#i mean really. cursed knife with a slow acting curse??? he was giving them time to catch him ON PURPOSE

[popper51]

one thing i still cant quite wrap my head around in terms of the time loop is. how the hell did the beast manage to kill jane in 40 but not any of the previous loops. like the one Big Change in 40 is julia not being in breakbills right. so how does that result in mike, some random alumni, getting possessed by the beast, seducing eliot in order to. idk get close to quentin???? and then he just happens to also kill jane as a bonus after getting caught. idk i just want to see like a full step by step butterfly effect chain of events that connects julia being a hedge witch this time to jane beefing it

[sturnlsstuff]

MASK OFF | ghostface!matt x fem!reader

— warnings: smut with plot, dom!matt, sub!reader, knife kink, unprotected p in v, rough sex, kinda mean!matt, edging, cursing, crying, dirty talk, pet names, mention of murder, - english isn't my first language!!

part one | part two

~~~~~~

"n-no!" you cry out with a pout, when for the fourth time matt stops the movements of his fingers, pulling them out. your orgasm just out of reach again. he was not giving you the relief you so desperately needed, practically edging you, making you squirm under him, while he was watching you with a smirk. you knew you were screwed for tonight, but you wouldn't think he could be so cruel. "please!" you whine, giving him the best puppy eyes you got, but matt only let's out a sarcastic laugh, "now y're fuckin' beggin', huh? interesting"

"i didn't do anything, i swear!" you mewl, tears running down your cheeks from the frustration. matt kneels on the mattress between your legs, grabbing the knife that was laying beside you and holding your wet folds spread with his two fingers. he puts the handle of the knife inside your dripping hole, starting pulling it in and out with unholy speed, while you were gripping the sheets, moaning loudly, your walls clenching around the thing. "i told you to keep your pretty mouth shut, didn't i?" he watches how your pussy sucks in the handle of the knife, while the sharp part was slightly digging into his hand with each movement, but he didn't care right now. not when he was able to see you like this. "your folks are downstairs, remember?"

he just smirks when you put your hand over your mouth, legs trembling when you're closer to the edge again, but he slows down, making it all go away, "fuck!" you squeeze your eyes causing new tears to fall down. you could feel his painfully hard cock straining against your inner thigh. "i'm telling the truth, i didn't say anything! please just let me—"

you cut yourself off with a muffled scream, when he quickly throws the knife onto the mattress and instead slams into you, making sure you feel his dick deep. matt doesn't give you any time to adjust, pulling almost all the way out, before going back in and starting thrusting into you.

it wasn't a secret that matt was pissed off. really mad. since the meeting in the park, he called you three times already and all three times you picked up and let him inside your room, when your parents were gone. he would do his job and leave as always. you were starting to get sick of it, finding yourself being more amused by him with each day and less scared, what was stupid for matt whenever he thought about this. you also caught yourself often fantasizing about him without the mask, even had a wet dream about it earlier this day. you had no courage to ask him to take it off or even if he'd agree to it. though matt wasn't stupid and he noticed the little details, how you would slightly put your hand on his mask, but you wouldn't dare to take if off without his permission, which made him feel somehow proud that you listen to him.

so you spent the whole day trying to distract yourself from thinking about that dream and him in general. at some point your phone rang, you picked up immediately after seeing who's number it was and that's how it all.. started.

"hello?"

"you think you're so slick?" by his voice you could quickly say he was mad. he was actually completely pissed off, feeling betrayed. matt really liked you, craved you and would never want to hurt you even if sometimes... sometimes he wasn't really capable to control himself. "what?" your eyebrows frowned with confusion, while he continued, "y'wanna make me lose my shit? wanna be next?"

"what are you talkin' about?" you asked confused, hearing his low chuckle that makes goosebumps appear on your skin, "you really gonna act all stupid now?" there was a moment of silence as you thought what possibly you could've done, but your head was empty. meanwhile matt was frustrated, grabbing the bridge of his nose and trying to calm himself down, "-- make sure your window's open, i'll be there in 10."

"but my parents—" you started, but he was quick to cut you off, "i don't give a fuck." the call ended, leaving you feeling uneasy and confused, but either way you left your window open and locked your door, just in case if one of your parents would want to come in.

matt was in fact watching your every move, no matter what time of the day it was, he knew what you were doing. he'd watch you hanging out in the cafe with your friends, seeing you and your mom shopping, eating dinner in some fancy restaurant or studying in the library. so he really did know everything and sometimes he didn't necessarily like the things he saw. like yesterday he saw you talking to a cop. he wouldn't think much of it, even if it gave him anxiety, but then this morning a police car drove through his neighborhood, even though this had never happened before. so his assumption was that you just betrayed him. maybe you wanted to set a trap for him? he thought about it for half a day, trying to calm down, but in vain, the anxiety and a sense of betrayal mixed together, creating an explosive mix of emotions. so he was really fucking pissed off and his goal for tonight was to make sure you know how mad he actually was.

the wet, squelching sound coming from you was filling the room and making you heat with embarrassment, while he continues pounding into you really fast. matt grins feeling you squeezing him so tight, it was almost painful, "why'd you do that, huh? got bored of my dick? wanted to make me fuckin' angry?" he rasps, holding your hips when you can't stay still, desperately shaking your head but not being able to say anything, only moans and soft sobs leaving your lips at how good he was making you feel. "i- oh! i'm..." that's when he pulls out just as you were almost coming, causing more tears stream down your face. he flips you over, your face pressed into the pillow. while still holding your hips, he lifts them up and enters you again, immediately going with the same pace as before.

"you're too loud", he bites on his lip, holding back a groan when he feels you clenching around him. despite his anger, he loves watching you struggle while he continues thrusting into you, his cock hitting your g-spot with every move. matt's pride gets the better of him when he sees you like this, knowing that he's the one making you feel so good. there's no mercy from him tonight when he continues bottoming out inside of you on that fast pace. broken cries leaving you have him weak, getting him closer to the edge, "'m tryin' to understand... but i really can't-- fuckkkk, yeah, keep squeezin' me like that..."

the way he fucks you this time reminds you of the first time. you could literally feel the passion and fascination in every of his thrust, but there was also so much anger which made you shiver. you were trying to hold onto literally anything, gripping your sheets, pillows, even the headboard that was hitting your wall with each movement. you'll definitely have some explanation to do for your parents later.

matt watches how your ass bounce, while his cock continue slamming into you and that sight makes his hips stutter, a low moan leaving him when he fills you up with his cum. he slows down only for a second to ride out his high, making you whine in response, before pulling out and flipping you over again, just to see your hair sticking to your forehead and tears on your flushed cheeks. he looks at your hole leaking cum with fascination, his ego immediately boosted.

towering over you, propping himself on his hands on each side of your head, matt looks at you intensely, which makes you literally feel his gaze on you, so you open your eyes. his mask inches away from your face, making your breath hitch in your throat. you really wanted to see his face, know what he looks like and not only know his body from the waist down. you wanted to see all of him and he was able to notice that in your eyes.

he grabs you by the jaw, squeezing your cheeks, "why'd you talk to that cop, huh?" the tone of his voice was low and rough, but dripping with passion. seeing you like this turned him on even more, while you still felt the desire to be satisfied, his release and your own arousal dripping down your inner thighs. "'n' don't gimme that bullshit again, 'bout not doin' anythin', cause i saw you, sweetheart."

"i swear..." you repeat again, shaking your head while he keeps his grip on your cheeks, making your words a bit muffled. "-- he started asking me questions, 'cause he found out about me and that guy you... you know..."

"killed?" matt tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes and trying to process your words. you nod weakly, while new tears runned down your face, he felt it against his skin. "i told him i don't know anything, that i only met with this guy once and nothing happened between us, that i didn't really know him..."

"and he believed you?" his tone was dripping with irony, making your heart skip a beat. "i forced myself to cry and everything, i pretended to be all sad about it and he left me alone, i promise he..."

"pretended to be sad, huh?" matt is quick to cut you off, focusing too much on one thing you said.

it wasn't a secret that you were a little bit insane, matt was aware of it since you'd let him into your room that one night. you also weren't really scared of him. well, maybe a little bit when he was mad, like for example now, but it was making you more horny than afraid, which only confirmed that you were almost as crazy as he was.

you didn't even liked that guy really, he was just a distraction from the fact you liked the hookups with the ghostface a little too much. you weren't able to get to know him, since matt was quick to move him out of the way. though you found yourself being careless to his death, since finding on his phone that he only wanted to use you anyway, just like matt said.

"yeah, i... uh, i mean, if i cared about him and his death, i wouldn't meet with you again—"

"and why was there a police car drivin' around my neighborhood, hm?" matt wanted to believe you, knowing that if you won't convince him of your innocence, then... well, things may go in a direction he doesn't want them to go. "it... it has to be a coincidence..." you swallow nervously, trying not to look away. it was the truth, you really didn't say anything, not really figuring out why. you could set him off fast, matt knew it too, but he just craved you so much, he couldn't bring himself to leave you alone.

"is it now?" he whispers into your ear, moving his tip along your dripping folds, before teasing you with stopping at you entrance, knowing how desperate and unsatisfied you still were. you whine in response, "do you think i'd just let you into my room, if it wasn't a... oh, shit—"

with one sudden movement he entered you again, starting moving with the same hard pace as before, which made you moan out loud. "c'mon, sweetheart, keep... keep talkin'... tell me more, make me believe you, yeah? fuckk, 'cause i wanna... i wanna believe you—" a low groan escapes his lips when you wrap your legs around his hips, making him go even deeper.

"i... didn't care about that guy anyway—" the sounds of you two rasping, the choked moans leaving you and skin slipping against each other filling the room, the wet sound coming from you now louder. "i lied for you, i could tell them everything about us, b-but i... oh!" matt speeds up, making your stomach drop over and over again, but you continue, "-- i... i lied for you even if i don't really know you either, i didn't even see your face..."

a hoarse, low laugh escapes matt, "oh, really now? you tryin' to make me feel bad f'you or somethin'?"

"what?! n-no! i just..."

"i don't think you understand what it means if i take that mask off." his thrusts started being more urgent and hard, immediately making you clench around him and finally getting the release you so desperately needed. matt curses under his breath, feeling how your sticky walls suck him in while you cry out of pleasure, desperately gripping the sheets to hold onto something. "shiiittt... here you go... making this pretty little mess on my cock..."

he doesn't change his pace at all causing you to whine and making it impossible for you to stay still. matt shifts, putting your legs over his shoulders, gripping your thighs tightly, this new angle allowing him to hit your g-spot more intensely. the overstimulation hurts so good, you can't keep your eyes open.

"y'really wanna see my face, huh?" he grunts softly at the feeling of you squeezing him so hard, "but that... changes everything for you... mmhm, oh fuck—"

this whole time matt was sure that he would never show you his identity, knowing that it would complicate things and if something went wrong between you two then... he would have to deal with it in his own crazy way, doing things that he wouldn't want to do to you. but there was something more inside him, a bit of insecurity about what you would say, whether you would actually like him or if you would just immediately kick him out the door and never speak to him again. and this mask hid his shyness, without it he felt so... exposed. yet a part of him wanted to see your reaction, wanted to know what will you do.

"are you sure?" he asks while still pounding into you, but you're so lost in pleasure, you don't even know what he's asking about. "'cause y'know, sweetheart... you won't be able to get rid of me completely, once i do this..."

hearing your quiet, weak "please", matt slows down just slightly and before he could overthink his decision, he grabs the bottom edge of the mask and pulls it off in one swift movement. and that's when you see him.

the moment your eyes meet, he freezes and stops moving inside of you, his fingers pressing into your thigh a little more like he was still trying to maintain control, even if his heart was pounding in his chest. you look at him with wide, aroused eyes, feeling your breath was taken away. he was so... handsome. beautiful. it seemed like you could say he was an angel and it wouldn't be the least bit dramatic.

you didn't know what to focus on, you were so overwhelmed by his beauty. his facial features, that sharp, defined jaw, the prominent cheekbones... but his very blue eyes were doing the main job here, his gaze was so intense, it made you feel small. and those pink lips that just looked so kissable.

now when he was finally without the ghostface mask, you were able to notice more details, like for example the silver chain on his neck, the earrings or how his messy brown hair looked so fluffy, making you want to run your hand through it.

and also the fact that you've already seen him before. now you remembered where you know his voice from. "matt?" you finally speak up quietly, almost hesitatingly, but he hears you and it's enough to make his breath hitch in his throat.

"you..." his voice cracks slightly, a small frown appearing between his eyebrows. clearing his throat, he continues, "you, uh.. remember?"

if you remember? how could you not? that one party a few weeks ago where a guy approached you halfway through. you remember that he was so... almost shy? you were talking like crazy while he was mostly just staring, but he introduced himself. matt. you remembered him because he had such nice tattoos, you couldn't stop staring at his arm.

"yeah, i.... of course i remember."

for him it was like a punch in the gut. he would never think that you remembered him from that party. he was hypnotized by you, just staring at you while you talked, which made him believe he made himself look like a fool in your eyes. this whole interaction was also short, because he quickly realized about his not so little problem he had in his pants, just from staring at you and listening to your voice. so he quickly left you alone, having been obsessed with you ever since.

so matt was just convinced that you thought of him as some weirdo, that you forgot about him as soon as he disappeared from your sight at that party. he was sure that when you'd see his face you would freak out, but you... you looked intrigued. he noticed something in your eyes that he couldn't necessarily name. maybe he just imagined it.

licking his lips, he puts your legs back on the mattress and pulls his black hoodie over his head, allowing you to see his tattoos. it really was him. "i didn't have the chance to tell you this then, but, uh..." you swallow a bit nervously, gently touching his arm, tracing the lines of his tattoos with your finger, unconsciously causing matt to lose his mind. "-- i really think they suit you."

that was it for matt.

letting out a low groan, he starts moving again, but this time slower, though still making sure you feel his dick deep. he now towers over you and after a moment of just eye contact, you feel his lips on yours, which stole a quiet, surprised whimper from you.

and for some reason he stayed over night this time. you were sure you wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow, being too sore, but you didn't care, not being able to get enough of him. you wanted to learn his body by heart. somehow it felt right even if it shouldn't.

a/n: hope you guys like it!! this is kinda basically the "last" part, there won't be any other long part like this but i still wanna continue this au!! so if you have any requests or idk questions about ghostface!matt just write them in my inbox, i'd loooveee to continue with this story if y'all want me to. but i'd mostly make it short, maybe as oneshots or something like that. xoxo.

@certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420

[vitzi9]

Hi, can you write about yandere ethan who thinks he is in a relationship with the reader, and he is very affectionate with her, and always calls her by "honey, baby, love", the reader allows it because they are childhood friends and she knows that his family ignore and neglect him, so she always tries to give him affection, but eventually it becomes unbearable when she wants to meet more people and ethan doesn't let her because he is extremely jealous and possessive with her.

Love me baby

Yan!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Masterlist if you want to read my others things.

TW/CW: love bombing (I think?), manipulation, lies, reader curses a lot(she's just going crazy guys), mention of sex

Don't know what to think of this. I came back for Halloween month isn't that crazy (it's not). I probably lost like 70% of you guys but yeah I'm alive. Still writing things that end up WAY too long. And I'm sorry but I'm working on all of your asks I'm just really slow but each of you are genius, so far I had crazy stories ideas.

Idk if that's what you wanted with your prompt but that's what I thought so I still hope you like it.

07/10/2024 (7254 words)

The door of your room creaks slowly, the dark atmosphere creating such a heavy tension in the air you could cut it with a knife. You hold your breath, keeping your eyes closed, praying. Footsteps are resonating on the wood flooring when they come to a sudden stop at the opposite of the bed. Slowly, the blanket is raised and a weight is pressed down on the mattress.

The warm of his body is both comforting and infuriating.

"I love to sleep with you." Whisper Ethan a smile in the voice.

You did not answer because you were pretending to be asleep. There was no way you were going to help him nourish his delusion.

You never understood why Ethan never changed with time. Because, well, most of the time, when a girl and a boy are childhood friends, there's this awkward transition thanks to puberty. It's the moment you realize that he's a man, and you're not. And he realizes it as well.

And normally from then, you have trouble sleeping in the same bed, being stuck together all day, eating each other's food. As people are always looking your way, asking since when are you two together and telling you how cute you are and shit.

But Ethan, it seems, never realized that growing up meant putting boundaries between you.

"You're warm." he says, lodging his face in the crook of your neck. Embracing your body with one arm on your waist and pulling your back against his torso. You're still pretending to be sound asleep.

You thought about asking him. Asking him if he didn't have difficulties to find a partner, since people always assume you are a couple. But you never asked. Because Ethan tells you everything, and you mean everything. So if he had trouble looking for love, you would have known first day.

But you're not even sure Ethan knows what love is to begin with.

His family, well, his family... His family had a favorite child, and it wasn't him. Richie, may he rest in peace, was the perfect golden child. Ethan always has been put aside along with his sister. His father never really tried to know his other kids.

But then Richie died. You're not sure how exactly because it's a taboo subject for him and his family, and you understand them. But from what you've heard, it was a sort of accident. A few friends of him didn't like his passion for Halloween so they tricked him, or something. You ignore all the details.

That's all you know, though. Richie and you weren't even close. He liked drama, for sure. But your friend was Ethan, not his brother. Plus, Ethan was giving you the stinky eye and acting jealous if you even tried to look at Richie. At the time, you found it normal. Richie was the favorite, Ethan didn't get attention as any of it went to his brother. You were his friend, his only friend, who wanted to talk to him and not his brother. Of course he would act jealous if he stole a little bit of you; you were the only support he had in life.

All of this to say, Ethan never received any real love. His sister loved him, you think. They were both neglected. But she loved her father more. And Ethan was conflicted as well. He admired and hated his father. So yeah, love in this family was complicated.

But now, as you're both grown up, sleeping in your bed together, you think you should've say something sooner.

"You're asleep baby ?" he whispers, chuckling in your ear.

Baby.

You don't remember when he first started calling you that. It was so... Smooth. You think he was joking at first, just like you. Calling you pet names just to annoy you. You were doing the same. But he started to slip these baby, love a little bit everywhere. So much that you become accustomed to it ! And you stopped paying attention. To you, his pet names just became another way to say bro, man, girl. There wasn't anything weird behind it. But you were naive.

"You really are sleeping ?"

Ethan is still a complicated man to understand. He seems to have such intense feelings inside him. He's supposed to tell you everything but you're not sure he really does. Like Richie's death.

He often cries the death of his brother, doing violent nightmares as well. Ethan never told you the real reason of his death. But it doesn't change anything, Ethan always ended up calling you in the middle of the night breaking down and asking for your support.

So it's no surprise that you ended up being his roommate.

Because you know him better than anyone else.

"Already ?" he whispers, skeptical.

And he knows you better than anyone else.

"Or are you ignoring me, hm ?"

Privacy with him was non existent. When you moved in, you were so excited to live a new life with your best friend. You even go to the same school ! You thought, naively, that it'd be so much fun ! Discovering your adult life with him and all.

Oh how you hate yourself, today.

Doors ? Always open. Clothes ? You're sharing them. Bed ? You bought two for nothing. He's constantly in yours. Fuck, where are you ? In jail ? You don't need to share everything !

But these days, Ethan acts different. Like, really different. He made friends. Alone. By himself. Friends that are not you. Which is new and a fricking good new. Because that means he'll finally start to live his own life without trying to glue you in it.

"Are you mad at me ?" the tip of his fingers draw invisible pattern on your arm. "I'm sorry."

His sister even is in this group. But she doesn't want you to join. Well, you think she doesn't, at least. Each time you smile at her, she sends you a death glare. Even Ethan choose not to introduce you to them. You're not even sure their new friends know they are related. The Kirsch family liked to stay private about their life. Or Landry, like Ethan wants you to call him now. Whatever makes him happy.

His friends are nice, though. You talked to them something like three times in the year but they're nice people. Their names are not quite in your head yet, but you do remember a few of them.

And Tara's really cute ! You thought that Ethan and her had a thing going on but when you asked him, he got all offended and denied everything in one block. So you don't know.

Well, you're lying. You do know, unfortunately. Ethan's in love with you. It's as obvious as the sun in the sky. You can't even be surprised, you saw it coming. He never talk to girls, you're probably the only one he ever talked to, or even looked in the eyes for that matter.

Since your childhood you've been here for him, supporting him when his family didn't. Loving him when he needed it the most. Of course, at the end, he would fall in love with you. But it wasn't the goal, you swear it wasn't your intention. Ethan is your friend.

Even if he's starting to get really clingy. A little too much. And even if he's trying to establish a routine too domestic for you.

"I don't have a thing for Tara, you know.

There he goes again. He's trying to reassure you. But damn, you don't need any reassurance. You're good. He's acting like you're the one getting jealous over nothing.

That's why he got offended when you asked him about her. Ethan is scared you'll think he's 'cheating' on you. Or do you think. Ethan never elaborated on what your relationship had become. Probably because he was afraid of your reaction, of your rejection.

-It's quite the opposite.

You retain yourself from asking him what he means by that, utterly confused. The opposite ? He doesn't like her, then ? But why is he hanging out with her so much ? Ethan is usually not the hypocrite type. Yes he's shy with people he doesn't know and is scared to give his opinion but when he doesn't like someone, he simply stops seeing them.

And once again, Tara's really nice. What did she do to make Ethan don't like her ?

-But you'll understand.

You stopped trying to understand him, a long time ago already. He just changed so much in the course of a few days. It's like he has too much on his mind. Sometimes, he just disappear from your apartment and come back hours later with a big smile on the face, all disheveled.

Of course, you thought he was seeing someone. Hell, his bag is always so bloated ! It's like he has spare clothes in it ! But it still wasn't the case. What the hell was going on with him ?

-So please, don't be mad at me.

-I'm tired, Ethan. You whisper, lips pursued thanks to your cheek planted on your pillow. He already knew you were awake anyway. Your sentence is enough to tell him you want to sleep and end this conversation.

-Of course, sorry baby."

And that was it. You knew he was smiling behind you but you didn't care. He left you alone, that's what matter. You were already trying to push him away for a long time but now you feel like time is missing. You need to make him understand that you do not like him and quick. It'll break his heart, but you're tired of pretending everything's alright, exhausted from constantly being the one to compromise.

You don't want to sound like a jerk but damn, Ethan is suffocating you. He's ruining both of your lives. The last time you had a partner have to be something like years ago ! You literally have to hide from him when you leave to see someone.

"Goodnight." He adds, ten minutes later. Probably scared that you forget about him so quickly.

How could you possibly change things ? Ethan is susceptible. It doesn't matter what your words or intentions are, he only hear what he wants to.

"Love you." he whispers so lowly you thought you imagined it.

You do not even try to answer.

The next day, in class, Ethan kept pestering you about the new movie he absolutely had to show you. Something along the line of a serial killer in a mine chasing people with a pickaxe, being in love with his ex-girlfriend and sabotaging her couple. Tonight would probably be centered around that film, just like every time you two have any free time. If that idea would have appealed you years prior, you today feel as if this is too much. Yesterday night laid a weird weight on your shoulders, a sort of unease that you can't quite shake off.

"Aren't you tired of always watching movies ? You grumble, annoyed, in hope of giving him the ick.

-No, he smiles, but we can do something else. No big deal. What did you have in mind ?"

You sigh, not even giving him enough attention to answer him. He'll probably still put the movie tonight, whether you like it or not. For sure to avoid another argument between you both. As you're constantly fighting, talking about a movie is the only way Ethan found to prevent an umpteenth dispute. Quite smart actually, if you forget the fact that you now know his strategy.

The hubbub slowly surrounding you alerts you of your soon to be lateness in class. With a nod in his direction, you start turning away from Ethan only for him to hastily grab your hand. Sighing, you raise a brow at him.

"We're walking home together, don't forget.

-Ethan we've been walking home together for years now. Clearly I won't forget." He smiles. His hands grab both of your cheeks and as his face approaches yours, panic settles thinking he would kiss you on the lips but he instead lay a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"See you later." Ethan's too happy voice says. You frown, holding his wrists to take them away from you in what could be similar to disgust. "Yeah, later." You say before finally leaving him for the next few classes, wiping his kiss on the way.

You won't see him for the afternoon as you both already ate together at home, and started class at 2PM (14h), to end the day at 8PM (20h).

These lonesome classes are both a benediction and a curse as you try as best as you can to befriend people but they always seem wary. It's probably too late for you to make friend now, the whole year is almost done. People already made friends earlier in the year and don't need any new ally.

And at the same time, Ethan is not here to harass you. That's why you still cherish this morning. Until you don't; your next class is with him and if you remember correctly the teacher talked about a group project last time. Great. Way to ruin a day.

But when you sit down, no one is there to bother you. Ethan is absent, probably late. A rare occurrence but a lovely one nonetheless.

Ten minutes later and he finally show up along with all of his new friends. Immediately, you lay down on the desk to avoid his gaze. But to your stupor, Ethan does not sit next to you and you hear the whispers of his group, conscious of having interrupted the lesson. Ethan ignored you.

Honestly, you can't pinpoint the main emotion this procured you. Relief at first but also confusion, fear of the harassment and countless excuses that'll come next. Happiness but wariness. The fact he's not next to you doesn't mean he's not watching and that's somehow ten times worse. You can't see him: you have no idea what he's doing.

Anyway, he's finally starting to replace you. Still, isn't that a bit toxic how your days are filled with fear to spend a mere minute in his presence while he acknowledges you only when wants to ? Well, everything about him is toxic. At this point, it doesn't change anything really.

You risk one look behind you to observe his usual shenanigans but he's busy, not even glancing your way. Now that you look at him, he doesn't seem really happy to talk to them, nor does Quinn. What is going on with them ? Ethan just look empty. He's staring into nothing, not even blinking. Just deep in thoughts. Though, as soon as Chad or one of the group talks to him, he gains back his merry behaviour. Weird. But hey, it's none of your business !

And that's the same spirit you sport when leaving for class, alone and not waiting for Ethan. It's good that the teacher reported the group project to tomorrow, you got to enjoy your day. You still hear him and his friends laugh in the background, but he's talking this time. Maybe he just wasn't in a good mood earlier and actually likes his friends, who know ?

And after all, if it's like that, you can go home alone. Not that you complain. You'll just say you didn't want to disturb him with his friends. After all, he's the one who doesn't want you to know them. You won't force him !

And hopefully, you'll finally enjoy some time to yourself. At peace, at home.

You push the heavy door of the building, leaving the place for the day. It's cold outside, too much for you own liking but you're alone and it's priceless. You can look at people in the street and you only realize how bad your situation really is. You do not even allow partners to treat you like this, but somehow you allow Ethan to? It's time to wake up. You can't live like this anymore. Ethan trapped you in a toxic relationship for fuck sake. If you can't change him, you'll change yourself. But he can't find out.

But when you thought you were finally free, rushed footsteps hitting the ground can be heard in your back. Goosebumps raises your body hair as you fear already knowing who's coming.

"You promised!" He shouts and your steps stop abruptly, turning to look at him. You allow him to run the distance left between you before he stops in front of you. "And you left without me. He is out of breath, having ran all the way here.

-You were busy.

-I'm never busy when you're here. Ethan tells you with a playful grin, almost flirting with you, passing his fingers in his curls to tame them. You can come fetch me if you're scared I forget about you.

He's joking, you think, he's just friendly and joking. Nothing's weird and — shit, who are you lying to ? Of course he's not but what the hell can you do ?

-How was you day ? He asks, changing subject. He saw your unease, like always, and try to take your attention on something else. Math sucked today, we worked on... but he suddenly interrupts himself, eyes going wide. I forgot to give my essay to the English teacher.

You already gave yours this morning. But it's weird that Ethan did not. He's usually the perfect little student. Always giving his homework the next day he was asked to do it. There really is something weird, he's a little bit too much in his own head. And it's starting to show.

-I still have my draft, you can just copy mine and give it tomorrow, it's no big deal. You shrug, looking at both sides of the road before crossing. You're always the first to hand homework, I'm sure he won't mind if you give it a little bit later.

"Really ? He smiles brightly when you nod. "Thank you! You know, I have no idea what I'd do without you baby.

Your body tenses. You feel like the discussion is going in a direction you don't want it to go. It's obvious he's not only talking about the homework you let him copy.

-It's nothing, you start, but it's already too late.

-You know, I don't think you realize all the things you've done for me. Not just the homework, like, in all our life.

You hate how he said 'our life', like you share one.

-For real Ethan, you add but much more coldly than before, it's nothing. Are you done ? Can we let it go, now ?"

Yes, being mean maybe wasn't the best solution. But you ran out of ideas. And Ethan never look like he's hurt by your harsh tone. It's like he doesn't even listen to you most of the time you're starting to get angry at him. He just nods and smiles like an idiot.

The rest of the way home, Ethan ranted about everything and anything he did at school and asked you questions which you did not bother to answer to, to what he filled the answers himself.

On the last steps to your apartment, you realize you have to act today for your future.

Ethan opens the door and allows you to enter before him. Turning the light on, you're pleased to see your sweet comfort.

"Happy to be home, you grunt, letting your bag fall on the ground.

-Happy I caught up to you.

Is he being passive aggressive ? What are you even supposed to say to that ? You give him a tight lip smile and walk to the kitchen, getting you a cup of water.

-What we doing now ? He asks, leaning on the counter.

Well, you for sure don't know about 'we' but you are going to sleep. You need to set up boundaries, or at least introduce them to him.

-It's getting late. I think I'll go to sleep.

-Already ? Okay, well, I'm coming in a few seconds.

-About that... Ethan stops in his track. You tub your temples. Here you go again. You're sleeping in your room tonight, you state. Not open for any negotiation.

Ethan stares at you as if you had grow another head.

-You don't want to sleep with me ?

-I had a really tiring day, I just want to sleep alone for tonight. But if you have another nightmare come knock, I'll see what I can do.

Naively, you thought that making him pity you would work, that he'd understand, tell you goodnight and everything would be done for the day. But it's Ethan. And you haven't been separated from Ethan since you guys were kids.

The boy stares at you with doe eyes, trying to coax you into giving him what he wants, before frowning, articulating words that won't come out.

He's trying to gently manipulate you, again. And you repeat yourself that it's not his fault, he's a victim of his shitty family. He doesn't have any social awareness, he's not doing it on purpose. Well, you think he's doing it on purpose but without really acknowledging it. As you told him multiple times his behaviour could be obsessive and he's aware of it. But it's as if he can't help it.

You're confused. But at the same time, you don't really know much about the interactions he had with his father along his childhood. Maybe he's copying this mechanism because he saw his progenitor doing it ? His father could be manipulative after all. Your parents always found him weird but with the death of his first son, he just completely lost it.

-You... You don't want to sleep with me. Mumbles Ethan more to himself.

-Exactly Ethan, I don't want to.

It's like you see the gear turning in his head.

-Why ? he asks which caused a sigh to escape you.

-I wanted to talk to you about it for a while now. It's complicated." You sit on the back of the cushion and scratch at you arm to help you think. "I like you a lot Ethan, you know right ?

His lips turns up to display a bright smile, his face seem to shine at your words and he nods multiple times. You think you see his eyes stare at your lips.

-I love you too. I hope you know that.

Now, 'love' wasn't actually the word you used but you're going to have to ignore that.

-The thing is, Ethan, that we do not have to be stuck together every minutes of the day, you hear me ? Sometimes I want to sleep alone. And I'm sure you want to be alone too, right ? Ethan frowns and laugh nervously.

-I actually don't, I... Why would I want to be alone ? I sleep really well with you. Don't you ? Why do you suddenly hate being with me ?

-Wow okay I did not say that. You are interpreting my words in a way I don't like. I don't hate to be with you I just...

-What do you need to do that requires me to be out of your bedroom ?

Lot of things. But there is some you can't say out loud.

-What ? Tell me then ? What are you-. Ethan says, cheeks turning red. Oh, yeah, you can sleep alone for tonight I guess, he clears his throat. He avoids eye contact, trying to act tough.

Is he thinking about what you think ?

-Ethan, I won't do any weird stuff tonight. I just want to be alone. I like to sleep in a star like position or just being able to move in my sleep you know ? That's all.

-But you can do that with me.

Maybe you should've stick with whatever dirty thought he had. You should have told him you were going to invite someone over or.. Or fucking masturbate if that's what you need to get him out. Because Ethan steps towards you, an empty expression he doesn't give you often on the face.

-You're lying to me. That's not why you want to sleep alone. I really hate you lying to me.

-I am not lying to you Ethan, I'm exhausted.

He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest and getting defensive. How come you ruined everything ? Nothing is ever right with him, he always find a way to change your words or just get offended over anything.

-You'll be talking all night with him, won't you?

That right now is one of the many reasons as to why you never tried to bring the topic of personal space to a man like him.

-Ethan for the love of god, I want to sleep! I won't talk to anyone, damn.

You don't even know who is that 'him' ! It's not like you have the opportunity to talk to a lot of people, Ethan always ruin everything. And in any case he doesn't, everyone just assume that you two are together already.

-You're lying. You'll chat with him. Give me your phone. I... I can't let you do that. I'll be all alone and you'll laugh with him while I'll be with my broken heart.

The light of the living room was starting to hurt your tired eyes, you couldn't retain many yawns from escaping. Turning on your phone, you learn you've been fighting for ten minutes. You needed to sleep but Ethan wasn't on the same page. It was late, too late for bullshit like this.

-Who are you even talking about ?

He suddenly tries to grab your phone by force, pulling it towards him. Our of pure bewilderment you tighten your hold on the device, grasping it so hard the screen might have broke. You slap him in the face with your free hand, utterly in disbelief. Ethan stands still, shock on his face while he let go of your device to touch his cheek.

-What is wrong with you ? You whisper with disgust. It's the first time Ethan acted physical with you. And probably the last time as the numerous searches for accommodations on your phone testify.

-Why can't I see your damn phone?

-And why do you fucking want to see it ?

Silence. He stands still, frowning. Probably considering if he'll either go for manipulation or violence. But his next words are so out of pocket that you need a minute to compose yourself.

-Are you prostituting yourself or what ? With the number of men you see.

Honestly, it simply is sad to see what you two had became. As children, you were attached to the hip, fusional. You could both end each other sentence. Today, it seems only Ethan is able to do that as he knows you more and more when you know him less and less.

-I think we're done for the night Ethan." You walk to your room, using his stillness to take your time before slamming the door shut in his face, locking it for the night. You hear Ethan knocking his palm against the wood separating you both but you chose to ignore it.

-Open the door please, let's talk." He never stops knocking on the door, probably thinking you'd open it at one point, annoyed at him. But not tonight.

You open your drawers and start changing, frowning at the sight of his boxers laying in your clothes. He's still rambling in the background but you pay him no mind, doing your own life on your side.

-What you're doing is really childish. We're both adults and we should act as such. Open the fucking door, please. You smile.

There he goes. The real Ethan. The meanie. The man after the death of his brother: Ethan Landry. A completely different man.

-Are you listening to me ? Open that fucking door, we are not done talking because I know you're not ignoring me after being the one who left me alone on campus.

Of course he would use that against you but you don't even care. Yeah you left him alone, so what ? He's a big man, isn't he ? Surely he's not scared of walking alone.

-See how you are ? All big and proud before me but then when we really need to talk you hide." He mutters something you don't hear, but then you catch his footsteps moving away.

You're confused but decide it's a good thing he gave up and fall on the bed, it's the first time in probably months where you're allowed to lay like a star fish in your own bed. You relish in the newfound comfort you missed how so much. You plunge your face in your pillow and hug it firmly.

At one point, it falls on you that Ethan never give up that quickly and realize that upon hearing no reaction from you, he must've changed plan as his footsteps are back, along with an unknown sound of something falling right in front of your door. To no one surprise, he now starts apologizing.

"I'm stupid, okay ? Forgive me. I'm sorry. Open please. His voice is muffled through the door, and you ignore it. I'm just worried about you. I know you're not seeing anyone.

Great, he's back.

-And I'm sorry for getting angry at you. I was frustrated.

He's not and you know it. When Ethan has something in mind, he'll go to incredible length to accomplish it. Sometimes, you ask yourself if he's acting this way because of you. If you once told him something, did something that could have impacted him.

-I just really like you, I know I can be a lot sometimes but you forgive me, right ? You always do." You think about definitely moving out of here, once and for all, far from him when you fall asleep.

When sunlight woke you up the next day and you decided to head to the kitchen, you were surprised to see Ethan, sleeping tightly on his mattress on the ground at your feet, right before the door. You completely forgot about him. There's no way he really slept on the ground all night. It's not normal, you're worried about him. Maybe you need to take him to a psychiatrist.

You stay stunned a few minutes, seriously worrying over the state of your friend for him to be doing literally anything. You were going to wake him up, but then you remembered how weird he was being with you recently and decided to let him be.

Ignoring him, you step over his body and start to prepare your breakfast. Of course, Ethan quickly woke up upon hearing you rummaging the drawers.

"Hi baby..." He whispers, tired from his sleepless night, eyes still partially closed. "Slept well ?

-Yes actually. The best night of sleep I've had in a long time. There was a bounce in your steps that couldn't be ignored.

-Well I had nightmares." It's hard to discern the truth in all of his lies. Maybe he really had nightmares, maybe he just wants you to feel guilty.

There was a tension in the apartment this morning that even Ethan couldn't hide this time. He stayed silent for the most part of the walk to class. Something in your relationship changed and the unknown scares you. What will happen now ?

Your first lesson is with Ethan, but he leaves your side to go straight to his friends. Chuckling, you know he's still angry at you and is trying to make you mad.

As soon as you sit, the teacher announces the instructions of the group project everyone will have to do in these two hours and then finish at home. Name by name, she lists duets and the class start to move around, going to their partner. When your name is coupled with another, you see a guy walks towards you with a smile. He stops in front of your table.

"You're the one I'm doing the project with, right ?

You smile to him and nod, giving him your name. He repeated your action, introducing himself. He was cute. He sits by your side, you chat a little, getting to know each other. You hope he usually has good grade, you really don't want to repeat your year.

The man now sat on the chair next to you start planning the organization of the project. Dividing the task to be much more efficient. That's what you do, telling him you can do the second part while he does the first. Everything was going well until you realized that it's been a long time since you saw the Kirsch boy, and of course, he had to change that.

The curly man heads your way, smiling upon seeing you make eye contact with him. He stares one second at the man by your side, immediately displaying a smile who you knew announced no good.

"Hi, I'm Ethan. I asked the teacher to change groups. So you're not with her anymore, you're actually with Amber over there" he turns his back to you and point to a girl further away. "The one in blue." He looks back at you two, using his shy demeanor and lanky posture to appear as the nerd you know damn well he isn't. He knows that by acting this way, he is laughed at but never yelled at. He looks innocent.

-What ? Why ? Why would you ask the teacher that ? You ask.

-Because we're friends so we'll work better together." He was giving you that shy smile you learnt to hate. He thought you'd forgive him quicker this way; he was right. You did forgive him quicker in the past, but not anymore. It's quite the opposite now, each time he was trying to manipulate you like this, you were getting angrier.

"And I know how much you're insecure about yourself and all so, it's for you !"

What the actual fuck is he talking about!

All the while telling you this, Ethan never looked in your new friend's way. His attention was solely on you. He's humiliating you, and on purpose. Confused, embarrassed and sorry, you search the other man's eyes. He was just like you. He raises a brow then shrugs. He packs his things, you apologize and he smiles, telling you that it's okay. You felt like shit.

He's heading towards the girl Ethan forced him to work with.

"Why would you do that ?

He's embarrassing ! You look like two losers who only have each others as friends and don't want to talk to anyone else. It's seriously tiring. You've been each other sole friend for years ! You can't even name someone you've been friend with for more than a month !

-We're friends, remember ? he raises his brow, as if telling you the obvious.

-And that's a reason to push everyone else away ? To humiliate me ? What the fuck are you on about me being insecure ? I get that you're angry at me but fuck it Ethan.

-He's an asshole. I saw him around. You really shouldn't hang around him." He does not elucidate on the other part of your sentences. But you know what he would have said already; it's a test to see if he'd stayed, and he didn't so he's not your friend.

You don't even want to argue with him at this point. It was useless, he was never listening to you. It's impossible for you to count the times in which Ethan drove everyone away. You had literally zero friends here but Ethan.

Once, a girl came talk to you in finance but Ethan arrived and jokingly told her you had AIDS. What the fuck ? Who say that first thing when meeting someone ? Even her didn't understand. She just thought you two were weird and never talked to you ever again. It's like he loves to embarrass you in front of everyone. And when you got angry at him, he just said it was a joke but he was just so awkward with people and- Fuck. He pretended to be the victim, again.

You always try to help him. You know he had a difficult childhood, never received love, never had friends, you know. That's why you always overlooked his flaws. But today and this night was just too much.

That night, you locked yourself in the toilet to chat with the owner who could potentially save your life. She asked you about your studies and your work to know more about your profile.

"I'm in New York right now but I'm almost finished with my degree so that's why I plan to move out." You send her.

The owner shares with you her excitement towards you living in New York, saying how she's doesn't understand why would someone leave a big city to a place as desolated as where she is. You answer briefly, something along the lines of family problems.

You really hope she'll accept your profile. Her house is beautiful and perfectly located. Far enough from the city, but close enough that you can go there for a future work. Rent is high but it's necessary or Ethan definitely will end you.

"Did you die in here ?" Ethan knocks on the door. Yeah, you really need to get out of here. Flushing and washing your hand, to make it look credible, you adjust your clothes before opening the door. Ethan is in front of you, staring at you from head to toe.

"Where are we going ?

You heard about a party going on and decided to join on a whim, tired of being locked up here all the time.

-You're personally not going anywhere, you hide your device in your pocket, fearing he might discover your project of leaving town. But I'm leaving for a party. He frowns.

-Who will there be? Who you're going out with ? Why am I not allowed ?

-You don't know them." You say without looking at him, too busy in closing your jacket. You considered lying to him in saying it's a girls only party. But thought otherwise.

"Then don't go."

You sigh, exasperated, and close your eyelids tightly to try to keep your cool. He's doing it again. Grabbing your purse, you search for your bus card while walking to the door.

"Well I want to, Ethan.

-But I don't."

His sentence stopped you in your tracks. The beating of your heart resonate in your head, giving you a headache. You know if he continues in this direction, you will explode. Frustration and rage were mixing in your mind. He has to stop, right now.

Controlling your breathing turns out to be much more difficult in those conditions. Slowly, your body turns towards him. You tilt your head to the side and chuckle dryly, speechless by his audacity. Staring at Ethan with frown accompanying a fake smile, one too happy for your predicament, you realize he doesn't seem uncomfortable at all after saying such stupids things to your face.

"And since when do you decide of what I do ?" you plainly laugh, not even trying to hide it, both sarcastically and in bewilderment.

"Why are you always trying to go and cheat ?

-Excuse me ?

-I'm literally here." he frowns, staring at you like you're the guilty one. "I'm... What the hell do you fucking need ? We can just spend the night on the couch and watch a movie, why're you always leaving me ?" Ethan is shaking his head angrily, showing you his emotions are true by using his body, making his curls bounce in the process.

Him and his stupid movies !

-You can't decide for me. Where does that come from Ethan ? I'm going where I want, when I want with who I want.

-No you're not.

That was the final straw.

-And who the fuck are you ? Who the fuck do you think you are ? You walk up to him, face dangerously close to his.

-Yeah, who am I ? Who am I to you ? What am I ? What are we ? He pushes himself towards you, making you backtrack. I thought we were bonded forever, why the sudden change ?

-I don't care about your teenage crisis for fuck sake ! Everything is always about you, you and you ! I want to leave, so you're going to let me fucking leave !

-You're in love with Chad, right ?

You frown your brow and open your mouth to answer but the shock and utter confusion prevents any words, sounds, from coming out. What is he even talking about ? What is wrong with him ? Where is the fucking link between Chad and you ? You never even pronounced his name in front of him !

-What the fuck, Ethan ! I don't even know him !

-That's what you're saying, now. But what if you're lying to me ? He looked hurt and you couldn't understand it. He was literally creating problem in his head and then getting mad over it.

-How do you even come to this conclusion ! I- You know what ? I don't want to argue. You need some fucking therapy, Ethan.

-That's why you want to leave tonight. You plan on having sex with Chad.

-What the fuck is wrong with you, Ethan. For real. It's not even funny it's just... It's just worrying. What the hell is wrong with you ?

-I'm perfectly fine, what is wrong with you ?

-Don't you dare play this on me.

-Nothing is fucking wrong with me, you always say that but I'm perfectly fine. I told you I just don't want you to have sex with Chad. Sorry for loving my girlfriend I guess !

-Your what now ? Because I don't recall agreeing to-

-That's not the point, you're gonna fuck that fucking idiot !

-Stop saying that ! Fuck, Ethan ! You're weird !

Ethan was a virgin, for sure. But does it excuse the fact that he was being an absolute creep right now ? No. Clearly not. Why was he so invested in your sex life ? And did he have to make it a whole conversation ?

-Ethan, you hold your face in despair, you really need some fucking help because I can't stand it anymore. You're destroying my life. Your lip wobble, you feel like crying but don't know why. Is it anger or sadness, maybe even exhaust. I am tired. So I'm begging you to please consult a therapist.

Out of shock, Ethan stays silent. Watching as your eyes water. He raises a hand towards your face, slowly. But you push it away and leave the place, slamming the door. In the stairs, you jump over a few steps and almost fall multiple times but you don't think about it. You need to leave. If you can find somewhere to sleep at it would be perfect, but you don't push your luck.

Fortunately, you didn't tell Ethan where you were headed. Once at the party, you would have fun and enjoy the moment without thinking about Ethan. That's the plan.

Only, his plan did not concord with yours as an armed masked man came for a surprise visit.

[enchantestuff]

hatred - Charles Leclerc

I think I might make this into a mini series with an enemies to civil with each other to friends to lovers kind of vibe but I'm still not sure, anyways here's Charles x reader wanting to rip each others throats but instead end up ripping each others clothes off

gonna dedicate this to the lovely @yungbludz​ happy birthday <33

GIF NOT MINE

warnings; smut as per usual, Charles being very egotistical, choking, language, enjoy <3

2k words 

part two

It was safe to say you and Charles hated each other. You knew hate was a strong word, but you also knew that you felt nothing but hatred for the man. You hated his cocky smile and the fact that everyone seemed to be obsessed with him. You also hated the fact that you had to spend the whole weekend with him.

You worked for Ferrari, meaning that, unfortunately, you had to spend a lot of time with Charles. You were actually excited when you first got the job of being Charles Leclerc's PR manager. You had admired the driver and couldn’t wait to work alongside him, but that all changed once you actually met him and realised what an ass he really was. Everyone else loved him, of course, because he seemed to be nice to every single person on the planet except you.

You and a select number of the Ferrari team had been invited to a special charity event taking place in the ballroom of a luxurious hotel. You had all decided to check into the hotel the day before the event, in order to save time and familiarise yourself with the venue. Of course, according to your job description, you also had to run through the possible questions Charles could be asked with him.

Although Charles loathed you, he had to admit you were good at your job and managed to prepare him for every possible scenario, which is why he hadn’t begged Mattia to fire you, at least not yet.

You sighed as you reached the check in desk, all you wanted to do was flop onto the hotel bed and sleep until the morning. You gave the lady behind the desk your name and watched as she quickly typed on the computer in front of her. “Ah yes, Y/N and Charles, room 506”

Your eyes widened at her words as you shook your head. “No no, that can’t be right” you pleaded as you leaned your arms against the counter.

“Im sorry ma'am, but the booking is for the both of you” she explained with apologetic eyes as she handed you the room key.

“Take your time, Y/N. Not like we aren’t all exhausted from our long trip” you heard Charles scold from behind you. You quickly turned around and shoved the room key into his chest.

“Politetly, go fuck yourself, Leclerc” you muttered as you shouldered past him and walked straight to Mattia on the other side of reception. Mattia sighed once you walked over and gestured for you to begin arguing with him, he knew it was going to happen.

“Why? Why would you stick me in a room with that-that imbecile!” you snapped.

“Listen, Y/N, i know how much you dislike him and vice versa, but everyone had to be paired with someone and I thought this was the best option for you both” he explained with a soothing voice.

“Why do I have to be with her?” you heard Charles ask from behind you. You felt small standing in front of him, his broad frame practically trapping you between him and Mattia.

“Y/N is your PR manager, it's her job to prepare you for this event” Mattia once again calmly explained

“And she couldn’t do that over breakfast?” Charles inquired, you could feel his tense gaze on the back of your head and you whipped around scoffing at him as you placed your hands on his hips.

“Don’t act like this was my idea! Not everyone wants to share a room with you Charles, get your head out of your ass”

Charles opened his mouth to throw a rude remark your way but Mattia stopped him before he got the chance. “The both of you are sharing this room, whether you like it or not. I think everyone would prefer if you took this time to sort out your problems instead of bickering like children. I’ll see you both at breakfast. Goodnight,” he scolded as he walked off with his luggage in tow.

You felt your cheeks redden as embarrassment creeped up your shoulders. “Are you trying to get me fired?” you accused Charles as you grabbed your own luggage and made way for the elevator.

He shrugged in response, “Wouldn’t be the worst thing” he muttered, stepping inside with you. You pressed your floor number and sighed in frustration. “Can you stop breathing so loud?” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“It was a sigh, dipshit.”

“Trust me, i don't want to be near you as much as you don't want to be near me”

“Glad we're on the same page” you replied, stepping out of the elevator and storming to your room, which in hindsight was a foolish idea as Charles had the key and you had to wait for him as he took his sweet time walking up the hallway.

He unlocked the door with a smug look on his face and stepped in before you, dropping his luggage on the floor as he surveyed the room. “You have got to be kidding me” he complained once he saw the double bed in the middle of the room.

“Oh what is it now, Charles?” you asked as you shut the door behind you “is the carpet not to your liking? Is it too bright? Are there no chocolates on the pillow” you continued and slipped off your shoes, “do you want me to - oh shit” you cursed as you saw the predicament you both were in. “Looks like you're sleeping on the floor” you shrugged whilst walking towards the bed.

“I am NOT sleeping on the floor,” Charles complained.

“What? And you think I am?” you argued, once again placing your hands on your hips.

“I don’t see why not,” he commented, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I am not sharing a bed with you, Leclerc! So you,” you jabbed a finger at his chest, “are going to have to step off your mighty throne and take the gentleman approach and sleep,” jab “on,” jab “the floor,” you snapped.

Charles raised his eyebrow as he stared at you. You could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife, it was almost unbearable. You had never fought this long, somebody had always interrupted you both before you got the chance to really push each other's buttons. “I'm going to say this nice and slow, sweetheart,” Charles growled, taking a step forward, you in turn took a step back as you removed your finger from his chest, “I’ll take the high road, we can share the bed just this once, as long as you stop acting like the spoiled princess that you will never be” he continued to walk towards you as he spoke and you were eventually trapped against the wall.

Charles moved his hand to lie on the wall next to your head, the distance between the two of you becoming smaller and smaller by the second. “I might be ready to step off my throne but are you ready to be a good girl and step off yours too?” he concluded. 

“Bite me, Charles” you retorted and something in the both of you snapped as you grabbed his face in your hands and he roughly grabbed your waist. Your lips violently pressed against his as your tongues practically fought against each other. You almost moaned at the force of his kiss, but refused to give him the satisfaction.

Charles pulled away, giving your mouth a final short kiss before he moved to mark your neck. “Come on, princess. Stop being stubborn for once in your life and let me hear the noises that you can make''

You however kept your mouth shut, Charles smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “If that's how you want to play it,” he smirked before gently grabbing your breast and slipping his hands into the waistband of your leggings. He rubbed circles on your clit as he pinched your nipples. “I want to hear you, sweetheart,” he grunted.

You rolled your eyes back in pleasure and involuntarily let out a moan. Charles felt his dick twitch in his pants and cockily grinned as he kissed right under your nose. “Good girl,” he whispered. It wasn't long before his trousers were discarded as well as your own leggings. You hadn’t moved however and were still pressed up against the wall. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked and although you felt your heart skip a beat you rolled your eyes at him and nodded.

“Yes, please just - just hurry up” you squirmed against the wall. That seemed to be all the validation he needed. He slowly put a condom on before easing into you. You scrunched your eyes at the uncomfortable feeling and tapped him to move. Your lips parting on their own accord as the feeling was replaced with pure pleasure. Charles forcefully grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist, providing him with a better angle for both himself and you.

“O-oh shit” you moaned as you scraped your nails down his shoulders to his arms, which left harsh red marks in their wake. Charles moaned at the feeling and you were almost aroused by the sound. Almost.

One of Charles hands were digging into the soft flesh of your thigh while the other moved to wrap itself around your neck, his signature pinky ring digging into the flesh of your skin causing you to mimic his actions and let out a moan at the pain.

“You like that?” he grunted as he continued to thrust into you, lightly placing some pressure on your throat, not enough to suffocate you, he didn't hate you that much, but enough for you to enter a state of pure bliss.

“I hate you, Leclerc” you found yourself muttering but you certainly did not hate him at that very moment.

“Feelings mutual, love”

You continued to scrape your nails across his back, desperate to pull more moans out of him. Charles however, didn't like being the only vulnerable one and removed his hands from your throat, he grabbed both of your hands in his own and shoved them upwards, beginning his assault on your chest.

Your toes curled as he hit all the right spaces, you knew you were close but you really didn’t want to be the first one to let go. Charles could feel the clenching of your walls and smirked into your chest. “Are you close, princess?” he asked, bringing his mouth to your lips and for some reason you found yourself kissing him back.

“No” you blatantly lied.

You moved your head closer to him when he pulled away but he refused to connect your lips once more and you found yourself pouting at the lack of attention. God, how pathetic had you become.

“Now, i knew you were a spoiled brat but i didn't take you for a liar as well”

“Glad to know your ego has no off moments, Charles” you scoffed and were about to start an argument before he began slowly pounding into you, his precise thrusts made it extremely difficult to formulate a sentence let alone hold onto the knot in your stomach. So, against your brain telling you not to, you let go.

You would have fallen onto the ground if it wasn’t for Charles' strong grip trapping you against the wall and his own body. The noises that he made as he reached his own high caused your heart to flutter in your chest and you began to wonder if having sex with him was a bad idea.

“Are you okay?” he asked after he had pulled away from you. You nodded your head as you furrowed your eyebrows

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you asked.

You were surprised the both of you were capable of having a normal conversation, but you supposed nothing could be normal between you after that.

Charles gently ran a finger across your neck and by the look on his face you knew you looked worse for wear. “I kind of lost myself in the moment, I’m sorry if I hurt you. Really I am” he clarified.

“Its okay” you sighed as you rubbed your neck, “lets just go to sleep”

“I’m still not sleeping on the floor”

“Just stay on your side of the bed, Leclerc”

[lunar-wandering]

Lanterns and Lies

surprise!! here we go, the sequel to Glamours and Gauze!

Word Count: 7k

Read on Ao3

-

Macaque had lied, when he said the shadow lantern was gone.

When the Lady Bone Demon had caught him, she had made a specific note of needing the lantern.

And, well, Macaque wouldn't let that happen.

So he'd shattered it, again, and during the Lady Bone Demon's momentary shock, he'd taken the opportunity to gather the broken pieces and run.

One of her minions had cut him with the cursed knife while he was running away.

That didn't matter now though, his injuries had been healed, and the Lady Bone Demon had yet to make another move. For now, sitting on the roof of the noodle shop, he was safe.

He starred down at the shattered pieces of the lantern in his hands.

With a sigh, he carefully extended his magic, putting the pieces back together again, reforming the lantern. He held it gently in his hands as he looked around the roof.

Now where was he gonna hide this-

"Macaque, I brought plums!"

Macaque startled upon hearing MK's voice, he'd been so distracted focusing on putting the lantern back together, he hadn't even heard the other climb up the ladder to the roof.

The.....lantern....

Which he told MK was gone....

In a rush to avoid MK seeing the lantern, Macaque did the first thing he thought of.

He shoved the lantern into himself, letting it mix into his own magic. Not the smartest way of storing it, it was a highly magical item, who knows how it would act while in direct contact with his magic, but it was the first thing he could think of, and this was only a temporary measure, so it should be fine.

....Probably.

"Hey bud, what's up?" Macaque asked, turning around to face MK, who was setting a small bowl of plums on the ground. "...What are the plums for?"

"You said that if I brought you some plums, you'd tell me about the time Monkey King walked into a tree." MK said, "And I fully expect you to keep your end of the bargain."

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Macaque said, grabbing the bowl of plums. "Well you see, what happened was-"

-

"That had to be the stupidest shit you've ever pulled, Wukong." Macaque said, breathing heavily as he leaned against a tree. Wukong for his part, just smirked.

"I didn't see you try to stop me." He said, laughing as Macaque glared at him.

"I did try to stop you. Multiple times. But you didn't listen." He said, "You really need to stop picking a fight with every random person you meet."

"You're no fun at all." Wukong said, yawning as he stretched. Macaque rolled his eyes.

"Whatever." He said, "Anyways, we should probably head back to the cave, get some rest-"

"I'm not tired." Wukong said.

"You literally yawned a few seconds ago."

"Doesn't mean I'm tired. Besides, there's still more stuff to do." Wukong said, turning and walking off further into the mountain's forest, Macaque trailing behind him. As they walked, Macaque noticed Wukong start slouching, little by little. He didn't say anything though, knowing that Wukong would only deny it if asked.

It would be better just to watch and deal with the consequences when they came.

And oh boy, did the consequences come: in the form of Wukong turning a corner and immediately walking directly into a tree. The tree snapped in half, falling to the ground, with Wukong tumbling down after it. There was a loud thump, as dust and leaves were sent flying into the air. A few nearby birds called out in concern.

"Timber." Macaque said, a smirk on his face, walking over and crouching down beside where Wukong now lay on his back with a dazed expression on his face. "So. Not tired, huh?"

"Shut up." Wukong hissed, sitting up, pulling dirt and leaves out of his fur as he did so. "The tree just. Got in my way, that's all-"

"You're expecting me to believe that a tree got up and put itself in your path?" Macaque asked, "Wukong. I'm not stupid. Let's just hurry up and go back to the cave to rest already."

"I'm fine." Wukong said, moving to stand up, but wobbling a little, tipping backwards again-

Macaque caught him, keeping him from having another close encounter with the ground.

-

"I ended up having to carry him all the way back up the mountain." Macaque said, making little images with his shadows in order to give MK a better visual of what happened. "He ended up sleeping for like, 3 days. Took him still being tired when he woke up again for me to realize he'd gotten cursed. Wasn't hard to break it afterwards, but boy did Wukong protest the whole time. Practically had to tie him to his bed."

MK scribbled in his sketch book, and Macaque, out of curiosity, moved closer, looking over MK's shoulder to see a sketch of what Macaque had just described.

"....You're drawing this?" He asked. MK nodded.

"Yeah! I've got a lifetime goal of illustrating all of Monkey King's adventures!" MK said, pausing his sketching to show Macaque a quick flip through of the rest of the book. "...You got any other stories?"

"Lots." Macaque said, leaning back. "But you're gonna have to bring more plums if you want more stories. I'm not just gonna hand this info out for free."

"Of course, of course." MK said, standing up and walking back over to the ladder, mumbling to himself as he climbed back down. "I'm going to have to permanently add plums to my shopping list...."

Macaque stayed where he was, waiting patiently until he couldn't hear MK anymore, before letting out a relieved sigh.

That had been close.... No matter what, he couldn't let the others know that he still had the lantern. Revealing that would probably cause the others to push him away, they wouldn't trust him anymore, and he really couldn't have that. Hanging around them was the most advantageous position for him to be in right now, and he wasn't about to give it up any time soon.

...He still needed a place to hide it permanently, keeping it inside of himself probably wouldn't be a good idea in the long term. With that thought in mind, he mentally reached inwards with his magic, shadows starting to surround him as he prepared to take the lantern out-

"Hey, Macaque!"

Macaque startled again, the shadows that had condensed around him vanishing as though they'd been popped like party balloons as he whirled around to see-

Mei, who giggled at his shocked expression, holding up her phone and taking a quick picture of him before pocketing it.

"Would you two stop doing that?" Macaque asked, sighing as Mei circled around him.

"Hey, it's not my fault you didn't hear me coming." Mei said, giggling at the expression on Macaque's face. "Seriously, with all those ears you have it's a wonder you didn't-"

"What do you want." Macaque growled, "You wouldn't be here if you didn't want something."

"Wouldn't I?"

That. Wasn't a question Macaque felt that he could answer. He honestly couldn't think of a reason why any of MK's friends would want to be around him, but they hadn't really been pushing him away either....

Mei seemed a little concerned with how he'd suddenly gone silent though, so it was probably best to quickly change the subject.

"Ah, anyways, I have some stuff to do, so I don't really have time for you." Macaque said, walking past Mei and over to the edge of the rooftop. Distantly, he noted a weird tingling sensation come over him, but he ignored it, figuring it wasn't important.

"Oh, now that's a lie." Mei said, a smirk on her face. "You never do anything other than lounge around up here."

"Do not." Macaque said, crossing his arms. "I do plenty, you just haven't noticed."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

Macaque pondered for a moment on how best to answer-

And that was when his foot started sinking into the shadow underneath of him.

Outwardly, Macaque remained perfectly calm, not letting Mei in on the fact that anything was amiss.

Inwardly, he panicked.

That was definitely not supposed to be happening, why was it happening it shouldn't be happening why was he l o s i n g  c o n t r o l-

He was snapped out of his panic when he heard the sound of an engine starting up behind him. Subtly looking over his shoulder, he could see MK, ready to drive off, probably to deliver some noodles.

Macaque made his decision in a split second.

Turning and pulling his foot out of the shadow it'd been sinking into, Macaque jumped off the roof. Ignoring Mei's shout of "Hey, wait!", he slipped into the shadow of the tuk tuk, just before MK started to drive away.

-

Macaque hung out in the shadow of the tuk tuk for about 15 minutes before he actually bothered to wonder where exactly MK was going.

MK slowed down a bit as he turned a corner, and Macaque figured it was as good a time as any to ask.

Carefully, he materialized on the back of the tuk tuk, then, after making sure there wasn't anything around for MK to accidentally hit should he swerve, asked;

"Where are you going?"

MK's foot slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching and Macaque almost falling off from the sudden inertia. As soon as they were still, MK whirled around, staring at Macaque, shocked.

"How long have you been there?" He asked, and the expression on his face genuinely made Macaque laugh.

"Oh, not very long." Macaque said, "I was riding along in the shadow for the most part."

"...You can do that?" MK asked, "You probably save like, so much money when traveling then-"

"Bold of you to assume that I have any money at all." Macaque said, "Anyways, you didn't answer the question. Where are you going?"

"Why do you want to know?" MK asked, crossing his arms. "And why are you here anyways? Usually you just stay on the roof, what changed?"

"Nothing! What, can't I just want to go for a ride once in a while?" Macaque said-

And his hand started sinking into the shadow beside him. Swiftly, he pulled it out, rubbing it to get rid of the remaining tingles. MK watched this happen with a look of suspicion.

"...Uh-huh, sure, like I believe that." He said, tone as dry as the desert. "And anyways, I don't think you'd want to-"

And then he paused, looking as though he'd just been hit with some kind of realization.

"Actually-" MK started, "I think it would be good if you came with me."

He turned back around, taking his foot off the break and turning back onto the road, speeding up a little.

"You still haven't told me where we're going." Macaque said.

"Oh, you'll soon find out."

Macaque had a feeling he wasn't going to like this.

-

He was right. He hated this.

Staring up at a temple that quite obviously belonged to Sun Wukong, Macaque regretted every decision he had made in his life that had led up to this moment.

He regretted it even more when the monkey himself opened the front gate.

"Ah, there you are kid!" Wukong said, "I was beginning to think you'd never show up!"

"I'm only 2 minutes late..." MK muttered, and Macaque couldn't help but laugh a bit at that.

Sun Wukong was not, exactly, known for being very patient after all.

"Oh, I see you brought... an audience." Wukong said, finally noticing that Macaque was, in fact, also there.

"Audience? Please, if anything I'm the lead actor." Macaque said.

"Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that." MK said, and Macaque would've hit him where it not for the warning glance Wukong gave him.

-

Macaque ended up being dragged to MK's training sessions with Wukong, again and again. Some days it was because MK himself forcibly brought him along, and on other days it was because Macaque was simply avoiding Mei. (He denied the accusation that he was avoiding her when asked...and then almost tripped as his foot sank deeper into the shadows. Luckily he'd managed to blame it on a stray tree root, but he wasn't sure how long he could keep it up...) 

Over the course of said days, Macaque had tried multiple times to find a better place to hide the lantern than within his own magic. (He'd long since figured out that the lantern was reacting whenever he lied, thus messing with his own magic. He had no idea why it was doing this, but the why didn't really matter so long as he could find a way to stop it.) But of course, since karma was apparently out to get him, he was interrupted by someone every single time, forcing him to keep the lantern within himself, lest the others find out about it.

Honestly though, he was shocked that Wukong hadn't noticed, considering his golden vision and all, he should've been able to see the fact that the lantern's magic was contained within Macaque.

(Macaque had nearly panicked when, on day 2 of him following MK to his training, Wukong had leaned close to him with a contemplative look on his face.

"...Why are you so close to me?" Macaque had asked, and huh, how long had that slit been in Wukong's eyebrow? Had it been there for a while and Macaque had just never noticed or-

"I'm checking to see how much of the glamor you're wearing." Was Wukong's response, as he studied him. "You're still recovering, you probably shouldn't be using magic to cover all of it."

So....Wukong was concerned about him. Macaque couldn't really imagine why, but still-

"You didn't need to get so close to me- can't you obviously see I'm wearing it?" Macaque had asked, gesturing at his own face. Wukong, surprisingly, winced at that, finally backing up a bit.

"Well, I guess you seem fine." He'd muttered, turning away, "Don't know why I was even worried."

And Macaque should've been relieved, but for some reason-

For some reason he felt like something was wrong.)

-

Macaque relaxed in the shade of a tree, watching Wukong train MK. It was almost soothing to watch the mentor and student trade hits as they sparred.

But of course, being relaxed didn't mean that Macaque didn't notice things.

Like how Wukong was a full 2 seconds slower in blocking MK's attacks than he'd been when Macaque had stolen MK's powers. Which wasn't really something that would normally raise concern- he probably just wasn't being as serious as he would be when encountering an actual threat, but.

Something about it was making the alarm bells that had been constantly ringing in Macaque's head louder. (Something he, obviously, didn't appreciate. Loud sounds, even mental ones, weren't very pleasant for him).

Macaque, of course, was never one to miss an opportunity to call Wukong out.

Which was why it was so surprising when MK beat him to the punch.

"Monkey King, are you okay?" MK asked, and Macaque sat up straighter, paying more attention, because oh, he wanted to hear this.

"Of course bud! Why do you ask?" Wukong said, and despite the fact that his back was to Macaque, the shadow monkey just knew that the other was lying.

"Well I don't know, you've just- seemed off, is all." MK said, shifting back and forth as he seemed to contemplate what to say. "Like, a little slower maybe? And I haven't seen you use your cloud in days, which is kinda weird, since you normally seem to use it-"

Wukong stiffened, and it was at this point that Macaque got genuinely curious, deciding that he had to see what kind of expression the other monkey was making right now. So, he slipped down into the shadows of the tree, and reappeared out of MK's shadow, startling the both of them as he slung an arm around MK's shoulder. 

"Kid's right y'know." Macaque said, putting on a smirk as he looked at the other. "Even I've noticed, and I've barely even been paying attention."

That was a lie, and he barely kept himself from wincing as he felt the tingle of magic flow through his body.

Only for nothing to seemingly happen. That was...mildly concerning, he'd felt the flow of magic, so something had definitely occurred, he just couldn't tell what.

...Well, whatever. If he couldn't notice it then it probably wasn't important.

Macaque refocused back in on the subject at hand, studying Wukong's expression. Nothing he hadn't expected, the usual nervous smile and look in his eyes that indicated he was lying where all there.

Or, well, most of it was expected.

The slight twinge of fear was new.

"I'm telling you, there's nothing wrong!" Wukong said, taking a slight step back. "I'm fine, really!"

Both MK and Macaque rolled their eyes in sync.

"If you're so fine, then explain to me why you keep waiting until MK is almost right in front of you before blocking him?" Macaque asked, MK nodding along as he spoke. "Seriously, it's like you can't see it unless it's close-"

Both Macaque and MK froze, coming to the same conclusion at the same time. Wukong, seeing the expressions on their faces, scratched his cheek nervously, avoiding their gaze.

"Oh my heavens." MK said, "You need glasses."

"I do not-"

-

Tang had been having a peaceful day at the noodle shop.

Having, being the key word.

Because suddenly, said peaceful day was interrupted as Macaque appeared out of nowhere beside him. Tang barely kept himself from startling out of his stool. (He'd started to grow used to the shadow monkey's sudden appearances, but that didn't really make them any less startling).

Macaque, for a moment, looked confused as to where he was, looking around in surprise, before taking notice of Tang and schooling his features into something unreadable.

"Oh." He said, "Uh. Hello?"

"Hello to you too, Macaque?" Tang said, a little confused, before finally taking notes of one important fact.

Macaque's eyes were fully purple.

"...Ah." Tang said, "Not Macaque."

"Hm, smart man." 'Macaque' said, leaning back, "Nope, I'm not the original. Just a shadow clone, that's all I am."

"Why are you here? Is there trouble?" Tang asked, worry seeping into his voice. The clone just shrugged.

"Dunno." 'Macaque' said, "One minute, I didn't exist, the next, I'm here."

"How can you just not know?" Tang asked, blinking in disbelief.

"He probably created me on accident." 'Macaque' said, almost as casually as though he was reading out a morning newspaper.

"That can happen??"

"Well, not normally, but in certain cases-" The clone started, then paused, eyes narrowing. "Well, actually, if that's the case, he probably doesn't know I exist right now..."

"Shouldn't you... tell him?" Tang asked, and watched as the clone contemplated it.

"Well I mean, not telling him would be kind of funny." He said, before shaking himself out of it. "No- no, you're right, I should probably tell him."

The clone proceeded to go completely silent, and Tang watched him with thinly veiled concern. After about 2 minutes of silence, with the clone making increasingly dramatic facial expressions, Tang decided to comment again.

"...Are you actually contacting him right now?" He asked, and the clone broke out of whatever state he was in to glance at him.

"Hm? Oh- yeah." He said, "Mental connection, y'know?"

"Then how come MK doesn't ever-"

"Cause he doesn't know it exists."

-

Of course. Of course the lantern had made a clone.

That certainly explained why there hadn't been any obvious reaction after the magic tingle.

Although, it was weird that the clone had ended up in the noodle shop. Why on Earth would it have formed there?

(In all honesty, it was probably because, once again, Macaque felt safe there. But he never planned to admit that fact, not even to himself, so he slid that thought back into the deepest part of his mind.)

As it was now though, Macaque sat back under the tree, head in hands, mentally communicating with the clone as MK and Wukong continued to argue about whether or not the Monkey King needed glasses.

"C'mon!" MK said, stomping his foot on the ground, "Just admit that you're nearsighted already! It's obvious!"

"I don't need glasses!" Wukong said, hopping backwards as MK tried to tackle him. "I can see just fine!"

This statement was contradicted, as MK suddenly moved backwards, distancing himself from his mentor. Macaque could see Wukong squint, something he wouldn't normally do-

And then MK moved forwards, with a speed Macaque honestly hadn't seen him use before (and wasn't that funny, that somehow this argument was actually causing MK's speed to improve) and managed to tackle Wukong to the ground.

A roll of parchment fell out of one of Wukong's pockets.

"Oh?" Macaque said, standing up, temporarily blocking his shadow clone's messages out of his mind (it was fine anyways, it seemed to have gotten distracted), he walked over, picking up the roll of parchment. "What's this?"

"Wh-Hey!" Wukong said, looking up from his position of being pinned to the ground by MK, squinting his eyes as he focused on Macaque. "Don't- give that back!"

"Well now, if you're so pressed over it then I kinda have to look, right?" Macaque said, slowly unrolling the scroll despite Wukong's protests. MK, surprisingly, kept Wukong pinned, watching with curiosity as Macaque looked over the parchment's contents. "....Huh."

"What is it?" MK asked, and Macaque turned, holding out the unrolled parchment so that MK could see it. Wukong, at this point, stopped struggling, simply laying on the ground face down.

"Tell me, Wukong, why exactly do you need a map?" Macaque asked, crouching down in front of the other. "You planning on going on vacation again or something?"

"You're going to leave me again?" MK asked, and maybe Macaque was just hearing things (rather unlikely....) but there was almost a note of panic in MK's voice.

Wukong must've picked up on the panic too, as he quickly jumped into reassurance.

"Woah, hey, I'm not- I'm not vacationing any time soon." He said, attempting to shift around a little, before sighing. "...Could you get off me now, please?"

MK scrambled to get off his mentor, Wukong slowly sitting up and stretching a little. Macaque rolled his eyes at the display, shaking the map a little to draw their attention back to it.

"Hey, I'm not letting you off that easily." He said, "Explain the map. Now."

Wukong sighed again, avoiding both Macaque and MK's eyes.

"...Fine, so maybe I.....wasn't exactly on vacation...." Wukong muttered, "I was...searching for something. A weapon."

"...To fight the Lady Bone Demon, right?" MK asked, and Wukong looked at him in shock.

"How'd you-"

"Maybe leaving your successor alone when there's a powerful demon on the loose isn't the best decision, Wukong." Macaque said, rolling up the map and putting into his own pocket, before lightly rubbing his arm, a few specific... memories running through his mind. "Seriously, be glad she still hasn't gotten everything she needs."

"What do you know about what she-" MK started, then cut himself off, looking at Macaque as though he'd been given the answer to everything. "She's the one who hurt you."

Macaque didn't respond, turning around and walking away.

"Hey wait- where are you-" Wukong started-

"I'm going back to my spot under the tree." Macaque said, "You two can sort through whatever your 'vacation' was about on your own."

-

"...Huh." The shadow clone muttered, eyes closed as he seemingly listened in on whatever was happening to the real Macaque. "That's.....interesting."

"What is?" Tang asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Nothing really important." The clone said- and started melting slightly. Tang looked on in confusion as the clone suddenly panicked, stumbling over his words. "Wait- no I mean- it, it is important, but not really something I should be the one to tell you about?"

The melting stopped, the shadow clone returning to normal as he let out a sigh of relief.

"Does that....usually happen?" Tang asked.

"No." The clone answered, but didn't elaborate. Tang figured he'd just have to ask the real Macaque about it later. "...Anyways, do you think you could help the real me out with something?"

"Depends on what said something is." Tang said, crossing his arms.

"It's nothing bad, I promise." The shadow clone said, chuckling. "But, would you happen to know where I could buy a pair of glasses?"

-

"This is dumb. I look stupid."

"Aw come on Monkey King, I think you look cool!" Mei said, MK nodding along with her. "The glasses suit you just fine!"

Wukong sighed, sitting in the noodle shop with his arms crossed, leaning on the counter.

"What's with the sudden need for glasses anyways?" Pigsy asked, sliding a bowl of peach slices over to the monkey. Subtly, he also handed a bowl of plums over to Macaque, who was sitting slightly off to the side in the shadows.

Wukong stiffened, pausing for a moment before opening his mouth to answer-

"And don't lie to me." Pigsy added, and Wukong slouched a little.

(Macaque had to admit, it was kinda fun to watch the Monkey King basically get reprimanded like a child.

The only reason he didn't comment on it was that he was sure that if he did, he'd get the exact same treatment.)

There was a moment of silence, before Wukong groaned, laying his head down on the table, and muttering something that was too quiet for the others to hear, but nearly made Macaque choke on the plum he'd been chewing on.

"What?!" He said, in pure shock, "You- you're losing your powers?!"

Almost instantly, there was pandemonium.

"What do you mean you're losing your powers!" MK practically screeched, "That can happen?!"

"I don't know, but it's the only explanation I've got!" Wukong said, throwing his hands up into the air. "I can't use my golden vision or my cloud anymore- and I don't know why!"

"How, exactly, does this relate back to you suddenly needing glasses?" Pigsy asked, completely ignoring how the others where in varying states of a mental breakdown.

"I- I usually just use my golden vision to make up for it." Wukong said, "Like, magic contacts, you know?"

"...And now you can't do that anymore." Tang said, "Because you can't use your golden vision."

"......Yeah." Wukong sighed.

"Is there...anything we can do to help?" Sandy tentatively asked.

"Well, I was planning on going out and finding.... something." Wukong said, turning to look at Macaque. "Speaking of which, you promised you'd give me the map back once I got glasses, and I'm wearing them now so-"

Macaque tsk'd, pulling the map out of his pocket and tossing it over to the other monkey, who caught it and placed it upon the counter. 

"It's not like I can go and get it now though." Wukong said, the others staring over him to look down at the map. "Since I can't use my cloud anymore..."

"I have an airship." Sandy said, and Wukong turned to look at him in confusion. "We could use that, to travel there."

"What- no. No. Absolutely not." Wukong said, jumping up onto the counter (ignoring Pigsy disapproving glare), and staring down at the others. "In case you don't remember, you guys have something called mortality. I'm not going to just bring you guys with me-"

"Like you have much of a choice." A new voice said, and Macaque barely kept himself from startling as he suddenly noticed Red Son beside him.

"How long have you been there-" Macaque hissed, but was ultimately ignored.

"You coming too, Red Boy?" Mei asked, despite Wukong's faint protests that nobody was coming with him, thank you very much-

"I have nothing better to do." Red Son said, shrugging. "My parents went on vacation a little while ago, I've just been hanging around since then."

"So, we're all going?" MK asked, glancing over at Macaque, who, realizing he was being stared at, sighed, standing up and stepping closer to them, in the light.

"Fine, whatever." He said, "If you guys want me to go, I'll come, but I'm not happy about it."

The others stared at him, with a mixture of confusion and shock.

"....What?" Macaque asked, already dreading the answer. MK slowly pointed behind him.

"Has your shadow always moved like that?" He asked, and Macaque didn't even bother to look, instead immediately slamming his back against the wall to cover it as he threw a glamor over his own shadow. He wasn't sure what it had been doing that the others saw, but he absolutely refused to let it be seen any longer.

"...Whatever it was you saw, forget about it." He said, and while most of the others simply shrugged, accepting it as just him being weird, looking away-

The look in Mei and Wukong's eyes did not promise good things.

-

The first day on the ship, everyone was mainly focused on settling in, making sure all their stuff was where it needed to be, choosing rooms, so on and so forth.

And so, for the most part, Macaque was free from whatever Wukong and Mei were planning.

The second day on the ship, however.

The second day on the ship made Macaque wish the airship had a plank so he could jump off of it.

It had started small.

"Hey, Macaque?" Mei asked, grabbing his attention before practically shoving her phone into his face. "What do you think about this?"

Macaque could barely register the image in front of his face, but eventually parsed it out to be a picture of- a kitten??

"I hate it." He said, instinctively, and almost immediately started sinking into the shadow beneath him. Mei, being so close to him, immediately noticed, confusion flashing on her face for a brief second, before a smirk took over.

"If you say so." She said, and backed off, turning away as Macaque hurriedly pulled his feet out of the shadows before he could sink any further.

Some part of him hoped that would be the end of it.

As soon as he ran into Wukong though, he instantly knew that this wasn't over by a long shot.

"Macaque." Wukong said, leaning against the wall, and Macaque instantly noticed that his glasses were missing.

"You owe Tang 5 cents." Macaque hissed, it was well known that Tang had made the Monkey King promise to pay him whenever the monkey was caught not wearing his glasses. Macaque, of course, didn't really care, but he was looking for some way to distract Wukong from whatever he was planning to do to him.

"I'll pay him later." Wukong shrugged, and Macaque mentally cursed. "So. How'd you sleep last night?"

Macaque wasn't going to be led into the trap this obviously was.

"How did you sleep last night?" He shot back.

"I didn't." Wukong said, perfectly honest. "I did see you walking around for a bit though, so I'm curious as to whether or not you slept. You need it more than I do, remember?"

That.... was true. Macaque did need to sleep more than Wukong did, but-

"I slept just fine." Macaque lied, sighing as he felt the glamor over his ears fade away. Wukong crossed his arms, a concerned look on his face, but Macaque ignored it, choosing instead to walk into a nearby shadow to teleport to another location on the ship, throwing his glamor back on as he did so.

(He, in truth, was in the same boat as Wukong, both literally and figuratively. He hadn't slept at all, instead laying awake all night, worrying.

Wukong was losing his powers. MK was not nearly close enough to being ready. The others, outside of Red Son, might have some powers or abilities, but they are no where near close enough to being capable of beating the Lady Bone Demon.

He'd have to rely on the unknowns of this weapon Wukong was seeking out.

Macaque didn't like relying on unknowns.)

He emerged in the ships engine room-

And very nearly fell right on top of Red Son.

"Watch where you're going!" Red Son huffed, dodging out of the way and angrily brushing non existent dirt off of his jacket. "Seriously, what is with you guys and trying to knock me to the ground?"

"Maybe you just look very squishable." Macaque muttered, not really intending on giving Red Son a proper response. He actually didn't want to interact with anyone right now, especially not Red Son, so he turned, moving to leave the engine room-

"Not so fast." Red Son said, stopping Macaque in his tracks by grabbing hold of the back of his scarf. "I've got some questions for you."

Hm. That didn't bode well.

"What makes you think that I have any answers?" Macaque asked, only to be met by a deadpan look that promised-

That promised fire if he didn't co-operate.

If there was a list of things Macaque strictly didn't want, fire would be number one, at the top of the list.

"...What do you want to know?" He asked, slumping a little in defeat.

"Why you stayed." Red Son said, elaborating when Macaque only looked at him in confusion. "Your wound healed. You were perfectly free to go. And yet.... you stayed. Like you were....trying to protect something."

"Uh, yeah, myself, obviously." Macaque said, shrugging. "Hanging out around the Monkey King and his successor is the safest place to be after-"

"That's not it." Red Son said, and Macaque froze. "Sure, staying around them while you're weak makes sense, you'd need someone to protect you. But after you've recovered? Once you're strong again? Sure, I can understand you getting attached, but always staying around them is a little strange."

There was a glint, in Red Son's eye, and Macaque suddenly remembered a moment, yesterday, where Mei had dragged the fire demon off to the side to have a little conversation. He'd thought nothing about it at the time, but now-

"You say that you're protecting yourself....But at this point, somehow, you're mostly protecting them, aren't you?" Red Son asked, "Whatever it is you're hiding, you're hiding it to protect both yourself and them."

Macaque didn't answer, instead staring at the floor.

Whatever Mei and Wukong had been planning, Red Son was in on it.

And he was very clearly not as interested in taking a subtle approach.

"Your powers have been on the fritz lately." Red Son said, almost like it was an afterthought to his whole theory. "Don't think that we haven't noticed. It's different from Wukong though, in that you're not losing your powers, if anything, it's like they're getting stronger, almost as though they're being drawn from a different source-"

Macaque didn't want to stay here any longer.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He lied, and didn't resist as his powers fluctuated in response, letting himself completely fall into the shadow behind him.

-

He ended up falling out of a shadow on the ceiling.

Luckily, it was in his own room, so no-one else was there to witness it.

Didn't mean it didn't hurt though.

"...That's gonna bruise later...." He muttered to himself as he slowly pushed himself off the floor and stood up.

For a moment, he just stood there, slightly dazed.

And then he started pacing.

This was not good, the others were onto him, he wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer.

Not to mention the lantern, it's influence on his abilities was getting stronger the longer he left it inside himself. There was literally no telling how far it's influence would go.

(He'd already started noticing some strands of his fur turning purple. It wasn't anything that couldn't easily be covered up by a glamor, but the fact it was happening at all was incredibly concerning.)

He had to find another place to hide it. But where-

And suddenly, Macaque was struck by an idea. A rather bad idea, honestly, there was sure to be consequences from this, but it was the only idea he had right now.

-

The ship's clock struck 4 am.

Macaque slipped into MK's room, holding the faintly glowing lantern.

For a moment, he stood there, beside MK's bed, letting the lantern hover over top of him, thinking.

Maybe......maybe he shouldn't do this. He could probably find another way, something more reasonable than a hastily made, sleep deprived, decision. After all, the lantern had proven that it came with side effects, who knows how it'd affect MK?

Well. If he's actually being honest, he was hoping that the Monkey King Magic MK had would effectively cancel out the lanterns effects.

...He had no way of proving that it could do that though.

After a few more minutes of standing there, mentally debating, Macaque finally came to the decision that, yeah, this wasn't a good idea, he should just go back to his room and try to sleep for the few remaining hours of the night, come up with a better plan tomorrow-

A loud sound clanged from the engine room, and Macaque startled, barely keeping himself from squeaking as the sudden noise surprised him, squeezing his hands on instinct-

And snapping the lantern in half, the bottom piece falling and merging into MK's magic.

For a moment, Macaque just stood there in shock.

Then MK curled up, letting out a small noise of pain as little golden and purple sparks started shooting across his body, and Macaque panicked, reaching into MK's magic and hurriedly pulling out the other half of the lantern, shoving both pieces back into himself as MK started to stir.

By the time MK was sitting up, blinking his eyes open, rubbing his arms and looking around the room in confusion, Macaque was gone.

-

The next day, Wukong practically broke down Macaque's door, MK in tow.

"Mine explaining to me why there are traces of shadow magic all over MK?" He asked, before pausing as he registered the scene in front of him.

Macaque was curled up under his blankets, a pillow over his head effectively hiding him from view. The only part of the other monkey that Wukong could actually see was his tail, which was dangling over the side.

This wasn't really that weird, Wukong fully remembered that the other monkey was in no way a morning person.

...It was slightly more weird due to the fact that it was lunchtime.

"Is he...okay?" MK asked, leaning over his mentor's shoulder.

"You tell me." Wukong said, "You're the one with the golden vision right now."

Macaque's tail, which had been swinging idly, froze, and suddenly there was a mad scramble as he tried to pull all the blankets off of himself and sit up at the same time. Essentially, he ended up rather tangled, and was far too late to stop MK from using his golden vision.

-

At first there was nothing MK hadn't already expected. The bags under the eyes, the mussed up fur, the six ears and the scar. These were all things he knew that he'd find.

The purple streaks in Macaque's fur was surprising.

But not nearly as surprising as the lantern that lay intermingled with Macaque's own magic.

"What do you see, kid?" Wukong asked, and MK watched as Macaque sat up straighter, finally managing to pull the blankets off of himself.

"Nothing! He sees nothing! Right, bud?" Macaque asked, a panicked twinge in his voice, and-

MK could see the lantern flare, the magic traversing Macaque's entire body, before condensing around his arm.

Which proceeded to sink into the shadow on the bed.

"...Well." MK started, staring as Macaque pulled his hand out of the shadow and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "That's not something you see every day."

-

"So I was right then?" Red Son asked, "He's been storing the lantern within himself?"

"How'd you even know about the lantern..." Macaque muttered, from where he sat at the kitchen table, leaning back with his arms crossed. His glamor had been taken down, allowing everyone to see the purple streaks in his fur.

The lantern sat on the table in front of him.

"I have my sources." Red Son said, looking overly proud of himself. Macaque huffed, looking away.

"I thought you said the lantern was destroyed?" Mei said, using a spoon to lightly poke the lantern, almost as though it would grow legs and run away.

"Yeah, like, I saw you break it-" MK started, and then was stopped mid sentence as Macaque raised his fist, before harshly crushing the lantern, breaking it into pieces. A few of the others jumped. "What did you do that for-"

Macaque simply raised his hand, letting his magic call out, and letting the pieces slide back into their proper place. By the end of it, the lantern looked as good as new, as though it'd never been broken. MK watched the display with wide eyes.

"I did break the lantern." Macaque said, "It's just not that hard to fix."

"Regardless-" Wukong started, grabbing the lantern out of Macaque's hand, the lantern switching from it's usual purple to a soft golden glow as he did so. "You seriously should've told us that you have this. It would've saved you so much trouble."

"Would you have trusted me, if you knew I still had it?" Macaque asked, only to be met with silence. "...Yeah. Thought so."

There was a moment of silence as Macaque sat there, looking down, not meeting anyone's eyes. Then Sandy softly placed his hand on Macaque's shoulder.

"It's not that we wouldn't have trusted you." He said, gently. "We would've just taken a bit longer to come around, is all."

"Uh-huh, sure, keep telling yourself that." Macaque said, still looking at the floor, and thus missing the entirely silent conversation everyone else shared.

They all agreed they probably weren't going to get very far with this issue any time soon, by the look of things. (That didn't mean they wouldn't bring it up later, though.)

"If you thought we wouldn't trust you if we knew you had the lantern, then why didn't you just, I don't know, throw it away?" MK asked, and Macaque sighed, slouching down in his chair.

"...Lady Bone Demon wanted it." He muttered, and everyone immediately stood up ramrod straight.

"What?" Wukong hissed, staring down at the lantern in his hands as though he was seeing it in a new light. "Why- what could she possibly want with-"

"Don't know, didn't stick around long enough to find out." Macaque said, shrugging. MK and Red Son both looked horrified.

"That's how you got injured." MK muttered, "She must've captured you because she wanted the lantern...."

"The Lady Bone Demon has a cursed blade..." Red Son said, under his breath, only Macaque hearing him.

"Yeah yeah, I got captured, I got injured, whatever, it's all over with now." Macaque said, waving a hand around as though he wasn't making light of something horrifying. "Anyways, anyone else got any bright ideas on where to hide the lantern?"

"....Was that a pun." Wukong asked, "Seriously. You reveal that the Lady Bone Demon is after both you and the lantern and then you swap topics with a pun?"

"You got a problem with that?" Macaque asked, a smirk on his face. There was a moment of tense silence as the two of them stared at each other.

Wukong set the lantern back down on the table.

And then tackled Macaque out of his chair and onto the floor. Macaque let out a startled yelp as they went down, before quickly switching to clawing at the other as Wukong easily pinned him to the ground-

And then suddenly Wukong's grip weakened, and Macaque easily reversed their positions, pinning Wukong to the floor. For a moment the Monkey King looked confused, before a look of nervous realization appeared on his face.

"Uh- guys?" He said, nervously giggling as Macaque and the others stared at him in confusion. "Um. I think I just lost my super strength?"

[nincompoopydoo]

“ what good is heaven, when all i want is hell “ with Loki Laufeyson x reader, enemies to lovers

IN ANOTHER TIMELINE

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson x reader WORDS: 1.4k (my hand slipped) SUMMARY: Stranded on Lamentis, the event of the impending apocalypse seem to mend the fire and fury between you and Loki as deeper feelings begin to come to light. A/N: Starting a fic with the f-word is such a classy move 😎Also, why the hell do I keep writing stuff that's angsty? And I replaced the words heaven and hell to fit the situation and their backgrounds a little more, I hope you don't mind. Thank you for requesting, nonny! WARNINGS: Swearing. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERLIST

“Fuck you.”

The profanity spits from your mouth, reflecting the spitfire of your personality. You’re like a raging fire that licks through everything in its way with ravenous swipes. Your eyes are sharp, needle-point orbs that prick his own. He would have to turn away from the overwhelming sense of a sting you leave without a care of the world. No touch or a strike to him, yet you have managed to bruise him all over again. It boils down to the only reason he hates you with as much passion as you portray. Forever caught in a time loop with you with the neverending raking of fire—taking turns playing Victory and Bucentaure.

You turn your back against him, hair swinging as it nearly flicks the tip of his nose. Loki staggers in his step as he watches you trudge through the rocky grounds, hiking up the slope of the crater. Moondust seems to shimmer under the violet hues of the imminent apocalypse as it billows into the air like puffs of smoke with every step of your feet, grazing upon the sand. He trails behind you, scoffing in response.

“I beg your pardon?”

Your hair swings again, angered eyes meeting his own. “You heard what I said. Fuck you. Fuck you for pulling me with you into this space rock. Fuck you for destroying our only way out of this mess.” The ground rumbles as falling meteorites leaving fiery streaks in the sky above cast an illusionary halo around your head, hair frizz untameable as you look down on him like you are some saint, some martyr.

He remembers you from his childhood in Asgard. You were an immaculate being. You still are.

The back of his earlobe itches, like an emotion, buried so deep in his brain, wanting to be set free. He knows you are beautiful. He knows that there’s a chance you would be a martyr with your undying faith and loyalty to the Sacred Timeline. You would die in battle for it.

He knows there’s a place for you in Valhalla.

He hates how intelligent you are. How valiant and habitually good-natured in an unpretentious way—you cast a shadow onto him, presenting his ways as fraudulent and outright evil. He tries so hard to do right but you don’t even have to try.

He hates the way you speak to him as if you know him better than he does. He hates that beautiful soul of yours. He hates how the both of you fall into a natural state of bickering, spitting words of hurt. He doesn’t mean any of them but, he doesn’t know whether you do.

All Loki knows is deny and refute.

He pulls himself out of the crater, watching you walk away with fast strides, almost stomping out of frustration. “Correction. I did not pull you with me onto Lamentis. I didn’t even know where it was going to take us. You had a knife to my throat so, it’s your fault we’re stranded here.”

You ignore him. You seem to be walking aimlessly and away from him rather than with purpose and an intention of a destination. Loki quickly catches up with your pace, stepping in front of you and in your way.

“Are you going to ignore me?”

His question comes off as desperate rather than derogatory to his surprise. Perhaps, experiencing an apocalyptic event tends to affect the mind’s filter. Perhaps, it’s the moon dust. Perhaps, it’s the imminent deafening feeling that Loki might want to be honest for once and wanting to be honest with you.

You abruptly halt in your step as your foot collides with his, wincing as you heave a deep exhale out of frustration. “Would you piss off just for one second!” you spit through gritted teeth. With a flash of daggered eyes to his, you continue trudging through moon rocks, shouldering him as you pass by.

Presently, questions were the only thoughts that filled his mind and were the ones that left his scowled lips. Questions don’t provide answers. They avoid the truth that waits to be freed from the chaos of his brain.

Living up to his true nature of existing as the very embodiment of annoyance in your presence, the one word he questions seemed to have triggered the ticking time bomb in you, resetting it to a shorter countdown until the bomb goes off

“What?”

A simple word. But, the tone makes all the difference. Still, he continues to trail closely behind you. The closeness makes you tick.

You whip your head to him. “What don’t you understand from what I just said? Or would you like me to translate it to language that’s best suited to your magnificence and eliteness?” Your voice is loud as you near him in a threatening manner, waving your hands in the air like he’s some flying pest. “Out of my sight! thou dost infect my eyes, thy majesty!”

If it weren’t for the situation, he would have laughed at how dramatic you were being. Even in anger and hatred, sarcasm still plays an important role in your language and how you express yourself.

He lets you walk away this time but, you don’t stray too far. There’s a rock emerging from the sand, shaped like a slab. You find rest there, sitting by its edge as you watch the city begin to submerge in flames and destruction, accompanied by the screams of its citizens. Death is inevitable but cursed as it could be beautiful.

Moments pass, he watches the back of your still figure. He knows to give you time, to give you space. When ragged breaths have turned to slow ones, you become your true self.

Despite the long-lasting feud between the two of you, there’s a sense of hidden comfort when in each other’s presence. When two people are so often melancholy and lonely, it’s only natural for the two to want to fill the gap that’s been left open from before.

Odin knows you don’t hate each other but only acted as a disguise to the feeling of unrequited love and yearning that remains unknown to the both of you.

Loki finds himself drifting closer to you, lingering by the foot of the stone you sit on. Then, in silence, he watches you shift to the side discreetly, making space for him beside you.

This time, he doesn’t question. He only accepts.

Loki settles beside you, closer than he’d imagined. It’s strange when you’re not wanting to kill him.

Suddenly, your voice cuts through the silence, barely audible with the thunderous crashing of rocks that shower around you. “You know, if we do die here, you’re never going to make it to Valhalla.”

He’s quiet, pursing his lips in thought.

He knows there’s a place for you in Valhalla. Even if it isn’t in battle. You don’t deserve the underworld. The underworld doesn’t deserve you.

“Neither will you.”

You simply hum. “What good is Valhalla...when all I want is Hel?”

There’s a hint of humor in your tone and Loki finds himself staring at your cheek. You’re turned away from him but the despondency in your expression is clear under the bursts of meteorites across the sky as the fractured planet drifts closer to Lamentis.

“Do you really mean that?” You turn to him, brows furrowed. He continues, “Do you really want to go to Hel?”

You shake your head, gaze falling to the ground. “I know I belong there.”

The two fall into silence once more. It isn’t deafening but consoling to two beings attempting to hide the growing fear of the end.

Loki has died before but never this way.

Then, you gently nudge him with your elbow. “Maybe in another timeline, we would have gotten along.”

There’s a smile playing upon your lips. It’s small but it’s there.

Loki smiles at you, too.

“Or if we had more time.”

He takes your hand in his, fingers intertwined with your own. You shut your eyes, trying to memorize the warmth of his touch.

The ground beneath you rumbles once more.

You hold him just a little tighter, breath hitched as the two of you watch the planet descending onto the grounds of Lamentis-1 with the sun casting shadows against the purple hues of the sky.

At that moment in time, you’re just two beings in this universe, finally accepting their fate. Finally, accepting their love.

[ofmythsandmadness]

touch-starved | d.h.

or...the seven times it takes diego hargreeves to realises he’s touch-starved, and the one time he actually acts on it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

SUMMARY: diego x gn!reader. an idiot in love, told entirely from his pov as he walks back on a series of monumental moments in his life. WARNINGS: a tad bit of foul language (bc i can never contain myself, jeez). allusion to sexual acts (nothing explicit, but if you know, you know). flowery garbage writing. probably poor characterization. a weird ending. WORD COUNT: 5.7k NOTES: it’s way too late (early?) for me to be putting this out. but after literally driving myself to tears over this stupid thing, i’m forcing myself to publish it and leave it to the world, for better or for worse. it’s...yeah. i hope it’s alright. x

BUY ME A COFFEE HERE. | CHECK OUT MY OTHER WRITINGS HERE.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

THE FIRST TIME HE REALISED WAS IN THE SUMMER.

“Can I say something weird?”

There is a nervous half-giggle that came after the question, like you aren't quite sure how he’s going to take whatever slipped from your gentle, just parted lips. It hangs much longer than the five words you passed to him and he almost forgets what you asked entirely, so hung up on the breathless fashion your chuckle had come.

But when you blink at him and let your beseeching eyes hover over his, he has to let go of the sound and return to the present.

“Sure,” he says dumbly. “What?”

He loses your eyes then and he finds himself following, eager to see what could have lost your attention so fast. His frown digs heavier as you stare at the table he’s leaned over. There isn’t anything there but his harness scattered across the worn wood and a knife in one hand. He’s been idly fiddling with as some show titters in the background, but his weapon (mal??)practices have never been much interest to you before. So...

Slowly a warm smile comes to cradle your cheeks. It rests as delicate as a crashing wave colliding with the great cliffs you had painted once -- like with everything you did, your smile’s a charging force that transforms you entirely and leaves him in awe that anyone could feel something so strongly. He watches with total enthrallment and for once, he’s not ashamed to feel so.

“You have like, really nice hands.”

You drawl the statement out like it’s some kind of joke. Though, the intense look you so briefly shoot him tells him it's anything but. And suddenly he cannot do anything; the knife falls from his hands and clatters to the table and his fingers tremble under your careful stare, paralysed. 

“I-I-”

“-I know, weird compliment, but,” you chuckle again, low and soft. You shrug. “I was staring at them and realised how nice your hands are.”

“Uh…” he doesn’t know what to do with that information. What does one say to that? Is thank you enough, or is he supposed to just force a laugh and pretend like he is not completely ruined by the way you look at his hands? Compliments are not a usual weapon of choice, but when they come from your lips -- Diego can die right there and go overjoyed.

“Thanks,” he mutters, folding and unfolding his hands on the table. “I...never thought about my hands like that.”

You brighten. In a flash of pastel movement you were pressing close, close, close to him and reaching for a fist. He’s again powerless, forced to just watch you pull his fingers in between your own, softly running gentle pads against his bruised knuckles. The touch is cool but he feels his body combust at the mere swish of skin-to-skin contact and he realises,

maybe he could crave someone’s touch.

“You should,” you grin, exquisite under your apartment’s shitty lighting and the flashes of whatever’s happening on the T.V across the room. “You could like, seriously be a hand model or something. Go-orgeous fingers.”

And maybe, he starts to crave yours.

━

THE SECOND TIME HAPPENS WEEKS LATER. 

He’d fantasized about your touch most of the days between it, but the thoughts had been forced to be fleeting and he had avoided considering the way you looked at him like he could actually hang the moon and stars -- and it only ever caught up to him in the ebbs of night, when he couldn’t sleep and just stared at the ceiling, considering what it would be like to really feel you against his hands and not let you slip away.

He so rarely let the sun touch his skin anymore. It wasn’t intentional to adapt a vampire lifestyle -- but between the shifts that let him keep his dingy ‘home’ and the nights he spends racing around the cursed city, trying to do the right thing (or stick it to his dad, depending on the night and how bleary his head felt), Diego rarely catches himself leaving the gym early than eleven anymore.

A fact that seems to exasperate you, and fuels what you dubbed an intervention. Aka, forcing him to wander around the city just barely kissed by autumn’s chilly embrace. And though he did argue against it (profusely, because he’s still that stubborn sonofabitch), he’s grateful for you still.

“I think we need to make this a regular occurrence,” you sing, tossing a smile over your shoulder. You skip several paces ahead of him as you soak in every bit of sunshine the crisp fall air could offer you. And he flounders and watches as he wonders what it would feel like to have that much energy from merely existing.

“I think I’m gonna have to mandate this. I’ll force you to schedule this into your life, and I’ll take shifts off from work so we can appreciate the afternoon sun while we can. It won’t be long ‘til winter you know.”

He chuckles hesitantly, “the sun’ll still be there in the winter.”

“Sure, but barely. And it’ll be cold then! The sun ain’t nice when it’s cold.”

He laughs again, and you join him. And it’s easy -- because it’s you.

“Diego!”

“Huh?”

You stop then, dropping your hands to your hips and glaring at him. Even from several feet away he can make out the infuriatingly adorable pout that puckers your pretty lips and the way he wishes he could go back in time and learn to paint, so he could capture the curve of your --

“--why are you so slow?!”

“I -- I’m not slow.”

“You are too! You’re dragging your feet like I’m forcing you to go to the dentist or somethin’.” You squint at him as the sun heightens his reach in the great blue sky. “Man, are you that allergic to a good time?”

“Shut up, I’m not that bad.”

The pout gives as easily as honey dripped -- that is to say, he adores the treacly sweet and slow slip from puckered lips to the easy smile you give him. Your entire heart’s behind the look just as it always is. You trot back up the path to him and held your hand out to him, wriggling it in the air.

“What?” he asks, frowning through a slow smile. 

“Take my hand.”

“I…” he hesitates again. “Why?”

“Because you’re slow, and I want to make it to the coffee place before next year. Duh,” you drawl, still shaking your hand like one would to a little kid. “Now, come on!”

You pull and he comes without a fuss, dazed as you bumble on about whatever miraculous happenings go on inside your mind. He hardly hears a thing. Every part of his body is fixated on the soft brush of your thumb against his hand, rubbing soothingly -- he isn’t even sure if you knew you’re aware you’re doing it, but he is. Hell, he can’t feel anything else but that.

Maybe your touch could be a tether.

━

HE HADN’T MEANT FOR THE THIRD TIME. Hadn’t planned to make an event out of it, anyways.

“You’re a fool, Diego. You know that?”

Obviously, he responds silently, grimacing as the cloth presses harder into his cuts. That’s why he did it. Because he is a fool. Honestly, that sums up the majority of the things he does in his life. Or doesn’t do, in the case of you.

Is it bad, if as you scold him, he’s creating a list of even more reasons to love you?

“I mean, one of these days you’re going to come here impaled on like, a pole or something and then -- what am I supposed to do with that?” Your tongue clicks like a disapproving mother’s, but your eyes still dance with childlike mischief as you work. “I am not a nurse.”

“Could’a fooled me, with those hands.”

You glare up at him over your lashes, a sight that made his breath hitch. “Quiet, you.”

Diego does as you said -- but not for any bits or for the joke, only because the way you look at him suddenly made his body tremble with the force of a thousand men and all he wants is to grab your neck and drag you up to meet his lips, finally be rid of the burning sensation in his gut that makes him want to ask the most obscene of--

“--does it hurt?”

He blinks, forcing away the images flashing in his mind so he can focus on the real you again. “Uh -- does what, hurt?”

You take that as a joke, laughing low like his horny idiocy deserved such praise. “This, asshat. Does this,” you press harder with the swab, making him cringe, “hurt?”

“Shit -- yes, it hurts! What’s that for?!”

“Had to make sure you were with me still! Sorry,” you hum, sounding everything but. But your grip softens. “You’re lucky. This could have needed stitches.”

Diego snorts. “It’s not that bad.”

“You look like the fookin’ dino from Jurassic Park felt you up.”

“Not that fookin’ bad,” he mocks back. 

“Your accent is appalling.”

“So’s yours.”

You press harder; when he scowls, you giggle, pleased to have won the battle again. 

The rest comes in silence. You stand between his legs, mopping at his cuts as you are often wont to do when he stumbles into your window. And he tries not to think about the way your weight so casually presses up against his torso as you reach to his temple, parted lips just out of reach. He could do it; he could just reach out and grab your chin, pull you in and kiss you with all the fucking passion that made his stomach roil.

But he doesn’t budge. There is no way you want that and he would never push past that fragile boundary without asking, no matter what the primal part of his mind fantasizes. His eyes fall instead down to his lap, staring at the folds on his pants as your fingers graze across his skin.

“There,” finally comes, along with you stepping away. Your distance leaves a cold chill running down Diego’s spine; he wonders if he asked you to come back, if you would. “Almost done.”

“Almost? What’s left?”

The next few moments move like a movie. The ones he only ever watches with you or with Klaus; the cheesy slow-mo romances, where the two main characters constantly dance around in a will-they-won’t-they that usually drives him nuts. Everything is always so slow in them and he usually hates them -- he did hate them. But when it’s his hands cradled in yours and you are smiling sweet and gentle as a honeybee, hell he’d take every single second of those crap rom-coms, if it leads to that moment more.

You lean in and, holding his hands in your own like an anchor held a boat to shore, press your lips against his temple. The slightest sting from the pressure builds but it falls with the blink of an eye. Your lips are cold, delicate, brushing twice against the cut before pulling away.

“There. Now I’m done.”

Maybe, you’re just some kind of angel.

But then, why are you bothering with him?

━

THE FOURTH HAPPENED SO FAST, he nearly misses it.

You pull him in close, examining his clothes and face for any glaring wounds. When you find nothing but dirt and a couple surface scratches, your worried expression melt into something akin with relief; a shiny-eyed, trembling lip smile that deserves its place in the greatest museums.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you whisper, seemingly untrusting of your vocal cords. You sniffle. “I was - I was so--”

“--I’m okay.” It sounds more like a revelation than a reassurance and he repeats himself twice, just to make sure you understand. His hands still grip tight to your forearms, holding you to him in case you would disappear, too. “I’m okay. Everything’s fine.”

You nod and even as you pull away from his hold, you launch. Your arms lace around his neck and your face instantly finds a place to bury itself, right into his shoulder. Your body shakes; he realises that you’re crying into him, so relieved with him being there.

The embrace is short. Too short. He doesn’t do enough to hold your clinging form, only standing there slightly swaying and just barely grazing your back, He considers it too long and doesn’t act enough even when he wants to beg you to never let go again. And when you pull away, you refuse your tears again, sniffling through a smile and asking if he wants some food. But the embrace remained ingrained in his thoughts like a disease; it polluted everything else until everything was you, just you, holding him and wanting him.

Maybe, he was deserving. Maybe he deserved to be wanted. Was that justification enough?

━

THE FIFTH HE ALMOST DIES.

Not literally that time -- no, he’s done enough of that to you. It’s more of a metaphorical sort, making his heart stop as your fingers just graze against his stubble strewn chin, his breath catching on the lump in his throat as he realises yet again that nothing could be more beautiful than your smile.

Diego is not a formal man, nor had he ever really been. Even at the Academy his uniform was almost always somehow out of place or wrinkled or missing a detail. He hates shirts that buttoned all the way up to his throat and pants that have to be pleated that one specific way for no reason at all. If it isn’t important, he wears whatever is closest to him, or his domino-mask-and-leather getup if he’s ‘working’. Hell, the man isn’t even sure he had ever worn a suit outside of his childhood years and Allison’s wedding.

“You look...different.”

He swings fast around to see you leaning against his doorway. You’re all pink cheeks and cheeky grins. Something about the way you look him up and down makes him suddenly want to hide, slip away so you could not see how stupid he looked in this stupid monkey suit clinging to his arms and thighs like stupid plastic wrap. You probably see him as a circus animal, stuck in some stupid performance outfit and told to juggle fire. 

(Honestly, juggling fire would be worlds easier than doing whatever this was, though.)

Slowly, you step into the room, eyes never leaving him. He gulps.

“You look good, Diego.”

He blinks. That is...unexpected. “Y-yeah?” Damn his voice for giving out on him; it comes out squeaky and prepubescent, sounding every bit of uncertainty he feels. “I-I mean, I--”

“--relax, hot stuff,” you wink and his face fills with heat. “You look great. But, your collar…”

Diego glances down only to scowl at the mess of buttons he left around his neck. “Shit, yeah.”

“Let me?”

But you’re already coming to him, though, hands outstretching and delicately folding themselves across his chest. He wonders if you could feel the way his heart beat like there were a thousand drums locked into his chest, or that you knew you smelled like the gods’ ambrosia, honey -sweet smoke dripping from your velvet form. Are you aware how intoxicating your mere presence is?

“Can I?”

He nods dumbly, not trusting his words.

With careful fingers, you weave the buttons together that have been left undone. You then reach up higher, pressing down his collar. 

You hesitate against him, hands still folded into the sharp white fabric. Slowly, one set of fingers unfurl and lift to barely brush against his jaw. It’s a mere allusion to what it would be to have you cradle his face in your caring palms and it only leaves him craving more. 

Your lips curl up too, coloured as deep as the fabric that clings to your exquisite form. Just the tip of hot pink snakes out of your mouth, pressing slyly to the top lip, riling the hotblood boiling inside him right up to the brim.

“What…” the single syllable comes out strangled and hoarse. You’re strangling the life out of him without even moving a finger. Do you know your power?  “What are...what are you doing?”

In hindsight, that’s probably the stupidest question he could have asked.

You baulk and immediately pushed away from him. The fingers glide from his chest and chin and leave him cold. Gone was the confidence you had offered so easily before; he watches, stunned as your eyes fall to the floor, no longer eager to meet his.

“You look good, Diego.” You smile but that time it doesn’t look real at all. “Have fun tonight.”

“Wait, I--”

--you offer a wave and nothing more. Your figure crosses the room and leaves him alone in between the four walls that seemed to press into him without your comforting presence.

Maybe, you could care for him, too. As he wants you too. Is it selfish to think so?

━

THE SIXTH TIME, HE’S ALMOST ASLEEP.

Honestly, Diego isn’t sure how his head had ended up in your lap, or when his body had melted so effortlessly into your own. It wasn’t the alcohol; two beers isn’t enough to kill all of his conditioned issues or turn him into a total sop. It hadn’t even been intentional, nothing about making room or trying to do anything.

But there you are. Your thighs are his pillows and your hands kiss across his scalp, weaving through his hair like it’s yarn to be woven into something beautiful. Once in a while you pause and he thinks that that’s it, you would force him up -- but then you continue like nothing had happened and he continues to lay like a fish out of water across your legs.

Neither of you had talked about the incident before. It was simply avoidance until you both decide to brush it off and move on, forgetting all about the awkwardness. Or, at least, that’s what you silently promised.

But it’s late. Neither of you are thinking. Or, he isn’t at least, when his head slips from the couch to your thinly clad shoulder. And you hardly react when he relaxes even more, silently gesturing for him to use your thighs as a headrest as the movie neither of you are watching drones on. You make some sort of joke, something stupid and it usually wouldn’t be enough to convince him to act so foolishly. But he is tired, and you are you, and it’s all too easy to give in to you.

So he lays. Your hands in his hair. On your lap. Like a baby incapable of even sitting on his own. He should feel unbelievably stupid, right?

“You’ve got beautiful hair,” you mumble, eyes dragging off the television screen to your lap. He barely catches your soft, smiling gaze before it slips back up, but the memory sticks with him long minutes after. “Wish you’d let me play with it more.”

But he can’t bring himself to hate this moment.

He half-snorts, half-laughs because what a funny statement that is. In his state of lovesick, exhausted delirium, Diego hardly recognises himself telling you that ‘you can play with his hair any time you want’.

“Really?”

“Uh…” he had not meant to say that out loud. “I-I--”

“--thanks, honey.” Your hands linger against his temple before stroking down his wavy locks. Honey. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He pulls off of you after a short while -- not because he wants to, because he’s guilty to take your loving hands for his selfish needs. He claims the bathroom excuse and leaves with his head floating in the clouds. The domestic bliss you offer him wasn’t something he thought he wanted, before -- but every time he leaves your bubble, he finds himself more and more starved for your touch.

He leaves your place high on your smile and still stuck on the way you combed through his hair. Even after pulling away yet again, he’s still happy and actually hopeful.

Maybe, he could actually have this, more than just one random rainy night. Maybe he should try.

━

THE SEVENTH TIME, HE ALMOST KISSES YOU.

Almost, because he, Diego ‘number one himbo’ Hargreeves is a self-labelled idiot who loses all cognitive abilities and brain cells when he lays eyes on you, and fails to be able to use them for all the time you’re around him.

And it’s the moment when he finally fully comes to realise the extent of his overwhelming, absolute adoration for you.

He’s never been so bad with that sort of thing. Before he could throw an easy smile and wink his way into a heart he’d no doubt break the following morning and pull a quick-run attraction like it wasn’t anything. But with you? The idea of even your touch turned him bashful and running for the hills, you know...like an idiot.

It takes you pulling him along every single time for him to react and even then, it’s never enough. You’re always left with a pouting lip and that strange, far-off look in your eyes that tells him he’s screwed it up all over again. Every time you get close he’s too blind to react the right way.

Your head on his shoulder, the world’s at peace. He wants you to stay by his side forever. He’ll hold you as long as you want -- hell to his arms, you’re worth the ache or the crick in his neck from bending the wrong way. He’ll let his body waste away and his mind turn to cobwebs if it means an eternity on your balcony, wind in both of your hair and your hands interlacing between his own.

“This is nice,” you murmur. “Yeah?”

He nods. His chin bumps awkwardly against the crown of your head, but you don’t seem to mind.

“I don’t normally like the quiet. But it’s nice like this. With...with you…” you hesitate on the last syllables and the ‘you’ comes out thick and garbled. But he gets it anyways, and somehow he has the emotional strength to pull you even close to his hulking frame. You’re very close to sliding onto his lap and he’d be lying if the idea to just go all the way doesn’t spring to mind. But he doesn’t move.

“It’s nice, knowing you’re here. Safe, alive...with me.”

Diego smiles into your hair. “It is nice.”

Aaand the ‘most obvious statement of the year’ award goes to him. Yet again. Why do you put up with his thick-headed responses? And why can’t he explain the fuzzy feeling in his throat that he gets from being near you, and the desire to give up everything else just to exist by your side? A simple ‘yeah’ doesn’t cover that and he knows that, he knows he has to tell you the entire adoring truth but --

“I like being around you, Diego. You know that, right?”

If he’s being honest...he can’t really believe that. The idea that someone like you enjoys his company is a farfetched concept. But his head bobs up and down again anyways. 

“I, uh...I like our friendship.”

Did you -- did you just friendzone him?!

Did he really just --

“--but sometimes…” you snort out a derisive laugh, “sometimes I wish we were a bit more. Y’know?”

He shifts his weight on the chair and stares down at you, unsure what to make out of any of it. “I - uh - whatdoyoumean?”

“I just, I think we’re good together.” You move too, so he can finally see the pretty way the moonlight bounces off your irises. You’re smiling, and he can’t help but smile too, hopeful and eager as a puppy would be. “And I want to, just...man, I wasn’t expecting this to be so hard to say.”

Vaguely, Diego hears himself respond with a grunt (it’s meant to be an ‘it’s okay’, but apparently English isn’t his strong suit).

“I just like having you around. A lot, if that’s not obvious. I know I’m, heh, kind of a lot sometimes. And I’m trying not to be so uh, affectionate because I know that’s a lot for some people and I never want to overstep, or--”

“--you’re not,” he says quickly, finally finding his voice after oceans of gaping. “I like you being affectionate. It’s nice.”

Your smile grows. “Okay, that’s good.” You hold his fingers a little closer and he’s on cloud nine, staring at you like you’re the eighth wonder of the modern world. “Because if I’m being completely honest here, I don’t want to stop. I...I like you. Generally, in the sense of, more than just friendship. D’you get what I’m saying here?”

“Uh…”

“I don’t want to read into things too much, but I can’t stop myself from feeling really strongly about you. And I don’t want to go on like this, without telling you I’m like, head over heels for you at this point.” You blink up at him, pleading for him to not let you down as you finish with, “is there any way you feel the same?”

What Diego should have done, and wanted to do, was to tell her exactly how he felt, and pull her to him and pull the most cheesy, most cliche Hollywood moment in all the world. He’d finally get the girl in the moonlight as the stars sing above him and the world sleeps below and it would be perfect.

What Diego actually does, is leave.

Cold, and alone, with no hand to hold and no head resting on his shoulder. He leaves you bewildered and probably pissed off and he leaves with no explanation at all -- just a garbled sentence or two that adds up to nothing. He drops his shattered heart at the door and wanders  home shivering and hopeless, knowing he has just fucked it all up.

As he stares at the sidewalk and plods down the street like a lonely, hard down soul, Diego wonders if he’s deserving of your touch. If he was allowed to open up and feel your affection so strongly as you give it. He wants to like you would probably never believe. He wants to hold you and he doesn’t want to let go again. He’s starved for your touch and he’d trade the sun and stars to keep you by his side, no matter the costs.

But you’re worth more than him. Shouldn’t you offer your heart to a better, kinder man? To someone who knows how to hold you properly, and offer his touch right back? Not someone who shivers away or rejects your kindness like a parasite. But someone brave enough to feed you with all the adoration you’re worthy of. Shouldn’t he be who you seek?

Maybe, Diego muses, the universe is wrong, and the mistress is nothing but a cruel meddler too eager to break his heart.

But maybe, it’s his own fault, and she’s not cruel at all.

His pace quickens a beat, and he suddenly knows what he has to do.

━ 

DIEGO’S LIKE NINETY-NINE PERCENT CERTAIN THAT NO ONE, no one living soul, had ever said that the eighth time was the charm.

But if he had to be the first, hell he’d ring that bell a thousand times if it got him where he had to be.

He’s running like a madman. And he’s not drunk, even if at least five people have grumbled that about him -- no he’s as sober as the day he was forced into the world. He’s made a thirty-minute walk of hell into somehow a twelve-minute dash through the cold streets of their shitty city and he feels like a god, if gods were desperate sonofabitches who never knew how to acknowledge their feelings until it’s too late.

He takes the stairs, too high on adrenaline to wait for the elevator. He gasps and huffs and pants his way up but he makes it and keels down the hall to your door, falling against it with all his weight. It’s a foolish move but in his defense...his legs are about to give out, and all the energy he’s devoted to this half-baked, foolish, love-drunk plan is very quickly running out.

He pounds against the door weakly. “Hello? Hello? I--” 

and then he literally crashes into your apartment.

You both tumble to the floor with a loud thud-thump and he’s so glad you have thick carpeting because he could have probably split your skull right open with the fall. He’s smart enough to roll, so he cushions your upper body with his, but you still groan as you make contact with the floor. His entire bone structure quakes at the feeling of ground hitting him and even with nary a breath in his throat, immediate guilt floods his system.

He falls back and silently screams, wishing he had more tact than this.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I’m...I’m so sorry,” he offers with a smile. He quickly props himself up over your body and tries to look as sorry as he truly feels, though it’s hard as his breath still won’t come and he’s still absolutely exhausted from running all this way.

Why did he do all this again?

Oh, yeah.

“I-I love you,” he spurts, followed by him rolling off and promptly falling into a coughing/choking/hacking fit.

You lay beside him, silent and stunned. He can’t see you as he coughs but his mind tries to put the pieces together, and none of it looks good. You’re probably annoyed, and mad that he’s even there so late and after what happened before, and you’re probably tired, and maybe sad, or hurt, or uncomfortable because you just jumped from friends to him admitting he loves you and --

“-did you seriously run all this way and body me, just to tell me that?!” 

He pulls himself together long enough to breathe and then turn so he can stare at you. You’re still beside him, body still pressed against the floor (possibly broken after having a much larger man knock you over, who knows) and you’re…

“You’re smiling,” he responds, like it’s the most shocking thing in the world. “You’re - why-”

“Last time I saw you, you were running out of my place like your ass was on fire. And now you come here, knock me on my ass, and tell me you love me?! Diego...uh...wow.”

Diego just stares back at her. He’s still struggling to breathe and if he’s being honest, he’s not sure if he can function after any of this. He just wasted so much of his courage (something he’s never been good at keeping stock of) on just getting here, how is he supposed to collect himself and head out the door with any sense of dignity? Or answer you in any way, shape or form? How is he supposed to even move when you’re looking at him like that?

Wait, you’re...you’re looking at him like that. Smiling, doe-eyed, honey-sweet and beautiful even after being violently collided with and forced to your shitty carpet…

“I love you,” he breaths, soft but still sure. He grins back at you and he feels like an idiot but he holds strong. “And I’m really sorry about before. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m just, all this stuff is stuff I’ve never done before, and I--”

And without another word or even the chance to think, your lips are on his.

Well, they probably were meant to be. What really happens is with a grunt and a swift push, you shift over to him and move to kiss him, only you’re both still smiling and absolute idiots who then just bang teeth against teeth. And you’re left groaning and keeling back, both gripping your mouths while still smiling and,

Ohmygodthisisamessbutohmygodishesohappyandinlovewithyou.

“I’m so sorry,” you groan, muffled behind your hand.

“Me too -- for knocking you over, too!”

“Yeah, that’s gonna leave a bruise.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you chuckle, and lift up again. You hover above him. His nose just barely brushes against yours and he’s straight back into heaven again, even as the embarrassment floods and his teeth ache. “I mean, I would have preferred a bit more warning, but...at least you don’t hate me.”

Diego grins and lifts his hand to push a tendril of hair behind your ear. “I could never hate you.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Mm-hmm. I’m glad you don’t hate me.”

“Please,” you roll your eyes and shove at his chest. His heart beats even faster. “Like I could ever hate you.”

He lifts his head, trying to pull himself up to meet your lips, but you dart away just enough so he can’t. “Can - can we try this again?”

“Mm…” you pretend to consider his request like one would a business proposal. Your thighs tighten their grip around his stomach and a part of him just wants to pull you in and act as his heart pleads. But, given the last time he did that...and the last time you did...he’ll take this slow.

Instead of answering, you lean down and press your lips to his. It’s gentle and leisurely, but he takes every motion in stride. You’re everything he expected and more. Soft petals of reddened flesh against his, your hips just barely grazing against his own, making him want to pull you into his body and never let you leave his side. He’s jubilant and exhilarated and he almost laughs like a baby as your tongue swipes against his bottom lip.

“If it isn’t obvious,” you breathe as you pull away, “from the way I let you tackle me to my floor,”

“I’m really sorry about that,”

You pull his hand up and intertwine your fingers, shaking your ‘head’ no. “I love your touch-starved ass too, Diego.”

“Good, cause this would have been--”

“--no more talking, chatterbox. Just kiss me and shut up.”

And he lets go of the maybes, and just loves you.

SECOND A/N...this ending is just ackwa!?!hiwogh. very annoyed with how it went, but if you know me, you know i suck at conclusions in every sense of the world and i also always leave them to the very last minute, meaning i’m typing this note as i read over the ending and hate it even more. and i’m sorry for the vague messiness of this! I had an idea, failed to deliver it the way i wanted, and a cool thought turned into a half-baked fic. thank you to those who read this, sorry’s also extended your ways because i know this isn’t fantastic. lmao.

- xx 

[thebiscuiteternal]

This was originally a twitter thread and I told myself I wasn’t gonna clean it up and post it until after I finished the next chapter of Cage, but we all know I have the impulse control of a hamster, SO.

“All Your Sins On Show” Murder Plots, Violent Death, Grief, Talking to the Dead, Literally, Creating Your Own Personification of Guilt, Open Ending, Mixed Adaptations, Second-Person POV

Ao3 Link if you prefer.

__________

It comes down to this: Your father wants the Nie out of his hair by any means necessary.

No, no, that's not right. He specifically wants the Nie heir dead.

"Anyone can see the useless little bitch is their only weak spot. Kill him and they all crumble, especially that oaf Chifeng-zun," he says, then gives you the knife-edge smile he reserves for when he knows you'll give him anything for a more authentic one. "Can you get it done, or do I need to find someone more reliable?"

And you ignore the discomfort worming through your insides, smile back, and bow.

It comes down to this: The plan doesn’t take very many parts to set into motion. The smaller sects are still struggling after the decimation the Wens dealt to the cultivation world. It's easy enough to find a disciple desperate for more than his leader is paying.

It's even easier to goad Nie Mingjue into pushing his brother to join a ‘simple’ training-level night hunt, since Nie Huaisang has been avoiding using his saber yet again.

It goes like this: At your signal, the bribed disciple 'panics' and shoves Nie Huaisang into the path of a rampaging cursed beast that he has no chance of winning against, and then you make sure your turncoat doesn't escape either.

In the chaos, no one notices how seriously Nie Huaisang has been injured until the monster falls and someone realizes he never got  back to his feet.

Horrified Nie disciples crowd around, flooding his body with spiritual energy to try and save his life, but between his cracked open ribcage and bitten throat, anyone with eyes can see it's a lost cause.

Nie Huaisang dies choking on his own blood, and all anyone can hope is that the shock of the first blow left him too numb to suffer.

It goes like this: The inhuman howl of anguish Nie Mingjue makes when heartbroken disciples hand him his brother’s ruined body is everything your father has likely been hoping for.

Only then, watching him fall to his knees, do you remember that their father came home in similar condition after being set up by a friend, and your stomach knots so tightly you nearly throw up right there in the courtyard.

Only then, looking at the small figure cradled in the sobbing man's arms, death white save for where he is covered in rust red, does it hit you that for the first time, you have killed someone who never did anything to harm you.

Who never did anything to deserve it.

Who was only in the way of what your father wanted.

You'd been prepared to fake tears.

You don't have to.

~"Da-ge?"~

It goes like this: The voice, confused and nervous and as wispy as if being carried by wind, makes ice form around your spine.

Because it belongs to the body lying before the three of you.

Your hands clench on your knees as you brace yourself and glance to your right, but neither of your sworn brothers seem to have heard the plaintive call. Lan Xichen has been in meditation since he arrived to join you, the furrow between his eyebrows and the unnatural pallor of his skin the only signs of his sorrow, and Nie Mingjue has long exhausted himself into silence, staring with empty eyes at the coffin.

~"Da-ge! Come on, this isn't funny!"~

The ice spreads into your blood when you see him.

Nie Huaisang pulls and shoves at his older brother, every bit the child upset by an adult ignoring them when they’re used to getting a reaction.

Except Nie Huaisang is also in the coffin, and unlike that one, this one still bears all the ruinous injuries that ended his life at all of twenty-three.

~"I'm sorry about the argument,"~ he pleads, his demeanor growing more desperate and despondent with every moment Nie Mingjue doesn't respond. ~"I'll go on the hunt, just talk to me! Da-ge!"~

Your breath locks in your chest, surrounded by frost.

He doesn't know.

You swallow hard, forcing down the mixture of bile and hysterical laughter that threatens to bubble out of your throat.

Because you are kneeling in a tomb with the body of someone whose death you set up, and he is also right there next to you, begging his mourning brother to acknowledge him because he can’t see that he’s dead.

Who wouldn’t laugh, faced with that kind of absurdity?

"A-Sang."

The name falls from your mouth so quietly that your sworn brothers don't even twitch, but Nie Huaisang straightens like a startled deer.

There are bloody tears steadily trickling down his cheeks, but it's the hope that floods eyes clouded over by death that makes you feel lightheaded. ~"San-ge? San-ge! Tell him I'm sorry, he’ll listen to you!"~

And it's because Nie Mingjue listened to you, despite you having given him so many reasons not to do so anymore, that Nie Huaisang's ghost is begging for your help now, rather than his whole self.

Hands covered in still dripping blood reach for you beseechingly, and that's the last thing you remember before the world goes black.

It goes like this: You wake up in the healers' ward, Lan Xichen hovering worriedly by your bed. "Liu Feng says your qi is disturbed," he says, gentle as always.

You involuntarily glance at the figure by his side, miserably pulling at his sleeve in an attempt to be noticed.

"Too many late nights," you say. "Nothing more."

For once you want him not to believe you, to push for a better explanation than that, but he simply nods. "I'll let the healers know you're up," he says.

And then it's just you and... him .

~"San-ge, why is everyone else acting like I'm not here?"~ he asks, small and broken and unaware of the blood ceaselessly dripping from his mouth and throat and chest to pool around his feet. ~"Even Er-ge won’t speak to me! I know Da-ge and I haven't been getting along, but have I really been that much of a brat?"~

"No..." you say, barely managing to get enough air in your lungs to expel the word. "That's not it. A-Sang-"

'I killed you. You loved me and I killed you because you weren't the one I wanted to be loved by.'

"A-Sang... you went on the hunt you and your brother argued about. There... there was an accident."

The slow dawn of understanding in his expression is horrible to watch.

Worse is watching him break down sobbing.

It goes like this: A lost and dazed Nie Huaisang lingers next to you during the funeral, icy fingers clutching your sleeve, and you can't help but wonder if he can see or experience it at all when Nie Mingjue burns the joss for him, or if he sees only a vacant courtyard.

He only leaves you twice when it's over, and each time he returns to you a little more heartbroken by his continued failure to make contact with his brother.

~"San-ge... San-ge, what will I do?"~ he asks quietly, head bowed and kneeling in the ever-present pool of blood that forms wherever he stops long enough. ~"If I can't make him see me, what will I do? What will happen to me?"~

"I don't know," you say, though you have an inkling.

Clearly the circumstances have bound him to you. When you leave, would he follow? Would he linger? Would he disappear? Would he have a choice in the matter either way?

How the hell did this happen? Surely he hadn't done anything to warrant such a cruel punishment from the heavens, so is it a punishment for you? Or is there a simpler answer, something to do with the specific monster that killed him?

But that... you will look into the matter later, when you have built back up the necessary mental fortitude for what you might find.

For now, it ends like this: Seeking the only comfort available to him, he curls at your side to rest his head against your knee.

It’s a familiar seating position for the two of you, old and comfortable from the days where he would insist on sleeping next to you while you finished late reports.

Except now he is dead and instead of gentle warmth, there is a cold that shocks through you at the point of contact between you and it’s sharp and bitter and spears all the way into your bones.

You bite back a gasp of pain, then collect yourself and reach down to run your fingers through blood-slick hair.  You force yourself to ignore the sensation of frostbite in your fingertips and how each stroke stains your hand a darker red.

Because you deserve it.

Because he needs you.

Because no one else will see.

[decayandfanfics]

The great book of sayings

PAIRINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x FemReader

SUMMARY: He looks at you, his scarlet eyes fixed on yours, burning a hole through your head, every bit the predator he is, but you are as tough as it gets, so, against your better judgment and any well-founded logic, you answer his silent threat, the animalistic look he gives you with nothing less than a fearless smirk, irises burrowing into his pupils.A clever girl. He thinks, finally labeling you inside his head, cursing himself in the very moment he allows his brain to think of you as more than an asset. He is sure (he knows himself enough to know) he’ll think of this moment many times from now on.A clever pretty girl.

Reader is a typical college student until she gets herself tangled with the league of villains.

WARNINGS: Unhealthy/complicated relationships, violence, Tomura being Tomura, mentions of murder, heroes’ abuse of power.

A/N: I’m trying so hard to write crusty boy here really in character. At least after AfO is taken. Any misspelled words, english is not my native language so i’m trying Helen.

As always, let me know what you think!

________________________________________________

Chapter 12 / Chapter 13

Any port in a storm

Tomura knows a bastard when he sees one, and Chisaki Kai looks like someone who could stab his own mother just to prove a point.

And he’s not only a bastard, but he’s also very full of it. The way Chisaki talks like he knows better than anyone else, questioning Tomura and calling him out on his previous failures, as if he knew anything about dealing with pro heroes and a bunch of overpowered children ruining your plans.

Tomura knows where he’d failed and he learned from it, but that doesn’t mean he’ll have to waste his time hearing this asshole lecture him about leadership and planning. After all, Chisaki Kai is nothing but a low thug that works for money or whatever the fuck someone like him cares for. The league, on the other hand, has bigger matters to attend.

He sure like the sound of his own voice. Tomura thinks, narrowing his eyes when Overhaul begins to babble about leadership and pawns like they are nothing else than mere meat at his disposition, and not people with interests and wants.

It doesn’t take long before shit goes down. Magne’s remains puring over them like rain because the bastard makes her explode like a piñata with just a single touch.

Yes, Tomura also knows a deadly touch when he sees one, and Overhaul’s looks ridiculously overpowered.

“Compress, wait-!” Tomura shouts, but Chisaki is faster and before they understand what’s happening, Compress quirk goes off and Overhaul blows Atsuhiro’s arm with a simple touch and the fucker is so damn coward that the moment Tomura lounges towards him, he just orders one of his pitiful pawns to act as a fucking shield and die in his place.

The yakuza has the nerve to call himself the next leader and Tomura is almost impressed by the audacity.

“Now I get it. You should have just started with this, saved us all some time.” Tomura spits making a monumental effort to keep his cool for his sake and the sake of the league.

“Where are they come from?! We weren’t followed, I swear!”

“One of them probably has a tracking quirk.” He’s also trying his utter best to not smack Twice’s masked head for being so damn naïve.

“We’ll cool our heads and try again later. I ow your side an arm.”

“Bastard! I’ll eviscerate you!” Twice barks at his side, holding Compress against his chest.

“Tomura-kun. Let me cut him. Real quick.” Toga ask, pulling out her knife.

“No.”

“it’s my responsibility!” screams Twice.

“No.”

“I don’t wanna rush you, but the sooner we talk the better.” Think things over carefully. Consider how your organization should be run, then when you’ve calm down, call me.” Overhaul speaks like he didn’t just killed Magne, comparing her with one of his ridiculous pawns and Tomura hates him, truly. It’s not like when he says he hates society and heroes, no. This is more personal. He hates Chisaki Kai the same way you hate your childhood bully, the same way you hate someone because you had the misfortune of knowing them.

“They’re gonna pay for this. Why can’t I go after them?!”

“Now thinking, we need to get Atsuhiro-san to a doc. “

“Right.”

“That wouldn’t work…damn that hurts” Atsuhiro whispers almost unconscious.

“Maybe we do have time to make them bleed.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Tomura-kun!”

“Another time.” He orders, watching as overhaul and his band of assholes disappear into the night “You’ll pay for what you’ve done today.” He swears already thinking in a million ways he could make him regret this.

“Shigaraki! We need to see the doctor! Atsuhiro is bleeding out!”

Ah, doctor Ujiko really found and excellent time to go missing, didn’t he? Now without his sensei and the hideout completely wrecked by the heroes, he’s between kidnapping some doctor or finding some abandoned hospital and pray there is some supplies that could work. But kidnapping someone would take time and efforts and the nearest abandoned hospital is forty minutes away and Compress doesn’t have so much time.

Ah, the perks of being a villain.

“Tomura-kun! What do we do!?”

He clenches his fists until his knuckles go numb, his mind rushing, thinking what to do besides the obvious, trying his best to ignore that option.  

“We need to take him now!”

Tomura rolls his eyes and suck his teeth hating his life because this is the last thing he thought he would be doing when he woke up that morning, something withing him twisting painfully between excited and done with this awful feeling he can’t rid off.

“Tomura-Kun! What do we do?!” Toga presses again, panicking because Compress is getting paler and paler.

He groans kicking some rock completely fed up. Why couldn’t Atsuhiro just stay sit there when he told him to wait? Now the itch gets insufferable out of nowhere and Tomura scratch his neck raw, snarling under the hand that covers his face. He doesn’t want to go there, but Twice needs help to carry Atsuhiro now that the man just fainted, and he can’t do copies of himself, so he’ll need someone else. It could be Toga, but Tomura hardly thinks she’s going to be helpful with that tiny body of hers. Besides, they’ll need someone who can clear out the streets before rushing out, so, he’ll have to go anyways.

Tomura sighs defeated, this isn’t about him, so he decides to ignore the knot in his stomach and the quick drumming of his heart against his ribs, preparing for the imminent headache before barking the orders.

“Follow me.”

______________

 A loud bang on your door wakes you suddenly.

You observe your room, remembering that you were studying before falling asleep over your desk after a whole day of paper reading and a pack of oreo’s for dinner. Your laptop screen flashes 00:23 am, so you’ve been sleeping for hardly an hour.

Another bang and this time the sound of someone trying to enter your apartment at midnight shoots your adrenaline levels to the top.

“Big sister! Please!” Toga’s voice sounds desperate from the other side of the door turning your fear in worry, so without thinking, your feet tap quickly through the flat to just opening it before some neighbor sees her, but your mouth falls open the moment Toga rushes into your apartment with Twice and Shigaraki behind her, carrying a half-conscious Compress.

In a second that feels like hours, your eyes travel quickly between all three men, to stop on the red ones that bore into you, sending shivers through your spine as you heart do a flip inside your cage because your infatuation with the villain is right there, in the same place he left it last time he touched you.

“What the…” Your voice gets stuck in your throat when you notice that Compress bloodied wound is in fact him missing an arm.

“Shit. Lay him down on the table” You order already running across your flat looking for a hairband. “Take his shirt off, Toga, bring me some towels.” You rush to your bathroom to wash your hands quickly, and Shigaraki follows you without a word, clutching at your side looking for the first aid kit your keep under the sink.

“Tell me what happened.”

“A Yakuza bastard blew his arm of with his quirk.” He spits carrying the kit to the kitchen. “He shoot him something and his quirk went off.”

“You think it’s some kind of drug?”

“Probably.”

“Crap. It could be dangerous if I don’t know the effects.”  

You run behind him, taking some latex gloves from the kit before approaching your patient. Atsuhiro breathes heavily over your kitchen table, his legs dangling from the edge as he bleeds all over the floor.

Your quirk activates in full force the moment you get close to him.

“Hello, Mr. Compress.” You talk to him trying to calm him the same way you would talk to a child patient as you remove the poor bandage that wraps the remains of his left arm. “Long time no see.”

“Lovely to see you, dear.” He whines with his hand holding the gory pieces of meat that still dangles from his shoulder, a chonk of his broken bone horribly exposed. “It hurts a lot, you know?”

You wince at the sight but straighten yourself to do your job and let your hands hover over his wound, numbing his nerves, keeping his blood from spilling out because he’s already at the brim of drying out.

“I know, but it’s okay now, Compress. I’ll take care from here. Now…sleep…” you lull him with a smile, relaxing him quietly, slowing his heart rate to make him pass out.

“Is he..?” Twice ask watching with trembling voice.

“he’s unconscious now. I can stop the bleeding with my quirk for now, but I’ll need to…sew this…. somehow.”

“Oh! Big sister! Your quirk is amazing to cure people!” Toga says joyfully, leaving the towels close to you.

“Himiko-chan. I need you to wash your hands very carefully. I’ll need some assistance.”

“Okay! I’ll be back.”

You begin to clean the wound, retiring the little fragmenst of bone from between the exposed muscle with some tweezers.

“How bad.” Shigaraki is behind you, towering over your shoulder and you can feel his warmth on your cheek, as he winces watching the mess over the table.

“His arm is destroyed. I need to cut a little of bone, it’s too jagged to just close this, it could lead to an infection. Only after that I’ll be able to rearrange this mess.”  

“What do you need.”

You look at him worried. He’s covered in blood and for a moment you panic thinking that maybe he’s injured too.

“A-Are you al right?”

The question comes out as desperate product of your impossible nerves from having him so nearby. It caught him by surprise from the way his jaw clenches before answering.

“…I’m fine. What else do you need.”

Relief washes over you, so you return your eyes to the man over your kitchen table.

“I…my dad had a garden saw in the closet. Disinfect it the best you can. This is going to be nasty.”

___________

 When she’s finally done, it’s already 3 am.

Compress lays over the couch, finally sleeping after some gruesome scalpel work that lefts her panting from her quirk overuse, siting in the floor with her back against the front door.  

A thick trace of blood drifts down her nose, but she’s too tired to even care, so she just let her head rest on the cold wood.

Silence and shadows fill the apartment. The lights are off so Atsuhiro can sleep, but the lights of the street are enough to see inside the flat. In her room, twice and toga share the bed, already sleeping after helping with the cleaning. Her kitchen looks spotless under the moonlight, none could guess she just operated someone over the table with a gardening saw.

“Are you sure you are okay?” She asks with hooded eyes, her own conscience drifting slowly.

“…I told you I’m fine.”

Tomura watches her, leaning against the wall in front of her. She’s grown thinner and paler than the last time he stood in her home. Her bloodied clothing only accentuating her lack of color and the dark bags that rest under her sleepy eyes.

She stares back, neither of them wanting to look away, not when the three steps gap between them extends so wide and deep that it hurts. The notion of being face to face again stirs quietly inside of him and all his anger and dread goes silent now she’s there at the reach of his hand, and Tomura understand that he doesn’t know how to feel now.

Her stomach growls of hunger and her eyes open in embarrassment and surprise.

“Stop staring at me.” She mumbles cleaning her face with the back of her sleeve, getting up to walk over her kitchen.

“You were staring first.” He mumbles annoyed “whatever…” Before he can even walk to the door, she stops him dead on his tracks.

“You can stay…if you want.”

Tomura looks at her while she prepares a sandwich, trying to avoid his gaze at all costs to no avail. Her hand trembles as she tries to put some butter on her bread, giving away her internal turmoil, because as him, she doesn’t know how to feel about this sudden intrusion in her life. Again.

Well, at least he’s not he only one who feels awkward.

She laughs halfheartedly out of the blue.

“What’s so funny?” he asks looking at the wall, his voice mellow because he doesn’t have the energy to quarrel with her now. Not after everything that happen.

“It’s just…I swore I was going to choke you with my own hands next time I saw you.” She cannot stop the laughing.

He doesn’t know what to do with that statement, finding difficult to keep his distant mask now she’s trying to sound playful. He can feel his anger and awkwardness dissolving into something more bearable so he just smirks amused.

“Bare hands, huh? no quirk involved?”

“Yep. Acapella”

“And how is that working for you?” he asks, gravitating closer to her, standing at her side, very aware of the height difference between them as he leans to see her face better.

“Oh, fuck off.” She smiles.

“Ladies first.” He cannot contain the little smile that blossom in his face.  

Tomura feels his shoulders relaxing softly now. He falls in the ease of her company, the roaring turmoil he’s been feeding all these past weeks, going silent now that she’s finally close, smiling tired and lightheartedly.

It was this, and he almost forgot about it. It was the soft wittiness, the clever jokes and back and forth. He liked to talk to her because it was like playing a game, but somehow, he forgot between his bitterness and rage.

“Sandwich?” She asks, handling him half oh her own.

“…Thanks.”

They eat in silence. Atsuhiro’s breathing is the only sound in the house.

Tomura is tired, his eyelids weight heavy over his eyes, but this moment is enough to keep him awake, so in exchange he memorizes the smell of her home, her presence filling him softly and gently, calming the rage and the fury he’s been feeling over a month in a rare peaceful moment that feels dangerously too much like finally coming home.

What a stupid thought to think he could get rid of this sweet softness, the only one he’s ever felt. A foolish desire made of spite and bitterness in a place that can only be filled with their silent bond.

He feels the gap closing slowly, luring him to stay for the night. He should…he could...maybe this…

“I’ve missed you.” She whispers suddenly without looking at him, her eyes fixed in the wall in front of them.

Time stops and he whips his head so fast he could hear something crackling in his neck.

He definitely didn’t though about this when he woke up that morning.

“Like wise.” He raps swallowing hard, thinking about all the things his done in a month, realizing there was not a single minute of the day in which he did not think of her.

He’s truly smitten, isn’t he?  

“I’m sorry about what I said…i…I got nervous. I thought you would get mad, I just made it worse.”

“Why would you think that, huh? I thought I was pretty obvious.” He says, hiding his hands in his coat before changing his weight to the other leg.  

“Because you are a big bad villain, aren’t you? and I’m just…me.”

“Just you” he snorts “you managed to terrorize one of the most dangerous villains without even touching him. Just you is fine enough to deal with anyone. Even big bad villains.”

She smiles shyly.

“Shigar-“

“Tomura.” He interrupts, finally looking at her.

She looks beautiful under the pale light; the shadows of the night drawing angles and shapes on her face.

“Tomura.” She states, meeting his gaze and he delights in the way his name falls from her lips like a spell and less like a curse. She looks at him decided, certainty written all over her face and he knows she’s about to do something reckless. “I really like you.”

Tomura has learned his lesson. As he always does, so he absorbs her words and weighs them carefully inside his chest.

“A horrible decision, really.” He mocks back with a grin, closing the gap between them until he has her trapped between him and the kitchen counter. “Your parents never told you about big bad villains?” this time he asks close enough for her smell to fill his personal space as he gives her a hungry look, licking his lips.

“Oh, Fuck you.” She sighs laughing quietly.

“I hope you do.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Are you going to keep talking back or are you going to kiss me already?” She whispers feeling his warm breath against her lips.

He stops entranced with the way her eyes reflect the streetlights from the outside. He’ll think of her like this frozen in time and undercover darkness, just a silver string of light between the shadows of her home and his life.

Tomura kisses her hungry and desperate. His jagged lips bruising against her mouth, invading her, eager to feel her closer, but is not enough. Him yanking her against his chest, four fingers gripping tight over her wrist as his right arm encircle her waist is not enough. Feeling her hands clutching at his shirt pulling him is not enough. Sensing the motion of her rising cage as she began to suffocate is not enough.  

No, nothing is enough when he wants to split her chest open to hide inside her ribs, filling her with this feeling that’s been smothering him for too long.

He’s overwhelmed by this unforgiving desire that goes beyond anything physical. Is about the terrifying nature of the world that surrounds him, where she’s the only hideout that could contain his horror and everything that scares him about himself.

Like sensing his despair, she moves her hands to his face, caressing his jaw enamored with the shape of his face, the texture of his skin and the soft locks of white hair that brush over her fingers every time he tilts his head to kiss her deeper and deeper.

A low rumble fills his chest as she opens her mouth fully to him, giving him access to her warmth for him to gorge on her taste, terrifyingly close and needy.

She breaks contact searching for air, but he moves ever so little.

“The things I’ll do with that bickering mouth of yours” He whispers before biting her low lip, giving her a ravenous look.

“Like wise.”

He considers to just shove her against the wall and take her right there over the dishwasher, finally sinking his teeth on her skin, buried deeply in her; but since she was bleeding not long ago, tired and in desperate need of sleep, he keeps it gentle. They are both tired. Tired from the fight, tired from the operation, tired of this game of cat and mouse they’ve been playing for two months, so he shoves his animal instincts under the rug and treats the situation the same way he holds things carefully with his fingers.

Just this one time he promises, knowing he will go absolutely feral on her as soon as he has the chance. So, he just leans over and kisses her gently…surprised by his own tenderness and the warmth that fills him, something akin to happiness and peace.

Tomura nuzzles against her cheek before resting his face on her shoulder, the awful longing that’s been eating him alive finally shut down.

“Come.” She calls him softly, a ghost of a kiss burning over his lips before she tugs him by the hem of his coat, leading him to the spare room.

He follows her quietly, taking off his sneakers and coat before getting inside the little bed, wrapping his arms tightly around her, fists safely closed at her back.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” She asks merely a whisper, her lips delicately brushing his own.

His forehead rest against hers, her warmth inviting him to close his eyes and rest, lulling him silently into sleep.

“…yes.” He whispers as he drifts away, feeling the light touch of her lips kissing the scar over his mouth.

“Good.”

Chapter 14

[mihidecet]

SBI d&d AU: Wilbur

So ... Here it is! I haven't published anything of mine here for a long time, and especially no fanfictions, so I really do hope you like this!

A special thank you to @whatimevendoinhere without whom this AU would have never existed!! They've been drawing references, expressions and a lovely campfire scene for this au, go check them out!!!

One doesn't get far being an adventurer without being a light sleeper, especially when you're travelling alone. 

For Wilbur, it is a blessing and a curse. It means he's able to survive multiple attempts on his life - he's not to blame for all of them, it's just that sometimes he writes songs about people, and sometimes he improvises, and sometimes he sings before he thinks. 

It also means, unfortunately for him, that it takes him a while to get used to travelling with other people. He loves everything about it, from the security to the companionship, but he can't for the life of him get a good night of uninterrupted sleep: whether it's Phil stoking the dying embers of their campfire, or Techno cleaning his throwing knives ... Heavens above, even Tommy mumbling to himself as he mends his own cape after getting almost-stabbed for the fourth time this week keeps him awake until exhaustion takes over. 

But this night, it's not the gentle humming of an elven song, or the rhythmic *schling* of a whetstone on a sword, that wakes him up: everything's quiet, then he feels something fly in the air next to him and land with a dull thud in the ground. 

Will's eyes are immediately open, hand flying to the small knife he keeps under his own pillow - just to be sure, just to be extra safe - and he rolls to the side. 

He thanks his darkvision, because it's still the middle of the night: right next to where his head was there's a knife, stuck in the ground and glinting in the moonlight. 

Wilbur's mouth opens to alert the others, but his call dies in his throat as he notices a lone figure sitting against the tree. 

Somebody just threw a knife at his head, and Technoblade, notorious thief, assassin and all around badass adventurer, is just ... sitting there. His eyes are open, Wilbur can see it clearly, and he stares at him for a moment before turning his head towards the rest of the group. He seems to be fiddling with something - for now, Wilbur only knows that Techno likes keeping his hands busy, and is apparently unable to keep still; give or take a couple of months of travelling together, he'll have learnt that Techno fidgets when he's nervous, and he's always nervous around new people. 

Techno turns back around, and gives a meaningful look to the knife still stuck in the ground. 

Wilbur sighs. He's awake now, thanks to the adrenaline of an expected attack, so he grabs the knife and wrenches it out, meaning to throw it back to the noisy assassin that decided to wake him up in the middle of the night for ... apparently no reason? 

But that night there's a gentle breeze blowing, so the moment the knife leaves the ground, whatever it was keeping in place starts flying away - it's only thanks to Wilbur's excellent reflexes that he manages to grab it. 

For a moment, he thinks he's dreaming. Mostly because he wishes he was, but also because he's currently holding one of Technoblade's throwing knives in one hand, and a bracelet in the other. 

He blinks. 

The bracelet is still there. 

He looks up, and manages to catch Techno quickly turning his head away from him, as if he hadn't been staring at him the whole time.

Wilbur *really* wants to sleep. 

The bracelet in his hand is hand made. Not because it's badly made, but because there are daisies woven between the yarn and cotton strings, and if he turns his head to the left he can see a path of those same light blue daisies - now slightly smaller than before. 

Now, Wilbur is not unused to having small trinkets. He has a bad habit of stealing small things to remind himself of where he's been, where he's played, things he's done. But this is definitely unusual. 

What is this supposed to mean? Is it to thank him for saving his ass earlier that morning, when Techno got too cocky and got himself shot so Wilbur had to jump from his vantage point to bring him back to life? Or is it because the bard had said he needed something to remind himself of their win against the drake that had been plaguing the surrounding forest?

Wilbur is too tired to think about it. 

"Cheers, Techno. Thanks." He says, voice slurring just a bit as he gives the thief a two fingered salute. Techno nods back silently, and Wilbur lets himself fall back onto his bed - being careful not to stab his pillow with his horns - and tries to fall asleep again. 

Wait. 

Wilbur's eyes open suddenly as his brain rather kindly decides to bring forth a memory of his first meeting with Techno. 

Back when it was just him and Phil, walking from town to town, looking for easy coin. They had been looking for a tavern in the middle of the night, because Phil had said he'd never had pumpkin pie, and the kind lady who had been hosting them - as a thank you for getting rid of the ghost hunting her scarecrows - had insisted they wait until she finished cooking and have a slice. 

It had been worth it after all, as they'd walked with an extra spring in their step with a stomach full of homemade pie and fresh milk, and travelling at night was not that big of a problem for an elf and a tiefling. 

Still, Wilbur should have known not to get too relaxed, because as they turned the corner into a ghostly empty alley, they had found themselves no longer alone. A lone figure stood, partly hidden by shadows, but there was no way to mistake their identity. 

"Hey there, friend!" Phil had exclaimed, tone amicable despite the evident tension in his posture - Wil could clearly see his knuckles turning white from his grip around his staff, and he hoped the assassin in front of them couldn't.

"Your Majesty." The infamous Technoblade had answered, with a slight head tilt that Wilbur had assumed was to be interpreted as a bow. Then, he'd turned his piercing light blue eyes towards him.

"Mr. Soot. I hear you're looking for companions. I'm looking for ... Colleagues. I have a job to do, and it requires more than one person." Wilbur's tail had swung wildly for a moment, both in excitement and indignation. On one hand, this was *the* Technoblade, infamous assassin, notorious thief, wanted in most reigns, the only being able to easily succeed at what most people would never dream of being able to do. 

On the other hand, there were surely less fear inducing ways of asking for help, right? Couldn't he have met them at the tavern, in the morning? Possibly surrounded by other people, where they could feel safe rejecting his offer, instead of fearing a knife in the back the moment they turned?

"What kind of job?" The bard had asked, steadying his voice despite how the thief's stare had seemingly locked him into place.

"A good one. Mostly a well paying one." He'd replied shrugging, seemingly uncaring of how tense the air around them was as he spinned a throwing knife in his hand. Wilbur dared shooting a look to his right, where Phil was now standing a tad more relaxed, and raised an eyebrow. This could be their big breakthrough, a chance to make a good name for themselves - they'd kept mostly to themselves for almost half a year now, doing odd jobs here and there, slowly making their way across the region ... How would it feel to sleep in a decent tavern for one night? What if they could finally afford a horse? Heavens above, did Wilbur wish he could buy a new pair of boots.

"We're in. We can talk in the morning to go over the details?" Phil had asked, sounding as tired and hopeful as Wilbur felt. The bard guessed that, as a king travelling for the first time in his life under false pretences, Phil was the one between the two of them who was less used to sleeping on the floor and eating "whatever". 

As the blade was thrown in the air, there was a sudden flash of pink light and then it was gone, vanished in the darkness. 

"Sure. I'll see you tomorrow." And then he'd disappeared too, hopefully not hearing Wilbur's scoffed "showoff" and Phil's chuckles. 

The next morning, slightly more rested, they were in the middle of greatly missing the previous day's pumpkin pie over their meagre portions of stale bread and warm mead, when the whole tavern went impossibly quiet. There was a beat of silence as every head turned towards the newcomer, then Phil leaned back with one arm stretched out and waved. 

"Techno, mate! Come join us!" The thief's ears twitched in their direction, then he immediately started walking towards them - pace steady and sure, despite how everyone was staring at him. 

In the bright light of the middle of the morning, surrounded by other adventurers and staring down in disgust at their breakfast, the infamous Technoblade looked a lot less intimidating, if one was able to look past the entire armoury he carried with him. If he hadn't been an actual, literal hellspawn, Wilbur would have been put off by the bright pink skin and pig-like features of his face, but the bard himself had horns, blue skin and a tail, so he couldn't really judge anyone based on looks. 

Technoblade looked like he was about to say something about their breakfast, but Phil evidently dissuaded him by stuffing his face with what remained of his loaf of bread - which was a chunk about as big as his fist, and even the thief looked slightly impressed. 

Wilbur took a deliberately slow sip of his mead as Phil munched away, eyeing the rest of the tavern as if to dare them to keep staring at the three of them. 

By the time he was putting down his drink, the bloody knife from the night before was back, this time being balanced on the tip of Techno's finger as he stared at it with a bored expression.

Wilbur placed his tankard on the table and the thief's eyes met his for just a moment before going back to looking bored with his balancing act - which Phil was rather enjoying, from what Will could see from the corner of his eye. Then, just as suddenly as the night before, Techno's eyes switched from light blue to a shining pink and his blade disappeared. 

"So ... What's your opinion on friendship bracelets?" 

Wilbur had reared back and immediately choked on nothing, while the utter bastard on his right burst out laughing.

"What?! What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?!" Wilbur had demanded, still breathless, after Phil had half-heartedly patted his back. 

Techno had shrugged, seemingly awkward, Phil had laughed more before steering the conversation towards the topic of their job. Wilbur had thought it weird, a quirk of a lone wolf that was so unused to companionship that they would just say whatever came to their mind, but he'd always been able to switch his focus to business rather fast. 

Meanwhile, in the present day, Wilbur was currently biting his own finger in order to keep the hysterical laughter threatening to spill. Eyes almost tearing up, shoulder shaking - had the thief been serious from the beginning? Was this a joke, a callback? It couldn't be, it was too well made to be a joke! Not that Techno was known to do anything half-assedly ... A muffled giggle escaped him, and Wilbur quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, but apparently nothing flew past the infamous Technoblade. 

"Shut up." His gruff voice had come suddenly, still from his position against the lone tree in the clearing they'd chosen to rest in. 

Another giggle escaped him as he sat upright on his cot, his tail swishing on the ground excitedly - and probably filling his cot with dirt and leaves, but at the moment he couldn't care less. There was something, some warm, fuzzy feeling invading his chest, waking him up even better than the threat of an attack as he held the bracelet to his chest.

"Aw, Techno! But I thought we were best friends!" Wilbur protested in a fake offended tone, the warm feeling spreading as he heard the thief scoff and then chuckle lightly, shaking his head. 

"We are, it's final, you're not getting out of this." Techno replies, waving his knife towards him in a way that would have been menacing if he hadn't just said the sweetest thing Wilbur's ever heard - for now, because this is just a step into their friendship; Techno has a way of being devastatingly earnest about his feelings in the best and most unexpected ways, and Wilbur doesn't know really know what he's in for yet. 

Instead, Wilbur just clutches the bracelet to his chest and chuckles, thankful he's not choking on his emotions yet - he already knows he'll be writing a song about this, can feel the energy of it under his fingertips.

"You neither, man. I'm counting on it, you big nerd." 

Techno scoffs, waves him away.

"Do I get to keep the knife, too?" Wilbur asks, because he's never been able to shut up, and there's no way he's going to sleep after all this. 

"Sure, whatever. I have more." 

"Thank you, best friend!" 

Turns out Wilbur can actually fall asleep after all that, because the last thing he remembers before falling asleep is Techno's annoyed groan and the smell of daisies.

----

I do hope you liked it! If there are any mistakes let me know, English is not my first language ajdhwokl

Also if you want to come and ramble about this to us ,,,,,, you are all deffo welcome!!

[imagineaworlds]

When the World Stopped -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual​

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Smoking tobacco. Mentions of underage drinking. Allusion to the use and trade of drugs.

Pairing: Young!Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 2028

When I first saw him, he was hiding behind the school with his friends, passing around a few cigarettes. While they were certainly hiding from the public eye, they weren’t exactly under cover from anyone like myself who would happen upon them. I mean, their whole operation was out in the open. They weren’t even that good at exchanging the sticks and the lighters in their palms without being obvious about it. The least they could have done was use the shed out on the far off baseball field as cover. But, nope. They were right there, sitting on a bench, lighting up for anyone to see.

I guess I shouldn’t have been exactly surprised, either. The kind of crowd he ran in wasn’t exactly breeding valedictorians. Most of them probably saw themselves winding up in prison or a grave six feet under for their ten years after high school plan. They were the kind of kids who were totally nonchalant about school and socializing. It didn’t matter what their attendance was, how well they did with their grades, or who liked them because they all felt like they had been set up for failure in life, so what was the point in trying, right? But he was the worst of them all. From what I heard in the rumor mill, he liked to smoke more than just cigarettes, and he couldn’t have given a single fuck about what would happen if he got caught with it on the school’s campus. He was probably the one who told the rest of them that they should start lighting up then and there.

As I passed by them though, trying to maintain my distance so as to not draw attention to myself, I could feel his eyes following me. There was a point where I glanced up quickly to see if he really was watching me or if I was going insane, and I could see just how out of place he suddenly looked. While all of his friends were still joking around, shoving each other, poking each other, and putting the lighters in each other’s faces, he stopped entirely to just stare at me. His mouth fell agape slightly and I saw his eyes soften. Suddenly, he didn’t look like the kind of kid who would run with that crowd— let alone run it.

“Aaron—” one of his friends laughed, shoving his shoulder back to catch his attention.

He barely wavered, moving with the impact of the hit, but his eyes stayed on mine. I slowed down ever so slightly, just to see if it was me or if something behind me caught his attention. But as I came to a slow and steady stop, he jumped up from the bench they were sitting on, and he ran over to me. His hair bounced with each step, the cigarette trapped between his teeth holding on for dear life, but his eyes were still on mine.

“Aaron!” his friends called after him.

I started walking again. I wanted nothing to do with him or the friends who were waiting for him to go back. They weren’t the kind of kids I necessarily enjoyed, and I was positive that no one would think it was a good idea for me to get caught up in a crowd like that, either. As the new kid, I had been working over time to ensure that my image stayed squeaky clean. I didn’t need students, teachers, or parents of my new friends judging me based on the simple, stupid fact that the wrong kid ran up to talk to me.

“Wait up!” I finally heard him call when I turned on my heels and nearly made a run for it.

I froze in place and screwed my eyes shut as I cursed myself for daring to look up at him in the first place. Maybe it was my fault. He had been watching me for some reason. Maybe it was because he wanted me to give him a reason to pick on me. Maybe he was going to pull a knife on me and tell me to hand over all the money I had— which wasn’t much, obviously. But him and his friends seemed like the desperate kind to steal just to get enough cash for cigarettes or booze.

I turned back on my heels so that I could face him, and maybe get the upper hand by telling him off before he could try something. “What do you want—”

“What’s your name?” he asked, pulling his cigarette out of his mouth to exhale the smoke.

I furrowed my brows. “What’s it to you?”

He smirked. “I just haven’t seen you around before, that’s all.”

“So?”

“So… You’d think that I would have noticed someone as breath taking as you before.”

I chortled. What a line. Geez, I couldn’t believe that I actually thought that this kid would try to rob me. He probably couldn’t even hurt a fly, despite the impression he was trying to give the rest of the world. Between the leather jacket, the black shades clipped to the collar of his shirt, the cigarette between his fingers, the fake diamond ear piercing, and the I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude, anyone would have guessed that this kid was a low-life, amount to nothing, soon to be high school wash out. Hell, I clearly thought that about him at first, too. But when he stared at me like that, then started talking, then smiled… I realized that he was just a kid like me. Maybe he was lost, or maybe he was just downright stupid for acting the way he did, but he was still a kid.

But that line he hit me with… I couldn’t help but laugh. This act he was putting on for the rest of the world dictated that he needed to be the kind of guy who was a douchebag and could go up to any person with the same line, and somehow get in her pants. Though, I doubt it ever really worked. It certainly wasn’t working on me. It didn’t even roll off his tongue the way he wanted, which was probably a product of the fact that he seemed to cringe himself in response to what he said. It was a douchebag line, and he knew it. He was probably just ashamed that he said it— but more so that he had to play the role that told him he needed to say it.

“I should be going,” I said to him.

“No— Wait—” he insisted, reaching out to grab my hand before I could walk away again.

When his skin met mine, we both froze, staring at my wrist and the grip he had around it. I could feel that I had stopped breathing, yet I couldn’t seem to remember how to inhale. I knew that I needed to breathe eventually, but with his hand on me, I wasn’t sure if I could. There was something about his touch. It didn’t scare me, like I thought it would. It didn’t make me want to scream out for help or to tuck tail and run. In fact, it made me want to stay. Somehow, it made me want to listen to all of his cheesy pick up lines, to give him the chance to make one stick— just as long as he was still touching me. The world felt quiet when he held me like that. It was such an innocent touch, yet, for some reason, it made the reality around us disappear long enough for me to look back up at him and realize that he was just as taken aback as I was. Where he once had an asshole-type smirk, he was now biting his bottom lip, trying to focus on finding his breath again.

My eyes searched his for a moment. I took note of how dark they were. Besides the vivid brown irises, his pupils were dilated to the point I thought that I could get lost in their black abyss. Then I panicked when I actually started to get lost. I pulled my hand away from him in an instant and tried to play it cool by using my palms to flatten out my skirt.

“Who are you?” he asked again, this time more sincere.

I looked at him through my lashes. “Y/N.”

“Y/N… what?”

“It’s a small town. You’ll find out eventually… Aaron.” It felt weird to say his name when I didn’t know him. It felt like whispering the same of a ghost. “I’ll see you around.”

“Wait—” he stopped me again. I rolled my eyes and tapped my foot against the sidewalk impatiently. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Not whatever it is you’re doing.” I glanced over his shoulder to see his friends still lighting up while watching us intently. “Like I said, I’ll see you around, Aaron.”

“Hotchner.”

I raised a brow. “What?”

“My last name is Hotchner. Now you have to tell me yours.”

“I don’t recall agreeing to any such terms.”

“You’re right. You didn’t. Will you at least agree to letting me take you to a movie tonight?”

I chuckled. “Why? So that you can try to shove your tongue down my throat for two hours? I’ll pass, Aaron Hotchner.” I made a step to the side to try and escape our conversation, but he caught me again, and I felt the world disappear once more. “Will you ever let me leave?”

“Only if you say yes.”

“You don’t even know me.”

He shrugged. “I’d like to. That’s the whole point, right? And, well… trying to stick my tongue down your throat for two hours is just an added bonus.” He laughed, returning to his douchebag persona as he let go of me. I gagged. “I’m kidding!”

“Hotch!” his female friend called from the bench.

He shooed them with a waving hand behind his back. “Listen, Y/N,” he let my name roll off his tongue, “I’d really like to take you to a movie tonight. No tongue involved. Say yes, and if you like it, maybe you’ll consider telling me your last name. Say yes, and you hate it, you can say ‘I told you so’ and never see me again. Say no, and you'll just sit at home all night, asking yourself why you couldn’t think or breathe when I do this…” His pinkie lightly ran over my wrist, sending a shiver up my spine. Damn him. “What do you say?”

I sucked in a deep breath as his touch retreated. He was right, unfortunately. If I said no— which, I really wanted to— then I’d just be moping around, wondering why the hell I looked at him, why he came running over, why he seemed to be interested in learning my name, and why the hell the world seemed to stop every time he touched me. But, like I said, I had worked too hard to get where I was with people’s impressions of me to throw it all away for a night of answers. Aaron Hotchner was bad news… He really was. He was exactly the kind of person I should’ve been staying away from. Yet, his eyes seemed to capture me again long enough to practically hypnotize me into nodding and whispering, “Yes.”

Hotch, as his friends called him, grinned ear to ear at my response. He fixed his posture, standing up taller than before. He bit down gently on his cigarette, breathing in a hefty amount of smoke. With his hands now free, he brushed his hair back out of his face, then winked at me. From behind his cigarette, he mumbled, “I’ll pick you up at six.”

“You don’t know where I live,” I rolled my eyes and bit back a smile. “I’ll meet you there at six.”

He grabbed his cigarette again. “Fair enough.” He exhaled carefully, pushing the smoke up into his nose… seductively. “I’ll see you then. Y/N.”

I nodded. “See you then. Aaron Hotchner.”

And the world caught up to reality again as he turned to run back to his friends.

criminal minds family: @peggy1999​ @gorgeousdarkangel​ @marvelismylifffe​  @alex--awesome--22​ @oceaneblu​

[spooky-luvur]

I hope this isn’t too specific but I have an idea for Micah. gender neutral! reader sees Micah being outcast from the group, so they start to spend more time with him, hoping he’ll open up. Micah starts to fall hard for reader but scared of rejection he asks reader to help him clean up his act and be nicer to Javier, Charles, the women, etc. Maybe the last scene could be them in private and reader says “You’re a good man, Micah.”? Idk just something thats pretty sweet/fluffy. Thanks!

Idk how to write atm bear with me it’s 5:20 am

But I hope this is good enough god he’s a bastard but I love him

Sorry for any mistakes

-

Dutch had let you join the gang after he had caught you attempting to steal his very expensive pocket watch. Much like Sean, he’d seen your potential and they way you thought about what would happen next. He believed it would be useful and convinced Hosea to let you in.

At first, you didn’t really do anything. You sat on the tree stump on the cliff at the edge of camp, watching the days go by. You’d watch the gang members. How they laughed, how they cried, how they danced and smiled and hugged and sang and celebrated. How they helped and smiled at each other.

Except one person.

Micah Bell.

You watched him too. But he didn’t sing or dance or laugh or smile. Instead he frowned and antagonized and drank and slept.

Your first thought of him was: what a sad man.

Why was he so angry all the time?

Well, not all the time.

Sometimes when the gang was dancing he’d politely ask the young author, Mary Beth to dance. He’d stutter and hold out his hand, but she’d harshly turn him away. Then he’d turn away, and if you looked closely, you saw that he indeed was a sad man.

“Micah.”

The man glances up from polishing his precious guns.

“What?”

“Dutch needs us to scope out the hills. A few camps there that may have something worth taking.”

Micah scoffs. “Us?”

“Yeah. Come on.”

———

“I like your horse.”

At first, it doesn’t register. Then Micah turns to you, face scrunched up in confusion.

“What?”

You hum. “Baylock. He’s pretty strong. Healthy. You take good care of him. That’s admirable.”

Micah looks back at the long stretch of dirt road in front of us.

“He’s all I got.”

“How come?”

You see his jaw clench, and he shifts in the saddle.

“Shut up.”

————

There was a patch of trees not far from the back of the hut a few O’Driscoll’s were holding up in. Dutch mentioned there might be some, but they had pretty powerful looking guns.

You and Micah were hidden between a few tight trees, guns clutched in hand.

“You see any dynamite?”

“No. Got any on hand?”

“Not today.”

“It’s two guys. We hit ‘em hard and fast.”

You quickly grab his shoulder, pulling him back down before he can stand all the way.

“What the hell??”

“There’s more than two, Micah. Look.”

Three more rough-looking men emerge from the side of the rundown hut, each carrying their own guns.

“Shit. Well what do you think?”

Your eyes survey the area. The hut is made of wood, but it’s moldy and rotting. Falling in on itself. Dirty, dry, and very flammable.

“How do you feel about fire?”

“About-“

You stand, whistling sharply before hurling a lit fire bottle. It arches through the air before smashing into the roof of the hut. The flames consume the entire thing within minutes.

The O’Driscoll’s immediately turn and start shooting in our direction, making us both duck back behind the trees.

“You couldn’t have warned me?!”

“I asked you how you felt about fire!”

Micah shakes his head, but there’s a grin on his face throughout the time it takes to take out the men.

The hut still burns as we approach, making Micah holster his guns with an irritated sigh.

“And now we got no money. Good job!”

You merely point to a large chest underneath a nearby tree.

It’s satisfying to see Micah Bell speechless.

————

“You’re good with your guns. I ain’t hardly ever seen such quick shooting.”

“...”

“Them O’Driscoll’s didn’t see us comin, huh?”

“...”

“You-“

“Stop that!” Micah finally snaps, glaring over at you as you both make your way back to camp, pockets full of cash.

You meet his eye, not backing down. “No, Micah. You’re good at things and you deserve to know it.”

His brow furrows, lips curling into an angry? Frown. He huffs, looking back over. “Yeah.”

———

With night, comes the singing, the drinking, the dancing and drinking. Music from the radio in Dutch’s tent. Smiles. Laughter. For them, it’s normal. But not for-

“Micah.”

“(Y/n). What can I do for you on this fine night?”

He leans back, pocketing his knife.

“Another job? Dutch got someone else we need to shoot?”

“Will you dance with me?”

His eyes grow wide, and you have to bite back a laugh. You grin though, and the man sputters, then scoffs to hide it.

“Yeah, right.”

Holding out your hand in an actual offering, he glances down at it before looking back up at you. The look isn’t incredulous. It isn’t disgusted, it isn’t mean or perverted. It’s almost...

...sad.

“Will you dance with me tonight, Micah?”

“Look, you can shoot good, but we ain’t-“

“Oh for heavens sake.”

You pull him up yourself, laughing as he stumbles and nearly makes the two of you fall over.

You hold one hand, putting the other on his shoulder. His other hand hovers in the air for a moment before resting on your side.

The slow song, fluttering in the night like a breeze seems to play louder. Micah can’t meet your eye. Instead, he looks to the side, down, at your neck, anywhere.

“Come on Micah. I ain’t that ugly am I?”

“Shut up.”

You give him a smile before closing your eyes, slowly resting your head on his shoulder. You feel his chest rise sharply, exhaling with a quick, muttered word.

“Shit.”

————

“I don’t understand.”

Micah sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Come on, you’re really gonna make me say it again?”

You blink.

“I want...to change....” the word is forced out, his mouth clamping shut immediately after.

You cross your arms.

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really! Javier, the redskin, the women. I don’t exactly treat ‘em right.”

“Okay, first of all, you can’t be racist if you want to get on Javier or Charles’ good side. Or the ladies, for that matter. Now,” you straighten up. “Say their names again.”

“What? I don’t-“

“You wanna be nicer? Say their names.”

He realizes his former mistakes, and his shoulders lower slightly.

“Javier, Charles, Karen, Mary Beth and Tilly.”

“And?”

“Sadie Adler.”

“And pretty much everyone but it’s a start. Sit down, Micah.” You pat the log next to you, scooting over time let him sit.

“Now, what do you think you’re doing wrong?”

————

“Hey, Javier...”

Javier looks up from polishing a throwing knife wit some sort of oil, slightly taken aback from seeing Micah standing there.

“Hey, Micah. You need something?”

“I uh...I heard you needed some Oleander. I found some, could you use it?”

Javier glances down at Micah’s outstretched hand, picking up the poisonous plant, turning it over.

“Yeah, this is...perfect, actually. Thanks, Micah.” He gives him a nod.

Micah quickly turns and leaves, giving you a thumbs up.

—

“Charles!”

His eyes linger on whatever Micah has in his hand for a split second, but Charles’s eyes meet Micah’s when he approaches.

“Yes.”

Micah hesitates. Would this even count as an ‘apology?’ Charles did punch him once, but he admits, he probably deserved it.

“I uh, here, take it.”

His holds out the elegantly carved bow, bound with a strong twine. Charles glances at him before back at the bow, carefully taking it. He runs his fingers over the smooth wood.

“Micah, this is Yew. How did you make this?”

“Well, (Y/n) helped me some. Said you’d care for it.”

Charles sighs, but nods. “I do.” He, like Javier, gives Micah one last look before leaving and for that, Micah breaths out a sigh of relief.

——

Something...odd, was happening, and the gang members began to notice. Micah had begun to yell less, and curse, and mock and accuse and bully. He’d helped Tilly carry a heavy load of clothes, he’d sewn a book cover for Mary Beth, donated more money, (left the hunting to Arthur) stopped kicking Cain, stopped doing things that would make him a *bad person.* Yes, he still got drunk, brushed people off, and pushed Arthur and Kieran around a bit, but other than that? Damn.

At the end of the two weeks, Micah had been sitting beside (Y/n) at one of the tables. They had an odd grin on their face, making Micah a little uneasy.

“You got something to say, say it.”

“Oh I got something to say, but not here. Come on, Bell.”

-

Reaching the large tree (Y/n) had first approached Micah at, they take his hand, surprising him.

“I’m proud of you, Micah. Honestly? I had my doubts. You were such an angry man. All alone, moping.”

“I do not mope.”

(Y/n) laughs, “Well, not anymore you don’t! What would you do without me, huh?”

“Certainly not mope-“

The blond is cut off by a sudden kiss. He doesn’t push away.

Pulling apart, (Y/n) rests their hand against Micahs face, letting him lean into it.

“You’ve changed, Micah Bell. You’re a good man.”

Micah looks away. “I don’t know about that.”

“Things are gonna happen, that we know. But you don’t gotta do it alone.”

————

[greatshell-rider]

Jerry leaned against the open doorway to Lani’s room. “Hey, I killed a guy in the back alley.”

His sister sat hunched over her desk, a lamp pooling light around her head as she scribbled rapidly on a notepad with one hand and flipped quickly through a thick book with the other. Jerry was hardly surprised to find her still awake; it was only an hour or two past midnight. “Cool,” she said without looking up. “Put it over there.”

She didn’t gesture towards a “there”, so Jerry lugged the guy’s corpse into the room and dropped it against the far wall with the window. After a second’s hesitation, he cracked the window open. He didn’t know how soon Lani would get to the body, and while she might not care about a stench, he had to live with her.

“Didn’t think Dalpho would act so soon,” Lani commented as Jerry made to leave. He slowed and she continued, “Might throw a wrench in our current plan.” He saw a smile curve up her cheek at that.

Oh no. No. “Wasn’t Dalpho,” he said hurriedly. “Just some crook jumped me wanting my purse.” He scowled, flexing his hands and feeling the blood drying on them. “Tried to warn him off with my sword, but he was determined.”

“Or desperate. Don’t you ever spare a thought for all those poor souls out there? The whole city’s starving, Jerr-Bear, and you only think of yourself. Tsk.”

Clenching his jaw, Jerry reminded himself of the resolution he’d made this morning: No responding to Lani’s taunts. If he succeeded, he’d promised himself a spoonful of peanut butter (or the closest approximation to it this ’scape could produce) as a reward.

It is not worth it, he told himself. He took a deep breath and walked toward the door.

“It’s funny,” she mused idly, “how this keeps happening. Whenever I get jumped, we’re all friends by the end. But for some reason, showing off your pretty blade always makes things worse. What’s up with that?”

He threw a dirty look over his shoulder, opening his mouth to remind her how her “friends” always ended up. But he saw her smirk, recognized that glint of honed mirth in her eyes, and forcibly swallowed the retort.

“Shut up,” he growled, and slammed the door shut behind him.

She snickered behind the wood, and Jerry nearly turned right back around to tear the door off the hinges and smash it over her stupid head. He stood before it, hands clenching and unclenching, anger radiating through his body so painfully he had to bite down on his tongue so as to not scream. He’d just killed a man and, as always, his sister. Didn’t. Care. So why did he?

Spoonful of peanut butter, Jerr-Bear.

Jerry forced one lungful of air in, then out, then in, then out. He drew back his foot and slammed it against the door, found the shudder that went up the wood to be satisfying if not relieving, and limped into the kitchen to get that peanut butter.

“I’m going to eat the entire fucking jar,” he muttered.

But his sword, still dirtied, was lying on the table. He couldn’t put it away until he saw it cleaned and inspected it for damage. And he couldn’t eat with it dripping on the floor like that.

He sighed, dragging his hand down his face before remembering that it, like the sword, was also covered in blood. Swearing by the names of every deity he knew in both English and Wide and the other alien curses he’d picked up over the years, he went to the sink and scrubbed himself clean as well as he could, though the blood on his tunic was likely going to stain—the fabric was off-world, and so far had reacted poorly to most materials on this ’scape—and he got too frustrated to finish picking his fingernails clean, then stomped over into his room to get his stupid maintenance kit to get the stupid blade all nice and sparkly for its next stupid victim.

“Who’s the real victim, me or them, huh,” he muttered as he sat down with a towel over his knees, the kit set out on the table, and the sword in his hands. “Who’s the one who has to clean everything up in the end?”

Speaking of, there were smears and drips of blood all over the apartment from dragging the corpse in. That needed to be cleaned as well.

“Everything needs to be cleaned around here,” he snarled, scrubbing harder than what was polite with a rag at the blade. “Should just burn it all down and don’t bother building anything on top. Or else the ghosts will get at it.”

He was rambling nonsense. It was too late. He should be in bed. He should’ve been in bed hours ago. No, he wouldn’t have slept, but at least there were no random strangers to murder in bed. Not so far on this ’scape at least. Yeah there had been that one time, but that had been one time—

Rambling.

Jerry determinedly finished cleaning his sword in silence, not letting himself think a thing but focus solely on the monotonous, repetitive motions that had become familiar habit so long ago they should’ve been comforting now. Should have.

When it was done, he held the sword up, tilting it back and forth to watch the steel be highlighted at different angles. It wasn’t reflective enough to mirror his own face in it—which would have been far too thematically symbolic for Jerry to hold his lunch—but as he held it he couldn’t stop picturing the moment again and again, sliding the blade into the man’s gut before he could plunge his knife in Jerry’s throat or arm or whatever his wild swing had been aimed at. One moment, as shiny as it was now, the next, slick with gore. How quickly a thing became spoiled, and how easy to wipe it all away as if it had never happened.

Rambling.

Scowling, Jerry slid the sword into its sheath—good leather and metal, not flesh and bone—and put it on the table again. He tossed the towel onto the nearest puddle of blood (He was not scrubbing floors tonight. Not tomorrow either. He would make Lani do it. New resolution.) and, feeling exhausted, went to the cupboards. He didn’t even really want to eat anymore, but he did deserve at least one spoonful. Miserably, he pulled a cabinet open and dug through the mishmash of their rations gathered across the ’scapes and dumped in here in case of emergency to the fake back he’d installed early on. He pried the cruddy door open and wrapped his hand around the one remaining jar of air quotes peanut butter he had left.

The moment his fingers touched the plastic, he knew something was wrong. The weight was off.

Slowly, he pulled the jar out, dragging it through the rations without trying to maneuver it safely out. Old dusty packs of dried oatmeal and crumbled crackers fell to the floor, piling around his feet, as he held it up to his face.

He stared at the jar.

It was empty. Licked clean. Drawn on the lid in black marker, a smirking face winked at him.

Oh. Oh! Two murders tonight, then. It was a pity he’d already cleaned his sword.

The plastic squeaked. Jerry blinked and realized he had squeezed the empty jar so hard it was now crumbled in his fist, twisted in painfully distorted warpings.

“I’m going to do that to her bones!” he announced, cheerlessly, to no one.

“Wuh?” came a muffled yell from Lani’s room.

“You ate my peanut butter!” he called back, since apparently she’d been listening at the door. Waiting. Knowing. Giddy with excitement, no doubt.

“It wasn’t even good!”

“I am going to kill you!”

“Can’t! Locked the door!”

“There’s a window!”

“Ha! Wait, let me get a camera, I want to remember this!”

“Lani, I’m going to kill you! Straight up!”

“Thought you were bi.”

“You should see what I did to the jar.” He brandished it, though she wasn’t even in the room. “I didn’t even mean to.”

“Funny, the similarities between that statement and what I said about thugs in alleyways . . .”

“Going to kill you!”

“The day you say that sentence in past tense or at the very least present, I might start believing you!”

“Haha!” His voice dropped. “I’m going to bed.”

He closed his ears to whatever Lani said next and did that, crashing face-first onto the cot, which nearly buckled underneath his weight, and lay there with his eyes open, staring at the pilled fuzz of the mattress. He’d forgotten his sword in the kitchen. He always meant to have it on him, or close enough to be within arms-reach. He’d always had it, ever since Lani found out it in the sewers . . . he should go get it. Just in case. It was all he had to keep himself and his sister safe.

From the ghosts?

Rambling.

It could stay in the kitchen. For one night. Please, give him one night.

Jerry covered his eyes with his hand. Maybe that would help him sleep. But he could feel it, the dried blood still under his fingernails. He should’ve just cleaned that out, so it wouldn’t distract him. But it seemed, no matter what he did, he could never get every little bit out . . .

[kkeidawrites]

Gone (Filler)

Part 2

Flashback continued~~~~

Esmé walked with a pout on her face as she stubbornly, pushed through the bushes and low trees while Sypha followed behind her, trying to stop her.

“Esmé, please wait. Alucard didn’t mean it, he’s just being childish.” Sypha tried and Esmé stopped turning to her.

“Whether he meant it or not Sypha, it’s the fact that he said it.” Esmé said and rubbed her tired eyes.

“I don’t...” Esmé frowned, taking a deep breath as she looked at Sypha sadly.

“I don’t like when people make fun of my looks, I’ve already been through it when I was younger.” Esmé told her. Turning around with a sigh, Esmé hugged herself suddenly, feeling self conscious.

“You’ve been through it?” Sypha questioned.

“When you are raised by a single father who himself has never had a mother or any female contact, it shows little to what he knew about raising a girl.” Esmé smiled at the bitter feeling.

“I acted more like a man than a woman and it made the other villagers begin to tell me that I was beginning to look like a man.”

“My hair was cut short like a man’s, my body was slow to develop than other girls in the village and I fought all the boys, young and older.” Esmé said remembering one time when a boy asked her why she acted like a boy than a girl. Then making fun of her still flat chest and boyish hair cut.

Her mother had died giving birth to her. Her mother Ihan was actually carrying twins but, it was a difficult pregnancy, when she went into labor she was in a great deal of pain, perhaps more painful than any other woman has ever been when giving birth.

“She was only able to push out me while she and my younger brother died, and ever since I was always outcasted. They pretty much blamed me for killing both my mother and brother.” She laughed bitterly.

Fuck those people in Jova, they thought they were so smart.

“Things became worse when I grew older and I began looking more like my mother. And you know what’s funny,” Sypha frowned, she knew that Esmé was in a lot of emotional pain.

“They said I was cursed, because I was able to gain her face and that every time I would look in a mirror it would be a reminder of who I killed.” Esmé said clenching her fists.

“You can’t let those people get to you.” Sypha touched her arm in comfort and the two sat down on a fallen tree.

“They had no right to treat you that way and say those things to you.” Sypha said.

“You can’t control the way of life...I’m sure your mother was the strongest woman ever, she even had the opportunity to have twins!” Esmé still didn’t feel convinced and Sypha frowned sadly.

“At least you had the chance to have a father and mother,” she said.

“My parents died when I was very young and my grandfather took me in and raised me. I don’t know much about them and my grandfather would be very brief when talking about them.” Sypha told her fixing her cloak.

“He just tells me that they were speakers as well but, that is all I know of them. Now, my grandfather is traveling the countryside...I should be with him.” Sypha says.

“But, I have a purpose in this world...to stop Dracula and be able to return to him and the other speakers without the fear of night creatures attacking me.” She continues and Esmé nodded in understanding.

“So, the things that both Trevor and Alucard say don’t faze me in the least. If anything, ignoring them is what has kept my sanity.” Sypha laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Just ignore Alucard if he says something childish like that, he’s harmless really. And I’m sure he’s hurting too.” Sypha says and Esmé sighs.

“I know...it’s just...when someone says something like that it brings back a lot of unwanted memories.” Esmé stood to her feet and smiled down at Sypha.

“Thanks for the pep talk, Sypha. I’ll try and ignore him but, I won’t promise to hit him when he says something out of line.” Esmé mused and Sypha laughs, standing as well.

“I won’t stop you.” She giggles as the two women return to the wagon finding Trevor and Alucard arguing as usual.

End of Flashback

Unfortunately, Alucard had yet to apologize to Esmé and the brownskinned woman had yet to say a thing to him.

Stirring the contents in the pot, the two remained silent, and Esmé wondered where Sypha and Trevor went. They were just supposed to get more firewood.

Then it clicked, they set them up. Sypha must have made Alucard come and sit by her to try and talk with her and Esmé rolled her eyes with a sigh.

‘Damn you, Sypha.’ She thought annoyed.

“Listen,” she heard the dhampir say and Esmé continued her stirring. Alucard knew she was ignoring him and after getting a earful from Sypha he agreed to apologize. Or at least attempt to.

He had heard their conversation and felt for Esmé. Losing his mother to people who did not understand her methods of helping them, to being considered an outcast to others were all familiar to Alucard.

“I wanted to apologize-”

“You’re forgiven.” Esmé interrupted and Alucard rolled his eyes.

“I’m trying to apologize here-”

“And I said you’re forgiven.” Esmé stopped her magic and moved the pot from the campfire.

“That’s hardly a decision to make so easily. I can’t properly apologize to you if you don’t listen.” Alucard said growing frustrated.

“I don’t need to receive an apology from you as long as you keep your mouth shut and stay away from me we’ll both get through this safely.” Esmé snapped and Alucard growled in annoyance standing to his feet beginning to leave when he stopped.

Taking a deep breath, Alucard turned back and stood beside her, Esmé raised an eyebrow at him.

“No, I’m not going to take that.” Alucard said and Esmé frowned.

“I’m going to apologize and you are going to listen.” He told her.

“Oh, am I now?”

“You are! I want to apologize for what I had said earlier. It was unnecessary and very rude, I had became annoyed and the words that left my lips were all...adrenaline rushed words. And for that I am sorry.” He placed a hand over his torso and bowed to the woman. His golden hair curtained his entire face, blocking her way of seeing if he was telling the truth or not.

Esmé watched him closely and sighed dejectedly, she supposed that staying mad at him wouldn’t solve anything.

“I forgive you, Alucard. Now, stop with that bowing shit, I’m not a noble or anything.” Esmé waved her hand at him and the man returned to his straightened pose.

“I was taught mannerisms when I was young, it’s a habit.” He says and Esmé chuckled.

“Yeah well, you don’t have to do that with me. Just be polite with me and I’ll do the same.” Esmé gave him a small smile and Alucard returned one.

“So, friends?” She asked holding out her hand to shake.

Alucard moved to grasp it gently in his gloved ones and shook it.

“I suppose so. You’re not as bad as Belmont, I guess I can deal with you too.” Alucard joked and Esmé flicked him off when their hands let go, with a laugh.

“Fuck you, asshole.” Esmé said earning a grin from the dhampir.

“Hey, we’re back!” Sypha announced as she and Trevor had armfuls of wood with them.

Placing the wood beside the fire, both Sypha and Trevor took a seat and Sypha looked at Esmé with a knowing look.

“So, anything happen while we were gone?” She asked.

“Nope. Nothing at all.” Esmé said with glancing at Alucard then returning to the pot of rabbit stew.

“Anyway, let’s eat shall we?” Esmé changed the subject quickly before Sypha had the chance to tease her some more.

During dinner, Alucard told them about how his parents met and what the next agenda will be for everyone after Dracula was defeated.

The sound of a stick snapping alerted the foursome and they all turned to the sound of the source.

“Did you hear that?” Trevor asked.

“Animals humping in the undergrowth.” Alucard jokes. The sound was heard again.

“Wait, no.” Esmé put a hand over her face in annoyance.

“Which town is closest, is it still Gresit?” Trevor asked as he used his foot to shovel snow on to the fire, quickly extinguishing it.

“Arges is closer to us.” Sypha informs crouching as Esmé readied her hands. They glowed a light blue color and she raised them up to fight anything.

The sound of hissing and growls were heard as the night creatures made their appearance from the forest.

Trevor ran to the right to climb a tree while Alucard went left leaving only Esmé and Sypha. Sypha sighs and pulls on her hood while Esmé shrugged and moved to the left as well.

The night creatures began their attack and the first two were quickly killed by Alucard.

A griffin like monster came charging at Esmé and she dodged to her right to watch as it ran past her. The monster turned quickly and charged once again, Esmé used this time to ready her stance.

It lunged at her with a roar and Esmé grabbed it by its neck to body slam it.

Raising her left leg, she brought it down on the monster’s neck and twisted it, cracking its neck. Hearing a hiss to her right, Esmé dodged the flying night creature with a sythe and raised her hands to fire, fire balls at the wings of the monster. One hit one wing and it screeched in pain, flying towards her with the one wing it still had.

Esmé dodged its sword that landed on the snow next to her and got on her hands to land a spin kick to its head.

Discombobulated, Esmé returned to her feet and quickly grabbed its head smashing it against her knee than kicking it away. Conjuring up her magic to make a knife, Esmé ran to it and stabbed the side of its head.

Removing her knife, she turned to see the last few demons were killed by the others and sighed, then falling to her knees holding her side, as she felt the pain from her previous wound.

“Esmé!” Sypha called as she and the men rushed over.

Esmé looked up with one eye and saw that a demon was still alive. It was flying towards them and Esmé noticed that it’s flapping was too quiet to not be detected.

“Watch out!” She yelled out weakly to them.

She raised her hand and released a fire ball at it and the demon screeched as it landed with a heavy heap. Feeling a bit faint, Esmé felt her body grow heavy as she tilted to the side.

Her body was caught by Alucard as he let one leg rest on the snow while the other was holding her up and Sypha knelt by her to lift up her shirt to look at her wound. Alucard rested her body on him and he looked down at her worriedly.

“Fuck, that hurts like hell!” Esmé hissed as she felt the bandages of where her scratch mark from that demon was when they first met.

“She’s reopened her wound. I can stop the bleeding, but, she mustn’t fight again until she is healed.” Sypha instructs as she took some bandages out of her cloak.

Once she was rebandaged, Esmé winched from the pain and held it. Alucard gently removed her hand.

“Don’t touch it, you’ll only make it worst.” He scolded gently.

“Yes, mother.” Esmé joked. Alucard gave her a small smile.

Alucard helped her up and walked her to the wagon. Helping her inside, Esmé laid back against the wagon and Alucard sat next to her. He pulled a blanket over her and Esmé smiled in gratitude.

The next couple of hours went by and Sypha looked behind her to watch the two sleeping figures in the wagon.

“We’re almost to the next town, think we should wake them?” Trevor asked popping his stiff shoulders.

Sypha looked at him a second and shook her head.

“Let them sleep until we reach town.” Sypha said with a smile as she saw the position her two allies were in.

Esmé was curled up on Alucard’s shoulder, snoring softly as the dhampir’s head was lying on top of hers with one leg pulled up to his chest.

“I guess, even assholes like him, can have a heart.” Trevor mused as Sypha giggled softly.

“Are you speaking from experience?” She asks and Trevor raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’m not an asshole to everybody.” Trevor defends.

“Then why is most of your stories always start off with you getting into a fight in a bar. It’s like the start of a bad joke.”

“I’ve already told you it’s because, the people there are assholes. I’m telling you it’s a Belmont curse.”

“Sure it is Belmont. Sure it is.” Sypha laughs.

Esmé snuggles a bit closer to Alucard and the dhampir rubbed his cheek in her soft hair. He peeks open an eye to look down at her and smiled, snuggling into her hair more.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

I don’t own any gifs or Castlevania related things just my oc Esmé and that’s it.

End of Part 2

1 // 2 //

[secretlysheikah]

Tower Troubles Part 4: Trust Issues

Better late than never I suppose! The angst continues with this one, because I am a monster. I really hope you guys like this one. Once again I wrote the majority of this on my phone so please don’t murder me for errors. As always If I miss any trigger warnings please let me know so I can add them! 

Linked universe belongs to @jojo56830 so check her out if you want better Linked Universe content!

I do not claim any ownership of the Linked Universe, I am but a humble moron who thinks I can write things. 

Trigger warnings: Cauterization, wounds/ infection

Start here:

The walk back to camp was very slow going. Legend and Twilight didn’t want to push Wild too far. Even though Wild was certainly determined not to show how much pain he was actually in, Twilight and Legend could feel how hard he was shaking from the effort of just walking the few hundred feet to the camp. They also didn’t comment on the small gasps of pain Wild would let out when one of them accidentally pressed on a bruise, or jostled him in just the right way. Luckily camp was closer than they had expected and Legend was extremely grateful.

Camp as it turned out looked like a corner of a destroyed room that must have once been very nicely decorated if the scraps of worn and moldering rug meant anything. In the center of camp there was an old decrepit cooking pot with remains of what Legend thought were eggs. There was a small part of the roof still intact that over hanged the majority of the camp that offered some protection in case of rain. The other Links had apparently decided that the little camp needed something more and had chopped down a couple trees for seating on the outer edges of the ‘room’. Hyrule was in his bedroll snoring softly next to the fire, Wild’s bedroll was set up not too far away and the trio made their way over to it.

Legend and Twilight set Wild down gently on his bed roll and waited anxiously for him to get settled. Everyone else was doing their best not to stare at Wild, but it was obvious by their quick glances and guilty expressions that it was a failing endeavor. Still they did their best to focus on their tasks as they finished up setting up camp. At their arrival Time stood and made his was over to them.

“How are you feeling cub?” Time asked when he was close enough. Wild tensed for a moment before he offered a weak smile.

“I’ll be okay, just need to rest a bit and then we can get going.” Wild said gritting his teeth as he carefully scooted off his bedroll away from Time and opted instead to press against the closest wall. Time’s mouth pressed into a hard line at the movement before a confused look spread across his face as he finally processed exactly what Wild had said.

“Leave? But you…” Time trailed off as Legend put a hand on his shoulder. He gestured for Time to follow him and Time spared another look at Wild before he  complied, Twilight trailing quickly behind them.

“Legend, what is going on?” Time asked when they were out of sight from Wild.

“Yeah, I’d like to know too, considering you just promised him that we’d leave when he is clearly in no state for travel” Twilight added hotly and Time looked from Twilight’s angry stare to Legend’s flat look.

“Legend why would you say that? We can’t…” Time began but Legend held up a hand to silence him.

“I know we can’t leave, I’m not stupid.” Legend said pointedly looking at Twilight before continuing.

“Wild is adamant that we leave now. He’s convinced that Dark is somewhere close and he’s willing to risk hurting himself more to get out of here. So I said I’d talk to you and convince you to leave.” Legend explained and a mixture of emotions flashed across Time’s face before he carefully schooled it back to neutrality.

“Obviously we aren’t leaving” Time said and Legend rubbed his eyes in exasperation.

“Of course not, you saw how he was just struggling to limp over here. We just need to have him sit for a little, he’ll fall asleep soon and then all we have to do keep watch” Legend explained with all the false confidence he could muster.

“And if he doesn’t? You saw him, he’s as taught as a bow string” Twilight countered crossing his arms in front of himself with a disapproving frown. Legend cursed Twilight for voicing his own concerns but he was determined not to show it.

“I happen to agree with Wild, it doesn’t feel safe here.” Time said after a moment of pause, but continued quickly at Twilight’s squawk of protest.

“Of course that doesn’t mean we’re going to pack up and leave, but we need to be wary. Though I’m not sure how we’re going to get Wild to rest if he is so convinced that Dark is floating around.” Time finished as he rubbed the stubble on his face. The old man looked worn and tired and Legend didn’t envy his role as leader just then.

“Look, We’ll just give him some food and I’m sure the warmth of the fire will do the rest” Legend said trying his best to be reassuring but he could tell he was missing the mark.

“And if that doesn’t work?” Twilight asked and Legend felt steel creep unbidden into his voice.

“Look, just let me handle Wild. I’ll make sure he rests.” Legend said cryptically and Legend didn’t miss the worried look Twilight gave Time. Legend looked away from them and back towards the camp.

“I suggest you two quietly let the others know what’s going on so they don’t do something stupid on watch later.” Legend said choosing to ignore the look Time and Twilight shot each other. Instead he turned on his heel as he left to go watch Wild.

When Legend returned to the small camp he saw that Wild had attracted some attention. Sky was sitting crossed legged next to Wild and appeared to be having a one way conversation with him. As he chatted away Sky worked on carving what looked like a bird out of a small block of wood. Legend didn’t miss how Wild had subtly leaned away from Sky and how he eyed the knife in Sky’s hand with distrust.

Legend felt a pang of worry in his chest. He had the feeling that they didn’t fully realize the extent of the damage they had caused. If Wild was acting this wary of Sky, Sky of all people sitting next to him then… No, no, he wouldn’t let himself think that way. He didn’t even want to consider what that simple motion meant. Wild had come such a long way with trusting the group he couldn’t bare the thought of that being ruined.

Legend shook the thought away and went to sit on Wild’s other side. He left a few hand lengths between them as to not crowd the injured hero. He folded his arms across his chest leaned against the chilly wall behind him and gazed around the camp while keeping Wild in his peripheral vision.  

Four was sitting across from them head down as he focused all his energy on cleaning what looked like a leather strap of some sort. Warriors was leaning against the furthest wall talking animatedly with Twilight. Wind was sat just behind him knees to his chest and head resting on his arms and staring at nothing. Time was nowhere to be seen, most likely he was patrolling around the camp to make sure all was well. The early afternoon sun had began to sink slowly in the sky. The air was slowly growing chill with the oncoming night and he briefly considered grabbing a blanket to give to Wild.

After a few minutes of listening to Sky chatter on about nothing Legend shot another side eyed glance towards Wild. He still looked tense, his eyes subtly scanning each hero in turn before scanning the clearing around the camp. His shoulders were flat against the wall and a slight tremor rippled through his body. Wild’s breathing still sounded raspy and weak, and he looked like death warmed over. Wild picked at the splint around his arm absently as if he were thinking about ripping it off. Legend coughed quietly to get Wild’s attention.

“Stop picking at that, it needs to stay on until we know it’s healed.” Legend said sternly and Wild huffed but let his hand fall away from the splint instead opting for rubbing at his eyes. Legend could tell in the set of Wild’s jaw he was getting impatient to leave.

“You look tired, why don’t you get some sleep?” Sky asked quietly noticing the motion and giving Wild a concerned look. Wild only shook his head and raked his fingers through his tangled and slightly matted hair. Wild forced his jaw to relax before he resumed looking around at the assembled heroes. Sky’s brows furrowed and he set his carving down gently.

“We can keep watch while you rest…” Sky continued as he reached out a hand and lightly brushed against Wild’s shoulder. Wild flinched away violently at the contact, gasping in pain as he did so and clutched at his side. Sky stopped cold, a look of hurt flashed across his eyes before he withdrew his hand.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” Sky said quietly as he dropped his eyes to stare at the dirt. Wild’s eyes grew wide in dawning horror and his mouth opened and closed dumbly as his brain tried to catch up.

“Sky, I’m sorry, I didn’t” Wild gasped out quickly but Sky held up a hand.

“It’s quite alright, I understand. You’ve been through a lot today. I should have remembered that.” Sky said forcing a small reassuring smile on his face. Legend could tell Sky was hurt but was trying desperately not to show it and make Wild feel even worse. Sky stood slowly making sure to keep his hands where Wild could see them and collected his carving.

“I’ll leave you be for now, you need rest and I have some things I need to do anyway,” Sky said gently letting a warm and caring smile curl at the corners of his mouth. Wild didn’t make eye contact, only allowing for a curt nod before resting his head against the wall behind him and pulling his legs up towards his chest. Sky looked towards Legend then and gave him a quick nod before departing. Legend dropped his eyes back to Wild and he saw his throat bob as he swallowed hard.

“Stupid, why am I so stupid? What’s wrong with me?” Wild whispered so quietly to himself that Legend was sure that Wild hadn’t intended for him to hear. There was pain in his voice that Legend hadn’t heard from him before and he felt his heart strings give an dull thrum of sympathy.

Wild tended to be on the quieter side, well whenever he wasn’t running around and setting things on fire or doing something stupid in the name of fun. During quieter times, however, it was plain that the other hero often fell into his own thoughts. Though Wild took great pains in never calling attention to himself and his troubles no matter how many times the group had reassured him that he could trust them. As far as Legend knew Wild only really opened up to Twilight, though to Wild’s credit it did appear that he was trying to be more open with the group. Legend stared at him now, kicking himself for not seeing just how much Wild was hurting until now and for not knowing how to help.

“You aren’t stupid and there’s nothing wrong with you.” Legend said firmly and the look of wide eyed horror Wild gave him broke his heart. It was clear then that Wild hadn’t meant to be heard. Legend knew he wasn’t very good at comforting others so he didn’t even try.

“Don’t talk to yourself like that, you don’t deserve that.” Legend said firmly making sure Wild met his eyes. Legend didn’t even know Wild had the ability to get even paler than he already was but somehow he managed it. Wild’s blue eyes even seemed to pale and Legend worried that he was going to pass out.

“Are you okay, kid?” Legend asked quietly after a few minutes had passed and Wild still hadn’t moved besides the occasional blink. Apparently that was enough to break the spell and Wild wheezed out a faint laugh that held no mirth. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

“I’m tired Legend.” Wild breathed, his hands picked at his splint again and somehow Legend didn’t think Wild just meant physically tired. Legend nodded his head thoughtfully, waiting for Wild to elaborate his thought. When it was clear that he wasn’t going to continue he let out a huff of air to show that he understood what Wild had meant. Legend didn’t want to press him as it was clear that Wild had no desire to continue the thought. Instead Legend decided to ask something that was on his mind.

“You were up on that tower for a long time, I can guess that you weren’t alone up there. What happened? What did Dark say to you?” Legend asked and he knew he hit a chord. Wild’s breathing hitched and his incessant picking at the splint turned more frantic. Legend risked leaning over to Wild and put a hand on top of Wild’s forcing him to stop tugging at the bandage. Wild flinched and pulled away, curling tighter in ball, letting out a hiss of pain as he did so.

“How do you know he talked to me?” Wild said trying to deflect with a question. Legend snorted and pulled his hand away to rub at the back of his neck.

“Well judging on your reaction alone, it would seem that the son of bitch did a little more than just attack you outright. So what happened?” Legend pressed and Wild shook his head forcefully and his eyes grew hard as he carefully avoided Legend’s gaze.

“Fine, don’t tell me. But just know that Dark is a master at manipulation and he shouldn’t be listened to. I don’t know why he’s taken a shine to you, but you should be on your guard.” Legend warned gravely and he turned his attention back to the fire before adding almost as an after thought.

“You don’t have to face this alone, so don’t. You have nothing to prove to any of us and keeping things to yourself won’t help us destroy Dark.” There was thick silence as Wild mulled over his words and Legend prayed that he would listen and open up about what happened.

“Thank you Legend, I’ll keep that in mind.” Wild said appearing lost in thought. Legend sighed in defeat, he supposed that was all he could ask for right now.

“What’s the plan on packing up camp? It’s going to be dark soon and we don’t want to be caught out.” Wild said, apparently still dead set on leaving. Legend suppressed a cry of frustration, why did the kid have to be so stubborn?

“Soon I should think, Time made me promise that you would eat and drink something first and then we would work on packing up.” The lie slipped from Legend’s mouth so smoothly that it scared him. He saw Wild nod as he slowly forced himself to uncurl and relax. Legend stood stiffly and leaned back with his hands pressed against his lower back and cracked his spine.

“That’s fair, thank you for convincing him. I knew I could trust you.”

Legend felt a stab of guilt at his words. He couldn’t look at Wild, he didn’t want to see the hope that still sparkled faintly in his eyes.

“No problem kid, give me a few minutes to find something for you to eat.” He finally said and shuffled off to prepare his plan, knowing full well that whatever trust Wild still had in him was about to be broken in a million pieces.

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

Wild watched Legend leave and hoped that he would be able to find something edible, he didn’t like what he had seen in the cooking pot when they first got to camp. Wild sighed and felt his eye lids droop again as he rested his head back against the wall. He felt terrible, his whole body was one big bruise and he didn’t want to admit just how painful it was just to sit still. He forced himself to take another deep breath, and suppressed the cough that threatened to explode from his battered chest. He felt the rasp of his broken ribs rubbing together and it burned like fire and agony and he bit down on a groan as he shifted position.

He was fine, he had to be fine or he was defenseless. Wild felt his head dip forward, eyes falling closed in exhaustion before he jerked upright again, heart racing. He tugged at the splint and surreptitiously pressed his thumb into the deeply bruised skin. The pain that flared through his arm was enough to pull him away from sleep again. He didn’t need to sleep, he was fine! Better than ever, just a little sore that’s all. He scanned the camp again, keeping his eyes moving. He eyed the growing shadows with distrust, were those red eyes he saw? His heart raced and his breath hitched and he blinked rapidly to dispel the haze that hung at the edges of his vision. No eyes stared at him from the shadows but he kept his eyes moving, just to be sure.

“Hey Wild, how are you holding up?” Wild jumped at the sudden voice and whipped around to stare up at Warriors. The sudden movement made his ribs flair with pain and he sucked in a pained breath. Warriors winced in sympathy.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Warriors said apologetically holding his hands in front of him. Wild wrestled the fear down and forced what he hoped was an easy smile on his face. Judging on the look that graced Warriors face he missed the mark by a mile.

“Hey Wars, I’m fine. Just…lost in thought” Wild said picking at the splint once more. His mind was racing as he watched Warriors shuffle awkwardly. ‘He won’t hurt me, it was a trick, they didn’t know what they were doing’ Wild thought as he tried to sooth his frayed nerves. His hand continued to pluck at the splint, the small movements making little sparks of pain shoot up his arm.

“Oh, sorry to intrude. I uh just wanted to, uh…” Warriors started but seems to lose his train of thought. Wild raised an eyebrow and scratched absently at the bandage on his face. Warriors coughed and shuffled some more before he seemed to regain his nerve.

“Wild, I’m so sorry. About earlier today. We would have never…” Warriors started to say but a look at Wild’s pained face stopped him short once again.

“I know, I know you guys never would have attacked if you knew. Please don’t apologize, this wasn’t your fault.” Wild reassured the captain, he couldn’t stand hearing the pain in his voice. This wasn’t their fault, Wild knew this already. But there was still a part of him that still couldn’t help but flinch away from the others when they came too close. Warriors face was unreadable as he stared at him. Finally Warriors spoke once again seeming to find his words once more.

“It’s still no excuse, this still happened and I promise to make it right.” There was steel in his words and Wild had no doubt Warriors wouldn’t let this issue die anytime soon. Wild was too tired to argue and instead opted for a nod in lieu of answering.

“I’m glad we got that covered, you look like shit by the way. You really should consider getting some rest.” Warriors said folding his arms in front of him as he eyed Wild up and down. Wild gave him a flat look.

“Gee thanks Capt. I’m so glad you’re here to point out the obvious. You don’t look too good yourself. How’s your forehead?” Wild quipped and he was surprised to hear a chuckle burble out of the captain. Warriors rubbed his head lightly.

“Not too bad, I’ve got a slight headache, but no real damage thanks to my thick skull.” Warriors laughed. “I have to admit, you’re like a force of nature when you put your mind to it. I’ll have to keep my eye on you,” Warriors squinted one eye shut and looked at him with the other with an exaggerated grin. Wild knew that Warriors meant the comment in gest but he caught the under tone of wariness in his voice none-the-less.

“You weren’t too bad yourself, that flying tackle was a bit of cheat though.” Wild sniped back and Warriors snorted.

“You threw Legend’s fire rod at my face, you weren’t exactly playing fair either.” Warriors laughed and Wild shrugged with a little grin of his own and felt a little bit of tension bleed from him. In a way Wild was glad someone was actually talking about what happened this afternoon instead of just tiptoeing around the subject.

“How’s Four? I didn’t mean to hurt him that bad earlier.” Wild said suddenly serious and Warriors hummed as he looked over to the smithy.

“Four? He’s just fine. Hyrule gave him a fairy and he was right as rain.” Warriors said with a shrug gesturing over to the smallest hero. Wild couldn’t look at him, guilt twisted at his heart. Warriors noticing the other’s mood change jumped in quickly.

“Look, don’t feel bad. It’s not like he gave you much of a choice. Don’t beat yourself up about it, he understands” Warriors said softly as he stared off into the middle distance. Warriors fingers drummed on his folded arms for a moment. It was clear he was thinking about saying something but he was interrupted by Legend who finally returned with a plate of cheese and bread and what looked like a hot cup of tea.

“What are you meatheads talking about?” Legend asked gruffly as he sat roughly next to Wild.

“A bit of this and that, what do you have there?” Warriors asked eyeing the plate of food.

“Some bread and cheese, I had to take it from my pack considering the ‘eggs’ that Time made looked barely edible and I didn’t want to poison the kid on top of everything else.” Legend said as he thrust the plate into Wild’s hands.

“The eggs weren’t that bad,” Warriors said as if he was trying to convince himself more than them, and Legend rolled his eyes. Warriors smirked and pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on.

“I’m going to go out on patrol, enjoy your meal, Wild. Please consider getting some rest though.” Warriors said as he took his leave and left him to his meal. Wild looked at the plate for a moment, his stomach doing little nauseating flips. He wasn’t hungry in the slightest but he forced himself to eat anyway when he caught Legend’s expectant glare. Wild managed a few pieces of cheese and bread before he sat the plate down. The food tasted like nothing and just that little amount of food made his stomach churn unpleasantly in protest.

“Are you finished eating?” Legend asked as he eyed the remaining food on the plate. Wild nodded, he knew he hadn’t eaten much but he hoped it would be enough to satisfy Legend. After a moment of scrutiny Legend sighed clearly coming to a decision.

“I guess that’s enough for now. Here drink this.” He said as he pushed what appeared to be a warm cup of tea into Wild’s hands. Wild looked at the murky liquid quizzically, it was an odd shade of emerald green with little bits of what looked like leaves swirling in and out of view. He gave the tea a sniff and his nose wrinkled at the pungent smell of herbs.

“What is this?” Wild asked as he pulled the drink away from his nose.

“It’s tea, what you’ve never had tea before?” Legend asked defensively before raising an eyebrow. Wild huffed and rolled his eyes.

“I’ve had tea before, just not one this… pungent” Wild said as he looked down at the cup in his hands. “It also looks like swamp water.” He added as an after thought.

“For the love of the Goddess will you just drink it? I spent way too long trying to make it and I don’t want it to be wasted” Legend griped pinching the bridge of his nose in agitation. Wild made a face and hesitated a heartbeat before bringing the cup to his lips. To his relief the smell was the only unpleasant thing about it. Wild felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, it was slightly sweet and it soothed his aching throat as he drank.

“Huh, not bad. I thought that was going to be… a lot more gross.” Wild said with a yawn as he took another drink. The warmth of the tea was spreading through his limbs pleasantly, like the tendrils of lily pads on the surface of a pond. Wild felt the pain in his chest ease, and he smiled in relief. He continued to sip at the tea not noticing the subtle creep of fog that seemed to edge in around his thoughts and in his limbs making them feel ever so slightly heavier. When he finally felt his body beginning to slump back against the wall a dulled thrill of alarm rippled through his increasingly foggy brain.

“Wha’ is thi’? Wha’s happen’ng?” Wild slurred, and he found to his horror that his tongue refused to work properly. He felt his head lull and come to rest against the wall. His eye lids were suddenly leaden and it took a lot more effort to hold them open. Distantly he felt Legend grab the mostly empty cup from his quickly slackening fingers.

“It’s okay Wild, just relax and get some sleep.” Legend’s voice sounded far away, like he was underwater. Wild’s eye lids slid closed against his will and he had just enough cognitive thought to register the tug of betrayal before the immutable draw of dreams dragged him under.

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

Legend toyed with the cup in his hands, watching the last dregs of the sleeping potion infused tea swirl around the bottom. His mind wandered as he stared into the cup. He didn’t think the tea looked like swamp water at all, it was too clear, and shimmered prettily in the fire light. He sighed and didn’t move for several minutes, just sat and stared and swirled the tea.

After a long time he looked over at Wild’s sleeping form. He was slumped over, back against the wall and his chin had come to rest on his chest. Slow breaths and occasional twitch the only thing to prove that he was still alive. Legend felt an odd chill run through his form and he attributed it to the rapidly cooling air; unwilling to face what he had just sacrificed in the name of doing the right thing. He heard soft foot falls behind him but he didn’t bother to look.

“Oh good, he’s asleep. I guess you were right Legend. I’m sorry to have doubted you.” It was Twilight, voice sounding relieved. He moved to stand next to Legend’s side hands on hips as he looked at Wild’s sleeping form.

“It’s getting cold out, we should put him to bed.” Twilight said when Legend hadn’t said anything. He felt a hand pat his shoulder and it spurred him to life once more.

“Yeah, lets get him to bed” Legend said and even to himself his voice sounded hollow. Mechanically he put the cup down and went to help move Wild to his bedroll near the fire.

When Twilight leaned down next to his protégé he paused and sniffed the air. A hard look spread across his face as he leaned in close to Wild’s face and sniffed again his nose wrinkling. There was a moment of silence before Twilight got quickly to his feet and strode over to the cup Legend had been holding. He scooped it up and eyed it before lifting it to his nose to smell. Twilight froze then, holding the cup loosely in his hand and looked back to Wild. It didn’t take a genius to know that he put the pieces together. Legend braced himself for his fury, but was surprised when it didn’t come.

“You know he’s not going to trust you after this.” Twilight said quietly, and Legend felt a shard of ice pierce his heart at that simple statement.

“I am aware of that, and I wouldn’t blame him for it.” Legend said quietly as he moved to Wild’s side. He could feel the hot sting of tears in the back of his eyes. The guilt that had been strangling him all day compacted with his deception and made his breaths come out in sharp bursts. Twilight just nodded setting the cup down and moved to Wild’s other side and helped move him to his bed roll.

After a few minutes of awkward maneuvering they had Wild laid out on his bed roll. Twilight went to pull the blankets up but Legend stopped him. If this was the last time Wild was going to let him close to him he wanted to make sure everything looked alright.

“Let me check his stitches” Legend said and Twilight nodded and rested back on his heels. Legend unwrapped Wild’s leg first examining the line of perfect stitches. It looked a little swollen and slightly red but that wasn’t unexpected with fresh stitches. He changed the bandages quickly replacing the old potion soaked coverings with fresh clean padding. Once he was done he moved to the next.

Legend pulled the hem of the too large shirt up carefully making sure not to dislodge the bandages over Wild’s stomach. He could feel Twilight’s eyes on him as he worked but he said nothing, which to Legend was a small blessing. He wasn’t really up for conversation right then and he didn’t want to be distracted either. After a few minutes of gentle tugging the bandages came loose and he was able to lift the covering.

It stuck slightly to Wild’s skin and Legend furrowed his brow, that wasn’t a good sign. He removed the bandage completely and he heard Twilight suck in a breath through his teeth. The wound looked a lot more swollen and irritated. The skin around the stitches was bruised and delicate looking black spider webbing stretched out from the wound. Gently Legend brushed his fingers across the skin around the stitches and found it was hot to the touch. His jaw ached from clenching his teeth and he forced himself to stop.

“What the Hell is that?” Twilight whispered and Legend shook his head in disbelief.

“It looks infected, but I don’t even know how that should be possible. It’s barely been three hours since I stitched him up.” Legend said just as quietly before he started to pull at Wild’s shirt once more.

“Help me get his shirt up higher so I can check his chest.” Legend said and Twilight was there quickly helping him lift the shirt. Legend made quick work of the bandages and pulled off the covering on Wild’s side to be met with the same sight. Delicate black spider webbing, deep bruising and the surrounding area hot to the touch. Twilight and Legend shared a look of horror. What the Hell were they dealing with?

“What in the name of the Goddess?” Twilight breathed and Legend couldn’t help but agree. This was something he hadn’t seen before.

“Go get Time” no sooner had Legend said it then Twilight was gone leaving Legend alone with Wild. Legend felt frozen in place, he should have suspected something like this was going to happen, it was just their luck. He ghosted the back of hand across Wild’s forehead and was unsurprised to find it was hot.

Wild didn’t look great. He was still worryingly pale and the bruises stood out starkly on his chest. His breathing while still shallow, seemed to be okay for now but Legend knew it was temporary. The tea he had made Wild worked as a mild pain suppressant while also hopefully giving his body a little boost of healing. Legend had taken a bit of extra time brewing it, letting the leaves steep as long as possible to get the maximum effect before adding a few drops of a sleeping potion. It wasn’t nearly enough to knock him out with one sip, but Wild didn’t need much. Wild was so battered and ripped up that Legend didn’t even know how he stayed awake so long. In the end he just needed a little nudge to push his already overly exhausted body over to sleep.  

Wild gave out a little huff of air an odd look twisting his face for a moment as he shifted in his sleep. Wild’s hand lifted slightly like he was about to grab something before it fell limply back to his side face relaxing again into neutrality. Legend didn’t know what the kid was dreaming of, but he hoped it was pleasant. He deserved that much. Before he knew it he was surrounded by Time, Twilight and Warriors. He had no idea why the captain was there, maybe he was with Time when Twilight ran to get him and decided to tag along or maybe he felt compelled to help in whatever way he could.

“What’s going on?” Time asked as he bent lower to look from Legend’s stony face to Wild’s sleeping form.

“The wounds are infected already. And no, I don’t understand how this is possible.” Legend said quietly not looking away from the spidery black webbing. Legend couldn’t help but think this was his fault, maybe he didn’t clean the wounds well enough? He should have done more, should have been more careful.

“Is there anything we can do?” Time asked getting right to the point as usual. Legend shrugged, he felt heavy from the weight of the day and the feeling of failure and self-loathing.

“Mind if have a look?” Warriors asked and Legend scooted away allowing the other to squat down and examine the wounds for himself. Warriors said nothing for a long time, his eyes squinted in the dim lighting as he pondered.

“Do you think this could be the same thing that’s affecting the monsters?” Warriors said as he prodded the area around the stitches. At the touch Wild gave a little involuntary wince but didn’t move.

“I suppose it could be, but if that’s the case what do we do?” Time answered as he gently put a hand on Wild’s burning forehead. Warriors squinted clearly thinking.

“Well there has to be something. Legend can you tell me exactly what you did to treat these wounds? I heard from Twi that there were issues with healing him?” Warriors said directing his attention to Legend.

“Well, we gave Wild multiple different things to try to heal him. He got a fairy which stopped the bleeding from his stomach but didn’t heal it completely. I gave him a red potion and that only fixed some of his ribs and Hyrule’s magic only managed to just get his lung fixed.” Legend said as he recounted the events of that afternoon.

“Then we noticed he was covered in this black gunk and Time and I worked to clean it off the best we could. Then I stitched him up and put some red potion on the coverings to hopefully speed the healing but that clearly didn’t work.” Legend said bitterly. Warriors hummed again.

“Anything else?” Warriors asked and Legend racked his overtaxed brain before he snapped his fingers.

“Now that you mention it there is. I put a healing salve on the burns on his back and they actually started to heal.” Time raised an eyebrow clearly interested.

“They healed?” He asked and Legend nodded quickly and moved to turn Wild on his side  and tugged the shirt higher to get a look at his back. Legend gave a soft cry of relief as he saw the burns were mostly gone leaving shiny pink skin in their place.

“The burns are almost gone” Legend said with a small smile that struggled to reach his eyes. At least he managed to do something right. Warriors smiled clearly getting an idea.

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at though, what’s your idea?” Legend said, not exactly sure if he wanted to know what warriors had thought up. Before Warriors could respond however Twilight sucked in another breath.

“No, please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.” Twilight said his face looked drawn and pale in the fire light.

“You said the burns were healed right? Then why don’t we cauterize the wounds?” Warriors asked. Legend’s mouth fell open. He couldn’t be serious.

“And how is that going to help anything?” Legend asked incredulity lacing his words and making him sound petulant.

“You said the burns healed, so if we cauterize the wounds we could heal the burns and it will hopefully burn away the majority of whatever is making the wounds infected.” Warriors said confidently. Legend could only stare at him. He supposed he could see how that might work but he wasn’t convinced.

“That’s flawed logic at best! What if doesn’t even work?” Twilight snapped, hands flying in the air to emphasize his words. Legend could only nod, he was without words to even express how bad of an idea this was. Time was suspiciously quiet, his eyes were unreadable as he listened to Warriors and Twilight bicker back and forth.

“Well it’s a plan, you’ve got a better idea?” The captain retorted and Twilight snarled.

“We aren’t going to hurt him more, in the off chance that it’s going to heal him” Twilight growled as he stood up and Warriors rolled his eyes.

“I’m still not hearing a plan” Warriors snipped back standing to be face to face with Twilight. Legend saw the way Twilight’s hands balled into fists and he quickly stood as well to stop the inevitable fist fight.

“Hey, woah, this isn’t helping anything. As much as I would love to see War’s face when you knocked his lights out Twi, I have to agree with him, it’s a plan.” Legend said surprising himself with how firm he sounded, and he sincerely hoped he wouldn’t get punched for defending Warriors. Twilight’s stormy gaze fell on him and he glared back with his own hard look.

“We don’t have much else we could do here.” It was Time who answered softly and they all turned to face him. Through out the whole exchange he had been quiet and Legend could tell he didn’t like the choices laid before him. Twilight’s mouth fell open in shock for a moment before he closed it again.

“Time, you can’t be seriously considering this” Twilight said shaking his head fervently in denial.

“We don’t really have a choice pup. We can either do nothing in which case the infection will only worsen, or we could do something and possibly stop it or at least give Wild a fighting chance.” Time said a look of hard determination setting his features in a frown. Twilight’s jaw worked as he thought his way through Time’s argument his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. After a moment Twilight finally nodded.

“Fine. It seems like I’m outnumbered anyway. I just pray that you guys are right.” Twilight said bitterly jaw clenched as he walked to sit by Wild’s head. Twilight ran his fingers gently though Wild’s tangled hair and Legend could see anger mix with the defeat in his eyes.

The three other heroes exchanged determined nods and set about getting ready for the unpleasantness ahead. Time and Warriors made noises about telling the others what was happening, and making plans on who would be on watch first that night. Twilight refused to look at any of them and instead chose to work out some of the knots that had formed in Wild’s hair. Twilight had made it very clear he was against this plan in the way he sat hunched over and brooding. Legend heaved a heavy sigh, he didn’t have time care if Twilight was onboard or not. It was the only plan they had and he hoped for Wild’s sake it would work.

After about twenty minutes of gathering what they needed they were set to begin. Time sat next to Twilight quietly murmuring something to him as Twilight absently retied Wild’s hair into a ponytail making no move to show he was listening. Warriors sat next to Legend and handed him a dagger they would use to cauterize Wild’s wounds. Legend numbly and methodically cleaned the blade making sure it was as clean as possible to hopefully avoid anymore complications.

“We should wake him up” Legend said not looking up from his work.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Warriors asked as he looked down at Wild’s haggard face. His eyes moved rapidly under his eye lids as he slept.

“It would be better to have him awake and somewhat aware, then just burning the shit out of him and scaring him even more.” Legend explained as he put the dagger down and dug out the jar of salve and opened the lid. There was anxious shifting around him and he sighed.

“What are we going to do about the pain? Do you have anything to numb the area?” Time asked and Legend shook his head.

“Unfortunately no, I didn’t exactly stock up on supplies for this.” Legend said as he gestured to the knife, the half empty salve and fire rod that sat before him.

“I’m glad we’re going into this plan half assed.” Twilight snarked and Legend felt his tentative grasp on composure snap.

“Fuck off farm boy, we’re doing the best we can” Legend snapped right back and he took a small pleasure watching Twilight bristle.

“Stop the both of you, this isn’t helping” Time snarled at them both. Legend glared at Twilight for a moment before forcing himself to look away. He took a sharp inhale of breath to steady himself.

“Lets just get this over with.” Legend groused as he put a hand on Wild’s shoulder and shook him. It was time to get this over and done with.

***********

The sunlight bathed the world and Wild felt the cool breeze blow his hair into a tangled mess. He smiled before flopping down in the grass and stared up at the bright blue sky. It had been so long since he just enjoyed the pleasure of laying in the grass. He could smell the faint tingle of rain on the air but he didn’t care, he was warm and the sky was so blue. However as he laid there he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something, something very important. He racked his brain but came up with fog. The smell of rain grew heavier and he thought he could hear a faint crackle of thunder in the air.

“A shame that good things never seem to last” the small voice of a girl whispered regretfully in his ear. Wild sat up suddenly alert and whipped his head around to find the mysterious voice. He couldn’t see anything but the thick woods behind him and the steadily growing thunder heads in the distance that moved closer by the minute. Another giggle just behind him and he was on his feet staring straight into the trees. The gentle wind began to howl and the sky darkened to midnight as he tasted the tang of electricity in the air.

There was a sudden shrieking cry from the woods and without a second thought he darted into the trees. Wild followed the laughter as quickly as he could, leaping over fallen tree limbs and skirting around the thick underbrush with ease. As he moved through the ever thickening trees he could faintly hear what sounded like music floating in the air. The melody was soft and sweet, almost like a music box that a child would have in their room. The laughter grew louder and before he even realized it he burst through the trees and into a very small break in the trees.

There before him stood a girl in a simple white dress with puffy sleeves. She had blonde hair as golden as a sunset. Her hair was tied back in a low loose ponytail with a red hair band neatly placed on her head. Straight cut bangs covered her forehead and her eyebrows. She had crystal blue eyes that turned darker blue around her pupils. There was a light smile playing on her lips as she rocked back and forth on her heels and stared at him. From what Wild could tell she looked about eight or nine if she was a day, and she didn’t seem to be dangerous though he knew from experience that looks could be deceiving.

Wild gave her a quick once over checking for any hidden weapons but found nothing. The girl noticed this and she tilted her head and gave him a quizzical look. Wild felt a pang of protectiveness when he looked at her. Panic raced through his brain as he quickly tried to figure out just why that was but found nothing but fog again.

“It’s been a long time Link. I’ve missed you.” The girl said her voice laced with a sadness he couldn’t understand.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t… Do I know you?” Wild asked and the girl pressed her lips together. She smiled sadly before she answered.

“Maybe one day you’ll know me again. But that’s not important right now.”

Wild felt a pull at his heart and realized with a start that he was about to cry. He didn’t understand, what was happening? Why did he feel so sad? The girl must have noticed his distress because she put her hands up in supplication.

“It’s alright, please don’t be upset.” She soothed and took a step forward but stopped when Wild instinctively took a step back. She put her hands down and backed away again.

“Please don’t run away, I have to warn you and time is short.” The girl said quietly a note of desperation creeping into her words. Wild took a steadying breath and nodded. The girl gave him an encouraging smile and Wild found himself returning it with his own hesitant smile.

“You are in danger.” She started but stopped when Wild snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Hah, tell me something I don’t know.” Wild said and gave her another smile but it faded when he saw the pained look on her face.

“I’m sorry, but it may be worse than you realize” she said quietly her eyes dropping to stare at the dirt below her. Wild stiffened but said nothing waiting for her to continue. After a moment she looked up and her blue eyes seemed to sparkle with unshed tears.

“Darkness has a string around your heart, if left unbroken it will control you. It’s trying to bind you even now as we speak.” She said gesturing weakly at Wild’s chest. He looked down and found to his horror that a spider web of black lines were spreading across his chest. He tried to wipe it away but it didn’t move. The sight filled him with fear, and he could almost feel the creeping darkness spreading. Wild felt a tug at the back of his heart and he turned around to see what looked like a wispy black thread disappear into the darkening woods behind him. A cold dread filled his stomach and he turned around to face the girl again questions dying on his lips as he looked at her serious face.

“Your fellows are working on a plan to help you as much as they can but it will only help so much. The rest is up to you.” She said and Wild could feel the world around him begin to shimmer and shift slightly. Cracks appeared like a broken mirror around him making the forest shift out of alignment.

“I don’t understand” Wild said desperately and he could feel panic making his words come out in a rush. “What do I do?” There was another tug from behind him and he gasped at the pressure. The world was starting to turn white around him and the cracks widened.

“Do what you’ve always done Link, fight. Hold on tightly to your light and I know you will succeed.” She said as she was slowly engulfed in the light filling the air.

“Wait! Who are you? Who…” but the world was gone and pain once again slammed into his body with the force of a guardian’s laser. He opened his eyes sluggishly to the darkened camp and the sound of someone talking to him.

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

“Hey, kid. Come on, wake up.” Wild heard someone say gently and he struggled to open his eyes again. Absolutely everything hurt and he needed a moment to gather his scattered thoughts.

“Is he okay?” He heard someone ask and someone else, he assumed was Legend answered.

“Wars, every time you speak you make me want to beat my own skull in” there was a poorly hidden chuckle from his other side and Wild forced his eyes open.

“I’m just peachy” Wild finally wheezed out groggily and just the act of speaking through his impossibly sore throat made him want to choke. He raised his hand and rubbed his sore throat and made to sit up.

“Woah there Cub, let me help you” it was Twilight, and Wild felt his warm  hands gently grab under his arms and helped him sit up. Wild’s head spun sickeningly and he felt his stomach roil like he was about to be sick. He closed his eyes again and waited for the feeling to pass. He felt Twilight rub gentle circles on his back and the motion made him queasy. Wild raised his hand in a silent gesture to make him stop and Twilight complied.

Wild felt sick, his head throbbed painfully and his sight was blurred at the edges. His ribs ached badly but they weren’t as bad as before and he assumed that was thanks to the tea Legend gave him earlier. He was still mad about the tea but he had other pressing issues to handle first.

“I think, there’s something wrong with me” Wild finally slurred after he regained control over his guts. He looked around to the small group around him and noted their grave expressions.

“We were just about to tell you that ourselves cub.” Twilight said quietly leaning forward to be in Wild’s line of sight.

“I checked your wounds, they look infected.” Legend said tersely and Wild spared him a quick look before looking down at his stomach. He could see bruised skin and spidery black lines extending out from the stitches and a quick glance to his side only offered the same sight.

“So that’s what she meant” Wild muttered quietly as he assessed the problem with his half dazed brain. He rubbed his face with his hands, why couldn’t life be easy?

“Whose she?” Time asked and Wild just shook his head in an attempt to dispel the cobwebs.

“If I knew, I would tell you.” Wild sighed lifting his face out from his hands to look towards Time. “All I know is that this girl in my dream warned me about some sort of ‘darkness wrapped around my heart’ and how I needed to hold on to my ‘light?’” Wild explained tiredly and grew worried when he saw dread flit across Time’s face.

“Wrapped around your heart?” Time questioned and Wild shrugged.

“I don’t really understand it myself but I can assume I’m not going to have a fun time.” Wild concluded as his weary eyes finally alighted on the objects next to him.

“Get me up to speed, what exactly is going to happen” Wild sighed heavily when no one said anything.

“The plan basically is this, we cauterize your infected wounds and then heal the burns left behind.” Warriors answered and Wild felt like he was going to pass out. He had cauterized wounds before and he knew just how painful the process was. Wild swallowed hard suddenly more awake and aware as panic flooded his system. He felt his eyes widen and he struggled to breathe as he tried to stuff the panic down.

“Are you positive that’s the only way to heal this infection?” Wild asked not really knowing what answer he was expecting.

“It’s the only thing we could think of. The burns will most likely be easy to heal if the burns on your back are anything to go by.” Legend explained and Wild gave him a hard look and turned towards Time and Twilight.

“And what do you say?” Wild asked searching their eyes for any hint of hesitation.

“I think it’s our best shot” Time answered meeting Wild’s eyes with unwavering determination.

“And you Twi?” Wild asked when the other hadn’t answered.

“I was against it, but unfortunately I can’t think of another way to help.” Twilight said bitterly and Wild let out a defeated sigh and nodded.

“Fine, do what you must.” Wild groaned, he just wanted this to be over but he knew this was only going to get worse before it got any better. The group around him nodded and started to get things ready. Legend moved close to Wild’s side and lifted a small pair of scissors. Wild made to move away but Legend just grabbed his arm.

“Don’t move, I have to open these back up” Legend explained quietly not meeting Wild’s eyes. Wild pulled his arm away angrily. There was a tense moment where he wanted to push Legend away, demand someone else do it but he bit his tongue and stayed still, resisting the urge to scowl.

Legend swallowed hard as Wild ripped his arm away but said nothing. His nimble fingers worked quickly at snipping away the thread and gently pulling the wound open again. Wild’s head spun again and he hadn’t realized he was tipping over until he felt Twilight steady him. Gods but he felt awful, as time passed he noticed his chest was hurting more and more and he wanted to cry. But he held in his misery, and he told himself that he had had worse and to suck it up.

After his side was opened back up Legend moved to Wild’s stomach. Wild watched Legend carefully as he worked and felt a hard pit of anger settle nicely in his gut. Legend didn’t even bother to say anything as he went, and Wild made no move to start a conversation. Instead he chose to look around camp.

Sky was sitting across from them, apparently watching the goings on with a hard look in his eyes that melted when he noticed Wild’s stare. Sky raised a hand in an awkward wave and Wild offered a tired smile in return. He was going to have to figure out a way to apologize to Sky for his rudeness earlier. Wild continued to look around the camp. Hyrule was still asleep in his bed roll, his soft snores the only thing Wild could hear from the pile of blankets that obscured the sleeping hero. He became slightly alarmed when he couldn’t find Wind or Four amongst the group.

“Hey where are Four and Wind?” Wild asked suddenly and he could hear a note of worry in his own voice that made him wince.

“They’re on watch, we wanted to make sure everyone was paired up for watch tonight.” Warriors answered from where he sat. The fire rod was glowing a bright red and he was heating the blade over it. Wild swallowed hard at the sight and looked away.

“Everything is going to be okay cub, we’ll figure this out,” Twilight said noticing how Wild was beginning to fidget in agitation.

“But how do you know? How am I supposed to know what to expect, or how to fight whatever this is?” Wild asked softly gesturing towards his chest. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was more than a little anxious about what was to come.

“You’ll do fine, you’ll just have to take it one step at a time.” Twilight said nudging Wild gently.

“We’ll be here to help where we can as well, you can count on us” Time added firmly patting Wild’s leg. Wild gave a shaky breath and nodded. He felt warmth spread across his heart and he relaxed ever so slightly.

“Alright, I think we’re ready to get this done” Warriors finally declared as he eyed the blade. It wasn’t white hot or even red but Wild was all too familiar with the scent of heated metal. Wild felt whatever warmth that had spread through him die out and be replaced with cold dread. He couldn’t speak through his panicked strangled throat and suddenly dry mouth so he nodded instead. Carefully he laid back down and took a shaky breath. He felt Twilight grab his hand and squeeze gently reminding Wild that he was still there. Wild closed his eyes shut tightly and braced himself.

“Okay, try not to move away. You can do this.” Warriors said encouragingly before he brought burning blade close and pushed it against the raw skin of the wound on Wild’s stomach.

White hot pain flashed in his vision and Wild gritted his teeth so hard he thought his was going to break a tooth. He squeezed Twilight’s hand forcefully and Wild was dimly aware his mentor was speaking to him but he couldn’t risk answering him right then. Wild was unwilling to cry out, unwilling to show anymore weakness.

He sucked in pain gasps and squinted his eyes tighter shut. He hated that he heard a whimper escape his throat and he hated the tears rolling down his cheeks. He was stronger than this damn it and he was determined not cry out. Finally the blade was removed and Wild was left panting and shaking. Legend was there quickly applying salve to burn and covering it with a fresh bandage. Darkness was clawing at the edges of his vision and he battled them back the best he could.

“You’re doing great, just one more to go.” Warriors said encouragingly and patted Wild’s leg before handing the blade over to Legend to clean and get ready for the next wound.

“How are you holding up cub?” Time asked as he leaned down to get a better look at Wild’s face. Wild sucked in another breath and held it for a moment ignoring the pain in his chest and released it slowly.

“I’m okay” Wild finally gasped out and there was snort from his mentor.

“Yeah, say that to my poor hand” Twilight joked and shook out his hand with mock pain. Wild gave a weak humorless chuckle and closed his eyes trying to stop the trembling that he could feel building in his chest. He wasn’t going to cry, he refused. No one spoke for a long time and Wild felt his mind begin to drift.

“Wild, we’re ready if you are” Time asked softly and Wild jumped. He forced his eyes open again and nodded jerkily. Just one more, he could handle this. Gritting his teeth he turned on his side and covered his face with his arm. He felt Twilight grab his other hand again and with one more shaky breath he gritted his teeth and squeezed Twilight’s hand as a signal that he was ready.

When the blade touched him this time he couldn’t stop a small cry from forcing itself from in between his teeth. Tears quickly followed and he felt himself curling in on himself. the air left his lungs and he was left with nothing but pain to replace it.

“Breathe cub, you gotta breathe” Time said as he put a hand on Wild’s knee. Wild was trying to suck in a breath but he found that he couldn’t, his lungs just wouldn’t comply. He could hear himself gasping but he couldn’t feel the relief of air filling his lungs.

“Almost done, just a little more.” Wild heard Warriors say but it was distant. His world was shrinking down to a pin point and he couldn’t breathe. Just as Wild thought he was going to pass out the burning hot blade was finally lifted away and was replaced with a cool and soothing balm.

Finally he sucked in another gasp of air and this time he could feel it in this lungs. He coughed and hacked and he curled in tighter on himself as the pain from his broken ribs registered in his brain again. He felt himself begin to shake, and sweat rolled down his forehead. Finally the coughing fit passed and he moved his arm away from his face once he regained a little of his composure. Wild rolled over onto his back and rubbed at his face with his shaky hands.

“Well that sucked” Wild wheezed out weakly after a few moments and he heard Warriors chuckle and felt him pat his boot.

“You handled it like a champ though.” He replied and to Wild’s surprise he felt a weak smile spread across his face.

“Thanks Wars, could someone help me sit up?” Wild asked as he felt the heady rush of adrenaline and endorphins course through his body and he lifted a hand out into open air. The firm calloused hand of Time grasped his and pulled as he felt Twilight behind him supporting his back. Once he was sitting up again Wild awkwardly tugged at the edges of the shirt and pulled it down to cover the new bandages.

“So now what?” Wild asked looking around to the group.

“Well You’re going to rest now, and no, this isn’t up for debate. You’ve been through enough today and an hour of sleep means nothing.” Time said sternly when Wild had opened his mouth to protest.

“But I can help, I’m okay” Wild began weakly but tapered off at the look on Time’s face. He felt Twilight’s hand snake around from behind his back and press against his forehead.

“You’ve still got a fever cub, and that’s not to mention that you’re clearly exhausted.” Twilight said leaning forward to look into Wild’s tired eyes. “And don’t even say you’ve had worse, I don’t care. I’ll sit on you if I have to.” Twilight growled as he glared at Wild and he knew there wasn’t anything he could do.

“Like it or not, we’re here for the night. We’ll see how you feel in the morning and then we’ll go from there.” Time finished as he stood clearly done with the conversation. Wild bit down on his frustration, they were right of course and he hated it.

“Legend, Warriors I suggest you get some rest as well, you’re next on watch.” They both nodded and made their way to set up their bed rolls.

“What about you and Twi?” Wild asked and Time just sighed.

“That’s none of your concern. You just focus on feeling better.” Time said as he turned and walked away. Wild felt his frustration slowly building to a fever pitch. He wanted to scream but instead opted to pick at the splint on his arm again. He felt useless and deep down he knew it was foolish to feel that way. If he was honest with himself he did feel terrible. His head throbbed in rhythm with his pulse and his stomach felt on the verge of rejecting his small meal from earlier. The spurt of energy that had coursed through him not moments before was fading quickly opening his nerve endings back up to register the full body ache again. And that wasn’t even taking into account that whatever Legend had given him earlier was clearly wearing off. He could feel the pain slowly trickling back into every inch of this body. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was letting everyone down.

“Cub, why don’t you lay down? I promise I’ll make sure you’re safe” Twilight said gently and Wild gave a very small nod and slowly laid down again. There wasn’t any point in trying to explain that he wasn’t just worried about his own safety, he was worried about everyone else. He couldn’t explain it but he was sure that somewhere in the darkness that surrounded them, there was a shadow watching them all and taking a sick glee in planning his next move.

[ellewritesathing]

(Un)Requited  -  I.L. II

Summary: Isaac Lahey had gone through many twists and turns in his life, but none of them compared to the whiplash he got when you asked him to tutor you. With a few weeks until the end of the semester and the big dance coming up, he’s hoping to figure out a way to ask you to go with him before it’s too late.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 2

Word-count: 3.3k+

A/N: i’m sorry for taking forever to update this but!! here we are!! i hope you guys enjoy it!! 💕💕

“Life coaching?” Derek repeated, looking up from his book for the first time all morning. He hadn’t interrupted Isaac once or shown any sign that he was listening, and then all he said was two words.

Isaac tried to be offended by his tone, but honestly, the idea was a little ridiculous. He couldn’t blame Derek for thinking it was a dumb idea, especially after hearing thousands of dumb ideas from Erica and Boyd over the years.

“Yes. Life coaching,” Isaac said, folding his hands neatly in his lap. 

“I think it’ll be good for him,” Erica said, grabbing an apple off the table. She started cutting it with a knife as she spoke, “I mean, it’s obvious that his life is in shambles.” 

“Hey!” Isaac said defensively. It was true but she didn’t need to say it. 

Erica shrugged and offered him a slice of her apple. 

“Yeah, that was a little harsh,” Boyd said as he slid his oatmeal bowl away from him. Isaac was going to thank him but then he continued, “It’s only obvious to us because we live with him.” 

“Hey!” Isaac whined. 

Erica laughed and ate a slice of her apple, talking through her full mouth and offering cut pieces to Boyd. Their lighthearted bickering soon devolved into a fight, with threats of claws coming out and knowing comments about what would happen when the other slept. Isaac tried to be cool and calm about it, but Erica knew exactly how to push his buttons. 

“Look, it doesn’t matter what you guys think anyway,” Isaac said eventually, arms crossed over his chest and breakfast untouched. “I’m doing it.” 

Before Erica could snap at him, Derek got up and drew all the attention to himself. “Is it going to interfere with our plans?” 

“No,” Isaac answered immediately. At least he didn’t think it would. 

“Then do it…” Derek locked eyes with Isaac over an empty bowl of cereal that he was clearing away “-quietly.” 

Isaac figured he must have pulled a face because all three of them started laughing and Derek was telling him to lighten up and that he was making a joke. He had to pretty wound up if Derek I-Never-Smile Hale was telling him to lighten up, but Isaac picked up what he meant: Isaac could spend all the time he wanted with you, but his duty to his pack came first. 

Like you would ever want to get close enough to him to interfere with the pack, but a guy could dream. 

---

The week could not have possibly gone by any slower, but eventually it ended and all Isaac had to do was wait it out until Monday ended (which took forever). Then it would be Tuesday. Then he could talk to you again, because then it would be the first of hopefully many tutoring sessions.

The fact that Isaac planned all this out was kind of embarrassing - and he knew he could never plan enough when it came to you because you made him act like an even bigger idiot than he already was  - but is it so bad that he wanted to be prepared? That he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you? 

Now that he was sitting next to you, though, Isaac realized that he would never be prepared for you and he would never not embarrass himself. You were sitting next to him, looking like you just stepped out of a magazine shoot to boost literacy in teens; hands covered in ink, messy eraser shavings on the ends of your sweater, and deep lines of concentration on your face. And he couldn’t stop staring. It was embarrassing. 

“I’m not getting it,” you said in a quiet voice. You sighed and sat back in your seat, clearly frustrated. “I’ll just marry up. I hear trophy wives never need to do algebra.” 

Isaac laughed. “You’re not gonna be a trophy wife,” he said. He thought that would make you feel better but you raised an eyebrow at him. “Uh, I mean, of course you’ll be a trophy wife. You’re really hot- I mean. Anyone who ends up with you will be- I just meant that, you know, you’ll get this. You don’t have to-” 

Now it was your turn to laugh. And though he panicked at first, your laugh eased all of Isaac’s worries and he relaxed into his seat … until you put your hand on his arm and sat up. You looked at him with kind eyes and made his heart beat out of his chest. “Show me again?” you asked with a smile.

“Yeah, sure,” Isaac said once he started breathing again. “Okay, so-” he took the pencil out of your hand “-The problem you have is that you don’t carry over your coefficients. See? Like this.” 

When Isaac stole a glance at you out of the corner of his eye, you were biting your lip as you stared at his messy handwriting. Logically, he understood that you were trying to figure out the problem but irrationally he was cursing out his dad for breaking his hand because he was wasting too much time drawing comics. His handwriting had never recovered and he was convinced that you were staring at it and not the numbers on the page. 

“Okay, coefficients. Got it,” you said with a small nod after a few seconds that felt like lifetimes. “And I add them?” 

“No. Multiply.” 

“Huh.” You got so quiet that Isaac could hear you breathing. He could do that before thanks to his super-senses, anyway, but you were so close now. It was different. It made him more flustered when you were inches away. 

You reached over his arm for the hand that was holding the pencil and Isaac almost passed out. Were you trying to hold his hand? No, you were writing something. Should he let go? What was the protocol for this? 

“Like this?” you asked when you were done, not noticing his existential crisis. 

“Uh…” Isaac looked down and pretended to pay attention. Your handwriting looked perfect, but then again everything you did was perfect to him. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s perfect!” 

“I did it?” you asked, frowning at the page. Isaac laughed and nodded, mumbling something encouraging that he didn’t pay attention to. “I did it!” You let go of his hand and lifted both of your hands in the air in surprise. It was adorable. You were adorable.

“You did it,” Isaac smiled. He sat up straighter and started flipping to another section in the textbook. “Ready to tackle something new?” 

“No.” The words came out a little too fast and Isaac smiled at you again. “I just mean … I should practice this some more before we go on, right? Just to make sure.” 

Isaac closed the book and shrugged lightly as he leaned back in his chair. “If that’s what you want, then sure.” 

You laughed slightly at him and pushed some hair behind your ear. “You’re so sweet, Isaac. Thanks for this.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Isaac said. His voice had dropped to a quieter volume and you held his gaze for a few seconds. He wasn’t sure what he did but it felt like time slowed down for that split second. Isaac would have given anything to know what you were thinking.

You spent the next fifteen minutes doing practice problems, and Isaac spent that time trying to focus on his English assignment - a task made undoubtedly more difficult whenever your knee accidentally brushed his leg. Who cared about Hamlet and his mommy issues when you were right there? 

“Okay! Done!” 

You beamed as you slid the piece of paper over to him. Your smile fell as Isaac started checking your answers, but he could have told you that you had nothing to worry about. Even if every answer was wrong, you’d get it eventually.

After checking them all, Isaac looked up at you and smiled at how anxious you were. You were biting your lip and your eyes were double the size as you waited for him to give his verdict. 

“You’re going to be putting me out of business soon,” Isaac said, looking back down at the paper and sliding it over to you. 

You laughed again and Isaac felt his heart melt in his chest. He’d be dead by the time finals week came around.

“Speaking of business,” you said as you let out a breath after filing the practise questions. You shifted in your chair to look at him, drumming your fingers on the table lightly. “When do you want to get together for me to teach you about girls?” 

Your tone was playful but there was something in your voice that Isaac couldn’t place. That uncertainty, coupled with the fact that he’d forgotten that he asked you to do that, resulted in Isaac staring at you with wide eyes and a stumped expression. 

He realised he had to say something so Isaac sputtered out the first words that came to his mind. “Friday? After school?” 

“Don’t you have lacrosse practice then?” you asked. Isaac frowned slightly; he didn’t know that you knew he was on the team. 

“Oh, right. That,” Isaac said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. You laughed again and Isaac used that time to think of something to say. The weekend felt too far away to suggest it. Even if it was just a day later than Friday. 

“I’ll tell you what,” you said with a smile as you started packing away your things. “I’ll sit in the stands while you practice. You can check my homework when you’re done. And then we can go to my place to talk things through. Sound good?” 

“Sounds great,” Isaac exhaled. He couldn’t believe this was working or that you offered to sit through his lacrosse practise and then spend the rest of the afternoon with him. 

“Perfect,” you smiled. You got up and shouldered your backpack, throwing a smile at him over your shoulder. “See you at practice, Lahey.”

God, did you just wink at him?

Isaac watched you walk away, and - once he deemed the distance to be enough - he slumped down in his chair and groaned. He was in way over his head. And he was only digging himself deeper. How was he going to get through practice without taking a ball to the face if he knew you were watching?

--- 

Lacrosse practice was going surprisingly well considering that Isaac had a heart attack every time he looked at the stands and saw you cheering him on instead of doing your homework. At least, Isaac thought it was going well until he saw the look on Coach’s face. 

“Lahey! What the hell has gotten into you?” 

The whole team was jogging back to the bench to be dismissed, and Isaac didn’t think he was that bad during the practice to warrant getting called out. Greenberg sucked way more than he did and Stiles can’t play for shit.

“Uh, I had something different for breakfast?” Isaac said uncertainly, turning his lacrosse stick over on itself as he spoke.

Coach looked at him like he was insane. Worse, actually: like he was Greenberg. But then he said, “Well, whatever that was you better keep eating it! You hear me? You were great out there!” 

“I was?” 

“This is why I’m not nice to any of you.” There was that glare again as Coach pointed his finger accusingly at Isaac. He shook his head and threw his arm in the direction of the locker rooms. “Hit the showers! You all stink!” 

Isaac started heading that way when he saw you running down the bleachers with a notebook in your hands. His heart beat faster than when he thought Coach was going to kick him off the team.

“You were great!” You were beaming at him again. “I think. I know more about algebra than I do lacrosse.” 

Isaac laughed. “Well, maybe I could show you how to play sometime,” he said with a small smile. He felt strangely at ease now that you were next to him. 

“I’d like that,” you smiled, voice quiet again but still smiling. “Uh, do you want to check this before or after you shower?”  

“I can do it now.” Isaac sat on the bench and read through your practice problems. “You missed a few but most of them are good. Solid B- work.” 

"B-?” you repeated. 

Isaac’s heart spiked. Was he supposed to lie to get you to like him? Was he supposed to just say everything was right?

“That’s great!” You took the notebook and pencil, staring at the ones Isaac had marked wrong. You didn’t even look up at him when you spoke next. “Go shower, I’ll be right here when you’re done!”

Though Isaac was confused and a little distrusting while he showered and changed, he still felt good about the interaction. It was the first time you two had spoken and he hadn’t stuttered - that was a start. 

True to your words, you were sitting on the team bench when Isaac came out. You'd swapped the algebra homework for a book in the time he was gone and you didn't seem to notice him until he was right next to you. 

“Pride and Prejudice,” Isaac said after reading over your shoulder. “The one with Keira Knightley is my favourite.”

“Mine too.” You looked up at him with a smile and closed the book. Your cheeks looked slightly flushed, but that was probably from all the sun and nothing he’d done. It was gone an instant anyway. “Are you ready to go?”

Isaac nodded and you got up, shouldering your bag. He picked up the notebook that was lying next to your bag and held onto it as the two of you walked towards your car. 

“You carry my books, you’re smart, and like Pride and Prejudice?” you asked, nudging him with your elbow and giving him a smile. “Why do you need me to impress your dream girl? You seem like a real catch to me already.”

Isaac didn't know how to respond so he laughed and scratched the back of his head, mumbling something about not being so sure about that. He was quiet for most of the drive to your house, just stealing glimpses of you as you hummed along to the radio and giving you a quick thank you for giving him a ride when you stopped in the driveway. 

He stayed a few steps behind you as you walked up to the front door and unlocked it. You let him in and dropped your bag inside, shaking off your jacket and kicking off your shoes. You said he could do the same, if he was comfortable, and flashed him another heart-stopping smile. 

“I’ve just gotta feed Max,” you said. “Do you want something from the kitchen?” 

“Just some water,” Isaac said politely. 

“Sure thing.” 

You motioned for him to follow and he did. Isaac watched as you filled up a bowl with dog food, and no sooner had you set it down had an Australian shepherd come bounding around the corner and into your leg. 

“Hey, buddy,” you laughed, rubbing his back. “This is Isaac. He’s gonna be hanging around for a bit, okay? Hey, you’re not allergic to animals, right? It’s probably a little late to ask.” 

“Me? Oh, uh, no. Don’t worry about it.” Isaac smiled and bent down to stick his hand out but Max didn’t like that. He barked and you jumped. 

“Max!” You reprimanded him and tugged on his collar to keep him close to you. “Buddy, come on. Isaac’s a friend.” 

Max simmered down so, after apologizing a few times and offering to take him to the yard, you turned to grab some glasses from the cupboard and Isaac decided to make his move. The only way to get Max to cut it out was to show him who he really was. So, while your back was turned, Isaac flashed his bright yellow eyes at the dog and watched his demeanor change. 

Max let out a small whimper before padding over and curling up around Isaac’s feet. 

“See, buddy, I knew you’d like him,” you said happily when you turned to find Isaac and Max. You handed Isaac his water and crouched to pet Max. Looking up at Isaac, you said, “I’m so sorry. Max is usually never like that with strangers.” 

Isaac smiled, relieved that you didn’t suspect anything. “Yeah, no worries. We’re all good now.” 

“Yeah, you are.” You smiled at him again and rubbed Max one last time before standing up and getting ready to walk out of the kitchen. “I was thinking we could just go to my room and talk for today?” 

“You, uh- your room?” Isaac repeated, immediately reverting back to being nervous. He knew you obviously didn’t mean anything by it, but still. Erica and Cora were the only girls whose rooms he’d ever been in, and they both tried to kill him before he made it two feet in the door.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep the door open,” you said with a mischievous smile and Isaac mentally slapped himself for being so awkward. Then you added while the two of you were walking, “Plus, it’s not like anyone else is home,” and he tripped up the stairs. 

Luckily you didn’t say anything about his literal and figurative misstep. 

Isaac figured if he could just stop his heart from beating out of his chest, he might actually have a shot at pulling this off. That is, until he walked into your room and saw possibly the biggest, fluffiest, and angriest cat he’d ever seen. If Max had been a challenge, this cat would be a near impossible feat to get over. 

Isaac hovered at the door, not taking his eyes off the cat. “You have a cat?” 

“Oh, yeah.” You set your glass down and walked over to the bed, scooping up the ball of fluff. The cat made an upset sounding noise at being woken up, but started purring as soon as it realised it was in your arms. Jesus, that thing had to be bigger than your entire torso. “This is Magnus. I got him when Alex went off to college.” 

“Oh.” 

“You wanna pet him?” you asked, pulling increasingly adorable faces at the cat. You laughed when Magnus bonked his head into yours. “He’s a little grumpier than Max but he’ll warm up to you just the same.” 

“Uh, sure,” Isaac lied. He reached out a tentative hand and Magnus swatted it away, claws and all. He made a low growling noise and leapt out of your arms. 

“Ow!” You winced as Magnus jumped, clearly not expecting the abrupt motion. “Oh, my god, Isaac. Are you okay?” 

You reached for Isaac’s hand and he almost blacked out. The jolt of electricity that started where your fingers grazed his hand and spread through the rest of his body surprised him. You were holding his hand in both of yours, inspecting it gently.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t think he got me,” Isaac said quietly. You were so focused that speaking any louder felt wrong. 

It also felt wrong to lie to you. Technically, Magnus had scratched him but it wasn’t deep so, in the seconds it took you to process what happened, the scratch had healed. Isaac was perfectly fine now.

You were still frowning at his hand, though, and Isaac worried he’d done something to mess it all up, that you could somehow sense he was lying. 

“Hey,” Isaac said gently, turning his hand around so he was the one holding your hand. Aside from the minor cardiac attack it caused, it felt good. Meant to be. “I’m fine. Promise.” 

“I could’ve sworn he scratched you,” you said, equally gentle and quiet. You shook your head and laughed under your breath. “You think I’m crazy now, don’t you?” 

“There is literally nothing you could tell me that would make me think you’re crazy,” Isaac laughed. If you knew half the stuff he’d seen since joining Derek’s pack … 

You gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand before pulling away. “So, you wanna get started?”

Part 3

Tagged: @ietss​  @lettherebelovex​