#it feels weird calling him an old man cause all my previous Guys have been absolutely ancient and billie is a year younger than my dad

[patronsaint-ofthedenial]

I'm not surprised that Billie Joe Armstrong is a youngest sibling. If I look at him I can just tell. I can see it in his eyes

[strawberryfairi]

“I loved you then…back when I knew you”

Synopsis: 💎 When your old high school best friend, and admittedly, first love randomly shows up at your door one morning after a bit over ten years apart, your memories of him that you once locked away comes flooding back. Are you open to hearing him out after all this time? (In other words…will you take your man back or nah?)

♕Pairings: Kazutora X Black Fem Reader 🤎 (ANYONE CAN READ)🛑Content: 18+ Eventual smut, Some grief, Some angst ~Crossposted On: Wattpad ONLY ~Updating WEEKLY

w.c. 3.9k💠 Released March 21, 2024

NOTE: It’s been too long since I’ve posted another chapter but hopefully I’m fully out of my (ridiculously long💀) writers block! Ngl, this chap kinda ass fr but the next chapter will be longer/better for sure! Thank you all for bearing with me🧚🏾‍♀️💜

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CHAPTER 8; EMOTIONAL DIFFICULTIES

A Few Days Later

This morning just before classes started, the girls demanded an emergency girls meeting in the bathroom to discuss what happened Halloween night. It was funny to you how they never wanna text or Facetime about these things, they only love to do it in person. It was cute though, and made the experience of sharing your gossip all the more exciting.

"YOU GUYS KISSED?!"

You winced as all the girls shouted practically at the same time. You already knew what was coming.

"I knew it! I knew something happened between you guys! We called it, we straight up called it, Yumi!" Asuka rambled, Yumi just nods her head proudly with that classic devious smile.

"You better not ever come talkin' to us about "Oh, I don't know how he feels guys" again! At this point you'd be a fool to not see it!" Hayashi-chan ranted.

"Wait, but see there's the thing-

"NO! You guys are getting married, and that's final!" Yumi hollers.

"Um, I don't know 'bout married. We're in high school." You chuckle. "But listen guys, 'cause there's something goin' on now that's making me feel weird about the kiss. Afterwards, when we all were goin' home things were so awkward, and now it's like he can't even bear to touch me. You think maybe he regrets it?" You frown, fiddling with your fingers resting on your lap as you sat on the bathroom sink.

All the girls turn quiet in thought, briefly looking at one another as they process what you said.

"Ok well...when you guys touch now does he pull away like "ew, oh my god"? Or is it like "oh shoot, I touched her!"?" Miyazaki-chan questions.

"What's the difference?" You furrow your brows.

"One is that he's like genuinely disgusted to have touched you, and the other is just him being nervous that he touched you." She explains.

"Some guys can get like that! I'm pretty sure you're probably the first girl he's ever gotten this close to, like..ever. It was probably his first kiss too, and now that he did that he's like unsure about how to go about dealing with you. You went from friends to...this." Asuka says, gesturing with her hands towards all of you.

She did have a really good point though, you hadn't thought about it that way at all. You were so pressed about not liking the way he's been acting since Halloween night that you never really bothered to take it a step further and think about why.

"That makes sense. I mean, he doesn't seem disgusted, he's just so jumpy! It's like he calculates every little thing he does and sometimes says now; like a robot." You frown, looking over at Miyazaki-chan.

"Yup. He's for sure nervous." Hanako-chan nods.

"But it's not like I'm not nervous too!" You rant, throwing your hands in the air in frustration.

"Yeah, but when guys get nervous they get stupid. An even dumber than usual kind'a stupid." Yumi explains with a disappointed sigh.

"Facts, that'd be the next thing to warn you about. With what you told us about how he's acting...he's for sure gonna be in his idiot era from now on." Hayashi-chan says with an apologetic smile.

"His idiot era? Ughh no..." You facepalm, not liking the sound of this at all.

"Let's just hope he can character develop fast enough to breeze through it." She adds with an apologetic tone.

The bell signaling for students to get to homeroom rang just as you all finished your little gossip chat. One by one each of you left out of the bathroom, saying your goodbyes and going your separate ways down either side of the hall.

"I'll see y'all at lunch or..whatever class we have together." You giggled, walking backwards as you wave goodbye. Just as you go to turn around, you bump into someone accidentally, almost falling on the floor on your back in the process.

"O-oh, I'm so sorry!" A soft, familiar voice stutters out, quickly turning around and steadying you by the arm.

"Oh! No no, it's my fault-Yamagishi?! I haven't seen you in so long!" You beam, finally noticing who it was you bumped into. His two other friends seeming to be with him in the hallway quickly scurried into their classroom with nervous looks on their faces, leaving the two of you alone. You didn't think too much of that, but it was definitely weird.

"Oh uh...yeah." Yamagishi says in a particularly hushed voice.

"What's been goin' on? Did you do anything for Halloween?"

Yamagishi barely manages to respond to you, letting out nothing but a short "Y-yeah" in response. You furrow your brows in concern at the way his eyes keep darting everywhere but at you. It seems Kazutora isn't the only boy acting stupid around you now.

"Are you alright? What's wrong?!" You ask, starting to get a little freaked out. He looked completely shook, hands slightly shaking and his entire face has gone pale white.

"Sorry, I-I gotta go!" He stammers, pivoting on his feet and darting right into the classroom.

"What the-?!" You were confused and also a little offended. What the hell is wrong with these guys?! Shaking your head, you decide to brush it off, continuing on down the hall.

"Hey!"

This time a male voice you didn't recognize calls from a few feet behind you. You turn around, pointing at yourself with your brows slightly furrowed, silently asking the guy if they were talking to you.

"Yeah." He says, finally catching up to you.

"Uhh, hi?" You greet awkwardly. You've never seen this student before. He was pretty tall, with slicked back black hair and dark eyes to match.

"Just wanted to let you know, in case you were wondering, Yamagishi isn't allowed to talk to you anymore." He scorned, looking at you like you were the biggest nuisance in his life.

"What do you mean-

"You're boyfriend made it clear some weeks ago." He clarifies with a slight grimace at the word 'boyfriend'.

That was all he needed to say for you to understand, and man were you instantly fuming. Is he serious?!

"What did he do?" You grit out lowly. Even though it was a question your tone was demanding an answer, a fully in depth answer as well.

And a full report he sure did give you. He told you the full story exactly how Yamagishi told him and his other friends the day it happened. It was like the more Yamagishi's friend spoke the more your blood boiled, and by the time he finished telling you the tea, you were ready to find Kazutora.

"Oh, I got somethin' for him. Imma deal with his ass..trust." Was all you said before turning on your heels and storming down the hallway to your homeroom.

💎

You couldn't wait not a second more for lunchtime to come around, so when it finally did you jumped straight into action. Of course you told the girls what happened to which even they were annoyed about it. Everyone knows Yamagishi is a sweetheart, so picking a fight with him knowing he's not a fighter all like that anyways is just absolutely ridiculous. First of all, you're not even Kazutora's girlfriend, and second, for him to act so possessive like you can't have other guy friends besides him is childish!

The girls saved your spot at the lunch table, already knowing you were off to find him before he could even come to you. You walked through the halls like a lion hunting for its prey, focused on one thing only until you finally saw him.

There he was by the vending machine in the hallway before you reach the cafeteria, looking all calm and collected.

You storm up to him, the sound of your school shoes making contact with the ground alerting him of your presence. It just pissed you off even more the way his expression brightened when he noticed you.

"Hey! I was just on my-

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" You cut him off.

"-way...?" He finishes, blinking a few times in confusion while looking down at you with his brows furrowed.

"Why'd you beat up Yamagishi?! You told me you were only going to fight Osanai that day! You really had the audacity to tell him to stay away from me?! Who the hell are you?!" You rant, feeling your face starting to heat up with anger.

"You're mad at me because of that? He's the one that let Osanai hurt you in the first place." He shrugged, like it was the very last thing occupying his mind.

"I had already handled Yamagishi that same day though! He said he was sorry, and you already know he doesn't fight!" You defended, throwing your arms up exasperatedly.

"He should've thought about that before asking you out then. He already went wrong right there." He scoffed.

"Are you serious?!" You furrow your brows with a scoff, genuinely shocked.

"I'm very serious. He had no business asking you out knowing he can't protect you at all. He's lucky all Osanai did was give you one black eye! What if he did worse?!" He argued. It actually annoyed you a lot that he kind of made sense there.

You clench your jaw, looking to the side and letting out a deep exhale through your nose.

"Look...I was mad, alright?" He mutters softly.

"You can't just beat somebody up because you're mad, K! Like, I'm mad but I'm not beating you up." You grumble.

He lets out the tiniest chuckle. You both knew full well you'd never be able to beat him up. "I think both my anger and beating him up was justified. I can't let something like that slide; not anymore." He mumbles the last part to himself.

"Not anymore?" You question, looking back up at him curiously. He was already looking down, his hands clenched into fists at each side. You've never seen him look like this before. He wasn't angry or even worried, he just looked regretful.

"It's just-...I used to be the one to watch while someone else gets beat in front of me all the time. I hated that I could never do anything except cry and curl up in some corner." Kazutora explains bitterly, his eyes carrying a hollow, far off look.

You gasp lightly, hovering your hands over your mouth. "What do you mean?" You ask, mouth still hanging open in shock. You really hoped it wasn't what your mind was starting to conclude that it was. He sighs deeply before continuing.

"Before my parents got divorced, my dad would-... he'd beat my mom all the time. I was little, so it was never really anything I could do about it. So when I found out Yamagishi was the one that let you get hurt like that..." He looks back up at you, letting you connect the rest of the dots.

"Ohh." You whisper, suddenly feeling like a fool for pressing him. You had no idea, you just figured he beat him up out of some kind of stupid possessiveness he has towards you, but it was way deeper than that. Without a second thought you wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his chest.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know any of that." You apologize, nuzzling your face into him in hopes of comforting him.

"It's...fine?" He mutters awkwardly, hesitantly wrapping his arms around you.

It's the first time he's ever shared anything about his family dynamic, and definitely the first time someone's comforted him about it. He felt weird, like he didn't know what to do, but he also felt...a little good about it?

"No it's not. I was all yellin' at you and stuff. I'm really sorry." You repeat, sniffling a little as you start to tear up. You were never strong when it comes to things like this. You could watch someone cry in a movie scene and be bawling your own self. Hearing about Kazutora having such a past...it hurt you somewhere deep. Then to think he got triggered that badly all from what happened while you were with Yamagishi. Of course it doesn't mean hurting Yamagishi is right, but there's clearly some traumatic things Kazutora's been dealing with for a pretty long time.

His father's absolute garbage, and you hope he's completely out of his and his mom's life. Hopefully his mom moved on and found somebody better too; a real husband.

"It's ok. Are you crying?!" He looks down at you in bewilderment. Now the two of you were really out of his territory. You nod slowly, holding onto him tighter.

"Oh. Well uhhh, don't cry, ok? 'S nothing to cry about." He reassures awkwardly, gently patting your back.

His words meant for comfort only made you feel a thousand times worse. Him, the one who went through such a traumatic childhood is saying it's nothing to cry about?! Something's definitely wrong for sure, and you feel terrible for never noticing it. He always looks so cheerful and bubbly, but of course, that's what most people do when they're trying to hide something about themselves that they don't want other people to see.

Once he notices you aren't letting go any time soon he sighs, resting his head on top of yours.

"I don't want you to pity me, ok?" He mumbles softly into your hair.

"I don't. I just don't like hearing that someone I care about went through something like that. I'm sad." You murmur right back into his uniform, sniffling much more frequently. If you kept going like this, your mascara's gonna start running. Kazutora's heart clenched so hard in his chest. He felt butterflies hearing you say he was someone you care about, but it also hurt him seeing you so upset.

"Come on. Don't cry anymore, ok? Please?" He leans up from your hair, placing his hands on your shoulders. You look up at him, your bottom lip slightly pouting, and nod, wiping your eyes carefully.

"Wanna go back to the caf now?" He suggests softly.

"Mm mm. I wanna stay with you." You whine childishly. He laughs lightly at your cute expression.

"But your food's back there. Come on, we'll be alone together anyways when I walk you home later." He chuckled lightly, walking you back into the cafeteria.

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

You had thought, with good reason, that after that emotional moment you and Kazutora shared together he'd be back to normal, no longer acting so awkward and skittish around you. Yeah, no..he's still being like that. You figured that due to the heat of the moment he wasn't really thinking about anything else except comforting you so you'd stop crying.

Now that that moment's passed, things are even more awkward than before.

"So...how was the rest of school for you?" You ask, trying to break the silence that's been ongoing for about seven minutes since the two of you left the school building.

"Uuuh..boring as usual, I guess." He replies shortly with a little shrug.

"Same." You mumble dryly, pursing your lips afterwards.

Aaaand we're right back to the silence. You sigh dramatically in frustration.

"K, why're you being so quiet all the time now? You're acting so weird." You question, looking up at him with a slight pout.

"What? I don't think I'm any different." He furrows his brows slightly.

"Liar. You don't even put your arm around me anymore like you used to." You grumble bitterly, looking straight ahead as you adjust your tote bag strap on your left shoulder.

"Do you want me to put my arm around you?" He asked.

"I mean, not necessarily, I was just pointing out stuff you used to do that you don't do anymore." You answer back as nonchalantly as possible.

"But if you pointed it out doesn't that automatically mean it's something you want me to do?" He probed, leaning down a bit closer to you.

"....Sure, yeah..maybe I do." You reply sassily, trying to hide the embarrassment on your face.

"Then..I'll do it." He affirms, his cheeks already starting to turn pink.

"Ok, fine." You mumble plainly, trying to hold back the excited smile wanting to make its way on your face as his arm hesitantly wraps around your shoulders, bringing you close to him.

Every time you both are close like this it always feels so different from before Halloween. The air becomes heavy, the sound of your heart beat seems ten times louder, your palms get all sweaty, and your face gets unbearably hot. Worst part of it all your mind starts going crazy with thoughts when you get like this.

You think about how you want so badly to kiss him again. To touch and kiss each other again just like that night, maybe something even more than that. It almost feels wrong having thoughts like this when you didn't know for sure if Kazutora thought similar things.

The girls always know how to make it seem so simple, so obvious that he feels the same, but it's so hard to see it when you're in a situation like this in real time.

If I kissed him would he push me away...?

Even if you had the guts to kiss him you knew you probably shouldn't do it. He's already acting different, it would highly likely make it worse. At this point you weren't even sure when you should ever invite him over to your place again. He'd probably completely lose his mind if you were on the same bed together again.

You sigh, closing your eyes and leaning your head just slightly against his chest. This'll have to be enough for now, but in the meantime you figure it's time to whip out the big guns when it comes to boy advice.

💎

"-And then...we actually ended up kissing there, but after we left from the park it was like he was completely different. He wouldn't do anything that he used to, and still doesn't unless I point it out like I did today! That's the only reason he even put his arm around me, 'cause I mentioned he'd stopped doing it."

Your mom listens intently from the edge of your bed, trying not to show her ever growing smile.

"I was waiting for when you'd finally tell me about this boy." She says warmly.

Your jaw drops, completely taken aback by her words.

"Wha-...you knew about him this whole time?!" You gawked, completely shook.

"Girl, I knew from the get-go, don't even play." She chuckles lightly. "I knew after weeks and weeks had passed that you liked him and would come to me about him eventually. I was just waitin'." She chuckled, brushing you off with a hand.

"Well, so...what do you think?" You inquire nervously, fiddling around with your hands in your lap.

"There's nothing to think! He likes you; it's clear as day! You don't even gotta stress about this one, honey."

"But why does he act so weeeeird?!" You whine dramatically.

"Because he likes you, as I just said! That's how guys are. He made a move randomly, 'cause from how you're describing it he definitely didn't plan it, and now he's freaking out because he went and blurred the lines of y'alls relationship." She explains with an amused chuckle.

You stay quiet, brows furrowed as you think over what your mom said.

"Sometimes, there are guys that have a hard time facing their feelings, and unfortunately, this boy seems to be one of them." She adds, placing a hand on your knee.

"Don't decide nothin' for him, ok? You let him figure out his feelings and come to you.We're not chasin' any guys, no matter how cute."

"Why do you think he's struggling with facing his feelings?" You murmur curiously.

"Oh honey, it could be anything. Sometimes they're just nervous, other times it can be a little more complicated than that. If he's strong enough, he'll be able to acknowledge how he feels about you and decide what he wants to do. If he's not, and he keeps teetering around back and forth...then you decide for him, and you keep it pushin'. That doesn't mean end the friendship and walk away, but you make it clear y'all will be nothing more than friends." She explains, her tone more serious now.

You nod, looking up at her.

"Today...we got into a fight but then it turned out to be something sad." You mutter.

"What d'you mean somethin' sad?" She says with concern, raising her left brow.

"Well remember when I got that black eye with the boy from my math class?" You pause, watching her nod as a sign to continue. "Ok so Kazutora had actually went and beat up the guy who did that to me, this dude named Osanai, but he didn't tell me he also went and beat up Yamagishi too that same day. He said he was mad that he didn't keep me safe, but he also said it was because it reminded him..of when his dad would beat his mom when he was younger."

Your mom's lips part slightly, sucking in a short breath as she listens to you. Immediately she was filled with a deeper concern than before. Back when she was much younger, before you were even born, she had spent a lot of time as a youth pastor, caring for the kids who carried trauma and had to deal with neglectful, hateful parents. She's always loved kids, and it would anger her beyond belief when the parents of the kids from her youth group would try and justify why they treat their children the way they do.

"I had started crying 'cause...he'd never told me that, and it kinda clicked. He's always so bubbly and like really upbeat, but I think it might be because he's actually really sad." You explain softly, a deep frown on your face.

"He fights a lot, and before he met me he used to never really come to school. I had a thought while he was walking me home that maybe his dynamic with his mom at home still isn't any better even though his dad is gone." You add, looking over at her again for her reaction.

"Ok...well, there may definitely be some 'things' inside him that he needs to work through. I also think he's probably acting weird around you because you might be the only person he feels safe with, so he doesn't want to mess that up; what he has with you." She says softly.

"Yeah. That makes sense." You sigh.

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

Kazutora's story about his family was all you could think about as you laid in bed. You'd spent a majority of the night worrying about him.

This only made you realize just how much you actually didn't know about him. That was just one little piece of the story, who knows how many more details and puzzle pieces fit into the rest of it. It would probably be wrong to just ask him about his past, you didn't want to upset him or even trigger him in some kind of way. You honestly didn't know too much about mental health and all the nuances and verbiage that comes along with it.

He could have PTSD or..something from what happened in his past. If he does have something like that he's damn good at hiding it...at least around you.

A deep sigh left your lips, letting go of the situation so you could finally sleep. You'd have to figure this out another time.

[nuked126]

Chapter 9 - Night, The Sicilian Dragon?!

Our heroes are driving away in a stolen car, feeling proud of themselves for managing to steal 4 dragon balls. "What now?" Maze asks. "We wait and prepare. Who knows when we will encounter that strange thing again." Cliver says. Suddenly, a girl stands on top of their moving vehicle, and smashes their car’s engine, making the car crash to the ground. The guys try to grab themselves from whatever they can to not fly off as the girl jumps into the vehicle and lands on the ground, waiting for the car to stop. They get out of the vehicle, looking at the girl as she quickly sprints towards them and begins a flurry of attacks. They block and dodge the attacks, until she suddenly stops and backs up. “I guess he wasn’t lying, these humans definitely have trained with the old man” Night thinks. “Wait, why are we fighting? Who are you?” Cliver asks. “Does it matter? You’re going to die anyway.” Night tells coldly. “A little bit.” Maze says. Night continues to attack with minimal effort, and our heroes struggle to keep up. “Just give up. You’re wasting your energy.” She says. “C’mon! Could you atleast tell us why we are getting killed?” Maze asks anxiously. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m here for the dragon balls.” She tells them annoyed as she’s trying to pummel them. “I guess that was obvious, So you’re one of the dragon’s lackeys?” Cliver says, but then she suddenly stops her attack. “No, I am Night, one of the six Sicilian dragons.” Night reveals. Both of them are shocked. “Wait really? You don’t look like a dragon.” Maze asks. “I’m using a Sicilian shapeshift technique. It’s a technique that Master King learned from one of the Transformation schools. In his time he used it to avoid being hunted for being a Sicilian dragon, but now the technique is, as he calls it, “obsolete.” Night says to our heroes. “Doesn’t that drain your Ki, why are you wasting your energy using an “Obsolete” technique?” Cliver asks. “Because… I hate being a dragon!” Night shouts as they look surprised. “Everything about being born this way has caused me nothing but frustration. First I was locked with my brothers in that cave for years, it was a prison. “You’re a dragon, you must learn how to fight!” l I don’t like fighting, I hate it! But then, Kuwin made a plan to escape. I thought I could be free, have a normal life, go to school, have a boyfriend, go to the local cafe and talk with my friends… but no. I got roped into this crazy plan about ruling the world.” Night spouts with hatred. “Why don’t you leave then? I’m sure you can accomplish what you want.” Maze tells Night. “That’s impossible. No matter what facade I put on, I’m nothing but a warrior, that’s what I was born as.” She says in a tiresome tone. “Wait, hold on.” Maze says as he goes back to the car. Cliver and Night look at him confused. He pulls out a duffel bag and throws it at Night. “Catch!” Maze shouts. She grabs it and gives a weird leer. She opens it, and sees all 4 Dragon Balls inside. “With the Dragon Balls, you could ask to be human right? Just don’t give them to Kuwin.” Maze says. She gives no reaction. “You’re too naive, that story could’ve been made up just to fool us, you know. Besides, what about reviving your village?” Cliver tells Maze. “I thought of that. And I think my wish is just selfish. I only wanted to wish for my village to be revived because I was alone. I don’t think disturbing their rest is as good of a wish as hers.” Maze says. Night looks like she begins to tear up. “This…is the nicest thing  someone has ever done for me. But why? Why are you doing this? '' she asks. “‘Cause he’s a bleeding heart and very gullible. But that’s his charm.” Cliver says. 

The mood seems to have lifted. However, the peaceful moment would not last long. As a strange creature was coming closer in the distance. It’s Android 11, sensing all 4 Dragon Balls close. What will happen to our Heroes?

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[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand) 

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous.  ҉   next.

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Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it. 

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge. 

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too. 

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view. 

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”. 

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute. 

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets. 

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

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An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance. 

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?” 

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over. 

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

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You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae. 

looking hot, her message read. 

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWO || FOR MYSELF

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + gojo satoru + ryomen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mentions of violence and EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 09 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.0k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : ryomen sukuna

↳ next episode : girl of steel

↳ barista’s notes : since you loved the first one so much, i decided to do episode two for you guys ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ also i am now addicted to genshin impact and right now, i am on adventure rank 19 and already cleared the ‘stormterror lair’ thing ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ i hope you enjoy this cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen) and come again soon!

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’

3. this whole thing might be confusing and please don’t expect a part three because i will do it when i am ready or feel like i can at the right time ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ

4. i don’t know, if i am going to add this onto my masterlist since this was just for fun to be honest!

“What’s the situation?” 

All of a sudden, a new voice came into the area leading you to turn your head to the side to find a rather tall male standing next to Fushiguro. From a quick glance, you could immediately inform yourself that had spiky white hair with a black blindfold covering his eyes, as he carried a paper bag on his arm while wearing a similar outfit to Fushiguro meaning he was another sorcerer.

“Gojo-sensei?! Why are you here?” Fushiguro asked in surprise, as he turned to look at what you assumed to be his teacher leading to the shadows around him to immediately disappear from sight.

“Gojo…” you muttered under your breath as you looked at the two male sorcerers right in front of you in horror as you came to the realisation of the situation you were facing.

‘Mother…..I’ve been found…..’

                                                   ꕥ

“Hey!’ the teacher cheerfully greeted while waving an arm to his student as a short greeting. “I wasn’t planning on coming, but man, you’re roughed up,” Gojo explained, before leaning forward as if he was taking a closer look at Fushiguro to which then caused lead to his hand to go into his pocket as he proceeded to pull out his mobile phone. “I should show the second years, face this way!” the sorcerer playfully stated as he began to take a multitude of photos of the ‘roughed up’ student, leading to the subject of his images to turn away while covering his face with his arm.

Looking at the scene with anxiety looming above you like a rainy cloud, you swiftly turned your head back to see if you could find a way out without both of them as well as Itadori noticing as they were distracted for the time being.

‘Shit, the only way I can escape is either jumping from this floor or going through the large gap behind me, but that’s gonna make them notice. What am I going to do?!’

“Ah! Miss, I know you are already there, so no need to escape!” Gojo suddenly stated, causing you to quickly turn back with widened eyes - surprised at the fact that he knew what was on your mind - to find the teacher waving at you with the same greeting he gave to Fushiguro as if he had known you for some time, like an old friend one would say.

‘Ah…..what a drag….’ you thought, as you then carefully picked up the katana that had landed in front of you when the curse was exorcised before slowly sliding it back into the casing that was behind your back.

“The higher-ups wouldn’t such up with a special-grade cursed object gone missing, so I stopped by while doing some sightseeing,” Gojo explained while looking down his phone like he was checking something when in your mind, you assumed that he was going through the photos that he took of Fushiguro due to his jolly smile that was displayed on his face.

‘Maybe, if you damn sorcerers got the cursed object sooner before the damn protective seal was ripped off, WE WOULDN’T BE IN THIS SITUATION!’ you argued in your head, as you slowly began to realise the reasonings why your mother never took a liking to the higher-ups, to begin with.

‘Those higher-ups are so useless, all they do is command other sorcerers to do their dirty work while acting if they are superior dear. If I could, I would kill all of them’

“So, did you find it?” the blindfolded teacher asked, as he looked up from his device only for your schoolmate to interrupt the sorcerer’s conversation as he raised up his hand in a guilty manner. “Um...Sorry, but I ate it,” Itadori confessed, as he then pointed to himself to emphasise the statement leading Fushiguro to look down to the floor in what seemed to be in shame while Gojo turned to look at Itadori with a shocked expression.

“For real?” Gojo asked, trying to make sure that it wasn’t some sort of joke.

“For real,” Itadori and Fushiguro answered simultaneously, confirming that it wasn’t a joke at all.

In a complete rage, you slowly made your way towards your schoolmate before grabbing his shoulders with as much might as you could as you then turned him around to face you. 

“I don’t know who broke that damn seal I placed on that stupid little hut, but maybe if you haven’t taken that finger, we wouldn’t be in this situation where these two dumbass sorcerers would be in our lives right now!!” you screamed in frustration leading to the two mentioned sorcerers to look at you with dumbfounded looks painted on their faces while Itadori just peered at you with an extremely surprised expression.

During the school hours, Itadori had seen you a few times around the hallways and in his class when you had to collect something for another teacher. From what he could read off, you were the calm and collective type, someone who was on top of their academics while being able to maintain close relationships with other students between the three-years that Sugisawa Municipal Highschool offered. Even though you came off a bit blunt from time to time when calling something or someone a ‘drag’, the students liked that from you since that meant you were being honest to them as well as to yourself, just like the time when you surprised everyone when you rejected being part of the school’s council's committee much to the President’s begging. 

“But...shouldn’t you like sorcerers since you seem like one?” Itadori questioned with a confused tone, leading you to look at him with a rather both understandable but irritated expression which caused him to be nervous somewhat due to you being out of character.

“Just because I am one, doesn’t mean I like any of them!” you counted back, as you pointed towards the direction of Fushiguro and Gojo before continuing with “it was such a drag when Fushiguro was here this afternoon and it’s more of one now that two of them are here!” as you then let go of his shoulders before turning away to lean against the crooked metal balcony to relax your vocal cords after screaming so much.

Taking the opportunity, Gojo leaned to the side as if he was inspecting Itadori like he was painting before coming closer to the teenage boy with his hand on his chin as if he was thinking what he could do now. “Hehe, damn, it really did combine with you. That’s hilarious,” Gojo amusingly stated, causing you to turn back to look at the scene with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

‘What is hilarious about the situation right now? This isn’t something to find assuming Gojo’

“Anything off with your body?” Gojo questioned, after straightening his back leading itadori to inspect his body for a quick few seconds.

“Not particularly,” Itadori answered.

“Can you swap out with Sukuna?” Gojo then asked, leading you to then fully turn back to look at the special-grade sorcerer with extreme confusion and astonishment as you begin to wonder what hit Gojo’s head before coming here to the school.

“Sukuna?” Itadori confusingly stated as he looked at Gojo with a perplexed expression.

“The curse you stupidly ate,” you quickly answered, as you gave Itadori a serious glance before letting out a sigh of frustration leading Fushguro to quickly tug your arm as you dropped down to his height before you snatched your arm back, worried about what the Zenin relative would do to you.

“Oh…Yeah, I think I can do that,” Itadori clarified, as he placed his hand on his hip before giving a nod to emphasise this statement.

Stepping back, Gojo suddenly began to stretch in a weird position, which suddenly reminded you of a certain baseball player, but you couldn’t recall who before stating with confidence, “then give us ten seconds, once ten seconds are up, come back to us.”

‘Great, I’m going to die young…” you jokingly thought, as you looked to the side with a grim look as if you were staring at the death ripper at this very moment in time.

“But..” Itadori wavered, as he started to be concerned about Gojo's request since he didn’t know what damage Sukuna could do or how the teacher was going to be at the end of it. “Don’t worry, I’m the strongest,” Gojo confidently stated, leading to another grim look to appear on your face, as you were getting annoyed at his constant confidence even though you knew he had the right to be.

“Megumi, hold on to this,” Gojo demanded before throwing the bag towards his student, leading to the catcher to catch it with his hands before looking down on the paper bag with curiosity.

“Megumi?” you quietly questioned as you suddenly discovered that the sorcerer next to you had a feminine name - since it was quite rare to hear a male have a name that was generally used for the female gender. 

“What is this?” Fushiguro asked before his teacher stretched his arms right in front of both of you before answering, “Kikufuku from Kikusuian! It’s Sendai’s speciality, and it’s super good! I recommend the zunda and cream flavour!”

‘So...this man bought mochi when people here were dying, ah...that was dumbass~’

“It’s not a souvenir, I’m going to eat it on the bullet train home,” Gojo stated as if he needed an explanation for his actions. However, what got your full attention was the black markings that were gradually coming onto Itadori’s skin before he suddenly jumped up into the air while Gojo was still explaining his reasoning for this purchase.

“Uh Oh~” you commented, as you stared at the sky with widened eyes before Fushiguro screamed for his teacher’s attention at the curse directing an attack from behind. However, it seemed like his teacher wasn’t fazed on second as he continued explaining the reason why he bought the mochi, “Kikufuku’s not like other souvenirs…”

‘I THOUGHT YOU SAID IT WASN’T A SOUVENIR!’ you screamed in your mind before ducking your head down as Itadori’s body finally crashed back to the ground, trying to make sure that the debris didn’t blind you at all. Quickly looking back up to check what was happening, you suddenly came into eye to eye contact with a bright shade of ruby mixed with a hint of malevolence. You came to the realisation that it was Sukuan who was now in front of you while Gojo was casually sitting on his hack like a horse.

“And the whipped cream inside is simply exquisite..” Gojo continued talking, causing you to give off a confused expression on what really was going on inside the special-grade sorcerer’s mind and what his main priority was right now. Suddenly, Sukuna made a 180 degree turn to aim for another attack, yet the second Gojo clasped his hands together, he once again missed and as well as the other attacks he tried to execute.

Unexpectedly, Gojo appeared behind Sukuna’s back before leaning back to say something within his ear, “my student and a little sorcerer’s watching, so I’m going to show off a little.” Instantaneously, Gojo disappeared once again before grabbing the curse vessel’s arm as he then processed to hit Sukuna’s face with his arm, leading to Itadori’s body to slightly fling itself up in the air.

‘What is he manipulating? Time? No, that’s not it….is it like a vacuum? But that means he would be controlling empty space with no particles…’

Suddenly, you slightly noticed the slight manipulated on the air as Gojo’s arm begins to swing leading you to come to the conclusion that Gojo’s cursed technique might be the control of space at an atomic level, leading to a massive pressure to hit the King of Curses as his body smashed into the only part of metal railing that wasn’t bent.

“For crying out loud, you jujutsu sorcerers are always trouble, no matter what era!” Sukuna declared as he, once again, jumped into the air while somehow carrying massive pieces of the broken wall along with him before slamming down at Gojo’s direction. “Though that doesn’t mean much to me,” Sukuna arrogantly stated, with a smirk on his face as some of the windows processed to smash. 

However, the second the thin debris started to clear up, Sukuna’s expression quickly twisted into shock as a brightly lit barrier enclosed his opponent, yet he wasn’t the one that had a surprised expression on his face. Turning back around, Gojo found you kneeling next to Fushguro with a flat palm on the ground as your curse energy flowed down to the ground as if the box just didn’t just end on the ground that they were standing on right now.

“This is such a drag,” you muttered before standing up straight as you observed the walls making sure that there wasn’t a single crack when the rocks could have hit. “Seven, eight, nine, ten,” you counted and right on time there was a sudden change in curse energy pressure around you leading you to come to the conclusion that Itadori was now switching back, surprising Sukuan once again at the circumstances that he was in.

“Oh, was everything okay?” Itadori innocently asked, one the marking disappearing leading you to undo your curse spell as the walls slowly started to fade away with little blue parts flying away like they were little fireflies. 

“I’m shocked, you really can control it!” Gojo cheered while Fushiguro looked onto the scene with such surprise and confusion on what was happening.

“He’s kind of annoying, though,” Itadori commented as he continuously smacked his head, “I can hear his voice.”

‘And is smacking your head gonna make it better, idiot?’

“It’s a miracle that’s all he’s doing,” Gojo stated, with a smirk on his face as he began to walk towards Itadori before suddenly placing his middle and index finger on the salmon-haired forehead, causing Itadori to freeze for a second before giving in to the suddenly unconscious feeling empowering his body to which lead to his falling within the teacher’s arms.

“What did you do?” Fushiguro asked with slight worry in his tone.

“Knocked him out,” Gojo then answered. “If he isn’t possessed by Sukuna when he wakes up, he might have potential as a vessel,” the white-haired sorcerer explained as he then turned to his student with a question in mind. 

“Now, I have a question for you, what should we do with him and the little miss, who is trying to run away?” 

Confused, Fushiguro turned around, only to find you with your back turned to both of them as your foot halted the second his teacher had mentioned you. Turning back around Fushiguro then looked at his teacher with a serious expression displayed on his face, “even if he is a vessel, jujutsu regulations demand Itadori be executed. However, I don’t want to let him die!”

“Your personal feelings?” Gojo playful asked his student with a smirk on his face before Fushguro quickly answered, “yes, please do something about this.”

“Hehe~ Now it’s a request from a previous student,” Gojo stated, as he proceeded to lift up the unconscious teenager onto this shoulder. “Leave it to me! But also, what do you want to do with Miss runaway?” Gojo commented, once again leading you to halt your movement as you surprisingly made some distance between you and the two sorcerers now staring at your back.

‘Ah…..caught again…..’

Turning around, you looked towards the two sorcerers with a nonchalant expression displayed before giving them the hand gesture of ‘shooing them away. “There’s nothing you got to do with me, take Itadori and make sure to do what you’re planning to do, don’t drag me into your mess,” you commented, as you turned around once again, only to find the infamous sorcerer to be standing right in front of you with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Come on~ Jujtutsu Tech is so much fun, you get to make a few friends and you get to bug Megumi!” Gojo cheerfully tried to persuade you, only for you to scoff in annoyance at this futile attempt to invite you to the school that your mother informed you all about.

“I rather not be near anyone belonging with the three clans,” you irritatedly declared as you placed your hand on your hip trying to keep a distance between you and the teacher. However, this statement of yours caused Gojo and Fushiguro to look at you with surprise painted on their faces. How much did you know about the Jujutsu world? How did you have the acknowledgement of the three great families? Who were you and how much you had the strength to stop Sukuna’s attack within a millisecond?

“L/N!” Fushiguro stated, leading you to turn to him with an angered expression on your face which caused Gojo to peer at you with seriousness clouding his entire body.

“L/N huh?” Gojo curiously questioned, “no wonder your curse technique is familiar to what those old documents have told.”

Taken back to his discovery, you turned back to look at Gojo will a deadpan expression leading him to then carefully suggest, “Since you are part of the lost L/N clan, I won’t tell the higher-ups about your existence but rather have you twist your name slightly when you enrol, how does that sound?”

Glancing at the teacher with suspicion, you tried to hide the gut-wrenching feeling that there was not a possible chance of you now escaping from this. You had been caught and found and there was no way to lie yourself out of this situation you were in, not when Gojo had discovered who you really were while Fushiguro seemed to look clueless on what was going on between his teacher and the female sorcerer in front of him.

Letting out a sigh of frustration once again, you looked up at the sky, letting the same moonlight bathe your face as it did for Sukuna a few minutes ago.

“What a drag”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter five rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

“Why are you in such a mood?” Ned asked his best friend as they walked to their college campus. Peter had been grumpy all morning and Ned was quick to notice. He usually showed up at Ned’s door exhausted but eager to share the adventures from the night before, but he seemed defeated today.

“I got my ass beat last night.” Peter grumbled as he shouldered his backpack.

“By who?” Ned wondered.

“I don’t even know.” Peter sighed. “I think it was some kind of alien.”

“What’d it look like?” Ned asked. It wasn’t uncommon for Ned to ask a million questions after being told something Spider-Man related. After all, he was the guy in the chair.

“Like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” Peter said swallowed and tried to push the previous night from his mind. He’d rather focus on this morning, and the moment he had shared with you. Peter felt such a strong connection to you, and he would’ve stayed on that rooftop all day if he could.

“Describe it to me.” Ned pleaded, tearing Peter from his thoughts.

“I don’t know. It was like eight feet tall, black, and bald. And it was super veiny.” Peter grimaced while Ned’s eyes widened.

“Oh my God. You fought Shaquille O’Neal?” Ned gasped.

“Keep your voice down. I did not fight Shaquille O’Neal.” Peter whispered harshly. Ned always seemed one step away from blowing Peters cover. Peter gave bashful smiles to the passing students who gave him weird looks upon hearing Ned’s words.

“Terry Crews?” Ned continued. Peter rolled his eyes at his best friend and starting walking to class.

“No. This is serious.” Peter said, his voice heavy with annoyance.

“I know it’s serious. You got beat up by The Rock.” Ned remarked. Peter fidgeted with the strings on his backpack, still bothered knowing he was beaten so easily by Venom.

“The Rock is Samoan, not black.” Peter corrected.

“I know. But I heard “bald” and I just automatically envisioned The Rock.” Ned defended.

“There’s another thing. It had this huge, gaping mouth with rows and rows of teeth. I keep thinking about it.” Peter shivered. “It came so close to me. And its tongue was super long. It was like a cracked out frog.”

“So a ninja turtle? You got beat up by a ninja turtle?” Ned gawked.

“It wasn’t a ninja turtle.” Peter snapped. “ It was black, remember?”

“So an emo ninja turtle.” Ned deadpanned.

“It kept saying “we”. “ Peter remembered.

“What do you mean?”

“There was only one of them, but they only referred to themself as “we” as if there were multiple of them.” Peter explained.

“Do you think there could be more? Like an alien army or something?” Ned asked incredulously. Peter hadn’t even thought about that.

“Maybe. I remember something else, it’s name was Venom.” Peter recalled. He distinctly remembered those words coming out of the creatures mouth.

“Venom?” Ned repeated, clearly finding it cool.

“Yeah. And I told it my name. I used my regular voice too.” Peter realized. He usually disguised his voice when speaking, but he had been so scared that he forgot to. It haunted him knowing the creature now knew who he was and he wondered if it knew both of his identities.

“Wow. This is so cool. Not cool for you, because you might die. But this is super cool for me.” Ned smiled as he envisioned what Venom might look like.

“Thanks, ned. Actually, wait.” Peter stopped in his tracks. “One more thing happened.”

“What?” Ned whispered as they approached their class.

“Venom was about to eat me but then it started talking to itself. It sounded maybe like it was having a conversation with someone? I’m not sure, I could only hear one side of it.” Peter explained. “It put me down, well it threw me down, and let me go. But before it left, it said something about a girl. I don’t really remember. I was too focused on catching my breath.”

“Catching your breath? Were you running?”

“No. It choked me.” Peter told him as he lightly touched his neck.

“Kinky.” Ned smirked as he took a seat next to Peter in their class.

“That’s gross.” Peter stifled a laugh. “Did I tell you about this morning with Y/N?”

“No. Tell me.” Ned said. He wasn’t disappointed in the change of topic. He was glad Peter had moved on on from Liz, finally. Peter recounted the discussion he had with you that morning, barely getting through it without blushing and laughing at certain parts.

“I really like her, Ned. More than I’ve ever liked anyone. She’s so amazing. I barely know her, but I can tell already. I want to know everything about her. I want to hear her full story. And most of all, I want to be a part of that story.” Peter declared but frowned suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” Ned asked.

“After our talk, we just kinda sat there staring at each other for a while.” Peter began. “She kinda leaned in, and I did too, but then this seagull flew by and scared us half to death. We laughed about it but the moment was gone.”

“So you almost kissed her?” Ned smiled. “Why is that upsetting you?”

“Because what if that was our chance and I blew it?” Peter feared. “What if that seagull was a sign from above that I was in way over my head? Like God was asking me who I was to think I could just kiss the most perfect girl in the world? She’s so cool, Ned. Way too cool for me. She’s already had a boyfriend and I’ve never even kissed anyone.”

“If it’s meant to happen, it will happen.” Ned assured him.

“Or, the same thing that happened with Liz will happen.” Peter argued. “I won’t tell her how I feel and then she’ll be gone forever.”

“Then don’t let that happen.” Ned reasoned. “Tell Y/N how you feel. Do it tonight, before you go on patrol. And if she doesn’t feel the same, then at least you’ll know. Isn’t it better to know?”

“When did you become such a love expert?” Peter teased as the professor walked into the room.

“Since I started dating Betty. She’s opened my eyes to what love really is.” Ned shrugged. “Tell her tonight. Then tell me how it goes. I’m here for you either way.”

Peter nodded and gave Ned a thankful smile before turning his attention to the professor.

On his walk home from campus, Peter spotted you walking down the sideways. Ned’s words of encouragement rang in his ears and he made a brash decision.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!” Peter called after you, making you turn around.

“Hey Parker. How was kindergarten?” You teased him.

“Alright alright. Majoring in chemical engineering is hardly kindergarten. And I’m only one year younger than you.” Peter reminded you. “I don’t want you to have a heart attack on me, grandma.”

“Watch it, sonny.” You kept with the joke. “I’ll hit you with my purse and then say something mildly racist.”

“Just like my grandma.” Peter laughed in amusement. “We’re gross. And not funny.”

“We really are.” You scrunched your nose. “Couple of gross ass orphans.”

Peter laughed again, feeling comfortable enough with you to joke about a tragic situation.

“Look, Y/N, I really enjoyed our talk this morning. I really enjoyed all our talks so far actually. I guess I just like talking to you. ” Peter began. He looked nervous all the sudden, like he lost his stamina. You raised your eyebrows hopefully, as there were only so many ways this conversation could go.

“I like talking to you too, Peter.” You said honestly, hoping he’d continue. Hoping he’d ask that question. Your answer seemed to give Peter the confidence he needed to go on.

“Really? Um, that’s great cause I really like talking to you too. I already said that. Oh god. I’m crashing. I-“ he began to flail and you calmed him down by taking a few steps closer. You were almost touching at that point. He stopped talking immediately and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Is there someone you wanted to ask me, Peter?” You asked slowly as you looked at him through your eyelashes.

Damn. He was tall too.

“Yes, actually. I, um, will you…would you maybe want to-“

“Hiya kids!” A gravely voice came from the front stairs of your apartment, completely cutting Peter off. Peter looked up and angrily rolled his eyes.

“Don’t look now. It’s Henry.” Peter grumbled. Henry was the creepy neighbor with the foot fetish.

“Oh Dear God.” Peter said in a low voice.

“What?” You panicked when you saw Peters expression change.

“You’re wearing flip flops.” He pointed at your black painted toes and you felt the color drain from your face.

“Run!” He whispered harshly. You bolted into your apartment and Peter ran into his. Once inside, Peter blew out an angry breath. He had been interrupted twice in one day when trying to talk to you, and he worried that it was a sign.

Back at the apartment, you sat on your bed with headphones in. You were prepping for your interview with Cletus Kasady by writing down some questions you wanted to ask him. It was hard figuring out what to ask a serial killer. You looked at your notepad and sighed. All you had written down was “but why tho?” in sloppy handwriting. You tore out the page, crumbled it up, and threw it at the trash can. When you went to write something else down, you noticed the paper ball still stuck to your hand. You shook your hand but it still wouldn’t come off.

“What the hell?” You grumbled as you shook your hand.

“Oh. This might be our fault.” Venom said suddenly.

“What might be your fault?” You asked as you continued to shake the paper off your hand, but to no avail.

“We sort of went inside Spider-Man when we were talking to him yesterday.” Venom said timidly and the paper ball dropped from your hand.

“What?” You demanded and Venom went silent.

“Come out here.” You said, like an owner to a dog.

“We’d rather stay inside.” Venom said softly.

“Get out here now. You need to explain yourself young lady.” You said sternly. Venom slowly manifested and looked at you with sad eyes.

“I’m 600 million years old, by the way.” Venom added. “You can’t call me young lady.”

“What do you mean you went inside Spider-Man?” You ignored her comment.

“When we were choking him we put one of our tendrils inside him and swirled around.” Venom explained. “He didn’t even feel it. We did though. He’s very squishy on the inside.”

“You…what?” You didn’t even know where to start. “How does that explain the paper sticking to me?”

“We think we absorbed his powers.” Venom said. “We used to watch videos of him on YouTube after you went to bed. He can stick to walls and stuff. We think that’s why the paper ball stuck to you.”

“Since when can we absorb powers?” You wondered as you looked at your hands.

“We never had a host before. We don’t really know how it works.” Venom reminded you. “But back on Klyntar, our home planet, the Grandmaster used to tell us we could absorb the powers of superhuman beings. Judging by your newfound stickiness, we think it worked.”

“What else can Spider-Man do?” You asked. “Since you’re such a big fan.”

“He can shoot webs out of his wrists. And he can return lost dogs.” Venom answered, sounding a little annoyed.

“Do you have something against Spider-Man?” You chuckled a little at her tone.

“We hate what he did last night. He thought we were the bad guy, and he let the real bad guy get away. He judged us before he had the full story. We’re not a bad guy.” Venom defended. You were surprised to hear how passionate she was about this and gave her a soft smile.

“Let’s not worry about Spider-Man right now. I want to test out our new abilities. Let’s rock and roll, baby.” You cheered, complete with rock and roll hands. The second you touched your middle finger and ring finger to your palm, a black, web-like tendril shot out from your wrist and stuck to the ceiling. You stared at the web with a gaping mouth, weakly shaking your wrist to see if it would stay attached.

It did.

“Maybe that’s one of our new abilities.” Venom said. You looked back and forth between her and the gooey web coming out of your wrist.

“Oh my God! What’s happening?” You screamed. You took your fingers off your palm and the web retracted back into your wrist. Looking at your wrist incredulously, you made the rock and roll hand again and the same web shot out from your wrist. This time, it grabbed the ceiling fan.

“V-Venom?” You asked. You didn’t know what to say.

“Try to aim it at something.” She suggested. You aimed your wrist and the lamp across the room and touched your fingers to your palm. The black web shot across the room and grabbed onto the lamp. You quickly yanked your arm back to pull the lamp towards yourself. The lamp flew across the room, smashed you in the face, and left you with a bloody nose.

“Ow.” You cried, gingerly touching your nose.

“We see this as a absolutely win.” Venom cheered. You shot her a look and went to get cleaned up.

After about a week of practice, and very little work on your questions for Cletus, you had a better handle on your webbing ability. Of course, the week also consisted of long talks with Peter on the roof, late patrols of New York, the occasional run in with a criminal, late night FaceTime calls with Peter, and beating the shit out of Spider-Man, twice. Venom eventually grew bored of using the new powers around the house, so it was time for the final test.

You stood at the rooftop ledge and looked down, talking a deep breath to calm your nerves.

“It’s a long way down.” You commented.

“Yep.” Venom replied in your head.

“We could die.” You added.

“Yep.”

“Ready?”

“We’re ready.” Venom grinned as you transformed. You stepped off the ledge and fell freely for a while, screaming the whole way down.

“Stop being a little bitch! Shoot a web!” Venom yelled. You aimed a web at a building and began to swing. You were too close to the ground and ended up knocking over a bunch of tables at an outdoor restaurant. People ran away in fear while others took out their cameras and recorded.

“We’re not here to hurt you! Peace and love!” Venom shouted as you continued to swing through the steers of New York. People began to cheer upon hearing your words.

“Do you hear that, Y/N? People are cheering. They love us.” Venom said happily.

“I love us too.” You replied. You were even happier than she was. You knew how much it hurt Venom to be seen as a monster, it was why she hated being called a parasite. You also knew it was why she hated Spider-Man. He was praised for stopping bad guys while Venom was seen as one of the bad guys he needed to stop.

“Hey, what is that thing?” A man called from the street. Venom stopped swinging and landed on the street. You proudly turned to the crowd of people, a massive grin on your face. There it was, our favorite question.

“We…are Venom.” Venom growled. People took pictures and videos of you from a distance.

“You can come closer. We won’t hurt you.” Venom assured the crowd.

“Are you like the anti Spider-Man?” Someone asked.

“Spider-Man is a joke. He can’t protect this city like we can. We are no Spider-Man. We are Venom.” Venom roared. A few people took a step back and you began to feel uneasy.

“Hey, King Kong. I want a word with you.” A sassy voice quipped from the crowd. A man in yellow sunglasses and a suit stepped forward, and you bet your ass you recognized him.

“My name is Tony Stark. Heard of me? Of course you have. Would you mind coming back to my tower with me?” He asked, but it felt more like a demand. The people in the crowd slowly dispersed and soon, you stood there alone with Tony.

“Be nice. Say yes.” You told Venom.

“Who is this guy?” She asked out loud.

“I just said my name.” Tony said, slightly annoyed.

“He’s a really famous inventor. I’ll explain later. Just follow him please.” You begged. Venom gave Tony a once over and followed him to a limo.

“Yea, you’re gonna ride up top big guy.” Tony said, patting the roof of the car.

“Girl.” Venom growled. Tony looked surprised.

“My apologies ma’am.” He raised surprised eyebrows. You rode on top of his car all the way to his tower, wondering what he could possibly want with you.

The inside of his tower was huge. Tony lead you to a lab that was bigger than yours and Peters apartments combined.

“I’ve seen videos of you on YouTube. Seems like you and Spider-Man aren’t the best of friends.” Tony remarked as he pulled out an iPad.

“We will crush his bones and snort them like cocaine.” Venom growled. Tony was just as surprised to hear that as you were.

“Now that’s a visual.” Tony smirked. “I’ll have you know, Spider-Man is a friend of mine. He’s not your biggest fan either but from what I’ve seen, you’ve done this city some good since you’ve been here. How long has that been?”

“Two weeks.” Venom answered.

“I thought so. I’d never seen you before then. And since your arrival, petty crime has dropped significantly in Queens. Criminals are too scared of getting eaten to do anything. Don’t get me wrong, I love Spider-Man and I’ll kill you if you tell him that, but no one fears him. He gets the job done, but there’s always another job to do. With you, on the other hand, your mere presence is preventing crime before it even happens.” Tony smiled to himself, like he was just given a new toy. “You’re scary, is what I’m trying to say. But you’re a good guy. It’s rare. I want it to stay that way. I want you on my team.”

“Team?”

“We’re called the Avengers. We had a bit of a falling out but the name still stands.” Tony waved his hand. “We fight bad guys together. Really, really bad guys. I think you could us some good. Plus, you’ll be taken care of for life and we’ll only call you in for serious threats. But I need a few things from you first.”

“Like what?”

“Your story.” He pointed a finger at you. “How does a giant, anthropomorphic alien wind up in New York City?”

“It’s a long story.” Venom answered.

“We can trust this man, Venom.” You told her telepathically. “I’m gonna come out okay?” Venom hesitated and Tony looked impatient to know more.

“Are you sure?” She asked you. Tony looked confused.

“Am I sure?” He pointed to himself.

“Not you.” She said. Tony looked around for who else Venom could be talking to and found no one.

“I’m sure.” You decided. “This guy is one of the good guys. We can trust him. I promise. I’m coming out.”

You slowly transformed back into yourself in front of Tonys wide eyes. Venom stayed in her snake-like form and rested on your neck.

“Hello, Mr. Stark. My name is Y/N L/N.” You shyly introduced yourself. “This is Venom. We want to help.”

Tony’s face shifted from shocked to impressed as he looked you over.

“I gotta say, I did not except someone like you to be inside that scary monster.” Tony chuckled.

“We’re not a monster, Mr. Stark. We want to help people.” You reminded him.

“I can see that.” Tony nodded. “That’s why I’ve been developing you a suit.”

“When did you do that?” You wondered. “We just met.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve been designing it while you talked. I want you to have it incase you and Venom get separated. That way, you’ll be protected until you’re back together.” Tony explained as he showed you his ipad. Sure enough, it had a drawing of a suit on it.

“I’ll get started right away. I just need a little piece of Venom. If I make the suit using her skin, you’ll have the total protection you need.” You looked at Venom for consent, who nodded and extended a tendril towards Tony. He quickly snipped a piece off and put it in a container.

“When will the suit be ready? A few months?” You asked as Tony tapped the container. Tony stopped looking at the container and laughed.

“Y/N, I’m a genius inventor. Go get lunch. It’ll be ready when you’re done.” He said.

And he wasn’t kidding. An hour and a half later, Tony presented you with a suit. You ran my fingers over it slowly, not wanted to disturb a single thing. You looked at it in awe, completely speechless at what he had created.

“Go on, try it on.” He shrugged casually. You grinned from ear to ear before rushing to the bathroom to put it on. You came out soon enough with tears in you eyes.

“You like it?” Tony asked. You looked at your covered hands in amazement. The suit was jet black, like Venom was, and hugged your body like a second skin. There was a big white spider symbol on the front, the complete opposite of Spider-Mans small black one. You figured it was a nod to being called the anti Spider-Man and it was perfect.

“Well?” Tony was still waiting for an answer. You looked up at him just as a few tears fell down you cheeks.

“We didn’t celebrate my birthday growing up because it was the anniversary of my moms death. I used to be so upset every year.” You blurted. Tony looked like he didn’t know what to say and you couldn’t blame him. That was something deeply personal and you had only just met him.

“What I’m trying to say is, I get it now.” You explained. “All those missed birthdays were for a reason. I didn’t get gifts those days because I’m getting the ultimate gift right now. This is the most amazing thing I could’ve asked for. I cannot thank you enough Mr. Stark. I’ll never take it off.”

“You can’t take it off anyway.” Tony told you. “When you don’t want to wear it, it absorbs back into your skin like Venom does. And it’s equipped with Venoms essential abilities. It’s bullet proof, knife proof, taser proof, spork proof and so on. And you can still shoot your webby things. You just won’t have super strength, super speed, or that Venus flytrap mouth of yours.”

You tested it out and shot a web towards his desk. You grabbed a pen and caught it with ease, then looked at Tony for approval.

“That’s the best I could do. It’s no Iron Man suit but it’ll suffice.” Tony said casually. You couldn’t take it anymore and rushed towards him to hug him tightly.

“Thank you.” You said into his chest. Tony patted your back awkwardly and you let go.

“It’s nothing. You can thank me by not eating Spider-Man. I know he’s annoying but he doesn’t mean any harm. Now go forth and do good.” Tony requested.

You swung back to the apartment and landed on the roof. You turned back into yourself and made your way down the steps to your floor. After this mornings conversation with Peter and the incredible suit from Mr. Stark, you were having a great day. For the first time in years, you couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (14/15)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2.4k words

Warning : angst, sad reader, angry reader, dumbass Bucky, Steve being likable for once, smartass Sam, reader finally having some friends, mention of assault, confrontation, drinking, fluff, Bec is Bucky’s sister - Rebecca

Unlike you, Bucky remembered everything. He could never forget that you were hurt because of him — tied to a chair for hours while he couldn't save you — crying on the bathroom floor as he held you. The only thing common in all of those instances was him. You had to go through shit because of him, and yet, you still didn't blame him. You wrapped your arm around him as if he wasn't the cause of your pain. It was clear that his past and the baggage that he came with didn’t bother you. In fact, you understood and accepted his trauma and still loved him. You didn't love him despite his baggage. No, you loved him with every bad thing he offered.

Bucky was sure you were delusional. No sane woman would want to be with the man who was responsible for her captivity, yet you snuggled closer towards him the moment this thought occurred in his head. And Bucky loved you more because of that, and he thought he wasn't physically capable of loving you more than he already did. Bucky knew you reciprocated those feelings, it was very obvious that both of you were a goner for the other. Nevertheless, those emotions were not voiced out loud in your relationship yet. And Bucky wanted it to stay that way.

Bucky decided to sneak out of your bed and house before you could wake up. He was aware it was cowardly of him to just leave without giving you an explanation. But if he stayed to explain, you would have asked him to stay, and he didn't have it in himself to tell you no. You were the ray of sunshine in his stormy life and he could never say no to you. You could ask him to get you the sun, and he would get it for you, even after knowing that it would kill him and the humankind in the process. He would still do it.

But what he couldn’t do was refuse you, so he would have to leave you instead.

***

You woke up a bit disoriented, unaware of the surroundings you were in. It took you a minute to process that you were in your own house and not held captive. Once you came back to your senses instinctively you called for Bucky. He held you while you slept the previous night, so he had to be out in the kitchen. When no response came back, you went out to check for him, only to be met with an empty house.

When you tried to contact him, Bucky was distant. He didn’t respond to your texts and your mind was telling you that something was wrong, but you shoved those thoughts sideways, hoping that maybe he was busy with work. But you both went through something traumatic, you needed him to be with you. If he were busy, he could have at least texted you.

Well, if he was going to ignore you, then you wouldn't be one of those people whose life revolved around their partner. You had a book to write and ambitions that didn’t involve him. 

Two hours later, when there was no word from him, you stared at the blank  screen on your computer. You weren’t unfamiliar with writer's block, but it had been months and you haven't written a single line since the incident in the club involving Rumlow. And now that you were alone with your thoughts, you started doubting everything. Should you have stayed in that corporate 9 to 5 job? You'd have a stable life and a fixed salary. Maybe you could have even got a promotion. Should you have filed a complaint against Rumlow? Bucky wanted you to, he even assured you the cops would be on your side, but you just weren't ready. You realized that by choosing to remain silent, you were sending a predator out in the world. He could do that to other people and you could have stopped it.

A knock on the front door interrupted your train of thoughts and you were grateful for the person on the other side. You assumed it was Bucky, he didn’t need to buzz in because he literally owned the building. Well, it could also be any one of his friends. Sam and Steve also didn't need permission . And the other day when Peter came by to give you your phone (you left it in the club), he didn't buzz in either. 

Seeing Wanda, Peter and Pietro on the door was a good change and God, you needed a change or else you'd go mad with self-loathing. 

“We brought pizza,” Wanda exclaimed, lifting the bag in her hand to show you.

You didn't say anything, just smiled at them thankfully. You were really delighted they were here. Not only that, but you didn't have many friends here, and you considered your work friends, your only friends. It was nice to see that they saw you as a friend too and not just someone they work with.

“And beers,” Pietro chimed in, raising the carton in his hand. 

You looked at Peter before teasing, “Is he even legal, guys?”

Seeing you joke around with them made Wanda happy. Between all the testosterone, she truly needed a female friend, and she was relieved to see you treating them as friends rather than colleagues. And she understood the trauma that must haunt you since your kidnapping. She was an empath and when you didn’t show up at work, she grew worried. 

Half an hour later, most of you were on your second beer. Pietro was on his fourth. That man was fast at everything he did. A movie was playing in the background that none of you paid attention to while everyone was settled on your couch. It wasn't a very spacious couch, you were all squashed into it, but it was too comfortable to leave. You were sitting in between Peter and Wanda, while Pietro was situated beside his sister.

You forgot how nice it felt to have friends and bitch about people to them.

“And just like that he was gone. I woke up and he wasn't there,” you told them, “Hasn't been taking my calls either.”

Pietro took a sip of his drink before saying, “What an ass!”

Wanda raised her bottle, nudging all of you to join her, and said, “Fuck men!” 

“Amen!” you agreed, Peter and Pietro nodded too.

“You should focus on your book,” Pietro advised, “Bucky is gonna regret if he loses someone like you, babe.”

The book. Your book. You couldn't tell them why you weren't focused on the book. It was still a lot to process, and you were not ready, so you nodded before chanting, “Fuck Bucky!”

***

“What are you doing here?” Sam questioned as he and his husband entered the  office.

“Last I checked, I own this place.”

Sam huffed, “I meant why are you here instead of her place, smartass?”

Bucky looked around to avoid the questioning gaze of both Sam and Steve. He hadn’t talked to Steve since the argument they had over you. Of course, they did discuss business as usual, but nothing related to their personal life.

 “She doesn't need me,'' Bucky murmured and looked at Steve. “You must be pleased to know that it's over.”

Bewilderment was clear on the faces of both the men because Bucky exhaled loudly before continuing, “I almost got her killed. It would be wise and safe for her to not be with me.”

Steve finally spoke, “Did she say that?”

When his best friend shook his head ‘no’, Steve sighed in exasperation. “You are an idiot.”

“Yeah, well, that's what you wanted, didn't you?” Bucky retorted, “For me to focus on work and not on her.”

 “I was clearly wrong, pal,” Steve raised his hand in exasperation as if it was obvious, “And I’m sorry for that.” 

“Well, it's over now.”

***

“Before I met Nat. I dated a girl who pretended to be gay,” Wanda scrunched her nose, remembering the awful memory.

“Oh yeah, weird Sallie,” Pietro smiled teasingly, “Did you guys know that when Wanda brought her home, she hit on our dad?”

 “No!” Both you and Peter cried out, stupefied at his words.

“Yeah,” Wanda outlined, “And on Pietro too.”

 “I mean, Mr. Barnes is not like this,” Peter brought the conversation back to Bucky and you sucked in a heavy breath. “I’m sure he had a good reason for doing all of this.”

“Seriously?” you were pretty drunk, but not drunk enough to talk about Bucky. You looked at Wanda and Pietro for support, but they shrugged their shoulders in a manner that said, ‘He's not wrong, though.’

You wanted to go to bed and sleep. But you knew they were right. Bucky would never hurt you intentionally, you knew that. “Do you guys know where he is now?”

***

Since trying to talk some sense into Bucky wasn't working, Sam and Steve retaliated back to talk about business.

“Clint is officially out of here,” Steve reported, “Torturing him would just create more ruckus. Rumlow is behind us because he wants his weapons in the government, and Clint would just be a casualty in all this shit. He has three kids.”

Sam huffed, “We told Laura. Her wrath would be worse for Clint than our fists.”

Bucky didn't say anything and just nodded. Steve could feel something was on Bucky's mind, wrapping his arms to his chest, he raised a brow towards his best friend.

“I’m just tired of all of this,” Bucky said sadly, “Is this what we left Rumlow for, pal? You have a kid at home, Wanda has a wife, I have ma and Bec and I haven't met them in years, in fear of someone following me. And now — Well, now I’ve lost the girl too."

Steve and Sam looked at their friend with sympathy. They knew the toll their work took on all of them. Hell, they had a four-year-old daughter at home, and could barely sleep at night, always terrified of losing their kid because of their job.

Sam was about to ask Bucky to suggest an alternative that would help all of them could to make it out of there and just work on the club and not some shady business. Suddenly, the office door flung open and on purpose, everyone’s hand reached for the gun in their waistband. But in walked you with a beer bottle in your hand and a pizza slice in another.

“JAMES BUCKY BARNES!” You exclaimed, your steps wavering a little as you walked towards him. Oh, and you looked royally pissed.

Instantly, Bucky was on his feet and making his way towards you, to hold you — to be near you. And before you could say anything, he was engulfing his arms around your waist, his head settled at the crane of your neck and you frowned. Okay, You did not expect that. You thought he would ignore you, and you would give him a piece of your mind before leaving.

Sober you would have asked him to have a mature conversation like adults, but tipsy you wanted to flip him off and leave. Your arms hung around your sides awkwardly, trying to understand the situation before finally pushing him away.

“You left me,” you spoke so softly that if Bucky wasn't so close, he wouldn't have heard it. “I needed you and you left me alone.”

Bucky’s heart broke at your words. He didn't consider how his rash decision would affect you. You were kidnapped by the person who assaulted you. Fuck, he cursed himself. He was supposed to be protecting you, not hurting you. You sounded so hurt that Bucky wanted to get on his knees and ask for forgiveness. He was so focused on your physical injuries, he did not even realize he was hurting you emotionally.

Steve cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable to present. He interrupted and took his husband’s hand in his, “We’re going to go.”

Before they could leave, you shifted your attention towards Steve and pointed a finger at him. “Why do you hate me?”

Steve stammered, he didn't expect you to put him in a spot like this, but you had a tad more than necessary liquid courage in your system.

“Doll,” Bucky breathed, and you moved your gaze back towards him. Steve took the opportunity and left the room with Sam.

You were on the verge of tears by now — both of you were — Bucky wasn't a man who could voice his feelings, but with you, all of his armor came shattering down. With you — he would tell you his vulnerabilities and fears just so he could let you in. You meant so much to him that the fear of losing you blinded his sense of understanding. He realized that he acted immaturely and by doing so, he almost lost you.

“You hurt me,” Your voice wavered, the traitorous tears made their way down your eyes, and Bucky couldn't see you like that. Instinctively, he stretched his hands to wrap around you, but stopped, “Can I hold you?”

You sniffled and nodded, and Bucky engulfed you flush against his chest. After a while, you snaked your hands around his shoulder too, and a sob broke down from your throat.

He didn't remember how long he held you like this, but after a while, he picked you up and made his way to the couch. He stood before you and then slid one hand up to your cheek. Likewise, he brushed his thumb across your cheek. And then you slowly straddled his waist as you both settled down on the soft sofa. Bucky’s hands fell naturally to your hips to pull you closer.

“I love you, Bucky,” you whispered, once your tears suspended. You enveloped your arms around him and pressed your forehead against his.

Bucky didn’t know whether you meant it or not. You were pretty drunk. He hoped you did.

“I love you, doll,” he confessed as he kissed the crown of your head. He noticed that you were on the brink of sleep, your breathing even, and you looked so peaceful in his arms.

 He felt at ease — calm even with you in his arms and in that moment he decided he was never letting you go no matter what.

TAGS :  @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​ @rivers-rambles21​ @emmabarnes​ @valsworldofcreativity​ @boofy1998​ @marvel-3407​ @mybuck​ @priii​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @ladydmalfoy​ @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @elizamalfoyy​ @maladaptivexxdaydreaming​ @sabrinathesimp

Taglist for future stuff.

[lepusrufus]

To bargain for immortality pt.5

Another few good weeks passed before they heard from their so-called goddess, gone who knows where. Not that anyone would ever question her absences, even the lords knew better than to stick their noses in her business.

When Nicole found herself once again following Emma through blue-lit underground corridors, there was an odd determination in her strides. She wanted to figure out what the hell was going on with her and Miranda, if nothing else, was a scientist who above all loved solving an equation. And what else could her situation be described as if not an intricate equation with a bit fat X as her missing factor.

She was right in thinking that Miranda would find her issue of interest, as when she finally brought it up the woman furrowed her brows and turned to face her, a clipboard grabbed from a nearby table.

“And there was nobody else?”

“No. Just me, Cassandra, the pharmacist and some guy that came for his medicine,” Nicole answered with a barely contained huff.

“What for?” Miranda tapped her pen against the paper in anticipation, a clear sign that she may be onto something and was only putting together some puzzle pieces that nobody but her could see.

Nicole had to dig through her memories for a moment. “An infection. At least that’s what the pharmacist mentioned.”

Miranda hummed and scribbled something else. There was no point in trying to decipher what exactly, the woman had the handwriting of two drunk doctors put together. How very fitting for her.

Without another word, she was on her feet, unbuttoned lab coat flowing after her the same way her black robes did when in goddess mode. “Follow me. I want to test something.”

And what else was she supposed to do really?

Quick steps took them down the hallways, black stone walls surrounding them and taking on an odd shine under the unnatural neon lights above. At least Nicole didn’t have to jog for once, Miranda not being that much taller than her.

The journey was short and they reached their destination quickly, which seemed to be a door not unlike the one belonging to the lab they had just vacated, except this one had the number 24 engraved on a small plaque on it. Miranda pushed it open to reveal a small hospital looking room, four beds divided by grey curtains but only one seemed to be occupied, a sleeping woman hooked to a heart monitor whose rhythmic beeping caused some memories to resurface in Nicole's mind.

Those memories however were quickly pushed down by a sudden burst of nausea at the decaying smell that seemed to forcefully crawl its way down her throat. Nicole all but slapped a hand to her face and turned around in a pathetic attempt to block out the overwhelming sensation. Some blood also started to trickle down her face and past trembling fingers, although thankfully not an ungodly amount like before.

By some mercy of well… herself, Miranda didn't stop her when she decided to do a wobbly turn and hastily exit the room. She followed Nicole out and observed as she slumped against a wall, pulling a tissue from a pocket to wipe at her face.

"What… the fuck," Nicole breathed out.

"Was that the same as before?" Miranda's eyes were full of a weird kind of glee that could only belong to a mad scientist. Not that that would be an inaccurate description for the woman.

Nicole only nodded, trying to get her face on a more presentable level before speaking again. "Is she-..."

Miranda scoffed. "Are you deaf? I can assure you the woman is quite alive," she responded with an eye roll.

The soft beeping monitoring the heartbeat could be heard faintly from behind the closed door, so her words had to hold some truth to them. Though her intentions were still shrouded in mystery.

"Then why the hell does she smell like that?"

"She doesn't," came the nonchalant reply and it had Nicole almost seething.

Is your ego stuffed up your nose, is what she wished she could snap and say, but she knew better.

If Miranda noticed the daggers in her eyes, she paid them no mind. Instead she noted something down on the paper precariously attached to the clipboard she got a hold of before exiting the lab they had been in previously. When she finished, she simply motioned for Nicole to follow and continued further down the hallway, without a second glance.

She only stopped once to exchange a few words with an unfamiliar assistant on the whereabouts of certain patients. Patiens. Why would Miranda keep any sort of patients down there?

Before she had time to dwell on it, Miranda pushed another door open, this time leading to another corridor dimly lit by strategically placed torches. Apparently nobody bothered to get electricity to this particular part of the underground maze of tunnels, the warm light so pleasant on the eyes as opposed to the harsh neons of the previous area. The tunnel was also long, way too long for it to be an often used path, especially given how awfully humid the air was becoming. Nicole tried to take a mental note of where they were heading, squinting her eyes in an effort to imagine what was above them, but with how convoluted the tunnels down there were, it was fruitless.

After maybe fifteen minutes of walking, awkward silence -at least awkward on her part, Miranda didn't seem to care- only broken by the echo of steps and the soft sounds of crackling fire from the torches, the tunnel ended in what looked to be a far too modern stairwell. Nicole had to pause for a second, looking at the unnerving contrast where dark ancient stone gave way suddenly to gray concrete and steel, going up in sharp angles and blocking the view to whatever laid above. The overall architecture did look vaguely familiar though, but Miranda didn't seem to have the patience for sightseeing as she quickly started walking up the stairs.

At the top of the staircase stood a steel door that was quickly unlocked to finally reveal a place that Nicole recognized. She blinked rapidly in surprise, all but freezing in the doorway at the sight of the hospital corridor she had walked down on so many times before, complete with a handful of nurses discussing in a corner. She shook her head and slowly followed the woman, not wanting to remain behind. It didn't take long before they came across the one person Miranda was apparently searching for.

"M- Mother Miranda," Salvatore's voice came in an oddly high pitch, at least for him, when he almost crashed with her in his hurry to get somewhere.

"Moreau," Miranda greeted with a nod and unreadable expression. "I need the documents on each of your patients and where they're staying." Straight to business apparently.

He simply nodded and moved his attention to one of the nurses standing nearby, instructing him to finish whatever task he was supposed to before their arrival. The man moved rigidly, painfully aware of Miranda's presence. Then, Moreau led them to his office, starting to pull out a consistent number of files from a large bookcase.

His office was, unsurprisingly, a mess aside from the one place he held the documents keeping track of all his current patients, complete with a few books and office supplies haphazardly placed on the desk. A few spare white coats were hanging just by the door, together with a long and worn leather jacket that he often times wore when outside the building. A familiar string of bones was also peeking from one of its pockets, nowadays worn as a necklace since, after the effects of his mutation were lessened, he found the crown quite unsightly.

"Are you coming by anytime soon," his voice came from behind, snapping her out of her exploration. "We could use a hand sometimes."

Nicole turned to give him a polite smile. "I may, but I have some things to get out of the way for now."

A glance in Miranda's direction revealed the woman hunched over the documents on the desk, writing down a list with the aid of whatever she was reading. They could do some small talk for the time being.

"How have you been," Nicole asked, turning to him again.

She and Salvatore were on quite friendly terms ever since she started occasionally helping out in the hospital that he was in charge of. Not that they had much time to ever hang out, but the few times they did, it's always been a pleasant interaction among colleagues.

"Some days are better than others," he responded with half a shrug.

Judging by the deep purplish circles under his eyes, today wasn't particularly stellar. He was slightly hunched, whether it was out of habit from a time when sitting straight was quite impossible or from tiredness, she couldn't tell.

"Any news from the castle?" He asked with a chuckle. He was rarely welcomed in Alcina's home so the curiosity wasn't unwarranted.

Nicole shrugged. "Same old same old. Bleeding out prisoners, stopping Daniela from breaking vases and all that boring pseudo nobility stuff."

He let out a quiet laugh. "Nobility? Should I start calling you my lady?"

Nicole snorthed, giving his shoulder a small shove that didn't make him move in the slightest.

Their joking banter was interrupted by Miranda all but shoving her way in between them and out the door, calling for her to follow. With a small wave, Nicole was quickly after her, falling in step just slightly behind the other woman. Though it was a small building after all, so it didn't take long to reach the first door on Miranda's list.

"I want you to tell me exactly what you feel," she flatly told Nicole while pushing the door open.

She frowned, eyes slightly narrowed in confusion and glued to Miranda's back as she stepped inside the small room after the woman.

Any incredulous question died on her tongue when she seemed to be yanked back in time, to the yearly family trips her father insisted they all go on. It was to a relative, or family friend, Nicole couldn't quite recall, who owned an old cabin near a lake. Problem was, the lake was always murky and full of algae, the water gaining an unpleasant scent under the August sun. She and Alex never tried swimming.

"Well?" Mirada raised an eyebrow, impatient.

Nicole scrunched up her nose, both wanting and desperately trying not to take a deeper breath. "Pond water? The kind of water that's stagnant and muddy in summer, full of dead fish and weeds."

She tried not to fidget, her mind running a thousand miles an hour. The so-called goddess seeming completely uninterested in shedding light on what the hell they were doing was not of much help either. A frustrated sigh threatened to escape when another person spoke up.

"Doctor?" A meek voice came from the only bed in the room, from a young woman who seemed asleep when they had walked in. She looked between the two of them confused and with squinted eyes.

Miranda simply raised a hand, not even sparing the girl a glance. "Pay us no mind, we're only here to check on something. We'll be on our way in a moment."

Nicole couldn't help the confused look she threw the girl's way. Was she not recognizing the woman this whole town worshipped? An amused snort almost escaped her but she knew better. Besides, who could really blame her? Mirada was wearing an oversized lab coat, blonde hair held back in a ponytail and there was no trace of the makeup that usually accompanied her ceremonial robes and mask.

Not that Nicole had time to appreciate the odd humanity of Miranda's outfit, as the woman turned on her heels and exited the room as soon as she was done writing. She was starting to grow annoyed with the uncooperative and know-it-all attitude, but decided against voicing any opinions and settled for following along to the next door.

It kept on being a rinse and repeat of the first room, only variables being the patients inside and her answers. Sometimes the change wasn't too obvious, maybe just a more metallic undertone or a new faint smell latching onto her senses, like the sickly sweet aroma of honey. A handful of times though she had to all but slap a hand over her face to not be overwhelmed by the enveloping stench. One room in particular made her almost stumbled backwards and out the door, when a strong metallic smell contrasting the accompanying one of decomposition hit her like a slap in the face. The man inside, who was evidently not doing particularly well, didn't seem appreciative of the apparently crazy woman coming in and rudely interrupting his rest.

Nicole didn't look forward to lingering around by that point, but there was one more room to check.

They pushed open the door, and the familiar stinging scent of decay immediately overtook her senses, seeming to latch on to the very inside of her throat. A small rivulet of blood also started dripping down her face, and Nicole quickly pulled out a paper tissue from her pants pocket to press against her nostrils. It was both to stop the bleeding and to shield her senses from the smell.

Once outside, Nicole was trying to catch her breath while Miranda was simply writing something down. Another set of steps approached them, who turned out to be Moreau coming to check on their findings. Upon being given the clipboard to read -he could actually decipher her chicken scratch, really?- he let out a curious hum.

"I need to go over John Abbott's file and compare them," Miranda started, clicking her pen and putting it back into her pocket. "I'll send an assistant after it later." Then she looked her way and waved a hand dismissively. "You're free to go, I'll send Emma after you when you're needed."

Nicole blinked, dumbfounded, her voice coming out harsher than she probably should've allowed it to be. "That's all? What did you find?"

The exasperated edge in her voice did not go unnoticed nor was it appreciated. Miranda rolled her eyes slightly and gave her an answer. "You can distinguish illnesses by smell. We'll do a more comprehensive test and list, but for now we have enough to say that's how the Mold manifested with you," Miranda explained, half turned away and ready to leave.

And she did turn to leave as soon as she was finished. With a nod towards Salvatore, she made her way back down the hospital corridor and presumably towards the passageway that led back to her lab.

Nicole wasn't particularly keen on going down there again if she could help it, so she instead stuck by Salvatore's side as they walked back to his office.

That day wasn't the first time Nicole had entered that room, so the fact that it also served as some kind of archive did not go past her. The office itself was decently sized, and even had a storage room attached to it with the sole purpose of keeping old files that may be important but Miranda didn't need at hand. Although, in all honesty, Salvatore wasn't particularly skilled in keeping everything organized. That's what my secretary is for, he would say, ignoring the fact that Miranda would gut anyone who touched those documents if they weren't part of the small group of people she deemed worthy. Therefore, the files were a mess, the only saving grace being that he at least had the foresight of organizing them by decade.

With a sigh, he started looking through the binders all but stuffed on one of the many shelves. Nicole sat down at his desk, occupying herself with a crayon that she started twisting around her fingers absent mindedly. There was some semblance of relief in finally figuring out what had so cruelly changed in her body, and what an ironic twist of fate said change was. To have spent years pouring over books learning about the illnesses that now were recognizable by something as simple as an acidic smell of blood. On the other hand though, the knowledge that Miranda had a tendency to find some kind of use for all her experiments left a sensation of dread slowly making its way into the deepest crannies of her chest, where a certain parasite had burrowed and made a nest for itself.

"Mind if I call the castle, I don't really feel like walking all the way back," she asked, eyes settling on the phone pushed to the side by a couple books and scattered pens.

"Sure," he responded without moving from where he was pulling out papers, only to shove them back inside their folders when they weren't the correct ones.

Her hands hovered over the keys for a moment. She wasn't about to call Alcina's personal phone to ask for a ride, heavens no. The phone in Carolina's study, where the Constable would spend her time when not in the stables, would be the best choice if only she could remember the number from memory. Nicole decided that the one in the main hall was the best next thing, where one of the guards at the entrance would probably hear the ringing and answer.

She dialed the number and listened to the typical ringing sound once, twice, until she thought nobody was actually around, but at last, a voice came from the other end.

"Alo?"

Nicole took a moment to recognize the voice as Dalia's, the head chambermaid.

"Hey, it's Nicole," she started toying with the pencil again. "I'm at the hospital, can you send Carolina with a horse to pick me up?" She sensed the slight hesitation on the other woman's side and thought to clarify. "I'm not injured, just with Moreau."

She heard a slight exhale from the other end of the line and had to entertain the thought of whether the woman was relieved due to genuine concern for her wellbeing, or she was well aware of how irritable her wife could be. Her being injured definitely made its way on the list of things that would bring out the anger and cruelty carefully crafted over almost a century.

Before hanging up the phone, she sighed and thought better of her request. "Actually, tell Cassandra to come."

She could almost feel the slight grimace from Dalia at being asked to go talk to the most sadist of the sisters, and with a request no less. Oh well, there's to hoping that Cassandra wouldn't be too peeved at said request coming from her wife.

She hung up after hearing an of course, my lady.

With a way to get back home without having to do the trek on foot assured, she leaned back in the chair, watching Salvatore continue on his search. He was standing with his hands on his hips, eyebrows pulled into a frown that slightly wrinkled the already rough skin of his forehead. He looked almost as if he resorted to glaring at the piles of papers, hoping that enough intimidation would scare the right file into jumping into his hands.

It almost made Nicole snort, were it not for the curiosity that both acted as a distraction and pleaded to get some more answers. "So, who's this… Jack Abbott?"

"John Abbott," he corrected without tearing his eyes from the shelf in front of him. He grimaced then. "He was one of Mother Miranda's earlier experiments, and had a very similar mutation to yours."

At that Nicole's eyebrows shot up past the low line of her fringe, interest successfully piqued. She turned in her seat to fully face him, one arm thrown over the back of the chair. When he didn't continue talking, instead pulling out one of the last binders on the shelf labeled 1930's, she impatiently prodded for more information. "And?"

Moreau pulled a face, probably wondering if he was even supposed to talk about it. It didn't take long for him to let out a defeated sigh, the demand to play dumb were Miranda to ever ask about this going unspoken, but more than understood. "Same thing as you really. He could tell what illness someone had by a specific smell, down to the nasty nose bleeds whenever it got too much," he started, noticing a few drops of blood that had dried on her upper lip.

He turned back to pulling out the very last binder dedicated to that decade and relaxed his posture ever so slightly when he saw JOHN ABBOTT written in big letters and black ink on one file. Another frown tugged his cracked lips downward, the information written in such a clinical way only mudding the memory of the frail man he had briefly met so many decades ago. "His body took well to the Cadou until… well ,until it didn't. I don't know what went wrong, but his body just rejected it at one point and he died being slowly consumed by the infection."

At that Nicole's face fell, dread now overtaking her usual curiosity. He must've noticed, for his next words came the slightest bit rushed and with a strained kind of reassurance that wasn't convincing to either of them.

"It may very well not be connected."

Nicole almost scoffed, not at him but at the situation at hand. The hand holding the pencil was tense and, had she not been as weak as she was, the wood would've probably cracked by then. "Did you know him?"

With a slight shake of his head, he answered, not a negation but more a gesture of pity. "Barely. I was brought here only after he started," he narrowed his eyes at a wall somewhere behind Nicole trying to find the right word. He didn't. "...deteriorating."

That was about as much as her brain wanted to know at the moment, letting a heavy silence fill the space for endlessly too long. She was caught in her own thoughts that started to twist and turn into countless what ifs. Thoughts that crashed to a halt when a nurse knocked on the half open door to announce her presence.

"Lady Cassandra is waiting outside," she told Nicole, expression pulled in a poker face that could only belong to someone who had to deal with her wife and tried to seem unbothered. Tried and failed.

Nicole sprung to her feet, circling the desk and about to make her exit when he called out. "Take care of yourself," Moreau told her, looking up from the papers he was reading.

Her lips turned slightly upwards into a smile. "You too." And then she left, rapid pace taking her through off-white hallways and slight smells that she was now painfully aware of.

Stepping outside was a breath of fresh air in more ways than one, the orange hue of the setting sun welcoming her after the hours passed under the harsh lab lights. How ironic was her hatred for the damned neon lights, when not too long ago she would've gladly spent her life under their bluish glow.

Even better than the warm sun on her skin, was the sight of Cassandra, dressed in her usual riding attire and absent mindedly scratching the furry muzzle of one of the castle's Clydesdale horses. A big beast of a horse, black and white with its feathery legs that, Nicole realized with an eye roll, she wouldn't dream of getting on without help.

Her pace quickened until she found herself embraced by a pair of strong arms, the stable smell mixed with Cassandra's cologne filling her senses with something finally pleasant. She didn't let go until she felt a gentle kiss placed on top of her auburn hair.

"Darling," Cassandra greeted her once she pulled back, gloved hand coming to rest on a pale cheek. "How are you?"

Nicole sighed and pushed into the touch, the kind of tiredness that could only be felt after a day spent bending over backwards to every one of Miranda's whims settling into her bones. "Ready to go back home."

Cassandra simply nodded once and moved her hands on her hips, getting a good enough grip before picking Nicole up to where her foot could reach the stirrup so she could pull herself up. Her wife decided that climbing in the saddle was below her at the moment, choosing instead to turn into a swarm, only to retake her human form a mere second later, on the horse's back, her front comfortably against Nicole's back. With a few taps of her boot against the stirrup still occupied by Nicole's foot in a silent demand to let her guide the horse, she took a hold of the reins and they finally started moving down the stone paved road.

There was no complaint on Nicole's part, taking it as a good opportunity to sit back and enjoy the ride, pressed to her wife's chest.

A few eternally long minutes were spent absentmindedly scratching the horse's muscular neck, where short black fur met the mane held in a beautifully done french braid, that only their Constable could pull so seamlessly. A few long minutes spent mulling over what she had found out, thoughts twisting cruelly with every worst case scenario her mind could conjure. Had she made a mistake? Was the infection a mistake to begin with? How cruel could fate be sometimes. Back in New York she had come to terms with a meaningless life, the only truly important thing she had amounted to at that point being choosing a career path to spite her father. But now, after finding a place to call home where she ached to stay to the point of seeking eternity for it, the very thing that could allow her to remain there forever could also take her life away, miserably so.

"What's wrong?"

Cassandra's voice snapped her back to reality, so much so that she even shook her head a couple times to chase away the lingering thoughts. She gave an inquisitive hum in an attempt to play dumb. The attempt was met with an incredulous eye roll.

"You're quiet," she simply responded.

"I'd think spending decades with Daniela would make you appreciate quiet people," Nicole jokingly threw back.

"Not you," came the reply, one hand leaving the reins and coming to rest on her thigh. "I love hearing you talk, even when you're blabbering about proper medical technique."

At that Nicole let out a light gasp, turning around with mild offence written in her eyes. She couldn't find anything to retaliate with for once, setting instead for giving her wife a slight shove with her elbow, that only elicited a laugh.

She shook her head and let out a sigh. "We did figure out what's with the damned nosebleeds." At a curious hum and Cassandra's chin coming to rest on top of her head, she went on. "Apparently I can distinguish illnesses by smell. Now that would've been useful during med school," she finished with a bitter laugh.

Her wife responded with a snort. "If I were Daniela, I'd say you're joking to hide how you really feel." She shrugged. "However I'm not her, and I'm assuming you'll simply tell me without the need of an impromptu psychoanalysis," she said almost smugly, the hand that was until then lazily placed on her leg finding its place around her waist.

The times when Nicole wished to curse her wife's apparently impeccable observation skills were rare, but this was one such occasion.

She almost let out a groan, pushing further back into Cassandra's form. "There was this other man, John Abbott, with the same mutation. Except his body rejected the Cadou and he died slowly and painfully," she explained, her voice quieting halfway through, but almost flinched when the arm around her went stiff with an almost vice-like grip. The realization of how long Cassandra has really been in the Village for slowly crept its way from Nicole's memory, having been filed away and almost forgotten in a metaphorical drawer of obvious things that however were rarely brought up. "Did you know him-"

"You won't end up like that sorry bastard."

The conviction behind that one simple sentence almost had Nicole letting out another short bitter laugh. Not out of bemusement of course. Irony perhaps, at how determined her wife was to double down on cheating death, not only for herself but her too. Even when death could be brought by the very thing keeping them alive.

"Not much we could do about that," she said in a small voice, one hand toying with the black fabric of Cassandra's sleeve.

"Don't think for one moment that I'm joking," she started, an edge of a warning behind her tone. Her hand came to rest more gently on the bottom of Nicole's sternum, where the skin had healed in a dark scar that seemed to send jagged cracks all the way to her stomach. "I'll pull the wretched little thing out of your chest myself if I have to."

At that Nicole actually let out a laugh. "Way to go with something morbidly romantic."

Cassandra chuckled close to her ear, bending down slightly to leave a peck where her neck and shoulder met. "You're not going to die. I won't allow it."

A silent possessiveness accompanied her words. An implication that she now belonged there, in her arms, and frivolous things such as death had no place to come between them. She should flinch at such implications, were it not for the fact that it was mutual and Cassandra knew better than to recklessly throw herself on death's path, knowing well that soon her wife would follow in her steps.

The soft kiss was returned when Nicole bent back again, until the angle between their bodies allowed for their lips to meet tenderly, in a way that anyone would believe was so utterly uncharacteristic to the both of them, ruthless in their own ways but soft like velvet running on smooth skin with each other.

They rode in comfortable silence up until the gates to the stable, where they dismounted and handed the reins to one of the servants waiting there. The sun had set by then, purple and dark blues reigning the skies as they entered the castle through one of the secondary doors.

She parted ways with her wife, saying that she would soon join the rest of their family as she headed up the stairs. A change of clothes was due. That and a request to their seamstress.

Oh her way back down, she stopped by the open door to the woman’s studio, busy with readjusting some garments for one of the ladies. A curt knock on the wooden frame of the entrance got her attention and had her pulling a face upon realizing that she had probably lost count of whatever she was mentally keeping track of. Nonetheless, she offered a polite smile when greeting Nicole.

“My lady, what can I do for you?”

“I need a facemask,” Nicole started.

The woman’s eyebrows pulled in a confused frown. “I thought a new batch of surgical masks just arrived the other day.”

Nicole raised a hand when she went to check on the shipments list. “I meant something I can wear for longer and outside the lab, surgical masks have a tendency to clash with an elegant gown, you know,” she explained with a chuckle. “Preferably that can filter out any smells?”

“Oh. Of course, I’ll just need to take your measures to make sure it’s fitted for you.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow,” she proposed and, after the seamstress gave her an hour, she continued on her way down the hallway to where the rest of the Dimitrescus were gathered.

Being home brought some peace of mind, thoughts of dying and being forcefully ripped away from her life momentarily placated in favor of enjoying a few hours by the fireplace with her family. Leaning against Cassandra as she draped an arm around her shoulders and listening to Daniela and Bela have a hilariously heated debate over the latest book they've read felt downright blissful in its mundane aspect.

Although no matter what, the little parasite that now called the inside of her chest its home, was quietly gnawing at her worried mind.

[qitwrites]

⬅ Previous || 20 || Next ➡

Kirishima stays behind in the gym most evenings. This is not news to anyone, nor is it uncommon.

He usually outstays everyone actually. His stamina seems to be endless, and his quirk relies on his physical health and his ability to increase and extend his limits. So, Kirishima stays, and he trains, and he smiles the whole time. He pumps iron like a madman but makes sure to stay (barely) within his limits.

Tokoyami is aware of Kirishima’s gym habits, so he isn’t surprised when he backtracks one day to pick up a towel he’d left on one of the stands, only to find Kirishima in the room even though it’s late evening. It isn’t anything worth noting.

What is weird though is seeing him sitting cross-legged on the floor, right in front of the floor to ceiling mirrors, his face almost glued to his reflection. He’s leaning with his hands on his knees, and Tokoyami’s sure his forehead is touching the mirror.

The red head just stares at his reflection, and Tokoyami realizes that Kirishima is so absorbed in whatever it is that he’s doing that he doesn’t even realize the beaked hero is in the room. Tokoyami cocks his head to the side and decides to wait a minute before making his presence known.

Moments later, Kirishima hardens himself. More specifically, he hardens himself from the neck up, his arms and legs still soft and unchanged. It’s still nothing too out of the ordinary, except the face-plastered-to-the-mirror-while-on-the-floor bit.

7 seconds later, Kirishima takes a deep breath and grunts, hardening further. Layers and layers of hardening stack up like a deck of cards, and Tokoyami swallows back a chirp of amazement as he witnesses Kirishima go into Unbreakable form, his face and neck jagged and sharp. It’s mesmerizing almost, his diamond like appearance, the way it makes the vertebrae on the back of his neck jut out like a protective armor, the way even his hair hardens, though he’s left it in a pony right now.

And his eyes. Kirishima’s eyes look fierce, fiery, and so menacing. Tokoyami watches him in awe.

Kirishima continues to stay on the floor, staring at his reflection in Unbreakable. Reading his expressions might be difficult when his face is literally like a slab of well sculpted marble, not soft or malleable enough to form expressions and convey emotions, but Tokoyami can tell he’s furrowing his brow. He can see the frustration dancing in his brown-red eyes, and a few more seconds later Kirishima drops his quirk entirely. His vertebrae melt back into his neck, his cheeks are soft and fluffy, his hair puffy, and his eyes-

Sad. Thoughtful. Frustrated.

Tokoyami clears his throat. ‘Excuse me.’

Kirishima whips his head around with a surprised look on his face. He breaks into a grin when he sees Tokoyami.

‘What’s up man?’

Tokoyami points at the stands near Kirishima, slowly making his way towards it. ‘I seem to have left my towel here, I wish to pick it up so I may wash it before our next sessions.’

Kirishima looks at the stand and nods in understanding. ‘Gotcha! Please go ahead.’ He gives him a thumbs up.

Tokoyami picks up the familiar black towel with its deep purple border. The material is familiar and deceptively soft, and it smells like him. He hugs it to his chest and takes a step back before turning to look at Kirishima. The redhead catches his stare in the mirror and looks up, throwing him a quizzical smile.

‘Pardon the intrusion,’ Tokoyami starts softly, fidgeting with the towel. ‘I happened to walk in while you engaged your quirk, and I am unable to understand your intentions.’

Kirishima’s face pales instantly. ‘Oh shit, you saw that? I swear, I’m not using my quirk for anything weird, I know we aren’t supposed to use it outside of hero stuff yet but please don’t tell anyone, I really don-‘

‘Ah, you misunderstand,’ Tokoyami interrupts. ‘I do not believe you’re doing anything improper or unsafe. I merely wish to inquire about your intentions as I could not decipher them for myself. That is, of course, if you wish to speak about it. With me. If not, I understand completely and will gladly drop the subject.’

Kirishima immediately deflates with a relieved sigh. He looks away from Tokoyami and watches his own face in the mirror. Tokoyami moves his gaze to Kirishima’s face, and they look at each other through the reflective surface. Kirishima gives him a small smile, tentative and uncertain and very un-Kirishima like.

‘I don’t like talking about it cause it sounds super dumb but it’s not like I don’t want to talk about it. Um. Just. Don’t laugh? I guess?’

Tokoyami nods. ‘I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I am honored that you would trust me enough to open up about whatever it is that seems to plague your mind.’

Kirishima laughs softly. ‘I don’t think it’s anything quite so dramatic. It’s just, I’ve been doing some quirk training, I guess? Not the kind I can do during our Hero course though. This is more personal?’

Tokoyami nods in understanding, silently urging him to continue.

‘I’ve read so many things about my Unbreakable form. Most people love it. And I love it! I mean, it’s definitely a work in progress, and I know I can develop it more and get better and stronger and everything, but it’s a good move for sure. So, like, I know we all get our criticisms about our quirks, that’s normal and that’s ok.’

Kirishima clenches the fists in his lap, eyes dropping down to watch them. ‘I’ve read that my Unbreakable form is scary. Ugly. Menacing. Frightening.’ He purses his lips. ‘I don’t think those are bad things, not at all. And I don’t really mind what it looks like, it gets the job done!’

Kirishima looks back up, twisting to catch Tokoyami’s eyes with his own, omitting the mirror altogether. ‘But I wonder if my face is too scary for the kids, you know? And when I’m in the middle of a rescue in the future, I don’t want to add to their stress. I don’t want to scare them anymore than they already probably will be. But I can’t really drop Unbreakable all the time either.’

Tokoyami nods again, understanding Kirishima’s problems and feeling it ache in his core.

‘So, I wondered if there’s any way for me to make Unbreakable just a little more humane while preserving its functionality. I was thinking about softening just my eyes, so they’re not quite so jagged and scary.’

Kirishima’s eyes move back to the mirror, and he punches his thigh roughly, mouth twisting into a grimace. ‘Fine control over small portions of my body is hard though. I have a tough enough time maintaining Unbreakable on its own. To fine tune that even more seems impossible. And like, I’m not even sure it’ll work. I don’t know. I don’t have any idea what I’m doing Tokoyami. Not a damned clue.’

Tokoyami trills in thought, his hand moving up to support his chin.

‘While I do not wish to move the subject away from you, I would like to convey my empathy for I too face similar challenges.’ He gently prods Dark Shadow from within before continuing, ‘I do not have a conventional appearance. I do not look scary either, but Dark Shadow is, I have been told, a formidable presence.’

Dark Shadow peeks over Tokoyami’s shoulder and waves enthusiastically at Kirishima. The redhead breaks into a huge grin and returns the gesture with gusto, more than used to Dark Shadow’s appearance and antics. He really likes the guy.

‘I appreciate that our classmates have gotten used to us, and to him, but I also question how many civilians would like to be rescued by an individual with an ability like mine. I too would not like to add to their distress.’

Kirishima nods in understanding, the look in his eyes softening immeasurably.

‘I am unsure of how to help, but I would be happy to provide you with any moral support or even some simple company while you embark on this quest.’

Kirishima pats the spot next to him. ‘Sure thing Tokoyami, I really appreciate it man!’

Tokoyami nods and takes a seat on the floor. The two boys move to face each other, and Tokoyami spends the next half hour watching Kirishima engage his quirk, engage Unbreakable, and then struggle to soften his eyes.

He watches as Kirishima softens a cheek instead sometimes, watches as his forehead ripples uncertainly, watches his neck pulse with his quirk, and watches as his eyes sometimes go soft and warm. He encourages the best he can, celebrating the victories and pushing Kirishima to try once more when he fails. They burst into laughter more often than not, and it’s honestly a lot of fun.

Even Dark Shadow hangs around, somehow procuring pom-poms to celebrate and cheer.

When Kirishima finally calls it an evening, they get to their feet and start heading to the dorms.

‘If you require company, please do not hesitate to approach me. If I am able, it would be an honor to cheer you on and watch you succeed in this endeavor.’

Kirishima places a large, warm hand on his shoulder and squeezes. ‘I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this Tokoyami! I don’t practice it every day, but I’ll shoot you a text whenever I get the time to practice, and we can try to coordinate and make it work!’ He gives him his big sunshine smile. ‘Thank you for talking to me about it by the way, I really do feel a lot better.’

Tokoyami gives him another nod, and the boys walk back, enjoying the evening breeze and some light banter.

In the following weeks, Tokoyami and Kirishima swap messages and meet a lot more often. Tokoyami keeps tabs of his progress and gently pushes him to do better, and Kirishima laughs around with Dark Shadow when they take breaks. Sometimes they meet, decide they’re too lazy to quirk train and just watch old horror movies that leave Kirishima hiding behind Dark Shadow instead. Sometimes they listen to alt rock or do bicep curls. It’s a refreshing change of pace for both of them.

All their training does pay off though, sooner than they could’ve anticipated.

Aizawa brings Eri with him to hero training one day, and the young girl sits on a chair out of the way, watching with wide, amazed eyes. Aizawa stays close to her, watching over training with keen, knowing eyes. When he sees Kirishima doing some resistance training in Unbreakable form, he thinks of some pointers.

‘Riot!’

The redhead whips around to look at his teacher. Aizawa makes a come over here gesture with his hand, and Kirishima drops his quirk as he starts walking.

‘Come over here with your quirk engaged,’ Aizawa says. ‘You need to keep working on how long you can maintain your Unbreakable form, so don’t drop it right now.’

Immediately Kirishima engages his quirk and walks over to Aizawa, and every step is filled with the sharp sound of friction. Tokoyami watches as they talk, and he sees Eri looking at Red Riot with big wonderous eyes.

When they’re done chatting, Kirishima looks over at Eri. She flinches slightly, though no one can blame that on Kirishima’s appearance- Eri still flinches with most people.

Still, Tokoyami watches as Kirishima gets on his knees in front of her, still in Unbreakable form, and he sees Kirishima soften his eyes. They become liquid ruby, and he can feel the warmth almost from halfway across the gym.

He can’t hear what they say, but he sees Eri smile bright and even giggle, and he sees Aizawa appraising the situation with raised brows and an impressed sort of half smile.

Tokoyami gives Kirishima a pat on the back in his mind and bumps fists with Dark Shadow.

They all definitely have to celebrate later with some old horror movies and popcorn.

[jeo9n]

Majesty Pt 6 || JJK

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre : Slow burn,Angst,fluff,virgin reader,King JK, future smut.

Warnings : none for this chapter

Wordcount : 3.2k

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A few days have passed since you got married to the King. Being married to him hasn’t really changed anything between you two. The only thing that has changed is, that you both now sleep in the same bed, but that was it. It’s still kind of weird to share a bed with a man, but as long as he doesn’t try anything on you, then it’s fine. He weirdly keeps on cuddling you in his sleep, almost possessively. But once he wakes up he acts like nothing ever happened, like he wasn’t just almost squeezing the air out of you, trying to keep you as close as possible.

You’re currently getting dressed for the day. You’re going to visit your mom today. You haven’t seen her since the wedding, and you miss her.

"That looks absolutely delicious." You tell Maria, when you arrived at the Kitchen.

"Thank you, miss. I actually baked those for you and your mom." She said, as she packed the freshly backed Croissants. "I hope your mom enjoys them." Handing them to you.

You look at her with a huge smile on your face. "That is so nice of you, Maria, thank you. Im sure my mom will love them." Maria has always been so nice to you ever since you arrived at the castle, and your thankful for that.

"Is the King coming with you, miss?"

"Oh no, I’m going alone. I wanna spend some alone time with my mother, and I’m sure, the King has other stuff to do. I don’t wanna be a burden to him." You tell her.

"I actually don’t have anything to do today." Someone suddenly spoke. You knew it was him though, without having to see his face. "I would love to come with you."

You turned around to face him. "You don’t have to come with me, your highness. I want to spend some time with my family alone. You can come with me another time though, if you want of course." You tell him, without trying to sound rude.

"I will come with you another time then." He tells you. "One of my chamberlains will bring you to the village though. It’s a long way, I don’t want you going alone."

You nod. Cause he’s right! it is a long way. It probably would take you a few hours to reach the village, if you walked.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You arrived at your old home, your mom already waiting for you outside. She hugs you tightly, telling you how much she has missed you. "It’s been only a few weeks, mom." You giggle. "You act like you haven’t seen me in years."

"Well, it feels like it. The house has been so quiet without you, Y/n, I miss having you around." She tells you - Her words making you feel sad. If you knew your mom would miss you so much, then you would’ve never left her, you would’ve never gotten married in the first place. You would’ve stayed with her. You had no problem with that. "But I’m happy that you finally got married, my dear. So, so happy! - Not only do you finally have a husband, he’s also a King! Do you know how jealous these mother’s are of me." She laughs, while you both walk inside.

The smell of your home instantly hits your nose. Making you feel even more sad. It feels like you’ve been away for so long. You wish, you could’ve spend a little more time at home than you’ve had. You would’ve loved to spend more a few more days with your mom, you would’ve loved to sleep in your own bed one more time, before having to leave, and moving into the castle.

All this thinking made you totally forget about the Croissants Maria gave you. "Here, one of the maids made some croissants for us." You say, handing the basket to your mother.

She takes to basket from you. "Oh how lovely of her." putting down the basket and getting a plate for the croissants.

"Her name is Maria! She’s really nice to me, I like her a lot." You answer, sitting down at the table, where you used to always eat with your mother. "She kinda reminds me of you"

She smiles at you, sitting down as well. "How’s your marriage going? - I know you haven’t been married for long, but is it going good?"

"It is going good! But we don’t really act like a married a couple - I don’t mind though, I like it that way." You tell her, as you take a bite of the croissant. "But I got really annoyed at him, a few days before we got married."

"Why, what did he do?"

"We were eating dinner and i wanted to put the dirty dishes away, once we were done eating. Because thats what you should do, right? But he suddenly stopped me, saying something like "I don’t have to do those things because I’m his wife, and the maids are there for that stuff." And that he would punish me if I kept doing that. But I didn’t care, I did it anyways. Because who the hell is he to tell me what to do?" You huff.

"I would’ve done exactly the same. What’s so bad about cleaning up? It doesn’t matter if has maids for that. If you wanted to help, that he should’ve let you." She says, shaking her head. "But, he didn’t really punish you for that, did he?" She asks, worriedly.

"He did. That fucker left me outside in the cold all night. At first I thought he was joking, i thought he would just leave me outside for a while, and eventually let me in. But he never opened the door for me. He really left me outside, all by myself." You tell her, rolling your eyes. It still makes you mad when you think about it.

"What?" She asks with wide eyes, not believing what you just said.

"Yea, and the next day he acted like nothing ever happened. He probably thinks I forgot about it, but I didn’t. I’ll get him back I just have to find the right time for it." You tell her, already planning your revenge.

She looks at you with worried eyes. "That probably won’t be a good idea, Y/n. - Him leaving you outside must’ve been a nice way of punishing you. I don’t want you to do anything, and get punished again." She tries to explain. "Promise me you won’t do anything, Y/n."

You understand her. She’s your mom, and she’s worried for you. But still, he left you outside for the whole night, cold and scared. You had to sleep on a bench, - well you tired to, at least - which gave you horrible back pain. You’ll get him back for it. You don’t care if you’ll get punished again. But you won’t tell her that. Instead, you look at her and smile, "I promise."

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

"Y/n, can you open the door for me please." Your mom calls out from bathroom.

"Of course." You were already on your way to open the door anyway.

You were met with bouquet of yellow roses once you opened the door. Your lips instantly turned into a smile, recognizing the two person behind it immediately. "Hello, Bambi." One of your Brothers greeted you, calling you by your nickname - which only your brothers called you by that name - moving the roses out of his face, so he could see you. "Or should I say, your majesty?" He joked, while finally giving you a hug, your oldest brother giving you one as well. You missed your brothers so much, so much that you could cry.

"Ah, can you believe our little Bambi is finally married." Your brother says to your other brother, while you three walk back into the living room. "And can you believe, none of you showed up to my wedding?" You say a little annoyed. You went to both of your their Weddings, and they didn’t even show up at yours. They missed the most special day of your life.

"We are so sorry, Y/n! But we were out of town, there was no way we could’ve made it to your wedding, even if we tried. It would’ve taken us so many hours to arrive at the kingdom, please forgive us!" your older brother explains to you.

You could tell he was saying the truth. Your brothers were good at anything, but lying wasn’t one of their strength. You couldn’t stay mad at them, not even if you tried, not when they were looking at you like this, with big puppy eyes, waiting for your forgiveness.

"I forgive you! But, I’m still sad you weren’t there. I was waiting for you two to show up all night."

"We’ll make it up to you! We promise!"

"I hope you guys do!" Your mom says, coming back from the bathroom. "How could you miss your little sisters special day!" She scolds them, slapping your oldest brother on the head, making you laugh.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Right now, you were on a walk through the village for a bit. Your mother stayed home with your brothers, making sure that they don’t eat all the food she had cooked.

You felt everyone watching you, either out of shock that you were back in the village, or out of jealousy. You knew these mothers and their daughters were glaring at you. Probably trying to curse you with their eyes on you.

You were just walking around, with no destination in mind. You just wanted to walk around for a bit. You haven’t really gotten the chance to really do anything, since you moved into the castle. You weren’t allowed to leave the castle by yourself, except for today. So you tried to enjoy it as much as you could. You had stopped by the small bakery you used to work at, buying some bread to feed the ducks by the small lake near by.

You were surrounded by ducks, they all came waddling towards you as soon as you took out the bread, eager to get some food. You were crouching down with the bread in your hand, trying to feed all of them equally, not wanting to left one out. "Hey! Your little friend right here wants some bread too." You scold the duck, as it tried to take the food out of your hand. But giving it some food anyway, feeling bad for scolding it.

You kept feeling eyes on you, following your every move. Everywhere you went, you felt like you were being watched. You thought you were imagining it, but you knew you weren’t, not when you heard something behind you. You didn’t know where it came from. You were alone at the lake, or at least you thought. Knowing that someone could be watching you got you scared. You left the lake and walked back home, you didn’t want to risk anything, who knows what could happen if you stayed. You didn’t know who could watching you, if someone was even watching you.

You walked home faster than you had ever done. You were paranoid, turning around everytime you heard something. You knew you were overthinking it, making it worse than it probably was. There probably wasn’t even someone watching you, your were just imagining things. The people probably thought you were crazy, as you passed by them, almost running. You wanted to get home as soon as possible, you didn’t care if they looked at you weird.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

"Y/n, what is wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost." Your mother asks, as she opened the door for you.

You got inside quickly, not wanting to spend another minute outside. "I-I think someone was watching me, mom."

"I was at the lake near the bakery, no one was there except for me, but I could feel someone watching me. I felt their eyes on me all the way home."

A worried look crossed her face. "Are you sure? Maybe your mind was just playing some tricks on you, Y/n"

"I am sure! I heard movement behind me, I was alone mom, and it wasn’t the ducks. Someone was definitely spying on me." You tell her, your voice shaking.

"Well, if that’s the case, than you probably shouldn’t go out by yourself again!" She says, holding you, trying to calm you down.

"Yea... but why would someone spy on me? Im just a ordinary girl, there’s nothing special about me.

"Y/n, my dear. Your not an ordinary girl, your married to the King! There’s a lot of people that envy you. Of course someone would be watching you, but still, don’t go out alone again." Your mom tells you.

She’s right! Your married to the King, you can’t just walk around like you used to. There are a lot of jealous and evil people out there, who knows what they would do.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Your mother told you, that you should go back to the castle. Saying that it might be dangerous for you, if you stayed in the village.

The chamberlain came a little later and picked you up. Bringing you back to the castle.

It was already kinda late when you got back to the castle. You were a little tired, but you didn’t wanna go to bed yet. Right now, you were sitting on one of the washing machines, talking to Maria while she did the laundry. "My mom said thank you, for the croissants. She really liked them."

"Ah that makes me happy!" She says, putting the King’s dirty laundry in the washer. "I will bake you some more, the next time you visit your mother."

You smile at her. "No, no. You don’t have to do anything. This time my mom will make some for you."

She giggles, putting the clean clothes into a basket. "Why did you come home alone? I thought you went with the King?" Maria asks, confused.

"No, I went alone," you furrow your eyebrows. "The King did not come with me." Shaking your head.

She picks up the basket and looks at you. "Oh! Really? He left quickly after you, so I thought you two went together." She looks confused. "No, wait. He went to visit the neighborhood kingdom! I totally forgot about it." She says quickly, correcting herself. "Ah, im getting old."

"You’re not old Maria, you just got some things mixed up. That happens to me too sometimes." You assure her, as you both walk towards the Kings dressing room.

She makes sure his clean clothes are put away perfectly, checking everything once again, making sure that none of his clothes have any wrinkles on them. "Your too nice to me." Shes says as leaves the room.

The King arrived at the castle the same time you walked down the stairs. "Oh, you’re back already?" He looks at you, as you now stand in front of him.

He looks kinda shocked to see you back at the castle already. "Yea, my mother called the chamberlain to come pick me up earlier." You answer.

He’s confused. You told him that you would come a home little later, and why did your mom call the chamberlain to pick you up? "Is everything okay?"

He looks at you worried, but he looked away before you could catch it. "I’m fine, Your highness!" You tell him, you didn’t tell him that your were being watched earlier, because your not even completely sure if you were being watched.

"You’re lying." He noticed right away, shit.

You don’t look at him, how can he tell so easily if your lying to him? "Im not lying, your highness! Everything is fine." Walking towards the garden, he follows you.

He shakes his at you, not understanding why you’re lying to him. "You’re a terrible liar, Y/n. Tell me what’s wrong." Catching up to you.

You turn around to look at him, this time seeing the worried look on his face. "I think someone was following me, back in the village. I went out for a walk and I felt someone watching me the whole time! I did not see anyone, but someone was definitely there!" You huff, crossing your arms in front of your chest protectively.

His face suddenly turned serious. "Are you serious? - I knew it wasn’t a good idea to let you go alone!" He says in an angry voice. "You’re not allowed to visit the village again! - not without me."

Fuck, he’s angry. You didn’t mean to make him angry, if you knew that’s how he would react, then you wouldn’t have told him. "I understand your worry, your highness, but I can look after myself. You don’t have to come with me. I won’t go out alone again, I make sure it won’t happen again."

He furrows his eyebrows at you. "Stop fucking acting like this, stop acting like you’re a big girl that can protect herself, Y/n. Cause you clearly can’t!" Now raising his voice at you. "If I say you’re not allowed to leave the castle alone again, then you should fucking listen!"

His sudden outburst scared you a bit, you were not expecting that. But you won’t show it. "And how would you be able to protect me?" You ask him, raising you voice back at him.

"You have no idea, Y/n" he says, calmly, too calmly.

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"You’ll see."

You still have no idea what he means by that. Does he mean he’ll fight them? Does he know how to fight? Probably not. He probably has people for that.

"Let’s go back inside. It’s cold." Grabbing your hand and dragging you inside.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You decided to take a bath. You need that after today. You couldn’t stop, thinking about today at the lake. You felt eyes on you, you could definitely feel it. You weren’t imagining it, but who would spy on you? Maybe it was the girls from the village, maybe they wanted to scare you, wanting to scare you, so you wouldn’t come back?

You didn’t want to think about it anymore. Quickly washing yourself to get rid of these thoughts. You got out of the bath and got dressed for bed. Your were tired after today, and all you wanted to do now was sleep.

You layed down next to the King, back facing him. You felt him move behind you, then out of nowhere he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you towards him. You gasped, not expecting him to do that. "I was serious earlier, when I said you weren’t allowed to go out alone anymore - you should know that, Y/n." He whispered into you ear, giving you goosebumps.

"I- I know that, your highness. I won’t do it gain." You tell him, trying to create some space between you two, but he just pulled you even closer.

He pressed his nose into your neck, inhaling your scent. "Good girl." Pressing a light kiss on your neck.

You shivered, the kiss giving you tingles. Never had a man done that to you, you didn’t know how that act.

"Now sleep."

And that’s exactly what you did. You did not notice how tired your were, you fell asleep almost instantly. Falling asleep in his arms for the first time since you two got married.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Taglist: @fangirl125reader @min-nicoleee @yzkyzkuniverse @safi4x @zoeshinelove

[joheunsaram]

To Make A Power Couple - 02 (knj)

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

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Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, fluff, eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut

-

Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger’s house.

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Every time he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash.

As he brushed his teeth today, however, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year.

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he didn’t need the tutoring anymore, he did enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would have been an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but every time he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he couldn’t imagine theirs.

Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head.

“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous!

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez! Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while he stared at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh… this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.

“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter.

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there,” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.

You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”

That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to do so.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it,” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.

After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.

“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.

“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first…” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.

“Namjoon… Namjoon… slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.

“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.

“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session.

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.

“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.

“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.

He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.

He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”

“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.

“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that.

In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

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[peachtree-dish]

A Te Che Sei Il Mío Grande Amore

Chapter 3: Senza che tu mi dica niente tutto si fa chiaro

Luglio 01, 1969

Luca’s birthday rolled around faster than anyone expected, the day arriving with clear skies and high temperatures. Luca awoke to his mother’s voice echoing through their home as she prepared breakfast. Stretching, the fifteen-year-old shook his nonna as gently as he could to wake her. She grumbled at his attempts and swatted at his claws.

“Nonna,” he sighed, shrugging with a smile and swimming into the kitchen to greet his parents. During his time in Porto Rosso, Luca enjoyed every moment he could swimming and spending as much time in the water since he couldn’t do as much in Genoa. He, along with Giulia and Signora Mia, had snuck to the shoreline in the early hours of the morning every few weeks or so just so Luca could refresh his scales and get the nutrients he needed. It was especially necessary when the temperature had become too cold and made him lethargic and ill. Luca shook his head softly, sending bubbles rippling above him in search of the surface. Signora Mia had been just as kind as Massimo, and just as headstrong in a lot of ways. He made a silent promise to call her with Giulia to make sure she was doing well, even if he were sure nothing could fell the infamous Mia Berni.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Daniella kissed Luca’s cheek and handed him a plate full of seaweed and fish flank on his way to the table. Returning the sentiment, the youth sat beside his father and informed his parents that grandma had decided to sleep in a little longer.

“Ugh, she does this every time. MA!” Daniella shouted in frustration, only to be startled by her own mother swimming around the corner.

“You’re being dramatic, dear. I only do it when I think it will annoy you.” The elderly sea monster smiled toothily at her disgruntled daughter who muttered, “Which is every day,” and finished setting the table.

“So, how does it feel to be another year older, son?” Lorenzo floated a piece of fish to his mouth and chewed animatedly, his gaze never leaving Luca’s. Luca shrugged in response and picked at the seafood drifting across the coral table.

“Not any different than last year, honestly. I still feel like I’m fourteen, so nothing special.” He slurped the seaweed into his mouth, much to his mother’s chagrin, and instantly missed the taste of pasta.

“Fifteen is a pretty big deal, though, you’re becoming a young man and that means changes and more responsibility.”

“I hardly think now is the time to discuss any of that at the table.” Luca’s grandmother scoffed before he could reply.

“What, it’s just the basics; Longer tail and fins, not to mention attracting the pretty lady gills, eh?” Lorenzo nudged Luca in the side who nearly choked on his food and spluttered white bubbles over the table, his scales flushing darkly.

“Lorenzo!” Danielle cried, her claws slapping the table in mortification.

“What? We were around his age when we met. If I remember correctly, you thought I was quite the catch.” He batted his eyes at her, pursing his lips teasingly.

“I was young and silly; I didn’t know any better.” Try as she might, Daniella couldn’t stop the smile that threatened to break her scowl. She busied herself by shredding the fish flank and wrapping it in seaweed. Undeterred, Lorenzo lifted from his chair and leaned in closer, trying to further fluster his wife.

“Yeah, maybe, but you still accepted my courting pearl after the Spring Swim Festival.” Lorenzo pulled a reluctant Daniella out of her chair and began to lead her around the room in spins and pivots, grinning madly as she shrieked with laughter. Luca watched with a mixture of amusement and confusion, his discomfort fading as he pushed the idea of ‘lady gills’ far from his mind. When he peered at his grandma, she appeared nonplussed and continued munching on her food although a genuine smile lifted her aging scales.

“You were skinnier and more handsome then, of course, she fell for you.” Lorenzo pouted at his mother-in-law and led both he and Daniella back to the table.

“I simply grew into my man body,” He emphasized his point by sticking his gut out even farther and patted it proudly. The table burst into laughter and Luca quickly finished eating after, his stomach nearly as full as his heart.

After he finished, he turned to his mother and asked, “Is it ok if I go visit Alberto and Giulia for the afternoon?”

Daniella conceded with a content nod, “Just don’t forget about our dinner tonight at Massimo’s, we don’t want you kids to be late.” Luca agreed cheerfully and kissed each family member on the cheek before swimming out the entrance.

“Hey!” Luca turned mid swim to see Daniella at the entrance. “I love you.”

“I love you too, ma!” Grinning, Luca took off, the water gliding past him as he made his way to the surface and his friends. As he leaped through the blue waves, he imagined he was like the superhero from the newspaper comics that Giulia and Mia both read. Pointing both fists forwards, Luca broke the surface with a whoop, water streaming behind him like a cape.

When he arrived at the Marcovaldo residence, the only beings there to greet them were Machiavelli and a few of his kits, each of whom wanted his attention and brief affection. Finding some of his spare clothes in the drawers of Alberto and Giulia's shared room, Luca quickly left the house and wandered the streets, eager to find his friends. Judging from the sun, he knew the morning fishing trip had come to an end not too long before which should mean Giulia, and Alberto was out delivering. Walking through the town square, Luca waved to a few of the patrons he recognized, mentally wincing as he remembered his first attempts at greeting Porto Rosso’s patrons. If anyone had been the stupidi, it had been them.

Chuckling as he went up the city’s hill, Luca caught sight of two familiar heads of curls along with two faces he was not expecting. Tensing at the sight of Guido and Ciccio, Luca prepared himself for a fight and made to run the rest of the way before he heard laughter. Guido was laughing at something Alberto had said and lightly touched his shoulder. Somehow, the movement was worse than if he had punched Alberto instead. A dark and ugly feeling reared its head within Luca’s belly, causing his face to burn and his hands to clench. Clenching his teeth, the young sea monster marched up the cobblestone pathways, intent on not showing his discomfort.

“Ciao,” he muttered shortly, arriving beside Alberto, and instantly causing Guido to lift his hand from Alberto’s shoulder. Giulia nodded hello from her seat on the bike as Alberto wrapped an arm around Luca’s shoulder.

“Oh, hey Luca,” Alberto cheered even more so upon seeing Luca. “You remember Guido and Ciccio, vero? I helped their families in the off-season while you were away.” Luca looked at the two teens who stood abashedly in front of him and offered his hand after a moment of hesitation.

“It’s good to see you both again,” Not, he thought as he shook the brunette’s hand. Ciccio spoke up, his round features coloring.

“We realize we never officially apologized to you before you left, si? We’re really sorry about last summer, Luca.”

“Si, Ciccio, and I were very foolish and ignoranti, we hope you can forgive us, and we can start again.” Guido smiled warmly, his gaze sincere. Taking a deep breath, Luca felt his earlier feeling of… whatever it was, fading away. If Alberto and Giulia both felt they could trust these boys again, then he could follow their lead.

“Lo apprezzo. I know being around Ercole wasn’t the easiest either, it’s all water under the bridge now anyway.” He smiled genuinely this time, heartened when the two ex-henchmen immediately relaxed.

“Bah, no lie, I’m so happy to be rid of that jerk,” Guido nodded at Ciccio who nodded and twisted his hands anxiously.

“He ate so much of my family’s bread,” Ciccio whispered horrified, his gaze wide. Giulia shared a weirded-out expression with Alberto who only shook his head.

“I didn’t know your family baked,” Luca interceded, ignoring his friends’ lack of subtlety Snapping back to the present, Ciccio grinned widely showing his perfectly white teeth.

“Oh, si, Pasticcini al sale Marino is the pride and joy of Porto Rosso and my family. Our baked goods bring customers from miles around; you should see the line of people who want to buy my mother’s Sfogliatella.” He leaned in conspiratorially to whisper, “My siblings and I have been helping since we were little, so only we know the recipe.” He puffed his round chest out proudly, only to be poked by both Alberto and Guido.

“Knowing a recipe and following it correctly are two different things, Ciccio. Your batter was not very good the last time you tried to make Bombolini.” Guido teased and Alberto nodded knowingly.

“I still don’t know how you mixed up salt and sugar,” the older sea monster screwed his face in disgust, remembering how the supposedly sweet treats and mistakenly been made with copious amounts of salt. “Seriously, Ciccio, even the ocean’s not as salty as those things were.” Ciccio pouted good-naturedly as the group laughed.

“It’s still not as bad as the time Guido set the auto garage on fire,” the blond argued mildly to which said boy grimaced.

“I thought we agreed to never speak of that again; I thought my papa was going to skin me alive.”

The teens chatted a bit more and Luca began to warm up to the two boys who had hurt him so much the past year. Perhaps, he reasoned, they had been good all along and had simply needed the chance to prove themselves.

Bidding Guido and Ciccio farewell, Luca joined Alberto and Giulia as they made the rounds. Luca asked a question that had been on his mind since arriving in Porto Rosso.

“So, whatever happened to Ercole? I haven’t seen him since we’ve been in town.” Alberto placed the cash from his previous sale into the leather pouch of the cart before answering.

“Honestly, the guy kind of disappeared after the race. I think he was embarrassed enough to keep his head low for a while, but other than that, I’m not sure. Maybe he left?” Giulia thought for a moment, her gaze focused on the road ahead.

“Maybe, I don’t think he went away to university, but he could have. His family is really wealthy, so they could afford it no matter the grades he got.”

Luca kicked a pebble, his thoughts skipping back to that one word: university.

“What’s the point of grades anyway, doesn’t that, like, stress you out more?” Alberto mused.

“It certainly does for me,” Giulia huffed. She bid Buongiorno to a young mother who bought the last of their fish and both Luca and Alberto filled the empty space as they headed back down the hill.

“I think it’s mostly competition, to see who really wants to be an academico or no,” she contemplated. “Sometimes if you have really good grades, the universities will pay you to study in their schools. That happened to mama when she moved to Genoa.” Alberto winced slightly at the mention of Giulia’s mother, the story of her separation from Massimo fresh in his memory.

“I wonder if I was good enough, they’d do that for me?” Luca hummed, his eyes following the drains that spread across each building they passed.

“Well, duh, they’d be stupid not to; you’re better than good enough right now,” Alberto bumped his shoulder with a smile. Luca blushed and tossed his friend a grin.

“Hey, happy birthday by the way. It’s about time you got to my age,” the older boy winked and wrapped his arm around Luca again, causing Luca’s skin to hum with energy.

“Oh, yeah! Are you excited for tonight?” Giulia asked over her shoulder.

“Thanks, you guys, really,” Luca felt warmer with Alberto’s arm around him, and he was sure it had nothing to do with the afternoon sun. He wondered briefly if said boy could feel how hard his heart was pounding. “Should I be excited, I thought we were just having dinner?” Luca asked, brow furrowing in confusion. He twisted around to face Giulia as she pulled into the plaza and made her way towards the small coastal home. Alberto lifted his arm when Luca turned away, causing him to feel its loss.

Giulia glanced at him and grinned excitedly. “Papa saved some fireworks from the Festa Della Repubblica since we were in Genoa, and he wants to set them off for tonight.” Luca gasped and jumped in his seat.

“Santa mozzarella! Are you serious?!” He shared an animated glance with Alberto who smiled as he hopped off the cart.

“Of course! I mentioned to him how much you had enjoyed the fireworks during Vigilia di Capodanno last December. He decided that would be his gift to you this year.” Giulia locked the bike and carried their bag of earnings inside, the two boys following after her.

Inside they found Massimo at his stove, his presence filling up the majority of the room. He turned to greet them as they entered, placing a kiss upon Giulia’s curly head.

“Buon cumpleanno, Luca. May you live to see many more,” Massimo rumbled fondly, patting Luca on his checkered shoulder. Luca returned the sentiment and wrapped a short hug around the large man, his arms too small to wrap fully around him.

“Grazie, Massimo. For your wishes and for your surprise gift,” Luca pulled away while Massimo smiled happily, his eyes disappearing behind his bushy eyebrows.

“Giulia,” Massimo chided lightly, turning to his daughter who was counting out money, “I thought we agreed to keep it a secret until after dinner?” Giulia smiled apologetically.

“Scusa, papa, we were just too excited,” She and Alberto began counting the coins on the table while Massimo ushered Luca over to the stove.

“Come, Luca, you will help me prepare dinner,” Massimo handed him a bag of clams and ordered him to wash them thoroughly in the sink. Luca would be the first to admit he was not a cook, but Massimo was gentle in his orders and easily guided Luca in making a perfect pasta dinner.

Once the Paguro family arrived along with Ciccio and Guido, once again to Luca’s surprise, the night was filled with much laughter and filling food. The linguine pasta alle vongole was instantly a hit and paired nicely with the red wine Ciccio had brought on behalf of his family. To the teens’ disappointment, the adults were adamant that they were still too young for alcohol. At one moment, Lorenzo laughed so hard, he inhaled his pasta and sent part of it into his nose much to the delight of the children. After dinner, the group trouped outside with fireworks and dessert in hand. While Massimo and Lorenzo set up the fireworks near the edge of the waterline, Daniella, Giulia, and Ciccio helped serve gelato and watermelon.

With a happy sigh, Alberto nestled himself into the sand alongside Luca, happily chewing on the red-fleshed fruit. Luca’s eyelids were drooping as his body felt full and warm, accompanied by his own friend’s radiating heat. His gaze lingered as Alberto licked gelato from his lips, the cream dripping from the corner of his mouth. Forcing his eyes to look anywhere else, Luca shifted closer to Alberto. Instead, his gaze landed on his father asking animatedly about the fireworks in Massimo’s hand, the larger man looking both confused and entertained by Lorenzo’s energy.

“I know I already said it, but happy birthday,” Luca dragged his eyes back to the tanned boy next to him and smiled. He jumped slightly at the first explosion, watching in delight as the light of the fireworks made his friend’s skin glisten with multicolored hues.

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” He replied easily. Neither made comment as their arms brushed or as their hands splayed out behind them with barely any space between. Up above the merry group, bright color after bright color bloomed across a starlit sky, the stars twinkling their own delight.

[glacecakes]

Wild Hunt

Eugene isn't exactly well liked by his men, but when they want to induct him into their ranks, he's not going to complain! All he has to do is hunt down a beast that they prepared for this event specifically-

It's Varian. Eugene is accidentally hunting down Varian. Now the two have to survive the night together, while one of them is injured, against a squadron of Corona's best men.

Uh oh.

IM BACK! Kinda. Finals are due Tuesday and I wrote this instead of doing them but WHATEVER WHO CARES

This was mostly written on the Varian Hivemind server, with some lovely inputs from the folks on there, and I edited it and finished it before throwing it up here. So uh. Yea. Team Awesome my beloved

Life and Times and VVO will also be updated soon!!! I hope to have at least one if not both chapters done by the end of the month 

ANYWAY HERES 8K OF TEAM AWESOME ANGST

Being Captain of the Guards sure had its perks.

For one, he got to attend meetings with Rapunzel, finally. You'd think being the princess's future husband (probably) and Prince of the Dark Kingdom got him some recognition, but noblemen are jerks and elitists, so what can you do. Granted, the meetings were boring as all hell, but still, it felt like he was actually being respected and taken seriously. Something Rapunzel had been pushing for since the start. Personally, he wasn't all that sure he deserved it, but if she was happy, so was he.

Another was that the guards no longer gave him shit. That's not to say they did before... well, they did. Stan and Pete didn't, but every other guard called him Flynn Rider at least once or twice before begrudgingly accepting him as their teacher and now commander. He no longer had to worry about someone breathing down his back, waiting for him to slip up or commit a crime, eager to throw him back in prison.

Speaking of which...

He turned the corner to see a few guards, couldn't remember their names off the top of his head, forming a small circle around a corner. Their predatory grins barred down on whatever their target was, whichever poor soul had angered them. One of them had his hands on someone much shorter, so short he couldn't make them out beyond the red coats and gleaming gold... which could only mean it was one person.

"Don't get comfy, brat," the one hissed, pushing Varian up against the wall with an audible crack as a skull hit stone, no doubt hoisted up by a shirt collar. "One of these days the princess is gonna get sick of you, and when she does, we'll toss you back into your old cell... and we'll restart our favorite game. Ain't that a swell idea?" Varian hissed, a soft thunk of his boots scrambling for purchase against the wall.

"Hey!" Eugene snapped, having heard more than enough. "Put him down now ." His words were like fire, causing the other two to jump back and reveal the battered and bruised alchemist. His lip was split, a large scuff of dirt on his white shirt.

One of the guards snapped his head around, whacking the leader's shoulder to get his attention. The guard frowned. "Oh yea? Or what?"

Before his new position, he would've leapt into the fray, hackles raised, punching the lights out of these jerks, but now, he had a much better stance. "Or you're fired." He crossed his arms, the perfect picture of a guy in charge who knew how to keep his men in line.

Someone who was clearly not him.

The guard hummed. "You don't have the nerve." To emphasize his point, he shook Varian a little harder, the kid's toes barely scraping the floor and his hands gripping the soldier's wrists. Leather gloves creaked with how tight the pressure was.

But Eugene's glare didn't waver, hand itching for the sword at his hip, his anger radiating in waves. It was enough to get the other two to back off.

"Cmon, Aaron," one whispered. "It's not worth it."

"Yeah, it's not." Eugene agreed. "Put him down now, and I'll lighten your sentence to a week in the stables instead of a month."

Aaron's face turned sheet white, then bright red. With a huff, he dropped Varian to the ground, readjusting his gloves while Varian cried out on the floor.

"You got lucky this time, brat," he hissed.

Oh, he knew that type of speech. The Baron used it all the time. Anyone who got told that never lasted to the next month. "And all other times," he said. "Because if I see you go anywhere near him I'm taking you to the princess."

Aaron rolled his eyes, clearly uncaring, and stormed off with a huff, his buddies trailing after. No doubt they didn't like a criminal ordering them around. Or, ex-criminal. He'd have to keep an eye on them.

A sniffle broke Eugene's musings, the fog of satisfaction and annoyance quickly replaced by concern for his younger friend. Varian sat up, wincing as he did so. He rubbed his neck, feeling for any injuries and finding none except for his ruined collar. "Aw man," he mumbled.

Dad had fixed his collar for him that day, a proud smile on his face. "You need to look sharp for your first day on the job," he'd said, ruffling Varian's hair. They'd grown so much closer in the past few months, the man always seeing his son off. Today was the first day back after his kidnapping, after all; he'd spent a month recovering from a broken rib.

"It's not my first day, I've been working there for weeks," Varian had grumbled, but let him do it with a cheeky grin.

"First day of the week," Quirin rectified, placing a kiss to his baby's forehead.

A forehead now covered in dust and a bruise.

"Hey kid," Eugene offered a hand that Varian gladly took, stumbling a little as he was helped upright. "You ok? Nothing knocked outta place?"

"Just my pride," Varian joked, smile quickly fading. "I'm ok though, really. I'm used to it." He shrugged, hugging himself for comfort. Maybe he could pretend dad was here, hugging him... he always had the best hugs. Even when Varian was little, before they drifted apart. Back when he was just the weird magic kid. Back when his biggest worries were some older kids picking on him... Dad would always scoop him up into a big hug with flowery words and a book of Flynn Rider.

A warm hand wrapped around him, pulling him into a red chest. Eugene took his other hand to ruffle Varian's hair, earning a squawk of complaint.

"Just because you're used to it doesn't mean it's ok, you know that, right?" Silence followed. Gosh, this kid... say what you want about being an orphan, at least everyone around you was on the same boat. No place for bullies, nothing to bully about, when everyone was doing just as badly. "If they ever give you more trouble, you come to me, yeah?"

"Huh?" Confused blue eyes met warm brown.

Eugene smirked. "You say the words and I boot them out of the castle, goggles. Team Awesome looks out for each other."

"Oh," Varian mumbled, dazed. He'd never had a protector, never had anyone looking out for him. Cold sneers and flowery words, manipulation and secrets and ulterior motives, sure. His chest fluttered, a laugh escaping.

But then... the anxiety returned full force, maybe even stronger.

If those guys got fired because of him, good god, he could only imagine the fallout. Well, that's not true. He absolutely could. One time in prison a guard got fired for beating a cellmate within an inch of his life, and though the guy lived, the second he was out of prison he got jumped, or so the story goes. In all honesty it was probably an embellished truth, stretched out to frighten prisoners into silence, but god damn if it didn't work. No one ever complained about their beatings. A peep was all that was needed to spend a night in the infirmary for even worse injuries.

"No, no, it's fine," Varian flicked his wrist. The dial on his hand spun with each flick, the ticking grating. "Besides, we have work to do!"

"Oh, yea!" Eugene gasped. Right! The whole reason he came out to this part of the castle was to look for Varian specifically, after all.

"So, right, maintenance stuff." Varian waved his hand, motioning for Eugene to follow. "Here's what I had in mind..."

-

It was a week later, late at night, when Aaron approached him. The moon lay low in the sky, just bright enough to allow for vision without torchlight, but not bright enough that anything beyond shapes were clear. True to his word, the guard had been stationed on stable duty for the past several days, coming back to the barracks covered in dirt and angry every time.

So maybe Eugene had whispered to Max about him. Big deal.

Anyway, the captain was knee-deep in paperwork when Aaron knocked on his office door. "Sir," he said. "Finished up for the day, and I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh?" Eugene put his quill down hesitantly. Aaron was his first big show of power, the first punishment he'd dished. Everything else had been a variation of "keep doing what you're doing" as he settled into his new role. Who knew being in a position of power was so stressful?

(Everyone. Literally everyone.)

"I wanted to apologize for testing you, sir." The man shifted, eyes never meeting. His face was unreadable. "I wasn't sure you were going to be as..... sharp, as our previous captain. And I'm sorry for that."

"....Ok," Eugene said. "Thanks? I think?"

"So, I uh... wanted to do something for you." The man continues. "Me and a few others. It's sorta a ritual for guards. We didn’t do it before cuz of, yknow, Cassandra and stuff. And you're one of us now, so...?" He raised an eyebrow, a quiet invitation.

Oh boy.

Knowing these guys, it was probably something really stupid. Most of the guards were pretty nice, maybe a bit airheaded, but a lot of meatheads mostly. Big fans of machismo and showing their strength, boosting their ego, stuff like that. It's why none of them were fans of being run by a criminal. And no doubt Eugene would have to clean up their mess anyway, so he sighed deeply and rose from his seat. "Alright, what did you do now?"

Aaron placed a hand to his chest. "Why, sir, we did this out of the goodness of our heart! We're just welcoming you to the team!" He laughed a bit at that last part. He pointed out the door, leading his superior down the suspiciously empty barracks, and out into the courtyard.

About a dozen or so guards were outside, waiting. One of them was holding a horse's reins, and a crossbow.

"He's in!" Aaron called, and the guards all broke into cheers and raucous laughter.

"Yea, nice to see you guys too, uh. What am I... in?" Eugene asked, shifting awkwardly.

Aaron's smile widened. "It's just a fun little game, sir."

"The game is simple, really," Aaron slung an arm around Eugene's shoulder, pulling him close, not unlike how Lance does. But unlike his larger friend, this man is wiry, more of a weaselly kind of build, with stick thin arms that hide his muscle. "See, when someone new joins the guard, we test their skill by having them hunt down a beast in the nearby forest. Once they catch it, we all celebrate together! And welcome him into the ranks!" The guards all cheered, no doubt thrilled at the prospect.

"....right...." Eugene smiled uncomfortably, cheeks pulling and stretching, a puppet controlling the strings attached to his face. His stomach swirled, bouncing all over as he was passed around.

"But see, you're not just any guard, you're the Captain," Aaron's smile took an equally unpleasant demeanour. "So we figured we'd give you some extra... challenge." Outside of their little circle, no sounds could be heard. Not a peep from a cricket, or a cry from a bird, just dead silence in the surrounding glen. Just the crackle of torches, and the rustling of men.

"The beast for this occasion is small, smart, and fast. The goal is to catch it before it reaches the wall at Old Corona. All you gotta do is," he makes a noise with his mouth to emulate the crossbow. "Hit the target, and the rest of us will finish the job."

"Finish?" Eugene echoed.

The guards around him smiled with all of their teeth. "Well yea, we're not just gonna waste a perfectly good beast, are we?"

Eugene narrowed his eyes. If Rapunzel heard about this, no doubt she'd flip. "How will I know what I'm looking for? And why should I even approve of this?"

"Relax, sir," Aaron shook him, patting his chest with a heavy fist. "We're not just killing an innocent creature. It's always something that's been marked for slaughter, or is causing problems. And trust me," his voice deepened. "You'll know."

No horse was as good as Max, but that was probably for the best, what with his gut screaming about how this all felt so goddamn sketchy. "This isn't some trap where it turns out I'm the one being hunted, right? Cuz I don't want to shoot any of you with this," he joked, brandishing the crossbow.

"No, sir, not at all! In fact we'll be supporting you! No one makes the first shot until you do." He promised, patting the horse's flank. "Rest assured, no tricks here. Just a beast already marked for capture. Or recapture, in this case. We picked this one special for you."

"That sounds like it's supposed to be flattering but it really isn't."

Aaron shrugged. "Not my problem. Good luck!" With a smack to the horse, she cried out, spurring Eugene forward.

They rode through the Capital, out into Corona proper, lush with trees. At this time of night, no one would be about, not even thieves, laden in their straw beds and cots. The only things out right now are animals, or a beast, in this case. How is he supposed to know what he's looking for? What, is it going to be some giant thing with red eyes? No, Aaron said it was small, how the hell is he going to...

Then he hears it.

It's faint, almost like a windchime, but sure enough, the clanking of chains, and a small whimper. Somewhere through the trees there's a rustling, something moving. He can't make it out, the guards didn't give him a torch, but a blob of something rushes forward, the only thing he can make out the distinctive shine of metal, a chain reflecting in the moonlight.

Ah.

Eugene smirked, the rush of adrenaline from a chase beginning to pump through his veins. It'd been a while since an adventure without any stakes, without any daring challenges or risking death. The last time must've been... gosh, probably the Herz de Sonne misadventure? And even then he and Lance had just goofed off for the majority of it. Maybe the Spire? That one was much riskier but he and Rapunzel had been so outrageously drunk during that whole endeavor that it felt more like a fun jaunt.

He shook himself out of his reverie. Focus, Eugene! Fun or no, you're proving yourself to the guards! Show them that you're a worthy Captain beyond just barking orders and supporting the princess!

He spurred the horse forward, hooves thundering against the undergrowth and disturbing the leaves below. The beast let out a shriek, shrill and shaking, rushing forward. It weaved between trees, trying to throw Eugene off. Man, Aaron wasn't kidding about how fast it was. Even on horseback he couldn't keep up very well. The chains wrapped around the beast's legs screamed in complaint, clanking and clattering with each huff of its breath.

Eugene lowered the crossbow, sticking his tongue out. Steady... steady.... he fired.

The bolt whizzed through the air, lodging into a tree just a few feet away from its target. The beast flinched but didn't slow, scampering through the undergrowth, leaping over a fallen tree towards the river.

"Hyah!" He yelled, leading his horse over the log and splashing down into frigid waters. Water rushed past his horse's hooves, dulling the sound of chains, and when he looked around, the beast was gone.

Drat.

Eugene grumbled, reloading the crossbow before urging his horse onward. If this beast got away he'd never hear the end of it! They'd be all "Yes sir, Captain! We'll catch that criminal! As soon as you catch that beast!" And then they'd laugh and he'd moan and he'd have to go catch the criminal himself which is honestly not too far off from how it is already-

Anyway.

It took a few minutes to find it again, the beast trying to muffle it's movements by shuffling, but the metal song was too alluring to ignore. There was no time to waste. With the horse at a fast trot, quieter and steadier, he fired the bolt, this time getting much closer, barely whizzing past the silhouette and lodging into a tree trunk with a chunk of hair.

The creature cried out again, beginning to run and renew this dance of cat and mouse, but Eugene wouldn't have it. Dexterous fingers clasped a new bolt and quickly reloaded, giving barely a few seconds for the creature to try and run before firing again.

He didn't miss.

It was almost silent, the bolt's descent. Its tip gleamed in the moonlight alongside the chains keeping his prey in place, the one thing that slowed it and gave Eugene the upper hand. Whatever this beast was was quick, too quick, and if he lost it again, no doubt he'd never find it again. So when he aimed, he aimed down, and sure enough, the bolt embedded itself into the beast's calf, sending into stumbling.

It shrieked, screamed and sobbed in agony, noises bordering on almost human-like as it thrashed on the floor. The arrow stuck straight up, bright color on the end almost a beacon for the beast's location. Poor thing. He really should've just aimed for the head and put it out of its mercy, but this was the only way to ensure a clean shot.

Eugene slid off his horse, crouching low to the ground as he readied the final blow. But as he got nearer, as the moon hung lower in the sky, providing light through the filtering trees. He hesitated.

The beast was crawling, still trying to run, front legs pawing at the forest floor and clenching the leaves beneath with hands.

Hands...?

Eugene's stomach sank, lower and lower with each passing step, heart climbing higher and higher in his throat, the closer he got, the more ill he felt.

He saw the chains first. No, not chains like that on a cattle’s neck. Prison shackles, the kind wrapped around a prisoner's legs. And they were wrapped around legs, keeping strides from being too large.

And their torso.... clothed torso..... The beast heaved, each breath causing it to rise and fall with rapid panic.

The Captain's hands brushed against the tree with his other bolt embedded in it, eyes trailing onto it, and he froze.

Blue hair, stabbed by the bolt.

"No," he breathed. "No no no no no..." His boots picked up the pace, speed walking over to his catch, to his victim. Please, for the love of god, let him be wrong. Let this be a cruel prank, just a bear or deer dressed up to fool him... don't let it be...!

The creature heard him approach and sobbed, flipping itself over on shaking hands to get a better look at its assailant.

There, lightened by the moonlight, chest heaving, tears streaming down his face and blood oozing from his leg, was Varian.

"Varian....?" Eugene whispered, tears of his own budding when his friend whimpered, scooting back and away. With each step forward Varian scrambled back until his back hit a tree, at which point he curled into a ball. Like a frightened animal. Like a cornered beast.

Oh god... this whole time, he thought it was just one of the farm animals marked for slaughter, or a meddlesome woodland critter... he thought it was an animal destined for someone's table, so why not the guards'? Why on Earth did he agree to this? Was he so desperate for approval from his peers that he would simply shrug off the ringing alarm bells, put aside his gut instinct, and dive in blindly?

Yes, his mind whispered. You would, and you did.

"Hey, buddy," He leaned down, inching closer. "Varian, goggles, it's me. It's Team Awesome." His hand shook as he reached forward, but Varian flinched violently, causing his leg to spasm. The boy hiccuped, a hand clamping over his mouth to stifle his sobs. A small mercy came from the shadows of the night, with it too dark for details, Varian wouldn't see the blood rapidly soaking his pants.

The crossbow glinted, a sharp refraction bouncing off frightened blue eyes and causing him to wince. Eugene tossed the weapon away like it burned him.

"It's me, it's Eugene," he reassured, scooting closer bit by bit. "I'm here to help. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You did," Varian gasped, whole form shaking. "You did."

And that really was the crux of it, wasn't it? At the center of Eugene's self loathing was the spiral of guilt that you shot him, you shot the kid. He trusted you, and you shot him.

"I know," he rasped, trying to keep his voice level. "I did. I'm so sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." Varian sobbed, unfurling slightly if only to reach out for comfort. Even if this was the man who hurt him, who hunted him on horse and acted as the boogeyman straight out of nightmares, he was also Eugene, his friend, the one who stood up for him against Cass and Aaron, held his hand and promised he'd be there if Varian ever needed it. And god did he need him now.

Shaking, gloved hands connected in the middle, Eugene's grip gentle but grounding, a careful smile on his face. "That's it, bud. You're safe."

“Aw, ain’t that cute?”

Faster than a bullet, the smaller hand retracted, Varian’s eyes wide and horror-struck. In his attempt to comfort the boy, Eugene had let his guard down. He’d forgotten the final rule of the game.

No one moves until you make the first shot.

They were surrounded.

Aaron swaggered up to the duo with a grin, torch in hand. It flickered and sputtered, illuminating his blinding white grin amidst the darkness. The other guards formed a circle around them. Every other man carried a torch, while the rest had a weapon or tool or rope.

“The Captain has captured the beast! And in remarkable time, too.” Aaron simpered, waltzing up and gripping Varian’s cheeks in his hand. The boy snarled, teeth grit as he stared up at his bully.

From behind them came Aaron’s two buddies, the guards from before, each one wrapping an arm around Eugene’s shoulder, hauling him up and away.

For a moment, Eugene's insides were pure ice, frozen in time, unable to react despite the screaming in his mind as the puzzle pieces failed to connect. They jumbled and sloshed in his mind, the picture only half complete and the rest of the pieces strewn atop, obscuring the image from his view.

"Eugene...?" Varian whispered, thawing him.

"What have you done!?" He bellowed, anger hardening his voice. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?" He strained against the guards.

"Just as we told you, sir!" Aaron mocked, forcing Varian to meet the Captain's gaze. "We captured a beast for you to hunt down! And now that you have," The grin was razor sharp, shark's fangs practically drenched in blood. "We'll dispose of it properly."

A guard from the circle threw a rope, the ends tied into a loop. Like a ring toss, the aim was true, ensnaring Varian's wrist and tightening when he pulled. Another guard followed suit, yanking the boy back and forth till his arms were spread eagle and unable to move.

Varian turned a stark white, paler than the moon that neared the horizon. He cried out, straining to try and escape, but another spasm from his leg paralyzed him. “N-no, please not again…!” He sobbed. “Let me go-!”

"Again!? Varian, what do you mean? VARIAN!" Eugene yelled. "VARIAN!"

The boy screwed his eyes shut, praying for the nightmare to end.

"LET HIM GO!" Eugene strained against the guards, lamenting once again, his own stupidity. He should've brought Max, or an actual weapon, like his sword, or something! He'd gone in totally blind, expecting that the guards were decent people and that this wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary. Honestly, he should've known better! After everything he's seen and done, never leave the house without a concealed weapon! You were almost executed by half these assholes!

When he gets back, he's firing everyone except Stan and Pete.

A third rope flashed through the air, this time with a loop larger than the others. It latched itself onto Varian's neck, wrapping tight and close. His eyes snapped open in pure terror, mouth opening in shock. But before the boy could protest or scream, the rope was pulled taut, and his face turned an awful shade of purple. He coughed, thrashing in place with tears of fear and hypoxia trailing his cheeks.

"Aw, the beast is scared! Doesn't he know how all animals are slaughtered?" Aaron cooed, faux sympathy marring his features. "You know, don't you? You were raised on a farm, after all." His question went unanswered, Varian too busy rasping for breath to respond.

The man with the rope pulled harder, forcing Varian's face down into the dirt where his muffled cries barely caused the leaves beneath to move. A steel boot stomped onto his head, and the cries went still.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!?" Eugene bellowed, the protective instincts in his mind going haywire, overheating and exploding with pure rage and an intense need to save him, free him. He let this happen, if he had been smarter, stronger, if he hadn't shot him, hadn't let his guard down, hadn't shrugged and taken the guards' words at face value… “Oh relax, it'll be painless!” Aaron hummed, producing a knife from his belt. “The beast didn’t answer the question, but, I’m sure you can figure out how animals are killed after falling unconscious.” He jokingly slashed the dagger in the air above his throat, and Eugene saw red.

"YOU ARE SO FIRED!" He screeched at Aaron. "WHEN RAPUNZEL FINDS OUT-"

"Oh?" Aaron mocked, turning around and placing a hand to his chest daintily. "When the princess finds out? You're making her do all the heavy lifting?" He sauntered up to Eugene, hips swaying with each step till they were nose to nose. "This is your job, sir. You are in charge of keeping us in line, keeping the prisoners in their place."

"Varian is NOT a prisoner," Eugene hissed, meeting his gaze with pure fury. "He is a friend, my friend, my brother."

"Perhaps to Eugene Fitzherbert, but not a Captain of the Guard." Aaron shrugged.

Eugene lowered his head. For a brief moment, Aaron grinned victoriously. Now he's getting it.

"Too bad for you, I'm both."

Aaron's face fell, the cheerful facade falling into a brutal glower. "What does that mea-"

He was cut off when Eugene slammed his face into Aaron's, hitting the bastard's nose with a CRUNCH. He staggered back, and his buddies loosened their grip on Eugene to see if he's ok. It's all the advantage Eugene needed, quickly pushing them both off him and charging Aaron. His shoulder bowled into Aaron, sending him sprawling, and Eugene only stopped to grab the dagger he dropped before sprinting for Varian's crumpled form.

"Oh sun, please be ok, come on kid," Eugene chanted, slashing the rope around his neck. It leaves a brutal ring of red around his neck, as do the ones around his wrist when they're dispatched. There was no time to remove the chains, what with the remaining guards quickly regaining their senses and gearing up for a fight.

He lifted Varian up into his arms as if he were made of glass. Dark black hair lolled against the Captain's chest as he stood to his full height, glaring down at his employees, the hazers, the conspirators.

There was no hope of taking them all on, that much was clear. Charging into battle with hands full and armed only with a knife was stupid. He'd have to outrun them, play the game, and make it to Old Corona where Quirin could protect his son and he could get actual backup from loyal men.

Perhaps this was the true game, the true test of his worthiness.

Aaron snarled, staggering up while clutching his nose. "GET HIM!"

Eugene crouched, letting the first guard try and charge him before jumping out of the way at the last second. This he was used to, dodging men who wanted nothing more than to hurt and destroy what he held dear, making a run for it to the relative safety of the familiar. He fell into the old routine without too much difficulty, leaping over heads and ducking under blows. It helped that Varian barely weighed more than a few grapes, still a stick from his year in prison. He and the others had been hard at work trying to help him gain at the very least some muscle, though Varian was a big fan of skipping meals for science.

According to Quirin he's had that habit for a while, and right now it was a minor blessing.

Huh, he thought to himself as he dodged a crossbow bolt, taking off into the trees. Captain of the Guard isn't all that off from my usual life, just with some added benefits. Another arrow nearly took off his ear. Yea, same old stuff.

His feet pounded against the forest floor, dredging up leaves and dirt alike as he ran. There was no time to cover his tracks or be discreet, there was a whole battalion after him, so it wouldn't do much good anyway. But as his steps quickened, as Varian bounced up and down in his arms, the chains still rattling, the boy stirred, groaning in pain with each motion.

"Gene...?" He mumbled, muffled through the man’s coat.

"Hey kid," Eugene grinned down, not slowing for a second. "Glad to see you're ok. How's your throat?"

"On fire..." a weak hand pawed at his throat, rubbing the soreness away.

"Sorry about that, you're gonna be just fine, ok? It's all gonna be ok."

Varian hummed, eyes glossy and not fully there. His head fell back onto Eugene's chest, a soft smile full of love that he didn't deserve. "K. I trust you."

Varian fell back into an uneasy sleep after that, his breaths wheezing against Eugene, lips stained blue and face clammy. Anytime exhaustion tried to creep into his bones, tried to sneak into his soul and drain him to surrender, he looked down at Varian and his spirit would renew.

At some point, they were hiding behind a tree, keeping to the intense darkness. A few guards could be heard not too far off, their annoyed mutterings like an alarm bell, a siren's song of false security. Just as they passed, Varian coughed, clutching at the fabric for comfort. It was an ugly sound, weak and ragged, as if there was something coming up.

When he looked down, those blue lips were now stained red.

He picked up the pace after that.

But even he couldn't run forever, no matter how light Varian was or how determined he was. Inevitably he had to stop for water, hiding Varian behind a fallen tree and drinking from a stream whose sounds hid them from view.

He just finished his own drink when Varian stirred, and the Captain was quick to help Varian get some water of his own.

They sat by the stream for a bit, catching their breaths, Eugene from exertion, and Varian from strangulation.

It was here that Varian recounted his side of the story, tears dripping and mixing with the stream below him. "I was so scared..." he whispered, voice hoarse.

"I bet," Eugene soothed, running a thumb over Varian's palm. "What happened?"

"....I got jumped," his eyes turned downcast, shame coloring his features. "T-they grabbed me when I was gonna head home. Said that they wanted to make it up to me, to... to give me "a job befitting my talents"...." He sighed. "You can probably guess what that was, huh."

Eugene's ears burned. A flame simmered in his gut, nausea falling away as his free hand clenched at the leaves below him. "Yea. I can." He bit out.

For a moment, neither spoke, unsure of what to say. What could they say? The situation was insane, it was cruel, it was... it was…

Varian hacked, more blood than before coming up and splattering on the shackles that remained.

"Oh, let me get those," Eugene hissed. "I'm sorry, shit," He fumbled for his pockets, procuring a lock pick and making quick work of the shackles. "We gotta move. We can't let them find us." His hands hovered over the bolt, unsure. "Can I... I mean, you can't run with..."

Varian turned a shade of green, barely visible. “It’s stopping the blood from coming out.”

"Yea, good point, sorry." He coughed awkwardly, the stream bubbling and gurgling a simple melody.

"Why do... why do you keep apologizing?" Varian asked, not meeting Eugene's eye for a second.

"Wh- seriously?" He let out a bark of laughter, fading when Varian's face didn't change. "Kid, it's my fault you're in this mess! Sun above, I shot you. I said I'd keep you safe and I shot you." Anger swelled in his words, but Varian didn't flinch. He knew it wasn't directed at him. "Some Captain I am, I'm being chased by my own guys."

Varian bit his lip. "Did..." he hesitated to ask. If the answer wasn't what he was hoping for, he'd never recover. "Did you know it was me?"

"No!" Eugene's eyes widened. "No, I never would've agreed if I knew it was a person, let alone you!" He ran a hand through frazzled hair.

"So..." Varian hummed. "You shot me on accident, and then saved me. Again. Even when your men tried to convince you otherwise." Each sentence was slow, filled with Varian needed to take in a breath, but he met his friend's eyes this time. "I think that's a pretty good Captain."

Eugene blinked, then smiled. "Thanks, kid."

Dark voices shouted across the clearing, words incomprehensible. Varian jolted, hands flying up before doubling over hacking. Each cough shook his body so hard you’d think the boy was trembling with fright.

“Woah, easy,” Eugene’s hand rubbed over his back. “Deep breaths. Come on goggles. You got this.”

“You would think,” Varian rasped. “But I do not.”

Finally, with one final hack, his coughs ceased. Each gulp of air felt like heaven, or at least it did for the first few seconds. Then it was replaced by a searing hell, leaving him scrambling again.

God, what is the culprit?

As his breathing quieted, as the burn turned to a small simmer, Varian’s eyes trailed to the forest floor beneath him.

Stained with blood.

Varian’s eyes widened, his pupils shrunk to pinpricks as his entire world focused in on the blood. The dark blues of night left it hard to see, more a black shine than the vicious red, but there was no denying what it was.

“What-oooh,” Eugene hissed, grabbing Varian’s shoulders for support. Shit, this was bad. He made a mental list of symptoms for the inevitable doctor visit: raspy voice, struggling to breathe, coughing up blood... all signs pointed to the noose as the culprit. Whichever guard had tried to strangle Varian was getting fired and arrested.

No, screw it, all of them were.

“Focus on me, hair stripe,” he warned, shaking his brother slightly. “Are you ok to move?” All he got was a weedy moan.  “I’m taking that as a maybe.” With no preamble, he scooped his arms under Varian’s knees and back, pulling him into his arms as he stood in one fluid motion. “I’m gonna try and make a run for it, ok? We’re almost to your dad. I just need you to stay with me.”

Silence, and then a faint nod moving against his coat.

Each step sent vibrations up Eugene’s spine, tingling and thrumming in his veins and pounding in time with his heart. The sun would be rising soon, it had to be, with the dew that is forming at his feet.

At some point Varian readjusted, shifting so that he could see over their shoulders. He couldn’t run, couldn’t fight, but at least he could keep an eye out.

And it’s a good thing he did, when he beats wildly at Eugene’s chest in a signal. The captain was about to duck behind a bush, but the forest’s edge is within sight! Maybe if they made a break for it...?

An arrow grazed his side.

The pain looped through his system, joining the adrenaline for a joyride through his mind and it sent him sprawling. Varian rolled out of his arms, collapsing at the forest’s edge.

Eugene groaned, raising his face with the sun to see Aaron’s smug grin glowing in the upcoming dawn.

“Well, look what I caught! A daddy beast and a baby beast!” He said.

Eugene gaped. “Could you be any creepier? Really, gotta go for the weirdest shit to say, don’t you?”

“Eh,” Aaron shrugged, crossbow in hand. He stepped past his boss (Er, ex boss), boots crunching on leaves and leaving nothing but dust in their wake. “I’m a weird guy, I guess.”

“Yea, a real weirdo. Kidnaps a teenager and has the captain hunt him for sport. A nice quirk, ain’t it!” Each word is angrier than before until he is spitting acid.

Aaron doesn’t even argue; he’s too caught up in his victory. Varian shook as he struggled to sit up, arms quivering with effort. Just as he raised his head his eyes met the gleaming tip of an arrow, aimed right between the eyes. “Say goodnight, kid. Don’t worry. I’ll make a fine trophy out of you. Hang your goggles over my mantle.”

“Would you knock it the fuck off!?” Eugene wheezed, scrambling up. His feet gave out near instantly, but he leapt forward, colliding with the guard and driving his aim up. The arrow whizzed overhead, harmlessly lodging into a tree.

“Varian, run!” Eugene yelled, still on top of the other.

“I CAN’T! What part of arrow in my leg don’t you get!?” Varian yelled, immediately followed by coughing.

Eugene went to answer, only for the butt of the crossbow to whack him in the face.

Aaron laughed, loud and manic, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. It was quickly stopped by a punch to his stomach from the furious man above him. If the others found them, it’d be game over. Literally.

Whether or not Eugene would be killed was unclear. While he didn’t always need Rapunzel to save him, her good graces granted him immunity from most local threats. But they’d definitely kill Varian, and that was the bigger concern to him.

Unfazed, Aaron slammed his skull into Eugene’s, sending him tearing back. The guard quickly flipped them, crossbow still in between.

“Face it,” Aaron snarled. “You’ll never be a true captain. You can’t control your men, can’t protect a kid, can’t even protect yourself. You just got the job because you saved the lost princess.”

“In my defense,” Eugene wheezed. “Your previous guard couldn’t do that either.” That only angered him more, digging the crossbow into Eugene’s Adam’s apple.

The two men wrestled briefly, Eugene finally getting a good grip on the crossbow, and kicking Aaron off of him. He scrambled to Varian, fully prepared to scoop him up and begin the dance again, just for a little longer, but Aaron just yelled out in anger, drawing a sword from his belt. As strong as Eugene was, he couldn’t outrun him with Varian in his arms. He would know, he trained his men to match him in speed and strength.

Varian moaned in pain. He had to do something, he couldn’t just sit here! Eugene had spent the whole night running around, working his ass off to keep him safe after the initial mistake, he couldn’t let him down...

But the arrow scraped against his bone, pain sending stars across his vision any time he stood…

The captain’s hands clenched down on wood, eyes calculating. He looked into Varian’s eyes, then down at his leg. Then up again. And down again. He hissed between teeth, kneeled down, and clenched his fist around the arrow. It sent a pulse of pain through Varian’s leg, the boy wincing, but understanding.

“Do it,” he hissed.

And yanked.

The pain was so sharp, so intense, that for a moment Varian was certain he was dead. There was no way anyone could survive with this much pain, he must surely be dead or dying. White hot agony stabbed into his leg, and he bit so hard on his lip he broke skin. It took everything in him not to scream.

Aaron laughed again, shadow blanketing them. Eugene turned to see him looming over them, sword above his head. “Say goodnight, Sir!” he shrieked.

Fwip!

Thunk!

The man’s grin vanished in an instant, replaced by sheer shock at the arrow sticking straight into his throat. Blood trickled down the wound, looking more like an impulse tracheotomy. Suddenly, he pitched forward, face hitting the forest floor with a sickening shick as the arrow went the rest of the way through his throat. There wasn’t even a struggle, no death rattles or cry of pain, just the sounds of a morning dove in the coming dawn.

Eugene’s shoulders slumped, and Varian leaned back into the cool grass.

“You doing alright there, Goggles?” Eugene called.

“My lungs are on fire, I can’t feel my legs and I’m sweating in places I didn’t even know I could sweat. I’d say I’m in the mood to die, but I literally just spent the whole night trying to prevent that.”

“...fair enough.”

-

The weeks that followed were, for lack of a better term, a total fucking nightmare.

After pulling themselves together, the brothers managed to hobble to Varian’s house in Old Corona, just in time to greet Quirin at the door. Imagine the poor man’s shock when he was headed out to work only to be greeted by his son’s blood and the captain’s exhaustion. Suffice to say, they got a proper tongue lashing the whole cart ride to Corona proper, the father fussing over them both while he rushed them to the infirmary. And then they had to get chewed out by Rapunzel, and Lance, and pretty much everyone else, despite their repeated insistence that it wasn’t their fault this time.

“What did you expect us to do? We were being hunted!” Eugene whined at Rapunzel while a nurse cleaned up a cut.

“Uh, I was being hunted. You were hunting me .” Varian hoarsely piped up from his own bed, leg propped up in a cast. He paused at the frantic stop motion Eugene was making, and the paling faces of his father and princess. “Oh. Was I. Not supposed to say that.”

“You’re not supposed to be talking,” Rapunzel chided lightly, though that was clearly not the problem. The doctor had been pretty quick to explain Varian’s breathing issues were just from the throat trauma, and would heal with time and supervision.

“I didn’t know! In my defense,” Eugene held up his hands as if to shield from Quirin’s murderous face, but if looks could kill he’d be a pile of bones. “I didn’t know.”

“How do you…” Quirin pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to remind myself that you saved my son’s life and ignore the part where you endangered it in the first place.”

“Yes, please do,” He said, shifting under the glare.

And then came the paperwork.

Trying to figure out who among the guards was part of the hunt was hard enough, seeing as outside of Aaron and his cronies, no one was going to say a word. All they had to go off of were the men who saw Eugene off, and the ones who initially captured Varian. And since they hadn’t run into anyone else directly, no one could be properly accused and charged. But Eugene wasn’t going to take any chances, and therefore anyone who he saw at least once was fired, and if they wanted to dispute it they could come to him and explain why they were willing to throw his little brother to the wolves.

Suffice to say, no one did. Which left Eugene with only two thirds his original squadron. He spent a good while of his recovery vetting new recruits and creating incentives for others to try out, and while he was able to replenish his ranks, they weren’t nearly the same elite task force they’d started with. And considering the threats they faced on the regular, that was a serious problem.

It was after a long day of training and interviews that Eugene finally stumbled into the castle library, ready to destress with a nice long binge read of Flynn Rider. He grabbed a few books off the shelves as he walked, headed for his favorite couch and the cozy fireplace at its side, only to stop dead in his tracks.

Varian lay spread across the couch, foot propped up on the armrest as he glossed over some scientific text that Eugene had no hope of understanding. His eyes flitted up and down the page, clearly not actually reading and more just staring at the words.

“Hey,” Eugene called, and Varian barely reacted. “Oi, kid, that’s my spot. Scooch it.” “I got here first,” Varian said, not looking up for a second.

“Older brother gets first dibs.”

“Little brother gets his way.”

Oh he was gonna play it like that was he? Eugene smirked, plopping his books down at the floor before collapsing directly on top of Varian, making care to not crush the injured leg. Varian squawked in protest, limbs flailing.

“Get off! You’re heavy!” he yelled, trying to push him off. When that failed, he resorted to whacking at him.

“Never!” Eugene laughed. “Your little punches feel like flowers!”

“I have an iron deficiency!” Varian responded, cheeks red but smiling slightly. The captain finally stopped suffocating him, but didn’t get off, instead wiggling in close so they could share. “Mean,” Varian whined, a pout on his lips, but didn’t complain.

“Oh hush,” Eugene chided, grabbing a book from the floor. “You know you love me.”

Varian simply hummed, buck teeth peeking through a tiny grin. “So, what did you grab for today?”

“Ah, glad you asked!” Eugene held up the cover, which Varian oohed in appreciation. “One of the older ones, came out when I was your age.” He wrapped an arm around Varian, pulling his brother close, the warmth of his side and the fire combining to create a heavenly cocoon. “You want to read, or should I?”

“Your turn,” Varian responded, stifling a yawn.

The book creaked in protest, Eugene gazing down at his little brother with a smile. He leaned his cheek on the boy’s hair, deep voice dripping with fondness as he started to read.

Being Captain was fun, but being a brother was even better.

[playboysaleen]

Love Malady.

Part 2.

Part 1.

Summary: Daughter of the notorious gang of thieves. One day your brothers group kidnap a nobel woman. Feeling guilt you gave her warm clothes, tended to her injuries, and helped her escape. instantly the world falls under a deadly pandemic and is killing/infecting people left to right and you are the only one who is immune. All because you saved a girl years ago coming to find out... it was the goddess of death(Famine).

Warnings- cursing i think, violence.

___________

Present.

February 12th, 2021.

The night Buck got sick changed everyone's life. I waited hours for my phone to ring giving me the ‘okay homeboys fine.’ but Jaime walked into my room with tear-stained cheeks telling me Buck didn't make it.

Then a couple days later after Bucks death one of the guys found Adam dead with the same symptoms. Then Pedro, then Jackson, then Shelli, and it killed off almost all of my fathers gang. The disease spread like a wildfire. From our home town to the city, the state then just did this hopscotch move and expanded around the whole world.

The first year the doctors tried to keep it a secret but it flared so fast that society called it the ‘Sinister Ash’. There was no cure when the officials realized it was airborne, literally nothing could cure anyone. Some were lucky with similarities of a stomach virus and a mild headache, and there were the less fortunate. Headaches, stomach bugs, fever and cancer like symptoms. The strong can work through it but it was permanent. The rest who had it worst? Died off just like Buck and Adam.

“Why are you not eating?” My fathers voice rang me out of my thoughts with his thick Venezuela accent, I peeked at my father shrugging my shoulders. Grumbling, he focused his attention to Jaime as they went over the next move for their ‘purloins’. I grabbed my plate walking towards the kitchen running the hot water over the greatest plate, a thud sounded in the dining room which caused my brother's name to boom out my fathers mouth. I ran towards the other side of the table to grasp my brother's shaking body, cursing under my breath. I dialed 911.

“The ambulance is on the way, go Pa.” I instructed my father watching his face fall, he sighed placing his hand on my shoulder.

“Our time has come, I love you, my child.” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on my forehead making his way out the back. I cooed into Jaime’s hair as I held him in my arms praying to the man above if he could not let this disease invade my brother's body. ________________________________________ “Did you at least get the girls number?” Jaime stated in disbelief when he woke up and saw the EMT worker reeling him into the ER. I chuckled, shaking my head playfully, pushing his shoulder.

“She was pretty..” I mumbled causing Jaime to widen his eyes pushing me back-

“I TOLD YOU!” he laughed out loud when the doctor walked in with a clipboard. A man around his 50’s with a look that masked his face of light, but we all knew he was trying to survive like the rest of us.

“Good afternoon, I am Doctor Nives.” The man spoke ever so gently but his beard gave me Cap vibes. I nodded my head looking at Jaime slipping my hand into his.

“So there’s news, I do not know how you both will take it but-“ he grabs the x rays placing them onto the screen that took up half of the wall next to Jaime. I watched as the deeper detailed body of my brother's chest caged clouds of red, black, and green.

“As you can see you have stage 2 of the Ashen, the red that covers this area here-” Dr. Nives circled the red that surrounded the upper left of my brother's chest.

 “Covers your heart, but after running the test I see your red cells are fighting the virus and it knocks more time for you.” A lump formed in my throat as the last 4 words flew out his mouth.

“Wait, what do you mean more time?” His eyes soften sending me a sympathetic look, Jaime gasped softly looking down at his hands.

“Well from the lab work it shows that you had 3 months, but at how good your cells are handling the virus you have 6 months to a year.” He finished taking his gloves off and applying hand sanitizer,

“Since you ma’am we’re around him can we run some lab work for your safety?” He asked looking between Jaime and I. I looked at my brother to see him nodding my way, turning to the man I nodded as he clasp his hands together. 

“Great. We can move you right next door so you can stay close to your brother.” Reassuring the both of us, I placed a kiss against his forehead following the doctor out. I took a seat onto the bed leaning against the back of the wall holding out my arm. 

For the last 4 years I’ve noticed a big change in my appearance that it actually scares me on the inside. First year, I lost a tremendous amount of weight, the extra weight turned into bulk in the places I always wished for.. huh..

 During the first year, the acne on my face disappeared in thin air. One minute I’m trying to clean the pores with three different facial cleansers, I go to bed, then the next I wake up and my face is so clear. I was changing for the better, yet the world was changing for the worst. That first year we lost almost 2 million lives, including a lot of the people around me. 

The second year is what sparked my curiosity of my body. One night, I was cooking dinner for Jaime and I, having a heavy debate with who is better at shooting the knife slid through my palm causing Jaime to spring off the island placing his hand against the deep gash trying his best to stop the bleeding. We knew we couldn’t head to the hospital for the sake of our fathers identity and the groups, so Jaime wrapped my hand the best he could and called it a night. I didn’t like his Tostadas anyways. Next day, I woke up to change my bandage. I opened the wrap to see no gash from the night before. Eyebrows furrowing together I question my own body for the first time in my life.. I can’t be immortal, that’s only in books. Then I noticed it. From small paper cuts to bruises- my wounds healed faster than any other person. From taking days for a wound to close, a couple minutes and it’s gone. Clean. Like it was never there to begin with. 

Last year, an incident had happened; Traumatizing to say. Snuck out with an old friend of mine, talking around the den says she’s been trying to make a move on me but me being me I waved them off knowing she’s not the type. Met up with her, got a couple drinks in headed back to her place, got a couple kisses in. The kissing escalated until this small beautiful voice that I heard years back echoed in my ears, jumping back, I stopped what we had and went home. Next day I received the news that she passed away AND GET THIS- JUST like Buck. Since then, her voice echoes in my ear. It’s been quiet the last month, I miss it though. 

A pinch brought me out of my thoughts when the nurse smiled my way explaining what the blood was for and Dr.Nives will be in shortly to give me the news. I snooped around heading to my brothers room when my name was said from the doctors a couple rooms down from me. 

“That can’t be possible, it’s only been 5 minutes and she’s literally clean from head to toe.” A nurse quarreled, a couple more murmurs were heard but Dr.Nives voice caught my attention-

“Let’s do Code A.” A gasp was heard from within their circle with multiple disagreements, confusion flashed my face until a ‘yes sir’ and footsteps were heard coming my way. I sprinted towards my room taking a seat sending Jaime a small text message. 

“Heya Y/n, do you mind if I give you some antibiotics just in case you are diagnosed with the Ashen?” The nurse requested which I nodded extending my arm watching her place the small plate next to me. I squinted my eyes examining the shot that contained a weird dark substance. 

“Why is the stuff black? Isn’t medicine a clear color for safety purposes?” I blurted out, watching the nurse grab the shot striking the needle into my vein. I grunted feeling the warm liquid enter my body, I huffed lightly leaning my head against the wall. Then, it hit me. 

“Wait, what if my test comes back negative? Why do I need antibiotics?” I glanced at the nurse feeling my heartbeat raise as the room began to shrink.

“What’s… what’s happening to me?.” I whispered watching the nurse draw more blood from the previous spot. I felt like I needed to throw up, once the nurse left I wobbled towards my brothers room next door, 

“Man bro we need to get some take out when we leave this place- Y/n? Are you okay?” Jaime rambled out then his face washed with concern as I stumbled onto his bed. 

“I don’t feel so good Brother..” I breathed out looking up to lock eyes with his own. He gasped, wrapping his arms around me, rocking me back and forth. 

“Y/n…” he whispered, watching my contacts with my brown eyes slowly drain into this grey/golden color. 

“What the hell happened?” He asked turning towards the door making sure no one came in.

“They gave me the Sinister Ash.. I can feel it in my chest. We have to go.” I grunted using all my strength to push myself off my brother's bed wobbling towards the door. A cough formed in my throat falling out my mouth, my hand flew to my mouth watching the black and red substance pool into my hands. 

“Y/N?” Jaime shouted running to my side, I grabbed him for support walking out the room. I felt the fire in my chest pass when a small burp lashed out my lips. Sighing deeply I stood up straight facing Jaime. 

“I… I feel better.” I mumbled opening the doors to the emergency waiting room. My body collided with another grabbing them instantly- I gasped at how quick my reflexes were, even Jaime’s eyes widened. 

“Why thank you, I’m so sorry I- Y/m? Why are you not in your room?” Doctor Nives questioned looking between the both of us, I felt warm liquid on the side of my mouth. Quickly wiping it, a fake smile formed on my face slowly stepping back towards the exit just a couple feet from us. 

“Sorry Doctor, but I think it’s time my brother and I head home- our father must be worried sick.” I bluffed, gripping my brother's wrist, giving him the signal.

 “Y/n. We know who you both are.”

_______________

Thank you for the wait<3

taglist- @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #13

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Ramen Story

The voice of the owner as he said “welcome” turned into a mutter at the end, fading away. I could understand how he felt. With a light, cut-and-sew jacket draped over him, a blond, blue-eyed man had come inside, standing behind another man who quite literally had the air of a student. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to wonder if he was an actor. But we were just a party of two.

“Two people,” I indicated with a peace sign. We were guided to a table seat. There were no other people around. While we were at it, we gave them the meal tickets that we had bought from the vending machine outside. A couple of negi ramen.

“What a surprise. There’s always a long queue for this shop. So that’s how shops are like right after they open in a student district?”

In this shop, currently reserved to our exclusive use, I talked without restraint about all sorts of things – about the layout of the classroom building in my campus, about the hideout-like garden in the university’s premises, about my friends and even about my teachers. The shop’s atmosphere did that to me. The man who could well be the best listener in the world let me talk as much as I wanted, occasionally making an exasperated face.

“Here, sorry for the wait. It’s hot, so be careful.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“You too, Mr. Foreigner. This is ‘hot’.”

As Richard replied with a “thank you, madam”, the old lady laughed fickly.

Now for the ramen.

Its soup was salt-based, warm steam wafting from it. That being said, it wasn’t as if there was anything special about it. We hadn’t added any ingredients, so it was a simple one. Fermented bamboo shoots, dried seaweed, fish cake and a large helping of green onions.

We silently put our hands together to thank for the meal, taking the chopsticks and parting them with a snap. I took the dwindled noodles, then opened my mouth wide and filled it with them. I tried to make as little noise as possible.

Delicious.

This shop’s ramen was simple, but it was a strong ally for a student’s cold pockets and quick-to-get-hungry stomach. It stayed steadily in your belly, resolutely reminding you for about three hours that you had eaten ramen today. And above all else, the animalistic joy of eating without thinking was more irreplaceable than anything else. Tasty food was great.

By the moment I was done with my very-IQ-lacking monologue of “thank you, o ramen; o ramen, thank you”, there was only a little bit left of the contents of my bowl. Still eating the green onion ramen without a sound, Richard looked at me with upturned eyes from his bended posture. Those blue eyes made me seriously wonder if there weren’t gemstones inserted in them.

“Hey, you got a moment?”

“As you wish. Whatever you please.”

When I prefaced it with, “This is serious talk – super, super serious talk”, he made a face that screamed, “You’re being too long-winded”, so I went straight to the point.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come eat ramen with me.”

I hadn’t imagined that the day would come when I could eat a bowl of ramen for 450 yen at a historical, cozy ramen shop in the student town with this beautiful man who usually only wore suits. I hadn’t at all. Even now, another side of me was still tilting his neck somewhere within my mind, wondering about “how things came to this”.

Ever since around the time I had started working part-time in Ginza, I had no sense of reality. Not even about the fact that I would later be going to Sri Lanka. No, of course, I was fully ready and had a Visa, so I was in a phase where all I had left to do was get on the plane and I was making the oh-so-busy Richard help me out with that, but...

Richard took a sip of the salt-based soup with the china spoon, then glanced at me. “So you were not expecting anything from me, is that it?”

“No way. On the contrary.”

When I said that I just didn’t think he would give me the OK, Richard’s lips curved in the shape of an arc, and after looking for napkins on the table, he realized that there weren’t any, so he took a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his mouth.

“I value the accuracy of your palate. It is obvious that, if you have a shop you like, I would want to try eating there.”

“Thank you. And for remembering about it too.”

Soon after I had started working part-time, I was introduced to a stone called chrysoprase. I once laughed my butt off when I learned that the etymology of the fresh green-colored stone included the meaning of “leek” or “green onion”. The topic then changed into ramen, and we, the shopkeeper and part-timer who subtly had not yet thrown off reserve with each other, talked about liking green onion ramen, what kinds of toppings we preferred, and other such things. I had kind of thought that “it’d be nice to go have ramen with this guy someday”. Back then, to me, Richard was someone as far-off as the moon and stars that shone in outer space. Of course, he was still as resplendent as the moon and stars even now, but he didn’t feel as distant.

Once I was done drinking the soup up to it’s last drop, I heaved a small sigh. “That was delicious. Last time eating Japanese ramen and this one for a while, huh.”

“How about putting instant ramen in your suitcase?”

“I ain’t used to making those. I’m the type that goes out to eat ramen rather than making instant ones. But there’s curry roux inside. Weird story, isn’t it? I’m going to a curry culture zone, yet I’m taking curry with me.”

“Analyzing Indian and Sri Lankan curry by Japanese curry standards can cause serious stomach problems. Beware.”

I puffed out my chest, saying that I had properly prepared myself for this because he had already told me about it before, to which the beautiful man gave a little sigh.

“May I also talk about a truly serious topic?”

When I told him that didn’t mind it at all and that I wanted to hear it, Richard looked at my face directly. It made me nervous. What was he going to tell me, I wondered.

“I did not think that you would actually invite me out for ramen.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I honestly did not.”

“Why?”

As I kept on tilting my neck at that sentence, which you wouldn’t think would come from someone like him – who looked like just breathing was enough for him to get invited to eat out –, Richard spoke to me reticently. He told me that people were quick to come towards him, but there were also those who surrounded him from a distance, watching him without trying to shorten the distance between him and themselves. So this kind of thing also happened?

Looking back, I was also from the keep-a-distance group at first. But I sucked at giving up, and whenever something that made me happy happened, I would be overjoyed no matter how many times I remembered about it, so every time I recalled the chrysoprase talk, I would find myself thinking that I should invite him out for ramen. It just so happened that the desire for this “someday” had amplified as the number of times that I thought about it increased, and I had finally voiced it this spring.

The shop was tiny and had a bit of a mysterious scent, but it was truly delicious. It would be closing this spring. I was concerned about what to do if he declined it with an awkward face, but the response I got after speaking up was a “When will it be?” without a moment’s delay.

“Was it okay to have invited you?”

“What do you think?”

“Well, I was just thinking I was glad that I invited you, but...”

The reply was a short-range smile. That slightly tired face with no sense of uneasiness to it was bad for the heart. But I was gonna get used to it. I had to.

“Still, was it really all right? That I was the one you had a meal with for the last time at a shop that you have fond memories of, I mean. Would it not have been better to do so with the friends that you always ate with?” Richard asked.

Hmm. So he was gonna bring that up, huh?

“Well, well, thank you very much for your superb consideration. But I’m glad it was with you.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m glad it was with you. Not anyone else; with you.”

I had learned many lessons even in just four years of university, such as that things were shifting, everything kept changing over and over, the green onion ramen shop would be gone, I would be leaving for Sri Lanka in the near future and there was no telling how my life was going to be from now on. But this jeweler was a man who knew very well how to cherish a memory.

Only to people like that did I entrust the things I didn’t want to forget.

Bidding a courteous farewell to the elderly shopkeeper and old lady employee, we exited the shop. Cars rushed on the Yasukuni Avenue. Kasaba during holidays was so quiet that it felt like a different world. As the wind softly blew, the cherry trees planted along the street shook and their pale pink petals scattered about.

“That was delicious, huh~. You got any plans for later?”

“I am going to help Saul with chores. We are not boorish enough to engage in business talk after just eating ramen.”

I stole a peek at his profile as he started chewing on a mint gum. The beautiful man brushed cherry blossom petals off his golden hair. He offered me one of the white gums, asking if I wanted to eat it.

I probably wouldn’t forget this sight. Even if that ramen shop was gone, even if my address was no longer in Tokyo.

Richard tilted his head a little, as I was still staring at his face even after accepting the gum. “Anything the matter?”

“Aah, sorry. Your beauty was like you’ve come from another world, so I spaced out.”

I then changed the topic, saying I was going to think about what to have for dinner or something. There were still lots of shops that I wanted to visit while I was still in Japan, though they were all set-meal and chain ones. I didn’t think I was able to hide my melancholy, but he’d probably act like he didn’t see anything. I was grateful for that.

In the middle of our walk to the train station, I looked back at the cityscape one last time and wordlessly offered a moment of silence to it.

Thank you for everything; I’m off!

[thenovelartist]

A Blanc Slate, Chapter 4

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10. Cooking Together

Things with Adrien had been…oddly tense.

He felt even more closed off than normal. Marinette wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and say that it was just because the police and detectives had been showing up more frequently lately. After all, Gabriel’s death had been determined to be by trauma to the back of his head and not due to the burns or smoke inhalation, and therefore Adrien’s injuries became suspicious.

Adrien had confessed that his father and he did get into a physical altercation, but it had been in self-defense. Apparently, Adrien had had to face his father that day when he was finishing dragging the last of his belongings out of the house, and it had ended with them fighting in the main hall. Considering Gabriel had been found in his office, that already eased suspicion.

Secondly, Adrien swore hadn’t caused the injury to Gabriel’s skull. Adrien’s fist had apparently been broken when he threw a punch that landed on his father’s jaw, which had knocked Gabriel down so Adrien could run from the house.

His story should have left Adrien in the clear, but of course the investigation had to continue until everyone was convinced it could be closed.

While Marinette was certain this put an enormous amount of stress on Adrien, she knew the collapsing of his father’s company also had to play a part in his exhaustion. After all, Adrien was the one who had to deal with it, and she’d watched him work himself to the point of crashing out on his couch.

Maybe he had a good excuse after all for not calling Nino or Alya. He barely had time for himself.

Marinette, on the other hand, realized she’d grown too comfortable forcing herself into Adrien’s life. When she started this routine of hers, she’d initially tried to coax answers out of him or convince him to rely on his friends more. But after her last meeting with Chat over a week ago now…

She stayed quiet.

It wasn’t like Marinette believed that she was the only one at fault in that situation, but she also knew she couldn’t change Chat. The only thing she could change was herself, and when Chat had pointed out her micro-managing habits derived from her need to fix things, she couldn’t deny his words. Fixing things was what she did. It was a hard habit to break, but she would have to out of respect for the people she cared for.

So, she stopped trying to pry information out of Adrien, but she realized that not prying didn’t mean she had to stop reaching out for him. Which was why she’d started cooking for him and helping him clean his apartment while he dealt with things on the phone or emails or one of the plethora of other things that was on his plate.

She tried not to force conversation too frequently, and when they did chat, she let it flow naturally while trying not to purposefully pry. She was here to help, not to fix.

As hard as that was.

“Smells good.”

Marinette glanced up, only to see Adrien was now at her side. She gave him a smile. “You mentioned you liked this meal the last time you had it, so I thought I’d make it again.”

Absently, he nodded, staring down at the food in the pan. After a moment, he turned back to her. “Why are you doing this?”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I know you have to have better things to do than come play housewife for me.”

The heat that sprawled across her cheeks reminded her that her crush on this man still raged on. If her thirteen-year-old self could see her now, not turning into a complete and total bumbling spaz at the mere mention of the word ‘housewife’, she might die of shock. Even her current self was impressed that the most reaction he elicited from her was a blush.

But that might have to do with the fact her romantic heart had grown increasingly torn between him and another blonde man in her life.

She shrugged. “Because you’re my friend, and I care about your well-being.”

“Yeah, but… why? I’ve basically been shutting you out the last two weeks.”

“You’re stressed.”

“I know what I’m doing,” he grumbled, voice quiet as though chastising himself.

She could feel the guilt radiating off Adrien. They both knew this cold nature wasn’t his true character. Marinette was already willing to let it slide due to his circumstances, but the fact even he was willing to admit—albeit in a roundabout way—that his actions were wrong made Marinette all the more willing to forgive him. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll let it slide.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“You’re under stress. It’s not like you don’t have a reason.”

“No, it’s an excuse that still didn’t excuse the behavior you shouldn’t have to put up with.”

“Are you trying to say I shouldn’t bother with you?”

“Basically.”

The bluntness of his words surprised her. She stopped stirring the contents of the pan, turning her attention back to Adrien. “Why? Do you want me to stop?”

He paused, hesitating. “Yeah. You should.”

The words hurt, but there was something in his tone that prompted her to question, “Are you saying that because I’m bothering you? Or because you think you’re bothering me?”

He didn’t answer, the silence hanging in the air answering in his stead.

“You’re not bothering me,” she assured. “And unless you really want to be alone, please, stop pushing me away. I’m your friend, and I’m more than happy to do this.”

She went back to cooking, turning down the heat on the stove before she burned anything.

“What if I’m not as great as you think I am?”

Marinette turned her attention back to him, her brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

When she met Adrien’s gaze, those green eyes of his were somewhat softer than they had been. More open and raw, allowing her to see the extent of the pain he was in. It broke her heart that her immediate thought was his pain seemed to rival Chat’s. “What if I’m not the guy you thought you knew over the last few years?”

Marinette bit her lip, mulling over his words and how to respond to them. “Well… I can’t get to know you again if you keep pushing me away.”

The surprise in his eyes hurt, like he didn’t expect her to be so willing with a second chance. “What if you won’t like what you see?”

“That’s for me to decide, not you to decide for me.”

Again, a stretch of silence settled between them.

“Hey,” Marinette began again. “I know I shouldn’t pry, and if I am then tell me, but are you pushing us away for some reason? Maybe because you don’t think you’re worthy to be our friend?”

Adrien blinked, then turned away, seemingly unable to look at her.

Carefully, she reached out and lightly touched his shoulder, just as a reminder she was there. “We’re not going to abandon you, Adrien. Good people don’t just abandon their friends in the middle of trouble. And so, no matter what happened with your dad, we’re not going to leave you behind.”

“But why do you want to take on my shit?”

“Because that’s what friends do,” Marinette said. “Because humans are weird and decide that they enjoy the presence of certain people in their life enough that sticking around through the shit is worth it to keep that person around.”

“Even if that person isn’t the same person you once knew?”

“Yeah,” she easily said. “Besides, I know you’ll change and grow up, but I’ll bet that at heart, you’re still the same person we love.”

Adrien was silent for a long while, long enough for Marinette to finish cooking dinner. When she pulled out plates, Adrien took them from her.

“I’ll serve you tonight,” he said. “You can go have a seat. Thank you.”

With a smile, Marinette let him take the dishes. “You’re welcome.”

11. Take a Break

Marinette was sketching in her room when she heard a knock on her trap door.

At first, she thought she was imagining things, but when she heard the knock again, she was up like a shot. She flung open the trap door with a bang, shocked but thrilled to see Chat there, crouched before her so as to be on her level.

“Hey stranger,” she said with a wide grin she couldn’t tamp down.

He gave her a hint of a grin. “I’m not staying long. I’m just taking a little break from work and thought I’d come by to apologize for the last time I was here.”

Marinette frowned. “I’d like to apologize, too. You were right; I was being overly nosy. I do like fixing things, but I don’t have the ability to ‘fix’ you or force my help on you. Sorry.”

Chat shook his head. “I know you meant well,” he said. “I was being pretty nasty to you. A friend kinda made me rethink my behavior recently, so I’m sorry, too.”

With a smile, Marinette extended her hand. “Truce?”

When Chat glanced at her hand, Marinette felt a blush come to her cheeks. “Oh, um, I won’t try to drag you in or anything. But… uh… how about a fist bump?”

The smile that crossed Chat’s lips was small and sad. The first thing that came to Marinette’s mind was that she’d just reminded him of, well, her. Just her in spots. The “her” he was avoiding. And while it still killed her a little on the inside to not understand why, she knew she really couldn’t push it out of respect for him. Maybe he’d come to her, Ladybug her, when he was ready. She could hope, at least.

After a moment’s hesitation, he gently tapped her knuckles with his. Marinette had to bite back the ‘pound it’ that formed automatically on the tip of her tongue.

“Can I interest you in a cookie or two?” she asked instead. “I promise I won’t pry or anything.”

He shook his head and stood. “No, not today. I just wanted to swing by and apologize.”

Disappointing as it was, Marinette couldn’t complain considering that he took the time to come back again at all. “Do you think you’ll come back?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably not.”

“I’d be happy if you did.”

He turned to her, that tiny smile still on his lips. “Thought you said you weren’t going to try to ‘fix’ me.”

“I’m not ‘fixing’ you. I’m just offering you a happy place to hang out that serves cookies.”

He huffed, smile flashing brighter for a second. He still wasn’t back to the kitty she knew, but this was much better than before. “Noted. Thanks.”

12. Cuddles

It wasn’t that day that he swung by. Or the next. Or the day after that. But four days later, Chat did drop in on her balcony.

And Marinette was more than happy to see him. “Hey, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Terrible joke,” he brushed off, leaning back against her balcony railing.

She shifted in her chair so she could face him better. “I know. You’re the punny one of the two of us.”

He just shrugged.

“Well, since you’re here,” Marinette began, “want a treat?”

“Isn’t the saying ‘feed a cat, and it will keep coming back’?”

“Something along those lines,” Marinette said with a grin, standing from her balcony chair. “Anything you want in particular?”

“Something sweet that will make the ringing in my ears go away,” he said, his eyes closing and ears dropping with exhaustion. “I’ve been getting yelled over the phone at all day.”

With a sad nod, Marinette headed down the stairs to collect a chocolate pastry and bottle of water before slipping back up to the balcony to deliver it to Chat.

When he lit up at the sight of the pastry, Marinette could feel relief bubble up within her. This was her Chat, the one who loved food unlike anyone she’d ever met. Snacks and sweets had always been met with excited grins and sparkling eyes that could rival a cartoon character. Today’s reaction might not have been that extreme, but it was still there. Marinette would count it as a win.

“So, work’s hard?” she asked, plopping down on her chair again.

“Hellish like you would not believe,” he muttered, ripping off a bit of the pastry and popping it in his mouth.

“Sorry.”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I expected this. Sucks but whatcha gonna do?”

“Well, cuddles are out of the question, so I guess just feed you sweet things?”

Chat huffed a laugh, his smile the brightest it had been since turning into Chat Blanc. Marinette couldn’t help but grin wider at the sight. “I guess if you promise to feed me, I’ll come around again,” he said.

“I’d like that.”

He nodded before popping the last bite into his mouth. “Would you mind if I hung around here a bit? I just want to escape my phone and computer at the moment.”

“Stay as long as you’d like, Chat.”

He slid down to sit on the ground. “Appreciate that, Princess.”