#if your character got injured but was not written in here

[eratosmusings]

Stolen Destiny (IV)

summary: a proposal

warnings: adults only, all characters are over 18, past suicide, misogyny, allusions to murder, dark themes, canon typical violence, smut in future chapters

word count: 2k

previous chapter / dividers / masterlist

“The spitting image of your mother,” you hear more than once. Anger radiates from your father every time, yet he says nothing. He cannot in front of so many. How could he explain that the ghost of your mother fills him with such rage?

It’s a day spent in a stadium watching physical feats. It’s not all that entertaining in itself, but the guests are plied with drinks and food enough to not care. They place bets amongst themselves and you’re sure a few of them will end their visit here without a solari to their name. You want nothing more than to steal Irulan for the day, but duty kept her bound to the subjects who desired her attention. 

You weave through the crowd and let yourself be distracted by conversation with the lower houses. He watches. You can feel the weight of his gaze every time you smile or laugh or speak or breathe. 

“Looks like you’ve got someone’s attention,” one of the daughters giggles loudly. Others turn their heads. You brush it off and continue the conversation you’d been having about the next day's entertainment—an ancient play written before the Jihad.

The whispers of his attention follow you like his eyes. When it becomes overbearing you avoid it all and focus on the events in the arena. Men striking the ground with long poles to launch themselves over raised bars to see how far they land. The tightness in your shoulders eases when Feyd-Rautha finally breaks from the shadows. His looming figure shields you from the rays of the setting sun and the sight of intruding eyes as he stands beside you. “What uses would such a skill have?” he ponders. 

“Perhaps none,” you say. “But the strength they must build is noteworthy. These men train with swords and spears just as much as their poles.”

He hums in response as one of the men clears the bar. He lands the furthest you’ve seen, but his footing is poor. He doesn’t shout, though from his limp as walks away it’s evident the attempt injured him. “Perhaps they should train more on how they land.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Yes, perhaps.”

Together you watch in silence as the event rolls into the next.

“I must admit my surprise at your appearance today, my lady. I had thought you preferred a more subdued look.”

A man runs with a spear in hand. Inches from a line they’d drawn in the grass he throws it. “That is my father’s preference.” The tip embeds itself in the ground yards away. “Is it yours as well?”

He does not answer. He cannot. Paul invades the space between you. “Giedi Prime is a desolate place, my lady. Color and beauty do not survive under their black sun.” He is wrong. Beauty raised under that sun stands beside him. “You would be at place in Caladan. The sunset would envy your beauty.” That has nothing to do with what you had asked.

“I had not realized you were a poet,” Feyd-Rautha taunts and a smile nearly bends your lips.

“How could one not be in the presence of such a divine creature?”

“You are too kind.” You step away from him, wishing he’d have kept his distance. Had his stares not been enough? Would he not get the opportunity to humiliate you once again in a few hours? “If you’ll excuse me.” That’s all you leave them with. You can bear him no longer.

Fandral keeps a better eye on you. You’re barely down a flight of stairs before he is at your side. It’s a silent return to the castle. He has something to say, you see it in the way his mouth twitches every so often as he sits across from you in the vehicle, but he lets you enjoy the peace for a bit longer.

You have no choice in your evening attire. A dress that’s a sister to the ones the other women will wear. Makeup that will be seen from afar. It’s the only thing you don’t mind for the performance.

Despite your early departure, you’re late to the small room off the Great Hall. Fandral doesn’t question the delay. You suspect he knows the reason well enough now. Disapproval colors his cheeks. 

Your tardiness is unnecessary. Paul has not arrived yet. Still, the swordmaster reprimands you for it. You tune it out until you’re free. It’s a small comfort to see the woman with your swords again. She offers encouragement with them before retreating with the others. Enviously you watch. How you wish Irulan were here with you.

Paul arrives only minutes before your set to perform. He doesn’t receive the same scolding you had. He only has time to don his own swords while you and the others begin to file out. A small blessing.

You let your eyes unfocus as you step into the crowded hall. It’s better to not see the faces. Or his. Each pluck of a string and swirl of a skirt brings you closer to the end. As the clang echos when your swords meet for the first time, you think of how easy it would be to stab at his skin. The blade is dull, but with enough speed and force it wouldn’t be of much consequence. He didn’t have his shield.  

The thought ends as the sword once more slips out of your hand. His hand locks around yours and pulls. His chest presses against your back in a mockery of an embrace. Your eyes burn as they come back in focus. Or perhaps it’s the green fire in his as they bore into you from above.

The music wans and the applause rises. You try to escape his arms, but he holds firm. It’s a quick dip of his gaze that signals his intent. Your face moves an inch in time for his lips to brush against your cheek. Whistles echo in the deafening noise.

Feyd-Rautha watches from his seat at the head table. He’s too far to make out his face, but he’s impossible to not recognize. The degradation weighs heavy in your throat. A day ago he’d seen you as a worthy opponent. How must he see you now?

You’re freed from the cage of his arms. You bow with the others but do not stay. You cannot soak in the humiliation a moment longer.

Paul calls for you. You do not stop. Your name bounces off the walls of the corridor as you hope he’ll end his pursuit. But he does not allow such a reprieve. A hand grips your upper arm.

“Let me go,” you hiss, trying to pull free. He does not.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” He rounds on you, confusion written in the lines of his face. “I was caught up in the moment. I’m sorry.” He means it. You do not care. “Return with me, please. It’s your celebration.”

“I cannot. I must return to my room.”

“Please. Irulan wishes to see you.”

Disgust sours your tongue. How poorly his father had raised him. “I am sure the princess would prefer you to return to her alone. She has had enough humiliation tonight, I think.”

His hand falls away. “Humiliation?” 

You scoff. “I understand it may be hard for you to understand, but no woman wants to see her future husband kiss another. Especially not in front of so many people.”

The bastard laughs. When he sees the unimpressed look on your face, he asks, “Have I not made my intentions obvious?” He smiles. “The dance is an old engagement tradition on Caladan.” He chuckles, shakes his head, and adds, “Well a condensed version. The old one was much longer.”

Time. That is what you tell him you need. And it is. To reverse it. To retract the knowledge of his impending proposal. To revoke the invitation extended to the Atreides. To undo his very conception. Time is all you need.

He misunderstands your shock for one of pleasure and allows you to return to your room unaccompanied. Fandral waits by the closed door. "Did you know?"

"The young lord mentioned his desire for a marriage yesterday. He asked I not tell you."

"And since when did you serve House Atreides?"

"It is a good match, my lady. You would be safe under his protection."

You push the door open. "You may return to your normal post, Fandral. I require a personal guard no longer."

Sleep comes only briefly. The wake in the dark, the image of an achromatic silhouette contrasted against the warm hues of sunrise embedded in your vision. You dress quickly and slip through the corridors. The sounds of the party still linger. It's too easy to go unnoticed and begin the hour-long hike. Every step springs forward a new emotion. Frustration. Despair. Disgust. Terror. Fury.

Solace as you hear a rock skitter across the path behind you. You continue on without looking back or calling to him. He knows you know. Nothing more needs to be said yet. You reach the same spot you'd picniced days before in that blissful silence. Only when the sky begins to color does he finally speak. "The sunrise on Geidi Prime is not so colorful."

"Like its people."

He grins that wide, black grin. "Yes, like its people."

The sun begins to crest over the horizon when you guide him to the canoe still tied to the end of the dock. He does not question as the oars break through the still surface. Even as the overgrown and greying marble pavilion comes into view. He eases the canoe onto the shore and gives his hand to help you disembark. How wonderful it is to touch him again. How dreadful to let it go again.

“My father had this built for my mother when they married.” You take the steps up the once grand gift. “He was so infatuated with her in the beginning. At least that’s what she told me.” You rest your hands against the railings and stare over the water. The marble is cool and coated with a layer of damp. “And then she gave birth to me.”

His warmth soaks into your back, hands resting on the rails beside yours. “He’d been promised a son.”

“One who would marry the emperor’s first born daughter and one day ascend the throne.”

His breath fans across your ear. “Your father was displeased.”

“He drove my mother to try again and again. But nothing. It drove her into madness. Tied rocks to her feet and walked into the water.” She hadn’t tied them well. They found her floating only a day after she went missing. “All for nothing. My father is the one incapable. All he has and will ever have is me.”

“More than he deserves.”

You turn in the small space he’s left between him and the railing. There is no more than an inch that separates your chests. The warmth of the sun makes you sweat. Or perhaps that is from his closeness. It would be a simple thing. A small tilt of your head, a gentle push forward. Lips pressing together. Your heart skips at the thought. The wind rustles through the leaves of the trees and breaks the trance.

"Paul Atriedes is going to ask for my hand."

"And it displeases you."

"Has he not taken enough? And now he wants to tie me to him for the remainder of my days? To submit to him and birth his own heir? How could that not displease me?"

"Deny him."

"My father will not allow that."

"Perhaps we needn’t worry what your father thinks. He enjoys his drink, yes? It is rather miraculous he has not had an accident yet."

Your smile, bright and wide, reflects on his face. How easy he is to manipulate. You hadn’t needed to suggest anything, the violence embedded in his blood coming to the conclusion on its own. “He does indeed. I fear his luck may not last much longer.”

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[therealplaguedoctor]

Love at first bite

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Summary- Y/n is a professional protection dog trainer, and an ex bodyguard. What happens when an old friend of hers calls in a favor: getting his friend some protection. The fans seem to love her, others not so much. Especially not her clients father. Her client enjoys her company maybe a little more then he thought after the first bite.

TLDR- a collection of series of events that ends with two people who didn't really know they were in love with each other until one confessed

Warnings- dogs and dog bites, mentions of aggressive fans, cursing, google translated dutch, Jos Verstappen, stupid warnings: author is a dumbass and pretends she knows shit(she doesnt), American spelling, I never spell check, also y/n is very badass and is kinds just built different, sorry I like writing badass characters/people, also this might be a bit ooc I'm sorry for that :/

A/n- AHHH okay so I kinda hate (hate as in thinking I could do better) and love this(?) I wish it was better written ngl but it is a oneshot so I wasn't able to go into more detail so I feel like the writing is a bit rushed sorry about that I promise I will get better in the future :,)

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BREAKING NEWS: Fomula one driver Mav Verstappen got injured after crazy drunk fan attacked him.

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BREAKING NEWS: Max Verstappen revealed that he is looking into more security in an interview

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"We're sure you've seen the questions around what happened immediately after qualifying. Can you add anything to that situation? Like with your current security?"

Max picked up the mic wanting to be anywhere but here "well I will be looking for personal security. As all the security that is normally seen around me is provided via the FIA." He said "But to speak on that manner any behavior like that should not be tolerated" he put down the mic as the interview turned to ask Lewis a question.

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After the interviews were over Max just wanted to relax and forget about the crazed fan. But before he could disappear into redbull hospitality he heard his name from a familiar voice.

"Max!" Lewis called stopping in front of him "Hey mate I think I know someone that I can call to help you with your security" he smiled

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"Stellen" (bite) you yelled at Goose, which sent him barreling towards the man with the bite sleeve. Goose launched himself up and bit down on the sleeve. The man, Tony, aggressive, shook his arm.

You felt you phone in your pocket buzz with your familiar ring tone. You pulled it out and looked at the caller ID: Sir Lewis Hamilton. You answered the call before yelling "Loslaten" (out) to Goose who immediately let go of his arm.

"Hey Lewis what's up?" You asked as you waved off Tony telling him he's good to leave.

"Hey Y/n" he said dragging out your name a little

"Lewis" you said in a warning tone "what did you do?"

"Okay one rude, I didn't do anything." He huffed "but I do need a favor?" He asked

"What's up?" You asked again "it's not like you to ask for favors"

"Well: my friend, another driver, he had a fan attack him and he needs protection cause he doesn't really have a security team"

"Lewis I can't get him a trained dog in a day" you sighed

"I know" he said "but you're still a certified body guard aren't you?" He asked hopefully

"Lewis." You said

"I know it's a big ask" he said "but I was talking with him earlier and he's willing to pay big bucks for you to be protection for him AND train him a dog." He said

You sighed knowing that he'll continue until you say yes "fine" you said "when can I set up a meeting with him?"

"Uhh I can say next week tuesday? We can do whatever time" He said "cause after this race we have a small break then it's actually race week in Miami"

"Okay Lewis, I'll find a dog for him before then, and start training" you said "if you say he's serious about this then I'll belive you"

"Thank you so much" Lewis said "I'll let him know"

"Yeah yeah, bye Lewis"

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You sat in your small office. You didn't use it much only for meeting with clients about protection dogs or getting their dogs trained, you wanted to have a atleast semi professional space due to your clientele.

A knock at the door cause you it sit up and stop spinning in your chair.

"Come in" you called.

The door slowly opened revealing a happy Lewis. Goose didn't move from his bed next to you instead looking up at the man.

"Hey Lewis" you smiled

"What's up?" He asked rhetorically as he sat in one of the chairs across from you.

Another man walked in behind him, he looked around the room as if taking it in, this must be Max the guy Lewis was telling you about.

"Hello its nice to meet you" you smiled as you stood up and extended you hand "my name is Y/n L/n"

He shook your hand "Max Verstappen" he said before sitting down

You did the same sitting in your chair "so I have been made aware that you're looking for a personal protection dog" you said "along with the fact in the mean time you're looking to hire my bodyguard services" you said as you pull up the contract you had drafted earlier on the computer.

"Uh yes that's right" the Dutch man said

"Okay" you said as you quickly checked over the document spinning your screen around so he can read it-

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After discussing the contract along with pay you both sign it. Solidifying the deal.

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"Okay so now that we have that settled" you said as you stood up "we should have you meet your new dog" you smiled "Hier" (come) Goose got up and followed you out if the room the two men behind him.

You took out the keys and unlocked the kennel for a German shepherd pup "he's still a bit young, just under a year actually" you said "but he has the basics down so it's now just bite training" you explained

Both men nodded as they watched the pup and your dog Goose interact.

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Media day, the day Max wished didn't exist. He finally got out of his car as you approached him with Goose to your immediate left.

"Good morning" you smiled "large crowd at the gates, mostly photographers only a few fans, I recommend staying on the right side as you walk into the paddock" I explained "it's mostly photographers on that side and no interviewers"

Max nodded as you talked he followed your instructions. You put on your sunglasses to block the flash of the cameras.

Max made it past the hectic paddock entrance with you right behind him Goose walking by your side.

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As Max walked through the paddock he wasn't approached by any interviewers. He could get used to that.

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Max sat down ready to record some content for the redbulls media team. You positioned yourself out of the way but with a good view of everything as well as all the entrances.

Daniel soon arrived and noticed you almost immediately sitting down he leaned over to Max and asked "who's that? With the dog?"

"Oh that's, Y/n" Max explained "She's my new bodyguard"

"She looks badass" Yuki comments scaring the shit out of both Daniel and Max "where the fuck did you come from?!" Max shouts

You quickly looked over and watched the interaction, Yuki had been up there the entire time.

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As the recording came to an end you stood from where you were leaning. Watching Checo leave, followed quickly by Daniel and Yuki who look like they needed to be somewhere. Max started towards the exit you quickly followed him.

Begrudgingly Max sat down in front of a mic that had a big 'sky sport' on it. You stood just off to the side of the camera, completely out of frame and able to watch to one side of Max as you had Goose watching behind yourself.

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As Max answered the repeat questions he finally heard the one he's been dreading:

"So Max this morning you walked in with a lady who had a dog. Care to comment about that relationship?" The interviewer asked.

"She's my bodyguard" he stated

"She's your bodyguard..?" The guy asked like he didn't just hear him

"Yes."

"If you don't mind me asking why her?"

"She was recommended by a friend." Max said nonchalantly

"Sorry let me clarify my question" the guy said. Oh no, you knew where this was going. "Why not a male body guard they're stronger no?" He asked

"Are you insinuating that just because she's a women she wouldn't be a good bodyguard?" Max asked

"Well no-"

"No it's exactly what you're doing" he said "you media people always ask the stupid questions" he hissed "that is so fu-"

He was cut off by you "Max de camera staat nog aan" Max the camera is still on.

Instead of continuing he just gets up and leaves, cutting the interview short. You follow quickly, commanding Goose to walk next to Max as you figured Max didn't want to be approached by anyone. Scary dog privileges are the best.

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He opens the door to his driver room.

"Hier, blijf" (come, stay) you quickly rattled off to Goose who quickly went to your side and stopped next to you

Max also stopped in his tracks.

"Sorry" you quickly apologized "he's trained in dutch"

Max shook his head "no need to apologize" he said and then motioned you inside "but I don't want him out in this heat please come inside" he said

You weren't gonna argue with your boss "Volg" (heel) you commanded Goose as you walked into his driver room. Max walked in right behind you.

You stood off to the side as Max sat on the couch. He quickly motioned for you to sit down. You did just that.

Goose sat at your feet between you and Max. Max was obviously still pissed at what the guy said, you could see it on his face.

"You know" Max started "I've never been a dog person" he said "I like cats more"

"Huh," you said "I've always been a dog person" you said "started with the herding dog on my family's farm"

Max nodded as you talked before asking "can I pet him?" motioning to Goose

"Oh yeah of course" you smiled "as long as we aren't in a camera shot give him all the love you want" you chuckled "gotta keep his image up of a cold blooded killer, until the media finds my insta" you chuckled.

Max smiled as he ruffled Gooses head earning a lick from the dog.

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BREAKING NEWS: Max's new bodyguard, Y/n L/n has a trained protection dog named 'Goose'. Click here to read more!

One image attached!

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You and Max finally left his driver room as he had another media appearance with another interviewer.

Max walked in front of you Goose to his left. You grabbed the door opened it for him. You followed him inside "volg" (heel left), you told Goose who then fell in step beside you to your left.

You followed Max till he sat on the couch opposite of the interviewer. Instead you stood against the wall out of view of the camera.

"Okay" the interviewer said giving the signal to start rolling "so before we start with the questions: would you want to have your bodyguard sit down?" She asked, she sounded genuine

Max then turned to you "wil je gaan zitten? ze kunnen je vragen stellen..." (do you want to sit down? they might ask you questions...)

You responded "Ik vind het niet erg om vragen te beantwoorden. Wil je dat ik ga zitten?" (I don't mind answering questions, do you want me to sit?)

"Ik vind het prima als jij dat ook bent" (I am okay with it if you are) Max said

You gave a quick nod before walking over and sitting on the couch, next to Max. Turning to Goose you said "Bewaken" (guard), causing him to lay down in front of Max.

Turning to the camera the interviewer started "Hello everyone it's Stella here!" She smiled "and I am joined today by Max Verstappen and his bodyguard..."

"Y/n" you said "and Goose" motioning to your dog.

She smiled "and today we are asking the new, the old, and the frequently asked questions." She turned to Max "okay to start off, Max we'll start with frequently asked questions: do you think you'll win the 2024 world championship?" She asked already knowing the answer.

"Of course I will" Max said "if I don't have that mindset then I have no chance"

"Moving onto the old news: China after quali" she said "most fans just do wanna know what happened and are you okay"

"Well obviously I'm okay," he said "but the fan was drunk and belligerent after I was able to take the win," he said "knowing that he was outside of the paddock I shouldn't have left but I'm lucky at the security near the entrance was able to quickly get him away" he said "he surprised me honestly" he shrugged

"Okay now onto the new: your bodyguard Y/n" she said "everyone wants to know more about her" so that's why she wanted to have you on the couch.

Max quickly turned to you "Vind je het goed om te antwoorden?" (You good to answer)

You nodded grabbing the mic he held out: "it's a bit of a story but: I was actually the dog trainer for Roscoe, Lewis Hamiltons dog," you said "I'm a well known dog trainer in Miami I have trained several dogs for a lot of celebrities. Some for protection others just to have a trained dog" you said "but anyways Lewis called me I think the day of the incident" you thought "and we talked for a second and he asked if I still had my bodyguard certification" you said "which is really just a formality but for my job before I started training dogs I was security for a large club in Miami and we needed it" you explained "so after a meeting with Max we signed a contract that is basically me being his bodyguard with Goose until I have trained a dog for him" you finished, handing the mic back to Max.

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The drive to his hotel was relatively quiet besides the soft hum of the radio.

"When we arrive at the hotel do not get out" you said "keep the door locked till I have my hand on the handle" you explained "people are crazy here especially where your hotel is located"

Max nodded as you pulled the car up

You quickly got out shutting the door opening the door for Goose then opening the door for Max. People were everywhere, people shouting, some where drunk others just crazy. You quickly led Max to the entrance of the hotel and bid him a goodbye.

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Friday and Saturday were uneventful. But Sunday was race day, the day the MOST amount of people all week.

Walking next to Max, "rechts" (heel right), Goose moved to the right side of Max you walked on his left side. You were able to easily enter the paddock.

Finally its race time you placed the dog ear muffs over Goose to protect his ears. The had just finished the formation lap. The lights turn red one by one, then all go out hearing the infamous "lights out and away we go"

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Lando Norris had won the Miami grand prix. His first win. Max was really happy for him. Wanting to go out to celebrate but not wanting to get attacked he turned to you:

"Y/n do you mind coming out tonight?" He asked "I don't want to miss Landos first win celebration, but I you know need protection" he joked

"Sure I'll baby sit you" you joked back. Little did you know that was basically what you ended up doing.

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As it was Landos first win they were going hard. You stood off to the side watching them all carefully making sure nothing happened to Max specifically. They decided to leave this bar going to the next. You follow them out walking just behind the group.

"Verstappen!" A drunken voice called, "why the fuck did you let that fuck boy win" the man slurred

Stepping between the two quickly "step back" you said firmly to the drunken man.

"What are you gonna do about it?" The man slurred

"Blaffen" (speak) you called, causing Goose to start barking aggressively grabbing his collar as he started going manic as he barked.

The man quickly backed away before almost bolting down the street you shook your head "foei" (no), Goose immediately stopped "Bewaken" (guard) he stood next to Max ready to start walking again

"We're good" you said to him and the group

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Luckily nothing else happens that night. But not as lucky Max was beyond wasted. You were able to get him into the car and buckled him up shutting the door. You open the back door for Goose having him jump in. You got in and started driving realizing that you only knew where his hotel is and not his room you decide to drive to your house.

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Getting him into your house was an adventure. He was basically a dead weight, after an insane amount of effort you got him onto the couch in your living room and threw a blanket on top of him. Placing some advil and water on the coffee table next to him.

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As the job progressed and Max's new dog got trained many races were uneventful. The media attention on both of you had died down to what it was before Max got attacked. You are featured in some clips and interviews just answering the odd question or pulling Max away to get him out of range of anything dangerous. That is your job anyways.

The only big changes was social media: you stopped posting after getting a substantial amount of followers. People still comment on your old posts asking when your next post is. And the edits.. People are making edits of you and Goose being badass and it honestly makes you happy seeing all those cool edits. You'd take it to your grave but you love watching them in you bed late at night when you can't sleep.

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It was the Austrian grad prix. Lando and Max had gotten into it on the track causing Lando to get a dnf, and Max to drop to 5th place. He stormed off disappearing before you could catch up to him.

You eventually find him sitting in one of the chairs looking at the ground, with his helmet still on. As a man you don't recognize yells at him.

"Hey!" You shout storming over "back away from him"

The man with anger in his eyes glanced at you but went back to yelling at Max. Ypu quickly said "Blaffen" (speak) to Goose, he started barking at the man

"Get back" you commanded again

Finally he looked at you "Do you know who I am?" He asked all proud

"I don't fucking care who you are" you snapped "step away from my client" you said firmly

He turned back to Max and began yelling in Dutch to fast and angry for you to make it out. You were about to intervene again until the man raised his hand as if to strike Max

"Stellen, stellen" (bite, bite) you quickly commanded Goose letting go of his collar. The dog jumped up and bit the raised arm the force sending the man to the ground.

As this is happening Max watched it, he looked up just as you called for Goose to bite his father.

You followed your dog holding the man to the ground before commanding "Loslaten" (let go) Goose dropped the now bleeding arm. "Bewaken" (Guard), Goose stood in front of Max now defensively.

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Security arrived with medical and as they treated the dog bite you explained to them what happened pointing the the cameras around as well as a fan that recorded the entire interaction on his phone.

After a bit of talking and reviewing security bid you a goodbye and left. Citing that you were doing you job.

You then sat down next to Max who still hadn't taken off his helmet. "Who was that anyways?" You asked him as you quickly cleaned the blood off of Goose.

"My dad" he said muffled from the helmet

"Oh" you responded

"Yeah" Max said

The air filled with awkward silence before you said "let's get you back to the drivers room to cool down you still have interviews" Max just nodded making his way to his drivers room. You follow him inside Goose quickly settled by the door as you went to Max who sat on the couch with his helmet still on.

Reaching over you unclipped it and took it off, placing it on the table. Max took off his balaclava throwing it next to the mask.

"Sorry" you said "about your dad"

"I- no- uh" he groaned frustrated "You're fine you were just doing your job" he said a little snippy. He didn't want it to come out like that but it did.

You just nodded as he talked listening before saying "okay we gotta have you head to the media pen before someone yells at us and you get a fine" you said standing up

Max just nodded and followed you out if the drivers room.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Media was done and all Max wanted to do was go back to the hotel. You don't blame him you'd want that too.

After the media pen Max was almost a shell of himself. So just to make sure he's okay you walked inside the hotel and got him to his room, you also needed to talk about earlier. When he opened the door to his hotel room and motioned you inside you were quick to oblige.

The room was nice it was similar to one of those one bedroom apartments just minus a kitchen.

Max settled down on the small couch letting out a sigh.

You just stood a bit awkwardly as Goose sat down next to Max's feet earning a few pets from the Dutch man.

"We gotta talk about today" you said breaking the silence

Max groaned "Do we have to...?" He asked

"I mean yeah" you said "Goose bit your father" you said "I'm sorry I didn't-" before you could continue he interrupted you

"You were doing your job" he said "you had no clue what he could have done or actually what he was going to do" Mac explained "you did what you thought was best to protect me. Which is your job" he leaned back on the couch and then muttered to Goose "thank you"

You ran through the situation in your head again. Jos, which you learned was the man's name, was actually going to hit Max.

"He was actually going to hit you wasn't he?" You asked him

Max stayed silent that's all the answer you needed

"Well now I wish I didn't tell Goose to let go"

Max cracked a smile, "thank you" he said this time looking up at you.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Both you and Max were in his driver room. It was media day for the British Grand Prix, but Max had been waiting to hear back about his next interview as the time.kept changing. You thought that they just wanted to keep him here as long as possible.

Max was watching the small TV as he sat next to you on the couch. You were on your phone just scrolling through some random social media apps. Goose was laying down by the door.

While both of yall were waiting Max fell asleep next to you. Because of the way he was sitting when he fell asleep he was leaning against your shoulder. Eventually you fell asleep too.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Later you slowly wake up but are held in place by some strong arms. You blink awake adjusting to the light. You laid on your side on the couch and where held in place by a sleeping Max. You tried to move to get up but were just pulled right back down. Giving up rather quickly you went back to sleep.

Max gently shook you awake. "Hey Y/n" he said softly, "we should head back to the hotel" he was blushing but it was kinda hard to tell in the lighting

You just nodded as I slowly got up and stretched quickly gathered you items.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

BREAKING NEWS: Max and Y/n seen leaving the drivers room late at night. What does this say about their relationship: Professional? Friendly? Or is there more?

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

"Mate you're all over the news" Lewis said to you on the phone as you got ready

"What do you mean?" You asked as you got ready

"You and Max were spotted leaving his drivers room late last night, together." Lewis explained

"Fuck."

"Yeah" he said "I'm at the track already and people are asking me about it"

"What have you been saying?" You asked leaving the hotel room Goose at your side

"I've been saying: I don't know the relationship, and that uh you're his bodyguard so whatever he was doing in the room you have to be there cause when he leaves you have to make sure nothing happens and shit"

You sighed "thank you Lewis" you said as you opened the car door for Goose and shut it before getting in yourself, and starting the car.

"It's no problem" the brit said "but are you two...you know..?"

"God Lewis!" You said "no we're no fuck buddies"

He just laughed "come on you knew I had to ask"

"I'm hanging up now" you said ending the call.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

After collecting Max from his hotel and you started driving.

"You seen the news?" You asked

"I have yes" an uncomfortable silence filled the car before you spoke

"Lewis said that he's been telling media that cause I'm your bodyguard I have to be with you basically 24/7 so we can just stick with that" you said "I mean it is the truth"

"Yeah" he nodded quickly, he didn't know that you knew he was cozying up to you on that small uncomfortable couch.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Media was lovely that day and respected both of you- said no one ever.

Several times you had to yell at people to back up or even push a few people away. And media was eating it up:

BREAKING NEW: Y/n L/n 'defends' Max Verstappen from media is it more than just bodyguarding?

BREAKING NEWS: Y/n L/n pushes away journalists, bodyguard or overprotective girlfriend?

BREAKING NEWS: Y/n L/n thought to be more than just a bodyguard, is Max taking the 'body' out of bodyguard?

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

The last title made you gag how does that get approved? It doesn't actually bother you to much but it's gross.

You sat on that uncomfortable couch reading the news, almost every single station had something about you two leaving the drivers room late, or about you pushing away journalists.

You let out an annoyed huff tossing your phone on the small coffee table. Max leaned over a bit to look at it.

"Why are you looking at that shit?" He asked

You just shrugged

The last articles name caught his eye he double checked "what the actual fuck" he hissed "this is bullshit, why the fuck would the title an article this" he was pissed. You don't know entirely why they weren't saying anything about him.

"I don't know" you just shrugged

"You aren't mad at this?" He asked before continuing "It doesnt matter, I'm going to go punch the fucker who wrote the article" not wanting him in any legal trouble, mostly cause you knew he would punch the guy, you stood up and quickly blocked the door.

"Nope" you said simply "the article title is just that: an article title. I know it's not true you know it's not true so why does it matter" you asked

"It's disgusting" he said "they shouldn't talk about you-"

You cut him off "exactly! Me they are only talking about me in a bad light so why do you car so much?" You asked a little ticked that he was still trying to get passed you

"Because I care about you okay!" He confessed "I know it's dumb, you're my bodyguard and I-" he was cut off by a kiss.

You didn't know how but you ended up kissing him. He quickly reciprocated grabbing your chin pulling you closer.

As you both broke the kiss catching your breath you rested your foreheads against eachother looking into his eyes you smiled.

"When did you fall for me?" He asked

"When we cuddled on that uncomfortable couch" you smiled he blushed

"I didn't know you were awake for that" he said softly

You chuckled softly "when did you fall for me?" You asked

"It was love at first bite" He said "when you were protecting me from my father."

Then they fu-

Fin.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

[unhinged-simp]

I’m a new follower haha, I am super happy that you are taking requests! I love the students from hotarubi so much!! I am also a hotarubian (at least according to the house sorting in the early game). Would you mind writing a soulmate AU for the hotarubi characters? Thanks a lot!!!

Soulmate AU with the Hotarubi boys.

I don't mind at all! This was my first time doing a soulmate au, so I hope it turned out good. I was also sorted into Hotarubi, and I love all of them(though Subaru's my favorite). I didn't really change anything except for the soulmate part, so I did skip around a bit.

Each boy has a different soulmate prompt for variety. I’ll label the ones I used. I decided to use the prologue for Haku, since that's when we meet him.

Spoilers for the Hotarubi chapter

Subaru: Same markings

You had always wanted to find your soulmate. The same person that shares the mark you have on your skin. 

Despite your best efforts, you haven't found them yet.

Years passed on, and you just decided to give up.

In the end, you ended up forgetting about your soulmate. Perhaps you’d find them sooner rather than later.

You were on an assignment from Darkwick to inspect Hotarubi. And you were going to meet the Captain. 

He came in and knelt before you, and introduced himself. However you caught a glimpse at the mark on his hand, one that matched yours.

“It's you,” you said, confusing both Haru and Subaru. 

“What?” Subaru asked.

“The mark on your hand. It's the same as mine.” 

You showed him your hand. His eyes widened at the sight. 

“So you’re my soulmate.”

Haku: First word said to each other

“All right. Let's get out of here for starters.” Were the words written on your arm. 

You had often questioned them, like why were those the first words your soulmate said to you?

Then you got saved from an anomaly, and almost got thrown out of the train by the boy who saved you. Fortunately you were saved by another boy.

“All right. Let's get out of here for starters,” he said. You tried to say something, but the boy played his flute and you fell asleep.

When you woke up, the train was back to normal. 

“Sorry, but I’m still here,” the boy said, watching you from the seat beside you. 

“Huh? Aha-” You nearly fell to the ground due to your injured leg. 

“Whoops, looks like we injured a civilian.” 

“Wait a second,” you yell. The boy looks up.

“What is it?” He asks. 

“You're my soulmate,” you exclaim, showing him your arm. The boy looks down at his arm.

“Well, what do you know,” he mutters. 

Zenji: Red Strings

You had often stared at the red string wrapped around your pinky. 

You wondered what your soulmate was like, and how you would meet.

But something happened. One day, a year before you had come to Darkwick, your string turned black, and was cut.

You were heartbroken. Why did this happen? Did something happen to your soulmate?

Then after working on a mission, Haku took you and Subaru to the teahouse, and revealed the third ghoul in Hotarubi.

“Are you Zenji?” You asked the boy now in front of you. He seemed ecstatic that you could see him. 

“You can see me, my dear?” He asked. And when you nod, he grabs your hand in delight. 

Then the dead string that you had on your pinky reacted. It reached out to connect to the dead string on Zenji’s finger. 

“You’re-” you started, before you were interrupted by the happy crying of Zenji.

“My dear.”

[dreamingkitsunewrites]

PART 1:  Of Invisible Threats and Piercing Gazes

SUMMARY: Your life has always been a  simple one, and you were kinda content with that…work, friends, family, house chores occupied your dull daily routine. But that was until one fateful Monday night, when you hung out late from the safety of your apartment to take the trash out… After that night’s surprising encounter with a couple of ‘unconventional’ men in an alley, your life took an unexpected turn, leaving you questioning if your beloved comfort and caution towards the unknown had always prevented you from discovering a brand new face of the world you lived in…and wanting to know more about the mysterious, elegant man who had irreparably caught your attention…

⚠️Trigger Warning: mentions of blood, injuries and suggestive language; swearing.

A/N: this is my first proper written work...Sorry in advance for the mistakes (English is not my first language)...not smut in here but this is just the beginning (from part 2 on things will get way more spicier😏) I hope you'll enjoy the reading!

Taglist: this work is dedicated to @chouzuko 🖤 thanks for the support 🙏

It was a usual Monday night and you fell asleep on your couch while watching your favorite TV show. Monday evenings have always been the loneliest since you moved out on your own…no family around, no friends because you all have just got home tired from the first working day of the week. You had soon learnt that the only company for those nights were the ones offered by your comfortable pjs, ice-cream and the characters of the series.

You woke up at the end of the episode to an awfully loud commercial song from a spot on the TV. You sighed heavily and lazily reached for your phone, the same phone you had previously thrown somewhere across the room in a gesture of annoyance towards your inexorable boredom. You checked the hour: almost 1am. You suddenly remember you forgot to take the trash out, so with a frustrated groan you reluctantly dragged yourself off the couch and reached for your long night robe, as you didn't want to hang out alone in the dangerous streets around your block at night in nothing but the little cropped shirt and shorts of your PJ's.

You grabbed the trash from your small balcony, and descended the quiet stairs of your building. As soon as you set foot out of the building, the cool night air sent a shiver down your spine. You approached the usual trash deposit at the corner of the dark alley next to your block, but before you could even reach it,  you froze midstep with your trash in your hands at the scene unfolding in front of you: a tall, black-haired, muscular man was stabbing an invisible target with an incredible rhythm, as if in a state of unexplainable frenzy. Just a few steps away from the ongoing surreal battle, stood a man with his hands buried deep in his suit pockets and a cigarette between his teeth. He looked calm and collected, studying coldly the scene in front of him, his shoulders relaxed, as if he was totally unbothered by the nonsense happening in front of his eyes.

They hadn't even noticed you arriving, not yet… In a matter of seconds, the situation escalated quickly and irreversibly in front of your eyes: a sudden gust of energy shifted the air around you and another invisible being seemed to be jumping off one of the metallic emergency staircases without warning and landing on the muscular man’s back, tearing a terribly deep scar open…

“ Fuck it…I was right, that motherfucker wasn't the only one in here”. The elegant man hissed under his breath, throwing his cigarette to the rough ground, barely centimeters away from your slippers… It was then that everything happened, a matter of seconds made your whole world to tremble…

In the precise moment the man in a suit turned and met your widened eyes, while in the background, an animal-like grunt came from the other fighting man: the invisible 'thing'  injured him once more, this time tearing his abdomen open right in a delicate, vital zone.

“Fuck…tonight's definitely cursed” the man exclaimed while rushing forward, where the injured guy was now laying on the ground… you shivered, silently questioning yourself whether those invisible entities were still around…and why you seemed to be the one who could not see them…

“ Damage Assessment Toji…you’re strong, big guy…hey…shit..it’s deep” he hissed at the deep scar.

“That motherfucker hid from us in that block..ngh…fuck.. it stings. Is it that bad,Shiu? The deal..will they liquidate us the same?” The injured man asked him, finding the strength to lift his tight bloodstained shirt to him while wearing a wicked grin, revealing the entity of the ripped skin.

“Shut the fuck up, big head…we have company…” the man in a suit tilted his head in your direction, announcing your presence to the injured guy. You couldn't move a limb, too shocked by the whole situation. “Don’t speak… You’re losing a lot of blood…shit, Toji we’re fucked this time” The man in a suit bent downwards and lifted his mate’s arm over his shoulder.

“Fuck…be careful, Shiu..it hurts as hell. What is the plan?” the latter asked, barely containing a whimper.

“There’s no plan at all this time, Toji… the only plan now is that you’d better survive until we reach the headquarters” The man stated with a hint of concern in his small,sharp, slanting eyes.

Just when he turned in your direction you could see his appearance clearly: he was a toned, average built man with short black hair, neatly styled upwards  in a longer front tuft and shorter on the sides. His piercing gaze was topped by thin eyebrows and his even thinner lips, now contorted in a fatigued expression as he lifted his muscular friend from the ground, were topped by a sparse mustache. He looked overall peculiar at least, and his Korean-like features made him look even more appealing to your curiosity.

His eyes landed on you and a another thrill crossed your bones: there was something about him… you immediately found him attractive,yet he held an allure of mystery you couldn't shake off.

“ What are you looking at, doll? Ditch the trash and get back to your comfy house…the show’s over” the injured guy scoffed with its signature wicked grin. You noticed the visible scar on the corner of his lips and you soon understood that the strange couple's business wasn't a peaceful one…

“He’s right… this place is not suited for a good one like you…” The elegant man addressed you directly, his unreadable gaze scrutinizing the depth of your intentions.

You knew you should have turned on your heels and got back to your boring normal Monday night, but you simply couldn't help wondering what would have happened to that man… and what kind of things were the invisible ones in the alley? Were they still around? 

Throwing caution to the cool night breeze, you took a decision and finally spoke:

“You are definitely taking him to the hospital,will you right? Will he be fine? He needs to see a doctor..Now” You asked the elegant man, receiving a low, grunty chuckle from the other, bleeding one.

“No, doll…" the man in a suit shoot a curious glance at you "People like us are invisible.. we’ll get through this on our own…what happened tonight stays in this alley, understood?” 

You nodded: “ You have my word I will keep the secret, but please…” you inhaled deeply to conceal the crack in your trembling voice “let me take care of him… I’ve attended a first aid course years ago, I can help him…he needs healing…my apartment is right in the next block” You finally locked your eyes with the elegant man’s one, feigning a fierce stare. His eyes landed on his aching, semi-conscious friend once more before turning back to you: “ fine…lead the way…”

…

That night you let two strangers, two mysterious men into the safe nest of your apartment. The three of you rushed inside avoiding your neighbors noticing their unusual presence.

Once you opened the door, you ran into your living room and pressed your stuff off the table to the ground with a rapid sleight of hand, creating an improvised operating table.

“Lay him here…I’ll get back in a sec with the necessary…we need to sanitize and stitch his wounds…they look deep.. in the kitchen counter over there there's a pack of painkillers.. find it” you announced to the man, whose suit was turning crimson red from the blood spilling out his mate's abdomen.

He eyed you down silently, his thin brows furrowing slightly as trying to convey a silent doubt, avoiding saying something you soon understood: "And yes…you can trust me…" You bowed your head to him, locking gazes with his surprised, slightly widened eyes. 

"No questions,doll" He reminded sharply and coldly, yet conveying a silent wave of gratitude in his softening stare. You answered disappearing in the bathroom and coming back with the necessary…

…

The process had been long and painful. You had to try your best and carry on your ministrations, ignoring the frequent whimpers and grunts of the injured man,lying in front of you. He was strong, his body reacted very well to the deep wounds… Surprisingly well, you had indeed never imagined someone’s body could endure all of that pain while keeping the last brink of composure…the man in front of you was incredibly and otherworldly strong…every now and then your suspicious eyes flashed from him to the other man standing in your apartment, looking for some kind of hint to make sense of that unbelievable situation, but finding none.

"I think I got him through the night, for now…let's just hope no other complications will arise…" You finally announced with a soft smile after an hour of stitching skin and swabbing blood. You could finally wipe a stray drop of sweat trickling down your forehead and exhale deeply, releasing the breath you didn't realize you had been holding.

You looked up to the corner of the room, where the man in the suit had stood still all along, watching you closely and following your every movement from afar. In that moment your eyes locked once again and this time you felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins, as a subtle smirk appeared on the corner of his thin lips, framed by his even thinner mustache.

He was eyeing you down from head to toe once more, taking in your cozy yet revealing mise and smirking at how childish it might have seemed if compared to the entity of that night's events, the kind of events he was used to . He stared blatantly at the soft swell of your breasts, enhanced by the thin fabric of your top, his eyes subtly scanning the glimpse of your exposed legs from under your grey robe.

You stood there with your hands still covered in blood, feeling vulnerable under the cunning man's stare. No man had ever made you feel like this: so lectured yet so willing to be at his sharp eyes' mercy. You blushed slightly at his shamelessness and he quickly looked away, careful not to embarrass you further, yet looking completely unbothered by being caught stealing inappropriate glances at you. He appeared like a strong, self-confident man and his behavior matched his appearance perfectly.

"I guess we owe you a favor,doll… You've been a real blessing tonight". He finally spoke, daring to address you with that even more inappropriate pet name. You felt heat setting your cheeks on fire and you turned your back at him to hide your state, heading to the bathroom sink to wash the copious blood away from your hands.

To your great surprise, he followed you suit this time. He leaned against your bathroom door, silently studying the way your small, delicate, soapy hands slipped on each other under the water spray.. Before you could turn the water off,he moved into the bathroom and handed you the towel hanging above the sink.

"Such graceful hands shouldn't be covered in blood…especially...in this kind of blood" he murmured with an enigmatic expression.

"Please let me" without even waiting for your answer, he took your hands in his bigger ones through the towel, and started dabbing them with the soft fabric. His touch was gentle yet firm and you silently looked up at him, studying his peculiar features once again…

Aware of your gaze on him, he finally spoke: "My name's Shiu by the way, and he is Toji, a colleague of mine…but I can't tell you anything more… As you might have guessed already…" he continued with a heavy sigh "we are not… a good kind of people… I would say our business  is…unconventional at least… But enough about us now...Can I ask the name of this beautiful young woman, instead?" He finally looked up to you with a sly grin, catching you staring at him.

"Oh…my name's Y/N…" was all that you could say, too intimidated as you were by his presence. There was something in the way he looked at you that made your insides tremble…  you knew you should be cautious and keep your guard high, he was nothing but a stranger after all… On top of that, you were now sure he was involved in some kind of dirty, dangerous, almost certainly illegal business …but even in that precarious situation you still felt a magnetic pull towards him… 

He looked like no one you had met before: he was a mist of danger, adventure and mystery… and that mix had a way of making your knees weak right in that moment, as one of his strong, calloused hands was firmly holding your wrist through the fabric of the towel, the fingers of his other hand brushing across your wet palm, and indulging on your the insides of your fingers for a second longer than expected.

Sensing your soft shiver, he looked up from your intertwined hands and let his piercing eyes land on your slightly parted mouth, tracing the swelling plumpness of your bottom lip. He suddenly let go of your hands and hung the towel back in place. 

“Apologies for interrupting your…nighttime routine tonight…” he said with a deep, low chuckle. You chuckled along: "Nothing special actually…just a boring Monday evening...I guess I should be the one thanking you for... spicing things up..." You commented, finally finding the bravery to keep up with the conversation.

His cunning smirk appeared at the corner of his lips once again: “Finally... I was starting to fear cat got your tongue... Or maybe…" his tone lowered of an octave now "I imagined that our presence here got you all shy and embarassed... " He dared and teased you openly this time, grinning at your confused expression. 

“Not at all…" you cleared your throat to hide the effect his confident remark had on you, marvelling at how quickly he managed to get under your skin "I’m actually glad I could help…even if…” you had to bite your lip to prevent the flow of questions in your mind to escape your mouth “No questions allowed, right?” you sighed deeply, hoping that your newly found playfulness could lead the way to further revelations.

“No, doll…" he sighed deeply, the subtle spark of mischief suddenly dying in his eyes  "Trust me, it’s way better for you not to know the whole story…” 

You nodded, sensing that it was better not to push his bottons further, and you both headed back to the living room, where Toji was now sleeping soundly on your couch.

“His body is unbelievably strong…anyone else wouldn't have survived such wounds…but I guess this…is included in the things I cannot know, right?” 

Shiu sighed once again, taking out a pack of Marlboro Lights from his pocket: “ I like you doll, you are a quick learner…you know, it is surprisingly difficult to find people willing to accept you without asking further about your job these days” he chuckles, a bittersweet smile forming on the corner of his lips, framed by his signature thin mustache.

“Would you mind me smoking in here?” Shiu asked politely, his piercing eyes searching for consent in yours.

“Yeah..it’s totally fine for me…wait a sec…”. At your words, he pulled out a stray cigarette from the small pack and lit it while you stood up and headed to the kitchen, searching for the ashtray you spared for the Friday nights, when your smoker friends came over, and placing it on the table next to him. 

“Thank you” he murmured with a cigarette between his teeth and extended the pack to you in a gesture of offer “do you smoke,too?”

"No I don't, but thank you anyway…I am the only non-smoker in my friends group…" you stated, trying to engage in small talk while taking a seat next to him, your robe shifting slightly while you moved, revealing the soft flesh of your legs. 

Shiu stopped mid-puff, exhaling slowly as wisps of smoke curled lazily in the air cracking with a newly found tension around you. He regarded you with an unreadable expression, but you could read a certain turmoil brewing inside of him behind his mask of indifference.

" Your home is very…welcoming,y/n…it kinda matches your personality…"  he finally commented, before taking in another drag, visibly forcing himself to scan around your living room, instead of staring down at your thighs once again. You couldn't help but smirk slightly at his reaction. 

"My own home actually needs restyling,too…" he remarked absent-mindly "it grew colder and colder every passing day…and all of a sudden, I came home from work one night and felt like I said belong there anymore" he continued, stealing a subtle glance at you "Maybe it just needs a woman's touch…" he added while lost in his thoughts, his voice deep and hoarse from smoking, sending a jolt of surprise in your whole being. 

You chuckled in response, rubbing your tired eyes.

" Had a long day, haven't you doll? You look tired, you should get some sleep…I'll be here, watching  over Toji...Don't worry for us, we'll leave before the sun comes up.. You already did enough"

Sensing the hesitance in your eyes, he reassured you with an honest look on his face:"Listen…you can lock yourself in your room if you don't trust us…well…me,at least…Toji's way too numb tonight to care about a beautiful woman sleeping in the room next to him,anyway " he suggested chuckling hoarsely. "And as for me, I would never do you harm, especially after everything you did for us… deep down, I am still a gentleman…"

You felt your cheeks on fire at his blunt suggestion and you rushed your apologies "No…no… it's not that… I don't trust you…" you reassured him "it just…feels strange..the whole situation,I mean…"

" Don't be embarrassed. I didn't expect you would trust people like us, doll… and yet, you did" he whispered back at you, a flash of self- disdain in his slanting eyes. 

He took one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into the ashtray, exhaling slowly. You could sense he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, the weight of all of his secrets and regrets consuming him… but you could also see the good nature of his eyes, behind his cold demeanor.

"You seem like the kind of man who hasn't had a proper conversation with someone in a while…" you finally spoke, unafraid of consequences "What's weighing you down? If you want to, I'm all ears tonight, I wouldn't sleep anyway…not after... everything happened tonight" you smiled softly, trying to ease the tension.

"Oh doll, I don't wanna talk about my…troubles tonight…I feel like we've already put you through enough with our intrusion here…Anyways, yes… I can't deny I haven't actually talked to someone in a while... Usually it's just me and that giant sleepy baboon snoring on your couch... At least we have each other's back in the wreckages of our lives" he admitted curling his lips in a sad smirk. You nodded sympathetically at him with a warm and understanding gaze.

It was in that moment that the tension between you got heavier and heavier as seconds went by. He unexpectedly leaned forward to rest his warm, strong hand on your exposed knee. Your eyes locked for a moment, sending a shiver down both of  your spines. He stared at your full lips and leaned slightly towards them, letting his signature scent of cigarettes and woody cologne invade your senses. A silent exchange of common, forbidden unexpected intents flashed between you two. You surprised yourself feeling your heart drumming in anticipation but tried to play it cool.

Then, all of a sudden, the mood in his eyes changed and he forced himself to look away.

"Go get some deserved sleep, doll. Goodnight" he finally stated, announcing the end of your intimate conversation. He sighed deeply while retreating his hand and leaning back slightly into his seat. His eyes searched for yours once again, in a silent plea for forgiveness for crossing boundaries.

You stood up reluctantly and headed to your room, mentally kicking yourself for letting a heated moment like that happen between you and a complete, and potentially dangerous, stranger.

"Goodnight, Shiu…don't hesitate to wake me if anything…" unable to complete the sentence, your eyes landed on Toji's asleep figure, hinting at possible unlucky complications of his delicate state.

"I will…thank you…you're too good to people like us" he commented right before you closed your door, staring deep into each other's eyes through the crack of the door until it closed shut.

…

You passed that night tossing in your sheets, nervousness and curiosity stealing the sleep out of your tired body. You found yourself listening attentively as you heard footsteps approaching your corridor, stopping right before your bedroom door. You couldn't deny the spark of attraction that had litten between you and Shiu that night, even in the midst of chaos. But you soon shook off that twisted idea, still acknowledging his respectful behavior towards you and your boundaries. You grew restless by the hour and ended up collapsing in a deep, dreamless sleep right before the first signs of dawn could break into your room. 

You woke up after barely an hour of sleep, your tired, heavy eyelids opened slowly to take in the first morning light. You checked your phone and noticed the hour: you rushed out of bed as you realized you fell asleep and had probably missed their departure.

Putting your robe back on, you slammed your bedroom door open and broke into the living room, only to find an empty couch and everything you had scattered across the room in the previous night's chaos now back into place, as if the events you clearly recalled had just been the product of your nightly dreaming.

You sighed and collapsed on the couch, feeling an inexplicable sense of loss: indeed, you felt like missing out , letting a chance on something you couldn't even express in thoughts escape right throat your fingers… you inhaled deeply, trying to calm your racing mind, but as you did, your nostrils took in the lingering scent of his cologne, mixed with the acre one of his extinguished cigarettes, now laying abandoned in the ashtrail on your table. You shoot a look at it, thankful for that silent presence, witnessing the tangibility of the previous night's encounter. 

You couldn't help feeling a hint of sadness taking hold of you, while you stared at the room around you. It was as if the stranger who instantly caught your attention was still there with you, his presence floating in the air surrounding you.

You shook your head and got up from the couch, ready to start a new day and leaving behind the thought of him and what could have happened that night.

…

During the following days you focused on moving on with your life, getting back to your usual routine: you woke up early for work and came back at sunset, you enjoyed your nights out with your friends, and visited your family on Sundays. You would never admit it to yourself, but something has changed inside of you: even if you tried to avoid it, you couldn't prevent your mind from shifting back to that fateful night every now and then. Deep down, you hoped you would have the chance to see them once again, to understand what those invisible beings really were, but you knew it was all useless at that point.

Little did you know that the lingering memories of that night would have come back for more, reclaiming a special place and attention in the midst of your monotonous life…

My 🔥JJK MATERIALIST🔥here!

Thank you if you've arrived this far!

PART 2 HERE !

[traveler-at-heart]

What we were

Summary: After losing Clint, your marriage and family begins to fall apart. Will Natasha be able to go back to what you once were?

A/N: This is going to be four chapters, but most of it is written. It’s a mix of angst, hurt and comfort. Obvious warning, there’s a major character death. Natasha and R have a daughter.

Time was unforgiving.

It had been six months since you lost Clint. Two since you asked Natasha to move out.

Four hours of sleep was the most you could get each night. 

Time heals everything, people say.

Then, how come, the more time passed, the worse you felt?

Thoughts like these invade your mind, even when doing the most mundane of tasks. Like now, when you’re waiting for your daughter’s school day to be over. Leaning over your black Mercedes, you wish that your injured leg could be less of a bother and instead of driving, you could walk to pick up Anya and get distracted by the sights of the city.

The school bell rings and the quiet classrooms are full of murmurs, books stored away and steps walking -some rushing eagerly- to the exit.

Impossible to miss, Anya’s red waves are the first thing you spot. Raising a hand, she says goodbye to her friends and walks your way. 

“Hi, darling” you sigh against her head. 

She’s getting taller and maybe next year she won’t let you hug her. Maybe she’ll even want to take the bus while you anxiously wait for her return home. But now, she’s still a sweet child and she still lets you run your hands through her hair. 

“How was Debate Club?” it’s the first thing you ask, because she’d been preparing relentlessly to beat the other team. 

“We won, obviously”

“We should celebrate” a voice joins the conversation. You’re so startled that you drop the car keys.

“Mom!” Anya says, wrapping her arms around Natasha.

It makes you happy that she’s not resentful even after everything that happened. That she can love so unconditionally.

She didn’t get that from you.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt” Natasha apologizes, finally looking at you. There’s a weak smile on your face, what else can you do? “I was thinking we could go shopping for that new game you wanted?”

“Can we please, Momma?” Anya turns to you.

“Sure. Have fun. But don’t spoil your appetite. We’re having lasagna” 

“Mom, our favorite” Anya nudges the Russian and you look away.

“I’ll have her home by 6” Natasha saves you the embarrassment of being forced to invite her.

“Have fun” you wave goodbye, heart beating fast.

Breaking the speed limit, you rush home. But the tears start running long before you’re parked.

You look at your sad reflection in the rearview mirror.

Natasha looks better than the last time you saw each other.

Maybe all she needed was to be away from you, to be happy again.

--

Two glasses of wine later, you’re curled up on the sofa watching your favorite comfort show and feeling better. 

“What’s up, Buck?” you answer at the second ring of your phone. 

“Are you ok?”

You look at the half empty glass of wine and decide that no, you’re most definitely not ok.

“Sure, why you ask?”

“I just saw her driving with Anya” 

“Mhm” you look at the clock. 5:55 PM. She’s trying to be a responsible parent, at least. “Yeah, she showed up at school today. It’s good that they spent time together”

“Want me to come over?”

“No, I don’t want you two fighting in my front yard. Thanks, though”

“I���ll stop by tomorrow, ok? And if you feel like it, we can go to that Broadway show on Saturday. I got us tickets”

“Thanks, Buck” 

“Ok, she’s parking outside now”

“You followed them all the way here?” you jump out of the couch, looking out the window.

“What? I was worried!” 

“Sometimes I think it’s not so great that you live a few blocks away, you weirdo”

“But then I bring coffee and scones and you change your mind” 

“Yeap”

“See ya, doll”

“Bye, creep”

“Oh, come on!”

You let out a laugh at his protest. Wanda and Yelena have been texting you, so you scroll, smiling at the silly pictures of Fanny or the videos of Tommy and Billy doing their crazy science experiments. 

“Hi, Ma” Anya rushes past you. “Gonna change for dinner”

“Mmkay” you nod, texting Bucky to make sure he’s actually back home, and not slashing Natasha’s tires. 

“So…” 

“Nat, jeez” you drop the phone, not even aware that she is still here. She looks at you across the kitchen island. 

Don’t think how sad it is that she looks out of place here, where it used to be home.

Don’t cry in front of her.

Don’t.

“Sorry, I’ll say goodbye and leave” 

“Anya, your mom’s leaving” you busy yourself in the kitchen, looking away.

“So soon?” the girl peeks around, pouting. “We haven’t even played the game yet”

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” you give up, unable to say no to your daughter. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m always making extra anyways”

Because you were used to cooking dinner for three. 

Anya is happy to set the table, but you sit next to your daughter, leaving Natasha in front of her. You try to stay focused on Anya and school: the debate club, sports activities, a month in Europe for the best students. 

“Mom, do you think I can reach out to aunt Carol? I have some Astronomy questions”

Natasha immediately looks at you, but you’re hyper focused on the bottle of wine and pouring the last of it until your glass is filled to the rim.

“Uh, she’s not... I’m not sure where Danvers is, sweetheart. She left Earth a while back” 

“Oh, ok” the girl nods, looking at you with a frown. “Mom, what’s wrong? Is your leg hurting? What did Doctor Cho say?”

Crap.

“What’s wrong, det…?” Natasha asks, looking at you. The pet name almost rolled off her tongue.

Everything. Everything is wrong, Natasha. 

“That old injury from our outlaw days. Doctor Cho gave me some pain killers. But I don’t think I’ll take them, they make me too sleepy”

“We’ll do the dishes” Natasha jumps in. “Don’t worry about it” 

“Thanks”

The dishes are the least of your worries, but it’s still a nice gesture.

Maybe when she’s finally ready to ask you to divorce her, you’ll be able to coparent. 

“Here, let me” she asks as you approach with the empty glass of wine. “Did Doctor Cho say anything else?”

You sigh, leaning against the counter, watching as she washes the dishes.

“She said surgery might make the pain go away. Actually, there’s a 90% chance it will work. But Anya’s got school and I’d have to do bed rest for at least five weeks. Maybe during winter break” 

“I can take care of her. Drive her to school or cook dinner or…”

“You’re a terrible cook” you remind her. It’s meant to be a joke, but also a way to make her stop.

You don’t want to be a burden for someone who doesn’t want you anymore.

“Wanda could teach me” 

“She’s too busy making sure the twins aren’t building a nuclear weapon in the garage” 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks, almost afraid of your answer.

“Can you take her to school tomorrow?” you finally say, without providing further details.

The truth is, you’ll probably cry until you fall asleep, because you miss Natasha and this is the first time you’ve seen her in two months. 

And it would be better if you could sleep in, make an appointment with your therapist and then find a way to look composed by the time you have to pick your daughter from school. 

“Absolutely” 

“Thank you” 

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N” 

The way she says your name makes you want to scream. 

--

Natasha’s long gone, Anya sleeping peacefully back in her room.

You’re looking at the ceiling, tears rolling down your face and soaking your pillow.

You miss her so damn much. You love her so much.

And you also hate her. And you hate yourself for loving her.

There’s a soft knock at your door. You know it’s not Anya because she would have turned on the hallway light.

“Hey, weirdo” you look at Bucky from across the room, smiling sadly. He approaches you and wraps you in his arms. You sob against his chest, feeling like the sadness will last forever.

“I’m sorry”

“It’s ok. Let it all out. I’m here”

You don’t know when you fall asleep.

--

A lot has changed in such a short time, but by now, Anya is used to the sight of her uncle Bucky, rotating between the few breakfast foods he can make without burning everything.

“You read my mind” Anya watches as he makes blueberry pancakes.

“Has no one ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?” he mumbles, impressed at how silent she was.

“No, because my moms are spies and so is my uncle and my other aunt and basically half my family”

“Smart ass,” he chuckles. “Come on, eat your food before it gets cold”

“Did mom eat anything yet?” Anya sits on a stool, eating on the kitchen counter.

“Your mom’s asleep” Bucky says. In fact, you cried, had a panic attack, a couple of nightmares, woke up to drink some water and then fell asleep at 4 AM. 

Basically, the usual for the past two months.

He’s so caught in his thoughts that he forgets to flip the last pancake. A knock on the front door snaps him back to reality.

“Can you turn off the stove? And pack your bag, we’re leaving in five…” Bucky yells over, opening the door without looking through the peephole first. He’s surprised to find Natasha on the other side “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to pick up my daughter” 

“Does Y/N know?” He's holding on to the door so hard that the wood cracks.

“She asked me to drive Anya to school”

“Ok, I’m ready” Anya announces, aware that her mother and uncle aren’t on the best terms. She walks between them to make sure they won’t punch each other. “Bye, uncle, thanks for breakfast” 

“Have a good day, sweetheart. See you Saturday”

“Right, for that musical, Beaglejuice”

“Shut up” he chuckles, kissing her forehead. Anya leans forward and hugs him goodbye.

Natasha is silent for most of the ride. Anya is looking out the window, uncertain of her mother’s mood. Maybe not saying anything is safer.

Three blocks away from school and Natasha hears herself blurting out what’s been on her mind this whole time.

“Does Barnes stay over a lot?”

“I guess” Anya mutters, still looking out the window.

“Well, do you know…”

The girl has enough, turning around to face her mother. There’s nothing but resentment in her eyes as she tells Natasha everything.

“Mom cries herself to sleep every night. Ever since you moved out, it's been hard for her to get up in the morning and act normal, let alone cook breakfast. So yeah, uncle Bucky is around all the time, just to make sure she’s at the very least alive. You’d know if you still cared about us” 

“Anya…”

“I’ll walk the rest of the way, thanks for the ride” she mumbles, opening the door and rushing away. Natasha is stuck in traffic, so all she can do is watch her daughter from the car.

Just when she was starting to make things right, she fucks up again.

--

“Thanks for breakfast” you say, mouth full of pancakes.

“More like lunch” Bucky corrects.

You nod, reaching for the maple syrup. 

“So, why’d you ask Natasha to drive Anya to school?” 

“Is that why my door is almost broken in half?” 

“I’ll fix it”

“You better” you mumble. He is still staring and you shrug your shoulders. “Just experimenting how co-parenting is gonna be when we officially divorce”

“So, you are asking her to divorce you?” 

“She’s gonna ask me. Sooner or later” you keep your head down, playing with your food. You’re not hungry anymore.

“All things considered, the ball is in your court”

“Buck” you plead, dropping the fork.

“I’m just saying” he approaches your side. “You’ll only be able to heal once you know what you both want. But running away won’t help”

“You sound like my therapist”

“But does she cook you breakfast?”

“For what she’s charging me, she should, actually” both of you laugh. And damn it, you know he’s right. “Thank you, for worrying about me. And for taking care of us these past few months. I’m sorry I’m such a mess”

As if on cue, tears start streaming down your face. Bucky hugs you, kissing your head.

“It’s ok”

“I know you hate it when people cry, I’m sorry” 

“Yeah, but I hate it a little bit more when you’re the one crying”

--

Luckily for your therapist, you’re all cried out by the time you reach her office. Instead, you discuss how it would be better to approach Natasha, who has always struggled with communication around difficult topics.

“I’m very happy with this session. We’ve made great progress” Doctor Thompson says and you put your fist forward.

“Fist bump” you encourage her.

“I’ll get my license taken away if we ever do this again” 

For the first time in months, you leave her office feeling a little bit lighter. 

Until you check your phone. 10 missed calls from Natasha.

“Nat?” you answer as she calls again.

“Is Anya with you?”

“I was about to pick her up from school” there’s a pause. “You did drive her to school, right?”

“Of course, I’m not an idiot” she shoots back.

“Well, I’m very confused because she’s only about to end her last class. Why would she be anywhere else, then?” you retort.

“Just meet me back home, ok?” she pleads.

“Fine”

She’s pacing on the sidewalk as you park.

“Care to explain?”

“The school called me an hour ago. She sneaked out after recess” 

“Let’s just track her phone” 

“It’s off”

“Well, fuck” you run your hand through your hair. “Did she say anything to you this morning? Did she seem upset?”

Natasha looks away, chewing on her bottom lip.

“I asked her if Barnes was staying over often”

“Natasha, for fuck’s sake” you sigh, turning away from her. 

Don’t shout. You won’t solve anything by screaming at Natasha.

Your daughter is missing because your wife can’t keep her jealousy to herself. So fuck it.

“If you want to know anything, you ask me, Natasha, do you understand? You don’t go questioning our 13 year old daughter, who, by the way, has been through enough shit lately. I’m trying to protect her and you’re here implying I’m sleeping with the only friend who isn’t tired of me being a mess. Which, for the record, I’m not. And would never. Unlike you, I’m not going around fucking people outside my marriage because I’m having a hard time”

“I don’t know how to get close to you, Y/N. You pushed me out ever since…”

“No! You don’t get to put this on me. I tried for months. I tried everything. And you scoffed and ignored and stood me up. I gave up the moment I found you in bed with Carol” 

Your voice breaks at the last part. That memory has been buried for so long; you want it to stay hidden, forever. 

It doesn’t matter. You need to find Anya.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling Buck” 

“I’m here. I’ll help you find her” 

“I’ll find my daughter alone, thank you” you walk past her, waiting impatiently for your friend to pick up.

“She’s my daughter too”

“You sure as hell haven’t acted like her mother in a long time, Natalia” 

You walk away, your back turned to her. 

“Buck” you say, voice trembling.

“I know. She’s at the Met. Hasn’t left. I’m outside, just in case”

“How did you…?” 

“I’m sorry. I was hoping I could convince her to come back before you found out she sneaked out of class”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can” 

--

Again, those soft waves of red are the first thing you spot in the room. Her blue eyes are fixed on Degas and his Dance Class.

“Hey, kiddo” you stand next to her, understanding immediately why she’s looking at this painting. “We still have your ballerina shoes somewhere in a box. Your mom loved going to your recitals” 

“I’m sorry for leaving school” 

“I played hooky a couple of times. It’s part of life. I just want to make sure you’re ok” 

“She doesn’t care if you’re able to get up in the morning but gets jealous because someone is taking care of us” 

You sigh. Anya has Natasha’s heart, after all. She loves and protects fiercely.

“That’s not exactly true. Come with me” your daughter takes your hand as you leave the museum. 

Central Park is still looking beautiful, even as fall approaches. Anya plops down on a bench and you take a seat next to her. A small groan leaves your lips. This damn leg.

“You know your mother was raised to be an assassin. The Red Room taught her that love was a weakness. And that she was incapable of having a family or people that cared about her. Even after all these years, insecurity can get the best of Nat sometimes”

“Why can’t we just… go back to what we used to be?” she mumbles, a tear rolling down her face.

“Oh, sweetheart” you hold her against your chest. “I want nothing more in this world” 

“I miss her”

“Me too, Anya”

“It’s like we lost her the day uncle Clint died” she sobs.

“But she’s still here. And she still needs you, my sweet girl. I’m not saying you should forgive her right this second. But don’t build a wall around yourself, please”

“Ok” 

“You know I lost my mom when I was 15. And a lot of that time I spent it angry at her for staying with a man that wasn’t good to us. But once she was gone, all I wished was that I had made her life a little easier”

“I’m sorry” 

“It’s ok. I’m glad I’m here, to make sure you don’t make the same mistake I did. We’re gonna be alright, I promise” 

“I love you”

“Love you too, kiddo” you keep her in your arms for as long as you can, but a light rain begins to fall. “Come on, now. Bucky’s been waiting for us”

“I know. I saw him following me on the bus here”

“My God, I don’t know which one of you is scarier” 

Anya giggles, and you take her hand. 

Even between all of this mess, she’s the one thing that makes everything worth it. 

--

Anya was the one that texted her mother, apologizing and letting her know she was ok.

You didn’t reply to Natasha’s text. “I’m sorry” isn’t enough sometimes.

After pizza and an intense game of Jenga with Anya and Bucky, you call it a night.

You know what you’ll dream of tonight, but you’re too tired to care.

[cynarisgayass]

Hi, hopefully this looks ok I haven't done a request b4 lol. I was wondering if you could do Billy Kid and Lycaon (I'm not sure if you write Lycaon or not so idm if you don't want to) reacting to a severely injured reader <3

𓍊𓋼~Rescue me~𓋼𓍊

Type: Oneshot

Description: Your request looks perfect dw! But, I've never written for Lycaon before and haven't gotten to know his character yet so I did leave him out...I plan on posting more with him once I've learned more about him though!

Rating: Mature/ slightly angsty

Reader: GN, injured

Warning: slight gore

Featuring: Billy kid

Billy kid:

You tilted your head back, the stone walls behind you being the only support for your weakening body. You could feel warmth staining your clothes and you knew full well it was your own blood. Yet you couldn't feel a thing...that was the scariest part, you were entirely numb and slightly dizzy.

"Hey! Don't die on me okay! I got ya, just give me one sec!"

"Billy..." You slowly glanced in his direction, he was still fighting off ethereals, guns blasting every which way and his body zig zagging around to avoid getting hit himself, only now he seemed worried. He kept looking at you, panic already settling in as he processed the best way to help you.

"Oh carp...gotta go! Just hang on alright!" He hurried towards you, dodging attacks before easily scooping you up in his arms and carrying you as fast as he could to the exit.

You felt you consciousness slipping away, you were gonna pass out soon and not know if you'd ever wake up...it was a terrifying thought, but having someone with you made it...a little easier. Just a little. "...Billy.."

"It's gonna be okay, just stay awake and keep looking at me right. If you stay awake till we are out of the hollows I'll buy you all the ramen you can eat. Just stay awake." You felt his hold on you tighten...he was really starting to get scared.

"Thank you...for everything Billy." You gave him a weak smile as your eyelids grew heavier and your heart started to slow.

"Woah woah, didn't I say don't die?!?" He slid into the nearest building and gently set you on the ground. "Stay strong okay, we are almost out of here I know it....just...just stay with me okay?" He softly touched your cheek, his worst fears growing realer with every drop of crimson blood you lost.

"Just stay awake, I have you. I'll get you out of here."

P.s, reader lives. Cause I can

[in1-nutshell]

Hi I love your work how would the tfp bots react to meeting a bot that has the personality of wendsday Addams

Wednesday Addams is a good character to put into Buddy. This was fun to write and think about. Here are the Autobots reaction to Wednsday Bot Buddy!

Hope you enjoy!

Autobots reacting to Bot Buddy with the personality of Wendsday Addams

SFW, platonic, slight dark themes mainly on general themes of murder and dark humor, Nothing graphic just mentions here and there, Cybertronian/ Bot reader

TFP

Optimus Prime

*Looks at dead Vehicon* “Lucky bot.”

*Concern truck noises*

Optimus is a bit concerned about the dark nature of Buddy.

He doesn’t question their allegiance. He knows that Buddy is a loyal Autobot through and through. If they wanted to be a Decepticon they would have already done it, but they haven’t. Being able strategist, Buddy truly helps when planning attacks accordingly.

They just have a peculiar taste in humor and in personality.

Optimus won’t interfere with Buddy and their passions… unless he deems it necessary.

They are just another one of his children with a different hobby than the rest.

Ratchet

“I’m fine Doctor. They only hit a major fuel line. I’ve only entered the first stage of paralyzes, it’s quite pleasant.”

“I’m sorry WHAT WAS HIT!?”

He is a bit wary of Buddy. It’s mainly their view on murder.

He doesn’t mind the dark humor or the occasional weird vibe they give off. They help Ratchet around in the lab and in any experiments since Buddy has a natural talent for science. Though he does get a bit annoyed whenever they bring up the supernatural around him.

Buddy is a regular patient in the medbay due to the fact that they downplay their injuries so much that sometimes he doesn’t even know if they get injured on purpose.

He has to physically check Buddy for any injuries whenever they leave the base. It’s a rule now, not even Optimus can stop him now.

Bumblebee

*Pointing blaster to a Vehicon* “No one gets to torment my family except for me.”

“Beeeep. Bep beep? (Aww you do care—wait what?)”

He looks up to Buddy in a way. Buddy is the oldest of the youngest group on the team. Meaning they are older than Smokescreen by default, older than Bee. Even though the three of them came from the same generation, Buddy is the older sibling.

He can tell the war did a number to Buddy over the eons, but Buddy also always had a peculiar personality that set them apart from everyone else.

He is glad that Raf has taken a liking to Buddy and vice versa. Whenever he is too busy to pick up Raf from school, he can count on Buddy to go and pick him up safe and sound.

He knows that Buddy means well in the end… its just the lengths they are willing to go and the lines they are willing to cross to do it makes him uneasy. Bumblebee knows that he can trust Buddy with his life and will do it without a second thought.

Arcee

“Time to go spider hunting.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

She doesn’t mind Buddy as a whole.

Yes, their personality isn’t something that everyone sees and associates with Autobot, but they mean well.

She is willing to defend Buddy for that.

She does get worried about Buddy when they go out into battle. She is mainly worried that one day she or one of her teammates would accidentally hit Buddy since their frame has Con written all over it.

She trusts Buddy with Jack whenever she isn’t available. At first Jack isn’t too thrilled at the idea of being with this bot that looks like they would murder him if they ever got bored. But he gets over that initial fear after a bit of one-on-one time with Buddy. Arcee is happy for both.

The sass battles between these two can get heated and brings the team to becoming the audience.

Arcee tried a dark humor battle with Buddy. It happened only once because Arcee soon realized that Buddy had a bottomless pit full of this humor. There was no way she was going to win.

Bulkhead

“Nice knife you got there. That would be absolutely great in playing autopsy.”

“Playing What!?”

Oh yeah Buddy does not put him at ease at all. Sure, as a Wrecker he too dabbles in dark humor, but Buddy is on a whole new level of dark humor.

He would hate to see what would happen if Buddy turned to the Cons side. But time and time again, he is proven wrong about them ever defecting. Especially when Buddy has a huge sift spot for the kids, Miko begins the biggest.

Miko absolutely adores this bot. She has asked Bulkhead if he cannot pick her up or Wheeljack to let Buddy pick them up.

Buddy has been named her unofficial official “Sibling from another planet”.

Buddy doesn’t seem to mind so he is fine about that. He does get a bit uneasy about the lengths they are willing to go to fulfill a plan, but other than that he is fine with them.

Wheeljack

“You okay there, kid? You look half dead.”

“I’m always half dead Wheeljack.”

Oh yeah finally someone who can get some of his humor.

He dabbles a bit more in the dark humor than most other bots on the team, still nowhere near Buddy’s level but he can appreciate their artform.

He will defend Buddy against anyone who says that they should be in the Autobot ranks because of their personality. Not everyone is perfect, and they have a choice on which side they want to fight, and they have always chosen the Autobots even when things seem hopeless.

Wheeljack has worked with Buddy in making his famous homemade grenades. Buddy is one of the few bots he will allow to fly the Jackhammer by themselves.

While he isn’t around the base too often, he always finds it funny to have Buddy sneak up on him by accident. Not many can do that, so he finds it funny.

Smokescreen

“Have you tried doing another paint job that isn’t Black? You know, bright that color scheme a bit.”

“When they have a shade darker than black let me know.”

Smokescreen looks at Buddy with admiration and fear.

On one hand, he knows that he could jump off the Nemesis blindly with Buddy and Buddy would somehow save them both while still doing their jokes midair.

On the other hand

He isn’t a fan of their dark humor or dark personality. It reminds him too much of the Cons. The first time that he met Buddy, he nearly shot them thinking they were a Con. There was an apology afterwards.

He does not question Buddy’s side in the war for a second. Sure, they look like they could end his life with a spoon, but they haven’t and that proves the point.

Ultra Magnus

“How is the investigation coming along soldier?”

“There are so many threads in this investigation I’d have enough to weave my burial shroud and Bumblebee’s.”

“What?”

“BEEEP! (WHAT!?)”

Not a fan of their personality.

He would have put them on the same list of non-compliant soldiers as Wheeljack. But despite a few bumps here and there, Buddy is a true Autobot and lives by the code, to a point.

They are actually one of the few Autobots that have managed to follow must his plans. And has some respect for authoritative figures.

Or that might be just him and Optimus. He respects them that much. Not a fan of dark humor or personality, mainly because it isn’t his taste in humor.

[hisui-dreamer]

our twisted threads of fate

Pairing: Jamil Viper x gn!reader

Synopsis: When you finally meet your soulmate in Twisted Wonderland, you realise the bond is only one sided. He's your soulmate, but to him, you're just someone from another world.

Tags: soulmate au, pining, crushes, friends to lovers, canon divergence, spoilers for Ch2 and up, reader has a soulmate mark and cooks, bot proofread

Word count: 3.3k+

Notes: Wrote this fic in one night and it's basically my love letter to Jamil's character oop. This is Day 20 of the 30-day April event held by @twistedchatterboxed. So glad to be taking part in this event <3 Make sure to check out everyone's work too!

Masterlist

"So? Why are you asking about my accident?"

The moment the words left his lips, you could feel a strange feeling course through your veins. A warm, tingly sensation could be felt on your collarbone, as no doubt the words written there were reacting to the presence of the man sitting before you.

It had been terribly exhausting adapting to Twisted Wonderland, given how chaotic your new friends were and how incredibly run-down Ramshackle Dorm was. Not only were you now expected, to keep up with the curriculum of NRC, but also be the headmaster's errand-runner. Which brings you back to the current conversation.

After the numerous accidents that had befallen several promising players for the upcoming Spelldrive tournament, the headmaster requested, no, ordered you to investigate the suspicious circumstances. So here you are, after having investigated several students who had gotten injured, standing in the cafeteria with your friends, asking the second-year student what exactly happened during the incident in the kitchen.

What you didn't expect, however, was to find out that Jamil Viper, the person who got injured in said incident, was your soulmate.

Another joke fate played on you, was that soulmates didn't exist in Twisted Wonderland. They were nothing more than a trope in fiction, poetic devices used to dramatise romances. But for you and your world, finding your soulmate is something so tremendously precious, it's considered the best thing that could happen to someone. Most people had "hello" or "hey" written as their mark, you were fortunate that your mark was something so identifiable.

'So? Why are you asking about my accident?'

You had always hoped to find your soulmate, the one who would be your other half, only you didn't expect the bond to be one-sided.

You took a deep breath and try to compose yourself before meeting his charcoal eyes. "We're here at the headmage's behest."

Jamil hummed, crossing his arms and contemplating. "The headmage?" he mumbled quietly. "Huh... Well okay."

He continued recounting the events of the previous night, while Kalim interjected occasionally, eager to join the conversation. But you found yourself lost in Jamil's voice, smooth like honey, flowing with a baritone richness that sent shivers down your spine. His eyes, sharp and glinting with intensity when he was deep in thought, held your attention like a mesmerizing spell. The way his dark hair fell neatly, framing the right side of his face, added to his undeniable allure.

The thrumming sensation on your collarbone persisted, as if your soulmate mark was screaming at you to take action. And you wanted to. You wanted to tell him, tell him how much he means to you, but you knew that he wouldn't be able to understand or reciprocate.

"Because we're not talking about me here!" You're broken out of your trance as Jamil exclaimed, flustered by Kalim's words. From there, your focus is back on the new clue Jamil has given you, and with an inkling of who the culprit might be, you left the cafeteria with the group in search of a certain hyena.

Days turned into weeks as you got wrapped up in the shenanigans of one dorm after another. It was frustrating and draining, and it didn't help that you were also trying to balance everything while getting used to the strange land.

Having found yourself growing increasingly conscious of your spending habits, given Crowley’s tight budget for Ramshackle, you decided to start cooking dinner for yourself and Grim in the cafeteria kitchen. Crowley had graciously given you permission to use the school kitchen after you made very valid points about how unusable the Ramshackle kitchen was, while making you promise to keep your gremlin cat out of the kitchen for safety. And with Sam generously giving you discounts on groceries knowing your situation, you found yourself frequenting the kitchen. It was rather calming and helped you unwind after a stressful day.

It also helps that your soulmate also frequented the kitchen.

It all came as a shock when you discovered that he was personally in charge of preparing each meal for Kalim and testing for poison. It seemed so bizarre, so different from what you were used to. You had known that he was Kalim’s caretaker since they were children, but you couldn't fathom how he managed to handle everything as a student, let alone when he was younger. But like everything else in Twisted Wonderland, you learned to accept it. This wasn’t a fantasy novel where characters had tragic backstories for the sake of character development; this was their real life, and you couldn’t just impose your values on them.

Still, you can’t deny that Jamil working in the kitchen is a delightful sight. He moves with precision and grace, like it’s a dance he’s practised a thousand times before. You can see the passion in his eyes as he creates his culinary masterpieces. He takes pride in every dish he makes, and it shows in the way he carefully plates each one. You can tell that he's been doing this for a long time, and he's become quite skilled at it.

As he finishes up his dish, he offers you a taste, and it's impossible to not be impressed by the explosion of flavours in your mouth. You compliment him on his cooking skills, and he smiles, seeming genuinely pleased by your words. In return, you often let him taste your creations as well, and as you started exchanging compliments and criticisms with each other, a gentle friendship between the two of you started to form.

You’re not sure if it��s from the soulmate bond or your personal interest in him, but undeniably, you find yourself eagerly soaking up every piece of information you could find on Jamil like a parched sponge absorbing water after a long drought.

Every little bit of him makes your heart soar, like how despite his reserved demeanour, there's a quiet confidence about him that's hard to miss, how he handles unexpected situations with ease, or the glimpses of a mischievous glint in his eye when he thinks no one is looking, but you notice it easily because your attention is on him invariably. You adore how naturally he shows his care for others, including you: the tender hand he places on shelves or tables to prevent you from hitting your head when you get up, the kind cautionary warnings he gives you when you’re using a knife or cooking, his soothing touch full of patience as he takes care of your injuries when you’ve gotten too distracted by him.

Your heart yearns to see more of him, to learn every single thing about him.

You are deeply in love with him.

But the gravity of your soulmate bond wasn’t something you could tell him. You don't want to pressure him into feeling a certain way or risk changing the dynamic of your relationship, especially with his already long list of worries. So, you decide to simply keep it to yourself, content with the friendship the two of you currently have.

Jamil Viper found that fate was incredibly unfair.

Being born into a family of servitude, it was a necessary skill to be able to blend in with the crowd. While there had been many times when Jamil wished he could break free from the mould and show his true potential, it was ingrained in him to never outdo Kalim and to constantly keep his family's position in mind. He was used to living in the shadows, never drawing attention to himself.

So, when someone from another world began to show an overwhelming amount of interest in him, Jamil was taken aback.

Things started to change when he started cooking in the cafeteria kitchen with you. He had enjoyed taking his time and working without interruptions in the kitchen; it was a rare moment when he could be alone with his thoughts. And while that changed when you started showing up in the cafeteria kitchen more often, Jamil also found himself enjoying the small talk and banter that would occasionally happen between the two of you while cooking. He had been startled when you started talking to him and asking him questions about his life, but you seemed genuinely interested in getting to know him. It was a new feeling for him, and he didn't quite know how to respond.

He notices how you would watch him intently as he cooked, pleasantly surprised by your apparent admiration for his culinary skills. Your praises gave him the feeling that his efforts were truly acknowledged. He even found himself looking forward to the times when you would show up, excited to see what new recipes he could whip up with your assistance.

But what surprises him the most was that your attention is always on him. Even when other people are around, you seem to be looking at him, and it makes him feel seen in a way he never had before. He doesn't know why you were so interested in him, why you seem to support him no matter what, there to offer a kind word or a helping hand reassuringly. Without a doubt, he is grateful for your presence, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to your kindness than met the eye.

You are different from anyone else he has ever met. Coming from a different world, you don't care about his family's position or his connection to the Asim heir. You see him for who he is, and that makes him feel seen and appreciated.

Your attention had made him uncomfortable in the beginning, but now he can't deny that he likes it. He likes being noticed by you, being acknowledged, and appreciated for who he is.

It's not until one day that the truth hits him like a basketball to the face.

He's in love with you.

He yearns to spend the rest of his days making you happy, to create a future with you that was filled with love and warmth. He envisions days spent cooking together, the aroma of spices and flavours melding in the air as you laugh and savour each other's company. He finds himself craving your presence like a parched wanderer in a desert that craves water. He wants to hold your hand, to wrap his arms around you, to claim you as his own in a way that was both tender and possessive. His love for you has bloomed into a magnificent wildflower, bursting with vibrant colours and life, but also carrying a touch of greed. Like a protective vine, he curls around you, unwilling to let anyone come too close, fearing you'd wither in their presence.

He wants you to be his, desperately so.

But as much as he wants to express his feelings, he knew that it wasn’t the right time. The friendship that had blossomed between you two was something too precious; he didn't dare jeopardise his bond with the one person who made him feel like he mattered.

And so he keeps his feelings to himself and continued to come to the kitchen every day, cooking and chatting with you, content to just be near you, helping and caring for you in whatever way he could. Helping you wash the dishes, learning your favourite foods so he could make them for you, getting extra ingredients for you, he puts his mindfulness to full use when it comes to you. He cherishes the precious and fleeting moments you spend together, fearing the day you leave and go back to your original world.

One night, you walked into the kitchen looking troubled and lost in thought. Jamil couldn't help but notice something was amiss. You didn't even acknowledge his presence as you went straight to the fridge to grab some ingredients for cooking. Concerned, he speaks up. "Is everything okay?" he asks, "You look a bit troubled, is something bothering you today?"

You let out a heavy sigh and turned to face him. "Not really. I just couldn't fall asleep last night, so I'm a bit sleep deprived," you replied.

Jamil nodded in understanding. "I see. Hmm… I can brew tea that can help improve sleep quality. Would you like to try some?" he offered.

"Are you sure? I know you're very busy," you said, not wanting to be another burden on him.

A wry smile appeared on his face as he walked closer to you. "You're too considerate," he said as he playfully poked your forehead. "I have plenty of time to brew tea, so don't worry about it." He smiled as he started boiling water. "By the way, if you don't mind me asking, what’s on your mind? It’s unlike you to lose sleep unless something's bothering you."

You hesitated, knowing full well that he was what had kept you awake last night. While you wanted to be content with your current friendship, you suppose it was in your nature, given the soulmate bond, to be incredibly greedy. It was selfish of you to hope, but you yearned to be bonded to him like lovers were. "Well, it's a long story," you eventually answered.

"I don't mind listening. You can tell the story while I'm making the tea," he replied nonchalantly. "Just tell me whatever you’re comfortable with sharing."

Well, here goes nothing.

"Uhm... To start, have you ever heard of soulmates?"

Jamil thought for a bit before nodding. "I've heard of them, yes," he answered as he poured hot water into a teapot. "It's where two people are 'destined to be with' each other, right? I've heard of them before. Why do you ask?" he turned to face you with a curious expression.

You fidgeted with your hands, unsure of how to approach the subject. "It's just, in my world, they’re a very real thing." You took a deep breath and began to explain to Jamil about soulmates in your world—how it's believed that every person has a special bond with someone else, their soulmate, and that when they meet, they just know that they were meant to be together.

Jamil listened intently as you spoke, noticing the wistful look in your eyes as you talk about soulmates.

"At first, I wasn't sure about it either," you admitted. "But then... I met him."

Jamil's expression changed, a bitter wave crashing over him as he realized that you've found someone who had captured your heart. He had been content with being just friends, never daring to hope for more, but now it seemed that you had found someone else who made your heart sing.

"I see," he said, his movements a bit stiff as he poured hot water over the tea leaves. "It sounds like a beautiful thing, to be so connected to someone else," he commented, albeit a bit stiffly.

This stiffness goes unnoticed by you though, as you nodded, feeling a little embarrassed for bringing the conversation up. "Well, the thing is, I had hoped to find my soulmate. And... to have found him here in Twisted Wonderland, yet my connection to him is one-sided... I'm sorry; I know it sounds silly... It's just been on my mind a lot lately," you admitted.

Jamil shook his head. "Don't apologise. I'm glad you told me, it must be really important to you." He said, distracting himself by pouring the tea into a mug. "Here you go," he said, handing it to you. "It’s chamomile tea. I hope it helps you sleep better tonight."

"Thank you," you replied, taking a sip of the warm liquid. It's fragrant and soothing, and you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

Despite the sharp pang in Jamil's chest as he came to terms with the fact that you belonged to someone else, he couldn't help but be captivated by the image you paint of your soulmate. His heart clenched with bittersweet emotions as he pushed aside his own longing, resigned to the reality of unrequited feelings, as he had always done. He looked at you and asked, "So, what is your soulmate like?" His voice trembled slightly, betraying the turmoil of emotions within him.

You hesitated, torn between revealing the truth and keeping your feelings hidden. But as you met his intense gaze, you felt a surge of courage well up within you. Taking a deep breath, you described the person who holds the other half of your soul.

"He's incredibly responsible and resourceful," you said, your words tinged with a shy vulnerability. "He's always looking out for others, taking great care of the people around him. He's thoughtful, kind, and selfless."

As you spoke, Jamil's mind raced with a mix of emotions. He couldn't help but see himself reflected in the description you gave, recognizing the qualities that you admired in your soulmate. Could it be possible that you're describing him? His heart pounded loudly in his chest as he tried to keep his excitement in check. He cleared his throat and asked, "And... what about their hobbies?"

Okay, this is it. "He enjoys basketball and dancing quite a lot."

You watched as the gears turned in his head, his eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat as he realised what you had said. "Me?" he asked, his voice barely audible as a flush settled across his face, his emotions swirling like a tempest within him.

You nodded shyly, confirming his suspicions. Jamil's heart skips a beat, and he could hardly believe his luck. "I... I'm your soulmate...?" he stammered, his voice barely audible, but the joy in his eyes was unmistakable.

You nodded again, hesitating for a moment before speaking, "I... I’ll show you," you said as you start to unbutton the top buttons of your uniform. He raised his eyebrows in alarm, his gaze flitting between your face and the wall, seemingly flustered by your words. You could barely hold back a laugh at his adorable reaction, but you composed yourself and pulled down the collar of your shirt, revealing the words written neatly on your collarbone in a familiar handwriting—his handwriting.

Jamil stared at the mark, his expression unreadable. The words written there are in his own handwriting, unmistakably so. He reaches out tentatively, his fingertips grazing the letters as if trying to confirm that what he's seeing is real. He feels as your body thrums at his touch, and a wave of possessiveness washes over him, seeing his mark on you as if you belonged to him. For the first time in his life, something, no, someone, finally belonged to him completely.

"This is what I meant," you said quietly. "It's my soulmate mark. The first words you ever said to me."

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and tenderness. "I... I can't believe it," he stammered, his voice thick with emotion. "This is... this is incredible."

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth spread through your chest. "It's real, Jamil," you murmur, cupping his hand on your collarbone. "We're soulmates."

He nodded slowly, still unable to take his eyes off the mark on your skin. "I never imagined... I never thought it would be like this." He looked at you with a newfound sense of possessiveness, as if he was realizing for the first time that you were truly meant for each other. "You're mine," he said in a low, husky voice. "My soulmate."

Your breath hitched at his words, and a shiver ran down your spine. You could feel the depth of his emotions, the intensity of his love, and it left you feeling weightless. "Yes, Jamil," you said airily. "I'm yours, and... you're mine."

He smiled tenderly before leaning in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, yet possessive, kiss. It feels like fireworks going off in your head as you realise that the bond you had been searching for your whole life has finally solidified. You deepen the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pull him closer, lost in the moment of pure connection. When you finally pull away, both of you are left breathless, smiling widely at each other.

Jamil had always thought fate had pulled a cruel joke on him. But if fate had brought him a soulmate from another world, maybe it wasn’t such a bad joke after all.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[ayanominitrash]

🌹You, me, prom? JJK x Reader🌹

All I ever wanted was to go to prom!

Jjk characters asking you to be their prom date in case you've never been to one:

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

₊˚ ♡

Gojo - dramatic

💙 would bother everyone in his friend group for ideas or for their help orstracizing this event

💙 he'd probs gather a band and do something as cliche as a sing and dance in your school hallway

💙 he'd stayed up all night making the banner of 'will you marry me' full of rose petals stuck at the edge of the paper

💙 marriage? Like I said, dramatic.

💙 or would probably prank you, sending one of your close friends to tell you that he was badly injured cus he got jumped, only for him to pull out a single rose from his back pocket in the middle of your sobbing session when you were yelling for someone to call 911

💙 you almost said no cus of that prank

₊˚ ♡

Geto - in private, more intimate

🖤 he'd ask you at some type of usual hangout, he'd want you to be comfortable

🖤 like in the library, sliding a sticky paper to you with his elegant writing. It'd be in the middle of your quiet study session. You read: 'pretty girl, be my prom date?'

🖤 or maybe at the cafe you two would frequent, the question scribbled in the barista's scrawny penmanship all the while misspelling your name 💀

🖤 easy yes for you, the two of you would continue whatever you're doing after that, settling in a comfortable silence while holding hands

₊˚ ♡

Sukuna - blunt, casual

❤️ 'so, we on together for prom, right'? 💀

❤️ 'I'll pick you up by 6pm.'

❤️ honestly, you weren't sure if he was going to ask you at all so you were already thinking of a way to ask him first

❤️ 'are you asking me to prom? You know what? Fuck it, yeah.'

❤️ he'd probably drag you away from the venue to leave prom early and do something more to his liking, 'This shit's too cheesy.'

₊˚ ♡

Shoko - low key sweet, comedic

🤎 will probably give some type of pastries or chocolate with a short handwritten letter about all of her admiration for you and asking you to be her prom date. She'd read this letter out loud for you and kiss your cheek if you say yes.

🤎 if she was feelin' a little goofy, she'd probs ask you the question and have the words 'yes' and 'no' written in two separate cigarette sticks. She'd tell you to light the one that says your answer 💀

🤎 'Since you lit this one, you owe me a cigarette :))'

₊˚ ♡

Naoya - almost formal, a bit of an ass

🧡 prolly ask while eating dinner at his family home, just the two of you, your hand in his. "I'd like to be your date for prom."

🧡 Will immediately sigh in relief and let go of your hand as soon as you said yes. "Good. As you should. You're going to have to dress well if you're going to be seen out with me. You have the budget for a dress or…?"

🧡 he's spewing all this while you can see his hands trembling, trying to cover this nervous tick as he moves his utensils. He ain't slick. He's secretly as excited as you are.

🧡'we're going to match our outfits, of course.'

₊˚ ♡ - - - -

Bonus:

Mei Mei:

💜 I'll be your prom date - name your price.

💜 (I was gonna insert a joke bout u know what but it's best to stop myself here).

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated//do not repost my work anywhere

//

These are probs cliche's from the movies, sorry. The school I was going to during my Junior year didn't do proms :(( Which one from here is ur fave? Or how were you asked if you went to prom? Help me cope lol.

I'm thinking of opening asks, is that even a good idea cus I get frequent writing blocks,

[medusapelagia]

04 Back in town

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: Angst with Happy Ending) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: Zombie Apocalypse) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve & Hopper, Steve/Eddie TW: AU zombies, body horror, injuries, blood, whump, presumed dead character Words: 1221

Steve always knew that he would die alone, fighting some monstrous creatures.

Since the first time he hit a Demogorgon with a nailed bat in Jonathan's Byer living room, he never stopped fighting.

What he wasn't expecting was having to fight people he knew.

Maybe Jason Carver and his brother Christian weren't exactly his best friends, but finding their rotting corpses chasing him while he was looking for supplies in the back of Malvad wasn't exactly on his wishlist.

Steve jumps on a rusty car's roof, holding his backpack tight and looking for an escape. He still has Hopper's gun, but the noise would only attract even more zombies, so he grabs the switchblade from his back pocket and clicks it open, still looking around, weary. If there's something he has learned, it's that towns are way more dangerous than the woods: too many blind corners where zombies can hide.

Jason Carver is already trying to climb on the car when Steve kicks him in the face and his rotten teeth fall on the ground, bouncing like white marbles. Christian is just behind him, and Steve loses no time: he stabs him in the stomach and pushes him to the ground. That’s not the right way to kill them, but the fastest to get rid of them while he runs toward the old movie theater.

The old signboard where Tommy wrote some slurs against Nancy in another life, is dangling, so Steve runs toward it, planning to use the slope at his vantage to get on the roof. He kisses the black and red guitar pick around his neck for good luck and jumps from the car's roof to the concrete before sprinting toward the theater. The signboard cracks loudly before breaking in half under Steve's weight, but he manages to cling to the ledge of the theater, with his legs dangling in the air.

A sudden burning pain makes him scream, and for a moment his left hand slips and moves instinctively toward his injured leg. Christian Carver is standing under him, reaching out toward Steve's legs with his discolored arms. Steve kicks him hard, freeing his leg from the zombie's hold, and with the adrenaline still pumping in his veins, he pulls himself up on the movie theater's roof, rolling on his back and finally catching his breath.

The Carver brothers are still growling, and Steve knows that the smell of his blood will attract every fucking zombie still in town. He's utterly fucked. And Hopper will be furious. He told him not to go in town alone, but El was sick and even some expired meds are better than no meds at all. 

Steve rummages in his backpack: going to the school's infirmary was a good call, he found some gauze and a few meds, but Melvald was a disaster. He knew it was one of the first places that got ransacked. He grabs a half-empty bottle of water, drinks some, and pours some on his leg. It looks nasty.

Fuck.

With a sigh and trembling hands, he takes the walkie-talkie from the backpack and turns it on. It slowly cracks to life while the growls under the theater get higher and louder. How long till those monsters find a way to get on the roof?

"Hey Hop," he says, pushing the button.

"Steve? Steve, where the hell are you?"

"In town."

"How many times did I tell you-"

"Got El's meds."

"Ok. Ok. Now get your ass back home. It’s going to get dark soon."

"Don't think I will. Christian Carver got me good."

"Steve." 

Steve can hear Hopper grit his teeth, "How long? We could still-"

"I'm in Hawkins and it's getting darker. No reason to risk it. I'll leave the backpack somewhere safe here on the movie theater roof. Come and get in the morning, ok?"

"Steve."

Steve whimpers softly. He has some gauze in his bag but he doesn't want to waste it. He's going to die on that roof anyway and the others will need it more than him.

“Sorry Dad,” he says, before turning off the radio and pulling the batteries out.

No goodbyes. Steve hates those. 

The throbbing pain from his leg keeps him awake, while the sun slowly sets. It’s not a bad way to go, he thinks to himself.

He’s drinking some water when he hears the noise of a helicopter propeller.

He must be hallucinating: gas is long gone. But the noise gets closer and closer, and a bright yellow light blinds him for a moment. A rope falls from the helicopter and someone dressed all in black climbs down with ease. The unknown man gets closer to him, and Steve shivers in fear. Maybe he's not so ready to die after all.

The man moves slowly, studying Steve's face before bending next to his leg, "How long?" he asks, staring at the bloody injury.

"Hours."

"Shit! Shit! Shit!"

The voice seems so painfully familiar.

"Ok, we can still take you to Owens and-"

"Eddie?'' Steve asks, confused. The last time Steve saw Eddie he gave him his guitar pick before leaving with his band to make it big. And then the world split in two and people were turned into zombies.

"Hey, big boy. You always had a wicked sense of humor. Now that I finally found you, you play me a trick like this?"

"Sorry, Ed. Didn't mean it."

Eddie grabs the bottle of water, helping him drink a few sips.

"I'm going to take you away from here," Eddie says, helping Steve stand, who whines loudly even if Eddie helps him hold his weight. He tightens the rope around Steve's middle and holds himself with his arms while the crew on the helicopter pulls them up.

As soon as they are on the helicopter someone yells, "Are you fucking crazy? He's infected!"

"I wasn't gonna let him die on that fucking roof alone, ok Gar?" Eddie replies, while a dark-skinned man, Jeff if Steve’s memory isn’t wrong, points a flashlight on Steve's leg.

"There's no bite." He whispers, pulling the skin while Steve grits his teeth and Eddie and Gareth keep bickering in the back, "Hey, morons! There's no bite! Just a very nasty scratch!"

"Are you serious?" Eddie jumps next to Jeff, staring at Steve's wounded leg. The cuts are deep and need a very thorough cleaning, but if there's no bite.

"I knew you were a lucky son of a bitch, Harrington!" Eddie says in a jubilant tone, hitting Steve’s shoulder who whimpers and immediately asks for forgiveness.

“El. I have medicine for El in the backpack.” Steve tries to explain, while Jeff is still trying to clean the cut as well as he can.

“We’ll find them and we’ll take them home. For the moment all you have to do is rest and recover.” Jeff says, wrapping Steve’s injured leg.

“Home?” Steve asks, confused.

“Dear Steve Harrington, you’re now a member of the Nina Project Community.” Eddie grins, sitting on the floor so that Steve can rest his head on his legs.

Eddie brushes some sweaty strands of hair away from Steve’s head with his fingers, “Don’t worry, Stevie. Everything will be fine.”

And if Eddie is still alive and he found a safe place to call home, maybe there’s still hope.

[happyhauntt]

stay, i pray you — nikolai lantsov.

series masterlist | writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: nikolai has a decision to make. anya makes it for him.

─── pairing: nikolai lantsov & anya kamenev (original character.)

─── warnings: takes place during seige & storm just after sturmhond reveals himself to be nikolai. angst, hurt/no comfort, pre-established relationship. this one's gonna hurt.

─── word count: 2.1k.

     "I've had an idea."

     The military encampment at Kribirsk is as familiar to Anya as the freckles on Nikolai's nose, the garden of her father's estate, the brittle ache of her injured knee. Crashing the Hummingbird had not been part of the plan — and her body had certainly not appreciated the impromptu swim in the nearby lake — but the First Army officers had recognised her and Nikolai, affording them all the honours of their stations and escorting them to the commander's tent.

     Anya hadn't felt all that comfortable with it. She may have been Lieutenant Corporal before her discharge, but it has become increasingly difficult to love the army that raised her while it serves the country that abandoned her. General Raevsky had once been her commanding officer. She and Nikolai had served under him on the northern border, oh, how many years ago now?

They'd both been green as grass, infantry grunts who'd never handled a rifle, never fired a shot or seen a battlefield begin to bleed. Raevsky greeted her like an old friend when they stumbled onto shore, asked how she was fairing as if he hadn't seen her only a few months ago, before she helped the Sun Summoner flee Ravka by smuggling her onto a ship bound for Novyi Zem.

     The tent Anya finds herself in is small but serviceable, with clean, fresh clothes laid out on the bed and a small plate of food waiting on the table. Nikolai disappeared shortly after their arrival, most likely to offer up an explanation to the commanders, but when he finally reappears, he finds Anya combing out the knots of her damp hair with her fingers, changed into a clean, loose shirt and army-issue trousers. She feels as if she never left the army and the thought makes her nauseous.

     "You have an idea?" She raises an eyebrow at him as he steps tentatively inside, allowing the tent flap to fall closed behind him. A playful smirk dances over her face. "Given that your last idea sent us crash-landing into a lake, I must admit I feel a little apprehensive."

     He huffs at her, an almost-chuckle that sends alarm bells ringing in her mind. A jibe like that would usually send him on a ranting spiral, fussing all about how his invention hadn’t been the reason they crashed and had, actually, worked exactly as intended for the majority of their journey.

     Teasing him is easy, and the way he smiles when she does sends warmth pouring through her. Seeing him so subdued is… troubling, to say the least. He hangs up his sword and crosses the tent to perch on the edge of her bed. His eyes remain fixed on the floor the whole time.

     Kneeling in front of him, she allows her fingers to graze over the bruise blossoming on his cheek. His eyes fall closed for a moment. "She really got you, didn't she? Our dear Sun Summoner has a mean right hook."

     "Believe me, I know. Scrappy little thing." Nikolai flexes his jaw and opens his eyes, and all once, Anya knows. It's written in the tiny lines between his brows and the quirk of his mouth and the ache in his eyes.

     "What is it?" she murmurs. Her fingers linger on his face, and he leans into the warmth of her, just slightly. Her knee protests, but she doesn't dare try to stand up. "What's happened?"

     He swallows roughly. "I've told you before, haven't I, about coming back here and helping Ravka. About fixing it before it's too late."

     Whispered conversations in a dimly-lit cabin flutter through her mind. Wishes pressed against her skin with kisses, hopes and dreams caught up in a lover's embrace. I could be better than Vasily, he'd said, and she had believed that, the way she believed the sun would rise in the morning. I could save Ravka.

     She hadn't told him the truth, then. She'd taken his dreams and folded them up into her own chest, to keep safe beside her heart, but she hadn't wanted it the way he did. Anya would sooner see Ravka burn. She cannot bring herself to feel mercy, not where this Saints-forsaken country is concerned. Not after it abandoned her when she needed it most.

     Now, she nods. A damp tendril of hair falls past her eyes. "I remember. You said you... you would find a way to convince Vasily to step aside, and your father would make you the heir. But it wasn't a plan. You said you didn't know how you'd do it, yet. Just that you wished you could."

     She may never forget it. The panic that struck her, bone-deep. The way his ambitions have haunted her ever since. He may not have known it then, but a ticking clock had been set that day. Anya never knew when their time would run out. Only that she would never be ready for it.

     He smiles, now. A rueful thing. There is no need to hide with her, no need to put on that winsome devil-may-care act he wears like armour. She is not a politician he can sway to his side, nor a danger he can charm his way out of, and yet he smiles at her. She is so beautiful, and soft, and she's not wearing her armour, either. Not here, not with him. There is nothing to smile about, and in a few moments it will all be different, but right now she is his, so he has to smile. He has to.

     He may weep, otherwise.

     "Kolya." Her voice is so quiet, barely more than a whisper, and he is so sure that she knows, already, without him having to breathe a word.

     His throat goes horribly tight, an invisible hand wrapped tight around his windpipe, as if that will stop his confession. His eyes flit to the roof for a moment. They start to sting.

     "Alina's power is the key to Ravka's survival," he says. Every word feels like lead on his tongue. "The Apparat has turned her into a living Saint, and the people love her. If I'm to make a bid for the throne and convince Vasily to step aside, it can't just be that I'm the best man for the job. That won't matter. But an alliance with the Sun Summoner might sway the odds in my favour."

     Anya watches him for a long moment. He holds his breath as time stretches, and eternity seems to pass before she even blinks. She withdraws her hand, allowing it to rest lightly on his thigh. The absence of her touch lingering in his face burns like a fresh bullet wound.

     He wonders if you can die from missing someone who hasn't gone anywhere yet.

     "An alliance with Alina." Anya narrows her eyes as the pieces click together in her mind." You mean—"

     "I'm going to ask her to marry me." His throat feels rough as sandpaper. "A political marriage, in name only. The game has changed and Alina is the only one who can level the playing field."

     He keeps talking, but Anya can hardly hear him. Her brain began to buzz with white noise the moment she heard the word marriage, as if her skull is home to a thousand angry wasps and someone suddenly decided to shake the nest. She can feel her blood rushing in her ears, her heartbeat thudding in her throat, but she doesn't dare give herself away.

     Anya Kamenev is a soldier, but she is also a future duchess. Her mother would be proud to learn that all those etiquette lessons didn't go to waste. Summoning a decade of training, her old governess' instructions rattling through her mind, her face remains delicate and empty. Not a muscle twitch or a quiver of her lip, not a hint of sorrow flashing in her eyes. She might as well be carved from marble. Her heart sits in her chest like a stone.

     "Nastya." The nickname he gave her in their army days is salt in an open wound. Nikolai reaches for her, grasps her hands in his as if she is all that can anchor him to this world. "I don't know what to do."

     "Of course you do." Somehow her voice is gentle, even though she feels jagged at the edges, like touching her might make him bleed. An instinct tugs at her, to curl her fingers around his own and hold him just as tight, but she can't bring herself to move. "You wouldn't bring it up to me if you hadn't already thought it through. You're a clever man, Nikolai. The cleverest I know, and don't let that go to your head. You know what you have to do now. You just want my permission to do it."

     Is it crueller, somehow, to ask for permission? To hand over her heart, and the knife too, as if that will make it hurt less when he carves it from her chest?

     A wet laugh bubbles out of him. "Trust you to keep my ego in check even now, Anya."

     "Someone has to," she says. She heaves herself into a standing position, wincing as her knee cracks and tiny bolts of lightning spike up her leg. "Although I think Alina will do a brilliant job. I don't mind handing over that responsibility to her."

     "Don't." Nikolai is on his feet in a moment. One hand remains in hers, his grip tight as a vice, but the other curls around the back of her neck. His thumb brushes softly over her cheek. The warmth of it makes her shudder. "Don't say that like you're going anywhere. I'm not sure I can do any of this without you."

     "Of course you can," Anya murmurs. Saints, she isn't sure the torture she endured at the hands of Shu Han's scientists hurt this much. If she closes her eyes, she can almost believe he's taken a blade and gutted her right here, like a fish on the deck of his ship.

     A ragged breath tears out of him as he says, "Alright, perhaps I can. But I don't want to."

     When he kisses her, it doesn't feel like a kiss goodbye. It doesn't feel like their last kiss in a thousand. There's a ferocity to him as he clutches her, teeth clashing, but that doesn't change the truth of it. He can hold her as tightly as he wants, but they both know she has always been smoke in his hands.

     “I would give you anything,” he says against her mouth, pressed together like hands in prayer. She feels his breath stutter against her tongue, hitched with a sob he will not set free. “Name it. Palaces and jewels, the moon, a temple built in your name, the heads of every man who ever harmed you served on a silver platter. Name it and it’s yours. Just stay.”

     Your heart. The tear slides down her cheek unbidden, and he kisses it away as he has done a thousand times before. She catches his lips with her own and kisses him again, fingers tangled in tendrils of his hair, still rough with saltwater no matter how many times he washes it. Your heart, your hand, a life with you away from this Saints-forsaken country.

     She’ll stay. She will, because Anya is a soldier, and though she no longer has any loyalty to Ravka, she still believes in him. And there is no pain in the world that could hurt more than abandoning him now, no matter how much she wishes she could.

     “Anything.” His voice, barely a whisper, a plea to those forgotten saints who have never seen fit to bestow a miracle upon them. “Anything, my darling.”

     He sinks to his knees before her, presses his forehead to her stomach. She leans and kisses the crown of his scalp, lingering a moment to breathe in the salt and sea of him. Ravka will never know how lucky it is to have a prince so loyal. She doesn’t know what they’d done to earn such devotion.

     “I know.” Despite the tears, her voice is deceptively still. Your heart. But he had already sworn it to his country, long before he ever loved her. “I want the same as you, Nikolai; peace and prosperity for Ravka.”

     He snorts against her stomach. His arms wrap tightly around her middle. “Liar.”

     “Always.” Pushing him away would not be the worst torture she has endured, but she worries it will scar her far longer than any blade could.

[rinneroraito]

hospitaL

This short includes grief, pain, and hurt over a major character death. 900+ words

I've written sweet moments but one thing I've always liked in media is tragedy and I'm trying my hand at it.

I don’t like hospitals.

There’s the lingering scent of antiseptic in the air, medical personnel donned in white making their way to and fro seemingly like ghosts, injured people sitting on the chairs waiting to be attended to looking more dead than alive. The hospital is a place I’ve frequented in my career as a police investigator, it’s a familiar setting, yet I never felt comfortable being here. It’s never been good. Being here meant something was wrong, someone was hurt, someone was in pain. 

I continue staring at the white tiles, massaging the back of my hand mindlessly. My eyelids feel heavy. The knuckles on my right hand are sore, and there’s a bandage on my temple covering up an abrasion. The waiting room is cold, the steel bench icy like death, uncomfortable, unwelcoming. Has it always been like this? Have I always hated hospitals or do I just not want to be here at the moment? Am I refusing the reality of my presence here? Will it do me any good if I don’t address the fact that I am here right now and…

And…?

My hands shake and I slump forward.

Oh...

My right hand is in pain from the way I threw a punch at a certain teenager earlier. The abrasion on my cheek was from when I tried to catch…

No, god no…

Tears are welling up my eyes again, my shoulders are shaking now.

Being in a hospital could also mean someone had died.

The distraction from the horrible truth of reality was something I wanted to prolong. It was a fleeting kindness from the pain, and I resented how brief it was. There was no escape from this frigid hospital waiting room. I could leave, but that wouldn’t change anything.

“Uehara..?”

I look up to meet Mogi, towering over me. The steel bench squeaks softly as I stand up, noticing he was carrying something. A ziploc bag. He reaches forward, beckoning for me to take it.

As soon as I touch the material, I immediately realize what was inside it.

“Everyone noticed how close you two had become. If keeping this is too much, you could just throw them-”

“No,” I immediately replied, my voice hoarse and quiet.

The ziploc bag smells heavily of antiseptic as I clutched it close to my chest.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t think.

I can’t stop shaking.

I want to throw up.

I want to scream.

I want to tear my hair out.

My head hurts.

My chest hurts.

My eyes are stinging again.

The tiled flooring feels cold on my legs as I sink, hugging the clothes.

My throat hurts.

I want to scream.

I want to scream.

Can I still scream?

I can’t breathe.

My eyes sting.

I can’t think, I can’t think… 

I can’t tell where it hurts, it hurts everywhere, I’m in so much pain. My eyes hurt, my throat hurts, my head hurts, my hands hurt.

I want him back.

Mogi squats down beside me, squeezing my shoulder.

The Detective fell off of his chair earlier and I was so worried he’d hit his head that I tried to catch him before he hit the floor. But I was the first to go down and I got knocked out for a few moments. When I came to, the lights were blaring. The Yagami kid was screaming as he held the Detective in his arms.

I swore my heart stopped that moment, too.

It was instinctive when I shot up and threw a punch at him, knocking him back, away from the Detective.

Everyone was screaming.

I turned my attention back towards him, now lying down on the floor with his eyes closed. He was heavy when I lifted him to me and I started feeling for his vitals. Warm breath, a pulse, a heartbeat...

Did it hurt when you fell off your chair, Detective? I’m sorry I didn't catch you in time. Were you scared when you felt your heart stop? Don’t be scared, don’t be scared, I'm right here, I’ll hold you. Is it too cold? I’ll warm your hands, I’ll keep holding you just … Please… 

Please come back… Give me a sign, anything, please….

Anything.

Anything…

…

…

But there was nothing anymore and I started to scream.

I was screaming when Matsuda pulled me away from him so Mogi could carry him out of the building.

I was screaming at the Yagami kid when Chief Soichiro ordered me to just go with Mogi instead.

My throat hurts.

“Detective…” I murmur raggedly against the plastic, my breath fogging it up.

“L…”

I was sobbing again, losing count of how many times I’ve been crying on and off.

“L…H-he was… So.. Young…” My voice cracks in my blubbering state.

“He was,” Mogi affirms my statement.

In the entirety of the investigation I just realized how firmly I held the belief that L wouldn’t meet this kind of fate, that he’d be able to catch Kira and fly back to England. Or travel wherever he wanted. And eat more sweets…

I continued to sob, pressing my face into the plastic. I could feel my wet cheeks sticking on the material.

My colleague was silent now, still squeezing my shaking shoulders as I cried loudly, hoarsely, into the ziploc bag of L’s clothes. My chest feels constricted as I try to draw in breaths between heavy sobs, the front of my shirt drenched in tears that don’t seem to stop. I could cry a lake and scream until my voice goes out but he’s gone.

He’s gone.

We just lost the Greatest Detective in the world.

I lost L.

…

…

…

…

“I hate hospitals.”

[mazzystar24]

I totally get I just finished my exam week (I had to do a math test at 8am Sat😭). Wish you luck tho!

Also do you have any good buddies fics? Destiel too?

Math test at 8am is BRUTAL

Thank you I will definitely need it😭😭

Unfortunately I only have buddie fics to offer😔:

(Warning I do like a fair amount of angst)

Right where you left me - by hyacinthusbloom ( @thebloomingheather on here) - when I say I might be as big a fan of this fic as I am of the show I MEAN IT, you do not even understand how much I love this fic or how obsessed I am with it, I have reread it so many times despite it still being in progress that I think I may genuinely qualify it as addictive, me and @estheticpotaeto legit wait for updates like a dog at the author’s door istg, like everything about this fic is flawless and written with so much love and emotion and the way the writer captures the effects of trauma is just amazing because it’s so rare to find this level of diving into ptsd and the more uncomfortable aspects of it that are more taboo or less understandable to people, like I can yap for an hour about this fic but I’ll just say READ IT

Any fic by daisies_and_briars ( @cal-daisies-and-briars on here) but one of my favourites of his is Both blade and branch and muscle memory and four can keep a secret and appetency and the two she’s writing right now (change the prophecy and steal my sunshine) -wow at that point I should’ve left it as any fic because that’s a lot of favourites😭😭

Any fic by @loserdiaz plus with them you get enough lighthearted fics to even out the angst

Ooo I’m not sure what their username on here is but lizzybizzyzz is also another writer who I just love their fics

Fractals by hobbitprincess - one of those fics that make you squeak at how much love these fictional characters have for each other

Beneath my mother tongue by archerincombat - the angst the writing the way they hit every single emotional beat? Amazing

Anything by this_is_moony_lovegood

Leave the light on (I’ll be coming home) by HMSLusitania - the presumed dead Eddie fic of your dreams, a constant reread for me it’s just 👌

Anchored by adorkable_buddie - sorry Chris you gotta be injured sometimes just for us to get our buddie dreams hope you understand and we appreciate your sacrifice 😔🫶

empty, broken, lonely, hoping by daniweb - when I tell you I love the presumed dead trope you best believe I’m telling the truth because the ANGST?? Yes please, LISTEN it’s the closest you can get to the emotional beats of killing off a character without ever killing them off because you love them and happy endings too much so TIM MINEAR TAKE NOTES I KNOW YOU SAID YOU LOVE THEM TOO MUCH TO KILL THEM, anyways back to to the point this fic again is just flawless execution by the writer like absolutely love it

every time we stop talking (the universe starts screaming) by withmeornotatall - emotional destruction and I absolutely love it, divorce era 2.0 and it HITS

Home is where it hurts- by rileyblue2001 - can you tell I hate the Buckley parents because I HATE the Buckley parents

The one with the return of the sex addiction by buddiefication (pumpkincreamcoldbrew) - I’ve reccomended so much angst so have a funny little light hearted buddie fic with the father bobby vibes we all love❤️❤️

Okay back to the angst tho 😭😭- out of ashes by Ashavahishta - AHHHHHHH THIS FIC JUST AHHHHH STOP THE WAY I WOULD DIE FOR A FOLLOW UP FIC TO THIS AHHHH I LOVE IT SM AND ITS LEGIT A ONE SHOT I CRIED SO HARD

Falling Slowly; Sing Your Melody (I’ll Sing It Loud) by Princessfbi ( @princessfbi on here who I also love sm of their fics so highly suggest just going on their page and looking through all the fics) - absolutely love it, legit gave me brain rot and got me obsessed for a GOOD while

I'm comin' back, don't let me go by wikiangela ( @wikiangela on here also love love their fics again so check them out but this one is probably my favourite of theirs)

Okay this is looking more and more like a uni reading list so I’m gonna shut up now but I hope you enjoy these fics and that a few of them emotionally damage you like they did me because I love to spread the joy (see: pain and suffering) 🫶🫶

[erinwantstowrite]

For Leap of Faith, do you have a rough outline for the entire fanfic or do you go into each chapter blind? Also I’m obsessed with your story I trapped my friends in a room and ranted about it like a mad man

hahahaa i hope you gave your friends some enrichment while they were trapped!

I'm actually personally insane because of my outline process. I make sooooo many. Like, a weird amount. They're always changing so I have to do rough outlines for the "overall" and then more detailed outlines for chapters.

I do a brainstorm session and I make two lists: things I want to have, and things I need to have.

Then I break it down into a (sort of) chronological order. Like in the chapter where Two Face showed up, I knew I wanted to have Damian figure Peter out, but I didn't know how until I looked at my "Need" list and saw I still needed to get Two Face out of the way. So they went into the outline together. But I definitely keep things broad and as chronological as it gets, because I learned my lesson about making super detailed outlines for the entire fic only to get to a chapter and realize that what I wanted in the beginning doesn't work anymore for what I ended up actually writing.

That's why I save making detailed outlines for single chapters. I break each scene down into rough segments and write down how characters are feeling, and reminders of what just happened. So it'll look something like this:

Excuse my shit handwriting it was like. 1AM and I had written this outline like five hundred times. I prefer writing down my outline in a notebook (I just finished the first notebook for LoF and need to get another one). Not the best example, but it's the gist. I'd write things on the sides of like "remember that Nightwing is injured" or "maybe mention Ben here."

And even with this example, some of this didn't end up happening. I always got to keep an eye out for what ends up being more entertaining. My favorite writing tip is "If something isn't working, your set up is missing something." Gotta give yourself breathing room if you want to have fun with it. :)

[an-amber-in-the-ashes]

Hi! I'm a reader with hEDS like Violet, and Fourth Wing made me feel like I'd been spat on.

*This* is what we get for representation? One million instances of pushing through pain?

In terms of Violet being lanky and skinny, I get it. A lot (not all! Not all! Do you hear me! Not all!) of people with hEDS are extremely thin, but also very tall. I felt a bit sad that that second part wasn't explored-- it's way harder to keep from bumping your elbows when your arms are that long. What I really wanted to see with the "uwu I'm sooooooo white-- I mean pale -- and skinny owo" was some kind of sunburn. Hell, even more evident bruising. There are consequences to the EDS complexion (obviously poc will have different experiences, but we're talking about a Generic White Fantasy Girl Here)

I kept hoping that she would get some kind of mobility aid, some kind of help from her small dragon, a brace, anything. We got a few mentions of wraps, but considering her biggest issues seemed to come from her shoulders and knees, that's a bandaid on a stab wound. It wouldn't save her forever.

The opportunity to explore accessible and altered sex positions was entirely ignored. Considering, again, the shoulders, there should have been more thought put into it. (Also, did you know a hEDS symptom is easier bruising? This includes the cervix. Do with that what you will)

I kept waiting for something (electric finger splints? Aches from the storms her powers cause? A day when she finally went too far and couldn't move? Nosebleeds from flying too high?), and it just never came. Violet was the bestest and the most powerful because she pushed through her body's warning signal that something was about to give, and was rewarded with Ambiguously Brown Man #45.

What a waste of time. What a message to give to the people with the same condition.

I didn't have very many opinions about this because I didn't know very much about hEDS. But even to me the whole thing of her having the disease felt kind of gimmicky because of the way that it was treated. I honestly didn't realise (because of the way everything was written) until like the end that her getting injured easily wasn't just another quirky trait of hers because she was just so tiny and petite and fragile.

but after hearing yours and reading other people's testimonies about how debilitating the condition can be, it's really insane to me how RY managed to misrepresent her own condition.

I don't understand why authors always make their mc so short and teeny tiny like it's so weird.

I feel like RY started writing her as a person with EDS and then got bored/forgot about it quickly and just peppered in symptoms while editing.

To me it felt like she was just using it as a way to add to Violet's QuiRy-ness and nothing more.

As far as I remember the only aid Violet got was the big dragon helping her stay on his back while she was riding but I don't think that that helped her very much.

I have mild hyper mobility and even writing for a long time is difficult because of that. So how Violet is able to ride a dragon and fight with a condition a million times worse and no aid I will never be able to understand.

I feel like RY didn't give her any mobility aids or anything because it would make her seem "weak" but de stigmatizing the need for additional help is an entirely different topic.

Honestly imo she just used the syndrome as a gimmick and an easy way to make her character interesting.

There is so much that could have been explored but wasn't.

Another case of lost potential, weak research and bad writing

[sourpatchys]

Tea Prompts, Tomura Shigaraki

You can find the original prompt post here!

Let me know if there are any other characters you’d like to see any of these prompts for! This was really fun!

Warning: some adult themes are thrown in here! This isn’t a NSFW piece but I did include some references to sexual activity, please read with caution if that’s not your cup of tea <3 (most of these are completely SFW)

A/n: these were written with a F!Reader in mind, most of them can be read either way! Though occasionally she/her pronouns are used<3

Masterlist Guidelines

Lemon Tea; What are Mornings like with them?

Tomura isn’t much of a sleeper— so mornings together tend to be rare and far between— but when he actually manages to sleep a full eight hours, the mornings you have together are very peaceful.

He isn’t a morning person by any means. He’s groggy, grumpy and completely nonverbal for the first hour or more. With you he can loosen up a bit, sliding his cold hands and feet into your general space, switching fingers every few minutes just to make sure they’re all warming up properly.

Some mornings he’ll wrap you in a bear hug that your absolutely positive could crack a few ribs— though you love it all the same.

This is the time you two have just to yourselves— no league, no missions, no plans for world domination— just two people laying in bed waiting for the sun to fully rise.

—

Peppermint tea; What do they get excited about?

A pretty obvious answer would be video games, but in all honesty, Tomura loves to talk.

To speak and be heard, to engage in conversation and bounce ideas back and forth— that’s what really gets him going. He loves to plot, to scheme and gossip about anything and everything.

Outwardly it’ll be nearly impossible to tell, he really isn’t the kind of guy who would let anyone know something this personal (so vulnerable), though everyone notices the spark in his eyes when he really gets going on a topic he’s passionate about.

If you were to ask follow up questions, to engage yourself fully in his monologues and spiels, it’s just like giving a kid a candy bar.

And if you were to get angry for him?? To enrage yourself over anything he may say, to become furious at the same situation or person he hates so much— it’s almost enough to fully break his cover.

It’s one thing for him to be elated over the prospect of another person feeling his rage, but it’s another entirely if he starts to feel yours. Stupid highschool bully stories, that one girl in band class that broke your flute— it doesn’t matter— he’ll start eating it up as if he hasn’t had a meal in years.

—

Chamomile tea; What is their sleep schedule like? Does it change around their s/o?

To put it bluntly, Tomura doesn’t have a sleep schedule— he sleeps when his body gives out.

Even before his memories had re-emerged, blotchy nightmares plagued him. Every morning he’d wake up sick to his stomach, the itch under his skin growing by the millisecond. So— he learned to adapt.

2-3 hour power naps kept the nightmares at bay and gave him enough stamina for whatever was to come. His lack of sleep was a large driving force in his erratic behavior early on, grumpy and irritable.

With you though, he finds the nightmares to be less oppressive. He still doesn’t sleep enough, but he finds that taking a couple days out of the week to rest fully isn’t so bad.

If he has a nightmare, the cycle will break back to its bare bones and it’ll take awhile to resurface. As long as you’re patient and as long as he’s willing, he’ll be back to sleeping properly.

Though as a whole, it could take years before he’s ready to sleep regularly again.

—

Earl grey tea; How did they court their s/o?

He didn’t. He isn’t a romantic— he honestly hated you when he started to feel more than just average companionship towards you.

Not a single bushel of roses were bought, no dates were had— hell— you didn’t even know you were together until about a month in when he got pissed at you for getting injured!

“If you ever do that again we’re breaking up.”

Any confusion would only piss him off more— giving you the silent treatment for a few days before he’d finally cave in with some very dead and very wilted wild flowers in hand.

“What is this??”

“Shut the fuck up and take them.”

He honestly just decides that you’re the one he wants— it doesn’t really matter to him how you feel about it.

—

Milk tea; What are their kisses like?

At first, Tomura’s kisses are gentle, childlike and timid— like he isn’t sure what exactly he’s supposed to be doing.

Then— they become untamed— sloppy and harsh. He bites and slobbers, prods and maims, anything to get as close to you as possible.

He won’t kiss you unless you’re completely alone, far away from any prying eyes and peaked interests. He’s not going to show that part of himself to anyone but you.

Teeth and tongue, cracked lips that— if chapped enough— can cut into your own. Kissing is a frenzy, very rarely will you ever get a soft peck or a loving press of his lips onto yours.

—

Coffee; Do they get jealous easily? How do they show it?

Absolutely. Tomura— even as a rising symbol of fear— is extremely self conscious.

He’d never let you leave— as stated above— he didn’t even really give you a choice when it came to being together in the first place.

But even so, the insecurity of you looking away from him, finding someone better or more handsome— it makes his blood run cold.

If there’s someone who touches you and lingers a little too long, if there’s someone you smile at a little too brightly, he’s not above taking their life. Of course it always starts with a threat, either to them or to you.

He wants you to tell him you’ll never leave, he wants you to crumble and cry and tell him everything is exactly as it should be. He is not a kind man, and in times like these it becomes ever apparent that he never will be.

Tomura protects what’s his, and even with free will, you belong to him whether you like it or not.

—

Rosehip tea; How romantic are they? How do they show affection?

Tomura isn’t romantic. At least not in the traditional sense. You can tell he cares by the look in his eyes or his apprehensive nature towards your roll in whatever the league may be doing next.

He keeps you away from danger, even though he, himself, is the biggest danger to you.

If you were to ask for something— anything— he would get it for you. He’s very straight forward, and he wants the people he cares about to able to do, and have whatever they want.

His love language is physical touch, and even though he keeps all the affection he has for you behind closed doors— as soon as those doors are closed, he’s all over you.

Running his hands up and down your stomach, gripping at the squish on your thighs, shoving his head into the crook of your neck, palming your breasts just to remember the feel of them.

He treats you like a fragile porcelain doll.

—

Black tea; What do they look for in a person?

Honestly he wasn’t looking. The concept of romance was completely uninteresting to him— he didn’t want anyone and he didn’t need anyone— he was completely fine on his own.

Though, he wouldn’t date a fellow villain— at least not one notable enough to be a threat. Tomura doesn’t do well with competition, he loathes the thought of racing to the top, he just wants to be there.

Finding a person who he can corrupt, who he can make his own— is something he’d enjoy greatly. That’s not to say he couldn’t fall for a league member, but it wouldn’t be someone worth his time— at least not in the beginning.

He wants a person he can talk to, touch, and unload upon. Someone who will remain consistent and stick by his side no matter what the cost may be.

Although romance isn’t his forte, and finding someone to love wasn’t something he had ever envisioned, he wants someone he can be with for life.

—

Pomegranate tea; At what point did they know they loved their s/o?

Truth be told Tomura was wrapped around your finger from the moment he decided he wanted you— though it didn’t fully kick in until a few months into your relationship.

You were in a fight— it was over something stupid that any other couple could’ve resolved within the day— looking back neither of you could even remember what it was about.

He was pissed, stomping around, seething and destroying anything he could get his hands on. He wanted to yell at you, to scream in your face and make sure you know this was your fault. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Gradually, as the days passed and he became less and less bothered by whatever the two of you had disagreed on— he realized he wasn’t itchy.

He still had those rising tingles under his skin and he still had to rub away his discomfort from day to day life— but this argument, the infuriating way you had made him feel— it did nothing to his sensitive skin.

Slowly it became apparent that he hadn’t needed to dig into his skin at all. He was angry, he was upset and borderline furious with you— but he was comfortable.

For the first time in his life he was able to feel negativity without the pull of fire ants under his skin. That’s when he realized for sure— that he was absolutely, without a doubt, in love with you.

—

Matcha tea; How and when do they propose to their s/o?

The villain life has no room for any sort of eloping or marriage— so he doesn’t ever really propose.

Sooner or later you just start to feel like a married couple.

You bicker and fight, you sleep together and sneak away to have alone time. The love he has for you starts seeping out more, he becomes a new version of himself just for you.

Then, once the Paranormal Liberation Front is active, Re-Destro asks about your partnership. It’s a simple question, curious and wide eyed.

“Who is this girl to you?”

It makes sense given the environment— you were not nominated as a lieutenant, though you stood by Tomura’s side like a shadow, waiting and watching— clearly in the ranks but with no flashy title to show for it.

And then, as if it were as simple as breathing, Tomura calls you his wife. Telling anyone who was around that he was the King, and by default you were the Queen.

—

Chai Tea; How do they spice up their relationship?

All in all, Tomura is a pretty boring guy. He drinks straight black coffee, plays video games and broods in silence 90% of the time.

Though, when it comes to you, he does try to make an effort. He’ll try out the games you like or your hobbies, and he’ll introduce you to his own in return.

He’ll teach you how to play chess, and that will inevitably turn into tradition. Once a week (if time will allow) you’ll sit down together, play a few games and just talk.

In the underworld, romance never will be easy to manage, and even though you make his days a little brighter, you’ll never be his top priority. World destruction won’t happen on its own, and nothing in his life will override his goals.

But these special little moments between the two of you are by far the best part of anything he’s ever going to accomplish.

—

Hibiscus tea; What’s their favorite place to take their s/o?

The bedroom. As stated, Tomura isn’t a very outgoing person— he won’t take you out on dates or walks in the park.

But he will sit with you in a dark room, watch movies and eat junk. (Bonus points if there’s a blow job thrown in)

His favorite place to be with you, is when you’re alone and secluded. He wants to touch you freely, to run his lips down your throat and hold you close to his chest.

He wants to grab you, to hold and be held. To feel the warmth of your body completely engulfing his own.

Truly, his favorite place to be, is wherever you’ll allow.

—

Green tea; How do they comfort their s/o?

He really doesn’t. Tomura has absolutely no idea how to deal with you when you’re upset.

If you’re angry he’ll get angry with you! He’ll wind you up and let you take it all out on whatever you so please. (as long as it isn’t him)

Expect absolutely nothing in regard to his comforting abilities. He might take you to the side and ask you what’s wrong, he may even give you an awkward hug! But that’s really all he’ll be able to do.

If you ask for space he’ll give it to you, if you ask for cuddles he’ll do his best! But overall, you’re the one who has to call the shots, and depending on what’s going on, he may just leave you to deal with it yourself. Because as stated above— regardless of how wonderful you are— you are not his top priority.

—

Russian caravan tea; How experienced are they with relationships?

NOT AT ALL. You are his first (and final) attempt at love. You’re going to get all of his fuck ups, all of his learning curves and all of his shitty disposition.

He has no idea what he’s doing, and even years down the line he still won’t fully understand. Caring for another person isn’t the most insane thing in the world— he cares for the league and it works out fine!

But loving someone?? It’s just too overwhelming at times. Taking your needs into consideration without being asked, figuring out what you enjoy and how he can add that into his already insane schedule— it’s maddening.

You’re his first everything, and you’re just going to have to be okay with that— because you’re stuck with him whether you like it or not!

—

English breakfast tea; Would they want a family?

Tomura wasn’t even looking for love when he found it— let alone a family.

I really doubt he ever thinks about it at all, he’s never been someone who cared much about what the future would bring.

That isn’t to say if you wanted a family he wouldn’t cave. He wants the people he cares about to have and do whatever they want— if for you that means starting a family with him— he’s not opposed to it.

It wouldn’t be cut and dry though, and if you never pipe up with the interest he isn’t going to either.

If you do bring it up, he’d ask a lot of follow up questions. Such as,

“Why?”

Or

“What’s the point?”

He really wouldn’t know what to do if that situation occurred, but he wouldn’t say no— he may just need to think on it for a while.

If you were to become pregnant, be it a broken condom or failed birth control— he wouldn’t ask you to terminate. You belong to him— yes— but part of being in his grasp is being able to live your life any way you want. Aside from hero work or leaving him there aren’t many restrictions.

If push comes to shove he’d enjoy having a little family of his own! Seeing himself mixed with you in a smaller, separate, body— creating something after destroying so much. It would be one of the steepest learning curves he’s ever experienced, and he wouldn’t be the most present father in the early days of vomit and diapers— but he’d be there all the same.

—

Rooibos tea; What’s their favorite thing to do with their s/o?

Cuddling. He loves to touch and be touched. He doesn’t care if you play games with him, he doesn’t care if you kill and destroy— all he cares about is the fact that you’re there with him.

He loves when you run your fingers through his tangled hair, slowly separating any knots you find. He loves the feel of his hands rubbing against your soft skin. He craves your presence and he craved the feel of you.

It’s not always sexual— but those times when he can claim you, to mark you inside and out, he truly feels like he’s the most powerful man in the world.

He’s terrified of feeling vulnerable, so he pushes you away any chance he gets, refusing to do anything with you if there’s even a chance of someone else seeing. (And sometimes that person is you)