#it’s in my blood and i grew up watching it

[svearehnn]

a raging storm | azriel x reader

Summary: Azriel always hoped it would be Elain; sweet, docile Elain. However, when the bond lit a fire between you and him, his cold demeanor set into place, pushing him away from you, and you did the same. Rhys sent the two of you on mission after mission together, hoping it would help in breaking down your walls, but the fire and ice that ran through your veins could never be quenched.

a/n: i know this is short, and i haven't finished the tarot readings i need to, but my relationship is falling apart at the seams and i needed some azriel angst to make me feel better :) so here you go, i hope your heart hurts.

warnings: angst, slight mention of blood

The firelight flickered, casting long shadows between the two of you in the small but cozy room. The sound of your blade sharpening against stone and the crackle of the fire filled the space, along with the palpable tension between you and the Shadowsinger. He stood by the window, eyes flickering to your hunched figure on the couch briefly before staring back out at the snowy abyss outside. Your motions grew reckless, the blade ringing in the air, your jaw clenched, eyes cold.

Your chest thrummed, begging you to move closer to Azriel, to pull him into your arms and soothe the tension that curled around his shoulders, but you stayed still. The bond between you felt like a chain, one that was bitten by cold fire, unwelcome. You knew he had hoped Elain would be the one, three sisters for three brothers, and it pulled a sour taste onto your tongue, one that you quickly swallowed down.

“I think your dagger is sharp by now.” His voice filled the quiet room, shadows darkening the already dim space as night threatened to take over. A soft growl sounded in your throat as you stopped your movements momentarily only to continue, this time faster, harsher. Your eyes narrowed in on the steel, watching as the light of the fire glinted off of the metal every time it shifted within your grasp. 

You heard him shift, wings rustling as he moved, his eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. The frustration in his gaze was building, his shadows twitching with agitation around his shoulders and about the room. You glanced up at him, cold fire dancing within your irises, teeth clenched as you glared at each other for a moment before you continued your heated task.

His eyes narrowed, fists clenching as you began hitting the dagger against stone with a renewed ferocity. “You’re going to hurt yourself,” he murmured in a low voice, deep in the back of his throat. His wings shifted, a tinge of warning building within the air. The shadows around him seemed to darken and twist, looming over you like a dark specter as the tension in the room rose to unbidden heights.

“Then I’ll hurt myself.” You grumbled, gripping the steel in your hand, knuckles turning bone white. You were lost in thought, not fully focused on the task at hand. He stepped closer, the air around you shifting, his fingers brushing against your leather-covered arm. You flinched slightly, the blade nicking the skin of your wrist. Blood bubbled up and trickled down as a shaky breath fell through your teeth, but you didn’t cease your movements, desperate to keep some sort of distance between yourself and the male before you.

Your name fell from his lips in a warning, his voice taut and deep with a pain that you couldn’t place. The floorboards creaked underneath him as he stepped closer. You could feel his breath against your hair, the strands fluttering softly, your body tensing at the proximity of him. The fire crackles and pops, sparks flying into the air, the light casting eerie silhouettes onto the ground behind him, making it seem like demons were dancing in the darkness alongside his shadows. You knew his gaze was on you, intense with anger and frustration, but you ignored his presence, ignored the blood dripping down your wrist as you continued to clash steel against stone.

“You need to calm down,” he growled low in his throat, his voice akin to the cold wind whistling outside in the frigid winter night. His fingers twitched, threatening to reach out and stop your incessant gesticulations. Your eyes snapped up to his, a glare permanent within them as he took a deep and steadying breath.

“I am calm.” You snarled, dagger clutched within your grip, the blood seeping down your wrist pulsing with its own rhythm, matching the beat of your heart. Azriel’s hazel eyes never leave yours, swirling with an unspoken promise. You glanced back down at the blade, pulling it away from the stone to inspect it. Your thumb runs against the edge of the steel. It was sharp, sharper than it had ever been before, slicing a shallow cut along the flat of your thumb, but you didn’t flinch. You set the dagger down on the table in front of you before picking up another and unsheathing it, eyes avoiding his as you began your ministrations once more. Shadows swirled in the corner of your vision, reaching out to comfort you, but never quite coming close enough to slide against your skin. You batted them away, sighing as the familiar ring of your blade filled the room, accompanying the soft roar of the fire.

Azriel’s gaze fixes on the dagger in your hand, jaw clenched, shoulders tensing. “You’re not calm,” he says softly, his voice like a gentle breeze that can’t quite dispel the storm raging within you. He sits down beside you on the couch, wings pulling into his back uncomfortably as you shuffle to the side furthest away from him, body curling in on yourself. His fingers flex into fists in his lap, the black tattoos on his skin pulsing with an otherworldly energy. 

“Talk to me.” His voice was barely above a whisper, almost lost amongst the sound of your blade. There was no anger in his tone, just desperation–concern as he tried to reach you before you fully succumbed into your own mind. The bond within your chest churned like a sickness, your eyes squeezing shut, air escaping through your teeth.

“And what should I say?” Your voice was deadly, venom snaking through the words, wrapping around him like a vice and squeezing viciously. The shadows around him seemed to stir, reaching out once more. This time they curled around you, the dark tendrils gently locking around your wrist, hiding the blood from sight with a cool whisper of air.

“Should I mention the carnage we just witnessed?” You murmured, the sound of your blade once again ringing through the air. “Or the fact that I can feel your ache for Elain, wishing to wrap her in your arms against your High Lord’s orders?” Azriel inhaled sharply, his chest constricting, the pain of your emotions washing over him even as you tried to keep them out of his grasp. 

Your name fell from his lips once more, quiet and sweet like honey, trying to draw you in like a fly to a spider’s web. You threw your dagger down on the table, it hitting the oaken wood with a resounding clang as you stood abruptly.

“Stop saying my name.” You seethed, eyes turning towards his with a menacing glare, water pooling within them even as you tried to blink the vulnerability away. “Once the snow stops falling, we are going back to Velaris.” Your words were finalized, chilling to the bone as you walked to the fire, standing before it, eyes mesmerized by the glaring light. You wrapped your fingers around your wrist, blood smudging, wincing at the sting of the cut, letting the pain ground you once more. Eyes shut tight, a tear fell down your cheek as you tightened the hold on your wrist painfully, your body shaking, adrenaline taking over. A shadow flew toward you, wiping the salty water from your cheek before you could back away from it. You shook your head as if that could rid you of the lingering chill Azriel’s shadow left.

You felt him move behind you, the warmth of his body encasing your back, his breath hot against your neck. “You need to quell this storm inside of you.” He whispered against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. The bond in your chest sung at the closeness of him, begging you, pleading with you to lean back into his embrace, but you wouldn’t give in, you couldn’t. 

“And why should I?” The words fell from your lips before you could stop them, your eyes heavy and lidded as they stared into the fire, searching for answers within the flames. “What if the storm is all I am? What if I am just fire and ice?” Your voice was cold, devoid of emotion, and you felt him flinch away from you, but he stayed put. He didn’t take a step back, even as you nailed your heart shut, sealed your soul away from the male behind you, your mate. 

“Then I will embrace the fire and the ice,” he whispered. You whirled to face him, his hazel eyes gazing into yours with an intensity that made you swallow deeply. He was searching your irises for something, watching the way they swirled with frosted emotion, trying and failing to break down the walls you had held up for years–the walls he had caused you to build.

“And if it’s too much?” You bite back, fury coating your words as you tilt your chin up, ragged breaths rising and falling in your chest. “Will you run back to sweet Elain, let her fill you up with honeyed-words and petaled smiles until you forget about me once more?” Azriel’s jaw ticks, brows furrowed at your harsh words even though he knew it was nothing but the truth lilting out of your lips.

He had never given you a chance, not even when you had stepped forward all those years ago, hand on your heart, eyes wide and vulnerable as you whispered those fated words that he had longed to hear for centuries. Azriel had turned you away, again and again and again. He had watched with cold detachment as you closed yourself off to him, to your friends, even to yourself. You became a shell of who you once were, that bond in both of your chests weakening, fraying. Yet here he was, trying, finally realizing that you were the one, that Elain was nothing more than a distraction from the fear of letting himself truly love you. Maybe he still had a chance, but maybe… maybe he didn’t. Perhaps it was too late.

“Your storm is all I crave,” he spoke, words full of conviction and desperation. “I will walk across hot coals, through raging winds, through bloodied battlegrounds just to reach you.” A shake of your head, a soft, sad smile. You take a step back, the warmth of the fire licking at your legs.

“Why the change of heart?” Your voice quivered, lips pursing as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall, tried to keep up those barriers that seemed to be crumbling down around you.

“I see you,” he murmured, reaching up a scarred hand to cup your cheek. You sighed, inadvertently closing your eyes and leaning into the touch. “I finally see you.” With a shake of your head you pull back, maneuvering around him, reaching the table and sheathing your sharpened daggers.

“Well,” you whispered, voice angelic against the clash of wind and looming fire, “you took too long.” With the finality of your words you glanced back at him one last time, a sorrowful smile pulling at your lips before you retired to your room, shutting the door softly. The bond thrummed once more in your chest, loud and incessant, and then it dimmed to a low dull. 

The storm had finally passed, but the damage it had caused was irreversible, and both of you could feel it in the silence of your souls.

[scribblesandink]

"Why shouldn't I? What do you mean by that? " She turned to Apollo, who was extremely still "What does he mean by that? "

Apollo didn't reply and his therapist spoke up

"I meant it was discussed before that he feels more comfortable discussing his true thoughts and feelings with Dionysus because he not only grew up with him, but because they have truly seen the worst of each other. Apollo feels as though if he shows you that, you will either leave or see him differently"

"I watched him beat the shit out of my mother and nearly killed his father to protect me, I've seen him covered in blood, I've seen him completely break down because it rained for a few days in a row. What could he possibly show me that would make me leave after all of that? "

Apollo had slipped his hand from hers without her noticing, too distracted by her ranting. His nails dug into his skin as blood dripped down his wrist. His eyes were dead

Do you think covid existed in the Season? Do you think that for 2020-2021 Zeus couldn't host two Seasons. He had to wait until 2022 when restrictions finally lifted?

I'm gonna assume that covid didn't exist for my own sanity

[mistywaves98]

SCUMMY NERD SCARA >>>

🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐 SUCH A STALKER OUR STALKER AND GOSH WHEN HE FINDS OUT HIS BULLY (US) IS PURE OH OH HES FERAL <3333

I had this in the works for months... And I just can't bring myself to actually finish it 😭 So forgive me for this being a total unfinished cliffhanger..

✧･ﾟ:* ->Loser Nerd! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Sub! Reader, Don't question the lame plot, Just a lot of touching, No penetration, It's unfinished 😭!

Scaramouche felt his whole world become brighter after stumbling across the fact that you were a virgin. By totally normal means and definitely not because he was eavesdropping on a conversation you had with your friends. Now instead of this (mildly) intimidating woman that (tried) to make his life hell, he merely saw a pure girl that was just waiting for someone to taint her mind and pussy. And that person was definitely going to be him.

You were giving him a hard time as usual in the dorm you two were doomed to share, almost yelling at him for making the dinner he offered you too hot. He didn't mind the shouting really, if anything he was getting a tent in his pants from the frown on your face. You had no idea how fuckable you looked at that moment, and the fact you never had sex kept going through his mind, urging him to act on his desires.

Which he did. Walking up to you, he got closer and closer till he had you pinned against the counter. The mix of confusion and slight fear on your face as your arguing grew quieter made him smile as he leaned in till your noses brushed each other. His voice was low and sultry, leaving no doubt as to what his intentions were,"You're so worked up over what we'll eat... What if we just had each other for dinner?"

You were completely taken aback by his sudden suggestion but once the realization set in, a dark blush which he found absolutely adorable exploded across your face as you pointed an accusing finger at him, immediately throwing insults his way and calling him a dirty-minded pervert and other names of such nature. They only had the opposite effect, making him more determined as he suddenly shut you up with a kiss, pushing your bodies together and grinding his clothed erection against your thigh.

Your eyes widened, but you didn't pull away, hands flying up to hold his shoulders as his tongue slithered its way into your mouth, making you moan. This increases his confidence as his hands slid under your loose top to push your bra up so he could grope and knead your soft breasts. The stimulation makes blood rush to your clit, making it throb. After a long little make out, Scaramouche pulls back, admiring the way your face flushes as you pant,"You look so cute, you know that? So breedable, makes me wanna impale that virgin pussy with my cock.."

His bold words nearly make you choke on your own saliva, but he doesn't give you a chance to answer as his hands are already slipping into the waistband of your panties. You inhale sharply as his fingers find your clit, rubbing and rolling the sensitive bundle of nerves between the pads of his finger tips. His eyes gleam as he watches you struggle to keep your composure, hips bucking against his hand as soft whimpers slipped through your lips.

By the time he removes his hand, his digits are covered in your arousal. The sight makes him blank out for a moment, simply staring at the way the slick drips from them. In return you get embarrassed at the way his shameless ogling despite the throbbing in your lower region,"Scara...don't ignore me..." Your voice breaks him out of his trance and he almost laughs at the need in your voice. So adorable, begging for his attention like that.

Scaramouche thinks he'll go insane if he doesn't get a taste of your pussy right here, right now, so his hands are quick to remove your pants and soaked panties. He almost drools at the sight of your dripping pussy laid bare for him, his cock throbbing against the confines of the denim material of his jeans, urging him to undo the zipper. He pulls his boxers and jeans down just enough to let his dick spring free, the impressive length making your eyes widen slightly. How are you going to fit something of that size??

As if reading your mind, Scaramouche brings up a hand to cup your cheek, thumb soothing the soft skin,"Don't worry, I'll be gentle... At first, anyway."

[rebelssvy]

the other woman

bakugo x reader, bkdk

⋆·˚ ༘ *

katsuki yearning for izuku but he’s also like with you idk !!!

-this was sick im ill ✧.*

LABELS: sad. cry. agnst. bakugo is deep down into izuku but he’s married to you.

“your dripping blood on my carpet katsuki!” you screamed at him.

he was your husband, a well known hero ranking twelfth on the charts. and being so high up you would think he would have more common sense then to come home from a raid all bruised up.

it was far too late. the house was far too dark. the tension grew with each passing second.

“i’ll just get a new one.” he muttered out.

he seethed with his words. talking like a brat not getting his way.

“come again?” you said walking up to him. you were so fed up with this.

he would come home, psychically. but mentally he wasn’t there.

he hadn’t been here since izuku turned down a position and his agency.

“I SAID ILL- i’ll just get a new one.” he started angry, yelling. but at the end of the sentence he shifted. there was still fire under his words. but there was somthing else.

you just stared at him. watching him. he was gorgeous. blood slowly oozing out of his scrapped knees. eyes puffy, charred smoke remains all around him. as beautiful as he was he looked utterly exhausted.

you hated seeing him like this. a man so strong,… so broken.

you hadn’t noticed untill you heard him sniffling. looking up at him, he started crying.

you felt sympathetic for him. you loved him more then anything in this world. you hated to see him cry. and you hated thinking your the one that started his tears. you hated knowing deep down you were his second choice.

you walked over to him, the blood dripping from his body amounting in a small circle on the ground.

taking ahold of his hand, he turned to you. you saw how puffy his eyes were the tears streaming down his face. he was crying.

you embraced him in a hug. one that you cherished. you felt his body turn to mush around you. his cried would grow, turning into sobs.

“i miss him babe… i- i missss himmmhm” he sobbed into your shoulder. his tears drenching your shirt.

you knew what he meant…right? he misses his best friend. but he’s not dead..? he’s just not around.

…would he cry over me like this?

you thought to yourself. you didn’t know. you didn’t know if he would spend the time of day moping around like he did for izuku.

you felt his weight slowly press down on you, his knees buckling in agony.

you were sure the fight had took a tole on his body. you were also sure the missing presence of deku also took a toll on him.

it was quiet, dark. you stared at the small pool of blood beneath you.

“i just want him…” he cried out.

you wondered how he meant that sentence the rest of your life.

·:*¨༺ ♱���♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

- bruhhh was this good idk. i feel like the idea was there but idk IM OVERTHINKINGGG HELP

[bun-nny-nny]

Okay, so I got a new lip tint, and I'm having some very nsfw thoughts

Kissing and giving Si a bj while wearing a glossy liptint, but his dick gets stained for a bit 🤭 even better if it's one of the plumping liptints >:3

~💋 [Can I be 💋 anon?]

YES HELLO SWEET ANON i apologize to all of you its taking me so long to respond so much going on this past week my first ever anon with a emoji YIPPIE! bUT THIS IS SO GOD DAMN GOOD i love a good liptint i personally use this one that looks like blood i bet you look to die for in that liptint ANYWAY a lil somethin for ya NSFW MDNI

Simon definitely has a thing for lips; maybe it's because his are dry and scar-covered, but he LOVES seeing your lips all nice and soft, even lovingly putting chapstick on you no matter where you are. His favorite pastime is holding your chin between his fingers. He uses his thumb and pointer finger to squish your cheeks lightly, making your pretty lips pout for him as he applies your favorite flavor. So when you come home one day from the mall with a small bag in hand with a name he recognizes, excitement courses through him immediately. He follows you like a guard dog throughout the house as you climb the stairs to your bedroom. He's right behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body hovering behind you perfectly. "I got a new lip tint today," you chirp as his hands reach your hips. Without looking at him, you could tell he was grinning, knowing exactly where this was heading. It doesn't take much longer till you are sat between his massive thighs, his pants and boxer pulled down enough to let his cock free, leaking from its pretty reddish tip aching for your attention, but Simon ignored it for now, he was too busy looking at your sweet face as he slowly spread the wand of the lip tint applicator against your bottom lip letting out a pleased groan as he watched the shimmery light pink liquid coat your soft lips. "There we go...look a' that...so pretty... spread it around your lips for me, " says Simon in that deep, husky voice that makes your heart flutter. You obey immediately, letting him watch as you press your lips together, letting the glittery pink substance stain the rest of your lips, giving them a lovely crepe pink. His honey-brown eyes never left your lips, and a soft groan pulled from his as he watched you smile up at him. One of his hands went to your chin, making you sit up on your knees, nice and ready for him. he slaps his thick cock against your cheek a few times, watching as his precum sticks to your face letting the needy tip run from your cheek to your cute lips. his breath hitching as he rubbed his cock head against your bottom lip, watching as the glossy gel coated his member. "open that mouth for me, love." Immediately you obey, parting your lips, letting your tongue stick out just like he likes letting the tip of his cock rest gently against the flat of your tongue, adoring the way your drool pools in your mouth. Slowly, his fingers lace through the locks of your hair, nails lightly digging into your scalp, making you let out the soft, sweet moans he loves so much. Your soft gloss-covered lips slowly warp around his bulbous head, making a breathy groan rip out of him as his eyes shut, taking in the feeling of your wet, warm cavern suckling and licking at his tip, his grip on your head tightening. Slowly his hips start to move, rocking in and out in small short thrust, inching more and more of his enormous cock past your pink lips watching as the lip tint spread over his shaft, coating it in a sticky, glittery pink liquid. he let out moans through gritted teeth as his eyes opened, watching as his cock became covered, your plush lips swallowing his member, letting it slide down your throat with a cough and a gag. You eventually grew more used to it, letting yourself breathe through your nose. With a rough thrust, he finally buried himself deep down your throat, holding your head down so your face was buried in the thick hair that lay at the base of his member, taking in his musky scent. The sight of your lips wrapped fully around his cock as your eyes welled with tears and the makeup smeared and coated his hair. He was panting out of breath, taking in your disheveled form as you focused on not choking. "What a good fucking job you're doing, love. Your pretty mouth is always so good for me."

this is all i could do!!!!! >.<

[marypsue]

I was asked for recommendations because of this post, and here are a handful:

The Wicker Man (1973): The quintessential folk horror viewing experience, this movie is exactly as good as everybody always says it is. The soundtrack alone is worth the watch. Has a Wonderland-esque quality, where the main character is thrust into a world where everything he thinks he knows is turned topsy-turvy, and everybody around him seems to be determined to irritate and confuse him into an early grave. If you haven't been spoiled for the ending yet, try not to be before you give it a watch.

House / Hausu (1977): This movie was made in Japan, so most people call it Hausu, but the title card styles it as 'House' in English and has a voiceover that says "House!" at the same time. This is a surrealistic, almost cartoony psychedelic trip of a movie, where characters are named after the archetypes they fall into and special effects are added with hand-drawn animation onto film. Starting out like a parody of slice-of-life high school dramas and quickly getting weird with it, it could be silly and campy, and in some places it is, but I also found it creepy and psychologically unsettling in a way that sneaks up on you and gets right under your skin.

Halloween (1978): John Carpenter's original is a classic for a reason. Unlike many entries in the inescapable trend for masked killers cutting up co-eds that it inspired, this one is a moody, atmospheric, tense suspense thriller broken up by sharp, sudden explosions of violence. This is one of my all-time favourite horror movies and one that I go back to over and over.

Suspiria (1977): This movie is a candy-coloured confection of spun-sugar broken glass, cotton-candy razor wire, and raspberry-syrup blood. The aggressive use of the Goblins' creepily enchanting theme song nearly made me turn this one off in the first few minutes, but I stuck with it and I'm so glad I did. This is one you want to watch if you're looking for a Grimm fairy tale updated into the modern day (in 1977), built around a series of baroque and dramatically stagey murders.

The Haunting of Julia / Full Circle (1977): 1977 was, apparently, a good year for horror. The Haunting of Julia, or Full Circle, depending on the country of release, is a psychological ghost story with an absolutely gorgeous set and soundtrack. Is Julia really being haunted by a ghost, or just her own guilt? By the end of the movie, you may still not know for sure. This one is truly a horror movie for those of us who grew up on the 90s A Little Princess and The Secret Garden movies. (Just bear in mind that the abdominal thrust manoeuvre for helping choking victims, popularised by Dr. Henry Heimlich, wasn't common public knowledge until after an info campaign in the early 80s.)

Let's Scare Jessica To Death (1971): This is such a surreal nightmare of a movie that in the end, you may end up questioning whether any of the violence actually happened, or whether its perpetrator was really who it seemed to be. Don't go into this one for the plot (it doesn't make a whole lot of sense), go into it for the imagery and the slow ominous rising dread (and the possibility of ancient immortal vampires).

I've also got Valerie and Her Week of Wonders (1970) and Nosferatu the Vampyre (1979) on my list to watch.

There's something about seventies horror that reminds me of live theatre, actually. The sets and costumes are often cheap, and when it comes to period pieces, more 'inspired by' than accurate; the makeup is big and visible; even when the effects are really good, the blood is usually unnaturally red. The acting tends toward the broad and stagey.

And yet, it's also clear that realism is not the goal. Rather, the movie works to draw you in to a unified fiction, to get you to share in its nightmare. The best seventies horror I've seen has a dreamlike, Vaseline-lensed quality, a sense that it doesn't matter whether or not everything that happens in the movie is likely or even possible in real life. We've stepped outside of real life into a self-contained bubble with its own logic and its own sense, a dark fairy tale where the corpses of young girls might transmute into hares or eternally hungry floating heads, or the night of All Hallows might summon a stalking, unkillable masked evil from the past, or a ballet studio might be entirely controlled by witches. Even the lowest-budget, most exploitative Hammer flicks don't escape the touch of that dreaminess, that velvety, enfolding unreality. The movie suggests a world, and we, if we are wise, gladly succumb to the power of that suggestion.

[notlhecxzsa]

It Still Hurts Underneath My Scars - N.R

Summary: Natasha was supposed to go home, but what happens when she unveils something—hidden deep beneath those smiles, making her also run right back to the past. Will this turn out well for both of them?

Author's Note: Ahhh this is a hot 4k+ word and just like what I said, here comes all the angst I could give the world.

Warning: Yelling, broken glasses, cursing, so mean!natasha, crying, blood, injuries, bruises, trauma, poor sad baby Y/n (she deserves every good thing in the world, yes.) Tell me if I missed something!

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

3rd Person's POV:

Natasha woke up at the faint sound of metal clashing onto the ground, with eyes snapping open and body sitting up straight immediately she quickly withdrew a gun inside the small table beside her bed. With steps cautious and quick, she approached the door and quietly opened it. As another clanking of two or more heavy material, she approached the kitchen where the sounds are coming from.

Maybe, it was coincidental or maybe the time is just in the mood for games that Natasha was not prepared for. With her gun pointed to the culprit of the sound, it was faced directly to the younger one's figure, if she was to pull the trigger she would hit bullseye, that's for sure.

With 2 pairs of wide eyes, one with shock and the other with a noticeable fear, Natasha pulled down her gun, her facade straightening up while Y/n stayed staring. The tremble of her chest as she took deep breaths—too deep breaths for Natasha's liking can be noticed from afar.

"What the hell are you doing? I thought someone had broken in." She did not intend for it to come out so harshly, but the unsettling feeling in her chest is just so hard to ignore. What even is it? Fear? Anger?... Worry?

She walked towards the counter, putting down the gun as she watched as the gaze of the small girl seemed stuck with a glue on it. She didn't know what pushed her to hide it away, putting it on her waist, tucking it in on her pants, away from eyes that seemed to be going through a thousand miles.

There was a moment of silence, Natasha almost felt the unsettling rumble in her stomach overtake her being. So, she decided to speak up once again, "I asked you a question." Rounding up the counter to get a glass of water, she saw just how much mess has been made.

A broken mug with spilled coffee, clattered empty pot and a pan, there's also some water splattered around the girl's feet. A deep frown settled on her face as she looked up once again to gaze at Y/n's face, trying to search for her eyes but found nothing when she saw that she was looking down.

"I-... I di-... I'm so- I'm so sorry... I don't- I didn't mean to... W-Wait..." Crouching she immediately touched the pot and the pan, one hand each. And each hand, Natasha could visibly see how much it trembled, the pump of her chest now more seen by the naked eyes.

As the young woman moved around, giving Natasha a glimpse of the distressed face she was wearing. This is the first time that Natasha had seen her with that kind of expression, in this type of condition, but she was stuck on her own feet as she watched.

She watched as she picked the shards of sharp glass off of the floor with her bare hands, making Natasha's eyes widen in fear as the worry in her chest grew, now having a clear understanding she was feeling.

"Wait! Stop that." Launching forward, she took a hold of both of the thin arms that are covered with sleeves, one of the many long sleeves that Y/m wears.

As soon as her hands got in contact with Y/n's forearm and and upper arms, Natasha pulled her upwards. With a force applied and the grip she that the older woman has on her, Y/n's face scrunched bitterly as she yelped. Her hands flapped up and tried to pull her body away from Natasha.

"Ah!" It went unnoticed by Natasha who seemed to be in trance, getting Y/n out of the surrounded glasses. "N-Natasha..." Tears pricked her eyes as she looked up, her body being manhandled away from the scene while Natasha's gaze was stuck on the ground, observing the trail of glasses, water and coffee in order to get the younger woman in her arms to safety.

Biting her lips, tears swam around her eyes before it ran down on her cheeks. "Are you an idiot? You can't fucking pick up those glass with your hands! You will hurt yourself. Are you even thinking?" Blurting out words she didn't think of, words out of the raging storm in her mind, blinding her from the way Y/n kept flinching on her grip.

Y/n could feel a faint taste of rusty blood on her lips with how much she's biting down so hard in it. Her whimpers drowned out by the scolding she's receiving as the hold reminded her of something familiar.

Soon enough she was settled down beside the counter, far from the chaos and mess she made. Her form trembled as her breathing became ragged. Her arms ached, she could feel the blood rushing inside the bruises that littered around her body. She couldn't even find enough courage to move and help Natasha out who swept the glass and wiped the substance on the floor.

She's supposed to clean that up! She messed up so bad, and she knows it. The aching arms are quickly forgotten when fear starts to overcome her mind, spreading like a poison ivy. With tears flooding her cheeks, she bent down and started picking the broken glass that was near her, flinching when it cut right through her skin.

"Y/n!" Natasha watched as the young woman continuesly pick up the glasses with trembling hands. One hand kept picking it all up while the other holds the shard of glasses—she wasn't holding it, she was gripping it. "Hey! Y/n!" Stepping forward, she took a hold of the petite body once again, never missing how it tensed under her touch, making her almost pull away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please, don't- don't hurt- No, no, no..." Natasha heard the whispers that came out of her mouth, making her frown go deeper as she pulled them up together. She felt Y/n trying to pull her arms away, so she gripped tighter. "No!" It came out meekly, a small high pitched voice.

"Hey..." That must have been the softest voice that came out of Natasha ever in her life. Finally realized just how much mess and chaos has been done, not just in her kitchen floor, but to Y/n. "Hey, hey, hey..." She walked the two of them towards the other side of the kitchen island, her grip softening as one of her hand snaked around Y/n's waist.

"Please... don't hurt me... I'll clean it up... good- I'll be good." At the sound of her voice, Natasha could feel her knees weakening for unknown reason.

"What?- I- I won't hurt you." Analyzing the angelic face of Y/n, she couldn't help but notice the distant gaze she has and seemingly to in some kind of trance.

Looking down, she caught the sight of Y/n's shaking hardened fist, then up to her chest that jumps up and down hysterically, just then she noticed how ragged her breath is. "Hey, breath. It's okay, it's all fine..." Her hands seemed to have its own brain as it automatically cups her cheeks, trying to trap her gaze into hers. "Y/n, detka, hey, I'm not mad, it's okay. The mess is cleaned up already, hey..." Seeing the irises of her eyes moving side by side hysterically, Natasha realized that she can't see clearly, along with the tears in her eyes.

With her vision unfocused, her ears only ringing, Y/n could feel her blood running cold as she tried to catch her breath. There was a pressure on both of her face but she couldn't feel it properly, she doesn't know what it is. God, she can't have another meltdown here, not when she's just new here. Natasha might think of her weirdly, she might even get more angry.

"Hey, Nat?- What-" Natasha's head whipped around to see Maria standing by the kitchen hallway. Was she that too caught up with the girl in front of her that she did not notice the other presence breaking inside of her penthouse? No, she couldn't be. "What happened?" With worry evident in her voice, Maria rushed to their side, her hand reaching out to touch Y/n's lower back.

Natasha has her locked up in her arms, so Maria couldn't really do anything much. With both of Natasha's hand caging Y/n's small body, she pulled her in even more. There was a sudden click inside her that made her pull her in, she doesn't know if it was because of the worry i side of her growing or maybe the way Maria had reached out for her girl.

"Maria, get the aid kit inside the bathroom. Also get some towel and a bowl of water." Natasha's voice commanded before bending down to pick up the girl in her arms bride style, realizing that she wouldn't be walking.

Maria immediately ran to get what was needed, looking down at the mess that was made on the kitchen floor, she frowned and started pondering or what had happened. Then suddenly, flashes of the bruises she saw on Y/n's arms blinded her thoughts, clenching her jaw she imagined the worse.

The was Natasha was gripping her, holding her tightly did not sit right as she thought of it right now. The way she overtowered the small girl as Y/n trembled in fear. Fuck, Natasha couldn't be...

"Hey, let me get that..." As soon as she set Y/n down on the couch, she take a hold of her fisted hand that is still holding the pieces of sharp glass tightly.

Holding it gently in her hands, she caught a glimpse of something as the sleeves of Y/n's clothing hike up. Frowning, she reached forward and pull it up even more out of curiosity. Blood drained her face as the bruises that littered around it became visible in her eyes. Her hold on her earlier couldn't have done that, no. It is clear that it is made days or weeks ago.

Averting her focus back on getting the glasses out of Y/n's hands, she felt her heart started to pump faster. She hated it. She shouldn't be feeling like this, no, she can't feel like this.

"Here..." Without looking up, she took the kit from the hands of her friend and started tending on Y/n's hand, now in complete silence as her mind ran miles.

What is there that she still doesn't know?

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Maria's POV:

"You're still here." I turned to see Natasha walking towards the railing of her balcony, gazing towards the scenery in front of us, not bothering to throw me even just a glance.

I looked back to where I was staring, inhaling a pound of air before letting it all out. "Your actions opposes the assumptions I have in my mind." I started, just then, I felt her eyes burning holes on the side of my head. "You're not..." I gulped down an invisible ball of saliva in my throat. "You're not the one who did those to her, did you, Natasha?" Catching her eyes, a frown started forming her face before her stance became tensed.

A reaction I knew all too well. But, not what I expected to receive with this topic.

"What?" She asked and I could hear the pure confusion lacing through her voice. A sound that demands an immediate and straight answer. I looked away and started answering.

"The last time I was here. I saw her arms. Beaten. Raw. I'm starting to thinking it's all over her body, I also... thought that it was you." I looked back to her face when I saw it snapped to look inside the penthouse. A faint glitch in her facade that she only wore when we thought her father had found out about her hidden treasures. Fear. Worry. "After earlier, I saw... I saw how you cared for her, Natasha-" I almost jumped at the sound of her voice.

"I didn't." I shook my head and chuckled lowly, bending down and putting both of my elbows on the railing. How I could see right through her.

"I wouldn't blame you for starting to feel like this. I watched you, Natasha." Turning only my head to look at her, a knowing glint shining in my eyes as her gaze locked in mine. Showing her that I know, and she doesn't have to hide it.

No matter how much she wants to, no matter how much she needs to. No matter how much she will deny.

"Just like how you watch her."

I waited... and waited. But, a response never came. Sighing, I stood up straight. Turning my whole body towards the sliding door but made no move to approach it. "I care for her..." I started, once again. "Not the way you do, of course." Just then, it all came down to me just how much I got so attached to this girl, how much her attentiveness and hospitality had made my heart moved like no one. Clint's right, we're all really getting soft because of her. "She's a sister I have never had. Tell me what you want me to do, I will help you. I will bring what you need, and I will come wherever you want me to be."

Still, I was met with silence. Clearing my throat before sighing, I started walking towards the door.

"Hill." Now, that's what I was looking for.

Looking back, I catch the fire in her eyes even though her face is stone cold. I knew by then, it will catch up to those who have sinned.

"I want everything." She said in a monotone, with her jaw clenched, she turned around and I was faced with her back.

I nodded, even though she couldn't and wouldn't see me. "You got it, boss." I said before stepping inside the penthouse, my eyes immediately locking in on the figure that is sat on the farthest edge of the couch, as if it will ground her—protect her from everything.

I analyze her body for a minute, she doesn't have her socks on as usual, making me catch a glimpse of a faint bruise that is long but not deep from what it looks like. Taking a deep breath, I decided to go, taking a last look on her face, staring into nothingness with seemingly no thoughts behind her eyes.

God knows what is unleashed.

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(Flashbacks) 3rd Person's POV:

A giggled escaped the 13 year old girl as she read a book that was given to her by Lucille. Something funny had happened on the character that made her stomach tingle and let out a giggle, unaware of the pair of eyes that is burning holes in the whole of her body.

Just as she let out another giggle, the sound of a gun booming that is all to familiar to her ears went off, making her jump with no sound escaping her lips. Just like what Lucille had thought her, no noise means less hits. As her heart raised, beating faster, she stood up, leaving the book on where she was sitting, with a promise to get it back later before running off inside the huge mansion.

The same pair of eyes followed her, a knowing glint of who she was, the same pair of eyes that studied her dull life but found it the most interesting. Walking towards the huge tree, under the shade of it is where she took the book. Knowing that her Dad is enjoying his time with their family's friend, she knew they wouldn't even notice that she's gone, too busy playing with different guns.

She studied the surroundings and did not wonder just how much Y/n loves it here. She remembered the time she met Y/n here, she remembered that the young girl was still 3, munching on a cookie that looks like she will be killed if she was found eating it.

"Hey..." An 8 year old Natasha spoke, a certain softness present in her voice.

The little one jumped, dropping the cookies as she did so. Those cute chubby cheeks with some crumbles of cookies made Natasha want to pinch it. She looks angelic, Natasha wondered if maybe, they do hide angels around here because she certainly just met one.

"I not eat the tookies!" The visible lisp came out, making a smile break through Natasha's face. With those frowning small eyebrows, Natasha could feel her stomach doing flips because of the cuteness.

"But, you did." Natasha started, smiling teasingly as she walked closer. "And you have cookies all over your face." Natasha explained, her hands going to her hips, just like what she sees on her father.

"I didn't..." Smearing her small hands on her face didn't do her any good, as now her face is more covered in crumbles and a faint chocolates here and there. "See? You ate the tookies! Maybe..." A laugh broke from Natasha, even as a mere child, she's never the one to laugh a lot. Hearing the unbelievable assumption that has been made towards her made her surrender in defeat—once again, something she does not usually do.

"Okay, then. Whatever you say... cookie monster." She said before she saw Y/n smile—a name she discovered from her parents. "Would you like to play?" She asked, observing how Y/n looked down at the cookies that fell earlier with somber eyes.

Natasha felt bad, knowing that she accidentally scared her and now she doesn't have anything to eat. "No, Lutcy will be mad if I get dirty. I won't get more tookies." She explained, and Natasha smiled.

As if she didn't eat one already.

"I'll give you more cookies! We have so many at home." Natasha said, making the small girl snap her head up at her.

"Weally?" A toothy grin made its way on her face, making Natasha smile unconsciously and nodded. "Otay, but- but we gotta make- we gotta bring Tammy along with us... he gets very lonely." The small girl almost scream in excitement, Natasha only nodded before she followed the little one.

Following the 13 year old girl, her steps in track and with a certain speed to catch up. There were a couple of turns until she was met with the end of a hallway. Clutching the book in hand she approached the slightly ajar door.

She stood there, frowning when she tried to listen to the other side of it and was met with silence. She was sure Y/n had ran in here, catching a glimpse of her hair as she went running inside. Her hands reach out to knock, but then again was met with nothing, only a faint shuffling that reassured her someone was inside.

Breathing deeply, she push the door, it was a tight space, a storage room, yet it is clean. As soon as the door is wide enough, she saw the trembling form of a girl. She observed how her shoulder heavied with each breath she took.

"Were you scared?..." Natasha started, gazing at the way the younger one's head popped up to look at who followed her. "By the guns, I mean." Natasha noticed how tears are brimming up in her eyes—those same eyes she never once forgot.

The same ones that haunted her in her sleep.

Receiving no response, she took a step forward before crouching in front of the girl. "You left this." She raised her hand and offered her the book, which was immediately taken by the girl. Just then, Natasha noticed the gauze wrapped up around her arm, more bruises surrounding it that is mixed of color green and purple.

Frowning, she looked at the girl's eyes, only to find it gazing at the book, avoiding her look. "What happened to you?" She could remember those other times she met the girl, the same color littering her body, the same condition designed her skin.

Finally, their eyes met, but only a shake of a head is what she received as another faint gun shot rang in the atmosphere making the girl jump from where she was sitting and pushed herself further on the wall. Natasha, without flinching, as if the sound puts her to sleep at night, turned her body and pushed the door close.

Turning back, she sat on the floor, offering a small smile. "Don't worry, you won't get hurt." Noticing the way Y/n's eyes kept looking back at her and the door. "You won't hear it anymore. If you still do, you just go like this..." Putting her hands on both of her ears, Natasha simulated what should be done.

Only gazing at the red head, Y/n felt a certain familiarity with her face. She was the kid of those friends of her parents that would come and go here. But, still, shying away from the girl in front of her, Y/n knew very little of socializing—experiencing it scarcely.

Seeing uncertainty swimming around the doe eyed gaze of the younger girl in front of her, Natasha went forward, putting her own hand on Y/n's ears that are covered by her hair. With the space between them almost closed, Natasha could finally analyze the face that kept chasing her waking hours.

Natasha does find her beautiful—ethereal even, but she has no explanation as to why she feels this way—remembering the young one this way.

"Do you hear anything?" Natasha felt the shake of her head, their eyes staying lock in each other's. "That's good..." Natasha said before pulling away and going back to sit on the floor, now with a much more closer distance with the girl.

It was like a magnetic pull that keep wanting her to get closer and closer. She doesn't know what it is, yet she did not fight against it. It feels just right.

"Are you going to stay here?" Natasha asked, the girl did not answer, only keep looking at Natasha now with eyes full of curiosity and familiarity. "We can stay here—I can stay here with you." Natasha said, before her eyes dropped down to look at the movement of the girl's lips. She's smiling, Natasha thought, but only a little.

In the moment, both of their hearts grew, sitting in silence, hidden from the world that is destined to break and make them.

(End of Flashback)

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Natasha's POV:

I stood in the kitchen, looking over at the girl that is sat in the living room. I opened the television when I went inside from the balcony, seeing how eerily quiet here—the same noise the surrounded the atmosphere before Y/n started living here.

I was supposed to leave and go to the manor today, but something just keeps me from going. Something is grounding me from walking right through the door and get back with my life.

"What did you want to say? Make sure to not waste my time." I sneered at Yelena as we stood in the building's parking lot.

"Father's plans changed—I shouldn't be telling you this, but..." Gazing straight into my sister's eyes, I knew she wouldn't keep something from me. "I though I should let you know." Crossing my hands, I gave her my full attention.

"The wedding's not gonna happen..." I frowned, my insides shaking with something I can't put a finger to. Searching for any lies in her eyes, she explained further, "But, everything is still going. The marriage..." My shoulder visibly relaxed, I doubt that she did not notice it, seeing the way her eyes went on my sides, a knowing glint in her eyes as it reach my gaze. "... it's all settled in the paper..." She trailed off.

"Hmm?" I raised an eyebrow, urging her to continue.

"Papa discussed something with Y/n's parents, I didn't hear much but what I know is that after everything, they will be cutting Y/n off of their will... you will have it all." My frown deepened, my chest tightening with something I can't name.

"What the hell do you mean about that? What? Are they going to just throw her away like she's not their daughter?" I blurted out, Yelena's lips turned up a little—damn it, Natasha, get your shit together.

"She's just simply the paper in between their business, Natasha. After the marriage, you and I both know she's nothing to father..." She started. "...and to her parents... I don't really know, but that is the only thing I've heard. After that, I think it's up to you whatever happens to her... she'll be your wife...on paper, at least." She searched for something in my eyes, something I'm unsure of.

I have never felt so out of control. I couldn't control the thoughts and feelings circling around my insides. I couldn't even begin to figure it out.

"And you and I both know she means nothing to you..." She started, making my eyes dart straight into her eyes.

My face hardened, not letting her show a bit of emotion.

"Isn't that right?..." She asked, and I could tell the slightly visible teasing tone lacing through her voice. "Natalia?-"

"Shut the fuck up before I make you." Surging forward, I pushed her, making her tumble, if it weren't for the car behind her she would've fly down to the floor.

She chuckled lowly. "I still haven't met my future sister-in-law, when can I visit her-" My hand immediately reach out roughly and punch her on the cheek, making her tumble on the side.

"I won't let her near you—all of you." I gritted through my teeth. She knew about it. She's hitting all of my soft spot, and she might be the one whom I call my best friend before, telling her everything, but not anymore.

Not after she chose to stay with our parents when I offered her the chance to run away with me and build a new life.

"Even after all these years, Nat?" She asked, looking to side as if her face got locked after I punched her.

My eyes lit fires as I burn holes on the side of her head. My fist clenching on my side as I fought the urge to kill her right there and then.

"I don't wanna see your face here."

But, how can I leave when I finally have what I've yearned for all those years. I didn't even ask for it, didn't work for it yet it came down falling into my lap.

As I continued gazing at her, for once in my life, fear started to creep up. Fear of the unknown, where will this lead me? Weakness is something so foreign to me, just like how love and care is, but taking in what Maria had said earlier.

I did care.

But, not for anyone.

Only for her.

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Author's Note: Finallyyyy, ahhhh, everything in my mind is falling into place. Hope you enjoyed this one! More angtyness coming your way, darlings (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

[empressdede]

All Hail the Tribal Chiefest

With all the warnings in the world, Roman wouldn’t have believed that he would be here. He remembers his father’s warning about him about keeping the castle happy. He remembers his cousins telling him that the most dangerous thing on earth was a scorned woman. He remembers her own warnings, how if she gave him her heart, to not break it because he wouldn’t like the outcome.

It sounded like a threat at the time and it didn’t always sit right with him. Roman grew up to be the most feared person walking, everyone knew not to mess with the Tribal Chief.

And yet, there was only one person who seemed to not take heed to those precautions, and maybe it’s because she warned Roman that she may be just a little bit more dangerous than she led him to believe.

Roman’s word was law, that’s just how it was. She knew that before marrying the mafia king; but she always let it be known that when the instance came for her foot to be put down, her word was also law.

She’s guessing, Roman took her for a joke. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be here.

They all warned him, and he reminisce on the words his wife had said to him just a few months prior to him being in this situation.

“Do you love me Roman?” She softly asked in the room, their legs tangled underneath the sheets from the rigorous activity they engaged in prior.

Her hand was caressing his chest, and Roman turned his head to face her. “More than I want to admit.” He confessed because it was true.

Roman never thought April could’ve stole his heart the way she did. Her tender smile being his biggest light on his worse days. She had a hard exterior but her interior was very soft. And once Roman was able to get a glimpse of her tender side, it was like he couldn’t get enough.

April softly smiled at his response, “I want you to show me, everyday. Even if it’s not to the world, I want to know you love me and promise you won’t break my heart.”

Roman knew she was speaking like this because of her past; all she wanted was a little reassurance and Roman could give her that and the world if she asked.

“I would never hurt you April.” He promised

She pressed her lips to his chest where his heart pumped all the blood into his body. “Good, cause behind my heart, I could kill you.”

It was a warning, but he paid no attention to it. Till now.

Roman’s hands were bound behind his back with handcuffs, his breathing was heavy and the only thing that could be heard in the room.

Blood mixed with sweat dripped down his face as he sat and took everything April had to give him.

“If you touch her, I’ll kill you.” Was the only warning Roman gave to his guards when they started to move in to intervene.

April ignored him, clenching the brass knuckles that was in her hand and swung at him again.

“Did you enjoy it Roman?” She asked tauntingly, the anger in her tone only really displayed her hurt.

The left side of his face was swelling, and the cuts on his face were profusely bleeding from her swings. “Was she worth it? Do you love her?”

He shook his head no, but that wasn’t enough for her. No. She wanted to hear him, his apology needed to be just as out loud as the disrespect.

“What all of a sudden you can’t fuckin speak!? Tell me, was she worth it?”

“No. It meant nothing to me April, I promise.”

April let out a humorless laugh, She couldn’t help it. “You promise?” She repeats and laughs again, hunching over to hold to her stomach.

“You remember promising you would never hurt me? Is this the same promise you giving me?” She questioned, before turning to face everyone else in the room.

Everyone just watched in silence, they were riddled with shock because they could not believe their eyes.

Their Tribal Chief, on display by his wife, taking the beating she gave him without a fight.

“You all walk around like my word means nothing because you serve the Tribal Chief. Like nothing I say matters because I’m just the bitch he sleeps with right?” She asks as she addresses the room.

Nobody knew what to say. April flashed the fakest smile towards them. “You ever hear behind every great man, is a great woman? You think because Roman is your Tribal Chief it means you can disrespect me? No. So I’ll ask you all, only once…. Who was it?”

Silence. Tone deafening silence and them refusing to answer her question, only infuriated her to no end. If there was one thing she was going to get everyone in this room to understand, it’s to not play in her face anymore.

Her patience was thin, so she grabbed the gun she had hidden in her waistband and raised it to a random person, and pulled the trigger without blinking.

The sound of the gun going off, made almost everyone jolt in the room. The body dropping on the floor, made their blood run cold.

April tilted her head in mock sadness, “Anybody feel like answering now?”

“It was Tatiana.” A young maid answered. Wringing her hands at giving up the name of her ‘friend’; but her life was worth more than her fake friendship with that girl anyways.

April turned to face her, the look of fear in her eyes made April smile. “And who’s Tatiana?”

Her finger pointed to another woman who tried to hide herself behind a couple of the guards. April hummed, tilting her head at the girl, “What’s your name?”

“Keira.” She answered timidly and April smiled. Of course, it was a woman who was brave enough to say something. She appreciated the honesty.

“Keira, your Tribal Chiefest forgives you for lying to her.” Then she pistol whipped the girl, watching as she fell to the floor with a small cry. “But let that be your last time lying to me, do I make myself clear?”

She brought her attention back to her husband. Walking back to him and placing the gun in her hand under his chin and forced him to look up at her. “You want Tatiana, Roman?”

The eye that wasn’t swollen, stared into her eyes and he answered honestly. “No.”

“When people disrespect me, they disrespect you, Remember that? What happens to people who disrespect the Tribal Chief, Roman?”

“I punish them.” He answers but April laughs, shaking her head in disagreement.

“You kill them.” She corrects. “So what happens now Roman since you’ve disrespected me?” And the silence was loud.

She had walked into the room with a cup, she turned around to grab it from where she placed it and throw the essence of it on his face. Freshly squeezed, lemon juice all over his cut up face.

The yell Roman let out wasn’t even enough for her, but she took pity on him.

April chuckles sadly, shaking her head at him. Even in this position, Roman was still the most handsome man she’s ever seen in her life, and she gave him her heart on a silver platter that she knew he wasn’t ready to return.

“Tell me you love me Roman. Tell Tatiana you love me.”

“I love you, April. Only you.”

April’s eyes started to water, her resolve starting to fade but she refused to fold before her point was made. “Do you mean it?” She whispered and Roman nodded his head.

“It was a mistake baby, ONE mistake that I will never make again. I swear to God.” A deity that he doesn’t believe in, but swears on if it meant April would forgive him.

April lifted her free hand to caress the side of his face that wasn’t bruised. “Till death do us part?”

“Till death do us part.” He answered unhesitatingly, and even if Roman could die in this very moment; He’d rather it be at her hand than anyone else, after all it was only her that was his only weakness.

April couldn’t though, even if she wanted to. She loved him and she was selfish. This man was hers and her’s only. She’d let this go just this once so that anyone else who even thought about doing something this stupid again could be warned to stay away. Because there won’t be a second time.

April pressed her lips to his forehead. “I want you to tell her she meant nothing, I want you to mean it. Then I want you to kill her in front of everybody since the Tribal Chief is the only one who does the punishing around here, right?”

April spoke aloud on purpose because that Tatiana bitch couldn’t do anything about it. The power she thought she had over her, definitely died the second April put her hands on Roman.

April turned to face the room, “Let this be a lesson and the last time any of you think my words carry no weight. Because if I wanted to, Roman would do anything I ask. This isn’t just Roman’s house. This is MY house and If I say go left, this whole house better be turned to the left, do you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am.” A unison reply, and a small smile etched it’s way on her face. Especially when she turned to face Tatiana. “I hope it was good enough to die behind it.”

The woman shook her head no, tears flowing down her face cause she was stuck. She didn’t know what to say, especially knowing her fate had been laid out in front of her. “I… I didn’t mean-“

“I don’t care what you meant. It’ll be the last time.” April retorted, and when she felt Roman’s presence behind her, she smiled.

“Make it quick. I’m hungry.” April stated before turning to walk out of the room.

April doesn’t think she took 5 steps outside of the room before she heard gunshot rang throughout the room. A smirked on her face as she continued her journey to her bedroom.

Hell hath no fury like a scorned woman, and she made sure everyone would remember that moving forward.

__________________________________________

Hi. I am just dropping this off and then disappearing again. I missed y’all so I decided to just randomly drop something. I can’t wait till I’m really back, I have so much to show yall🥺🫶🏾

Even if nobody reads this, I hope you guys enjoy💙

Tagging the lovelies: @wrestlingprincess80 @whatdoeseverybodywant @blacst4r @paigereeder @alyyaanna @raya-hunter01 (I tagged whoever was on my taglist, please let me know if you ever want to be added or removed)

[twst-drabbles]

Dire 10

Summary: As usual, Dire is procrastinating his search for the way to your home. Honestly, you'd usually just settle for some verbal threatening, but clearly that's not working. You decided to go a bit physical this time.

(Nothing graphic, the Janitor isn't beating him to a pulp so no blood. Just pushing him around until he falls over and pressing their shoe against his neck. You know, that kind of stuff. Oh and someone walks in.)

"So, about that progress." You almost closed the door too hard behind you, but still the noise was enough to make Dire hunch his shoulders. "Your research. How's it going?"

"W-whatever could you mean?" Dire faced his body towards you, but his eyes were nervously scanning the wall off to the side, fanning himself with those fancy, practically glittering claw rings of his. "I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about."

"…you're fucking with me." It's been months since you've had an update of any kind regarding the subject. You made sure not to be insistent upon it, demand update after update because you didn't know shit about advanced magic. You've barely managed to catch up to the current level that the first years know! You have enough base knowledge to know that it's not easy stuff, so you always give Dire leeway when he looks away and mumbles his excuses.

…but now he's pretending he doesn't know what you're talking about. He's not tentatively giving you an excuse, he's trying to stay out of it entirely. Playing up his birdbrained self.

He's procrastinating.

"Well, if you're not clear then…" Dire's mouth grew tinier and tinier as you marched towards him, "what are you doing?"

Why do you even bother with this headmaster? Of course you should've known better than to give him that many olive branches.

"Now now, there's no need to get violent," Dire practically shrank into himself as you got closer and closer. Rather than attempt to run away, he tried to protect his body with his coat. "H-how about I give you extended vacation days?! O-or even a higher raise and an added bonus on top of that?! Oh but if that's not enough than I can easily procure some interesting magical artifacts if that's to your--oh!"

You seized his shoulder and forced him to face you, the gold lights of his eyes nothing more than shaking pinpricks. "Clearly I'm not getting through your thick head."

Then, you kicked his feet and let him tumble to the floor, his hat rolling away, revealing messy black hair. Before he could scramble his way back up, you slammed your foot just above his shoulder. He froze, and that was all you need to press the heel of your shoe against his bobbing throat.

Now Dire can no longer look away from you. His face blossomed into a bright red flush as his hands cradled your ankle, no gripping or pushing away. Good. He knows when to behave when you're well and truly pissed.

"Honestly, I'm starting to think you're craving this," you dug your heel in deep for a second, smiled at the choking Dire before you, "Is that why you've stopped giving a shit about finding a way to my home? You wanna pretend you don't know anything, just so I can tear off that incompetent head of yours?"

"I-If you would j-ju--"

"I didn't say you could breathe." You stepped down harder, fully cutting off his breath and watching as he flailed about. But still, he didn't push your off. No magic, no incantations. Nothing. "You want my respect Dire? Perhaps even my favor? Then keep your end of the deal."

Just as you lightened the weight off your foot, the door to Dire's office slammed open.

"Headmage Crowley, I'm here with the documents Kalim forgot to send yester--huh." Jamil walked right in, paused by the scene unfolding before him. You with your foot still on Dire's throat, eyes thinned into a glare that never failed to grip a small part of Jamil's insides hostage, and Dire, gasping, shivering and flushing like he was a bug pinned down by needles.

For a moment, Jamil's face contorted into a horrified expression, but was quick to school himself back into his seemingly mild-mannered self with a cough. He frowned and sent a glare to the both of you as the tips of his ears turned red. He opened his mouth, as though he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Jamil's jaw closed with a click, massaged his temples, and exited the room.

Any other day, this would amuse you. Well, actually it still does, because there's nothing more fun than messing with someone who insists on keeping everything inside until they explode, but Dire is still here and you're not done yet.

"So, what do you have to say?"

"…I'll continue looking for a way home," Dire conceded.

"Glad you see things my way."

[suprememuffin06]

should i post my caitvi canon-compliant character study fanfic on ao3???

i've written about 4k words so far, so far from any semblance of completion. this is my first fic and i'm soooo nervous to post it on ao3 because i'm scared it's just horrible lol. i'm trying to cover all the missing caitvi scenes for all the acts in s2, and im on act 1 so far. i'll post the draft here, and if anyone has any feedback, it would be extremely appreciated!

------

Vi couldn't look Cait in the eye, not properly. Not after all that happened. She was just comfortable enough staring at the girl’s royal blue hair and uniform, closely examining each subtle shake of a shoulder and each nearly imperceptible frown. Vi watched as the cracks in Caitlyn’s facade started to widen, the composed face she put up for the citizens of Piltover starting to slowly weaken.

Even from all the way below the balcony, in the waves of people gathered to memorialize Cassandra Kiraminn, Vi saw Caitlyn. Everyone else was looking at the daintily crafted blue and gold casket, to their councilwoman.

Vi heard the shifty murmurs of panic and uncertainty. A terrorist attack from the undercity. Half the counsel dead. Vi could feel the bile rising in her throat, tasting something like guilt mixed with the name Powder. And though her attention to Caitlyn never faltered, she couldn’t stop seeing flashes of Jinx’s gag in Cait’s mouth; she flinched as a cold crept up her spine.

Vi was surely going to throw up, and this time it didn’t feel like it would be as freeing as heaving after a gut punch from an inmate at Stillwater or wiping her mouth after one too many drinks from prison-made alcohol. Yet, there she stood. Her arms hung at her sides, the old wraps crusted with blood. She shoved her hands deep into her pockets, trying to hide the mess of her knuckles. The tattoo on her face gleamed in the sunlight like a proclamation saying “I don’t belong here” to the sophisticated individuals around her. She noticed the mothers pulling their children to their sides when seeing Vi, and the men that towered over her shot her murderous glares with fists clenched at their sides. I don’t belong here.

She didn’t care, not as long as she could look at her Caitlyn. Her Caitlyn. Her Powder. Her throat tightened, memories of blue flashing across her mind like lightning splitting the dark. It zipped around, knocking over and crashing into every crevice of her brain, leaving a trail of destruction in its path. Powder laughed with joy, and Vi could only watch as the short, choppy hair of her sisters grew into long, vine-like braids. In spite of herself, she winced at the thought.

The glitter bombs Powder held stopped exploding, in exchange for the sound of gunfire reverberating in her skull. Jinx aimed her machine gun through Vi’s eyes, directly at the indigo of the Kirraman girl standing above her. The worst gift Vi could give Caitlyn, delivering all the anger that her sister represented directly to her. And although she hated it now, Jinx would forever be a name buzzing right beneath her bones. No matter how much of herself she could give to Caitlyn, there was always an underlying paranoia that her mere presence was a vessel, bringing Jinx right at Caitlyn’s doorstep.

Vi wanted to feel it. You did this. No one else noticed the small tear that slipped down Caitlyn’s highest cheekbone except for her. YOU did this. Vi furrowed her eyebrows and locked onto that tear, watching it slide down the column of Cait’s neck. She saw the betrayal on her sister’s face when she saw her for the first time in seven years, with an enforcer. An enforcer, for fuck’s sake. And she saw the way Caitlyn listened to her when she told her not to shoot Jinx. And now her mother is in a box.

Somehow, Vi managed to gain and lose two of the most valuable relationships she ever held in the matter of a few weeks. You are a fire. Keeping people just warm enough if they stay at arm’s length. Once they draw near, they get burned. They get hurt, and yet you ask them to come closer still.

-

When Caitlyn’s eyes started to gain some focus again, her pupils pinpointed in the sunlight while scanning the masses, Vi vanished. She waded through the crowd and could feel Cait’s gaze find her back, watching her leave. She could only allow herself to indulge in the pain of looking at Caitlyn indirectly, but she would never allow her to know the pain of looking VI in the eyes again.

Vi would kill herself twenty times over before allowing Caitlyn to trust her, her judgement. Look what happened the last time she allowed that. Vi only brought ruin. A false security. She would not allow herself to be the cause of such anguish again. She needed to leave.

-

Caitlyn’s fingernails left crescent-moon shaped indents in her palm, and her enforcer uniform felt heavy on her shoulders as she watched everyone who came to her mother’s funeral. Really, she was looking at just one. The last thread of color in her life was slipping away, without so much as a goodbye.

Vi would have to be a fool to presume that Caitlyn wouldn’t find her in the sea of people, drawn to the side-swept mess of pink hair and bright red jacket. It took her every ounce of control that she had remaining to not clear the landing and sprint to the girl.

Caitlyn imagined herself crashing into Vi’s arms, and feeling the strength of the Zaunite’s biceps pressing against her cheek. Don’t go. You’re all I have left anymore. She could practically feel Vi’s breath rustle the strands of her navy hair, accompanied by the soft whisper of “I’ve got you, Cupcake” into her ear.

Tears started to well in her eyes and Caitlyn willed them to remain in place. She forced her back straighter as she watched the girl that she spent every day with for the last few weeks, walk away from her. Far enough away that Vi was just a pink dot in the distance, against the muted hue of the Piltover cityline. Caitlyn exhaled hard in favor of allowing herself to feel anything more, and steeled herself for the ending of the funeral.

The casket was closed, shrouded with a metric ton of violets, plucked delicately petal-for-petal. The hard contours of the box reminded Caitlyn of the sharp line of her mother’s jaw and the strong nose that she herself inherited.

The pall-bearers slowly lifted her mother’s coffin, and began their descent towards the cemetery just outside of Piltover city limits, where all of the most influential people were buried. Involuntarily, her feet began to shuffle forward, trying to catch one last glimpse of her mom, before one of the enforcers standing beside her shifted closer and in front of her. She didn’t know him well, but knew he was higher-ranking. Under any other circumstance she would have obeyed hierarchy and stopped herself. But today was not the day to test her, not when she was one more inconvenience from breaking down and raining hellfire on anyone who tried to tell her to “stay strong.” The officer shriveled under Caitlyn’s glare, one that could only be embodied by a councilwoman’s daughter.

She marched right beside the casket, her eyes level to the head of it, where her mother’s face would be if the box were open. This form of emotional expression, Caitlyn knew, was frowned upon by her people, but she couldn’t give two shits. Nothing was ever going to stop her from reaching those she loved again.

Caitlyn walked dutifully before reaching the stairs, catching the glimpse of her own shade of blue; her father. His broken gaze withered her soul and her body felt as weak as the day it did when Jinx killed her peace. She stopped in place. The only thing keeping her upright anymore being the red-hot swirl of something bitter brewing in her stomach. She was already imaging target-practice later today, with two sky-blue plaits covering the bullseye.

-

After Jinx had destroyed the council-building, Caitlyn’s ears were ringing so loudly she could barely register her screaming as her own. Vi’s strong hands were no longer steadfast when holding Cait up, and despite her injury, Caitlyn started trying to run. Out of Zaun, out of that hellhole that she thought was worth risking her family and her legacy for. In the back of her mind, she noticed that Vi was following her, calling her name, asking her to wait. You’re hurt Cait, please. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t think she would do it. I’m sorry. Violet’s voice cracked on the last apology.

Caitlyn didn’t spare a glance back, adrenaline flowing through her veins just enough that her long legs could carry her through the slums and across the bridge without collapsing. In hindsight, she realized that Jinx just disappeared after the incident, and neither she nor Vi went after her. The thought left an unbearably bitter taste in the back of her mouth, the thought that she was so close to Jinx, after all that she had been through at the hands of the girl, and she didn’t take the chance to shoot her in her fuck ass grin.

Caitlyn sprinted, harder than she ever had before, and felt Vi trying to keep up behind her. Vi even held her rifle that Jinx had taken from her during the abduction. She wished that the pink-haired inmate would just fucking trip on an overgrown root or leave her for her sister instead.

Vi was the one who told her not to shoot.

Vi.

How could she do that?

She kept running, outpacing Vi with every further step.

By the time Caitlyn arrived at the scene, her precariously put-together enforcer uniform was ripped in places she knew was unrepairable and new cuts littered her body. She was nearly knocked down by Jayce’s hulking body, running out of the building, carrying who she vaguely understood to be Viktor’s limp body.

Without sparing a glance back at her friend, she ran into the collapsing structure. She caught a glimpse of soft-white hair and turquoise earrings. Her mother was being carried out by four enforcers in gas-masks, her body slack and unmoving. Caitlyn watched her mother’s eyes, just barely clinging to any semblance of life, met hers, and blinked out one final time. She could do nothing but stand in shock as the enforcers pushed past her to the stretcher laid outside, Cassandra Kirramin’s blank gaze never breaking.

-

Vi was a fucking pussy. She told herself she fucking wouldn’t, that she would stay. away. Yet, she found herself at the foot of a towering mega mansion. From her vantage point on the ground, she could even see the window of Caitlyn’s room, the same one she had snuck into just a few days prior.

The feeling of manicured fingernails brushing her cheek came flooding into her body without permission, and a familiar warmth seemed to tighten its hold around her heart. “Fuck.” She cursed to herself, and took the first step up the massive stairs. She was weak, and always had been, but she tried to console herself by telling herself that she just wanted to make sure that Cait was okay, that’s all.

Once more, just to see her, that’s all.

The guards stationed at the large mahogany doors let her in without so much a second glance, and Vi, against her best wishes, felt her heart swell. Cait had to have told them to let her through, otherwise what competent guard would allow a Zaunite into one of the most influential Piltie families' homes, especially after recent events?

It took Vi embarrassingly long to locate Caitlyn, at some points just aimlessly wandering around the carpeted halls, fingertips brushing each piece of exquisite artwork adorning the walls. A few times, she nearly walked into rooms where Caitlyn’s father was in, before catching herself and speeding away. She didn’t need a reminder of how unwanted she was there and didn’t have the strength in her to apologise without crying.

Vi was the catalyst that led Cait to lose her mother. She wasn’t stupid, she could see the level of crazy that Jinx had come to. She had noticed in her youth that Powder wasn’t the most stable of children, especially after Mylo’s unrelenting taunting, but she never would have guessed how big of an impact her disappearance would have on her younger sister.

Sidling up with Silco, for fuck’s sake. Vi never meant to leave her, and every second after getting thrown into jail by some enforcer to her release, her only thought was of Powder. She knew Powder, her greatest insecurities and biggest goals and still she allowed the girl to think that her big sister, her protector, was leaving her. Powder was just a kid, and look at how badly Vi fucked her up.

Vi swallowed painfully at the realization that she did this. Powder became Jinx because of her actions, and now her hand hovered over the door to Caitlyn’s mother’s closet, where Kirraman was seated cross-legged, unsure if she should knock or leave again before she messes everything up again. She started to shuffle backwards, away from the room, walking away from the only reliable thing in her life.

Caitlyn must have heard the soft breaths of Vi’s shoes on the hardwood and looked over her shoulder sharply.

“Vi!” Cait’s desperate voice ended in a needy whisper.

The taller girl got onto her feet unsteadily and almost sprinted to Vi, falling into her arms. Her face was streaked and hair mussed. Vi could feel fresh tears soaking into the side of her neck, where Caitlyn’s face was currently buried. “I thought you left.”

Vi only held her tighter, but didn’t allow her grimy hands to come anywhere near the pristine uniform that Caitlyn wore, in fear of getting it dirty with her heavy hands. “I’m right here cupc- Cait.” It felt wrong to use such a light-hearted nickname, especially after all the pain she had caused the woman in her arms.

Caitlyn, seeming to catch herself, pulled away quickly from Vi’s hold and tried to inconspicuously wipe away any remaining water from her eyes. Half of the dark-blue shoulder length hair was falling out of the hastily done ponytail, and Vi’s hands itched at her side to try to stop it from brushing it out of the other girl’s face.

“How’ve you been holding up?” Vi asked, her voice soft.

“What do you think?” Caitlyn responded with a feigned chuckle and turned around. Vi noticed the clothing that littered the floor of the closet for the first time, and the ruffled tuxedo dress that Caitlyn clenched in her white-knuckled fist.

They stood like that a while, Caitlyn once again facing the days-untouched clothes neatly folded on racks, and Vi observing Cait from behind. The closet itself was bigger than Vi’s cell for seven years, but somehow felt even more desolate and hopeless.

Vi let her eyes drag from the top of Caitlyn’s head to the bottom of her heeled boots. The roots of her hair were getting slightly greasy, as if she hadn’t showered in quite a bit, but her uniform was as pristine and gleaming as ever, as if it had been polished and laundered many times over.

The skirt that Caitlyn wore left just enough of a gap above her thigh highs to show a sliver of white skin. Usually, Vi’s lust-addled mind would stare there more than she liked to admit, but now she could only think about the small bruise that was blooming under carefully applied makeup, mostly hidden by the hem of the skirt. Vi did her best, but could not control her sharp inhale at the view. How could someone be so pure in a world so cruel? And Vi had helped lead Caitlyn down a path where her blemishless, innocent skin would most likely be further marred by her past.

Caitlyn turned on her heel to face Vi once again, and Vi had to take a slight step back, forgetting how much taller the other girl was, especially in her shoes.

“I’m going to go check on my father, he’s not been eating.”

Vi, once again, couldn’t meet her eyes, and let her gaze drop to the floor.

A heartbeat later, a slim, manicured hand tentatively reached for Vi’s, and her heart melted.

“Are you.. Going to stay?” Caitlyn grew more confident as she slowly wrapped both her hands around Vi’s. She didn’t look up at her, instead opting to brush her fingers over Vi’s wrapped knuckles. “I could clean this for you.”

Vi felt the familiar tug in her gut, drawing her closer to the idea of staying with Caitlyn, but she felt disgusted with herself for feeling as such. “Cait..”

Caitlyn’s striking blue eyes met hers under long lashes and the words caught in her throat. Gently, she pried her hand away from Caitlyn’s pleading grip and brought it to her face. Her thumb brushed over one of the tear streaks on Cait’s soft cheek and she could feel her eyebrows tighten with something akin to affection.

“Of course I will.”

If it weren’t for Vi’s hand allowing her to feel the loosening of Caitlyn’s clenched jaw, she wouldn’t be able to perceive much at all about the girl’s reaction. Instead Caitlyn nodded into her palm.

“I’ll be quick, I swear. I just need to make sure he’s okay to sleep.” Cait covered Vi’s hand on the side of her face with her own. “My room is down the hall and the second door on the left.”

Slowly, she extracted herself, and Vi heard the clack of boots down the hallway, stunned at what she’s allowed herself to do. Caitlyn was a sweet girl with a heart that needed to be defended by someone who wouldn’t accidently hurt it in the process. Caitlyn Kirramin was the exact person she grew up believing didn’t exist, and Vi was allowing herself to become key to her destruction.

In her room?? The house was fucking massive, and there was more silk in the closet itself than Vi had ever been exposed to (exactly none), her entire life prior. They must have at least one spare room. She mentally kicked herself and clenched her fists into her jacket. All she could do was hope that she wasn’t making the wrong decision again.

-

Vi had no idea how anyone got around in this palace; it took her almost ten minutes of walking up and down the hallways until she finally found the familiar high-ceilinged bedroom, her face a mask of amused disbelief the whole time.

She entered as softly as she could. The room was as she remembered it, all organized and minimal, a picture perfect representation of one of Piltover’s most wealthy families. It seemed that this aesthetic left Vi unsure of where to keep her hands so she opted to cross her arms.

All was the same except one tiny change to Caitlyn’s crime board at the foot of her bed. At the center of the interweaving lines of yarn, there was one image plastered haphazardly. All the paths led to that one picture, like rivers flowing to the ocean. Vi felt her mouth go dry as the worst photo she had ever seen of her sister started back at her, with a deranged sort of stare.

She didn’t even have enough time to react to it before hearing the click of the door behind her. Caitlyn’s eyes immediately drew to what Vi was looking at and she quickly pulled a throw blanket off of the loveseat in the corner and threw it on top of the board, making sure nothing was peeking through.

“It’s getting late, Vi, I don’t want to think about anything substantial right now.”

Cait was indeed right, it was well past dark, as could be seen through the infamous window on the far end of her room. Vi attempted a small smile and her usually natural laidback tone.

“So, where do you want me?” She face-palmed internally as Caitlyn let out a small, endearing giggle. Vi’s smile turned genuine at the sound, despite the fact that she just accidentally let innuendo slip to the girl she would be spending the night with.

Caitlyn’s eyes were bright, despite the circles underneath them. “Hopefully in here?”

Vi’s hesitation was palpable, especially now. “Do you have a spare mattress? Or I could take the chair. Or the floor, I’m used to that one, feels like home now.”

Caitlyn just started at Vi like she was stupid. “I would never make you sleep on the floor.” She whispered, almost offended.

Vi couldn’t take any more of this. This.. guilt. But she endured, for Caitlyn’s sake.

“Thanks, Cupcake.”

-

Vi was easier to read than any books in Caitlyn’s family library. Zaunite's pupils were always blown looking at her and the scar on her lip twitched whenever she had something to ask. Not unusually, Cait was looking at Vi’s lips again. She found it ironic that such a hardened individual was so obviously transparent. The girl was concerned about her, and if anyone else were to be so, attentive, Caitlyn would send them out immediately. But, as she had suspected (and feared): she needed Vi.

Caitlyn had been raised to focus only on the task at hand; getting the job done. With all the memories pushing and pulling like tides in her head made the etiquette lessons with her mother feel like they happened hours ago. She could still feel the warm sting of a ruler rapping against her lower back whenever she slouched. The perfect daughter. Even in her dying breath, Caitlyn didn’t believe Cassandra thought that of her.

House Kirraman was a matriarchy, and she was the sole inheritor of the title. She understood it now more than ever, that her days of trying to find her “place” in the world were over. Recklessly selfish actions for the sake of a possibly hollow idea of self no longer had any place in her. Caitlyn knew who she was: capable and resourceful, and an excellent fucking shot. Although the future was still a perpetually uncertain mystery, she tried to take it one step at a time.

Vi was looking at her, she could feel her worried gaze. Caitlyn inhaled deeply, clearing her mind the best she could. One mission: get through the night.

Maybe then she wouldn’t feel Cassandra’s hard, but loving stare drilling into the back of her neck.

- Vi’s brain hurt trying to overanalyze every step of Cait’s movements, attempting to decipher what her next best move should be. Currently, the bluenette was rummaging through a dresser at the corner of her room. Vi slowly slipped off the bed, unsure of what to do.

Caitlyn walked over with two fresh pairs of clothes. She handed Vi a pair of soft linen pants and a cotton white tank top, while she held a similar tank and a short pair of her shorts.

“Do you need anything? You can change in the bathroom if you’d like.”

Vi smiled, but it probably came out looking more like a grimace. “This is more than I’m used to, don’t worry.” Her teasing tone was doing nothing to remedy Cait’s stoic expression. The only window Vi had for any indication of what she was thinking, were the girl’s striking eyes, clearly focused on something else.

Caitlyn walked directly past Vi and sat on her bed, legs crossed and knees to her chest with her face in her palms. Vi followed a few long seconds later, letting her legs dangle off the edge of the bed as she put her hand on Cait’s knee. Caitlyn finally met her eyes.

“Do you need anything else?” She asked gently.

Caitlyn’s voice was hoarse. “I’d like to shower.”

Vi looked at her slightly quizzically, unable to answer.

“She took me while I was bathing.” The words left her lips without ceremony, her tone flat, practiced. She knew it would hit Vi like a hammer, but what else was there to say? Her hand clenched the fabric of her shorts, knuckles pale against the dark cloth.

Vi felt the room tilt, her pulse thrumming so loudly in her ears that Caitlyn’s voice sounded like it was underwater.

She felt horrible for wanting to chuckle at Vi’s horrified look.

“Wha.. What do you mean?”

Vi’s breath hitched, her thoughts stumbling over themselves. Her chest felt tight, her fists curling unconsciously. Naked. Helpless. The image struck her like a fist to the ribs, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep her voice steady. Jinx’s laughter echoed in her head. What have I done?

“After the bridge. She kept me for a day, and..” Her voice trailed off, lost in thought.

-

Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck. Oh my god what the fuck. Vi felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. It was so much worse than she thought. Her heartbeat started to match the speed of her thoughts, as she put together the pieces.

When she had seen Caitlyn gagged and tied, the girl looked more terrified than she had ever seen her. Even still, Jinx’s presence cast a shadow over her worry.

Every step she thinks that she takes in the right direction, just ends up hurting the people around her. Maybe her and her sister weren’t that different after all.

-

Even softly, Caitlyn caught onto the slight increase in Vi’s breathing pattern and used her pointer finger to lift Vi’s chin gently, so their eyes could meet. She slipped her ungloved hand into Vi’s buzzed hair, the short strands soft against her fingertips, her thumb brushing the warmth of Vi’s cheek.

“Vi, I want to shower.”

Vi looked as conflicted as she probably felt. All she did was nod.

Caitlyn leaned forward, resting her forehead against her knees, her hand still lightly brushing Vi’s. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft rustle of fabric as Vi shifted closer. She didn’t know what to say—hell, she didn’t know what Cait wanted her to say.

When Caitlyn finally looked up, her eyes held a quiet, raw intensity that made Vi’s throat tighten. “Could you…” Her voice was thick, and she cleared her throat, her fingers tightened around Vi’s for just a moment. “Come with me?” Caitlyn’s eyes were sharp but heavy, like an ocean that hadn’t decided whether to swallow you whole or let you float.

-

[writingsonsaturn]

all of the girls you've loved before

{ masterlist } { the 'taylor swift' series }

🪐: the ending is a little rushed, and this is so not proofread but NEW SERIESSS, love you enjoy

wc - 2.7k

content warning: fem!reader, cheating (not from tim), fluff, talk of blood (reader is a blood analyst)

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You and Tim have known each other since you moved into the neighborhood when you were twelve, you had moved right across the street. He saw you one day outside helping your mother bring in boxes from a moving truck, he noticed the way your hands shook with the heaviness of the box but instead of dropping it, you fought through and continued carrying it inside. When you had walked back outside you ended up noticing him too, the way his hair lightened in the sunlight, his thin body shaking with nerves as the pretty girl he was staring at for far too long walked up to him and asked him a question.

“Do you know how to fix a pipe?” your voice flowed through his ears like honey soothing a sore throat, “oh um, no i don’t but i could ask my dad” he responded with a shake in his tone, although he hated interacting with his father he would at least try his best and ask for you. “Thanks!” you smiled and then asked him if he wanted to hang out sometime, explaining you just moved here from a couple states away and needed a friend, “yeah, that would be really cool” he agreed quickly, very quickly.

In no time the two of you became inseparable, spending endless days together with no regard for anyone else who wasn’t inside the little bubble the two of you had made. 

During the high school years, the crush you developed for Tim only grew stronger and stronger, during the classes you two had together he would always insist on sitting next to you and nearly every time he would never take no for an answer. The teachers found it easier to just succumb to his demands then argue with him over it, he would say a very polite ‘thank you’ and trot his way over to the desk or seat right next to you. You would always roll your eyes and say “it wouldn’t kill you to not sit next to me you know, it only makes their lives harder” and he would snap back with a “i work better next to you” and with that you would smile and turn your head back to the teacher with a warm feeling in your face.

Although one day, Tim came to you in a panic freaking out about not knowing what to wear. 

“Wear to what?” you questioned, confused why Tim of all people was freaking out about what to wear.

“Cindy agreed to go on a date, now hurry up, which shirt looks better” he rushed, holding both

shirts out in front of him with an impatient look.

You chose the shirt on the left, it was black with a blue vertical stripe on it. Biting back the sheer shock and hurt you felt in your chest and mustered up enough faux happiness, “now get out of here, and go get the girl” you said with a tight-lipped smile.

From there on out you tried your best to shove the feelings for Tim deep, deep, deep down into the deepest pit you possibly had in your body. You eventually also found yourself a boyfriend, you loved him deeply, and enjoyed his company. Cindy, Tim, you, and drake had double dates every week or so. Drake and Tim would talk about football while you and Cindy would groan about the upcoming physics test and how the homework was just absolutely destroying your social life.

Cindy and Tim broke up after junior year, they both wanted different things and felt neither of them wanted to take a chance at a long distance relationship. Tim would be heading into the military after graduation and Cindy was going to study abroad in Germany for a journalism degree. However, you and Drake were going decently strong, he had football scouts watching him at a couple of games and you were getting a full ride scholarship to an ivy league college.

That was until Drake cheated, the cliche of a football boyfriend cheating on his not so popular girlfriend had prophesied. You were completely and utterly distraught to say the least, Tim came over after you hadn't shown up at school that day and wouldn't pick up any of his calls. Your mom answered the door with a saddened look, “Hey sweetheart” you mom whispered “she’s not doing too well.”

Tim internally freaked out, considering any and all possibilities, the worst one being that you’re dying, obviously. Your mom must have seen the way his heart practically fell out of his jeans because she quickly explained what happened, “oh my, she didn't tell you?’ with a scoff she continued “Drake cheated on her, he was, i assume at a house party, and someone snapped a photo of him kissing another girl” her tone was sad, with a hint of anger, that someone had the audacity to hurt her little girl.

Tim nodded and stepped inside, taking off his shoes and walking upstairs to your bedroom. He pressed his ear against the door trying to get a sense of what he might be walking into, but heard nothing so with a light knock he entered your bedroom, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting to walk into but you sitting on the ground with a small blanket covering you and your knees tucked into your chest wasn't it.

“Oh, Y/n” he sighed and sat right beside you on the ground, you sniffled in acknowledgement and looked at Tim with red, wet eyes. 

“How can someone just do that?” you croaked.

“I don’t know, honey” Tim replied, wishing on every star that he could take your pain away and punch it into Drake’s skull.

You leaned into Tim’s chest, silently sobbing and asking questions you knew Tim wouldn’t be able to answer. Every time he would just hold you tighter and tighter, almost morphing your body into his until you cried yourself to sleep.

He stayed there for a generous amount of time before carrying you to your bed and tucking you in, and wishing you sweet dreams before leaving and going back into his own bed.

After a couple weeks of consoling you and getting you back into your groove he went and talked to Drake, confronting him in the school parking lot after football practice. He wanted nothing more than to beat his face in with a baseball bat but he figured you wouldn’t be very happy bailing him out of jail, so he opted for a stern scolding instead.

“What’s up, Drake?” Tim huffed out, walking over to Drake's car. “Oh, hey Tim” Drake said with a tone way to cheery for this situation, “Listen, what happened at the party was nothing but a drunken mistake, and besides, Y/n wasn’t giving anything up anyways” he explained “you know how us men are, we need intimacy” Drake ended with a small smile, assuming Tim would understand and bro hug him.

Tim however only became more heated, looking at Drake with red in his eyes, “so what you’re saying is, Y/n was just someone for you to get your rocks off with, and she wouldn’t give it to you so you decided to cheat on her?” Tim tried to put together Drake’s motives but couldn’t for the life of him understand the shallowness of that concept.

“Exactly, bro” Drake sighed in relief, thinking he got through to Tim, “you’re a real piece of shit, you know that Drake?” Tim growled. “Y/n did nothing but care and love you, and you drop the moment she doesn’t fuck you?” Drake’s face dropped, quickly realizing the predicament he was in. 

Tim walked up to him, nose inches away from Drake’s, “If I ever see you even breathe near her ever again, you will be on the floor faster than you can even registar what is happening, do you understand me?” Tim ended his sentence with a push and walked back to his car feeling somewhat better.

Tim sat in the driver's seat for a while, contemplating what to do next. He decided it would be nice to take you out to your favorite restaurant and go over college majors with you as you had been needing help figuring out what you should do for the field you were wanting to step into. 

As senior year came to an end Tim and you parted ways but always kept in touch, it was hard sometimes but the two of you did your best.

He would send you letters asking how college was, and you would send letters back asking if he was still a little twig or if he had finally built up muscle. Worry was always something you carried everytime a letter would be late or you wouldn’t hear from him for a while, but thankfully all was always okay.

When he got out he decided his next course of action would be to go into the police force, telling you it was the closest thing to the military a civilian could get and you supported him through the training academy. You had gotten your degree in forensics and now work in the lab as a blood spatter analyst, and he was a rookie.

You and Tim were absolutely stoked to be able to work in the same precinct, even opting for carpooling every now and then when you were too tired to drive. You also figured out way before Tim did how big of a crush Isabel had on him, she smiled so wide when he walked in and would constantly talk to him and invite him to get drinks after work. 

“You know she likes you right?” you teased, looking at Tim with a smirk as you ran tests in the lab. “Who? Isabel?” he asked obliviously, not quite catching onto what you caught onto months ago, “God Tim, yes!” you whisper-yelled “she makes googily eyes at you every time she’s looking at you.”

“You really think she likes me?”

“Oh my god, you are such a dude, of course she likes you!”

“Should I ask her on a date?”

“Yes Tim. Ask the poor girl on a date, she’s been waiting”

After you lit a fire under his ass, he quickly asked Isabel on a date and their relationship flourished from there. You on the other hand only had a couple of boyfriends off and on, none of them could make you very happy, and you would feel bad for leading them on. Never knowing why you weren't ever satisfied by good men.

One day Tim came up to you in the lab, very secretly and locked the door while looking at you. “Hey, i need womanly advice” Tim said, almost scared even the wind would pick up on his voice. 

“Alright, hit me” you smiled finishing up your email, “which ring do you think Isabel would like best?” your eyes flashed to the screen Tim was pulling up. The images showed two sets of princess cut diamond rings, one wearing a silver band while the other wore a gold band. Tim was smiling ear to ear waiting for you to react, you studied the rings hard before deciding Isabel would most likely prefer the silver band over the gold band.

“Thank you, Y/n” Tim looked at you before hugging you tightly, “I mean it, thank you” he finished by giving you a last squeeze before leaving. Your heart felt oddly heavy, holding emotion you weren't quite able to explain away, the world was dimmer.

Tim’s wedding came and went, you attended and gave a very long, tearful speech. Telling Tim how proud of him you were and how glad you were that he had found Isabel. It still stung, although you weren't entirely sure why, Tim’s heart has never been yours to hold and keep safe.

Then, Isabel started to delve into drugs, Tim would come to your house nearly in tears every other night thinking Isabel was cheating on him. You would comfort him, trying to reassure him that she wasn’t cheating on him and her job was just hard. She just needed extra support, you thought.

Your heart ached for Tim when the two of you found out Isable was using, you also hurt for Isabel, occupational hazard completely turned her life upside down. You did your best to be there for Tim and stayed up to date with any possible sightings of Isabel, but you never caught wind of her whereabouts.

Fortunately, one day when Tim was riding with his new rookie, Lucy Chen, he ran into Isabel, who was inside a convenience store. He came by your lab after it had happened. 

“She looked bad, Y/n” Tim’s voice cracked, looking more sorrowful than he’s ever looked before. 

“I'm so sorry, Tim, that’s so awful” you hugged his slumped frame, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll find her again, I know it” you pulled away smiling at him lightly. 

He gave you a forced smile, telling you he would take you to lunch after your labs came back, you wished you could give him more but there was really nothing else you could do for him. 

After a couple of months and a really sloppy secret op, Isabel was finally able to get the help she needed and was willing to go into rehab. Tim was ecstatic to see her looking so much like her old self again, and he understood when she said she no longer wanted to be with him, that she felt she couldn’t move on with him still in her life.

Tim was just happy to see someone he loved for so long doing so good. 

He lived the single life for a while, getting back on his feet and his mental health back into a good position. 

Rachel was a short fling, but you were sure Tim loved her. 

You strongly disliked Ashley but that's neither here nor there.

Then he finally opened his eyes and saw you.

You were who he’s been waiting for his whole life, the one who saw him at his most vulnerable, while also seeing him at his most fulfilled. It took him too long to notice but he finally did, every long night chat that he always came to you for, all the times he needed to cry on someone's shoulder he would go to you. He was finally going to tell you that, and he hoped to the highest of powers you would feel the same.

After his shift he walked over to your lab, knowing you, you would be working later than you should be. He let out a nervous breath, and opened your lab door. 

“Y/n? You in here?” Tim’s voice echoed off the plain walls.

“Over here!” you called from the back of the room.

Heavy footsteps made their way towards your voice, they were fast paced, almost nervous. “Hey!” you exclaimed with a big smile stretching from ear to ear, you were sitting on the floor with files spread out around you, looking like your office had been paper bombed. 

“Hi, Y/n” there was a quiver to Tim’s voice, one that made your stomach drop, you didn’t know what Tim was about to tell you but whatever it was, it’s causing your anxiety to mix with his.

“Are you okay?” 

“Perfect.”

“Then why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” you laughed nervously.

“I'm in love with you” Tim finally spit out, swallowing his fear and looking into your now wide open eyes.

“What?” your mouth was agape as you asked, your heart nearly exploded with eagerness and relief. 

“I'm in love with you, and i want to take you on a date” Tim repeated, with more confidence this time. “Okay” you stated simply.

“Okay?” His voice was laced with a bit of confusion and happiness. 

“Tim, i’ve been in love with you since we were in middle school and instead of hitting me with a dodgeball you took a hit for yourself because you just couldn’t bring yourself to tag me out” You laughed out, getting up from your paper tornado you've made around your office.

Tim pulled you into him with one hasty movement, “I wish i’d noticed sooner” Tim had a slight frown adorning his face.

“Every dead end street, led you straight to me, You noticed when it was the right time” you said quietly, wanting this moment to last forever. 

“So, where are you taking me on our first date?”

[choccy-milky]

@foundthatoldzeppelinshirt what did u do to me...what in the wattpad is this... i only planned to do a few doodles but then i kept getting more brainrotted and things got out of hand LMAOO (and ofc i HAD to draw hockey player seb at SOME POINT bc its my duty as a canadian citizen🫡🍁🍁 O CANADA!!!)

[mars-ipan]

i sometimes worry about how much this website romanticizes drug use

[afterartist]

CW: fake blood

Found some OLD art I did of one of my old friends and my MLP (Rainbow Factory) OCs

I don’t even remember their names but shhhh

Redraw

[gold-snek-hoe]

Til: *acting out because she feels ostracized and undervalued by her family*

Kate: I do not see 🙈🙉🙊

[beholding-moth]

for the oc ask thingy Austrat!!!! afsdgads it's so hard to choose the questions ywy i wanna know SO MANY THINGS

ok ok let's narrow it down to 5, 15, 29..... oh and G & H <333

i love how you chose him of all my OCs, the guy I'm playing as in my first bg3 run :')

*slaps Austrat* this purple warlock tiefling can fit so much religious trauma and gay yearning in him, he has hands down maybe one of the most traumatic backstories I have written aside from Meomy that is and maybe that would explain why he immediately felt a connection with Astarion

5. How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

very easy, his very first instinct is not to trust at all and once someone breaks his trust in any way possible he won't be able to trust them ever again

one thing that needs to be known however is that he values loyalty above all else and once someone gains his loyalty he will be devoted to it

15. How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

he is very calculating about everything he says, he does come off as charming though. but also more often than not he deceives, doesn't like to talk about personal things and speaks half-truths if needed. In short: most of the things he says have been rehearsed in his brain a million times before, that it started to come to him naturally now. (all im saying is: he is a pathological liar)

29. Do they usually live up to their own ideals? 

his ideals are very in the morally grey area tbh. all he strives for is staying in control of his own decisions, providing his fey archon with little treasures and mysteries for entertainment and helping out wronged people. and if he has to kill for any of those? he will

but also what can i say :') it's hard to say what ideals one has when they are very dependent on whims...

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

i think all his "ooh im so mysterious and untouchable" behaviour would kinda piss me off. id kick him in the shin for that, but only if i didn't know where he is coming from..... which i do... and i wanna give him a pat and tell him everything is gonna be ok, you will get your revenge

H) What trait do you admire most?

i think i admire how free spirited he is, he is trying his utmost best to let go of the past and enjoy the present moment, he does not think or worry about the future so much and i think all of this is admirable in a way

JKJKJK, unle-