really have been over a bloody birthday card? 

I was so extremely bewildered by the fact that this creature felt so much guilt over something so extremely trivial – especially since I was used to someone regularly treating me like a doormat and expressing no guilt at all over it. 

Or at least not until they feared losing me – until it affected them. 

Fay was wrong about a lot of things, and until that moment I’d thought she’d been entirely wrong about letting myself relax when it comes to how I experience love. 

But was it possible that I’d simply let myself fall for the wrong person? Given my heart to someone who wouldn’t handle it like the fragile thing it is; so quick to bleed. 

And then the idea of giving into my emotions with someone like Alice consumed me. 

I was terrified, attempting to reject the longing inside me. But it was a pointless battle, the hope that I’d found someone worth handing my aching, scarred heart to was simply too strong. 

Of course, falling for Alice had come with its own set of problems. 

Problems I needed to resolve. 

The hotel room door suddenly opened, jarring me out of my thoughts. 

I shot to my feet, knocking over the empty energy drinks next to me with a clatter. 

Hours had passed, and I’d kept going back to my room for more caffeine as staying awake wasn’t the easiest at this point considering how little I’d slept. 

Disappointment washed over me as I was staring into Liam’s fed-up eyes. 

“She wants to talk to you now.” He proclaimed before pushing past me to head towards the elevator. 

The door slowly swung open, and I finally got to see her. 

Her eyes were slightly puffy, and she was holding her arms defensively. 

She was as beautiful as ever. 

“Hi.” I breathed, leaning against the door frame, feeling disproportionally happy to see her considering I didn’t know if it was just to tell me to fuck off for good. 

She rubbed her arms, her messy blonde locks falling over her shoulder as she did so, “So, are you gonna meet up with her?” 

She sounded so shy, so scared. 

“I think so, yeah.”  

There was a disappointment that settled on her, reflected more in her posture than on her face, which still held a sense of fear. 

I looked around us, wanting to elaborate, wanting to talk to her privately, only to see someone coming from the end of the corridor, “Can I come in?” 

She nodded and moved to the side. 

Allowing me the privilege of her company, and hopefully to set things right. 

... Subscribe to the story on Ao3 for future updates

[countrymusiclover]

101 - Red Roses and Blood

Part 102

Gemini Runaway

@icefrye19 @secretdreamlandmentality

Throwing my phone against the wall it shatters into pieces after I heard Cami go visit the church with Josh to find my brother and Hayley. But the coffins were destroyed and the one with Andrea was missing alongside them. “I can’t believe they did such a thing. I don’t remember being this reckless when I was a teenager.” Pacing back and forth in front of my husband I grumble curse words under my breath.

Klaus raised a glass of blood to his lips sitting on one of the barstools. “Raelyn love, this is not your fault. The girls are just going through a faze and need to grow out of it.”

“But what if they never do, Nik. What if they just keep breaking the rules and we can’t do anything to stop them.” Turning around to face him I sighed, slumping my shoulders in defeat. “We are the most powerful creatures on the planet. A hybrid and a heretic. We have never been powerless and yet I feel like we are at this moment.”

Klaus sat his glass down getting up from his chair slowly wrapping his arms around me in a comfortable hug. Wrapping my arms around him I buried my face into his shirt. He kisses my hairline holding me close against his chest. “Sssh Rae. We will not let them get into more trouble I swear to you.”

“But now they have my brother…Hayley ... .and Andrea who is still asleep and helpless against whoever took them. I’m terrified and I need to spill blood…I want to tear the world apart to find whoever did this!” Pulling my head back I bared my teeth while letting tears slip, holding onto his shoulder blades tightly.

Klaus raised one of his hands up to the side of my face where I leaned into his palm. “And we will do just that. I say we use all the factions in this town to our disposal. Surely someone will find them and if they refuse to help…then you and I shall paint the city red with blood like the king and queen we are.” He intertwined my left hand in his free one raising it to his lips kissing the golden wedding ring smirking.

Klaus and I made it our mission to talk with the three supernatural factions of the city not believing any of them to be innocent currently at the moment. We stopped and dragged Vincent over for a private chat. “Hope, Alina and Missy hid their cousin and her parents with a cloaking spell. Someone found her. That requires a witch.” Klaus snapped at him sternly.

But he denied that they had done anything. “So that means it was one of mine? I don't think so.”

Klaus clicked his tongue. “You witches always plead virtue, but if history's to be prologue, you're the most rotten of the bunch.”

“As soon as Freya told me that they had gone missing, there were a dozen of us witches out there on them streets performing locator spells, trying to find her. Because little Andrea is actually a friend to us, okay? Hayley, her mother, unlike you, has earned our respect. And out of respect to her, I'm only gonna say this to you one time, Klaus: we had absolutely nothing to do with her disappearance. I promise you that.” Vincent snapped back at him.

My husband shook his head not liking the answer. “A witch's promise is as slippery as snake oil and as effective. You want peace and prosperity? Prove your innocence and find her.”

A few hours later we left the city and headed to the bayou hoping to find the answer with the Crescent wolves I’d turned. “Why would the werewolves take down their own Alpha?” Lisina asked, offended.

Klaus shrugged his shoulders pointing his finger around at the area of the bayou. “That's a valid question. Perhaps one of your fellow swampmates can shed some light.”

Another wolf that was with Lisina said back. “We are the victims here. A bloodsucker killed Henry just for being a hybrid.”

“No, you wolves saw the boy as an abomination, as well. Who's to say the same disgust didn't extend to Hayley? A guilty wolf could just point fingers at vampires to cover their tracks. If you didn't take her, I suggest you find out who did.” Klaus tilled his head snapping back at them.

Grasping his hand in mine I stepped forward showing my fangs and I created a fireball in my other hand. “If you need some more inspiration to help us, how about this. If you don’t help us then the wedding between my daughter Alina and Jackson is off and I will find a way to undo the hybrid gift of not having to turn away from you and you will have to turn every full moon just like I did when you all had to remain in your wolf form except when there was a full moon. So if you enjoy your freedom I suggest you start searching!”

“Now onto Marcel, heretic queen.” Klaus smirked down to me draping his arm over my shoulder showing me his golden eyes enjoying seeing me firey like this.

Josh and Marcel met us in one of the alleyways but the former king of the city didn’t think we were being serious. “Do you really think my guys would be that stupid? They know that if they even laid a finger on Hayley, they'd be answering to me.”

Klaus tilted his head poking a finger at his failed proposal to get Rebekah to marry him. “Well, was it you who ordered the vampires to antagonize the wolves and string up that hybrid boy? No. I didn't think so. Perhaps your royal status has wilted along with your marital prospects.”

Josh stepped between the two fighting kings. “All right, all right. Easy. The vampires like Hayley and Jacob .. Everyone does. We didn't touch them.”

“Well, I suggest you amp up your efforts to retrieve her, then. Because if my wife is not reunited with her brother by sundown, then your entire faction will face the wrath of my disappointment.” Klaus raised his voice giving this same threat to the other two factions while he now points his index finger at me leaning against the wall. Gripping my brother's necklace in my fingers I death glared at the vampire’s. “Close proximity of just two Mikaelsons turned rain to blood. Imagine what would happen if I were to turn to my siblings for help. Our little family reunion would cause hellfire to devour us all.”

We had made it back to the compound a few hours later where I laid my back on the bed staring at the ceiling of our bedroom. Twirling the blue gemstone in between my fingers I didn’t even hear my husband enter the room until he sat down on the bed. “Our daughters and little Henrik are back at the school in Mystic Falls. And Freya is there to keep an eye on them.”

“Hmm.” I made a noise but nothing more than that while I just kept playing with the necklace not looking at him.

Nik laid down on his back just watching my movements slowly. He had seen all different kinds of my freak outs before. From me setting everything on fire to me bawling my eyes out and thinking I deserved to die. “Rae, what’s wrong, love?”

“Nothing.” Again only one word answer.

Finally he reached up, snatching my wrists and pinned them above my head. “Talk to me, Raelyn. I know you as well as I know myself. I know when you need to lash out and how you let go. But you haven’t done one of those yet so what is going on?”

“Nothing is going on, Nik. I just….I don’t know what to feel. I want to rip whoever took them apart. I want to know who it was so we can get them back. I want to know if they are even still alive. Because right now not knowing or doing anything is driving me crazy!” I pushed him off me with my magic sitting upright on the bed hugging my knees to my chest crying.

Klaus carefully moved towards me, raising his hands up, taking a hold of my shoulders, making me look him in the eye. “Rae, listen to me. I know you’re frustrated and worried about them. But I swear we will put you at ease soon.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here, Nik….I don’t want to be alone. I feel alone without Jacob and you.” Flinging my arms around his neck he stumbled down onto the floor where he was previously on his knees but now he was on his butt.

He kisses the crown of my head before hearing someone coming up the stairs. “You’re not alone, Rae. I’m right here….now it’s a good time unless you have information, Marcellus.”

“I have an address and I know you two would want to check it out.” He came into the room before Klaus helped me get to my feet holding me against his chest knowing I was in an emotional state until we reached the house.

Klaus stopped opening the outside door for us where Marcel started to go inside until he stopped him. “We're here. Wait.What do you hear?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Marcel went for the door stepping inside first.

Klaus made a noise holding the door open for me. “Hmm.”

“That can’t be good.” I mumbled going through the other door smelling the musty air of this old abandoned house.

Looking around myself I could smell blood coming from somewhere but there weren't any other sounds of smell. Klaus reach’s down for my hand seeing me shiver when a chill ran down my spine. “Klaus. Raelyn.” Marcel called our names where Nik went into the kitchen first and I followed after him.

Shifting my gaze to the wall it was stained with blood before I gasped seeing two chairs with tight ropes sitting in the middle of the kitchen. “Oh my god.”

“Wolfsbane and vervain.” Marcel smells the ropes looking up at us.

Klaus squeezes my hand seeing that I was on the verge of tears. “They were here….uh Rae.”

“Hell no….what are they doing to you Jacob.” Covering my mouth with my hands I began sobbing reading the words on the wall that said ‘Freak Filth Crossbreed’ that was written in either my brother or Hayley’s blood. “J…no….he can’t be…I refuse to believe that he could be…Nik!”

“Ssssh Rae. I’m here.” He wrapped his arms around my shaky form. My knees gave out from under me where I buried my face into his shirt sobbing. My husband scooped me up bridal style, vamping us back to the compound. Once we got home I didn’t see him for a while leaving him to do whatever he was up to downstairs. Standing outside on the balcony I just kept staring out at the night sky and the bright city lights reflecting up back at me. Twirling the necklace in my right hand sniffing through some tears until I heard footsteps coming outside to find me. “Rae, how are you feeling now?”

Glancing over my shoulder I wiped away tears with the sleeve of my red leather jacket. “I’m…feeling…broken. I mean I put Hayley and Jacob inside those coffins. It’s my fault they are in danger…how am I supposed to feel!”

“You’re not broken, Raelyn. You just need to take a moment and not think that they are being tortured right now. So come with me.” He offered his hand to me and I placed my hand in his. He leads me through the compound until we ended up in the bathroom seeing some blood in wine glasses and some red roses.

"What's all this for exactly?" I asked him to drop my hands from Jacob's necklace that I had started wearing again.

Klaus whispered in my ear, leaning his head down beginning to trail kisses from underneath my ear and down to my neck until he reached my shoulder. "We haven't been together for five years and in all that time you never could break down and let me comfort you. Now that we are back together I am making up for lost time."

I shifted underneath his arms where he felt me lean into him with my back pressed against his front telling him I was enjoying it which made him smirk into my neck still kissing me. "You don't have to do that. We - mmm - need to focus on saving Jacob, Hayley and Andrea."

"Rae, just for a moment let all the worry go." He spins me around underneath his arm holding my face in his hands giving me a genuine smile. "We will find them, I promise. But for now I need to do what I vowed to you on our wedding day."

"Nik- I tried once more but he cut me off with a kiss.

"I vowed that I would take care of you in your time of need, be there to listen when you need to rant, treat you like the queen you are because you are not broken. I vowed that I would be your devoted partner, to make love to you and help you raise our daughters and now son for our immortal lives. I don't intend to break that vow ever. Because I love you."

Leaning up on my toes I moved my arms around his neck finally kissing him. Klaus deepened the kiss without hesitation and moaned lightly when I tugged on his dirty blonde hair. He moved one of his hands down my hip resting it there with his other hand went underneath my shirt pushing it up towards my head. "I love you too, and I don’t want to break our vows either."

He dropped my shirt on the floor too, taken by the fact that I moved his shirt up and over his head. By that point we removed the rest of our clothes and got in the warm water. I was in first before climbing in behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist resting his chin on my head when I laid my head on his bare chest. "Hmmm thank you for this…for all of this." I whispered, closing my eyes and enjoying the feeling of being here with him.

"You're welcome, dear. I just want you to know that you can always come to me and we will fix this problem and the one with the Hollow." He mumbled resting his chin on top of my head. Resting my hands on his chest I listen to his heartbeat.

Lifting my head up I met his gaze placing a hand to his stubble kissing him once more. He leaned forward responding to the kiss, switching our position where my back was against the side of the tub and he was above me. "Nik, I can't live without you here anymore. I can't live an eternity without your voice, your touch, your smell, everything that makes up you."

"I can't live without all of you either, Raelyn. And I vow to you here and now that we shall never part again." He leaned down moving his hands over my body and I did the same where we knew we were throwing water on the floor. The simple kiss became heated where we filled the room with kisses and moans from one another until someone smashed through the window.

"Agg!" I shriek clinging onto his forearms when he shielded me with his body where our eyes shifted to a tiny box sitting in a pile of glass. "What the hell is that?"

Klaus reached outside of the tub picking it up and opening the small box. He reached inside holding up a golden coin with a egal on one side of it. "A message... from enemies I thought I buried long, long ago.” He shifted his gaze to meet mine seeing that I was hugging my knees to my chest concerned again once he had said.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[searidings]

this is what happens when @ekingston and i get our hands on the prompt “that's my wife!” and agree that she'll draw my idea for it and i'll write hers (aka hearing kara call it out as she watches lena being wheeled down a hospital corridor)

“Excuse me, you can't go through there!”

Kara growls. The woman blocking her path is short and gently rounded, the kind lines of her face drooping in disapproval above her nurse's scrubs. “No visitor access beyond this point, dear. Immediate family only.”

“Immediate— you're joking, right?” Kara cranes her head, peering through the closing doors to catch a last glimpse of Lena's gurney as it rounds the corner at the end of the hall. “That's my wife!”

The nurse gapes at her. “Your—?”

Kara growls again, louder. It's a good thing she'd blown out her powers twenty minutes ago, or she would not be held responsible for the Kryptonian-shaped hole in NC Memorial Hospital's expensive surgery doors. “Yes, my wi—”

Her snarl is cut off by a hand clamping down firmly over her mouth from behind. Kara's first instinct is to bite it. She resists, narrowly, as the familiar scent of shea butter moisturiser registers in her adrenaline-fogged brain.

“You sure about that?” Alex squeaks around a nervous laugh, voice pitched a half-octave too high. She removes her hand from Kara's mouth, wiping her damp palm on her pants with a wrinkled nose. “Get hit on the head during that fight, did you?”

Kara whirls on her sister, eyes blazing. “Am I sure?” she parrots incredulously. Alex cowers a little beneath the force of her stare. “Unless you're trying to tell me I hallucinated my entire wedding—”

“Supergirl isn't married,” Alex stage-whispers loud enough to be heard in Florida, glancing pointedly down at Kara's ash-caked body and oh yeah, she's still wearing her supersuit.

Right, right.

The nurse – Rosemary, her badge reads – finally picks her jaw up off the floor long enough to speak. Her eyes are wide, sparkling with sudden glee. “So Lena Luthor and Su—”

Kara's hackles rise at the suggestion in her tone. “Lena Luthor and Kara Danvers are happily married,” she interrupts sternly. “You might have seen the wedding photos in last month's Vogue.”

The nurse smirks. At her elbow, Alex drops her head into her hands.

“Kara Danvers, hm? Amazing what a pair of glasses do for you, dear.” Rosemary's brow quirks with impish satisfaction and, oh. Whoops. It would appear that in her haste to quash any potential rumours of Lena's infidelity behind the back of her very recent, very publicly human wife, she'd forgotten about the other delicate matter at hand.

Alex sighs so long and so heavy Kara legitimately marvels that she doesn't pass out from the strain. “I knew keeping a spare NDA in my back pocket would pay off,” her sister groans, thrusting an official-looking, if crumpled, contract beneath the nurse's nose.

“Sorry,” Kara murmurs sheepishly as Rosemary signs away page after page of her right to ever disclose Supergirl's identity in any capacity. “I wasn't thinking, I can't— Alex, it's Lena.”  

“I know, I know,” her sister soothes, frustration dissipating as she reaches out to pull Kara into her side, ignoring the soot and grit that smear across her jacket at the contact. “She's gonna be okay.”

“But what if she's not?” Kara asks and the sobs arrive then, the last remnants of the fight or flight response that had propelled her this far dissipating beneath the weight of her terror. “She stepped right in front of that bullet, Alex! Of all the stupid, reckless—”

“If I recall, she was pushing you back after you shoved her out of the way in the first place,” Alex hums thoughtfully. Kara's tear-filled eyes snap to her face, incredulous, and her sister grimaces. “Right, right. Not the time.”

“She has to be okay,” she gasps, clutching hard at her sister's jacket as her knees threaten to give out beneath her. “She has to, I can't— I feel like I can't breathe. Like my heart's been ripped out.”

Alex clicks her tongue in sympathy, wrapping a firm arm round Kara's waist and guiding her to a nearby row of chairs. Rosemary deposits the signed NDA wordlessly on the hard plastic beside them, reaching into her scrubs to produce a pack of tissues.

Alex accepts, extracting one to dab at Kara's snotty, tear-stained face with her free hand. “Welcome to married life, kid,” she chuckles, pressing a kiss to Kara's matted hair. “It can be a real bitch.”

-

It's a long night.  

It's a long night, a night of anxious waiting and barely-restrained nausea and vending machine coffee so bad even Nia won't drink it. Her family, their family, crowd the waiting room, dozing across the rows of seats as the hours drag on and on.

Alex tries her best, at varying intervals, to force her back to the Tower for a stint under the sun lamps. Every time without fail, Kara sets her jaw, then sets her feet in the middle of the surgical wing waiting room and refuses to budge.

This leads to several arguments, and a lot of impassioned shoving.  

“What if she needs me?” Kara laments tearily, pout activated and puppy dog eyes firmly in place. Alex, mid-football tackle with her arms and right shoulder braced against Kara's torso as she attempts to use her entire bodyweight to force her sister toward the exit, only grunts with exertion. Behind them, J’onn dozes in the corner. Brainy and Kelly and Nia continue their conversation without batting an eyelid.

“No, scratch that, she does need me,” Kara corrects, unaffected by her sister's NFL-worthy body slam. “She's been shot. I'm not going anywhere.”

Alex, perhaps finally sensing defeat after her fourth unsuccessful attempt, gives one final shove with all her strength. Kara doesn't so much as wobble, and her sister releases her with a huff. “Fine. But for the love of God, change your clothes before you start shouting about your wife again,” she pants, red-faced and sweating as she collapses into a nearby chair. “That was my last NDA.”

That's a compromise she can make. Kara accepts the bundle of clothes Nia presents her with, stripping out of her dirt-caked suit and re-donning her glasses. Thankfully, the only person around to witness Kara entering the bathroom as a superhero and re-emerging as a Catco reporter is Rosemary.  

The updates on Lena's condition are sporadic at best. By the time the first surgeon emerges to say the bullet has been removed from Lena's chest cavity Kara's accidentally cracked three plastic chairs, advanced all the way to Lollipop Land on Alex's Candy Crush, and worn a groove into the waiting room linoleum with her nervous pacing.

When another doctor emerges three hours later to tell them Lena had developed a tension pneumothorax and needs additional treatment, Kara's made it to Rainbow Reef and chewed her bottom lip bloody.

When, at five in the morning, yet another doctor appears to inform them that Lena is being placed on anti-radiation medication to counter the Kryptonite that had coated the bullet, Kara's finished all nine thousand nine hundred and thirty-five levels of the damn game. The doctor leaves, promising to be back with more news soon, and Kara squeezes her sister's hand so hard poor Nurse Rosemary has to be called to administer an ice pack for the bruising, solar flare be damned.

Dawn breaks to find Kara scratchy-eyed and grumpy, worn ragged with worry. The waiting room begins to fill up around them, new patients and their relatives coming and going, and still there's nothing new on Lena. Every time another scrub-clad surgeon pushes through the doors Kara's heart skips a beat, all of them sitting up straighter in their seats, but every time the doctor passes them by.

Kara's just wolfed down six cold breakfast sandwiches procured by Brainy on his sojourn to the hospital cafeteria and is debating the relative merits of starting Candy Crush over from scratch when another young doctor appears. Her scrub cap has avocados on it. Kara likes her already.

“Family of Ms Luthor?” she calls, looking around, and Kara pushes up hard from her chair to the resounding snap of cracking plastic. Whoops.

“It's Luthor-Danvers,” she gabbles as she bounds over to the surgeon, palms sweating. No matter how many times she hears it, it never loses its thrill. “I'm, I'm her wife.”

The young doctor's features soften. “Of course. I've come to let you know that it looks like Ms Luthor-Danvers is out of the woods. She's sedated and still on an anti-radiation drip, but she's through the worst of it.” She appraises Kara, gaze lingering on her chewed-raw lips and clenching fingers, then leans closer conspiratorially. “It's not general visiting hours yet, but you can see her, if you'd like.”

“Yes!” Kara's shouting almost before the surgeon has finished speaking. “Yes, please, yes.”

She hugs them all, Alex and Brainy and Nia and Kelly and J’onn, and leaves them in the waiting room as she follows the doctor's sunshine-yellow crocs down the hall.

They round corner after corner, an interminable maze. Powerless as she is, she can't hear Lena’s heartbeat, and the absence of the steady beat that has become the soundtrack to her existence sets her even more on edge.  

But at last they turn a corner, and there she is. She's pale and bandaged and her eyes are closed, creamy skin streaked with dirt and bruises, but she's there, she's alive, she's Lena.  

The surgeon holds the door open for her with a smile and Kara's across the room in a heartbeat, smoothing a hand over Lena's warm cheek and pressing kiss after kiss to her forehead and hair.  

“I love you, I love you,” she whisper-cries against Lena's temple, tucking her matted curls behind her ears. The smell of blood and dirt and antiseptic is almost overwhelming, but beneath the dust and debris caught up in her hair Lena's scalp smells the same as always. Kara presses her face to the crown of her head and inhales deeply, soaking it in.  

“Why'd you have to be so damn brave?” she whispers, nuzzling her cheek against silky softness. “I love you so much. Please don't step in front of any more bullets. Please learn to be a coward, occasionally.”

The singular relief of having Lena living and breathing and in her arms again is so complete, so compounded by the fear and the adrenaline and the sleepless night and the solar flare, that she feels suddenly that she may crumple to the ground from the force of it all.

Unwilling to relinquish her hold for even a second she appraises the bandages covering Lena's right side, then crawls onto the hospital bed on her left, careful to avoid her many wires and monitors. She tucks herself in beside her on the wide mattress, chin hooked over Lena's shoulder and face pressed to the side of her neck, and lets the tears that haven't really stopped falling since that bullet had left its chamber fall for just a little longer.

Nothing matters outside of the two of them, outside of the warmth of Lena's body and the softness of her skin beneath Kara's lips and the steady thud of her heart beneath Kara's palm. Nothing else in the world exists, so when an unfamiliar male voice sounds from the doorway it takes her a moment to register the intrusion.

“Excuse me, ma’am, you really can't be on the bed with her,” the strange, disembodied voice calls from behind her and Kara frowns tiredly, unable and unwilling to acknowledge anything outside of the woman in her arms.

But before she's even managed to raise her head another voice sounds, the soft tones of a young surgeon in an avocado scrub cap.  

“Oh, honestly, Peter,” the kindly doctor says with gentle reproach, a quiet calm washing over the room as the door is pulled closed and she and Lena are left alone. “Leave them be. That's her wife.”

[keeper0fthestars]

would you let me

din djarin x fem!reader (au)

summary: tattooed!din. guys you should know me by now, there’s no plot this is shamelessly soft and a little bit of filth (you can assume this takes place well after the events of ywmnd, but it can be read as a stand-alone fic)

warnings: Din without his helmet, 18+ explicit, fluff/smut, love and affection, oral f receiving, praise kink, y’all din is Hor-neeeee, dirty talk sort of, possessive din, cock warming, unprotected sex, oh yea- din doesn’t realize how enamoured you are with his tattoos.

a/n: Did I intend for this to be 2.8k words? Hahaha, oh god, in my head this was only 600 words at the most and i have nothing to say for myself, all i want is Din Djarin to be being safe, stable and happy.

✨immaculate✨moodboard at the bottom by: @bxbafett​

~~

His skin tingles where you still touch him.

The sweat has dried but he can’t yet bring himself to move from where he'd collapsed next to you on the pillows a few minutes ago. Sprawled on his stomach, he takes up your side of the bed, the comfortable weight of your leg bent over the back of his thigh. The heat of your mouth and the exquisite grip of your pussy would stay with him for days.

The peaceful glow blanketing the room hangs in contrast to the raging wind outside. The storm arrived unexpectedly before dawn and continues to rattle the windows every so often, a promise that it's far from over. 

Muscles protesting, he bunches the pillow under his arms. His eyes struggle to stay open and he sees you’re doing no better, not a lick of tension left in your body. His shoulders bulging, he rests his head on his forearms, lulled by the sensation of your slow fingers tracing the dark ink over his shoulder blade. 

He wonders what you're thinking about, he wonders if you even realize you’re doing it. Not that he minds. Not that he needed a reason to keep you in bed today. Drowsy and spent, the look on your face tells him you wouldn't be able to recall a single thing you’d carried over from yesterday’s to-do list. He likes days like this when the only thing on your mind is him. Even now, especially now, when all that exists is the delicious scent of you and he’s on the verge of dozing off and it's not even noon. He can't get enough of how fucking beautiful you are after he's fucked you. 

//

The dwindling fire dances in the corner of the room, creating shadows across the dips and valleys of his back. Coals begin to crackle but neither of you seems to care about the chill creeping back in the room. The window could be wide open right now and neither of you would even notice.

At the moment, other things occupy your mind. Lazy, your fingers continue over the smooth slope of his shoulder, repeatedly admiring the same path of black ink. 

With a languid exhale, he shifts, turning on his side, ruffling the toasty air under the quilt between you. One arm propped under his head, his other hand slipping warm underneath the blanket, hugging your hip, he settles heavy and solid beside you. 

Your eyes are drawn to the intricate pattern that spreads across his chest and curls around his biceps and disappears under the blankets. You know the significance of each piece of ink. The one on his shoulder, the one bigger than your palm is your favourite. Ever since he'd gotten it, you found yourself silently longing for something you’d never thought you’d want. But then, you’ve never done anything as reckless as being in love before. 

You've often wondered if he'd like that; to see a similar version of one of his tattoos somewhere on you, to watch him brush his fingers over it, or his mouth- tracing the pattern in the dark, knowing the shape of it from memory alone. Tender evidence of just how entwined your life with him is. 

The thought of it pulls delightfully inside your stomach.

When you look up, he’s already watching you. 

He sees the flash of eagerness in your eyes before you blink it away, he sees the cautious way you wet your bottom lip as you consider your words. He can see you’re itching to say something. 

"If I wanted something like this, would you do it for me?"

His brow flattens, his lips part and you can tell the question catches him off guard. You hear the hitch in the air but you don’t know the half of it. 

You do not know that his throat jams with adrenaline when he opens his mouth to answer you— he barely manages to swallow it down and level his voice enough to speak. He’s powerless to stop the grin that sneaks into the corner of his mouth.

‘Of course, I would.’ 

The kick of overwhelming pride in his veins is instant, a punch to his lungs. This timid little request sets off fireworks in his stomach, floods hot up his chest, flushing the roots of his scalp. Something so tangible, so primal he thinks he could reach in and touch it. He thinks if he does, it might lay him to waste. The more he visualizes you this way, the more light-headed he becomes. 

And then you weaken him further. Sweet little apples forming on your cheeks— and he gives in. Allows the sensation to shatter him.

His girl, his girl, wants ink that matches his. 

He wants to bask in it, drown himself in it. Arousal licks hot inside his stomach, tightens his cock so fast it makes him dizzy-  

Instead of on your hip, the heat of his hand is now curling around the back of your neck and his forehead collides gently with yours. Warm and solid.

He has to close his eyes, focus on you, or the muscles around his heart will squeeze right out of his chest and turn him into a puddle. His cock, painfully heavy between his legs.

Tethering himself against your warm brow, he lingers, focuses on your breath fanning down his cheek. Eventually, he comes back down again. 

You'd said you want him to do it.

You'd be wearing a part of him on your skin. Forever. 

Fuck.

How he wants it.

His lungs threaten to collapse again.

Gentle fingers squeeze the nape of your neck, spreading warmth down your spine. Nudging your forehead up, you are met with the imploring depths of his eyes carefully fixed on yours, circling your features. You watch his brows pull together, the earnestness on his face tugs at the strings around your heart.

“You would let me?” He asks.

You know exactly what he means.  Giving him the power to adorn you, stinging with needles.

To hurt you. Trust that he wouldn’t. 

Like his name hasn’t already been written on the inside of your heart since the day you met.

Your hand curves along the scruffy edge of his jaw, reaching further, tangling in his hair. Tipping your face up, your mouth slides between his supple lips and you answer him the only way you can.  

He melts immediately, nose pressing into your cheek, tugging you closer with a soft hungry moan. Stubble grazing, you’re lost inside the slick of his mouth, his tongue sliding deeper, reaching for yours. His hand trails down the curve of your back, his cock rigid, presses against your softness and heat swoops low in your belly. Much too soon he pulls away and you already feel his burning gaze as you struggle to pull your eyelids open.

Bloomed and dark, his eyes burn with adoration so intense it would blot out both suns.

"Where would you want it?" 

The softness in his voice makes your heart flutter. You already see the possibilities flickering in his eyes; his ink decorating you.  

Easing you back on the pillows, you barely get a chance to give his question any thought when you feel the ends of his hair tickling your jaw, his mouth ghosting over your clavicle. 

"Maybe here?" his voice lilts up at the end, satisfied at the goosebumps erupting across your skin.

He doesn't give you time to answer, instead, he grasps your hand, softly brushing his thumb over the tendons on the inside of your wrist. "Or, here."

And then it hits you and your mouth goes dry. “You’ve already thought about this.”

‘Yeah,’ he says softly, bending to slot his lips over your open mouth. ‘I have.’

His admission just about ruins you.

Ugh. This man.

Curiosity ignites inside you, in sync with an eagerness of an entirely different kind. One that charges your pulse, makes your voice weak.

‘Where would you want it?’ 

He's slow with his answer. Even slower gripping the blanket from underneath. Pulling it down, watching the satin edge slide over your skin, watching it slowly catch on your nipples. Bit by bit, exposing the soft fullness of your curves. Doesn't stop pulling until the blanket bunches around your knees. 

You watch his mouth tug into a crooked grin. 

Crowding over the side of you, he’s so long and so broad. Your skin tingles under his appreciative gaze. A warm hand trails up the side of your hip, fingertips counting ribs, so gentle it's almost ticklish. You struggle to breathe around the quivering in your stomach where your heart thuds erratically from one corner of your ribcage to the other. 

Unhurried fingers trace a slow semicircle underneath your breast.

‘I want one here,’ his head dips down, his nose following the swell of soft skin. ‘So I can see it every time I fuck you.’

Your pussy twinges, heat flaring all the way to your nipples. 

Oh.

Grasping a handful of your breast, he circles his tongue over your nipple and before you can put a single thought together, his large hand moves to your hip, squeezes, then melts into the softest of touches.  

“And I want one down here.”

You catch his gaze, blazing and dark, before his mop of messy dark hair trails down your stomach. 

He licks a hot stripe over the spot he's just identified on the inside of your hip bone, teeth nipping. Your core clenches painfully at the contact and your vision goes hazy. He is pleased with your splintered gasp, but you can think of a few other uses for that smug grin.  As though reading your mind, his open mouth finds more bare skin, hot and wet, scraping slower, pushing your legs apart. 

His voice low, possessive, ‘No one but me would ever know about them.’

The thought sends a spectacular sting of arousal around your ass and up your spine. 

Something only for him. Maker. He renders you so defenseless so fast your head spins. 

"So, what do you think?" his voice dips lower, his stubble scrapes up the inside of your thigh. "Where should we start?"

You know he just asked you a question but his thumb is toying with the seam of your pussy now and the words he just said have nothing to cling to inside your head. He’s slow about it, pressing just far enough to collect your wetness and push it up around your clit. Painting. Teasing. Dipping further each time only to pull away and bring it to his mouth. Spreading you wider so he can see how flushed and swollen you are and he hasn’t even used his mouth yet.  

“You gonna answer me?” Using his palm to pin your leg open, his mouth sinks into the inside of your thigh, teeth and all, and he hears you pull air from the beams of your ceiling.

“Tha-s not fair..” you plead.

He moans his agreement into the flesh of your other thigh. “We can finish this conversation after you cum.”

His mouth closes over your clit and your eyes roll back in your head. He doesn’t let up.

“Din-,” you gasp.

He pulls off your swollen clit and sucks the taste off his lips, watching you clench for him at the loss of contact.  

“Yeah?” 

You’re so fucking wet for him that his cock throbs, leaking between his stomach and the sheets. Bending his index finger he drags the side of his knuckle over your clit, pushing deep until he snags your entrance, holding you there. You’re already fluttering around him, so eager. With every clench, more slick leaks between his fingers. Your ragged breathing turns into the most filthy whimpers every time he laps at your clit. His other hand pries your fist from the sheet beside you, curls his fingers through yours and holds tight. Collects wetness on his tongue and leaves it on your clit again.

“You wanna cum on my mouth... or my cock.”

“Yes…” you plead, chest heaving, not sure if he even hears you. 

He doesn’t know what you’re moaning ‘yes’ to but he doesn’t care because your pussy is too fucking tempting to stop now. Two fingers buried to the knuckle, they twist and curl and he has to hold your hips from seizing and climbing off the bed when you cry out and come apart at the seams. 

He moans blissfully, mouth buried in your pussy, working you through it until your grip on his hair loosens and your thighs finally lay limp around his shoulders.  His mouth becomes patient, gently cleaning you up until you’re too sensitive to take anymore.

He crawls up to your mouth, forearms crowding you on either side, settling his weight between your legs. Your hands tug through his hair and he moans again, taking his time inside your mouth, sloppy and breathless.

Blissed out and shaky, you let him nudge you over on your side. Bringing the blanket over your bodies, he climbs up behind you like a massive wall of warmth. 

Soft kisses to your shoulder, his hand splays firm on your belly; he needs to be as close as possible, needs to fit himself between your legs, perfectly content to just keep himself there for the rest of the day if that’s all you wanted. 

He knows it’s not. 

Still keyed-up from your orgasm, the heavy length of his cock slides exquisitely through your folds, the wide ridges catch perfectly on your tender clit. He throbs hot and your eyes cloud over with a need so obscene, so sharp, it would take no effort at all to angle your hips and ease every inch of him into you. Your fingertips reach down, smearing your fingers over the blunt head of his cock and he twitches for you, leaking and hot, a broken groan shuddering within his chest behind you. The ache goes straight to your pussy.

His mouth gone dry, his hand like steel on your hip now. He holds delightfully still, right over your clit and he feels you shudder and clench, more heat spilling out around his cock. 

“Does my girl want more?”  His hand dips below the swell of your ass, he squeezes into your flesh, pulling you apart, making more room for himself, fixed on supplying you another heavenly inch of contact. You oblige and squeeze the muscles between your legs, giving him more friction and he keens for you, whimpering ‘fuck’  

He sees you bring your slippery fingers into your mouth, and he has to force his eyes shut and rein himself in, dazed at how dangerously close he is to that sweet blinding edge of oblivion. He feels you clench desperately again, knows it’s because you’re gathering more slick from his weeping cock and swallowing it down.

Pressing your ass into the base of his hips you arch your back, sliding him once more through the same path. The desperate sound he makes against the back of your neck makes you throb. 

He hums wet kisses into your neck, bringing three fingers soaked from his mouth to your nipple, rolling them over the hardened peaks. You shudder for him and grind harder into his lap, legs trembling, your nails digging into his arm.

“What d’you need, my girl?” 

Your only answer is a low whine. “I need you in me.”  

Grasping your knee from behind, he lifts your leg just enough to wedge his hips properly... ‘like this, you want me just like this’ ...and it’s effortless. He drags through your whimpers, through the haze of his own blurry desperation, burying himself into your slick heat all at once. When he reaches the hilt, you gasp high and tight, the stretch fucking divine. 

He groans through a string of filthy curses, low and needy and breathless through gritted teeth, ‘this what you want, just like this?’ A delicious ache burning deep in his stomach, he stills, waiting for you to breathe again. ‘...good girl, y-es,’ he hushes against your neck, ‘...relax for me.’

There is no more room for him to move but slowly, somehow, he still manages to rock into you, continues to gush praise into your hair, easing your leg down on his, ‘so fucking good for me,’  keeping you anchored, close and unmoving.

Your grip on his cock is intoxicating, nothing could ever come close. Buried deep in you is the only place he feels truly weightless. 

It’s a heady thing, the way you claim him, the way you light up when he walks in the door, how much you trust him, how much you care for him. It takes his breath away.  Erases every fear he’s ever had and every worry yet to come. 

Snug in your bed like this, forever is a real thing. 

//

Shielding you from the cold room, you’re both on the edge of sleep again when it occurs to him and he smiles. “You never answered my question, sweetheart.” 

You inhale with a soft contented sound, burying deeper underneath his arm.

“On my wrist.” Your drowsy slurred voice makes his heart swoon. 

“I want everyone that sees it, to know who I belong to.”

His arm tightens around your waist.

~~

TO BE CONTINUED...! HOPEFULLY :)

thank you so much for reading! I would love to know what you think of this! if you’ve every left me a comment on anything i’ve written -please know i’ve never forgotten it xx

perm taglist: @opheliaelysia @oldstuffnewstuff @sistasarah-sallysaidso @fromthedeskoftheraven @hiscyarika @oloreaa @punkpascal @wickedfrsgrl @b0n-chann @buckstaposition @mstgsmy @the-wishmonger @givemethatgold @cinewhore @ksgeekgirl @princessxkenobi @getinthepoolkeanu @paintballkid711 @yespolkadotkitty @pedropascalito @randomness501 @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @dearspacepirates @jaime1110 @chews-erotically @this-cat-is-dea @cryptkeepersoul @findhimfives

din djarin tag: @tiffdawg 

@seawhisperer deserves all the pancakes in the fcking world for tolerating my incoherent messages at all hours of the night and her endless supply of inspiration xx

If anyone is interested, you can use this link to add or remove yourself from my tag list :)

[doctorofmagic]

My thoughts on What If... Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The very title of the episode sends a shiver down my spine. And this is where we’re going to start.

~ long post under the cut ~

A year ago, I wrote this post as an attemp to dive into one of the most important traits in Doctor Strange’s personality: love. Stephen is a being made of love, made to love, no matter which interpretation you have when you watch Infinity War. If you don’t read comic books, you’ll understand the moment you meet Donna. You’ll begin to understand how her death reshaped his entire subjectivity out of fear of failing, being powerless and unable to control everything around him (especially death), thus the arrogant and yet a disaster of a man we all know.

Where do I even start? Stephen loved her sister deeply and felt responsible for her death. And then, slowly, he also lost his parents and his brother. He fell in love with Clea but he also pushed her away. He loved Zelma platonically and lied to her, which was enough for them to break their bond. He felt attracted to Kanna but screwed things up, even though they remain friends. He was forced to kill the Ancient One, the only father figure he had ever since his father died. And lastly, the only person who would never leave his side... also left. Yes, even Wong. Stephen has SO much love to give but he’s also afraid because he’s cursed. He truly believes his love in poison. And would you look at that? What If really delivered a story where this is actually true.

What If Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The level of understanding when it comes to the character is... inconceivable. What could possibly reshape Stephen into following a dark path but love? The very premise of the whole episode. This is so much more than a love letter. This is literally too much, in all senses.

Fine, let’s begin.

What if the best of intentions has very strange consequences?

No. You used the word “strange” for the pun but this is not the word. Nah-ah. I’d go with ATROCIOUS, for starters. Things are gonna escalate so quickly, my friends.

Seriously, tho? Christine is SO SO SO SO beautiful, they’re so cute together. I have this feeling that MCU!Stephen was quite toxic because of his arrogance and this is why they didn’t work out. But WhatIf!Stephen???????? He’s always praising her, teasing her in a healthy way, respecting her and listening to her. HE TRULY LOVES HER, I’M GONNA CRY ALL OVER AGAIN, PLEASE, NOT THE CRÈME BRÛLÉE, PLEASE

I’m going to leave this shot here because we need to go back to it later. Hold that thought.

And bonus points to “Yeah, well, I would call that quite remarkable.” / “Well, I would say the same about you.”

GODS. THE PAIN. STOP THE PAIN.

So in this reality, Stephen didn’t caused the car accident because he was checking his phone while driving. Also it was not the reckless attempt to pass the truck. Well, maybe it was the consequence of this act? The fact is, the car behind them loses control, which makes them crash. Does it matter? We’ll learn later that no, it doesn’t.

And yep... Christine dies. Have you noticed the shattered heart? Ah, the pain only gets better and better.

Again, Stephen blames himself. More than anything, this is so important because Stephen is all about guilt. We still need to meet Donna so we can add yet another layer of guilt. But the feeling exists. This is what corrupts Stephen’s heart and soul in all his iterations. This is what makes him the character I love so much. I love this SO. MUCH. In addition, his stubbornness to accept his condition. Man won’t take a no. This, this is Doctor Strange in character. Stop complaining about NWH Stephen, it’s pathetic.

Okay, “grief-stricken”, Stephen found the Mystic Arts and became a sorcerer. That’s when he learned about the Time Stone, the Eye of Agamotto and Dormammu. Nothing changes, he saves the universe. But time does not heal his deepest wound.

I love Wong so much. Every time Wong does something, the world is healed. Really. We’re going back to him as well but for now I’ll just leave this shot.

BUT STEPHEN, DOING SOMETHING RECKLESS? HE’D NEVAH

Aaaaaaaannnnnnd then he did.

He goes back in time. It’s been two years since he lost Christine. I think he reacted pretty nicely, despite the circumstances. Now let’s go back to that shot I said I was saving for later.

Stephen is so light-hearted here. Also, during the first time he lost Christine, he had no idea what “The Price is Right” was. He knows now, which means he probably tried to learn more about the show because of her, because of grief. HAHAHA MORE PAIN

AND THEN HE

AND THEN SHE DIES AGAIN

AND THEN HE KEEPS GOING BACK IN TIME

AND SHE KEEPS DYING

AND THE MUSIC

AND HIS VOICE

AND HE TRIES TO CHANGE FATE BUT IT CAN’T BE AVERTED

HE EVEN TRIES TO STAY AWAY FROM HER LIFE BUT SHE DIES ALL THE SAME, WHY

AND EVERY TIME THEY CRASH, HE FEELS THE PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL PAIN AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN, WHY

I’M-- *ugly sobbing noises*

Apparently, not.

And this scene when he simply... closes his eyes before she dies again...?

This is where this episode had me in endless tears. It got me the four times I watched it. I’m dead serious.

Okay, so, next the Ancient One appears to Stephen, explaining that Christine’s death is an Absolute Point in time. It cannot be changed. Stephen needs the accident to become the Sorcerer Supreme and defeat Dormammu.

And this is where Stephen starts his journey into darkness. “Nothing is impossible, you taught me that. I only require more power.” Disobeying the Ancient One, Stephen then travels in time, seeking the Library of Cagliostro. Now, if you’re not aware of that, Cagliostro was a sorcerer who studied time in comics, and later became Sise-Neg (there’s a recent post on this because of the new Defenders run). It’s funny to think that Sise-Neg also destroyed the world when he became a god, however he grew past his pettiness and remade reality. Stephen did not possess such power, as we’re about to see.

PS: “Stop torturing yourself, Stephen.” Naur but he should use this line like a mantra. Especially comics!Stephen.

Not gonna lie, tho. This place reminds me of the Temple of the Vishanti from T&T (of course I was going to insert T&T somewhere, it’s me).

And of course they’d go for a pun with his name haha. I don’t know how to feel about this, tho. I feel like the episode is too heavy and dark for comedy. But it is what it is.

Okay but why some books are in cages??????????? And wow, it seems Cagliostro also gathered knowledge about several fields of magic.

And then Stephen learns that, in order to break an Absolute Point, he needs to absorb more power. This is when I went “oh-oh, here we go”.

And for real, is this Shuma-Gorath? Why are they keeping his name a secret? Is this the same creature from the first episode with Captain Carter, right? RIGHT? It has to be Shuma-Gorath.

Of course he tries to be polite and ends up all hurt haha. O’Bengh warns him about love but he will not listen. “Love can break more than your heart. It can shatter your mind.”/ “Is she worth the pain?”. Please, this is Stephen. He eats pain for breakfast.

Also, also, let’s take a break. We’re finally going to get monsterf0cker tentacle-lover Stephen Strange. It will cost us everything but here we goooooooooooo (yes, I went frame by frame for your more obscure fanservice needs)

Gods, I love this sequence so much it hurts. Okay, here we go.

Shmebulock???????????

AND HE STOLE THE CAPE??????????? AND DREW THE LINE ON BUGS??????

The grasp this man is holding on me right now...

Some of you will understand. I’m with you.

And here are the grostesque ones. These are hard to take SS but I had to.

Animation, sound effects, OST? CHEF’S KISS TO ALL

And lastly... the tentacles. Yeah, if you’re new... this is a thing.

Fanservice. Fanservice everywhere. (low-key the reason I also waited to write this review, I wanted to enjoy this part so badly but I was too sad for that lmao)

Okay so. O’Bengh is suddenly OLD and DYING, until we realize that Stephen spent CENTURIES absorbing mystic beings. CENTURIES. WTF STEPHEN. He had nothing in mind but the goal to save Christine. And people wonder why he went insane???? I’m sorry, O’Bengh, but I can’t take you serious when you still call Stephen Sorcerer Armani. Oh, and also because you watched him absorb beings for centuries in silence lmao. But I guess I have to because you said that Stephen is split in two since the Ancient One cast a spell on him, splitting the timelines and making them exist in the same reality before he could travel back in time. I know, it’s complex. Anything for the plot.

And now good!Stephen has an evil!twin who wants to absorb him back in order to become whole and break the Absolute Point. Cool.

I said I wanted to talk more about Wong because I think people are not talking about him enough. Wong is so important in this episode. He’s the one who’s trying to heal Stephen after Christine. He’s Stephen’s anchor.

Also, THEY FINALLY USED A SPELL WITH THE NAME OF THE VISHANTI. HOORAAAAY

So, for the sake of our understanding, I’m addressing the characters as evil and good!Stephen. Let’s go. Evil!Stephen summons good!Stephen and gods, he still holds such a strong grasp on me... unbelievable. THE DEEPER VOICE BENEDICT USES???? PLEASE, DIDN’T WE HAVE ENOUGH?

Imagine his strength to hold so many beings inside him, fighting to control him. BRO, THIS IS TOO TOO MUCH

Fine, I’ll not post SS about the fight because I’d be here all night long but I WILL say this: NOT CLOAKIE!!!!! NAAAAAAAAAAUR

Also if you ask me if I recognize any of the spells? Maaaaybe the Flames of Faltine, the not-so-crimson Bands of Cyttorak and a little trick Magik does with her portals. That’s how far I go.

I’ll not comment on the “seducing yourself to stay in the trap”. I will not. I’ll just say that the first person Stephen thought of when “Christine” was talking about the crème brûlée was Wong. That’s it.

And finally evil!Stephen absorbs good!Stephen and releases... UNLIMITED POWER (I love when the stone goes red as if it was bleeding aaaaaaa)

I can fix him...

This scene here? Poetic cinema. (I love his wings so much)

And when Stephen says her name and the other monsters’ voices echo “Christine”, AAAAAACKKKK

AND OF COURSE CHRISTINE WOULD FREAK OUT, BRO. LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE BECOME BECAUSE OF YOUR TWISTED LOVE. I’M NOT DOING FINE.

Oh, but it’s too late anyways because Stephen broke reality haha. This scene is interesting because Stephen is the only one who sensed and/or talked to the Watcher until now. I read an interview that the Watcher kinda showed up but it’s also about Stephen’s keen senses. Bit of both, let’s say. Still, man, 616-Watcher is not that cold. 616-Watcher would watch this and say “how about I intervene anyway?”. WhatIf!Watcher is brutal.

The way Christine looks at Stephen one last time also KILLS ME, DESTROYS ME, BREAK ME INTO A MILLION PIECES.

And this is where my soul left my body.

This is how they end the episode. This is how you leave me speechless and with teary eyes. This is how you give me a whole existential crisis.

This... this was brutal to watch. Really.

What can I say after this? I’m used to reading painful things when it comes to Stephen. Aaron’s and Cates’ runs are heartbreaking on so many levels. Hickman’s New Avengers is not easier. Coincidentally, What If? Magik Became Sorcerer Supreme and The End. And now Death of Doctor Strange. And yet, after everything I’ve been through, I’d never expect to watch something so brilliant, so tragic, so heartbreaking and unexpected in the MCU. Never. This is top tier content and this is my favorite character with SO MANY LAYERS and SO MUCH UNDERSTANDING. I can’t put into words how meaningful this whole episode is to me, or how deep it touched my heart and soul.

I’ve been struggling to find the proper words since then, I still can’t. All I can add is, I cried for the 4th time now. This is too, too much, even for Stephen stans. Even for the ones who are used to pain, regardless of which media you’re into: comic books, live actions or animated movies. This is literally more than I can take and yet I’m so, so grateful. The voice acting, gods, how did Benedict manage to create a better Stephen than the one he’s literally playing in real life???????????? HOW

This episode really took the max potential Stephen had to offer as a character, added tons and tons of layers based on his grief, depression, arrogance and need to control everything and created a tragic masterpiece. In 7 years of being a Doctor Strange fan, I've never read or watch something that could go this deep into the character. The closest I can think of is Mr. Misery and the metaphor of Stephen's depression. This is a whole new level of respect and understanding. This is more than a love letter. This is peak maestry. It’s perfect, it’s heartbreaking, it’s... gods, I can’t.

Sorry for dragging you until this far. Before I wrap up this review, I just wanted to remind you all that Stephen will appear again, he will smile again, he will be surrounded by people again. So this is not the end. It was painful but be brave. We still have a few more steps to take.

[daydreamed-snippets]

TW: Graves. Claustrophobia. Panic Attacks

The first thing the hero was aware of was the sound of their own breathing. 

Measured, shallow, slowly inhaling, and exhaling in the quiet. They breathed in, noting that they were on their stomach and that their ribs expanded unencumbered. Good. That meant there weren’t any ropes securing their arms to their body. That was a small victory in itself.

Still, sound was of little consequence to the hero if they couldn’t see anything. Their power depended on sight, on the ability to stare down a target, and the dilation of irises to push illusions into the target’s mind. With no light and no line of sight, the hero was effectively powerless. Left with a handful of acrobatic tricks, and the uncanny ability to run like hell when things got too hairy. 

Use what you got. 

They could almost hear their cousin’s voice in their head, berating them with that parental tone they carry. You call yourself a hero, for godssake, you can’t always rely on your powers. Improvise.

So the hero curled their fingers against the floor, fingernails scraping across the wood. Ok, maybe they were in a closet, or a crate, or box of some kind. The air was stale, unmoving, and humid. The darkness was oppressive not even the faintest sliver of light to be seen. Defiantly more of a crate than a closet, or else, they surmised, they would be able to see the seam of the door. And the air would be cleaner.

They guessed the supervillain didn’t think them a threat in total darkness, powerless and dazed. Not when the hero was stupid enough to underestimate them as they did. Sneaking into their compound, the hero assumed the element of surprise was on their side. All they had to do was find the server room, and plug in a drive that carried a virus strong enough to crash the supervillain’s whole system. Wiping out the computer’s memory completely. Just slip in and out without anyone knowing. Even if they were caught, they had reasoned arrogantly, all they needed to do was ensnare the supervillain’s gaze, trapping them in a hellish landscape.

They couldn’t realize it then but it was a stupid and reckless idea. They didn’t account for the level of security they encountered in the compound, nor how quickly and how many henchmen showed up when the alarm was tripped. They certainly hadn’t planned much of an exit strategy. The hero just saw red when it came to the supervillain. And when they became surrounded they knew it was impossible to hold everyone’s gaze. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

So the supervillain threw them in a box to rot… or to torture later. 

They tried not to let that crowd their mind as they moved on to other observations, letting out a long, sharp breath through their teeth, frustration evident. But they couldn’t shake the thought that this showed just how green they were to the field of heroics. Only a novice when you looked at the big picture, what an idiotic kid caught up in the…

That trail of thought stopped when they felt their breath blow back on their face like they were mere inches from something. Air caught in their throat. Suddenly they were keenly aware of a consistent rising and falling beneath them that they didn’t notice before. Something solid and soft and nice. They were on someone; their face planted in the crook of a neck. 

The person moved and the pleasantness of warm skin brushed against their nose. 

“Try not to move too much,” the person said, strong fingers tracing up their side in a tantalizing touch. 

A transient moment washed over the hero. Their body going instantly ridged like a deer caught in headlights. Flattening their palms on what they imagined was either side of the person’s head, the hero shot upwards rising several inches before they butted their head against a wooden ceiling. 

“What the hell?!”

“I did say try not to move too much,” the voice came again, the inflection rich, vibrant, and horrifyingly familiar. “Steady your breathing. In my estimation, we don’t have much oxygen left.”

No. 

Gods no. 

They remembered that voice all too well. It often called to them in the catacombs of the city’s slums, laughing when they stumbled over their own budding abilities. Teased when the hero was forced to retreat. Mocked them for shivering under the villain’s frigid powers, like a little whelp left out in the cold, they would say. 

The villain had said a lot of things to them amid battle in a voice as slick and as icy as their capabilities. 

“Wh-what is this? What’s going on?” Arms shaking, the hero forced themselves to perform an awkward plank, elbows bent, rising on their toes so that their body wasn’t touching the villain.

“Isn’t it obvious?” came the courtly reply, and the hero could imagine a sardonic smile play across the villain’s lips. “We’ve been buried alive together.”

Blood drained from their face at those words. No wonder the air felt stagnant and hot. No wonder their breath was shallow, quickly becoming labored. It felt like a weight slammed into their heart and their stomach flopped, threatening to overturn. 

“No. No,” they gasped, unable to catch their breath. “H-how do you know?”

“You’re a heavy sleeper, do you know that?” The villain asked it like it was the most curious thing at the moment. “I woke up shortly after they lowered this makeshift coffin into the ground. I could hear them toss dirt onto it. Luckily this wood is flimsy enough. I managed to put a small hole in the lid with my shoe before you roused.”

Oh.

They just bumped their head on the lid of the coffin they were buried in. 

They just bumped their head on the lid of the coffin they were buried in. 

The villain’s words soaked into their soul, stirring up an unknown and until now dormant phobia. They were buried alive with the villain with no way out, and only minutes of oxygen left. Seconds even. They could feel the CO2 building up, stifling their lungs. Walls pressing in on them. This coffin wasn’t meant for two people, it wasn’t big enough, there wasn’t enough room.

It can’t end like this. 

The hero had only taken the Covenant’s oath months ago. They weren’t really supposed to be an official hero yet. Their request to be recognized as one was a desperate attempt to stop the supervillain’s rampant crime spree in a part of the city the Commissioner didn’t give a shit about. Their training had been pushed off, their commencement a letter in the mail. They hadn’t even stepped foot on the top level of the city yet.

They need to get out. 

 “No, no, no, no, no, no. This can’t—” they rasped, choking.

“I did not say that to make you panic, little gorgon,” the villain said, taunting and saccharine and smooth. Why so smooth? They were going to die here too, didn’t they see that? “Pattern your breathing. You will use up more oxygen if you panic.”

How could the villain be so damn calm? Both of them were in over their heads. Literally. This was it. The hero would die here, in the arms of their enemy no less.

They couldn’t get a breath.

“What are you doing?” the villain asked, perceiving the hero’s rising panic as they dropped their head, forehead pressed against the villain’s chest.

“I can’t, I can’t breathe! It’s too—I can’t—”

“Yes you can, settle your nerves. You’re hyperventilating and that will use up all of our oxygen before we have a chance to think. Listen to the sound of my voice. Breathe when I do.”

No, they couldn’t. It was too hot. They were sweating. Burning up. They were in the pit of hell and there was no possible way they could force air into their lungs. They were going to vomit and suffocate, their descent into death was going to be painful. 

Their hands flew to their collar, pulling frantically at the material that hung around their neck. It was constricting. Tightening like a snake. Moving to strangle them. The hero’s elbows dug into the villain’s sides, earning a swift groan.

“You need to listen to me,” the villain said, but they didn’t. They couldn’t. They needed to get some air, they needed to get their shirt off. They were going to die if they didn’t. They clawed at the fabric, ripping it. It was too hot. It was— 

“I’m going to touch you now.”

Deliciously cold hands skimmed over the base of their neck, pushing back their shirt so skin met skin. A gentle grip pulled the hero’s head up, exposing their throat, sending the hero’s hand skittering away tasked again with the job of holding themselves up. The villain blew out a brisk wind, and the temperature cooled in the coffin considerably. The hero no longer wanted to scratch at their uniform. 

“Lay your hand flat against my chest,” the villain commanded. “Put your weight on me.” 

“What? No…”

“Just do it,” their voice held a different kind of ice to it. The mocking tone is gone. “Trust me for once. Our lives depend on it.”

The hero complied. 

“Marvelous,” the villain murmured. “Now, inhale when you feel my chest rise. Exhale when I do.”

Beneath their palm, the hero could feel the quickened beats of the villain’s heart, contrary to their serene words. They were anxious too, but the villain still kept their breath steady. Their heartbeat being the only tell that anything was amiss. For some reason that made the hero feel better, and they relaxed a bit.

“Hearken to my voice. Breathe in through your nose, fill your lungs until you can’t inhale anymore. Hold it as I do,” the villain said, demonstrating. “Then let it out through parted lips.” 

The hero acquiesced. 

When the villain took a deep breath, the hero mimicked it. When the villain exhaled, the hero did the same. They attuned themselves to the villain, resonated with them. Pushing everything out of their mind except for their placement on the body beneath them. The villain might as well have been a beacon of light in the darkness of that coffin. It blinded the hero as if they could see, brows furrowing at the villain’s nearness, eyes tightly shut. Obeying their voice, focusing on them until there was nothing outside of that sole moment. They became too aware. The villain couldn’t move a muscle without the hero being painfully attentive to how broad their shoulders were, how their ribs flared out, and how their waist tapered to narrow hips. They smelled like sweat and dirt, and some strong earthy soap. Intoxicating. 

Slowly, they guided the hero’s head back to their neck. The two resting comfortably as they did before. “You’re doing lovely. That’s right. Nice even breaths,” they praised, hands leaving the hero’s neck to stroke long fingers through their hair, driving shivers down their spine with a gentle touch. “Can you talk now?”

The hero’s heart ricocheted. They fought once again to get it under control. They hesitantly said, “yes.”

“What were you doing in the supervillain’s compound?”

“How did you?” the hero swallowed, breathing quickening. A cool hand was at the nape of their neck again, calming them. “How did you know I was there?”

They felt them smile against their forehead. “I had my suspicions, unconfirmed as they were, but the way your breathing has changed just now is telling me everything I need to know. Maybe we should do this more often. Cuddle, I mean. I may just uncover all of your secrets this way.”

The hero was silent. They didn’t trust any reply they gave not to have a squeak in it.

“It was a joke,” the villain said, ambivalent, conveying anything but. “You’ll have to admit this brings new meaning to ‘lying with the enemy’.”

They licked their lips, voice horse. “It’s sleeping,” the hero said in a whisper earning a questioning hum from the villain. “It’s sleeping with the enemy.”

“Now there’s a thought.”

Hating the blush that crept up to their neck, the hero decided it was wise to go back to the question at hand. “I, uh, broke into the supervillain’s compound. I tried to upload a virus to their computer. It didn’t work. I was caught. I ended up here.” Duh, the last part was a no-brainer. Their mind stumbled on. “How, umm, why did the supervillain put you in here? I thought you worked together.”

“We did, but we disagreed on certain matters,” they said in a careful voice. This was the first time the hero was aware of it. They shift their head, wanting more. Obligingly, the villain continued. “I assume you found out that the supervillain has been experimenting on the people in the slums as I did. That part of the compound was hidden away from me. I had no idea how many bodies the supervillain had piled up back there. My discovery angered them, and I can only assume their best revenge was to bury me in here with you.” The villain shifted, getting comfortable. “Perchance they thought we’d kill each other in here. It would have been an effective torture.”

“Why didn’t you kill me? You said that you were awake before me. Why not strangle me in my sleep?”

“I needed you alive, little gorgon, not even I can escape this tomb alone.” The villain’s hands came back, stroking as they went. “And I wanted you to trust me. I know our past is...complex, but it doesn’t have to be like that. We can start anew if you want to do that.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“I imagine you want to live, no?” The light teasing in their voice was back. “Well then, we must move now.” The petting stopped, and the hero missed it, much to their chagrin. They shouldn’t get used to this. The villain was still the villain after all. Even though they did help them calm down, diverting a catastrophe. 

The hero could feel the villain tense beneath them as they reached up towards the coffin’s lid and pushed. “We are going to punch and kick our way through the top of the coffin. As I said, I couldn’t do much on my own with your body weighing me down, but if you work with me, we may be able to break the lid.”

“How?”

“You’ll turn around in a moment, and push your legs upward when I kick. We’ll both lift the lid once it starts separating from the rest of the coffin. That’s step two. Once the top of the coffin breaks, the soil will start pouring in. We will need to push the dirt down to our feet. More will pour in and we will do the same with it until this coffin is full and you can sit up. Since it’s a newly filled grave, the dirt hasn’t had time to settle and harden. It will be strenuous, hero, but feasible.” 

The villain paused. “I am going to unzip your outfit,” they said after a moment. Chilly gradually brushed down towards their chest fumbling with the location of the hero’s zipper. “Lift up for me.” The hero found that they obeyed almost immediately. They stopped themselves midway.

“Why?”

“This is step one. We will need to cover our faces with our clothing so we don’t suffocate while attempting to rise from this grave,” the villain explained, calmly, like it was a simple thing. Except the hero was wearing a jumpsuit. An onesie. Not Covenant issued, but something similar. Their cousin and some neighbors pulled their money together and had gotten the hero an upgrade when they had received the commencement letter. They were ecstatic at the time. Now they regretted it. Nevertheless, the villain’s fingers made deft work, drawing the uniform from the hero’s shoulders and shimming the one-piece down their legs, allowing the hero to kick out of it. 

“Now do the same to me.” 

Luckily the villain wore a simple jacket, with a side zipper and a light shirt underneath. The hero didn’t have to fumble much in the dark, though they did have to scoot down, back scrapping against the top as their chin rested on the villain’s stomach just to get the jacket off. With how cold the villain's hands were, it was a wonder they weren’t making comments about how hot the hero’s face was. The hero was sure they were entirely red by now.

Pushing that out of their mind the hero grabbed their abandoned uniform and placed it in the hands of the villain who wrapped it around the hero's face. The hero did the same with the jacket to the villain.

“You’re going to turn, and on the count of three we are going to kick,” the villain said loudly, voice muffled. The hero turned and braced their legs against the lid. Counting in their ear, the villain brought their legs up against the lid. Again and again and again until the wood split, and dirt tumbled in. The hero worked to push most of it down. They punched the lid, channeling their anxiety and their anger into their fists, hands breaking on the wood, blood flowing from cracked knuckles. Hands on their back pushed them, and the hero wrestled to sit up, fighting against the weight of the dirt. Fighting to cheat death. The claustrophobia was almost too much to bear, any moment feeling like they would succumb again.

They broke the surface. 

Clawing at the ground they lifted themselves out with the last of their strength, ripping their uniform from their face, collapsing on the ground mere feet from the grave. The villain followed soon after, comparable to a zombie from a crypt. For a long while neither budged, breathing deeply, staring at the morning sky. 

But soon somebody did move. They were always the first to move. This time, crawling over to the hero, wildly panting. The villain was covered in dirt, hair mused and blood dripping from cuts on their legs—but their eyes. Those eyes were iced, intense, dissecting the hero’s alive. 

With a fright, the hero realized that their mask was removed when they yanked off their uniform. They were exposed, identity laid bare, and in nothing but their undergarments no less. They turned their head, hiding their face in shadows cast by the dawn.

Tsking, the villain’s cold hand shot out, seizing their chin, maneuvering their head the way they please so that their face was turned towards dayspring. “None of that. Not when we’ve been so intimately acquainted,” they said, a honeyed inflection. “Now I get to see the face behind the mask.” They smiled, admiring how the hero’s eyes widened in fright. “I didn’t expect you to be so fetching for a vagrant playing the hero. You always did run away whenever our battles went poorly for you. I’ve never gotten a glimpse before.” 

Drawing themselves up to their knees, the villain loomed over them, bringing both hands to cup their face. Something in their eyes gave the hero chills, all instances of compassion and kindness gone. Replaced by a sick kind of affection. 

Improvise!

Defiantly, the hero raised their chin, staring bolding at the villain’s eyes, willing their powers to trap the bastard in a nightmare. To keep them from doing whatever it was that swept through their villainous mind. 

But nothing happened. They were too weak to call upon their power. Shaking, exhausted, both hands laid useless at their side, crippled. The pain of their knuckles screamed at them, needing attention, needing an outlet. The hero mewled feebly, a single tear streaking down their cheek as the villain’s hand wrapping around the hero’s nose and mouth. They clamped down cutting off the hero’s air supply.

“While I would love to say it’s nothing personal,” the villain said quelling the hero’s jolts and jerks as the latter’s eyes drifted closed after a violent struggle, body going lax in their hands. “That wouldn’t be the least bit true, would it?” 

Scooping the hero in a bridal style, mindful of their broken hands, the villain looked towards the skyline, chuckling. “I’ve had my eye on you since you started sniffing around into our little operation, gorgon. Though the method could have been different, it was nice of the supervillain to drop you in my lap so to speak. And I’m not one to waste this golden opportunity to take you to my lab and slice you up bit by bit. I will make sure to take detailed notes. I’ve never experimented on a hero before.”

[volturiwolf]

The Volturi Princess - A Felix Volturi x fem!Reader Story (part 5)

A/N: That is the second part I'm uploading at the same time as part 4 because it will probably take me a lot more time to upload the next parts.

No of Words: 4300+

Mentions of: Abandonment, Abortion, Anxiety, Blood, Bruises, Coma/Comatosed State, Death Emotional Abuse, Emotional and Physical Pain, Gaslighting, Greece/Greek Language - with translation, Heartbreak, Italian Language - with translation, Manipulation, Murder, Pain, Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Suffering, Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts, Swear Language, Throwing Up/Puking, Witches/Wizards/Witchcraft

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“The Volturi Princess ” Tag List (reply if you want to be tagged or removed):

@felixvolturisprincess @singerj2002 @mrtony-stank1 @ikissedthescarsonherskin @alecvolturiswifeforever @hshehdyhd @kpopgirlbtssvt @eunoia-kth @iilsenewman

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Felix’s POV:

It’s been about seven months since I woke up and (Y/N) fell asleep - I refused to acknowledge that she may not wake up. I preferred to tell myself that she was taking a long nap, just as she used to do before she left Volterra. I was telling myself again and again that she was sleeping, so much so that I almost started believing it.

When (Y/N) sacrificed her blood to save me, I couldn’t stop myself from almost draining her before Chelsea finally managed to take her away from me. When I realized that it was (Y/N)’s blood the one I consumed, I staggered back and forth as if I was trying to wake up from a bad dream. Her blood always “spoke” to me - la mia cantante - and when I got the chance to taste her, I couldn’t stop myself.

Now, she was in a comatose state, pale and weakened. She was still held in the dungeons, although she was taken care of, due to her current state. Chelsea informed me regarding what happened when I was unconscious.

(Y/N) was the one who carried me all the way back to Volterra, and she was forced to spend her time in the dungeons as a punishment for her “recklessness”, and Afton and Chelsea were guarding her. She was only allowed human food, which, of course, would have weakened her body!

Even as a part-vampire, part-human, she still needed blood to survive, to keep her strong. But, I guessed that was exactly what Aro would want to avoid; he wanted to keep her weak and powerless.

I tried once to force her to drink blood that I collected from some humans but she wouldn’t keep the blood in her mouth, let alone swallow it down. So, that plan was aborted and I couldn’t think of any other way to help her.

It had been a few days since I had last seen her. Aro forbade me from seeing her until Carlisle arrived, and even then, there was only a slight possibility I would be allowed to visit her. All I could do was wait.

Yet again, I thought it was unfair for (Y/N) to get punished. It wasn’t her who attacked me, it was her father. But it was only clear that Aro didn’t care as much about my physical state, as he cared about punishing (Y/N) for leaving Volterra, traveling the world, and finding her parents.

If it wasn’t for Aro and the obligation I felt towards him and the rest of the Volturi for taking me in and turning me into a vampire, I swear I would gladly take (Y/N) away from here. I couldn’t abandon my friends though, and I knew none of them would be willing to come with me. They had all built their loyalty towards the Kings due to Chelsea’s gifts, and Chelsea was pleased with this life due to Corin’s gift.

It was basically a cycle, where they all depended on the two of them to keep the balance and the bonds within the members of the coven. And, as much as I didn’t want to admit it, though my mate bond with (Y/N) was strong and powerful, I felt my bond with the coven and the Kings being reinforced day after day.

Days and nights were passing with no news from (Y/N) or the Twins. I was spending most of my time in my room, as there was nothing to do in particular - there was no new mission and everyone else seemed to be engaged in their own thing. Apart from Chelsea and Demetri who took care of (Y/N) or visited me to make sure I was okay, nothing seemed to have changed for everyone else.

A knock on the door broke the silence. Demetri. He came into my room without waiting for a response, which was not always something he did. His face seemed anxious, and I knew something was going on.

“They are here” was the only thing he managed to say before I jumped out of the bed and passed by him quickly, running out of the door, towards the dungeons. I was met with the Twins standing outside of (Y/N)’s temporary room. Carlisle was in the room with (Y/N) and Chelsea. I wanted to go in, to make sure he took care of my love, but the Twins stopped me in my tracks.

“We don’t know what will happen yet. Don’t go in there.” Jane spoke first. “We talked to Carlisle about her situation. He’ll try to do whatever he can.”

“You know that’s not enough.” I growled at her.

“It’s the best we have. Now, Felix, stay back or I will take away all of your senses until Carlisle leaves.” Alec warned me and the only thing I could do at the moment was to be quiet and wait for the doctor to inform us of (Y/N)’s situation. I could clearly hear them from the inside of her room.

“She has lost a lot of blood. How long has she been like this?” Carlisle asked Chelsea.

“About seven months now. We waited almost a month, just to see if she would wake up before Aro sent the Twins to come to find you.” Chelsea informed him.

“I see. Well, her heart is quite weakened. Was she..you know..physically capable before..the incident? Did she feed?” I knew Carlisle was implying if she was able to consume blood before she gave hers for me.

“No.” Chelsea sounded saddened. “She was “serving” her penalty. Aro would only allow us to serve her human food. She was already getting weak before that, and when Felix was unconscious, she was getting worse. I could feel their bond getting all over the place, and I consulted Marcus. He said that for (Y/N), knowing Felix wasn’t okay, was probably why she was draining, mentally and physically.”

I knew the bond was strong between mates, but I didn’t know it could have such an effect on (Y/N). I knew that Marcus was a total wreck from the moment he lost Didyme, but I had no idea how much it would affect (Y/N) in such a short period of time.

“We’ll have to fill her with blood. Have you tried feeding her somehow?”

“Felix has tried quite a few times to force her to feed but she couldn’t swallow the blood. It would fall right out of her mouth.”

“Right.” Carlisle sighed. “I’ll try to do something else, though I don’t know if it will work for her. As much as I don’t agree, I will need you to find me some humans. I will try to transfuse their blood to her. I will need some alcohol to sterile everything, some cotton, some needles, and some tubes. Could you find me some, Chelsea?”

“Yes, I will inform the Kings and the others as well.” Chelsea exited the room. “Demetri, can you stay with (Y/N)? Help Carlisle with whatever he needs. Jane, Alec, will you come with me, please? We have to inform Heidi as well.” The Twins nodded and they all ran upstairs, while Demetri entered (Y/N)’s room and closed the door behind him, leaving me outside, waiting.

It took some time, though not too long in vampire standards, for Chelsea and the Twins to come back with everything Carlisle needed. Santiago and Afton followed close behind, each one of them carrying two unconscious humans on their shoulders. They all entered (Y/N)’s room and then Santiago and Afton left.

I heard the alcohol rubbing against (Y/N)’s skin and then a human’s. I heard the needles piercing through their skin and then I smelled the blood. It was warm and welcoming, and I heard the vampires in their room trying to control their thirst; all except Carlisle, who had been training himself for years to abstain from human blood. He wanted to help people, something which I never quite understood, until now. Now, he was the only one who could help (Y/N).

A few moments passed in total silence.

“She seems to be reacting well enough to it. If it was any other human, they may have been dead by now.” I felt the general confusion in the room, just as much as Carlisle did.

“If it was any other human, we would have to test their blood type and the donor’s blood type, to see if they match. Unfortunately, there is no such method yet, to efficiently test this. So, it is a 50-50 chance that the patient receiving the blood may or may not die because of being the wrong match with the donor. However, (Y/N)’s body may be treating the blood solely as food, so it may not affect her in that way. However, she should be well-fed. The fact that she’s becoming better now cannot guarantee that she will wake up, but, at least, it will give her a boost of energy. Then, it all depends on her. I may have to stay a few days with her to see her progress if you don’t mind”.

“Of course, Carlisle, you’re welcome to stay as long as needed.” Jane took it upon her to reply. “I will inform the Masters but I think they’ll have no issue with that.”

“Thank you, Jane. I’ll now have to switch needles for the next transfusion. Let me know when the next..supplies will arrive.”

Carlisle certainly didn’t like the way we saw humans, as mere food, disposable, but that was our nature and we couldn’t go against it. Although Carlisle, feeding exclusively on animal blood, still seemed strong, capable, with a clear mind, and way better self-control than any of us did. Though, by now, we could control our thirst pretty well and only fed when we wanted, though it still wasn’t as easy to stand close to humans, as it was for him.

In my whole life, I have never craved a human’s blood as much as I have (Y/N)’s, but our bond would not let me feed off of her; I felt sick at the mere thought of hurting her. And yet, here we were, not knowing if (Y/N) will wake up or not. I only blamed myself and my nature, though I couldn’t change what I was, what I was turned into. I could only hope that (Y/N) would eventually wake up.

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

Days were passing by, excruciatingly slow. I had nothing to do to keep my mind off of her, so I tried to spend most of my time outside of Volterra, in the woods, hunting or just running around to make the time pass as quickly as possible. Yet, it did not seem effective at all; I was left alone with my own thoughts, and (Y/N) was in all of them.

I struggled to remember my time in Greece when I saw her after all this time; my head was pounding every time I attempted to figure out what happened then. I could only vaguely remember when I asked her to go back home and then I passed out. Other than that, nothing but a blur. As if my memories were wiped or my brain was messed up with.

Carlisle stayed by (Y/N)’s side the majority of the time he was spending here, except for the few times he had to hunt or when he was invited by the Masters to discuss - we assumed their conversations included (Y/N)’s state, as well as his life and how he has been all these years, living as a “vegetarian” vampire, a term he used when comparing his diet to a vampire’s “regular” human blood-based one.

I still don’t know how he managed to survive and actually thrive on it, but I knew (Y/N) also started practicing this type of diet during and after Carlisle’s departure from Volterra all these years ago. She wouldn’t feed with us; if she was in the castle, she would eat human food, claiming she had “already satisfied her blood needs”. In reality, I did catch her hunting animals once or twice before, when I went out hunting humans, but I didn’t care about her diet; I wouldn’t judge her, as long as she was happy and healthy.

The absence of blood from her diet in general - courtesy of Aro, as her punishment - has deeply affected and weakened her. Thankfully, Carlisle’s presence forced Aro to follow his orders and allow (Y/N) to access blood. Carlisle must have gone through over 30 or 40 people during the period of a week, constantly transfusing blood to (Y/N), only leaving about 2 to 3 hours between each transfusion, to ensure her body acted positively and effectively to the blood fed to her.

I was helping along with Santiago and Afton to transfer the unconscious humans down to the dungeons; Heidi was attracting them as per usual, and sometimes, Demetri and I would go hunt them down at night, where most humans would be asleep.

It wasn’t an easy job - many humans had been infected by many different diseases, so their blood was also infected. Carlisle instructed us that the humans should be as “clean” and healthy as possible, as (Y/N)’s body would most likely not be able to fight a disease at that point. Usually, as vampires, we wouldn’t be affected by that; sure, the blood tasted pretty bad, but we could still consume it.

In (Y/N)’s case, Carlisle was treating her body like a human’s - fragile, mortal, disposable. The simplest bacteria could be fatal for her life at this point, so we could only hunt for humans where we knew the living conditions were a bit better than the general consensus.

I was currently sitting on a chair, at the furthest point of the library, going through some books (Y/N) used to love reading. Among others, it was Aristotle’s De Animalibus; Lascaris’ Grammatica Graeca, sive compendium octo orationis partium; Petrarcha’s Il Canzoniere; and Shakespeare's “First Folio”.

I always had trouble studying in Greek - or any other language, if I’m being honest, but both Demetri and (Y/N) attempted to help me multiple times. I had trouble studying with Demetri because he wasn’t (Y/N), and I had trouble studying with (Y/N) because she was herself; I couldn’t concentrate on studying when she was near me.

I missed that feeling. I just wished I could relive these moments when she was so close to me, I could practically feel her warmth. Truth be told, I always attempted to flirt with her, to come closer, to see if she could feel our bond, but she always dismissed my attempts.

“How are you holding on, my boy?” I didn’t realize someone was standing behind me, so I was startled. I turned around to see Marcus, his constantly sad face replaced by a worried look. “I know that you feel lost right now, I can sense it.” I couldn’t open my mouth to reply, I just looked down at my feet.

“I know how you feel. I, too, have been feeling like this for a long time now; lost, desperate, unable to do anything. When I lost my Didyme, I basically lost my whole world, my mind, my heart, my will to live. I’ve been wandering this planet aimlessly. Without her, nothing in this world ever made sense to me; she was the one who gave meaning to everything. I joined Aro because of her, and after she was gone, I was trapped in his ambitious plans and was never able to escape him. He wants me alive to help him in his causes, but all I want is my Didyme back.”

Marcus never spoke of his and Didyme’s relationship to anyone - it just hurt him too much to remember her.

“I should have saved her. We shouldn’t have told anyone we wanted to leave the Volturi. Sometimes, I can’t help but think that it was Aro behind everything, behind her death, behind me getting trapped here. I cannot prove it though, and I also don’t even want to think that he could do something so evil, so abominable as to kill his own sister because she...we wouldn’t agree with his plans.” Marcus looked skeptical and desperate; saying all these things that he had buried deep inside him for so long must have been painful for him.

I couldn’t help but think what could happen if (Y/N) never actually recovered. I would never recover from it either. I have already created an “unofficial” plan - I would actually abandon Volterra forever, I would try to take my own life, and if that didn’t work, I already knew plenty of enemies the Volturi have made over the years. They would “take care” of me, and I wouldn’t resist - I wouldn’t have a reason to exist, a reason to fight for.

“When the time comes for her to wake up, don’t waste any time. Nothing would matter without her, so don’t waste any time away from her. You both wasted a lot of time, not admitting your feelings to each other. Better start now, before it’s too late.”

And with that, Marcus turned and ran out of the library, leaving me in my own thoughts. I had to see her, right now. Without really thinking about it, I ran out of the library and towards the dungeons. I saw Afton guarding her door, and I heard Chelsea and Carlisle inside her room. Her heartbeat was a bit stronger compared to a few months ago, but still weaker than her usual heartbeat, which used to echo in a castle full of vampires.

I went towards the door, but Afton stopped me. “She just had her last transfusion for the day. Let her rest. You shouldn’t be here anyway.”

“I have to see my mate. You all have been keeping me in the dark all this time. I HAVE TO SEE HER NOW!” I demanded and pushed the door open, Afton not being able to stop me. Chelsea and Carlisle turned towards me. “I have to see her. Please.” They looked at each other and nodded at me.

“We will leave you two alone. Just be careful and gentle. Her body is still weak and fragile, so no screams from now on, okay?” Carlisle acted like the father she never really had. I whispered a small “okay”, and Chelsea and Carlisle left the room quietly.

I was finally left alone with her. I haven’t seen her in over a month, since Carlisle came to Volterra, and I haven’t been alone with her once, since before she left Volterra. I actually missed her so much, seeing her, talking with her. She had a brilliant mind, the result of eons of studying and reading books. I couldn’t bear seeing her like that, comatose, emotionless, weak - she wasn’t the (Y/N) I knew. She was what her parents and Aro made her be - weak, helpless, a pawn to their plans. I wanted to talk to her, even if she couldn’t hear me.

“Hey, amore mio, it’s me, Felix.” My voice was trembling. “I came to see you, I missed you so much, Principessa (princess). I wish I could hold you in my arms right now, but I’m afraid I would break you. I wish you would wake up, I wish I could see your beautiful eyes again. I wish I had told you how much I love you, how I have been loving you all these centuries that I’ve been here.”

I paused a bit. “I wish I could tell you that all I remember from my human life is when you found me and brought me here and that all I ever think about is about you. I don’t want to lose you. I wasted too much time away from you. When I had so many chances to be with you, I was afraid, I was scared I was never good enough for you. You deserve better than me, you deserve the world. You are full of potential and I never wanted you to waste your life away with me. I wanted you to be happy and free because I love you. I would never think of restricting you, of forcing you to stay here with me, if that wasn’t what you wanted, so I let you go. I wanted you to see the world that fascinated you so much. I wanted you to experience everything. Even if that meant you were away from me; even if that meant you would never come back.”

I took an unnecessary breath. “I wish you would protect yourself first; I didn’t want you to sacrifice your life for me. You are too precious for me to lose you. And I’m afraid I may be too late, but..I wanted you to know that it’s always been you, everything I did was for you. It wasn’t Chelsea’s gift or my devotion to the Kings that kept me here. It was you, I wanted to be with you, stay with you, protect you. You gave meaning to my meaningless, cold life. You made me see life from a different perspective, you made me see that life it’s worth living and fighting for if I have you by my side. Please, come back to me.”

My eyes were stinking with venom at this point; (Y/N)’s heart beat a bit faster than before; her skin shined a bit more than before. I smiled at her peaceful figure before I captured her face within my palms. I leaned forwards and placed a tender and passionate kiss on her lips.

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

(Y/N)’s POV:

I’ve felt like I’ve been living in the dark for quite some time now. I had no sense of where I was or how long I’ve been here - I stopped hearing voices, it was just the ultimate silence; a darkness I couldn’t see through, and a silence I couldn’t scream to. I didn’t even know how much time passed before I started hearing voices again. Was that Carlisle? And Chelsea? Chelsea actually stayed with me? After some time, I started feeling warmth and I could hear faint heartbeats, apart from my own.

Then, one day, Felix came to see me. I couldn’t see him or talk to him yet, but I could recognize him by his scent - to me, he always smelled like pinewood, sandalwood, cinnamon, and amber; his scent intoxicating and welcoming, it always gave me a sense of comfort and belonging.

He didn’t sit beside me on the bed. I could feel him standing beside the bed. His voice was trembling, though it sounded soft and caring. He told me all the things that I waited for centuries for him to say; to tell me that he loved me, just as I loved him all this time.

I felt something inside me break, something that kept me trapped here, and I felt my soul being lifted. I felt my heart beating faster, I felt like I could breathe, the weights that held me down being lifted off of me.

And then, he kissed me. It wasn’t like the small kiss he gave me last time; this kiss was full of passion and love, a kiss that could tell more than any word could ever do. I felt my soul reaching the surface, as I kissed him back, cupping his cheek with my hand. He stopped kissing me, and I opened my eyes, shedding tears that I kept inside for so long.

Felix was in shock, his face a few centimeters away from mine. I looked at him lovingly, as I stretched my hands to kiss him once again. He kissed me back, his hands settling on my waist, slowly lifting me off the bed and twirling me around, the bedsheets falling off of me. My heart beat faster than before, faster than it had ever had.

We were lost in our own world, his hands tightly hugging me, keeping me close to him. I finally was where my heart belonged. Our lips parted and I couldn’t stop staring deep into his black eyes, eyes full of love and lust. We stayed like this for a few minutes; Felix didn’t set me down just yet.

We heard the door open. There stood a shocked Demetri and an even more shocked Chelsea, followed by a shocked Jane and a shocked Alec. Felix finally set me down, and we turned to look at the four shocked vampires. I didn’t know it was possible for vampires to go into shock mode until I saw five in a span of a few minutes apart.

Chelsea was the first to come up to me and hug me tightly, followed by an even more enthusiastic Jane. Demetri and Alec waited for their turn and hugged me tightly, never letting me go. Thank Dia, I was partially a vampire, otherwise, they would literally crush my bones. Finally, they let me go but couldn’t keep their eyes off me, as if I would disappear in front of them if they didn’t. They pretty much couldn’t keep that thought off their minds.

“Guys, I’m not going anywhere. You can be sure about that.” I reassured each of them, smiling widely. “I understand you are all really concerned, but I'm okay now and I’m not going anywhere. I will not leave you.” I turned, looking up at Felix and smiling at him, him smiling back at me. I knew where my heart was now, and I would never let go of him.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

I’m Weak Too... ~ Bakugou Katsuki

Everyone who knew Bakugou Katsuki had tons of mixed opinions of him - Some thought he was rude, others that he was condescending or patronising, or even conceited and narcissistic, which wasn’t helped by how short-tempered and aggressive he usually was with everyone...But there was one thing that nobody could deny, and that was that his wit and strength were superior to most of the people his age, which is why he was ranked #1 in the U.A. Academy Entrance Exam, and got himself in class 1-A.

Bakugou Katsuki was a child prodigy.

But nobody ever cared enough to find out how he became this way, nor if he is alright.

Nobody saw how much Bakugou Katsuki was hurting, or maybe they were too afraid to even acknowledge that he was capable of feeling anything other than pride and lack of mercy for anyone who even us much as irritated him a little bit.

The only person who was stuck by his side like a parasite was that annoying Quirkless Deku, who was nothing more than a crybaby pest who managed to get himself a Quirk and through nothing more than sheer dumb luck, got in the same class as him.

How stupid.

There was however, another person in that class, who would always go out of their way to ask if he’s okay, would tell him dumb jokes or funny pick up lines, to try and get him to smile, and for the rest of the class, the actions of L/N Y/N were absolutely bouffonic, and she was writing herself a death sentence.

L/N Y/N was a bit of an odd one, someone that nobody could quite pinpoint...

She was strong, but she also wasn’t. She was smart, but she also wasn’t. She was popular, but she also wasn’t. She was sociable, but she also wasn’t.

L/N Y/N was nothing more than a walking, living, breathing paradox...

She was aloof, yet down to earth. She was goofy, yet serious. She was outgoing, yet timid. She was...

Hell knows what she was.

But Bakugou Katsuki knows what she is.

She is annoying as hell.

He had no idea how she got in 1-A through recommendation, like that stupid Half’n’Half, or that stupid rich, smart girl.

She wasn’t as smart as other adults made her out to be, nor was she brilliantly strong. She wasn’t diligent, not hardworking, and she never bothered to get good grades in tests and exams...And even her Quirk seemed not too cooperate most of the time.

She almost seemed as Enigmatic and weirdly personal with Aizawa, as Quirkless Deku is with All Might...And the fact that there may be more than meets the eye with this airhead really pissed him off.

She was an Enigma that nobody could unveil, much like a grey butterfly.

That’s why, during the USJ attack, was completely taken aback to see her going out of her way to kill the minor villains attacking their homeroom teacher...And then more...He was her attacking the blue haired freak, then getting completely smashed by that Nomu monster when she tried to push Aizawa out of the way of harm, and then, when he thought she was dead, she used her Fire Quirk to save Frog girl, Grape boy and Deku.

That was the first time he ever noticed her strength...That she wasn’t as innocent and frail as she wanted others to think she was.

She made her facade completely crumble...At least for him.

Seeing how she managed to get up and use her Quirk to empower All Might’s strength, as she ran solely on pure anger and adrenaline...She was running on pure spite and revenge...

It pissed Bakugou Katsuki so much realising that some stupid Extra like her managed to get so much action, helping the teachers where it was actually needed, willing to throw away her physical body to do what was right...

While all he did was beat up 2-3 villains from some burning, collapsing building.

How pitiful this Bakugou Katsuki was if he was being bested by some no name like her.

No...This had to be a mistake.

She got in that state because she was reckless, powerless, tactless.

If that was him, he wouldn’t have ended up in a hospital, burnt and broken, more dead than alive.

Then again, so did Aizawa, and he couldn’t say he was weak...

The few next days, L/N Y/N came to school, bandaged and with crutches, and she was behaving like the idiot she always was.

Clueless, clumsy, stupid, naive...

Bakugou Katsuki realised he had some sort of proper competition in her, not only in Quirkless Deku and Icy Hot...And he was more than pissed when he saw how lame she was being.

Why the hell was she hiding her potential?!

But then, the Sports Festival came...

And she was #1 in the first round.

And then, she paired up with him, and together, managed to get #1 in the second round as well.

Bakugou Katsuki analysed her every move, every step, every blink, and he realised that, compared to the USJ incident, she was barely using her Quirk. Going by the state Aizawa was in, he could only question the reason why she wouldn’t just sit back and properly heal and rest her injuries.

Maybe she was restless? Maybe she had something to prove?

But she couldn’t possibly take away the #1 spot from him, that’s for sure.

It was the semi finals...And he had to fight her. 

He almost felt...Guilty, when he realised he’d have to fight a girl in recovery. He almost felt like a villain.

That is, until he started walking down the Stadium, to go on the field, and he noticed her there, leaning on the wall...

Waiting for him.

With a coy smirk on her face...Yet her face looked serene and aloof.

“Yooo, ‘Tsuki, ‘sup?” she chuckled, seeing his tensed expression. “Don’t speak to me so familiarly.” he grunted, stepping in front of her. “Sorry, sorry. I just wanted to ask you a question. Won’t take more than a minute, but just hear me out.” she grinned at him carelessly. “Whadya want?” Bakugou Katsuki asked, crossing his arms. “I wanted to ask you what would you want me to do - Forfeit, or fight you.” L/N Y/N asked, but before she could explain, she got picked up by the neck of her blouse and pinned to the wall. “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT QUESTION?! ARE YOU MOCKING ME, YOU STUPID EXTRA?!” he growled at her like an angry lion. “No, no, goodness, nothing like that. It’s just...I know you want to be #1, and with me being in the state that I am, I won’t prove to be much of a challenge to you, and that’s why I wanted to know what you wanted me to do. That, and...I wanted to make sure your arms were okay.” she ended in a softer tone, putting her gentle hands over his wrists, as a way to get him to put her down. “...My arms? Why wouldn’t they be okay?! What are you on?” he stepped back, giving her a look of shock and almost concern. “I saw you rubbing your arms earlier. It means you must have been overusing your Quirk, right? That’s not a good sign for your health...Saying from experience.” she chuckled softly, angering Bakugou Katsuki even more. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ON ABOUT?! You’re gonna go there and fight me with all you’ve got, even if it kills you, got it?! GOT IT?!” he yelled at her, making her grin wider before walking towards the stage.  “Very well, then don’t hold back, ‘Tsuki. I can’t promise you the dream fight you deserve, but I will do my best.” was the only proper conversation they’ve had since they started their education at U.A...

And he did just as she said.

He fought her with every little bit of power he had in his body, fighting her as if she was back in USJ, showing off her strength for the first time.

He wasn’t wasn’t used to fighting against a fire user like her, as Todoroki never used his other half, for God knows what reasons...

And Bakugou Katsuki was forced to admit, to himself, at least, that she was indeed the strongest person he ever fought so far...And he could only imagine what it would be like, were she not impaired by her wounds.

He started noticing her arms getting burns on her skin, gradually, like spirals going up from her fingers, to her hands, forearms and arms... And then it continued up her torso, visible as she was wearing a crop top, and her jacket was unzipped...And then, her neck and face had burn stripes...

She was doing everything she could...

For his sake.

One of his explosions managed to propel both of them on the opposite ends of the field, and she was on the ground, laying, seemingly helplessly, which is when the people watching started to boo him, to shun him, to call him a villain.

He looked around him, seeing the angry, hateful glares of those watching him...He felt cornered, afraid...His heart was small, hating to be scolded or to have others disapprove of him...

But more than anything, he felt confused.

Didn’t everyone love a strong hero...?

Katsuki seemed to almost fall down into a spiral, until he heard a voice angrily shouting, her voice echoing everywhere... And it was angry, just as it was back in USJ.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, PEOPLE?! You call yourselves Pro-Heroes? PRO-HEROES MY ASS! You’re SHIT! Go and look for another job, this ain’t for ya! You’re seriously calling Bakugou Katsuki a villain, of all thing, when his greatest ambition is to be an amazing Hero for everyone?! REALLY?! You dare call yourselves Pro-Heroes, but you don’t respect Bakugou Katsuki for acknowledging my strength, for respecting me, and fighting me like his equal? HOW IS THAT A VILLAIN, are you brainwashed or something?!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, as she managed to get up once again, resting her hands on her knees, and panting after each sentence, as she was obviously tiring herself out. “Thank you for fighting me fair and square, ‘Tsuki. I won’t forget that.” she nodded at him, smiling weakly.

Was she...Defending him...In front of everyone...?

What the hell was she doing?

Katsuki was so confused...

Why would she do something like this...?

He was so used to being villainised by everyone for following his ambitions...And now...Someone was praising and defending him...For being himself?

This image in front of him...This Y/N in front of him...

This was the same Y/N that got up out of spite, her only fuel being anger and justice.

This is Y/N...The only person that personally inspired him.

She wasn’t just some stupid extra, and nor was she the lameass facade she had for everyone.

This is the real Y/N.

They started fighting again, as Bakugou Katsuki was yelling at her to keep up with him, to fight him all she’s got, and his drive matched hers completely...

Until she started jumping on the flying debris caused by the explosions, and her legs gave out from over-exhaustion and pain, which caused her to lose balance and fall in front of him, deactivating her Quirk for just a split second-

Which was enough for him to unintentionally blast her out of the borders of the stage.

His eyes were wide with shock and fear, he didn’t mean to do it, she deactivated her Quirk in the second that he activated his.

His wide, crimson eyes were unfocused, as he could only stare at the hand that blasted her away, the only thing that kept swimming in his head being the soft smile that she had on her face as she was sent flying away.

It was almost as if she knew he didn’t mean it, and she wanted to reassure him.

What the hell is wrong with this girl...?

“I-I’m...Okay...!” her voice brought him back to reality as he saw her small form, far, far away from him, looking almost like an ant, sitting on the grass, a weak grin on her face, her thumb up in the sky, reassuring everyone...No, she was reassuring him...

She was okay.

And he shouldn’t blame himself for worsening her injuries.

For the rest of the day, his mind was filled only with thoughts of that girl...That annoying Y/N who was playing so much with his mind and heart.

What was so special about her that made him go crazy like this?!

Because, as soon as they got back to school, and she looked like a mummy from all the bandages, she was back to her stupidly annoying self...Facade, rather.

What the hell is wrong with her...?

Not to mention, she intentionally came out with a stupid hero name, so Midnight would refuse to let her choose it, so she’ll get off the hook.

Days passed...Weeks passed...

And Bakugou Katsuki was still analysing every little thing L/N Y/N did, but no matter what happend, there was no trace of the Y/N from both times...

She was smarter than she wanted to let others see, that much was obvious.

And then, came that dreadful night...Where 1-A and 1-B were made to go on some kind of training camp...And they were attacked by villains.

They fought and fought, but Bakugou Katsuki was captured and brought to the Villains’ lair.

But...Next to him...On the chair next to him...With the same arm restraints he had...

Was her. 

L/N Y/N.

With the same ridiculously stupid smile on her face.

First, there was only this burnt guy, Dabi, and he seemed to have a fun chemistry with the girl, which confused Katsuki so much.

Why was she so friendly with villains?!

“Yooo, what’s yo’ name? I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.” she lifted her arms slightly, as a way to greet him, with an ever so cheerful dumb grin. “Dabi, pleasure’s all mine.” Dabi’s smirk was as aloof as hers was, no wonder they kicked off so well. “Can you show me your Quirk again? I’ve always had a thing for Fire Boys...And Blue. Y’know, being a Fire Girl myself...And Blue and Red makes for a pretty Lavender, dontcha think?” she leaned back, trying to get herself comfortable. “You want me to entertain you, Fire Girl? Well, I guess you earned it. You put up quite the fight in front of everyone else.” he gave her a low chuckle, as he extended his hand towards her, upwards, making a fireball in his hands. “Ehhh, that’s such a beautiful colour...Mine is so usual. I’m so jealous of you, y’know? You can burn people alive without a second thought. I can’t. Red and Yellow fire will never be as...Hot...As your Blue fire.” she giggled at her playful attempt at flirting. “A hero flirting with a villain...Isn’t that interesting?” he smirked, leaning back on the table behind him. “Hero? Me? Hah, don’t make me laugh. Heroes...What the hell is a true hero, anyway? This world...This society...Is nothing more than a farce. A fake. Everything is nothing more than a facade, and everyone wants to live in it and continue lying to themselves.” she gave him a dry laugh, which made Katsuki’s head shoot up, staring at her in shock. “Interesting...And intriguing...And yet, you’re in U.A...I wonder why.” he tilted his head to the side, almost questioningly. “Why...? Take a better look at my hair. The tips are on fire. Does it look to you that I have a proper grasp on my Quirk? Nope. So there you have it, I got in to learn how to control my power...And hopefully, not cause my sister permanent burns...Again.” she looked away with a self-deprecatory look.

Sister...?

Since when did she have a sister? She never mentioned a sister before-

No, actually, she never talked about her family. Ever.

She’s an Engima, wrapped in mystery and shadows.

“Awww, toots has a sister, isn’t that adorable. If you ask me, the fire tips give a boost to your charm.” he tried to say, but he was interrupted mid-way by a loud door slam, as a blond girl got inside. “Ahh, Dabi, you got here before me!” the girl gasped, as she skipped in front of the two prisoners. “I’m Toga Himiko, nice to meet you!” she grinned at them, with a blush painting her cheeks. “Himiko? My, you have such a pretty name! I’m L/N Y/N, nice to meet you as well! I’m hug you or something, but, uh...I’m being a bit...Restrained.” she winked at the girl as she made that bad pun. “Hahaha, she’s a fun one! Wanna be my best friend? You’re so cute!” Himiko started gushing over the girl, who blushed softly. “Best friend? I’ve never had a best friend! Yes, I’d love that, Himiko! We can gossip about others, and talk about boys!” the girl was being enthusiastic, almost vibing in that chair. “And we can do each other’s make up, hair and nails! Oh, oh, and we can go shopping!” Himiko was literally bouncing up and down on her feet. “Twice! Twice, get here! I’ve made a new best friend! Isn’t she so cool?!” she started giggling, as Twice got in, and started gawking at the girl, completely ignoring the blond boy next to her. “Whaaa, she looks cool! I bet she’s shitty.” Twice talked, contradicting himself. “Great, I’m gonna have a headache now.” Dabi sighed, rolling his eyes. “Say, say, Y/N, do you like anyone? Or do you have a type?” Himiko leaned down to get closer to her face. “W-Well...Y-You see...Your friend, Dabi...He’s pretty hot...Ahhh, I’m blushing, and I can’t hide my face because of the restraints. What about you, Himi?” she closed her eyes, her bottom lip quivering from embarrassment, as she could hear Dabi’s dark chuckle...And something warm going down her cheek. “He’s so cute...! My crush...Deku, he’s so cute! I’m gonna make him mine, some day!” the blonde girl licked her blood-dripping knife, her face looking even more euphoric than before. “Is my blood sweet? I hope it is! I always wanna be cute and sweet! Maybe that way, others will like me!” Y/N giggled back at her. “Yess, it’s one of the sweetest I’ve tasted so far!” Himiko seemed to have a pleased expresion. “Deku...So, you like Broccoli boy. I’m sure I could get you two to see each other, if you want. He is my classmate, after all...And he’s pretty...Naive.” she winked at the villain girl, who started squealing in happiness...

Until the big bad guy came, along with a few others.

“Ahh, Shiggy, was it? It’s lovely seeing you again, after so long! Great fight, back then...But, uh...Y’know...I’d rather get smashed by Dabi, here, than by some ugly monster, y’know?” she laughed cheerfully, which made Dabi snort and look away in amusement, as Tomura could only grit his teeth in mild annoyance. “You were pretty cool back there too, I must admit. But you’re a hero. You’re like all of them, aren’t you?” Tomura’s voice was low and dangerous. “Hero...Haha...What a joke. If heroes were all good, selfless and altruistic as they wanted to appear, they wouldn’t benefit over us. They wouldn’t get away with the shit they do. They wouldn’t have their mistakes covered and buried away from the face of the Earth, just to keep up a blind facade...Or maybe, it’s the fault of the civilians, for wanting to live and believe in a blatant lie.” the ever-so-cheerful grin from her face was replaced by a dark expression, something so full of anger and hatred, that Katsuki was almost afraid of. “Take off her restraints.” Tomura muttered, and Dabi did just so, allowing the girl to get up and stretch a bit. “All of you here became so-called Villains for a reason, didn’t you? You hold so much hatred for the heroes, because all of you were wronged in some way. You want justice...You want the justice that was never given to you. How am I any different from any of you, I wonder?” she spoke, almost dramatically, and Katsuki couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. “Oh...? What am I hearing...? Little Miss Hero thinks she’s in the same boat as us...?” Tomura got to his feet, stepping in front of her, towering over her smalled form. “Heroes, villains, civilians...What’s the difference, in the end? Morals? Ethics? The kill count? Are there no evil heroes, or altruistic villains out there? The world isn’t black or white, it’s a spectrum of all the shades of grey existent, which people seem to completely overlook. Nobody truly cares, do they? We’re just pretending to care. This life is nothing more than a struggle, a stupid mummer’s charade, and we’re all the puppets lead by some stupid master.” she looked up at him with a defiant look, as his hand grasped her neck faster than a cobra attacking its prey, making everyone gasp. “You speak bold...I like you...But how will I know you’re not bluffing. If I just...Let my little finger touch your neck...Well, I’m sure you already know what’s going to happen, don’t you?” Shigaraki smirked with those incredibly chapped lips. “You know...If you were to get a proper skin care routine, and use some lip balm, I’m sure you’d look 10...No, 20 times hotter than you already do. Your hair looks so fluffy and pretty though...I wanna play with it...” she played around dumbly, annoying Shigaraki enough to slap her, with all 5 fingers, decaying a bit of her face.

It seemed like the world stopped.

For Katsuki, for Shigaraki, for Y/N, and for everyone else.

The tension was so dark and intense, that you could cut it with a knife.

“I heard that you’re in cahoots with All For One, aren’t ya? That fucker...If I could, I would kill him. I would torture him to death...And that wouldn’t be even 10% of what hell he made me go through. That stupid father of mine...A so called hero. Nothing more than a good for nothing lackey...His loyalty was swaying to the highest bidder. Scum. Trash. That’s what he was. And you’re telling me...I don’t know what’s like to have your life fucked over by heroes...? Really...? I think you’re the one who speaks boldly, Shigaraki Tomura.” the girl spoke in a voice so low, dark and threatening, that it made Katsuki’s heart tremble with fear and curiosity. “That’s more like it! Now tell me...No, tell US! Tell us how bad heroes are! Tell me of the justice you got!” Shigaraki continued to provoke the girl, so much that she snapped and pushed him away from her, glaring and growling so much that he hair tips were lit again. “Justice? WHAT justice? Nobodies like me don’t deserve any justice! All For One persuaded my father to leave us and become a villain. And then what? My mother was so heartbroken that she hanged herself! I was barely 12 years old...And she left me all alone, with a 3 year old sister to take care of. What did the Heroes do? They faked my father’s disappearance, my mother was written out of this world, as if she never even existed...But did anyone take responsibility for us? Of course not! Nobody gave a damn about us! NOBODY!” her voice was so full of pain, so broken, and for the first time ever, Katsuki was beginning to doubt everything he stood for so far. “You’ve been so hurt, and yet, you still stand by their side. Why?” Shigaraki’s eyes bore into hers, and it seemed like they almost understood each other. “I don’t care what I have to do, as long as my father and All For One die. For the past 4 years I’ve been working day and night...Studying, doing illicit part time jobs, just to get the money to raise my sister, so the both of us won’t get thrown or separated in a filthy orphanage. I’m so fucking exhausted, man. I just want to live long enough to see my revenge happening. That is the only reason I’m still alive. That, and I have to make sure my sister is okay. She’s so young, and she’s suffered enough...So, Shigaraki, if you want to kill me, now is your time to shine! You can have be by the throat, or you can have me stabbed...Or even cremated. Just say the word.” she provoked him right back, which made him laugh dryly.  “I like this look on your face, Y/N! I get ya, I totally get ya! Come on, take a seat here, at the bar, next to me. Look at your friend over there...Do you see that look in his eyes? He’s shocked. He’s confused. And you managed to do all that! Haha...But y’know what’s even better? Look at the news! Look at your homeroom teacher and principal talking!” Shiggy mocked Bakugou Katsuki, as he let the news on, not making any noise, until it was over. “Don’t you think it’s strange? Why are the heroes being criticised? The way they were dealing with things was juuust a little off. Is it because it’s their job to protect? Everyone makes a mistake or two. Are they supposed to be perfect? Modern-day heroes are so uptight. Don’t you think, Bakugou?” the blue haired one continued. “That’s how it’s always been, and will always be. The stronger ones will get criticised for any mistake they do...And the weaker ones are going to get ganged up and bullied by the others. So fair, isn’t it?” Y/N sighed, crossing her arms and putting her ankle over the other knee. “Is this society truly just, I wonder? We’re going to get everyone to think over. And we’ll be winning. You like winning too, don’t you~? ... Dabi, release his restraints.” Shigaraki ordered the brunet man. “Huh? This guy’s gonna fight, you know?” Dabi turned to look at him with confusion. “He won’t.” the girl muttered, flashing the blond a look for warning. “Don’t worry, it’s fine! We need to treat him like an equal, since we’re scouting him. Besides, you can tell if you’ll win or not if you fight in this situation, right, U.A. student?” Shigaraki reassured him, very carefree.

After that, Dabi made Twice remove Bakugou Katsuki’s restraints, as Mr. Compress apologised for being so forceful, making Tomura continue his explanation.

But of course, Bakugou Katsuki was angry at the League of Villains, so he blasted for Twice and Shigaraki away, glaring at them, grinning with a determined, murderous look on his face.

This was bad.

Out of fear for her fellow colleague, Y/N jumped in front of him, her arms outstretched in a way to defend him, should anything happen.

However, Shigaraki told them not to fight, despite Bakugou Katsuki’s blatant aggressiveness, telling them to fuck off...And so, Mr. Compress and Kurogiri were ordered to make both of them go back to sleep.

Fat chance.

“You said he’s valuable for you, right? Then don’t make him go back to sleep. I’ll make sure he doesn’t destroy or attack anything, so just leave him alone.” the girl gritted her teeth, attentively looking at each and every one of them.

There she was. 

She was standing up for him and defending him again.

What the hell is wrong with him? Does he look so helpless and vulnerable to her?

What the hell was going on with him...?

How could he possibly become a hero, let alone one like All Might, when he let himself get captured, and now, he has someone stand up for him repeatedly?

His thoughts were all a jumbled mess, until the anti-climatic pizza guy rang the door bell...

Only for All Might and other heroes to smash through, as Kamui bound everyone, Gran Torino made Dabi faint, and Edgeshot came to help.

“I’m sorry for the delay. I’m sure you were scared, but it’s fine now!” All Might reassured them...And Katsuki’s bottom lip was quivering... “No need for anyone to worry about me, All Might...You guys did really well...I guess...” the girl let her arms fall to her sides, looking with mixed feelings at the villains. “Don’t be too harsh on them, please. They aren’t too different from me...Now, do what you have to do. I’ll get Katsuki out of here...And don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to him, no matter what.” the girl said, but as soon as she finished her words, Nomus started appearing out of nowhere, even though Kurogiri was unconscious.

This must be the work of All For One.

As the girl was ready to get the blond out of there, a black mist started engulfing him, and realising the gravity of the situation, she threw her arms around him, letting herself be teleported away with him...

The same as when he got kidnapped in the first place.

...

They were in front of All For One.

And Katsuki wasn’t aware of that.

But Y/N knew.

She knew.

Because behind him, from the smoke and dust, her father emerged, almost like a shadow.

Growling, she pushed Katsuki much behind him, standing in a defensive position, attentive for any possible attack.

All For One...Was like a teacher for Shigaraki Tomura. He was like a father for him.

And Y/N was angry that she could feel sympathy for him...For them.

“All Might is going to defeat you again, All For One. And I’m glad I will be here to witness your fall.” the girl growled, trying to keep her composure in front of the nightmare she’s been living for the last years. “You are right. Because he is here, L/N Y/N.” he chuckled darkly, as the girl dragged Katsuki away, leaving way for the two to clash.

Katsuki was watching with shock and horror at the enemy being able to repel the Symbol of peace like that.

All the villains then gathered around Katsuki, ready to take him away and go through the Warp gate.

“Don’t worry about us, All Might! I will protect Katsuki! You take care of that bastard, and stop worrying about us!” Y/N yelled at the Hero, so he will stop being distracted.

As she said that, she did a flip, kicking the blond away from those villains, as she activated her Quirk and did a huge fire bubble around him, so intense that they wouldn’t be able to approach. She kept that fire going with one hand, as with the other she kept defending herself from everyone’s attacks, especially Mr. Compress’, who was trying to get them away.

She kept trying to fight them, as Katsuki was cursing her, trying and failing to get out of the bubble she created, a loud noise was heard, and she noticed Midoria, Iida, Kirishima and Todoroki using their Quirks to jump high into the sky above them, as Kiri was extending his hand towards them to get them out of here.

Smirking widely, she let out the fire from around him, ran as fast as she could, and used the fire she had to propel herself, while dragging Katsuki with her by the wrist, and along with his explosions, they reached everyone.

That is, if Y/N didn’t do one last effort to throw Katsuki to them, and in return, her falling behind.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine! Get the hell outta here, all of you!” was the only thing Katsuki heard, as he tried to get out of Kirishima’s grasp, trying to get the girl to join them...

But he failed.

Again.

And all he could do was go to safety with the other two, watching from the big screen as Y/N and All Might were going to fight All For One and Y/N’s father.

“Don’t you dare send me away, Yagi Toshinori. You owe me at least this much, for everything I’ve been put through. You owe me my revenge on these two people. I’m done being the better person.” she got in an attack position, earning a nod from the hero beside her. “I do owe you at least that. Don’t be rash, and stay focused.” All Might advised her one more time.

Her father could only laugh as he was fighting her.

He laughed at how pitiful she was. He laughed at her emotions. He laughed, not caring about the family he created, and how he destroyed it. He laughed as...

As he held Y/N’s little sister captive.

And he was mocking her, telling her that she will kill the kid if she didn’t obey.

It was then that Katsuki realised he couldn’t breathe anymore, and his heart wasn’t sure if it stopped altogether, or was beating too fast to keep track of.

He was feeling anxious and truly scared for the first time in his life.

What would he have done, should he have been in her situation?

Would he freeze? Would he attack? Would he give up and obey?

He couldn’t answer.

It was impossible.

But...The girl had an answer.

Rage.

Her anger was so beyond limit that, with a loud, raw roar of anger, hatred, agony, and all the pent up frustration she’s been bottling over the years, and without her knowledge, a huge aura of white fire created around her, as she went to attack, and burn alive, the father that destroyed her life.

She was afraid to touch her sister, but Gran Torino and Mount Lady were there to prioritise the rescue of the little girl, allowing Y/N to fight him properly.

Katsuki didn’t need words to see the pain she was harbouring in her heart, as each battle cry gave away the agony she was living in.

Katsuki didn’t need to be told what emotions she was feeling, as the tears in her eyes were enough proof.

Katsuki didn’t need to ask how if she cared for her future, as the blood and burns her Quirk is causing her were a silent answer.

If he could, Katsuki would go right back at her and get her away from there, defend her the same way she did...At USJ, at the Sports Festival, inside the bar...And now, in front of the worst villain ever, All For One.

Katsuki’s eyes were stinking, and his whole body was trembling with emotion and worry.

That stupid Y/N.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Stupid, dumb, clumsy, clueless, frail, vulnerable, idiotic, extra, dumbass Y/N!

Why the fuck do you always have to defend him, and get yourself in such shitty situations in front of him?!

Do it somewhere else, where he won’t feel guilty that he left you alone!

Do it somewhere else, where he can’t see your body bloody, broken, lying there lifelessly!

Stop protecting him!!!

Stop defending him!!!

Stop...Stop! STOP ALREADY!

Please...PLEASE-....PLEASE! 

Please, Y/N, just stop already! 

Run away, come to me, let me defend you for fucking once!

Stop smiling that stupid grin of yours, when you’re more dead than alive!

Yes, he won the fight against some lame villain like her father, but the state she was in?  She was good for nothing else than bait against All Might!

And Katsuki could only watch as she fell to her knees, as her father wasted away in nothing more than dust and ashes into the wind... Only for All For One to pick her up by the neck, using her as a shield, so All Might wouldn’t be able to hit him again...

But All Might is smart, and quickly picked Y/N in one hand, and hit AFO with the other, despite the damage he got to himself.

“Toshi...Don’t mind me...Please...Take care of yourself...” the girl coughed blood on the ground, as she managed to get up from the ground, but this time, she wasn’t sure how much the adrenaline she had running through her veins was going to help much.

But things were getting bad, and all the heroes could see it, broadcasted on live television...And only they were truly able to realise the extent of the problem they were in.

As AFO kept taunting All Might, Y/N encouraged him to keep fighting, despite seeing that he was deflating...Changing.  With all the last strength she had, she patted Toshinori on the back, as she rushed to save a woman from beneath the ruins, allowing the Hero to fight the villain leisurely...

But the last wave...Completely revealed All Might’s true form.

That of a skeleton.

And Katsuki realised...That the fall of All Might was caused by him.

He destroyed the Symbol of Peace.

It was his fault.

All his fault.

But then...Then...All For One did spoke so much...All with the intention to break Toshinori’s heart...To break him...His mind, his heart, his soul.

He told him the truth.

Shigaraki Tomura...Shimura Tenko...Shimura Nana’s grandson..His master’s own grandson...

The master that All For One himself killed.

“ALL MIGHT! FIGHT! DON’T LOSE YOUR COMPOSURE! YOU’RE ALL MIGHT! YOU’RE THE SYMBOL OF PEACE! WIIIIIIIIIIN! ALL MIGHT, WIIIIIIIINNN!!!” Y/N shrieked at the top of her lungs, tears streaming down her face, as she let out a rope of fire to wrap around his arms, empowering him.

She had no idea that the desperate shout she gave made the people watching the broadcast join in the chant.

WIN!

ALL MIGHT, WIN!

YOU MUST WIN!

ALL MIGHT!

As AFO attacked again, Endeavour, Kamui Woods, Edgeshot and other Pro-Heroes joined the fight...Helping All Might...Encouraging him...Telling him that everyone is praying for his success...

And the girl too...

She got up, dragged herself by his side, put her hand over his wrist, and dragged it up in the air.

“NOBODY CAN DEFEAT ALL MIGHT, THE SYMBOL OF PEACE! ROT IN HELL, ALL FOR ONE!” she cried out once again, trying her best to encourage the #1 hero...

But AFO had other plans.

With a powerful shockwave, he blew away everyone, except for All Might.

It took just one more punch...Two more...Three more, actually...For All Might to finish the fight, with that broken and bloody body of his...

He put in that last punch all the fire he had left in his heart, and managed to defeat him completely...

But so...

So disappeared One For All as well.

As soon as the smoke and dust cleared, Y/N saw Toshinori still standing, raising his fist towards the sky, and she started crying harder, yelling out his name in happiness, as everyone was chanting his name.

Despite not even being able to stand up, the girl used the last of her powers to get up, run to him and hug him tightly from the back, sobbing in relief.

“Next, it’s your turn.” was the last thing All Might said on TV.

Everyone interpreted it differently, most people thinking that it was a threat for the villains...

But the truth was otherwise.

“I have used up everything I had in me.”

One For All was done for, and so was All Might.

And it was all the fault of the powerless Bakugou Katsuki.

---

To allow children to continue studying, U.A. built dorms for all the students, and now, each homeroom teacher had to go to all families of their students and ask for permission.

It was all fine and dandy...

But Bakugou Katsuki’s family...

Or rather said, his mother...

Well, Aizawa and Toshinori could understand why Bakugou Katsuki had so much pent up rage and frustration, so much anger and suppressed worries and pressure on his shoulders.

His mother wasn’t the most...Gentle one.

She was as aggressive as he was...Or rather, that’s where he got it from.

Casually slapping the back of his head, blaming him for being too weak and allowing himself to get kidnapped, which in turn, is causing everyone so much trouble, saying that he’s hopeless, and needs to be taught a lesson, constantly yelling at him...

“Is...That alright...?” Toshinori asked, worrying a bit for the blond. “Yeahh, that’s alright, he can take it.” was Bakugou Mitsuki’s reply.

He can take it...?

The slaps? The criticism? The insults? The yelling? The abuse? The trauma? The guilt? The pressure? The facade?

He certainly can take it all...

Can’t he...?

But really...Can he really...?

After what happened at Camino...What he felt, what he saw, what he did...

Can he really take it anymore...?

Bakugou Katsuki can certainly take it, since he doesn’t care about anyone around him, nor for their words or actions...

But can Katsuki take it? 

Can the broken boy inside of him, the one that has so much pressure, so much pain, so many insults, mistakes and guilt thrown at him one after the other?  Can the boy who feels so inferior to the Quirkless Deku that became his Idol’s favourite...

Can he really take it?

---

And so, they moved in the dorms, and since she had nobody to leave her with, Y/N was forced to bring her sister, much to the displeasure of the teachers, but it had to be done.

One of the Pro-Heroes was forced to escort her to school, and back home, at all times as well.

It was a drag, but after all, it wasn’t Y/N’s fault, it was the heroes’ fault this all happened to her.

Everything seemed fine, but only or a little while, clearly, as one day, they heard some arguing from the living room, only to notice a bandaged up Y/N arguing with Aizawa, which wasn’t something anyone would expect.

After all...

Who and WHY would you fight with your homeroom teacher...?

“Well, it’s not my fault either, is it? I wasn’t able to rely on you, Heroes, for the past 4 years, why should I now? Sure, we have some food and stuff, but after this? I have no money, and neither does my sister, obviously. If U.A., or that stupid Government that screwed up my life had any money to spare for the trauma they caused us, they would have given it to us already, right? So come on, turn a blind eye, sign this, and let me go already.” she tried her best to keep herself civil, as Aizawa could only sigh, understanding her concerns. “Look, Y/N, I’m just your homeroom teacher, I’m not the president, and I don’t make the rules. If things were my way, they would have been much different. The police doesn’t let children out of the house either, and Principal Nezu is concerned about all of you. I can’t allow you to risk your life every day to go work, even though I completely understand your concerns.” he tried to explain, but it only angered the girl further. “And after I’m done with this place? What am I going to do? I have no money, I can’t pay for the bills to keep my house, I can’t pay for food, for clothes, for my sister’s books or other things...She’s turning 8 soon, y’know? And what am I supposed to do? Smile and say BLAME THE HEROES WE’RE BROKE? Come on...You can’t expect me to work 3 jobs when we get out of the Dorms, right? You do realise I can’t take it anymore, right?!” her voice was beginning to break, it was getting a bit more pitched, and Katsuki realised how much she was hurting, for the first time since they got in 1-A. “I’m really sorry, Y/N, I know this has been the hardest for you. I will try to talk around again, but I don’t know what we can do. You have great grades, I will at least try, at the end of the year, to fight for a monthly scholarship for you. You deserve it. If things get calmer over time, I will try to convince the Principal to give you permission to work, since yours is a special case.” Aizawa could see how overly exhausted his student was, and knowing her past and all the struggles she’s been going through, he couldn’t help but hug her, patting her hair reassuringly. “I’m exhausted, Aizawa...I don’t know how long I can go on. My body, my heart, my mind...They’re all...Shattered. Now that I’ve accomplished the goal I set myself...My father is dead...All Might defeated All For One...What do I live for? Why am I still here, just to suffer? Do I really have to live for another person? Am I really alive, just to support my sister financially? But...But what about me...? I’ve been working since I was 12...Working and studying all the time...With no actual breaks...I’m collapsing and I can’t see a way out...I’m...I’m...I’m weak too, you know...?!”

I’m weak too...

I’m...

Weak...

How...Can she say that...With such ease?

How can she admit to being weak and vulnerable?

How can she say all that, and yet, Aizawa isn’t looking at her in disgust, but is comforting her?

What the hell is going on?

Bakugou was so sure that if he was ever to show weakness, his whole life was going to crumble away.

HE was going to shatter and everyone was going to blame him, and stomp on the pieces that remained of him.

So why...With her...It’s different...?

Maybe...

Maybe...

Just maybe...

He, too, was allowed...To feel...Even a little beat...

Weak...?

Katsuki was lost in thought, watching Aizawa pat Y/N’s head one more time, before leaving to his room, as the girl could only stare aimlessly at the ceiling, her eyes red, puffy and dead, like those of a dead fish.

She truly looked like she was a deadman walking right now.

She needed help.

She needed someone.

This was her, the true Y/N, the one who’s hurting so much, the one who forgot to live, and existed, only for the sake of another.

Y/N, this weak, broken girl, that live through sheer spite, rage, hatred, frustration, fire and adrenaline... Had no more reason to live.

Katsuki growled at his classmates, telling them to fuck off, as he gulped and made his way to the girl, staring down at her with stern eyes.

Stern eyes that, as soon as they met her pained ones, softened immediately.

They just stood there, staring at each other for a while, before she finally spoke out.

“What do you want?”

Her voice was so rough, so cold, so dead, so much that it almost seemed like she was barely holding on to reality.

“Let me defend you.” Katsuki deadpanned, not thinking much about what he was saying. “Defend me...? What are you talking about?” she frowned in confusion at his words. “You stood in front of me and protected me so many times before...Look, dumbass, I...I’m not good with words. But...Thanks for everything you’ve done for me so far. I, uh...I guess I...Appreciate it. So let me return the favour. I owe you.” he spoke gentler than any time before, only for the girl to scoff and roll her eyes. “Owe me...? Don’t be stupid. I wasn’t expecting to get out of there alive. I kept constantly throwing myself in deadly situations, hoping to feel something. Guess what. I’m more dead than alive. You can’t defend someone with no purpose in life, Bakugou Katsuki. Give it up and go back to your life and your ambitions. Forget about me. I’m not that stupid and cheerful, happy-go-lucky bimbo I let myself be seen as before.” she explained, turning away, not meeting his eyes. “What the hell, Y/N, first of all, don’t ever call me that again! That pisses me off to no end! Secondly, yeah, I know, I always knew that wasn’t the real you. But so what, big deal! I’ve been analysing your every move since the USJ incident! But let me get back at you for all the times you asked me if I was okay, if I overused my Quirk, if I was taking care of myself, and so on. Let me get back at you for shielding and defending me from everyone who tried to harm me, verbally or physically. Let me help you find yourself a reason to live, but this time, for yourself, not for others.” his yelling gradually softened, to the point where he was barely audible...But he was being genuine. “...You’re very strange, ‘Tsuki. Even now, after all we’ve been through, after seeing my true self, you haven’t shunned me, and you still want to help me out. How cute...Very cute, in fact. But I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m capable of receiving help. What’s broken can’t be repaired, you know?” she muttered, before feeling a tight hug from behind. “What about repairing Quirks? Or that old ritual that glues ceramic objects with gold? Don’t be a dumbass...There are ways, you just need to accept the help you’re given. That’s all. Say yes. That’s all I’m asking you. If you’re taking a step back, and allowing yourself to be weak, then let me defend you. Let me protect you.” he buried his face in her hair, as he felt her body tremble in his embrace. “...Okay, ‘Tsuki. Please...Defend me.” was all she said, as she turned around and hugged the boy just as hard.

But that was the simplest thing they could do, because while yes, someone there to hug you and be there for you was always great, but Y/N was so much in her own world from all the things that have been happening, that she forgot to care about others’ well-being, trying to focus on herself for once...

Which is why she couldn’t see, at least at first, how much of a blow the Camino incident was for Katsuki.

It was tearing him apart, but he had nobody to tell to, because the only person who he wasn’t afraid of being weak in front, needed to be protected, and he couldn’t be weak for her, when he needed him the most.

So he was suffering in silence.

Days after days, nights after nights.

He couldn’t sleep well, his mind was tired, he wasn’t eating properly, he was more aggressive and less sociable...

It became so bad that, one night, he took it outside with Deku and fought head to head with him, only to have Aizawa stop them, grounding and scolding them well enough.

It was then that she finally managed to get herself to look in his eyes...And realise how much he was hurting.

The next night, even more, as she saw him slipping away outside, pushing himself to train harder...And harder...And harder...

It was almost like he was using this excessive and incoherent training as a way to let out all the pent up frustrations he held inside of his heart.

And that was the exact truth.

He was screaming, roaring, blasting away trees and other things around, trying to blow away the anger he had, hoping that it would go away, but it didn’t.

“...’Tsuki...? Hey, ‘Tsuki, calm down for a second. Please. Stop. Just for a bit. Look at me.” she spoke out loud enough to be heard from all the explosions. “ Huh? Y/N? The hell ya doin’ here? Go back to the dorms, I’m busy.” he tried his best not to yell at her, but it was obvious he was holding back with the last ounce of self-control he had left in his body. “No. I know you’re hurting. I’ve known since the beginning. That’s why I kept asking you if you’re okay, so you can’t bullshit me. You feel like you can’t allow yourself to talk to anyone. You feel like the weight of the whole world is on your shoulders. You feel the pressure, the pain, the mistakes, the words, the insults, the criticism, the guilt and blame of everything that happened...But ‘Tsuki, don’t ever blame yourself for the All Might thing. It wasn’t your fault. It was going to happen sooner or later, but now, the Villain Boss is defeated, thanks to All Might. Casualties happened, but this was the best outcome anyway.” she tried to pacify him, but when he turned around to face her, tears were streaming down his face like a waterfall. “STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT, DAMN IT! I DON’T NEED YOUR STUPID PITY! AND WHAT THE HELL WOULD YOU KNOW?! I LET MYSELF GET KIDNAPPED, ALL MIGHT LOST HIS POWERS BECAUSE OF ME! ALL I DO IS FUCK UP ALL THE TIME! WHY CAN’T I DO ANYTHING FUCKING RIGHT FOR ONCE, DAMN IT?!” he yelled so loud, so rough, so raw, so pained, that the girl could only bite her lip and run to hug him as tight as she could.

He wanted to yell at her, to blame her for all those stupid emotions he was feeling, for the guilt and darkness that kept engulfing him.

He wanted to beat her up for making him worry so much at Camino, being so dumb as to get in front of him, to protect him from all those villains, and more, All For One.

He wanted to give her a piece of his mind for all the stupid things she told while at the League of Villains’ headquarter, as it felt like nothing more than a harsh and cruel dream, and yet, it was reality.

He wanted to shake her by the shoulders for making him feel as if he owes her, for all the times she stood up for him and defended him in front of everyone.

But more importantly...

He wanted to hug her tightly to his chest and just cry away his emotions, as he knew that none of those were her fault, and that he’s just been locking himself and his heart away from the world to see, and that he’s nothing more than a scared boy who wants to hide away from the judging eyes of people.

“Go on, ‘Tsuki. Yell at me, hit me, punch me, slap me, curse me, use your Quirk on me...Do anything, I don’t care, as long as it helps you get rid of those frustrations and thoughts. They are all false. They were induced to you because of other people and circumstances, but none of those are your fault. You’re going to become an amazing hero, Katsuki, and nobody will ever doubt that.” she spoke in a firm tone, hoping to get through his thick, stubborn skull of his. “...Y/N...” a soft sob, calling out her name, came from the boy.

How could she say something like that? 

How could she possibly imagine that he would be capable of ever being even remotely aggressive with her, when what he wants is nothing more than to protect her and be there for her?

But she does have a point.

She always seemed to say what everyone wanted to hear.

He wasn’t even sure if she always meant her words, but needless to say, they were always what everyone needed, and he realised that now, after seeing how she behaved with those villains, and before, during normal school days, with their classmates.

“Yes, ‘Tsuki? What is it?” she raised her head, cupping his face, wiping away the tears from his eyes. “I’m...I’m...I’m....W-...We...We-...N-No, fuck it, I can’t say it. I can’t. I...I can’t...” Katsuki cursed himself, shutting his eyes firmly, gritting his teeth in anger. “You can, ‘Tsuki. You know you can. You brave and strong. Allow yourself to feel. You are only human, darling. Humans make mistakes, and they are forgiven for them. Humans are allowed to feel, and nobody is blaming them for having feelings. Humans can be weak, and can be strong, maybe both at the same time, and nobody will hate them for not being one or the other all the time! So...’Tsuki...Be honest with yourself, please. Allow yourself to be human.” her voice was so angelic, and spoke so much truth, that for the first time in his life, Katsuki allowed himself to exist as a human being. “I’M WEAK TOO, YOU KNOW?!” he yelled out, his voice booming through the forest, louder than his explosions.

He...

He said it.

He truly said it.

And he’s still there.

And she’s still there.

She isn’t mocking him, nor is she taunting or running away from him.

She isn’t shaming or blaming him.

Instead, she has a tender and understanding expression on her face...

And she’s smiling, almost as if she’s proud of him, he thinks.

But why would she be proud of a complete stranger that admitted his own weaknesses...?

“I know, sweetheart, I know. You’re so brave for saying it. It takes a lot of strength to admit it, especially out loud, to someone else. I’m so proud of you, ‘Tsuki. I promise you, I’m not going to look at you differently for admitting it, and nor will anybody else. It’s not healthy to keep those emotions inside of you, they are only going to eat you away. You saw it first hand.” the girl caressed his cheeks gently, smiling at him in understanding and pride. “This is so stupid...I hate this. I hate this so much. I hate being weak...It’s strange. Not my thing at all. I’m such a fucking dumbass...But...I guess you’re right...Sorta. I feel better letting that get out of my system.” he muttered, blushing and averting his sight from hers. “...This is probably the worst timing ever, but...Did I ever tell you how adorable you are?” she gave him that dumb, happy-go-lucky grin once again, which made him lose his shit, getting more flustered, not sure if he would have the strength to look at her, or if he should look away and avoid any more embarrassment. “What the hell?! Shut the hell up, you dumbass! Don’t say shit like that that you don’t mean, you stupid extra!” he growled at her, but it sounded more like a pomeranian yapping, with no ill intent, which only made the girl chuckle at him. “I mean it. All of it. You’re adorable. Come on, let’s hang out a bit more. Just walk around the place, relax a bit. What do you say?” she gave him a soft smile, extending her hand towards him. “...Whatever.” he hung his head, biting his lip in embarrassment, hiding his face in with one of his forearms, as with the other hand, he held Y/N’s hand. “Did you know that you smell very sweet? Like caramel sugar. And your hand is so warm...” she praised and complimented him, and he couldn’t help but blush harder, not being used to this kind of cutesy words about him. “Sh-Shut up, don’t be an idiot.” he said those words, and yet, he intertwined his fingers with hers, holding her hand tighter. “Come on, I know you like it. Be honest with yourself.” she giggled, leaning on his arm, as he could finally feel himself relaxing a bit. “Yeah...I...I guess I do like it. And I like you.” he admitted, albeit, barely audible. “And I like you as well, ‘Tsuki.” 

Y/N gave him a soft smile - Not one of those happy-go-lucky, stupidly dumb grins - But a soft, small, genuine one.

For the first time in forever, Y/N smiled because she felt happy.

And she felt happy with Katsuki by her side.

Realising that, the boy felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, forming a small smile as well.

Perhaps, they were re-learning together how to be happy...And how to allow themselves to be genuine with themselves.

They were learning to truly appreciate themselves and who they are, after such a long time of struggles, hardships, trauma, insults, guilt and burdens.

At least for tonight, they didn’t have to be Bakugou Katsuki and L/N Y/N.

At least for tonight, they were just Katsuki and Y/N.

And they were happy.

[flutteringdreams-matw]

Out of Time (5)

First/Last

Read on AO3

Word Count: 4347

Previously: Danny and Dan clashed above Amity.

Now: "When you faced Dan in the alternate future, he fused a time medallion within you and then took your place within your time. That created the first paradox. What he didn't realize is the ramifications of that action." Clockwork's expression softened slightly, observing Danny carefully. "Time Medallions are exempt from my powers of controlling time, but not time itself."

As always - please let me know what you think!

---

"I want a damage report on the attack from earlier, any footage from that attack and for goodness sake… will someone deal with the media!"

"Yes Mayor Masters!" a chorus of aides and officials replied, scurrying out of the room.

Vlad sighed, rubbing his temples as he leaned back in his office. Dealing with Daniel's heroic exploits were one thing… but this was taking it to a whole different level! The blasted dome had been up for days and now a ghost that even he felt the presence of from inside his office shows up with the same power as the boy?

Vlad frowned as he looked up at the dome overhead, remembering the events from previous summer. Daniel had certainly grown since then, but to keep a shield this powerful up for this long? Could he truly be this powerful?

A ring brought him out of his musing, feeling the vibrations of his phone from his left breast pocket. With a slight scowl, he absently grabbed the phone and glanced at the number. His eyes widened in recognition before answering. "I was wondering when you would call," he said into his cell phone, annoyed and exasperated.

"It's Maddie," the voice answered curtly. Vlad's eyes furrowed as he scrambled more upright into his seat.

"M-Maddie!" he exclaimed nervously, flattening out his hair to make it look more presentable. He briefly berated his silliness as he settled his nerves. "What a pleasant surprise!" He stiffened slightly, confused. "Wait… why are you calling from Daniel's phone?"

"Why were you expecting him to call you?" she rebutted dangerously. Before Vlad could even think of a reply, he heard her sigh on the other line. "What do you know about heat cores?"

Vlad frowned, slightly surprised at the question. "It's one of the types of cores for ghosts. There are a few different ones – ice, fire, electricity. Surely Daniel must have mentioned them?"

"Not about heat cores specifically," she replied. Vlad still noticed the tartness in her voice; she really didn't want to talk to him.

Vlad got up from the chair, pacing as he thought of how to continue the conversation. This was Maddie! She barely spoke to him anymore; he needed to keep her talking. "Heat cores are fire based," he explained. "Depending on the ghost, it could have direct correlations to their powers like warm ectoblasts, from their appearances etc."

"What would happen if a heat core came in contact with an ice core?"

Vlad stopped pacing, looking at the phone curiously. "That would only happen if two ghosts merged somehow or if someone striped a ghost down to their core levels and combined them forcefully."

"But what would happen?" she pressed.

Vlad stayed silent for a moment, pondering her question as he searched for an answer. "I would assume… that it would behave quite like ice when exposed to heat. It'd melt – either absorbing the ice core or drying up anything the core left behind." Maddie went quiet, making an uneasy feeling creep up within the man. "Maddie," he said quietly. "Daniel has an ice core."

"He's fine," she replied quickly, but he caught the small worry in her voice. "He's resting in the infirmary." Vlad's frown deepened, waiting for the woman to explain some more. "That fight took a lot out of him."

Vlad scoffed. "Of course it did!" he replied, annoyed. "He's held a powerful shield that reflects attacks over the entire town for days. Even if he was Phantom all the time this would take a lot out of him. He's still half human! It's reckless and I can't believe you are entertaining this idiocy."

Maddie was quiet for a long time, the weight of Vlad's words hanging in the air. "This is more complicated that you even know," she said finally, the tartness coming back in full force.

"Then tell me!" Vlad exclaimed angrily. "Believe me to be the bad guy all you want Maddie, but I know Daniel! We're the same!"

"You are not the same!" Maddie exclaimed, cutting across the man's tirade. "Do you think I like seeing him do this? He's fifteen years old Vlad, and I can't do anything to protect him!" The line was quiet for a few moments before she sighed tiredly. "Look, I trust Danny's judgement. Whatever that ghost is will be a force to be reckoned with, and while I hate to say this, we may need all hands on deck. Keep the media off our backs and I'll be in contact."

"Maddie wait-" Vlad started, but it was too late. Maddie was gone, the beeping of the disconnected line entertaining his ear. Vlad brought his phone down slowly, staring at Daniel's number with a concerned frown. "What on earth is going on," he murmured, confused.

:-=-:

Maddie frowned as she hung up the phone, staring at the device in her hand like it was a foreign object. With a sigh, she opened her son's phone again, scrolling through the call log until she saw the most recent one. She stared at the four letter name, slightly surprised that her son didn't label it "Plasmius" or "Fruitloop," before finally pressing the delete button.

She didn't want to admit it, but the man was right; Danny wasn't acting logically. Danny was acting on instinct and fear, with no regard for his own safety. And here she was, powerless and unable to stop him. Her hand curled around the phone determinedly, before setting it back on Danny's nightstand and walked out of his room. As she went down the stairs, her mind wandered back to her conversation with Vlad.

If Vlad thinks that mixing Ghost cores is a bad idea, then it might have truly been an accident. She mused. But if this alternate future has a heat core… how did it change? Which core absorbed which? Our Danny has an ice core… but what if the alternate Danny didn't start with one?

"Maddie?"

The sound of her husband's voice brought her out of her thoughts. Maddie looked to meet Jack's worried gaze, confused at her current state. He and the two ghosts were at the kitchen table, apparently in conversation while she walked into the room in a daze.

Maddie shook her head and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, just thinking through something." Her smile quickly disappeared, guilt creeping up in her chest. "How's Danny?"

"Still out," Jack told her with a frown. He turned towards the large wolf ghost sitting across from him. "Ethelwulf was just filling me in."

"It's more exhaustion than anything else," Ethelwulf continued sombrely. "Most of the bruises and burns he acquired from that fight have all but healed; the only reason why he's still unconscious is because he fixed that shield."

Clockwork said nothing, regarding the humans and ghosts expressionlessly before moving away from the table. Maddie was a little unnerved by the purple clad ghost, but Danny had once said he was a friend, and Ethelwulf seemed to trust him. Maddie sighed sadly, taking a seat at the table.

"He hasn't been sleeping well," she told the healing ghost. "Not since he put up the shield."

Ethelwulf frowned, glancing back toward the time master before regarding the mother. "Let's let him rest then," he said, changing the subject slightly. "Best fill everyone in together."

"Maybe you can help us out then," Jack said, scratching his chin in thought. "Most of our inventions have a failsafe for Danny's ecto-signature, but if Dan's ecto-signature is similar…"

Clockwork moved slightly from the corner of the kitchen. His red eyes found Maddie's, staring straight at her as Jack and Ethelwulf discussed possible ecto-signatures. Maddie held his gaze, awestruck at the power this ghost seemed to hold in that stare. The world disappeared around her, the faint sound of clocks in the distance drowning out the world.

As suddenly as it happened, the gaze disappeared and Clockwork floated slowly toward the entrance to the lab. Maddie watched as he made his way away from Jack and Ethelwulf, down the stairs; Maddie followed quickly.

"Clockwork?" she called, making the ghost stop in the middle of the lab. "Danny told us you took Dan in the Fenton Thermos the first time he faced him. Is there some way-"

"You cannot stop him," Clockwork cut across bluntly.

Flustered, Maddie stopped, looking at the back of the ghost with wide eyes. "What?"

"Any parent wants to shelter their children from harm," Clockwork told her sagely. "You mean well Maddie Fenton, but you cannot stop Daniel from growing up; from facing his fears. There are only so many things you can still protect him from."

Maddie frowned. "I don't understand."

Clockwork sighed, glancing back at the woman over his shoulder. "I know what you're planning – but we're running out of time. If you cannot figure how to separate their ecto-signatures, even with Plasmius' help, then you must be prepared to accept what Danny decides to do. Along with the consequences that come with it."

Maddie's mind reeled with the weight of Clockwork's words. She swallowed nervously, her response coming out in a whisper. "He's my son; how can I just watch as he throws himself into danger?"

Clockwork turned back, continuing towards the infirmary. "You don't," he replied sadly. The ghost turned invisible then, leaving the stricken mother in the middle of the lab.

:-=-:

... "Vlad?" His voice felt hoarse to his own ears.

"Daniel, there's no time!" the man yelled frantically as he freed the boy from the operating table. He heard the screams from further away. "It went wrong. You need to run, get out of here. I'll hold them – it – off to buy you time." The smell of ectoplasm and blood made him sick. "Quickly before –"

Vlad was tackled from behind from a white and black blur. Not wasting a second, he ran toward the exit of the lab. Suddenly, he felt something hit him from behind. With a shout, he crashed into the wall hard.

"Did you think you could run away from me?"

He looked up at the voice. It was his voice – except it was distorted somehow, more evil. His ghost half was different, hair on fire and skin blue. Phantom looked like those ghosts he fought over the last year – before everything. His body was shaking.

"Did you think you could throw me away Danny? After everything?" Phantom said, in the same strange voice. "Let me show you which half is disposable."

He met the blood red eyes of Phantom before he saw green.

Danny gasped as he awoke, startled from his most recent dream. Eyes shooting open, he immediately groaned at the too bright lights bombarded his senses. He brought a hand to his face, blocking out the light briefly, hissing slightly at his soreness as he did so. Danny stayed like that for a few minutes, taking in the smell of antiseptic and ectoplasm as he tried to shake the dream from his thoughts.

"What's wrong with me?" Danny asked, distraught. "Why now?"

"Both excellent questions."

Danny shot upright, wincing heavily, at the voice. "Clockwork?!" he exclaimed, confused. He looked around widely before he saw him, sitting in the chair beside the bed. The Time Master's face was hidden beneath his long silvery beard. His hands were folded neatly under his chin, eyes sparkling in small amusement as he watched Danny's slacked jawed response.

"Hello Danny," he said. Clockwork shifted the chair closer, letting it rise above the ground slightly as he did so. "Good to see you awake."

Danny blinked at the words before his brow furrowed in anger. "Where have you been?" he asked angrily, gesturing wildly. "Dan escaped days ago and you show up here now to do what? We could have-" Danny broke off, grimacing as a set of sparks went through his frame. He doubled over with a groan and closed his eyes as he breathed through the pain. The sparks subsided after a few minutes, but Danny sat hunched, breathing deeply.

"Easy now," Clockwork soothed, his tranquil voice made Danny's body relax slightly. "There's a lot to explain and best to do it all at once with your team present." Danny nodded, pushing himself back into a sitting position. Clockwork sighed, rising from the chair and drifted over to Danny's bedside. Once he was in front of the teen, he placed one of his hands on Danny's shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

Danny scoffed. "Like I was run over by a truck while I relived my worst nightmare over and over again."

Clockwork rolled his eyes at the response. "Fifteen year olds and sarcasm; I meant your energy levels. Apart from battling a powerful enemy, you also put more energy back into the shield. You've been out for a few hours."

Finally opening his eyes, Danny looked around the room. Mildly surprised, he realized that he was in the lab – more specifically the infirmary. Stark white walls lined with shelves full of first aid supplies surrounded them in the large room. There were tons of medical equipment all adorned with the Fenton logo. "What happened?" he asked in response. "I remember the shield being cracked, but everything else is a little hazy."

Clockwork sighed again, crossing his arms. "You insisted on fixing the shield and managed to do so by putting more of yourself into it. Unfortunately, you were also low on energy and passed out. Which brings us full circle to: How are you feeling? I know it's a question you tend to deflect, but humour me this once."

Danny cringed slightly, frowning in thought as he assessed himself. "I… don't feel as drained," he said after a moment, confused. Danny looked up at the Time Ghost. "If I put more energy into the shield, shouldn't I be feeling worse?"

"That's a question for Ethelwulf I'm afraid," Clockwork replied with a sly smile. "However, that probably means you can chance the stairs. Your friends will be here shortly and it's best to get everything out in the open." Clockwork picked up his staff, which Danny only noticed was at the foot of his bed, and gestured toward the door. "Shall we?"

Danny watched as Clockwork floated to the door, turning the knob. He sat up slowly, carefully standing before staring back to the Time Master. "Clockwork?" Clockwork hummed as he turned back to Danny expectantly. "You haven't shifted forms."

Clockwork raised his eyebrows slightly, smiling. "Perhaps you aren't as clueless as you seem." Danny ignored the jab and stared at his friend. Sighing, Clockwork gestured again towards the door. "Everything is as it should be – for now at least. I'll explain more upstairs."

:-=-:

"Danny! You're okay!"

Danny managed to turn from his spot on the couch before he was tackled by his friends and sister. He waved them off with a smile. "I'm fine." All three teens stood back and gave Danny an exasperated look. "Really!"

Sam let out a small breath. "Good," she said with a small smile. Before Danny could react, she hit him hard on the arm repeatedly. "What. Were. You. Thinking!"

"Ow!" Danny exclaimed, scowling as he rubbed his arm. He looked at Jazz and Tucker for any assistance, but neither seemed to want to get in the middle of whatever tirade Sam had planned. "Seriously?"

"Danny you passed out," she gritted out, violet eyes blazing. "In the middle of class, then decided to go off and face an evil version of yourself when he attacked." She crossed her arms and sent the boy a withering glare.

"I think Sam's trying to say you scared us," Jazz said, frowning disapprovingly. "Thankfully Tucker managed to get to me in time to sign you out of school before we went into lockdown. It took ages to get through to Mom and Dad."

Danny sighed guiltily. "Yeah, if it wasn't for Ethelwulf and Clockwork, I don't think I would have gotten out of there."

As if on cue, Ethelwulf walked in the Fenton's living room, quickly followed by his parents and Clockwork.

"Hi kids!" Jack boomed as he sat down across from the teens. "Perfect timing."

"I thought you couldn't find Ethelwulf?" Tucker asked, confused. "Or Clockwork for that matter."

"Apparently, it's a long story," Danny said, eying both ghosts warily. "Now that we're all here, can you just tell us what's going on?"

Ethelwulf chuckled, sitting on the couch and faced Clockwork with amused eyes. "I told you he'd be all business."

Clockwork said nothing, waiting until the humans settled before he floated toward them. He inspected his staff, frowning slightly, then at the wall clock across from him. His old frame hunched further, floating down toward the ground and put his staff out in front of him, using it as a cane. "What would you like to know?"

Danny frowned, realizing now how frail Clockwork looked. "Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

Clockwork smiled sadly. "Have you ever heard of a paradox?" he retorted. Danny shook his head, while Sam, Tucker and Jazz all nodded. "A paradox, in regards to time, is when a situation contradicts the natural order of time. It can be an event, a person or thing that doesn't belong. I see time like a parade, from above; whenever I sense a paradox – I intervene to move time away."

"Why?" Maddie asked.

"I control time," Clockwork said simply, turning towards her. "Except time is not a simple concept for any being, especially humans. It moves in all directions. When a paradox occurs, it stops the parade; time gets backed into fewer and fewer pathways until it's forced to go in one direction." Clockwork turned toward Danny, looking at the boy's face to see if he understood yet. "Paradoxes, unfortunately, are my weakness. As the timelines dwindle, so does my grip on time and my powers. My form stops shifting, I lose the ability to see all the possible pathways; It is increasingly harder for me to start, stop and manipulate the timeline."

Danny's eyes widened, finally connecting the dots. "You're not shifting because of me," he said, guilt and regret in his voice. "You're losing your powers because of my future self and the alternate timeline."

Clockwork chuckled. "I wish it was so simple." When Danny shot him a confused look, he continued. "When I saved you and your family, I created another paradox by removing Dan Phantom from the time stream."

"Wait – another paradox?" Jazz asked incredulously. "What was the first paradox?"

Sam gasped. "We created the first one," she exclaimed, looking at Tucker with wide eyes. "Remember? We jumped straight into a future where we didn't belong."

"No," Clockwork answered. "Dan Phantom created the first one by interacting with you, Danny. Unfortunately, this many paradoxes have limited my view on time as it unfolds. One paradox I can deal with – two have sadly created more dead ends. Which reminds me; The dreams you've been having."

"Frostbite told us," Ethelwulf explained, when all humans looked at him confused. "Though, Clockwork suspected as much after you faced Nocturn."

"Nocturn?" Danny asked, confused. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"I asked Nocturn to investigate a hunch," Clockwork told the wide eyed teen. "When you faced Dan in the alternate future, he fused a time medallion within you and then took your place within your time. That created the first paradox. What he didn't realize is the ramifications of that action." His expression softened slightly, observing Danny carefully. "Time Medallions are exempt from my powers of controlling time, but not time itself. By fusing one with your core and leaving you ten years in the future, it started to solidify your place within a new time stream. Those dreams you've been having? Glimpses of the future you erased as well as possible outcomes of what's to come. Nocturn confirmed it when you two clashed earlier this year.

"However, while that timeline has been erased from the main time stream, a piece of it still exists within Dan. I removed him from time, meaning that my powers no longer affect him -just like they no long affect you since a part of your core assimilated to a different timeline. One that no longer exists."

"What…" Danny said breathlessly. He put his head in hands; it was too much to take in.

"Since that battle, how many times have you moved through time without one of my medallions?" Clockwork asked sympathetically. "How many times did I have to forcibly manipulate time around you?"

Danny stayed silent; mind reeling as he went through the questions Clockwork was asking. He didn't dare look at his friends or family.

"The time medallion, even though it's now out, is a relic of time Danny," Clockwork continued. "It doesn't follow a linear path. Its power shows itself unpredictably. It's why I was able to stop time around you on Fear Island, transport you to and from the past into multiple timelines without needing to use the medallion, and yet still was able to stop time during your fight with Dan last year. It's also why you did not see any of these glimpses until the paradox was upon us. You can see parts of it in random orders, sense wounds before they happen. You and your future self are the centre of this paradox Danny – time cannot move forward until you face each other."

"Hold on," Maddie said slowly. "You said you couldn't see past this paradox – how do you know Danny has to face the evil Phantom?"

Clockwork regarded her for a moment, red eyes scanning her before turning back to Danny, head still in his hands. "The last thing I'm able to see clearly is Danny and Dan facing off – but I'm not the only one who can see possible outcomes right now. In fact, I don't believe that my account for the future is as far we can see."

All eyes turned to the teen with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Finally looking up at the Master of Time, Danny sighed. "I've seen it too," he confessed reluctantly. "Multiple different times where we fight – Actually, I think we just lived through one." Danny shuddered slightly in remembrance. "I saw his creation. I've seen him escape multiple times…" Danny swallowed, silent again.

"Which prompted you to put up that shield," Ethelwulf said pointedly. Danny nodded. "Danny, you're powerful enough to keep that shield up without using your core energy. If what Clockwork said about the Time Medallion is true, your core might be feeling the effects of these dreams or these phantom injuries."

Danny hummed, agreeing with his mentor. "Wait – Clockwork said I put more energy into the shield. How come I feel okay?"

Ethelwulf frowned disapprovingly. "The fight between you and your future self drained quite a lot of your base powers, which helped balance your extensive use of your core powers from the past few days. Now that you've regained some energy, your base powers unconsciously switched with your core powers in that shield as a way to help you recover your energy. It's probably wise to continue to use your base powers with the shield unless there's a larger threat upon us." The wolf ghost turned to Clockwork before back to Danny. "You said you've seen multiple visions of Dan escaping?"

"Had another one this morning," Tucker supplied worriedly. "In the middle of class."

Danny felt his parents' eyes move to him in concern and possibly exasperation. "Yeah," he said softly.

Ethelwulf moved to the boy, trained yellow eyes scanning carefully for any injuries he could have missed. "When did he actually escape Clockwork?"

"This morning," the time master replied with a frown.

"And how many times have you seen him escape?"

Danny sighed. "About six or seven. I lost count."

Ethelwulf frowned in thought, looking between Clockwork and Danny expectantly. "Were there any indications that last vision was the one from this future?"

The boy in question frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought back. "I was awake with this one?" he supplied.

"There weren't any sparks this morning," Sam said, frowning slightly. "He just … fell over."

Danny hummed in agreement. "That's true; most of the other visions I had affected my core powers. That one just… happened."

Ethelwulf stared at the halfa in front of him, before looking toward Clockwork. Clockwork gave a slight nod, indicating his acceptance and Ethelwulf continued. "Danny, you need to take it easy for a bit; you're going to need your powers at full strength before you can face Dan again."

Danny nodded, not trusting his own voice. The world felt like it was taunting him, showing him these glimpses of time. Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, he stood, feeling all eyes move toward him. "I'm going upstairs," he said quietly.

"Danny –" Jazz called out to him, but he shook his head, cutting her off.

"Just a little tired," he said with a small smile. It didn't reach his eyes. "Let me know if there's any trouble." He walked out of the living room, still feeling the concerned gazes of his friends and family as he made his way up the stairs. Finally reaching his room, Danny entered it hastily, leaning against the back of the door as he closed it with a soft click. He let out a shuttering breath, as the conversation that just happened washed over him again. Clockwork losing his powers? Seeing the future? Timelines? Dan?

Dan.

Danny frowned at the memory of his evil future came to mind once more. Going into that fight this morning was stupid, sure, but it made him realize something- Dan wasn't holding back. When Danny faced him after he returned from the future, Dan was reserved, calculating to make his plan move forward. Now? It was like the evil spectre was playing with him. Danny sighed, staring out into his room.

"What are you after?"

:-=-:

Power flooded his veins as he ripped through another Ectopus, absorbing their energy with fervour. As the poor ghost disappeared, lost to the mass of the ghost zone, Dan's aura shone brighter, relishing in the excitement.

He floated toward the edge of the floating rock nearest to him, hearing in the distance the vague screams of terror from a distance. He smiled cruelly – it truly was great to be out of that thermos. Brow furrowing, he turned quickly, ecto-blast at the ready before he dropped the attack. A mirror image of himself floated above him – a little worse for wear- echoing the power hungry demeanour. He smiled, feeling the duplicate rejoin him and giving him the memories it carried with it.

"Well now," he said quietly, chuckling darkly. "Seems like the old me has some new tricks – and allies." He paced up and down, thinking about his next move. "If he's able to keep that shield while fighting, then his power levels must have improved somewhat…" he stopped, staring out to the Zone in thought. "Perhaps I should divide his attention." He smiled again as a plan formulated in his mind. "I can't wait to watch as his world falls apart."

:-=-:

Valerie slipped the blaster's core back into her main bazooka with a grin. Flipping the switch, her smile widened as it hummed in response. Switching it back off, she threw it over to her already large pile of weapons on the table as she grabbed another smaller ecto-gun from the pile beside her. She needed everything in tip-top shape to face off against whatever attacked Amity today.

With a frown, she turned back to the TV as it ran a repeat of the ghost attack from earlier. Phantom 'saved' the town from a ghost attack by putting a giant shield around the city. That he put up. "Probably more of his dirty tricks," she muttered, cleaning some ectoplasmic build up from the gun she was working on. An image of the Ghost Boy falling and hitting the shield graced the screen as Lance Thunder speculated some sort of hair-brained theory.

She winced as it was shown again; that was probably fifteen feet, twenty tops. For the Ghost kid to drop out of the air like that – his opponent certainly packed a punch. Usually he was flying off with some stupid smile or quip on his lips after battles. This? This was different.

Valerie inspected the gun, making sure there was nothing out of the ordinary before she hunched forward and studied the footage. Everything about this fight was opposite from what she's seen from the spook. Even from afar, she can tell there was no banter – every move he made was calculated. He never fought with a team unless he needed to and whoever those two ghosts were, well, it was testament to their strength to see them just disappear like that. Valerie had only seen Phantom fight like that on two occasions: The Ghost King and last month… when they faced the mayor.

The dark skinned sighed as that thought crossed her mind. When she said knowledge was power, she didn't mean the knowledge that the mayor was a ghost. And possibly a criminal mastermind who almost murdered a young girl. Definitely a manipulative son of a –

Ding Dong

Startled, Valerie looked up from her spot on the sofa to the piles of weapons across the small apartment. She cringed, scrambling upright and grabbed the blanket on the armrest, throwing it over the couch. "Just a second!" she called, looking around frantically for something to cover the table as the doorbell rang again.

Seeing the pile of lab clothes at the foot of her father's room, Valerie tossed it onto the table, jumped over one of the table chairs and stood in front of her door. She took a deep breath to centre herself before opening the door slowly.

Valerie gasped; in front of her stood a girl, no more than 12 in a baggy sweatshirt, red shorts looked up at her through giant blue eyes. Her long jet black hair was covered by the red beanie, poking out a bit in the front.

"Dani?" Valerie asked, dumbfounded at the young half ghost girl in front of her. "When – how?"

Dani smiled shyly. "Hey Valerie," she said with a wave. "Mind if I stay with you for a while?"

Link to Ecto-Storm Series

[fyasamisato]

Character Talk: Korra - Choices and Identity

Hi all! Been such a long time since I’ve done this. I had a absolutely wonderful conversation with a friend yesterday about Korra and I wanted to put it into writing. (Warnings, depression)

It’s difficult for me to express the impact Korra had on me as a character. How much I could relate to her journey and her spirit. We both fell upon dark times together, and watching her overcome, helped me to do the same. It’s that journey into darkness I want to shine a light on. Because in my opinion, Korra’s journey is one of the best written arch’s for a protaginist I’ve ever experienced. 

Korra was raised in unique circumstances. Understandably so given the recent history with the avatar. But being raised on a compound, prevented her from experiencing the world beyond the horizon, being taught about the role you are expected to fill, the power and expectation in your legacy and the weight of the world that you will be expected to carry is going to have an effect on who you grow into.

For Korra, that shaped her into a fiery, headstrong, reckless, and even sometimes arrogant young woman. She chose to embrace that legacy with both arms. I’m the avatar, you got to deal with it. She didn’t shy away from her destiny, instead her destiny became who she was. The brightest point in life to look forward to.There was no other option, no other dream and no other option only a desire to measure up to that legacy and to prove she was worthy to carry it.

Being the avatar, was her identity.

So it only makes sense that the series tests that resolve and that identity over and over again.

She expects to change the world for the better. She expects to bring balance to the world because that is what she is told she is meant to do, and thousands have done it before her. Anything that falls short of that idea, that legend, any grey area is going to be considered failure in the eyes of someone who being the Avatar is all they ever wanted. The expectations others put on her, don’t hold a candle to the expectations she put on herself. To measure up. To be what the legends told her she should be. In both books 1 and 2, that identity is put to the test. What can the avatar do for the non benders and their oppressors? What can she do when a civil war divides her loyalties? What choices will she make when the world stands poised to be changed forever? She faces these questions, with mixed results. In both the eyes of the world, and herself. She’s ridiculed and even despised. When you alone stand to make the choice to reunite the spirit and human worlds, you’re going to have second thoughts, you’re going to question if you made the right call. Headstrong as she is, Korra asks herself that question constantly. Is she fulfilling her destiny? Is she doing a good job, or is she making things worse? Could someone else have done better? Could Aang have done better? She was raised to think that she would make a difference. That she was the only one who could.

It’s easy to buckle under that weight when the world is at stake.

Book 3 begins, and Korra is left to question if she made the right decision, opening the spirit portal. It hasn’t made life better for everyone. Human or spirit, none of whom were asked if this is something they wanted. She made the choice for them, because she was the only one that could. Right? She was the avatar, this was her responsibility, no one else. To bring harmony between human and spirit was the point right? Wasn’t that balance? Korra is left to ponder this, racked with so many doubts as to her place and her ability to make the right choices. To question herself more deeply than she had before, and she had before, so many times. Every challenge she faced shook her resolve. Losing her bending, Unalaq’s manipulation. Nothing was as simple as she expected. 

So it must come as a huge moment of shock and relief, when she discovers her actions had side effects. That air benders are returning, and that was entirely due to the choices she made. For Korra, this is something of a revelation. The equalist conflict wasn’t clean. The water tribe civil war left its marks. Could things have been handled better? Did she do the right thing? Those are the thoughts gnawing away at her, and yet this? The return of a people? Of her predecessors people? That is an absolute good right? No grey, no complicated motivations, no villains with justified causes. Just something good, that she caused. She did the right thing. Finally she brought unquestionably positive change, like an avatar is supposed to.

But then it has consequences you never imagined.

No one. Could have predicted the air nomads return. What’s more, no one could have predicted what that would lead to. The damage it could cause. What happened next, what Zaheer and the red lotus did, is Korra’s fault. She’s sure of it. Intention doesn’t matter to her, nor how unexpected the results. All that matters is these consequences came as a result of a choice she made. You think you’re doing the right thing, but the world always becomes more complicated than you expect. It would be unfair to blame yourself for that, but that’s exactly what Korra does, and the the world changes. All she can do is try to catch up.

For a brief moment, she felt like the avatar’s of legend. Felt like she was living up to the legacy she so tied her identity to. For once in her life, she was worthy to carry on Aang’s story. The Avatar’s story. Bringing back the air nomads was her proudest moment. The best thing she’d ever done.

To have it turn on her so violently...

What is Korra left with? She faced her most challenging battle. She survived, after the most suffering she’d ever experienced.  Suffering no one should have ever had to endure. But the balance is broken, and the earth kingdom is in chaos. Once again, the resolution of one conflict gave birth to another. Something worse, around each corner, and for the first time, she’s in no state to fight it.

And this time, she doesn’t have to. Watching Jinora’s ceremony, and seeing her come into her own. One can’t help but see a glimpse of Avatar Aang in Jinora’s shaved head. The legacy Korra is trying to carry. The shadow she’s lived under the whole of her life. 

And that’s when Tenzin, her guide, the living legacy of Aang, comforts her with the best, and worst thing she can hear right now.

They’ll take up the cause. They’ll take up the legacy of balance until she can return. She can rest.

The Avatar isn’t needed.

I don’t think it’s by accident that moment of Korra’s reaction is one of the most talked about and praised moment of the series. Is she happy for Jinora? Of course. Is it a relief to know the world will have someone to protect it? That things won’t fall apart because she’s gone? Yes.

But they shouldn’t have to. 

Every conflict in the series, is a direct attack on the Avatar. On it’s role. The world has changed since the hundred year war. Leaving one to wonder if heroes even have a place anymore. Amon attacked her abilities. What was she without them? Unalaq presented her with a dark reflection. What lines could she cross before she goes too far? Zaheer meanwhile struck at something deeper. Her cause. Her legacy. The avatar imposes balance. One person, decides the fate of millions, and now, those people she tried to protect, are beginning to protect themselves.

Of course Zaheer was wrong, but the issues he proposed didn’t slink back into the shadows. They’re present for all to see the flaws in the system.

Her whole life, Korra was told she was needed. That the avatar was needed. They are one and the same in her mind. Now she’s faced with a sobering truth. She’s not needed. The world will move on without her. It’ll survive without her.

If she isn’t needed, if someone else can bring balance, then why should she? Why should she suffer again and again when she doesn’t have to? When no one needs her to? Why should this responsibility be solely hers to carry?

What is Korra to do, when all she’s left with is time to ask herself those very questions?

When she’s alone?

A long time ago, I loved the finale of book 1. Because I asked myself, what Korra’s lowest point could be? When someone so physical, so tied to her own ability to affect change, lost that ability? I thought losing her bending, losing the chance at the avatar state was the lowest point. I bet if we could have asked her that, if we could have peered into her fears in book one, she would have had the same answer. And that made me worried. Where could they go from there?

Thankfully, I was wrong. Losing her abilities, wasn’t her lowest point. Even powerless, an Avatar can still do great things. Still promote the balance of the world.

No, the worst thing that could truly happen for her, the darkest hour would be the revelation that she didn’t have to. That the world would balance itself. That she’d failed more profoundly than being beaten down. Than a villain achieving their goal.

That maybe the world didn’t need an avatar anymore. 

Her destiny, that legacy, that responsibility wasn’t needed. Someone else could do her job, and they could do it better than she ever could, cause all she’d done is make mistake after mistake. (This is what she tells herself)

What she’d so wrapped up her own identity with was unraveling. If Korra wasn’t going to be the avatar? What would she be? 

The scariest answer of all is the only one she’s left with. Nobody. 

Korra never had another dream. Her want, her need, was to be a good Avatar. To live up to that calling. Her childhood on that compound had prepared her for nothing else, no other door was presented to her, no other choice. Her life was decided for her the moment she was born. She was going to be the avatar and that was it. So what is one to do when that’s not enough?

Korra had nothing else to fall back on. Nothing to replace that yearning, that drive in her that burned like fire. All she was left with was a hollow where that fire used to be. With nothing else, she begins a downward spiral. A self perpetuating sense of directionless. A depression that began to eat her up from inside, and that grew worse for three years, until she turned away from her legacy, from her friends, and from her family, because all of them were better off without her.

Those are the things we tell ourselves when we struggle with depression. Achievements? The good we do doesn't seem to break through that fog. The love and support from those we care about, doesn’t seem earned. Leaving us only with the worst doubts our minds can conjure.

There are times it feels like no one can hurt us the way we can hurt ourselves

Depression is something I’ve battled myself, and to this day, I have never connected with a character’s struggle as much as I have Korra’s. 

Nor has a triumph ever felt so cathartic.

“If you look for the light, you can often find it.But if you look for the dark that is all you will ever see.” -Iroh

Watching Korra find that light again, helped me to find my own.

Korra defined herself as the Avatar for most of her life. When she at last overcomes that struggle, the avatar is still a part of her identity, but that’s just it. Only a part.  Moving forward, she learned that her identity could be more. Was already more. That there were so many wonderful things in this world. Friends, family, and all of it leaves a piece of itself to carry on. Even the antagonistic forces in our lives, present us with a chance to learn. To overcome. Every experience builds up who we are, and what we become, more than titles ever could.

She learned the weight of the worlds didn’t have to rest solely on her shoulders, but that even so, she could still do the right thing. She could still make a difference. Maybe it was more complicated than the world needing an avatar or not. Regardless of title, it needed her. It needed Korra.

Korra began as a character forged by expectations. Both in universe and out. If you’re reading this I doubt have to tell you what she had to overcome along her journey and in the eyes of the fandom itself. The bar she had to clear, was immeasurably high. Expectations of whether she could live up to it all hung over her head, as much as it hung over the series itself. 

When that was always the wrong question.

For so long she wanted to be the perfect Avatar, to live up to the heroes that came before. She was trying to forge the legend of the avatar, rather than the Legend of Korra.

Her journey, works so well, because it’s tied to the legacy of the series. The question of how to followup something so brilliant as avatar is the question Korra faced every day. How do you follow up a legend?

Instead of allowing herself to be crushed by the legacies of the past, Korra learned a far more valuable lesson. That the choices we make shape us, not the expectations of legends long gone. That we can forge our own identities, and our own futures. That to be something, isn’t the end all be all. We can define ourselves by more than our responsibilities.

That we will make mistakes, and that those mistakes will have consequences. That we will make choices and sometimes things will go dangerously wrong. That sometimes we will break, shatter into pieces and wonder how we can ever be put back together. 

Those are the sorts of things destiny doesn’t prepare you for. Things that get left out of the retelling. A legend, doesn’t have blemishes.

So why would we ever compare ourselves to them? Why would we hold ourselves to those mythic ideals no one could ever match? Why run ourselves bloody and ragged trying to be something we’re not? Something no one ever really was?

A person’s story, isn’t beautiful because it’s flawless. Life, is messier than legend. Failures define us just as much as successes. Those flaws help us to build, to reflect on who we really are and the things we really want. 

She never had to be the perfect Avatar, because there’s no such thing.

All she had to be was Korra, and being Korra, was enough.

[tainted-wine]

Past Due

Reader X Giran, Dabi, and Mr. Compress (NSFW)

(OOF, This little bastard of a fic has been fighting me every step of the way. It took so long because I was second guessing every single sentence I wrote. Finally, here’s the darkest shit I’ve written so far.)

(This is pre-Overhaul arc, so the bois Giran and Compress are still whole)

Words: 7.8k

Heed These Warnings: Murder, Kidnapping, Noncon/Dubcon, Giran being a dangerous dude, Knives, Forced Oral and Anal, Voyeurism, Humiliation, and the Protagonist just being a total dumbass

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

For as long as you have lived, luck has been by your side like a bipolar twin attached to your hip. It was thanks to luck that you were born into a quirkless family in the trashiest of neighborhoods, your penniless parents separating and leaving you to fend for yourself. The streets had no use for you; no quirk, no charisma, no money, you were just another parasite desperately clinging onto the city’s rotten underbelly.

But it was also thanks to luck that you survived this long. The average person can remember each and every brush with death in their life clearly, but you—you’ve lost count of how many times this cruel world has tried to pick you off. So far, you have dodged every bullet, knife, and blast of quirk-based power aimed in your direction. How do you keep slipping past all of these dangerous criminals? Your reckless ass has no idea. Luck was simply a sadistic douchebag that enjoyed dangling you over the jaws of death, only to yank you back up and repeat the process like a sad little yo-yo.

As you drove to your place in a panic, you wonder if luck has ever fucked you this hard before.

———

Things had gotten somewhat organized, and by that you mean that you finally had some sort of plan instead of gravitating toward the nearest opportunity that didn’t look ready to tear you apart and throw your remains in an alley. You’ve even made an accomplice, a woman not quite as powerless as you, but an unfortunate soul with less experience in this…line of work. To make things even better, you managed to strike a deal with a prominent broker. Giran was a name known all throughout Japan’s black market, and to think that he’d see potential in a quirkless broad whose notable trait was simply not dying—it was your lucky day. He supplied you with weapons that will make surviving in this hellhole much easier, telling you to pay him within the next five days.

Your partner in crime asked if this was a good idea, that you didn’t seem capable of gathering that amount of money in the span of time you were given. There was no reason for her to worry; with the heat the two of you were packing now, you now had the ability to rob more than distracted civilians wandering the streets.

But before you could even enjoy your brand new firepower, luck decided to be a total asshole again. It was only the second day when you both were ambushed by a group of ruffians. Their quirks were pretty damn impressive, honestly. One of them levitated your gun right out of your hands before you could even fire, instantly leaving you helpless so that the other dudes could close in and beat the snot out of you.

The two of you woke up, bruised, bloodied, and stripped of Giran’s weapons. Damn, you don’t remember a deal ever going south this quickly. Must be a new record.

Alright, so your weapons were gone and you only have a fraction of the money so far. You can figure this out. Your partner was fuckin’ hysterical and you have to smack her before she gives herself a heart attack. The money was barely coming in, and before you knew it, the fifth day had arrived.

Yeah, you weren’t ready to face him yet.

Look, you weren’t exactly running away from him, you were just making sure to give yourself some space while you got your shit back together. That’s why you immediately moved to another part of town and now made sure to never drive down the same route twice. No, you weren’t gathering money for yourself and completely brushing off Giran, like your partner was suspecting. She has no idea what she’s talking about so she needs to shut up already and help you sell this jewelry that you worked so hard in stealing.

Okay, maybe Giran has been trying to call you for the past couple of days and you were officially ghosting him, but she didn’t need that knowledge to add to her stress. You probably weren’t even in any danger. The deal didn’t cost that much, and he didn’t seem like the type of guy to get truly pissed over some petty crook like you, right?

It’s been a week since the due date, and you both were still safe and sound. It was time to get your paranoid little buddy and discuss your next course of action.

When you reached her shoddy rented room, the door was already cracked open. Strange, and very careless; she should know better. You pushed it the remainder of the way and strutted inside. “Don’t leave your door open, dumbass. Anyway, I gotta—”

Your partner was sprawled out on the bed, open eyes still showing hints of the terror that she most definitely felt before her body became riddled with bullets. The smell of smoke and blood finally reached your nose when the shock of the scene before you wore off. The poor gal probably didn’t deserve such a gruesome fate.

“Oh…nevermind.” You close the door and briskly walk through the hall and out of that dangerous building.

------

This all led up to you speeding to your own run-down apartment.

‘Don’t jump to conclusions, now. This might have nothing to do with Giran. Maybe she pissed off some guys behind my back, or maybe I pissed them off and they found her before they found me. I keep forgetting just how many shit-lists probably have my name on them.’

Whatever it was, that instinctive twist in your gut was telling you that it was no longer safe around these parts. You had overstayed your welcome, anyway.

You glanced in every direction as you entered the building. At what time was your partner killed? If they’re after you too, do they already know where you live? There was no time to waste.

Checking to see that you weren't being followed, you entered your room and went straight to packing. You were basically a drifter, so you had few long-term possessions, so few that they could all fit into one bag. You packed your clothes, essential groceries, and your knickknacks that were ripe for selling. You’re loaded up and ready to go, and you don’t even need to go through the trouble of contacting an accomplice anymore. It’s those paper-thin silver linings that keep you going through this endless shitstorm of a life. With a silent goodbye to your short-lived home, you made your way to the door…

And a series of knocks freezes you in your tracks.

The sudden quickening of your heartbeat was dizzying. Shit. Shit shit shit. Whoever is on the other side can’t be friendly, but you had checked! You made sure no one was tailing you!

You backed away while your eyes darted around, deciding if you should defend yourself or find an alternate route to escape. Your only line of defense was a switchblade, so fighting was probably as bad of an idea as it usually was. You looked back to the single window in the room. ‘The fire escape.’

Several harder knocks spurred you into action. You unlocked and pulled at the old window, the worn frame almost breaking off as it opened. The damn ladder and stairs were one room across, but you can jump across the sills if you were careful enough.

There were more knocks, this time followed by a male voice. “Why the hell are we knocking? She’s not gonna answer.”

Another man responded. Shit, there’s more than one? “True. I just like to give the peaceful route a try.”

Something happened to the door that your fear-addled mind couldn’t comprehend. In the span of a second, the wooden door’s shape was warped and shrunken down into a small sphere. You didn’t spend any time to observe the two men at the entrance—you were already scrambling out of the window. The small ledge was difficult to balance on. If you could just get enough leverage for a jump…

“Oi!”

Fuck, you had to take the leap now, but before you could, a pair of hands took hold of you. In a blind panic, you drew your small blade and swung wildly at your attacker, doing your best not to lose your footing. One hand drew back and you heard a hiss of something like “little bitch”, and you thought this was your chance to break free and get away, but the hand still gripping the waist band of your pants got hot, so hot that it reached your skin and had you yelling in pain from the intense heat. With a powerful yank, you were falling back into the room and being pinned to the floor.

‘No no come on, Lady Luck. You’re always here to save my ass, right? I could use your help right fucking now.”

You thrashed and screamed, but then you saw the face of your captor and ew, that shit made you scream even louder. At least make the last face you see more appealing and less…burnt.

The burned man just looked annoyed while holding you down. “Just compress her already.”

Compress? What? Were they about to crush you? That sounds like a really shitty way to go. A gloved hand was pressed to your head, and everything began to distort at a rate too fast for your mind.

It was dark…you felt like you were floating…are you dead? Did it happen that fast? At least it was painless. There was a voice echoing somewhere, but all you saw was blackness. It sounded like it was coming from above. “God?” He’s real, after all?

God sounded very similar to the burnt asshole that attacked you. “That was easy. Why did he need us for this?”

The other voice that you still couldn’t attach a face to answered. “Giran does a lot for the League. It’s only fair that we do him the occasional favor, isn’t it? Her partner has already been taken care of.”

Well shit. Not only were you still alive, but you had been captured in some way to be delivered to him. You wanted to believe that you were in no serious danger, but no one sends two guys to break into your place and abduct you unless they had something sadistic in mind. Maybe your late partner was onto something this whole time.

The talking continued, but the sound was so faint. It’s like you were wearing a thick pair of earmuffs. This entire void, or whatever it is, was uncomfortable—the darkness seemed vast, yet it felt claustrophobic and heavy, like a powerful gravity preventing you from moving. What kind of quirk was this?

The mystery man was talking again. “Your arm is bleeding.”

“Oh right, she caught me with that little blade.” The burnt one said calmly. “It’s not that bad. My arms can’t feel much.”

“It’s not the pain I’m worried about; find something to wrap it up!” There was a sound that was difficult to discern, possibly a long sigh. “She made quite a scene at the window. I hope she didn’t bring any attention to us.”

You heard a grunt from the burnt one and could picture him shrugging. “If anyone asks, we’ll just say that she was a jumper and we stopped her.”

“…Who in the world tries to jump from only three stories?”

“A dumbass, and I’m pretty sure that’s what she is.”

The burnt guy can kiss your ass.

Their conversations were the only indication of time passing. Maybe you heard a few noises from whatever area they were currently in, such as a car passing by or a dog barking, but it was all too muffled to know for sure.

You hope you won’t be stuck in this prison for too long. The emptiness of it all was going to drive you insane. The abyss apparently sensed your distressed, shaping lights and colors all around and lifting the phantom weight off of you so quickly that you had to hold down a rush of bile in your throat.

It’s still fairly dark…a dimly lit room, no furniture, your knees on a hardwood floor, a figure sitting in front of you…

“Good morning.”

A greeting has never filled you with so much dread, uttered by a voice you haven’t heard in nearly two weeks.

The big-time broker himself was seated before you in a simple metal chair. When you met him in the bar to do business together, he had such a nonchalant aura around him, friendly yet detached. The smirk on his face seemed permanent, wearing it even now as he stared down at you, the little rat that has been hiding in the cracks of the city to avoid his sight. You didn’t feel threatened at all when you spoke in the bar; part of you knew that this man was in no way harmless, but he didn’t go out of his way to intimidate.

But now, even with the same relaxed posture and the same informal tone, his presence was sending strong chills down your spine with your brain screaming DANGER.

Giran leaned in, elbows resting on his thighs and a lit cigarette tucked between his fingers. The hanging bulbs illuminated only parts of his face, leaving the rest in a menacing shadow. “How have you been?”

You had no idea how to answer that. “F-fine?”

He gave a satisfied hum, as if he cared about your wellbeing. “That’s good to know. You’ve been hard to contact lately, so I had no idea.”

You swallowed, or at least you tried, but your throat was forgetting how to work properly. “I…” A cough escaped you. “I’ve been busy.”

His gruff chuckle unsettled you. “Of course. We’re all so busy these days, aren’t we? I’m not the type to stick my nose in others’ business, but may I ask what you’ve been so busy with? Hopefully something that involved gathering my money?” There it was.

Creating some more distance between your potential killer might help you think a little more clearly through the loud beating in your head, so you crawl backwards on shaky limbs like a drunk crab. “Y-yes! I’ve been doing my best, it’s just that I ran into a little problem an—” You bumped into something, turning your head to see a man looming over you. His attire was sharp, like that of a showman—even had a damn top hat. However, the mask he wore was rather ominous, the strange pattern resembling an abstract face. He didn’t budge when you had backed into his leg, only looking down at you as if you were a scared kitten.

In the corner of your vision you noticed the burnt one leaning back against the wall, watching you with disinterest. If it weren’t for the cold stare and the peril that he’s already put you through, you’d dare to admit that the greenish-blue hue of his eyes were kind of pretty.

“Don’t mind them,” Giran said with a lazy wave. “Those two are being kind enough to stick around in case I need them again. So, you were saying?”

You tried to recall where you were in your improvised excuse, and decided that you couldn’t risk having such a lie backfire. “I-I’m working on it. I have most of it so far. I just need a little more time.”

Giran’s face didn’t change. “And how much do you have?”

“Um…I…” What the hell do you say? Are you just digging yourself deeper? Is it possible to go any deeper? “Maybe I don’t have most, but I will soon so—”

“How much do you have?” It was firmer this time, making you shrink back. Dancing around his question wasn’t a good idea.

With a shaky breath, you answered quietly, “A hundred thousand yen.”

Giran placed the cigarette between his lips and took a long drag before blowing out a small cloud of toxic fumes. “A hundred thousand…of my three hundred thousand yen.”

Fuck, when he says it like that, maybe that is a lot of money to be missing out on.

You honestly wished he would show some sort of anger; his unwavering calmness was making you more anxious than any kind of rage.

“Can you tell me what you didn’t understand?” He asked.

“Huh? What…do you mean?” You couldn’t hold back the tremble in your voice.

“When we talked, I thought I made my measures clear. I give you the weapons, you pay me within the next five days. For every late day, I add more to what you already owe me. And if you take way too long, I’ll have to personally show you why you shouldn’t make deals where you can’t hold up your end.” He took another drag. You’re getting a feeling that the shrinking roll of tobacco is playing a big role in maintaining his leveled head. “Well, that all sounds clear to me, but there must be something in that explanation that didn’t get through to you, because you just ignored all of it.” Those final words were topped with a humorless laugh.

Just like that, every foolish decision you’ve made during the past week slams down on you. You were like a child that was confident they could escape whatever punishments were planned for them, now that they were finally caught, they just wanted to blubber endless apologies in hopes of being forgiven, and that’s exactly what you do. “Please, please just give me more time. I’m sorry. I just need another chance.”

Giran simply rests his head in one of his hands while pondering. “You know, this normally wouldn’t bother me. I consider myself an even-tempered guy. But you just had to go and run, avoiding my calls and hiding away for an entire week. If there’s anything that steams me up,” his brows furrowed, the first physical sign of anger that he’s shown. “It’s when an uncooperative client runs from me. Sorry about your friend, but I had to make sure I got my point across. Now it’s your turn.”

He reached into his violet jacket and pulled out a knife. Most of it was a large bulky handle, topped with a short but efficiently thin and curved blade. A wood carving knife.

As he rose from his chair and approached, you were suppressing the urge to just laugh at your own distress, a habit of yours that has caused more than one misunderstanding in the past.

“Compress, if you will.” Giran’s hand beckoned you upwards.

The man still behind you, apparently named Compress, locked both of your wrists at your back before pulling you up on your feet. “Hey-I-Wha-Wait a minute! We can talk! I can fix this!” You stuttered in pure desperation. Giran was poking at the tip of the knife and testing its sharpness, paying no attention to your pleas.

“It’s a shame, really. I happen to have one major weakness,” he admitted while inspecting his pricked finger. “Women. I’m always going easy on them—giving them more chances than they deserve. I can’t help it.” He grips your cheeks roughly, making you squeak. “And it really breaks my heart that I have to ruin such a pretty lady.”

“You don’t have to.” Your squished puckered lips sputter out, making you look and sound ridiculous. “Maybe I cou—"

The knife hovering so close to your face silences you. “Where should I start?” He wondered. You hold as still as possible while the sharp metal lingers dangerously close to your eye. “Maybe I should take out an eye? Maybe both?” His grip on your face prevents you from turning away, so you shut your eyes instead, accidentally releasing the tears that have been gathering in the corners. You feel his hand lower to hold your chin so that he can press the blade against the side of your face, so close to breaking skin. “Or maybe I’ll carve out your cheeks?” A thumb brushes against your lips and pushes past them. “You are quite a talker. Maybe I ought to go in there and remove that tongue.”

Your eyes remain closed, trying to focus on something else. The full-body tremors that you couldn’t stop, the press of Compress’s body against your back as he held onto your wrists, anything but the deadly blade trailing across your flesh. Every time the cruel man applied pressure, you braced yourself for the pain of cold steel cutting into you like fresh produce, but he would always pull back. It was pure torture and he hasn’t even harmed you yet.

“Hmm, you really are a cute one,” you heard him murmur as the knife trailed down your neck and across your collar. “Do I really want to carve such pretty skin?”

There was a loud groan, prompting your eyes to open and look to the burnt one who left his post at the wall. “For fuck’s sake, old man. How about I handle this so you don’t have to play mental tug-o-war with yourself?”

Giran didn’t seem fazed by the crude way he was addressed. “Oh? What did you have in mind, Dabi?”

Dabi gave an evil smirk of his own as he walked over. “I wonder how badly I can burn a person without killing them.” A scarred hand was placed on your shoulder and you squirmed at the rising heat. “Maybe we can find out together. How about it, girlie?”

You felt the other man behind you shake with a soft laugh. “So cruel, Dabi. I’m a gentleman myself. I could help, but taking a limb or two from such a beauty would be an unforgivable crime.” The implication of what he could do with his quirk made you fear for your arms that were still in his grasp.

“Great. Chivalry isn’t dead in the world of villains.” Dabi rolled his eyes. “You’re not wrong, though. She doesn’t look bad.”

There were too many hands on you. A rough aged hand caressed your throat and jaw, a gloved hand was tenderly running through your hair, and burned ones were shamelessly groping your chest and squishing your breasts. “Stop! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Shut it.” Dabi snapped, not letting up his assault. “Burning you might be a waste. Maybe I should just fuck you instead.”

Your stomach twisted in disgust at the very thought. The other two men pulled back and stilled at the suggestion. This nasty motherfucker wishes he’d get some. At least there were more reasonable voices in the room to keep the sicko away.

“Well now, that’s not a bad idea.” Giran declared with a nod of approval.

‘Ex-fucking-scuse me?’

Compress gave your shoulder a suggestive squeeze. “A vulgar way of putting it, but it’s an idea I can get behind.”

“Then it looks like we’ve all come to a new agreement.” The sleazebag exhaled smoke right into your face, stinging your already watery eyes and forcing several coughs out of you. “I hope you’re alright with that, darling.”

You shook your head fast enough to disorient yourself. “No! This is sick! Get your hands off me!”

“No good, huh? You think I should stick to the original plan?” Dabi dared you with a dazzling blue flame appearing in his palm. The memory of his scorching touch had you freezing up. “I’m just kidding, I don’t give a shit if you want this or not. This ain’t a friendly hookup.”

Compress leaned into your ear, voice sounding horribly close even with the mask protecting you from his lips. “I’m going to let you go now, and you’re going to cooperate with us, right? Surely you know how outmatched you are.”

Yes, you knew, yet there’s a little voice strongly urging you to fight and attempt an escape anyway. But you knew that will only end in pain and possibly death, and even though you were dreading what they had planned for you, the pitiful survivor in you is willing to sacrifice your dignity to stay alive. And so, you nodded.

“Very good,” you heard the smile in his praise. Your tender wrists were released so that he could take the hem of your shirt and slowly begin to pull it up. Your arms remained stiffly at your sides, the oppressive air around the three dangerous villains suffocating and leaving you light-headed.

“Cooperation, remember?” Compress reminded you.

With a hitched breath, you raised your arms, allowing him to peel the shirt off and throw it aside. Dabi wasted no time in exploring your newly revealed skin, while the gloved hands moved on to work at your bra and Giran undid your pants. You try to keep your breathing steady as you’re stripped, even when your pants fall down to your ankles. The second your bra is unclasped, you move to cover your freed breasts, only for the scarred bastard to slap your arms away.

“Quit it, I’m trying to feel you up,” He wasn’t very gentle in handling you, and his texture was so strange, wrinkled skin and the staples keeping him together scraping across your mounds. While he ventured lower, the other two men took their turn with your feminine assets.

Giran was fondling you slowly, but he seemed to be paying much more attention to your face, the face that you were having a very hard time keeping blank while Compress was massaging your other breast way too tenderly. It would help to shut your eyes once again, but that only enhances their touches, sparking goosebumps all over and threatening to pull a moan from your throat. You chose to look to the side and hide away from the broker’s dull gaze, but there was no avoiding Dabi’s hand palming your clothed sex, making you yelp. “AH! Don’t! You can’t just—”

He squeezed you down there, sending a foreign buzz through your abdomen. “What the hell did I just say?” He scolded. “I think I know how to shut you up.”

Giran made an amused hum. “Well Dabi, given you were the one who suggested this, I’ll grant you the honor of teaching her a lesson first.”

Your stomach dropped at the rough lips parting into a toothy grin. “You’re too kind.”

“Just don’t ruin her too quickly, alright?” Compress urged him before patting your back and stepping away. Giran also turned away and returned to his chair, leaning back with one leg crossing over the other.

The only one holding you now was the fiery villain; it had you sweating profusely even without the use of his quirk.

“Now, on your knees,” he ordered and pushed down onto your shoulders, forcing you to kneel. Your chest was tightening painfully when he unbuckled his belt to draw his half-hard cock. It wasn’t exactly any comfort, but it was wholly intact unlike the rest of him. “Start sucking.”

You kept your lips sealed and shook your head, only to have your hair grabbed and yanked back. Your pained cry was all he needed to shove his meat into your mouth. Your shout changed into a gag from the fleshy intrusion.

“Sweetheart,” the pet name was uttered with a mocking venom. “I’m trying to give you the benefit of a doubt and believe that you don’t have the memory of a dead goldfish, but in case you do, let me remind you that we brought you here to hurt you.” That dreaded heat was back, his hand threatening to call those blue flames and set your hair ablaze. “So which would you rather deal with: being carved and burned into a bloody mess, or having to please a couple of dicks? Doesn’t the latter sound more bearable?”

You couldn’t pull back to answer, his hold on your head tight and unyielding, so you nodded.

But for some reason, that didn’t satisfy him. “I need you say it. Come on, you can do it.”

‘No I can’t, you overcooked motherfucker! What do you want from me?’ Having no idea what to do but also not wanting to try his patience any further, you worked your voice around the thick rod and managed a choked and barely comprehensible “mmyeff.”

The sloshed word made Dabi laugh and you felt him twitch on your tongue. “Cute. That’s good enough. Now put that mouth to work so I won’t have to turn your head into a torch.”

Admitting defeat, you moved your head to take in more of his growing erection, wriggling your tongue in a poor attempt to get away from his salty taste, only to stimulate him in the process. You feel him respond with shaky breaths, but the fact that you’re servicing this terrible man doesn’t make you want to try any harder.

Dabi realizes your slow pace isn’t changing and his grumpiness quickly returns. “Oh come on, put a little more energy into it. A quirkless bitch living in the worst part of town, this can’t be the first time you’ve had to suck dick to save your life.” You look up and glare at him, which didn’t do much to intimidate when you were blowing him at the same time. He only smirked. “If you don’t pick up the pace, then I’ll have to take charge, and I don’t think you’d want that.”

You push yourself to put in more effort, taking in more of his now fully swollen cock and gagging pathetically. Despite what the singed shithead had guessed, you weren’t experienced with this. Your sex life boils down to a couple of hookups. This hectic existence with its cast of untrustworty characters wasn’t suitable for any kind of serious relationship, and sexual favors were something you tried to avoid as much as possible. Those rare nights with a partner were nothing like this, and you sure as hell would never ask for a fucking audience. A wisp of smoke nearby reminded you of Giran’s presence.

The sick broker was just sitting and watching with interest, his smirk still present. He seemed satisfied with just watching you in this humiliating state. Compress stood out of sight, but he was most likely doing the same. It made you just want to curl up and hide from these hungry eyes.

You heard a tired sigh over you as Dabi adjusted his grip and was now holding both sides of your face.There was no warning when he thrusted forward to jam himself into the back of your throat, the sting making your eyes well up.

“Sorry, but I think I’ve given you enough chances,” Dabi panted while reveling in the feel of your mouth all around him. His cock slid back and allowed you to breathe for just a second or two before plunging back in.

Breathing through your nose was the only option as he pumped in and out of your throat with little restraint. You gurgled helplessly and tried to push at his thighs to keep him from going so deep, but that only made him chuckle and fuck your mouth more roughly. He was in complete control now, so all you could do was take it as best as you could. Saliva gathered as your throat was violated, some of it oozing past your lips and running down your chin.

“Look at you, turning into a drooling mess for my cock. You like having your mouth fucked just like a pussy?” Demeaning words were spoken between his grunts, commenting on the depraved state of your face—you could only imagine how you looked at the moment with your extra lubricated mouth allowing him to move in and out more easily.

The erratic slams of his hips against your face signaled that this torture will be ending soon, as long as you could endure the assault on your windpipe that was making you dizzy. Any cry of distress or plea to slow down was reduced to wet gurgles and more spit bubbling from your mouth. With a teeth-clenched growl, Dabi presses your face flush against his pelvis, engulfed by his musky scent as cum shoots straight down your throat. Black spots were appearing in your vision with both your nose and throat blocked. ‘Can’t breathe…can’t…’

“Hang in there, just need to make sure you swallow every last drop.” He keeps your head locked in place so that you could feel every spasm as he feeds you his seed. Finally, he releases you and steps back, allowing oxygen to rush into your lungs as you coughed and wheezed.

“Whoops, maybe I went a little overboard,” Dabi joked at your shaking form that was hunched over hacking up a mixture of saliva and semen. That fucking bastard…

“You think?” A sarcastic remark sounded from an approaching presence behind you. Compress kneels beside you, placing a hand on your back as your coughing fit slowly died down. “That’s not my ideal way of punishing a lady. Wouldn’t you agree, Giran?”

You didn’t have the strength to look at said man and the amused expression that he was undoubtedly wearing. “I’m not picky myself. It was a good show,” you heard him say. You can physically feel your dignity leaving you.

“Well, I can give you a better one.” The phony gentleman grabbed and straightened you up. You noticed that he had removed his hat, his head concealed by what may be a ski mask. It was strangely symbolic—beneath all of that pizzazz was just another unforgiving criminal. “Dabi certainly did a number on you, didn’t he?” He observed, fingers tracing over your chest and the drying drool that had trailed down. You heard a “damn right” from Dabi who had returned to his spot at the wall. “Don’t worry, darling. I won’t leave you so roughed up.”

His words did nothing to alleviate the growing fear as his hand wandered down to your panties, fingers pressing against the damp cloth. “Oh my…and here I was thinking he was being too hard on you. Looks like you didn’t hate it as much as I thought.”

You shuddered at the small chorus of laughter from all three men. Dabi took the opportunity to taunt you again. “I had a feeling she was the type that loves being treated like a hole. The bitch probably would have gotten off if I went a little longer, not that she deserves to.”

“Ah, but I think she does. In fact,” Compress pulled the underwear to the side and touched your slick directly, making you gasp. “I’d say she deserves more than she can handle.”

“N…St…op…” Your voice was hoarse from the abuse your throat had gone through. His fingers began soft strokes against your glistening folds, a feeling that wasn’t unpleasant, but you held back your whimpers to avoid both the vocal strain and giving him any gratification.

The gloved digits moved skillfully across your sensitive lips, kindling a hot desire deep inside of you. No, you really didn’t want to be feeling that from him. Your own hands curl into fists when you feel him prod at your opening, just barely penetrating you and making you bite your lip in a painful effort to suppress a moan.

He looks right at you; you can only guess what face he was making. “Trying not to make any noise, are you?” His free hand removed the patterned mask, revealing chocolate eyes and a smile that wasn’t at all sweet. “I sure do love a challenge. Then again, I already know that I’ll win.”

Any retort you had prepared died on your lips when two fingers slipped into your heat, unable to hold back your whimper even with your mouth closed. “There it is,” he purred close to your face. “But I think we can do better.”

Your cunt throbbed with each brush against your walls. He couldn’t go too deep in your current position, but that didn’t deter him as he pistoned in and out, flexing his fingers every which way until he found that forbidden spot that made you wail. The white hot heat was threatening to smother you completely. You found yourself grasping his arm and weakly pushing at it, silently begging to make it stop before you burst.

‘Don’t look ahead…Giran is watching…don’t look ahead…’ The mantra repeated in your head, echoing loudly to distract you from the unstable knot in your core. The inner chant was to no avail—several hard presses against your nerves had you crumbling beneath the searing heat of your climax. With no restraint remaining, your broken whines rushed out of your convulsing body and echoed through the room. A thumb circles your clit and prolongs the all-powerful sensation.

“Try to bear it, darling.” Compress says to you, but his voice sounds so far away, drowned out by the vibrations starting from your pussy and spreading all over, engulfing you. Even after your orgasm passes, the assault on your sensitive womanhood doesn’t stop, the sensations becoming painful. You would have fallen over if Compress wasn’t holding you, his arm wrapped around you in an insultingly affectionate embrace as he continued to overstimulate you. The words falling from your lips were weak and incoherent, the occasional ‘no’ and ‘too much’ being heard.

Sobbing in the villain’s shoulders, you can make out the blurred violet figure in your foggy vision, still lounging and taking silent delight in your struggles. You just barely noticed the slight curve of his lips as Compress forced you to cum again, pitting your muscles against another wave of excruciating spasms. This time he did let you collapse, your body sprawled out on the floor as your walls continued to clench.

“Hmmph, not bad.” Dabi can be heard, and his voice alone makes your throat burn again.

Compress was still close, curiously squishing your juices between his fingers. “I could have gone for longer, but she still needs energy for the main act.”

You hear a dark laugh from Giran. “So generous of you Compress. What would I do without you gentlemen? Just do me one more favor and remove the rest of your clothes.”

“Of course,” the showman moved over to fully strip you. You stayed limp as he pulled your drenched panties down along with your pants that were still hanging at your feet, then moving on to remove your shoes. You were now completely bare, body shivering despite the warm still air of the room.

“Alright, miss. That’s enough rest. Time to get up and come over here.” Giran orders coolly. There was no urgency in his voice, but you knew you shouldn’t keep him waiting. If only your entire lower body wasn’t screaming. Compress sensed your plight and took hold of your waist, prepared to pull you up.

“No no,” Giran held up a hand while stomping out his cigarette. “She’s a big girl and can stand on her own.”

Compress simply shrugged and retreated, leaving you to force your aching arms and legs to move and lift you up.

Even after being violated, you still couldn’t resist covering your chest and mound as you slowly approached the man that you deeply regret ever getting involved with. You tried to ignore how gross your body felt—the salty fleshy taste lingering on your tongue, the wetness that continued to run down your  legs, your bare feet shuffling across the old dusty floor. There was a prominent bulge in his pants, revealing just how much this was all exciting him.

“Sit down and have a ride on me.” It was said so casually that you needed a moment to comprehend.

Dabi barked impatiently. “Hey, don’t just stand there like a modest statue.”

Realizing that Giran isn’t going to take out his erection himself, you lean in to open up his pants, fighting every urge to pull your hands away as they work at the buttons and zipper, pulling down his underwear to watch his cock spring out. He didn’t seem to react, only watching your face like he has been since you’ve been tossed into this damned place. You stare at his waiting dick until you accept that you have to get closer, standing over his legs before lowering yourself down onto his lap. You have to grab the soft yet firm organ to keep it in place as it touches your opening.

He was so close, smoke-scented breath hitting your skin. There was no way to avoid his gaze at this proximity. He was free to see all of the shameful details on your tear-stained face.

It pains you to admit that Compress’s fingers made the stretch more bearable as Giran’s head pushes into your cavern that was still sensitive from the previous man’s onslaught. You had to place your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself as your hips sunk down on him, breaths shallow throughout your poor attempt to stay relaxed and not tighten up. Several inches later, you had him fully sheathed inside you.

“Good. Very good.” His voice was low and rugged, eyes closing briefly so that he can take in your surrounding heat. “Now start moving. I didn’t bring you over just to keep me warm.”

You didn’t have enough pride left to protest, so you did as instructed, slowly lifting your hips before bringing them back down, ignoring the strain put on your thighs. Giran placed a hand on your ass, the contact making your pace falter for just a second. He looked so at ease as you bounced on him that you wondered, if it was just the two of you, perhaps you could have taken this as an opportunity to attack. But in the current situation, it would only lead to certain death. The thought leaves your mind as quickly as it came.

“Three days.” The two words cut through your weary breaths and the squelch of your pussy. You give Giran a look of confusion before he specifies. “I’m giving you three more days to collect the money.”

The news surprises you enough to halt your hips, an action he doesn’t approve of.

“I didn’t say stop.” The warning in his tone had you instantly moving again. He lightened at your compliance; he sure knew how to flip his friendly mode on and off like a damn light switch. “Very good. I’m trying to show you some more mercy here. Don’t ruin it for yourself. Anyway, you need to hurry and do whatever you can to get that money. Steal, call some old friends, maybe sell your body? I don’t think you’d be half-bad at that.” He gave your rear a light smack, making your walls squeeze him in shock. “If you don’t have enough by the time we meet again, your lovely body won’t stop me from peeling your skin off a second time. Are we clear, sweetheart?”

The fear from his threat grips your chest as you keep trying to please him, moving in a way that keeps his dick away from your g-spot. “Yes,” you whimper through your pants.

Giran caught on to what you were doing. “I’m not convinced.” Both of his hands take hold of your hips and push you down, forcing stimulation on your hypersensitive bundle of nerves. A scream rips through your burning throat. “I’ll say it again: Are we clear?”

“Yes!” Your voice cracks and tears are flowing down your face once again.

“You won’t run from me again?”

“No! I swear I won’t!”

“Good girl.” He was the one setting the pace at this point, forcing you up and down in pursuit of his release. There was another agonizing orgasm growing in your abdomen, but the hands controlling your movements weren’t giving you a chance to escape the inevitable storm.

The final slam collides his throbbing cock with your cervix, and the pained pleasure has you quivering in his hold, crinkling his shirt with your white-knuckled grip as you cried out from every foul spurt into your womb. His soft groans were heated against your neck.

His pats of approval on your back are enough to push your worn figure into his chest. He chuckles and rubs you like a lover that didn’t just force you into the most disgraceful moment of your life. “I’m glad we could come to an agreement.”

Despite your limbs feeling like pure lead, you wanted to get off this man as soon as possible. “Please just let me go.”

His smile filled you with a fresh wave of dread. “Soon, darling. But I need to make sure I’ve made my point. I think the other two gentlemen would appreciate a turn.”

You heard the quick footsteps before he even finished, scarred hands grabbing and pulling you off of Giran’s softening cock. Fuck, the two had been so quiet for the past moment that you forgot about their presence.

You jolt at the feel of Dabi’s revived hard-on pressing against your back while Compress stops right in front of you, his own length bobbing freely. You flinched at the damp gloves caressing your chin and lips.  “Are you ready to return the favor? Don’t worry, I won’t treat your mouth as badly as Dabi did.”

“Sadly,” The crueler man behind you added before pressing down and bending you forward, your head now leveled with Compress’s waiting dick.

“Open up for me,” he orders with a hand resting in your hair. Your jaw still ached from the last cock in your mouth; you hoped that he truly was going to at least be more gentle as you parted your lips and took him in.

Dabi rubbed up and down your spine as he watched. “Well look at you, such an obedient little bitch now.” He began to knead your ass cheeks before spreading them, your body tensing in fear as a finger toyed with your back entrance.

“I’m not a fan of sloppy seconds, guess I’ll have to take another hole.” It was the only warning he gave before his thickness was pushing forcefully into your unprepared ass. The searing pain was as intense as his quirk, your muffled shrieks vibrating against Compress and making him moan. Dabi smiled at your suffering. “Can’t complain, ‘cause this sounds a lot better. Hope I don’t do too much damage in there.”

He fucked you as hard and fast as your tight passage would allow, pushing the other villain’s dick further into your throat with each thrust.

Soon, they will switch places. And then they will take you separately. And Giran will stay seated, taking pleasure in watching you break.

Your mind eventually wanders to what will happen afterwards, if there is any possible way to right the biggest wrong you’ve ever committed…or if you simply had three days left to live.

It feels like luck is done saving you.

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

tagging @mothwithteeth​ because their thirst for Giran inspired me. Go check them and their awesome work out!

[jedifighterpilot2727]

Quarantined Supercorp HCs

-L-Corp has all employees work from home, and the employees who have nonessential jobs that require them to come in are told to stay home but they still make a full salary

- L-Corp donates like a billion dollars to food banks around the country and all L-Corp owned residential buildings suspend rent payments while the quarantine is in affect

- L-Corp also turns all of its manufacturing facilities into mask and ventilator production and its science labs work on developing an antidote

- Supergirl films a PSA encouraging everyone to stay home and look out for each other

- The virus doesn’t affect Kryptonians, but as luck would have it, a baddie tries to take advantage of the quarantine and Kara blows out her powers trying to stop them

-Of course Lena offers to have Kara stay with her so they can be quarantine buddies and she can make sure Kara doesn’t do something reckless in her powerless state

- Kara’s days consist of writing articles from home (she does some hard hitting stuff, but she also puts out tons of buzzfeed style quizzes and archive posts to keep people entertained), and begging Lena to stop working so hard so they can watch movies

- Kara also has an epic Sims game going (she may or may not have modeled her love interest after Lena)

- They order SO MUCH TAKEOUT, like they probably singlehandedly keep all of Kara’s favorite restaurants open

- Of course they end up in the same bed, (come on, where did you think this was going?), it starts out as “wouldn’t it be so much more comfortable to watch this romantic comedy in bed instead of on the couch?” and then it inevitably morphs into an every night thing

- There’s definitely points where they walk in on each other changing/getting out of the shower

- They also have few petty fight (I mean you can’t expect to suddenly move in together and start spending 24/7 together and not fight about some things)

- There’s an emergency at one of the factories and Lena has to go in to fix it

- Kara freaks out because she’s literally spent the past few weeks trying to ignore the whole situation because it makes her feel like the whole world is dying and she can’t do anything about it and it reminds her entirely too much of Krypton (She definitely needs therapy)

- Lena laughs her off (not realizing quite how upset Kara is) and assures her that she’ll be back as quickly as she can

- Well, it ends up being a bigger issue than she thought and it ends up taking so long that Kara works her self up into panic mode and gets her powers back

- She immediately flies out to the factory, and Lena is hella surprised because she left her powerless best friend on the couch five hours ago and now Supergirl is standing in front of her looking completely terrified

- Lena asks her what’s wrong and Kara tells her how scared she is that Lena is going to get sick and die (she might also kind of blurt out that she’s in love)

- Lena tells her that she can’t have this conversation right now and for Kara to go back home and that she’ll be there as soon as she can

- Kara is really freaking out now because she definitely didn’t mean to let that slip and of course Lena is going to hate her for it

- When Lena comes home, she reassures Kara that she’s fine and that she will continue to be fine; and she also sets up some video therapy for Kara with one of Kelly’s psych friends.

- After Kara has finally calmed down some, she decides to bring up the elephant in the room

“So, about what you said.”

“Listen,” Kara interrupts. “We don’t have to mention it, we can just forget I even said anything.”

“Is that what you want?”

Kara pauses.

“I mean it’s what you want, you told me that you couldn’t have the conversation and that I should just go home. So I kind of assumed that you don’t feel the same and we were just going to ignore what I said.”

“No, I told you that I couldn’t have that conversation right then; because I didn’t want to have such an important discussion in the middle of a factory floor when you were in obvious distress.”

Kara drops her eyes and fiddles with the hem of her pajama top until Lena reaches out to grab her hand.

“Now I need to know,” Lena continues gently. “Did you say what you said because you really feel that way? Or did you just say it because you were emotionally overwhelmed? Either answer is fine, but I need to know the truth.”

Kara takes a shaky breath, finally looking up to meet Lena’s eyes before answering.

“I love you. And not just like how someone is supposed to love their best friend; I mean yes, that too, but I also want to hold your hand and know what it feels like to kiss you. And I’ve felt this way for a long time, but being here with you all the time has just heightened everything, and I don’t want to mess up our friendship -”

“Kara, darling, take a breath.” Lena interrupts, leaning in. “I’m really glad we’re quarantine buddies.”

- Then they kiss and bang each others brains out for the rest of the quarantine

- When it’s all over Alex comments something along the lines of “Geez, all it took was a worldwide pandemic for you two to finally admit that you’re hopelessly in love with each other

- They all live happily ever after

[starlocked01]

A Bard in the Hand is Worth Something, Right?

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: Janus never had trouble getting exactly what he wanted in life until a careless royal in poor disguise stumbled into the same roadside inn.

Content Warning- Attempted Manipulation, Being chased by an animal, brief mentions of Alcohol

Day 13 Roceit-  Everyone has a superpower but when soulmates are close in proximity the powers are nullified.

"You will do exactly as I say. Buy me a drink."

"Woah, slow down there, little lady. I usually buy drinks for the fellas if you know what I mean," Janus stared in confusion at the unaffected smile from the regally dressed man. That wasn’t the correct response to his power. Being misidentified was even more annoying so he decided to try again.

"You will do exactly what I say. I am a man and you will refer to me as such," Janus smirked.

"My apologies, sir. I really shouldn't have assumed. Why do you keep saying that thing though? We can carry a normal conversation without you trying to twist my arm, right?" The stranger grinned and signaled to the barkeep for two ales. Janus was dumbfounded. He could charm anyone to his will, so why was this man acting so… free-willed?

"Hello?" The man waved his hand in front of Janus' face, offering him an ale, "are you alright?"

Janus shook his head to clear it, "I'm fine. Thank you. What is a member of the royal family doing in an inn far removed from the castle with no visible bodyguard?"

"Is it that obvious? I'm trying to make my own way in the world as a bard but apparently I'm nothing but royalty," the stranger sulked into his drink. Janus felt the smallest amount of pity for him. It was gone in a moment. The prince would get over the burden of his unfathomable wealth and power after getting tired of singing for a living.

Janus took a sip of his drink and debated trying to use his power again. He decided against it for the moment and instead asked, "are you any good at singing?"

"Am I? Yes. Yes, I am. I've always been a natural," the man grinned and offered his hand, "my name is Pr- Roman. Just Roman. What's yours?"

Janus took his hand and gave a firm shake, "Janus."

"Janice? I thought you said-"

"Jan-us," he replied, emphasizing the correct pronunciation. Perhaps he'd been foolish in his choice of name but the meaning fit him like a glove, and with others, he never had a problem being misgendered before. What made this prince different? 

"Well, Janus, would you like to see just how well I sing?" Roman smiled at the man and was gesturing toward the inn door.

"How do I know this isn't a trap?" Janus questioned him.

"By my word of honor. Perhaps honor does not mean much where you come from, but as you've already guessed, honor means a great deal to my family," Janus was slightly impressed with the pretty speech. He decided to trust this man at least far enough to walk outside with him. Really the prince was the one making a mistake trusting him.

Outside the inn, the prince started walking directly into the darkening woods, confusing Janus even further.

"Is that a wise choice, Roman?" he called after the man who turned back with a grin on his face.

"Just trust me!" Roman beckoned. Janus took a deep hissing breath through his teeth and stepped into the woods, remaining vigilant. There were dangerous creatures in these woods and even more dangerous people. 

He quickly caught up to the careless prince who seemed to be looking for something. After a few minutes, Roman stuck out his hand to stop Janus in his path. Roman bent down and picked up a snake, one of the most venomous varieties, and started singing.

Of all the ridiculous things Janus had seen in his life, this was the most reckless.

Roman started looking very confused as the snake hissed at him. Sensing it was about to strike, Janus lept forward and grabbed it safely, throwing far into the brush.

“You Idiot! That thing could have killed you!” he yelled at the prince who still didn’t look afraid as much as concerned, a hand on his chest.

“That usually works… why didn’t my power work?” 

“Your power of being utterly reckless like the high and mighty unaffected prince you are?” Janus bit back, not caring about the man’s power.

“Shut up, you are so cute when you’re angry!” Roman grinned, “but no, my power is communicating with animals through song.”

“I’ll make you eat those words, you fool!” Janus snarled and Roman just laughed. His merriment was quickly ended by a much deeper snarl coming from the brush. Roman positioned himself between the sound and Janus and started singing again. His voice faltered as a large black animal with two large horns emerged from the foliage. He sang louder, more desperately with no effect.

Roman glanced back at Janus, “that’s a Yale. I- I- I don’t know why this isn’t working but if it’s horns swivel, run.”

Janus nodded, not taking his eyes off the massive creature. The Yale struck the ground with its cloven foot and a snort. Roman started singing at the top of his lungs, shaky and barely melodic.

The right horn swiveled back while the left swiveled forward, pointed directly at the pair when the animal dipped its head down. 

“RUN!” Roman pushed Janus and they both took off, crashing through the forest in the twilight dark. They could hear the animal chasing them relentlessly. Branches scraped at their faces and clothes. When Janus felt as though he could run no longer he heard the snarl of the wild beast and pushed himself farther and farther into the dark.

Roman shoved Janus hard to the side, “you go that way! It can’t chase us both and I’ll distract it!” Janus didn’t have time to argue and veered hard as Roman started to sing again. 

Eventually, Janus could no longer hear the Yale or Roman, only the soft noises of bugs and frogs in the night. He must be near a pond. He stopped to catch his breath. In the quiet, he caught the sound of a soft and soothing melody. It was beautiful. It sounded like Roman. When he could stand again, Janus followed the voice to a clearing where he found Roman on the ground, surrounded by smaller forest animals, the snake they’d thrown earlier, and the massive Yale. Roman was petting it while singing soothingly. 

Janus stepped into the clearing and nearly all of the animals scattered away except the Yale. Roman looked up and nodded Janus over.

“They are remarkably intelligent once you get through their aggressive nature,” Roman grabbed Janus’s wrist and laid his hand on the Yale’s nose, humming reassuringly to the creature. Janus could hardly believe this was the same animal that had charged at them minutes earlier. 

“He’s beautiful,” Janus breathed, terrified of spooking the Yale.

“Yes, it is. You know I think I figured it out,” Roman sighed.

“Figured what out?” Janus asked.

“There is an old tale- and I know a five stanza song about it- about how powers are negated in the presence of your soulmate. Of course, soulmates are difficult to find, and even if you did, why would you want to be left powerless in their presence? But I think I understand. My singing didn’t work because you were close.”

“And my manipulation didn’t work on you,” Janus realized at once this prince must be right.

“So that’s what that was,” Roman grinned, “never fear, I will always respect you for who you are, my eventual love.”

They each stood up and the Yale let out an ethereal braying that left Janus shivering. Roman waved as he angled back the direction they had come running from, picking his way carefully around roots and plants, keeping Janus at his side. They eventually found their way back to the inn long after dark and the lamps outside had been lit. 

“I don’t suppose you need a bard companion?” Roman asked with a sly grin.

“Perhaps I could use some company on the road,” Janus smiled and took Roman’s hand in his, kissing his knuckles, “thank you for saving me, brave knight.”

Roman broke out into peeling laughter that rivaled the general commotion from inside the inn, “it was my pleasure, Sir Janus.”

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @tsshipmonth2020

[purplesunrisefanfic]

Sub!Abby/Dom!Nora Headcannons

Warnings:

Warning for lifestyle BDSM and sexually explicit content. There’s swearing and some use of a sexist slur (but only between two women for kinky name-calling reasons.) Body piercing and the strain of working as medic are mentioned. So are sub/Dom drop. There is some switching. Also, I do get increasingly gooey and hurt/comfort near the end.

Some of these got sexied up by @pinkchubbiebunnie in her post on this subject so they may look familiar ❤️

As usual no read more because the Tumblr app and Timblr mobile site SUCK. Apologies.

Now let’s get kinky:

Abby is envy about how Nora can always seem so cool and confident while she is just dripping mess so often.

Even more so because Nora can just naturally and breezily go from talking to Abby normally to talking like she owns her (coz she does) and back again as other people enter and leave earshot while Abby is always unsubtly clearing her throat whenever someone walks in.

In fact, she’s so scared she’ll accidentally call Nora Sir in front of someone else one day that she has literally planned exactly how she will make it out to be a joke just in case she needs to save face.

Abby envies this even more because she knows that Nora isn’t any less prone to feeling insecure or having lapses in confidence than she is, she’s just way better at hiding it.

Even when she really wants to fight back or be a brat, Abby just physically cannot, like her muscles just melt or rebel at even the idea of defying Nora because they know who they belong to.

Abby sometimes tries to avoid getting patched up by Nora especially if it’s not in private bc she knows she’ll be in trouble if there’s any signs she was reckless.

She feels torn about that though because even while she’s getting the look of “You know what a bad girl you’ve been and you know you are gonna pay for it” she still feels so soothed by Nora’s touch.

But Abby’s efforts to control who treats her make no difference anyhow because Nora knows exactly what she’s up to even though she doesn’t let on. Nora only lets Abby get patched up by someone else if Abby’s injuries are way minor.

The other medics figure that’s just a regular protective gf thing, which it totally is as well but it’s also about being possessive over who might be involved in any lasting/permanent marks on what’s hers.

Being in control with Abby soothes some of Nora’s work-related traumas. Her opinion as a medic is held in high regard for the most part but some soldiers are just too stubborn with medical advice. It can be pretty rough on Nora when she knows a patient of hers isn’t going to listen, no matter what she says, and will go back out too early and sometimes wind up returning dead or dying. So it’s really soothing that when it comes to the person she loves most in the world, she doesn’t have these worries.

Nora makes Abby do menial manual things quite a lot, she’s actually ambivalent about making Abby do this kinda stuff, or at least she would be ambivalent about it if it wasn’t so blatant that Abby loves just being treated like her grunt muscle.

They’re actually pretty much the same intelligence-wise, but Abby simps for how much medical and hospital logistics knowledge Nora has and just has warm fuzzies getting to be her trained pet taking orders and knowing there’s well-planned logistics but not knowing herself what they are. It’s like the opposite of being a soldier and needing to be observant, she can just be switched-off eye candy trusting in someone else.

Needless to say, Nora loves said eye candy. Abby doesn’t get to wear too much in their apartment unless it’s really cold.

She’d never admit it, but Nora low-key wants Abby to call her Daddy and hates that with what happened to Jerry she can’t ever see herself risking bringing that up with Abby.

She resents that even more bc she (correctly) feels sure that Abby would’ve absolutely loved that.

Abby can always tell, even in a busy place, whether it’s Nora or someone else snapping their fingers.

When Nora snaps her fingers, the rest of the world disappears. Like instant subspace, Abby could be next to clicker and forget all about it instant.

Nora gives the subtlest, carefully considered hints of underlying affection while seemingly objectifying Abby and it’s just exactly what her pet beefcake needs to feel that undercurrent of love while she gets off on being used.

Abby spends that much time on her knees that she sometimes forgets that Nora isn’t actually taller than her.

And not just on her knees eating Nora out (though she does that a lot) but just generally kneeling like a good girl for Sir.

Abby would physically drool over the idea of wearing a collar 24/7 if she thought about it for too long. Nora would physically drool if she looked at Abby wearing a collar for too long.

Abby is free to masturbate alone when she wants to but she’s not allowed to orgasm from it. She’s never broken that rule and she’d actually be upset if she somehow did come with Nora’s permission.

She worries it might be a little messed-up to feel this way but Nora really enjoys knowing that she’s only partner that has made Abby orgasm. Sorry not sorry Owen, you did not seem good in bed.

Abby ends up being such a good girl that Nora decides to start giving her regular maintenance punishments because Abby doesn’t like to go too long without one.

Nora is near constantly torn between how much she enjoys Abby fingers inside her versus how much she enjoys seeing the intense pining when she doesn’t let Abby do that for a while.

That’s Nora’s favourite problem to have.

Remember the Abby’s hair + rope bondage fantasy? Yeah, Nora is a pro at that.

Nora uses Abby’s braid like a leash, and tells Abby that wherever she is, anytime her hair is braided then she’s basically wearing her leash.

Abby tries so hard not to think about that on patrol, but if there isn’t any actual danger to keep her busy, she sometimes can’t help but think about it.

Abby keeps an eye out for suitable jewellery, and if she ever found some she would love for Nora to pierce her navel or one of her nipples.

When Nora gets Dom-drop Abby carries Nora in her arms so she can hold her tight and feel her strength while she tells her how much she loves her and loves their relationship. Nora feels kinda weightless with the way Abby holds her and it’s so reassuring.

When Abby gets sub-drop Nora wraps herself around Abby from behind, skin-to-skin, and leans her face in next to Abby’s. She strokes her neck and whispers praise.

They don’t switch often because they’re pretty full-on lifestyle but when they have a kind of switchy playtime sometimes where Abby gets to run riot with all her brute force strength, picking Nora up, pining her down, manhandling her. She undresses her roughly then mocks Nora for “thinking you’re always in charge when the truth is I could take you down in an instant,” then picks her up by her shoulders and holds her there so her arms and legs dangle in the air, just wanting to prove that she’s powerless. Abby enjoys getting her own back by embarrassing Nora for once, and she likes to hold their faces very close so she can spot the slight changes in the hue of her skin when she makes Nora blush. “You thought you could hide your blushes from me? I know you too well for that, darling. That pretty face of yours can’t keep any secrets from me. No more than the rest of your body. I don’t even need to look or touch to know that you’ll dripping wet for me by now. That little sting of shame burning your cheeks always makes you a needy little bitch, doesn’t it?”

When they’re having those switchy scenes, Nora gets off on denial. No-one is really sure if it’s a power play that intensifies Abby’s status as (temporary) Dom because she edges and torments Nora but never lets her come, or whether it’s actually the opposite, intensifying their background dynamic because in that respect Abby gets a lot less power when she plays Dom.

Either way, Nora finishes up blissfully satisfied about her lack of satisfaction. Even more so because the next time they play, Nora back as Dom and Abby back remembering that all the muscles in the world won’t stop her from being Nora’s little bitch, she’ll make Abby plead to be allowed to give Sir an orgasm.

Abby begs harder than she ever does for her own orgasms.

A fact with makes Nora feel like a goddess, whilst also being so much fun to rub Abby’s nose in.

“Aww listen to little Abby beg just to please me. She likes to think she’s so strong with all that time in the gym. But no amount of time keeping up that facade will change the reality, Abigail. Deep down, you’re no big, strong brute, just a helpless little girl. My helpless ickle pet, so desperate for approval you’d do anything to please me, wouldn’t you?”

Abby melts then admits Nora is right.

Then Nora tells Abby only one of them of them gets to come tonight and makes Abby decide who it is.

She always chooses Nora.

And never regrets it.

And in amongst all kink of it, that makes Nora feel so nurtured.

Fair warning: this is where it becomes obvious that FEELINGS are my ultimate kink onto which all other kinks collapse...

Yeah, there’s that intense thing where it’s like the way a sub can adore you and nurtures you that makes it so much easier to be strong and tough than it would otherwise be, and dealing with everything in that world and all the injuries Nora and having to be strong with all the horrors, it’s like it’s easier for Nora to be strong in all the ways she needs to just to live that life.

They like doing little things to look after each other because they both know the feeling where they are assumed to be super tough and don’t need to be nurtured but ofc they need and deserve softness.

This ship makes me wish I had the words to explain how all the kinky stuff is low-key so soft imo.

Abby doesn’t get into much trouble but one way she sometimes does is being too much of an overprotective gf when other people are involved.

Oh and Dom or not, Nora is still little spoon and sleeps 1000% better for it.

Hope y’all liked these. AMA (esp anything kinky) about Abby/Nora or Abby/Ellie or other ships I ship because I have the feels.

[thewritewolf]

In Due Time Chapter 12: Kwami Swap

Marinette makes her third heroic appearance. And you know what they say - third time's the charm.

@marichatmay

Enjoy!

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Read on Ao3

“Any final words, Chat Noir?” The akuma growled, its long, spindly limbs surprisingly strong as they pinned Chat Noir’s arms to his sides. All he could do was kick his legs, suspended twenty meters above the streets of Paris.

“Hm… Nothing is coming to mind right now,” Chat Noir replied. “Can you give me some time to think of some really good ones? Maybe a few minutes? Hours? Days? In fact, let’s just call a timeout for this battle.”

“No. I think not,” the akuma said in a voice that echoed strangely. “Let’s see who is under that mask…”

Panic gripped Chat as he felt his ring being pulled off, nearly powerless to stop it. He could feel the magic unraveling around him and he did the only thing he could think to do.

“Spots on!”

Just as his transformation as Chat Noir ended, the red swirl of magic hid his secret identity. While that was definitely a good thing, it came with another problem entirely - now he couldn’t hope the akuma would overlook his earrings. And if he couldn’t beat the akuma as Chat Noir, he certainly couldn’t with a miraculous he didn’t have eight years of practice with.

A miraculous which Mister Bug realized the akuma was still holding onto. Hoping Plagg would forgive him, he reached for his yoyo and struck it out of the akuma’s hands. He couldn’t track where the ring fell as he broke free of the akuma’s grip, and just hoped that it didn’t end up in the wrong hands before he could go looking for it.

With renewed determination, Mister Bug twirled the yoyo into a shield and fell into a combat stance. The odds weren’t in his favor, but he’d never let that bother him before and he wasn’t about to start now.

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

As the battle raged on overhead, Marinette breathed a sigh of relief. It had been an eventful few seconds. The bone chilling fear of seeing Chat Noir nearly unmasked, followed by the revelation that he was secretly Mister Bug, all the while knowing that Chat was fighting a losing battle… Marinette had more reasons than the obvious to be upset at being stuck on the frontlines of yet another akuma battle.

Her thoughts came to a sudden halt when she heard the sound of something metallic hitting the ground. She looked down just in time to see a familiar ring roll into her shoes. Her jaw dropped and she was stuck staring at it for a moment before quickly snatching it up. Immediately, the little cat creature she had met a couple days ago had appeared in front of her.

“Plagg?”

“Pigtails! Thank cheese you’re here.” He pointed a paw at the battle raging above. “Look, you’ve got to transform and help my kid out. He can’t do this on his own.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Marinette said, fear quickly being pushed aside in the face of a wall of steely focus. “Plagg, claws out!”

Mere seconds later, Ladynoire rose to the skies on her baton for the second time. She batted aside a spindly limb meant for Mister Bug. The two of them landed on a rooftop as the akuma stepped back to get a grip on the situation.

“Mister Bug!” She said, pretending to just now notice him. “I’ve heard so much about you. Finally decided to actually fight the akumas now?”

“Well I figured I might as well pick up the slack if that Chat Noir was going to run off,” he shot back with a grin. “Ready to take this bastard down?”

A grin spread across her face as well, a reckless bravery falling over her as she stood beside the experienced hero.

“Always.”

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

“Pound it?” Ladynoire held out her fist to Mister Bug after he purified the akuma.

He looked down at her first in confusion before smiling and returning the fist bump. “Pound it.”

“So… now what?”

Mister Bug glanced around, which made her notice the people starting to cautiously return to the area. No doubt the reporters would be flocking to this spot in droves once they realized that two elusive heroes were on the scene.

“Follow me.”

A few minutes later and Ladynoire found herself in a darkened office building. Maybe they were closed for the day, or maybe they had gotten out of there due to the rampaging akuma nearby. Either way, the building was completely empty except for the two of them.

“Okay, you stay on this side and I’ll go over here,” Mister Bug said, darting behind a cubicle wall. Ladynoire blinked at the wall before letting herself slide her back down it until she was sitting. On the other side, she felt Mister Bug do the same. “Spots off.”

“Claws in.” Her transformation dropped and she gave a smile to the kwami. “Great work, Plagg. You were great out there.”

Plagg grinned, showing off his tiny fangs. “You weren’t half bad yourself, Pigtails.”

The kwami vanished as she took off the ring and sat it at the edge of the wall, in reach of the man who was Chat Noir. And, just as she figured, he quickly snatched the miraculous back up. With her end of the deal finished, she put her hands on the floor to help stand herself up. There was no use in sitting around now.

To her surprise, Chat Noir snagged her wrist. “Hang on a minute. Please?”

She nodded before remembering he couldn’t see her. “Alright.”

A whispered conversation began on the other side of the wall. Even as close as she was, she couldn’t make out much beyond the fact that there were three voices. It didn’t last very long either.

“So,” Chat Noir began. His voice had a strange quality to it now, as though it was wavering with emotion. “Tikki likes cookies, especially ones that you’ve made personally. I’m not that good a baker but she loves the ones that I’ve done so don’t worry. Even if you’ve never made a cookie in your life, she’ll probably eat them all up anyway. But no matter what she says, don’t feed her after midnight. It makes her hyper and she’ll keep you up all night.”

“Tikki? What are you talking about?”

“It’s harder to get used to at first than the black cat miraculous,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “There is definitely more of a learning curve with it. But you’re a lot more clever than me, so I think you’ll take to it better. Talking with Tikki and just practicing will teach you everything you need to know.”

“Wait wait wait,” Marinette said, rubbing her temples. “Are you saying… you’re giving me a miraculous?”

“Not just any miraculous, little witch.”

She looked to her right and saw his hand. When he pulled back, she saw a pair of earrings. Her eyes widened. While it wasn’t exactly common knowledge, her many years proofreading for the Cat Chat let her recognize them on sight.

“Are those… Red Beetle’s miraculous?”

“Yes, but no. It is the miraculous that gave Red Beetle his powers, but they existed long before him, and will exist long after. Its proper name is the ladybug miraculous.”

She hesitantly reached out a hand, thinking that at any moment he’d change his mind and take them back. But he never did and she looked down at the exquisite earrings. As she put them on, Chat Noir continued.

“You remember the drill from last time - will you accept this miraculous and with it, defend Paris from evil?”

“Yes! Of course!”

“Good,” he said, and she could almost hear the relief in his voice. “Oh, and here, you can have these.” He dropped a bag of chocolate chip cookies at the edge of the wall. “She prefers macarons, but…” Chat chuckled. “That’s a little outside my skill range. I hope you have better luck.”

“Well, I am the daughter of bakers.”

“No kidding? It’ll be a match made in heaven then. Claws out!” He poked his head around the corner, a familiar Chat grin on his face. “Well, see you around… partner.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Marinette sat there, thinking it over for a couple minutes.

Partner.

She smiled. She could get used to that.

Now all she needed was a name…