#in the marvel one she's just trying to keep the city from fully going to shambles considering... everything...

[rescuefield-arch1]

my approach to other fandoms is claire is there and holds your muse's hand when shit gets bad

[spoilers-ahead]

okay!! now that it’s not 2am for me, i’m going to post my selkie!jason todd hc’s straight up au apparently! 

(uh. this was supposed to just be a list of hc’s but i got slightly,,,, carried away)

his selkie skin looks like an oversized red hoodie in his human form, and is just warm enough to help him survive new england winters.

when the summer heat becomes unbearable, he slings the hoodie around his waist

alternatively, he just coasts it out underwater. perks of living in a coastal city!

willis todd was a selkie. he used to tell jason stories of what it was like to swim through the big, wide ocean. of how freeing it felt. how different it is, from the smoggy, heavy air of gotham --- different, but both theirs, in their own right.

but to be honest, jason doesn’t remember much about the stories he was told, or really, anything about willis --- he had been in and out of blackgate for most of jason’s life, working for two-face to try and make ends meet, before dying. 

what jason mostly remembers, are the warnings. don’t let anybody know you’re a selkie. don’t let anybody find your skin. they will find it, and they will use it to control you. even decades later, jason would still remember those warnings. 

catherine is the one who teaches him how to swim, who helps him trial-and-error his way into putting his skin on, and learn how to make the transition seamless. 

after she dies, jason spends three months as a seal, to just... exist. forget.   

although jason technically lives on the streets, whenever he can;t find food, whenever he can’t find somewhere warm to sleep, whenever just being human becomes too unbearable, he spends the night as a seal. he ends up spending more time in the ocean, than on land.

that’s not to say he’s very good at being a seal --- he barely knows how to swim, has to learn how to fish the hard way. 

when bruce finds jason stealing his car tires, he marvels over how nice jason’s hoodie is, soft and fluffy even after all of jason’s time on the streets, especially given the condition jason is in, ribs showing from malnutrition, and the worn and raggedy shape of the rest of his stuff.

jason is skittish when he goes to live in the manor, even after a few weeks. he always adopts an expression particularly similar to a cornered wild animal around alfred in particular, alfred, who keeps on trying to take his hoodie away, purportedly to wash it.

alfred eventually gives up on trying to force jason to wash it --- he figures that as jason becomes more comfortable living at the manor, he’ll wind up telling them why he’s so protective over that hoodie, and they can work something out then. 

whenever wayne manor overwhelms jason with how big and how decadently expensive all the decor is, jason runs away, run to the ocean. 

jason doesn’t actually end up telling alfred and bruce that he’s a selkie --- bruce just has a ridiculous amount of motion alarms, which are triggered every time jason ran off. he had followed jason the third night, and saw him transform. 

bruce doesn’t tell jason that he knows, assuming that jason kept this a secret because he didn’t fully trust either of them. he would later learn that he was right in this assumption (a rare win for bruce in terms of emotional awareness)

except jason doesn’t fully trust either of them, even after a few months. bruce impulsively decides to do a few things --- a) tell jason about batman and robin and his crime-fighting secret identity, and b) tell jason he already knows about him being a selkie. 

jason is absolutely bamboozled by the fact that bruce knows, and yet hasn’t tried to take his hoodie to control him, or to stop him from playing in the ocean for a few hours. 

in fact, (under alfred’s encouragement) bruce offers to take him to the ocean during the day, so he can get “a proper night’s rest that a growing young boy such as himself would need”

jason remembers what his father told him, to never trust anyone, never let his guard down. but bruce has known about jason being a selkie for so long, and he didn’t take his hoodie or try anything. of course he can trust bruce. 

and when he tries on the robin costume for the first time, it fits perfectly. just like his hoodie, his second skin. it fits just like magic. 

oh, it’s a little loose in some places, the legacy of dick fucking grayson a little heavy sometimes, but he’ll grow into it. he’ll make himself, if he has to. 

also, jason finds the fact that even though he’s a friggin’ selkie, his callsign is a bird (a robin, no less) incredibly ironic and funny 

being a selkie is actually so useful for vigilantehood. the amount of people who talk freely, openly, and loudly about their drug smuggling plans near the ports is quite frankly, ridiculous.

honestly, towards the end of his robin years, jason remains genuinely surprised nobody catches on to him or his tactics yet. bruce is very proud.  

even though jason is safe, has been safe for three years, and trusts bruce with his life, his skin, and everything, old habits are hard to break. so he has his hoodie on when he goes to find sheila. 

and anyways, he wants to see if sheila is a selkie too. he’s taking biology right now, and they’re learning about punnett squares. jason’s never met another selkie before, other than willis who he barely remembers. there’s a possibility that sheila knows something, anything, so he has to try. 

sheila gets a glint in her eyes when jason mentions that he’s a selkie, tells him that while she’s not one herself, she’s familiar with the myth. she has long suspected that willis was a selkie, she tells him, and she’s glad to have confirmation. 

jason positively vibrates with excitement, can’t wait to ask, to pester his mother (mother!) with questions upon questions until. 

until. 

sheila doesn’t do anything after she gives him to the joker. she just smokes and smokes. and she doesn’t tell the joker about his hoodie, despite how it would have been much easier for the joker to destroy him that way. much more painful too.  

small mercies, he supposes, in between hacking coughs that brings blood bubbling up his lips. 

after he dies, his hoodie is ripped and in tatters from the crowbar, with burns along the edges from the bomb. bruce has to carefully peel it off his body. 

when jason was alive, his magic kept the hoodie in perfect condition, always. even when the rest of him was covered head-to-toe in mud, or dripping sludge from the nasty gotham sewers. 

bruce stares at the same hoodie, blood-soaked and mangled, so incredibly dissonant from how he remembered it on jason, when he was bright, whole, and alive. 

he can’t stand it. the hoodie that was so precious to jason, that was jason, at the core of him, in this state. dirty and ripped and devoid of the magic jason had exuded. 

in a moment of desperation, late at night, bruce asks alfred to teach him how to sew. he doesn’t dare to practice on jason’s beloved hoodie --- instead, he starts with the suits in his closet, grabbing the first one he sees, regardless of price. rips a hole and sews it back together over and over until he perfects his technique. 

and then he washes the fabric gently, using baby fabric cleanser and scrubbing for hours upon hours until the last traces of the deep-set brown stain from jason’s blood washes down the drain.

he painstakingly sews the scraps of fabric back together with a red thread, carefully sourced to match the hoodie to try and make it flow seamlessly like it used to. 

it doesn’t work, not exactly. despite his best efforts, the creases bruce had carefully sewn together are prominent and thick like scars, littering the  soft fabric.

so he gives up. he hangs it over the grandfather clock entrance to the cave in his study. brings it with him every time he visits jason’s grave, because he doesn’t ever want to keep jason’s hoodie away from him, but he also can’t bear for it to get ruined. 

dick visits him. a rare occurrence, these days. 

dick yells at him, as he is wont to do. 

these days, it feels like they spend more time angry at each other than not. dick says that this isn’t right. isn’t fair to anybody, not to alfred, not to himself, definitely not to jason. he rants, jason deserves to be remembered as he was in life, not frozen in death. 

perhaps he is right. bruce is not unaware of the state of violent, cutting stasis he is in, this putrefaction of his life. and he is certainly not unaware of how it is affecting the people around him. dick. alfred. the neighbor’s kid, the one who wants to be robin.   

bruce tries. not for himself, but for tim. for alfred, for dick. even for stephanie brown, who sometimes, when she smirks just right, or says something with just the right twang, he swears he can see jason in her. 

he still can’t bear to put the hoodie away, because jason deserved better than to be forgotten, so he folds it gently and places it in his closet instead. 

he also can’t bear to look at it for very long, so he forces himself to every single day. 

it’s different from the glass case that houses robin’s tattered suit in the cave --- that, is a reminder of how he failed robin. this, this is salt in a constant, stabbing, festering would, reminding him of how he failed his son. 

it was stephanie, that eventually helped him figure out what to do with the hoodie. when she was young, young enough to cry at ripped pants and skinned knees, young enough that her mother hadn’t touched the drugs yet, her mother would dry up her tears, give her a hug and a kiss on the forehead, before patching her pants up. 

what not many people know, is that before crystal brown set her mind on becoming a nurse, she wanted to be an artist, first. and so she grabs her old set of embroidery needles, and stitched little designs. dogs and cats. stars and planets. tools and gadgets. 

bruce doesn’t react, doesn’t even move, even as stephanie finishes her story. she hangs there awkwardly for a second, stares up at jason’s suit, waiting for him to respond, before shuffling towards the exit of the cave. 

thank you, spoiler, bruce manages to croak out. 

ah, yeah, she says, shrugging lightly while slouching in on herself, any time, boss. she walks out, and bruce watches her go from the reflection on the darkened computer. 

that night, he takes out jason’s hoodie, smooths it out, grabs his threads, and stitches. 

he stitches on constellations, argo navis, for jason’s namesake in the greek myths he had loved so much. a tiny seal, playing with beach balls. little books, with quotes on the sides. a robin, big and bold. 

he tries to make it as true to jason as possible, not just in death and in bruce’s memories, but as he was in life.

jason wakes up abruptly.  

he wakes up in a coffin, cold, alone, and with a gaping hole in his chest. getting dipped in the lazarus pit only made it worse, only made him all the more aware of what he was missing, all the more conscious of it. 

he doesn’t bother trying to learn how to swim with two arms and two legs, instead of two fins and a tail. it doesn’t feel the same. it only reminds him of what he’s lost. 

sometimes, on sleepless nights that happen more often than not, he wonders what would have happened if he still had a hoodie, still could swim. 

if he still was robin. 

and he doesn’t have access to the cave anymore, or to the titan’s tower, or the watchtower, and his memory of the past is still patchy and shitty in some places. 

so in a burst of impulsivity fueled by the person he no longer is, he prints out photos of robin’s costume from the internet and recreates it on his own. 

if his skin is gone, then fine. fine! he’s perfectly perfunctorily aware that nothing about this resurrection of his is natural. if he doesn’t think too much about it, he’ll be alright. his hoodie, his skin, that was something he was born with, a birthright that died with him. 

but robin, robin was something that he helped shape. robin was something that he worked for, changed himself for. 

and the makeshift robin suit --- it doesn’t fit him, not anymore. no, it feels wrong, like a child playing with their parent’s suit. or --- he realizes, perhaps more accurately, like an adult realizing they no longer fit in their favorite clothes. 

and --- and --- what was the point of it all? what was the point, of trying to make bruce proud of him, of getting dick’s approval, of trying to futilely save people over and over again from the same gallery of supervillains who keep on escaping from prison?!

and what was the point of carving out a space for himself if the joker was just going to beat him out of it, and if tim drake was going to insert himself in the hole he left behind?

and then the next thing he knows he’s in titan’s tower hitting tim drake over and over again because who let him? who let him take jason’s role as a son, as a brother, as a hero? how dare he?

but when he’s slit tim’s throat and torn the ‘R’ off his chest, jason doesn’t feel any better. the robin suit still doesn’t fit. his hoodie’s still gone. 

he’s starting to think it never will, not again. 

sometimes, when he gets tired enough to let his mind wander, he wonders what happened to his suit. 

he’s pretty sure he died with it, so either the hoodie is with the joker, batman, or... gone entirely. (it’s not like they found willis’ skin after he died. maybe selkie skins just disappear in a cloud of sea foam once they die, or some little mermaid shit like that)

it’s a cold comfort, that nobody can manipulate him now. nobody can control him --- not even batman. 

(bruce had thought about it. when he first had his suspicious regarding who the red hood was, before he knew there was any trace of the son he once had left. he thought about using the hoodie, using jason’s selkie skin to coerce him, at least to stop murdering people, to stop hurting their family.) 

(he would never go that far, in retrospect, or at least, he doesn’t think he could ever. to do that to jason, betray his trust so thoroughly and completely... but it would be a lie to say that he didn’t consider it.)

bruce reflects on this as jason reveals himself, the joker tied up at his feet with a gun pressed to his head, and venom spitting from his son’s mouth.  

but when he lifts the batarang to hit jason’s gun, or wrist, or anything that’ll force him to drop the gun, he realizes that his hands are shaking. 

and when he throws the batarang, he knows a millisecond after he’s let go, that he’s miscalculated the ricochet. 

so when jason escapes that night, bruce knows he’s fucked up. 

jason goes off the maps, completely. bruce doesn’t know where he is, if he’s safe, if he even made it out of the explosion that night. 

it takes weeks. weeks for bruce to track jason down, from meticulously documenting the dropped threads of where the red hood was pulling strings in the gotham underworld behind the scenes, to tracking security cameras with facial recognition. 

once bruce manages find where he’s staying, make sure he’s safe, he knows what he wants to do. and, he knows what he needs to do. 

jason gets a package in the mail, five weeks after his disasterous meeting with batman and the joker. unmarked, unsigned, no return address. 

when jason opens the box gingerly and carefully, he holds on to his skin for the first time in years. and then, and then, and then --- something right slots into place. his fingers brushed gently over the tiny spotted seal he knows he used to look like, the books he remembered ranting to bruce about for hours on end. 

the robin, on the top left, over his heart, big enough to have changed him, yet small enough to not define him. 

it’s not perfect. it doesn’t even fix anything, not entirely. he still fights with bruce most times he sees him, tries to punch dick in the face, steadfastly ignores tim and steph the entire time. 

but it’s something. it’s something, and the next time nightwing, batman, spoiler, and robin fight a gang on the docks, the red hood gives them a helping hand before jumping back into the ocean and swimming away.

fin!

wow this got long

[chibinasuu]

Voice Mail | Usopp x Reader

Part of the Thousand Sunny Slice-of-Life Series

Other parts: { Sanji | Nami | Usopp (here) | Chopper | Zoro }

Summary: Usopp's tone dial keeps you company during your night watch shifts on the Thousand Sunny Word count: 1,147  Tags: one-shot, fluff (maybe the tiniest smidge of angst?), domestic bliss onboard the sunny, platonic straw hat pirates x reader, no use of y/n, GN but written with F!Reader in mind

The crow’s nest went awfully quiet as the tone dial played the final note of the song stored inside it. 

You gazed out the window at the calm night sea. You could see waves lapping at the sides of the Sunny, the sound barely audible from your position on top of the foremast. On a night watch shift, a quiet night is certainly a good night. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel the loneliness of the too quiet night, especially in contrast to the rambunctiousness that was always present whenever the rest of the crew were awake. 

You picked up the dial and clicked its button again, the same song replaying for the umpteenth time that night. 

The first time you saw a tone dial was not long after you joined the Straw Hat Crew. 

You remembered gaping in amazement as an upbeat music flowed from an orange, shell-like thing that sat on the Sunny’s deck. Usopp was softly singing along to the tune as he polished Kuro Kabuto. 

Zoro similarly sat cross-legged nearby, polishing Wado Ichimonji in silence, his other two swords laid out on the ground before him. 

You crouched in the space between them, trying to take a closer look at the curious thingamajig. Usopp noticed your wonder-filled expression and grinned, “Cool, isn’t it?” 

You could only nod excitedly before fully plopping down next to him, “I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“It’s called a tone dial, see? You can record and replay sounds with it.” Usopp explained, picking up the item and showing it to you. 

“This one, I bought from a merchant back in Sabaody — that was before you joined us — but whoa, I was so surprised when I saw so many of these “TD”s on sale at the market. Brook even recorded one!” Usopp rambled on, “Tone dials used to be so rare, you know? They somehow became mainstream during the two years that we were away, so someone must’ve figured out how they worked.” 

He took one of your hands and placed the tone dial on top of it, “Here, take it! I still have the one we got from Sky Island, anyway.”

Your mind belatedly caught on to what he just uttered so casually, “H-hold on, did you just say.. Sky Island?!”

“Oh, have I not told you about that one yet?”

You shook your head, and Usopp’s smirk widened.

“Well, I guess today’s your lucky day!” He pointed his thumb towards his chest, “Let the Great Captain Usopp tell you all about his adventures in the marvelous land of Skypiea!”

Knowing the sniper’s lying and exaggerating tendencies, you discreetly glanced at Zoro, your eyes asking a silent question. A low grunt was the only confirmation he gave that Usopp was indeed, telling the truth. 

Your heart pounded in anticipation, eagerly awaiting Usopp’s next words.

“It was the middle of the day. We were sailing in the open ocean, when suddenly, Nami’s log pose pointed straight up to the sky! We were still sailing with the Going Merry then — oh, you would’ve loved her! You see, she was this stunning caravel…”

You hung on to his every word as he recounted impossible tales about the powerful knock-up stream that took them to the sky, about gods and a giant snake, and a lost city of gold. It certainly sounded like a lie, but you could tell from the sparkle in his eye that there is truth behind all those bizarre exploits. Well, at least most of it, anyway. You really doubted the bit where God Enel was ultimately defeated by God Usopp’s 5-ton hammer. 

Oh, but how you loved his stories. More than that, you loved the way Usopp tells his stories. His animated gestures and facial expressions, the sudden plot twists that may or may not be true, and not to mention the way he impersonates your other crew members, which always brings a laugh out of you. Honestly, you could listen to him talk for hours on end. 

The creak of someone climbing up the mast’s ladder pulled you out of your thoughts. Usopp crawled up through the hole on the crow’s nest metal floor, there to relieve you from your night watch shift. 

He called out, “Hey, time to switch!”

The dial was still playing its song, catching Usopp’s attention. He smiled fondly and said, “You still play that during your night shifts? You must be bored of the song by now, no?”

“Honestly, it’s getting old now after listening to it for the millionth time.” You admitted with a laugh, “But I like how it keeps away the silence, you know? It gets real quiet sometimes in the middle of the night.” 

He looked a little somber for a beat, before elbowing you jokingly, “Well, I bet you’d rather listen to my stories rather than that goddamn song, don’t ya?”

You chuckled, “That, I certainly do.” 

You wanted to stay a little bit longer – maybe you could persuade Usopp to tell you one of his stories – but you couldn’t stifle the yawn that came over you. 

Usopp noticed and proceeded to usher you towards the ladder, “Go on you sleepyhead, off to bed now. Careful on your way down!”

You slowly make your way down the mast. Usopp’s face remained visible within the opening of the crow’s nest, his watchful eyes ensuring that you reached the ground safely. 

“Dream of me!” He called down mischievously with a wave once your feet touched the deck.

A laugh bubbled out of you as you playfully blew him a kiss before heading towards your room. 

A dial was waiting for you on your next night watch shift, placed carefully on the bench. It was accompanied by a note with your name on it, written in what you know to be Usopp’s handwriting. The dial looked different from the one Usopp gave to you, so you figured this must be the one he obtained during their adventures in Skypiea. 

You curiously clicked on the button.

“Ahem.. Hey, hey, hey! It’s Captain Usopp speaking, here to indulge you with tales of my daring adventures!”

Your lips tilted up in a smile as Usopp’s lively voice flowed out of the tone dial, filling up the empty room. 

“Um, I don’t think I’ve told you about Little Garden yet, so let’s start there, shall we? Buckle up, cause you’re in for a thrilling ride! We’re going back to prehistoric times with this one. Can you believe there were dinosaurs on that island? There were also giants, and a candle man, and a bomb man…”

You sit on the bench, eyes on the seas, dutifully working as the lookout for the night whilst listening to Usopp’s crazy stories. Maybe from now on, night watches won't be so lonely after all. You may even be starting to look forward to the next one.

a/n: this ended up being longer than expected, but i had tons of fun writing it! fun fact about the tone dials, oda did confirm in an sbs that they became mainstream in the Blue Sea during the 2-year time skip. i thought that was a cool little detail, so i wrote that in :)

Other parts: { Sanji | Nami | Usopp (here) | Chopper | Zoro }

[roses-for-rosalyn]

The Patrol Tower

Chapter 4

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other chapters (ao3)

Up to this point you and Abby had gotten lucky weather-wise. It was spring and for the first few days of patrol it was a temperate 60 degrees with a soft breeze. You had solid visibility and the added benefit of the comforting warmth from the sunshine. The city was growing greener by the day, the vibrant foliage taking over the drab ruins of Seattle, it was beautiful. Spring always breathed life into those around you, hope blossomed along with the flowers. The worry for food significantly dissipated, kids got to run around outside reminding people of the hope for the future, and best of all, patrols were a hell of a lot easier. 

As soon as you and Abby cleared the distance from the field to the edge of the city clouds rolled in. Muted thunder started to echo across the landscape and lightning crackled within the dark clouds. Rain wouldn’t be far behind. 

Abby starts cursing under her breath and sighing as she leads the way into the city. You and Abby start walking a bit faster to make it to the city edge in hopes of using some of the buildings for shelter. You each had raincoats, but they would easily get soaked through. From Abby’s reaction to the rainclouds you had assumed that she, like you, had also almost contracted hypothermia because of the thin ass raincoats. 

“If the rain gets to be too much, we’ll figure out somewhere to make camp.” Abby is walking slightly ahead of you, but she doesn’t bother to turn back to talk to you. 

“I would disagree with you and say we should just keep going, but I don’t want to get hypothermia again.” Agreeing with her creates this ache inside of you, it’s almost physically painful. It causes you to grit your teeth and take a breath before continuing. As you are trying to repair your sense of dignity Abby laughs. She actually fucking laughs. It’s brief, but it’s genuine, it’s not at you either, it’s at what you had said. 

“Of course you got hypothermia from rain, but I can’t poke too much fun, I’ve come close a few times myself.” She’s… carrying on the conversation? Jesus she must be as bored as you. 

You try not to overthink it and add, “It’s these useless fucking raincoats.” Abby laughs a little again and the pleasant conversation ends there. 

You and Abby had officially made it into the city, you start walking past old businesses and corporate buildings and you can’t help but marvel at it. Your mind tended to wander when you were in the city, something in you yearned for the normalcy of before. You wanted to know what it was like to go shopping for clothes and jewelry, you imagined what it would be like to be in college. You had been told by older people at base that you were about college age. They said it came after high school, and you got to make friends and go to parties. They said it was like a taste test of adulthood before you were launched head first into a fully independent life. You think it would be nice to have some sort of preamble to independence, you really had no one to rely on for most of your life. You were fortunate enough to live where there were only a few infected scattered around at any given time. You were able to sneak past them most of the time, which was helpful. As a thirteen year old you didn’t have much of a chance against any infected. Once you got older you learned how to kill them if you needed to, but you honestly weren’t sure how you made it as long as you did. You survived practically alone for six years, occasionally bumping into groups of people, some good, some bad. The good ones always seemed to leave you in the worst ways. 

Raindrops cause you to snap out of your train of thought. You switch your backpack from your back to your front to take out the flimsy raincoat. Abby does the same, still a few paces ahead of you. It was kind of odd how she wouldn’t walk alongside you, but you chalked it down for a need for control. If she felt like she needed to lead, you weren’t going to put in the energy to argue. This part of the city didn’t have much shelter from the rain in terms of overhangs or canopies, so if the rain got any worse you and Abby would have to find someplace to wait it out. 

Of course soon enough the light sprinkle turned into a steady downpour. The raindrops collected on your bodies, quickly soaking through the thin raincoats, then your clothes. Abby is trudging on through the cold rain, her sheer determination propelling her forward. It wasn’t until she turned back to check on you and saw your teeth chattering that she started to consider stopping. You wouldn’t dare start to complain, you wanted to get back just as much as she did, but Abby saw you were starting to weaken. Your shivering was taking over your whole body, slowing you down. The way Abby looked at you was revolting. The pity on her face was clear as day, no way you were going to be the reason it took an extra day to get back to base. 

Abby stops in her tracks, turns around to face you and sighs “I think…we’re going to have to find a place to stop.” She hesitates, predicting your stubborn nature. 

“D-don’t be ridiculous, w-we can keep going.” Abby gives you a look, silently telling you to stop lying. 

“You’re shaking so hard you can barely walk. You’re allowed to get cold, you know, you’re only human.” When she says this it makes you realize she isn’t shivering at all, in fact she looks fine.

“How the f-fuck are you not cold?” You ask accusingly, the fact that she seemed unaffected by the rain was pissing you off. 

Abby just shrugs “I don’t get cold much. Now cut the bullshit and help me find a place for us to set up camp.” She starts to walk away expecting you to follow, but you stay rooted in place. 

“A-Abby I told you I’m fine. Let’s keep going please.” Abby turns back around and sighs. She begins to walk towards you, only stopping when she’s inches away from you. You can see every one of her muscles outlined perfectly through her soaked clothing. She towered over you, but you stood your ground, remaining stubbornly in place. 

“Look sweetheart, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way we end up setting up camp. Your choice.” She isn’t even phased by your difficult behavior. 

Abby was about ready to scoop you up off your feet and carry you to shelter, until you caved. “Alright,” you sigh in defeat, “Looks like there’s a good spot over there.” You gesture to a small, stand alone building. The smaller the building, the less potential for being overpowered by infected. Abby nods and begins to walk over, you hobble behind her, weakening by the minute. She was right, you wouldn’t have made it, but you would never admit that. You’d sooner collapse on the pavement than admit Abby Anderson was right. 

Eventually you and Abby end up at the front door. The blonde reaches for the door handle and pushes, and of course it doesn’t budge. Almost every door in the city has a blockade of furniture  behind it. She begins using brute force, putting her weight against the door, her muscles straining against the wood. It moves about an inch and Abby huffs in frustration. 

She turns around, scanning the building, eventually her eyes landing on a small window near the front door. “We’ll have to try that window.” She suggests, you nod vigorously, desperate to rest. Abby peers through the window trying to see if there’s any life inside. When she doesn’t see any movement she uses the butt of her gun to break open the window. Thankfully the sound was muffled significantly by the rain, making loud noises in the middle of the city was a death sentence. 

Abby crawls in first, careful not to cut herself on the glass. You follow not far behind, it takes you a bit longer due to your weakening state. Abby offers her hand as support and you’re so tired you take it without question and jump down into the house, your feet crunching against the glass. 

The building is obviously an apartment, this room is the ghost of what once was a living room and dining room. An old couch sits in the middle of the room, a few chairs scattered around it. There’s a small hallway leading to another part of the apartment, probably the kitchen. The blonde moves towards the tall china cabinet sitting in the corner of the room and gets into position to move it to block the window. Before she could start pushing a screech echoes through the building. It came from down the hallway, it was close. Abby immediately halts her movements and ushers you over to her side. You move quickly and quietly across the room, huddling against the wall. You were positioned so if anything were to come down the hallway you and Abby would see it first. Soon enough a clicker stumbles into the room, you’ll never get used to their unsettling movements no matter how many times you see them. You try to breathe, but it’s like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. The creature is darting around making unholy, hollow clicking noises and Abby is just watching, waiting. You’re frozen in fear, feeling pathetic, you can’t even get your shit together, you should be used to this by now. Your breath becomes loud, too loud. Abby looks over at you, annoyed at first, but when she sees your wide eyes and flushed face she softens. Your eyes are glued to the mindless beast, terror taking over your whole body. 

Suddenly you feel a large hand grab yours. You whip your head around and watch Abby guide your hand to her chest, letting you feel her steady breaths. Her warm skin almost shocks your ice cold hand, but the feeling of her strong, solid body against your hand almost immediately grounds you. She moves her head up and down in sync with her breathing to help you find a rhythm, her expression remaining almost neutral. She wasn’t angry or frustrated, her expression made it seem like she didn’t mind helping you, or maybe that’s just what you wanted to see. Your breathing begins to slow and Abby starts watching the clicker’s movements, your hand still on her chest. 

Abby pulls out a makeshift shiv as soon as the creature turns around and nods at you before slowly moving away from your hand and towards the clicker. You watch as she quickly impales the monster in the neck, one last chilling sound escaping from its lips. It falls backwards into Abby and she catches it under its arms. She drags it over to the window, a trail of blood marking their path. The blonde awkwardly pushes the corpse out the window before jumping out and grabbing it once again, dragging the lifeless body to the street. You watch through the window as she washes her hands clean of the blood using the steady flow of water from the gutters. 

The entire action was extraordinarily considerate, but you’re sure it couldn’t have all been for your benefit. No one wants to sleep next to a rotting corpse. 

She crawls back inside and drags the china cabinet across the room to block the window. Once it’s in its place she slides down the wall, a relieved sigh escaping from her lips. After a few seconds she manages to catch her breath. You still haven’t moved an inch, you’re just staring at Abby completely lost in your own mind, shaking like a leaf. 

“Hey,” Abby waves her hand to get your attention, you realize she has probably been trying to get your attention for a hot minute. “You okay?” she asks earnestly. 

“Yeah I’ll be fine.” You still don’t move and Abby can’t hide her concerned expression. 

“Okay.” Abby gives in, she’s not your friend so why even bother? Why should she care? Maybe it was the petrified look on your face. An all too familiar look that she has had plastered on her face throughout multiple occasions. She wasn’t always this composed, this unphased. It took years of incomparable, horrific events to make her this way, it was like calluses had formed around her being, protecting her while also keeping her from feeling. 

You remove your backpack agonizingly slowly, exhaustion taking over your body. You begin to unzip your backpack and it’s almost like you’re moving in slow motion. Suddenly a hand comes into your line of vision, snatching away the backpack. 

“What-” Your words barely come out as a whisper. If this happened under normal circumstances you would have already snatched the bag out of Abby’s hands, but currently your body could barely hold itself up.

You watch as she quickly unzips the bag and grabs out your sleeping bag. You’re immediately confused as to what she’s doing. Is she… helping you right now? She kneels down, rolls out the sleeping bag and unzips it. Abby looks at you and back at the puffy, inviting sleeping bag, indicating for you to crawl into it and fall asleep. With your eyes half closed you still manage an eyebrow raise, suspicious of her intentions. 

“Seriously?” Abby scoffs. “You can barely keep your eyes open and you're fighting me? Come lay down sweetheart, before I regret helping you out.” You sigh and reluctantly crawl into the sleeping bag. Immediately collapsing upon your body hitting the plushy fabric. Your eyes are closed, but you feel Abby gently zip up the sleeping bag. You’re too tired to consider the fact that this small action could mean she might not hate you anymore, instead you promptly fall asleep, sinking into a peaceful oblivion. 

I know it's been like a month since I last updated this, but I hope you enjoyed <3

[thecandywrites]

Monster March 2024- Day 19- Demon- Adjacent

Speed Demon

I know, it's not what I expected either, but it's cute and fun. And it's Kamoba. Which is if martial arts met obstacle courses met gymnastics, met any other high contact sport.

As always, huge thanks to @borealwrites for their Monster March 2024 Prompt List.

Monster March 2024- Day 19- Demon-Adjacent- 

Speed Demon 

Prince Brehane along with his many imperial brothers into the dragonborn quarter of Dorierra and couldn’t help but drop their jaws at the sheer beauty, size, magnitude, scale, cleanliness and opulence the quarter had. Even his own Imperial Palace paled in comparison. Even his own private palace looked like a humble farm house compared to the this. He had no idea having a whole inner country to be one big city- could work and not feel cramped or crowded, or filthy. But far from it. There were those eagerly sweeping the roads and trash receptacles everywhere so that no trash or any other litter dare touch the ground. Any piles left by horses, or greater dragons or really any other mode of animal transportation were picked up the moment they were left. But the trains that ran from district to district and out from the Dorierran City Center? Were both a of marvel of engineering, and moved at incredible speeds just though steam and to his understanding- magnets and electricity. Which they themselves had not yet learned to fully harness. This was incredibly advanced. And yet Brehane felt incredibly guilty and unworthy to call any woman from this place. How anyone who was used to this- could find contentment far away, in any other place, was practically an impossibility. 

“Come on Meharene! Or we’ll start the match without you!” Girls came and called, all of them wearing stark white armor and odd weapons that he recognized as training weapons. 

“Coming!” Came another who put her ball of mochi partially into her mouth as she put her money away while she hastily ran out of the sweet shop directly in front of him as she practically ignored him and his royal brothers and quickly ran across the busy street, using her wings that practically sprouted from her back to help her jump and fly over the lanes of traffic so she didn’t have to dip and dodge and wait for a break in the traffic to cross the street. 

Brehane practically gasped in awe as he saw the prettiest pair of feathered wings fly their owner across the street before she softly landed, despite her very voluptuous body and heavy armaments about her body as she went with her friends into a Kamoba training arena. It’s metal frame sporting new paint to keep the metal from rusting. 

Suddenly Prince Brehane did not care about taking in the sights or grow more familiar with the quarter for the week’s appointments that he had with various ladies from this quarter. All he cared about was actually seeing this Kamoba training session, and the gorgeous beauty that was about to fight in it as he managed to wait for a light in traffic to quickly cross the streets to get over to it before he came in, just as she was leaving with her group to wait their turns in the arena. 

“How can I help you?” Came a gentleman’s call from behind a desk. 

“Hi, is there, like, a ticket or something I need to buy to watch the Kamoba?” He asked as he pointed to where the doors- leading to the arena were. 

“Well if you wanted a box seat to watch as a spectator- and your refreshments brought to you, yes. But otherwise there still might be some room way up in the bleachers where watching the matches is free to watch, you can try to squeeze in there. But if you want an up close look at the competitors, I highly suggest a box, . However, if you wanted to participate, you need to go to that counter there.” The attendant offered. 

“How much for a box?” He asked before the patient gentleman on the other side pointed to the priceboard behind him. 

“Well would you want a box with unlimited refreshments or just the box and a menu to order what you want?” He asked. 

“Just the box and a menu.” He offered. 

“Ok, and how long would you like the box for? Would you like it for an hour or two or just a match? Because each match can either be done in a few minutes or take up to two hours.” He offered. 

“How many matches do we have on the board now?” Brehane asked before the guy looked to the other counter and saw the number that was currently put up. 

“Right now, there is a match and four more groups are waiting to enter. So five.” He answered. 

“Let me get the box for the five that are already up there.” Brehane offered. 

“You got it. That’ll be five danari. You’ll be in box 8, here’s your box key, your betting box and betting slips and your menus from the food court that your server can pull from. Along with a menu for the bar.” He offered as he handed him a stack of menus and a table number before Brehane handed over the danari coins and took the items and followed the signs to the door labeled “Spectators”. 

He walked down the line- behind the booths, watching bits of the battles between them before came upon the box- labeled “Box 8” and came in and sat down at the closest seat in the booth and now that he had a key to the booth- there was a sign on the door saying to keep the door open to show that the booth was being occupied. He sat next to a table and put his things down and barely got a chance to look over the menus after counting that the girl he had seen was actually two groups away from entering the arena as he could see others were putting up the names of the competitors and the teams for the spectators who could bet and wager on the fighters both in and about to leave the arena. 

A waiter came and got his orders as he ordered a nice variety of things from the different food stalls in the arena food court and a few drinks from the bar that sounded good to him before he gave the waiter his name and what palace he was staying in- since he was clearly- not a local as he was asked if he wanted his expenses for his food and drink charged to his palace or if he was going to pay for it all right then. He felt confident that he had more than enough pocket money to pay for whatever he would need here as he gave them the answer that he would be paying for things himself. 

Then it was asked if he wished to place any bets on the battles. 

And that was when he could use the waiter to learn of the beauty’s full name that he had seen in the streets. 

Meharene Jember-Bente - also known as Opal Feather- one of the many dragonborn moura with feathered wings instead of just skin as he saw that she was signed up to do a speed run. 

“What’s a speed run?” Brehane asked. 

“A speed run is a one on one battle instead of teams where the goal is to either- either win the match in five minutes- or be the first to strike a beacon, which can happen in seconds. She’s chosen to go full obstacle course speed run match. And oh, she’s facing off against the victor of the the set in front of her. That’ll be good.” He noted. 

“So…I just put my money in the box?” He asked.

“Yeah. And fill out the slip.” The waiter- Goliad offered. 

Goliad had barely left with his funds and the order before the match was won by a kill strike and an explosion of colored smoke and sparks before there was a round of applause and cheers as the competitors hugged and then helped each other wash off the paint as the arena was reset as the next group finished their stretches and began to filter into the arena, careful not to step in the newly splattered paint while the paint from their own weapons continued to drip a bit at their feet before the arena was reset as Brehane kept his eyes on Meharene as she used that time to continue to do her stretches and the slower- methodical movements on the mat with the others. Brehane could see from his vantage point that she wasn’t the only one with such pretty feathers. But he was intrigued to see that many from her group weren’t dragonborn like her. She had many others from all over the other quarters with her. She even practiced using her prehensile tail to support her full weight so she could use it as her own springboard to kick out, like a kangaroo which intrigued him before she used it to practice picking her whole body up to pull her out of being pinned down in a corner of the mat by wrapping around a pillar like a whip. 

“Do you need some help with the slip?” Goliad asked.

“Yes please.” Brehane offered before Goliad helped him fill out the slip and walked him through what the current odds were and offered he could wait to put it in now, or wait until the odds might be a bit more clear and more favorable. But Brehane didn’t need to wait and instead was happy to place his bet on Meharene now. And was congratulated for being one of the first since that was just now put on the board as his bet was probably going to set the odds. 

Brehane could only really use his own for better balance and to crudely pick things up. Or occasionally, and with great difficulty- use his own like a kangaroo- the way she did. Which would explain why her tail was so supremely and fabulously muscular. As she could practically use it like an elephant’s trunk to pick up small things like a flower that had fallen from one of the trees to gently pick it up to hand it to her as she picked it up and smelled it and twirled it in her fingertips and talk with the others as they waited for the match until the first beacon was hit and that’s what pulled all of their attention back to the arena as she was quick to offer a cheer and applause while she put the flower in her friend’s hair, behind her ear before she went and got her drink and drank whatever she was drinking down through a straw before she went back to her conversation with her group and other stretches as Brehane was outright amazed and impressed to see how limber, flexible she was, clearly doing several kinds of splits and more. Brehane could only watch on in amazement and awe at her relaxed posture and prowess as if she was waiting to go to lunch or something. 

If he were in her shoes, he would have been just as anxious as he had been before all of his battles. But maybe she was relaxed because she knew her life wasn’t on the line. And she wasn’t about to fight for her life. Probably why she was relaxed before the second beam was set off and suddenly it was her and her friends coming to see who had set it off before Brehane’s food and drink was brought to him. Just in time for the third of the five beacons were set off. 

“Oh, now it’s on. Last two.” Goliad offered as he set the food and drinks down. 

“Anything else?” Goliad asked. 

“No, do you I pay you now or…?” Brehane asked. 

“If you think this is all you’re gonna be needing or wanting. Do you think that drink will last you through eating all of this through the next 3 matches?” Goliad asked. 

“No, I don’t suppose it would.” Brehane answered. 

“Let me get you another refill on your drink, just in case.” Goliad offered before he left and returned a few moments later with the drink before he left again to return to the other boxes to see if any of his other guests needed anything before he returned to a special booth that he and the other servers could both keep an eye on the Kamoba training battles and their guests to see if they would be needed as Brehane couldn’t help but notice that all the waitstaff had been male. But he supposed in a country that prided itself on it’s bride program, the young men would work, while women trained or did whatever they wanted while they waited for “husbands” to come to them. 

Within a few moments though, the other two beacons were hit as the victors cheered the loudest while the others clapped while the losers were gracious in their defeat and still offered hugs and congrats as they were happy it was over and could leave the match and begin to cool down and clean up the paint from their leather armor before the two “winners” were put on the board to face off against Meharene. Which he thought was unfair. But the odds for her to win suddenly quadrupled as he wondered if he should have waited to put the money on her. But at the same time, if she could face off against two openants- she deserved to have any mate she wanted in the whole wide world while the two winners were now- looking a bit anxious as they waited by the side, eager to see how Maharene would fair. 

“Is there anything else you’ll need?” Goliad asked. 

“That Lady Jember Bente is now not only going to face off  in the arena, but also face off against two opponents after?” Brehane asked before Goliad still snorted a laugh. 

“Isn’t that a bit unfair?” Brehane asked.

“What’s unfair?” Goliad asked. 

“Is this your first time watching Meharene fight?” Goliad asked. 

“Yes, this is the first time I’m getting to see any kind of Kamoba battle, we just came into Dorierra yesterday.” Brehane offered. 

“Ah, ok. Then you should probably know that Meharene is one of the best fighters in the District. She’s in the top 5 fighters in the district. And in the top 100 for the nation. She has faced off against multiple opponents before and been just fine. Honestly, she’s one of the more sure bets we will have today. Don’t worry, you’ll be most likely getting your money back and then some.” Goliad reassured him. 

“I don’t care about the money, I’m…I’m more concerned for her safety. Facing off two to one is no mean feat. Especially with all of these variables.” He tried to say. 

“Have…have you not come to know about her? You just…walked in and put a bet on her? Just…a blind bet? Not knowing anything about her, just taking one look at her and placing a bet on her?” Goliad asked. 

“Well…when you say it like that, I can see how that’s odd.” Brehane admitted. 

“Yeah, just give her name to your match director, and he’ll try to set up a meet with her while you’re here. Hopefully she might have a spot still open for you.” Goliad offered. 

“Is she married?” Brehane felt the need to ask.

“No. But I believe her schedule is still open to meet potential grooms. You could always apply to meet with her.” Goliad offered.

“Really?” Brehane offered. 

“Would I be able to meet her outside of that?” Brehane asked. 

“Yeah, what you could do, is offer that should your bet prove out, you could award her your winnings, I can guarantee that she’d come by to at least say thank you.” Goliad offered. 

“Even if she doesn’t win, even if I lose it all. I’d like to meet her if at all possible.” Brehane offered. 

“Well, usually there is a price for a meet and greet with the competitors of 10 danari.” Goliad told him before Brehane readily reached into his purse and grabbed a handful and gave Goliad the whole handful that had to be at least 50 danari. 

“This should definitely cover it.” Goliad smiled before he left again and quickly went down to the arena to write out a special message on a board for Meharene to see that was under the the platform that the booths were on as he wrote down that the guest in box 8 wanted to meet with her after her matches on the board under that box where those in the curved theater wouldn’t be able to see- but the competitors could as it seemed the competitors gave that message and the others on the other boards a glance as Maharene nodded to Goliad that she had read and agreed to the message before he put all the coins into her prize purse before he quickly cleared the message out and went back to the booth just as the match commenced. 

“She agreed to meet you. She’ll be up once she’s done and cleaned off.” Goliad offered. 

“Thank you!” Brehane offered happily as he rather ignored his food and was happy to lean his arms over the bench and watch intently as it seemed Meharene had three opponents against her as it was clear- from the formation that Meharene was supposed to advance and be the one to ignite the beacons. And with lightning fast speed, the gong had barely been struck to signal the start of the fight as she practically mowed the three of them down, and ignited the first then second daggers as she used her tail to lift her up to the second story before the three could try to pile onto her as they were now eagerly climbing the beams to get to her on the beams on the roof while her teammates were eager to send another to the third beacon before Meharene ran across the beams like she was running across the floor before she used her tail to hold onto the last beam and dropped down to pull someone off of her teammate to keep her teammate from being overpowered before a third hit the third beacon before it was a race for everyone to get to the rafters above the obstacle course as her teammates were eager to hit the remaining beacons as she used her tail to swing her backwards as she used her hands and feet and tail to flip and slip from one end to the other and then to the top of the roof and then- up the other obstacles to the last beacon sitting on the top as the other teammates were also trying to get up to it as she used her own weight to counterbalance another to propel her friend up to the last beacon as the friend jumped and managed to hit the beacon before the other team could get there to defend it as she used her own wings to float down to the beams again as her teammates celebrated their victory as Meharene got ready for her speed battle as the other two were obviously, very, nervous as they took up the stage with her as the beacons were reset. 

“Please go easy on us ok?” They requested. 

“Of course, it’s just a game.” She shrugged off and waived them off as she pulled out her real sword and blew fire onto it before she used her hold onto it to show how it was actually two swords in one as she had a lighted sword in each hand. The other two tried to simply light their own swords on fire from hers. 

The gong’s sound didn’t even stop ringing- and all anyone really saw was a blur of white and fire and barely heard the swords clang together as Meharene had thrown three daggers in rapid succession with just her tail to win the match as she kept both opponents at bay with her two swords as the three beacons practically exploded in succession before the gong had to be hit again. 

“Holy fucking shit!” Brehane exclaimed in utter and complete awe as the match barely took but one or two seconds. 

“Oh thank the gods.” The other two immediately practically removed their swords from hers and bowed in respect before they were quick to blow out the flames and then get hugs from Meharene. 

“Good match, thank you for not making it hurt worse.” They thanked her as they accepted hugs from her. 

“No problem.” Meharene smiled as she helped her teammates finish cleaning up before she got herself put back together and got her winnings and had to look inside to see the whole thing practically stuffed with two months worth of daily wages for just a match that barely lasted a few seconds before she came up and got congratulations from the others in the other boxes who wanted to congratulate her on her victory while the others were happy to offer their congratulations. 

Then she finally made her way to box eight as Brehane was standing at the box’s door to meet her. 

“Congratulations Lady Jember-Bente.” He offered. 

“Thank you for your vote of confidence.” She answered as she readily shook hands with him. 

“No problem at all, would you like to come inside, I just ordered some food if you’re hungry. And the waiter should be coming soon if you would like a drink.” He offered as he gestured to the food, still untouched and still practically steaming still on his table. 

“We just got in yesterday.” He answered. 

“Sure.” She accepted as she came in and sat on the other side of the table.

“So, how long have you been in the country?” She asked as she sat down and began to get a little off of every dish he ordered and onto one of two empty plates that the waiter had left for her. 

“We? Who is we?” She asked. 

“Oh, myself and my imperial brothers…” He began before he listed his brothers off. 

“I see. So are you looking to get into the Kamoba Sport or you just wanted to meet with a Kamoba champion?” She asked. 

“Ugh, really I just wanted to meet you, in particular, before you were a champion or anything. I saw you outside, you were getting mochi before the match but I didn’t get a chance to try to come up to you and greet you before you were pulled into this place and then you were getting ready for your match.” He tried to excuse. 

“I see. Well…what was your name again?” She asked. 

“My name is Brehane.” He offered. 

“And how long are you here for?” She asked. 

“At least two weeks.” He offered. 

“And where are you coming from?” She asked. 

“Simmeret.” He answered. 

“Simmeret, like…north east of Yeshi - that Simmeret?” She asked. 

“Yes, that Simmeret.” He confirmed. 

“Of course.” She nodded as she was quick to eat her little bites of what she had put onto her plate. 

“Wow, that must have been quite the journey.” She mused.

“It was, but well worth it.” He nodded. 

“Well, it was lovely to meet you- Brehane. But if you will excuse me, I have a meeting with another suitor this afternoon that I have to get ready for. I hope your trip here has been well worth the trouble.” She offered after she cleaned her plate, and shook hands with him again and then quickly continued on to get congrats with the others down the set of boxes before she went down the stairs and rejoined her friends who were waiting for her outside as she was quick to use her money to get herself and her friends a carriage to take them home so they didn’t have to walk all the way home. 

“So? Who paid for our ride home?” Her friends asked her. 

“Prince Brehane of Simmeret. He bet 10 danari on me. And then paid extra just to meet me after the battle.” She answered. 

“And?” They offered. 

“And what?” Meharene returned. 

“And is he going to be a courtier?” They asked. 

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I don’t remember seeing him on my schedule.” She shook her head no.

“Well maybe he’ll show up on your schedule tomorrow.” They offered. 

“Ok.” She sighed before she paid her driver and then walked the rest of the way home, her humble, modest home, doubting very much that anything was ever going to change.

“Doubt it. Guys like that, see girls like me and think of conquering a champion, not marrying a wife. He’ll sleep on it and then probably decide against it in the morning. Or if he does schedule it today, he’ll end up cancelling tomorrow afternoon after he meets his future bride tomorrow morning.” Meharene muttered with a sigh and a pout out of the window.

“Don’t give up hope yet, ok?” They tried to encourage her as their carriage came to their stops. 

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: Genesis —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: In the og plot, Peter and Cat end up getting back together, but after NWH I thought Parker’s storyline fitted Cat’s journey better, and even if both Peters are a good match for her, I like this version more -Danny

P.S: Idk if you noticed but the dividers (they’re beepers, in case you hadn’t noticed) change depending on the universe we’re in, I thought that was a fun thing to do.

Words: 1,892

Phase Six Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: 'No Big Deal (I Love You)' -by dodie

xxxix: Cat’s Path

Peter finished the beeper on the same day summer came to an end. Cat was too scared to try it out just like that, so unceremoniously. She asked him to wait a day, she needed to do something first.

"Call me superstitious, but I really have to do it."

"You really have to get drunk with your ex and his two friends in a shitty bar?"

"Bucky, last time I checked you were not invited to this conversation," she hissed. "Get out of the lab!"

"Lab," he scoffed. "This is a basement, we should've turned it into a pool room."

"We have one in the attic," she lied. "You're just not invited because you cheat."

"Newsflash asshole, everyone cheats when they play pool!" He replied, standing up and looking around. "Where the hell is the attic?"

Cat ignored him and turned to Peter and Wanda. "So?"

Wanda shrugged. "Use it now or next year, I don't see a difference."

"I have to go back to the city tonight, though," Webs reminded her. "College, remember?"

"I'll drive you back," she nodded.

"Do you have a license?" Bucky asked as he walked past them.

"Do you? Didn't it expire like half a century ago, Grandpa?"

"Keep walking," Spider-man pushed her forward.

Cat texted Foggy and got a response in less than a minute. She left Peter in his apartment so he could pack up the stuff he needed for Monday, and then she went to Josie's ready to hang with some old friends.

"There she is!" Foggy called out. "Come here, you!"

Cat smiled at the trio, she hugged each of them tightly. "Hi! How's your week going?"

"We desperately needed an excuse to drink," Foggy groaned. "Thank God you texted me."

"But not really," Matt smiled in that playful way of his. "You're leaving, right?"

Karen and Foggy looked at her expectantly, she'd told them that, eventually, she would not be around again. They had taken it well, Cat hadn't been around that much anyway. It was bittersweet, realizing she was free because she hadn't lived at all in the past.

"Webs finished the gizmo," she nodded. "I'll leave tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Karen stared at a corner, but her gaze seemed to go for miles. "So... this is goodbye?"

"No," Matt eased her, squeezing her hand. "We're not that lucky."

She kicked his foot. "Jerk."

It started raining as they left the bar. Foggy and Karen shared a cab like usual not before wishing her the best of luck, hoping to see her again one day, though probably not any time soon. Matt and Cat were left alone, so she offered to walk him home. Or run, to be precise.

They turned it into a small competition, to see who could reach his building first. For a moment she was reminded of their patrols: running blindly, Cat's pulse racing at the feeling of freedom she'd get from it. She won the race, but she had the feeling Matt had let her as a farewell gift.

She accompanied him to his apartment, and Matt gave her a towel. "Thanks! I should pick up Spidey from his apartment, we were supposed to be back before midnight, Edith goes crazy when we break curfew at home..."

Matthew grinned. "It's the first time I hear you call someplace home like you mean it."

She thought of it, it was true that it was the first time she meant it as fully as then. That mansion felt more like home than any other place, even the Stark Tower. It felt that way because everyone in it she loved, and the best part was that they loved her too.

When Cat handed him the tower, their fingers brushed. Her heart squeezed with a strange yearning, it all had been so brief and intense between the two... and yet nothing had been left behind, just the certainty that they had never been destined to last.

"You'll look after yourself, right Matthew?" She asked fondly.

He smiled a little, placing the wet towel over his shoulders. "You first."

She chortled, then gave him a hug. "I'll see you again."

"I'm counting on it," he kissed her cheek. "In the meantime... be happy."

"You can count on that too."

"Just get it over with!"

"Shut up!" Harley glared at her. "Webs?"

"I'm ready," he tapped the device on his wrist.

"This is so exciting!" Kate said giddily, holding a projection of Kurt and Rocket, who wanted to be present to send Cat off.

"Hi, hi! I'm just here in case there is dismembering," Yelena stepped into the room, casually eating a fistful of popcorn from the bowl she was carrying.

"Good luck, C.C.," Wanda hugged her. "If it works... we'll see you next summer?"

"You have my word," Cat looked around the room at all the people present. In the end, it seemed she wasn't so terrible at keeping friends around. "See you!"

A choir of replies followed. Peter stood next to her holding a box, she was holding another one. Felix was purring happily on Bucky's vibranium arm, Cat was going to miss her pet, but he didn't like Parker, maybe the cat had always known that he would make her go away.

"Ready?"

"Yes. Mouse, take us to Parker."

The artifacts on their wrists turned on with a light-blue glow, and the familiar tug under her feet pulled her onto a whirlwind of colors. Peter was next to her, but she couldn't hold onto him, instead, she hugged the box in her arms.

They landed on a rooftop that Cat immediately recognized. "We did it!"

Peter stumbled, almost dropping the box in the process. "Oh god, how are you used to that?"

"I've done it many times," she lightly kicked his foot, pointing ahead. "See that? That's an entrance, we can use it."

Peter snuck inside the skylight and she passed him the boxes before entering herself, she entered in one push and landed swiftly in the middle of the bathroom.

"Where do I put these?" Peter took off his mask and dried the sweat off his forehead, then picked up her boxes and looked around.

"Parker's closet," Cat walked past him and opened the bathroom door.

The entrance door opened and May walked in holding a bag of groceries, Parker followed right after. Cat and Peter froze, Parker tensed when he saw the movement out of the corner of his eyes, but his worry quickly turned into happiness as he saw her.

"JANE!"

He dropped the grocery bags in the kitchen and got to her faster than she could process it. He held onto her so tightly she couldn't breathe, or maybe she was so overwhelmed that her body shut down entirely.

"I told you I'd find a way," she choked out.

Parker kissed all over her face, and then stopped abruptly, remembering Peter and May were still there. He looked at the older woman first, eyes brimming with tears. "Aunt May..."

"Welcome back, Cat," the woman beamed. "I knew I'd see you again."

The girl realized she'd used her real name— well, Jane was also her name, but May knew Jane wasn't her only name... so that meant...

Cat looked at Parker. "You told her."

He dried his tears, chuckling. "I figured that if you were going to live in both universes, I'd have to come clean. I didn't want to be lying every summer. Or ever again, for that matter."

"May," Peter said weakly.

Cat gave a start, she'd forgotten about him for a moment, but now she was acutely aware of his presence, just like she was also aware he was facing an alternate version of his deceased aunt.

The old woman looked at him with a soft smile. "You must be Peter..."

Peter's eyes filled with tears. The woman left her own bag in the kitchen to give him a hug. "It's alright, my nephew told me all you did for him and Jane... you're a good boy. I'm sorry about your May... I'm sure she'd be as proud of you as I am of my Peter."

He clung to the woman for a moment, and Parker wrapped his own arms around her from behind, leaning his cheek on the top of her head. She had the suspicion he wasn't going to let go for a long time.

Once Peter calmed down —and once he drank and ate a refreshment prepared by none other than May herself— he was ready to leave. Parker went with May to get a taxi and give them a bit of privacy.

"Well, how's that for a late birthday present?" Cat smiled at her friend.

Peter embraced her tightly. "I have you to thank for that."

"Nah, it wasn't me who built the gizmo, was it? That was all you. You built the beeper in the first place... it's always been you, Pete. Not in the way I thought it'd be at first, but just as important."

He laughed. "Yeah..."

She cupped his face. "Don't be afraid to enjoy the little things, Pete. I got scared, and I wasted many of 'em. Learn from me like you've always done." Peter stared at her weirdly, and she frowned. "What?"

"I was thinking of all the times I insisted there was good within you," he said. "I think they're no longer just within."

Cat buried her face in his shoulder and took a deep breath, joy filling every bit of her body. "We would've been too much for the world together, that's why they had to part us."

"For sure," his voice quivered. "We were so good together that we broke the universe twice."

Parker sat next to her on the couch, his knee bumped against hers. "All good?"

She looked up with a sleepy smile. "Yeah, I just... I'm trying to take it all in... That this can be the rest of my life if I want it to be."

"Do you?"

"Maybe. You'll have to give me time to think, to explore what this world has to offer. I think I'd like to study to be a middle school teacher."

He smiled. "I think you'd be a great teacher."

"Thank you."

"But I'm worried about letting you teach some kids basic maths, though, you're not the best person for that."

"Hey!" She poked his ribs, Parker seized her hand and pulled her closer. "I was good at Middle school maths! Must I remind you I was tutored by the best in the field?"

"Right, it's the advanced stuff you can't handle."

"I can, I just despise them."

"Valid. I despise Geography."

"Valid."

They looked at each other not quite believing their eyes. There was so much affection floating around them, and yet she was hesitant to vocalize it, it felt like cheating, blurting out words just cause she'd said them once or twice. She promised to wait until they felt genuine and from her heart.

In the meantime, she would spend every day showing Peter she meant them the first time, even if she didn't say it. Cat still had trouble trusting her feelings, but she trusted him, and she believed she could do anything as long as he was there to keep her company.

"So tell me," Parker shifted on the couch so they could huddle closer together, her back against his chest. "Where had you been this whole time?"

Cat knew he meant the last couple of months, but her mind took her way back, and it broadened the question. Where had she been this whole time? She'd been making friends, and losing them just as fast, she'd been in and out of teams, of planets, and of herself.

The mutant reached for his hands and intertwined their fingers. She tilted her face up and planted a kiss on his cheek. "On my way here."

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

@mikaelsonwhxrebae @ieatpanicattacksforlunch​​​​​​​​​​​​ @jesuswasnotawhiteman​​​​​​​​​​​​ @siriuslysirius1107​​​​​​​​​​​​ @greengarsstuff​​​​​​​​​​​​ @itsyagirl01 @23victoria​​​​​​​​​​​​ @espressopatronum454​​​​​​​​​​​​ @jkthinkstoomuch @slytherinnqueen​

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter One: Welcome To The Neighborhood

You're Not Alone

Peter Parker x Gwen Stacy

Summary: Morning interrupted by the sounds coming from next door, you find yourself bumping into your new neighbor.

Warnings: None?

Words: 600

A/N: Admittedly, I'm not too much of a Marvel girl, but this concept immediately entered my brain when I watched Spiderman: No Way Home, and I really felt like this would be nice to write, especially as I continue to discover more and more about this city, their troubles, and go through life in similar circumstances every day. Added to that, I don't know too too much about Gwen, so there may be a few things that don't entirely line up with certain adaptations of her.

It was the third bang that brought you out of your personal bubble to assess the situation. Opening the door, headphones lifted off one ear while the other still plays the alternative rock song on your phone. Your eyes dart to the tilted couch stuck within the neighboring apartment’s doorway.

Panic sets in his eyes as awkward tension fills the air. “Ah, I’m so sorry about this! I hope I didn’t disturb you, I’m, uh… in a predicament,” the man’s voice dies down as his brown eyes gesture to the couch still stuck in the doorway. “As you can probably see,” he chuckles, a nervous hand rubbing the back of his neck for a second. He suddenly drives back into action, hand moving to another spot on the couch, the other still supporting it from just above where his knee keeps it in place.

“I mean, not really-” you’re honest, though try to save him the blow. He seems nice enough, plus–whoever this is–he’s your new neighbor it seems. “-do you need help?” Eyes shifting from his gaze down to the oddly contorted couch stuck between the plywood, you decide that his body language signals an obvious yes.

“I’ll grab this side, and what if we just-” taking his previous place, the man ducks under the lifted corner of the couch and rounds the bit of couch already a third of the way into his apartment. “Level it like this-?” With an easy shift to lie it on its wider side, he follows suit, so the couch is no longer jammed between the doorway. Instead, simply lying on its side. “Now it should fit!” On an agreed: 3… 2… 1! Both of you get to work; him pulling, you push it fully through the door. Luckily, there’s enough room inside to set it upright, leaving it up to him where to place it.

A relieved sigh escapes his lips, and he rights himself again, an easy smile gracing his lips. “Thank you so much, I’m… not really used to doing this stuff by myself just yet,” he pauses, emotions crossing his face momentarily, yet are too quick to decipher fully. “I’m Peter Parker! And you are?” He questions, hand outstretched with a renewed vigor.

“Gwen… Stacy. Gwen Stacy,” you respond skeptically, cautiously extending your hand for a gentle yet firm shake of the hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, neighbor,” he jokes. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around then?” As his eagerness dies a little, the previous worry lines re-stretch across his forehead. “I’ve got this, don’t worry. I’m stronger than I look!” The concerned look upon her face elicits another reassurance, “Really, I’ve got it.”

This time he manages to elicit a quiet chuckle, and you now find yourself being the awkward one. “Alright! You don’t have to tell me twice. And, I suppose so. Let me know if you need anything.” It’s a cordial gesture, nothing more, a supposed welcoming to the fourteenth floor of the Bowery Heights Complex.

“Like a cup of sugar, perhaps?”

The small attempted smile on his lips accompanies a genuine laugh this time. With a shake of your head, a smile of your own mirrors his. “Sure, a cup of sugar. With that, it was nice meeting you, Peter Parker.” A lazy wave between the two ends their conversation. Gwen heads back toward her apartment to get back into her daily meditation as she’s in the process of getting ready for work.

[ikesenwritings]

I saw your hc request open. Can I request for Arthur's babysitting his baby with the ikevamp boy while mc and comte is not home because of some business. Can you start with the scene where mc was at the room getting ready with Arthur and mc ask if he's okay babysitting their babygirl. and add on a scene where Arthur's baby lost when the other was busy with the baby supply and they found her at Mozart's room while he was there playing a lullaby for her. and mc coming back home saw Arthur talking to the baby and went to sleep because of tiredness with mc kissing him ><

A/N: I’m so sorry this took forever!!!! I had a lot of fun writing this one :)

-

[HC] Arthur with his baby when MC and Comte are out of the mansion

Content Warnings: None

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m out for the day? Le Comte told me that it was okay to reschedule.”

As she asked Arthur for confirmation for what seemed like the dozenth time that morning, MC was sifting through the drawers, looking for something to bring her outfit all together

“Don’t worry, poppet.”

The writer appeared behind his beloved and dangled a maroon ribbon in front of her face

“I found it,” Arthur whispered and tied a bow into her hair.

His hands then came into view, a gentle caress along her cheeks as Arthur turned MC’s face around and pulled her close to him

A string of kisses as quick as his heart beat for MC on her lips, nose, and forehead

“Like I said, it’s okay. You deserve this. Allow the old man to treat you for the day. God and everyone in this mansion knows just how marvelous you are in everything you do—helping Sebas, raising our beautiful baby, and looking out for this old chap.”

“I guess you are pretty old,” MC quipped, a gentle smile resting on her face.

“Oh, that’s what you chose to take away from my words of encouragement?”

Just then, the sound of their baby crying alerted both parents

“Go, MC. I’m sure Le Comte is waiting for you. I’ve got this.”

After the two bid goodbyes and exchanged quick I love you’s, Arthur took care of his baby girl—a spitting image of her mother, thank the lord, he always thought

It was now the late afternoon, and after six hours of babysitting his own daughter, Arthur looked quite disheveled, almost like he was beginning to lose a game he’s never lost

And we all know, he’s never lost

Just how did MC manage to do this?!

Arthur was always always sure to carry the same amount of weight, if not more at times, when parenting but there were days when he would venture out into the city and when he returned to the mansion?

MC looked fine as a fiddle!

Maybe MC was a little right in having her hesitations, perhaps Arthur needed a little more time before looking after the baby by himself…

But for god’s sake, he was a doctor in his past life!

Surely, Arthur can survive the rest of the day intact, thinking of new ways to entertain the nine-month-old baby and keep her from crying or spitting up or…

CRAWLING AWAY

Oh, guy was in panic mode

Remember when Arthur was always calm and sensible when solving all those mysteries with MC?

Throw that out the door. Far. Away.

Arthur swiftly put the milk down on the kitchen island and hoped that his baby girl would magically appear on the floor even though he’s circled the perimeter of the room five times already

“What in heaven’s name are you doing? Are you trying to catch a rat?”

“Newt, my old boy! I require your assistance. I seemed to have misplaced my daughter…”

“What?!”

“She’s very adept at crawling!”

“Can she crawl up stairs? Or rather down?”

“…I’m not sure…bullocks…”

Picture this: five men—one, who really is about to have a panic attack if they don’t find the baby—in their silly garb scouring the mansion, looking for an adorable little girl

The five men in question: Arthur, Isaac, Vincent, Theo, and Napoleon

“Wait… do you hear that?”

Napoleon stood atop the stairs, his hearing fully dedicated to the goings-on down the long stretch of rooms

“Napoleon, it’s just Mozart,” Theo answered after a moment.

On cue, a string of nonsense in the form of babbling erupted from not too far away, and the boys made a beeline for the musician’s practice room

But with Napoleon, who was leading the march, knew better than to burst into the room like a bunch of Neanderthals, and halted just before Mozart’s door, causing the others to knock into each other like dominos

“You can come in. I heard those obnoxiously loud footsteps coming a mile away.”

Arthur entered the room and relief melted his anxious frame like butter on a pan, a rather audible sigh escaped his lips

There she was

His baby girl sitting on the floor beside the piano, clapping and attempting to sing as Mozart siphoned through his 12 variations of Ah vous dirai-je, Maman

“How long has she been here?!”

“Not long, twenty minutes maybe… she’s quite cute, Arthur. But as politely as I can, get her and all of you out of my practice room.”

“Touchy touchy, Wolfie.”

“Honestly, Arthur, stop bothering the bloke,” Isaac insisted.

By the time MC returned to the mansion, it was half past nine and Arthur was well on his way to passing out

Upon returning to their shared room, MC found Arthur and a wall of pillows barricading their daughter on the bed as he lazily mumbled stories of Kit Holmes, a new character he deemed more admirable than one Sherlock Holmes

MC’s heart could burst at the sight!!

“Arthur, I’m home, my love.”

MC cradled her baby for some time before placing her in the crib, leaving Arthur to fall in and out of sleep as she got ready for bed

When MC finally rested beside her husband, she noted, “You look pretty spent. Did you have an exciting day, Arthur?”

“Mmm, very.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

There was only love in her expression as MC gazed upon Arthur’s face, his closed eyes and slightly parted lips making him look so at peace

She placed a soft kiss on his lips before grinning, “A little birdy told me you lost our daughter in the mansion today?”

Arthur’s eyes shot wide open

“Mozart? No. Leonardo. Those damn pureblood powers of his.”

[demonsandmischief]

Doubts

A Chris Evans Imagine

Chris Evans x Female Reader, 1.1K Words

Angst Alert

-Doubts-

A female actress mentions having a relationship with your boyfriend, Chris Evans, and doubts begin to form.

----

"I'm here with Lindsey Jordan and Chris Evans who are the lead roles of this upcoming movie," the talk show host says into the camera.

You couldn't help the small smile that automatically formed on your face as you caught a glimpse of your handsome boyfriend. He had been so busy lately, so you took any chance you got to see him, even if it was through a TV.

Lindsey Jordan was a beautiful brown haired, blue eyed actress who could honestly be a super model. Chris had briefly mentioned that she was pretty nice to work with.

You continued washing your dishes, not fully giving the interview your attention.

"Now Lindsey, what was it like working alongside Chris?"

"It was amazing. Chris is such a sweet guy, and I think we really formed a connection," she had a perfect smile plastered on her perfect face.

"You know, I think a good friendship is what makes the on-screen relationship so realistic," Chris said, easing the doubt that was winding in your gut.

Lindsey gave a beautiful laugh, placing a manicured hand on Chris's shoulder. "He's downplaying. But yeah, we really hit it off."

The interviewer smiled, "I have some pictures here. I have to say you guys are the cutest couple."

The plate you were holding dropped into the sink with a loud clatter.

Pictures appeared behind them on the stage. It was Lindsey and Chris kissing on set. It looked more for the movie.

Another was one that looked like a paparazzi photo of them walking hand in hand in LA.

Your heart plummeted to your feet.

"That's all the time we have. Catch their movie in theaters-" you shut it off.

You knew your relationship was too good to be true. How long had this been going on for?

The talk show was filmed in New York City, and Chris should already be on his way back home to Boston. He would probably want to see you. What were you going to do? What were you going to say?

Even if he weren't in a relationship with Lindsey, you were holding him back. You were just a nobody.

You brushed away the first set of tears and swallowed the sob that threatened to break free.

Your phone buzzed with a text message, waking the screen so the lock screen photo of you and Chris being all cuddly was visible.

You loved him with all your heart. He was such a sweet, down to earth guy, and you trusted him.

There was something different about this though. It was putting your worst fear into light. Did Chris even think about how you would feel when you saw it? He knew you liked to watch his interviews. He could have given you a heads up.

He always texted or called you when he was traveling. The radio silence only added to the fear that was digging its claws into your chest.

You decided finally after some more years that you just wanted to be left alone. You silenced your phone and made your way to your bedroom.

The sounds of the TV playing old reruns of your favorite show comforted your fragmented mind. You wished you could just turn your thoughts off and sleep the rest of the day.

You were startled from your light dozing to knocking on your front door.

You groaned, tempted to ignore it, but decided to get up. You had been ignoring your phone after all. What if it was an emergency? Except, you knew full well who it was.

Chris Evans stood on your doorstep, looking casual and handsome as usual. His blonde hair was ruffled and his eyes were hidden behind sunglasses that he pulled off.

"There's my girl," he smiled a sweet smile that melted and broke your heart. "I tried to call but you didn't answer." He reached for you but you took a step back.

"What's the matter? Are you sick?" His smile dropped to concern as he took you in. "Have you been crying?"

He reached for you again and this time you let him as the sobs you had been holding in finally released into one big breakdown.

His warm arms pulled you to his chest as he rubbed your back. "What happened, baby?" he whisper, shushing and rocking you gently. "Shh, it's gonna be okay."

The sobs lessened to hiccups and Chris wiped away the tears with the pads of his thumb. "I've never seen you cry like this, Y/N. Please tell me what's going on."

"I saw that interview with Lindsey," you tried to pull away from his embrace but he held on.

"Then you saw how I was trying to deflect her advances, right?"

"But the pictures," you protested. "You were holding her hand." It sounded stupid and insecure, even to your own ears. You wanted to curl up under the blankets and hide away.

"Come on now, she saw the paparazzi and grabbed my hand. It was a publicity stunt, that's all. That's why I can't stand LA."

You pulled away again and this time he let you. "I thought you said she was nice?" you mumbled, wiping the tears with your palm and you gave a sniffle.

"Doesn't mean she didn't have other motives," he shrugged. He moved towards your couch and you trailed behind him.

"I missed you so damn much. Come here," he demanded, giving a yawn as he stretched out.

You moved closer and he didn't hesitate to tug you to his chest.

"I wouldn't be mad if you wanted to be with her though," you whispered, not able to meet his eyes.

Chris sighed, "Nobody even compares to you. You're my everything."

He played with your hair as he continued to speak, "Don't doubt my feelings for you, baby. You know I wouldn't cheat."

"I know that, but you're on, like, the top ten hottest men list. It makes me doubt."

He chuckled, kissing your cheek with an affectionate nuzzle.

"You don't need to worry. All you have to do is talk to me, you know that? I love you."

"I love you," you said back as he brushed his lips with yours.

You settled on his chest, your eyes drooping as your body lagged from the stress of the day. Why were you even worried in the first place?

"You shouldn't ignore your boyfriend. It isn't very nice," he pouted after a moment.

"I'm sorry," you craned your neck to kiss his jaw.

"Why are you looking at the top ten hottest men?"

You giggled slightly, meeting his loving and shining blue eyes. "Who's having doubts now?"

----

Masterlist

Tags: @nyx2021 (general) @bklynxbaby (marvel) @missroro (marvel actors)

A/N: Remember engagement is my encouragement to keep writing! Please give a like or reblog or tell me what you think. I'd love to hear from you. :)

[robininthelabyrinth]

Imagine if Meng Shi begged and bargained and collected favors till she was able to send her A-Yao to education with the Lan Sect, perhaps even become a cultivator with them. Would he take that change? Would he become a rogue cultivator? Would the strict rules help curb his inner muderimpuls or enrage him or teach him to hide better?

A Good Fit - ao3

“The…Lan sect?” Meng Yao said doubtfully. “Are you sure?”

“I am sure,” his mother said, her mouth tight. She looked upset, the way she always did these days when he referenced, intentionally or otherwise, the original plan that she had had to send him to join his father, sect leader of Lanling Jin. She’d raised Meng Yao on a steady diet of stories of what his life would be like when his father finally took him back the way he’d promised her he would, stories that had filled his days and nights for years and years and years, and then just last year she’d suddenly stopped talking about it entirely. It was as if the person who’d told those stories had nothing to do with her.

Meng Yao didn’t know what had happened, but he assumed it must have been pretty bad.

“It'll be a good fit,” she added.

“Then I’ll go to the Lan sect,” he said, and pretended not see the way his mother relaxed a little, relieved that he wasn’t asking too many questions. “I’ve heard they are gentlemen there, righteous but gentle; it will be the best match for my personality, I’m sure.”

A lie, of course. ‘Gentlemen’ were just as likely to come to the brothel as brutes, and they were all the same once they had a cup of wine and a beauty in their arms – Meng Yao tried not to have any illusions.

“Can we afford it?” he asked instead, since that was something he was sure his mother would have thought of, would have expected him to ask. “Gusu is so far away…”

“I have obtained a letter from the local sect recommending you to their sect leader, Lan Qiren,” she said. “He’s the one that teaches the classes – the one that sent out the summons asking the subsidiary sects to look for individuals with raw talent to join his classes and offering them an extra seat for their sects for each nameless orphan they find that lives up to Lan sect standards. Only the Heavens know why he’s doing something like that…I assume they’re trying to expand.”

That seemed like the most reasonable explanation. Meng Yao nodded. “So I’ll be traveling with the local sect?”

“That’s right,” his mother said, and raised her chin a little. “At least this much, your mother was able to do for you.”

She’d begged and bargained and traded favors for it, then, Meng Yao thought, and yet taking him along was to their own benefit: if they were looking for inherited cultivation talent sufficient for the Lan sect, then the bastard son of another Great Sect leader would be a better bet than some random nobody. She’d probably humiliated herself for nothing.

“Will you come with me?” he asked, more concerned with that – it was too easy for women of ill repute to disappear into the depths of the city if they didn’t have someone to watch out for them.

Even someone as young as he was. He wished he was older.

“You can come back to visit me during the Spring Festival,” she said, which meant no. “I’ll be all right, A-Yao.”

Meng Yao wasn’t so sure.

Still, not having him around would at least remove a visible reminder of his mother’s age – she’d been kicked out of the better brothels because of him, because no one wanted a woman who was a mother. Leaving would at least do that for her.

“I’ll write,” he finally said. “I’ll write as often as they let me.”

“And I’ll write back,” she promised him, kissing his cheek. “I promise.”

With that, Meng Yao supposed he had to be satisfied.

-

The Lan sect was both exactly like what Meng Yao expected and absolutely nothing at all like anything he could have dreamt.

For the first, his cynicism was almost immediately confirmed: the boys raised there were snobby as anything, looking down at the rest of them as little better than barbarians, and many of the adults were the same way. It was clear that this whole business of recruiting talented nobodies was a project of the sect leader’s – the interim sect leader, no less, not even the real thing – and nobody else’s; they were only just barely going along with it. Adding to that the fact that there were dozens if not hundreds of rules, and Meng Yao could glumly foresee a future of having his lack of knowledge held over his head as a fault, even with his marvelous memory to act as his backing.

For the second…

Well, there was Lan Xichen, who was – as unbelievable as it seemed – to actually embody all those things that people said about gentlemen, all kindness and gentleness and fierce upright pride, except only for real. There was Lan Wangji, who was basically perfect in every way and kinder than he gave the impression he was, willing to help tutor anyone who asked if only they dared disturb his solitude long enough to do so. There was the boy Meng Yao shared a room with, Su She, who’d punched the boy from the Yunping cultivator clan in the mouth for calling Meng Yao a son of a whore and pretended it was because they weren’t allowed to talk about that sort of thing, when actually it’d been because he hadn’t wanted rumors to get around that might make Meng Yao’s life harder in the future.

There was Lan Qiren, who was strict and a little boring but fair, painfully fair, handing out punishments with an equitable hand no matter that it meant that he was punishing the locals as often if not more often. It’d been his idea to bring people like Meng Yao into the Lan sect, and defending the idea was the only time he truly seemed moved to passion. Now that they’d passed the initial examination and been judged to match Lan sect standards, Lan Qiren announced, as far as he was concerned, they were Lan sect just as if they were born there, as if they’d been children of his own.

And he even seemed to really believe it, too.

Today, Meng Yao’s head was still warm from when the stern Teacher Lan had put his hand there, gentle and approving, and his ears still burning from the murmured “Well done, Meng Yao, as expected.”

“I think I would kill someone for him,” Meng Yao said dreamily to Su She, who snorted.

“You’ve got such father issues,” he said disdainfully, as if he didn’t have entire family issues. That was just Su She’s way, though – he bitched and moaned and complained without end, and he’d probably kill someone for Meng Yao if Meng Yao so much as hinted it was something he’d want. They’d made friends for a reason. “You know the bit about the poor kids being his own children is a lie, right?”

“I know which sect’s leader is my father, thanks,” Meng Yao said, rolling his eyes. “I’m well aware it’s not Teacher Lan. Like he’d ever have kids of his own, anyway.”

“That’d require noticing when someone’s flirting with him,” Su She agreed, all solemn for just a moment, and then he dissolved into sniggering giggles. Meng Yao couldn’t blame him: it was, in fact, extremely funny when women (and sometimes men) tried to flirt with Teacher Lan, mostly because of the way that he very genuinely and completely missed that that was what was happening each and every time.

“Laugh all you like,” Meng Yao said peaceably. “You’d kill for him, too.”

“Probably,” Su She agreed. “But only because of you.”

That was fair enough. After getting the lay of the land, Meng Yao had arranged for them to ‘accidentally’ be overheard by Teacher Lan while talking about the misconduct of one of the teachers who was the most biased against guest disciples, one of the ones that had been harassing Su She in particular for over a year before Meng Yao had arrived, and despite Su She’s initial nervousness about the plan, it had all gone splendidly. Sure, they’d been punished to do five copies of a treatise on upright conduct because they’d breached Talking behind the backs of others is prohibited, but the teacher in question had been sentenced to two hundred strikes with the discipline rod for abusing his position and three months of enforced seclusion to contemplate his misbehavior, and then, Teacher Lan had said, his expression dark and threatening, they could discuss what role would be the best fit in the future.

The other teachers had taken notice and shaped up very quickly, after that.

Comparatively, those five copies made in the nice cool Library Pavilion instead of having to do chores on the hottest days of summer? Practically a pat on the back for bringing it to his attention.

Su She would never have dared to raise anything if it was just him, Meng Yao thought; he had a strange fear of authority figures that combined envy and misery in an explosive combination – he would have just suffered and suffered and suffered until he’d been pushed too far and then it would have all burst out at once. He wasn’t like Meng Yao, who was unwilling to keep to his “proper” place and was more than willing to use his greater-than-average share of brains to get what he wanted, no matter what rules he broke in the process. He was the sort of person who was willing to do whatever it took to obtain his desires – no matter what it took.

Well, maybe not no matter what. He wouldn’t want to disappoint Lan Qiren too much.

(Okay, so maybe Su She was right and he had some unresolved father issues. So what if he did? Whose business was it but his?)

-

It’d taken Meng Yao a while to fully adjust to the Cloud Recesses.

Some parts he’d figured out right away – the way they all flattered themselves as gentlemen even if they were actually little more than hypocrites (Teacher Lan and his personally taught nephews exempted, of course), which of course meant that Meng Yao’s ability to act pitiful at the drop of a hat and cleverly turn black into white made him a teacher’s pet at once. The vegetarian meals were easy enough to adapt to, given that his mother hadn’t had the money for meat all that often, and the training and cultivation and all that wasn’t any challenge for his excellent powers of retention – he had ambitions of becoming one of Teacher Lan’s aides one day, and worked assiduously towards that goal. Even waking and sleeping early, which was practically the opposite of his schedule at home, was something he could adjust to, given time and incentive.

It was his mentality that took some time to adjust.

Meng Yao had perhaps grown up with too many of his mother’s stories, painting an image of a matchless paradise – at the start, he looked at everything around him, serene and elegant but not quite as rich and shining and thought that it would do, for now. When he’d first arrived, he had had every intention of making a good reputation for himself and using that reputation to get his real father’s attention – he’d liked Teacher Lan from the beginning, despite his best attempts to not let his heart be swayed, but he’d reasoned that if a teacher was like this, then a blood-related father would be even better.

And so, for the first half-year, he’d treated his time at the Cloud Recesses…not lightly, no. He was extremely serious about making sure to get the maximum benefit he could. And yet, at the same time, he still was not really committing himself to the place.

This wasn’t where he was going to live his whole life, he reasoned; it was just a stepping stone to a better future. That meant he would exert himself to point out things that made him look good, to eliminate obstacles in his path, to win himself allies, but not bother with those longer-term problems, the ones that really ought to be fixed but which would take a great deal of effort with little reward other than annoying people.

His feeling of superiority and emotional distance lasted right up until the first discussion conference.

From a distance, Jin Guangshan was everything Meng Yao could have imagined – perhaps a little too similar to the clients that his mother often saw, a little dissolute to pull off the air of a refined scholar he affected, but wearing more gold than Meng Yao had ever seen in his life, with a retinue of servants that dwarfed the other sect’s. Each of those servants were dressed more finely than even main clan cultivators in some of the smaller sects, and though Meng Yao’s Lan sect guest disciple clothing was of such quality that he didn’t need to fear their disdain, he couldn’t help but be secretly impressed.

He'd exerted himself more than usual to trade away all of his chores and duties, freeing himself up to take on patrol duty near the Jin sect. He’d perhaps daydreamed about some sort of encounter – nothing active on his part, of course, but he couldn’t quite resist playing through some fantasy of catching someone’s eye by chance, getting called over, a “You have a familiar set to your chin, who’s your father?”, a shy halting admission, recognition, a joyous reunion…

Instead, his father spent the entire night getting drunk and cursing the Lan sect’s hospitality for not providing him with girls to go with his liquor, calling Lan Qiren a miserable prude with a stick up his ass right in front of the Lan sect disciples that clenched their fists in barely concealed rage. He’d seen Meng Yao all right, ordered him to come forward, but it’d only been to mock him in front of all of his servants – and not even for being his bastard son, no, that would involve bothering to pick him out from the crowd or to ask who he was. No, he’d mocked him simply for being one of the poor disciples that Lan Qiren had taken in, all because his accent was marked with the distinct tones of Yunping rather than the sweetness of Gusu.

“Tell me, boy,” he said, breathing fumes into Meng Yao’s face and making him feel suddenly as if he’d never left the brothel – that the Cloud Recesses had all been a vague dream, and now he’d woken up and lost it all. “How does that old fart Qiren expect you to pay him back for all he’s done for you? I heard the Lan sect includes a pretty face as one of its standard requirements…”

Meng Yao put his gaze above his father’s head and pretended to be deaf.

“It seems like rather a lot of effort,” one of his father’s attendants remarked. “Even if Second Master Lan wanted a boy to warm his bed, couldn’t he just buy one like any normal person?”

“Bah, boys,” his father said, and leaned back, waving his hands in dismissal. “Why would anyone bother with a boy when you could have a soft woman instead? Just as long as they’re stupid enough – you know, there’s nothing worse than a woman who’s talented and knows it, too smart, always trying to get above their station…”

“You’re thinking about that whore in Yunping again, aren’t you? The one that interrupted your dinner and made a scene, claiming you’d promised to take in the son she bore you?” the attendant said, laughing. “I told you, you should’ve just killed her for her impudence rather than just having her beaten and thrown out. That way the matter wouldn’t still be bothering you…”

“Go away, boy,” another servant said to Meng Yao, who was frozen stiff in belated terror, nausea churning in his stomach as he realized his mother could’ve gone out one day and never come back, and he would never have known why – or maybe it was that he’d been spending his considerable time and brain on pleasing someone who would have done that, who nearly had done that. “Your accent’s brought back bad memories, don’t you see?”

Meng Yao left.

No, to be more blunt: he fled. He ran away, hot tears filling his eyes until he couldn’t see – belly full of regret and disappointment, crushed dreams feeling like broken shards of glass in his mouth and throat.

He tried to tell himself that it was better to find out now, when they were still distant, before he'd sold his soul for the futile chance to get that horrible man's affection, but he couldn't quite throw off the shame of knowing that if he hadn't heard such a thing up front, he probably would have done that. Would have humiliated himself like that, and for what? A man who regretted not murdering his mother?

He ran right into Lan Wangji, who was also on patrol.

Lan Wangji took one look at him and grabbed his wrist, dragging him away from the main pathway and all the way to his uncle’s rooms.

Lan Qiren was still awake despite the late hour, writing something at his desk, but he set aside his brush at once. “What’s going on?” he asked, frowning. “Wangji – Meng Yao – one of you report.”

“Meng Yao was on patrol by the Jin sect,” Lan Wangji explained as Meng Yao furiously tried to dash away his tears using his sleeve.

“Who permitted that? First year disciples aren’t permitted to patrol during discussion conferences,” Lan Qiren asked, his frown deepening. “It wouldn’t be proper – ah, but no, I recall now. I suppose it was inevitable. Wangji, well done, and thank you. You are dismissed.”

After Lan Wangji left, he turned his eyes on Meng Yao.

“You volunteered, didn’t you?” he asked.

Meng Yao felt his back go cold: Lan Qiren knew, then. It had never been said out loud by anyone as far as he knew, and yet it was clear that Lan Qiren knew who his father was – and probably his mother, too.

He knew that Meng Yao was – that he wasn’t anything more than –

“You are one of my most promising disciples, Meng Yao,” Lan Qiren told him, and poured him a cup of tea from his own pot, pressing it into his hands. It was finer tea than Meng Yao had ever had in his life, full of smoke and flavor. “The rules say Be loyal and filial, but they also praise reciprocity. You have not been recognized, and have not received your forefathers’ grace. You can fulfill your obligations to chivalry through your respect for the parent that raised you.”

Meng Yao stared down at the teacup. Lan Qiren had completely misunderstood the nature of Meng Yao’s concern – he was disappointed in what his father was, not worried about not living up to his obligations of being a filial child. And yet it was a little nice to hear that as far as Lan Qiren was concerned, the rules said that he could tell his father go hang for all he cared…

And that he ought to honor his mother, which was something no one who knew her had ever said to him.

“Even if she –” His voice stuttered. “Even if she’s a…”

He couldn’t say the word.

“Appreciate the good people is not qualified by class or profession,” Lan Qiren said, and his monotone voice was blissfully without emotion, as if this were just another lesson in class, and not the deepest hurt of Meng Yao’s life. “I have never met your mother, Meng Yao, but you are a good child – diligent, organized, sincere, with good judgment, and you clearly adore her. That tells me everything I need to know.”

Meng Yao burst into tears.

-

Meng Yao liked Lan Xichen a lot, but he also had to admit that sometimes, the older boy was, well…

“Dumb as a pile of rocks,” Su She announced.

“Do not criticize other people,” Meng Yao said piously, but then chuckled, shaking his head. “Say, rather, that he’s naïve and sheltered, and overly inclined to believe the best in people.”

“Like I said: dumb as rocks. How many times is going to get himself swindled into being someone’s sword or shield before he figures out that the problem is him?”

“Some people don’t have the capacity to understand the depths of humanity’s foulness –”

“Yeah, dumb ones.”

“Su She, please.” Su She held up his hands in surrendered. “At any rate, if Lan-gongzi is going to keep falling for people’s tricks, it’s beholden on us to help protect him.”

“You just don’t want Teacher Lan to be sad about something serious happening to his nephew,” Su She said knowingly, but he was already nodding. “All right, what are we going to do about it? He outranks us. We can’t exactly tell him to his face that he’s being…”

He paused.

Dumb as rocks went unsaid, but then, it didn’t need to be said out loud for the meaning to be clear.

Meng Yao sighed.

“You can only trick someone so many times,” he said. “If we want to keep him from getting tricked by other people, then we have to trick him first. And better.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lan-gongzi likes to save people,” Meng Yao explained. “He really sees himself as a chivalrous gentleman – he puts chivalry first, even though Teacher Lan says Learning comes first. That’s why he always sides with whoever he perceives to be the underdog in a given situation, no matter how wrong that impression is. That’s how most of the people who’ve been tricking him have gone for it: playing the victim, appealing to his sense of righteousness, pulling the curtains over his eyes to obscure what’s actually happening.”

“Okay. So?”

“So, we’ve both got miserable backstories – you being taken from your family at a young age and then bullied, me with my mother and, even worse, father. If we get him on our side, early on, he’ll side with us over anyone else – that way we can keep him from getting roped into other people’s private grudges.”

Su She frowned. “That seems a little manipulative.”

“It’s for his own good, and that’s what’s important,” Meng Yao said, and smiled faintly. “Wouldn’t you agree, Lan-er-gongzi?”

Su She jumped, turning around just in time to see Lan Wangji, who had been standing in the shadow of a nearby tree, step out.

He had a serious expression, as always, but a thoughtful one.

Meng Yao waited patiently.

“You cannot take advantage,” Lan Wangji finally said, and Meng Yao knew he’d won the most important ally in the battle to save Lan Xichen from himself. “That would change it from a virtuous act to a selfish one.”

“Like we need anything from him,” Su She said haughtily. “Maintain your own discipline.”

“Arrogance is forbidden.”

“It’s not arrogance if it’s justified! It’s just self-confidence!”

“Do not argue with family,” Meng Yao quoted, and was pleased to see both of them drop it at once. “Listen, we all share the same goal, and we have to start somewhere, don’t we? We’re stronger together than apart. Together, we can do anything, even protect Lan-gongzi.”

That and more, he thought as the other boys nodded, following his lead. Lan Xichen is just the start.

-

“The Wen sect will make trouble sooner rather than later,” Meng Yao said thoughtfully, one day. His friends turned to look at him. “Yes, I’m serious.”

Lan Wangji nodded, serious as always, but Su She scoffed.

“You can’t even convince that Wei Wuxian boy to leave poor Lan-er-gongzi alone,” he said snidely. “How exactly are you expecting to bring down the Wen sect?”

“I don’t convince Wei Wuxian to leave Lan-er-gongzi alone because Lan-er-gongzi doesn’t want to be left alone,” Meng Yao said. “Obviously. Isn’t that right?”

“You should call me by name,” Lan Wangji said, which wasn’t answering the question and definitely wasn’t denying anything. “You were saying, about the Wen sect?”

Meng Yao smiled.

-

“What brings one of Teacher Lan’s most promising disciples to the Unclean Realm?” Nie Mingjue said, peering at him thoughtfully. “You’re at the wrong time to be one of the usual messengers.”

Meng Yao smiled at him.

“I think you’ll find that we have similar goals, Sect Leader Nie,” he said. “When it comes to making sure that certain people in our lives don’t get hurt by the bad decisions of others, I mean. In your case, it’s your younger brother, who’s a friend of mine –”

Friend, source of information, it was all about the same thing in the end. Meng Yao didn’t have real friends outside the Lan sect, but he’d been very careful to cultivate good relationships with all his most important peers.

“- and for me, well. A teacher for day, a father for a lifetime. I’m sure Sect Leader Nie can understand the importance of protecting one’s father – right?”

“You don’t need to use any sophistry on me,” Nie Mingjue said, rolling his eyes. “If you have an idea on what we can do to stop the Wen sect before they go and burn someone’s house down, I’m all ears.”

By chance, Meng Yao did.

It was a good plan, too, daring and brave in equal measure. If it worked the way he hoped it would, he’d win enough fame to get Jin Guangshan to beg for him to join the Jin sect – not that he would, of course.

Meng Yao knew what he wanted, and he knew how he was going to get it, too.

-

“This is a lovely house, A-Yao,” Meng Shi said, running her hand along one of the soft tapestries on the wall. “Truly lovely. Whoever you rented it from has good taste.”

Meng Yao bowed. “Thank you for the compliment, Mother. I put a lot of thought into it.”

“You own it?” she asked, surprised. “But don’t you live up the mountain, with the sect?”

“I do. This is for you.”

“For – me? A-Yao! This is too much – how much must it have cost–”

“I saved the Lan sect’s core texts from being destroyed,” Meng Yao said. “I’m an inner sect disciple now – I could ask for a dozen houses like this, and they’d grant them to me without blinking twice. Teacher Lan would insist on it.”

“Teacher Lan,” his mother murmured. “That’s the one you’ve taken to treating as your own father, isn’t it? You’ve spoken so much of him, in your letters…”

“There’s no need to scheme,” he told her. “He wouldn’t notice your flirtations, anyway.”

His mother arched her eyebrows at him.

“He’s really oblivious.”

“Still…”

“Really no need,” Meng Yao said, and couldn’t help but smile at the memory of Lan Qiren pulling him into a hug when he realized that the books – and Lan Xichen – were all safe from the Wen sect’s attempt to burn down the Cloud Recesses, and, later, again, that Wen Ruohan was dead. He may have deliberately schemed for that second hug, and he might or might not have plans for more. “He already takes me as a son.”

His mother relaxed.

“Good,” she said, and smiled herself. “So, A-Yao, was I right, all those years ago? Was the Lan sect a good fit for you?”

“Yes, Mother,” Meng Yao said. “Yes, it was.”

[spiltscribbles]

Prompt: Pro Athlete Sirius because that my and Remus' kink

~Notes: OMFG VICTOrIA!!!! I FUCKING SCREECHED!!!! lkadfjlaksdgjoiaejfalskdgjioeugisfkldshg Yes tis my kink as well!!! And then I saw this from Nonny and worlds collided and BOOM! I hope you like this my love<3<3 You incredibly talented sugarplum!!! TBH I want to write a thousand more things in this AU XD

.-

FROM THIS LIST  |  Send Me A Prompt!💜 | A REBLOG MEANS THE GALAXY!!💜

.-

When Remus was young— surrounded by the light breeze of the Welsh coast and the harmony of birds chirping in the distance— he would follow his mother to their small garden behind their cottage  at the cusp of twilight as his father cooked their supper, and he’d watch as she laid flat all sorts of newspapers written in French and Arabic and English, watch as she brought her red pen against the ink and marked the articles with underlines and shorthand he wouldn’t understand for years still.

He asked her once, when he was barely eight years old, why she bothered to keep up with so many different publications, why she read the same story penned by countless perspectives when all the facts stayed the same at the end of the day. And he remembers how she had let out a quick, shrill of a laugh, tossing back her golden head while sucking in a puff from the bubbling hookah she had set up besides her— a habit she acquired from her Algerian, refugee parents, and one that became synonymous to those late nights in Remus’s eyes.

“Facts can be wielded to someone’s personal vendettas, Remus John,” she had crooned in that adoring way of hers whenever she spoke to him— honey eyes that were the same color and shape to Remus’s own flashing alight and their matching smiles going crooked in her stunningly beautiful face. 

“Oh.” Remus had replied, still confused as all get out but was perfectly fine with just holding his small vigil, watching her beneath moonlight and the soft glow of their outdoors lamps, as he listened to the shuffling of papers while she commenced this odd quirk. 

It’s a decade and a half later—  as his editor for the Phoenix, a small, but bustling online editorial that plans on dethroning the likes of Politico and Vox in only a matter of years, scans his latest findings on the corrupt boosters linked to MP Avery from Leeds— when Remus thinks he suddenly understands what his mother, with her keen eyes and pixelated air, had meant by facts in how they can be colored differently simply by the words surrounding them. And he wonders if one day soon, one of his bylines will join her little stack of stories, if she’ll be proud of him even if she says as much even now, when he’s a lost twenty-something stumbling through life in the capitol and barely making it as is, between his actual job and the gig he has at the coffee shop nearest his dingy flat he shares with three other blokes.

“Mmm, this is good, Lupin,” Dorcas declares after what feels like an eon, dropping her long, dark legs from where they were lounging leisurely on her desk and scuffs out her cigarette in a pretty, glass ashtray. “Send it over to Flores to look into deeper, maybe it’ll corroborate the info she’s already gotten from her sources.”

Remus feels himself bristle, hopes that it doesn’t show, that his face stays passive as he contends, “I think I should at least help her write the expose, I’m the one who got this bombshell.”

“That’s not how it works, sweets,” Dorcas toots, tossing back her dark head of curls as she rises, perching on the corner of her desk delicately and looking down, straight into his gaze. “I know it’s frustrating, but you’re fresh blood. barely six months here, but Alice has been with us for years. This is her baby, and we’re just here to nurture it.”

“So I’ll have to wait another ten months, at least,  to get the same treatment?” He argues in an admittedly petulant way, making Dorcas laugh endearingly, and Remus is suddenly,  searingly reminded of his age, and how he’s the youngest staffer that this London based news outlet has on hand. 

“C’mon, love, it won’t be that long for someone as sharp as you, just be patient, and don’t try to pull a Zoe Barnes on us, yeah? You’re far too pretty to clean up on the rails of  the tube.” Dorcas tousles a hand into his dark tawny curls, and Remus holds back the roll to his eyes that he feels willing up inside of him as he stands fully.

“Thanks Cas.”

She smiles beatifically, and throws him a wink. “You’re joining Emmy for the report tomorrow on those United footballers and their fundraiser for the hospital, yeah?”

“Bright and early,” Remus replies, still feels a bit miffed that he was chosen to write up the charity function, considering he doesn’t know a lick about football and doesn’t really get on with anyone who does. But Caradoc— their typical sports reporter— is out sick with the flew, so it’s on him. “I’ll have it on your desk early enough so it’ll be published by tea time.”

“Good man,” Dorcas says in thanks, picking up her crowing cellphone before waving him off.

Remus isn’t all that surprised when he strides out of the office only to find Benjy Fenwick sitting against the opposite wall, knees pressed to his chest and quickly scrambling up when he catches sight of Remus. Sometimes it’s impossible to believe that the bespectacled man in front of him is one of the top editors for the Phoenix, that he’s a regular corespondent for places like the BBC or CNN— that his rebukes against the piss poor inquiries waged during PMQs have become more anticipated than the sessions themselves. Remus tends to forget all of that when he sees him like this, messy haired and wearing a graphic T-shirt with some marvel superhero embossed on the front. “Wotcher Remus.”

“Hiya Remus says, smiling softly and rocking back on his heels. “You wanted to talk to the sergeant then?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I didn’t want to talk to Dorcas, I just— Erm, I know you were showing her that stuff you got from that intern, Pettigrew, and i know you were chafed about not getting any opportunity here so—“ He trails off, scratching the back of his head and studying a point over Remus’s shoulder, and it’s all too endearing, and Remus is so beyond thankful he’s made such a good friend here.

“No cigar,” he says in answer to the unspoken question, shrugging noncommittally even if he feels like shit over it.

Benjy nods, face contrite in a way that tells Remus he never thought it would’ve went otherwise. “I’m sorry, that’s bollocks.”

“’S whatever,” Remus shrugs off the apology, begins walking down the hall and straightening his report to hand over to Alice. 

“Ah,, erm. We can get a drink, yeah? In commiseration,” Benjy offers, and Remus stilts only for a beat before continuing the twisting trail to where Alice is set up with the more senior members on staff. And he feels only sorta bad about wanting to refuse. He knows that if he says yes, it’ll mean something different to Benjy than it does him, that he’ll probably take it as Remus finally giving into his pestering and deciding to actually go out with him, even if he’s refuted the other four times he’s asked as much. Remus’s simply just too busy trying to get a footing in this city, and trying to figure out where he’s suppose to go from here, and what he’s suppose to do. And yes, Benjy is cute— a complete Seth Cohen archetype. And he’s sweet and smart and funny enough. But Remus is really not in the mood for doing the whole flowers and wine and candle lit dinners shtick, had gotten enough of that while still with his university boyfriend. And yeah, he’s only just turned 24, but he already feels too old and too jaded for that sort of puppy love— even if Benjy’s got a good decade and some change on him.

Probably sensing his hesitation, Benjy is quick to rectify the offer. “I’ll ask Mary, and Fabian too, and a few others. We can make a night of it, just some drinks on a Friday after work.”

Stalling by the last turn to Alice’s desk, Remus looks at him from over his shoulder, and sort of hates himself for being such a soft hearted fuck sometimes. “Yeah Benj, sounds nice. Just let me know on the group chat, yeah?”

Benjy grins, much more genuine than his awkward quirk of the lips from earlier. “Yeah, good call, I’ll let the others know pronto.”

“Aces,” Remus says, tosses him a obligatory thumbs-up before finding an expectant looking Alice who’s tapping her foot impatiently.

Yeah, today is so bloody shit.

.-

Surprisingly, the round of drinks turns to another and then a third and fourth and Remus is currently nursing his fifth mango margarita on Benjy’s tab, and he actually feels lighter than he has since taking the job at Phoenix, feels bright and bubbling and like absolutely nothing could be wrong as long as he’s got this drink in his grasp and he’s sitting with the handful of reporters and photographers from the office that don’t all have sticks up their asses. It’s fun, it’s good. So obviously it couldn’t have lasted.

Mary is currently cackling about her Uber driver from last night who asked her all sorts of well meaning, but incredibly dense questions about her hijab— a freshly poured glass of coke in one hand, while the other is tangled into her girlfriend Emmy’s. And From his left Remus can hear Fabian ribbing Frank on his crush on Alice, while Benjy scoots intermittently closer as they watch Kingsley and Marlene sparring over something to do with a Kardashian or TikTok trend or whatever the fuck else— The guy has resilience, Remus has to give Benjy that.

“Right, who’s buying next?” Marlene asks, abrasive as ever while scrolling through her phone, ostensively finding something to prove her point against the managing editor.

“Reckon it’s my turn,” Benjy crows, standing up smoothly and glancing down at Remus with a nervous sort of half grin.

“Just a water for me, ta. I need to sober up,” Remus tells him, feels proud that he didn’t even slur slightly. Benjy bobs his head understandingly, and Remus turns to ask Marlene about her latest tinder hookup which always is a good laugh, but then he catches on it. On the sound of the pub’s doors flinging open, followed by a raucous crowd of athletic looking guys probably only a bit older than he is, clambering indoors. 

They’re all so very sixth-form, broad grins and slapping each other’s shoulders with jeers, topped off with loud, bark like laughter that makes it obvious to Remus that these wankers think that they’re some sort of group of gods amongst men, roaming around like everyone should fall to their feet and offer everything they have. It makes Remus roll his eyes so far back that it feels like he might’ve sprained them. They just give off this exhausting aura that reminds him of a past boyfriend in tenth year who was on the footie team and who’s favorite activity was either making Remus feel lucky enough to go out with someone so popular, or dragging him around like some sort of bloody trophy.

To put it nicely, Remus sorta hates them on sight. So when he sees one of the tossers— regrettably the brightest of the lot who’s all pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste in an objectively infuriating matter— swivels up to the barkeep and jostles Benjy on his way, well Remus doesn’t hesitate to dart forwards to tell him off.

“Oi, watch where you’re going, yeah?”

Benjy and the bloke who looks like he might moonlight as a model for Calvin briefs for when he’s not lounging in a yacht off the Tuscany coast, both turn to him at the same time. Benjy looking abashed, and the aforementioned tosser preening like the cat who’s just caught a canary.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t see you there,” he says in a delightfully deep tenner, giving Remus an appreciative once over, and Remus absolutely despises how the action makes him feel both thrilled and irritated. “Trust and believe, I wouldn’t have looked away if I saw you.”

“Not me, arse.” Remus spits back, refuses to pay any credence to how his cheeks have begun to flush. “You bumped into my mate right there, the one with the tray of loggers.”

The tosser darts his almost molten gray eyes over to Benjy for a sparing second before he laser focusses back onto Remus, the most phony expression of contrition all over his face. “Sorry to your friend,” he says the descriptor like a joke that no one else is in on. “Let me buy you a drink in sorry for the one I made slim here spill.”

Remus is officially unimpressed, hopes that his flat tone gets it across. “You’re an arse.”

“You’re mouthy,” he retorts, looks like it’s something he greatly appreciates— delights over even. 

“Ah, ’s fine Remus, really. I’ll just bring these back and get us a new glass.”

“Listen to slim, Remus, he’s got the right idea.” The tosser hurriedly interjects, strutting close enough to him that he makes it so Remus has to tip his head back just slightly so not to drop his gaze. “I’m Black, Sirius Black, just to get the pleasantries out of the way.” His leer tells Remus that the name should probably evoke some response of aw into Remus, but all it does is make him sound so egregiously pretentious that Remus wants to smack his own bloody head against a dry wall and stay in the hole until this ruddy Sirius bloke leaves him the hell alone.

“Good for you,” he says instead of all of that, and spots Sirius’s friends from behind Sirius chuckling and elbowing one another. Evidently this is a line the tosser uses frequently, and Remus is pleased that he might be one of the first who aren’t at all impressed by the grandiose way he introduced himself.

“Hah, you know I’m use to the pretty ones playing hard to get, but I’m really feeling here that you’re not exactly liking my company, love.”

Remus sucks in a frustrated breath through his nose, shouldering past Sirius and taking the tray of drinks from Benjy before storming back to their table where the others have begun openly gawping at the scene— Marlene outright squawking with Fabian just as Remus takes his seat.

“Don’t,” Remus warns them all as he silently says fuck off to the water and instead gargles down one of the loggers. And if he has to steadfastly not turn around for the rest of the night towards where he can feel Sirius’s gaze burning into his back— well then so be it.

.-

The next morning, Remus has to puke twice into the toilet, and gulps down three aspirins just to stave off his bloody hangover from the night before where he decided that getting properly sloshed would prove as a good technique to not end up making out with Sirius in some dark corner— or regrettably the backseat of his car. And if he does still remember flashes of ranting to him about how insufferable preppy, rich boys actually are while Sirius gazed at him endeared— well Remus just decides to purge it out along with the stomach acid. It’s not like he’ll ever see the douche again.

.-

He meets Arthur— one of the accountants who also helps out by taking photos for more low key news stories— outside the hospital where the conference will be taking place with the Manchester United team. There was a scrimmage that they all played with some of the kids in the cancer ward that occurred at around eight in the ruddy morning, but thankfully Remus didn’t have to show up until an hour later when the team presented their big shiny check, to the big, shiny hospital. 

However, Arthur has been here for hours, so he’s beyond chirpy and looks like he’s downed three cups of espresso as he chatters on about his son Percy starting secondary school, and his eldest, Bill, getting an award for his reading prowess, and all the strange craving his wife has been having throughout her pregnancy with the twins they’re expecting any week now. And Remus loves Arthur, he does— one of the sweetest folks he’s ever met— but God, his head is still thrumming from those misguided tequila shots and he really just wants to get his three quotes, and write up the story so he can find refuge back in his sheets.

While Arthur has moved to talking about his wife, Molly’s, plans to open up a daycare in their refurnished garage, Remus scans his eyes over the familiar face of reporters from other outlets who look just as bored as him, and then to the stage where a woman in a sharply pressed suit is ushering for the group of football stars to join her, so that the conference can finally fucking begin. 

And Remus thinks that their faces are sorta familiar, probably from all the publicity they get on the telly— but then he freezes as he stops at one of them with dark brown skin, and thick rimmed spectacles— and he suddenly can hear him chatting about his redheaded girlfriend and drunkenly declaring that she’ll be the mother of his children some day soon. So he completely expects it when his stomach drops as he moves his glance just a bit to the right, being struck by pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste, made all the more infuriating by the tight kit he’s got on and the blazing number twelve splayed against his chest.

And fuck.

Remus runs through about a dozen scenarios in which he can make a discrete, or not so discrete exit before he notices him, but in tandem to his spiraling thoughts, the wanker actually looks forwards, and like a creepy metal detector, his quick silver gaze pinpoints onto Remus.

They stare at one another for a beat before his smirk goes wolfish, and he runs a hand through his artfully tousled hair in a way that practically screams, fancy meeting you here. And holy fuck he looks so mouth watteringly attractive with that faint film of sweat running down his neck, and how his smile pulls slightly more to the left, and how he’s looking at Remus like he’s his birthday and Christmas presents all rolled into one.

Remus suddenly hates everything— but most of all hates Sirius, and how bloody fit he is.

“Oh, you’re a fan then?” 

Starting, Remus shifts around slightly so that he’s facing Arthur completely. “Pardon?”

“Sirius Black I mean, you’re a fan?” Arthur asks in that abrasively congenial and intensely scrutinizing way that he treats everything. “I mean he’s a great player, but I know you don’t really watch. So I bet it’s all that charity work he does, yeah?”

“Charity work?” Remus echos, feeling like a floundering fish.

“Truly some amazing stuff.” Arthur pontificates, rubbing a hand against his jaw as he tips his head back. “I mean obviously I’m partial to the fundraising for Reporters Without Borders, but of course the things he does with the more impoverished kids is great. And I know Molly likes his very outspoken posts about being anti war and his annual live streams to earn money for refugees in those war torn nations, like the last one he did for Syria?”

“Oh—“ Remus says, feeling like his head is being overrun by a fountain of new information.

“Yes well, you don’t usually see athletes get into the thick of it with political issues, but I reckon he never really minded. I mean the fact he’s the first football star from United to have come out without any fanfare really proved that. Oh, I think they’re starting, I should probably get some photos before Dorcas gives me a tongue lashing.”

And as quick as the flash of his camera’s lends, Arthur is using his considerable height to get to a more advantageous spot towards the front, and leaves Remus in the dust, as if he hasn’t just obliterated his every assumption of Sirius from after that initial meeting.

And unbidden, the words his mother had told him so many years ago, about facts and how they can color a situation just simply based off the person who’s speaking them— flood to the forefront of his mind.

“Fucking hell,” Remus mutters lowly, gets jostled by Greengrass, a hawkish reporter from a rivaling publication who always has on the most wickedly sharp acrylic nails, and perfectly quaffed curls— as she waves around her certification to speak her inquiry.

“My question is for Potter,” she announces when the woman leading the event, McGonagall, points her way. “And I was wondering how early you boys have to rise for training during the season? And how intense the sessions are that Coach Hooch puts you guys through?”

Potter, the one with the redheaded girlfriend that Remus heard so much about last night between his ranting at Sirius, parts his lips, but it’s not his voice that ends up reverberating through the outdoors space. Instead, it’s Sirius, who’s shouldering him with a goading air, obviously expecting his comment to have only ended up in Potter’s ear and not caught by the mike.

“I wonder if Lupin will let me wake up with’m so he can let me get some real training done before practices, eh?”

And just as soon as his words pitter off, the entire crowd drops to a hush— quiet enough so that they could probably hear it if a pen dropped. 

Sirius’s handsome face— strong jawline, and broad but sharp cheekbones, and a long, narrow nose— goes suddenly ashen, and he flashes over to Remus as if he’s terrified that he’ll bite his face off.

God, what an idiot.

With a long suffering sigh, Remus plucks out the microphone from a slack faced Greengrass’s hand. “We can discuss the regimen afterwards, Black. Just meet me by the front doors and let your mate answer the bloody question.”

Everyone around them falls into laughter that’s caught between uncomfortable chuckles and amazingly amused cackling, but the only person Remus is paying any mind is Sirius, and how he seems to have gone absolutely incandescent, nodding electrically before miming the zip of his lips and gesturing for Potter to carry on.

Jesus help him, Remus has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

.-

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

~Buy Me A Coffee 

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Attack Of The Winter Wolf: Revealed

Summary- 7.7k Alpha Steve x Little One Reader. Steve and you pack up in the Stark Jet and head across the ocean, this time to Norway. Steve seems to think that there will be the answers needed to help your friends for good. Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Warnings- None

A/N- Those that have stuck with me through this, thank you. I hope this isn’t turning into a “what the hell are you trying to do Amber” kind of deal. Haha. I don’t have any real answers, its just whats coming out. Anyways, thank you for reading, as always its so appreciated to hear what your thoughts are on it. Happy Howling 🐺💙

Chapter Three / Masterlist

It was a rush the following morning, Steve and Tony were busy checking over the jet being loaned for the mission. Meanwhile Pepper showed you around the giant Stark Towers. The last time you had been here you were unconscious, not remembering any of it. Pepper’s heels clicking against linoleum, while you rushed after the fast paced Alpha who was doing two tasks at once. But once she led you on the elevator, hitting some buttons, she tucked her tablet under her arm, turning her attention to you with a relaxed smile. 

“Dr. Banner has been wanting to officially meet you.” She stated as an explanation for the elevator ride. Twiddling your fingers, you shuffled foot to foot a bit nervous, only knowing the doctor had been where Steve rushed you to first when Pierce injected you. 

When the elevator door dinged and the two of you stepped out to what looked like a medical wing. A dark haired man stepped out while flipping through a chart muttering to himself when Pepper cleared her throat. “Bruce, you have a visitor.” His head lifted, blinking at them from over his glasses frames, confused as to who would want to intrude on him. But then recognition crossed his features and he snapped his clipboard shut, striding over. 

“Y/N! Pepper told me Steve was coming back this way for help, and I was hoping he would bring you.” His hand popped out to shake yours. You welcomed it with a tilt of your head, drawing in his scent. A part of you recognized him, the hint of warmth and freshness. 

“ Dr.Banner a pleasure… Steve told me what you had done for me, thank you for everything.” 

Bruce sputtered a bit, giving a shrug. “Ahh, I wasn’t able to do much, just send you along to someone better able to handle what happened to you. Umm, do you have a few minutes? I just really would like to ask you a few questions about your experience. If you are okay with that of course.” He added almost shyly and you smiled reassuringly. 

“I have no problem with that Dr.Banner.” 

“Bruce please.” Bruce looked expectantly at Pepper who checked her watch and nodded. 

“We got time, Tony will have Friday call for us when the jet is ready.” Bruce immediately turned on his heels and led the two of you towards his office. 

Steve went through the jet, checking all the gear stashed on board as well as settling in the controls chair to make sure he was familiar with everything before leaving Stark towers. Tony plopped in the one next to him, making the Alpha in Steve rumble at the intrusion but Steve was able to placate him. 

“So off to Norway huh?” Tony leaned forward to enter the coordinates in the dash for the autopilot. “What's in Norway that can help you with everything?” 

Steve growled as he continued going over the controls. “You saw the file Fury sent along Stark. You know exactly who is there.” 

“Okay you got me.” Tony finished what he was doing and turned the chair to face Steve. “I also know he's basically a recluse now and the chance of you getting him to talk is almost nada, zip, zilch. What makes you think he's gonna spill what you need.” 

“I have my ways…” Steve said coldly, his wolf growling softly at the other Alpha in his space. 

Tony gave a mock shiver. “Alright alright… just be careful okay? I know we're not on the best terms Steve but I do have a lot of respect for what you are trying to do.” 

Steve arched a brow and shook his head. “We’re not enemies Tony, I don’t happen to agree or appreciate that stunt you pulled with Ross. But I think now my stance on that shit is known. We can disagree and still be fine.” Tony next to him brushed it off while continuing with the switches, making his own adjustments to the system. 

“I know Steve, it was still a shitty move on my part, bringing Ross into your home, where your mate was after everything that happened. But she certainly put me in my place.” He laughed, recalling how you kicked all of them out.

Steve glanced at Tony from the corner of his eye and rumbled out a “Thank you Stark, Y/N certainly isn't taking anyone's shit, not anymore.” Tony snorted in agreement to that statement. 

“I don’t think they ever do, Pepper is the same damn way.” 

Steve laughed in return, knowing full well that everything Tony said was accurate about Pepper Potts, Tony had chosen well for himself in Steve’s opinion. For all the tension between Steve and Tony, he respected the Alpha next to him, and knew that finding his packmates was just as important to Tony as it was to Steve. Not to mention finding those responsible for Happy’s murder. Steve turned his chair to face the other Alpha. “I’m sorry about what happened to Happy Tony. I know it’s hard to have lost someone who was family to you.” 

Tony blinked at him, warring with his own feelings about everything that happened. Losing Happy so brutally had taken a toll on Tony, finding the body having been dumped just outside of his territory, he still hadn’t been able to fully come to terms with it. “Thank you. Finding the bastards who did that has become my main priority.” Clapping his hands together to end the topic, he moved to a stand. “You Rogers are ready to go, ready to Captain my jet?” 

Steve waited till Tony moved out of his space before moving to follow him off the jet, keeping quiet about the further mention of Tony seeking out Happy’s killer. After seeing what had happened with Bucky and the rest, he already had his own sinking suspicions as to who killed Happy and he knew Tony did as well. 

“More than ready to go.” Steve stated, coming down the steps off the jet. Tony spoke up right then. 

“Friday, let Pepper and Y/N know that Captain Rogers is ready.” That caused Steve to roll his eyes and fold his arms over his chest. 

“Seriously Tony?” 

A smirk flashed, Tony winked at him. “Come on, I think it's a fitting title for you.”

Bruce was furiously writing notes while you described to him what you remembered being under due to the drug Pierce had injected you with when the AI Friday announced that the jet was ready, as well as Captain Rogers. You and Pepper quirk a confused look at one another, and she rolled her eyes with a sigh. “That's gotta be Tony’s doing I'm sure.” 

You nod in agreement, turning back to Bruce. “Looks like it's time for me to go Dr.Banner…” 

“Bruce.” He was quick to interrupt and moved to a stand to shake your hand. “Thank you so much for this.” He tapped his pad of paper where he had all the notes jotted. “I will put them in my file to share with Shuri. All this is incredibly helpful knowing more about the serum used on you.” 

Giving a vigorous shake back, you smiled genuinely at Bruce, you and your Little Wolf feeling quite relaxed with the man. “If I think of anything, I will be sure to send an email.” The Little Wolf flicked her tail in agreement, half listening while she was napping. 

“Oh! Yes please do with anything you might remember, no bit of information is too small.”   

Pepper walked out with you and joined you in the elevator. Reaching the top of Stark Towers, you both were greeted by Steve and Tony, who waited just inside the jet. As soon as you saw Steve, warmth washed over you, feeling that bond between you two hum happily, your wolves sought each other, in the moment they both were teasing each other, making your mood lift from having to leave once more. The genuine pleasure at seeing Steve melded that away, just as his own did, the wolves happiness being together melded with your own. Steve enclosed you in his arms, nuzzling the crown of your head a moment before questioning if you were all set.

“Tony Stark is funding another trip for us? I’m absolutely ready.” You joked as Steve let you go so you could turn to face Tony who scoffed at you. 

“Don’t let Cap here defile my jet please!” Tony was sure to give you his signature hug, that made Steve rumble a bit although you instead laughed and gave a bop of your shoulder. 

“No promises Stark. Pepper, thank you for showing me around your home.” Embracing her in a thank you. 

“Stay safe and bring my jet back quickly, Cap.” Tony pipped up while walking off the jet with Pepper, cackling to himself at the finger Steve threw up while the doors shut you two in. 

The Alpha muttered to himself while dropping into the pilot's seat and you were quick to join him on the opposite side. You buckled in while he flicked on buttons. “Captain Rogers?” you questioned watching him get the jet ready. 

Steve rolled his eyes as he made sure everything was set and handed you a headset while fitting his own on, the jet rumbling to life around you. “Tony thinks he is very slick, giving nicknames. Apparently Cap is his new one for me.” 

You smirked at him, winking as you settled the headset on and spoke into the microphone. “I think Captain Rogers has its benefits, Steve.” 

His hand went around the handle and started to push it forward, edging the jet forward to take off, the spanse of New York City below you. Much like the night before, you marveled at the beauty only a city could offer. “You would Little One.” 

A voice piped up over the channel, Tony coming over the comms. “I think your mate has a point Cap.” 

Steve growled into the comm for a second while you started laughing in the seat next to him. “Tony! Get off this channel.” 

“It's my jet, Rogers! I will listen in if I want.” He was about to continue when Steve took off his headset, setting the jet on autopilot with the coordinates. 

You snickered into the system. “Sorry Tony, Steve is cutting you off. Bye Stark.” You effectively cut Tony off and slipped the head set off, setting it aside while you leaned forward to get a better look out the window, unbuckling in the process. “You know since I have been with you Steve, I have seen things I never thought I would. Look at this.” You directed your gaze at the expanse of the sky before you, baby blue as far as the eye could see, the skyline rushing closer till the two of you crossed over the cities edged, now nothing but the Atlantic underneath you. “Beautiful.” 

Steve settled back to admire what you were looking at, letting some of his worries sink to the back of his mind. “It is… sometimes I forget you haven't seen all this before.” He held out his arm for you to join him, which you pushed from your seat and settled in his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Do you remember much from the last time I showed you?” 

You perch on his knee and look over the dash, worrying your lip. “Mmh barely.” Your eyes roved over the panels while Steve dragged the tip of his nose along the curve of your neck, inhaling against it and letting it settle him further. Both the man and Alpha wanted to enjoy the long flight with you. 

“I guess we will be getting a crash course, Little One.” He rumbled happily while you seated yourself into a more comfortable position in his lap. 

You looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes laughing at his remark and bringing the exact response he wanted. “Really Captain?” 

Tightening his arm around your waist, he nipped at your lips with teasing affection. “Tony isn't the only funny one around here.” 

Steve spent a few hours describing the functions and some of how to fly. Together you both got to watch the sun going down and eventually you started napping in the copilot's seat, even though Steve tried to get you to go lay down in the back. 

These quiet moments, Steve wandered back to his memories, the Alpha in his mind lifting his head from the Little Wolf’s back where he had laid to rest, flicking his ears back and forth a bit at Steve’s thoughts. 

The first thing that came to memory was the stinging scent of smoke.

“Rogers, don't you dare go into that building!” Fury’s voice commanded Steve who stalled in the doorway, peering into Hydras base, nose flaring trying to catch scent of their missing comrades. “You are not commander in this mission.” 

“But Buck and the rest might be in there… I'm going” Steve defied Fury, darting into the darkness and out of sight, Fury's voice echoing behind him. 

“ROGERS! GET YOUR ASS BACK OUT HERE!” 

Steve continued forward, letting his Wolf out enough to sharpen his senses. His eyes picking up the bit of light in the darkened hallways leading deeper into the compound, his eyes glimmer dangerously in the dark looking for any sign of movement. He could sense others nearby, friend or foe though he was unsure. Footsteps silent, Steve once in a while looking behind him tense to make sure no one knew he was there. Glances in rooms showed them abandoned, cleared in a haste to get out before Shield got there Steve was sure. Ahead he heard scuffles and growls, chains clanking and the sound of voices in hushed tones. The Wolf lowered to his belly, quivering in anticipation should Steve allow him to take over. He eased the door open with a creak when relief washed over him. 

There men, most of them in large cages. Familiar scents washed over him and they all perked sensing Steve. 

“Rogers is that you?” Someone muttered while Steve approached, searching for a key anywhere in a nearby desk. 

“Yes, the rest of the troop is just outside. We haven't found anyone though. Where is everyone?” 

“Bolted man, once they heard Fury was coming they grabbed their shit and left. They didn’t have the bodies to defend this place.” Dugan responded as he pushed to the front watching while Steve searched the desk. Steve opened the last drawer, cursing as he pushed aside papers and flung them to the side. Then he was rewarded with a ring full of keys. Rushing over, the two men tried sorting through them, Steve stuffing them one by one in the locks, quick to go to the next till they found another. 

“They left us and their experiments.” Dugan continued filling Steve in while he tried to find the right keys. “Some messed up stuff, they are in the next room I think.”

The Alpha rumbled to catch Steve’s attention. <Bucky isn’t with them.> The mans head whipped up while the lock clicked finally, able to pry it open and release his packmates. 

“Where is Buck?”  

“Bucky… he was brought in there and never came back out.” another said, pointing at the door across the room.

The Alpha rumbled suddenly in an alert and Steve tensed and whipped around when an eerily sharp howl sounded through the building. Dugan pushed the door open, tensing as well. “That's one of them, their experiments.” 

Steve wrangled the keys out of the lock and started to go down the line, unlocking each cage, shifters passing him to get outside. 

“Fury, you have outcoming hostages, they are friendly, don't fire.” Steve spoke into the comm. 

“I hear you Rogers.” Came Fury’s voice in a wave of static. “Any unfriendlies?” 

“No, Dugan notified me they all bailed once they heard we were coming” Steve responded before turning to his friend. “Dugan, get the rest out of here, I’m going to keep looking.” 

His friend bared his teeth at him, bristling at the notion. “You don’t know what's back there Rogers.” 

“If I have to, I will retreat, get these men out of here. I’m not leaving anyone behind.” Steve growled back deeper, the Alpha in him asserting himself and the man backed off with a disgruntled nod. 

Waiting to make sure they were going to leave, Steve approached the door cautiously, using his senses to pick up what might be on the other side, who might be on the other side. He was praying for a miracle, because nothing but death filled his senses as he eyed the door, drawing in any scent left behind. It was all jumbled, multitudes of men and women have passed through the threshhold, making it almost impossible to pinpoint any specific person. “Well… let's see what's on the other side.” Steve shouldered through the door and a lab stretched before him, ominous equipment stretched on either side. A groan came from somewhere ahead and Steve paused till he heard it again. It was so distinct to him that the hair on the back of his neck prickled, the Alphas own fur raising as well along the ridge of his back, it was another Alpha, but this one they knew. 

“Oh thank fucking god.” Steve uttered as he rushed forward to find Bucky strapped down and Steve started pulling at the straps holding him down. Wires were strapped all over Bucky's neck and chest and stretched to attach to some equipment, Steve started yanking them off as well when finally Bucky started to come around. 

“S-Steve?” His eyes sharpened and he clutched at Steve's uniform, worried that he wasn't real. 

“It’s me Buck, we’re getting out of here.” Steve tried assuring him, keeping his voice light and calm even though he was far from that. He had never seen Bucky so scared. Suddenly the howling started again from the back of the room and both men glanced that way. 

“Whoever it is just keeps doing that.” Bucky muttered when a voice crackled in the comms. 

“In-ing” then static sounded in Steve's ear, making him wince as he pressed his hand over his ear. 

“Repeat? What was that Fury?” 

“In-oming! G-t Ou-” The building started to shake and lights started zapping and popping around them. 

“We ca-t hold hi-, Get O-” Fury yelled into the comm but Steve had to rip it out, electricity zapping through it and breaking it up too much. Bucky gripped Steve tighter, his pupils blown in his panic. 

“What the fuck is it now?!” 

“I don't know… but we gotta get out of here.” Bucky started pulling Steve towards the exit, but whatever was in the back rattled its cage with a savage snarl, and Steve couldn’t leave who ever or what ever it was behind. He stuttered to a stop, Bucky pausing at the door with a shake of his head. 

“Man, we got to go… there isn't enough time.” 

Steve’s hands dropped to his pants and felt madly for the keys he had stuffed in his pocket earlier. “We can’t leave him in there Buck.” He waved his hand. “Go, I got this.” 

Bucky cursed but held tight, refusing to leave Steve behind.  

Steve raced towards the cage to free whatever was inside, shoving the key he used before into the lock and it clicked to open. Glowering green eyes blinked at him from the shadowed part of the cage, but he couldn't make anything else out in the seconds he got the door open. Bucky was screaming his name and when he managed to get the door to swing wide, a bundle of black sprang on his chest, bared white fangs yawning open going for Steve’s throat….

“Steve- Steve?” Your voice cut through and he shook his head a bit to clear it before looking at you. 

“Sorry, I thought you were sleeping Little One.” 

“I was, but the computer started beeping on the dash.” You pointed to a blinking light and Steve leaned forward to check the system, smiling. 

“We're here and just in time to. Look” He pointed out the window at the faint purple in the skyline, the sun easing up beyond the cloud cover to turn a brilliant red and orange of dawn. When Steve took over, he started to drop the jet down. Below the clouds the land turned a deep almost emerald wild green shimmering with mist stretching like tendrils to a spiderweb over the land, still in the early morning phase of waking up. 

You weren't lying earlier when you said you saw things you had never expected. From the rainforest and safari of Wakanda to the lush greenery of Norway, you soaked it all in with awe. So long spent locked away in a room, gazing with longing at the upper windows that offered nothing more than peeks of the sky. Now you soared over the world with your Mate. Even the Little Wolf was in awe, slithering away from where the Alpha was half sleeping and prancing excitedly with joy at the adventure. The Alpha stretched out, arching his back and padded heavily after her, nuzzling her affectionately while her tail waved back and forth, unable to stay still in her excitement. 

“The Little Wolf is excited.” You told Steve and he winked at you. 

“I can feel it. What do you say we take her down?” 

Steve easily maneuvered the Stark Jet down to land in a wide open field bordering the ocean. You followed him towards the doors swinging open and already wolves appeared from the long grass with tilted heads checking out the newcomers. You sidled up to Steve’s side a moment, watching the wolves dart back out of sight in the tall grass and heard their howls break the silence, announcing their arrival. It was a welcome sound, you couldn't detect any hostility in the notes. But their songs were so different. Sounded much older, almost like a language all its own. 

Steve cupped his hand and gave a sharp “We’re here” yip, that was answered resoundingly from all around you, the pack having circled you two and remained just out of sight. His arm lowered around your shoulders and you held your breath, unsure of what to expect. A bellow came, joyful and loud as a tall blonde man, even taller than Steve stepped out, his arms opened wide in greeting. 

“Why what a surprise! Are you here for the Asgard hospitality? I didn't think anything would ever get you to leave your corner in the world.” The over sized man strode towards them rather quickly, and the closer he came the more your eyes widened. You didn't think you had seen anyone who was as bigger then Steve in stature. He clasped Steve's shoulder and directed his joyful gaze down at you. “And who is this lovely maiden you bring with you?” 

“If I could be there, trust me I would. This is my mate, Y/N. Y/N, this is Thor, the Alpha here.” Steve protectively wrapped an arm around you, even though you wore his mark for Thor to see, Alphas always had a bit of tension between them no matter how much their human counterparts tried to quell it. 

Thor though seemed unaware of such a vibe as he beamed down at you warmly. “Well Little Pup, welcome to Asgard.” He took your hand in a vigorous pump and you couldn't help but warm right up to him and his exuberant nature. “We run free and feast like we are in the halls of the Old Kings here.” He swept the both of you down the path and all around his wolves started to howl and dance in a joyful manner, playing among each other much like they were participating in the Full Moon Run. “Now Rogers does tell me what has been going on across the water? It's been a while since I've visited there.” 

“Afraid we have been having some issues.” Steve started, filling Thor in on the recent attacks, taking apart the packs and capturing the Alpha’s. The viciousness in the attacks and the destruction left behind. Thor listened patiently until Steve mentioned Hydra. That's when he paused, you and Steve having taken a few steps ahead but noticed he wasn't with you. You turned to see him glowering. 

“That's why you are here, Rogers, isn't it? Because of Hydra. He wont talk to you about it you know.” 

Steve sighed and you had a sinking feeling about the situation, not fully understanding what was going on. 

“I have to try Thor, your brother was the only one who was able to break from the collars power and the mind shit Hydra does to their victims.” 

“He barely interacts with any of us Steve, he mostly stays as his animal out there.” Thor retorted, the sky started to darken slightly and you frowned to yourself at the sudden change in atmosphere while glancing up. 

Steve sighed, letting his arms hang loose at his sides to show Thor he was no threat to him. “I know Odinson, trust me. I wouldn’t be here if there was any other way. Packs, families are all being killed off, Alphas removed. How long till you think it will be till it comes over here?” Steve pointed out and Thor’s face twisted and he looked away. 

“It won’t be like before, I won’t let it.” 

“You don't know that… Shield risked sending the Howling Commando’s over here to help your people, now I’m asking for your help. Just let me try talking to him?” 

Your heart twisted as you saw Thor try to control his emotions on his face and you reached out to touch his arm, Steve for once kept quiet, inhaling deeply to keep himself in check. “Hydra really hurt him, didn't they? If it's too much we will just leave. Right Steve?” 

“If you tell me absolutely not Thor, she’s right. We will leave right now and not bother you again.” 

Thor glanced back at you, his eyes searching yours and you could see everything he was doing was about protecting this person. You bit at your lip nervously, you knew you were invading this Alpha’s space but stepped in closer anyways. “Please let us try? We just want to save those we still have left. Our packmates are fighting a losing battle with Hydra, we don't want to lose them.” 

A sigh escaped the man and he glanced over your head to Steve. “You're lucky you have her you know… she’s softened me. Slightly.” You stepped back towards Steve, who now laid his hand around your waist, chuckling softly. 

“You really don’t know half of it, she has a gift.” You wriggled in his hold a bit but he just tightened his fingers against you. “Thank you Thor for letting us try.” 

He shrugged at you both with a shake of his head. “I'm still saying that he wont talk to you, but I will show you where he stays when he is not hunting.” 

Steve gave a nod of appreciation while you reached for his hand and gave a light squeeze. “Thank you Thor.” You gave your own sentiments. 

The man looked at the two of you a moment, his eyes falling to your linked hands and motioned across the moors. “This way…” He cupped his hands, giving another howling song and the wolves joined them, spreading around Thor, these wolves were even larger than Mountain Packs wolves, giant beasts that were moving gracefully around there Alpha. You could feel the ground beneath your footfalls vibrating from there movements, the lush grass swishing to add to the melody of it all. Above them the thunder still rumbled with strong booms that cackled with electricity but had retreated from the fierceness it had flared up earlier. 

Your Little Wolf kneaded her paws next to the Alpha, lifting her head to inhale the air around them, it spoke of a wildness she was not used to. Something feral that did not adhere to normal pack constraints. The Alpha rumbled next to her, now and then dropping his muzzle to his mate to reassure her, but the pull to shift for both of them was strong. 

You could tell Steve felt it as well, the way he angled his body close to yours in a protective manner, his hand moving from a simple hold to pressing against your hip, wrapping around you. You tilted your head up towards Steve, your confusion clouding your features. He dropped his head to press a nip to your neck, whispering softly just for you. “I will explain later.” 

Thor paused in front of a wood that looked ancient, the gnarled trees had stories to tell. Shadows played deeper beyond the edge, enticing you to wander in. Your Little Wolf huffed slightly, breaking the enchantment you had fallen into. 

<This isn't just a forest Y/N, something powerful lives here.> Her ears flattened and you could feel her unease and the Alpha’s wariness sharpening, his ears pricked forward before twisting listening. 

What is it? You questioned your Little Wolf and she whined unsure. You felt the Alpha slip away, in the same moment Steve tilted his face up, his nostrils flaring. You knew he was scenting for any kind of danger that might come from the old forest.

Next to you Thor boomed out loudly, making it echo. “Come out Loki!” You and the Little Wolf perked, hearing the woods shift and groan, shadows danced closer when a streamlined black shadow emerged to turn solid, the beast was streamlined. His size shifting to grow larger in the presence of you and Steve, a sharp pointed muzzle turned towards you and ears twitched with interest as he took you both in. You were a bit taken aback when you saw Loki, but he paused just after the forest ended and you could see the tip of his nose twitching, green eyes with almost emerald qualities glinting with the bit of light that somehow seemed to filter from the thunderous clouds still rumbling above you. 

What do we have here? An omega to Rogers? A true Omega? Oh what a prize he really does have here. I wonder if he knows… A voice tickled your senses and the Little Wolf spun in your mind, searching for the intrusion. The Alpha returned to the Little Wolf, curling around her with a growl and a laugh echoed through you, not one that belonged to you. 

“Steve…” You whined a bit and he furrowed his brow looking at you, confused as well as to what was going on, feeling you through your bond. 

“Rogers is here to talk with you Loki, come out and quit playing games Brother.” Thor folded muscular arms across his chest and the black canine shimmered an emerald green while disappearing in a wisp of shadow and a sharp yip barking out from nowhere. 

A resounding defiant No. 

Thor shook his head at Steve. “Loki won't interact with Alphas short of me Steve, not since Shield pulled him from Hydra.” 

The Little Wolf unweaved from the Alpha when she heard Thor. 

<Y/N, we’re not an Alpha. Maybe he will talk to us.> 

Steve would never allow us to go in there alone. 

<It's the only way, Loki won't talk to Steve. He's too much of a threat to him. Say something, that big Alpha doesn't seem scared that Loki will hurt us.> 

You took a deep breath and while Thor and Steve discussed other options, you turned to the men, catching there attention. “Let me go in and talk to him.” Steve immediately barked out a no, but Thor tilted his head, considering what you were saying. “I'm not an Alpha, he won't be threatened by me, right Thor?” You pressed for an answer from the man and he nodded. 

“Your Little Pup has a point, Rogers. Loki wouldn't hurt her. I will escort her inside so she’s protected the whole way.” 

Steve felt his chest expand as he drew up to his full height. “I'm not letting Y/N go in by herself, I know you trust your brother, but I don't.” His eyes flared yellow, the Alpha close to the surface with concerns of your safety. You could see that he was winding up to call all this off when you reached up to grasp his face between your palms, tilting his head to look directly at you. 

“Alpha trust me, I know I can do this.” You stressed to him, the furrow in his forehead deepening as you knew he was at war with himself. “If anything is wrong, I will call you. Let me do this.” His hands circled your wrists and you felt that war inside of him. The same one where it was ingrained in him to keep you safe at all costs. It was all right there, flooding through the bond you two shared, your confidence, his worry. Steve huffed slightly before lifting his gaze from yours.  

“Thor, give me a moment with my mate please.” Steve requested and Thor moved away, closer towards the border of his brother’s forest, his broad back turned towards the two of you while he waited. “Little One, if something happens. Loki isn't a normal wolf…” 

“I could tell that as soon as we came near here.” You let your fingers press through his beard on his cheeks and slide down to his neck, sure to rub his scent against you in the process as well as sharing calming touches. “But he has the answers we need, Alpha.” 

Steve knew you were right, but the inner battle was fierce. The Alpha wanted to protect his mate, an animalistic need to not let you go into that forest, every fiber of his being was on edge because of it. His human side knew you could do this and get the answer to save their pack mates. You were confident, he needed to trust you like you asked. 

<Don't you let her go in there with that Alpha. What is Loki going to do to stop us.> 

Loki is not all Wolf as you well know, he won't tolerate the intrusion. 

The Alpha bristled aggressively, licking his muzzle over and over nervously. <We won't be there to protect her should he turn on her.> 

But Thor will be… You know as much as I do that he wouldn't let any get hurt in his care. 

“Trust me Alpha.” Your fingers trailed along the mark you had left on him, your mark that made him belong to you. The most sacred of bonds a mated pair could share and made in the utmost trust that you two would take care of each other. 

She is asking us to trust her. If we can’t trust in our mate, then what hope do we have? Steve was firm and the Alpha had to concede to him. 

Steve moved his hands to your face, cupping the most important part of his life gently in his palms as he inhaled deeply and tipped his forehead against yours. “Little One, if anything happens, anything at all, call for me. I will come get you.” 

The corners of your mouth lifted and he saw it go to your eyes, pride and strength that your Alpha was trusting you to go in his place. “Of course Alpha.” You lifted to catch his lips, nuzzling your nose against his. “I know you will come for me if I need you.” You embraced him fiercely, Steve let his nose bury in the crown of your head and then let you go against his instincts. The Wolf rumbled, anxious as he paced watching you reach Thor. His eyes reached the other Alphas. “Thor…” 

“I understand what is at stake. No harm will come to her, I swear it.” 

You looked so tiny next to the man, your head tilted up to look at him with a warm smile and Thor's tilted down to look back at you. Steve watched the same warm smile cross Thor's face, making your mate proud of you, how easily you had already won Thor over. You had come so far from the runaway he first met and your warmth spread so easily to those around you. Maybe Loki wouldn't be immune to you. 

The moment you stepped into the forest with Thor, it darkened. Looking over your shoulder, the emerald green sea of the moor was almost a picture racing away to be enclosed by old tree trunks. You licked your lips nervously and folded your arms around your body, sure to keep up with Thor. He was confident in his strides, the darkening vibrant woods was just as much home for him as the windswept open land you two left behind. 

The Little Wolf was curious in the new surroundings, pacing and keeping a keen eye on everything you were hurriedly passing by trying to keep up with Thor. 

You weren't wrong that the forest had a life all its own. It seemed to breathe around you, moss stretched across large boulders that sprang tendrils of plant life curling upwards to try and reach sunlight. Heavy thick trees were bristling against your palm and almost seemed to heave in sighs at your gentle touch. Thor glanced back at you, golden tendrils clinging to his face now and his eyes crinkled in watching you loosen from your fear into awe. 

“You feel it, right?” He chuckled and you withdrew your hand from the tree back to your body. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Its soul, the magic in it all.” He braced against a tree and inhaled deeply. “All of this is very alive as you and I, it's old and has been standing long before we claimed this as home.” 

You tentatively touched a nearby tree again, feeling tingles in your palms, making you shudder a bit. “It is certainly… like home, but not quite.” 

Thor nodded with a wink. “Still a baby over there, your packs are just starting to write the stories that will live on after you are gone. One day they will have a life of their own, just like this one.” 

Your brows quirked at his words. He's a funny man isn't he. 

Your Little Wolf curled her tail around herself as she sat down. <He is, but I like him. This place feels like we belong here.> 

There does seem to be a certain calling to be here… 

You two continued on and you risked another statement. “Loki is not like you, is he?” 

Thor shook his head. “No, he is not. But you have no need to worry Little Wolf.” He paused while he glanced around, inhaling sharply. “It's just me and Y/n, Brother, come out of hiding.” 

“I'm not hiding, I can't help that you are not a more observant Brother.” A cool voice came from above and your eyes shot up to a long legged man lounging in the branches, looking almost like he couldn't be bothered. Thor snorted impatiently and motioned towards you. 

“Y/N has some questions for you.” 

Vivid green eyes fell on you and a cool grin formed as he moved to sit up and slide down. He walked in such a predatory way, almost circling you. The Little Wolf's hackles raised at him and you hitched yourself straighter. You felt that tingle in your mind again. 

Why is it your Alpha is sending you in here for Omega? My brother is right, you are just a little pup aren’t you, so new to the world...

You snarled out loud, glaring at him. “You are not welcome in my mind, and I’m no pup.” And a quick withdrawal left you and Little Wolf alone once more. You could feel your Alphas curling warmth in your mind, even if he couldn't be with you. 

Respect crossed Loki's features and he bowed his head. “Forgive my intrusion. It's not often I'm sought out, except by Thor that is.” Thor barked out a deep bellowing laugh, clasping your shoulder. 

“You can't use your tricks on this one, she is small but fierce. Her Alpha has great respect for her.” 

Loki gave a slight sniff, his green eyes sliding over you as he remarked. “I’m afraid you are right.” 

You shrugged out of Thor’s grasp now, wanting the answers you came for. “Loki, our packmates have been collared by Hydra. Steve seems to think that you know how to break from their control. Please, is there any way to break the hold they have on them.” Loki suddenly appeared next to you, his fingers catching a lock of your hair and pressing it between his fingers for a moment as if further inspecting you. You jumped and pulled away from him, making Thor growl a warning at him. But you narrowed your gaze at him, knowing well that he was testing you. You had seen it all before while living with Pierce. “Don't touch me Loki, only Steve is allowed to. How did you do that anyways, appear next to me?” 

His fingers swirled slightly, green wisps dancing around his nimble long fingers. “Magic Dear. I'm part Coyote, a Trickster. Sure your Alpha told you?” 

You shook your head. “No… He doesn't talk much about his life in Shield.” Your Little Wolf crooned in comfort, knowing sometimes you were worried about how he would be so vague about it. 

“Well it was a dark time for the shifters.” Loki admitted and glanced at his brother. “I don't much like discussing that time either.” You clenched your jaw a moment, worried he was going to flat out refuse your requests but he dipped his head. “But for you Dear, you boldly come out here without your Alpha, that deserves to have your questions answered. Come…” He beckoned to you and led you away, Thor was not far behind. Soon a small dwelling came into view and the door yawned open, which Loki stepped in. 

Inside was different from what you were expecting. Books lined shelves upon shelves, seeming to go on forever. Plush chairs were dotted near a fireplace and wooden carvings dotted the entire area. Wood shavings littered the floor, making you smile a bit because it reminded you of your Alpha, the fresh wood scent enveloping you. The place was cozy, almost like something from a story book. Of course, this whole experience was making you feel that way, like some sort of fairytale your mother would have told you before bed. Thor heavily fell into a nearby chair, quiet as his brother waved at a seat in offering to you.   

Loki approached a shelf and whispered under his breath till a box fell into his hands. Easing it open, he pulled out a collar. Silver strands weaved together into an intricate design. “This one was mine, but it stopped working on me after a time. So it was just useless metal. Why Hydra had kept me caged when Steve found me.” He handed it to you and you were caught by surprise at how light it was. Studying it closer, you could see twists of coarse black fur wedged through it where it sat on Loki’s neck. 

“Why did it stop working?” You asked curiously and Loki settled down in one of the seats. 

“Simple, I willed for my freedom. Most of the wolves have such a strong desire to follow an Alpha. Even the Alphas themselves can be forced to follow a stronger one should they come across one. Hydra didn't know I wasn't a Wolf, not completely. I can't be controlled in the same way for long. But it's that simple in how to get your wolves back. Your Alpha has to challenge them for control. Assert that he is stronger than the one controlling them with the collars.”  

You handed his collar back to him and Loki flicked his wrist to send it back to the box, the box flashing away in the same green blaze you had seen earlier. “That's all it takes?” You asked incredulously. Loki shrugged with a nod. 

“Hydra though is led by someone who has a power that no Wolf should have. It's how they are able to control such a large and secret organization for such a long time. But such power can always be challenged.” He drifted off, looking away into the fire he had burning in the fireplace. 

You let the silence sit for a few moments before speaking up. 

“Why wouldn't you talk to Steve?” 

Loki gave a slight roll of eyes. “I don't care for Alpha’s, they always feel the need to challenge and dominate. I've dealt with that enough in my life. I choose to live on the edges of my own Pack, still a member should Thor need my assistance and the rest leave me in peace.” 

“Then why me? You seemed interested in me being an Omega.” The Little Wolf stopped her pacing for just a moment, head tilted in curiosity. 

“Because true Omegas do not need to dominate or be controlled by anyone.” Loki turned towards you, his head tilting into your direction. “You might always submit to your Alpha, but that's a choice you and your wolf make together, consciously or not. If you were to ever truly want to defy him, you easily could. It's why you were able to make me leave when I was exploring your mind.” You rolled your eyes a bit at the trickster, clearly not believing him. A life time of being made to submit to Pierce against your will and the recent incidents with Steve... you felt he had you mistaken. “ You can roll your eyes at me all you want Little Pup, but I know what I’m talking about. Omega’s can be a threat to Alpha’s or for the right one, there everything. Really depends on the Alpha they are connected to. So I like you Little Omega, you are a challenge for me.” He winked and you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the smile you gave to him. After all was said and done, you liked the Trickster. 

“Is there anything else you can tell me? How did you get the collar off?” You asked and Loki motioned towards Thor. 

“That was me. After Fury contacted me that Loki was with the Howling Commando’s Unit, I went to bring him home. I can provide you two with a special knife made to deal with unnatural made materials.” Loki rubbed at his face and his front door sprang open, a rush of air billowing into the dwelling. 

“Now I have answered your questions Omega, I can feel your Alpha pacing my border anxious. It's getting on my nerves. Return to him so he can settle back down.” 

You nodded, letting your senses open a bit and sure enough Steve was anxious, although far physically, you could feel him. Nodding as you approached Loki, you held out your hand to him. He eyed it a moment, and then slid his own in yours respectfully to give a shake. “Perhaps soon we will cross paths again, Little Omega.” 

“Perhaps we will Trickster.” You bid a final goodbye and now you left a bit more at ease, having the information you and Steve needed to save your family. 

[darlingpetao3]

House of W (Multiple!Wells x Reader, Chapter 9)

Rating: T

Summary: After having to deal with the deaths of an infinite number of Harrison Wells in the Multiverse, you, a magic-wielding meta, have a breakdown and unwittingly create a happy, fictitious sitcom life with some of your favourite men. In a world of comedy and cameos, can Team Flash and an out-of-town magician break through your powers to save you? And what if you don’t want to be saved...?

A/N: Well folks, it’s the final chapter... I’m not sure it’s actually all that great, but here it is and I hope it’s well received, nonetheless! Thanks for coming on this crazy ride with me <3

Tag List: @fandomdancer​ @bluesclues-1234​ @crissymadlock @firstofficer-tilly​ @disneyoncerlover815​ @marvel-lady10 @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @noctvrnalmoth​ @alexxlynn @dontbedumb3​ @heyl0lwhatsup @ryou-cosmos​ @arianalilyblack​ @sonnensplitter​ @imagine-yourself-happy​ @stuckysdaughter​ @wintersire @i-dont-care-lol​ @booksandfandomsarelife1 @marvelhastakenovermybeing​ @marisughh​

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 | CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 8

Eobard Thawne clutches his fist down beside him, surely feeling the surge of Speed Force energy running through his entire body once more. He looks like he’s just taken a hit of the most addictive drug—eyes flashing a dangerous crimson, his whole being vibrating at the speed of sound before everyone’s eyes.

The Reverse Flash turns to Libby and Belle—who both remain frozen in place out of sheer shock after realizing that this man isn’t who he claimed to be—and gives them one of his iconic shit-eating grins.

“Thank you, girls,” he says smugly. “I couldn’t have achieved any of this without you. The next time I have your real uncle under my boot, I’ll think of you wonderful girls.”

“What have we done…?” Belle whispers rhetorically to her sister. A speechless Liberty only shakes her head in reply.

Eobard locks eyes with Barry, who stands in the doorway to the kitchen. The villain smirks before he bolts off, running upward along the diminishing forcefield wall and out through one the holes forming in it. Barry watches on as he decides to let his adversary go. He’s learned by now it’s never the last time he’ll see Eobard Thawne. That bastard always seems to find a way back into everyone’s lives. He’s like a cockroach that won’t stay dead.

Yes… Barry will come face to face with the Reverse Flash again. He may not know when, but when he does, he’ll be ready.

Because right now, you need him.

Your world is falling apart.

Again.

The forcefield continues to fall slowly from above. Your time is limited. You know that in mere minutes, everything will disappear, including the people you love. 

“Mom, we’re so, so sorry,” Belle tells you desperately. “We thought he was just teaching us how to perfect our powers. It felt like a game!”

“My dear, sweet girls,” you look them straight in the eyes as you explain to them, “I assure you both, it’s not your fault. Okay? You had no idea who he really was or what he was capable of. It’s not your fault, do you understand me?” They nod through their tears. “You two may have grown up incredibly fast, far too fast for my liking, in fact, but I am so thrilled that you were- are mine. You will always be my little girls. No matter what.”

“Thank you for being our mom,” Liberty says to you in all seriousness.

“No one is cooler or stronger than you,” Belle adds with a smile very reminiscent of her fathers’. If these two aren’t careful, you’re going to completely lose it in front of them.

Off in the distance, you spot Barry watching this heartfelt scene play out. You wave him over to meet his nieces, so he can see what you’ve created for yourself up close and personal. Libby and Belle should meet their real uncle, a true hero, before they’re…

Barry places a hand each on the girls’ shoulders. See, Barry? They’re real. And I’ll lose them too. Do you feel my pain now? This is what I live through all the time.

Barry’s eyes begin to glisten until the tiny bulbs of tears hold still, unwilling to fall just yet.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you both,” he tells them. “You’re both such bright stars.” They give bittersweet smiles up at him in silence. You don’t think they fully understand what will come to pass in mere minutes, but you do. You can feel it in your bones.

Barry steps back from your family unit so that you all can have one more last moment together. You take this final opportunity to bring your girls in close for a tight hug, letting a sob escape you despite trying to keep it together for your family. You wave a hand over to your husbands as if to gesture for them to get in on this family group hug, and quickly. They do so promptly, all four of them enveloping you, Liberty, and Belle as if to form a loving hug shield.

“I love you,” you make sure to say these three precious words, making eye contact to each and every one of those you have magicked into being here with you today… before they disintegrate before your very eyes.

And soon enough, you can’t even feel them anymore. The forcefield has vanished within the Lab’s basement, along with the Wells and the twins.

You cry. You shake and your body wracks with the sort of sobs that hurt your throat. Barry makes sure he holds you tightly. Caitlin approaches carefully and ends up holding your hand. Then it’s Cisco who puts his own hand on your shoulder as everyone else in the room looks on at your despair.

***

After some much-needed rest in the Medbay, you awake to a spookily quiet Labs. You’re not sure of the time (or day, even), but regardless, you figure it’s best to head home. Goodness knows it’s probably still in shambles. That’ll need to be fixed.

You heave a sigh as you leave the Cortex.

“Come on, you can sigh louder than that.”

You turn around to find the unexpected voice belonging to Zatanna. You imagine she must have had to recoup as well from the amount of magic she would have used to break through to your world.

“Oh, hey,” you say tiredly. “I take it you’re on your way, then?”

“Yeah, I have a show in Coast City in two days, so I better head off.”

“Listen, I’m really sorry to have brought you into all this madness.”

“No, please. If anything, I should thank you as well as offer my condolences... Your magic is something I've never seen before. Honestly, I’m still intrigued by it.” Zatanna hesitates. “Would it be weird if I gave you my contact information? I don’t come across many others with true magic. I’d love to keep in touch. Maybe we could learn from each other?”

“Yes, of course,” you agree. “I think that’s a great idea.” She hands you her card—a glittery black business card with her name and number.

“So, hey,” she says, “You going to be okay?”

You take a few seconds to think her question over.

“I think, in time, I could be,” you answer truthfully.

“I know it may not be much,” Zatanna says, “but one of my powers involves granting wishes. Before I go, is there anything I can do for you? You’ve been through so much. I’ve seen it. And everybody has something they're hoping for. Something they wish they could change…” She pauses, waiting for your answer, but also seems distracted. You wonder what kind of life this woman has led. What has she done in her past that she regrets or wishes for from the bottom of her heart?

“I only wish for Harrison Wells to be in my life,” you answer honestly. Is that so much to ask for? It seems to be that way.

“Is that what your heart most desires?”

You sigh. “More than anything.”

There’s another pause.

“You know, sometimes you’ll find that our wishes come true on their own, even without magic,” the magician points out ominously.

“That’s code for “I just can’t make that wish come true,” isn’t it?” you joke, somewhat.

“The people that we love—they’re only gone when we stop carrying them with us. How you choose to carry Harrison Wells is up to you.”

You let that sink in and press a hand to your heart. He will always be here with you. Right here. You’ll make sure of it.

“I wish you all the luck and magic in the world, (Y/N),” Zatanna says kindly. “It was nice to meet you.”

You nod in thanks, unsure of how to respond to that. With her aged, thick book under her arm, Zatanna Zatara walks down the S.T.A.R. Labs corridor, but you swear her body vanishes before she rounds the corner…

Despite all the trouble you’ve put her through—everyone, really—with all of this, you can still take comfort in the act of making a new friend.

As you walk through the empty hallways of the Labs, you make it to where the elevator lies. You go to press the button to summon the machine when a ding sounds before your finger even touches the button. The doors slide open, and the face that greets you shocks you to your very core.

“Hello, there,” he says.

In fact, you are so stunned that you take a step back, but in doing so, you stumble and begin to topple over. Luckily, a certain someone’s quick arms catch you in time.

The face you know all too well, Harrison Wells, that is, glows with a calm happiness as he looks down at you in his arms. Behind immaculate see-through frames, his pretty blues eyes twinkle like the stars. He smiles like he knows you. You stare up in disbelief, in relief, and in love.

“Hello… Harrison.”

[taggingtim]

Why I love Pre-Boot Tim Drake and why the Reboot has ruined him

I love Tim Drake.  He is my favorite comic book character of all time.  I’ve been really upset the past few days about what DC has been doing with him lately, and I thought it would be cathartic for me to write something up about it.  (No, this isn’t a rant about Tim being bi/gay; it’s a much larger problem than that. But I’ll get to that in a bit.) Bear with me for a bit of history, first.

When I was a kid I loved the Batman Animated Series.  I know this will lose me a lot of internet cred, but I always preferred the fourth season. In particular, I loved Tim Drake. He was fun and funny and I absolutely adored him.  I used to beg my mom to take me to the mall so I could buy issues of Gotham Adventures. For my birthday one year my parents got me a subscription to the comic, and I was blown away by the idea that I could have comics MAILED to my HOUSE.

Around middle school I started collecting Marvel comics, mostly X-men stuff.  I loved them, but when I started college I quit the hobby for financial reasons.

 Fast forward a few years, and I felt I was financially stable enough to start buying comics again. Rather than going back to Marvel, I decided to give Batman comics a chance.  I had no idea where to start, and when I found out my beloved Tim had his own comic series, I thought it was a perfect entry point into the Batman universe. I bought the complete series from a local comic shop and dove in.

 Tim’s Robin series was exactly what I was looking for in a comic.  He was very different from little Timmy Todd from BtAS, but I loved him. I built the rest of my comic collection around him, grabbing up every book that he was featured in, from Young Justice to Teen Titans to Batman, Detective Comics, Nightwing, Red Robin, and many others.  I have random books from series like The Demon just because Tim was in them.

 So why did I like Tim so much?  What about this character made me so excited for more?  I found in Tim something that I had never seen in a comic book before: character growth.  Somehow, though he was written by many different authors over many different years, Tim managed to have a character arc that is consistent and makes sense. Sure, there were a few small bumps along the way, but on the whole Tim has always stayed true to his character, and he’s developed in a way that the big name characters, like Batman, never can.

 When we’re first introduced to Tim, he’s a young teen who has been neglected by his parents growing up. He’s smart, healthy, and strong, but he lacks so much self confidence and has little sense of self worth.  Tim notices Bruce’s increasing violence as he grieves for the loss of his son, and Tim knows he needs to step in and help.  Batman needs a Robin.

 For most characters, this would be the part where Tim put himself forward for the job.  But he doesn’t.  He seeks out Dick Grayson and begs him to come home instead.  It’s only when Batman and Nightwing are in danger and there is literally no one else to help that Tim steps up and dons the cape. And once he does, he’s constantly plagued by self-doubt, terrified he will screw up and leave Batman worse than ever before.

 From there, Tim undergoes intense training.  He never begs to be in the spotlight, doesn’t push to go out on the streets before he’s ready.  His goal is to help Bruce as much as possible.

 Here’s where I started to fall in love with him.  All that self-doubt, the constant need to be useful?  That’s exactly what you would expect to see from a child whose parents had ignored and neglected him.  He finally has a parental figure who sees him, who values him, and Tim does everything he can to make himself worthy in the hopes that Bruce will keep him around.

 This is the first example of character consistency that we see with Tim.  And it continues.  When his mom dies and his dad is put in a coma, you see Tim struggle to come to terms with losing the people he loves, but never had a relationship with.  Tim almost never mentions his mom after her death, because she just wasn’t present in his life.  When his dad recovers and decides to stick around, Tim struggles to build a relationship with him.  He’s plagued with guilt because he’s finally found the father figure he needed in Bruce, but he thinks that he’s supposed to feel that way for Jack.  It’s a running undercurrent in their relationship that creates distance between them for years.

 This is already so long, so I’m going to try to summarize a bit more.  We get to watch Tim grow up.  We see his awkward relationship with his first girlfriend, Ariana.  He doesn’t know how to treat her; he’s never had the opportunity to observe a healthy relationship.  But he tries so, so hard.  All of Tim’s relationships are awkward, because he’s never had a model of a good one. Steph is a great match for him, because she’s very vocal about what she wants and needs, and she isn’t afraid to call Tim out when he messes up, which is exactly what Tim needs.

 Big things happen to Tim. He’s stuck with Jean-Paul Valley, who slowly goes insane, leaving Tim to try to keep the city in one piece.  He’s infected with the Clench, a plague that sweeps over Gotham and kills everyone it touches, and barely escapes with his life. His girlfriend is sexually assaulted, leaving him to deal with the fallout.  His family moves out of Gotham, and he has to sneak back in during No Man’s Land to help.  His relationship with his dad has intense ups and downs, resulting in him being sent to boarding school, punished in a variety of ways, and generally caused a lot of trouble in his life.

 Then people start dying. Over the course of about a year in his life, Tim loses his girlfriend, his dad, a close friend, and his best friend, each of whom dies under tragic conditions.  Tim’s grief is intense, and he is understandably traumatized by the losses. We see fundamental changes in his character.  He changes his costume from something bright and cheerful to something darker that reflects his emotional state.  He’s more subdued, his adventures a little more serious.

 When Bruce first tries to adopt him, Tim literally creates an uncle and hires an actor to play him, just to avoid dealing with the situation.  Bruce has viewed Tim as a son for years, so to him the adoption is an obvious step.  For Tim, it feels like a betrayal of his father, and it takes a while before he’s ready to accept Bruce’s love, home, and a place in his family.  

 When Damian shows up on the scene, Tim really struggles with him, and not just because early Damian is a horrid brat who tries to kill Tim on multiple occasions.  Tim has always felt the need to earn his place with Bruce, and Damian constantly throws all of Tim’s biggest fears in his face—he’s not wanted or needed now that the “real” son is here, he’s not worthy of a place in the family, he’s not good enough.

 Tim tries to clone Conner, his best friend.  He’s lost so many people, and he’s desperate to get them back.  Conner was cloned to begin with and fully matured over a very short period of time; the technology clearly exists, so why can’t Tim use it to get his best friend back?  And if he can get Conner back, why not the others he’s lost?  He eventually gives up, but when he eventually gets access to a Lazarus Pit, he immediately wants to incorporate the waters into his process so he can revive his loved ones.  With Dick’s help, Tim eventually decides to let it go, but it’s such a poignant moment for the character.

 Then Bruce dies, and Dick takes Robin away.  Tim switches to the Red Robin persona as he travels the world, alone, trying to prove that he was right.  He has to deal with the trauma of losing another father, finds out that his girlfriend never died but let him hurt so much for so long.  His brother and the only close friend he has left both think his grief has overwhelmed his sense and that he’s gone crazy.  He’s utterly alone.

 The Red Robin series is such a great culmination for Tim.  He finds a place for himself as a hero, as a CEO.  He gets parts of his family back—Bruce, Steph, Bart, Conner.  He finally figures out who he wants to be and creates a place for himself.

 This overarching character development is what I love about Tim.  His many, many traumas impact his decisions, and you can clearly see how he changes over time as a result of them.  I didn’t even go into his development as a leader from his early fumbling with Young Justice to his strong leadership of the Teen Titans, or how his relationships with Conner, Bart, and Cassie develop so fluidly and realistically over the years.

 This is why I love Tim. Characters like Batman are static; nothing that happens to them will ever have a lasting impact, because in the end the character always returns to what they were.  Tim, on the other hand, has changed and developed A LOT since his initial appearance.  His growth has always been consistent and logical.

 When the reboot happened, all of that character growth was lost.  Tim was replaced with a jerk who betrayed his friends and cheated on his girlfriend.  DC has basically retconned all of this and tried to turn Tim back into who he was, but by taking away all of the things that have happened to him over the years, Tim has lost SO MUCH.

 I keep looking for my Tim in recent comics, and I just can’t find him.  It breaks my heart, because I love him so much, and it feels like he’s lost to me forever.  The most recent Young Justice comic series actually gave me hope; I felt like maybe, finally, someone was going to write Tim correctly.  He had his primary friendships back, his relationship with Steph was developing (even if they seem to have completely dropped all the development around Steph’s decision to let Tim think she was dead).  The actual book itself wasn’t fantastic, but it felt like they were headed in the right direction.

 Over the last few days, I read the Batman: Urban Legends books.  I actually read the Batman/Red Hood story first, which was fantastic.  I was really excited to read Tim’s story (though I already knew how it ended).  Jason’s character was handled so well, and he seemed to actually have some character development that will hopefully last.  I anticipated the same for Tim.

 But Tim’s story was awful. The plot was all over the place—kids are being kidnapped, so Tim has to join a pain cult to get them back?  He’s somehow helping Oracle with computer issues while simultaneously questioning witnesses?  He’s broken up with Steph, off camera, shortly after telling her how much he loves her, but Steph somehow thinks that they should have a caring relationship where Tim tells her what he’s feeling?  Bernard has somehow become a good enough fighter to stand side by side with Robin?  Tim STILL doesn’t have a code name?  Why is everyone suddenly hounding him about what he wants to do with his life?

 It’s just such a mess of a story.  If it didn’t end with Tim agreeing to go on a date with Bernard, no one would ever have even mentioned it.  There’s nothing particularly re-readable or enjoyable about it.

 I actually liked that they brought Bernard back. I really enjoyed him in the original Robin series. It’s been a while since I read that part of the series (I’m actually working my way back through it now).  I know Bernard always read as gay to me, yet somehow I felt like he was out of character in these books.

 And then, the climax of the story.  Tim is bi, or gay, or has at least agreed to go on a date with a boy.

 If this had happened in the pre-boot, when Tim was Red Robin and had an actual character arc, I honestly wouldn’t have had an issue with it.  I do think it would have needed a LOT more build up than it was given here.  Tim has always been a very introspective character, and we’ve been party to so much of his internal monologue over the years.  It seems very strange to me that such a huge thing just sneaks up on him out of nowhere when he’s never even thought about it before.

 But more than that, this story just feels like the final death blow for the Tim I loved.  The whole arc is about how Tim doesn’t know who he is or who he wants to be.  What will his hero name be?  Will he go to college?  What is he going to do with his life?  These are all great questions, and his answer to all of them is… date a boy?  

 Is this going to be his defining characteristic going forward?  From here will we just see Tim exploring and discovering his sexuality?  The Tim we have now doesn’t have a family, a team, a purpose, or even a code name.  Why was this the thing that DC decided to give us?  It feels like they wanted to make a gay Robin and decided it would be Tim because they didn’t know what else to do with him.

 It’s stupid, but I honestly feel like I’ve spent the past few days grieving the loss of a loved one. The Tim that DC is presenting now is just not the person that I knew.  Tim would never break up with Steph that abruptly for what he admits is no apparent reason.  He would never say “just call me Robin, since Damian’s out of town.”  Everything that I love about Tim seems to be gone, and in its place DC has given me a date with a boy.  

 Again, it’s not Tim being not-straight that I have an issue with.  I’ve never read the character that way, but it’s something I can live with. My issue is the way it was handled. Why not make Tim an actual person first, and then explore his sexuality?  Send him off to college!  He’s obviously thinking about it!  It’s the perfect opportunity to give him his own book.  He can move to a different city, choose a new name, and DC can introduce a whole new set of characters.  Figure out which parts of Tim’s backstory are still canon, and which have been dropped. Make him a person again, and then let him explore his sexuality.

 I know this post is all over the place, and I don’t have time right now to go back and edit it.  I just really needed an outlet for my frustration.  Right now it feels like there are so many people who are so excited about Tim being bi/gay, but they don’t know anything else about him.  I keep seeing people comment how DC has been “dropping hints for years!” with no evidence other than “he and Superboy were really close!”  I guess I’d just really like to have some dialogue with other people who are fans of Tim, rather than fans of Tim-as-bi/gay or fans of Tim-as-straight.

 Does anyone else feel this way?  I’d honestly like to have a dialogue about it with other long time fans.

[fific7]

Ticket to Ride - Part 4

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Inspired by The Beatles song of the same name. This takes place in my S1 Punisher AU with Arrogant!Billy in attendance, in which he gets a taste of his own medicine.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral and unprotected, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My Photo Edit)

𝔹𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕒𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕓𝕪𝕖

𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕥𝕨𝕚𝕔𝕖, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕓𝕪 𝕞𝕖

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Billy woke up really early due to light streaming into his room. The sun was coming up. He couldn’t bring himself to close the curtains the previous night - after all, the view was the big thing in this hotel, wasn’t it? He rearranged his pillows so that he could still lie in bed but also tipped his head up enough so he could see the view.

It was too early to go along to her room yet, so he’d laze a little, shower and then he’d go. He hoped that her anger had cooled overnight, as the two of them really had to have a conversation. Not that he was looking forward to that conversation, but he realised that if he wanted to have even an outside chance of getting her back, he had to man up and tell her the truth. He had the distinct feeling that If he only told her part of it - a sanitised version of what had happened - she’d see right through him and that would be that.

He laughed out loud.... god he hadn’t even slept with the woman, but if he’d known the shitstorm that was going to be stirred up by all of this, maybe he should’ve just damn well done it!

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Meanwhile, you sat at the departure gate waiting for the boarding call. You’d always wanted to visit your next destination so while you were sad to leave Barcelona, you felt excited to be on your way.

With a little smile, you thought that the only real regret you had was you wouldn’t be there to see the expression on Billy’s face when he realised you’d skipped town again.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

As soon as he’d had that thought a little voice inside his head had said, if you had then you’d never ever get her back and you know it. Yeah, he did know it. So it was just as well I didn’t, he acknowledged to himself. Some no-strings sex with Madani wasn’t worth wrecking what he’d had with her.

Now he just had to hope that he wasn’t already too late to salvage that.

Billy stepped out onto the 20th floor landing then began walking up the red corridor to her room. He spotted a cleaning cart in the corridor - wait, that wasn’t outside her room, was it? No, it couldn’t be. But he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach the nearer he got.

He came to a halt next to the cart, and looked at the room number on the door for confirmation but he knew it before he even saw it.

She’d run out on him again.

Billy cursed loudly then swung round on his heel and headed back to the lifts. He took his phone out as he walked, hitting a starred number. It rang for a while then a grouchy voice said, “Yeah, what?”

“Micro? Got another job for you.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After clearing Customs and Passport Control you walked briskly out of the terminal building, following a sign indicating where you needed to go. You were getting more and more impatient to get to the city by the minute, but you knew you had to make sure you picked the correct coloured route, as they went to different destinations.

Standing on the jetty at Marco Polo Airport, you waited patiently along with other passengers for the Alilaguna airport boat to moor alongside it and which would then take you to Venice.

La Serenissima. The city which floats on a lagoon.

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Frank listened to what Micro had to say, then exploded. “Oh for fuck’s sake!!! This is gettin’ out of control. Yeah okay, do his search then let me know - not him - what you find out.”

He ended the call and threw his phone onto the bedside table. He’d have to speak to Bill, this was too much.

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Billy was in a temper. He threw his clothes and toiletries into his duffel bag and zipped it up viciously. Nothing from Micro yet and he had to check out of his room now. He’d just have to sit in the bar/lounge downstairs and have a drink or two until he did hear back.

An hour and two whiskies later (yes, he’d thought as the barman’s eyebrows raised up at his request, it is damn early for a whisky but you have no idea what I’m going through), Billy was getting more and more impatient. Then his phone buzzed, but hope sank like a stone when he saw it was Frank.

“I guess he called you, then?” Billy said as soon as he answered the call. “Yep,” said Frank, “...he did. And this is the last one, Bill, you hear me?” “It’s not my fault she keeps flyin’ off t’different places!” whined Billy. “It’s your damn fault she took off in the first place, dumbass!” growled Frank and Billy said nothing as he couldn’t argue with that.

“Where’s she gone, Frankie?” he asked after a short silence. “Venice.” “Ah shit!!! Back to the States? Didn’t see that coming.” “Not Venice Beach, Bill... Venice, Italy.”

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You settled yourself onto the wooden bench inside the vaporetto which would take you on the short hop across the wide Giudecca Canal from Palanca to Zattere. Vaporetti were the Venetian equivalent of public transport but a hugely more pleasurable experience. What would you rather hop on - a bus or a ferry? Yeah, definitely a ferry! You’d decided to stay on Giudecca instead of the main islands as it had a calmer, more relaxed vibe and tourists were much less in evidence.

Karen had texted you as you were getting unpacked in your small but cute room. Your hotel was surrounded by residential gardens and a narrow canal on one side; when you went out onto the large balcony, all you could hear was birdsong and the church bells of Venice. It was heavenly.

But Karen’s text had brought you down somewhat; Billy was on your track again. He’d been told by Frank that they weren’t going to help him out any longer, but you weren’t convinced that would put him off. Billy was the most stubborn sonuvabitch you’d ever met. Looking out the vaporetto windows, you saw a majestic tall ship making its way imperiously up the canal followed by a small tug like a lady in waiting, and wondered where it was sailing off to.

Sighing, you gathered up your bag as the vaporetto docked at Zattere and prepared to disembark. Maybe it was time to just sit down and have ‘that talk’ with him.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy, meanwhile, was waiting impatiently for his flight to start boarding in Barcelona airport. He just had to pin her down this time. No more escaping him and the talk they had to have.

He marvelled at the fact that in Europe, you were never really that far from your next destination. Here he was in Spain and in less than two hours’ time, he’d be in Italy. He’d bought a travel guide to Venice in one of the airport stores and settled down to read it.

Frank had given him the name and location of her hotel, somewhere called Giudecca. He didn’t have the first fucking clue as to where that was, so he’d better find out and quickly. Okay…. here was a map. Venice seemed to be divided into six sestiere or areas… hmmm no mention of Giudecca. Oh right, here it was, a large island out on its own across the Giudecca Canal from Venice.

He pinpointed the hotel on the map and felt a lot more relaxed.

I know where you are now, kitten.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Escaping from the crowd of tourists in Piazza San Marco into the relative peace of Caffé Florian, you sat down and ordered a horribly expensive cappuccino and pastry from the impassive waiter. But it was worth it just to soak up the historical atmosphere. You looked round the opulently decorated and gilded interior and opened up your guide book; it had opened in 1720 and scores of famous faces had passed through its doors or listened to its musicians outside. Wow - Casanova, Lord Byron, Charles Dickens, Ernest Hemingway, Charlie Chaplin, Clark Gable, Andy Warhol. The list went on and on.

Coffee finished, you wandered out of Florian’s and back along the Piazetta next to the Doge’s Palace. There was an arched bridge - the Ponte della Paglia - on the waterfront from which you could see the world-famous Bridge of Sighs, and you joined the huddle of tourists at the top of the bridge to eventually make it to the front and take a picture of it. Your guide book told you the bridge was so called because after their trials, condemned prisoners would be taken from the Doge’s Palace over the small canal at its side to the prison, and their last sight of Venice would be from the bridge. Hence the ‘sighs’.

Next, you walked along to the Arsenale, the huge historical shipyard where Venice had built her vast number of ships which had enabled her to have a huge trading empire. It had been said that they’d been able to construct a fully equipped warship in one day. But that was long in the past, you thought as you looked at an array of stone lion statues outside its main entrance and a bust of Dante set onto the wall.

Turning away, you headed to the vaporetto stop of the same name and waited for the Line 1 vaporetto to arrive and take you on a sail up the Grand Canal.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Yet again, Billy was in a bad mood. After a couple of false starts, he’d eventually managed to make his way onto the correct Alilaguna boat at Marco Polo and had alighted at Zitelle on Giudecca.

But now here he was - walking backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards - along the waterfront, trying to find out where this damn fucking hotel was. He just couldn’t find it! Where the hell was it?

Billy spotted a guy around his own age walking towards him and stepped in front of him, asking politely in English if he could help him find this hotel. A stream of Italian burst forth and the guy must’ve realised that Billy didn’t understand one word, as he then took his arm and pulled him along the waterfront a little. He stopped and gestured towards one of the narrowest damn alleyways Billy had ever seen, quite near the vaporetto stop.

He thanked the guy effusively and set off up the alleyway. There were peoples’ houses on each side of it and he tried not to be too nosy as he walked past them. But echoing within the walls of the alley he could hear voices, children’s laughter, a football match on a TV, a dog barking… talk about living on top of each other. He wasn’t sure he could live like that but then it just depended on what you were used to, he supposed.

Arriving in a small open area leading to a canal and a bridge over it - Corte Ferrando, he saw on a sign - he found the Giudecca Hotel right on the corner next to the canal. At last!!!

Walking in to the small but light and airy reception area, he dumped his bag next to reception and asked the guy behind the desk if he could book a room. “Certainly, signore, how many nights would that be for?” Billy shrugged, saying, “I’ll make it for two nights for now, but maybe I’ll need to extend that, I’m not sure.” “That is no problem. Can I have your passport please, signore?”

Billy handed it over, thinking as he did, going by her recent history it might be only the one night!

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You stepped off the vaporetto at Rialto. Well, you just had to walk over the famous bridge and be a total tourist didn’t you, stopping to take a picture looking back down the Grand Canal. You’d gazed at all the big palazzi lining the waterway as the vaporetto zig-zagged its way between all the stops on the canal. They were certainly impressive, but they also had a faded, melancholic air about them.

Some of them had been converted into museums, some rented out on long or short-term leases by their owners, or they were now owned by foreigners who only stayed in them for a handful of weeks each year. When the festivals were taking place… Carnevale, the Biennale, the Film Festival. The rest of the year they lay empty and lonely, no doubt steeped in dreams of the lavish masked balls and elegant dinner parties from centuries past, while the noble Venetian families who used to own them lived in modern condos in Mestre on the mainland, no longer in their beloved Venezia. How sad, you thought.

Heading back to the vaporetto stop, you decided you’d go to Accademia, have a look round the art gallery, visit the huge and famous church Santa Maria della Salute and then wander round the artisan shops in Dorsoduro, perhaps have a glass of vino in one of the cute little wine bars.

You were determined to make this afternoon and evening last for as long as you could. Billy would no doubt be waiting for you when you got back to Giudecca.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The man himself hadn’t even bothered unpacking this time, just in case. He’d had a quick shower and then had taken a short stroll around the local area. He noticed very few tourists and decided this was why she’d chosen it. He knew she’d prefer to sample the local life more than the tourist traps.

Not wanting to spend too much time away from the hotel, he made his way back and sat outside on the lone park bench in the courtyard area. He started running over in his mind what he was going to say to her, to be honest he still wasn’t sure how to frame it so that she wouldn’t go ballistic.

His stomach knotted. Who was he kidding? Of course she was going to go ballistic! He was about to admit he’d made out on more than one occasion with another woman. And irrespective of the fact that it had been strictly business from his point of view, his girl was not going to be the least bit impressed with him.

Fuck, I’ve really screwed this up, he allowed himself to think for the first time. He’d made his brain block out this uncomfortable thought what with all the chasing after her in the previous few days. He’d been telling himself over and over that everything would all be alright.

But now he thought… would it? Would it really?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Returning on the vaporetto to Palanca, you felt yourself starting to tense up. You knew Billy would either have arrived by now or would very shortly.

Whatever he had to say to to you, you knew you weren’t going to like it. The evidence was too strong that he’d been cheating on you and you weren’t going to let him off the hook for that. The problem was, you loved the stupid douchebag. But how could you trust him now, after he’d been seeing another woman? In some ways, it was worse that it was just the one. And you were sure it was just one, if the perfume evidence was anything to go by. It would almost have been better if he’d gone back to his old tom-catting ways, quantity over quality to coin Frank’s phrase. Your stomach twisted as you remembered him saying to you that at last Billy had reversed that equation when he got with you. But if he was seeing just the one? That was bad.

You began walking up the alleyway and as you reached the open area, you saw a figure sitting on the park bench, the back of a dark head. Billy.

Squaring your shoulders and feeling as if you were about to go into battle, you walked steadily towards him.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Venice

(My Photos/video 3 & 7 / June 2012 & 2016)

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@blackbirddaredevil23 @theshadowkingsqueen @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry @odetostep @supernaturalcat7 @obscurilicious @strawb3rrydr3ss @bruxa0007 @aleksanderwh0r3 @bat-luna-cat

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓯𝓾𝓵 𝓓𝓾𝓽𝔂 (𝓓𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷! 𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰)

𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: 𝓓𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷! 𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰 (𝓐𝓽𝓮𝓮𝔃) × 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 (𝓕𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮)

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮: 𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓼𝓽, 𝓢𝓶𝓾𝓽, 𝓕𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯, 𝓓𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓐𝓤

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 4.7𝓚

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: 𝓘𝓷 𝓮𝔁𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵, 𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓪𝓼 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓼 𝓼𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓷 𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓱, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓯𝓾𝓵𝓯𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂 𝓭𝓾𝓽𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼....𝓷𝓸 𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓰𝓻𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮, 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓸𝓻 𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓯𝓾𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓫𝓮.

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: 𝓥𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮, 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓭, 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱, 𝓫𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓰𝓮, 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓼𝓸𝓻𝔂 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂, 𝔀𝓪𝔁 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂, 𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓪𝓬𝓽 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂, 𝓾𝓷𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓮𝔁 (𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷), 𝓼𝓸𝓯𝓽 𝓪𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓮.

𝓣𝓪𝓰 𝓛𝓲𝓼𝓽: @yunhoiseyecandy @multidreams-and-desires @hanatiny @galaxteez

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A blank expression was plastered on the immortal's red tinted lips that matched the hue of the liquid that he was swirling around in the glass cup between his fingers, as usual. His deep and husky voice was humming an eerie and macabre tune as his eyes pierced down at the city below him. To the naked eye it would seem as though he was staring into nothing, the only thing visible was the monumental skyscraper that overlooked the apartment complex he currently cohabited in. But his eyes were very much focused, watching over the tiny figure that was currently walking just a few blocks away from where his building was. They walked around so casually, not looking anywhere behind them or with any sense of alert. It is a rather dangerous area even if it was one of the more luxurious places in the city, and yet the figure continued their trail back home without giving any cares in the world.......not seeing the hooded figures that had been meticulously trailing right behind them, waiting for their opportunity to strike, which came mere moments after they had turned into a dark and abandoned alley.

The being's lips curled into an amused smirk as he felt and watched the pentagram mark on his wrist, usually hidden away under the long sleeved of his dress shirts, light up in a bright scarlet color, the Y in the middle shining the brightest. Unrolling his sleeves, he carefully adjusted his vest and re-did the silk tie that was around his neck, as if he had all the time in the world......

Which he probably did.

"Off to fulfill my duties I guess."

In a mere blink of his eyes, he was instantly in that dark alley, still unseen by the ruffians who were currently apprehending the damsel who even in her distress was putting up a rather good resistance. Deducing it was now his cue to enter, he stepped out of the shadows and came into their vicinity.

"My, my, quite a rather scandalous and rowdy lot of you, causing such an improper and shocking scene in this time of night. Shame, shame." He spoke out in a calm demeanor.

While the group of bandits looked at him in surprise and anger at being witnessed in their crime, the woman had both an unamused and annoyed look on her features.

"You're late." She directed at the sharply dressed male.

"My apologies Lady Y/N, I promise it won't happen again." He bowed to her, fighting back the urge to snicker as he knew very well it would not be the last time.

The thugs held up their knives closer to the woman's neck and even pointed one at him.

"I suggest you walk away now while you still have a chance you overly dressed penguin boy. Don't try to play the hero or you'll get that pretty little throat of yours slit open." One of them warned.

The blonde haired male let out an offended scoff, hand going up to his chest to show his indignation.

"Why my kind sir, believe me I had absolutely no intention of playing the hero. That is absolutely beneath me!...."

Putting his hands behind him, he looked at them with a deadpanned expression.

"Now talk to me about being the villain.....then we're speaking my language."

In an instant, without knowing how, the male charged at an inhuman speed towards them, knocking them out before going back to his previous place, this time his arms carrying the woman in a bridal style motion. He looked down at her, awaiting the next instructions.

"Home. Now." She demanded.

"Of course My Lady."

He began turning around to make way home, but halted when he felt and heard the men behind him load up and point guns at him. He let out a deep sigh.

"All I wanted was to fulfill my duty as the trusted servant of my Mistress but you guys seemed hell bent on making that impossible....."

Shrugging, he gently placed the girl down for a moment on the pavement.

"So be it."

When he heard the shots fired, he stuck his left hand out, trapping all of the bullets in between his fingers, shocking the ones who had fired them and making them marvel at the spectacle. The male turned around and inspected the bullets he currently held.

"Truly interesting, I must compliment your choice of weapons my criminal comrades. You could have certainly sent even the strongest of men straight to their death with just one of these aimed at the proper body part....."

As he looked back at them, they shivered when his eyes changed color.

"Allow me to demonstrate."

Flinging the bullets back at them, they all resonated like a thunder strike as they pierced through the thugs' chest, into their hearts, hitting accurately on a vital vein that had them dead before their bodies even hit the ground. The inhuman creature's nose crinkled in disgust at the mess that was left behind.

"What a filthy scene. As if the world didn't already have hoards of rubbish and filth to clean up on the daily." He shook his head.

"Ahem!"

The light yet impatient tapping of a foot reminded him that he was not alone and that he still had one task left.

"Ahh yes. Home now I suppose. Would my Lady prefer to be transported or would she wish to soar high above in the air?" He offered.

"I'm not in the mood to be out here in society anymore." She huffed out.

He smiled enthusiastically at that, hands rubbing together.

"Excellent choice my Lady. Please don't fret. I'll see to it immediately."

He stepped forward to her, about to take her hand when she stopped him.

"And Yeosang? I had a bad day.........you know what to do."

He couldn't help the spark that always ran down his spine when she said those words. Using one arm to pull her body against his, he looked at her intensely, eyes already ravishing her body.

"Yes my Lady."

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The demon's hands carefully worked to finish tying the rather intricate and aesthetic knots on the red rope that kept the woman in front of him from moving. Taking a step back, he began to admire her body fully displayed for him, arms and legs tied to each of the corners of the bed. Although she was as naked as the day she was born, save a large black lace choker decorating her neck, he still donned his fancy uniform, except his charcoal vest and tie, that signified his devotion and commitment to her. Even if it wasn't necessary to wear it, Yeosang loved the classy and elegant vibe that it gave him, and besides.....

He knew his Mistress went crazy for him in a suit and tie, especially on occasions like these.

Rolling up his sleeves, he crept closer to her, noticing how she was paying careful attention to any sound she heard since her eyes were covered by the satin black blindfold Yeosang loved using. His fingers gripped her jaw as he bent down and kissed her passionately, mouth enclosing over hers, tongue swiping over her lips. When she felt his wet muscle, she could not resist the urge to pull it into her mouth. He let out an aroused hum as she sucked on it and began to take control of the kiss, slipping her tongue in his mouth so it could roam around in it. She whined softly when he pulled back mid makeout session.

"My dear lady, although you've certainly become an independent and dominant woman, need I remind you you're at my mercy at the moment, so any ideas of taking over should be scraped immediately."

Catching her bottom lip between his front teeth, he bit down on it and gave it a harsh suck as he pulled off her completely.

"Don't worry my beautiful Mistress. I'll make sure my depraved actions leave you in a utmost pleasure any human can imagine. Just remember the safe word if it gets too intense."

But he knew as well as she did that there'd be no need for that. He was a master at what he did, always careful not to cause any unnecessary pain. Not that she minded, she was a little masochist at times.

His hand opened the black treasure chest that was currently on top of the dresser. Already having prepped what he had in mind for their playtime in the little red room, his hand picked up the vanilla lavender scented body oil. He purposefully popped off the lid with a loud sound, letting it fall onto the floor to make as much noise as possible. As expected, Y/N's neck stretched out towards the direction of the noise, trying to figure out what exactly was happening. She could smell the faint scent of the oil but still could not point out where it came from. Her chest shook and her breath hitched when she felt something being poured over breasts, the liquid traveling down her sternum with some of it falling into her belly button. Yeosang didn't stop there as he then poured a bit more onto her inner thighs and on the mound of her womanhood. When she felt some of it roll off her body and onto the sheets underneath her, she slightly cringed.

"I'll clean them up as usual my lady. Don't worry about that. Right now, please just relax and leave all of you to me."

His fingers delicately caressed her chin before gliding down her neck, tugging at the choker around her. He took her by surprise when his hands cupped her breasts so suddenly. Slowly, he began to squeeze and knead at them, thumbs circling all over her erect nipples. He couldn't keep his away, entirely consumed in spreading the oil all over them.

"So pretty....so beautiful...."

Y/N smiled at his praises. Her demon boy toy had made it more than obvious that he was a huge admirer of breasts and hers were his all time favorite. More than once when he opted to be the little devil he was, he'd randomly brush his hand across them or come up behind her and start groping them, sometimes surprisingly in a non sexual way.

He'd giggle and say "They're just so cute and perfect for my hands."

But right now there was absolutely nothing innocent in a way he was cupping and playing around with them. He was getting a thrill out of pressing them against each other, rubbing them together for a few seconds before releasing them to watch them fall back into their original place. His fingers tugged, pulled and even pinched at her sensitive buds to trigger moans to come out of her pretty and plump lips. Yeosang didn't forget to spread the oil all over the rest of her torso, making sure it was completely glistening in that sweet smelling substance he administered on it.

Gliding his hands further south, now her legs and thighs began to receive the same treatment, getting oiled up nicely for the new play he wanted to try out in a few minutes. His hands massaged her inner thighs, lingering them close to her pussy that was waiting to be touched by his gentle fingers. He grazed all around it but never actually touched it, making her get frustrated, hips slightly rising to try and feel something, anything where she needed it most.

"Yeosang...." She called out to him.

"Please just trust me on this Mistress. I'm only thinking about giving you the utmost pleasure you deserve."

Deciding it was no use fighting or commanding the demon, she just relaxed her hips and placed them back onto the mattress. Her mind instead focused on Yeosang's hands that were drawing circles across her thighs, fingers digging in at certain areas that helped release some tension after her long and arduous day. She let out a soft sigh, enjoying her lover's caresses so much she began closing her eyes and almost dozing off to sleep....

Until she felt a finger slid up her slit and press down on her clit. If she could, she would have shot her eyes wide open, and her legs would have instinctively closed at his touch, but she could not do that right now. Yeosang smirked, happy that he thought about binding her up so he could play and experiment with her body as he pleased. Using all his fingers, he rubbed at her folds making sure to pay close attention to her tiny little nub. It always fascinated him to know such a tiny organ could cause such big reactions. Prying her folds open with one of his hand, the other moved to slip a finger inside her hole, shortly followed by another one.

"So wet and it's not even because of the oil." Even without seeing him, Y/N knew he had the biggest shit eating grin plastered on that unholy handsome face of his.

"Yeosang don't tease me or I'll use the chains and whips on you." She warned him, emitting a low growl.

He chuckled at her as he digged his fingers deeper inside her, curling them so they grazed on that special place of hers.

"Very kinky my lady. Perhaps I should take you up on that offer again someday. You're not the only one who enjoys pain every now and then."

He wiggled his fingers inside of her before thrusting them in and out of her. Already being wet and being even more lubricated due to the oil he poured on her, sticky and sloppy sounds were the only things heard besides Y/N's pants that would soon turn to choked out moans if Yeosang continued his pace.

"So responsive for me, that you are Mistress."

Feeling somewhat bad at working her so close to a blissful high and having to take it away, he nonetheless slipped his hands out when he felt her walls tighten around his fingers, a string of slick coming out when he did. If her hands hadn't been tied up she would have surely slapped him across the face for denying her such pleasure.

"Yeosang!" She cried out, whining like a little child throwing a tantrum.

"Hush now my Lady. Just trust me and be patient."

Licking his fingers clean of her arousal, he went back to black box to take out the next items for their little field night: a pure white candle and a black lighter, the latter which he played around with and inspected in his fingers.

"Marvelous invention really. I remember there was a time I had to light a match almost every 5 minutes. Times have changed for the better."

Y/N tensed up when she heard match.

What on earth was her hell boy up to?

Hearing the soft clink of the lighter, she braced herself for whatever was going to come. For a moment nothing happened, but as soon as she let her guard down, Yeosang commenced his plan and let some of the hot wax drop onto her chest, landing right in between her breasts. Y/N jolted up at the intense and searing sensation.

"Yeo-Yeosang!" She gasped out in a high pitched tone.

He didn't respond but simply let two more drops of wax fall across her breathtaking chest, making her mouth fall open in shock.

"Mistress? How are you feeling?" He made sure to inquire before proceeding.

"I'm.......good....please....keep going."

He was beyond satisfied with her answer and decided to continue. Letting out the artistic side of him come out, he held the lighter closer to the candle to make it melt faster. Droplets of wax began to cover her chest and abdomen, forming a variety of designs that were leaving her breathless each time the hot substance made contact with her oiled skin. She never would have guessed that a messy and scorching object could inflict such an addicting pain that made her pool even more between her legs. Yeosang even dropped some of it down in her inner thighs, careful not to drop anything directly on her lady parts. That was strictly off limits. He focused on hitting points that would serve to stimulate her senses even further and it seemed to be working. Of course it would. He knew and understood her body more than anyone else, each time her chest rose, her toes curled or a change in her breathing, he knew what it all meant, having studied her body language for so long.

He took a step back and admired his artwork, a proud smile on his face as he saw the hardening wax all across her body.

"Mesmerizing." He complimented.

Tugging at the ropes binding her wrists, she grunted in desperation.

"Yes my lady I'm quite aware of how needy you are to have something inside of you, but let me remind you that you gave me free leave to do as I pleased..."

Once more, he dug into the blach chest, eyes gleaming when he took out one of his all time favorite play pieces: a rubber black and red flogger. He slowly fanned the tresses out, hovering it over his Mistress's face and dragging the material down her body, letting her get a hint of what was going to come next.

"And I intend to make the best of it."

As soon as he finished saying those words, his wrist skillfully twisted the device back and let it fall against her skin. Y/N wheezed sharply when she felt the slight sting. Swallowing a non-existent lump down her throat, she took a deep breath which had Yeosang laughing darkly.

"Too much?" He challenged her.

Not wanting to let the demon have the satisfaction, she let out a dry laugh, her head falling back.

"More like not enough. I thought you demons could do better than that.....perhaps I should have enlisted the help of a true incubus. I bet they deliver and never disappoint. That cute one that visited you once, San, do you think his offer is still on the table?"

Her words were deliberately filled with venom and malice, all for the intention of rousing the demon next to her. If her blindfold wasn't on, she would have been able to see his eyes change into the fiery blood orange color they turned to whenever he lost control and was no longer composed. He especially hated being compared to an incubus and more hear his mistress mention going to one of them. Wanting to silence that cackle of hers, he abruptly struck the flogger down on her lower stomach with even more force than the last one, effectively shutting her laughs up.

"The day you actually permit one of those degenerated, sick and perverted bastards taint your body, is the day I'm breaking hell loose and unleashing all its fury.....

And I'll fucking drag you down there to spend eternity with me."

Without giving her a chance to respond, he raised the object once again, flinging it down across her chest, stomach, even her inner thighs repeatedly. He paused for a few seconds between strokes, making her think it would over before starting over again. Y/N was releasing very loud yells, legs and hands writhing in place as they could not move much due to the restraints that kept her down. Yeosang knew she was already spilling a few tears.

"What? I thought you wanted this my lady? Don't you loved being tortured like this? I know you do."

Stopping momentarily, he feathered some of the tresses over her clit, causing her to become anxious about his next target.

"Such a dirty and sinful girl. I bet you're dying to have me flog this wet cunt of yours until the folds become red and swollen........"

Flipping the toy around, he pressed the round head of the handle against her clit and slid it down her folds until it reached farther down towards her anal opening.

"Or perhaps I should stuff the shaft right into your ass and fuck it til you're begging me to stop, and even then I'll keep going."

Removing the toy, he brought it back up and struck it against her genitals, causing it to instantly throb.

"Oh fuck!" She jerked what little movement she could muster of her hips, not expecting him to actually follow through on his threats.

"I like the first option a lot better actually."

With a sadistic smile on his face, he struck at her pretty little folds a few more times until it was a bright pink color, pussy lips puffed up and tender to the touch. Bending down, he blew air into her dripping hole, which had her shivering from how sensitive it had become.

"Just how I like it."

Y/N already had beads of sweat all over her body, giving her a subtle glow. The hair near her scalp was moist from how much she was sweating. Yeosang hadn't even entered her yet and she was already clenching around nothing as she felt the bed shift next to her. Using her sense of hearing to help her out, she could hear something light make a small thud on the ground, which she guessed was Yeosang's white dress shirt. Her theory was proved true as she then heard a zipper being undone and a belt buckle been loosened. She moaned out when she felt her demon's heated body right on top of hers. She wanted to reach her hands out and run them across his blonde hair, also craved to see his ridiculously handsome face as he fucked her into the sheets. That face that when she first saw she swore it could only belong in an angel, but soon learned she was deceived as it belonged to a hellish being.

Her lips happily welcomed Yeosang's when they sought them out, this time being a little more tender and intimate. His hands rested on her hips as he aligned himself to her entrance. She winced when his thick head slapped against her swollen clit, which he shushed immediately.

"There there my beautiful lady. I promise the sting will only last a little bit, but then you'll enjoy it."

With one swift move of his hips, he pierced through her entrance, his length that on more than one occasion had her mouth watering stretched her out so nicely. Combined with the red hot pain that was spread across her folds, Y/N's throat let out a strangled sound mixed with pleasure at him intruding so suddenly. Not wasting time, the demon expertly moved his hips, angling them so his pelvis would rub against her seering red clit, which further added to the otherworldly sensation he was forcing her to enjoy.

"Oh my- shit! Yeosang! Please!" She begged him, hands shaking violently in desperation at wanting to hold him closer to her.

"I'm afraid I must refuse this request my sweet mistress. You're not the only one allowed to have fun." He released that peculiar evil giggle of his that had her body heating up even more.

Yeosang's raspy grunts mixed with her own whimpering cries, the loud thudding of the bed underneath them was the only other sound accompanying their lustful orchestrations. He was making sure it was nothing less than intense, hips snapping violently, nails digging into her skin, if they were sharper they would probably be drawing blood. One of them came up to rip the choker off her neck, wanting to see the mark that matched the one on his wrist, the mark which was forever embedded on her skin and his after their contract was signed and sealed permanently. He watched with fascination and delight as it began to emit a faint glow, his doing the same.

"Mine...all mine. You'll always be mine. I'll never let anyone else have you."

He growled those words along the skin of her neck, kissing at her glowing mark and occasionally biting down on it. He began snarling as he heard her pant, chest rising up and down at a fast pace as she began nearing her climax.

"Yeosang....please! At least let me see you!" She pleaded. If she couldn't at least hold him, she definitely wanted to see his ethereal face as he spilled his wicked seed inside her.

He let out a hum before obliging her request, wanting to see her pretty face as well. Her vision needed a few seconds to adjust from the overwhelming pleasure she was getting, mixed with the tears in her eyes that couldn't let her clearly see her diabolical lover that was grinning down at her in an impurely manner.

"Release yourself mistress. Give yourself to me, all of it. I want to feel the end of your sins. Join me in this blazing fire...."

Reaching up, his hand grasped at her neck, cutting off enough oxygen to have her feeling dazed.

"Cum for me." He ordered her, eyes lighting up once more.

Unable to resist his wicked charms, she screamed out his name over and over as she convulsed underneath him, the fire pooling at her lower abdomen breaking loose as she came all over him. Her mind shut down and could not focus on anything other than the immense pleasure he was putting her through. Gripping her waist harshly, Yeosang incoherently sputtered out curses and swears in such a demonic tone as he spilled his fiery cum inside of her, not stopping until he had made sure to give her all of him.

"Holy shit!" He ironically declared, panting fiercely, a small choking gasp escaping slightly from his throat.

"Oh my god...." Y/N couldn't help but say as she felt her head still spin from that extreme high she was in.

"I don't think the big guy is willing to allow himself to be claimed after such a spectacle." He snorted as he pulled out of her and began untying the ropes that bound her.

Her arms and legs fell flat on the bed, completely worn out. She groaned even when Yeosang picked her up and began carrying her into the bedroom, where he had already previously prepared a warm, bubbly, fruity scented bath for her since he knew things were going to get messy and harsh. He tenderly placed her inside, fingers brushing away the hair sticking to her forehead.

"Please just relax in there a few minutes my lady. The residue of the wax will slip off quite easily." He assured her.

When he attempted to leave, her numb arm reached out and clasped his wrist.

"Join me..."

When she saw the hesitation on his face, she looked at him determinedly.

"That's an order."

He couldn't help the proud smile on his face at her taking charge. When he met her, after she summoned him, she was such a naive and pitiful girl, always being pushed around by others and never taking a stand for herself much less assert herself or that dominance that he knew resided in her. But that changed after he came into her life, she learned to make herself known, she no longer responded to no one and had become a lot more confident in herself and her decisions. And he was extraordinarily proud of his little flower for blooming so much.

Which is why he was now stepping into the luxurious bathtub, moving himself to sit behind her, his hands wrapping themselves around her waist. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, eyes closing and enjoying the low soft voice of the demon behind her singing a song in a language she didn't understand, probably Latin or some other demonic language. She was so lost in his gentle and soothing caresses, a smile tugged on her lips.....until she felt those hands travel north.

"Yeosang!" She exclaimed when he cupped her breasts and kneaded them in his hands.

Turning her head, her offended face was met with his shameless one.

"What? They're just so soft and squishy and, and- it's like they were made for me." It still shocked her to see him break out of his corrupted, formal character and suddenly turn into a blushy, soft and cuddly boy.

"You're a pervert." She accused him yet made no move to remove his hands off her or order him to stop.

Chuckling, he began kissing the back of her neck.

"Don't blame me my lovely Y/N, after all.....

This is my sinful duty."

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