#i want to ask so badly but i have nothing but fear and paranoia in my soul ☹️

[hollowporcelain]

what if i [remembers suicide jokes only concern the people around me] go for a walk or something

[fluff-n-cookies]

more dad dabi head content?! you write it so welllll🥺🥺🥺

*sighs.* It's been a long day for me so im coping by speedrunign this. thanks for requesting, I appreciate you interacting with me more so than the usual like or comment.

Author notes under the cut as well as links

Warnings: FLUFF (mostly, 90%), not proof read, SPOILERS, minor swearing.

reader has blue eyes like Dabi's (she's a toddler, 3-4 years old)

Dabi calls reader bunny, Dabi is addressed as "Daddy"

---

Dabi would be such a good dad you cannot tell me otherwise.

I mean sure, some times he forgets things, that you have school the next morning, and most days he feels like shit for not being able to rent a proper apartment to house you in; forcing you to live in this tiny cupboard of drywall and rotten carpet because he simply can’t afford better. Yeah sure, he sometimes loses his temper and tells you to go wait in your room when he has his "coworkers" over or when the bad man is on TV. But the moment he sees discomfort, prickles of tears in your eyes

He will shut the ever loving fucking up and back away.

But I think what makes him the best dad is his undying will to protect you, usually from himself. He'll lock himself in his own room or take it out on civilians and other villains before even thinking about coming to you in such a god awful state.

however it's also important to note that he'd do just as heinous things if he finds something that's more of a threat then himself. AKA, Endeavor.

(I just realized that by typing the rest of this paragraph, I'd be spoiling the plot of part three, forget I ever said anything.)

So rather than speaking of the devil we'll talk about how much of a worrywart Dabi actually is at heart.

He spends every single waking minute, and every unconscious second, to worry about you. This man lives in constant paranoia. Truly, deep down in his heart he wants to bundle you up in bubble wrap and tuck you under 10 blankets so you'll never be cold. So it's quite unfortunate that he can never quite express these feelings to you or anyone for that matter, trauma and internalized fear of emotional vulnerability and all that.

As a result, he will often express this through odd gestures of- I'm not quite sure what exactly it is.

What he'll do is he'll stare at you for prolonged periods of time, memorize your every schedule, demand to know all your friends, he emails your teachers once a week at least to ask them about your academic and social whereabouts. Everyone thinks he's a helicopter parent, no, he's a fucking psychopath.

he might as well have a GPS tracker on you. of course you barely get a say in this. he's your darling father, he's been like this since you were born, he only does it because he loves you and wants to keep you safe. he doesn't want to hurt you, even if he does, he's always apologized right after.

Dabi is also a cheapskate. the world's greatest in fact. despite the IRS never collecting his taxes he will forever never have enough money, he spends most of his "paycheck" the money stolen from innocent civilians on your college funds. He fully plans on starting a new life in Europe after All For One takes over and enrolling you into a top college so you can get your education (that is if the educational system is still intact.)

this is also why he is a Dumpster Diver and Pro Thriftier on the weekends! Everything, and I mean everything, is probably vintage and from goodwill. I have nothing else to say about that.

However, this did cause you to be heavily bullied and ostracized at school. A school in the pretty subarubs of japan where everyone's parent were either middle class or above, where you, you came from a different district, with the worn down shoes and the badly done hair, so excited to meet your new classmates. And it's quite sad really, never having many friends and all that. Especially if you aren't fully Japanese and were of color. (shout out to all my POC readers!)

and of course this wouldn’t be a proper story without Dabi being a little shit, but that's the thing about Dad Dabi, he is never a little shit in front of his child. never had been and probably never will be. It primarily roots from this need of an acutal father figure that he never had (endeavor was more so a mentor and teacher and, of course, abuser rather rthan an actual father to him).

he's nothing but serious around you, hell, he barely even talks, only ever grunts and hums in response to whatever you're saying so you know that he's listening to you. you may think he doesn't care, but he remembers it all as best he can, scribbles it down in broken grammar on the back of newspapers because he can’t afford a proper phone nor nice clean printerpaper.

Honestly, Dabi's a good father. But he's heavily insecure about it, he truly wants to lock you up in a castle like the princess you are to him and keep you there until the ends of time.

And on a simmilair note, he refuses to let you became a "bad" person.

AKA, someone who doesn't respect others, someone who cusses a lot, someone that doesn't show gratidute when given something good in their life. the reason he does it is because he refuses to see the current version of himself in you, he refuses to even think about you being tainted. Refuses. In his deluded mind that version of you can never exist lest they kill him.

He's genuinely the most strict helicopter parent to ever parent.

I'm talking monitors you 24/7, enrolls you in every after school club with even the tiniest bit of academic advancement (chess club, book club, math team), and he sits down with you every night to work through homework, he only ever buys nutritious meals for you; even though they take up the majority of his budget, and he only eats after you've eaten, drowning himself in the shitty dollar menu fast food.

Of course, he rewards you heavily for your hard work. Every day, he praises you for all that you’ve accomplished,

“Aww, good job honey.”

“A+, very nice.”

“You got a B? Oh, you thought you’d get an A? It’s okay, I know you tried. a B is good too.”

It not the most encouraging thing in the world but he wants your to know that he cares, he’ll takes you out for ice cream at the end of every month and give you an allowance to spend 10 dollars for every A on your report card. (This takes a huge bite out of his budget, but he made you a promise… he can skip out on dinner a couple nights, it’ll be fine.)

so far, you've been doing so well in school, one of the best students in your school, one of the more kind and respectful too. it's just that... you're so shy, you practically cower in fear when you have to talk to your classmates, especially after the incident. (Part 3, anyone?)

Dabi also puts this persona on for you, this persona of a kind man who is just a tad bit odd looking. he puts on the facade of being a normal civilian with a stable job and okay-ish income just so you don't worry. With you, he’s soft and trustworthy and only wants the best for you. Even if he does make you upset, he says sorry afterwards, always. He loves you, at least, that’s what he tells you.

And though it's not something he really worries about now, he dreads the day you become a teenager, then you'll know why he spends his nights out when there's criminals on the lose, who fears the day you'll understand what the news means, the day you'll take the hero's side. He just doesn't have the resources to keep you hidden from the outside world long enough for this wretched war he's fighting to be over. For the mean time, he denies you of much context on what he actually does all day, it's quite easy to do such a thing; he only ever needs to divert your attention to something shiny or pretty, like those little unicorn toys that he bought you for your second birthday, bought them brand new unlike many of the other things he's gotten you over the years. But he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep this up for, you’re smart, incredibly so, it’s only a matter of time until you know who he actually is,

another thing that he fears is of you growing up, caring for a small child is one thing, but he fears the day that you'll become a complex human being capable of properly understanding your emotions and failing to understanding that he truly wants the best for you.

he'll sit in the darkness of the living room some nights, you tucked neatly away on the other side of the couch, fast asleep, you never could finish a movie night without falling asleep half way through. his breathing's heavy as he runs his mind through the thousands upon thousands of theoretical fights you two'll have when you get older. How you’ll want to distance yourself, how you’ll cry yourself to sleep some nights because you think he doesn’t love you. he can't handle it, he won't stand to be your enemy.

because one day, you'll be an adult, you'll want to leave him, and you'll never come back. he can't live with that, he simply won't. he sometimes thinks about killing himself so he won't live to see the day you no longer want him in your life.

OR, OR, ALTERNATIVELY.

ProHero Dad Dabi.

I have been thinking about Dabi's ProHero Au since forever now. think teenage father Dabi but he got a girl pregnant the moment he's out of high school. (those after graduation parties be crazyyyy) and now he genuinely doesn't know how to balance his home life and his career and his daughter.

and obviously, just obviously, he CANNOT tell his father, he's already worse than Shoto, he's not gonna go lower on the scale.

so despite being the highest climbing amateur Hero in the past 7 years, he takes the longest hiatus of his life just to figure all this father shit out. his first plan was to but the girl up for adoption, and then he realized it would fail the moment the media find out, then he thought maybe he could tell one of his friends to take care of her, one of the ladies who'd fallen head over heels for him back in high school, he'd charm them, marry them, and then make em' into a house wife to take care of his mistake child.

honestly, it was a pretty good idea until he truly did start to love his child. similar to the main timeline, ProHero Dabi realizes he wants to be a better father than the one he grew up with, he decides to keep the child and raise her as his own, etc.

But in this timeline, literally everything is reversed.

Dabi's loaded with that money that the government gives him or fighting off a couple measly thugs, pair that with the brand deals he gets offered every other minute, and the trust fund his daddy gave him to get him through the "rough years" as he called it, he's practically rolling in cash.

oh God, you are going to be such a brat growing up. Life handed to you on a silver spoon is nice. I'm talking luxury clothes, top private schools, an allowance bigger than the gods. and Dabi did It all cuz' he loves you.

and the media goes HAM over a teenage ProHero that already looks like a villain having a daughter with a stranger! the press goes wild over it, but the whole time, Dabi covers your little tiny face with his hand so the flashes of the cameras don't frighten you and calmly explains that he will not be taking any questions. he holds you tight to his chest the whole time.

But you know who as the most furious? ENJI. big guy cussed out Touya for 3 hours straight all while holding you, at first the refused to give his son any right to hold you let alone raise you! In Enji's eyes, his son is the most malicious thing to ever grace this planet, he drinks, he smokes, he has ten thousand tattoos and piercings along his burn marks to match, Dabi's essentially the devil, and he's not going to let him get anywhere close to his first ever grandchild and possible child prodigy that he can turn into his puppet! Rei and Fuyumi had to step in and try and convince Enji to let Dabi have you rather than file to take full custody of you with the promise if Dabi even showed hints of negligence towards you, he can take his son to court.

okay that the end of my rant. and please let me know if you want to know more about pro hero Dabi from me.

---

For those who don't know, this post is related to these

Pt 1, Pt 2

my stuff is right here: Bnha master list, rules for requesting, ask box

Note: YA'LL READ MY RULES FOR REQUESTING DAMN. I GOT 2 ANONS (more than my usual of 0) AND BOTH OF THEM ASKED FOR ROMANTICS (I DO NOT WRITE ROMANTICS)

please, please, read a writers rules, please follow them, and thank you to this anon who decided to be reasonable BECAUSE MAYBE THEY READ THE RULES BEFORE DECIDING TO ASK LIKE YOU"RE SUPPOSED TO THIS HAS HAPPENED NEARLY EVERY TIME I GET AN ASK.

taglist: @blurryperrtymoonlight @harkenizalone @lostiolite @rllytriedrn @mellyxqz @cupkiki @xxnessinessiellexx @dehlieee @frog-fans-unite @rian1023 @aikobabe @double-gs @mitsuki3123 @wolvwa @red4-0

[666anxiety666]

May I ask for a Pressure tickle fic? Where the player / y/n is a 16 year old (In my country if your 15 ur legally go to jail, and the 16 yr old committed a crime in self defence) and Sebastian noticing the anxiety, pressure (pun inteended) and paranoia he decides to cheer the kiddo up to make em feel like a child again and just melt away their worries? So basically Lee 16 yr old Y/n and a Big Ler snake that gives off HUGE older brother vibes

That's such a cute prompt, omg 😭

Tickle monster

Sebastian and TEEN reader

LEE: Y/N LER: Sebastian

Warnings: none :)

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎

Ever since you had been sent down here, Sebastian hasn't let you leave his shop without him. You don't blame him. You wouldn't go out on your own anyway. A sixteen year old should never have been in a place like this to begin with.

Sure, it got boring, and yeah, maybe at first Sebastian claimed he was only protecting you cause, "he had to." But over time, you and him have become quite close, like a sibling kind of way...

However, as of recently, your anxiety and paranoia has gotten worse. Ever small nosie made you jump. You always hid behind Sebastian when a new expendable came down. You were never away from Sebastian, always clinging to him.

Currently, you and Sebastian were getting ready for bed. You always slept with Sebastians tail curled around you. But on this "night," you couldn't sleep.

Your eyes darted all over the place, your heart rate picking up as you head what must have been one of the anglers, banging on a wall in the distance. Sebastian opened one of his three eyes and glanced at you.

"Don't worry, kid. They do that all the time... just try to drown it out, yeah?"

But you couldn't. every noise made you jump. You were scared. You shouldn't even be here to begin with. You wanted to go home... Sebastian noticed your fear and worry.

"Come on, kid. You've got nothing to worry about..."

But Sebastian's words did little to ease your fear. Sebastian sighed. He turned around to face you fully. His tail is still wrapped around you.

"What can I do to help you calm down?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. You shrugged shyly. Sebastian sighed again. He rested his cheek in the palm of his hand as he thought of what to do.

"Come on, kid. There's gotta be something..."

Sebastian poked your side as he said this. You jumped at the poke. Letting out a small squeak. Sebastian paused, raising an eyebrow. Then, it hit him. A massive grin spreading on his face

Yours blood ran cold, and you instantly tried to get up to run. But Sebastian's tail kept you down. You struggled. But it was too late.

"Oh no, kid. You ain't escaping... the tickle monster!"

Sebastian cackled. Latching onto your sides, raking his claws up and down. You squealed, kicking your legs desperately.

You grabbed at his wrists and tried to shove him off. But it was no use. Sebastian moved his third hand to your tummy. You squealed louder.

"Look at you, squealing like a little school girl~"

Sebastian teased. You tried to pull your way out of Sebastian's grasp, but it was useless.

"Aw, how cute! You think you can stop me? You think the tickle monster shows mercy to kids like you?"

Sebastian exaggerated. Moving his hands up to your ribs. Your laughter got louder. kicking your legs harder against the floor.

"Say... im quite hungry... how many ribs do kids like you have, hm?"

Your heart dropped. You tried to push him away, but it was no use. You begged, but your pleas fell of deaf ears.

"One..~ two..~ three..~"

Sebastian started to "count." Wiggling his fingers at each rib as he did. It tickled so badly. You kicked and squirmed harder.

"Come on, kid! You made me lose count! Now I have to start all over!"

Sebastian exclamied before starting his "counting" from the beginning. This went on for what felt like forever. Your squeals and belly laughter filling the shop as Sebastian would restart at every struggle you made.

"Ugh, you know.. if I can't have get at your tasty ribs... maybe I'll have to try something else...!"

Sebastian then pretended to start "eating" your stomach. Blowing raspberries and making munching sounds.

Your face flushed. This was so childish. But you couldn't escape. You were stuck. You kicked and squealed. Shoving at Sebastian's head.

Soon, after what felt like an eternity. Sebastian backed off.

"Man... I think I've had my fill..."

Sebastian grinned as he backed off. Leaving you panting and giggling. You hugged your stomach slightly. You're face bright red for laughing. Sebastian chuckled, ruffling your hair gently.

"You good kid?"

Sebastian asked. You nodded. Pushing your hair out of your face. Sebastian chuckled once more.

"See? Told you everything was fine. You just need a good tickle every now and then."

Sebastian joked as he poked your side one last time. You yelped and giggled. Sebastian smirked and lay back down.

"Okay, okay, I'm done.."

Sebastian mumbled. You also lay back down. Resting against Sebastians tail. Sebastian pulled a blanket over you before wrapping his third arm over your shoulder.

You felt your eyes droop. You were tired. Not only from today's work, but all that tickling you went through. Sebastian smiled slightly.

"I've got you, kid..."

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎

Thank yall for the requests‼️ I have two more fics coming🙌

[mara-xx217]

Good morning/afternoon/night! My internet is really bad at the moment so im not sure when this ask is gonna get through lol :,)

If I remember it correctly, your asks are open! So I decided to try my luck on sending one! (I've only downloaded Tumblr recently so im sorry if this goes badly :,) )

May I ask for a scenario or something like that with Pocketcat obsessing over a poor and desperate soul(aka reader lol) who is just trying to make their way through the Fear and Hunger dungeons/The festival of Termina (It's probably better if you choose lol)? Reader is just trying to go through another day without being attacked in their sleep and maybe smoking some Opium while that goddamn cat is just starting from a corner.

((Im not sure how asks work! Sorry if I made a mistake!!))

Omg yes this is perfectly fine! Everybody loves Pocketcat (me included) so I'm more than happy to answer this lol. Let's set this during the Festival, shall we? :)

You're doing great!

Warnings: Stalking, General Creep Behavior, Pocketcat Deserves His Own Warning, Drug Use

The atmosphere of Prehevil was a buzz with an invisible, cold heat. Your skin had started to tingle the moment you woke up from that terrible dream you had on the train and a throbbing headache that started as a minor annoyance has now turned into a full blown migraine that has you feeling like you've been brained by a lead pipe, a very real possibility given all the pissed off locals that have been attacking you unprompted and out of the blue as you've wandered the mostly deserted streets.

The last few blocks, you've begun to feel as though you were being watched... Every other step you take, you swear that you hear the echo of a footfall that is just barely out of sync of your own. You pause mid step and listen carefully.

...click...

Shit. You don't look over your shoulder, fearing what you might find following you. You shove your hands in your jacket pockets and suddenly pick up your pace, not quite running but not walking casually either. Your fucking head is killing you... You wanted nothing more than to take a hit from your pipe... but you needed to find somewhere relatively safe first. Continuing on, you round several more street corners. You don't stop until you no longer hear any footsteps mirroring your own. Slowing down, you strain your ears once again.

....

Silence. You shuffle to a stop. Your headache is nearly blinding and you sit on a pair of steps that lead into one of the many buildings in Prehevil. Fumbling with your bag, you fish out your smoking pipe, your eyes closed as they were throbbing and painfully dry. You crack an eye open and find a nearly empty matchbook, striking it alight and lighting the pipe that was still partially filled with opium. Extreme, but its all you have.

And your head-

It was sweet relief. The opium was strong and fast acting. Your headache numbed, as did your paranoia. Your heartbeat slowed and you felt yourself fall at ease. You kept your eyes closed, enjoying the brief moment of quiet. Has it been only a few hours of this? It almost felt like a lifetime... Your eyes open, blinking as they readjust to the light. And you find yourself startled as there was someone standing down the street opposite of where you sat.

The colour purple was a strange sight in this blood-soaked town... Not a drop of gore was on him, yet the bag at his feet was blood-smeared and breathing, you could tell even from where you sat. He was tall and well-dressed, strange all around and strangely making a point to avoid eye-contact with you. As you stared at him, suddenly sobering from the opium, he twitched his head and glanced in your direction. What the hell was he wearing...?

"Ah-! Oh, dear me! I didn't see you there at all!" His accent was strange and he seemed exasperated. Though he was wearing a mask, something that appeared to be cumbersome and inflexible, it had a lot of character and seemed to reflect it well through his eyes.

"My, my, how rude of me! I do apologize, this Festival has us all running about like mad, does it not?" You uneasily looked side to side.

Was... he talking to you?

"What... 'Festival'...?" He continued on.

"Say... perhaps I am mistaken but... do I know you? Maybe you get that a lot, you do have one of those faces, but I swear that you look..." The masked man turned to face you. He had one hand in his pocket, something that make you gravely nervous.

"...familiar?" You don't know why you answered him. Perhaps it was the awkwardness of this situation getting to you.

"Yes! Familiar. I feel as though I have met you once before, in lands and times different though under such similar circumstances..." He grew wistful, seeming to reflect on an old and touching memory. You frowned. There was something nagging at the back of your head....

"Pray tell, how has this Festival been treating you? Worse for wear? Perhaps you have had your fill and wish to turn in for the day?" You narrowed your eyes.

"I... What?" He continued.

"No matter, there is time left for you, though not much at all, I'm afraid. There is never enough time, is there? Or it certainly doesn't feel that way... Especially where the ones we love are concerned..." He turned his head so you couldn't see his masked face. The man brought his hand to his mouth and seemed to suddenly grow sheepish. The hand in his pocket began to twitch and you felt your stomach roll in apprehension.

"Do you have that special someone in your life? I did... once upon a time... Though it has been so many ages since I last saw them..." He turned to face you and he seemed larger and closer than he truly was. The masked man grew in height and seemed to lean in close to you, until you had your back flat against the stairs and you were cowering before him from across the street.

"Though... looking upon you has brought a wave of nostalgia over me! Truly, I must thank you for this, for I had missed them terribly..." There was a genuineness to his voice that was almost moving... for a split second, you felt your guard lower.

"I see..." Your shoulders dropped a little. A wave of emotion washed over you.

Relief

Gratitude

But in the warmness there was also,

Anticipation

Fear

Hatred

Deja vu seized your heart and froze you in place. Your temples began to throb as the colour drained from your face. The stranger had become familiar and known to you, though you didn't understand how or why. He seemed pleased with the shift in your demeanor.

"That's quite enough I think..." You furrowed your brows, confused.

"What-?"

"Yes, quite so!" You can tell that he was smiling under the mask.

"I don't understand-" He nodded to himself.

"That's quite alright, old sport! Give it some time, I think it will all become apparent, sooner than later." The man straightened up and you no longer felt crowded.

"W-What will? What- Who even are you-?!" Your question was waved off.

"Enough questions! Don't you think it's about time now?" Anxiety pulsed under your skin.

"Time? Time f-for what?"

"Time to wake up, of course! You've nearly overslept!" You're stunned. Confused and a little annoyed, you open your mouth to rebuke him, but he's suddenly in front of you and has a gloved hand clamped around your mouth. You can't move, you can't blink, you can't even scream in terror as a wave of nostalgia crashes over you.

"Hush, now... I've stolen you away from my Master for long enough... It's time for us to part ways for now, but we will meet again. It will be just like the good old days, just you wait!" You didn't know who this fucking freak was and you didn't care. You just wanted him to get the hell away from you already!

"Go on, then! Away with you!" His tone was cheery but he picked you off the stone stairs with his one hand with ease, until your legs were dangling limply in the air.

You were thrown down but instead of busting your head on the edge of sharp stairs you startled in a seated position. You hit your elbow against the cool train window and your head bounced off of it as you struggled to regain your senses.

It was... what?

It wasn't real... It was all just one big, terrible dream... You sighed in relief. In the moments that it took your heart to slow, you realized something.

The train wasn't moving and it was devoid of all passengers.

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine, @memoryofheather

[imsosleepyofyourbull]

Kind of continuation of this behemoth post, but I wanted to dig into Seoyu’s dynamic/themes with Trey&Riddle, Ruggie&Leona, and Jamil&Kalim better than I was allowed when I was trying to fit everything into one. Further, I wanted to go over what actually happens to Yuna in their original universe while Seoyu is gone. She got overlooked because the post was getting way too long, and I wanted to focus on Seoyu because he’s the one actually in and created for TWST.

For those who do NOT want to read the hundreds to thousands of words worth of text attached to that little link, I’ll try to summarize what you NEED to know for this as quickly as my yapper brain will allow me to. Then the lore/exploration.

These are my two TWST OCs; the taller one with the slicked back hair is a 22 year old Korean man named Seoyu Shin, while the shorter one with the braid is a 22 year old Spanish-Japanese woman named Yuna Ayakishi-Cabellero. The two of them are part of an organized crime syndicate known as Wilted Rose, with Seoyu being the right hand to Yuna’s boss. He looks gentle, but has a “hit first, ask questions later” mindset and brawls like some kind of feral animal. She’s exuberant and even physically stronger than he is, but is a total genius with an eidetic memory who prefers manipulation and negotiation before violence. He follows her because she puts her people first, but they got into an argument the night he was transported to TWST and a few months after she was made the official boss. It was over her increasingly reckless and desperate attempts to defeat a new gang that took advantage of the power vacuum to threaten some of Wilted Rose’s trade deals.

Seoyu’s character arc is almost entirely about his attachment to Yuna and who he needs to become in order to better support her. This happens slowly over the course of the story, obviously, but the development of Trey&Riddle, Ruggie&Leona, and Jamil&Kalim have the most significant impact on him due to their parallels with him and/or Yuna. Trey&Riddle are the easiest to see; a right hand who enables their boss’ most dangerous behavior, and a boss who takes their ambitions too far out of fear and desperation instilled by their parents. Yuna’s father raised her with vengeance in mind, wanting to get back at the previous boss (the one who was his friend) for drowning his wife/her mother out of paranoia. It made her cunning and strong and all of the things she needed to be to get the job done, but his expectations push her around like a wave. Seoyu wasn’t blind to this, but he refused to take that first step and approach her because he had no idea how to. He let it build up until neither of them could handle it and it blew up in their faces. It’s why he has so little to say to Trey when he tells him about Riddle’s mom and their childhood; he also stayed quiet, and it did nothing good when he did say something. The fact that Trey and Riddle go into Riddle’s overblot with the worst relationship they’ve ever had and come out of it stronger than before gives Seoyu hope that he can actually help Yuna.

Ruggie&Leona don’t remind him of himself nearly as much, but Leona in particular does remind him of Yuna; a genius with an eye for leadership and people who rely on them to find a way to success for all of them. This is why he reacts as badly as he does when Leona nearly kills Ruggie by turning him to sand. It’s not really anger, so much as it is the overwhelming fear he feels watching someone who cares so much find failure at every turn and end up lashing out. That he and Ruggie continue working together afterward is a testament to the strength of their bond, as well as the mutually beneficial nature at its core. Despite the fact that Leona is both a prince and the housewarden of Savanaclaw, Ruggie has a lot more ground with him than a lot of the other vices do. He bites back twice as hard when Leona bites him, and I’m sure that both of them know Leona wouldn’t try to stop him if it got to the point that Ruggie decided to actually leave. It’s clearly different from what he has with Yuna, but Seoyu finds a second hope in Leona&Ruggie. Additionally, the fact that Leona is only two years younger than him (as opposed to 4 like all the other non-fae third years) means that he feels the most comfortable with him.

Jamil&Kalim on the other hand, remind Seoyu far too much of himself and not nearly enough of Yuna to balance it out. He and Jamil both have a lot of snake symbolism and themes of protection in their characters, as well as some rather heavy responsibilities to sunny and exuberant bosses. However, Kalim is almost dangerously oblivious and impulsive where Yuna is all cunning. This is why Seoyu struggles to associate Kalim with her; he values her intelligence too highly and trusts in Kalim too little to be okay with the fact that he forgave Jamil for betraying him. Further, Jamil’s resolve to stop hiding and unseated build a future for himself that is separate from Kalim and the Asims entirely terrifies Seoyu because it forces him to consider what he’ll do if the resolve that he and Yuna find is one where he can’t work with her. It blinds him to the reality that he had a choice where Jamil did not, and he regresses from a lot of the character development he received from Trey&Riddle and Ruggie&Leona. That he’s largely incapable of seeing past Kalim’s sunny disposition and thinks Jamil is unreasonable is NOT a good thing and something he has to fix. Badly. Frankly, comparing him to Jamil is like comparing apples and oranges, because the reasons why they serve Kalim and Yuna are fundamentally different from the other. Unfortunately, Seoyu doesn’t fully acknowledge this until the dreams in Book 7 tell him he’s stupid. It works out.

Yuna’s arc, on the other hand, is far removed from the canon progression of the game because she doesn’t actually get transported to TWST at the same time that Seoyu does. She doesn’t even get into contact with him until after Malleus’ defeat in Book 7, when she realizes that the visions she’s been seeing in her mirrors are actual snapshots of another universe. From her perspective, her best friend of nearly a decade disappeared without a trace after they had an argument. Worse still is the knowledge that the argument was over her being reckless with her peoples’ lives. She’s convinced that he’s been kidnapped (which is technically true) and nearly drives herself crazy trying to find him. She searches absolutely everywhere that she can possibly think of, venturing into enemy bars and interrogating members of the rising gang that tried to steal their trade deals. Eventually, she comes to the conclusion that she messed up so bad that she managed to drive away her most loyal companion. And it breaks her. She’s worried about him, of course, but she’s terrified that she’s turned into the same kind of monster that the previous boss was in an effort to overthrow him. The entire reason that she’d been trying so hard to protect everyone was because she knew what it meant to have someone important to you taken away by someone who you trusted to protect you and your loved ones. Her father made sure she knew that the most important thing for any leader was having people to lead at all. He drove it into her brain alongside a burning desire for revenge before he died, and now all that’s left is anger and directionless ambition.

She decides that she has to better herself, and works as hard as she can to build up Wilted Rose’s strength and stability before getting all those trade deals and territories back from the rising gang. She visits her mother and father’s shared grave (containing a casket with only one body but two rings because they couldn’t find her after she was drowned) and tells them that she’s doing well. That she’s going to make sure Seoyu can come back without any worries about how she’s been handling everything since he ran away. That she’s apologized to the family she used as bait and accepted their fear, but does her best to keep them safe with as many of her top aides as she can spare. She’s even scored a few deals with neighboring syndicates that are just as upset about the rising gang as she’s been. And when she goes home (his home, because she wants to keep it clean for whenever he comes back) that night, it’s the first time since she’s started seeing Seoyu in her mirrors… that he sees her too. He’s there, in that distant universe filled with magic and mystery and a little banged up from a fight, but with her all the same! She doesn’t know how it happened, but she couldn’t care less if it means that he’d been wanting to see her too, and that she gets to talk to him again. Getting him home can wait a little longer, if she has this to sate her need to see him until he figures it out.

In all; both of their arcs are about how they learn to be better for each other. Seoyu slowly learns to confront her as well actually support her instead of enabling her, and Yuna learns how to handle her inherited desire for vengeance with her ambition in order to protect him.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Devout - a Magnus Archives fic

An AU Somewhere Else - part of the Magnus Monsterverse series.

Spoilers for the whole podcast.

Jonah wasn’t going to let me avoid him. Some people always had to have it their own way.

AO3

---------

How badly did I not want to see Jonah? So badly that I was looking for a job.

I sat at Martin’s tiny table and stared at the brochures Mike and Jane had brought. There were so many.

“So I’m guessing nothing too physical for you,” said Mike in his delightful voice, honestly not trying to be mean.

“Don’t be mean,” said Jane.

“Excuse me? I am not,” confirmed Mike. “Look at him. He’s a stick in a sweater.” Such an amiable timbre with such terrible words, had Mike. You’d never guess from his tone just what he was.

“I… I did research in school,” I said. “Historical paranormal studies.”

They both stared at me.

“That exists?” said Mike. “Absolutely wild. Tea?”

“Such a waste of time,” said Jane. “Studying what dead white men care about.”

“Yes, well,” I muttered. “Yes, tea would be lovely.”

Mike headed into Martin’s fancy kitchenette area to make it (and I tried not to be envious of his obvious familiarity).

Jane stared at me. I stared back. “So how well did you know me?” she asked.

And at the same time, I said, “Why did you kill me?”

So that was awkward.

“Your blush is fascinating,” she said. “The way your cheeks just sort of darken. It makes your eyes stand out; they weren’t that weird green in my timeline.”

“No, they’re… they were brown. Just brown.”

Jane tilted her head in Martin’s direction (he was walking Mike through making tea with the tone of someone who’d had this discussion too many times to be civil). “Not ‘just’ brown, apparently. Someone sure thought they were nice.”

“Yes, well, they’re freakish green now, and I’ll probably need contacts,” I muttered at the brochures.

“Or just let people assume you’re already wearing them.”

I blinked at her. “I can do that?”

“We’re nearly in the twenty-second century. You could sew a dick to your forehead, and only some jobs would be out of reach.”

I stared at her again. Tried to speak. Failed.

That was, I think, what she was going for. “Point to me,” she smirked. “As to your question… well, it’s your Eye, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

“Yes. Do you have any idea, Jonathan Sims, what it is to be known, but not loved or feared?”

“Yes,” I said, but apparently didn’t say it in a dire enough tone.

“To people who aren’t freaks, it is horrible,” she said. “It feels like judgment of the worst kind.”

“I know,” I said quietly. “I saw people suffering under it for a long time.”

“That’s right— you did. The one I knew was too in his own head to be aware of anything. Did you know he’d fired his Martin?”

“Fired him?”

“He didn’t show up at work, and, well… you didn’t like him at all at first, did you?”

“How much has he told you?” I blurted in absolute horror.

She just smiled.

I sighed and hunched in my seat. “I… I thought Elias sent him there to spy on me and gather evidence I was doing a bad job, all right?”

She started laughing. “You what?”

“It made sense,” I muttered. “I hadn’t asked for him. He clearly wasn’t qualified, and I barely was. And…”

“And the being watched paranoia already had you by the balls,” she said.

My face was burning. “Yes.”

“Well, anyway, you saved his life by it.” She smiled, and it was deeply unpleasant. “He wasn’t there when I took the Institute.”

“Ah. Well. Good,” I said, my eyes huge.

“Of course, he died, anyway when I took the world.”

Dear lord. “About that.” I sat back up. “How?”

“How?” She tilted her head. 

“How did you manage a ritual? You… you aren’t marked by all the Fears. I can see that.”

And Jane Prentiss looked confused. “Marked by all the Fears? Gods, what a terrible idea. Why would I need to be that?”

I was stunned.

Mike returned with tea. “Right, here we go. English joy-juice, hot off the kettle.”

“Ooh!” said Jane, absorbing his weirdness, accepting her cup.

I took my and inhaled slowly, eyes closed. The essence of Martin was in this simple drink; all our years together, all the times we spent—all the ways he’d reached out to me while I still had my head up my own arse.

I smiled, eyes still closed. How many cups of tea had he brought to me before I finally realized he’d meant them as a gift?

One thousand, one hundred, and fifty nine, the Eye informed me, and each and every time Martin put tea on my desk flashed through my mind in an instant.

Oh…

Oh, he…

Again and again, that sweet and hopeful smile, looking at me through his lashes, cheeks slightly flushed, just edging the teacup as near as he dared—whether I was awake, whether I was asleep, whether I snapped at him or not, he saw me, and he forgave my churlish self.

Jon? Hey, Jon. Come on. Follow my voice. You can see me, can’t you?

I could see him. I could always see him. He glowed to me, appearing from the gloom of my mind and my regrets, and I suddenly came back to myself.

There were tears on my cheeks. Mike and Jane stared at me, and Martin bent before me, gently cupping my face, talking. “Hey, Jon,” he was saying, patient, eyes soft. “Oh, there you are! There you are.” He kissed my forehead. “Hey. Where did you go just now?”

Oh. “I’m sorry,” I said, shaking a little.

“Don’t be.” He rested his forehead against mine. “Was it the Eye again?”

“Yes. I wondered how many times you’d given me tea before I realized how wonderful you were, and It… Showed me.”

“Well,” said Martin, grinning. “I suppose that means It, uh. What was the term you learned from Manuela?”

“Ships us?” I supplied weakly.

“There you go. You’re all right.”

I did not feel all right. I felt hot, and foreign in my own body. “I’m sorry,” I said to Jane and Mike.

Neither of them seemed overly shocked. 

“It happens,” said Mike. “You don’t think I lose myself every damn time there’s a thunderstorm?”

“I must be… so careful,” said Jane to no one, gaze distant with memory. “To avoid rotted flesh, to avoid places of garbage, to avoid things that could make me remember the world gone to corruption.” She made that last word into a thing of love, and she shuddered.

I stared at them. Martin was right. They understood. I barely understood, but they did—they understood.

Stupid tears.

“Keep looking,” said Mike, tapping the brochures. “We’ll find you something you can do.”

“Even though I… disassociate, or whatever that was?” I said.

“Even though.” For the first time since we’d met here, Jane looked… softer. “You’re going to be fine, Jonathan Sims. You’ve come into this at the right time, you know? It’s all figured out already. There’s a path.”

That was the second time I’d heard that. It still felt considerably less sure than they wanted it to feel.

I couldn’t believe it. Not yet. Maybe I was being paranoid. Maybe if I refused to accept it, I could be prepared for whatever doom was coming. Or maybe, by being paranoid, I’d fuck it all up again, destroy the metaphorical table keeping us safe, and ruin what they’d built.

I froze.

Mike’s stomach rumbled. “There goes my alarm,” he said cheerfully, and stood.

Jane watched me. “We shall speak more, you and I,” she said as formally as anyone had ever said anything.

“Yes,” I agreed. “But I can’t right now.”

She shrugged one shoulder and stood.

“Thanks, guys,” said Martin.

Mike’s grin and slow look up and down him got my hackles up—for a moment. “Anything for you, yeah?” He couldn’t help it, could he? He was just… what he was—and felt comfortable enough around us to not pretend anything. 

I needed to process that.

Jane was already leaving, and she raised her hand in farewell. Mike followed, giving us a ridiculous wink before closing the door behind him.

“So,” I said, because I’m an idiot, “everybody wants you.”

Martin went bright pink. 

I couldn’t help grinning like an idiot. “Is there a reason for that?”

“Yes,” said Martin. “It’s a sort of… side effect? I’m constantly fighting not to make everyone around me feel isolated. Unfortunately, that means there’s sort of a vacuum? And it goes the other way?”

I stared at him. “You’re telling me that if you actively avoid making people feel alone, they feel like you’re their best friend?”

“No, they… they sort of…” He rubbed the back of his head. “Think they need me?”

I snickered. Like some goofy teenager. “What?”

“I know, I know, it’s… weird.”

“It sounds like absolute hell to me,” I said, sliding my arms around his shoulders. “How do you ever get any privacy?”

“By running the hell away,” he said with solemnity, and then grinned back.

“Lucky I knew you before all that, hm?” I said. “You know I love you for you.” I eyed him. “You do know that, don’t you?”

“I think so,” he said slowly. “I mean… we’re neither of us exactly the same people we were.”

“We are,” I said. “We’ve both just gone through things. Also, we’ve been living together for weeks now, and if we were going to hate each other after all that, I’m pretty sure we would have.”

He laughed.

And he dipped me like some book-cover heroine.

“Martin!” I said, clinging.

He grinned like a fiend. “Let’s go out for lunch.”

“What?” 

“Out. For lunch.”

“Together?” I said, inanely.

“You are such a dork,” he said with great affection, and kissed me properly senseless.

It took a while.

“Okay,” I breathed, remembering to say at long last.

He was still dipping me. That… that was something. “I might have manipulated the circumstances,” he said.

“You are welcome to manipulate me, anytime.” I wasn’t sure that had enough innuendo, so I waggled my eyebrows.

He was still laughing when we left the apartment five minutes later.

#

Surreal. Absolutely surreal. We sat outside a tiny cuban place on a major street, and watched birds in the trees, and breeze in the flowers, and people on their rapid, focused way to whatever they had to do (and the Eye tried to show me the life of every single one, but I refused), and silent cars (that must be truly dangerous—no audible warning they were coming), and a single gray tomcat who stared at us from the awning overhead, watching my plate with great attention.

I didn’t need to eat. It was nice, though. Even if the Eye insisted on telling me every damned spice that touched my mouth. (Garlic, cumin, oregano, bay leaf, salt, pepper, cilantro—)

“All I’m saying is you could go the internet route, too,” Martin said. “I mean, it’s worked for me.”

“Yes, but you got the idea from another version of you who did it well,” I pointed out. “I don’t have another version of me to learn from. It seems, in fact, that I’d better not do anything the lot of them did.”

His smile was shy. “Maybe not anything they did.”

My own smile was shy, too. “Well. I suppose some of them got one thing right. But I don’t really want to lean on the Eye that much.”

“You wouldn’t be a proper psychic,” he said, scraping his plate clean of ropa vieja. “I mean… you could just make stuff up. Other people do.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I also don’t want my face out there.”

“Well,” he said. “That could be part of the mystique—you wear a mask, or something. It could just be your voice.” Quieter, he said, “I know I’d pay money to hear your voice.”

I poked at my picadillo. “Yes, but you’re biased.”

“You have a lovely voice, Jon.”

I pointed at him with my fork. “Biased.”

He grinned. “Based.”

“Based?” I stared. “What—oh.” The Eye, of course, told me. “That’s absurd.”

He was snickering at me again. I didn’t mind at all.

Regardless: I just didn’t want to do internet psychic, no matter what the payday might be. There had to be something I’d enjoy.

We paid. Rose. Complimented the cocinera. And were just walking down the street when it happened.

Jonah Magnus, there in broad daylight, see-through like a ghost, wearing hospital scrubs and an expression of wonder.

I stared.

Martin saw nothing. “What?” he whispered. “Jon. Stay with me, okay?”

“I…” I shook my head, blinked.

He was still there, gawking at me.

“Go away,” I mouthed at him.

He looked absolutely wounded. Then his mouth tightened in a line, and he sort of bowed, and disappeared.

“Oh, hell,” I said. “I doubt Sasha knows about that.”

“About what?”

“Jonah is doing something. That son of a bitch.”

He looked conflicted. “We’re not far from the facility, but…”

“But this is our time. I know.” I rubbed my face. “Martin, he just appeared on the street. He’s projecting himself, somehow.”

“Are… are you sure?” he said.

“Yes. Completely.” Because I was.

I knew I wasn’t seeing things. That was, at least, a nice perk of being made of eyeballs and light.

“Then we’d better go. Come on.” He slid his arm around my waist and led the way.

We walked, and I was grateful, because I needed that time to think.

#

Sasha’s facility used to be just your basic Georgian period homes—one long, flat-fronted building, windows and doors delineating individual flats. A lot of the walls inside had been knocked down. Manuela had… made space underground somehow for all that was needed, and they’d filled it with equipment, and rooms for people like me, including all manner of restraints. I couldn’t even imagine what Historic England might think of all this.

Sasha answered on the second ring. She opened the door and blinked at me. I think she might have gotten taller, too. “Hey,” she said, looking quite confused. “It’s not for two more days?”

“I’m not here for me,” I said darkly. “I’m here for him.”

“Magnus is doing something weird,” said Martin. “He’s projecting, somehow.”

“He’s what?” said Sasha. “What? He’s unconscious. He still has to be sedated most of the day.”

“I want to see him right now,” I said.

She peered at me. “For… non-nefarious purposes, right?”

“Is he in hospital scrubs right now?”

“Er, yes,” said Sasha. “Not much of a guess, there.”

“Pocket here.” I touched. “And there is a tiny stain on his right sleeve.”

Her eyes widened. “There was. We had a minor IV incident about an hour ago. His shirt’s changed now, but… do you just know that?”

“No. I’m telling you, he showed up in the street, incorporeal.”

“Well, that’s upsetting,” she said. “And new—but then, he’s the first of his kind we’ve rescued.”

“You said there are seven more, right? I think we should figure this out before you bring any more into this place, don’t you?”

Sasha considered me. “Swear to me, Jon, right now, that you’re not going to do something to him. He’s new. He deserves the same chance all of us got.”

“I’m only going to talk to him.”

“I told you—he’s sedated.”

“Sasha. Please.”

“Hm,” she said. 

“Please,” said Martin.

Sasha sighed. “All right, one condition: I’m monitoring and reporting everything.”

“Go right ahead. I’m not the one being spooky right now,” I said. 

“Deeeebatable,” said Sasha. “Come on in.”

The first time I walked this hall, Sasha had just deemed me safe for a glimpse of the outside.

I’d taken baby steps—literally and figuratively—clinging to her arm, and stood in the open door, and stared at a whole world of sunshine and birds and trees and people, and been overwhelmed in three and a half minutes, and wept as she led me back underground at the same easy pace.

She said I’d lasted longer than she’d expected. 

I’d told her it was because Martin was out there, and I couldn’t go home with Martin until I was well.

She’d kissed my forehead as I fell back asleep. 

I’d been here many times since. Some part of me felt the same horror and amazement every time I walked this hall.

Another part knew a strange relief as we descended the stairs to the sanctuary Manuela had created—and Sasha had personalized.

It could have been as cold as the deeper parts of Manuela’s lab, but Sasha would not allow it. She’d added colorful throw rugs (more muted toward the actual hospital and more colorful toward the door, like a journey). She’d pained murals—flowers, fields, one wall a swirling night sky. Neither people nor animals; nothing to instigate hunting feelings, or the thought of rot.

We were silent on the walk down. The stairs were shallow and easy, which was good, because this trip took us a hundred meters down. 

There was an elevator and an emergency ladder, too. We all chose the stairs.

Those stairs represented our effort. Those stairs represented our sanity’s gradual return. Those stairs were the pathway to regaining a life none of us deserved—but maybe could retroactively earn.

They gave me plenty of time to think today, which, I’m certain, she’d planned.

The facility had six beds. No more than four had ever been occupied at a time, and usually, there was only one.

Today, Jonah was that one.

Sasha had done a miracle. He looked like the mental image he’d had of himself. Gone was the matting and curlicued nails, the crusted layers of grime and unspeakable filth. His hair had been cut quite short, but was already growing back out; his cherubic cheeks had color, and yes, his lips were pink.

His eyes moved behind lids as if dreaming.

I knew he was not dreaming.

The Eye wanted to give me everything Jonah had, as if he were a present I wouldn’t just burn.

“See?” said Sasha. “Sedated.”

“Not as much as you think he is,” I said. The Eye wanted to show me—

She checked the monitors. “So,” she said. “Brain activity is completely normal for what I’d expect to see. Is it actually doing that, or is my perception off?”

“No,” I said. “It’s real. He just doesn’t happen to be home.” The Eye—

“Does he need to be restrained further?”

The Eye was trying to—“He needs to stop pretending.” The Eye wanted me to—“Jonah Magnus.” The Eye wanted me to see. “Wake up.”

Barely, I heard the beeping of panicked machines as his system threw off the effects of the sedative he’d only allowed as a courtesy. Barely, I heard Sasha shouting as deeper alarms went off presaging…

Something impossible. Jonah Magnus woke up.

To a backdrop of screeching and shouting and ignored commands, we stared into one another, and there was no screaming this time.

The Eye wanted—

Your brother, It tried to tell me

My rage at that thought made It stop—though I knew It had not changed Its mind. 

“My lord and my god,” he whispered, and I heard him above all the chaos around. 

“Bullshit,” I said, and knew I could destroy him.

(The Eye wanted—)

Knew how his cells worked, knew exactly the chemical structure keeping his skin one solid substance instead of a pile of composite gore, knew how to unravel his mind in just a few simple words—

“Jon?” said Martin, and that one word in his perfect voice was enough to pull me back.

I breathed.

It wasn’t nearly as chaotic as it had seemed. The monitors by his bed were beeping, and Sasha was talking to Leitner via some kind of video call, but I hardly cared. I leaned into Martin, and breathed again.

Jonah looked back and forth between us. 

“You all right?” said Martin softly.

“Yes, thanks to you.” I wasn’t releasing his arm. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said.

“You have a consort,” said Jonah in wonder.

“Excuse you,” said Martin.

Right. This had to stop now. “I’m not God.”

That didn’t land at all. “Why him?”

“How were you on the street?” I countered.

He seemed so surprised at my question. “You don’t know?”

I opened my mouth to be rude as I could.

The Eye showed me.

Showed me exactly how he did that, how it felt, how he saw through the eyes of others so intensely that he didn’t even realize he was projecting himself into those places, visiting and hiding like a Peeping Tom, crouching behind their minds like bushes.

Fool.

But that wasn’t fair. He couldn’t see that. For one reasonable moment, I knew this was how Elias must have felt watching me stumble about, making inane assumptions about my experience because I simply knew no better.

For one human moment, I pitied him and his ignorance.

Then I went back to rude. “Of course I know. Better than you, in fact. You’re wrong.”

Dear lord, I’d hurt him. His whole expression twitched, lips trembling for a beat, eyes downcast as though my opinion meant so much.

That wouldn’t last. I was certain. 

God disapproves of me, he was thinking without words.

“For the last time, I’m not a god of any kind!” I snapped.

He looked up. A keen look, cold as ice and sharp as, too. 

“Right, here he is,” said Sasha, followed by the tiny black drone broadcasting this mess to Leitner. “Jonah? How do you feel? Do you know where you are?”

It took him a long moment to turn toward her. When he did, he became a different man.

The cheerfully squinty smile, the head guiltlessly tilted up, the little lean toward her, the twist of body language so he properly faced her from the waist-up like an open and honest person would—

Gods, I hated him. The level of manipulation…

“I do, Ms. James,” he said.

I shuddered. He’d said Ms.

That was a portmanteau that hadn’t existed until the 1950s, and he’d somehow already adjusted to it. Oh, gods. He was so dangerous.

“Right, good on question two, but you ignored question one, I’m noticing,” Sasha said.

(Of course he couldn’t manipulate her. That was the one aspect of this I didn’t need to fret over.)

“Well,” he said. “I’m not sure, because that is God,” he said and pointed (and I threw my hands into the air), “but he seems to have forgotten, which isn’t something I knew God could do, so I’m a little bit concerned, to say the least.”

Dear lord, it really was him. Different voice, but him, through and through.

“He’s not God,” said Sash. “His name is Jon. He’s an avatar of the Eye, like you.”

Oh, that familiar condescending chuckle—“Oh, no, Ms. James. Definitely not like me.”

It suddenly hit me that I didn’t know why I’d come down here.

Why the hell was I here? What did I think I could learn that I couldn’t simply have known without putting myself in this position? What had I been thinking?

“Well, it is more true than him being God, all right?” said Sasha. “It’s good to see you so very functional, though.”

His gaze had tracked to the drone. “And I’m being watched again—that motion-capturing device?”

“Oh, yes,” she said with great cheer. “Always.”

“Good,” he said, because it made him uncomfortable, and he believed that surveillance that made him uncomfortable created a lovely atmosphere for our patron. 

He was right. And he willingly gave of himself as much as he’d given anyone else he saw, in absolute devotion.

I’d fought consciously feeding It much of the time. I’d certainly never been so giving of myself or willing to sacrifice others. Even when I’d taken live statements, I’d done it for me because I felt like hell and it eased that pain.

But I was still the Eye’s favorite?

Yes.

Was I in danger of being supplanted by this wicked man?

No.

Why the hell not? This made no sense! Why wouldn’t It prefer someone who’d fully given It the world on purpose, and right now, would again?

Jonah looked at me. At Martin. Back at me.

Nothing crossed his face, no visible change occurred to indicate anything, but I knew he didn’t think Martin was good enough. “Why?” he asked again.

Oh, that was the wrong way to go. “Let me make this clear,” I said. “Touch him, try to affect him, do anything to him to harm him or drive him away, and I will make you suffer so much that you’ll believe I am the being who created Hell, do you understand?”

Jonah‘s heart rate picked up; I knew he was afraid, but that’s not what came out. “Oh,” he said in a sweet, smooth tenor. “It seems you certainly remember some of yourself, after all.”

I stared. I looked at Sasha.

“Don’t look at me. This was your idea,” she said.

Martin snorted.

“Don’t even think of harming him,” I added like a moron.

And so smoothly, so instantly, did he switch mindsets that, again, I was shaken. “Of course, lord,” he said. “I’ll protect him as I would myself.”

Damn it. Now what had I done? “That’s not what I meant, either!” I said.

“It’s okay,” Martin murmured to me, hand on my shoulder. “Take it easy. I can defend myself, remember?”

He could. With prejudice. This was not the same man who’d been helplessly thrown to his doom out of pettiness and a bet gone wrong. 

That helped. So much. “Yes,” I said, relaxing. “Yes, you can.” I put my hand over his.

Jonah watched all of that without comment.

Right. I knew what I wanted to say now. “Spy on me again without my permission, and I will dig your gods-damned eyes out of your head with my bare hands,” I snapped, and headed right for the door.

“Sorry about all this,” Martin said to Sasha as we passed.

“No harm done,” she said. “New things learned. Good day, overall!”

Why had I done this?

(The Eye wanted me to know—)

“Hey. Hey, it’s all right. Hey.” Martin stopped me on the stairs and held me tight. “I went off screaming the first time I met Peter here, did I tell you?”

I choked. “You did not tell me.”

“Well, I did. Not in front of anyone, though, because what I actually did was invade his Lonely space just to yell at him.”

I pulled back emough to gawk at him. “You what?”

“I don’t know that I made him cry, but, well,” he said, smile slowly taking over his face. “Any time he saw me for the next month, he ran away like a scared child, so.”

I laughed. “That’s incredible!”

“Well,” he said, pretending to preen.

“Wait. You’re friendly  now. How?”

“We both chose to move forward and try,” he said. “We’ll never be blood brothers, or anything, but we found the way we could live with it.”

“Martin, you’re… you’re amazing.”

He colored. “Just practical, I think? Anyway, that’s all I’m saying. You did really well, for what this was.”

“I don’t deserve your optimism.”

“Nonsense,” he said. “You don’t deserve my ice cream, and therefore will have to get your own.”

“You and comfort food, I swear,” I said.

“It works.”

“You’re absolutely right, it works.”

“Come on.” His arm around my shoulder, our warmth shared, these steps climbed. “You did fine. Nobody says you have to be friends—just not kill each other.”

I leaned. I wanted to say something clever and pithy, but I couldn’t think of anything. I felt exhausted.

Why had I done this?

(The Eye wanted to show me that he belonged to me. )

But why? Why? I didn’t understand!

I envisioned piñatas with Jonah’s face on them and sighed at my own imagination.

“As if I’d let him interrupt this date,” Martin said.

“Aren’t I the one who interrupted?”

“No, you’re the one who defended me against a used-up Eye avatar in a hospital bed, then took me out for ice cream.”

I laughed. “A hopeless romantic, you are.”

“I believe you’ll find history shows me to be calculating and bullheaded,” he said

“Brilliant. And adorable.”

“You’re adorable.”

“Not this, again.”

We exited, walking back out into that frightening sunlight, into the entre world stretched out like a sheet between many hands, ready to catch the fallen.

Maybe it would be safe to trust this. Or maybe I just wanted to, and that yearning for an impossible world would be my undoing.

Or maybe, I could enjoy this day with Martin, then help him set up for his cooking show, then endure whatever pablum he wanted me to watch because I got to do it while cuddling him.

Maybe we could get a cat.

Maybe… we’d be okay.

But deep underground, Jonah pondered me with the devout fervency of a sworn cleric even as he pattered amiably with Sasha, and I felt him.

I didn’t know what I was going to do.

[margridarnauds]

If I may ask another, Romeo et Juliette?

A musical that I have a very, very complex relationship with.

It was one of my first French musicals -- not one of my favorites (I have ALWAYS been an Atia and Chouet girl), but one of my first. Good music, Aimer was one of my eternal, lovestruck romantic songs from my teen years, the OTP song to end all OTP songs; Verona was one of my favorite musical songs (once an Escalus fucker, always an Escalus fucker), I loved C'est le Jour (being used to historical lit and period dramas means I have....no reaction to first cousin marriages, so I shipped Tybalt/Juliet, sorry lads.)

There used to be a dedicated French musicals fandom on here, so I was talking with people who were more invested in it than I was, me and a friend once listened to the London cast together and memed it to death. And when that community imploded, I joined the RetJ fandom more specifically after a couple of years. And...I did enjoy it. I was mainly in my own little corner, but I was talking about it, I was creating content for it. I didn't agree with everything, especially the way that Japanese productions were routinely dismissed, and I thought that people could be very harsh on individual productions in a way that wasn't particularly fun, but...I did enjoy the experience. I did enjoy working with other people, especially since, as a Toho fan and ESPECIALLY as an Escalus fan (and as someone who really cares about the women more than Mercutio), I was very locked in my own little corner with a few other people.

I fell in love with the musical. And with Shakespeare's original. I still think that this is My Adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, because it is really wonderfully faithful while modernizing it without being grimdark or cynical (yes, even the Hungarian.)

And...I refuse to go into details, because I have no intention of dredging up old ghosts, but it ended. Badly. I evacuated myself from the communities I was part of, leaving them to someone who hated me because I didn't want to split the fandom. I wanted to leave quietly, discretely, while potentially keeping some bonds. They used it as an excuse to spread their smear campaign to my old circles, something that I only found out about over a year later. No one bothered to tell me. I noticed that people were pulling away, some people have even blocked me on here, or else quietly unfollowed me, but I didn't know why and I tried to convince myself it was paranoia. I reached out to someone and they assured me that nothing had been said about me. Something I later learned was untrue. I won't accuse that person of lying, because I don't have a timeline, and I understand wanting to keep the peace, but my reputation and my mental stability were NOT acceptable collateral damage. I was suicidal, dammit, and I'm not just mad at the people who started the smear campaign, but the people who didn't bother to listen to me when I needed them the most.

And...I would say I'm not bitter about it, but actually, I am. Of COURSE I'm bitter about it. Even if I wasn't the most active member, I was there for years. I deserved better. And it has profoundly impacted the way that I still carry myself in a fandom context, because some part of me is always looking behind my shoulder. (I. Have never been able to join the BG3 fandom in the way I'd have liked to for a number of reasons, including my ongoing fear caused by this incident.)

...but, by the same token, I did rebuild myself, bit by bit, with Takarazuka musicals, including the Zuka RetJ. I wrote RetJ fanfic for myself and, without having a fandom to worry about appeasing, I wrote what I wanted -- some of my longest fics of the last three years have been Benvolio/Escalus fics that I almost CERTAINLY wouldn't have published when I had the dead weight attached.

So -- gorgeous musical, the Toho production will eternally have a place in my heart. I'm very happy that I can look at it without shaking now.

[aquaticfreakshow-sys]

Woke up thinking about how much we've changed and how much we've gone through in the past few years.

Thinking about how there are people out there who think I'm a bad person, and have such strong misinformation on how I think and behave. Yeah, when I knew them I had done some bad things and questionable things to escape from them, I was very argumentative and easily angered by their actions. I took this out in the exact wrong ways, I know that.

But I was acting out of pure fear, and paranoia. I was being actively abused by multiple people everyday (not them), and constantly triggered (by them) every single day.

I took things out on them, I was afraid of them. They had, many times before, pressured and guilt tripped people into sexual acts and conversations. They actively lied about my beliefs and my actions to their friends, which they actually admitted to. Plus, again, they were constantly bringing up and engaging with my triggers even when asked to stop.

It's no excuse, but it's a reason.

I was mean, and made many mistakes when trying to get away from them. I know that, everyone knows that. Hurt kids just hurting each other, a cycle. I recognize my faults, and I spend long amounts of time thinking about how I could have done those things differently. I regret how I acted then.

I've made so much effort to change.

I was acting like that because I was terrified of them because of what they had done to me in the past, and what they had been lying about, and because they were constantly using my ptsd triggers (literally daily). But really, I had no reason to make it some giant thing like I did, that was immature, ridiculous.

There was no reason, ever, for it to play out that way.

I was dealing with active abuse from my stepdad, my father, and being mistreated by my current partner as well - anyone can ask him about 2020 - 2023 and he'll tell you that we had it bad. Love him more than anything, but he was violent and loud. He's better now, I'm better now, he's improved amazingly in these areas and hasn't been violent since last year. We're still working on the yelling and such, but it's a journey. I've changed, too.

I was also dealing with grief, losing a friend. I won't go into many details there but, my easily angered state was definitely being caused by this. I miss them.

Again, not at all an excuse, but a reason.

Hell, even up until this year I had some bad habits and some unhealthy beliefs. But I'm trying so fucking hard.

I wish I could show people exactly how much I've changed and improved, but its impossible. I get urges to message their old accounts and apologize, but they'd hate that. I don't even know if those accounts are still active or still up. I want everything to be put to rest, ended, anything.

Nothing should have been dealt with publicly or angrily, never should I have done it like that. I should have explained what was going on in depth and asked to separate instead of making big call out things and responding badly. They responded badly alongside me, but I don't care. I started it.

I'm tired of being paranoid. I'm tired of knowing they're feeling paranoid as well, if our last conversation was true.

I've become someone I can be proud of, made friends who can say they know me and back up my claims of growth and change, I have a wonderful partner who has seen me go from my worst into trying to become my best. I want to be seen for who I've become and not the lowest version of myself from back then.

I want to actually apologize for blowing everything up.

I don't regret getting away, we needed to separate, but I regret how it all happened.

Idk if you'll see this, I know you've seen my accounts before and even sent things to me, and idc about that anymore. If you do manage to see this, it's not meant as some letter or anything.

I'm just genuinely thinking about everything. And I'm sorry that everyone had to endure something like that.

[heliads]

Hi can I ask a request where reader is child of the Swan Queen and Siegfried..? And they were sent away as a baby away from storybrooke to protect them from rumplestilskin? And when 17 years later when Peter finds about this he kidnaps them somehow as a blackmail? To defeat Emma and Hook..? But he slowly falls for them? You know like enemies to lovers prompt? Please?

i love writing for peter pan so i'm so glad you requested this!

masterlist

You are barely two miles out of Storybrooke, and already something feels wrong. It’s more than the usual hurt of leaving home, of leaving your family, but something more. This is not grief but fear, raw-edged paranoia, and it eats at you like a hound.

Your footsteps cease in an instant, the crunch of leaves you’d been trying so hard to hide finally falling silent. You turn around slowly, casting your gaze about you, but see nothing other than growing darkness. The shadows at the bases of the neighboring trees seem to grow, stretching out as if they had fingers to touch you. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that the one closest to you almost seems human.

You know better, though. The danger lurks in the town behind you, not in these forests. Your parents sent you away from Storybrooke to protect you from Rumplestiltskin, and there’s no way he’d find you out here. You’re not even sure if you know where you are, so some creepy guy with a bad name couldn’t possibly figure it out.

A wind blows through the trees, shaking a few leaves to the ground. You shiver and turn back around. Worrying isn’t going to help you at this point. Your parents tried to save you by sending you out, you have to make their efforts worth it.

Despite your best attempts, the feeling doesn’t go away. In fact, it gets even worse, as if there’s something right behind you, breathing down your neck. You keep an eye out, but there’s nothing there. You swear you can hear something out in the forest somewhere nearby, but can see no sign of it. It gives you the uncomfortable feeling of being the prey to a rather twisted hunter.

At last, you can take it no more, and call out to the surrounding wilderness. “Whoever’s out there, I know you’re there. Either show yourself or go away.”

Leaves crackle in a dim echo, and then a voice answers you. “Well, if you insist.”

It comes from the space somewhere to your left, and you whirl around to see a boy emerging from the trees. He wears roughspun green clothes, and you can see a long knife strapped to a belt around his hips. Even without his dress, though, you’d be able to tell that something about this boy isn’t right.

The secret lies in his eyes. They’re a bright, fierce green, and they watch you with an uncanny knowledge. Although you’ve never met him before, somehow you know with certainty that he knows everything about you- your parents, your reason for leaving, every secret you have ever tried to hide.

He grins slightly, as if he can tell exactly what you’re thinking. “I’ll admit, this isn’t the most formal setting for us to meet, but it gets the job done. I’m going to need you to come with me.”

You take a step backwards. “Not a chance.” All you know about this boy is that he’s been following you, maybe even since the moment you left town. The idea of going anywhere alone with him doesn’t strike you as smart.

The boy just shakes his head. “I think we’ve both had some sort of misunderstanding. You never had a choice.”

Eyes wide, you turn to run, but he’s suddenly standing before you, having moved across the small clearing in an instant. You make to dodge around him but he extends an arm, catching you by the wrist.

A faint smirk on his lips is the only sign that his demeanor is anything more than solid stone. “Don’t feel too badly about it. Few people can get in between me and what I want.” With that, he snaps his fingers, and the world disappears in a rush of black.

You awake in darkness, fighting a swirl of vertigo currently clouding your vision. At first, you can’t figure out where you are, and then the memories of what just happened come pricking back in at the corners of your head. After everything your parents had done to save you, you’d gone and gotten kidnapped anyway.

Your parents. It hurts to think about them. Your parents are Odette the Swan Queen and Siegfried the prince, one of the best examples of true love persevering over all. They’ve been through a lot together at the hands of Baron von Rothbart, that evil sorcerer, but they were supposed to be happy again. Turns out kind epilogues aren’t given fairly.

You scrub a hand over your face, trying to force the lingering darkness from your vision. When you blink the last of the spots from your eyes, you realize that you’re in the middle of a dense, dark forest, and without knowing how you know it, this isn’t the forest you were in mere moments before. Most importantly, though, there are bars of some kind of wood trapping you in place. When you reach out, testing them, you discover them to be made of something almost like bamboo.

Before you can think too long about why you appear to be in a cage, a boy strides forward from the trees. You feel your shoulders stiffen at the sight of him- it’s the same boy you’d seen in the forest earlier, the one who’d brought you here.

He cocks his head to the side, considering you. “Good to see you’re awake. I couldn’t have you dying on me, could I?”

You elect to ignore that last sentence. “Who are you? Why am I here?”

The boy holds up his hands. “A little slower with the questions, if you will. Technically, if there’s any interrogation going on, it should be me asking you. As a kindness, though, I will tell you my name. I’m Peter Pan.”

He pauses as if you’re supposed to have heard of him, and seems rather disappointed when you give no indication of having heard the name before.

You narrow your eyes. “Well, Peter Pan, why am I in a cage?”

Peter shrugs. “It seemed the easiest way to keep you here. I need something from your parents. Do you know how useful true love is in magic? They survived the attacks of a powerful sorcerer to be together. I could use that. So, I’m going to hold you here until they show up and give me what I want.”

You raise an eyebrow. “How are they supposed to give you true love? Isn’t that more of a concept than a thing?”

Peter just smirks. “I’ll let them decide that. For now, though, I’m content to wait for them to show up. However long that takes.”

It hits you now that this situation has turned from bad to worse. At least when you were running from Storybrooke you could do something. Now, though, you’re stuck. A tendril of anger sparks within you. How dare this boy show up, think he can boss you around like you’re nothing? You’re not nothing. Far from it.

For a moment, you think you’re imagining the smell of gunpowder smoke around you. Then, when the cage cracks and breaks in a sound like a thunderclap, you realize that it’s not in your head at all. You land gracefully on the ground, straightening up and brushing yourself off as if nothing had happened. Slowly, you glance up and meet Peter’s gaze, and it is then that you realize the cage breaking wasn’t just some freak accident.

He looks like he’s seen a ghost. “You did that. You have magic.”

You laugh. “That’s absurd. I have never used magic in my life. Are we sure it’s not just because your cage was rather flimsy and fell apart? This could merely be a matter of shoddy construction.”

Peter furrows his brow, suspicious. “Shoddy construction.”

You nod. “Exactly. I mean, what makes more sense, me suddenly having magic or the wooden twigs of your cage breaking?”

Peter pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s not how this works. It all makes sense now. In killing von Rothbart, your parents were host to a considerable amount of magic, which is now in you.”

You shake your head slowly. “That’s not true. I would know if I had magic.”

Peter takes a slow step closer to you. “Are you sure about that? Things like that only manifest themselves in times of stress, like now.”

It doesn’t make sense. There’s no way you have magic. Yet at the same time as you deny this, something pricks in your heart, as if there’s a voice whispering there. That could work, couldn’t it?

Peter holds out a hand, as if he can tell what you’re thinking. “See? You know it’s true.”

“I don’t know anything.” You spit the words out at him like they’re a foul curse, but he just laughs.

“Say what you will, we both know the truth. Now come on, are you going to make this difficult or no?”

He advances towards you, but you’ve had enough of his cages, both verbal and physical. You turn and run, sprinting through the trees like nothing could hold you back. For some reason, Peter doesn’t appear in front of you like he had before. It’s almost as if he feels he doesn’t have to, like there will be something here to stop you.

That doesn’t matter, though. You can’t afford to spend any more time playing into his traps. You grit your teeth, forcing yourself to run harder. At last, you dodge around a particularly sturdy oak, then come to a juddering stop. You’d thought you would be able to run away, make it to a town or something. You could hide until Peter gave up, then find a way out.

Looking out at the glimmering ocean before you, though, you can feel your every hope of escape start to leave you. The sun dances atop dazzling blue waves as far as the eye can see, meaning you’re on an island in the middle of nowhere. There is no hope coming for you, no chance of getting out. All of this is Peter’s land. No matter how far you run, you won’t go anywhere except back to him.

Peter appears beside you, as if sensing from your crestfallen expression that you’ve come to this conclusion. “You see now, don’t you? There is no leaving Neverland.” Usually, you’d want to hit him with some sort of clever retort, but you don’t have the space in your head to call it to your tongue. All you can do is stand here, staring at the ocean, thinking about how you will never leave this place.

Peter is good to his word, too. You try many times to escape his watchful eye and explore the island, desperate for some sign that there’s someone else out there. Maybe there’s a small fishing community on the banks that’s willing to hide you, or hunters in the woods that could shield you with their numbers. It never lasts long, though. He always finds you, and you always have to return to the camp.

After a while, he gives up on trying to bind your hands and wrists together, allowing you to wander around in the near vicinity of the Lost Boys’ camp. Peter frames it like a kindness, but you both know what it really is- a gesture of nothing. Even if you ran, what good would it do? You can’t go anywhere but circle his island. All Peter has to do is track you down, and then you’re right back where you started.

From there, you have a few options in which to occupy your time. The Lost Boys train every day, sparring with fists and staffs and the bow and arrow. You join in with them from time to time, always appreciating the experience to beat them senseless. Every time your fists hit one of the Lost Boys, you picture Peter’s face in their stead. It leaves you with a grim satisfaction to picture getting back at him in such a violent way.

Your other option is one you prefer to keep hidden. Ever since Peter revealed that you have the ability to use magic, it’s as if you’ve unlocked a door that you didn’t even know existed. At first, you have no idea what to do, how to call it back to you. After the weeks start to blend into months and you grow more frantic for a way to get off of the island, though, it becomes easier to use your magic, as if it can sense your desperation.

Peter knows that you’re trying to tap into your magic, of that you’re certain. He seems knowledgeable of everything on his island, from the tap of your feet upon the ground to the lap of the waves on the shore. You’ve caught him staring at you from across the Lost Boys’ campfire multiple times, like he’s trying to look past your skull and read your mind in pages from a book. He’s after magic of some sort, you know that, and you have no doubt that he’d use you to protect his island if he thought he could.

However, you’re not sure what good your magic could do. Although you seem able to do small spells and such, your best strengths lie in illusions. This makes the most sense- Peter had his theory about you getting your magic from the death of von Rothbart, and the evil sorcerer's biggest spell when it came to your family was changing your mother to look like a swan.

Soon, you grow rather skilled at casting up illusions. At first, you start small, changing the petals of a flower from red to yellow and so on. Then you change your face until you look nothing like yourself, or weave enough of a spell around you that you appear to be back in Storybrooke, not stuck on this terrible island. It delights you, this gift. How strange that you didn’t even know it existed a few months back.

Peter is getting more suspicious, you can tell. He must sense that there is some source of magic on the island that isn’t his. You’re careful to only practice magic when you’re sure he’s busy with something else, but you must not have checked thoroughly today. You’re halfway through changing the tree in front of you to look more like a marble column from an ancient temple when you sense that you are not alone.

You hastily send the illusion away, but you know that you were too late even before you turn around and see Peter standing before you, arms folded across his chest.

To his credit, he doesn’t even seem surprised. All he does is tilt his head to the side curiously, as if studying a rather perplexing puzzle. “Not bad. It almost looked real.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “What do you want? You can’t use my magic, not in the way you want.”

Peter spreads his hands. “Are you so suspicious of everything that I do?”

You give him a look. “You complimented me. That’s nothing short of treason for you.”

Peter has the nerve to grin. “It was a one time mistake, I promise. I won’t do it again. Although,” he pauses to walk slowly towards you, “I wasn’t lying. For someone who just learned about her gift a few months ago, you’ve progressed rather quickly.”

You eye him resentfully. “I had a pretty good motive to learn something, especially if it would help me leave.”

Peter has the grace to look chagrined. Although you’ve found yourself talking more and more with him over the last month or so, nothing changes the fact that you’re only here because he kidnapped you. “Perhaps it was a rather jarring change.”

You find yourself wanting to laugh. “Are you kidding me? You abducted me to your island in the middle of nowhere, all because you hoped for a chance to steal some magic from my parents.”

Something almost like a smile twitches at Peter’s lips. “We all take drastic moves when we feel it’s necessary. Besides, I wouldn’t say that your time on the island has been all bad.”

You shrug. “A few things haven’t been terrible. You’re not one of them, by the way.”

This time, you’re sure of it- Peter does actually smile. It’s so unlike his usual scheming smirk that you’re almost shocked by it. Is it truly Peter Pan standing before you now, or some boy who hasn’t let his face show in centuries? “I’ll take that comment to my grave.”

You roll your eyes, starting to walk past him. “I hope it’s rather soon.”

You go to push him on the shoulder as you go, but Peter catches your hand, spinning you around with as much ease as if he’s been practicing all his life. “Hey, rude. I’m hurt.”

You swat him with your free hand, but the second the blow connects, he takes your other hand, twirling you in his arms until your back is against his chest. Peter’s breath is hot on your neck, and you can feel him on every inch of you.

You stammer slightly, doing your best to pretend you’re unaffected by this. “I don’t care.”

You can hear Peter’s grin in his voice as he lowers his arm to wrap around your hips in the guise of stopping you from moving. “No?”

Your heart is beating wildly in your chest like a bird’s wings, and you can only hope that he cannot hear it. “Not at all.”

Before he can do anything more, and before you do something you regret, you push Peter away from him, holding out an arm as if to keep him away from you. Peter just laughs, the sound tossed away by the breeze. “I almost believe you.”

You’re not sure what that afternoon did, but somehow, it changed everything. You considered Peter barely tolerable, but within a matter of another month, he’s a friend. The two of you bicker like childhood friends, exchanging insults like greeting cards. It’s fascinating, and utterly terrific. You find yourself laughing harder than you have in a long time, and living more brightly and freely than perhaps ever before.

You’re sitting near the fire of the Lost Boys’ camp one day when it happens. It’s the middle of the afternoon, with the other boys either out chasing each other through the trees or trying to improve their archery. You’re fully expecting to go at least another half an hour without seeing anyone, so you’re a little taken aback when the air in front of you starts to shimmer.

At first, you’re just confused. You rise to your feet slowly, one hand rising to the knife on your belt. It was a gift from Peter, one he’d tried to play off as necessary in case he tried to stab you out of irritation but one that’s become your favorite weapon ever since. After a few moments, you realize what the shimmer is- the beginnings of a magic bean’s portal. You can see indistinct figures as the gateway between realms begins to solidify, and feel as if the ground has been pulled out from beneath your feet.

Even without the portal being fully opened, you know who’s waiting on the other side. You know their silhouettes from growing up, having been ingrained in most of your memories. Odette and Siegfried, your parents. They’ve found you at last. However, they’re not alone, and as the portal takes shape, you realize you know the other woman as Regina Mills, the Evil Queen.

A realization hits you like a thunderclap. Here is how it will go: the portal opens, your parents step through and find you, it’s a joyful reunion. Regina, however, convinces your parents to look for vengeance. She feels the magic on the island and wants it for herself. Through some way or another, the island falls, all because of you.

You make your decision before you’re fully aware of it. You spread your hands, calling up your largest illusion yet. The magic ripples around you, drowning out the rest of the Lost Boys’ camp and your own body. When your parents and Regina step through the portal, all they see is a rusting pile of machinery, an abandoned alleyway in a shady street. Nothing special.

Your mother folds her arms across her chest. “What is this, Regina? Where is my daughter?”

Regina just shrugs. “Looks like your information was wrong. She should be right in front of us.”

Both of your parents train their gazes forward, and you have the odd sensation that they’re looking directly through you. At last, they glance around some more, but find nothing. The portal begins to close, so they head back. You wait a few moments after the portal disappears, then relinquish your spell, sighing with the effort and what you’ve just lost. Was it worth it, to give up your shot at being rescued? A quiet voice answers in the back of your head: yes.

Someone speaks behind you. “Why would you do that?”

When you turn around, Peter stands, looking stunned. You glance away, somehow unable to meet his gaze. “They would have taken over the island. Too many of the Lost Boys are happy here, I don’t want to destroy their home.”

Peter shakes his head slowly. “That isn’t the only reason why. You could have done that spell and gone with them. Why did you stay?”

You try to come up with an explanation and come up blank. “I don’t know.”

It’s the honest truth, but Peter seems unconvinced. “You do.”

You look at him incredulously. “What, you think you know better than me? I don’t know, Peter. Accept that.”

He shakes his head again, but this time something almost like a smile tugs at his lips, like he’s figured something out. “I think I know why.”

Before you can ask him what he means, Peter walks towards you, pace quickening with each step. He doesn’t stop, but crashes into you with a kiss that takes your breath away. For a moment, you’re left reeling, and then you return to yourself and kiss him back. Even when he breaks away, you can’t escape the rush of adrenaline, like you’ve jumped off of a cliff and been caught just before you hit the ground.

Peter’s wearing that smile again, the one you’d first seen back when he first saw your illusions. “Looks like I was right.”

You laugh. “Shut up, Peter.”

He does so, but only so he can kiss you again. For once, you let your worries leave you. For once, you decide then and there that you don’t want to leave Neverland, not if you can help it. This is your home, and for once, you’re absolutely fine with it.

ouat tag list: @lovesanimals0000

[honeesucker]

Pairing: Alpha!Bokuto Kōtarō x F!omega reader

Genre: A/B/O AU 🐾 | Smut, 18+ // minors DNI!

WC: 3,057

My whole body was shivering despite it being a sweltering sunny day, my mind was hazy and clouded with the need to submit to an Alpha. 

To be overtaken, pounded into until I was a dumb mess of omega mush and knotted until I was fat with pups.

Fucking hormones and omega instincts.

Fucking expired heat suppressants.

Stupid fucking idiot me for not noticing until it was too late.

My rational mind fought off the swarm of nuisance thoughts as I hurried my way back to my apartment carefully avoiding anyone’s gaze, suffocating my scent glands in a thick hooded sweater and scarf I had kept at the bakery for the unexpected colder days. It didn’t do much to ward off the curious glances and sniffs from the passing Alphas and others on the street, but luckily none acted on instincts, I didn’t stick around long enough to trigger anything in them.

My thighs were sticking together uncomfortably beneath my summer dress as the slick pooled in my panties and ran down the sides. The friction against my sensitive core only added to the ache, and I had to fight every ounce of instinct in me to hold back the whimpers, to not just fall on the ground and present myself to the next suitable Alpha that crossed my path.

I just needed to get home unscathed and get on my pharmacy app to order a fresh batch of suppressants, wait out a week for them to take full affect and I’ll be good to return to my normal, uncomplicated life.

I had been lucky in avoiding anymore people. No one was waking along the final stretch that led to my apartment building; a high-rise nestled just outside of the main district of downtown but still fairly luxurious for an apartment building. After a rough time in my earlier years out on my own, I decided once my bakery was successful enough I would splurge and put myself in a comfortable apartment with extra building security for my own peace of mind. I made my way to the door where the Beta doorman was waiting with it open for me, smiling until he caught the edge of my currently overwhelming scent.

“Quick, quick in miss Y-N,” Ferris ushered me through the door and shut it behind us. Walking me to the empty elevator and pushed my floor, nearly the top, at 27 of 35. “You shouldn’t be out wandering around in such a state, it isn’t safe for you!” The older man patted my hands in his with a worried expression. I just smiled and nodded along to his worrying over me.

“I know Mr. Ferris,” I sighed, “there was an unfortunate mishap with my medication so I’m gonna be staying cooped up for a bit.” He just nodded and ushered me along, and I gave a small wave and smile as the doors closed and he gave me one final wave off. I sighed, releasing the death grip I had on the jacket around me, still covering my scent glands as best as I could, but not with so much force around my throat. I’m surprised I didn’t pass out from self-asphyxiation on the way home.

After a few minutes in the elevator my floor was finally reached with a gentle ding! and I was hurrying out into the hall to make sure I was alone. With no one around I felt safe enough to walk briskly to my apartment without any further paranoia. I was reaching my door, just about to press in my key code and slink into a week of needy depression when I heard the door slighty adjacent to mine across the hall open behind me. 

My whole body froze like a bunny caught in a wolf’s gaze.

Fuck.

“Hey hey hey, my sweet little Y/N!” A bright, jovial baritone rang out behind me, and soon I felt the looming presence of the man I feared most coming into contact with at this very moment right at my back. The immense heat radiating off of him in waves with his sweet, clean scent with mint, along with a headier male musk underneath. “You’re home early! Sorry to be a pest but did you bring any pastries home with you? I have such an awful craving right now and-” my kind, handsome neighbor regarded me silently, and what I didn’t see were his sweet golden eyes darkening to a dangerous lustful shade as he leant forward and took a gentle sniff in. A ragged breath leaving his chest as he inched forward just enough for me to feel his clothing ghosting against my back. “Y/N? Are you okay? You smell.... you s-smell so good. Different,” he slurred behind me, leaning down to rub his cheek against the top of my head and nose my hair as he took in deeper breaths. I was completely frozen, in fear or need... I couldn’t decide.

Maybe both.

When my neighbor let out a deep, rumbling groan from inside his chest I leant more towards need in my current aching state as I instinctively pressed my body back against his. “Y-Y/N you shouldn’t be out right n-now in your state s’not safe y’know...” his voice trailed off, a pained mixture of a whimper and a growl leaving his chest as I reached forward and punched in my key code to my apartment.

“Ko,” I heard the Alpha behind me purr as his name slipped from my mouth, my voice and body trembling. “I had a bit of a setback as you can tell, so no pastries today,” the whimper that left him made my cheeks warm because it wasn’t hormonal, it was just Bokuto being a pouty baby who wanted a soft bread or sweet cake.

“Mm s’okay Y/N...” Bokuto’s voice trailed off as he placed his large hands on my hips, palms swallowing my sides and pressing tightly into the plush flesh, fingers gripping down with a bruising force. He was leaning forward and placing soft kisses along my shoulder and up my neck until he licked a small strip up along where my scent glands were and I couldn’t stop the full-body shudder than shook me. “D-do you want me to stop?” His voice was a whisper, still heavy with need but more Bokuto than Alpha was talking to me. I shook my head, stepping into my apartment and allowing the Alpha to come in with me, slipping out of our shoes in a tangled mess of legs, and laughing as Bokuto hastily locked the door behind him.

“I know we’re both kind of teetering on the edge of control right now,” Bokuto continued gently, hands still gripping my sides tightly as he allowed me to set my things down on the bench in my entryway. A low growl leaving him when I almost slipped out of his hold. “But I need to know it’s not just your omega pushing you into this Y/N. I’ve admired you since I first met you, wanted you,” Bokuto was peppering my neck and the side of my face with butterfly kisses, “but if you tell me to stop, to leave... I will. Nothing will change between us if you put up a boundary for yourself right now but everything will change for the worse if you force yourself into something you don’t want...” I couldn’t believe the articulated thoughts of pure, sweet kindness coming out of Bokuto’s mouth but I was so happy to hear them. I’ve had such a huge crush on my long-time Alpah neighbor since he came knocking on my door one late evening when I was testing recipes, a mess of apologies and need as he caught a whiff of the new cakes I was trying to perfect and the poor thing had just returned home from an away game with his volleyball team, starving and exhausted. He spent the night giving me feedback on my testers and I let him sugar-crash on my couch, waking him up with a healthier breakfast more suitable for an athlete in the morning. 

We’ve been close since that day.

Well, close but not as close as right now... despite the aching deep in me that always welled up inside whenever we spent time together. My omega whimpering at how perfect of an Alpha Bokuto would be.

“Y/N?” Bokuto was asking once again, I could feel his hands shaking as his control over his instincts began to slip. 

I simply nodded.

“Y-yes Ko,” I swallowed hard when his hands gripped tighter on my hips, crushing me further against him as his arms snaked up my body to wrap me in a tight hold from behind. “I want this - I’ve wanted this, w-wanted you...” I couldn’t form full thoughts, not like he deserved to hear but we were both in a compromising state of mind right now. “P-please Alpah, need you so badly,” that was all it took to have me turned around so fast in his arms, his lips crashing against mine in a mess of teeth and saliva as pure need took over us both. One of his hands was fisted in the hair at the back of my head, the other cupping the side of my throat, his thumb stroking along my jaw as he deepened the kiss like he was trying to crawl inside my body through my mouth. 

He was pushing me back toward my couch, his hands now fumbling behind me to pull the zipper of my dress and have the fabric pooling to the ground. He growled into my mouth as he hooked two fingers in the hem of my lace panties to pull them down and off while his other hand guided me down softly onto the couch. He had me draped over the arm of the sectional as he layed down between my legs, I was able to peek open my heavy eyes in time to see the primal look on his face before he licked his lips and leant down to lick a long strip up my soaked pussy, the sensation sending electric shocks through my whole body as I arched off the couch with a yelp.

Bokuto let out a deep, rumbling growl with a whisper of “so sweet,” before diving back in and devouring my sopping pussy like a man starved. His mouthed latched around my swollen clit with a pressure that had me seeing stars as he suddenly plunged two thick fingers into me, curling upward against my sticky walls, quickly bringing me to the edge. He didn’t relent his assault on me, mouth staying locked on and fingers curling cruelly as my body shook and arched up off the couch with a shrill scream, my whole body convulsing with wave after wave of electric pleasure shocks. Bokuto removed his fingers slowly and licked them clean, blowing a cool stream of air against my sensitive clit, causing me to whimper in his hold as he delved his tongue into me to lap up more of my slick. I was a whimpering mess above him, wriggling to be free of the stimulation to the newly over-sensitive area but he kept his pink muscle deep in my pussy as his nose occasionally brushed up against my clit causing my hips to buck further against his face. The groans he was letting out were downright sinful and soon had me back on the precipice of another impending orgasm. Bokuto reached one hand up to thumb circles on my clit as he kept himself deep in my pussy, soon I was bucking up against his face as another heavy wave crashed down on me. I was panting and swearing and pleading to be released because the pleasure was stating to morph with a tinge of pain as he kept up the relentless assault.

“K-Ko please no more,” I was whining above him, my chest heaving with broken breaths. Bokuto’s mouth was shiny with my slick as he crawled up my body and crashed his lips down on mine. I could taste myself on his tongue, in combination with feeling his still-clothed cock straining against his joggers, had me mewling with need and bucking up to meet his bulge.

“You say no more but your body is begging for me,” Bokuto muses. “Do you want me to stop?” His golden eyes were looking down at me, dark and swirling with lust as a beautiful half-smile graced his face. I shook my head and he just chuckled. “Use your words baby, ask for what you want,” he cooed, leaning down to pepper kisses and gentle nips along the side of my neck, stopping to suck on a particular spot once my let out a gasp and wriggled beneath his large body caging me in.

“Mmphf, p-please Ko, Alpha, need you,” my cheeks were burning but I didn’t care, my whole body was on fire for the man on top of me, crying out to him for any crumb he’d give me, “need your cock-mm-need to feel so full with you please Alpha, please,” Bokuto crashed his lips back down against mine with an urgent need while he ground his hardened cock against my slick-covered core, the friction of the fabric bringing another whine from my throat.

“How can I say no to such a pretty omega begging to be knotted, hm?” Bokuto was nuzzling down into the crook oh my neck, “pretty omega, perfect omega, my omega.” I didn’t realize when he had shimmied out of his joggers but soon I felt the large tip of his cock pressing into my hole, even with two orgasms and the slight stretch from his fingers earlier it still burned so wonderfully to be full of Bokuto’s cock, every inch of his cock catching on my walls and dragging new sensations forward as I clawed at his back, wrapping my arms and legs around him in an attempt to be closer to him, to pull more of him inside of me. “Such a needy slut for her Alphas cock, hmm?” I nodded my head so vigorously, rolling my hips to coax the man above me into moving. “Poor thing, I’ll give you everything you need...” with a quick snap of his muscled hips, his thick cock was driven deep, the head pummeling against my cervix with blinding pressure as he slammed his hips over and over into me, heavy balls slapping against my slick-coated ass sending shivers up my spine. “Fuck, ‘mega, you’re so tight-fuck- so fucking perfect, so perfect for me.” Bokuto was all bared teeth and snarls above me, leaning down to kiss and bite over his earlier marks along my neck. I craned my neck, exposing more of myself to his assault as he kept up the brutal pace inside of me. It didn’t take long before I was crying out with the sudden hit of an orgasm I didn’t even feel the buildup to, the walls of my pussy were sucking a Bokuto in deeper with each of his thrusts, and soon I could feel the way his hips stuttered, sloppy and less practiced. I didn’t realize his teeth were on me, biting deep into the flesh of my neck where my scent glands were, blood spilling out of the wound and into his mouth and down my neck and chest as Bokuto marked me as his, licking one long, final strip up my neck across the wound, sealing it.

There was a final quick snap of his hips, until Bokuto’s large knot stretched me with a burn that had me whimpering, gasping when it popped through the small opening of my pussy, slick helping to coax it inside as my walls clamped down on him and his knot further in another orgasms as he emptied ropes of hot, white cum deep inside of me. The continued short, sharp thrusts Bokuto made as he continued to empty himself inside of me brought on one more orgasm, my whole body siezing and shaking, walls clamping down around the fleshy member knotted inside of me, my chest was heaving with deep breaths as my eyes edged with black and every small twitch Bokuto made inside of me had me crying out - with pleasure or pain or both - I couldn’t tell. He leant down to scoop me up, our bodies still connected as he sat down on the catch and allowed me to stradle his lap, nestling me tightly against his chest as he kissed my hair and whispered such sweet things to me over and over, petting my hair, my face, peppering kisses along my cheek, jaw, down my throat and to my shoulder, gliding over the mark he made earlier with a gentle ghost of a kiss. My whole body felt like a live-wire ready to make contact with the wrong type of metal at any given moment, but Bokuto kept rubbing small patterns over my exposed skin, kneading his fingers deep into muscles I didn’t realize were sore, kissing un-kissed inches of skin over and over until he felt me relax in his arms, felt my body droop with exhaustion as I rested my head on his shoulder, snuggling into the crook of his neck as I bit back into him, giving him a small omega mark. Bokuto shuddered beneath me, gripping me tighter as I licked up the blood and kissed over the already-healing mark, nuzzling back into him.

“Y/N~” Bokuto said in a whisper sing-song voice, shaking me gently, “I think we can separate now baby,” he said, trying to lift me off of him gently.

“Mm, no Ko,” I grumbled, a gentle growl leaving my throat, “wanna stay like this  a little longer.” Bokuto just nodded, rubbing my back and resting his head on my shoulder.

“Yeah, a little longer baby,” he mused, “but then can you bake me something?”

You just shook your head, your body shaking with held-in laughter as you agreed to bake him as many sweets as he wanted just as soon as you could walk. Bokuto offered to do all the heavy lifting if you just told him what to do - and you relished in the idea of sharing the kitchen with Bokuto - with your Alpha.

What a sweet start to something beautiful. 

[dickwheelie]

yall ever think about the fact that martin gave jon a jar of jane prentiss's ashes as a present? fuckin wild. anyway here's a ficlet

____________

"Can I ask you something."

Jon's voice was casual, but there was a tension beneath it that Martin didn't know what to do with. "Sure," he said, "anything."

Jon sighed. "This is going to sound . . . weird, now. And maybe a little petty. But--Jane Prentiss's ashes."

Now that was a name he hadn't heard in a while. Martin looked across the bed at Jon, but he was facing the far wall, his expression neutral. "What about them?"

"Were they real?" Jon looked at him then. "I know, I asked back then and you told me they were, but--were you just saying that to make me feel better? Or were they really . . . erm. Her?"

Martin almost laughed. What a conversation to be retreading, two years and a lifetime later. He remembered carrying the small container through the archives to Jon's office, his hands shaking not with fear, for once, but with relief; the thought that she was finally, finally gone, and they were all safe, that Jon was safe, running through his head like a mantra. Jon's mood upon receiving the ashes had been doubtful, yes, and he had questioned Martin thoroughly, but beneath his steely demeanor Martin could tell he was just as relieved.

If they'd only known that Prentiss would be the least of their troubles.

Back in the safehouse, Martin said to Jon, "They were real."

Jon took a deep breath, but nodded as though he'd expected that answer. "Okay," he said. "Okay. Thank you. I . . . I just wanted to make sure."

"Yeah," said Martin. He joined Jon in staring at the bedroom wall. "I get it."

"I still can't believe you gave that to me as . . . as a gift," Jon said, with a slight laugh.

"Should've put a bow on it, really," said Martin, which made Jon smile. "I just wanted you to feel safe, you know. Even if we weren't really. But knowing she was gone, like gone-gone . . . I thought that might help."

Jon nodded. "It did help. I . . . this is going to sound odd, but I think that was one of the things that . . . made me want to trust you, back then. I know I was--I wasn't great, during that time to--to any of you."

"Jon, it wasn't you. It was the Eye."

"Either way. I was a mess. The--the point is, even when I couldn't trust you, I wanted to. So badly. You saw how relieved I was when I found out about your CV."

Martin smiled at the memory. Nothing in the archives up to that point had been more shocking than seeing Jon's face light up when Martin confessed about his fake CV. He'd been so completely confused for a minute before Jon stopped laughing long enough to explain. "Yeah. I remember."

"So every time I felt myself starting to distrust you, I . . . I'd open my bottom desk drawer and look at Prentiss's ashes. To remind myself that you did something for me, without any ulterior motive. That you cared." Jon swallowed. "It made me feel a lot better, knowing you cared."

"Jon." Martin was touched; he hadn't known Jon had felt that way about him then. By the time he'd returned from America, Martin had started to suspect it, but not back when Jon was at the height of his paranoia. The mental image of Jon alone in his office, too afraid to talk to anybody or confess his suspicions, holding the little jar of ashes for comfort, was almost too much to bear.

"In retrospect, it was sort of . . . romantic," Jon said. "Like a . . . a gesture of fealty."

Martin laughed. "Fealty? Jon, we had desk jobs. Or we thought we did."

"I--I don't know! Something like that," Jon said, blushing. He was cute when he was bashful, Martin thought. And even though it was a bit weird, it was also very Jon to find romance somewhere in the bottom of a jar of ashes. Maybe the possibility of getting Jon to enjoy some morbid poetry wasn't completely out of the question.

"Well," Martin said, "if it made you feel that way, I guess I'll have to do it again."

"What, hand me people's ashes as a romantic gesture?"

"Sure. The ashes of our enemies. And Jonah Magnus is first on that list."

Jon snorted. "Good luck waiting on the death of a man who's been hopping bodies for two hundred years."

"Who said anything about waiting?"

Jon glanced over at him, and Martin made a slicing motion across his throat. Jon's eyes widened, impressed. "So you'd kill Jonah Magnus yourself, then?"

"And deliver his cremated body to you on a silver platter," Martin said, with a satisfactory nod.

Jon let out a burst of laughter before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Martin."

"What?"

Jon looked at him with a surprised but pleased expression. "That just may be the nicest thing anyone's offered to do for me."

"I mean, you basically did the same for me with Lukas," Martin pointed out. "And that was out of love, too."

"Huh." Jon blinked. "I guess it was."

"See? That's how you do romance," Martin said. "Big romantic gesture, that. You're in for a world of those when I get my hands on some of those fear avatars that are still wandering around out there."

Jon was still looking at him as though he wanted very badly to be embarrassed but was simply too pleased for it. "I look forward to it," he said.

"In the meantime . . ." Martin raised his arm, and Jon immediately moved under it, tucking himself against his side in a way that had grown familiar over the past week or so. He knew Jon liked to be under his arm, as though it were another defense against the world outside the stone walls of the safehouse. "Small romantic gestures will have to do, I guess," he said.

"Not small," Jon murmured, absentmindedly running a hand down Martin's side, over his lovehandles and down to his hip. He leaned up to kiss Martin, and Martin agreeably followed. "Just the right size."

[bangtangalicious]

death valley (m) | part 8

summary: welcome to death valley. once you’re in, there’s no telling whether you’ll make it out alive. a summer internship turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize

pairing: ot7 x f.reader smut ft: jin x reader, jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader

genre: smut. yandere. mystery. thriller. gang!au rockstar!au fightclub!au

wordcount: 9.0k

warnings: reader discretion advised. rough sex, physical roughness, sadism kink, pain kink, breast play, fingering, elevator sex (semipublic), praise kink, dirty talk, unrealistic endurance (this is one day LMAO), attempted fire play, bondage, guns, attempted shootings, knife play if you squint, spanking, degradation (name calling, slut shaming, being really mean lolol thanks jin), crying kink? lot of crying, toxic and manipulative behaviors, jin steps on you so there’s that, character death, heavy drug use, paranoia/fear, voyeurism, sex while intoxicated, me trying to put some humor where i can, sweet dom!jungkook, wild dom!jin, and a sprinkle of dom!taehyung ;) ALSO eyebrowpiercing!jungkook. very important. 

a/n: s/o soowoozoo!bts for being my inspo. 

part 0 | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | series navi | masterlist |

F L A S H F O R W A R D--

Goosebumps spread across your skin as the silence set in. The room was chilly, air conditioner buzzing in contrast to the slick humidity of the summer night waiting for you outside. The white light made your eyes ache, the walls were plain, dry, empty.

You stared blankly at the table in front of you. The sound of the pen scratching paper made you ache, remembering kinder days when you and Hobi would be goofing around and writing songs. How did you get here? How did you let this happen?

The previous night, you had dreamt of being at a concert, somewhere far from Death Valley. Losing yourself to music and molly, a soft pair of hands on your hips as you danced the night away, singing at the top of your lungs. Those same hands wrapping around your waist, nose tracing behind your ear to whisper to you how pretty you were. How hot you looked and how badly he wanted to tear your clothes off with his teeth. 

You allowing him to pick you up so easily, take you back to his car where you scrambled into the back seat. Like children. The first kiss was magic, you were glued to him and could barely move on. He wouldn’t leave you for a second, he wouldn’t let you breathe. Your lips were hot on each other, soft moans and giggles. Swallowed smiles as you drank one another in, bodies like waves crashing against each other.

Hands wandering until he had you where he wanted. Where you wanted. He loved you down so incredibly good. How he was able to tear you apart while still being so sweet, you could barely even fathom. His teeth dug into the flesh of your breasts, fingers hooking around your panties. 

His tongue ravished your figure. There was no part of you left untouched, no part of you that wasn’t completely ablaze with arousal. You would arch your neck back as he lapped away at the sweetness dripping between your legs, your hands combing through his wavy black hair.

His tongue knew where to go, he knew how you liked it, and your fist clenched as he fucked you with his mouth through and through. He always made sure you came first. Always. Every single time.

Whether you had mere minutes or long hours, he loved the way you tasted, making sure you knew that at every chance he got. Sloppy wet kisses traveled up your stomach to your chest, up your neck, hands caressing your ass, scratching your back, holding you close for a moment. 

You were whisked away into heaven, just briefly, as his thick cock would push into you. Your pussy pulling him in, wanting to feel the familiar but oh so incredible stretch that only he gave you. 

Taehyung. You sobbed as he fucked you, allowing him to kiss the glossy tears off of your cheeks as he rolled his hips, angling so perfectly to nudge deep within you. His sinister grin, his giggles, his chaos. You were in the hands of disaster but you never felt more safe. 

Why are you crying dumbass? He would find your state amusing, continuing to fuck you, thrusts long and smooth. Quick, but slow enough for you to savor each second. Your whining lost behind the wet sound of your bodies colliding.

Where are you? Are you watching this right now? You’re not really dead are you?

Stroking your cheek, he leaned down to whisper against your mouth. The words he would keep on saying, echoing back to you. Play along. I won’t hurt you.

What exactly you were playing, you were unsure. 

“Look at me” Your eyes darted up to meet Jin’s deceivingly innocent eyes. “I’m gonna ask you again, did you kill Kim Taehyung?” 

You gulped, sweat collecting onto the cold handcuffs around your wrists. Jin glanced at the mirrored wall, before letting out a heavy sigh. 

“It appears that Kim Taehyung was murdered about two hours before the party. We found your gun near the body.” Jin holds up the custom weapon Yoongi had given that was unmistakably yours. “Where were you at that time?” You felt your eyes getting heavy.

“I was” You lips were chapped, mouth clammy with a bitter taste. You looked him dead in the eye, stomach sickened by the amusement glistening within them as you struggled with your response. You knew he was getting a kick out of it. You wanted to spit on his face. You wanted to slap him, to scream, to flip the table and break out of the windowless room that caged you.

“I was with...y..” Jin smirked, leaning back. You cleared your throat, mind running a mile a minute.

“With who Y/n?”

You glared at him. He was treating this as some sort of role play. You felt queasy at the thought. Someone was dead. Dead. 

“You. I was with you”

F L A S H B A C K--

The morning rays slid through the expansive glass wall of the hotel room, causing Yoongi’s eyes to flinch, squinting as they opened and took in the day that presented itself. He sighed heavily, the weight of the previous night still on his mind. You were still asleep, but he could see through the chaffing beneath your wrists that you were not comfortable. He took the leash and fastened it to the headboard, ensuring you had no escape. 

Grabbing his keys, Yoongi quickly got dressed in a white hoodie and left the room. He needed to find out the truth for himself. He couldn’t afford to have you lying to him already. 

It was so frustrating to him that you couldn’t just be honest with him. He had been immensely open with you even if he was not proud of what he had to share. Why would you hide things? Hadn’t he proven himself to you? Hadn’t he done everything to win your heart?

Yoongi sighed. His anger issues were core to his being. It was part of his true self, but he had spent years trying to become someone you would fall in love with. All he wanted to do was make home in your heart, but no matter how many of your suitors he ended up threatening, beating to a pulp, and forcing them to bail on you, there was nothing in his power that could tear down that goddamn Park Jimin poster on your bedroom wall.

There was nothing he could do to stop you from writing small fantasies in your journal that you kept stashed in your bedside drawer. 

Yoongi would be lying if he said he didn’t come close to killing Jimin multiple times before. But he realized that would not have delivered him a solution. If Jimin died, you would mourn. You would still harbor that love for him and never have an opportunity to see what he really was. It was because of this Yoongi, with Taehyung’s helpful insight, had orchestrated a way to destroy Jimin in your eyes. 

Jimin was then introduced to Yoongi’s two weapons of destruction, Taehyung and cocaine. Yoongi worked hard to build himself up as a successful music producer. He had to be better than Jimin, had to make sure he could offer you everything Jimin could and more. 

To his surprise, you did move on from Jimin, at least the reality of him. But this fantasy of who he used to be remained pinned to your heart. After Jimin quit music, the mention of his name would still cause you to blush and smile. It made Yoongi want to throw up.

You had to see for yourself. Yoongi learned what it was that attracted you to Jimin and embodied just that. You liked that you had to chase him, you liked that he didn’t give a shit about you. You liked that he never noticed you and you had to pine for his attention. You liked that he was dedicated to his music, you liked the lifestyle he was associated with. You liked his lack of emotion and fantasized of him showing his true colors to you and only you, a sensitive, sweet, charming guy. Anger was not a part of this persona at all. 

When he felt like he had driven Jimin crazy enough with the drugs, he decided to plant rumors on stan twitter that Jimin would be signing with his label. Using his personal relationship with the singer, he was able to sign him on. He conveniently then offered you a summer internship, knowing full well you would be coming for one reason alone. Park Jimin.

Yoongi wanted you to fall straight into his arms. He rented out every available apartment for the months you were searching for a place to live, forcing you to reside in his building. He wanted to win you over naturally. He wanted you to work with Jimin, hook up with Jimin, and end up loathing him. Loving Yoongi instead. 

Jimin’s gang activity was getting on Yoongi’s nerves. Taehyung told him Jimin was in Death Valley, that you saw Jimin at Death Valley. When Yoongi heard from you, not Taehyung, that you had been kidnapped, along with Namjoon nonetheless, Yoongi had enough. He was used to giving Taehyung plenty of unsupervised jurisdiction, so Jimin’s accident was not a surprise to him. 

But you sympathized with Jimin, which was not what he wanted. He then decided to take things into his own hands, threatening Seokjin into throwing the fight to leech Jimin of every cent he had. He broke into your apartment, fucking everything up so that you had no choice but to come to him. To need him. 

And when Jin didn’t lose, he had no choice but to reveal to you who he was. Even after all his honestly, all his trust, you still lied to him. 

Yoongi was furious. He arrived at Death Valley, using the front entrance. Pulling a mask over his face, he barged in, surveying the silence as a sign that the bar was empty. Through the kitchen he arrive at the back storage room, accessible only by key, where all of the surveillance had been set up years ago. 

Monitors were spread across the wall, but Yoongi’s eyes narrowed in at one that was coming up with no feed. Your apartment. Someone had fucked with the cameras. Yoongi types away at the main monitor, enlarging your apartment footage and reeling back to find the moment the device was destroyed.

He sees Taehyung, whispering something to you. Next thing he knows the stream is blank. He grits his teeth, as all the pieces fall into place. He was a fool. How could he have been so blind? Taehyung must be in love with you. He must have, after watching you for so many years. Yoongi scowled at the thought of the ways Taehyung may have seen you, naked, vulnerable, ways that only he should. 

He had trusted Taehyung. Taehyung had only ever shown interest in money and Yoongi thought that was enough. Taehyung must have fucked you over and over again once the cameras were dead. What a whore. It made sense then that he had cut the line through his branding on you. He was the only one who could have. He had access to you and he was psychotic! He must have forced you to lie. You wouldn’t ever hide anything from Yoongi, no, Yoongi was the man of your dreams. You felt grateful that you had him, didn’t you?

He tilted his head, cracking his knuckles before he punched the glass screen, causing the feed to go haywire and sparks to erupt. Kim Taehyung. You are dead to me.

Yoongi growled lowly before picking up his phone. “It’s me. I need to see you. Now” 

-

Hobi kept his hand on the small of your back as he led you down to the hotel bar. The two of you nodded politely at the staff members who were busily preparing for the big event. The bar was empty aside for a few guests enjoying their brunch-time mimosas.

Hobi couldn’t really revel in the fact that the two of you were getting drinks together, almost like a date. His mind was too caught up in the initial shock he felt when he saw you tied up in his boss’ bedroom. He felt upset, but moreso he felt violated. He wondered if you were getting taken advantage of. Did he promise you a promotion? Was he manipulating you?

Punishing someone like that, Hobi was never one to kink shame, but it seemed a bit much. The name burned into your skin did nothing to ease his concern. Someone who was possessive, violent, impulsive. It reminded him of...

Hobi didn’t know. He didn’t know who gave him orders. He really didn’t care once the cash rolled in, but it began hitting too close to home. He wasn’t thrilled about hurting Namjoon, but two duffel bags of cash were enough for him to momentarily set aside his morals. 

“What should I get?” You surveyed the small menu of cocktails. “What’s gonna fuck me up the fastest?”

Hobi snorted, “Tequila” He twirled your hair as your gaze remained glued to the menu. The thought of you being in danger upset him greatly “Y/n...when did Yoongi brand you?" You called the bartender ordering a line of shots to which the they glanced at the clock before giving you a weird look.

“The night of the rematch” You told him, reacting before you realized what you had said. Your lip tucked between your teeth as you tried to conjure an excuse. A row of shot glasses was placed in front of you. You took one, gulping it down before letting out a heavy sigh. The bitterness burned down your throat. You basked as the liquid hit your mind, easing you slightly.

“Yoongi was at the fight?” Hobi recalled the wild night that the three of you had been at Death Valley. It was the first time he ever saw the man giving him orders. The man was tall, broad, had dark hair and wore dark clothes, face covered in a mask. Could it have been...Yoongi?

“Y/n!” The two of you turned to see Jungkook approaching the bar. He had changed his hair, the blue swapped for a short black cut, and you couldn’t help but double take at his new eyebrow piercing. 

You downed another shot, glancing at Hobi who had raised his eyebrows seeing the drug dealer. Jungkook gave you a light hug, waving timidly to Hobi. You smirked, another shot down the hatch. “Easyyyy Y/n” He placed a hand on your back as he slid into the seat next to you.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Hobi sneered. Jungkook rolled his eyes, used to the condescending treatment of gang members. "Didn’t you get stabbed or something?”

“I did!” Jungkook grinned, “In fact, that’s exactly why I’m here. I think I figured out who Mr. Bossman is, and I wanna fucking kill him”

Hobi rolled his eyes, “Oh really”

“Kim Seok-motherfucking-Jin baby. He stabbed me. He’s the one who showed up and threatened me to move out of Y/n’s apartment, so he’s probably also the one who called for the kidnapping. And he might have called for Jimin’s accident. It makes so much fucking sense”

Jin did what? There was not enough alcohol in your veins to act like you didn’t fully understand what he had just said. Jin had Jungkook move out? It wasn’t impossible. And that’s what scared you. You blinked at Jungkook incredulously, “But he’s literally a police officer”

Jungkook’s grin widened, “Exactly! It’s fucking brilliant. He’s a cop, he fights for the other side. He wins no matter what and can never get caught. No one would ever suspect him. Winning despite being threatened? Who threatened him huh? It’s a fucking ploy. You’re not dead and neither is he I bet. Kingpin. Boom”

You felt sick, knowing that Yoongi was not the only person you needed to be worried about. It was almost funny how blatantly misinformed Jungkook was. “Wow you guys are idiots.” You muttered under your breath, taking another shot before coughing roughly. Should I tell them? Why did Jin lie? Is this even the truth? Jin always tried to pin things on Jungkook, but you defended him. Hearing his words now made your head spin. He’s lying. Jungkook is lying. You wanted to scream, frustration flooding through your veins as you clenched your fists.

“I’m gonna tell Jimin and Taehyung what I know. They will give me so much money dude.” Jungkook chuckled, “And then they’d kill him, oh God finally”

Hobi pursed his lips, mouth feeling dry as he reflected on Jin’s eerie words before he shot him in the leg. He didn’t know where Jin was anymore, handing him off to be taken somewhere. It didn’t make sense. His orders were to seize Jin if Jin won the fight. Why place an order like that all? Why do any of this?

“Y/n, come with me.” Jungkook tugged at the sleeve of the oversized Nirvana shirt you had thrown on after your shower session with Hobi. You giggled, the thought of Taehyung coming into your slowed thoughts like a hurricane, tearing up any understanding you thought you had of the situation. There was only one thing you believed. Only one thing you knew with full certainty and it was all you could hold onto.

“Oh my goodness it’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. It’s always been Yoongi” The words spilled from your lips like the tequila that dripped down the side of your lips as you took yet another shot, giggling like a ditz. Jungkook and Hobi exchanged confused looks with each other, only making you laugh more. “I would fucking know okay!” Your laughs grew loud, “I was locked up in his fucking apartment and where the hell were all of you huh? Dumb fucking idiots!” You buckled over, laughing into Jungkook’s chest.

“Jungkook” Hobi sighed, “I gotta get back to work. Can you get her sober please?” Jungkook nodded. He held your waist tightly helping you stand, walking with you carefully to the hotel elevator.

The laughter wouldn’t stop. Passerbys shot the two of you dirty looks as Jungkook pulled you into the elevator easily. Through it’s glass walls you could see the midday skyline, where outside people hustled through life as if everything were normal. Must be fucking nice. “Y/n” Your laughs began to choke in your throat, turning instead to the sobs you tried to suppress with whatever will you had left. 

Jungkook placed his soft lips on your shoulder. Hands sliding onto your waist as he peered at you curiously, “Y/n, is everything okay?”

You shook your head, the elevator door closed as tears began forming in your eyes. Your voice croaked, “I’m dead. He’s gonna kill me. T..taehyung is gonna kill me. I...I know he will. He’s everywhere. Everywhere.” You looked around frantically, suddenly feeling hyperaware of the security cameras littered throughout the public space. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone...I” You hiccuped. Jungkook pulled you into a tight hug.

“It’s okay ssh” He stroked his thumbs them across your cheeks, cupping your face affectionately. “I’m here aren’t I?” You sniffled, nodding lightly. “I got you okay. No one is gonna hurt you”

You stared into his kind brown eyes. You did not trust him, your entire body was screaming at you not to trust him. His fingers danced down your figure, freely gliding over your heaving chest, desperately trying to breathe with the fear that choked you from within.

You blinked at him, eyes glancing down at his pouty lips before finding his eyes again. “Y/n” Jungkook whispered, barely inches from your lips. “I won’t let anyone hurt you okay. I promise”

Fat tears rolled down your face at his words. Jungkook clicked his tongue, cooing at you as he continued to wipe away your hears. “Oh you poor thing” He held you to his chest, kissing the top of your head, before tilting your face up to his. 

He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as his lips landed on yours, swallowing you into him. The taste of tequila was evident on your lips as he kissed you softly, and you allowed yourself to surrender to his warm touch.

You felt heat pooling in your chest as his fingers trailed up your legs. He traced circles into the inside of your thighs, letting his fingers tease the edge of your shorts. 

“Jungkook” You inhaled sharply, his hot breath tickling your neck as you tilted your head back. He licked his lips before sloppily latching onto your collarbone, sucking down to litter your skin with wet kisses as his fingers slid down your shorts, just barely so that he could roll his hips into you.

He pushed you back against the glass, fingers trailing across your bare thighs before sliding beneath your panties. Jungkook ran a finger over your clothed folds, making you clench down. 

“Y/n” His voice sounded equally as desperate as yours, barely audible over the sound of his heavy breathing. “Fuck I missed you” You gasped as his fingers slid under the fabric. He pushed a finger in, allowing your tight cunt to accustom to it before adding another finger not long after. 

His other hand slid beneath your shirt, pushing your bra up so he could run his thumb over your nipples, his touch featherlight, leaving you breathless. You rolled your eyes back in pleasure, bucking your hips up as he slowly pumped you with his fingers.

“That’s it baby, just like that” He whispered, lips pressing into your neck. You let out a shaky moan as his fingers quickened, pumping in and out of you as you latched onto his shoulders. “Look at me. Look right at me baby”

He brought his lips over yours, just brushing them across your skin so he could gaze deep into your eyes as you fucked yourself onto his fingers. You cried out his name as the friction began to overwhelm you. His fingers easing you right where you needed them, pleasure searing through you as he watched your every move.

"So good for me” He pulled his fingers out, doused in your sticky arousal before he placed them into his own mouth. Your eyes widen as he licked of every last bit of you and smiles. “You taste so fucking good baby”

He kisses you again, harsher this time as his hips roll against you. Your fingers grip his hair as he pulls down his sweats, allowing his cock to spring out. 

“You want my cock?” He ran his tongue over your lips, tugging at them slightly as he stroked his cock. You could feel his hand moving between your legs. “You want my big cock in your little pussy?”

You gulped, nodding as Jungkook looked down, lining his tip against your folds, pushing in only slightly before meeting your eyes again. “So warm and wet for me, fuck” He pushed in further, groaning as you spread your thighs wider, allowing him to thrust as deep as he could. He stilled briefly, kissing you again “You take me so well baby fuck. So fucking tight for me. My pretty baby” He stroked your face, thumb pushing into your mouth slightly.

“Does it feel good?” He mumbled, pulling out just slightly before rolling his hips back into you. He picked up a rhythm, fucking you deep and slow, hands clawing at your breasts.

“Yeah...feels really good” Your eyes fell shut, enjoying the fulfilling pleasure of his movements. He pulled your shirt up, burying his face between your breasts as he continued to fuck up into you. 

“Mmm yeah I bet” He pushed your bra up, allowing his fingers to pinch you nipples. He took one into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around the small bud as he began to suckle you, looking up to your face and enjoying your reactions. “You’re so fucking pretty you know that right?” He sucked on your breast harshly before leaving it with a soft kiss and moving onto the other. “So perfect for me”

His thrusts quickened, driving you up the wall as his hands fell to your hips. You burying your face in the crook of his neck as you felt your high approaching. “Jungkook...I’m...”

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s voice was raspy with lust, “You wanna cum baby? Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, wanna hear you make those pretty little moans when you cum”

You cried out with every thrust as he pushed you over the edge, and you felt your pussy burst with pleasure as you came, the sloppy sounds of your arousal echoing through the small space. Jungkook groaned as the hot liquid covered his cock, allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease. 

“There you go. Good girl. Good fucking girl, just like that” He gasped, feeling his cock twitch slightly, buried deep in your cunt, “Want me to cum inside you baby?” You nodded, whining slightly, “Yeah? You want it baby? Huh?” Jungkook’s hips thrust furiously at you, and he cupped your face, bringing his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes as he came. “Want my cum? Want me to fill you up baby?”

“Yeah. I want it. Jungkook please,” Your whiny voice was enough to have him spurting through you.

“Holy fuck” Jungkook buckled over, holding you tight as cum shot out of him, filling you up and leaking out onto the floor.

He pulled out of you quickly, pulling up his sweats while you fixed your own clothes. Sweat painted his forehead as he looked at you, panting with a big smile on his cute face.

“I missed that” He confessed, pulling you back into him by the waist. He knelt down and pressed his lips on yours, letting his hands slide to your ass and squeeze them softly. 

You heard a familiar ring as the elevator door reached it’s destination. You jumped away from Jungkook, unable to get far as the strong boy’s hold on you remained steady. 

"I see stabbing you once didn’t really drive home the message huh Mr. Jeon Jungkook” 

You felt goosebumps spread as you heard the sinister tone of Jin’s voice. He stood leaning against the elevator as if he had been waiting for you, twirling his knife around aimlessly between his fingers. “Too bad, I unfortunately can’t kill you yet” He turned to you and winked, “Both of you come with me”

-

Sweat trickled down from Namjoon’s neck, his eyes glued to the tattered punching bag in front of him. His muscles were still sore, bruises still spattered across his bare chest. He didn’t care. He was sick of feeling helpless. Under the dim lights of the boxing gym, he pushed himself, another hit, more force, ignoring the pain shooting through his limbs with every strike.

“Don’t overdo it” Namjoon rolled his eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. “Last thing you want is to get injured again” He turned to the sound of loafers echoing across the concrete floor.

“What do you want Yoongi?” Namjoon sneered. The producer smirked slightly, patting the punching bag playfully before pacing around Namjoon.

“I’m gonna kill Taehyung, and I know Jimin is gonna break hell. I need you to protect Y/n for me. Can I trust you, Namjoon?” His voice was stern.

“Man, fuck you Yoongi” Namjoon groaned, “I put my life on the line for you constantly and you still have to fucking ask? Promise me. I want out after this. Promise me a record deal”

Yoongi shrugged, “Okay fine. I’ll sign you. Don’t let her out of your sight.” Yoongi inhaled sharply, “And I swear to God Namjoon if you even think about touching her, you’re dead to me. And I will know if you do.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, lips parted, desperately trying to catch his breath. “Yeah okay. Just get me my fucking record deal”

Yoongi pursed his lips, pulling out his phone and handing it to Namjoon. “Paperwork is ready. You have one job. Don’t fuck up again” Namjoon clenched his fist as Yoongi chuckled in amusement. “I have some business I need to deal with personally. Keep her safe Namjoon, please”

-

You gagged, a puke-ish feeling clogging your throat as you coughed out. Your head was throbbing with pain as you squinted against the gleaming lights from the chandelier above your head. Glancing around, you realized you were back at Jungkook’s place, large dark wooden floors adding to the ambiance that just screamed rich in your face. The plushness of his large bed evident beneath you. 

You get up slightly, peering across the room where you see Jin handing a large duffel bag to Jungkook, whispering something into his ear. Jungkook nods eagerly, shaking Jin’s hand before exiting. He turns back to you, smiling as he realizes you are awake.

“Hey party girl. Recovered from our little day drinking session have we?” Jin chuckled. You scowl, searching around you as your throat desperately demanded water. Jin handed you a glass. “I just got Jungkook caught up, but you and I need to have a little talk” 

You exhaled before emptying the entire glass down your throat. “I know everything” You scoffed in spite, “I know everything you did, you fucking maniac”

Jin smiled wide at the term, “I know. Jungkook told me you think I was behind all of the stuff that’s been going on, stabbing him and kidnapping you. I mean,” Jin laughed, a tinge of condescendence in his voice, “You don’t actually believe that do you? Like, seriously how dumb are these guys. At least you’re smart”

You frowned at his tone, unsure of how to respond. Jin raised his eyebrows at your silence before continuing, “Oh come on Y/n. Use that little brain of yours hm? What the hell would I be gaining from all this? It was Taehyung.”

He extended you a hand, helping you out of the bed and pulling you up to stand before him, “What did he tell you huh? That he’s Yoongi’s friend or some shit? Taehyung doesn’t give a fuck about Yoongi. And I know you know about him screwing over Jimin. He’s trying to take over both gangs, not just Jimin’s, and he’s been lying to you this whole time.”

The bargaining chip. “What do you mean?” You followed the flat echoes of his footsteps down the hallway into the same office that you had Jimin tied up only a few days ago. You suppressed a smile as you noticed the curtains were still torn.

“He’s distracting Jimin and Yoongi with you. He wants them to get up against each other so that he can sway the gang loyalties towards him by showing that their leaders priorities are off. Look here” Jin motioned towards a laptop on the large desk, playing security footage of what appeared to be Death Valley’s parking lot, where people were loading bags of cash into what could have been Taehyung’s car. “He’s robbing them. And you know what else Y/n? When he’s done with all of this, he’s gonna kill them both.” 

No. No way. Betrayal stung you as you process Jin’s words, “You’re just a pawn in his game. You were bait. He just needed to you get Jimin and Yoongi to fight amongst each other. And you let him, didn’t you?” Jin chuckled, patting your cheek. “I know he kept telling you that you could trust him. That he wouldn’t hurt you. It was bullshit Y/n. This man only cares about one thing. Himself”

You thought back to the first night you laid your eyes on him, back when his hair was a faded green, his sweaty tan skin contrasting his dark leather jacket. The look of familiarity in his eyes and the gleam from his diamond studded watch. You were a fool. He strung you along.

“Where is he?” You growled, “I wanna hear it from him. I wanna ask him myself”

“Absolutely. In fact, if you’re up for it, I was wondering if you would be down to do another little mission for me” Jin winked at you. You scowled, folding your arms over your chest, “If we don’t kill him first, he’s planning on killing Yoongi tonight before the party. I know because I got him to let me in on his little coup” Your heart dropped, “You don’t want that do you?”

"No” You blurted. 

“So let’s kill him first. Come on, let’s go get you dolled up for this party”

As you left the office, you couldn’t help but notice a familiar figure standing at the other end of the hallway.

Namjoon? Your eyes locked with his. He pressed a finger to his lips before pointing at Jin and shaking his head. What is he trying to say. Namjoon seemed to have a warning look in his eyes. You simply shrugged at him, before running down the hall to catch up with Jin.

Namjoon exhaled, watching from a window as Jin and you drove off, likely heading to the hotel. Looking at his palm he saw the way his nails left imprints in his skin from how hard he was clenching his fists. Namjoon wasn’t necessarily a fan of Taehyung, but he knew a thing or two about him from Yoongi. Taehyung would never kill people. He was averse to it for some reason, Namjoon always thought it was ironic for him to be a gangster given that quality. Taehyung could torture anyone, threaten anyone, but he didn’t have it in him to take a life. 

Which meant that Jin was lying to you. Namjoon never liked Jin. Even aside from all the hits he had taken from the strong man, he always felt something was off about the guy. He feels uneasy about what he had just seen transpire, and decided to go find Yoongi. 

-

“Do you want some coke?” You were in the middle of washing your face when Jin walked in with a bag of powder. “I could use a hit, I don’t know about you”

“Oh hell yes. Thank you” He poured out a line on the bathroom counter using a quarter, watching with a small chuckle as you inhaled the drug, nose pressed against the cool marble. You sighed, wiping your nose and flashing a big grin in the mirror “Damn. I needed that. I didn’t know that you use”

Jin bit back a smirk, “I do.” He poured another line on the same place, this time taking a hit himself. “A lot”

“Oh. Officer Jin is a druggie like the rest of us huh” You teased. Jin poured himself a gin martini, taking a sip, eyes alight with amusement. “Does that turn you on ever? Do you ever have a hottie cuffed up and they’re like please Officer does that..you know..turn you on?”

Jin’s eyes widened at you “Not any hottie, no. Now if I had you cuffed up saying that” He chuckled, pulling you to him by the waist “That’s a whole other story” You pushed him away playfully.

“What?” Jin said mockingly, “Don’t remember that night where I gave you the best orgasm of your life?” His traced his lips up your jaw, and you could feel his smile against you.

“Wow. Cocky are we?” You raised your eyebrows. “I’ve had some pretty good sex in my life. Hard to say if that was the best”

Suddenly, Jin pulled his knife from his back pocket, glancing in the mirror as he traced the blade across your neck just enough for you to feel the sharp cold metal glide on your skin, pinching without actually making you bleed. “Don’t even lie. You loved fucking me. Don’t you remember? How fucking wet you were?” His breath was hot against your lips, but it was the look in his eyes that had you weak in the knees. 

Taking his knife, he slit clean down your shirt, tearing it off of you to reveal your bare chest. “On the floor slut” His whispered, flirty demeanor now shifted into something dark. Something feral.

You gulped, taking care to slide your bottoms off, not wanting him to slice them up before lowering yourself down onto the tiled bathroom floor. 

Jin set the knife aside, pulling out his lighter and setting in on the counter before shedding his own clothes, even he kicking off his shoes. He lifted his foot, and you watched with a curious gaze as he placed his foot on your chest. He kept the weight off of you, much to your relief, and you couldn’t help but feel absolutely filthy as he rolled your breasts under the sole of his foot. You had never done anything like this. It seemed so dirty, but felt so good. 

“Oh my god Jin” You gasped as he switched onto his other leg, taking his foot and shoving it into your mouth, watching in amusement as you gagged over his toes.

“Look at you. On the fucking floor. Naked little whore. Letting me do whatever I fucking want.” He removed his foot from your mouth, letting you catch your breath before you looked up at him with quivering eyes.

He felt blood rush to his cock at your expression. Licking his lips, knelt down, climbing over you to gently trail his fingers where his foot had been moments ago.

“And you love it” He sneered, letting his nails dig into your breast, “You love the pain don’t you you fucking slut?” When you didn’t answer he grabbed your jaw, pushing his fingers into the edge of your mouth. “I asked you a fucking question”

“Y...yes” You exhaled. You felt his fingers tease your clit, teeth tugging on your lobe as he laughed darkly.

Jin reached for the martini glass “Turn over” He growled. You found yourself with your breasts pressed flat against the floor, Jin’s cock pressing into your ass. You gasped as he poured the drink onto your back. “This is gonna burn. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl. I know you are, you let Yoongi do it so I can too”

“Wait what” Jin pressed your face down with one hand while the other grabbed his lighter, “Jin. Hold on.” Your voice rose in fear, which only turned Jin on more. He watched as you writhed under him, trying desperately to get away. “Jin seriously. That’s not funny”

“Shhh. You can take it” He cooed, flicking the flame on he slowly lowered it to your skin, bringing it nearer and nearer to the doused skin. You yelped as you began to feel the concentrated heat. Your entire body was petrified. “Enjoy it baby. You like it. You love it. You let Yoongi do it so why can’t I?”

“Jin. It’s not you, I'm just not ready for something like this please” Jin cocked his head aside in irritation, stopping the lighter before it actually touched you and tossing it aside. “I didn’t let Yoongi brand me he just did.”

Jin stilled momentarily. “And you still love him? Even though he did that?”

You didn’t answer. That alone was enough for Jin to rage. He slammed your face back down, the blow giving you a dizzying sensation that hat you getting wetter by the second. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled, “How can you love someone like that?” He pulled your face up, bending you back until you were flush against his chest. “I don’t want any of them touching you again. You understand me?” He let go, giving you whiplash as you fell back to the floor. “Ass up. Now” He spanked your ass hard, causing you to yelp. The stinging pain vibrated to your core. You couldn’t help but love every second of it. 

Jin knew that you were scared of him, he could feel it. He could also see the way your thighs would clench whenever he did anything to you. You were his favorite drug. He was going to ruin you.

He grabbed his belt from the pile of clothes on the side, “Hands under” He demanded, rolling his lip through his teeth as you obeyed him right away. He took the belt tying your wrists to your knees under you.

He took a moment to admire his work, your shivering body all his for the taking. You had no where to run. He had you now. “Who gives it to you the best him?” Pulling you towards him by your thighs, he didn’t care that your knees would burn against the smooth tile as he lined his cock up with your folds. He spat down, a glob of saliva landing on your ass before he used his cock head to rub it all over you. He could hear your shaky breath, your whiny moans that made him want to fuck you even more. 

He slapped his palm  onto the curve of your ass, bending over your to growl into your ear “Filthy whore. You disgust me. You let them all just do whatever they want to you, don’t you have any fucking self respect?” He could see his words were hitting close to home. You pursed your trembling lips as Jin smacked you again in the same place. 

“When will you fucking learn huh? This pussy” He reached his hand to harshly cup your cunt, shoving two fingers inside you without warning. “This pussy belongs to me. You’re mine. My cockslut whore” Taking his fingers out, he shoved them into your mouth “You taste that? That how desperate your needy little cunt is for me”

Your legs were strung together, making it all the more painful when he finally began to push his cock inside you, using his fingers to scissor you open so that he could get deep inside you. His length pushed against your tight walls, your cries and curses only motivating Jin to push further. 

“Who owns this cunt huh?” Jin pulled your hips back, burning your knees each time as he pulled you on and off his cock. Your ass slammed into him with each blow. 

“You do. Holy fuck, you do” You gasped, practically screaming as your whole body ached with pain and pleasure. 

“That’s right baby” He pinched your clit, making you yelp as he flicked at it, pounding into your relentlessly. 

“J..Jin” You mumbled, lips still half pressed on the floor, “Jin please. Feels good” Jin scoffed, “Gonna cum...gonna cum” You inhaled loudly as you felt your high approaching. Your eyes clenched shut as he edged you closer and closer, fingers furiously attacking your clit until he stopped.

You let out a loud sob as Jin yanked you up by your neck “You really thought I would let you cum whore?” His grip tightened, cock twitching at the way your voice sounded choking, the water streaming from your eyes and the drool at the edge of your lips. He kissed you, licking it all up in the process.  

“Look in the mirror. Look at how pathetic you are. I want you to remember the only person who’s ever gonna let you feel this good” You looked at your reflection, seeing only your faces and the way Jin’s nails dug into your neck. He pushed you forward so that your chin was on the countertop. You coughed out, watching as he resumed his thrusts, punishing your clit with the jarring movements of his fingers. 

You screamed, pleasure crashing over you in a wave of tantalizing heat. You gushed onto his cock, tears falling from your eyes due to how overwhelming the sensation was. Jin continued to whisper filth right into your ears but you could no longer hear anything. Your vision became hazy, not minding the blow when Jin shoved you back onto the floor and pounded you to his own release.

On the other side of the wall, Namjoon leaned his head back and sighed, glancing down to see his cock in his hands, now completely covered in cum.

-

Taehyung chewed on his gum nonchalantly as he paced around the luxurious hotel, checking out all the fun features. The pool deck was nice, the lobby exquisite, and his favorite part, the cafe, smelt delicious. 

Yoongi had asked to meet him in his suite. On his way there he ran into you, and you knocked his breath away. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight you looked elegant. It was such a surprising contrast to your usual getup, but you looked amazing. He was about to tell you just that when he finally registered the hurt look in your eyes.

“You liar” You slapped him with everything you had. Taehyung backed away in surprise. “How could you use me like that? Over and over again. I trusted you. You were really the only one I thought had my back. Without a fucking doubt” You lunged towards him for another hit but Taehyung held your wrist firmly.

“What are you talking about? When did I use you?” Taehyung looked around frantically, “Calm down okay, let’s go somewhere and talk this through.” Your eyes flared in anger. 

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You’re gonna kill them!” You screamed. Taehyung squinted, noticing the slight redness in your eyes. He sighed in understanding, pulling you by the wrist into a corridor. 

“Y/n. Breathe. Tell me what’s going on” Taehyung attempted to calm you down but you were enraged. “And what the fuck are you on?”

Admittedly, you and Jin had ended up doing many more lines of coke, perhaps even molly, you were no longer sure, but you washed it down with the bottle of gin, finding it unprecedentedly hilarious that Jin liked to drink gin martinis. 

“You used me! To fuck with Jimin! And Yoongi! You lied to me! Everything you said was a fucking lie, everything you did, every stupid word that came out of your stupid mouth was a lie! You just want power. You’re selfish, and...and...you’re gonna KILL them” A dramatic gasp left your lips, Taehyung almost laughed, “You’re gonna kill Yoongi. I...I can’t let you do that”

You pulled out your gun, cocking it and pressing it against Taehyung’s chest. He instantly put his hands up. “Y/n. Y/n stop. That’s not true okay you’re not thinking straight. Don’t do something you’ll regret”

Your hands trembled around the gun “You’ll kill them. You’ll kill them both...I can’t let you do that”

“Hold on!”

Too late. You pulled the trigger.

-

Hobi wandered through the parking lot looking for his car. His eyes narrowed on a familiar vehicle, thinking back to when he had loaded the drug money from the last fight. 

So. Is that guy Yoongi then? The one I kept seeing? Hobi wandered over to the car. Peering inside the passenger window, his eyes locked on a small item on the floor of the car. He squinted to read it, it appeared to be some sort of credit card.

He stepped back, realizing what the name on the card was. He glanced around before taking the end of his gun and ramming it into the door handle. The door creaked open, allowing Hobi to swipe the card up. He slid it into his pocket, before hurriedly returning to the hotel. 

-

Namjoon’s eyes widened as he watched you pull a gun out on Taehyung. He had been thoroughly entertained as you yelled and slapped him, knowing full well that you were high out of your mind. 

Namjoon couldn’t understand Jin’s plan at all. He had eavesdropped on everything so far, as per Yoongi’s orders. Why would Jin ask you to kill Taehyung, why wouldn’t he just do it himself? He knew you would hate yourself if you actually killed him. 

He had also been thoroughly disappointed at how easily Jungkook had bought into Jin’s agenda as well. The things people do for money. Namjoon sighed, realizing that he was pretty much acting on similar motivations. 

You were ready to pull the trigger, and Namjoon was almost certain you wouldn’t do it, until he saw your finger begin to curl. He ran towards the corridor as fast as he could.

“Hold on!” He yelled, but it was too late. Taehyung’s eyes flew shut.

Namjoon blinked, not hearing the familiar gunshot sound. You looked equally confused, glancing down the barrel of your gun. Taehyung let out a shaky sigh of relief, sliding down the wall.

“It...was a blank” You mumbled. Namjoon rushed to your side, pulling you away from Taehyung. “What the...what was I just about to do?” His heart clenched as your lips parted in shock.

“Taehyung are you okay?” Namjoon asked. Taehyung nodded, clearly shaken up but managing to get a hold of himself. 

“What the fuck is going on?” He growled, “Who gave her a gun? And who gave her drugs while she had a gun? Fucking hell”

Namjoon stroked your back as you let the gun drop to the floor, the weight of your actions finally hitting you. 

“I’m so sorry. Taehyung I...” You looked into his eyes. Those eyes that always left you questioning what was really going on in that pretty head of his. 

“Yeah. Jin fucking fed her some interesting stories about how you’re using her. At least I hope they’re just stories” Namjoon peered at him. “I’m Namjoon by the way, we haven’t officially met”

Taehyung shook his hand “Hi Namjoon. I heard you make pretty decent music” He chuckled ironically, “Y/n, I need you to tell me everything Jin said. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding, I promise you I wasn’t taking advantage of you.”

Namjoon made a face, exchanging a glance with you as you nodded slowly. Namjoon was not entirely sure he should believe Taehyung. He supposed it wouldn’t matter, when he knew that Yoongi was planning to kill Taehyung anyways. The more information he had, the better he could at least keep you out of trouble. 

P R E S E N T  D A Y--

Security escorted you and Jimin out immediately as the media broke into a frenzy trying to figure out what had happened. You had hoped your acting skills had convinced him. 

After Taehyung sobered you up slightly, the three of you had sat and schemed. Using everything the three of you knew, you were able to figure out that it really was Jin behind Jimin’s accident, your and Namjoon’s kidnapping, as well as Jungkook’s attempted murder. He was able to do all of this using Hobi’s help, but Hobi seemed not to know that he was receiving orders from Jin.

The question remained how and why. 

“I know you’re not going to believe me. So I have proof” Taehyung pulled his phone out, pulling up a recording of Jin tied up somewhere.

All I ask, is that when the dust settles, Y/n is mine. And I get to kill them. My way

You felt queasy seeing his earnest expression through the film. Namjoon’s jaw clenched, recognizing crazy when he saw it, wishing he could have knocked the guy’s brains out beforehand.

“Listen to me. This guy is dangerous. I don’t really understand why he’s doing all of this. He said he wanted to help me, but clearly there’s some other motive here. Otherwise he wouldn’t go behind my back.” Taehyung muttered.

“The only way to know what he wants is to see what he does next” Namjoon pitched in. 

You glanced between the two men, feeling weirdly relieved that you finally had some solid answers. Having Namjoon by your side after so long was the best thing you could ask for at the moment, and you clung to him, hands wrapped around his arm tightly. He thought it was cute.

“Let me fake my death. Let’s see what he does.”

The drivers took you and Jimin to the precinct. You looked around for Namjoon but he was nowhere to be seen. Your eyes met Jin’s briefly as he signed some paperwork. He winked at you.

“Can I have the body taken to get an autopsy report please?” You weren’t phased by this. Taehyung had said he had enough contacts to make it truly believable that he had died. Jimin’s face was void of emotion as he watched the stretcher go past with the body on it.

You left the hold on his hand, your blood running cold as the body nears you. It was loosely covered with a white sheet, but the arm hung out limply from the sight.

That watch. That’s his watch.

Jimin pressed his lips to the top of your head, sliding his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him “You okay babe?” 

“I...no yeah, I’m just shocked” You stammered. You looked up at him, allowing him to place a loving kiss on your lips.

Jimin felt for you, he really did. He himself was generally an emotional person, it was not something he ever tried to hide. But he always felt like his emotional energy was valuable. He didn’t feel the need to cry. Not for Taehyung.

Jimin stroked your back softly, “It’s scary, I know. I know baby, but don’t worry” He licked his lips, eyes briefly meeting Hobi’s from across the room. Hobi gave him a knowing look.

“Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon”

ᐊ——[ previous ] series navi | masterlist | [ next ]——ᐅ

a/n: WOOHOOO. the fun is really gonna start now. did you miss yoongi? don’t worry, he’ll be back. drop your theories in my asks! who killed taehyung? what’s jin’s deal? 

smut pairs are up for next week! poor oc, she really needs to eat some food. yikes.

see you then & thanks for reading <3 happy juneteenth! 

taglist: @imluckybitches @gee-nee @missseoulite @hcneybees @kooookie​ @queenmasterxx @crustycaitlin @virgo-and-libra @un2-verse @winter-melontea @equivocacies​ @infernal-alpaca @shrimpmsg @meowmeowyoongles @rjsmochii @liltangerined @littlrmills14-blog @issysor @arandomblackgirl @adoringinsanity @giadalin @jeontier @kaithezaftig @jinssexytoe @nonnis97@minyoongiboongi @happygirl62304 @just-me-and-myselfs @purplepebbles @channiespup @lilacdreams-00 @kianam @thmrdrs @kpoppin-mel @namjooningelsewhere @lolzerss @planetsope @ohmykim @xyahrinx @bangtan-army @you-are-my-wind

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Panther Princess; T’Challa x child reader

*Author’s note*

Well this was a LONG time in the making, not only cause of motivation and time schedule wise but I wanted to make sure I GOT THIS FIC RIGHT since this is my first time writing for T'Challa since Chadwick's death last year (MAY HE RIP OUR KING!!!). Hope you guys enjoy this, and I’ve decided that after a few Wattpad requests I’ll open requests up here on Tumblr but there will be some MAJOR adjustments to what fandoms I’ll do. For now just be patient with me and eventually I will open requests here on Tumblr, I just don’t want to be overwhelmed.

Warnings: Malnourishment. abuse, terrorists involved (no action but just the word), some fluff.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@soy-guey

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

______________________________________________________________

It was in the dead of night when T’Challa received word about some smugglers were traveling with some stolen Vibranium, and word has it that they were working for Klaue.  Even though he had been dead, Klaue’s business was still running and forging deals with terrorists groups and anti-government parties.

Him and Okoye were flying over towards the drop-off point where the dealers were gonna be exchanging their latest steal of Vibranium.

“The dealers that Klaus’ second Lt. Rosko Lannister is selling the Vibranium to come from an Iranian terrorist group.”

“As usual we will let them make their business transaction before taking any further action. After dealing with the terrorist group and Lannister is ours, he will be put under the same crimes as we would’ve given Klaue.” T’Challa told Okoye.  She nodded as the jet continued to fly towards their destination.

It was just before sunset when at an old, abandoned warehouse Rosko Lannister and some of Klaue’s old men waited for their clients to arrive.  Soon enough driving in the black SUV’s and Honda trucks, the Iranian terrorist group came out of their cars.  Most of them were soldiers holding their AK-47’s close to their chest while out of the head van, 3 men dressed in full 3 piece suits exited the car.

They looked exactly alike for these three men were actually brothers.  Two of them were twins and the other was a year younger than his older twin brothers. Hasim, Sami, and Achmed Israeli were the three leaders of the biggest terrorist group in the world.  There was even record shown that they made deals with HYDRA back in the day.  Mostly smuggled weapons and potential serums for super soldiers.

After the fall back in 2014 when both SHIELD and HYDRA were exposed, the brothers decided to go underground and disappear under the radar.  The US and European governments have been trying to find them ever since but they are too clever and can easily cover their tracks both physically and wirelessly.

“The Israeli brothers. I can’t tell you how honored I am to be doing business with you.” Rosko praised.

“We didn’t come for praises. We came for the Vibranium. Do you have it?” the oldest twin brother Sami demanded.

“Getting down to business. That was one thing my former associate Klaue always appreciated. God rest his soul.” Rosko kissed his finger before raising them upward. “Nah I’m just kidding he was an arsehole, I’m actually glad he’s dead.” He changed his tune.

“The Vibranium. Do you have it or not!?” demanded the younger twin Hasim.

“Patience Hasim. Let the white man talk.” Sami eased his brother.  Rosko turned to one of his guys and nodded.  His left hand man let out a whistle and soon two men come carrying in a large box that was filled with the stolen Vibranium that Klaue had stowed away for himself.

The men set it down before the brothers and Achmed opened the case up to reveal the Vibranium they were looking for.  A small smirk came across Sami’s face and he said.

“Excellent. The most powerful material in the universe.”

“It did come at personal cost from Klaue, better him than me. It’s worth billions. Hope you also kept your end of the deal. This transaction is only fair if both parties agree.” Hasim smirked cunningly and turned to his general.

He nodded and exclaimed in Muslim and before Rosko even knew it. Every single one of his men was shot dead by the Israeli brother’s soldiers, leaving only him alive.

Every gun was now turned on him and Rosko had no choice but to raise his hands slowly.

“True. But when dealing with terrorists you should’ve also realized that there is a price to pay. Especially if you’ve been followed.” Sami said. At this point Rosko was confused.

“What-what-what are you talking about?”

“I’ve been in this game for a long time Mr. Lannister, I’ve seen everything and heard it all. Superheroes, aliens, psychotic androids, even real life wizards. So don’t think for a second that your actions hasn’t risen suspicion to the one who rules the very place where you got this Vibranium from.” Sami closed the case and patted it before his brother Achmed took it and had it put in the truck.

“King T’Challa has no idea of this Vibranium that was stashed away. He’s recovered the traces of Vibranium that Klaue kept public. There’s no way he could know about this.”

“Clearly Klaue had a better game face than you Mr. Lannister. For he wouldn’t have revealed such an important fact to me.” At that moment Rosko knew he had been played by the brothers.  Before he knew it, a bullet went straight into his head and he died right there.

“Surround the area. We don’t leave till the King is dead.” Ordered Achmed to his security team.  The soldiers exclaimed Arabic commands as they surrounded the warehouse with their guns outward and ready to fire.

One guard in particular heard something move behind him and he quickly turned and fired three shots but didn’t hit anything but some old crates.  His paranoia was getting the best of him and that’s what gave him away.  He was suddenly grabbed by the back of his robes and lifted up and beaten till he collapsed to the floor unconscious.

2 more guards heard what was going on and went to check on their fallen soldier when a flash of a figure ran behind them. They quickly turned and fired their guns when suddenly T’Challa came down behind them, quickly disarmed them and knocked them unconscious.

As more of the brother’s security came in and they open fired on T’Challa, he merely walked towards the security before sprinting forward and disarming the rest of them.  His claws tearing their guns apart, and using his quick ‘cat-like’ agility, he managed to take down the entire fleet.

“Israeli brothers!” he cried out.  It was then Sami came out and T’Challa revealed his face to the eldest brother.

“King T’Challa. I must say it is an honor to be in your presence.” Sami mocked.

“Did you really believe we would be unaware of this trade?”

“On the contrary, I expected this all along. It was that witless white monkey Rosko who didn’t expect to see you. But never fear, he’s out of both of our hands.” Sami said nonchalantly as he looked down at his nails.  

“If you surrender the stolen Vibranium to me, we can resolve this peacefully. But refuse, and you’ll face justice of Wakanda in Rosko Lannister’s stand. You and your brothers.”

“See my brothers and I made a pact. If we can’t escape the system, we’d be—how you say, judge jury and executioner to ourselves. And rather than rot in a cell separated, we shall join together in a blaze of glory. And we’re not afraid to take you with us, suffering the same fate as your own father did.” Sami raised his arms out like he was flying and waiting for a fiery explosion to happen.

But nothing came.

He opened his eyes to reveal that nothing had happened.  It was then coming into the open space were Ayo and Okoye who had Sami’s younger brothers. Both men were bruised and battered up pretty badly.  The two Dora Milaje members dropped his brothers down at his feet like trash and T’Challa said.

“I told you. This could’ve been resolved peacefully. But you forced our hand, especially when you had planned to blow up the place with all of us inside.” Sami growled but nonetheless raised his hands in surrender.

As the Dora Milaje were detaining the three brothers, T’Challa retrieved the stolen Vibranium when he heard something nearby.  It sounded like chains, they had defeated all of the security, Rosko and his men were all shot by the Israeli brother’s defense, and the brothers were all detained so who else was here?

“My King?” Okoye asked.

“Stay here Okoye, I want to check something out.” He told his general of the Dora Milaje.

“My king, it could be another threat we do not yet know about. Let me come with you.”

“I’m not defenseless Okoye. Now you and Ayo just put the men on the ship and let me handle this. It could be some animal or the chains fell down off of something.” Okoye nodded to her king and soon T’Challa headed deeper into the warehouse.

As he explored every bit of it, he soon noticed that there appeared to be a hidden door within the walls that was very faintly cracked open.  He opened the door and could hear the sound of the chains getting louder and louder.

It was almost like they were—pacing? They kept a constant rhythm as they would move about, in a circle pattern or something close to it.  T’Challa slowly walked towards the direction of the chains and soon found what appeared to be a cage.  A glass cage but it was inside that surprised the Wakandan King.

Inside the glass was a child.  She appeared to be around the ages of 8-11 years old. Her hair was extremely long and madded like a lion’s mane.  She looked malnourished so much so that you could almost see her bones.  But for being malnourished, how could she have the energy to pace so frantically like she was now?  He also noticed that there around her neck, wrists and ankles were chains keeping her inside.

T’Challa slowly walked out of the shadows and into the light where the child would be able to see him.  She stopped her pacing and just stared at him curiously. T’Challa disengaged his full Black Panther suit so that he was in his normal clothes.

“I am not here to hurt you.” He gently told the child.  The child slightly tilted their head like a lost puppy.  “My name is T’Challa, what’s yours?” T’Challa slowly and slowly got closer and closer to her cage as he spoke in that soft voice of his.  When she didn’t answer him he assured you, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I just want to be sure you’re okay.”

Suddenly in the blink of an eye, her (e/c) soon turned to a deep cat eye yellow.  Her body shifted into a fairly young but still decent size panther and she lashed out at the cage, knocking T’Challa off his feet in slight fear.  The child now standing before him as a full panther clawed and roared at the cage furiously.

“My King!” Ayo’s voice spoke in Xhosa and soon her and Okoye came in and when they saw the panther, they lifted up their spears in defense.

“Stand down!” T’Challa commanded them.

“But my king—this animal is feral. It was going to kill you.” Okoye reasoned with him but T’Challa told her.

“She is a human child. She shifted into this panther before my eyes. Look.” Soon enough the panther shrunk down and soon turned back into the young girl who was still pacing back and forth in her cage.

“What sorcery is this?” asked Ayo.

“Not magic. Science. Look closer at her arms.” T’Challa said.  At the section of the arm on the other side of the elbow, they noticed dozens of needle injection scars.

“This child was experimented on.” Okoye said grimly with a horrified expression.

“What do we do my King?” asked Ayo.  T’Challa looked at the child who was growling and trying to act scary even though she was no longer a panther anymore.

“We take her to Shuri. Maybe she can shed more light on the matter. Get her to the ship. But approach her cautiously. Don’t make any sudden movements.” Ayo and Okoye bowed their heads to their king and walked towards the cage.

The girl would hit her skeletal body up against the cage trying to rattle it and actually roared out a panther’s real roar, her teeth slowly growing into the large infamous canines of a real big cat. Okoye and Ayo then placed a hover bead on each end of the cage and soon the cage levitated just a few feet off the ground.

The little girl roared and began clawing at the glass but it hardly did anything as she was now being guided towards the ship.

When they reached Wakanda after dealing with the brothers, Shuri in her lab was going over the girl’s intel scan that she made of the girl from her cage with her kimoyo beads.

“So what is it you can find Shuri?” T’Challa said as he entered his sister’s lab.

“This may come as a surprise to you brother. But—she has no birth record at all. I’ve contacted some of my people in various places around the world to see if there has been any missing child and all of them have said no. My theory is that she may have been created from a test tube to look like this.”

“Any idea who could’ve made her?”

“The same organization that made the White Wolf into the Winter Soldier.”

“Hydra.” T’Challa said gravely.  Shuri nodded.

“I hacked into their old files and it only confirms my theory. Seems like they wanted to create their own Cat-god or something.”

“Any records on what her powers are? She can shift into a panther but can she also shift into anything else?”

“I’m still digging through the files, there’s a lot of files that came to creating her. It’ll take time brother.” T’Challa nodded in understandment.

“Keep me updated.”

“Yes brother.” T’Challa walked away but he turned back towards the young girl and saw that she had briefly stopped her pacing to look at him once again.

A week later after finding the child, Shuri managed to dig up that HYDRA’s plan for the Child was for her to become their Agent Battle Cat.  The ability to shift into a panther.  She also has enhanced agility, speed, and strength.

However when HYDRA fell back in 2014, they were forced to abandon the project and she had been left alone in that warehouse ever since.  Thinking about the enhancing experiments she must’ve been forced to endure or whatever genes they gave her, it allowed her to survive even being chained up in a cage for years on end until she felt like she needed to give up.

While being kept under his sister’s supervision, T’Challa also made it apparent to try and communicate with the Child, just to see if she could either understand or (in a rare case) speak in any language.  The first time he had tried to talk to her well—let’s just say she ended up with broken nails and chipped teeth after trying to take a bite of T’Challa’s forearm when he activated his suit to protect his arm from her attack.

He had finally finished his royal civic duties for the day when he decided to try and talk to the Child again.

“You sure it’s a good idea brother? You did cause her to lose her nails and chipped some of her teeth.”

“I learned my lesson last time. But you weren’t there before that happened. She had actually dropped her guard and almost looked like she wanted to communicate with me. I think I’m getting through to her.”

“Okay brother. But if she attacks you again, I doubt that’ll sit well with Mother as well as Okoye and Ayo.”

“I will handle mama and the Dora Milaje. For now see to it that no one disturbs us.” Shuri nodded and told her workers to go home for now, leaving T’Challa and the Child alone.

T’Challa slowly approached her cage to see her lying down on her side licking her broken nails.  Some of them had broken off by the top, while the rest had the entire nail broken leaving a bloody mess in it’s wake.  She was currently licking her blood stained fingertips when she caught T’Challa’s scent.

She growled and hissed angrily at him, her canine fangs extended out and her eyes shifted into the cold, yellow panther eyes.

“Steady, steady. I’m not here to hurt you.” T’Challa sat down a few feet away from the cage and continued, “I am sorry for what happened to you. I was only protecting myself from getting hurt. It was my fault for overstepping my boundaries.” Her hissing ceased and she closed her mouth hiding her fangs but she would occasionally growl lowly, her tail coming out and twitching anxiously.

They sat there in silence for a couple of minutes when T’Challa said to her.

“You know, I’ve been thinking of a name for you. You know something to call you. I’m betting the men who created you never really gave you a real human name. What do you think about—Ariana?” the Child hissed. T’Challa chuckled, “Didn’t think so. Shuri said you might like it but now I can prove to her that I was right. Now for the real options, what about…….Nala?” the child tilted her head confused.  “No? What about…..Diana?” she looked down and went back to licking her fingertips. “That won’t really help them heal. Sure it’ll clot the blood but it’s not that good for saliva to heal a wound like that.”

She looked up at T’Challa and growled lowly.

“I’m just trying to help. We have the medicine that’ll help you. I won’t lie it might sting for a brief second but it’ll help. Will you trust me with healing you, please?” the child looked between him and her fingers before slowly extending her arms out and she briefly nodded.

T’Challa then got some antiseptic and band-aids. He opened up a small section of the cage, just enough for her arms to come out.

“Thank you for your trust.” He then began to doctor her fingertips.  She let out some painful roars on the stubbed fingertips that no longer had a nail anymore but at least this time she didn’t try to attack him like last time.  He soothed her with calming phrases like ‘it’s okay. It’s won’t last long.’ And ‘Just relax, it’s almost over.’ After bandaging up her left pinkie finger he told her, “There, I’m done (Y/n).”

At hearing that name, she looked up at T’Challa curiously.  Her tail perked up and the tip curled inward.  T’Challa looked at her to see her tail fall limp to the cage floor. “(Y/n)?” her tail lifted up again and her head tilted curiously.  “So you like that name eh?” She looked at T’Challa and her nose twitched as she was trying to sniff him through the glass.

Taking a risk, he slowly reached his hand into the cage once more like before.  However this time he kept his hand in a downward position, so that his hand formed the shape of another cat’s nose.  The Child slowly crept towards his hand and gave it a sniff, when she saw that he wasn’t moving his hand, she rubbed her head against his hand for a brief second before nuzzling underneath his palm so that it sat on top of her head.

He gently began scratching her scalp which caused her to let out soft comforting purrs.  T’Challa smiled warmly and continued to gently give the child—well (Y/n) some more scritches and pets.

“Don’t you worry (Y/n). I promise I won’t allow anyone else to harm you in any shape or form.”

The next couple of months after getting her body weight back to normal and healing any other wounds she had maintained, T’Challa allowed (Y/n) to venture outside the palace with him.  Thinking the city itself was too much for her right now, he decided to take her out to the Border tribe so that she could see the outside world for the first time in her life.

Needless to say she was overwhelmed but she was happy to feel the grass beneath her feet, see the beautiful landscape, and hear all the sounds of the outside world from the animal calls to some of the Border tribe members talking with each other.

“Seems she’s getting along well.” Okoye observed (Y/n) who was cautiously watching the rhinos from their pins.

“Slowly but surely she is. Walking on two feet is still a bit of a challenge but she’ll get there eventually.” T’Challa told her.

“At least she’s learned to not attack you.”

“It was one time Okoye, be nice.”

“As your General it is my duty—”

“I understand your duty General. But you must also know that there will be times you can’t protect me. And this attack was very minor compared to the fights I’ve been in before.” It was then T’Challa saw (Y/n) now focusing her attention on some birds that had just landed a few feet away from the rhino pins.  Her panther instincts kicked in as she got into pouncing position, her pupils were fully blown and her shoulder blades flexed over one another as her butt raised higher and higher in the air.

Finally she raced forward and the birds immediately took off flying.  She leaped well over 7ft in the air and managed to capture a bird in her claws and delivered a fatal bite.  She then raced over to T’Challa and presented him the dead bird.

She placed it on the ground before his feet and backed away before tilting her head with a happy smile on her face.

“Seems she has a gift for you my King.” Okoye said. T’Challa grimaced at the gift but he quickly smiled down at her and knelt down in front of her.

“I appreciate the gift (Y/n). But—we cannot keep this bird kept within a cage. Like how I freed you, we must also allow this bird to move onto the next life.” He dug into the earth for a small shallow grave, just big enough for the bird and he placed the bird into the makeshift grave.  He buried it under the earth and he sent a brief prayer to Bast in Wakandan. “Right, now let’s head back to the palace. I have a meeting with M’Baku about reforging our alliance and allowing the Jabari tribe into the council.”

Okoye and T’Challa walked ahead when they heard something behind them.  At first they thought it was one of the goats but it sounded to hoarse to be one of them. They slowly turned around and saw (Y/n) with a hand over the grave of the bird and she was saying.

“Ba……Ba.”

“Is she……?” Okoye started.

“Ba.” (Y/n) was trying to talk!  She was trying to say the Cat goddess Bast’s name.  She managed to get out the first constant and vowel but she couldn’t figure out how to do her S and T.

“Her first time talking. She’s trying to say Bast’s name.” T’Challa knelt down and he asked her, “(Y/n), are you trying to give a prayer to Bast?”

“Ba!” she exclaimed again.  T’Challa was overjoyed on the inside that the girl he had decided to take under his wing and raise was finally trying to talk.  Many of the tutors he and Shuri had growing up had given up saying that she was incapable of speaking because all she did was just hiss and growl as well as throw things at them before laughing like a deranged hyena.

“Here I’ll help you say her name.” he adjusted himself so that he sat down and he placed his hand right next to hers and he said slowly so that she could see how his lips did it. “Say Bast.”

“Ba.”

“Bast.”

“Ba.” T’Challa shook his head.

“Watch me carefully. Bast.” He enunciated the t at the end.  (Y/n) growled lowly before taking a deep inhale and finally exclaiming.

“BAST!”

“Yes. Yes that’s it! You did it (Y/n) great job!” at seeing T’Challa’s excitement, (Y/n) began to repeat Bast’s name gleefully as she pranced around.

“A little cocky there isn’t she?” Okoye muttered.

“Let her have this moment Okoye. Besides probably hunting and killing, this is her first real big achievement. A normal milestone.”

“I suppose so.” She agreed.  Even though she might not have wanted to admit it, she thought it was adorable how little (Y/n) was finally able to speak a human language and become so happy with herself that she would prance around like a yearling antelope.

Over the next couple of years, (Y/n) continued to not only advance in her human speaking skills, but she now began to show signs of aging.  She went from that small child to now almost a young adult woman in just 2 years since finding her.  Seemed with the animal enhancement, it also increased her human aging with each time she grew stronger and tougher.

T’Challa continued to raise her as his own and pretty soon all of Wakanda looked at her as their young Princess.  Shuri loved hanging out with (Y/n) and teaching her everything there was to know about science and technology.  She even took her as an apprentice in her lab.  Okoye eventually came around and soon saw (Y/n) as a member of the royal family and took it upon herself to train her like a Dora Milaje so that she could defend herself without the need of her animal powers.

For she was the Panther Princess.

[thetargaryenbride]

A break [Levi x Fem!Reader]

Requested by: @emmaandemmal  Hi, I love your works! Can I request one where Levi and his fem s/o have been a couple since before they were captured by the scouts in the underground? After the deaths of Isabel and Farlan, the reader tries to convince Levi to leave the scouts with her to go and live together in a safer place, but he refuses saying that he believes in Erwin's vision of the scouts and the two begin to fight badly. The reader eventually stays in the scouts because she doesn't want to leave without him, but the relationship between Levi and the reader is getting colder and more detached. The reader begins to think that Levi is no longer interested in her after noticing his growing friendship with Petra and she decides to leave the scouts thinking it's the best decision for her and for Levi. When Levi finds out, he tries to find her, but without success. Only a few years later, he catches a glimpse of her in the crowd after the scouts have returned from an expedition and he follows her. Once they arrive at the reader's house, she and Levi make up and the reader claims that she has been selfish in the past and that she would like to return to the scouts to fight against the titans and to claim the deaths of Isabel and Farlan. Eventually the reader and Levi resume their relationship and Levi promises her that nothing would separate them again. I'm really sorry that it's so long, if you consider this idea feel free to modify it as you wish. Sorry for my English too... it’s not very good. Thank you so much, you're one of the best Levi writers I know! ❤️

I’m sorry for the delay, dear. I was struggling with a mini writer’s block and was focusing more on art but I’m slowly getting back on track! Thank you so much for the request and thank you for your kind words. This really means a lot to me! As far as modifying goes, the only thing I modified is the timeskip. Instead of a few years, I made it one year. I hope you don’t mind ^^

Words: 4.5K

Warnings: Very Brief mention of suicide, prostitution and self-harm

Hope you like it  ❤️ Feedback is deeply appreciated! ^^

Also, if Levi seems OOC, please feel free to correct me~ I accept constructive criticism ^^  

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

You were arguing.

You never argued.

But the situation that had befallen you made you feel all sort of ways and neither of you knew how to express those emotions, that stress, which is why it had slowly turned into a fight.

“You shouldn’t have agreed! We have no idea how the world above works! We’re going to fuck up, Levi,” you raised your voice, hands clenching into fists by your sides, levels of anger rising at Levi’s indifference at the situation. You knew that it was only a façade and that deep down Levi wasn’t indifferent. You knew he was probably worried just as much as you were. But right now you were so scared and you wanted him to just show some more emotion, fight back, shower you with words of reassurance, hug you…anything…not just stand with crossed arms, staring at you.

“So what, I should’ve let the bushy eyebrowed bastard send us in prison?” he raised an eyebrow as if challenging you to give him a good reason for your big distaste of joining the Survey Corpse. He couldn’t understand why you had exploded like that when he had agreed. It was the perfect opportunity for the fulfillment of your mission…Not that you had been very accepting of the mission either. Your paranoia and distrust always clawed at you, many a time ripping any semblance of reason and logic. But he couldn’t’ exactly blame you. He was similar in a way. He supposed that this is what living in the Underground did to you.

Living?

No. More like struggling, digging in the mud, to survive.

And the two of you had been doing this since you were kids.  

“I’d rather rot in a prison cell than a titan’s stomach. And since when do you trust nobles anyways? It’s mostly because of them that we all fester here in this dump,” you spat out and he pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh.

“If you are so against this mission, why are you even joining?” he shot back and you choked on whatever words you had the intention of spilling.

You took a deep breath as you slumped next to him on the couch, body completely slacking in defeat as your anger simmered down a bit.

“Do you even have to ask me that?” you muttered as you stared at the ceiling, the hands in your lap fiddling with your fingers. “It’s because I would never turn my back on my family…on you,” you murmured as you straightened up and turned to face him. “Even if it’s the stupidest decision which would probably result in something shitty, I’ll still stick with you. You are all I have…I love you,” you timidly uttered the last words, casting your eyes downwards as a slight blush spread over your cheeks. The man sighed before his hands went to grab yours, successfully stopping your fiddling and wringing, squeezing them reassuringly.

“Look at me,” he ushered you gently yet firmly and you lifted your head, locking eyes with his. “We’ll be fine.”

You let out another sigh before you leaned, letting his arms encircle your form as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

“I pray that you’re right,” you whispered and just when you thought you could have a moment of peace, Farlan entered the room with a constipated expression. You couldn’t blame him. You were all beaten and battered by the soldiers and your ego was bruised, even though you let them capture you. And now they were all standing in your home or surrounding it while you packed the little of your belongings, breathing down your neck.

It was suffocating.  

“We’ve packed everything. It’s time to go.”

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

You wanted to blame him.

You wanted to tell him – “I told you so.”

But that wouldn’t bring back Farlan and Isabel.

It wouldn’t stitch back their ripped bodies.

They were gone and the only thing you could blame was this world.

Because it was so cruel.

And the only beauty you found in it was your love for Levi and his love for you.

He had no fault. Nobody knew that things would turn out like this. That fate would decide to cackle in your faces.

The two of you stuck together like glue more than ever after that day. You even went as far as to disregard rules as you would sneak into the men’s barracks just to sleep with him because he was the only one who managed to chase away the nightmares and wipe your tears. And you knew, even without him saying it directly, that you were the only one who could comfort him when he was feeling the burden of the world crushing his shoulders. And Farlan and Isabel’s deaths really did feel like the whole world just crumbled on top of you two. The only difference was that you were more prone to emotions and didn’t find such a difficulty at expressing them unlike Levi who preferred to bottle everything inside, feign indifference and coldness and find toxic coping mechanisms like not sleeping which as time passed shaped into the ugly form of his insomnia, despite all the scolding you’ve done.

Time passed. The first weeks after Isabel and Farlan’s deaths, you had been inseparable. But that slowly began to change after the date of the next expedition was announced. Your paranoia spiked up one night after you had tried suppressing it for days and that resulted in a breakdown.

You wanted out.

You wanted to leave the Scouts.

You had even gone as far as to talk to Erwin and the Commander, literally begging them to help you with the citizenship matters and let you and Levi leave. But of course, they refused and Erwin even went to speak to Levi about this, not knowing that the man had no idea about your plans and wishes.

Levi was angry that you did something like that behind his back. He understood your fear. He understood very well because he was afraid too. He was afraid that he was going to lose you too – the only person he had left. But he didn’t appreciate that you hadn’t been straightforward with him regarding such a serious matter, only revealing everything you have done and felt at the heat of the moment.

“I’ve been dreaming about this since I was a little girl, hiding in the wardrobe, listening how man after man would use my mother every night. Dreaming about a life, safely tucked in the corner of the world, surrounded by beautiful nature, peace and quiet, alongside my beloved person... Is it so bad that I want this for us?” you had asked with trembling voice and Levi’s expression had softened, a sign that he had forgiven you for everything and that he didn’t want to argue anymore.

“As much as I want that too, we can’t have it when the titans are roaming everywhere, threatening to wipe out Humanity. If we don’t destroy them now, we are only delaying our doom,” he muttered as his hand went to softly caress your cheek, making you sigh as you leaned into his touch. “But that man, Erwin Smith, sees something that I don’t. He has a plan to save humanity and… he sees victory… That’s why I want to stay in the Survey Corps and fight,” he admitted and at that moment, you found yourself captured by that determination burning in his eyes.

His desire to fight for a better future.

Not only for the sake of you two, but for the sake of thousands of people.

And while you weren’t completely sure yet that you were ready to sacrifice your happiness and life for a bunch of people you didn’t know or care about, you knew that you were ready to sacrifice anything and everything for him.

And that’s why you stayed.

And he knew that. He knew you better than you knew yourself. But he chose not to call you out for this. Because he understood how you felt. He didn’t belittle you. He didn’t call you selfish or insensitive or a bad person just because you didn’t want to care about anyone else but him. What does selfish, insensitive or bad even mean? They are just vague concepts that are different from every person’s point of view.

And as more time passed, after every expedition, he could see why you wanted to leave. He could see why you didn’t want to fight. Every expedition, every death, left an impact on you, stealing bit by bit from your sunny personality and shaping you into a depressed, miserable person.

Even if you claimed that you didn’t care about strangers dying, deep, deep down, he knew you did. It was just the person you were, trying to convince yourself that you didn’t care about anyone but him in order to protect yourself. But on a deeper level you still cared and you were still affected and he knew that you hated feeling like this – it brought only chaos, confusion and misery to your mind and soul as you desperately tried to live up to your own expectations and build walls around yourself only for every brick to be broken as a comrade would send you a smile or compliment you or help you out with something. And after every expedition, he would gain a better understanding as to why you wanted to be selfish and leave. Why you wanted – why you tried forcing yourself – to stop caring about anything and everyone and run away with him – the one and only person who – you tried to convince yourself – mattered.

And he didn’t know why he couldn’t follow you. On many occasions, he felt the same. But somehow, for some reason, he would always find a way back to Erwin – back to the goal they shared for humanity. He didn’t know where that sudden loyalty for the blonde had come from – the same blonde who more or less had been the reason as to why Farlan and Isabel had died. But it was exactly this loyal bond that had formed between them that prevented Levi from following you and he hated himself for it because he could see how this life of soldiers was destroying you from the inside out and there were moments when he would lay at night and dark thoughts would cross his mind – of your body hanging from somewhere or him finding you drowned or with sliced wrists or a bullet stuck in the head.

It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers to turn to self-harm as a coping mechanism and some even committed suicide.

The fight against the titans wasn’t something to be underestimated and it left an irreparable damage on everyone.

And he could see you were heading that way and he hated himself for not being able to put a stop to this and just grab your hand and run away from everything – as you wanted.

That’s why he decided to distance himself from you. He thought that maybe if he started ignoring you, if he was being cold and distant, it would put a rift in your relationship. It would make you think that he didn’t love you anymore. That you were a painful reminder of the past. And once your bond was severed, nothing would be holding you back. Nothing would stop you from leaving. Because he was the only thing, the only reason, as to why you were still sticking around. And then maybe you would finally be able to find the peace and quiet you had been seeking for ages.

His conversations with you became shorter. His answers – curt. His affection and acts of service decreased. It had brought you to tears, thinking that you had done something wrong and it tore him apart when he caught you crying one night. But it was for your own good so he had to grit his teeth and bear with it never mind how much it hurt that he was causing you this suffering.

Him being promoted to a Captain helped a lot. Now he didn’t need to find reasons or excuses to not spend time with you because he was genuinely so busy all the time. The stress was making him snappy too so he tried avoiding conversations altogether, not wanting to actually say something hurtful because then he would feel even more pain and regret and that would have his resolve crumble and he would go back to being loving and affectionate which was far, far from the goal he had.

Then Oluo and Petra had entered the picture – two members fresh into the Survey Corps, graduated from the same trainee squad with incredible talent and promising skills. He had taken them into his squad but he didn’t know that this would be the final straw to put such a rift in your relationship.  

It was true that Petra was a bit clingy. Her infatuation, devotion and loyalty to him were obvious. But he thought it was a childish, fleeting crush which is why he didn’t find it necessary to confront her about it. He thought it would disappear over time, especially with how both she and Oluo seemed like an old married couple more and more with each passing day. He didn’t want to push away the members of his own squad. He wanted to embrace them. To embrace their friendship. On a subconscious level, he was trying to fill the gaps left behind from the people he lost. The gaps oozing loneliness and pain. The gaps you couldn’t fill because he wasn’t allowing you to in his haste to push you away.

And when one day he went to have lunch with Erwin, as the two needed to discuss important matters in his office, he wasn’t expecting the blonde to deliver such mortifying news to him.

“Look, Levi…I’m sorry to say this but… Y/N left the Survey Corps,” told him the Commander with a sombre tone and Levi felt his entire world shift.

Suddenly, regret flooded him, chilling him to the very last atom.

Erwin saw each and every emotion flashing in his eyes. And even if he wanted to remind his friend of the words he had told him years ago, he couldn’t.

Because there were things in this life that were impossible not to regret.

Like losing a loved one because of your or their own demons.

It was one thing to lose a loved one to death. And completely another to lose them because of your decision.

Levi didn’t utter a word, pressing his lips in a thin line as he swiftly stood up and turned on his heel, leaving the office with ebony bangs covering his eyes, shielding him from his friend’s look of pity and compassion.

He needed to think.

He needed time.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

You don’t realize how much someone or something means to you until you lose them.

No, that’s not exactly it.

Levi cherished you a lot. Levi loved you a lot. You meant the world to him. That’s why he wanted you to leave. He wanted you to find peace. He wanted you to live a good life away from that misery and bloodshed.

Even if it killed him on the inside.

Because if you truly love someone, you would let them go if it was for the sake of their happiness.

But now that he’s finally gone and done it. Now that he not only pushed you away as a lover but pushed you away from his life altogether, he felt lost.

He felt lost and miserable.

As if life was drained from any sound and colour, leaving him to float in some abyss, soaking in his own negative feelings.

The sorrow, the pain, the dread, the loneliness.

If he had to list them all, he would waste all of Erwin’s expensive parchment.

And as he laid there in his bed, after thinking and reflecting on everything for hours on end, staring at the ceiling with an empty bottle of alcohol shattered into pieces against the opposite wall – alcohol that barely got him tipsy – he realized that maybe he wanted to be selfish too. That, combined with the regrets of pushing you away, burned at his soul, melting any doubts he had, like a blacksmith melting steel, and solidified his resolve to find you and bring you back, like a new sword being forged.

So next day after he had gotten all his emotions, thoughts and feelings in check and after he had taken a decision, he approached Erwin and asked for your location.

He was unpleased when his friend told him that he had no idea where you went off to. Part of Levi wanted to be angry and yell at him. Accuse him of lying. But he was so tired after the emotional and mental battle he had wielded that he just gave up on his anger and frustration and decided that instead of letting such negative emotions rule over him, he would brush them aside instead and pave way for that same scorching determination he had for the Survey Corpse’s cause, now combining it with the determination of finding you.

And he didn’t stop.

Once he started, he didn’t stop.

He would visit every town, every village, whenever he was free from his duty.

He never stopped looking for you.

It took him roughly a year to scout most of Wall Rose’s lands.

But it was during one fateful evening, after the Scouts were returning from an expedition, when he spotted you.

The sun had just set, allowing the sky to be painted in purples and blues with shimmering stars being sprinkled onto the canvas. The street lanterns shone brightly and the comforting light spewing from them had illuminated a very familiar form.

A form that Levi knew like the lines of his own palm.

He hadn’t wasted time to jump from his black mare and chase after you. He didn’t want to approach and confront you right away so he just settled for walking at a slow pace behind you, trying his best to not be noticed or come off as some creep.

He seriously couldn’t believe his luck.

Knowing your thought pattern, he believed that you had run away somewhere far. Back in the days when you lived in the Underground, whenever you had arguments – which was very rare – you would always run away from home and hide somewhere far, knowing that it would be hard for him to find you and nearly giving him heart attacks because of it. But this time you had decided to hide right under his nose – near Trost district which was not far away from the SC HQ.

He counted himself outsmarted and he didn’t know whether to be annoyed by this or proud of you.    

You looked radiant even in the dusk. The cream dress you were wearing made you look like a vision, glowing in the dark. It reached a bit past your knees, revealing some of your calves while the upper part left your collarbones in the open. He longed to run his fingers over your skin. Through your hair. To touch you. To feel you. To hold you. To tell you what an idiot he was. How he wanted you back in his life because he couldn’t exist without you by his side.

To apologize.

“Are you going to keep following me or are you going to help me carry the basket?” your voice interrupted his train of thought and he cursed lightly under his breath. You chuckled and stopped in your tracks, turning around ever so slightly, eyes finally landing on the person you were so anxious to see again but didn’t have the courage to approach.

He wordlessly took the basket from your hands and began walking next to you.

All the way to your house you stayed silent.

He didn’t even comment when you exited the District and neared the woods, only lifting an eyebrow.

Your shoes and his boots clinked against the cobblestone pathway, the little door of the wooded fence creaking under your touch as you pushed it. His eyes scanned the yard, taking notice of the freely roaming chicken, a few lambs, one cow and one horse – your horse from the Survey Corps. He could vaguely make out a garden peeking from behind the house so he supposed you also had a backyard where you were growing your food. He almost flinched when a huge dog – almost as big as you and him – came running in your direction, demanding head pats which you gladly gave.

Levi was impatient. He wanted to enter the damn house already and talk. But at the same time, a part of him was happy about the delay. He almost gulped nervously at the thought of the following confrontation.

Almost.

At last, you unlocked the front door and the two took off your shoes, putting on slippers, and moved into the house. You took the basket from his hands and placed it on the kitchen counter before you grabbed a rag to wipe the table and beckoned the man to sit down. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, taking a step towards the chair before halting, looking at you rigidly, and resuming his journey until he was finally sat. You clenched and unclenched the rag before you threw it away and sat across him, fingers now playing with the soft fabric of your dress. You looked at the ground and he looked at your feet, noticing your toes curling and uncurling from nerves even through the slippers.  

“I-“

“Levi-“

You both said at the same time and you chuckled lightly at the cliché situation.

“You first,” uttered the man and you gulped, sending him a wobbly smile.

“I want to apologize-“ you took a short pause and an intake of air when you saw his eyes widening as his features twisted in a dumbstruck expression as if he was unable to process why you were apologizing. “-for leaving so suddenly without uttering a word. It was…childish,” you quieted down and he closed his eyes, sighing deeply. “You were walking further and further away from me, getting extra busy with being a Captain and…and then Petra came into the picture,” you muttered but were fast to wave your hands in defence, “Not that I ever doubted your loyalty! My trust in you would never waver but…I just thought that maybe we both needed a break. We needed to breathe and clear our heads and start thinking properly. That’s why I decided to leave and give us some space. I never truly intended on leaving the Survey Corps or abandoning you…You mean so much to me…but I’m still sorry that I-“

“Stop,” he rose to his feet and you quickly followed, anticipation and fear at his next possible words, building up inside of you, making you feel like burning. “You don’t have to apologize. You did nothing wrong.”

That calmed you down a bit, the fear leaving your mind, but instead, worry settled as you looked at the way he lowered his head and bit his lip.

“I acted wrongly…I was foolish by thinking that pushing you away would bring you the freedom and happiness you sought,” he muttered and your face softened. “I just,” he sighed as his trembling hand went through his hair in an attempt to ground himself. “I just saw how impacted you would get after every expedition…how you started losing that glow of yours, your bubbly and sunny persona…I saw how hard you were trying to force yourself to stop caring, to be selfish and leave, but you still couldn’t because…because you’re not like that… damnit,” he grit out as he tugged on a few strands before letting his hand fall and rest against his hip limply.

He kicked himself inwardly. He was never good at expressing himself. The moment he had seen you in the crowd, the moment he had set a goal to talk to you and sort everything out, he had been reciting in his head and thinking what exactly he was going to tell you and how he was going to explain himself and the reasoning behind his actions.

“I just-“

“-wanted me to be happy…So you thought that by being a dick and pushing me away, you would make me leave so I can find my peace and quiet somewhere far, far away,” you finished for him, deciding to help him out which caused him to halt in his speech and just stare at you, waiting for your next words, the terror of you rejecting him or telling him that you didn’t feel the same anymore felt like a nettle rope around his neck, getting tighter and tighter with each second, suffocating and scathing him. “Listen, while you might have been partially right, you were also wrong. Because even if I do find happiness away from all the bloodshed, it just wouldn’t be the same without you, silly,” you shook your head as you sent him a sad smile. “I’d rather endure all the pain and suffering in the world than be separated from you,” you finally took the courage to close the space between you as you laid your head on his chest, arms slowly sliding around his torso. He didn’t hesitate to return the hug, sharply bringing you closer, if that was possible, and squeezing you so hard you didn’t know whether to groan from pain or chuckle at seeing him express himself so openly and in such a sweet, boyish manner. It kind of brought back memories from the days you lived in the Underground and how he would hug you exactly like that when you would do something stupid that would put you at risk, albeit a bit more awkwardly since back when you were teenagers you both had no idea how to express your love for each other.

“Deep down I knew you were onto something. Because why would you start acting like that so suddenly? It just wasn’t in your style. But at the same time I felt…” he tightened his embrace even more and buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent and letting it comfort his tortured mind. He had missed you so unbearably much.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry,” he whispered and you sighed as you ran your hands over his back in a soothing manner.

“I forgive you, Levi…I understand that you did it for my own good. But believe me when I say that I can’t find true freedom or happiness without you by my side,” you placed a kiss on his shoulder before pulling away to look him in the eyes. “Don’t ever leave. Don’t ever try to make me leave. Let’s just stick together through thick and thin as we’ve done since we were kids, ok?” you asked and he nodded, leaning hesitantly. You met his lips halfway and you kissed gently which slowly turned into a passionate, hungry, heated and desperate make out as you tried to feel one another after a whole year of being apart. When you finally broke it off, needing air, you rested your forehead against his and let yourself soak in his presence. He did the same. You just stayed like that, foreheads touching, arms around one another as you swayed ever so slightly.

“Want to help me pack?”

[justalads]

c!niki and c!wilbur enjoyers. pspspspspspsps

alright guys so last night i rewatched pretty much all of the pogtopia arc. and this isn’t meant to be a big, important analysis post (it’s kind of incomprehensible), because my brain is fried from, you know. rewatching pretty much all of pogtopia. but i do have some stuff i’d like to say.

(this also just became a niki meta sorry i love her. i really just got emo about her during the second half of this and it got long. i have a lot of feelings about her and wilbur’s friendship.)

it’s a pretty general conclusion that wilbur’s real “downfall” began on october 8th, during the stream “who are you go away”. of course, his spiral and the process of him losing faith had begun much earlier, more around the end of the first war or during the election. but the big switch, so to say, was definitely here, when as wilbur walks back from schlatt’s announcement, he asks tommy if they’re the bad guys.

this entire scene was so interesting to me. wilbur here is a man who has lost hope, someone who is backed into a corner morally and has nothing left. he points out that they can never really reclaim l’manburg without forever tainting it, and that schlatt knows this. the entire half an hour or so before, schlatt has been taunting wilbur about losing that power. the emphasis of the festival on “democracy” is so clearly a barb thrown at wilbur, and it works.

wilbur’s “nothing left to lose” in this vod is a mirror to niki’s “you know what they say about a woman who has nothing left to lose”. this will not be the first time they mirror each other.

basically, wilbur’s angry. when schlatt announced the festival, wilbur realized that maybe it wasn’t a terrible thing. so once he worked around into the mindset of “we’re the bad guys”, he was able to justify saying he was going to blow up the nation with no remorse. he wants chaos! he wants no survivors!

does he do it? god no.

during the streams leading up to november 16th, wilbur is consistently scared. he goes back and forth on it, and makes multiple “conditions” that determine whether he’s going to do it or not, almost begging someone to stop him. he whispers to himself that he’s scared, that his hands are shaking, that he’s not sure if it’s the right thing to do. because despite what he says about “not caring about any of them”, the instant niki is threatened after tubbo’s death, wilbur walks up to schlatt and tells him that if he’s going to kill anyone it should be him. later, when quackity and tommy talk him down from pressing the button, he can’t press it because they’re there and he can’t bring himself to kill them as well.

but he has no problems with putting his own life at risk. he refuses to wear armor half the time, and actively places himself in harm’s way to save others. he still cares about everyone else, as much as he says he doesn’t. even when he does cause harm to others, during november 16th, he immediately begs phil to kill him. “look, they all want you to.” he can’t live with what he’s done, and how he’s hurt people, but he couldn’t allow manburg to continue.

the man is terrified and angry and he can’t win. and even as he tries to stuff himself into the mind of someone who doesn’t care, he cannot. when he finally does, he cannot live with being that person.

but the reason i rewatched this arc was to see niki’s point of view, especially after her statements during her last stream. i genuinely think that wilbur’s only betrayal of her was pressing the button, because he betrayed everyone. they might have known he was going to do it, but they had faith he wouldn’t.

wilbur cared a lot about niki. her life under schlatt was awful, wilbur hated that she was suffering, and the scene where wilbur plants himself directly in the center of the festival and tells schlatt to kill him instead hits pretty hard. he has the argument with schlatt, and then turns to niki and tells her to run. he then hits people and sprints away, trying to give her time to escape.

this is also when he asks her to join pogtopia, because now that schlatt has said he’d kill her, it’s a safer place for her.

so the man did care about her. niki is angry at the memory of him that she has. it’s been twisted by time and her own grief and paranoia.

in rewatching pogtopia, i realized that a lot of people hate the memory of wilbur. not him, and what he did. they think he didn’t care. and to quote hamilton (apologies):

“history obliteratesit paints me in all my mistakes”

does niki have a right to be mad at him? absolutely. he caused direct harm to her by blowing up l’manburg, once it was reclaimed. but she’s wrong that he never cared.

(an interesting note: wilbur only blows it up after techno starts fighting people outside. he hears it, and says “look, they’re fighting”. he didn’t re-initiate the conflict of the country. the fact that even after peace was won people were fighting just gave evidence to his belief that the entire country was corrupted.)

niki has been hurt a lot, and wilbur has things to answer for. but we as the audience know that her statements are just her perception. she is a character who acts on perceptions. the entire stream was in black and white. during doomsday, upon seeing wilbur log on (as ghostbur), niki has a panic attack and destroys her bakery, trying to rid herself of the pain of the memories. her lines during this stream are chilling, whispered repetitions that are a mirror of wilbur’s end.

(paraphrased, it was long and confusing but there are a few bits and this was the essence of it)

“wilbur is gone. this isn’t happening. he is dead. l’manburg is gone.”“it is real, i am real, he is real and he is dead.”“l’manburg is gone, i am real, i am l’manburg”.

(god. dude i could spend Months analyzing this one stream alone. there’s so much here.)

doesn’t that sound a bit like “my unfinished symphony”? wilbur and niki both attach their own self to the nation they fought for, and can see it as an extension of themself. they both destroy parts of it in acts of fear, attempting to save everyone else from what they’ve made.

what i pulled away from niki’s stream is that she’s not healing. i remember the chamber she locks herself in at night. i remember her refusal to eat. i remember how she was so angry at tommy, and she later realized that anger was misguided. niki genuinely believes that wilbur did not care about her, and that’s not surprising: when he died, she denied the fact that he was gone. she represses the things that she can’t handle, same as lots of other people. it is easier for her to pin her hurt on wilbur, because she needs somewhere to pin it. people feel more in control if they’re angry, not sad.

the song cc!niki said was for her character really emphasizes this. it’s a coping mechanism.

but even condemning wilbur won’t help, because she will still never get closure. niki cares about what others think of her, and so she can’t move on from someone hurting her. she can’t move on because she thinks he hated her. she is angry that he is back, but it is an opportunity for her to heal. she couldn’t heal when he was gone. she’s not the only one with a negative perception of wilbur, after all. he has one too. the two of them really need to talk.

i want niki to be healthy and safe. i want to see her heal so badly, and i do think it will happen. after wilbur died, his betrayal of her stayed with her, and it eventually became her memory of the betrayal that she hated, not the thing itself. it’s been months since it happened. niki wants to find an outlet for her hurt, because she wants to feel better. there’s a pattern i noticed: she only gets mad at people once she hasn’t seen the person themself for a while. and once she sees them and talks to them, and realizes that they care about her and don’t want to hurt her, she stops blaming them for it. she only hates her perception of them. example one? tommy.

man was in exile for a long time, and when he came back he “brought” fighting. that’s how niki saw it. but the fact that after she spent time with tommy (trying to kill him but. details, details) she forgave him because she saw it wasn’t his fault is a really good sign.

i genuinely think that speaking to wilbur will help niki, and it will also help wilbur. after all, they both hate wilbur. the entire perception of wilbur as some heartless, crazy manipulator needs to be shattered for both of their sakes. they both buy into it.

i want niki to know that others care about her, and that she has places she can feel safe. she hates that wilbur is invading the syndicate, because she’s scared of his memory hurting her. i don’t think wilbur will hurt her on purpose, because even though he sees himself as awful, he doesn’t hate her. he never did. usually, with people who have hurt someone else, i want them as far away from the person they hurt as possible. if wilbur does hurt niki i’ll probably cry. but again, it’s not him that hated her, or really him that hurt her in the way she thinks he did. when wilbur was dead, niki didn’t get any better. her memory of him festered and made her feel worse. that’s also why niki killing wilbur or hurting him somehow wouldn’t help her heal. i want wilbur to explain that he didn’t hate her. is wilbur even close to self aware enough to help niki? nah. this is going to take a Long time, and it’s going to hurt.

last thing i swear lol

during niki’s stream, she says that wilbur manipulated her. again, i watched pogtopia last night, and i’ve watched the rest of season one recently as well. i genuinely don’t see it. but i do think i know why she said it.

during season one, wilbur doesn’t manipulate niki. he doesn’t have a chance to later, he’s dead. so then, what is she talking about? of course it’s a perception, same as a lot of her other claims. i think she’s talking about how she cared for l’manburg.

niki joined the server as wilbur’s friend, to join his nation. she grew to care for l’manburg. she devoted herself to it, same as he did. but doomsday showed us that she hates that. in niki’s eyes, l’manburg only brought pain for people, and because she ties herself to it, she hates that she ever cared about it. she can’t allow herself to care for it, because it was used to hurt. so how does she cope with knowing that she once did? she pretends she didn’t.

if she can convince herself that it was wilbur who convinced her to care about l’manburg, she can avoid blaming herself for her own pain. and yeah, she shouldn’t blame herself for it. it’s not her fault. the entire situation is tragic and a little hopeless and once again really makes me hope that she recovers. l’manburg was ruined for her by others. schlatt, techno, dream, wilbur. again another place where she and wilbur are similar: they convince themselves they never cared about l’manburg because of the hurt it caused.

to summarize: wilbur’s going to get a shock soon. don’t know when, but probably the prison visit. something is going to shake his perception, the story is hurtling towards that. once he is able to take responsibility for what he did, and feel safe (because a lot of what he does now is out of fear of being alone or useless), then he and niki need to talk. niki needs something to get her out of her own head. she’s spiraling too. they are essential to each other’s recovery because of how much they meant (and mean) to each other.

anyways i miss early season one niki i liked it when she was happy :(

~ Lad 2

[plan-d-to-i]

LOL, watch the same weirdos who called lwj an abusive asshole like jc and yzy uniting with the freaks who call lxc evil and abusive, to headcanon jyl as this awesome politically aware and super loving and supporting sister, who was doing everything she could to help wwx even though he didn't accept her help! and we don't see it because it happened behind the scenes but the fact she never even asked if he was okay is because she knew he wouldn't answer and anyway lwj asked and what did it help? so she was right in not asking! and aCtuAlly jyl did more than lwj, really, and she was so much more worried because she loved and cared about him more!

we just need to read between the lines, just like we need to read between the lines to see how unhappy and uncomfortable wwx is living in CR because of the way lxc and lqr are abusive towards him, and also we need to read between the lines to see how wwx was super scared of lwj, fearing for his life!! and none of it is headcanon, it's obvious the interpretation the author wanted us to have, because if you interpret only what's in the text and say everything else is questionable unless the author makes it clear we should interpret it a certain way (e.g wwx's back being full of scars--him saying yzy didn't treat him that badly=yzy physically abused him even though he's making light of it) but if there's not even a single line about it then that's not supported by the text that's obviously the inferior way to do text analysis and is actually really bad faith on your part to not see how awesome jyl was in fighting the patriarchy in any way she could!! even though she also did not know anything because she was kept in the dark but also she was involved because her husband talked with her! but also she isn't seen doing more because she wasn't a cultivator but lwj was one so what he did is nothing and worthless! and more harmful! it's what the author wanted us to see!

but also, death of the author, lol, doesn't matter that mxtx said jc is straight, it's obvious that his feelings for wwx are romantic and he is actually a parallel to lwj. and jyl is also a parallel. because that's the only superior way to analyze texts, by making everything a parallel. super weird and offensive of you to not see it my way and ask about the text and details, that shows you are inferior and dumber and just don't want to acknowledge it.

⊙_ʘ what the fuck. My head hurts, it really does. I genuinely don't know if they actually think all that, if they really pick the most boring or basic characters to project on, or are just doing it for attention, none of this is doing any good for my paranoia.

((please ignore all this, bin this ask, it's just me venting))

haha y would you want me to bin this 🥲. This is one of the most comprehensive breakdown of all the dumb takes floating around. vent anytime. xx