#just to agonize over the fear of losing it before i could get things written down

[starmocha]

Neglecting my 373829927299 wips, my tasks, my errands, my fucked up sleep schedule, my life in general, because I am obsessed with this new wip I have:

More tribal warrior!Sylus, but make it childhood friends/arranged marriage/soulmates AU-flavored. This is my new ✨need✨, please enable me, I'd already written 4.6K words and that's only like 1/3 of the story I'd envisioned

(other things in the story to consider: light breeding kink, definite pregnancy kink, body worship.....just worshiping in general, because my other current obsession is Sylus being grossly in love with you and this fic is lowkey just him being "my wife ❤ I will worship the ground my wife walks on ❤ I will worship the air she breathes ❤ she can kick my ass idgaf because she does it so prettily ❤")

As you returned to the village, nightfall had already descended. You and Sylus had ridden back in silence, the awkward atmosphere only worsening with each passing minute. Sylus had kept an arm protectively around your waist the entire time while his other hand held the rein. You looked down, eyes following the horse’s hooves as he trotted back. “We’re almost back,” Sylus’ soft voice broke through the tensed atmosphere. You looked up, seeing the huts that lined the outskirt of the village and your mare quietly grazing in the distance. You wriggled a little, but that only made Sylus tightened his hold. You looked down at his arm around you and you said softly, “Let me down. I can walk back.” “No,” he answered. “Sylus—" He suddenly yanked the rein, forcing the horse to turn around in a different direction. “Sylus?!” you looked up panicked, not expecting this sudden change in pacing. Sylus’ sight remained ahead, and your heart sped up at the sight of seeing his handsome face from this angle, bathed only in moonlight. Sylus commanded his horse skillfully and you both rode atop the stallion at a brisk pace. The cool night breeze brushed against your cheeks, drying your earlier tears. You even found yourself starting to smile and laugh, the adrenaline taking over. Eventually, Sylus took you back to the village once he had seen that you had calmed down. The horses were returned to their stable. You turned just as Sylus handed you the saddlebag. You looked up surprised. “They mean nothing to me,” he said resolutely, “Burn them.” “I’m not going to…” He stroked your cheek with the back of his hand. “I’d never meant to make you upset or have you cried like that, nor did I mean to make you jealous…” “I wasn’t jea—” He leaned down and kissed your lips, silencing you. You dropped the saddlebag, the pouches spilling out on the ground. “Sy—” He lifted you into his arms and you looked up in surprise. “What are you—" He carried you out of the stable before letting you down again. You looked at him exasperatedly. “You always do what you want—this is not fair…” “What’s not fair?” “It’s not fair…how…I’m the only one…feeling insecure…” In the village square, you could hear the celebration dying down as people started making their way home. The bonfire in the center still blazed brightly. “You are right,” Sylus responded, “I don’t feel insecure.” Your shoulders slumped and you kept your eyes lowered. You suddenly felt Sylus’ finger under your chin, tilting it up so your eyes met his. “You were promised to me,” he said, hushed, “And I to you.” He kissed you. “We are meant to be, and were we not, I would rewrite the stars, to change the course of destiny and weave a new tapestry of fate to make you mine.” His forehead pressed to yours. “My love,” he held his gaze with yours, “There is only you…no one else.” He kissed you again, and the last remnants of your jealousy and hurt faded away. Just you.

[rewritingroswell]

Maria ponders what to do now after sleeping with Max and Liz.

word count: 6420

rating: explict

characters: Kyle Valenti, Max Evans, Liz Ortecho, Maria DeLuca

pairings: Maria/Max/Liz, brief mentions of Maria/Kyle

other notes: this is the dirtiest thing I've ever written lmao

Kyle has come by the bar after a long shift at work. Maria hesitates to say anything, but she feels like she needs an outsiders opinion to get any clarity on the situation.

"So… the person I have feelings for – the person who made me realize things just weren't clicking with us – I might have kinda hooked up with them…"

Kyle nearly chokes on his drink. "What? Oh my God, that's great!"

Maria grimaces. "Is it? The situation just feels too complicated. Like, we've been friends for so long and it just kind of impulsively happened."

"So, you didn't talk at all about it?"

"Kinda. They said they want to pursue this further, but I kinda chickened out of the conversation because I just can't imagine it working."

"Hmmm. Well… was the sex bad?"

"Are you kidding? It was incredible. The thought that I'm never gonna have that experience with them again is agonizing."

"I don't see your reason for hesitating then."

"I can't bear the thought of messing things up with them. If I do, I'm not just losing one person."

"Who says you'll mess things up? Maybe you just need to ignore your fears and take the leap. Maybe things can only get better."

Maria seems a bit surprised by this response, and pours herself a shot, quickly downing it.

Kyle looks at her with concern. "Are you no longer sure of your feelings?"

Maria scoffs. "What? No. I've never felt this way about anyone else before."

Kyle gingerly touches her arm. "Then don't let your fears scare you away from something that could be amazing."

Maria averts her gaze and finds herself staring at her hands. Kyle smiles again. "Just… Promise you'll think about what I said. And, I don't want you to feel pressured to share things on someone else's schedule, but I do want you to give me an update when you're ready."

He starts to stand up. "Well, I should get going. I've got an early shift tomorrow and I probably shouldn't have been out this late."

He kisses Maria on the cheek. "Get home safe, Dr. Valenti."

He smiles at her. "Goodnight, Maria."

Kyle wanders out of the bar. Now that she's alone, Kyle's words repeat in her mind. The longer Maria thinks of his words of encouragement, the more ridiculous it seems to run away from these feelings. If she felt half as strongly about one person, she wouldn't hesitate to pursue a relationship with them. Why is she hesitating when it's two people?

She needs to talk to Max and Liz. Now.

-------------------------------------------------------

It's pitch black outside and pouring rain. Maria's fist pounds on the door of Max and Liz's place. 

It feels like an eternity before the door opens, Max and Liz are in pajamas, puzzled to see a drenched Maria standing before them in the middle of the night. Before either of them can say anything, Maria pulls Max into a kiss. He seems surprised at first, but quickly matches her fervor as his hands slide to her back and he pulls her closer. 

Maria pulls away slightly, their noses still brushing and turns her gaze towards Liz. They both lean closer until they're kissing passionately.

Once the kiss ends, Maria whispers, "Yes. Let's try this."

Liz leans her head back and laughs. "Thank God. Max and I would have followed your lead and respected whatever decision you came to, but we absolutely hated the idea of going back to the way things were before."

Max echoes Liz's relief. "The way you hurried off that morning… We were trying to brace ourselves for rejection."

It's Maria's turn to laugh. "Sorry, I needed a few days to think it over."

Max grabs one of her hands. "No need to apologize. We told you to take as much time as you needed to get your answer. And it's a big decision, it's probably a good thing you spent so long thinking it over. Even if it was torture for us."

Maria cups Max's face with her other hand, her thumb stroking his cheek. "Apologies for making you expect the worst. I didn't intend to cause you distress."

Liz smiles. "Babe, don't worry about it. It's water under the bridge now. What made you change your mind?"

Maria shrugs. "It's like Max said. I can only determine if I want this and I'm willing to take the leap. And I do. I want both of you. In every way. I don't want to pretend otherwise just because I'm worried things might fall apart."

Max smiles, "Well, I'm glad my advice was helpful."

He pulls Maria and Liz into a hug, and the physical contact makes all of them register how wet Maria's clothes are after standing in the rain. They all pull away, just enough so that they can make eye contact. Liz giggles, "Let's get you out of these clothes before we're all freezing cold and soaked."

Maria smiles mischievously. "Only if you join me in undressing."

Max feels his mouth go dry, suddenly processing how eager he is to return to the bedroom, hoping for another lengthy night.

He kisses Maria again, it's all heat and tongue this time. Maria's hands thread through his hair as she presses close to his body. Once she pulls away, Max helps Maria peel off her shirt, and his quickly follows. They then turn towards Liz, and Maria asks, "Can I take this off?"

Liz nods, breathless. "Please."

Maria pulls off Liz's shirt, her breasts fully free now, and Maria's hands quickly start to caress her. Liz whines. "I almost said no to the opportunity to touch you like this again. What a foolish decision that would've been."

Liz moans, feeling herself getting wetter, her cunt aching with need. Maria leans in and kisses her, Liz's tongue eagerly entering her mouth. Maria then starts to leave a trail of kisses as she travels lower, to Liz's neck, then to her breasts.

Liz cups the back of Maria's head as she feels her knees start to go weak and buckle. Max is suddenly beside her, helping Liz stay upright. "Ladies, as much as I hate to interrupt, we should probably take this to the bedroom before things progress any further. I think having sex on the floor will come back to bite us in the morning."

Maria laughs, a little bit of frustration slipping through. "An untimely but warranted interruption."

She grabs their hands and starts to lead the two of them towards the bedroom. Once inside, Maria turns her attention back to Liz. "Now, where were we?"

Maria captures Liz’s lips in a kiss, immediately turning open-mouthed. As Maria's gaze starts to drift lower, Maria says, "God, I love your body."

Maria's tongue starts to give attention to Liz's breasts and Liz moans, her breathing already speeding up. Through gasps, Liz says, "I love your body, too. I love the way we fit together and how it feels when we're pressed against each other." 

As Maria's mouth continues to give ample attention to her chest, Liz stumbles back towards the dresser, gripping the edge. Most practical thoughts have left Liz's head long ago, her mind focusing on Maria's mouth and her hands, but she knows she's going to collapse if she has to rely on her legs right now. "Wait, wait. Help me get onto the dresser."

It's at this moment that Maria registers the dresser's existence and notices it has a mirror. She makes a mental note to herself that she'll have to make use of that later as she helps Liz situate herself. After a bit of fumbling around, Liz is sitting on the dresser, Maria standing between her parted legs. Maria laughs, "Better?"

Liz kisses her deeply, her tongue sliding into Maria's mouth. "Much. Now, what were you wanting to do?"

Maria smiles as her hand slowly drifts to Liz's cunt, touching her over the fabric of her pajama pants. "Well, that depends. Can I remove these?"

"Do whatever you want to me."

Maria rewards that response with a kiss as she quickly pulls off the pajama pants. She slowly kisses her way down Liz's body, as she slips a couple fingers inside Liz's cunt. "God, you're so fucking delicious. And so wet for me already. I can't wait to have you in my mouth."

Liz's head is spinning with how desperately she wants Maria's mouth on her cunt already. Maria's thumb swipes her clit and Liz trembles, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please."

Liz begging for a release goes straight to Maria's cunt. Maria has the thought that she needs both of them to pound her until she's sore before the night is over. She wants to feel their handiwork for days. But Maria's nothing if not a tease. Her thumb continues rubbing circles. Maria feigns confusion, "Say that again."

Liz bucks against Maria's hand and whimpers. She speaks again, louder this time. "Please."

And with that Maria's burying her head between Liz's legs. Liz yells almost immediately as Maria starts tonguing her clit. "Fuck!"

Maria and Liz both moan as Maria's hands start to wander Liz's body. Liz's grip on the dresser tightens, and her cries get louder as Maria continues. It doesn't take much longer before Liz comes, with a scream that echoes through the whole house. As Liz is coming back down from the orgasm, Maria leaves kisses on the inside of her thighs, her hands still traveling Liz's body. "God, you taste so fucking good. And I love the sounds you make when you're getting eaten out. I want to do this every fucking day."

Liz is practically ready to come again just from that thought. She leans down to kiss Maria, tongues pressed together, both of them clearly still in this lustful haze. "Your tongue is fucking magic."

Liz kisses her again. "I know Max and I already admitted that we hated the idea of not being with you –" Liz kisses Maria's neck, as her hands drift to Maria's breasts, cupping them over her bra. She starts to nip and suck at Maria's pulse point, as her hands start to get busy, causing Maria to release a moan. Liz returns her gaze to Maria's face, "And this relationship definitely means more to us than sex, but… fucking you was sublime."

Liz kisses the other side of Maria's neck, giving it similar attention. Maria's hands fly to the back of Liz's head, fingers threading through her waves. Liz pulls away and continues, "I never wanted it to end. The idea of not being with you like this again was devastating to us. These past few days, every time I thought about you, I was wet."

Liz places a kiss on Maria's collarbone. "Your mouth." Another kiss. "Your hands." Liz's mouth starts to drift lower. "Your breasts." And lower. "Your cunt. You're so fucking luscious."

Maria moans again, eager to draw another orgasm out of Liz. Liz gently grabs one of Maria's hands and guides it to her cunt. "Can you feel it? How fucking wet you make me? Just knowing that I have the opportunity to fuck you again has me aching for a release."

Liz's hands continue to caress Maria's breasts, her nipples hardening from Liz's touch. Maria can't help herself and she dips a couple fingers in Liz's cunt in response, wanting to make Liz feel as good as she's making her feel. Liz rocks against her fingers and groans. Through heavy breaths, Liz says, "What can I do for you? As eager as I am for you to make me come again this quickly, I don't think it's fair that I haven't gotten you off yet."

It's at this question that Maria recalls the fleeting idea she had when she spotted the mirror. Maria gives Liz one final tease as she leans in to kiss her. "As much as I'd love that, I'm guessing Max would like to join in."

Maria and Liz both turn their gaze towards Max, still standing by the bed. He's painfully hard after this display, and given the way the two women hungrily stare at his crotch, he's guessing they can probably tell. Normally he'd be embarrassed about his erection tenting his boxers, but given their heavy gaze, he knows they want him to fuck them until they've forgotten everything beyond his cock. And he's eager to comply.

Max makes his way over to the two of them, standing a few inches away from Maria. His voice is gravelly when he speaks. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want to watch you fuck me. You and Liz look so fucking hot together when you're inside her. I want to see how we look."

If Max wasn't already painfully hard, the idea of watching their reflections in the mirror would do it for him. Liz and Maria are always gorgeous when he's watching them ride out their orgasms, but something about the voyeuristic aspect of using the mirror has him struggling to form a coherent thought.

Liz stumbles her way off the dresser and quickly sits in the chair by the wall, eager to watch them. Maria turns her gaze back to the mirror and guides Max's hands to her breasts. He squeezes them through the fabric of her bra and Maria groans, her hands dropping to her sides. Max focuses on Maria's reflection as he touches her, watches the way she spasms as his thumbs rub circles around her areolas, her nipples already sensitive from the way Liz had just been touching her.

Maria leans back, their faces next to each other now. Maria moans in his ear. "God, we look so fucking good together."

Max grunts, "We do."

Max unclasps her bra, hating that there's a barrier keeping him from touching her properly. He quickly discards it, and resumes touching Maria. She moans again and her ass grinds against his cock. Max inhales sharply, as his right hand palms a breast, squeezing and rubbing, while his left hand pinches the nipple of her other breast between tracing circles with his thumb. Maria's gaze is still locked on their reflections, "You're so fucking good with your hands. You're gonna make me come just from touching me like this."

Max's eyes darken, his gaze returning to meet hers. "Good. I want to watch you come like this. You're stunning when you orgasm."

Maria has the impulse to start fingering her clit while Max continues with his hands on her breasts, but the more dominant part of her brain wants to hold out for Max getting inside her. She wants her first orgasms of the night to come solely from him. His fucking incredible hands and his equally fucking incredible cock. Between these thoughts and Max's touch, Maria's comes quickly, yelling Max's name as she does.

Max groans again. "Fuck. I don't think I'll ever be used to hearing you scream my name."

"I bet you will if you make me scream like this every night."

Max doesn't know how much harder he can possibly get, but apparently he's not as his limit yet as he feels more blood rushing to his cock. "God, I want to do that for you. I never want to stop making you come."

Max pushes down her skirt as he kisses her neck, his teeth gently scraping her skin. The skirt pools at her feet and Maria steps out of it and kicks it towards the wall. His gaze travels her body, completely naked excluding her panties now. "Fuck. I doubt you need me to tell you, but you're so exquisite, Maria. Being able to witness you like this is a privilege, and it's a blessing that you think I'm worthy of it."

Maria groans. "God, at this rate you're gonna make me come again just from your words."

Max's voice is strained, "That's really enough for you?"

"It is when it's coming from you. I know every single word is genuine. It’s why you make me so fucking wet."

Max groans as he buries his face in her neck. Maria continues, "I bet Liz could say the same. You're so fucking good to us."

At this rate they're both going to come before he gets the chance to get inside her. Max's hand starts trailing lower until it reaches her cunt, teasing her through her underwear and Maria bucks against him. "Enough. I need you to get inside me. Now."

And with that, Max rushes to pull off his boxers. He wants nothing more than to fulfill Maria's desires, but he hesitates. "Are you sure you're ready? Normally I'll get someone off with my hands at least before we get to this stage."

"Max, even if I wasn't ready, I'd still be asking you to get inside me. I've been wet since before we got to the bedroom, and I've only gotten wetter since we got in here. Plus, given we all know you're hard already, do you really want to postpone feeling it on your cock?"

With that, Max rushes to pull down her panties and slips inside her. Maria groans loudly as she reaches for the edge of the dresser for support. "Fuck!"

Max grunts. "I could say the same. You feel so good."

Once Max finds a steady rhythm, his left hand quickly finds her clit. Maria shrieks and squeezes her eyes shut, breaking her gaze away from the mirror for the first time. "Max! Fuck! Yes, fuck me exactly like that!"

Liz's cunt throbs as she watches them, desperate for something to clench around. The only thing stopping Liz from using her hands is that she'd much rather have Max fuck her exactly like he's fucking Maria so she can come around his cock. They hear the not so distant sound of thunder. Max groans, his thumb rubbing circles against Maria's clit matching the speed of his thrusts, as his right hand settles on her hip. Maria's gaze returns to the mirror, watches the way he thrusts into her, while his hand works her cunt. Through gasps, she says, "God, watching you fuck me almost rivals experiencing it. You said it's a blessing to see me like this, but the real blessing is that I get to fuck you. I have the pleasure to experience your cock reaching deep inside me over and over and over again."

Max grunts, and, suddenly, lightning strikes near the house. Liz practically jumps out of the chair, startled, but Max and Maria barely seem to register it. Max puts more power into his thrusts, his thumb never leaving Maria's clit. "Yes! It feels so fucking right when you're inside me. Fuck me until I'm sore. I want to feel you for days."

Max's right hand starts to travel Maria's body as she pushes back against him, allowing Max to reach even deeper inside her. "Fuck!"

Max almost sounds like he's being strangled when he speaks, "You're telling me."

It only takes a couple more thrusts before Maria yells as she reaches her peak, constricting around him. Max joins her shortly after.

Liz is in a bit of a daze, but she manages to take a few steps closer to them. Her voice is low as she asks, "Was that you?"

It takes Max a moment to pick up on Liz's meaning. "I think it might've been."

The sound of thunder rings out again, definitely closer this time. Max pulls out and Maria quickly collapses onto the bed. Max seems a bit embarrassed now, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I didn't know I could apparently turn a rainy night into a thunderstorm."

Liz cups his face, making sure he meets her gaze, her pupils blown wide with lust. "Don't be embarrassed. Losing control of your powers is proof of how much we affect you. Proof that you love fucking us as much as we love fucking you. Besides, I need you to fuck me the way you just fucked Maria."

Now it's Max's turn to feel dazed. Liz's hands drift towards his cock, her grip gentle but firm as she slowly strokes him. "What can I do to make you hard again? Do you want my mouth? After watching the two of you, my cunt is plenty wet for you, but clearly you need another moment before you're ready again."

Max bucks against her hand as her thumb starts to rub circles against the head. "Liz…"

Liz repeats the question, speaking slowly, "Do you want my mouth?"

Maria is too worn out to do much of anything beyond watching them, but her cunt throbs with the way Liz is talking. It reminds her how desperately she wants Liz to fuck her senseless.

Max groans. Liz continues, "I want you in my mouth. And I bet Maria would enjoy watching you fuck my throat."

"Please."

Liz smiles and quickly gets on her knees, taking his full length in her mouth. Liz places her hands on his hips and she moans as her tongue traces the underside of his cock. She loves how full he makes her feel, whether he's in her mouth or in her cunt. Liz continues to suck and starts to let him into her throat, getting both of them prepared, continuing until she feels him harden enough to fuck her. She gives one final tease as her tongue travels from the base to the tip and she guides his right hand to her head. "Fuck me like this."

Max bucks against her mouth. "Liz."

Liz locks her gaze with his. "I want you like this. Please."

Max's gaze is hot enough that Liz swears it could start a fire. "Liz. Are you sure?"

Another bolt of lightning strikes near the house. Maria's gaze was already fixed on the two of them, very much enjoying the visual of Liz on her knees with Max's cock in her mouth, but the proof of how much it's affecting Max is just as good. Maria wants to see him come undone from Liz's mouth, and hear him cry out as Liz pushes him towards his orgasm.

"Yes. I want you in my mouth, to fuck my throat as if it were my cunt. And it seems clear you want that, too. Go as deep as you can. I'm ready to take it. And once you've finished with my throat, I want you in my cunt. I want you to come inside me tonight as many times as you can manage."

And with that, Max starts thrusting into her mouth, slow and shallow at first. Liz groans, "More."

Thunder rumbles again, even louder this time, as it's clearly getting closer to the house. Max's thrusts get a bit rougher and he pushes deeper, but his pace is still slow. Liz moans, and Max can feel her voice reverberate around him. His grip on her hair tightens slightly. "Liz."

Maria feels herself getting wetter still. Liz moans again and her tongue starts to give him attention, urging him on. Max grunts and his speed increases, doing his best not to give into the frenzy he feels. Liz's nails dig into his hips, another sign of encouragement. Max's pace gets a bit more frantic, pushing deep and hard into Liz's mouth, feeling her throat respond to each thrust. "Liz. Fuck!"

Another lightning strike. Liz's fingers tap his hip, her warning that she can only take a few more thrusts. Max thrusts once more and grunts as he comes, before slipping out.

Liz groans. "God, I love having you in my mouth. Are you ready to go again? My cunt aches for you. I need you to fuck me and I'm not sure I can wait."

Max pants as he stumbles towards the bed, "I don't think I can stand any longer, but yes. I want to be inside you."

Max takes a second to situate himself on the bed. "Come here."

Liz smiles as she quickly sits on his lap, her breasts brushing against his chest. He dips a finger inside her cunt. "Fuck. You told me you were wet, but I wasn't prepared for just how much. You feel exquisite."

His thumb swipes her clit and Liz gasps. "I love how you touch me. You always seem to know what my body wants before I have to ask. Of course I'm this wet for you."

Max definitely feels his cock getting stiffer. His thumb starts to rub circles against her clit. Liz grinds against his hand and her nails start to dig into his back. "Fuck! You're so good to me."

Liz continues to grind against Max's hand, as his thumb continues stroking, and it doesn't take long before Liz screams as she reaches her peak. She spasms as the wave of pleasure extends through her body. Liz takes a moment to steady her breathing and come back to herself. Her hands slide down his chest. "Are you ready? I need to ride you."

And with that, Max is definitely ready. He nods, "Yes."

Liz's hands reach his cock, and she slowly guides him inside her. They both groan as she sinks down his length. Max's hands quickly move to Liz's back, pulling her closer still. Her breasts drag against his chest with every movement. Liz moans, "God, I love the way you feel inside me. The way we fit together so perfectly."

Liz starts to increase her tempo, and she pulls away slightly so they can make eye contact. Their gazes lock and Max's hands drift from Liz's back to her breasts, as Liz moans again.

Even when their gazes are heavy and lustful like this, Maria can still see the tenderness and love shining through. She feels incredibly touched that she's able to witness them like this, but there's also a twinge of jealousy as she yearns to be on the receiving end of their stares.

"I love you, Liz."

"I love you, too, Max."

It only takes a few more pumps until Liz screams as she reaches her climax, and Max joins her briefly after.

They both fall to the bed now, panting heavily, limbs still tangled up. Max wraps his arms around Liz, keeping her close. She kisses Max for a long moment and his hands travel up her back, until they're cupping her head. Liz smiles as she releases a sigh and rolls off of Max, but she stays by his side.

Max tenderly strokes Liz's back but he turns his gaze towards Maria. "I think I've worn myself out for the night, but I'd love to go down on you. If that's something you're up for."

"I thought you'd never ask."

Maria crawls closer and Liz pulls away slightly from Max, allowing Maria to get better access to him. Maria straddles Max, sitting about halfway down his chest. He can feel how wet she is, and Max groans. "You feel so incredible. I want to taste you."

"And I want your mouth. You can't just mercilessly fuck me and expect that'd be enough for the night. Especially after the pleasure of watching the two of you."

Max laughs silently. "Apologies. Didn't mean to leave you dissatisfied."

Maria slides closer to his face. "That's okay. I know you'll make it up to me soon enough."

"Yes, ma'am."

Max pulls Maria closer and in seconds his mouth is on her cunt. Maria cries out loudly and Liz can already feel herself getting wet just from that reaction. Max's hands wander Maria's body as she rocks against his face. "There, right there. Yes!"

Liz's eyes travel the both of them, the throbbing of her cunt intensifying at every noise escaping their lips

"Max! Fuck!"

Maria quickly grips the headboard as Max's hands settle on her hips, keeping her close as his tongue continues to tease her. It doesn't take much longer before Maria screams as she reaches her peak.

Maria trembles as she falls to the bed, between Max and Liz. "Fuck! You are masterful with your tongue."

Max laughs, and Maria quickly pulls him into a kiss, her tongue entering his mouth. Maria turns her gaze to Liz. "Well, Max might be done for the night, but are you up for continuing? I've been desperate for you to fuck me since you got on your knees. You looked so utterly sexy when Max was in your mouth."

Liz feels her arousal building even more, desperate for a release. She slides closer to Maria, their bodies nearly touching now. "I would love to fuck you. And I'm glad you enjoyed watching us.” Liz sighs, apologetic. “But I don't think I can bring myself to leave the bed. I'm not sure my legs can support me right now."

Max smiles. "Well, good thing you're in bed with an alien who has telekinetic abilities, then. Unless you want to stop."

Maria gasps in delight before kissing him chastely. "You're a lifesaver, Max Evans."

Max laughs. "Just doing my best to make sure my ladies are taken care of. Besides, I don't think any of us could manage standing right now."

Maria smiles. "We'll have to remember to grab the toys before we get to the bed next time."

Liz laughs. “Definitely. If you hadn't caught us by surprise, we might've had the thought to grab them before we started."

Maria gasps in mock offense. "Are you saying that you don't like when I take the lead?"

Liz gently shoves Maria. "I am definitely not saying that." 

Max uses his telekinesis to open the dresser and grabs a harness, dildo, and a bottle of lube. The items float to the bed, landing near Liz's hands. Liz giggles, "Gracias, cariño."

Max smiles. “Siempre, mi amor.”

Liz grins, always enjoying hearing Max slip into Spanish to respond to her. It’s a side of Max that he reserves specifically for her. His level of fluency is understandably nowhere near hers, making it all the more meaningful when he does. Liz reaches over Maria and cups his face, her thumb stroking his cheek and he instinctively leans into her touch. After a minute Liz pulls away and returns her attention to Maria. “Well, give me a moment to get ready, and then I’ll happily get inside you.”

Maria's cunt aches at the thought. Liz slips into the harness and secures the dildo before she grabs the lube. She pours some into her hands and slicks up the dildo, making eye contact with Maria as she does.

Max turns to his side to get a better view of the two of them. 

Liz slips a couple fingers inside Maria. "God, you're so fucking wet. I probably didn't even need to bother with the lube. I can't wait to make you come."

Maria moans as Liz continues teasing her. "Please."

Liz's thumb rubs Maria's clit and she whines. "Liz."

Hearing Maria say her name goes straight to Liz's cunt. "Sounds like I've teased you enough. Let me make up for that."

Liz quickly slips inside Maria and she gasps loudly. Liz kisses her neck as she starts to thrust, her breasts grazing against Maria's each time. Maria pulls Liz closer, no more space between them, and they both groan. Liz continues thrusting and Maria pants as she speaks, "It's funny that you said earlier that you were thinking about my body, when you're so fucking voluptuous. I bet half the people in town would kill to be with you like this."

"Well, too bad for them that I'm already spoken for. You and Max fuck me right, I have no interest in anyone else."

Liz leans down to kiss Maria again, swallowing her moan. Maria's nails dig into Liz's back, causing her to pick up her speed.

Once Liz pulls away, Maria speaks again. "As fucking good as you feel inside me, I need you to go harder and deeper."

Liz obliges, pushing in deeper and putting more power into her thrusts. Maria cries out in pleasure. "Yes! Yes! More."

Liz is in a bit of a lustful haze, and she wants nothing more than to satisfy Maria, but she still has to ask. "Are you sure?"

Maria nods. "Yes, I want you to make me ache for days. I want to be so sore that all I can think about it how well you both fucked me. I need a physical reminder of how fucking good you make me feel."

And with that, Liz pushes in as deep as she can. Maria cries out again and spasms. "Fuck!"

Maria clings to Liz now, her thrusts rough and frenzied. It doesn't take much longer before Maria screams Liz's name as she orgasms, pulling Liz even closer.

Liz smiles and kisses Maria's neck again. "I hope that was satisfactory enough."

Maria laughs through heavy breaths. Liz takes that as her cue to pull out and she gets out of the harness, quickly placing it and the dildo on the dresser. 

Max's gaze is on Maria's face. "Sorry for the unsolicited comment but… You two are so gorgeous together."

Maria laughs again. "Max, I don't think there's anything you can say that I don't want to hear."

Max can't help but lean in and kiss her for that. Maria smiles as her hands drift to his hair. As he pulls away she still cups his face. She asks, "How did I get lucky enough to be in this position?"

Max's voice is barely above a whisper as he locks eyes with Maria. "I think we're the lucky ones."

Liz speaks now, "I'm definitely on Max's side here."

"Well, I'm flattered you think so highly of me."

Liz sits by Maria's side, holding the bottle of lube. "If you're done for the night, I can have a bit of solo fun, but if you're up for it, there's one more thing I want to do."

"Oh?"

Liz smiles. "How do you feel about scissoring?"

Maria laughs. She asks innocently, "Is that what you had in mind?"

Liz leans closer and kisses Maria's neck. "Yes. If you're interested."

Maria moans and Liz's mouth travels lower, giving attention to her breasts. It takes a moment before Maria finds her voice, caught up in the pleasure of Liz's tongue. "I'm up for anything you want to do."

Liz smiles as she pours some lube into her hands. "Good."

Liz rubs her hands together before inserting a couple fingers in Maria's cunt. Liz teases her a little as she continues kissing her way down Maria's body. Maria arches her back and moans, as her fists dig into the sheets.

Once Liz reaches the edge of the bed, she slips a leg between Maria's and slides closer until their cunts are barely touching. Liz's heart pounds furiously in anticipation. She meets Maria's gaze and can tell that she's feeling similarly desperate for a release. 

Still staring into each other's eyes, Liz grabs Maria's hand and closes the final bit of distance as their cunts rub together. They both groan as they grind against each other. Maria speaks first, "You feel so fucking good.”

"You do, too."

Liz releases Maria's hand, having the thought that she wants to touch her everywhere. Liz starts to caress Maria's breasts, and she moans in response, before she starts to touch Liz in the same manner. 

Soon they're both writhing under each other's touch, as they continue rutting against each other, their clits brushing, and their moans fill the room.

Maria feels herself inching closer and closer to her climax and says, "I could fuck you like this every day and never get tired of it."

And that's the final spark for Liz, as she comes with a scream. Maria joins her a few seconds after.

Liz takes a long moment to recover before she returns to the head of the bed. She kisses Maria once more. "You're incredible."

Maria smiles. "You're incredible, too."

She turns her gaze towards Max. "You both are."

Max smiles as he slides closer to the two women, resting his head on Maria's chest. The three of them lay together in a tangle of limbs for a while, coming down from the high. One of Maria's hands starts to comb through Max's hair, and she speaks, "So, I know we've agreed that we're an us now but… I don't know if I'm ready for people to know about this."

Liz quickly grabs Maria's free hand. "Hey, there's no rush. Max and I have been together for a while, you get to set the pace now. Your comfort is the priority while we're figuring this out."

Max turns his head, making eye contact with Maria. "It's uncharted territory for all of us, but you have the most to get used to. I mean, a secret girlfriend –"

"Girlfriend?"

Maria's surprised by how much she likes hearing herself be referred to as Max and Liz's girlfriend.

Max's eyes widen in fear. "Sorry, is it too fast to label us?"

"No! No, I like it! I'm your girlfriend. I guess I just hadn't thought that far ahead." Maria laughs. "Wow, I can't remember the last time I was in a serious enough relationship to bother with labels."

Liz kisses her cheek. "Well, it's their loss. I haven't had the Maria DeLuca girlfriend experience, but I already know that you'll be a wonderful girlfriend. There's a reason why you've always been my best friend and I feel like I can talk to you about anything."

Maria meets Liz's gaze and smiles. "Well, I already love being your girlfriend."

Liz grins. "Good. I already love calling you my girlfriend, even if I can only say it within these walls."

Maria leans closer to Liz and kisses her, before turning her attention back to Max and placing a kiss on his forehead.

"I love being with both of you like this. It's funny, I never thought about either of you in any way other than platonic up until Liz and I drunkenly made out. Now I can't imagine anything other than this. Just the idea of going back to the way things used to be is excruciating."

Max smiles. "Well, as long as you feel that way, we're not going to let you go."

Maria pulls Max closer and kisses him again. Max and Liz slide closer to Maria, until the three of them are flush against each other, Maria's arms bracketing both of them. Liz sighs contentedly as she nestles her head under Maria's chin.

[wlwmarvelenthusiast]

Darkest Secrets

Requested by @mcmorgan9794

Summary: Keeping this secret from Wanda has been hard, but you don't have a choice but to come clean when everything is brought to light.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,446

You’d always wanted to tell Wanda your deepest, darkest secret. You had been with her for well over a year, after all. A secret like the one you harboured wasn’t something that you should keep from someone you loved so dearly. But your secret was the ugliest part of yourself. It was something you hated, lurking deep within every inch of your body. It brewed in your blood and rested in your bones, uncontrolled at the best of times and unstoppable at the worst. It was a burden you’d never wanted to place upon the girl you loved.

Yet, keeping it from her hurt too. She’d look at you with those soft green eyes, spilling everything to you. Tears would stream down her cheeks as she’d tell you all about how much she hated the powers she’d been given. You’d hold her close and whisper soft words of comfort, wiping her tears away with the pad of your thumb, refusing to tell her you felt the same about your own. She would tell you everything. You wouldn’t tell her anything. You couldn’t tell her anything. She thought she was a monster. In reality, you were the monster. If she knew that, her heart would shatter.

Sometimes, these facts were all you could think about. It was the quiet moments. Wanda was away getting coffee with Natasha, Tony and Bruce were in the lab, Thor was on Asgard, and Clint was home with his family. You were left alone at the compound. You hardly ventured out of your own room. While silence screamed in the dark room, you tried to distract yourself with a book or a movie, but it didn’t last. Instead, the weight of your secret was crushing the oxygen out of your lungs. It always did. You longed to have Wanda back, to have her by your side and thread your fingers through hers. She didn’t know how agonizing solitude could be.

You curled up in your armchair, pulling your knees up to your chest and curling your arms around them. You squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you could will the overwhelming thoughts out of your head. They were screaming at you. They were reminding you of the monster that lay dormant in your very soul, cackling as they pushed images of what you were capable of. Then you imagined Wanda. You could do her so much harm and she didn’t even know it. Were you putting her in danger every day you lay by her side? You swallowed as you tried to force back the tears.

The dark thoughts came next. They always did. You wondered how much better off the world would be without you. You wondered how much better off she would be without you. She loved you. Losing you would break her heart, but she’d be okay eventually. If you hurt her in the way only you knew you were capable of, you knew she would never be okay again. None of them would. The dam broke and tears spilled down your cheeks. Hurting Wanda Maximoff would kill you.

And as you were about to imagine all the ways you could take yourself and your monster out of this world, your phone rang.

You grabbed the phone off the table, wiping the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand. You took a steadying breath before you even dared look down at the screen. The first thing you noticed wasn’t the person who was calling, but the time. It hadn’t felt like it had been as long as it had since the other had left you alone in the compound. The darkness in your head could do that. You lost track of time often when you reached that place. An hour could pass, then two, and then six.

It was Natasha’s face that was flashing on your screen. Worry filled your gut. Was Wanda okay? She had to be okay. You forced a deep breath in, and then out. Her phone had probably died. The Sokovian was notorious for remembering to plug the charger into her phone, but forgetting to plug it into the wall on the other end. After reminding yourself of that a few times, you finally found the ability to slide the answer button and hold the phone up to your ear.

“Hey.”

“Thank god,” Natasha’s voice said. There was a loud screech in the background, the sound of metal grinding against metal. “Listen you need to get to the hospital.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Oxygen caught in your throat and you were barely able to let words squeeze past the lump that had formed. “The hospital?”

“The ambulance is almost there. She’s hurt bad. Don’t come anywhere near Midtown.”

You didn’t even bother to respond. In fact, you didn’t even bother to hang up the phone. You simply slammed it down on the table that you’d only just picked it up from, heading for the elevator. A million thoughts were racing through your head. There were so many emotions tugging at your heart that you could hardly decipher one from the next. Fear, anger, and worry were all fighting to take over every one of your senses. You couldn’t breathe. It was as if on autopilot that you made it to the garage and hotwired one of Tony’s cars.

Scenery was flashing by you, mere streaks outside the windows of the car. The pedal was on the floor beneath your foot. You flexed your fingers; knuckles having gone white with the force of your grip on the steering wheel. Your brain was showing you visuals of Wanda lying on the table, shining green eyes dulled in the absence of life. Head too wrapped up in the thoughts that ran through it, you didn’t realize you weren’t headed for the hospital at all. You were headed toward midtown, exactly where Natasha had told you not to go.

You’d never been an Avenger. You would never be an Avenger. Maybe it was selfish, refusing to help others when you had the ability to. People died and you might have been able to stop it. Your own powers scared you too much to allow you to. It was something you’d decided long ago. The lives of every civilian that you could have saved were worth it. You couldn’t unleash that sinister thing that lived inside you. Yet, here you were, rushing toward the fight like you were Tony Stark in his suit of armour, or Steve Rogers with a vibranium shield strapped to your back.

The car screeched as you slammed your foot down on the brake. The seatbelt dug so hard into your ribs that you weren’t sure a few hadn’t snapped beneath the pressure. The adrenaline pumping through your veins assured you wouldn’t feel it even if they did. You fought to keep your breathing under control as you stepped out of the car and took in the destruction around you. Someone here had hurt Wanda, and, honestly, you couldn’t find it in you to care which one it had been. You’d kill every single one.

Gravel and rubble crunched beneath your feet as you ventured further and further into the warzone that had broken out in Midtown New York. They looked human, whoever they were. They were armed to the teeth and attacking every moving thing in sight. None of them had noticed you yet. That was better for both of you, for the time being. You shut your eyes for a brief moment and listen to the sounds around you. Civilians were screaming and car alarms were blaring and explosions roared. Then there was running, and it stopped at your side.

“I told you not to come here. Wanda’s at the hospital.”

You opened your eyes. Natasha was at your side. Blood trickled down her temple, staining her pale skin. She flinched as she put weight on her left leg to move a little closer to you. Wanda might have been the woman you called your own, but the Avengers were your family. Seeing one of them hurting in the way Natasha was only stoked the fire that was beginning to burn hotter and hotter inside of you. Your gaze moved away from her and back to the oncoming forces. They were getting closer.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Tony’s cars have trackers. We got an alert the second you left the compound and another as you came here. Get to the hospital.”

But you’d already stopped listening. The incoming threat had gotten close enough to notice you now. Green eyes followed your gaze until she, too, noticed the men approaching the two of you. She raised her arm, the gun still clutched tight in her grip. You could tell by the bewildered expression on her face that she hadn’t at all been expecting you to stop her. Your hand grabbed her wrist, lowering her arm until it was back against her side. You suspected it was the crimson gleam in your eyes that was the only thing that was keeping her weapon lowered.

You turned back to her once more. Surprise was written across every feature on her face… no, it was fear. She was afraid. She should be scared of you. Your skin began to blacken as you began to fade into nothing. Her eyes were still able to find yours, glowing bright as ever. She flinched when you reached out, backing up as you reached for her hand in an attempt for a final goodbye. You bowed your head, wishing she’d let you feel the warmth of her skin beneath your hand one final time.

“I’m sorry, Natasha.”

Then you turned away from her. The last of your human form faded away. It was hard to make out any shape in the tall, dark shadow that you’d become. Haunting golden eyes cast to the men that were racing toward you. As if to match the scene, a dark cloud rolled in front of the sun. Its shadow cast down onto the city, the darkness concealing you even further and making your eyes glow seemingly brighter. They continued to approach. They didn’t know their mistake. You did. You were dangerous at any time. You were more dangerous now that they’d hurt the person you loved more than you had ever loved before.

You raised your arms into the sky, feet leaving the ground. When your feet had been touching the concrete below them, you’d already been towering over the oncoming men. Now, you looked down upon them. Guns raised to where you hovered in the sky. It was almost comical. One of them screamed, and suddenly they were all firing. Their bullets tore through you, yet they didn’t touch you. Your head tilted to the side ever so slightly as an unsettling grin appeared in your dark shadow, disrupted by the whiz of dozens of bullets flying through it.

“Knock knock,” you said. Even your voice was sinister, a deep rumble that felt like it emanated from every direction, or deep inside of any listener.

The laughter that burst from their chests was strange, at first. It seemed out of place in such a setting. Confusion flickered across each of their faces. Then they laughed harder, and harder. Guns fell to the ground and they howled with laughter, but it contrasted their eyes. There was no sparkle of amusement in even one. It was pure, unbridled fear that you could see shining in them. One by one they fell to their knees, clawing at their throats as they tried to stop. One had tears streaming down his cheeks as he covered his ears, trying to block out the sounds that were torn from his own throat.

They couldn’t get in their comms to tell their men to keep away.

The next group that came for you met the same fate. Soon they, too, were on the ground. You got some sort of sick satisfaction as you watched them fall, unable to control their bodies. You’d taken over, grabbing hold of their heads and their bodies. You’d grabbed onto their lungs and ripped laughter from their chests, absolutely uncontrollable. When they lost control of that, that was when the fear started to take over. Fear would grip at them; you could feel it emanating off them. It would only get worse. You’d watched men take their lives as they lost their minds.

There was a reason you never used your powers. You were afraid of them, sure. The reason you were afraid of them, however, wasn’t because of their strength. Their strength could have saved lives. It wasn’t even because you couldn’t control them. You were addicted to your own powers. You took pride in watching grown men reduced to tears, curled up on the ground, shaking like an abused puppy. Your sick satisfaction was what you feared.

Was this what it felt like to be an Avenger? Were you taking pride in watching the civilians able to run from the scene, or was your pride in the fact that they no longer feared the invading forces, but you instead? The men were rendered immobile as the New Yorkers ran far from the scene. There you were in the centre of it, arms outstretched eyes gleaming, and grin growing wider and ever more evil. Natasha was still hovering just outside of your reach. You could feel her. You turned to face her. You could tell by the look in her eyes that she no longer recognized you. She put her lips to her comm.

“Evacuate the area. Don’t come down this way. Clint, go check on Wanda.”

Wanda.

Your powers ceased. No one rose right away. It would take some time for them to recover. They were gasping for breath. Their arms were too preoccupied hugging themselves tight to bother even trying to wipe the tears that covered many of their faces. Some of them were even rocking back and forth as the effect wore off. You dropped to the ground, human form taking back over. Your eyes were back to normal as you looked to Natasha once more. Neither of you said anything, but you took off running.

*

You pulled your hood up further, gaze locked to your black running shoes. You couldn’t help but feel like every set of eyes was on you. That’s how it felt, you supposed, being wanted by every agency on the planet. With the ability to change your form, though, it was pretty easy to hide in plain sight. Your footsteps echoed on the hard floor beneath your feet as you kept forward. Anyone who saw you would know you were on a mission. You knew exactly where you were going.

She was sleeping when you arrived. The cuts on her body had been stitched and bandaged, and her broken arm had been cast. Sam’s signature was already present on the red material, accompanied by a bad drawing of a bird. You couldn’t help but smile a little to yourself at that. Hopefully, it had kept a smile on her face as her world fell into turmoil, something undoubtedly caused by you. That simple fact would always break your heart. You had to turn to the window to keep the tears at bay.

When you turned back to Wanda, her green eyes were on you. There was something in her eyes that you couldn’t quite read. Her head tilted to the side as she looked at you, in a form that would be unrecognizable. It wasn’t just hiding you from the authorities, but it was hiding you from her. It was protecting her from you. She didn’t need to know that it was you, the woman who had never for a single second deserved to love her or be loved by her. A small smile grew on her lips.

“You forget I can read minds, my love.”

Of course. Wanda had always promised you she’d never read your mind. She would never violate your privacy like that. Right now, though, standing in her hospital room, you hadn’t been you. Obviously, she’d found it appropriate to peek into the mind of the stranger who had been watching her sleep. You should have been mortified. You’d never wanted her to know that you were here. Instead, a large part of you was relieved.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” she breathed out. “So, that was quite the secret.”

Even though you deserved it, it still felt like a knife to the heart when she said it aloud. You nodded slowly, cracking your knuckles nervously. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

You studied her face. Wanda really was a saint, with powers like the ones she had. She was kind, thoughtful, and respectful. You were sure if you’d had her powers right then, you’d be digging through her mind trying to find out what she was thinking. Her eyes weren’t showing you enough. They were calm, though, and it was keeping you calm. Your breathing was level and your head was steady on your shoulders, something you wouldn’t have had been able to say only five short minutes ago.

“Are you afraid?” You managed.

“No,” she assured instantly. “Confused. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You breathed out slowly. “I didn’t want to hurt you. My powers? They’ll hurt you.”

“Will you hurt me?”

“Never!” You insisted. “I… I only hurt them because they hurt you.”

She smiled. “Then I’m not afraid.”

She beckoned you. You padded slowly toward the bed, watching as she stared up at you with an amount of love and adoration that you didn't deserve. Wanda glanced at the door, making sure no one was there to see, and then took your hand in hers, tugging on it to get you to sit down next to her. Instant calm washed over you, drowning out any negative, scared thoughts that had been in your head for days previous. It was like her hand was a lifeline, keeping you anchored on the spot. In the last few days, you’d been anything but calm and present.

You’d been a wreck without her, not knowing if she’d hate you… if you even saw her again. You didn’t know if you’d be able to feel her touch again, to feel her hands on your cheeks or to feel her grab onto you and pull you into a searing kiss the way she did. But you had seen her again, and, somehow, she didn’t hate you. Now, it seemed now you could get oxygen flowing through your body again. Still, you were uncertain.

“And can you forgive me?” You asked, voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it. “Can you ever love me again?”

Wanda took her free hand and put it on the underside of your chin, tilting your gaze up to hers. “I see nothing that has to be forgiven.” She brushed her thumb across your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “I love you. I will never, ever stop loving you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise you,” she assured.

She leaned forward and then her lips were on yours. It took you a second to realize the salty taste was from the tears that were streaming down your cheeks, but it didn’t seem to be bothering the Sokovian. Both of your hands found hers and you held tight, as if afraid you’d never see her again if you dared to let go. She slipped one hand out of yours as she pulled back, using it to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m sorry I kept it from you,” you muttered.

“I’m sorry you were so scared all alone.”

Your heart swelled. You really had found the perfect woman. “You’re really too good to me. You know that?”

Wanda laughed. “You deserve the world. You know that?”

With the way you tucked yourself against her in a hug, it was obvious she knew you felt the same of her. Her hand stroked your hair as you finally, for the first time ever, felt absolute ease and a sense of peace. Hiding that secret from Wanda had been the second hardest thing you’d ever done. The hardest had been coming clean with it. You snuggled a little closer to her, burying your head into the crook of her neck and mumbling against her skin.

“I’ll never hide anything from you again. I promise.”

Wanda pulled you away so she could look at you. “While we’re revealing secrets, I suppose I should tell you about the engagement ring in my jacket pocket.”

[strsburn]

destiny led me to you | loki

pairing - loki laufeyson x female reader

synopsis - driven by the heartbreak of losing your entire world by the hands of thanos, you set out to find him, leaving destruction in your path in multiple universes; thus creating a horde of branches in the timeline and catching the attention of the TVA.

but you would do it all again if it meant you could see him once more.

notes - this is hopefully going to be a series, depending on the feedback i receive, i plan to follow the episodes only slightly because i dont want it to be an exact copy of the show.

[THIS WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR LOKI SERIES]

idea credit ( @horrorisunknowntoyou ) thank you for the inspo and allowing me to run with it!

warnings - death, violence, angst, and possible smut (in later chapters?)

wc - 2.4k

MASTERLIST • AO3

"Dread it, run from it. Destiny arrives all the same." A wrinkled hand reaches for your chin, running prune colored fingers along your jawline, doting; mockingly.

Your heartbeat pulses loudly in your ears, eyes glazing over with exhaustion and pain as you attempt to glare, the notion in vain as the titan merely chuckled amusedly.

"I can see great power in you, little one. An infinity stone pulses beneath your every vein. Tell me, where is the tesseract?"

You remain silent.

"We don't have the tesseract, it was destroyed along with all of Asgard." Thor interjects weakly from where he lies, his body held tightly in the arms of the black order.

Guilt sweeps across your being as you make eye contact with Loki, sharing a single nod as you both know what you must do.

Thanos grows annoyed with your unwillingness to comply as he walks over with loud steps, his footprints visible as he raises his gauntlet up, the power stone shining threateningly close to Thor.

"The tesseract, or your brother's head. I assume you have a preference." It's not a question. Merely a statement, one that Loki knows he must prove unbothered.

"Oh, I do. Kill away." To anyone else it would seem he couldn't care less about his brother's demise, but you know your love better than he does himself and you catch the glance of fear that washes over cerulean eyes.

You can only watch in trepidation as the stone makes contact with the God's head. Agonized cries escaping as his skin is burned by the mere power of the stone.

Loki does his best to look unaffected, but you catch the hitch in his breath as he batters inner turmoil. the universe, or his brother.

"Alright, that's enough!"

Loki turns his palm up, as a familiar blue cube materializes in his hand. The eerie blue glow casting a shadow upon his face.

Thanos steps away, smug. You force yourself to look away from Thor's accusing gaze.

"You truly are the worst, brother." Thor shakes his head, eyes disappointed but not surprised.

As Thanos moves to take the stone from his hand cerulean blue eyes make contact with your own and you feel a wave of fear wash over you as you recognize the look in Loki's eyes.

"I assure you, brother. The sun will shine on us again." He does not move his gaze from your own and you can't help but feel this is an unspoken goodbye.

"Your optimism is misplaced, asgardian."

"Well, for one thing, I'm not asgardian. For another, we have a hulk."

In a blur of color you are shoved from where you lie, a slithe figure covering your own as you breathe in the familiar scent of cinnamon and leather.

"We don't have much time, my love. I just want you to know that I love you dearly, and I am grateful for the time I had with you. May I see you again, in Valhalla." His eyes are teary and you barely process his words, as his hands grab hold of your face and pull you into a kiss.

The kiss is desperate, filled with love and grief and you can only briefly kiss your love back as he steps closer to Thanos, rambling on about undying fidelity.

You catch a glimpse of silver behind his back and you gasp as realization sets in.

You move to reach him just as he leaps for Thanos, the knife poised for his head, frozen in mid air as the stones across his knuckles pulse.

"Undying fidelity, you should choose your words more wisely."

You cry out as Loki struggles in his grip, his skin fading blue. You crawl forward, legs aching as you reach for him, your progress hinged by your inability to walk.

"You will never be a god." The rasped words are followed by a snap as his neck gives out beneath Thanos' hands.

A tortured scream rings out and it takes you a second to realize it's your own. A broken sob leaves you as you crawl forward to reach where Thanos has carelessly thrown the body of your love.

You heave as your shaky fingers caress his face, his lifeless eyes staring ahead as you clutch him to your chest.

You rock back and forth knotting your fingers in his hair as you plead for the nightmare to end.

"No resurrections this time."

A portal opens and closes behind you, yet you make no motion to move.

You simply close your eyes and welcome the sweet release of death as the universe explodes around you.

N E W Y O R K 2 0 1 2

"'Coordinates for search and rescue, on my way now.' I mean honestly, how-" Loki is promptly shut up by the mouth guard that decorates his face, courtesy of his brother.

Displeasure makes an appearance as Loki is led to the elevator followed by the avengers that quickly file in. The only source of entertainment being the temper tantrum the green beast throws as he is denied entry. Loki can hardly contain his glee as he waves mockingly as the doors close.

As he is led to the ground floor his cuffed hands clinking annoyingly with every step he glances wearily around himself, dreading the lecture that is sure to come once he reaches asgard. He has no doubt in his mind that Odin will find perfect reason to throw him to the wolves, lest his mother get involved.

As he contemplates, his attention is caught by the sound of his brother calling for help, the guards holding him, attending to what he perceives to be a heart attack, to none other than the man of metal.

He watches, confused as a small stature kicks the case holding the tesseract away from view as the others tend to Stark.

Looking around bemused he watches to see what will conspire next. Before any other move can be made a shout is heard as the doors to the staircase along with the wall is torn apart, the hulk making his distaste for the tedious activity known.

For once since meeting the beast he feels thankful, as the case holding the tesseract is knocked open, the familiar cube sliding towards his foot.

A beat passes and grabbing a hold of the familiar cube he glances around, vanishing in a thin cloud of blue.

T V A U N K N O W N

Hurried footsteps echo down the corridor as the man moves with barely contained excitement. Tie swinging to and fro, a slightly wrinkled hand pulls at the collar of his neck nervously.

Mobius had seen many variants in his time at the TVA. Yet, none had ever come close to interesting as the file he currently held in one hand. Variant L1130 or Loki, as he was called, was perhaps one of the most complicated cases he had come across.

Born as a legend of mythology it was quite unbelievable to know that not only was he real, but he happened to be in their custody for creating a new branch in the timeline. Mobius could only hope Renslayer would agree to allowing him to be the God's superior.

Entering the courtroom, Mobius sits down and watches with rapt attention as Loki attempts to bargain with Ravonna. His plans are foiled as he tries to call upon his magic in a last effort to escape.

Mobius feels it's time to intervene when Renslayer makes it clear he is to be executed.

"You have no idea what I am capable of!"

"Actually I might have an idea of what he is capable of." He offers as he makes his way up to the stand.

His plea must be written across his face as Ravonna leans over to look at him directly.

"Whatever you're planning, it's a bad idea." She warns.

Nonetheless she reluctantly lets him go and Mobius has to fight off the urge to fist pump the air as he escorts Loki down the hallway.

"Oh, I'm Agent Mobius by the way." He offers a hand that is quickly ignored.

He can practically see the distrust written on Loki's face, his eyes calculating every move he makes.

Mobius is hardly surprised that as soon as he enters the room, his back turned to the God as he adjusts his projector, Loki is surging forward to attack. He doesn't even bat an eyelash as he clicks a button on his remote, resetting the God as if the action never even happened.

"C'mon, let's take a look at some of your greatest hits." Mobius waves a hand, as Loki curiously sits down, eyes trained on the projector.

He finds himself staring back at a hologram of his attack on New York. His blue eyes darting back and forth with glee as chaos erupts around him.

A feeling of something akin to shame runs down his spine as he recalls his reign of terror on the city, an illusion of preying on the weak to hide his own fear, lest he fail and succumb to Thanos and his minions.

Loki clenches his jaw, arms crossing over his form in an attempt to hide himself as he turns to avoid the screen.

"I see no point in this-"

"No, no wait, this is just getting good." Mobius grins as he points to the screen and Loki finds himself once again face to face with another variation of himself.

He briefly recalls the time he had lost a bet to Thor and had to change his form into that of a ginger haired man wearing a clean three piece suit, claiming he had a bomb and required over two hundred thousand in midgardian money just to see if he could pull it off. He did, in fact, pull it off, but his mother was not happy as well as the midgardians who failed to solve the case, naming him D.B. Cooper as they had no clue as to his real identity.

His attention is pulled to the screen as a familiar voice of silk enters the scene and he watches as his mother speaks to his future self, his eyes drawn into her face.

"Then am I not your mother?" He hears her ask. Yes, you are.

"No. You are not." Loki's eyes start to mist as he watches the look of hurt pass over his mother's features before she schools her expression into one of contempt.

"Always so perceptive, about everyone but yourself." She decides.

The screen flickers and he sees himself talking to an intruder, his voice amused as he suggests the monster to take the stairs to the left.

Then, his mother, Frigga, lying on the cold ground, a puddle of red growing rapidly beneath her body as her eyes remained closed.

His breath hitches, anger now licking up his spine. He turns sharply to Mobius who smartly remains silent.

"What is this! Some cruel joke? Where is she?! Where do you have her?"

Mobius steps forward, expression neutral as he speaks.

"She's dead Loki. This is the future, it's destined to happen, again and again because that's how it should be."

Loki falters his eyes narrowing as he spits "You're lying! I'll kill you!"

"What? Like you killed your mother."

There's a split second of silence before an angered shout is heard, a chair splitting the air as it crashes into pieces along the floor.

Before anything else can be said Mobius is summoned by Hunter B-15, his eyes falling to Loki who remains silent and he leaves with a slight tinge of guilt burrowing in his chest at the haunted look in the God's eyes.

"You think yourself so sly don't you." Loki looks up at the unfamiliar voice as the projector suddenly comes to life, a new image flicking gently on screen. His eyes catch upon your form and he watches in awe and wonder as you sit beside his future self.

"I don't think, love. I know." He grins leaning in to steal a kiss from you that leaves you both breathless.

He watches as your eyes are filled with nothing but love and adoration for him as you lean into his side.

"Loki?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

Loki tilts his head in contemplation as he looks to you, before a soft grin pulls at his lips.

"I didn't until I met you. I know that no matter who or what tries to tear us apart, we will always find a way back to each other."

A smile breaks out onto your face and Loki watches in stunned silence as the clip ends with the two of your voices fading into laughter.

"You two are meant to be together."

Loki turns as Mobius slowly comes to a stop behind him, his expression thoughtful.

"I don't enjoy hurting people you know." He responds, motioning towards the screen in reference to his attack on New York and the death of his mother.

Mobius doesn't respond, and he takes that as a sign to continue.

"I do it because I have to. Because I've had to." He looks down as he fiddles with his fingers.

Mobius hums as he replies.

"Why? Why do you think that is?"

"It's part of the illusion. It's the cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear."

Realization lights up in Mobius' eyes as he answers back.

"A desperate play for control. You do know yourself."

"A villain." Loki sums up.

"Not the way I see it."

There's a mutual silence between them before Mobius sighs.

"Look I can't offer you salvation but I can offer you something better. A fugitive variant has been killing our minutemen."

"And let me guess, you need the God of Mischief to help you stop him."

"That's right."

"How could I possibly be of use to you?"

"That's the thing. The variant we are hunting, we believe is y/n." Mobius looks towards the projector where your image is still.

"I beg your pardon?"

U N K N O W N

Mutilated bodies line the floor as a hooded figure steps over them, eyes glowing an unnatural hue.

"Is it finished?"

"Yes."

A wicked laugh fills the empty space as a portal opens in the deserted land, a set of footsteps following through.

"I'm coming for you, my love."

[atveren]

The Monstadt and Liyue boys: You are the victim of a killing game+you as the blackened

Diluc, Venti, Albedo, Chongyun, Kazuha, Childe, Aether, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli, Scaramouche

Warnings: Blood, Death, Self-Hate, Self-Blaming, Depression Mentions, Swearing, Injury Detail, Execution Detail, All detail described is vivid, but original, slight mentions of suicidal intentions. Be warned, this fic is not for the faint of heart. I’m on mobile, so please scroll past if any of this triggers you.

Based off of Danganronpa, but not many spoilers for the games.

Gender Neutral (You/Yours, They/Them)

Ultimates will be put next to the GI characters names, and yours will be ‘(Ultimate Talent)’.

They still possess their visions

This may interfere with canon, but this is an AU so that doesn’t matter. Also it breaks some rules of Danganronpa, and again this a fanfiction so take that as you will.

The executions will be on a seperate line, if you’d prefer to skip the detail.

Requests are open! For Genshin Impact only at the moment.

Diluc, The Ultimate Winery Owner

Your body is found

Diluc had remained level headed throughout this ordeal, especially since you were there. He believed he had to protect you, and would do anything for you to both escape. It was just another day, during free time when the body announcement played. He sighed, knowing how upset you’d be, you were usually one of the unlucky few that ran into the body first. Unlike usual, you hadn’t ran off to find him. “Maybe they haven’t found it yet..” He muttered, his mind not dare travelling to the darkest assumption. As he walked, he became more concerned. Hopefully, you were just asleep in your dorm and had missed the announcement. As Diluc approached the area, he noticed the guilty glances of others. He was confused, and upon entering the room, he froze. He didn’t want to believe it. There you were, chest slashed open. It was a gruesome sight, he felt sick. He rushed to your side, not wanting to believe this was real. But when he grabbed your arm, and it was cold. He blamed himself, he was meant to protect you. He didn’t want to lose you too. But he did, and he snapped. Nobody saw him until the trial. And when your killer was found out? Well, he almost killed them himself. It wouldn’t be surprising if he turned into a blackened.

You are the Blackened.

“And that would make the killer, (Full Name).” One of the others had announced. Your boyfriend stared at you, in denial. You let out a laugh. “Oh, well done. You got it right.” You seemed nonchalant about it, and shrugged. The voting was quickly dealt, despite Diluc’s protests. When Monokuma announced that yes, it was you, Diluc still couldn’t believe it. He walked over to you. “Why?” He questioned, but his voice was breaking. “Well, I wasn’t planning on getting caught. I wanted us out of here, no matter the cost.” You said with a sigh. You seemed frustrated your plan hadn’t gone through. He stared at you, with shock. He didn’t believe it, he never would. But he knew what came next, you’d both seen it before. He didn’t give the others a chance to get near you, and embraced you. You gave smiled one final time at the Ultimate Winery Owner, before the chain locked around your neck, ripping you out his arms.

Your Execution.

Everyone was silent, as it started, but Diluc stared blankly, and if it wasn’t clear, he was in silent tears. He didn’t want to watch this, but it was like he was in a trance. You were tied down to a chair, something that looked like it was from an older time. There were mumbles about how this would go, most of the survivors being confused. That was until wine bottles were smashed against the ground near you, and he knew what was coming next. He wanted to rush in, and try stopping it, but it was like you could sense his thoughts, and practically froze him with a glare. The next part, broke the man, fully. A match was thrown into the spilled alcohol, and it engulfed the area in flames. Your screams and pleas destroyed whatever happiness he had left. And when the execution was over, he made a mental promise to be joining you soon.

Venti, The Ultimate Bard

Your body is found

The bard was always desperate for his freedom to be back, but he wouldn’t kill, no. Especially not if there was a chance you could be hurt. He’d developed an attachment to you throughout this, and you’d spend many nights in one another’s dorms. You’d listen as he strums his Lyre, one of the few things keeping you both sane through this hellhole. That all came crumbling down, as he was the first to find your body, and screamed. Others rushed in, and Venti was hyperventilating. He wouldn’t believe this, he couldn’t. He refused to leave your body’s side. As much as the way you were murdered made him disgusted to see, he just wanted his moments to say goodbye. “I’m so sorry, (Name)...I failed to protect someone again.” He sobbed out once the others had left to search for clues elsewhere. When the killer was announced, Venti sure did have a few choice words with them. He was screaming, and wouldn’t calm down. His composure was lost, and he wasn’t the same after losing you too.

You’re the blackened.

Venti couldn’t believe his eyes as your name was voted by everyone. And when it was comfirmed? The bard ran to you and clung to your body. He begged you for an answer, and when you said it was for his freedom? He sobbed. He said things he didn’t mean, and you knew he didn’t, not taking them to heart. His gaze was hidden from the monochrome bear, and you nodded at it. Signalling the end of your time. You knew there was no where to run, and you feared that the male you’d loved would be hurt if you made a break for it. You kissed Venti on the forehead, muttering your gentle apology and that you loved him. He mumbled an ‘I love you too’ and you knew he forgave you. But just as the words had left his mouth, you were ripped from him, now facing your death.

Your Execution.

Venti couldn’t watch, he knew you didn’t want him to. “I’m so sorry, (Name)..” He said under his breath, while crying. You couldn’t guess what would come next, when an instrument was shoved in your hands. If you messed up a note, the asphyxiation from the chain would only be slowed, not stopped. You just wanted this over with, and played to the best of your abilites. Venti covered his ears, he couldn’t listen or watch. When it was over, he dropped to his knees still sobbing, and it took one of the others dragging him to get him to move. He was rarely seen again, unless needed. There never was a spark in his eye, like before. Any melody the others heard when passing by was dark, it made them sad just hearing it.

Albedo, The Ultimate Alchemist

Your body is found

The two of you had developed a relationship, both having being considered ‘outcasts’ from the others. He would teach you of alchemy, and you would teach him (ultimate talent). You shared a gentle bond, even if at times it didn’t seem like you were all that close around the others, both minding your own business. It was a late night and you were in his ultimate lab, he calmly asked you to try this one thing he’d been working on, and you agreed, knowing he would never hurt you on purpose. You took the glass from him, and drank it. You soon felt your eyes grow heavy, and it was as if your pulse was slowing. Albedo gently called your name, concern written in his eyes. You couldn’t reply, seconds later, limply dropping against him. He felt panic rise, checking for any sign of life, and didn’t find it. In the trial, he was mostly silent. And upon his guilty judge? He accepted it, he was furious at himself, the one person that trusted him, died by his hands? Who wouldn’t that anger?

You are the blackened.

You laughed as your name was announced and Albedo stared. He didn’t want to believe it, but he did accept it. There was nothing he could change, nor do about this. He wished you’d just spoken to him, and told him to do it. He would have, especially since you did it so he would be free from all this. Your boyfriend approached you, and hugged you. The others muttered things of ‘Well that wasn’t a surprise’ and the like. You gave him a soft kiss, before accepting your fate. “Now! We’ve got a special punishment for (Full Name) The (Ultimate Talent)!” With that, you were chained and tied to a pole. “This is an especially special punishment, made by one your own!” The monochrome bear called out. There were confused yells, people panicking at one another. Who would it be?

Your Execution.

The lights flickered off, then on again. But it was a spotlight. The light fell on Albedo. “What..?” He questioned, staring at the others. Just as his question fell from his lips, an agonizing scream could be heard on your end. Chemicals upon chemicals were being launched at you. The others yelled at him, wondering how he could do something like this to somebody he’d called a lover. Albedo didn’t know, and called out again. “But..I never wanted this?! Especially not for them..” He recieved a laugh in return. “Now now, dear alchemist. If you hadn’t prepared all of these, your supposed sweetheart would’ve just had a quick little death! This is all *your* fault~” Monokuma said with a sing-song tone. He was lying, this would’ve had the same outcome no matter what Albedo did. But, the alchemist believed him. And cried. It was silent, and he didn’t realise it, but he was crying.He fully blamed himself, there was after all no evidence otherwise. It didn’t take long before he was considered dangerous, and avoided

Chongyun, The Ultimate Exorcist

Your body is found

An argument had been a bit too heated for him, and his condition acted up. You’d went with him, to the small area of his lab that was colder than the rest. He would normally come with you there, to calm down. Usually, you were dressed more appropriately for the temperature. You didn’t worry this time, more concerned over your boyfriend. You stayed cuddled close to him, but the temperature soon became too much. You didn’t want to upset him further, and stayed silent. He didn’t notice. You slowly felt your eyes shut, and rested more against him. He felt the weight, and went to tap your hand to let you know that he was fine now. But then he felt the skin that was far too cold. He screamed, and others rushed in. He didn’t forgive himself. He should have known, noticed, anything...Many nights were spent crying himself to sleep.

You’re the blackened

Disbelief, and thats all. He didn’t forgive you, but he did at the same time. He hated and loved you. It hurt, badly. And upon hearing your reasoning? He became more conflicted. He was lucky he brought popsicles, because otherwise it wouldn’t be good for him. He saw your stressed expression and sighed, before walking over and hugging you. You would be dead soon, anyway. This is the least he could do. The moment came all too fast, and then you were gone.

Your Execution

You had to try fending off spirits, but they weren’t real. You grew tired, fast as they weren’t normal opponents, plus the cold chill wasn’t anything better. Chongyun realised far too late he wasn’t mad, and he still loved you fully. He almost called it out to you, but you slipped up and were killed. It was bloody, and he felt sick. He hated this feeling. He just wanted you back, and in his arms. At the very least, you were out of this game, and resting somewhere. Maybe...maybe he would join you early. This was caused by him, after all.

Kazuha, The Ultimate Poet

Your Body is Found

You and the poet were close from the beginning. It hadn’t been long for a relationship to bloom from that. He would also tell you stories of his time at sea, while you both stayed together in the late evenings. You had said to him you just wanted to go grab a book, and he believed you’d be fine. That proved to be a fatal mistake, as when you entered the library, you were killed by a set trap. Kazuha waited, for an hour, before growing worried and rushing to your last known location. Being the library. He saw your body, and the panic rised. He quickly got everybody together, and was one of the main people during the investigation. At the trial, he was the first suspect, being the last person to be seen with you, and for not showing much emotion, but with his evidence, he was proven guilt free and the killer was found. They certainly didn’t expect the insults that flew from his mouth. He was anything but calm now. He’d lost two people by not being there in time, of course he was pissed off.

You are the blackened

Silence. That’s all you were met with. You couldn’t blame him, and you didn’t want to guilt him so you made an excuse as to why you killed. You had done it so the two of you could be free and sail off. You claimed it was because you were bored, and wanted something interesting to happen. He didn’t approach you. He just stared. It was disheartening. He still loved you, he just...he needed time. Time neither of you had. Not when you yelled out an apology as you were dragged to your final moments and any chance he had to let you know he forgives you, was gone.

Your Execution

You were sat in a chair, a book was slammed in front of you. Metallic hands wrapped around your neck and you guess what to do. Maybe...maybe you could survive this? You read, slowly, the poetry in hand. It was a painstaking process, but when you got to the end of the book, and lowered it, you thought it was over. Maybe this was a lucky chance? That was until you were finally choked fully. Kazuha knew he had time to yell it, that he did forgive you. But that was all gone now. You’d never know that he did love you still, despite everything. He’d lost two people close to him, and was now shut down. And tired.

Tartaglia, The Ultimate Freestyle Martial Artist

Your Body Is Found

You’d both taken a habit of approaching one another with an invitation to spar. It had started with him doing it solely to train you to defend yourself, but then it became a game to the both of you. Childe had decided today he would find you, as you’d snuck up often on him. He entered your dorm, calling out your name. What he didn’t expect was it to be a mess, and have things broken. “(Name)? Are you here? Is this a prank....?” He had asked, while walking around, looking for you, but he never expected the site of your cold, dead body under a table. He approached, almost laughing. “Come on now, (Name), this isn’t funny.” He reached his hand out, to grab your own, but being met with the cold feeling, he jumped back. He stared, and stared. He was in denial. He wouldn’t believe it. He didn’t. Not even at the trial. Not afterwards, not even at his own death, did he ever believe you were dead. He knew it was stupid, but somewhere inside he believed that this was some cruel joke, and you would both return home at some point.

You are the blackened

In case you had any doubt, Childe forgave you instantly as the news was announced. You thanked him, and he held you. He wasn’t upset or mad at you in the slightest. However, he was furious at Monokuma, knowing your execution would happen in mere moments. He held you, not wanting to let you go, ever. Tartaglia kissed your forehead, and muttered an ‘I love you.’ You smiled at him, before being dragged away.

Your Execution

A pole was thrown in your arms as these things started to attack, you tried defending yourself, but it was hard. You thought you’d have a way out, but the stage you were on became slippery and wet, and you struggled. Childe felt a fury burn inside bright than before, and ran to your aid, disarming one of the things and using that to defend you and himself. It seemed to be going well, but they were coming faster than either of you could handle. Tartaglia swore he would get you out of there, but that all fell down as you missed a hit and were killed with one blow. Everyone thought it was over, but they kept attacking, eventually overpowering him too. At the very least, you were able to die together.

Aether, The Ultimate Traveller

Your body was found

Aether didn’t believe his eyes, not when he saw the person he promised to be with forever, dead, stabbed so many times and blood marking most of your skin. It was horrifying, some of it wasn’t even a knife, it looked like an axe or something. At the trial, he snapped. He’d already been seperated from his sister, and now this? You were the one person he told everything to. And now you were dead? Aether was beyond pissed. He normally was sweet and pretty chill, but that was gone. All the frustration he had, was taken out on the killer. If it wasn’t for the fact he knew you’d be upset wherever you were, Aether probably would’ve killed them. He also had to find Lumine, and couldn’t do that while dead.

You are the blackened

He had one question. “Why?” He wasn’t mad, or upset, he just wanted to know. And when you quietly confessed it was so he could see his sister again? He cried. He held you close. He didn’t let you go. Not as the votes were cast, not as it was confirmed you were the blackened. He couldn’t be mad at you, after you’d given up your life so he could leave you guilt free? Maybe..there was a way he could save you. He didn’t have time to debate, as you were ripped straight from him. He made a promise if he could, he would try to save you.

Your Execution.

A fight. That was what you had to. Survive the swarms and swarms of enemies. Aether rushed in quickly, not giving anybody time to protest. You both fought, back to back. But it grew tiring, very tiring. Eventually, you were stabbed, and it pierced deep. You dropped down, sobbing out for him, and he froze up. This caused him to be also hit down. The blade was ripped from your back, and he reached his hand out, just to comfort you. He knew this was it, your and his death would be for nothing. Just as he was about to grab your hand, one of the bots stepped on it, shattering the bone. At the same time he grasped his own hand, you were brutally stabbed multiple times in front of him. He sobbed, before being killed off with blunt force to the head. He knew Lumine wouldn’t find out. They’d been seperated again, and she was in another world entirely.

Xiao, The Ultimate Adeptus

Your body is found

You and him weren’t close, per se. But still found comfort in the other’s presence. You and him had this sort of thing where you would watch out for each other. He, however, kept more of a constant gaze on you. Xiao never took his duty to protect you lightly. He slipped up once. You called his name just a second too late. He found the killer fast, luckily. They were luckily he didn’t kill them right there. He was...angry. At himself. Not at you. He made the mistake, he wasn’t watching you.

You’re the blackened.

Forgiven. Immediately. You apologised and all he did was...hold you? He apologised in return, and confessed the feelings harbouring in his heart. You blinked at him, shocked. But you reciprocated the feelings, and told him so. He felt regret he hadn’t said it sooner. Maybe then...but he didn’t have to reconsider his foolish decision as you were dragged down the hall.

Your Execution..?

Run. Thats all you could do. You ran and ran while the monokuma bots chased you. It also felt like you were running out of air. You wanted to survive...and knew what you had to. You called out Xiao’s name, just soft enough. And he had to. He appeared by you and fought to your defence. The two of you ran, and ran more. Amd fought too. It seemed like the exit was in sight. And it was, but it was closing fast and..only one of you would make it. Xiao knew what he had to do, and sped up, shoving you through the exit...and he followed. You were...free. It was surprising and you gasped for oxygen, clinging to him. It surprised both of you, neither of you thinking you’d make it.

Zhongli, The Ultimate Storyteller

Your body is found

Close. You were close from the day you came here. Many nights were spent in each other’s arms, him telling tales upon tales. You’d listen with interest. But that’s the fond memories he looked back upon. Now, he was alone. Without your constant questions, and curiosity. Without your hopeful reminder that you’ll both make it out. All that was left was this trial room, and your to be found killer.

You’re the blackened

Forgiveness, again. He pulled you into the safety of his arms as your confession to the others spilled out. You admitted it was selfish, and you just wanted him and yourself to be free. They weren’t happy, but understood. That’s all most of them wanted, anyway. Zhongli could feel your pulse begin to race, and slowly whispered one of your favourite stories. It calmed you slowly, and you were ready to accept what faced you.

Your Execution

The drag and then being locked to a pole? Painful, much? He wanted to avert his gaze. But you would expirience that, and it would be just rude of him to ignore you. He felt sick watching the Execution happen. Books flew at you from angles and at rapid paces. You sobbed out for help, but nobody could do anything. It was a cruel reality, but...maybe there was a chance? He thought, as your battered body dropped down from the pole...and you moved. It sounded like...like warmth. Safety...You heard him call for you...You tried moving to the sound, and just as you felt you could reach it, your skull was bashed in the final time. He only stared. He was...he couldn’t take it. The pain was overwhelming..He wished he could just take you into his arms and say everything is fine but...it wasn’t. And it never will be.

Xingqiu, The Ultimate Writer

Your body is found

A prank. That’s all it was meant to be, just a harmless little joke. Nothing to hurt you, let alone kill you. Just a simple water bucket prank. But he had no idea you already were heavily injured. And just as he noticed, it was too late. He dealt the blow. He was the blackened. He killed the love of his life, the one person who consistently tolerated his pranks and teases. Xingqiu accepted his fate, with no struggle.

You are the blackened

Denial. Another one in denial. He considered this just like one his books he read lately. You would tell him that everything was a prank, you weren’t the killer. But when everyone called the vote, and it was confirmed. He yelled at you. He was upset, at...everyone, himself included. Everyone..except you. He wanted to tell you, that he was sorry. That he did forgive you. But he couldn’t, as the chain locked around your neck.

Your Execution

Chained down to a chair, and a paper was slammed down in front of you, with a pen. You were confused, but got the hint. You wrote and wrote, which had you distracted from the area slowly flooding. You slowly started to suffocate in the water, but it didn’t bother you. You felt like it wasn’t even happening. Xingqiu started yelling, begging you to try and survive. You couldn’t hear him, only the sound of your own thoughts. And eventually, your body gave out.

Scaramouche, The Ultimate Debater

Your body is found

From the beginning, you had made an agreement. You would watch out for each other in trials, backing the other up, always an alibi. You considered him a friend, and told him so. You did consider him more, but kept that under wraps. But he never reciprocated..at least you thought he didn’t. Scaramouche did feel the same, but thought he’d have time to tell you. He believed you would be there the next day, the day he would tell you. Tomorrow. He didn’t want there to be a chance you didn’t feel the same, but had considered it, because it would be better than you never knowing. He knocked on your dorm, expecting you to answer at the call of your name, but you didn’t...And he grew annoyed, assuming you were sleeping in. He sighed under his breath, before opening the door, and being met with the sight he never wanted to see. Your bloodied body, clutching a letter to your bleeding chest. You were long gone. He swiftly walked over, trying to ignore the tears rising to his eyes and grabbed the letter, hoping to find some clue as to who your killer was. But as he read through it, his eyes widened. It was a confession. To him. In your writing, that he completely recognised. And he felt regret. He hadn’t even told you that he cared about you. As far as you were aware, you were just a toy to him. Maybe at first, yes, but not as of late. During the trial, he was anything but calm, snapping if anybody dared to speak ill of you. When the blackened was found, they were screamed and swore at. Insults hurled second by second. They likely were terrified of him. And when they were executed, he laughed. If it was possible, people feared him more. And tried to avoid him at all possible costs.

You’re the blackened

Keeps defending you, even when it was a lie. When the votes were cast, and you were still found out, he started yelling. For a moment, others assumed he was an accomplice, but you and Monokuma denied that fact. He was still in denial, hardly able to accept the fate that was in front of his eyes. He asks you why? Why couldn’t you just tell him to do it? It’s rare to see him on the verge of tears, but his pride is in shambles. You gave a laugh, with a sorry before fate dragged you to your doom.

Your Execution

It was some kind of...trap. You were just stuck there. The contraption slowly brought you to your doom, or what you assumed to be. With some careful consideration, you managed to slip from it, avoiding the fate planned. Nobody knew this, and assumed you died when it was stopped. Scaramouche was not the one to find you, it was somebody else. They quickly brought you to him, and he hugged you, tightly. He was shaking, and yelling at the same time. He was just glad you were alive, that’s all that mattered to him. You both managed to escale from there, possibly with others.

Well, hope that wasn’t too OOC. Sorry for the gruesome imagines <3 Another angst fic is coming soon! Prepare :)

[willowbleedsonpaper]

The Way You Look At Me

Second part of The way you look at her 

W. C. : 4278.

A/N: Thanks to the Nonnie who requested this, I hope you do read this and tell me what you think of it! Sorry if it took me too long but hehe, I’m a writer *wink*

Warnings: I don’t think there is any, maybe mentions of killing?

Flashbacks written like this!

My Masterlist

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"Where is he?" you asked desperately, running inside the hospital wing and leaving Pansy and Theo behind. 

"Y/N!" they called after you, the desperation in their voices, almost matching yours, only making you go faster until you reached the bed. His bed. A gasp left your lips as soon as your eyes landed on him, laying on the bed with an almost dead color on his face. Slowly, you walked to his side, your eyes roaming all over his body. 

Theo and Pansy walked next to you, their presence calming beside you as you stared in shock at Draco's sleeping form. 

"What happened?" you whispered in a hoarse voice, fighting yourself to keep calm when all you wanted to do was burst into tears right there and then. You could sense their hesitation, the noises coming from their mouths as they tried to tell you something, anything really, making you realize that they didn’t have the answer you were looking for.

“Snape brought him like this.” Blaises’ voice reached your ears, making you turn your head to see him and Daphne walk beside your friends, a grimm look in all of their faces “He said nothing.”

Days were spent in a mournful state of mind. Draco had woken up several times over the course of the days, only to be put back to sleep by Madame Pomfrey due the pain he was in, his wounds slowly healing but not enough for him to be awake. 

You had been there the first time he woke up, the spark of joy that burst inside of you as he started to stir in his sleep quickly shut off when the soft mumbles of his mouth became cries of pain. 

“Make it stop, make it stop!” he cried, moving restlessly in the bed as you fought to hold him. 

You held his arms, wrapping your hands around his wrists as he clawed his chest to remove the bandages. “Draco, stop.” you said, your voice shaky “I need you to stop moving, let me get Madame Pomfrey.” you begged, the shake of his head making your eyes widen in both sorrow and terror.

He got his hands free from your hold, the shout in your throat dying down when he wrapped his hand around yours “Don’t go, please.” he whispered.

You shook your head softly, sitting on the chair strategically placed next to his bed “I won’t.” you whispered back, giving his hand a firm squeeze.

His body visibly relaxed, a sigh leaving his mouth as he momentarily felt nothing. No pain, no anger, no fear. 

Madame Pomfrey walked on you holding his hand, humming as a way to calm him down. He had stopped moving, but the agonizing look in his face told her he was holding back from lashing out. His pain numbed by your presence. 

You were given the lecture of your life for letting him be in pain for so long, for not going to get Madame Pomfrey or send someone to get her. You kept a void face throughout the whole thing, keeping to yourself the fact that it was the middle of the night and there was no one else there but you, and the fact the Draco literally begged you not to go. You were so tired, you didn’t have the energy to fight back, you just nodded and went back to his side. 

After two days straight by his side, Pansy suggested taking shifts to be with him. Of course, Pansy never just suggests things, but more like ordering Theo to carry you back to the Slytherin common room while you were asleep, taking the first shift herself. 

You growled in your sleep, shifting when the voices around you became too loud. The hospital wing was supposed to be quiet. You jumped up, your eyes opening wide as you took in your surroundings. You weren’t there when you went to sleep.

“Theo brought you here.” Your head turned at the sound of the voice, the sweet voice of Daphne making you turn to the couch across from you. She walked to you, sitting in the space next to you “You need rest, you still do.” she took a hold of your hand, rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand in soothing motions.

You were almost lured to listen to her, her presence so calming it made you want to go back to sleep. But you couldn’t.

“I need to go back.” you mumbled, moving the blanket over your legs away only to be stopped by two hands in your shoulders, softly pushing you back to the couch.

“You’re not going anywhere, darling.” you forced your head back, meeting Blaise’s face.

“Like you can stop me.” you dared, trying once again to get on your feet only to be stopped once again by the heavy look directed to you. Shivers ran down your back as you saw Pansy standing by the door, arms crossed over her chest.

“There are four of us, Y/N.” she said, walking to where the rest of you were gathered “You’re a good witch but I’m Pansy Parkinson.” she said with a smirk, but the look on your face told her the one question you had on your mind. She let out a sigh, tilting her head to get a better look at you “Theodore is with him.”

“See?” Daphne added, the hold in your hand never losing his grip “We’ll take turns.” she stated “He’s our friend too, you know?” she said, a knowing smile in all of their faces as heat rose up your cheeks. 

They all stayed in silence, the peace almost too calming to make the whole lot of you uncomfortable “Now let go of my girlfriend's hand, Y/L/N.” Pansy told you, playfully slapping your hand away as you chuckled. 

“She’s my friend too, you know?” you mocked, the soft laughs easing the heaviness in your heart, only to be lifted almost completely.

“It seems like today is your lucky day.” said Blaise, once the girls had settled back on the couch. You looked at him confused, the smug look on his face giving you nothing as to what he meant until you saw it, his arms spread open for you and you alone. “It’s not everyday that I get to hold my best friend.”

A smile made its way up to your face, crawling to the side of the couch where he sat. You made a little ball of yourself, resting your head at his side as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He rubbed your arm in reassurance, placing a soft kiss at the top of your head “He’s going to be alright.” he mumbled to your ear, the confidence in his voice lighting that spark of joy once more. You nodded softly, almost as if you were rubbing the side of your face to his chest, your arm wrapping around his middle.

“Thanks, Blaise.” you whispered, so low, you weren’t even sure he heard you. 

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You walked into the hospital wing with light steps, slowly making your way towards Draco's bed. It wasn’t really hard, he was the only one in there. Carefully, you walked behind Theo, his head hanging at the side and you realized he was asleep. You weighed your options and decided it was best to wake him up, the chair he currently sat on not really comfortable. You brought your hand up to his shoulder, softly tapping on it as you called his name in a whisper.

He started to mumble something under his breath, stirring on the chair until his eyes fluttered open. He seemed confused at first, the frown on his face banishing as soon as his eyes focused on you and the small smile on your face.

“Morning.” you said softly.

He turned outside through the window, meeting the dark night sky. A groan made its way out of his lips, turning grumpily in the chair and closing his eyes again. “Go away.” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the fabric of his sweater where he hid his head. 

You chuckled lowly, starting to put his things away in his bag. “It’s my turn.” you told him, taking his hand and pulling him up, “You’ve been here all day.” you placed the bag across his shoulder, giving him a soft pat on the arm to get him to start walking.

He was at the door, turning to you once again “I’ll come back later.” he told you, your body turning towards him with the tilt of your head in a sign of protest, but he didn’t let you get a word out “It gets lonely without him.” he said, his eyes drifting towards Draco on the bed. 

You wanted to say something, tell him to stay back at the dorms but you got what he meant. Draco wasn’t even your “roommate” and you felt that missing piece. 

With a sigh, you nodded your head at him “Bring something to eat.” you told him before he left, a smile growing on his face as he dissapeared from your sight.

A couple hours had gone by since you arrived, taking a little nap to make time go faster had  seemed like a good idea until you realized it was past midnight and you had more energy in your system that it was allowed to have at such an hour. 

You wandered the Hospital wing aimlessly, walking in circles as you recited all the information you had learned that day. Potions, herbology and transfiguration had plagued your mind all day, the homework that had piled up now tackled down to a lot of parchment and mental notes in your head. You had been going over and over again in your head, repeating each word from the books until you found yourself humming.

At some point, the information slipped away from your mind and music replaced it, the soft hum coming from your chest surprising you when you realized what song it was, Arcade, the last song you danced alongside Draco two years ago at the Yule Ball.

Draco’s mood had gotten really low when the champions walked down the beautifully decorated hall, watching Hermione walk past the two of you with the biggest smile you had ever seen on her, she looked like a princess. And you weren’t the only one who noticed. 

You had your arm linked with Draco’s, he had waited for you in the Slytherin common room, the smile on his face growing when he saw you walk down the stairs. He bowed playfully, kissing your hand before he offered you his arm, never letting go of it. Not even when she passed by right in front the two of you. 

Hermione's smile faltered when she saw him there, quickly moving her eyes to the opposite side of the crowd. Your heart broke when Draco´s grip on your hand tightened, giving a squeeze back, you nodded at him in reassurance.

But still he didn’t seem like himself after that, his smile only there for you, not because he really felt it. 

You stood on your tiptoes, leaning against his ear to whisper so only he could hear you “Do you want to go?” you asked, truthfully worried for him and his well being.

Yet, he shook his head, looking around to see his friends all ready to enjoy the ball. 

Draco had convinced Blaise to ask Pansy to the ball, the two of them wearing the most glamorous pieces of clothing, matching their confidence as they danced together keeping the talk to the minimum as they enjoyed each other’s presence. 

Daphne had felt out of place, getting a lot of invitations from the school students, but none of them enough for her to feel comfortable, so she gathered the courage to ask Theo if he would like to be her date, the both of them relieved that they had a friend to go with. Unlike Pansy and Blaise, they were having fun, dancing with dramatic yet elegant movements. They were good dancers, if anyone saw them they would probably think they were professionals, the only thing giving them away being the chuckles escaping their mouths as they tried and failed to keep a straight face. 

Draco refused to take this night away from you, he knew it was one of your biggest dreams to go to a ball like that one. Big dresses and soft music, dancing with a partner and the intimacy of it all. He was determined to enjoy the night with you. 

“May I?” he asked, offering his hand, one you gladly took as he guided you to the dance floor. 

You danced all night long, little to no words were exchanged as the only thing you needed was the closeness to one another. 

Draco found himself truthfully smiling, your head resting against his chest as you swayed to the soft notes from the song. He could feel you humming, the vibrations of your voice making him feel light, as if you were the only ones there. He saw nothing, heard nothing and felt nothing other than you. You were all that mattered to him in that moment.

The song ended too soon for his liking, your face lifting from his chest with a sleepy smile and a pleasant haze in your eyes. He didn’t want the night to end just yet. 

“Come with me.” he told you, pulling you towards the exit, going against the crowd that gathered around the scenario for the more active part of the ball. One you could miss.

“Where are we going?” you said in between chuckles, trying to keep up with him as your dress got tangled between your feet. “Draco, I can’t run with this dress.” you squeaked, tripping a few times but never actually falling, his grip on your hand strong.

Almost at the entrance of the castle he slowed down, the courtyard extending before your eyes with only the light of the moon to guide you.  

“Here.” he said, sitting you down in one of the benches “I need to tell you something.”

You looked at him hesitantly, squinting your eyes at him “Alright.” you murmured, waiting to hear what he had to say. You were nervous, even scared, of what he had to say. Not two days ago, you found out he fancy Hermione Granger and that he knew about your feelings for him. Even if it was your dream to have him reciprocate those feelings, you didn’t want it to happen this way, for you to be a tool for him to get over her. You refused to do that.

“I want to thank you.” he said after a long pause, the weight in your chest lifting a little as he continued “I had a great time tonight and it’s all because of you.”

You smiled, holding his hand in yours “You have nothing to thank me for.” you told him sincerely “We are friends after all, I’m always gonna be there for you.” you said, the glint in his eyes making you see he understood what you meant. 

The word left a bittersweet taste in your mouth, but you didn’t care. You had your dream night with Draco Malfoy, your friend. And it was one that you will treasure until the end of your days. 

The last bits of the song left your lips, your steps as you swayed in your place slowly coming to a stop as you stared at the boy in the bed. He had moved a little in his sleep, he had done that for quite a while, never actually waking up. You walked to his side, stroking his face in slow motions. 

“Draco Malfoy thanking me.” you said, humor behind your words as you remembered more of that night “The world should have ended in that moment.” you told him in the hopes he was listening to you even in the slightest. 

“I’m going to sneak into the library,” you said to him, the idea popping into your head as the smirk grew in your face “I’m reading to you, so get ready.” you said in excitement, grabbing your sweater from the chair, giving him one last look “Don’t wake up while I’m gone.” you threatened, squinting your eyes his way before you left. 

Your little trip to the library was uneventful, avoiding Mr. Filch and the prefects had become a second nature and you did it without even thinking. Not 10 minutes later you were back and entering the Hospital wing when the sound of footsteps filled your ears. 

You froze in place, seeing that it wasn’t your own walking and that there was someone else there. A thousand thoughts went through your mind. It couldn’t be Draco, the last time he woke up he could barely move let alone stand up and walk. You walked near his bed, thinking of all the possibilities when it dawned on you. 

“Theo?” you called, the footsteps stopping completely, not that you noticed, your voice covering the lack of any sound “Merlin, you scared me, I thought...Granger?”

You met wide eyes looking at you, the frown in your face deepening “What are you doing here?” you asked her, walking slowly to the opposite side of the bed.

She shuffled in her place, her hands fidgeting in front of her “I heard about Draco.” she said after a long pause “That he was injured.” she explained.

You nodded your head, something about her making the feeling of suspicion rise inside of you  “More like attacked, but yes.” you told her calmly, a polite tone to your voice like this was a day to day conversation, but getting exactly what you wanted.

Her eyes avoided yours, her face low as she pretended to process the information you just gave her “So you know what happened?” she inquired, more scared than curious.

“No,” you answered honestly, giving a side glance her way as her body visibly relaxed “I don’t care, really. I just want him to be alright.”

She lifted her eyes, her face in a deep frown “You care deeply about him.” she stated in a whisper, the silence in that part of the castle allowing you to hear her perfectly. 

You nodded your head in answer, sitting down as she stayed frozen, her shoulders tense as she watched your every move. “He’s one of my best friends, of course I care about him.” you said, tilting your head at her “Which brings me to the question of why are you here?”

She stayed quiet, keeping your eyes on hers as she opened her mouth, no words coming out of it. She moved her gaze from you, sighing lightly “I just wanted to see he was fine.”

“Why?” you asked again, her face contorting into one of terror “You’re not his friend and I’m sure you don’t care for him.”

“It’s not a crime to make sure he’s alright.” she said defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. 

You shrugged your shoulders, pointing at the chair on her side of the bed with your hand “You’re welcome to stay, although it’s past curfew.” you told her, raising an eyebrow at her. 

She was about to answer you, the words at the tip of her tongue when movement catches your eye. Draco began to mumble in his sleep, his hand doing the slightest move. You totally ignored what Hermione was about to say, your full attention on Draco once you made up the words coming out of his mouth. Jumping on your feet, you were at his side in no time, calling his name softly.

His eyes opened, his sight focusing until he could make out some of the things around him. His eyes danced around the room, the only thing moving being his chest with his breathing, but soon enough he turned his head to you, blinking slowly at you. 

“Draco?” you asked cautiously, holding your breath as you waited for something, anything. You were ready for him to start screaming again, for the tears to stain his cheeks once more, for his hands to move to his chest and the bandages there. You never expected the lazy smile that appeared on his face.

“It doesn’t hurt that much.” he whispered, his voice cracking by the lack of use over the past days. “I heard you.” he told you, his eyes confused as he turned to the other side “There was someone else here.”

You lifted your face quickly, finding the spot where Hermione stood two seconds ago empty. With your focus completely on the Draco, you didn’t even hear her leave.

“Theo is coming in a bit.” you told him, sitting in the free space on his bed. He hummed in response, staying in silence for a long time. “Do you need anything?” you asked him, bringing him back from his thoughts.

“You were singing.” he said, turning his face to you “I know the song, you sing it all the time.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, looking for any sign of him joking but there wasn’t any “Of all the things that happened, you heard that?”

He shrugged his shoulders, looking down to his lap “It’s what I remember.”

You chuckled, wandering if he heard any of the last five minutes. Your curiosity getting the best of you. “Granger was here.” you spat out, his face snapping up at you.

“What?”

“Thought you might want to know.” you said, grabbing the book you got from the library “I went to get this,” you showed him the book, placing it at his side as you continued “When I came back she was here, said she wanted to make sure you were alright.”

The look on his face took you by surprise, expecting to see some kind of happiness in his features, you could only see what looked like confusion. 

“Why?” he asked.

“That’s what I asked.” you told him, recalling the conversation you had moments before “I thought you would be happy about it.” you said, seeing him shake his face.

You had made a promise to yourself not to push him to say anything about her. Not to ask questions unless he brought it up. It was easier that way, and when he never said anything you thought maybe he went to hiding his feelings again. You didn’t agree with that, but there was nothing you could do.

“Why would I be happy about that?” he asked you “You know she hates me, she wasn’t here for me.” he stated. He must’ve seen the face you made, sighing as he brought his hand to his face, running it down until he reached his chin “She was probably here to make sure Potter didn’t kill me.”

“What?!” you yelled, standing from the bed as you stared at him expectantly, “Potter did that to you?” you said, pointing to his chest as he nodded “I’m killing him.” you said, your voice taking a dark tone as you started to walk away, only to be stopped by his grip on your wrist. “Let go of me.” you growled, his face cold and serious as he tightened his grip.

“We have more important things to do.” he said, the dark shade over his face making you stop fighting him.

“Now?” you asked in a whisper, sitting back down.

He shook his head “Soon.” he said, pulling you to his side, stroking your arm. You stayed like that for a while, his voice pulling you from the sleep that was taking over you “Arcade.” he mumbled, making you raise your head in confusion “That’s the name of the song, Arcade.” he explained, the flutter of your heart making you feel like you were dreaming “That’s one of the songs we danced to at the Yule Ball.”

“You remember.” you breathed out, leaning against his side again with a soft smile.

“It is one of the best nights of my life,” he told you “Nothing could have made it better.”

You analyzed his answer, the little spark you once held close to your heart shut down by the upcoming war and the dark times you faced, nothing matters more than surviving, not even your feelings. 

It had been a long time since you wondered about his feelings towards anyone, but right there with him holding you close, you couldn’t help but wonder what he meant.

“Nothing?” you inquired, looking down to keep the blush hidden from him.

“Nothing.” he assured you.

You didn’t know, and Draco couldn’t bring himself to tell you, but after the Yule Ball his perspective of you changed. You were no longer his best friend Y/N, but he didn’t have a name for the way he saw you. 

Slowly he started to think more about you, he noticed the little things that no one else did. Hermione started to drift away from his mind, you taking a bigger place, not only on his mind but on his heart as well. It wasn’t until you saw the dark mark on his forearm that he admitted to himself how he felt about you. He wanted to love you the way you loved him. 

Unconditionally.

“Good, that is the best night of life too.” you said, looking up at him to find his eyes already on you with a look you recognized. A look from two years ago, one that you had wished was directed to you. And now it was. He was looking at you the way he used to look at her. 

TAGS:

@fanficflaneuse @nebulablakemurphy @lupins-sweater @accio-rogers @gloriousrebelrunaway @slytherinprincess03 @not-today-anxiety @strawberriesonsummer @trinimalfoyyy @haphazardhufflepuff @deafgirltingz @liilyevanss @remmyswritings @peeves-a-legend @yourssuccubus @it-was-three-am @pamelalur15 

@gloryekaterina

[fatiguing-thoughts]

The Kinds of Love - Embry Call x Reader

Request: “Hey! Could I get an Embry x reader where she is Paul’s younger sister and also a wolf and maybe Paul is very protective and maybe she gets injured in the eclipse battle and everyone freaks and Paul realised how much embry cares for her?....a bit of angst and fluff”

A/N: just to let you know, i have probably written the eclipse fight scene about fifty times so i’ll just be recreating an entirely different fight scene for the sake of my sanity. i love you thanks for understanding

Things were finally beginning to get easier since I had finally phased. I was finally allowed to know everything going on with my brother, Paul,  and our friends. 

Though, it grew more complicated when Embry and I imprinted on one another. Paul was absolutely livid. His overprotectiveness was overbearing, I had grown tired of him being annoyed at Embry and I, especially for something out of our control. 

And let’s face the facts here, it’s not like this came out of nowhere. We both had liked each other for years, just couldn’t do anything about it in fear of Embry’s legs-- Paul would’ve kicked his ass. 

“You’re breaking bro code, you can’t date my sister!” He’d yell every single time Embry would ask if he would be able to ask me out. 

I loved Paul with all my heart, but his lack of faith in Embry and constant monitoring me was too much to bear. But then he phased, keeping me in the dark. Though, he still wouldn’t let Embry do anything. Embry didn’t come around much anymore, as he was Paul’s friend first. 

But then Embry phased, and things got a bit weird. 

It wasn’t until I phased that I understood it all-- but then it was the first time Embry and I had seen each other and-- you guessed it: boom. imprinted on one another. 

Now, Paul couldn’t say shit about anything. Though, he was always too cautious and feared that Embry still wouldn’t treat me right. The constant brooding and displeasure about the situation seeped through every one of Paul’s pores. 

I loved him with my entire heart, but it grew difficult to not fling him across the room sometimes. Growing up, it was Paul and I against the world due to our family situation. We had each other’s backs, and he trusted nobody with my safety, nor my feelings. 

But tonight, something completely unexpected happened. 

Sitting at Sam and Emily’s was going perfectly fine, until we picked up on that signature scent of death. There were vampires nearby, it couldn’t be just one-- the sickly sweet scent was far too potent. 

Paul was still getting used to me being around, far too afraid of me actually going out with them to catch a leech or two, despite the fact that I was far more than qualified to handle myself. I was perfectly able to take care of myself. 

“Stay here.” Paul orders me as we all stand up.

“No!” I argue.

“Maybe you should.” Embry looks at me with pleading eyes. 

“Sam. Please?” I ask, looking at him.

“She’s one of us, she’s coming.” Sam says authoritatively, looking between the two men. 

And with that, I sent a smirk Paul’s way as I walked out the door with the rest of the pack. 

We phase, immediately on our way to the source of the leeches. 

We soon found them, a group of at least fifteen. 

”Why are there so many?” Quil’s voice breaks through the mindlink.

“Who cares? Just get rid of them.” Paul scoffs. 

And so we did. I found myself stuck with one on my back as I was tearing another apart. 

Suddenly a second one found it’s way on my back. 

“What the hell are you guys doing? Get one of them off of me!” I yell into the mindlink. 

I begin thrashing around, waiting for someone to come over and help me. I see Embry and Paul both taking off to me first. 

But before I could fling either of the leeches off of me, I notice the Cullens arriving. I look over and see a panicked Alice and Carlisle staring at me. 

But that’s when I felt it. Something in my side had snapped. My ribs broke, I fell to the floor screeching in pain. 

Embry and Paul made it over, finishing off the leeches that were on top of me before they could do any more damage. 

Emmett and Jasper helped the rest of the pack finish off the intruders. 

I sat there, whining in agonizing pain. The rest of the pack phased back, putting their clothes on and freaking out over me. 

“She needs to phase back so I can see what’s wrong.” Carlisle instructs. 

Leah ran over to grab some clothes ditched in the woods, shooing everyone away so she could help me get decent. 

I phased back, but when she was helping me put on the minimal clothing, I couldn’t help but scream out in pain. I watched everyone flinch from the sounds leaving my throat. 

Finally, I felt myself being lifted and being carried back to Sam’s, Carlisle following closely behind. 

As Carlisle examined me and told us what the procedure to fix me would be, I was absolutely terrified. 

“You can squeeze my hand.” Alice offers. 

“Why not one of us?” Paul huffs, interrupting. 

“You won’t want to be in the room.” Carlisle informs him.

“I need to be.” Embry pleads, eyes tearing up.

“It’s really better if you wait outside.” 

“We can support her from outside, Carlisle’s orders. It’ll be too much for the both of you in there.” Sam speaks, ushering Paul and Embry out of the room. 

I begin to hear their loud footfall, them profusely pacing outside. I hear Embry’s sniffles and heart beating right out of his chest. 

“Ready?” Carlisle asks, sympathetic eyes meeting mine.

“Yeah, do your worst.” I smirk, preparing myself for my entire right side to have my bones rebroken. 

Alice’s ice cold hand grabs onto mine, a soft smile on her face. 

I was not prepared for the pain that was coming my way. I screamed louder than I ever had, squeezing Alice’s hand tight enough to crack her marble skin.

“Sorry.” I whispered, writhing in pain.

“Don’t be.” She reassured me.

Another blood-curdling scream left my lips, this was unbearable. 

I knew my brother and boyfriend were outside losing their shit, so I originally intended to try to keep my reactions at a minimum, but it was not feasible.

When Carlisle finished, he set me up with a morphine drip.

Paul and Embry came in, watching me in my dazed state. 

Paul simply looked at me, fear raging in his eyes, a blank expression on his face. 

Embry was at my side, holding my hand in his. Whispering sweet nothings in my ear, wiping the sweat off my forehead. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you, baby.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, warm tears falling onto my face. 

The next few days were a bit of a blur, everyone coming in and out of the room to see if I needed anything. 

“Hey kid.” Paul says softly walking in.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask, voice groggy.

“Listen, I’m really sorry. For giving you guys such a hard time. I see it now.” 

“Did you hit your head or something?” I giggle.

“No, listen. I’ll only apologize this one time.” He chuckles, sitting next to me on the bed. “I never realized how much he cared. Maybe he does care enough to be with you. Maybe I was wrong.” Paul sighs. 

“I know you were wrong.” I giggle, lightly shoving his shoulder with my good arm, though still slightly wincing in pain.

“Stay still, you’re still not healed according to Dr. Leech.” Paul smirks. 

“Paul, he helped me. Knock it off.” I scold.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess I owe him that after he helped my baby sister out.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, you do.”  _______________________________ Word Count: 1258

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Andy Dufresne falling in love with you would include~

(Not my gif)(Requested by @awkwardnerdy-teen​)

( I had a lot of different ideas racing through my head and this big boy post is the result of that. You can absolutely ask for more hcs on one of these scenarios if you’d like, I just wrote a little bit for each)

- Since Andy goes to Shawshank in 1947; a time when women really weren’t allowed to work in prisons, there’s only so many ways the two of you could have met. I’ll list a few different scenarios before going into the specifics of each one.

- The scenarios~ A) You and Andy meet in place of him and his wife meeting, and he never goes to Shawshank. B) The two of you meet through mail as he serves out his sentence. Or C) you meet after he escapes and get to feel the brunt of his pent up, touch starved yearning.

- If you meet Andy before the events of the film then you’re able to prevent them from happening sheerly through existing.

- The two of you wind up meeting when you go to the bank he works at for some financial counseling. Let’s just say the predicament that you’re in requires a little more care than a one time visit and the signing of some papers so the two of you have a little more time to get to know each other, something that’s crucial in winning over Andy’s heart. 

- Andy is a hard man to know; a closed book through and through, so if he’s letting you in then there’s something special about you that he just can’t ignore. …And boy are you special to him. 

- Your warm voice, your smile, your perfect temperament. He’d never had such a pleasant client in his life. 

- Now, Andy always took pride in his work but when he was with you, he was actually eager to do it. To explain everything, make conversation, go over things a hundred times to make sure they were perfect, etc. You breathed new life into his day, even when others did everything they could to drain him of it. 

- And that was what he fell in love with first. Your ability to whisk away everything else that had happened to him during the day with a simple smile and kind gesture. 

- That being said, your relationship moves quite slowly. Andy acknowledges that he likes you a lot but he doesn’t fall head over heels in one day. It takes time and it’s an entire process in of itself.

- In the beginning, he just thinks that he likes you as a person. That the two of you have a special sort of connection that people discover only once in their lifetime, a connection that's shared between two friends. 

- But then, one day, the two of you are hunched over a sheet of paper, going over this and that and trying to figure out what works best for your situation. He looks over at you as you’re distracted with reading and for a long moment, he just stares at your face.

- He takes in every detail one by one until the full picture is there in all it’s glory, as though you’re some sort of Monet painting that’s made up of little perfect fragments. It’s then that he acknowledges just how pretty you are and just how attracted to you he really is. And thus begins the process.

- Andy; self admittedly, doesn't really know how to show how much he cares. Even though he’s beginning to understand that he loves you and that you own his heart, he’s at a loss for what to do about it. 

- So he does the only thing he can think of. He tries to make friends. 

- He begins to try to get closer to you; asking you about yourself, answering your questions about him, and starting conversations about things other than your financial stability. Soon enough, it works and the two of you can consider yourselves friends. 

- But it becomes increasingly obvious that the two of you are not just friends. You can see it in the way he acts around you and you know enough about yourself to understand that you like him far more than that. 

- Feeling your touch throws him for a loop. The accidental brush of your fingers against his own as you pass papers or the hand you lay on his shoulder when he’s engrossed in something; whether it be a document or his own thoughts, is enough to fluster him. He tries to play it off but you take notice of the time it takes him to plaster on a polite smile. 

- Andy is already a fairly quiet person but whenever you touch him or smile warmly at him, you’ll notice that he gets even quieter, his words trailing off until you can hardly hear them at all. 

- Occasionally, he’ll offer you a somewhat shy compliment. It’s worth that little twinge of nervousness to see the smile that you give him whenever he praises you. 

- Speaking of praise: he nearly turns red in the face whenever you tell him how great of a banker he is or any other compliment you can think of. Rest assured, he’s thinking about your words for the rest of the day. 

- He’ll absolutely go out of his way to see and make a good impression on you. Like there will be a day where you cant make it to one of your meetings and he’ll offer to meet you somewhere/at your house. He’ll literally meet you on his day off, even if you’ll just be going over documents, because to him, it’s worth the trouble just to see you. 

- It’s the 1940s so it’s sort of in character for you to bring him coffee or lunch/invite him over for supper as a thank you for all his help. Let me just say he damn near kisses you every time you do. He gets all tongue tied and shy, telling you that “you really didn’t have to” while he internally thanks god that you did. 

- Whenever you invite him to dinner, rest assured he’s bringing you the most expensive flowers he could find and agonizing over what to wear as though it’s a real date. He just tells you that the flowers; or wine, is “the least that he can do” after all the effort you’ve gone through to cook him a meal. 

- Every now and again you’ll catch him staring at you with this fond look on his face. He’ll immediately look away with a nervous chuckle when you catch him, apologizing and saying “nothing” when you ask him “what?”. 

- He makes his move on the last day you have to see him. A part of him pondered whether or not he should but at the last possible moment, he came to the conclusion that he couldn’t just let you walk out of his life. Even if you’d become good friends, he couldn’t allow the possibility of you just up and forgetting about him before he could confess his feelings to you. 

- So as you’re smiling and shaking his hand in gratitude, he moves to encase your hand with both of his own and asks if you’d join him for dinner. And though you’d had dinner together before, both of you know that it’s different this time and it’s different in the best way possible. 

Meeting through letter~

- Bored. Your life had become monotonous and you were bored. Bored of the tiring job and the same old city and the same old everything that happened every day. You needed something new to occupy yourself with, something exciting that would transport you into a life that was far more interesting than your own.

- Some women would take up reading, other would knit, but out of sheer coincidence, you’d stumbled across an ad for a prison penpal program in the paper and decided to give it a try. 

- So you mailed in a form and received a list of inmates that you could write to, one of which obviously being Andy Dufresne. You circled out a few names and wrote a few near identical letter and once again mailed them into Shawshank. 

- In the following week, you received a handful of letters, many of which you put aside or threw away due to their illegibility or their flat out raunchy contents. 

- At the end of the week, you had only a few letters that you could choose to respond to and, of course, you chose Andy’s. To be fair, he was the best choice. He was the most well-spoken, well-mannered, and educated one out of all the letters you’d received. Why wouldn’t you choose him?

- Andy had been itching for something to occupy him. His mind was going too fast for the nothingness that happened in prison so when he finally received a letter in the mail, it was like a blessing sent from above.

- It’s no secret that prison changes people ad oftentimes it does so by depriving them of real human interaction, or rather, female interaction. So when a letter obviously written by a woman lands in Andy's hands after god knows how many years in Shawshank; it makes him feel a certain way. 

- He eagerly awaits every response he receives and while no one would think that out of the ordinary for someone who has nothing else to do all day, he understands that his heart is far more invested in it then he would care to admit. 

- You’re a sort of fantasy for him. Sure, he has your kind words, your scrawling script, the riveting conversation that shows him your personality and the faint smell of your perfume. But he doesn’t truly know you, does he? 

- Its why it all seems so silly to him. To fall in love with words on a page seems like such a juvenile, outlandish thing to happen. He’s never even met you and yet he feels like he has; he imagines that he has and that’s part of what keeps him sane. The idea of you.

- But one can only imagine a person for so long. And so, he thinks it over and in the final few sentences of his latest letter, he asks if you can send a photo of yourself along with your response “so that he can put a face to his dear friend”.

- It’s a little while before he receives a response and a part of him dreads that he’s overstepped his boundaries. He fears that he’s lost this important part of his life, that he’s lost you, but just as he’s losing hope, a letter arrives for him; a neatly stuffed envelope that he can immediately recognize as being from you. 

- He knows that your photo is inside the envelope and a part of him contemplates not looking at it, wondering if its worth it to destroy the image he’s created for you. So he reads your letter first, relishing in the new set of words that you’ve sent for as long as he can until he can’t anymore. 

- Finally, after putting it off for as long as he can, he picks up your photo and flips it over, agonizing over every detail of your face. …You’re perfect. Absolutely breathtaking, enough to make his heart skip a beat just by looking at you. 

- He calls you beautiful in his next letter and it’s such a relief that you feel the need to celebrate. You feared that you’d receive no response or that the one you did receive would reveal him to be the complete opposite of what you’d thought him to be; revealing him to be some sort of gross pervert.

- But he was perfectly polite and kind so you wrote back with glee, asking for a photo of him; if it was possible. 

- He manages to get one taken of him and he sends it to you, and you’re surprised to find that you’ve been taking to a relatively handsome man. He gets almost bashful when you tell him such, fondly replying that you’re a liar in his next letter. 

- The only problem with him now having a photo of you is that there’s so much more intimacy to your correspondence. He now knows your face, your body, your hair. He can almost imagine how your skin would feel against his own and the way you smile upon seeing him. 

- And it’s agony. You’re so close and yet so far. He wonders if you feel the same and in some regard, he knows that you do. 

- So he confesses, telling you that he’s had a lot of time to think about it and that, though it may sound silly, he’s come to love you over the years. And in your next letter you return the sentiment.

- Rest assured, you’re one of the things in this world that really give him hope. 

Meeting after Shawshank~

- Andy crawled through hundreds of yards of shit and escaped to Mexico with a new identity and retrospective on life. He’s different than he once was, as different as can be, but perhaps it’s for the better. 

- He did end up opening that hotel on the beach which is where the two of you met. You’d gone to stay there as you looked for a new place to live. 

- Andy, while reserved, is a sweet and gentle man that radiates a certain wisdom and free spirited, joyful nature. He’s been born anew and it seems to show on his face. You like him straight away. 

- And he likes you, always making conversation and offering to help you with whatever you need. 

- The two of you begin a sort of routine. He takes you out on his boat everyday, mainly so that he has the chance to see your face in the sun, the water glinting in your eyes and your hair being blown by the subtle breeze. 

- Sitting on the beach with you is quite possibly the closest thing he’s ever felt to being in heaven. 

- Andy after his escape is more inclined towards opening up to people and showing his love. He’s realized a lot about himself and after years of solitude, he’s eager to have companionship, someone by his side, the touch of another person.

- He wants to have, hold, love another person. He’s realized that life is worth the heartbreak and vulnerability that loving someone brings. So he tells you about his feelings after a week or so of knowing you, admitting that he’s fallen for you and telling you that he’d really like to kiss you, “if that’s alright with you.”. 

[lebrookestore]

what is love? an excerpt from Favorite Crime

note: this is a scene directly out of the fic itself, so some lines are written with context to that, but otherwise this is exactly my perception of love. fun fact, in the story, ‘y/n’ doesn’t know where to start or what she’s exactly writing or what love means exactly, which was and is how i feel towards the subject! and thus i was literally in y/ns shoes while writing this. also!! in response to my love anon<3

Love is confusing.

And even now as I write this piece, I’m not quite sure what it is. In fact, when I started writing it, I was met with a blank document and no idea of what I should put down. Google said love was a feeling of intense affection or admiration.  Urban dictionary said it was the most powerful emotion.

And no matter how much research I tried to do, no matter what I read, I was always left where I started, with that blank document and still at square one.

So I asked one of my closest friends, someone who was like a sister to me. She told me that it was amazing, that it’s comforting. And when I decided to pen that down, she stopped me, telling me that it was just her view.

So then I asked a lot of people. I got varied answers, some said it was the most wonderful thing in the world, that it was comforting knowing it existed. Some hated it with a burning passion because they had been hurt before. They said love is always meant to end and that’s why it was painful, and yet, even with all these different opinions, I was still lost.

It wasn’t my perception.

But I think google is wrong, see there is a difference between love and admiration. Love and Infatuation are two very different things, and I’ve seen and felt both.

Falling in love is scary for most, but for me, it was easy. I think everyone could see it, simply because the person I fell in love with was so lovable. They were perfect in my eyes and I think that’s where I’ll start.

Love is a strong feeling in your chest, it makes your thoughts go haphazard until all you can think of is that one person. No matter what they do, it’s like they’re always glowing, they’re always perfect and beautiful and you’d do anything for them.

But then there is infatuation, the thought of loving someone. What would it be like? In that case you can also see a person as perfect, but it only lasts until that idea is gone. Until it fades away and you realize you weren’t in love with them, but rather the idea of them.

Maybe Infatuation is a type of love, but it’s much more explosive. It’s short lived and in the end it hurts because you realize they don’t love you for real.

When I fell in love, it started out as a crush and then it only grew. And even if it’s all over, I know I’d go running back to him. I’d give up everything to call him mine if I could. That’s the thing about love, isn’t it? It is indeed a powerful emotion and it could ruin you if you let it.

Google defined infatuation as an intense but short lived passion or admiration for someone or something. I agree with this one, because when I fell in love it was short, because the person who loved me back was just infatuated.

And that hurt when I put the pieces together and found out. It hurts because you could love someone with all your heart and in the end it’s all fruitless. In the end love ended up breaking my heart.

Love is terrifying, but I think that’s the point. Sometimes you can mistake infatuation for love and I think that’s why they say love is blind. You never know what it is until it’s too late. You can’t love without hurting.

Love is painful, it’s agonizing and sometimes it feels like someone has ripped your heart out of your chest and trampled all over it. It gives you that high that people chase after and it probably isn’t worth the pain you feel after you come crashing back down, but we chase after it anyways.

I know I did.

Trusting someone with your heart is a scary prospect. They can break it, and you can be left with trying to pick up the pieces.

But that’s heartbreak, and while I know exactly how that feels, I’m talking about love. That’s what my article is supposed to be about. Love, to me, is stored in moments. Little things you do with that special person.

Little things like grocery shopping, and spending time together.  Taking care of each other, always being there for the other person. When you choose them above everyone else. I think that’s love, it’s not as grand, and hell if it’s true, but it’s there.

It’s being able to tell the other person anything in the world, being able to be completely honest without any fears because you know they’ll accept you. When you don’t have to act like someone else, you can just be yourself, imperfections and all.

When you can understand each other without having to say anything, it’s just the silence that carries the conversation. When you don’t know how to put your feelings into words and so they construct your sentences for you.

It isn’t telling the person you love them everyday, but rather the little things you do for them, and those they do for you.

It’s being selfish in a way, you’d do anything to keep them, I know I would. It’s beautiful but painful at the same time, and that begs the question: how can something so beautiful be so tragic at the same time? It doesn’t make sense, and frankly, I’m figuring that one out for myself.

Some say it’s an illusion, some think of it as this final destination, but I don’t think that’s true. I think we find love everyday, I think it can be a burst of affection, it’s a mixture of lust, attraction, commitment and dare I say, ironically so, infatuation. It comes about when you least expect it, creeping up onto your heart and you don’t know you’ve fallen until you can’t get up.

It’s rarely something you find at the end, it’s never a reward for everything you’ve been through. You can lose it before you have it. It can be short lived, believe me, I know. We barely lasted a year but god.

Those few months, those taught me what love truly felt like. And hey, maybe it’s a warped version of it, maybe I’m completely wrong, but this is my perception of love.

Then again, I’ve only ever been in love with one person.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Tokyo Love Story (Part 6) The Fight

This scene does not appear in the books or the game. This is a scene that relates to the MC and her journey in my “Main Story Quests Rewritten” series but takes themes and information from what happened to Kogure and Akira Sakurai. One thing that is not communicated well in the game, is that Kogure and Akira were put in positions to die. The things that happened to them didn’t “Just Happen”. It was arranged.

I can’t ask you to enjoy what I’ve written, but I hope you read it and feel emotions.

In the park where you had taken shelter from Hydra, you were now trapped by them. You and Chance were unable to escape and Chisei Gen now stood over Chance while you hid behind a Buddha statue, still out of sight. You’re not sure what to do. While you were strong and fast and clever. Chisei Gen was stronger and faster than you. There wasn’t much cover, it wouldn’t be a lot of time before he found you. All you had was your deadpool claw dagger, but the sword Onimaru could even cut through that.

Chisei Gen loomed over the trembling whimpering Chance. “I’m only going to ask you once. Where is Ruri Kazama?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” He held out his hands, pleading and in a flash of light, one of his fingers disappeared. 

Chance’s agonized screams drove you to press your fingers into the ground. You didn’t care if you toppled a few buildings. You would use your Soul Skill if you had to make this stop! You just needed Chance to hang on for a few seconds. Just a few seconds!

“I’m telling the truth!” Chance clutched his wrist and fell to his side. Wide-eyed with terror, sweating with pain, he gasped. “After Ryoma Sakurai died, information stopped coming from up top. I didn’t even know Kazama was going to show up in town until he was there! I swear!”

You close your eyes tighter, the tendrils of spiritual energy pierce the ground, racing to gather and spread. Then your head is pulled up on your neck!  You're pulled up by your hair. You have to stand on tip toe to relieve the pressure on your scalp. A smooth slimy voice chuckles. “Oh ho ho… Hey boss! I found a little rabbit!”

Your eyes go wide. If he saw your face… Thinking quickly, you pull the golden comb out of your hair to release your bangs. They descend like a waterfall over your eyes.

“No! Let her go! Please!” Through your dark locks, Chance furiously tries to reach for the dagger in his leg.

“If you pull that out, you’ll bleed to death.” The mocking voice from behind you reminded you so much of the pantysniffer. “Oo… she’s young too… Boss, when you’re done with this guy can I have her?”

Chance’s face twists with anger but you meet his eyes and give a little shake of your head.

“I don’t care, Yasha.” Chisei turned back to Chance. “You’re Inuyama Ichirou, a Rank A hybrid, Code: Orange. You’ll lose control at any time, but you’ve evaded our tracking and have gone unmonitored…”

“I haven’t killed anyone!” Chance gasps from the ground. “I just worked as a prostitute and cater to clientele who like it rough. It’s what I do. It’s how I satisfy it. It’s all consensual.” True to his nature, Chance let out a laugh even though he could see his reflection in that blade that had killed so many of his fellow hybrids.

Yasha turns to you and you stay still to try maintain your focus on your soul skill, but your temper and fury rises. Your eyes glittered like hard black stones behind your hair. Yasha whispers in your ear. “You like it rough too huh?”

You didn’t just need to stay still for your sake, you needed to stay still for Chance’s. If Chance tried to fight Chisei, it would be over before you could do anything. You look at Chance again and shake your head.

“Huh!” Yasha’s eyes widened slightly. “A brave one.”

“Despite that…” Chisei continues slowly, sending an annoyed glance at Yasha. “I can’t just let you go. You need to be monitored.”

“Please… don’t kill me. Don’t send me to prison. I’ll live quietly, like I always have. I’ve always lived quietly. And… “ A tear slipped down his cheek. “I love her. I love her. Please.” He fell at Chisei’s feet, bowing until his forehead touched the ground. “Let us go to Hokkaido.” He turned to you. “Let’s go to Hokkaido. There’s a lot of snow there. We’ll go and we’ll get married in the snow.”

“Okay.” You say, softly, staying still. Your voice is gentle and sweet, in contrast to the brutal scene. “I’ll marry you in Hokkaido.”

Despite his fear and the pain crashing through him, Chance smiled through his tears. “Good. That’s good. Then in that case, I will renounce all ties to the Devil Clan!”

Chisei doesn’t say anything but the tip of his sword lowers. “Sakura. Go tell the others to finish searching the car. Yasha, let the girl go and go with her.”

Yasha let out a sad little whimper and released your hair. You sink down to the ground and the rest of your hair forms a curtain around your face. The flowers tilt askew, still hanging on by just their pins. Yasha stuffs his hands in his pockets and slouches sullenly as he ambles down the path out of sight.

“I will need your information so I can track you.” Chisei kneels next to Chance and Chance stares in wonder as Chisei pulls a handkerchief from his trenchcoat to wrap his hand where he’s now missing a finger.

Tears were already flowing down Chance’s face and now they became a torrent. “I want my nieces and nephews back! They took the children! I can’t go without them too!”

Chisei calmly ties the wound with a stiff knot.. “From where?”

“From the Residential District in Tokyo. The one that burned. My brothers fought so the kids wouldn’t be taken. They’re all orphans now… so they were taken to the prisons.”

Chisei let out a breath and then he nodded. “Alright. Give me a list of their names. Once you get to Hokkaido, I’ll have them released to you. But you have to stay monitored. That’s all I ask.” Chisei stands up and starts wiping his sword with a cloth.

Chance is shaking but he’s slowly returning to his confidence. He turned to you and smiled. Your chest swells with pride. Not only could Chance save you, but also what remained of his family.

Chance reached into his jacket and pulled out a vial of purple liquid. When you see it and when Chisei sees it, you both gasp. You remembered this vial from the man with the stripe suit who had used it to turn into a monster to fight Caesar. You never thought that Chance would be holding a vial of such deadly poison. No wonder he cried so much in your arms when you told him to live! He was holding a suicide pill right in his hand!

“I was planning on using this if we got in a pinch… but not any more.” Chance said gently.

“Who gave you that!” Chisei hissed. He had gone pale faced, his expression taut. His hand tightens on his blade.

“I don’t know. It was next to my head when I woke up one morning. Whoever left it, left a note saying I was at the end of my life and I should use my time to dance brightly.” His eyes narrowed in hatred as he held it up. “...like a moth in the flames…” He threw it hard into the pea gravel. The vial shattered and the purple liquid seeped into the ground.

Chisei lunged forward, brandishing his sword. You leap to your feet and rush to meet him.

From the shadow of the trees in the park, a muzzle of a gun flashes and the bullet that should have struck Chance in the heart, shatters across the sword Onimaru! The shrapnel sparkled in the air like gold dust and scattered onto the ground.

You skid to a halt and a bullet whizzes just by your head! 

Chisei snarled, crouching over a stunned Chance, his body blocking him from the hidden shooter. His eyes are dark with rage. “I knew it!”

You thought Chisei was attacking Chance, but Chisei was protecting him!

You both spot the hidden assassin at the same time. He’s lying low in the bushes in dark camouflage and had to have been watching the entire scene.

The assassin pops the cork off his own vial of the elixir and upends it into his mouth. Immediately, black vines crawl up his arms and neck, followed by shining white scales. His fingers extended beyond the limits of known life and his face shrunk into something monstrous!  He leaps directly at Chisei, clearing the distance in a single bound, screaming like a wild thing. Chisei moves aside just enough to allow the claw to scratch his cheek. He only lifts the tip of the sword slightly. The momentum of the newborn dead pool carries it into the tip, slides him all the way down the blade, to the hilt. Chisei doesn’t waste time or words. He raises his foot and kicks the would-be assassin to the ground, stands over him and stabs him once through the neck. With a single twist, you hear the vertebrae snap.

Chisei looks at Chance coldly, waving his sword once and splashing the black blood into the grass. “The Devil Clan is exploiting the desperation of its members when it's giving them that poison. This is the third time this has happened. First was with Akira Sakurai, the lab experiment who helped create this vile liquid. Second was Ryoma Sakurai who drank it to end her life at the Paradisio. The person giving it to them intends for them to die. Each time, they talk about moths… and flames… when I find out who is behind that toxin, I will kill him myself.”

Chance’s hands balled into fists. “But it’s you Hydra who are driving us to desperation. You’re not excused!”

“Chance… let’s go…” You move next to him to try to help him up. You want Chisei to let you go while you have the chance and while he still doesn’t recognize you.

“You should go quickly. That assassin was a Devil Clan member hidden among our ranks. Get tickets to Hokkaido. I’ll provide a safe place for you until this is all over. I’m afraid you won’t be able to trust anyone else.”

“MC…” Chance looks at you, whispering earnestly. “Do I get a star-heart?” He chuckles low in his throat.

You laugh that he’s still thinking of that silly game. “Of course you get a star heart. You can have all the star-hearts.”

He stands up and then suddenly pulls you to him. He holds you close, pressing his body against yours. His breathing accelerates like he’s just run a marathon. He kisses you but it’s not like the kiss from before. This is more like Z’s forceful, penetrating kiss but ten times more aggressive. His fingertips press into your back hard, so hard they might leave bruises. And then his fingers send sharp pangs into your back, like the nails have turned to needles. You want to scream. Your eyes widen and you try to pull away but his grip is so tight now, you feel as though your bones might break. When you look into his eyes, they’re blood shot and then they blaze golden!

Even though Chance didn’t take the molotov cocktail, the dragon blood in his body has been raging all his life, like the fuse on a bomb. He knew the eventuality and had maintained his human nature for a long time. But now, the excitement of freedom, of love, the smell of blood and the adrenaline of violence had pushed him over the edge. He wasn't losing control because of poison, he was losing control by his own nature!

Chisei’s attack was swift, and Chance turned to defend himself. Bone claws had started to grow from his hands just like they did with the assassin, but it was your bronze dagger that flashed up in an arc and sent Chisei staggering back. He stared at you, wide eyed, finally getting a good look at your face through your hair and makeup. “MC?!”

A look of horror passes over his face. He had wanted to get to know you over sake, but instead, you’d seen him torture and nearly kill the man you loved.

You don’t care about Chisei, you rush to Chance who’s clutching his head and staggering, moaning loudly in pain.

“Chance!” You grab his shoulders and look into his face, pleading. “Chance, you have to live, do you hear me? You have to fight it! Fight!”

His eyes flicker from green to gold and he stares at you in fear. “I’m trying…” 

He falls to one knee and you follow him down, your hands sliding down his arms. You try to keep eye contact as he swayed like someone drunk..

“Chance, you have to live. You have to live. Please… please remember.” You glance back at Chisei. His sword is low and his eyes are dull and empty as he looks at you. 

He doesn’t look like he’s going to attack. You turn back to Chance. “You can’t lose it now. You can’t!”

“I don’t want to…” He sobs. “I’m...so… close.” The dark veins on his hands slowly start to retract and the scales stop their progression. His will to live and to love you is so strong that the dragonization process has halted. He meets your gaze with sparkling green eyes. “I love you.”

You cradle his face in your hands and smile at him, lovingly. “You’re doing it!” You turn back to Chisei, face radiant. “He’s doing it!”

Chisei doesn’t share your enthusiasm. A heavy sadness has fallen over the man and he doesn’t move.

You look at Chance again, willing the scales to fall, willing the veins to retract. You shake his shoulders to rouse him. “I told you. You can live.”

“We’ll get married in Hokkaido.” He says, his eyes lidding half closed. He sounds sleepy, overcome with incredible weariness. “In the snow.”

“Yes.” You nod.

“We’ll raise my nephews and nieces.”

“Yes!” You laughed, tears of joy ran from your eyes.

“I’m… so happy…” He rests his head against your chest and you lightly stroke his hair. You press your lips against his head and close your eyes. For a moment, you hug him like a mother would soothe a child after a terrible nightmare. “Just focus… focus on getting better.”

“...Bye…” His voice is scarcely above a whisper.

Your eyes snap open. He pushes you to the ground and the claws rip across your dress. The delicate lace floats into the steady breeze. You’re on your back, looking up as the darkness of the sky surrounds the bright golden eyes of the person who was once Chance - Inuyama Ichirou. There was no human there, only a vicious animal. His hand closed on your throat.

You should have fought, but your training didn’t kick in. Your mind is completely blank. His face is withering away inches from yours. His skin is turning a sickly grey-green. But you don’t want to use your dagger. Or your soul skill. You want him to stop. To fight it.

In that moment, a strong arm wraps around Chance’s throat like a python and pulls him back. In the next instant, the bright blue sword pierces from his back through his chest, sending blood raining down on your hair, your face, your dress.

Chance flails wildly, gasping. “Wait… wait!” 

“Wait!” You cry. His eyes are green again. Chance was still fighting!

Chisei lets him fall however. He turns him over on his back with his foot. Chance can no longer speak, gurgling blood rising up out of his mouth.

“Stop!” You leap and take hold of Chisei’s sword arm in an attempt to disarm him but his elbow slams into your chest so hard your feet come out of your slippers, you sail through the air and land so hard on the ground you’re stunned breathless.

When you sit up, Chance is struggling, gagging against the sword in his neck. Chisei retracts it and he lays still.

You can’t even scream. You run even though it's too late. Your spirit feels out of your body and the ringing in your ears makes the world go completely silent. You don’t remember falling next to Chance, but in the next instant you’re cradling his head, rocking back and forth like the abandoned Izanami. You can feel the warmth of the blood soaking into your fine hanfu.

The scales leave Chance’s pale face and the skin left there is perfect, like a child’s skin. He looks beautiful. But he’s dead. He would never open his eyes again, speak to you again, or kiss you. You’re not getting married in Hokkaido and his relatives would languish in prison. You thought you had it. You thought you could defy the world. But the world is too cold and cruel to you to grant you such happiness.

You remove your tattered silk shawl from your shoulders and press it into the wounds. There’s so much blood that the thin fabric seems to dissolve into it. You turned to Chisei who was still pale, his jaw was clenched as he looked at you with a dull, heavy depression. 

The sky above you had grown darker and darker and now it finally opened up, releasing a flooding torrent from above that soaks you in cold rain. You gather yourself up to your feet.

“You murderer…” You point at him with one pale hand, your dark hair plastered on your face. “Killer!”

Lightning flashes and thunder snaps through the air as though the judgement was sustained by God.

Chisei shook his head slowly. “He was gone…” His voice is soft, but despite his attempt to be firm with you, the words were trembling.

“No!”

Chisei freezes. You’ve flung the shawl at him. The blood flies in an arc and you paint Chisei with it, like Jackson Pollock flinging paint on a canvas. It splashes up and down his white shirt and dark pants. “His blood…” You breathe the words in and out in fury. “His blood is red!”

Chisei looks down and palms the stain on his shirt. It was crimson without a trace of black.

“Chance was still fighting! He didn't give up! He didn’t die because it was hopeless. He died because you gave up on him!” You fling the shawl at him again.

Chisei flinches away from the rain of blood. His expression relaxes and the cold emotionless look returns to his eyes. He turns his back to you. “MC. You’re still wanted by the Executive Board. But… if you run… I’ll give you a head start.”

You gasp in disbelief at such bold insensitivity. The remorselessness struck you colder than the rain. However, the shock reminds you that there’s no point in fighting once the person you love is gone. Instead, you remove the gold chains from Chance's neck and give him one last lingering look. He looks like he’s sleeping peacefully there in the rain. You hold the chains tight to yourself and dash away towards the gate. You clear it in a single bound and disappear into the night.

[breath-of-the-hobbies]

BOTW2 - A Return to Darkness

(I’ve never written fan-fic before in my life, but all of these new BOTW theories and art inspired me to write this idea out. Special shout-out to @autumn-sweet-fae for the idea about Link’s ability reset! [x])

The series of caverns beneath Hyrule Castle seemed to be a source of boundless interest and excitement for Zelda, who stopped to document every carving and luminescent gem with the Sheikah slate no matter how small or difficult to reach. Link felt the absence of Revali’s Gale acutely whenever Zelda lamented being unable see the carvings far above their heads, but Revali and all of the other Champions had long since moved on, taking their gifts with them.

The two Hylians, displaced in time, had initially begun exploring the newly uncovered cave system as a way to escape the realities involved in rebuilding a kingdom. Soon enough, though, it became obvious that there were important secrets tucked away beneath the ground, perhaps even older than the Sheikah. Zelda hoped that uncovering these secrets could help in the rebuilding process, and so their short, escapist trips had turned into full-fledged expeditions.

They had recently discovered a steeply descending path near an entrance by the Great Plateau. Although Zelda continued to record her findings as diligently as always, they both felt a strange sense of disquiet as they descended into the darkness. Though they had been seeking answers to their questions for months, this was the first time they were afraid of the response.

When they discovered Ganon’s mummified corpse, things began happening very quickly.

Perhaps it was the presence of all three people of legend in one space that activated the chain of events. Within moments of the Hylians stepping into the final cavern, the earth began to shake and malice oozed from the floor. A glowing turquoise light leapt like lightning from Ganon’s form to Link’s arm, which he had instinctively extended to shield Zelda as stalactites and whole chunks of the ceiling rained down around them.

The shock of the light touching his skin—no, entering his skin—was nothing compared to the acidic burning of malice as the slime piled up on itself and swarmed the glowing arm, as though with a single-minded purpose.

Zelda screamed his name over the thundering of stone, knuckles white on her sword grip. Neither of them had seen anything like this, and neither knew how to combat it. Link stepped backwards, tearing at the ooze and trying to keep it away from his princess, noticing how it seemed to be exclusively targeting him. Afterwards, he would remember that small step with piercing regret. If he had only been closer, if he could have moved a little faster…. The ground collapsed beneath Zelda’s feet. Link lunged forward, desperate, reaching—their fingers brushed, and then she was gone.

Link could barely process anything. The earthquake had stopped. Ganon’s corpse had disappeared into the yawning black mouth that now filled the cavern, the same mouth that had eaten the only person who mattered to him in this world. The malice had somehow shriveled and sunk into his arm along with the strange light, and now a black rot was crawling up towards his shoulder, rendering the whole limb dead. He was unable to handle a glider or climb down into the hungry darkness, and the gnawing, unnatural pain in his arm was enough to drive him to his knees.

Slowly, painfully, and with an involuntary cry of agonized frustration, he tightened a belt around his upper bicep in an attempt to stem the creep of malice and stumbled up the debris-filled path to the surface.

When he finally emerged into the calm summer evening, his horse startled and shied at his approach, registering the scent of his arm as a corrupted enemy. Nearly delirious with pain, fatigue, and fever, Link still managed to soothe it, leaning his face against its neck and pretending that it was sweat running into its fur. He could barely stand to look at Zelda’s beautiful horse, but forced himself to clumsily fasten its lead to his own horse’s saddle.

But where to go? His champion allies were gone. The castle was still largely abandoned, the guardians erratically active and monsters as yet un-eradicated. The closest source of help was days away, and the slate had been with Zelda, so there would be no teleporting.

Purah’s not going to be happy about this. He thought nonsensically, and set his horse’s nose towards Hateno Village.

***

He did his best to cling to the horse’s mane, but as the familiar village appeared in the distance, his sense of relief overpowered the adrenaline that had kept him going for the past several days. Slowly, gently, darkness clouded his vision and he slipped from his mount’s back, falling into the ditch on the far outskirts of Hateno Village. The horses, exhausted themselves, barely registered the change in weight and continued on to the place where they knew that apples and good hay could always be found.

The children of the village, who had frequently begged rides from Link and clung to him on past visits, immediately recognized that something was wrong when they spotted the tired creatures trudging up the cobbled street. They ran to the eccentric scientist up in her tower, and joined Symin, her chief researcher, in a frantic search of the area. The sun was beginning to set when they finally found the unconscious Link. Symin scooped the small hero up in his arms, a knot of fear in his stomach, and carried him to his lady.

***

Link opened his eyes to sunshine streaming through a window, birdsong, the warm scent of hay and machine oil. The agonizing, corrupted, wrong pain in his arm had faded, but in its place was a weak and draining numbness. Remembering Zelda’s fall, he sat up with a gasp, and immediately crumpled, spots swimming in his eyes, heartbeat rushing in his ears. As he panted, head between his drawn-up knees, he heard soft steps as someone came up the ladder to this bedroom.

“I would have thought you’d slept long enough the last time, Linky.” Said Purah dryly, but not unkindly. “You’re really pushing my skills here. I had to research tech that hasn’t been used since the Zonai disappeared.” Link slowly lifted his head to look down at his arm. The rot was still there, shriveled black skin stretched over tendon and bone. Two things were different: there were engraved metal bands that clasped his arm from wrist to bicep, softly buzzing with energy, and there was a Sheikah emblem tattooed on the back of his blackened hand.

Purah remained uncharacteristically quiet, letting Link take in the changes, before starting up again to enthuse about the tech. “I’m going to keep optimizing it, of course. It’s wildly inefficient at the moment but I needed to get something on you or you’d lose the arm. Currently the runes are drawing directly from your energy just to stop the procession of the corruption, but I plan to improve that. As such I think it’s going to take you a while to get your strength back. I saw you lost your slate—“ her voice hardened in sudden anger “—but until you get it back I’ve got plans to add some capabilities to this tech in the meantime.”

Link finally found his voice. “Zelda.” he croaked, his defeated, exhausted gaze rising to meet Purah’s.

Her face softened. “We were worried why she wasn’t with you, why you were in that state. We sent some people to the tunnels, but they haven’t returned.”

The half-hoping, half-pleading look in Link’s eyes disappeared immediately, replaced with stubborn determination as he placed his feet on the floor and rose, legs visibly shaking.

Purah sighed, as though she had expected this. “You’re in no shape to go after her now. Zelda has held her own in this world for longer than you have, and she can handle herself. You, on the other hand, need to build your strength back up or you’ll be knocked over by the first bokoblin you meet. Or the first gust of wind.”

Link ignored her, taking slow and unsteady steps towards the ladder. “Link, your clothes!” She yelled after him in exasperation just as he missed the second rung and disappeared from view. A loud thud and a startled exclamation from Symin rose back up through the hole in the floor. “Hylia, why me?” She asked the air.

***

Link glared at the straw monster in front of him, sweat running into his eyes. It took all his effort to raise the stick in his right arm, the numbness of the limb and unfamiliar weight of the tech making every movement sluggish. He had been hacking at the doll for hours and yet it looked fresher than he did.

Symin watched from the window, sipping a cup of tea. “Should we stop him?” He asked. It was several weeks now since the scrawny hero had picked himself up off the floor and legged it out the door, only to collapse less than halfway down the hill. Since then, he had spent every waking moment making his best attempt at training.

Purah didn’t glance up from her book. “The man just lost everything he cares about for a second time. In many ways he’s worse off than he was when he woke from the century’s sleep. At least that time he had his strength, if not his memory. Let him work things out his own way.” Unspoken between them was the knowledge of reports from central Hyrule that the castle was once again filled with malice and making the ground tremble day and night. Link had not told them the details of his encounter, nor indeed spoken hardly at all, but his grim determination said more than enough.

Only a few days later, the morning after Purah had successfully implanted the first upgrade into Link’s arm, Symin slammed open the door to her tower study, panic and worry twisting his face. “He’s gone! Link’s gone!”

Purah turned to gaze out her window. She didn’t look surprised, but her normally boisterous personality was briefly extinguished. She shook herself and turned back to her notes with renewed vigor. “He’ll be back. Let’s be ready for him.”

Chapter 2

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

I was too excited to wait, so I’ve got a new chapter of My Past Became Our Future written! It’s nearly reaching the end, so I just wanted to thank everyone who has read, liked, commented, shared... everything with this story! I didn’t think it would get any kind of attention, let alone over 400 hits on Ao3!

So thank you, however you’ve supported this story, you’re all the reason I’ve kept writing it <3

Writing taglist for this story: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @lost-in-thought-20 @stardustlv (If anyone else wants to be on the taglist, let me know! :)

Read on Ao3!

Your Future Is My Privilege.

Word count: 2,193

Warnings: Swearing, weapons, fair amount of angst (crying in particular), threats.

“You don’t know how you’ve betrayed me.”

Virgil couldn’t remember how long he had been running for. His lungs were burning and the pain in his side was excruciating. He didn’t care though. The only thing that mattered to him was getting home, he knows Logan asked him to come back… but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it might not be the happy ending he was craving. If he has looked at the memory stick, it was over. There is no way anyone couldn’t forgive the information on that. Through his heavy breathing, he only just realised that he had made it home. He had to sit on the wall for a few moments so he could regain composure. When his breathing was calm and the pain in his side subsided, he made his way towards the door, unsure what to expect on the other side. He turned the key in the lock and called out meekly for his love.

“Logan? Where are you?” He stopped outside the living room before looking in cautiously. He couldn’t help but gasp at the state of it. Glass coated the floor, there were holes in the walls, the photographs were scattered in all directions. The anger was palpable, but so was the excruciating sadness. He walked into the room to see the full extent of the damage, and he couldn’t help but feel an agonizing amount of guilt, it was his fault that Logan felt so overwhelmed.

“Virgil? Is that you?” His voice called out in weak whisper across the room, and Virgil finally saw him. Logan was lying on the sofa, staring at the fire as it burned and roared in the fireplace. He had never seen him looking like this. So helpless, so defeated. He had to stop the tears that were threatening to roll down his cheeks. Logan needed him. He walked over to Logan and took his hand in his own. It didn’t take him long to realise that he was holding the USB stick in his other hand.

“It’s me, love. I’m back… Have yo- have you looked at it?” He held his breath, dreading the answer. If he said yes, he would have to leave forever, and he wouldn’t be able to protect Logan from the others. That was something he had always feared throughout the years. Logan continued to stare at the fire, it was almost as if he was calculating his answer. He eventually pushed himself on the chair so he was face to face with Virgil. He felt a sense of relief when Logan place his other hand over his, it was almost a reassuring gesture.

“Alright, I've thought long and hard about what I want to say, ever since you left. These are prepared words, Virgil. I've chosen these with absolute care.” Logan explained in a calculated voice, it was almost a way of helping both of them to be strong for that little bit longer.

“Okay.” Virgil’s voice broke as he responded, he was surprised at how defeated he sounded. Logan moved a hand up to his face, and willed Virgil to look into his eyes.

“Listen to me… The problems of your past are your business. The problems of your future... are my privilege. That's all I have to say; that's all I need to know.” He looked down at the USB stick in his hand. He held it up, and Virgil looked away ashamed. Logan then threw it into the roaring fire as he watched it burn with a satisfying crackle. Virgil looked stunned at the action. “If it wasn’t clear. No, I didn't read it.” Logan clarified and Virgil began to cry, the sobs wracked through his body as Logan pulled him close.

“I finally worked out what you meant with your last name. You were asking me to save you, right? I’m sorry it took me so long to realise it. In the end though, we’ve saved each other.” Virgil nodded in agreement, with all of it. He was thankful he didn’t have to explain it, Logan did it perfectly.

“You still don’t know my real name.” He chuckled as he buried his head into Logan’s neck.

“Is Virgil Sanders good enough for you?” There was a smile in Logan’s voice, something he had missed hearing over the last few days.

“You know it is!”

“Then it’s good enough for me too.” Logan pulled them out of the embrace, then closed the gap between them with a passionate but gentle kiss. He’d been waiting to do this ever since he left, the way that they signify their promises to each other. They’ve been together for years, but Virgil still felt butterflies when Logan kissed him. Virgil couldn’t help but recognise that it’s something you wouldn’t expect to hear from a professional, retired assassin. They finally parted, and Virgil could hear a faint scratching sound coming from the front door. It was obvious. Someone was using a lockpick to gain access. There was no time to lose.

Virgil grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled him into the corner of the room. He gently got him to crouch down before squeezing his hand and miming at him to stay quiet. Logan nodded in response and watched Virgil move around the room silently monitoring the situation. He grabbed his daggers from a compartment on the mantelpiece, he always kept them there just in case they were ever found by The Family. He moved towards the light switch and clicked it off, consuming the room in an uncomfortable shroud of darkness. Virgil finally took his place by the doorframe, staring out into the corridor, a dagger in each hand ready to attack if it was needed. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, this would have been the first time he has had to actively protect Logan, and if that meant laying down his life to keep him safe, then so be it.

The door clicked open, he heard a faint gasp from Logan and he crouched down trying to gauge the figures who tentatively made their way towards him. There were two people. Janus and Roman? He couldn’t tell. There was no time to wait, he moved silently and turned the lights on. He held his daggers in a guarding stance as he stared at the intruders with conflicting emotions.

“Well, that’s a bit of a rude greeting don’t you think?” Nico called out in a joking tone, they put their weapons down to try and prove that they weren’t a threat. Virgil hesitated, remembering the betrayal he felt when they came into the room on that video call. He remembered how they were Patton’s assurance if Virgil didn’t go through with his plan. Despite it all though, he couldn’t forget the fond memories they have together as a group. Thomas and Nico had seen them through everything and had been there every step of the way. Virgil was so conflicted, he didn’t know what to do. He pointed a dagger at both of them and glared at them, letting the rage consume his whole being once again.

“Give me. One good fucking reason… why I shouldn’t kill you both where you stand.” His voice trembled as he struggled to keep his anger in check, he didn’t even notice Logan walking up behind him and standing in the doorway. The confusion on his face was palpable, and the boys just looked at each other, then to Logan and back to Virgil. Thomas held his hands up and looked Virgil directly in the eye.

“For starters honey, you’re gonna have to get in line behind Patton.” Virgil couldn’t help but smirk at that remark, but he shook it off and held his resolve, his daggers remained firmly in place.

“Why? You kept this from me all of this time! You must have known that I was an assassin too… I don’t exactly blend in. Both of you, you made your way into our lives… you made yourselves at home. You helped us find our ground in our relationship. You’ve seen us laugh, seen us cry… you planned our wedding for shit’s sake. We trusted you with our lives, and you’ve still been going behind my back.” He couldn’t stop the tears from flowing again, the pain Virgil felt was finally exploding out of him, the daggers in his hands were shaking violently and Logan wrapped his arms around him from behind.

He collapsed back into Logan’s arms as his legs gave way and the daggers dropped to the floor with a loud clang. Thomas and Nico sighed in relief, they knew Virgil could have killed them if he wanted to, they know his background. The guilt they were already feeling overflowed and they couldn’t stop themselves from crying either. They never thought it would come to this. Logan picked Virgil up and took him back into the living room, all the while whispering reassurances in his ear then placing him gently into the chair in front of the fire. Thomas and Nico followed, Nico put a hand on his husband’s shoulder who nodded in response and he walked slowly towards Virgil. He crouched down in front of Virgil, who was still sobbing softly into Logan’s chest. He looked at Logan first, who also nodded and he began to explain everything.

“Virgil, sweetheart. I know how you feel. I don’t blame you at all for feeling like this. You have every right to feel angry at us. You’re right. In the grand scheme of things, it was a betrayal of trust… but please believe me, believe us. We didn’t know the full story either. When we first met at the restaurant, we weren’t working. It was just us being out on a day off. Patton text us that evening, and sent us your file. He told us you were being threatened, we were there to keep an eye on you… protect you. Then we got to know you, you were no longer our mark- neither of you were. You became our friends. Now, we’re a family. It’ll be the four of us against the rest… if you want us to be.”

Virgil listened intently to everything that Nico said, and he began to realise that this was all just part of Patton’s game. Patton had created quite the circus over all these years, and the clowns have always played their parts to perfection. He looked around the room, first at Nico, then Thomas before resting his gaze on Logan. It was his call after all. It was his life on the line.

“Starlight, wherever you go, I go. In the end, Thomas and Nico are here by our side. I believe they’re telling the truth, I can see it in their eyes. I’m bewildered at the fact that they’re in The Family as well but I accepted that about you. It would be very hypocritical of me not to accept them too. I assume you’re here because there’s a threat. Let me guess… Patton gave Virgil an ultimatum. Kill me and go back to The Family, or you two kill me and all of you remain trapped in the League… Am I wrong?” The other three men looked at Logan in shock. There was an almost comical silence between all of them. If this was a Wild West film, a tumbleweed would have made its way through the room.

“Come on, it was the only logical explanation. Why else would you all come here? So, what’s the plan?” Everyone looked at each other, they weren’t sure what the next step would be. If truth be told, they didn’t think they would make it this far.

“We run, before the deadline is met.” Virgil said plainly.

“We get away from here.” Thomas added.

“It doesn’t matter where.” Nico finished off.

They all looked at each other, and nodded in agreement.

“So, let’s gather everything we might need and meet back here in an hour.” The plan was set. Before anyone could make a move to put the wheels in motion, everyone jumped at the sound of slow clapping and the sight of someone waiting outside the door. The noise reverberated off of every wall, they all looked around, waiting to see who was there. Virgil closed his eyes in irritation at the fact that he had dropped his daggers in the corridor earlier. Thomas gave him one of his Sai Swords so at least he had something to attack with. The three of them formed a barrier around Logan, a silent vow that they would protect him with their lives.

“Aww, well isn’t this lovely!” They all stared at the figure smiling from the darkness of the doorway. The glint of Virgil’s daggers taunting him in the dark.

“Why am I not surprised that you’ve turned up here… Patton?” Patton started giggling and stepped forward into the light of the fire. The daggers being held firmly in both hands. Virgil put his hand out behind him to reach out for Logan, but there was an empty space. He kept a straight face, there was no way he was giving Patton the satisfaction of seeing him panic.

“You son of a bitch. What have you done with Logan?!”

[remuslupinfest]

Remus Lupin Fest 2020 Master List (Anon)

We're pleased to release this years Master List of fics, sorted by ship and alphabetically! There's 38 incredible works! Author and artist reveals are next week.

GEN

TITLE: First Year SUMMARY: I hope whoever prompted this in the first place is happy with the result. I know it's super messy but I was experimenting a bit with my style!

TITLE: On Talking SUMMARY: Five conversations Remus Lupin and Minerva McGonagall have during Prisoner of Azkaban and one they do not.

TITLE: One of Many Happy Moments SUMMARY: Remus has only come back home from one of particularly typical days of teaching in Hogwarts, but he couldn’t refuse Teddy to read the book together

TITLE: Remus Lupin Sleeping Peacefully SUMMARY: Prompt: Remus sleeping peacefully.

TITLE: Tousled SUMMARY: Prompt: Remus wrapped in a sheet/duvet going to the bathroom or kitchen after having had sex with someone. Maybe someone knocks on the door and he can’t find his trousers. He’s flushed, tousled and possibly has a hickey or two.

REMUS/MISC

TITLE: A Heart Grows Warm SUMMARY: After the war, Remus is a single father and desperate for a job. Snape hires him to work in his potions shop, but Remus can't ignore the building sexual tension between them.

TITLE: Bad Moon Rising SUMMARY: James, Lily and Voldemort all died on Halloween night. Years later, Remus is working in the Auror Department on a confusing case of a transformed werewolf stalking a family outside of a full moon and is assigned a brilliant new Auror, Nymphadora Tonks, to work with him.

TITLE: Briseé SUMMARY: Death eater!Remus struggles to face his past after the death of his lover and the end of his freedom.

TITLE: Care to Share? SUMMARY: Remus had every intention of enjoying solidarity over the holidays. That may change now that he's not the only Slytherin staying behind.

TITLE: His Luck SUMMARY: Modern setting, model/photographer AU for Remus Lupin and Narcissa Black. Written for the Remus Lupin fest 2020.

TITLE: Hold Me While You Wait SUMMARY: Remus Lupin just needs someone to hug him.

TITLE: One Night In Barcelona SUMMARY: The chemistry was too much to resist.

TITLE: Readjusting SUMMARY: When Voldemort murders Frank and Alice Longbottom, their baby survives. Meanwhile, Lily moves into a flat in Muggle London. Alone. With baby Harry and the cat. Remus helps.

TITLE: The Paths We Take SUMMARY: Lily Evans Lupin is a detective, though her husband Remus' name is on all the paperwork. He writes incredible tales while she solves mysteries. All seems normal as the Second World War ends, and Lily is hoping for peace and eventual renown for her talents legally attributed to Remus. Her and Remus' entire world comes crashing down once more as Sirius O. Black, Remus' first love, enters their agency, with one request: to find his missing brother Regulus, who joined the Nazis and hasn't come home. Can Lily find the missing Regulus? Can Remus face his heartbreak?

TITLE: You keep messing with my brain SUMMARY: The awful truth was that when he had noticed Regulus Black he couldn’t exactly look away anymore.

WOLFSTAR

TITLE: AMOR VINCIT OMNIA (love conquers all) SUMMARY: Remus, a servant boy to the cruel Emperor Voldemort, meets Sirius, a charming nobleman. Together they fight for freedom and love in Ancient Rome.

TITLE: An Endearing Portrait SUMMARY: At the beginning of their seventh year at Hogwarts, Sirius fears that Remus’s mother and perhaps Remus himself, too, prefers someone else.

TITLE: Falling Into Place SUMMARY: There's always been something special about Remus Lupin, even if it's taken Sirius Black until his seventh year to realize it. Too bad he spends so much time agonizing over his changing feelings that he loses his chance. In which Remus acts like an idiot, Marlene is the snarky voice of reason, James is a mother hen, Peter is confused, and Sirius is seriously jealous.

TITLE: Fate and Other Ambiguous Notions SUMMARY: Truth be told, Sirius has never really paid much attention to Remus before... (Slytherin!Remus, Gryffindor!Sirius)

TITLE: Hold Me While You Wait SUMMARY: Remus Lupin just needs someone to hug him.

TITLE: If You’ll Be Waiting SUMMARY: Remus gets the Information that Sirius is probably still alive. He goes on a road trip to Germany with Harry to find him.

TITLE: In the Throws of You SUMMARY: Prompt 178: Sirius has a track record for picking bad BDSM doms, but luckily Remus is always there to provide the proper aftercare he needs.

TITLE: Ivory and Gold SUMMARY: Sirius Black is all Remus has been looking for and more. A muse, an inspiration, a theme he never wishes to let go. He’s magnetic. And Remus lets himself be pulled in.

TITLE: Let the Awful Song Be Heard, Bluebird SUMMARY: Prompt: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is really just a squeal of pain. – Vita Sackville West In some ways, they are still Padfoot and Moony.

TITLE: making a fool out of myself (for you) SUMMARY: Sirius and Remus have been friends for years. However, unbeknownst to the other, both of them have a secret life working as a clown. Over the years, Remus and Sirius have competed against each other in the clown/birthday party circuit, becoming actual clown enemies of each other without knowing their true identities... until now, that is.

TITLE: Meet the Moonies SUMMARY: Remus introduces Sirius to his parents for the first time.

TITLE: Renewal SUMMARY: Remus and Sirius return to Remus's cabin together after the events of Harry's third school year come to a close. Remus decides that Sirius would be much better off with a haircut and some TLC.

TITLE: Sanctify My Body (With Pain) SUMMARY: When Remus leaves for what is essentially a suicide mission, Sirius finds himself grappling with the realities of a life where he doesn't know if the love of his life is dead or alive.

Perhaps the most confusing question in these situations is: which is worse?

TITLE: Siren songs SUMMARY: Sirius had heard of mermaids before, of course. They were all over the songs bards performed at his parents' table and the tall tales sailors traded in every port. He had never given much thought to whether or not the stories were true, though. Imagine his surprise when he and his best mates found themselves shipwrecked on an unfamiliar shore, with a breathtaking and mysterious merman for their only ally.

TITLE: Sweet Nuthin’ SUMMARY: When the summer between third and fourth year begins, Sirius expects it to be nothing but lazy days, harmless pranks with James, and the occasional meet-up with the rest of his friends from Hogwarts. Those plans go out the window rather quickly when he gets a sudden glimpse of Remus Lupin, a mysterious boy who changes everything about Sirius Black's life and shows him that love will always win in the end.

TITLE: Teddy’s Wedding SUMMARY: Teddy's wedding brings about memories of the past and hopes for the future.

TITLE: That Iron Taste SUMMARY: In the middle of a particularly bitter winter, a new attendee starts showing up in Father Black’s congregation. He is entirely unfamiliar and wholly arresting. In his wake there will be confusion, horror, heat, bliss, blood, and perhaps the end of reality itself.

TITLE: The Great Gay Pornstar Twitter Feud of 2020 SUMMARY: “So what I’m hearing is that you’ve got a date with your hot, clever, fellow porn-star twitter nemesis, of whom you once said ‘I’d rather die than let that pretentious knobcloud touch my dick’... is that about right?”

“... Yes.”

Or; Remus Lupin forgets to turn the fucking camera on.

TITLE: The King I Could Become SUMMARY: Prince Sirius of Nox has one thing he cannot stand. Or rather it should be said, one person. Prince Remus of Lupos. They had never gotten along well, though their kingdoms are close allies, but a disturbance in the lands has brought them together on a quest. They'll be able to take down this threat...if they can survive each other's presence first.

TITLE: The New Sailing Master SUMMARY: Sirius is a pirate, Remus is a fugitive, Remus manages to get a lift aboard the Blithering Idiot and it's love at first sight…

TITLE: Things We Can’t Say SUMMARY: Prompt 18: Angst during the first war, based on being on opposite sides. Trying to convince them to join the light side maybe, or accidentally injuring each other or close friends of each other.

TITLE: Thoroughly Debauched SUMMARY: Prompt: Remus riding Sirius in a chair

TITLE: To Admit What Is Not More Illegal SUMMARY: On Valentine’s Day in their seventh year at Hogwarts, Sirius tries to offer what Remus needs, and starts figuring out if he's ashamed of something, and if he is, what it is.

TITLE: You Would Be Calling Me Moony SUMMARY: A month after Sirius falls through the Veil, Remus starts seeing Sirius in his dreams. But they're only dreams...right?

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Summer Solitude pt. 3

Main Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Koge Naegi (OC)

Story Rating: Explicit

Genre: Fluff / Romance / Domestic 

Story Warnings: Cursing, sex (vaginal and anal), spanking, choking, dirty and degrading talk / name calling, knife play (no injury), squirting, fingering, light bondage, lots of gross fluff at the end

Words: 4,915

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3

Written for the @bnhabookclub​​ ‘s members bingo event!

Crossed off: Knife Play

Bingo Masterlist

Art in banner by me

An involuntary squeak left Koge’s lips as she was tossed roughly onto the bed, landing on her stomach and bouncing with the impact. With the ball gag tied firmly around her head, the mild sound of surprise was one of the few she could make, the rubber ball in her mouth preventing her from objecting to the rough treatment she had been subjected to. Since the moment she had agreed to his commands out by the fire, she had been at Bakugou’s mercy, bound and gagged before her body ever hit the bed.

With her arms tied behind her back using one of Bakugou’s button down shirts he had brought with them for the weekend, she was left defenseless and unable to move easily, if she even wanted to. She knew that if she even tried to move, he would punish her. How severely was the question she couldn’t quite answer, but she had given him permission to do anything he wanted, with the exclusion of actually cutting her skin with his incredibly sharp pocketknife. Though, with the entire theme of this little session, she knew that any punishments would be harsh. 

And she wanted that. 

Using her leg, she rolled herself over onto her side the best she could with the awkward position of her arms, peering up at him through her hair that had fallen into her face. She had barely settled before Bakugou’s large palm was between her shoulder blades, shoving her back face down into the pristine cotton comforter. 

“Who said you could move, bitch?” The pressure of his hand was making it difficult for Koge to breathe, though it only grew rougher in response to her whining in discomfort. “You lay there like a good little slut. If you even make so much as a twitch, you’re going to regret it.” His threat was made all the more vicious when paired with the swish and click of his pocketknife snapping open, immediately making Koge’s heart race. 

Not move at all?! I can’t see anything; I’m going to jump away from the knife. Clenching her eyes shut tightly, Koge only gave a single, timid nod, though she couldn’t help her body involuntarily taking in a huge breath when he removed his hand from her back. Straddling her legs, Bakugou sat down with quite a bit of his weight on her thighs, keeping her completely trapped in place while his hands explored and groped her backside. Still in her shorts and underwear, just seeing her completely soaked through the fabric had him excited, groaning at the sight of her. 

“Fuck, you’re such a horny little slut. Look how wet you are, soaked through these little fucking shorts.” A rough spank had Koge whining, curling her toes in an effort to not move against the exquisite pain. “You’re filthy. A horny bitch. I should just leave you laying here, dripping wet and all tied up.” 

As he spoke, Koge felt a new and unfamiliar sensation against her ass, the hard metal of his knife lightly trailing along her curves. She wasn’t sure if it was the sharp side of the blade or just the dull side, but it made her heart race, every nerve in her body becoming more sensitive in her anxious and helpless state. She was glad he had started out slow, putting the blade over her clothes instead of directly on her skin, probably to gauge her reaction. Though, the consideration of her comfort was short lived, the blade leaving her ass to run down and along the exposed skin of her thighs that he wasn’t sitting on. 

I-I still can’t tell what side that is. It’s cold!

Biting down onto the rubber ball, Koge turned her face more into the bed, every inch of her trembling. Yet, her arousal hadn’t subsided from the fear. Instead, it had skyrocketed, her core throbbing with her rapid heartbeat. She was sure Bakugou would notice, especially as he used one hand to spread her open, using his thumb to shift her clothing momentarily to the side. 

“So fucking wet. How’s the blade feeling on your skin, huh?” Leaning over her a bit, Bakugou ran the blade along her exposed lower back where her tank had ridden up, from one hip to the other, slow and agonizing. “Is it cold? Aren’t you scared that it could cut you any fucking second?” The side of the blade slapping against her ass forced a gasp from Koge’s throat, having to control the urge to jump away. “You didn’t move. Good girl. How about we get you out of those shorts.” 

For a moment, Koge felt her body calm at the thought that she could have a few seconds of relief from the fear, but there was no time to relax. Shifting himself up closer to her hips, Bakugou placed a hand firmly on her lower back to hold her down before digging the blade beneath the fabric of her shirts, using a quick upward motion to slice through the fabric. Squealing and trying to pull her arms loose out of instinct, Koge’s panic doubled, though his voice growling at her quickly put her back in her place. 

“I told you not to fucking move!” A rough spank to her ass was her punishment, though she could feel the blade being moved away while she had been struggling. Panting from the rush, Koge did what she could to quell her trembling body as his command, clenching her eyes shut tightly as the blade returned. It moved slower, though, slicing through the fabric of her shorts all the way to the hem before another rough pull followed, effectively cutting them apart. Then, the same thing was repeated on the other side, allowing Bakugou to yank the ruined fabric right from between her legs and toss them away. 

Now with just a pair of cute lacy panties covering her hips, Koge felt horribly exposed and even more fearful of the blade, which was trailing tauntingly along the hem of the underwear. “Mm, fuck. Look at you.” Spreading her cheeks open, Bakugou rested his cock between them, the warmth of his body making Koge’s skin tingle. “You’re so fucking wet, it’s all over your fucking thighs and your ass. And this lace, fucking shit-” The sound of the blade closing made Koge a bit curious, but she didn’t have much time to think about his actions before he held her hips tightly, his hips thrusting to stroke himself between her cheeks. With each push of his cock against her, the underwear grew taught against her sensitive clit, bringing whines and soft moans from behind the gag. 

“That’s right baby, arch your hips up for me. I think you deserve a little reward for being so obedient.” Using his thumb to hold the underwear off to the side, Bakugou shifted his position just a bit to slip his cock into her waiting cunt, filling her to the brim in one quick roll of his hips. Not even giving her time to adjust, his motions stayed fluid, fucking her with a steady rhythm. Immediately, Koge melted into him, her hips arching up against the pleasure and moans spilling from her lips. The anticipation and adrenaline had her so worked up and sensitive that her body was absolutely screaming for him, and so was her voice. Without the gag, she was sure she could wake up an entire neighborhood, the pleasure so intense she could barely stand it. 

Leaning over her small body, Bakugou dug his fingers into her hair, his lips pressed against her ear to tease her with his groans and the growl of his voice. “You love my fucking cock, don’t you? You love when I ram the shit out of your slutty pussy, huh?” Koge could only nod lightly, her response only gaining her more pleasure with his increased speed. “Yeah, you do. This tight little pussy is all mine. Ah fuck, Utsuro-” Her neck exposed from his grip on her hair, his teeth sunk into the sensitive skin along the side and back of her neck, bringing a new squeal from her lungs. Within the next few moments of his bite, Koge lost her control, cumming hard on his cock in a round of loud moans and jerks that shook her entire body. 

“Oh, you fucking naughty bitch,” Bakugou released her skin, once again growling into her ear as he paused his thrusts, keeping himself buried deep inside her. “I didn’t give you permission to cum, did I?” A rough spank paired with the still rolling waves of pleasure brought tears prickling in the corners of her eyes, keeping them close tightly to try and not let them fall. Bakugou spared no sympathy, sitting up fully as his full palm came down hard onto her ass again. Over and over, he punished her with spankings and deep rolling of his hips, stirring up the deepest parts of her and keeping her cunt filled to the brim. The pain and pleasure were enough to make Koge lose hold of her tears, her moans harshly interrupted by a cry or gasp when his palm met her skin. 

Yet, she could already feel her pleasure peaking again, each burning slap to her abused skin sending her closer and closer. 

“You want to cum again already, Utsuro?” His next slap was paired with a light crackling of his palm, the heat bringing a sharp gasp from the petite woman beneath him, unable to resist a smirk as she began to wiggle and pant heavily. “Oh yeah, you like a little bit of heat, don’t you? You’re not allowed to cum. You’d better hold it in.” 

Groaning and hiccupping in frustration as her tears finally escaped, Koge kicked her legs lightly, though her tantrum was rewarded with her untouched asscheek receiving a stronger spanking with a pop of his quirk. “Don’t throw a fit, Utsuro, you deserve this for being a disobedient little slut. You don’t deserve to cum.” Pulling his cock out all the way to the tip, Bakugou waited only for a moment before he plunged himself back in, leaving her red and abused cheeks alone in favor of propping himself up for better leverage. His thrusts into her were quick and deep as they had been before, solely intent on building up her pleasure. “Don’t fucking cum.” 

That was impossible. How could she not? He was slamming into her so hard and deep that each rough thrust had her seeing stars, her eyes rolled back and jaw slack around the rubber ball gag. Her entire body had lost all feeling with only the stinging of her skin and the pleasure in her core registering in her mind, and there was absolutely no stopping the buildup of her orgasm. Right before it could crawl over the threshold, Bakugou removed his cock from her completely, leaving her aching. With another cry of frustration, Koge kicked her legs weakly, sobbing and sniffling into the already soaked comforter her face was hidden in. 

“You were going to cum, weren’t you?” Sitting up off her legs, Bakugou grabbed her by the arm and rolled her over, waiting until she was settled before pushing her hair back out of her tear and sweat soaked face. “You just can’t help yourself.” 

Chest heaving, Koge attempted to blink away her tears as she gazed up at him, her body aching terribly from being left empty so suddenly. Although she wanted to whine and beg, she didn’t quite have the energy, staying limp for him while he moved to sit between her legs. Keeping them spread open nice and wide, Bakugou’s eyes trailed over her body, his hands wandering up her thighs and along her sides.

“You’re such a pretty little thing. But these clothes have to go.” Picking up the knife that was still resting on the bed nearby, Bakugou opened it with a flick of his wrist, the blade shining in the dim light of the bedroom. Seeing it now for the first time during this session, Koge felt that anxious energy return, whining softly as the cold metal slid across her stomach. Holding the hem of her tank top one hand to keep it steady, Bakugou sliced through the fabric just as he had her shorts. Slowly, the blade trailed up the middle, cutting through the thin fabric like it was warm butter. 

Finally seeing the blade in action, Koge watched it closely though her tears, unable to restrain a small jump and squeak at the way Bakugou roughly ripped it through the thicker hem at the neckline. With the flaps of fabric tossed to the side, all the attention was now on her breasts, which were neatly tucked into a lace bralette that matched her underwear. The blade worked along the heaving curve of her breast, catching on her erect nipple and following along the delicate form, until the sharp tip caught onto the lace. The lace cut away with no resistance, and before Bakugou got to the middle seam, most of her right breast was exposed. 

Trembling and struggling not to breathe in fear of getting nicked in such a delicate place, Koge bit down hard onto the ball in her mouth with the final rough tug Bakugou used to slice her bra apart. Tossing each flap of fabric to the side, he leaned more over her, the blade working across her breast and towards her collarbone. 

“You’re being such an obedient little slut for me.” Bakugou smirked down at her, his knife pressed against the side of her neck. “You like the danger, don’t you?” 

Koge could only give a timid nod, finally accepting what she had been trying to deny. Yes, she liked this, being roughed around, mistreated and on the verge of injury at all times with that blade against her skin. It made her adrenaline spike higher with every new movement, bringing a fire to her body that pooled between her legs. No matter how dangerous it was, she loved it, and she loved the energy it gave him. Bakugou was also on fire, the sparks gleaming in his crimson gaze as he slid the knife along her jawline. 

“That’s right, baby,” his smirk grew, baring his teeth in that menacing and familiar way that made her stomach flutter violently. “Good girl.” Shifting his hips closer, Bakugou propped her hips up a bit on his thighs, his cock resting between her legs and up against her sex. “Maybe if you’re really good, I’ll give you a little treat.” 

Although she was confused as to what this treat could be, Koge nodded again, her eyes locked on his cock and the pearling precum that dripped from his flushed tip. She wasn’t the only one straining for pleasure, and it wasn’t long before Bakugou slipped his cock inside her, slow and teasing with light rolls of her swollen clit beneath his thumb. The blade was closed and placed aside again, allowing his free hand to grip her breast with a firm squeeze, using every angle he could to tease and frustrate her further. 

Toes curling, Koge moaned as he dug his cock as deep as he could inside her, lightly bucking his hips again to stir her up. The attention on her clit and the pinching of her nipple between his fingers had the pleasure spiking rapidly, new tears spilling down her cheeks. Fuck, fuck! He’s so deep! I want to cum, I want to cum so bad! Please let me! Knowing she couldn’t talk, Koge could only beg with her eyes, which only made his smirk grow. 

“What’s that look? I only just stuck my cock in you, and you want to cum already?” 

Koge gave a weak nod, leaning her head back as he began full, slow thrusts, pulling all the way out to the tip and back to the base. His attention on her clit became more aggressive while his free hand moved to her neck, squeezing with light pressure. He was only further teasing her, she knew that was a fact, and he was just going to build her up to edge her again and again until she was nothing but a sobbing mess. First the spankings, and now this, choking her while he fucked her nice and slow. It was working, of course, and the next words that came out of his mouth instantly made more tears rush down her cheeks. 

“No. You’d better not. You hear me? You better hold it back.” The slow thrusts grew rougher, slamming into her cunt while still in a slow, rhythmic pace. “Hold it back for me, baby.” 

Eyes rolling back as his grip tightened on her neck, she began to grow lightheaded, every inch of her body becoming more sensitive. She could have sworn she could feel each vein of his thick cock drag against her insides, his tip kissing the deepest parts of her and filling her to the brim. It was impossible. She wouldn’t be able to hold it. It feels so good… Fuck it feels so good! Yes, deeper! A-ah, his quirk- on my clit, n-no, it’s hot! I can’t hold it like this! Koge squirmed with the new heat against her clit from his fingers, struggling to breathe and moan with the grip he had on her neck. As if to punish her for moving, Bakugou increased the speed of his thrusts, instantly breaking her and ending her tantrum. 

“Don’t cum, Utsuro! You’ll regret it!” 

It’s too hard! I want to! 

“Hold it!” 

I can’t! No, no- Katsuki--!

Right before she could lose control, Bakugou slipped himself out of her and released his grip on her neck, allowing her to breathe in deeply through her nose and squeeze her thighs together in frustration. Hiccupping as the edging brought on a dull ache, Koge looked up at him again, hoping that her pathetic expression would help sway him to finally giving her what she wanted. All it did was boost his power trip, rocking his hips along her sex while keeping her thighs closed around him. 

“That look, Utsuro. Fuck, it makes me want to destroy you. To fucking ruin you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

Still heaving to catch her breath, Koge nodded, soaking in the light pleasure against her clit. She wanted that more than anything right now, to just let him go at her so that she could take the pleasure and cum freely. At this point, she didn’t care how he did it or what he wanted to do. She just needed to cum, and her desperation must have been more obvious than she thought, as the wicked smirk on her lover’s lips only grew wider. 

“Yeah, of course you would,” Bakugou spread her legs open again, taking pleasure in observing the mess he had made of her. “You love it when I fuck you senseless. And you’ve been such a good girl for me… I think you deserve a reward.” Pulling her hips up further onto his thighs, he first stroked his length along her soaked cunt before placing his tip up against her neglected asshole, slipping in with ease and immediately sending Koge into a new round of gasping moans. 

Fuck, I should have known he was going to go there! M-my ass… he knows I can’t resist… It’s so deep! By the time he was completely buried into her, Koge was a trembling mess, sobbing and curling her toes as the anticipation of his movements grew unbearable. With the sound of a low hum resonating from his chest, she forced her clenched eyes to open, peering up at him through her tears. 

“That’s a good look for you, Utsuro,” Bakugou’s hand slid down her body, caressing her curves until he reached her neck, slipping around the back of her head to unclasp the gag. As it fell loose, he removed it, tossing it aside along with the forgotten knife and tattered clothing. “All helpless and desperate. Crying and drooling. You’re such a perfect little slut.” Before she could respond or even relax her jaw, two of his fingers plunged into her mouth, sliding across her tongue all the way to the knuckle. Along with the pressure on the back of her throat, Koge could feel him stir up her insides with light bucks of his hips, forcing choked whines to escape against his fingers. “That’s it. Suck on them. Fuck-” 

Just the sight and feeling of her following his commands spurred him on to fuck her properly, already working to pick up the pace where he had left off. It was difficult for Koge to keep up the attention to his fingers as he slammed into her, but she did the best she could, rolling her tongue around the digits and sucking on them as if they were his cock. Though, they didn’t stay long, as the need for release was starting to get to him too much to resist, and he set her mouth free in favor of holding her firmly in place. For the first time, Koge could breathe properly, taking in sharp breaths against her moans. 

“K-Katsuki-!” 

“Yeah, baby,” Bakugou slammed into her harder, forcing a cry and a hiccupping sob from her throat as she leaned her head back. “Moan my name. Cry for me and tell me how much you love my fucking cock.” 

“I-I love it-!” Her praise only granted her more effort from him, slamming into her so hard and deep she was surprised she could still think at all. “I love your fat cock in my ass!” 

“It feels good, slut?” 

“Y-yes!” “You want to cum for me?” 

“Please! Please, I want to! Please let me-” A sharp gasp interrupted her as the same two fingers he had plunged into her mouth now slipped into her waiting cunt, fucking her deep and in rhythm with the thrusting of his hips. She knew in that moment what he was trying to do, and with his fingers angled just the right way to drag across her sensitive walls, there wasn’t anything Koge could do to hold herself back. Within moments, the pressure built up and exploded, her body arching and trembling as a cry left her sore throat with her orgasm. The release so powerful, Koge didn’t notice the liquid that gushed from her, coating Bakugou’s hips and hand as he continued to thrust into her, prolonging the pleasure until he couldn’t hold back another moment. 

With how tightly she constricted against him, Bakugou didn’t bother to hold back his own grunts and moans, completely giving in to the ecstasy and the blissful feeling of release. Dug as deeply into her as he could get, his hot cum filling her, the blonde hunched forward over her still trembling body, using both arms to prop himself up as he struggled to come down from his high. “Oh fuck… Damn that’s… Fuck.” 

“Same,” Koge choked out through heavy breaths, her throat sore and mouth dry in desperate need for a drink. “Too good… All that torture today… Worth it.” 

Giving a deep, tired chuckle, Bakugou slowly removed himself from within her, carefully pushing her legs back a bit to observe the mess they had both made, with her liquid soaking them and his cum dripping from her. “Worth it. Fuck that was a huge squirt, Utsuro. I don’t think we’ll even be able to use these covers tonight, you got it everywhere.” 

“Your fault.” Blinking away the tears still blurring her vision, Koge looked at her hips, watching a stray bead of her essence roll down her abdomen to rest in her bellybutton. “You wanted it.” 

“It’s so fucking hot.” His hands slid around to her backside, using his thumbs to spread her pussy open, smirk crossing his lips at the way it twitched with further anticipation. “So pretty. Who knew you’d get so fucking turned on by a knife.” 

Cheeks flushing with a new heat, Koge huffed, placing her feet against his shoulders, and giving him a light push in punishment of his teasing. “Shut up. You’re the one that got all rock hard ripping my clothes apart.” 

“And?” Sitting down, Bakugou tenderly scooped her up to sit on his lap, straddling his legs and facing him. Carefully, he pulled loose the shirt that still had her arms tied behind her back, trailing soft kisses along her neck and shoulder as she rested against him. “You’re surprised?” 

“No,” Koge gave a soft sigh of relief once her arms were free, first stretching them out to the side before removing the last remnants of her shirt and bra. Once free, her arms slipped around his torso, hugging, and cuddling into him tenderly and gaining his embrace in return. “Not surprised at all. Dirty boy.” 

“Well you’re a dirty girl, so we’re even.” 

“So dirty that we need a bath. Like right now.” 

With only a grunt in agreement, Bakugou scooted off the bed and stood with her still in his arms, heading towards the large master ensuite. Within no time, the large soaking tub was filled with the boiling hot water that Koge preferred, which she also insisted on having nearly overflowing with bubbles from a bottle of bubble bath liquid she found in the cabinet. The instant she plopped in, she was nearly swallowed, bringing a chuckle from Bakugou as he crawled in behind her. “Where’d you go?”

“I’m in bubble land.” Koge scooped the bubbles out of her way, immediately scooting her way over to rest on Bakugou’s chest as he leaned back against the side of the rub, both of his arms up on the edge. With his lips finally easily within her each, she couldn’t resist kissing him softly, sighing in sleepy happiness at the feeling of his fingers running through her hair. “Mm… How’d I get so lucky?” 

“Lucky?” Bakugou continued to lightly push her wet hair back from her face, his usually stern crimson glare softened as he glanced over her fair features. With a small nod that brushed their noses together, Koge brought her hands up to caress his cheeks, smiling sweetly. Her beauty and the cutesy affection nearly had Bakugou choking on his own breath, his skin flushing beneath her touch. How she could do this to him, turning him into a pile of mushy feelings, was something he could never understand, nor was it something he ever wanted to lose. 

“Yes. There’s no one in the world as lucky as me. Because you love me. And days like this just remind me how special our love is. I’d never find something else like it in the entire world or any other lifetime. I love you so much.” Voice wavering as she grew emotional, she pressed herself up closer to him, pulling him into a passionate kiss that he returned immediately, even sitting up off the side of the tub so he could hold and caress her tighter. Times like this where they could be alone were so rare now that these types of moments were scarce, and even though Bakugou wasn’t one to be so sentimental, Koge’s loving and affectionate nature was infectious when these moments came about. He couldn’t help but melt into her, to hold her close and kiss her as if he’d never have the chance again. And, with his profession, anything could happen at any time that could rip them from each other. Just the thought of that brought a heavy weight of guilt on his shoulders, pulling away from the kiss to cup her cheeks and keep her attention. 

“I love you. And I’ve been shit about making sure we have time for us, to have days like this just to ourselves. I hate the feeling of missing you, even when we sleep in the same bed every night, and I know you do, too. I… let it happen way too fucking often. Because you’re right. I’d never find this again… And I wouldn’t even want to try.” 

Blinking away the new burning in her eyes, Koge caressed both of his hands, bringing them around to hold them at her chest. “I wouldn’t either. My Katsuki… You can’t ever leave me.” Nuzzling her face into his fingers, Koge couldn’t help the few tears that escaped her eyes, rolling down her nose and falling onto his skin. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” Before she could get too far gone, Bakugou hushed her, caressing her cheeks again and placing rough, playful kisses in random spots on her face until her voice broke with giggles. 

“None of that,” He growled with a fake threatening tone against her lips. “You have me forever, dumbass.” A final kiss ended the conversation, with Bakugou leaning back against the side of the tub again with his wife resting comfortably on his chest. Beaming up at him, Koge pushed his hair back out of his face, wetting it enough to keep it slicked back before she began to pile bubbles on top. 

“I bet I can style these bubbles to look like your hair.” 

“I bet you can’t.” 

“We are not doing another bet. I’ll lose again! I’m sad, I wanted this place to have a hot tub.” 

“Ah, speaking of that… They had already ordered one. So you wouldn’t have won either way.” 

“What?! Katsuki, you cheater!” 

“Ow! Don’t pinch my face like that!”

[spirit-of-the-void]

Ebony and Ivory- Bonus Vergil Ending

Author’s notes: So. This took me a really long time to write, and...well...I dont really know what to say about that. To be honest, the V ending got a lot of complaints, and it really tore down my motivation and confidence for this fic, for writing in general. Not to mention I was trying to get my life together for the beginning of this year, but the virus shit kind of ruined everything so im just...dead for the most part. Shit sucks, I’m tired, but...I felt bad about never giving this ending, so i did my best to make it something worth reading for you all. Im sorry it took so long, im sorry i never write or post anymore. Im just really doing my best to get through each day, and im really grateful for those of you who stuck around, and those who didnt

Heres to, hopefully, more writing in the future.

Bonus Chapter

Vergil’s alternate ending

So lost in the gravity of the moment, minds addled and fogged with sadness, pain, and rage...neither man heard you.

The Outsider didn’t notice you snap out of the pocket Void he held you in, didn’t hear the shattering of obsidian and the distant howl of a thousand voices screaming their denial, their sheer despair at your choice. After all, this place was a part of you--The void wanted it too, ached and craved and begged for his punishment. The man who caused you so much pain, left abandoned and alone to suffer all the agonies a world could offer. Surely this could not be, surely you weren’t making this choice, willingly embracing this agony in all its absolute brilliance?

 It hurt, it hurt. The pain was so fresh and alive, it rattled through your bones and spread like boiling, freezing water through every joint and tendon. Memory had always been your burden, from the moment you entered the Void to every fresh breath of it you drew to fight being swallowed whole by the inky abyss. And now those memories were like brands, searing into your skin and leaving scars so deep that they were numb. The burn didn’t stop, and neither would the images that came with them.

Images of your baby. Your son--Nero.

The instant you relieved that moment, saw his tiny form peppered with a tuft of white hair upon a shivering head you screamed, thrashing against the obsidian hands holding you back. One by one they shattered, shards drifting into absolute nothingness like dust floating on the breeze. More and more they came, trying to wipe it all away. And still...you writhed, shouted, held onto every moment, every pain. The guilt was more agonizing than anything else, sending your limbs trembling and mouth open in a soundless cry to join the ever shrieking masses. You left him, you forgot him. Your flesh and blood, your son left on a doorstep alone to grow up feeling abandoned and neglected. 

No amount of power could change what had happened to your mind, to your body bleeding out on a sidewalk. Strength was just a fleeting concept then, a whispered promise of brighter futures than your soul was made to endure. When that agony returned, when the tragedy of that day struck it left you shattering and broken, glass upon the ground begging to be picked up again. You weren’t like that anymore.

Strength was no longer an empty promise, it was something real and tangible. You could hold it in your hands, cradle it and nurture it with everything you had. It existed in the laughter of friends, in the feeling of holding a loved one’s hand,  deep breaths of ocean air and memories made in that place of tragedy that were so bright. For so long now ignorance had been your enemy, snatching away so much happiness and leaving you wanting. Losing V, the Outsider’s betrayal, this--if only you had known, if only things could change. If only. You were tired of those two words, the taste of them now foul and bitter like poison shoved down your throat. There it choked, spat out with more force than ever thought capable. No more ignorance, no more hiding from that deep, aching pain and regret--you knew now, and by the Void itself you would die before not knowing again. 

It felt like hours had passed before the hands finally stopped coming, a gasp escaping your lips like you had been held under the ocean’s weight the whole time. Finally, a breach. You crested over that familiar surface of water, falling upward until the familiar glow of the Void finally met your eyes. Obsidian hands managed to break your fall, eyes swimming with dizziness and tears while everything sank into the very core. Vergil, your love,  abandoning you, the order, the pregnancy, Nero--everything. This was the make or break moment, the time to sink or swim. You lay on the cold ground for some time, treading the waters of your own mind and trying not to drown while the Foresight screamed in unbearable pain. You would not break. You would not break. You would not break. 

You wanted to remember, wanted to remember everything. There were so many things that had to be said, apologies to be made, love to give. You wanted to weep at the feet of your son, to beg and plead for forgiveness and tell him how absolutely loved he was from the very start. To make up for lost time, to change everything without the fear of shattering apart. The past could not be fixed, mistakes were now written in stone. But you knew that didn’t have to mean the future had to be bleak. You remembered now--That deep feeling of love, meeting Vergil that first time and pouring everything into him. His betrayal had stung to your very core, had left your past self weeping along in a cold cell. But...that love wasn’t gone. It didn’t justify Vergil’s actions, but you knew now. No longer ignorant, having been so close and deeply in love with the human part of him he rarely showed. V, the broken man who wanted nothing more to be protected and loved. 

Now you knew both sides of the man you loved, and you didn’t want to lose that again.

Clarity seeped through the pain, weaving together the pieces left behind and keeping you solid. A wheeze escaped your lungs, sounds fading in and out as you struggled to rise from the ground. The Outsider’s voice, Vergil’s, the Void. Promises of punishing the son of Sparda, of leaving him still loving you while V was here to keep you happy and ignorant. Denial scraped along the already-battered walls of your head, gaze lifting just enough to see a blurry vision on the precipice of the endless sky. There the Outsider held Vergil up by his collar, framed by an endless glow without stars and no sun. Neither had noticed you, so lost in the Void’s howl and in the Outsider’s chiding promise. It made your teeth grind, head swimming with desperation and the unrivaled need to stop this, to stop everything. No more--no more pain, no more suffering, no more punishments. 

You dragged yourself, body trembling uncontrollably as the Foresight battled every inch of it. A fail safe, meant to protect you from memories that might bring about shattering. Right now it definitely wasn’t helping, but that didn’t mean you would stop. The hard ground of the debris scraped your legs as you went, but they were practically numbed by everything else. Whale oil rising like bile in your throat, eyes black and reflecting the Void’s glow like obsidian crystals. Your tears glistened, dew on their surface, falling steadily through the harsh, wheezing breaths. Clearer now, clearer every second. Vergil stared sightless ahead, eyes glazed and empty as he accepted the Outsider’s fate. His look of defeat shook you, made every cell scream out in denial and sorrow. Both of you were so young, so foolish, so desperate, so headstrong, so hurt--not anymore, not. Any. More.

“Vergil Sparda, this is your punishment for hurting my child.”

Enough. We’ve all had enough.

The Outsider jolted when you reached out, grasping the back of his jacket with shaking fists and pulling yourself upright. What a sight you must have been--body riddled in scratches from dragging yourself, pale and shaking while the wind whipped your hair into a senseless mess. The deity immediately gasped, dropping Vergil’s limp form in shock and leaving him sitting on the edge of the debris, jolted back into sense. For a brief moment, your eyes met. Agonized, horror-filled blue staring into the glistening black, reflecting so many emotions, apologies, and regrets. When he was like this, his expressions reminded you so much of V. You knew what he was seeing, feeling, remembering. Seeing what his choices wrought, the tragedy and despair left in the wake of an arrogant child’s selfishness and fear. And that’s what he looked like now--unabashed vulnerability, tears in his eyes threatening to drip down already-wet cheeks. That past was done, it was gone and left in the rubble of memories that longer mattered.

Here, now...that mattered.

“Y/N…!” The Outsider rasped in horror, griping both your shoulders as you grabbed the lapels of his jacket without letting go. It caused him to crouch to your level, expression filled with panic and shock as he continued on horrified, “You shouldn’t be here, you still...still--How did you manage to--”

You couldn’t explain, couldn’t give him the chance to send you back again. You choked on a shuddering breath, arms reaching up around his neck and pulling closer into the only embrace you had ever shared with the deity. The one who gave you life, saved you from the abyss and spent the past few years trying not to let you break--his methods were not the right ones to take, lingering in cruelty and the very pain he knew too. How could you expect a creature who knew nothing but the empty, mindless howl of the Void to know anything of comfort and affection? He had no one to teach him mercy, to remind him of what humanity was like. To let go, no more pain of betrayal, no more anger.

 He froze when you rested your face on his neck, body held against his as wind whipped around you both mercilessly. There was no warmth, not physically--but his chill was a comfort all its own,  a familiarity that kept you from shattering and calmed the Foresight into a low hum.

“N...no more…” Your voice was so tiny, a broken sob against his frozen skin as you squeezed tighter, “Please...please...No more.”

The Outsider swallowed hard, body still rigid as his hands very gently settled on your back. Like he was holding glass thinner than paper, on the verge of breaking. He grit his teeth, you could hear the grinding of his jaw from this close.

“You’re suffering,” He managed to rasp out, voice shaking with restrained emotion as one hand threaded through your hair, “My child, my only precious flower--you remember don’t you? You remember what he--”

I remember. I remember remember remember. And I never want to stop. 

“I don’t care…!” Your body shook harder, voice taking on the hard edge of resolve even while tears swam in your vision again. The memories hadn’t stopped, they refused to cease in their brutal assault. Vergil never coming to save you, the pain of being shot, giving birth alone and soaked to the bone. Blood on the sand, your son’s wail on the wind. His face, his tiny hands… You sucked in a shaking breath, heart aching as a broken whimper slipped from your lips, “Please...don’t take him from me...I can’t lose it again…”

I want to know him. I want to know Nero as my son. I want to know Vergil as my everything.

You didn’t want this pain to be a reminder anymore. You wanted to make new memories with your child, to make up for all the mistakes and everything he lost. To go on without knowing, to live in ignorance as his friend and listen to him speak of the sorrow that came with being abandoned...you would rather die. Guilt was not a stranger, and you knew it was possible to grow and heal from it again. Because you weren’t that broken soul in the Void anymore, having tasted what a happy life could truly be like at the very core of your being. A perfect word would have been Vergil coming to save you back then, stealing you away to a quiet place to give birth and raise your child together as better people, to move on. But this world was far from perfect, and that was okay. To learn, to move on and grow from what happened seemed too good to be true, but it was all you wanted, all you had. 

Vergil stared at you with absolute agony, those tears managing to trickle out against his will down sharp cheeks. You loved remembering him, those special first moments. Getting to hold his hand, a first kiss, that night...it had been everything, bringing familiarity to the time you had been with V. Of course the poet felt so right, so deeply familiar and necessary--your body remembered him, saw the black-haired human in every tender, vulnerable moment with Vergil. Getting to have them both was such a blessing, to learn that part of your soulmate so intimately and without restraint. He held so much back, drowned out by fear and pride that continued to choke his happiness. Things could change, they had to.

The Outsider sucked in a sharp breath at your words, hands shaking where they gripped the back of your blouse. You could teach him too, could help him remember what empathy felt like underneath the howling Void.

The cold has numbed you, but it doesn’t have to be that way. 

“I...I could return V to you…” The Outsider whispered, staring over your head into the empty abyss as the wind continued to howl for everything you had lost, “That man, he...he hurt you, broke--You. I almost lost my only child, the only gift this wretched place allowed me.”

In a way, the deity was a child too, not understanding his own emotion and lashing out in kind. All this nonsense had been born in how much he cared for you, so much that the idea of losing you scared him into cruelty. It wasn’t right, he hurt you and the people close to you in the process. It couldn’t continue like this anymore, not on the path of revenge and tragedy. 

You let out a soft breath, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to push back the tears. Your pain wasn’t helping him see clearly, nor was it aiding you in any way. It had to end, this ceaseless cycle—The Outsider needed to understand that you could handle this, that you could grow and stand on your own feet while carrying the weight of these memories around on your shoulders. 

“I know what that feels like,” You whimpered, breaths attempting to slow but still hitching with each swallowed sob. That fear he felt, the panic...you felt that all and more, “Please, father...don’t make me lose my child again.”

You felt him suck in a shuddering breath, eyes a glassy black as they stared over your shoulder into the abyss. In all the time you knew the Outsider, he had never shown emotion like this. Muscles locked to the point of shaking lightly with strain, air pressed through his nostrils like he was afraid opening his mouth would release an unwilling scream of denial. Because you knew deep down, knew he could understand your desire to keep these memories. Seeing you lose Nero had to hurt him too, bringing on the unwilling fear of experiencing the same thing once you almost slipped away. He had tried the only way he knew how, and now…that fear was caging you in, born of desperation and panic that kept the entire ocean at bay in the hopes of saving you from drowning. But he could never stop it from trickling through, not for long.

You delicately ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the wind send the short locks tossing back and forth. He felt so...human, real and solid. You were willing to bet he wasn’t always the God of this place, that his vulnerability and immaturity had roots in something deeply human. He froze sharply at the contact, hands squeezing the fabric of your blouse so tightly you wondered if it had started tearing.

“If I could take you away from this place, I…” You whispered, eyes closing softly as your body battled exhaustion, “The Void has made you cold, father. I just...I cannot let these feelings go.”

You leaned back just enough to stare at the Outsider’s face, obsidian meeting obsidian and reading each other’s faces. His eyes were wide with unrestrained desperation and sorrow, echoing so many years spent in this miserable place without the sun. You placed both hands gingerly on his cheeks, thumbs stroking along his high cheekbones as if waiting for tears to be shed.

“Father,” You whispered, voice aching with so many things better left unsaid as you stared at him steady and imploring, “Ignorance won’t protect us anymore.”

You hear Vergil suck in a breath at that, air dragged through teeth clenched so hard they might crack. The Outsider’s reaction was no different, those obsidian eyes wide and face a blank mask of shock and regret that showed no signs of fading. You knew what he was thinking, knew that desperate horror of watching you come so close to shattering, to becoming one with that deep, endless abyss. He was not used to fear, he was not used to being afraid. And that was something you could understand, something you wished so terribly to ease in any way you could. But this pain was so necessary, the deepest ache in your chest that gripped with icy fingers and refused to let go--shattering or not, painful or not...the memories were yours, and you wanted to keep them. You owed this to yourself, to Vergil, and especially to Nero. There were so many things you wanted to say to your son, and those things needed to happen above all else. 

There was a pause of silence between you all while the Outsider froze in place, seeming lost in thought as his endless gaze seemed to bore into your own. The only thing that broke the tense air was the howling winds from all around, even the moaning chorus of suffering voices seeming to quiet as they waited for the Outsider’s choice. If he decided against you, there would be a fight that could not be won, a fight that would more than likely end with you shattering from the stress already on your body. That was a risk the Outsider couldn’t afford to take, even with all the powers he held over you. The deep burn of foresight, icy veins of the Void’s magic as it traveled through your body--every breath was given to you by this ancient being, every bit of life you now carried each and every day. Without him, you would have never met Vergil, and for that you would always be grateful. 

The Outsider did not move for a very long time, only leaning back after his black eyes finally blinked at you. His hands slowly lowered from your form, falling back limply to his sides as he looked away, something akin to regret flashing across his face.  Exhaustion and acceptance followed like close companions, his eyes so very tired as the man rose to his feet, leaving you kneeling on the floor before him with a pleading expression on your face. For a moment, he could only stare down at you with more sorrow than one creature should carry, the chilled winds of the Void making his hair blow wildly in several directions. He looked more ancient than ever, the years spent in this wretched place more than showing on a face that was far too young to look so lost. The Outsider stared at you as if prepared to lose you forever, and that was the moment you realized he had finally made his choice.

“...I only wanted to keep you safe,” He spoke so softly, tone feather-light and echoing through the space as if he had screamed it out to the chorus of the Void. He rested one shaking hand upon your hair, eyes closing as his voice became ragged and somehow even softer, “I did not wish...to see you end.”

You nodded once, fresh tears dripping from your black eyes and onto the debris underneath you. The pain of his betrayal, every place you had traveled to, the lost memories and empty dreams...He didn’t know what else to do to keep you from shattering, fueled by desperation and that cruelty he knew so well. You didn’t want to hold onto it any more, these deep feelings of anger and regret that threatened so strongly to overtake you. They were nothing more than a burden now, and inexcusable weight that clung to your shoulders with sharp, unyielding claws. They had been your companions for far too long, and now...now they needed to leave.

You gripped the Outsider’s wrist tenderly with both hands, turning his palm over so you could press a kiss to it. He sucked in a sharp breath at the action, listening quietly as you replied in that hoarse, ragged tone, “I know...and I will be safe...I will,” Your black eyes raised, the color finally slipping back into your normal tone, the whites returning and glistening with tears, “Let me remember the people I love.”

You could see the lingering hesitation even as the Outsider pulled his hand away, eyes downcast and body stepping back toward the precipice. His gaze lingered for a moment on the form of Vergil, seeing the way he looked at you in absolute agony, the tears slipping down the sharp line of his jaw and the shattered expression in his eyes. There was remaining resentment there in those obsidian orbs, but he clenched his jaw and said nothing to the Son of Sparda. If you had to guess, the Deity knew that the only words that could get through the half-breed’s thick skull would have to be yours, and he wasn’t about to interfere with that again. So he paused only to look back at you again, face slipping back into his usual, neutral expression before you watched him disappear into a cloud of obsidian crystal shards without another word. You could understand that he needed time again, needed to process everything before addressing it again. 

He didn’t take away the gifts he had given you, at the very least. But the burn of Foresight was now gone, leaving only the familiar chill of the Void as it seeped through your limbs. For a minute you could only wheeze, trying to get the chaotic storm of emotions in check and feeling Vergil’s gaze linger on you with its familiar intensity. There were so many things between you now since the trials, since you attacked him in the Qliphoth. Those memories from Fortuna, of your first love and traveling together around the city--they mingled with every terrible, unspeakable event that took place after, all the terror and suffering that threatened to cloud out all the wonderful things. At the forefront was the guilt, the aching regret about what happened to Nero, of leaving him on the orphanage steps. It tore you up inside like razor blades, so very painful and absolutely unyielding. 

You slowly rose to your feet, turning towards the Son of Sparda with small steps and watching as his gaze lowered toward the ground. He didn’t dare look up at you as you approached, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths and hands shaking at his side. Vergil had never looked this way to you before, so lost and filled with absolute emotion. It reminded you of how V had acted in the Qliphoth tree, the desperate pleas and the guilty torment of knowing that he would have to leave you at the end of his mission. God, you were so grateful for getting a chance to know that side of him, to love his human half in its entirety before it eventually returned. Those moments were so precious, to witness the vulnerable things he tucked away behind all that anger and pride...All Vergil had wanted was someone to save him, to be loved and cherished like any other person wanted too. And you had more than enough love to give, leaving no room for anger or grudges left behind from past mistakes.

When he spoke, his voice came out low and hoarse, its tone and cadence barely managing to whisper over the Void’s howl, “Why...Why did you choose to remember? He...He could have made you happy, could have given you back the man who knew how to cherish you. But you...you…”

You ignored the question, sliding both hands through his slicked back, white hair and lingering there for a few moments while he breathed faster. Tension was there in his trembling shoulders, in the way those icy blue eyes stared down at the ground and refused to look away. You could feel it now, those walls he kept up for so long bending under the weight of regret, of truth and long desired affections. What point was there in fighting things now? At the end of the day he could no longer hide what he wanted anymore, could no longer hide behind the shield of indifference or spite. All that could possibly remain now was guilt and regret, of self loathing that had seeded itself deep inside since the moment his mother had died. Vergil had so many reasons to hate himself, for things that weren’t even his fault, and for things that didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was leaving those mistakes behind, remembering the good things and striving to do better.

He had that ability inside of him, you knew he did. The ability to change, to atone for his sins. 

“Why?” Vergil continued to ask, breathing growing more and more ragged as you lowered yourself in front of his hunched form, both hands cupping his chilled cheeks and forcing his tormented gaze to rise up to meet you. There was agony in its depths, denial and confusion that made your heart ache so terribly, “All I’ve ever done is hurt you…! I...hurt everyone, took from everyone--V could have given you everything you wanted, without the things that make me who I am.”

You rested your forehead against his, tears forming on your lashes like dew drops and dripping in crystalline droplets onto his thighs. You could feel it when his breath hitched again, sounding like he tried so hard not to cry.

“...We don’t have to hurt anymore,” You whispered, voice soft and just as ragged as his own. Both hands rested on his chest, smoothing over the lines of his vest and feeling his heart race through the fabric, “That man who made me so happy is a part of you, Vergil...It was that same part of you that brought me so much happiness in Fortuna, that you buried under the fear of vulnerability. You made mistakes, we both did...All I want now is to move on from them, to be happy with you, with Nero--we owe that to him after all he’s endured.”

You felt his jaw clench at the mention of Nero, knowing exactly what went through his head. Your child, shivering in the cold and wailing for parents who were both gone, a little boy growing up thinking that he had no family, that they  abandoned him without a second thought--then as an adult, having his arm ripped off by the man he learns to be his father, left bleeding on the garage floor in pain. Years and years of not knowing, of aching to learn who his family was, then one strolls in and literally takes a whole limb. The agony that must have caused, and now...now there was still more to learn, the truth hovering so close and the boy didn’t even know it. All those things had been mistakes, yes, but it was Vergil who had to own up to them, who had to learn and try to do better. And that had to be the hardest part, to learn from one’s mistakes and not sink into the pit of self-loathing to cope. 

You let out a slow breath, trying to gather your words through the storm of guilt and emotions that still carried from the regained memories. Each breath felt like ice, words coming out hoarse yet firm as you told the son of Sparda, “You...You have to let those things go, Vergil, you have to talk to your son...Please...please. Please don’t leave us again, learn from what has happened and do better.”

We both can do better. For all of us.

You heard him swallow audibly, hands clenched into fists at his side as Vergil fought every ounce of instinct he had built up over the years. To hide his emotions away, to swallow them down and feel nothing but resentment and anger like it would somehow protect him. Self loathing was at its core, the final wall of his defenses once everything was gone. At the end of the day you knew that Vergil needed to learn how to be happy, to live with the things he had done and make reparations for them as best he could. Protecting others, doing things for the sake of good and not greed...those parts of him were real and tangible, you had held them in your arms once, kissed them with tender lips. They had been true and filled with so much emotion, and they wouldn’t just go away at a swipe of the Yamato.

Vergil finally looked up to meet your gaze, the faintest hint of tears clinging to his grey lashes as you swiped them away with your thumb. It was still so odd to see so much emotion on his face, torment obvious and out in the open.

“...How can you still love me after all of that?” He whispered incredulously at the look you wore, one of deep adoring and exhaustion as you continued to cup his cheeks, “I...I don’t understand. I don’t deserve it.”

His words made your heart ache terribly, thudding away in your chest like a caged bird trying to be free. Vergil’s was pounding too, closer to hard fists on steel walls of a person trying so desperately to escape a deep agony.  

You stared into his eyes as steadily as you could, voice coming out soft and reassuring as you explained, “Because love isn’t about deserving it or not, it’s about feeling emotion... and acknowledging it without running away,” You reached down, threading your fingers with the trembling digits of his own and giving a light squeeze, “Vergil Sparda is meant to be mine, and I don’t want anything else but that...I want to be with the one I was made for, and...that person is you.”

You broke me, and I broke you...I think we’re done breaking each other, aren’t we?

All that was left was to pick up the pieces.

You were shocked when Vergil’s arms pulled you against him hard, wrapped around your waist and squeezing as he buried his face against your shoulder. You could feel his ever breath, hear it rattle and shake with rasping sobs that had ached so desperately to be free this whole time. God, it felt good to finally be held by him again, every precious memory returned and emotions so very raw. You could feel them now, everything he had bottled up inside pouring out like water from a shattered glass. How it must have felt to finally acknowledge so many years of repressed emotion, to embrace someone without the heavy shackles of pride or hesitation. You embraced him back with accepting arms, eyes squeezing shut at the relief that came with being with the one you loved again. Whole and complete, just as tender as when he was V yet somehow more bittersweet. 

This was everything you had craved without even knowing it. 

You pressed kiss after kiss to his neck and shoulder, breaths slowing and the hollow ache in your heart finally fading at his touch. He was so strong, body holding fast against yours and the lines of it so very familiar. The storm inside was familiar too, you an anchor for the son of Sparda when he needed it most. 

“...I…” Vergil whispered after some time, voice low and hesitant as he swallowed back some of his emotion. You could feel his arms squeeze tighter, face pressed to your neck as he admitted, “I...I love you...Even back then, when I left, you...I thought about you the entire time I was on the ferry, yet I just...just…”

Forgot. That was the Outsider’s doing, wiping Vergil’s memory so that when you returned he could be punished without any complications. You let out a soft breath, leaning back to touch your forehead to his once again just as the portal started forming underneath you--crystalline hands curled upwards, gently wrapping around your forms as the Void’s hollow wailing grew louder and louder. As if saying goodbye, crying out in mourning for something that it felt like it was losing. Even if he wasn’t visible, you could feel the Outsider watching you both, his trepidation like a tangible force that filled the empty skies of the Void like thick, hovering storm clouds. He was afraid for you, he was lonely and alone. But you would not be leaving for good--even with the dark memories it carried, the empty blackness was a part of you, and so was the black-eyed God who resided there. You would return again someday, after having a chance to heal.

“I know,” You whispered to Vergil, feeling the Void’s howl ringing sharply in your ears as it started to fall away, “It’s over now, that pain is over. Let’s go home, and see our son.”

~~~

~Four Months Later~

You could tell it was still in the early hours of the morning, the sun barely peeking through the curtains of your bedroom in orange, pink colored hues. Warm--everything felt warm now, safe and comforting as you had sought for so long. More than anything, things felt correct, like every missing piece of your puzzle had finally fallen into place. Absolute in its entirety, perfected in its security. The way light air billowed through the windows, making curtains drift in a slow dance of dark blue fabric in the direction of your bed--Vergil’s arm wrapped around your form, his steady heartbeat under your ear and the warmth he shared with your body. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt peace like this, a rightness that seemed to fill up your form like honeyed milk and bringing with it a sleepy peacefulness that made it incredibly difficult to rise for the day. Then again, you were a better morning person than the son of Sparda, who would no doubt awaken surly and annoyed as he usually did.

So many things had happened in the past few months since you returned from the Void, so many things and so many emotions to work through. You had fallen onto the sand with Vergil by your side, Nero and the others rushing out to meet you in relief and worry at the way you both looked--even more so when you collapsed upon the white haired boy and sobbed, refusing to let go as apology after apology had burst from your lips. Eventually Vergil was able to coax you into letting go, and then...well, you had to tell Nero everything. Every regained memory, every terrible tragedy and all the things you so desperately wanted to say sorry for. He had to know how much he was loved, that you so terribly wanted to stay with him but circumstances never allowed. He listened to it all in wide eyed shock, but you had the feeling that he could sense for a long time that there was something that tied you both together, something neither of you could understand until now.

You were telling the truth, and he couldn’t very well deny that. His best friend had been his mother all along, and that was a lot to take in. He was struggling with the knowledge, but not as much as the fact that he wasn’t abandoned for being a half demon, that his mother went through so much terrible tragedy and died on the steps of Fortuna’s orphanage. All those years of searching and filling himself with questions and resentment, all of it for nothing. His mother had come back eventually, and that whole time he thought himself the older one, like he was meant to protect her like a little sister. Things had become such a mess, weaved together in chaotic knots that took a solid hour to weave with Kyrie there to support Nero while he absorbed it all. You were shocked to see that this info was somehow a relief to him, and even more so when he embraced you like a mother as if it was somehow the easiest thing in the world...like he had wanted nothing more. 

Mind you, Nico was in absolute shock about all of this--she kept staring in slack jawed awed at you and Vergil, unable to wrap her head around any of it. You, one of her closest friends, had given birth to a punk like Nero? How the hell was such a thing supposed to make sense?

Naturally, the very next thing Nero did was punch Vergil square in the jaw.

Both you and Dante had to hold the hot-tempered devil hunter back as he shouted curses at his father, railing into him for everything he had done to you and all the pain he caused. All his childhood questioning, all the pain--if Vergil hadn’t been such a dick so much suffering could have been avoided. You protested in between that things were fine, that it was in the past, but the son of Sparda didn’t say a word, didn’t fight back for once. Her merely sat on the ground where he had landed after the blow, rubbing his jaw with one hand and staring blankly at the ground. He was trying so hard, you could tell--sorrow lingered in the depths of his icy blue eyes, mingling with self-loathing as Nero reiterated back all the terrible things he had done and what a terrible person it made him. You wanted to stop him, but...Nero deserved to speak his mind, and Vergil had reparations to make.

After some firm discussions on the matter, you and Vergil agreed that it would be best to stay at Devil May Cry while things settled down, to find an outlet for the son of Sparda that would actually let him help people. Kyrie and Nico were both disappointed that you’d be moving, as were the children, but...right now was a sensitive time for Vergil, one where you were too nervous to let him be around things that would only make him feel worse. Until his head was sorted out, Fortuna was too much of a terrible memory for you both to literally live in the location of, and staying at Devil May Cry would be for the best until that was sorted out.

Regardless, the next few months passed somewhat peacefully. You and Vergil joined Devil May Cry, and set about fixing Redgrave City and rescuing any survivors still trapped inside. There were buildings to be fixed, roads that needed repairing, and broken families that needed to come back together. You knew this would be hard on Vergil too, but it was absolutely necessary that he try to make up for all the terrible things he had done. Every life taken in his pursuit of power would weigh on him for a while, and that wasn’t going to change any time soon, but...this did help. It was a while before the son of Sparda wasn’t listless anymore, that you could get more emotion from him that wasn’t guilt or regret. Mind you, Dante being irritating did help with that, but even he was worried the first few months when he would taunt Vergil and get nothing but sadness from his brother.

The surly man had been through too much trauma, seen too much. Having you by his side was his only anchor for a long time.

Which led back to present day, you wrapping a leg around his waist and letting out a heavy sigh of impatience when Vergil still slept soundly. You would think that someone like him, all pride and silly rules, would be much better about getting up in the morning. Instead, he was somehow worse than Dante, all annoyed grunts and exhausted stares as he dragged himself downstairs for a cup of coffee or tea. At least Dante would come down sleepy but cheerful, usually around noon or one o'clock in search of day old pizza. You knew trying to wake the son of Sparda up would not be an easy task, but you knew that there would be missions today that needed preparations--Nero and Nico would be joining you, after all, and there was nothing more exciting than the idea of spending time with your son.

You hummed softly, slowly rising from where you lay against his side and sitting up on Vergil’s lap with mischief in your gaze. It was surprising--he had taken months to get used to sleeping next to you without jolting awake in defensive positions, and even longer to get used to you touching him. So the fact that you could now settle your entire weight on his waist and place your hands on his chest was a pleasant show of how far he had come. Christ, he was such a beautiful man--those grey lashes were resting against his cheeks, face peaceful and calm in rest with messy hair and kissable lips. You could have stared at the hard line of his jaw for hours, wanting nothing more than to nibble it with your teeth and smooch for hours on end. Such a hard urge to resist, especially considering that he definitely should have been awake right now to start getting ready.

He stirred a little bit when you leaned forward, kissing a slow line from his shoulders and neck to that jaw you had been admiring so much. He was so very warm, and hard by the feeling of him pressing against your ass. It would be fairly hard to stay asleep with you rubbing on him like that, worshiping his chest with your mouth and hands while he stirred just a little bit more. There was no denying that low, rumbling hum of sound that came from his chest, peaceful expression shifting into something far grumpier as he stretched out under your hips. Reminiscent of a mighty panther waking with a low growl, eyes still not opening even as you leaned your face against his neck and gently bit where a vein pulsed steadily under the skin. 

You weren’t surprised by the low rumble of his voice under your ear, sounding incredibly tired and slightly grumpy as he groused, “I thought you agreed only to awaken me early for emergencies, brat.”

There had been some sort of agreement--but you were a little too distracted to remember it, tongue sliding up his warmed skin with a soft purr of, “But it is an emergency, my heart...I’ll simply perish without your help.”

You were being a bit cheeky this morning, feeling a surge of mischief and glee when his hips couldn’t help but shift slightly underneath yours. That pressure had to be a bit constricting on his cock right about now, but you weren’t getting much of a reaction out of him yet--he never did fall for your dramatic claims.

“Oh?” Vergil murmured, eyes still not opening as you bit down on his left earlobe, heartbeat quickening in your chest as he continued on, “Will you now? You certainly have a lot of energy for someone close to perishing.”

That last word turned into a bit of a grunt when you purposely rubbed yourself against his cock, feeling its hard length shift and squeeze between your bodies. To be honest, this was probably doing you in more than him, that firm pressure on your clit making you moan breathily and lean against his form like a cat in heat. Your panties did nothing to sully the friction, arousal making its home in your abdomen and pooling warmth down into your core like melting honey. Vergil was certainly able to catch your mood, letting out an amused rumble of sound when you breathed heavily against his neck, rutting against his cock again with absolutely no shame. Honestly, a past version of you might have been embarrassed to act like this, especially with someone as prideful as the Son of Sparda. But you well enough by this point that he wasn’t phased by your unabashed desire--rather he enjoyed when you gave him this kind of attention, like it stroked his ego.

It definitely did. 

“Vergil…” You whined, wrapping both arms around his neck and pressing your entire body against his when he purposely tilted his head to the side as if feigning sleep, “Don’t be mean--I let you sleep longer today that I did yesterday.”

He chuckled lightly at that, finally cracking one eye open to stare at you in his typical, superior sort of way. Honestly, you were a bit dazed for a moment at how handsome he was, white hair a tousled mess on his pillow and lips curving into a bemused little smirk at the desperate expression on your face. Vergil had a special way of looking absolutely, arrogantly smug, especially when he knew how badly you wanted it. But he was also weak to your pleading, and even more so with you all over him and looking so very tempting in just a tank top and some panties--he’d be a foolish man to refuse you in even the most dire situations, although he had to get his fun in somewhere.

The half-demon clicked his tongue, head tilting back and eyes closing again as he replied to you in a purposely sleepy tone, “Maybe you should ask me nicely, doll, and I’ll think about indulging you.”

You bit your lip, knowing full well he wasn’t about to walk around aroused for the better part of the morning, especially not with work to do and especially not while meeting with your son. But it would be silly of you to call him on that bluff, especially since he was prideful enough to prove you wrong just for the hell of it. And quite frankly, you’d lose out far more than him with such a foolish game.

A sigh left your lips, body falling limply against his in a show of defeat, “...Please?” You murmured softly, chin resting on his chest as you stared at him imploringly, “Please, Vergil?” 

His smirk widened at that, showing his pearly white teeth in accompaniment with his equally smug reply, “You could always try calling me ‘sir’ just to sweeten it a bit, brat.”

“Now you’re just pushing it.”

It warmed you thoroughly when your huffed reply made the half-breed laugh, the sound sleepy and smooth as he finally yielded and wrapped both arms around your form. It felt so good to be held by him, your body made to fit against the hard lines of his own. the sensation only grew deeper when he rolled over to press you into the bed, mouth catching your lips in a deep kiss and hands holding him up on either side of your head. Whatever grumpiness that plagued him upon waking faded away with your tongue stroking over his, breaths mingly and hips pressed against each other in a slow grind. You’d be hard pressed to miss his desire now, especially with him rutting it against your wet heat in those slow, deep presses that made your breath catch in desperation. Christ, you were needy--and he absolutely adored that about you, wanted to indulge every chance he got, even if it meant teasing you a bit first.

You were panting when his mouth slipped to your jaw, a growl in his throat while he kissed a line down to your chest and lingered there for a moment. You practically trembled when one hand tugged up your tank top, those kissable lips latching onto one nipple and making your hips rise at the slow, purposeful suction he gave. Christ, his tongue...he was merciless this morning, absolutely ruthless. The half breed swirled the wet appendage over the sensitive bud in his mouth, making you whimper and fist his hair with both hands. So sensitive in the morning, becoming a writhing mess under his ministrations in a matter of seconds. He let out a satisfied hum, blue eyes looking up at you from under his lashes as he released your breast with a hollow pop, moving onto the next.

You were already drenched by that point, anymore foreplay absolutely not needed, but that wasn’t stopping Vergil. He would willingly draw this out hours if you had it, bringing you to the edge of orgasm over and over again without satisfaction, until you were sobbing with need. And then he would be the opposite other days, literally making you come over and over until you were begging to stop, until the overstimulation was too much. Unfortunately, today offered very little time with all the plans in mind, so he could only get his fun in short intervals. Honestly, you could have taken two of him with how aroused just the morning wanting had made you, and that was plainly obvious when the half-breed tugged your panties down your legs, tossing them to somewhere in your room.

You practically sobbed with need as he plunged his fingers into your sheath, the slide easy and wet as he tested your resistance, finding absolutely none. Your toes curled into the bed sheets, head tilted back as he kissed along your neck and jaw with those fingers working below. Curling inside, searching for any sweet points and making slick, lewd sounds with every thrust. You could only squirm, at his mercy and trembling with a building orgasm in your lower half. God, why were you always so sensitive? He had just barely started and you felt already inches away from coming on his fingers, hips rising to meet him as a desperate moan left your parted lips. No wonder he could overstimulate you so god damn easily--without edging you would just orgasm easily without much work at all.

“Ahhh...ahhh...g-god, please--” You whimpered against his neck, hips rolling against his hand as you squeezed your eyes shut, “Vergil...Vergil I’m so--”

“Already?” The son of Sparda murmured, stilling his fingers and chuckling at that half-choked sound of desperation you made in response, “I thought you were made of sterner stuff than that, doll.”

You weren’t really in the mood to be prideful today, his teasing barely registering with you as the feeling of that orgasm started to dull. It was so very disappointing when his digits left your throbbing insides, a trail of slick following them as proof of your arousal. That might have been a bit embarrassing if you had any shame left, but that wasn’t really the case after everything you had been through with this man. The son of Sparda seemed pleased, icy blue eyes lingering on his fingers before drawing them into his mouth, tasting your essence as he leaned back to gaze over your form with a hint of adoration in their depths. The way Vergil looked at you, lingering on each scar and left over wound from battles past...it made you heart only ache more, body desperate for his affections and warming further as you stared back with a pleading expression of your own.

 Luckily enough for you, Vergil seemed to be far more merciful today, placing both hands on your thighs and pushing them back and apart. You bit your lip, knees up to your chest and held there right where your legs bent with his strong hands. So exposed, spread nicely for him and ready to be taken. The half-breed gave you a look that told you not to move your limbs in the slightest, letting go so he could pull down the thin, cotton dress pants hiding his length from your eyes. You could have moaned when the hard appendage slipped free, precum already beading on the tip smeared away by his thumb and looking so damn perfect for you and you alone. God, he was beautiful everywhere, cock lengthy enough to press deep inside and thick enough to spread you without hurting too much. And with how aroused you were, it would be absolutely painless, your body practically aching to suck him inside and feel each stroke along your inner walls. 

Vergil didn’t seem keen on waiting any longer either, pressing the tip against your folds and sucking in a breath as he stroked over your clit for a few seconds, just savoring the wet warmth. You were trembling, toes curling with anticipation and heart pounding quickly in your chest when he finally pressed it against your throbbing entrance, Vergil gritting his teeth at the way your body molded around his length. A perfect fit, his cock slipping easily inside and buried deep in a matter of seconds. Your eyes rolled back a bit in your skull at the feeling of his tip brushing your cervix, filling you up entirely and leaving not a single inch that wasn’t being touch by him. You had no doubt that he could feel your every breath, every shift of muscle as you fought the urge to rut against him as the desperation grew higher.

“G-god, please…” You whimpered, shuddering when he leaned over your form and pressed both hands to your legs again to press them back. The movement shifted his cock inside, burying it just a bit deeper and making you gulp in a quick breath of air, “F-fuck...fuck…”

“So crass, my doll,” Vergil hissed, voice breathless as he leaned down to nip at your neck again, “You’re absolutely drenched...you must have really worked yourself up this morning.”

That was certainly an understatement. When he slid his cock out of your throbbing sheath it was a wet slide, plunging back in with a wet sound that seemed overly loud in the quiet of your bedroom. A choked whimper left your lips at the pace he began to set, wasting no time in being gentle with you with how obviously you wanted it. Your hands blindly reached for him in the mess of sensations scattering your thoughts, one wrapped around his neck and the other burying itself in his hair as your lips pressed hard together in the next instant. Vergil always kissed you the same way when you made love, like he was starving and you were the first meal he was allowed in so many years. You could only hang on as his cock plunged in and out below, roughly pressing your hips into the bed as each breath mingled desperately between your molding lips and tongues. Desperate, mindless, both seeking pleasure from each other as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

And it was. Vergil felt like home, felt correct in the best way possible. Body to body, legs wrapping around his waist now as he fucked you into the mattress--one hand cupped your warming cheeks, the other bracing himself upwards so he didn’t crush you with his weight. Each soft sound of pleasure that came from his lips was like music, panting gasps or subdued moans that strained with each thrust into your sheath. You loved looking at his face, seeing him come undone with pleasure and lose all composure as he shared his body with you, became vulnerable with you.

You were so close now, his hips grinding against your clit with each thrust. It was quite the sensation, feeling his  cock bumping your cervix every time he buried himself deep inside and feeling so very filled to the brim. The growing orgasm was coming much faster than you thought it would, your body still just as sensitive and absolutely trembling as it pushed for that pleasure like your life depended on it. Christ, how would you be able to work after this? He was so easily making a mess out of you, and something about that was absolutely tantalizing. Not that he was any better--you could already tell he was getting close too, the son of Sparda burying his face against your neck and body tense as he ground himself inside of you with a desperation that was starting to match your own.

“Y/N...fuck…” He hissed, voice low and breathless as he pressed his mouth to your skin, words slightly muffled as he moaned, “You feel so good, I can’t--fuck--”

You couldn’t even form a reply other than a wordless moan of your own, head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm started to crest. It throbbed through your insides, hips jolting upwards as a half sobbed cry of release left your lips and your body clenched around him like a vise. The half-breed grit his teeth, the tightening around his cock sending him to his own peak shortly after. His hips stuttered in their thrusts, a hoarse groan muffled against your skin as he buried himself deep to fill you up with his load. You could have melted at the feeling of him spilling inside, body going limp with satisfaction and toes curling into the mattress as you rode out the storm of pleasant sensations. Warm, thick, and so very deep--making love to him felt so perfect, and getting to have him again and again was more than you ever thought you’d be allowed. Bad memories, pain, suffering...they couldn’t have been further from you both at that moment, quietly coming down from your orgasms in the safety of your bedroom.

You don’t know how much time passed with you there, Vergil’s body pressed to your own but careful not to crush you with his weight. The throb of pleasure was quieting now into a warm glow, limbs limp and body deliciously spent as you let out a soft, contented sigh. An ideal way to spend your day involved staying like this with him for hours, maybe longer, and getting to enjoy each other as much as you wanted. That wasn’t likely today, but it still felt nice to lie there for a few moments, sharing warmth and listening to both heartbeats slow to something far more tame. Your fingers idly traced patterns on his relaxing back muscles, your other hand in his hair and gently stroking the slightly damp locks out of his face. You could feel him melt under your touch, breathing evening out considerably and eyes closing as he savored the comfort of your affections for just a bit longer.

He never wanted to stop feeling them. And neither did you.

You expected him to pull back as he always did, to kiss you on the lips and remark upon how you should probably start getting ready. Instead, you were surprised when he let out a soft breath, tone low and uncharacteristically gentle as he wrapped both arms around your spent form.

“I love you,” He murmured, stroking one hand up into your hair and pressing a tender kiss to your jaw, “Thank you...for loving me, for...choosing me.”

Your breath caught at his words, that familiar pang of emotions squeezing your heart as you recognized the vulnerability and hesitation in his tone. Even after four months, you could feel how each past mistake weighed upon the son of Sparda, making him feel undeserving of you, undeserving of anything. No doubt Nero’s constant reminders weren’t helping with that, nor did the Outsider’s trials all that time ago. You wished that there was more that could be done to ease his pain, but knew that the only way that he could change for the better was to embrace the mistakes and do better in the future. He was, after all, half human.

So you wrapped both arms around his neck, heart beating faster in your chest as you pressed your face to his silvery-white hair and smiled softly, voice absolutely truthful in your reply to the son of Sparda.

“I love you too--and I will always choose you.”

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Vision, Wanda Maximoff & Vision Characters: Vision (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff Additional Tags: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Heavy Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Family Loss, Tragedy, Sibling Loss, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Pietro Maximoff Dies, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, Hurt Wanda Maximoff, Minor Wanda Maximoff/Vision, Pre-Wanda Maximoff/Vision, Protective Vision (Marvel) Summary:

Wanda couldn't, or didn't, want to save herself after losing Pietro. And yet, Vision did anyway. He contemplates why.

... vision being worthy hits differently after wandavision...

once again, warnings of pietro's death and wanda feeling suicidal after it...

Vision felt like he was carrying a frozen, limp, dead body as he flew away from the descending land of Sokovia about to implode onto itself.

Wanda Maximoff seemed… numb, for starters. But, Vision is aware that what she seems to be feeling was something, he probably did not know yet. An emotion powerful enough to render someone catatonic.

He did not know why, but now, he seemed to be feeling… He did not know what this feeling is. It is quite literally his first time feeling it, but, he thinks he’s feeling… sympathy, for Ms. Maximoff.

She appeared to be in a great and terrible amount of pain. And that emotion, as he understood it, was something that was not usually wished onto good people. And, despite Ms. Maximoff having worked with Ultron and Hydra, she seemed to be a good person that simply wished to protect her country and did not want to hurt innocents.

Yes, Vision felt… something, probably sympathy, for Ms. Maximoff… She did not deserve what had happened to her. Vision only wished he had the capability to give her what she needed in this moment.

However, he did not even know what that was. All he knew, for now, was that Wanda Maximoff could not, or maybe, did not want to save herself. But, that did not mean she was not worthy of being alive. And as such, he saved her. That was all he could do.

And yet, something inside him… sparked, making him want to do more…

But for now, he merely did his duty, and helped the young woman down as they had finally arrived onto solid ground.

They were a few yards away from where the rest of the Sokovians were evacuated and Vision wanted to make sure that Ms. Maximoff would be ready to acclimate to being surrounded by the tumult and noise of an evacuation area before he brought her there. And, it would be a good status check on someone that had just gone through an unthinkable loss and tragedy.

Wanda doesn’t- she can’t process it yet. She felt her body lose gravity, and then she felt it get lifted. Felt the wind and humidity from up above the sky.

She also felt the nauseating stench of the blood, ash, and smoke from the ruins of her homeland, or at least all that was left. Emanating to them even despite their high altitude.

She felt things, physical sensations after- … but, she did not even know what she was feeling anymore. She felt everything and nothing. She felt- …

She felt.

They were going down now and Wanda still didn’t think about what she was going to do. She didn’t want to figure it out.

But even then, Vision gently let her stand back on the ground, offering support in case she needed help standing up.

Wanda then, figures out the first thing she wants after what just happened. She wants to be alone.

She pushes Vision away and tells him as such, wiping the grime and tears from her face, “I want to be alone,” she inhales and wraps her arms around herself.

Vision takes a step back, out of respect. But, he’s still unsure how to handle this.

Nevertheless, he voices his concern. “Normally, I would respect your wish, Ms. Maximoff. However, we do not yet know if Ultron had other backup protocols in place in case his plan failed. And, I hope you do not think this as disrespectful, but, you do not seem to be in a fighting state right now, should anything happen.”

“I- …,” Wanda stops.

Not even a second after she was talking about something not about Pietro, she instantly remembers him.

But, she chides herself, how could she not?

How many times has she told Pietro she can protect herself? How many times- … She was with this person, her entire life. Every second she was not with him would be a glaring blaring agonizing absence in her life, a missing piece she knew she’d never get back. A hole, that would just forever be empty.

Reaching her hand out to only catch air.

She almost breaks. But, she doesn’t want to do this with someone else. She tells him off.

“I, can take care of myself,” she mutters, still not looking at him.

“Well, yes, I know that you are quite powerful, Ms. Maximoff. But…, as I understand you humans, grief and loss can irreparably change you. It would be quite understandable, and dare I say, humane to need help. It is not something to be ashamed of.”

“Ha. You do not know what I need. What I need-” … is my brother…

Fuck, she’s shivering again. She wills herself to calm down.

“I need to be alone, Vision.”

“But, if someone comes-” Vision steps closer to ask her to reconsider-

“Then let them come! Let them kill me and get it over and done with. At least-! … At least, I wouldn’t have to live in a world without the only family I had left.”

Vision, has nothing to say.

Wanda sighs, “Just go, Vision. Leave me be,” and waves him off.

Vision, realizes his place. And accepts it.

But, he didn’t know if it was safety protocols, or something else, but something inside of him prompted him to still ask, “At least, allow me to keep watch over you from the edge of the evacuation area, Ms. Maximoff...

I may not know you, your brother, or… the complexity and depth of what it is you are going through right now.

But, your brother gave his life so Mr. Barton and a child could survive. I’d assume he would want the same to happen for you, as well.”

- That’s, when Wanda breaks.

She can't-

She drops to the earth, and lets out the horrible wail that’s been building up inside of her all this time.

Vision, bends down to her, without knowing why he was doing so.

And Wanda, accepts his arms.

Wanda didn’t know what she was doing at this point except scream in anguish, shout her excruciating unbearable agony out onto Vision’s chest.

Despite having done this already and screaming her throat raw, the abyss inside her still goes on, feeling unimaginable and endless.

Vision, didn’t know what he was doing either.

He just could possibly not understand right now, what had possessed a tear to fall from his eye.

He feels himself embrace Wanda before he knew it. And Wanda feels herself grab onto Vis so tight, as if every ounce of pain begged to come out from her entire body. Vision feels Wanda's fingers grip his back so tight that although it didn't physically hurt, it still felt....

...

Humans. Odd. Possessing Grace… Is this- what, it must feel like?

Maybe Vision didn’t need to know, or maybe he didn’t want to know. All he knew right now, was that this person, Wanda Maximoff, was in pain. And right now, if sharing that pain with him, him feeling her pain, helped eased hers... He was willing to sacrifice it, without knowing why.

Humans, odd, possessing grace, anger, chaos, beauty, tumult, fear, pain, and love… he thinks it might just be the heaviest responsibility, and the greatest privilege. To feel what they feel.

Sympathy, empathy, affinity, love… is this- what it feels like?

Vision lets himself close his eyes and lie his head on top of Wanda’s almost protectively, to shield her from the world. And as he hears and feels her, still breaking down within his embrace, he lets the other tears in his eyes fall as well.

Vision, felt.

                             Notes:  

please tell me if anything felt romanticized or disingenuous or just... wrong, about Wanda's suicidal ideation and how she handled her grief... (but, uhm.. it's honestly based on what i've felt personally, my trysts with wanting to be unalive heh.. i'm asking because i've never felt a loss such as what wanda has felt, so... i want to be respectful so please, just tell me if- well as i said, just tell me. this subj matter shouldn't be written haphazardly so i take great care into making sure everything's treated carefully... that's all. i hope it's understood what my pov was on writing this is...)

wanda was stuck to where she had tried to kill ultron's main form was my main impetus on thinking she had given up on life... yes, she could just not have a handle on her powers at that point to be capable of flight. or she was just processing her grief and shell-shocked and not necessarily feeling suicidal...

this is just how i interpreted one could feel after such an unthinkable loss... once again, please don't hesitate to tell me if anything's wrong but... i still kind of hope i managed to evoke emotions with this work as it evoked something in me as i wrote it... thank you.

(also, this might have a next part. i'm open to it. i wanna imagine how the next part of their relationship, coming from this, develops...)