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ghqstwriter · 3 months ago

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Aside from the obnoxious ticking of the clock, and the persistent drumming of Hero’s feet, the room was filled with an uncomfortable silence. The crimestopper sat perched on the end of the twin-sized bed, resting one hand against their cheek and letting their eyes dart around the hotel room. Truth be told, they weren’t exactly sure what to do next.

The villain was a sophisticated person, always seeming to be one step ahead. Their strategic ideas were unmatched by any friend or foe, and whenever they spoke, their words were calculated. Sometimes, the hero would sit back and think about what Villain’s lair might look like. They envisioned grand, tall walls and only the finest of resources. In none of those fantasies - however outlandish they might have been - did Hero imagine this.

The hotel was buried in the middle of nowhere, like a rotting corpse in the woods. On first glance, it was unsuspecting, and a second glance only made it. The wallpaper of the room was torn, and the bedding looked far from new. It wpuld have looked desolate and abandoned, if not for Villain’s few belongings scattered across the floor. Had they really just been living off of dungy hotels this whole time?

A rustling came from the bathroom behind Hero, causing them to turn their head slightly. Villain had been, metaphorically speaking, licking their own wounds in the corner of the bathroom, adamant on doing things alone. Hero couldn’t blame them, considering the root cause of those injuries, it would be hard for anyone to start trusting again, let alone the already closed off Villain.

A few moments later, the rushing sound of water emerged, the hotel tap squeaking and crying as it turned. They were likely finished, by now, and just washing up. Hero felt the awkward atmosphere of the room crush them further, as their suspiscions were confirmed. Villain made their way out of the washroom, hair unkempt and torso wrapped in bandages, stopping the moment they realised Hero was sat, waiting.

“You’re still here,” they uttered, not quite a question, but still spoken in a tone that sounded skeptical. Were they hoping that Hero would be gone by now?

“Any enemy of Supervillain is a useful asset to us, and if we left you alone, we’d risk losing you,” Hero responded, trying a little too hard not to think about the last part of that sentence. If Hero’s team hadn’t shown up with miraculous timing, Villain would be dead. An indescribable look flashed on their enemy’s face. They knew it too.

“I don’t have much information on Supervillain, if that’s what you’re after. Even before— before this, we weren’t close,” Villain started, slumping onto the worn mattress inelegantly. “Not that I’d tell you anything if I did.”

Hero paused before responding, not exactly sure what to say. To state the truth, Hero wasn’t expecting information. Not right away, at least. When they had offered to come back with Villain, a tactical advantage was the last thing on their mind. They had never seen the crimimal like that before, soaked in their own blood acting like a fearful animal backed into a corner. It brought about a terrible feeling in their chest, inexplicable and foreign.

“We’re— I’m not looking for insider information on Supervillain, not yet. I figured at the very least, you’d need time to—“ Hero began, before being interrupted by Villain’s blunt remark.

“Then you should go,” they expressed, with not even the decency to look them in the eye. The hero was dumbfounded, though they likely should have expected this type of response from the lawbreaker.

“You were just betrayed by quite possibly the most powerful and vile monster in the country, who is probably trying to hunt you down right this second, the same villain that wants you dead more than I’ve seen them want anything before, and you turn down the only person left in this world who would stick their neck out for you because— because you think you’re better off alone. This is serious, Villain, I’m trying to help you!”

Hero was sounding incredulous now, and they hated how evident the sheer worry in their tone was. Their tone was trembling like a whirlwind, and the hero was well aware that if the conversation escalated any further, they might lose it. Villain, however, seemed almost unaffected. As though Hero wasn’t acting more emotional and utterly distressed than they’d ever been in years. Their tone remained level, and their arms kept still, tucked away at their side.

“So, what’s your plan then?” Villain spoke in an unamused tone, their voice laced with sarcasm as though it was a venom that could deter Hero. “Just stick around ‘til the end of time? Or were you stupid enough to believe that maybe if you kept me safe for, say, a week, that the most powerful villain in the fucking country would turn around and say ‘oh golly I guess we lost them, time to give up’?”

“What are you saying? I don’t—“

“The point is, if you’re not here for information, you might as well not be here at all. There is nothing, and I truly mean nothing, you can do to help me. The door is there, you know how to use it.”

Villain had always been somewhat curt, but this felt ridiculous. It was as though every wall that Hero had tried to bring down in their typically-fruitless attempts at connecting with the villain, had all of a sudden risen right back up. That same bizarre feeling had once again began to well up in Hero’s throat, and nothing in their brain could make sense of it. The sensation almost felt akin to fear, but instead of the usual bone-chilling cold that terror brought upon the hero, this was fiery, and intense.

“No, you’re mistaken. I’m not leaving you, not until I’ve finished what I came here to do,” Hero proclaimed, finding that the passion bubbling in their chest had given them more courage to speak. In response, Villain’s face flushed with confusion.

“What did you come here to do?” Their voice was quieter now, and if it was slightly less gruff, Hero would have said it was timid.

“I’m here because when I found you, you were on the brink of death and terrified out of your mind. Villain, you were practically delirious from blood loss. And then, I take you ‘home’ and it turns out you’re living in some grimy, probably roach-infested dumb. I never thought I’d care if you were gone, but bloody hell, you were clinging to me like a child. I came here to make sure you were okay, you asshole, and I’m not leaving your side until I’m sure you’re fine. If that takes days, weeks, months, I don’t care. I’ll be here.”

The villain could only stare back, wordless. It was clear that every survival instinct in their body wanted to bite back, to say some cutting remark and kick the hero out. Villain couldn’t trust anyone, especially after what had happened. But, something deeper within them kept them from speaking. Something much more pure that urged them to accept the offer, something in them that valued Hero over every pessimistic bone in their body. There was a brief period of silence before either spoke again, but the awkwardness had died down ever so slightly.

“Fine, but I don’t want to hear a single smug comment from you, or you’re sleeping outside in the dirt,” Villain grumbled, barely above a whisper, but the two were close enough now that it was audible enough. Hero couldn’t fight back a smile in return.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#can you tell i was listening to the front bottoms when i wrote this #i was gonna make this more angsty but lets be fr #if this ended in any other way villain would be dead dead lmao #hero pov #hero x villain #villain x hero #writeblr #writing #writing snippet #heroes and villains #cw swearing

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btsmosphere · 11 months ago

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Supercharged | JJK

Epilogue: Sweet Taste

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: How it all boiled down.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 1k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: mentioned death, violence, weapons

a/n: and with this, we've reached the end of supercharged!! that is surreal to me��here's a reminder to those of you who may have already reblogged the masterlist to keep on your blog for reference (I'm honoured!), you may want to reblog it again now it's completed so all the links are there! since reblogged posts aren't updated on this wonderful site lol🤡 I also want to give a sincere thank you to everyone who had read, especially those who left even a single comment, reblog, tag or ask. this story was a lot of work but also a lot of fun and I'm so happy now I finally shared it! to hear anyone enjoyed it makes it all worth it😊you guys are the absolute best! I hope you enjoyed the ride, though there's still the epilogue to go👀 let me know what your favourite moment of this series has been!💜💜

“More information has emerged after celebrated hero, Bolt, was found murdered in his home yesterday. Another beloved hero, Monsoon, also fell in the same battle.

“The anonymous attackers, who many theorists have already connected with the lair attacked by a monster earlier the same day, have sent several records to our studio, apparently taken from Bolt’s home. They have… requested that we display these on air.”

The screen cut away from the reporter’s face to a series of photographs. Weapons laid out, one by one, labelled in Namjoon’s handwriting with the locations they were stolen from, and the purpose each one served.

Next, a map with several red crosses marked on it; the places Bolt had attacked, and several more he planned to. Your home was one of them.

There were other files on the drive Jin had mailed to them. Detailing Bolt’s plans, his building of weapons and allowing them to be used to justify his ‘confiscation’. Jin had been careful not to record too much, but it painted a grim picture nonetheless. Had Bolt been preparing to rule the city?

You knew there would be people out there who would never shake their star-studded image of Bolt. But there would be others ready to see him for the monster he was. All that mattered was that you had all shaken up the grip he held over this city.

The last clip that jumped on screen was from only the night before. Of course, Bolt had cameras. And, in the end, it had turned out to be most useful to you.

“Flush out the rats and they’ll have nowhere left to run.”

The dark, fuzzy image shifted into static. The next voice was your own.

“You did this to me.”

Another cut.

“You were nothing before I gave them to you…”

It faded to black again. Good. It was past time for the people to start questioning the man they had idolised for too long. The man who would have thrown their lives away, too, the moment they happened to be in his way.

The reporter’s face returned, looking grave.

“This has left citizens wondering: who was Bolt really? Was he truly as heroic as he seemed?

“But it remains to be seen how we can stay safe in the wake of his demise.

“Next up, we report from the scene of a spate of attacks in the early hours since the hero’s death was announced. And stay tuned to hear from the families who say their loved ones died needlessly when working for Bolt-”

The screen flashed off and you turned to find Hope lowering the remote, hand on hip.

“Good to know the tv still works!” he beamed.

Snorting, you followed him over to the kitchen. The table had been set upright again. All in all, the scene was only partially being lit by the hole in the roof, most of which Jimin had already pieced back together.

An intimidating amount of dust and debris remained to be cleared, but you were sure Yoongi would just hide it by making the space look extra bright and fresh until someone could be bothered to pick up a vacuum cleaner (which may well be buried itself).

Oh yes – Yoongi. You were sure he would be playing his usual lighting tricks again… once he was strong enough. After seeing to Bolt’s fate, he was the first place you had all run to. Hobi and V had already been at his side. You remembered the crushing dread in your chest at seeing their faces, the tightness with which you squeezed Jungkook’s hand.

All you had to do to quell the memory of that feeling was cast your eyes over your white-haired friend. He sat at the table, sagging a little wearily onto his elbows, but grinning begrudgingly up at a giggling Jin and Jimin.

He was alright.

Jungkook sat across from the injured Yoongi, staring just as intently. You knew the protective fire that burned in him for his team, because the same one lived in you. And you had walked through that fire enough times, finally ending up on the right side of it.

Sliding into the seat beside him, you wordlessly put your hand on his back. Let it drift to circle his waist.

Jungkook’s fingers loosened their death grip on his mug, gaze shifting to you. You felt his sigh more than heard it, his back relaxing where you held it. Together you shared a smile.

Although perhaps it wasn’t quite as private as you first thought, because a second later Jin was thumping another mug loudly onto the tabletop. Jumping, you sheepishly turned away from Jungkook and accepted the drink Jin pushed towards you.

“Right!” The eldest clapped his hands to gather attention now that you were all here. “Y/N and I have made some good progress checking inventory. The ceiling seems to be… looking up!” (you all groaned as he erupted into his squeaky laugh) “We’ll be settled back in in no time – with no one to bother us.”

“Quite,” Namjoon agreed. For perhaps the first time, when he turned to face you, you were certain you read pride there. “With Bolt and Monsoon out of the picture, we’ll let Pheonix take their place.”

“So, nothing much to worry about at all!” Jimin chimed in, to a round of chuckles. Even Namjoon gave him an indulgent smile.

A grin of your own on your face, you sipped your drink, welcoming its flavour which nestled beside the sweet taste of revenge curled in your gut. Even with a gap letting fresh air in through the roof, you felt warm all over. Mostly from the heat of the arm pressed against yours.

You couldn’t imagine keeping your distance from Jungkook ever again. Having been victim of his fierce fight so many times, you knew you could always rely on it now he stood by your side.

Thank you for coming with me on this journey💜What was your favourite moment?

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taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @written-in-flowers @taegularities @dvalities

@parapiop7 @taiwan0618 @11thenightwemet11 @junniesoleilkth @doctorquack

@oddinary4bts @svnbangtansworld @ktownshizzle @minisugakoobies @jksusawife

@kokoandkookie @veemegatron @kookxin @seokout @jkayy

@peaaachpit @stxrrielle @welcometomyworld13 @ssexsellls @ramicherie

@jk5t4r @purplebeebs @nanjeonlangakook @wifflepuff1344 @ot7stansthings

@thesmeraldogirl @fr0ggieth1nk

#jungkook x reader #jungkook series #jungkook mafia au #jungkook superhero au #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x you #jeongguk imagine #jungkook imagine #jeongguk angst #jeongguk fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #bts mafia au #bts supernatural au

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anemos-orca · 1 year ago

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Better than Almond Tofu

Xiao x GN!Reader Smut, MDNI!

CW: blowjob (Reader giving), established relationship, semi-public (?), kissing (hehe :3), shy Xiao, swallowing, comfort/aftercare

NSFW under the cut

series tag: #●BTAT

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Working as the new chef at Wangshu Inn had put a lot of stress on you. After Smiley retired, it was up to you (his apprentice) to maintain the culinary reputation of Liyues favorite Inn.

No pressure.

However, despite the weight of high expectations, you never woke up feeling stressed or overwhelmed (well, there would always be off days, but those were off days)- partially because you loved your job, and partially because your long time crush, and now boyfriend, considered the Inn as his "lair." Which, speaking of- you had tried to suggest terms other than "lair" because it sounded very villainous, but Xiao had no intention of changing his vocabulary. You would sigh and narrow your eyes, but despite his stubborn continued use of the deviously connotated word and how it made you shiver at first, you eventually came around, finding the title rather endearing and ending up using it yourself.

♡

It had been a long, busy day, and now that the sun was set, the workers of Wangshu Inn all collectively sighed in relief, retreating to their respective abodes for a good nights rest. Saturdays were always busy.

"Im heading up to Xiao, g'night Ms. Goldett!" You said to the boss of the Inn with a friendly wave, grabbing the plate of Almond Tofu you had made for Xiao. By now, it was your nightly routine- finish cleaning, make Xiaos meal, say goodnight to the boss, and head up to his lair before bed (though, more often than not, you fell asleep laying on Xiaos lap, insisting that it was better than your cold, lonely bed).

The boss waved right back at you as she shoved the last of her belongings into her bag, preparing to retire for the night herself.

Making your way up the stairs with two hands on the plate of steaming food (archons forbid you drop it like that one time), a smile began to tug at the corners of your lips just as it did every other night. You couldnt help it, not with the way Xiao smiled so softly and graced you with little kisses, followed by a barrage of "thank you"s as though he were indebted to you and your cooking, even after telling him each night that you cooked for him because you loved him.

"Xiao?" You softly peeped, not wanting to startle him as you stepped up onto the balcony.

The Yaksha was leaning against the railing and staring out at the expanse of Liyue, only peering over his shoulder once you called his name, "Hm? Oh, (y/n), its you," he gave a gentle smile and left the railing to meet you half way, his hands rising from his sides to hold the plate over your own, making you blush. You noticed how his gloves were taken off, your heart fluttering as you realized that he remembered how much you loved it the last time he took them off.

You would think his body cold and calloused, but it was quite the contrary- his touch was as gentle as that of a tiny canary, his warmth as soothing as a fond childhood memory, and his skin silkier than even the finest silks of Teyvat. He was so soft, sweet, tender- it was intoxicating and you were never able to get enough, even if you were to spend every waking moment of the day with him.

He took the plate of tofu with a "thank you" and set it aside, focusing his attention on you, "You look so sleepy. Are you feeling alright?" He asked, his voice a soft coo.

You nodded, bringing your hands up to hold his cheeks, "Mhm. Just a long day, but i dont mind. Come here," you purred, leaning in and pressing your lips on his. You thought he would only reciprocate like he usually did- pressing his lips against yours before pulling away to cover his blushing face- but tonight was different. He slid his hands onto your waist and pulled you closer, kissing you back with a passion you didnt know he had in him yet. Gently pulling away, he gazed into your eyes, an intense blush creeping over both of your faces.

Your hands fell from his cheeks to his shoulders and your words seemed to catch in your throat from the pounding of your heart in your chest. Xiao brought one hand up to caress the soft skin of your cheek, his thumb rubbing back and forth as he studied your eyes, "Was... was that okay?" He asked, his voice gentle and soothing, pulling you out of your racing thoughts.

You smied and nodded leaning into the comforting touch of his warm hand on your face, "Can I have another?"

Xiaos eyes widened a bit, not having expected you to ask for more- though it was a welcome surprise. He leaned in and kissed you again, this time deeper than before. His tongue swiped against your lips and you parted your mouth, inviting him deeper. Your tongues pushed against one another in a messy kiss, swapping saliva as his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair. You instinctively rested your body against his, making his breath hitch in his throat with a quiet gasp.

It continued like this for several minutes- you were lost in his embrace, the sweetness of his mouth, the warmth of his body pressing against yours. Time melted away and all you could think about was the way his tongue felt inside your mouth, and the more he kissed you, the more you wanted.

You couldnt help but quietly moan into his lips as the hand that was once gripping your waist moved to the dip in your lower back just above the hem of your pants, pulling you against him. Xiao didnt seem to realize, but by pulling you that much closer, you could now feel the tightness that was forming in his pants, causing your once steady breathing and quiet moans to stutter. That, Xiao did notice. He gently broke the kiss, lightly panting, "A-are you okay?" He asked, concern lacing his voice.

You licked your lips and nodded, "Hm? Why wouldnt i be? I was just a little... surprised, is all," you explained, your gaze softening and a reassuring smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Xiao seemed a bit confused, his brows slightly pushing together in thought, "Surprised..?"

It suddenly hit you that Xiao hadnt exactly noticed the tent in his pants. You leaned in, "You... have an erection, Xiao," you explained, your voice soft and lightly laced with desire.

Xiaos eyes instantly widened and his entire face turned red as he froze up, glancing down to where he had pulled you closer as if to make sure he wasnt hearing things. When his gaze rose back to you, you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was mortified, so before he could spew out a tsunami of apologies and disappear, you tightened your grip on his shoulders to ground him, "Xiao, its nothing to be embarrassed about, please dont go!" You plead, earning an apologetic expression from him.

"B-but-"

"Please...?" You said, cutting him off.

"I-it... wont go away on its own, i have to go s-so i can take ca-

"Let me do it for you," you offered, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes, "I-i... i want to help you... please, dont go."

Xiao gulped hard, thinking for a moment. He had never done such a thing before (which was to be expected considering his lack of experence with, well, anything and everything to do with humans), having always taken care of it himself, but he knew for a while now that this would have eventually come up. He knew that when humans got in relationships they indulged in frivolous, physical romantics, but he never understood any of it- until he met you. The way your fingers moved so grasciously over his each time you held hands, the way the sweet taste of your lips lingered on his after each little kiss, the way he couldnt help but stare a moment longer than he should whenever you would wear revealing or form-fitting clothing- it all made him start to catch himself thinking shameful, perverted things about you and your body. Thats when he understood human romantics- thats when he started looking forward to the day he got to experience it with you.

With a shakey breath, Xiao nodded, agreeing to let you help him, "J-just... be careful, a-and dont push yourself..."

Your eyes lit up with excitement and you couldnt help but press an adorable little kiss to his bright red face as a genuine smile spread across yours, "Ill be gentle, i promise."

If you had a tail like General Gorou, it would be wagging like crazy right now.

You had Xiao sit in one of the two chairs you brought up to his lair quite some time ago before carefully dropping to your knees before him. You looked up into his gaze with those pretty doe-eyes of yours, making sure he was comfortable and okay as your hands slid up his clothed thighs. He brought one arm up to his face, covering his mouth with the back of his hand to try and stifle the little whimper that fell from his lips as your thumbs caressed his inner thighs. He watched as your fingers wrapped around the hem of his pants and gently tugged them down, guiding the restrictive fabric off his bulge. Xiao gave a strained groan as his erection sprung free- if it was possible for his face to turn any redder, it would have.

Your mouth instantly watered at the sight of his member and how hard it was just for you, forcing you to swallow down the saliva pooling in your mouth. His erotic scent filled your nose as you squeezed his thighs and leaned forward to kiss the precum drooling from his tip, your eyes never leaving his. You wanted so badly to tell him how cute his whimpers and gasps were, how you wanted him to not hold his voice back, but you kept it to yourself, not wanting to make him self conscious. You pressed your lips against the base of his cock, leaving a trail of heated kisses along the entire length before wrapping your lips around his leaking tip and circling your tongue around it. You watched with satisfaction as Xiaos eyes rolled back into his head and his brows furrowed together in pleasure, a full-blown moan rolling from his throat. His hand found its way to the back of your head, his fingers tangling into your hair as you began bobbing your head over his cock, taking the time to ensure that every inch was given the special attention it deserved.

"Ngh~... (y/n)..." Xiao breathlessly said between whimpers and moans, his eyes meeting yours once again as you managed to deepthroat his entire length, if only for a moment. Your thumbs massaged circles into his inner thighs and you moaned onto his cock at the taste of his delicious precum coating your mouth, a tiny tear pricking in the corner or your eye as you gag around his length.

"F-feels so... a-ah~ good..." Xiao whimpered, his grip on your head tightening. You felt his cock begin to twitch in your mouth and his hips slightly buck up into you as he drew closer to climax. Lewd, wet sounds of you sucking him off filled the air and you purposefully moaned more to send vibrations through his throbbing length as his breathing evolved into desperate panting and moaning.

"(y/n)... (y/n), i-im," he said before being interrupted by his own embarrassingly loud moan, "im gonna- haahh- cum, im gonna cum, l-let go before it gos in your m-mou-"

Before Xiao could even finish his sentence, you sucked harder and faster, running your tongue along the sensitive underside of his cock before deepthroating him one last time. With a sharp cry of your name, he pushed your head down further and released his hot seed deep inside your throat. You continued sucking and running your tongue over what you could reach to milk him of every last drop he had. He gasped hard, fully covering his mouth with his hand and squeezing his eyes shut as he hunched forwards from the intense waves of pure ecstacy, his hand clenching a fistful of your hair. You bobbed your head over his throbbing length a few more times to help him ride out his climax before pulling back and swallowing. Drool was smeared over your lips and chin and a little teartrack shone on your cheek, but the only thing Xiao saw was the happy, satisfied smile on your lips as you fixed his pants back around his waist and gazed up at him.

"(y/n)..." He said under his breath, still feeling aftershocks of pleasure.

"Did you enjoy it?" You asked with a lustful twinge in your voice, wiping your face clean with the sleeve of your shirt.

Xiao weakly nodded, still catching his breath and blushing hard, "Y-you... didnt have to... swallow it..." He murmured, stammering and tripping over his own words.

"Why wouldnt i?" You asked, fixing your hair.

"I-it... it cant taste good, y-you shouldve spit it ou-" Xiao began, only to be cut off by your finger on his lips to shush him.

You got off your knees and moved to straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck, "I liked it. It tasted good, like you," you quietly explained, feeling his arms hug around your waist, "You know, from now on, i-if you... want to do it again... id be more than happy to."

"... I-i... wouldnt mind that..." Xiao admits, nuzzling his cheek into your hair as he holds you close.

"I love you, Xiao."

"I love you too, (y/n). Always."

There was a brief moment of silence as the two of you basked in one anothers embrace. Had you been cats, your purring would be so loud that you wouldnt be able to hear even the loudest of thunder claps.

"(y/n)?"

"Hm? Something wrong?"

"No, no, i was just thinking, uhm... if you wouldnt mind, id like to help you next time, too."

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a/n: i hope it was enjoyable :) apologies for how long it is, i got a bit carried away! Should i try and keep these shorter in the future? idk what you all prefer ~w~

a/n²: rip that almond tofu its cold as hell now qwq

#genshin fanfic #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #xiao fanfic #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #xiao #adeptus xiao #xiao genshin impact #xiao smut #xiao x y/n #xiao x reader smut #●BTAT

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save-the-villainous-cat · 1 year ago

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The hero couldn’t believe their own exhaustion. Apparently, their limbs didn’t want to work and neither did their brain. Even though they had sort of expected this, there was enough energy left to recognise and frown at their nemesis.

“You’re here to kidnap me?” the hero asked. They looked down at the saved city, at the aftermath of the chaos.

Some streets and buildings were scathed but all together, the hero would’ve called this a good job with little casualties. They leaned back and let out a long overdue breath.

“Presumably.” The hero turned their head to glance at their nemesis. Every muscle hurt. Hell, muscles the hero didn’t even know they had hurt.

“Two months. I thought you were dead,” they said eventually and the words were heavy on their tongue. Sadly, they didn’t even have the energy left to be mad at their nemesis.

“I’m…” The villain stared at the ground. They still looked the same. Still the same scary villain that would break ankles and wrists to get what they want. And the hero supposed they were still the same pathetic hero that followed them around like a dog, trying to convince them to use their powers for the good. Even in death.

“You have to carry me if you want to kidnap me. I can’t really move.”

“Okay.” The villain approached them and picked them up immediately without any struggles. All the hero could do was whimper when the villain touched their sore muscles. The hero felt a little stupid in the villain’s arms but they didn’t really have a choice either when the villain walked towards their car.

“Where were you?” the hero asked quietly. Some questions they only dared to whisper.

“I was injured,” the villain explained.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me? What happened!?” Suddenly they panicked. The villain had been injured? Had licked their wounds in their lair alone? The hero wanted to be mad but above all, they were concerned.

“Yeah, I needed a new kidney and everything.”

“What?!” The hero’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“So you disappeared for two months instead?” the hero asked. By now, their voice was hoarse and their head unforgivingly heavy.

“…yeah.”

“Listen, I could’ve donated, I could’ve—”

“Do you think it’s smart for the two most powerful beings in the city to recover from surgery at the same time?” the villain asked. The hero hated that, they hated when they used logic against them. It didn’t change that they were pissed, in fact, it only added fuel to the fire.

“You could have at least told me.”

“So you’d worry and neglect your duties?” The villain shook their head. “I love this city. I want what’s best for it and while I was gone, you were the only one left who actually cared for it.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that? A fucking asshole,” the hero said. They were overwhelmed and confused, numb and aggressive. They hadn’t seen the villain in two months and now they were back with a stranger’s kidney inside them and their strong arms around the hero.

Had they made a mistake? Did the hero feel closer to them than they actually were?

“Why are you hurt?” The hero closed their eyes and let out another long breath.

“I fought some machine. The blades were quick and the bullets even quicker so I had to be faster than that and now I am just…tired.” They leaned their head against the villain’s chest.

“No, I meant my recovery. You’re hurt because I left.”

“I’m mad that you didn’t tell me.”

“You’re disappointed that I didn’t ask you to donate your kidney,” the villain said. The hero swallowed. “Is there something more intimate than keeping your nemesis alive that way? You’re mad you got robbed of that.”

“Ugh you’re so full of shit.” And yet, the hero’s face was burning.

Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe they wanted a connection to the villain that was deeper than “work.”

Whatever.

“I didn’t know you’d be this upset.” Either the hero imagined it or it was true; the villain pulled them closer.

“I am not…I tried reaching out but you were nowhere. Do you know how frustrating that was? As if you got killed and thrown into a ditch. I could barely concentrate on anything.”

“I didn’t know that. Maybe I mean more to you than I thought,” the villain said and the hero couldn’t believe how dense their villain could be. As structured and intelligent as they were, their social skills were an abnormality the hero usually knew how to handle.

But now, in their arms, they were grateful.

“Of course you do, dumbass.” The hero met their eyes and they felt at peace. Completely. Utterly.

How could they waste their life like this? Yearning without making a move? Never daring, always tip-toeing. To the point where they wished they had given them their kidney.

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” The villain didn’t joke. They didn’t wink. They rarely did any of that.

“Kidnap me faster, will you?”

“If you insist.”

Back at the lair, the villain allowed them to touch the fresh scar and the hero did. Over and over and over again.

#show me your teeth teeth teeth teeth #sry I love torturing my heroes #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

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surplus-of-sarcasm · 3 months ago

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Heal

This is a prompt fill for this amazing prompt written by @f1sh-bone . I am literally so sorry I procrastinated so hard on this, I hope you guys like it, though!

TW: Blood, short torture scene, knives, restraints, near-death experience, swearing (just one word worse than my usual)

Red. A copious amount of it spurting violently from Healer's mouth as he coughed it up, snaking down from a wound across his abdomen, dying his white shirt a deep crimson. The muscles in his legs were practically shaking with exhaustion, his knees desperate to buckle.

He cursed his own knowledge because it couldn’t really save him now, only serving to show him the sheer amount of trouble he was in. Healer’s energy was rapidly getting depleted as he took slow, painful steps towards nowhere in particular, mind hazy and exhausted, a pounding headache chipping away at his skull. It hurt to move, hurt to breathe. If no one came for him now, he was done for.

Just before the precariously thin threads of his consciousness threatened to tear, he caught someone with a dark hood stalking towards him in the corner of his eye. Healer’s face fell, his heart roaring even more vigorously in his ears.

Villain. The contract killer. The menace that terrorised the city and made quick work of anyone that dared to stand in his way.

The best way that this would end was the villain putting him out of misery. He’d definitely die, that’s for sure, but it was up to the criminal if it would be quick and merciful or a slow world of excruciating pain. Another way to get back at the hero agency and brag about how their healer begged for mercy as his last dying wish, just with the haunted look in his eyes, speaking more than a thousand words.

The villain’s eyes were a cold grey, gaze sharp as steel as he stared straight through the healer like he was made of paper, pulling his hood off. “You probably can’t walk, can you?”

At the medic’s complete silence, Villain let out an annoyed huff, throwing his hood back on and pulling him up into his arms. Even if he was strong, the nearly passed out healer in his arms was practically dead weight as he rushed him to a hospital he knew was nearby.

Being a villain, walking into that hospital had only elicited reactions of horror and a couple screams. A frustrated snarl escaped his throat. “He’s practically dying. There’s no time for this shit,” he bit out tersely as someone finally had the common sense to pull the now unconscious Healer from his arms and rush him to the emergency room.

The villain wasted no time in sprinting out the door, never looking back. He wasn’t used to this, saving a life instead of ending it. His fight wasn’t with the medic anyway, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking of his choice as he made his way to his lair. Had he, in one moment of uncharacteristic sympathy, grown soft?

Before he had even managed to get home, his train of thoughts had been cut short by careless footsteps, and the villain couldn’t help but smirk. Most people who were stupid enough to make it this glaringly obvious they were trying to sneak up on him never fared well. With an ease born of practice, the villain whirled around and grabbed his assailant’s wrist, trying to twist it painfully, only for him to break out of his grip in an instant. From the brightly-coloured spandex, he could easily tell he was fighting one of the hero agency’s brats, albeit one he’d never seen before.

Still, the villain wasted no time in ruminating, aiming a rough kick to the hero's shins that sent him stumbling back, but still wasn't enough to knock him down completely.

He still wasn't quite fazed, pulling his body into a fighting stance, aiming a fist that the villain easily blocked, but all that punch was meant to do was act as a distraction as the hero stabbed a needle in the villain's neck, smiling wickedly.

“Goddamn it,” he slurred before slipping into unconsciousness.

When his eyes finally opened, he found himself in a dimly lit room, his arms pulled taut by chains shackled to each wrist and his shirt and cloak nowhere to be found, his mask also having been ripped off his face.

Cold air hit his bare chest as the door opened, slow, lazy footsteps ringing in his ears. It was the hero he’d just fought, his lips curled upwards into an awfully easy smile as he slowly pulled off his domino mask. “How does it feel being the high and mighty Villain, trussed up like an animal by a rookie-level hero?”

The hero’s voice was like a blade; sharp, smooth, and awfully cold. Still, the villain wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of showing him any fear. “Yeah and? I don’t even know who the hell you are,” he drawled lazily.

The hero laughed. Harsh and raspy. “Well, you’re going to soon enough, hotshot.” He pulls a knife out of his belt, twirling it skillfully in his hand and slowly making his way towards the villain.

He pressed the weapon’s icy edge to the villain’s abdomen, and on instinct, he tried to pull his body back, but it didn’t matter, with shackles around his ankles anyway, only serving to rattle his chains. The hero pressed deeper, wedging the knife through the skin, and tearing deeper into the villain’s muscles, slow and methodical and excruciating. The villain bit down hard on his lips, drawing blood, trying as hard as he could to muffle his screaming as the hero’s knife left ripped, angry flesh and viscous crimson, so much of it that it dripped down to the villain’s shredded pants and left stains on the floor. It felt something akin to being mauled by a ravenous predator, mercilessly sharp teeth being dragged all across him.

. . .

When Healer woke up, there didn't seem to be much red anymore. Instead his vision mostly caught sterile white, like the fluorescent lights above and the mattress below him and a more lacklustre version of seafoam green, probably the least depressing colour hospitals ever deigned to use.

A doctor walked in, smiling at him being up.

“How did I get here?” the healer cut in before the woman's lips could even utter whatever pleasantry she was about to say.

The doctor shifts her weight onto one leg, tucking one strand of hair behind her ears. “Villain brought you here. He left right after, so I have no idea why he’d just deliver a random civilian to a hospital.”

So they didn’t know he worked for the agency. Good. But more importantly, it seemed the villain saving his life hadn’t been some sort of hallucinatory fever dream. “How long have I been out?”

At the shift in the subject, the doctor’s shoulders relaxed. It was like she’d been under the impression that the villain, at the mention of his name, would materialise in front of them like some sort of cryptid. “You’ve been out for a day. The trauma was mostly to your muscles, but the weapon got through to your stomach with some internal bleeding.”

He nodded curtly at her, even if he could already guess exactly what had happened to him. He’d probably have to stay in here for at least a week, but actual recovery would take a few months. Not enough for him to stop being useful, though.

When he’d finally been discharged, the first thing he’d wanted to do was look for the villain. Find out what his motives were. But it was like Villain had simply vanished off the face of the Earth. No trace of him whatsoever on the streets or any of the missions Healer was needed on. When he’d been questioned about how he’d gotten through that injury, mentioning the criminal as his rescuer had been laughed off as a hallucination. There wasn't even any news of an arrest, as though he’d never even existed. Healer had assumed the villain was either dead or in hiding.

It was only a year later that he’d learned that neither of those assumptions was true.

Some inmate had nearly brushed shoulders with death, and the agency needed him alive for what he was told was extremely useful information. He'd previously assumed either the inmate had an illness of some kind or had been brought in after a fight.

But the slow, deliberate cuts had said otherwise. Blunt tool, designed to maximise pain while keeping the unfortunate victim alive for as long as possible. Old wounds, some yellowing and infected, littered his body.

And the fear written all over his bloodstained face was all the healer could see in those unmistakable stormy grey eyes, once proud and cold and now glassy and red-rimmed.

Villain.

“How long have you been here?” he asked slowly, taking a few steps back in trepidation. It didn't feel right not being even a little afraid of the villain, even though rationality dictated otherwise.

“A-a year,” he choked out, eyes glued to the floor, “just - please whatever you're here to do, please do it quickly, I c-can't. . .”

And his breathing hitched, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Sure, Healer knew that even something as honorable as the agency could have a few shady practices here and there, but officials accepting bribes was a far stretch from trussing the agency’s enemies up like animals and beating them to a bloody pulp.

“I'm not going to hurt you, Villain. I'm going to get you out of here.”

The villain simply gave him a sad, crumpled smile, tears now streaming down his face unabashed, like he didn't quite believe him.

No matter, he unlocked the chains, wincing at the raw cuts on his wrists and ankles, and he lifted him up into his arms. “I'm gonna need you to play dead for me. That's how I'm getting you out. Go completely slack, like deadweight, and don't make a single sound, got it?” he said curtly.

“Yes, sir,” the criminal barely whispered, and the fact that it wasn't sarcastic made the healer's stomach twist into knots.

“He's dead, no pulse,” he explained to one of the heroes, pressing two fingers to the villain’s radial.

“Shame. His information would've been invaluable. Get rid of it,” the heroine said offhandedly, gesturing to the figure in Healer’s arms.

Resisting the urge to cuss her out, he nodded and carefully made his way to an exit he knew no cameras could find.

Sometimes, the best thing about being a healer is how much you get overlooked and underestimated.

He set the villain's form lying down across the backseat of his car, trying his best to steady his own frazzled nerves.

“Just. . .try to relax, you're going to be fine,” he said, trying to be soothing, something he wasn't particularly familiar with,contrary to popular belief, partially to the villain and partially to himself, starting the ignition and driving off.

“I- I know you saved me, by the way.”

“A-and if I hadn't?” he stuttered, seemingly terrified.

“I don't think - I don't think I'd be okay with what they did to you.” He knew it was ambiguous, he knew it wasn't exactly what the villain wanted to hear, but he wondered if it was worse for him to say something the other man might not believe than do this.

The healer gave a quick glance back to notice that even with all his anxiety, sheer exhaustion had lulled the villain to sleep, which he thought was great. Poor bastard needed any rest he could get.

It is much easier to believe everything is either black or white. Heroes live happily ever after and monsters die in the cages that were fashioned for them. But does it ever keep you up at night, that heroes can be monsters and monsters can be something more? All it takes is just one action.

Tagging for this fic: @jumpywhumpywriter

Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @adamswrongchild @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @m3rakii @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal @kaiwewi @those-damn-snippets @genuinelythioehat-is-whump @ghostofnorth @dragonmine-244 @detectivepetrichor @orangeduckweed @red-sigma-vampire-boss6969 @alexii117 @prophecies-bestowed-upon-ye @alphabet-egg

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#hero x villain #healer #villain #my writing #whump #creative fiction #tw angst #tw knives #tw blood #tw torture #tw restraints #tw me not editing because I slept for two hours #female writers #writers on tumblr

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jumpywhumpywriter · 1 month ago

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Traitors & Lovers (Hero & Villain) part 1

Warnings: kidnapping, sad topics of heartbreak & betrayal

@celestial-cosmica made a story request! Here's what I was asked: I don't know if you take requests but if you do, can you write a story where, the hero (M) nursing a tortured villain (F) whumpee to health after they got tortured for the hero's sake??

Villain was walking her usual path through the alleys she knew well, heading back to her lair under the cover of night. But it was quiet nights like these when her mind was able to wander that the memories came to haunt her. And almost all of them involved Hero, to her frustration.

She'd thought they really had something good going when they were dating. She'd loved him deeply, had fallen for every trick. She'd trusted Hero. And Hero had stabbed her in the back. Villain had been betrayed before -- she wasn't new to it -- and so she was wary and cautious when they first started their relationship... but she naively thought Hero would be different. That maybe, just maybe, Villain had found one person in the world who accepted her and loved her back. Who wouldn't abandon her. Who would care.

But ohhhh how wrong she had been. Hero had stolen her heart and shattered it after two whole years of love and affection in dating.

Villain had found out Hero's ulterior motives on her own. It started when her criminal plans were being foiled more often, despite how carefully she thought them through. It had been uncharacteristic, considering how Villain was one of the most untouchable villains in the city. She was smart, and dangerous.

But then Villain's accomplices began steadily being caught by other heroes and sent to prison. And after Supervillain had been taken down, Villain knew something was amiss. So she'd started to wonder, though it was unbearable to think about, if Hero was somehow using her to track down other villains. So she'd done some digging, rifling through Hero's phone one night when he was asleep in bed next to her and checking every message she could find for anything suspicious.

And the truth had hit her like a truck, broken her in ways she couldn't explain. It had shattered her heart to learn that Hero had been going behind her back to feed the information she gave him to the hero Agency. All of the innocently-worded questions Hero had asked Villain made sense now -- it wasn't because he was curious or genuinely interested in her work, it was because he'd secretly been interrogating her for information. Getting Villain to trust him enough to let him into her world.

Villain was hurt bad when she found out. To learn that Hero was just like all the others who had betrayed and abandoned her over the years was agony, especially after how long they'd been dating. The pain had ripped her apart inside, tearing a hole in her heart that could never be fixed.

She had left Hero asleep in their bed that night, disappearing entirely after leaving one hand-written message on the dining room table for her lover to find in the morning:

I know the truth. I never should have trusted you. Don't bother coming after me, because you'll never find me. Our relationship is over. Goodbye, Hero.

And with that, Villain had left the one person she'd cared about behind, choosing to run away and disappear. But the grief and anguish never faded even with the distance she put between herself and lover, the guilt that she should have known better than to trust again. To believe that people could change. Hero would always be the knight in shining armor, and Villain was destined to be painted as the irredeemable monster.

Villain found herself wondering during many restless nights, what did I do wrong? How much of what Hero has said to her was real? Did he ever even love her at all? Or was it all a lie to get information?

She was broken inside, and she'd been laying low ever since she discovered the truth. The thought of accidently facing Hero again was unbearable. So she'd stayed hidden for three years after she left him behind, living off the money she'd stolen in the past and resolving not to continue her career as a villain, out of fear she might see her former lover on the battlefield.

The first day Villain was gone she'd received a text from Hero: please don't go -- we need to talk. I can explain everything.

She had never replied, blocking his number instead and doing her absolute best to forget about him. But... a small part of her still foolishly loved the hero who betrayed her. Hero still held the tiniest piece of her heart, even if he didn't love her back. And that wound hurt worst of all, an invisible injury that just wouldn't stop bleeding every time Villain's thoughts wandered to him, that festered and rotted and ate away at her soul every single day. Even three years hadn't been enough to dull the pain.

Villain hated that she missed Hero's laugh, his warm embrace. Hated how she missed seeing his special smile, the one he reserved only for her. She hated him for what he did, using her for information, and she never wanted to see him again. And yet… there were still nights she wished she was back in their shared room, snuggling and warm and feeling truly loved for the first time in forever, even if it had been fake. She wanted to believe the lie, if it would only numb the agony.

Villain shook her head with an irritated scowl, forcing her mind back to the present and away from the awful memories haunting her. They were like a bitter taste in her mouth, a rotting tooth that ached every time she poked at it with her tongue. There was no going back to the way things were -- so no use dwelling on it. She had disappeared from Hero's life, and she was better off alone anyway, she told herself. Even if she didn't want to believe it sometimes. Hero probably didn't even remember her anymore.

Villain was so absorbed in thought she almost didn't notice the hunched figure against the wall of the alley she was walking through, barely visible in the night. She only realized it was an actual person when she nearly tripped over them.

"Sorry--" she started to apologize, but sharply sprung backward when the person suddenly jumped up and lunged out of the shadows toward her, hands outstretched.

"Back off!" Villain snarled, immediately going on the defensive. She'd already wound a fist back and was ready to fight, but the surprise had delayed her reaction time, just enough that the cloaked stranger got close enough to charge into her, knocking her off-balance and sending them both tumbling to the ground.

Villain's head barked with pain when it hit the hard asphalt, but she brought her knees to her chest and blindly heaved up, her feet connecting with the stranger's stomach and throwing them off with a satisfying wheeze.

She scrambled to her feet, whipping around and bolting to escape -- she hadn't been prepared for an ambush, and she didn't have any of her favorite weapons on her. She was at a distinct disadvantage here and knew better than to engage in a fight she wasn't 100% guaranteed to win.

But her attacker was quick to recover, and managed to snag her jacket with a hand before she could run, roughly yanking her backwards and wrapping her in a chokehold with one arm.

Next ⏩️

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knoepfl · 7 months ago

Text

Down the Rabbit Hole

Characters:

Jervis Tetch (The Mad Hatter): The eccentric, slightly unhinged villain from the Arkham series. Jervis is obsessed with Alice in Wonderland, driven by his twisted interpretation of the story and haunted by his delusions. Despite his darkness, he holds an undeniable fascination and affection for the reader, seeing her as his "Alice."

Reader: Jervis’s "Alice" in his eyes, a woman who’s strong yet gentle enough to navigate his chaotic world. She cares for Jervis, understanding his inner turmoil, and is willing to indulge his fantasy, hoping to bring him a sense of calm in his madness.

Masterlist

Words: 718

---

The eerie glow of the dimly lit room cast shadows across the walls, the warped Wonderland paraphernalia twisting into strange shapes that almost seemed to move in the darkness. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself as you stepped further into Jervis’s lair, where clocks and hats adorned nearly every inch of the walls. It was unsettling to most, but you had come to know the man behind the madness—the Jervis who lived in the shadows and felt most at home in his own peculiar Wonderland.

Jervis was waiting, his eyes lighting up with delight the moment he spotted you. His grin stretched wide, but there was a gentleness in his expression reserved only for you. “My dear, my Alice,” he cooed, his voice taking on a honeyed tone. “Oh, how you brighten this dismal place.” His eyes roamed over you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

You managed a small smile, approaching him carefully. “You wanted to see me, Jervis?”

“Yes, yes,” he said quickly, nodding with excitement. He turned, gesturing toward a chair with an elaborate Victorian-style garment bag draped over it. “I… I have something for you. I thought—no, I hoped—you’d wear it… just for me.” He swallowed, his eyes darting back to you with an anxious, almost pleading look.

Walking over to the bag, you reached out, revealing a powder-blue dress with a white apron, a perfect replica of Alice’s dress. A part of you was startled by how much effort he’d put into finding something so accurate, yet it touched you that he cared enough to bring his vision to life with you in mind.

Taking a breath, you nodded. “All right, Jervis. I’ll be your Alice.”

The joy in his eyes was unmistakable as he waited for you to slip away and change. When you returned, the look of adoration on his face was undeniable. “Oh… Alice,” he whispered, reaching out to take your hand. “You… you look even more perfect than I imagined.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, offering him a smile that made his heart race. “I’m here, Jervis. Just like you wanted.”

“Indeed, indeed,” he murmured, almost to himself as he led you further into his Wonderland-inspired room, his touch lingering on your arm. He reached into his coat, pulling out a tiny bottle marked Drink Me. “A toast!” he exclaimed, pouring a small amount into two delicate cups. He offered one to you, his gaze intense, like you were the only thing anchoring him in his fantasy.

You raised your cup, sharing a soft chuckle as you took a sip, allowing yourself to be swept up in the odd magic of his world. The drink tasted sweet and slightly floral, the faintest tinge of bitterness lingering on your tongue.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ve finally come down the rabbit hole, my dear. No more looking back.” He brushed his fingers along your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

“Then let’s stay in Wonderland,” you murmured, placing your hand over his.

Jervis’s eyes sparkled with both awe and reverence, and before you could say another word, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was both hesitant and eager. It was as though he feared breaking the spell that bound you together but longed for the closeness he’d been yearning for.

Pulling back, he studied you with a wonder that was almost heartbreaking. “Alice… my Alice,” he murmured, his hand tracing your jawline gently. “Promise me you won’t disappear. That this isn’t just… a dream.”

Looking up at him, you placed a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. “I’m here, Jervis. I’m not going anywhere.”

That seemed to be all he needed to hear. He pulled you close, his lips brushing over yours with a tenderness that seemed at odds with the chaos surrounding him, and in that moment, you were his anchor—the only thing keeping his world from crumbling.

In his Wonderland, surrounded by darkness and dreams, he found solace in you. And as he held you, you found yourself willing to stay, to be his Alice, his tether to reality, and perhaps, his one chance at peace.

---

#fanfic #oc #fluff #fanfiction #Mad Hatter #mad hatter dc #jervis tetch #Dc #jervis tetch mad hatter #jervis tetch x reader #dc mad hatter #Mad Hatter dc #Mad Hatter Arkham Verse #batman arkham series #jervis tetch arkham city #Obsessed #delusional #Fluff

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descendantsramblings · 9 months ago

Note

Hello! Could I request a story about descendants 3 Hades x fem!reader? Preferably if the reader is hurt physically, and a hurt/comfort main theme? Thank you💕

Honestly, D3 Hades is so likable to me, I love Hades. I really wished D4 had used him more (or even that D3 had used him more. He's so interesting and at least in D4 he feels sorta dumbed down to just "dude in leather jacket" which is lame)

Let Me See

Hades x Villain Reader

Pronouns Used: she/her/hers

Summary: Her need to be independent keeps leading Hades' wife to getting in fights, she really got herself into it this time

Warnings: Injury and blood, Reader and Uliana have unexplained issues with each other, crying, hurt/comfort nonsense except they argue as a form of affection, Death mention, pet names as insults + insults as pet names, minor swearing

Word Count: 2.2K

(Y/n) and Uliana never got along well in high school. It didn’t take a genius to know that Uliana only let her stick around back then because of Hades. The sea witch would never willingly let a god- especially the god of the underworld- slip out of her grip over something as petty as disliking some girl. She was better than that, smarter than that. So despite the obvious tension between them as teens, the girls were always around each other. And you hear the stories of kids who didn’t get along in high school that find their way into a fond friendship in their adult years, but those two would never be that. She understood that now. Stories like that came from changed levels of maturity, something that didn’t always come to those on the Isle. From the blood dripping from her nose and arm to the welts in the shape of suction cups on her cheek, (Y/n) had learned that maturity had not come to Uliana. Why had she even gone over there? She should have known the weaker sea witch would still be doing foolish things to even seem partially as nasty as her older sister. Especially now that Hook had sold his precious Jolly Roger to her niece; anyone knew that Uli would’ve seen that as a form of betrayal. It was like the last ties of high school affections had finally been cut, nothing to protect her from the compensating aggression of Uliana now.

As she quietly makes her way into the lair, holding her breath in hopes of Hades being asleep. She didn’t want to deal with whatever “I told you so” statements the man would have if he saw the state she was in. He told her not to go see the sea witch, “nothing good can come from visiting a girl who hated you in highschool”. She hated that he was right, he was always right. It was exhausting, she just wanted to prove him wrong once. She makes her way to the bathroom, nearly making it without incident. Of course though, it was only nearly, Zeus must have cursed her luck when they sent her to this god forsaken island. The cut on her arm gets caught on the ragged edge of the door’s strike plate, eliciting a loud string of swears to fly from her mouth as the skin of her arm gets tugged to the side. Her hand flies to her mouth, the motion hitting her swelling cheek and already injured nose, tears welling in her eyes. She was not winning today, with Uliana or herself it seems.

If the loud swearing didn’t already have Hades on his feet, the strangled sob that followed it would have; the god flying from his recliner to the source of the noise as if his life depended on it. When he rounds the corner his eyes lock on (Y/n), taking in her hunched over posture. His wife is white knuckling the counter, staring down at the stained bowl of the sink while her shoulders shake with what he’s almost positive are silent sobs. It takes everything in him to be quiet, waiting to gauge how she was planning to react. He slinks into the bathroom, closing the door and leaning on it. His arms cross over his chest, knee bending to prop his leg up against the hollow wood as he stands there, watching, waiting. She’d noticed him, Hades knew she did. Shoulders stilling with a shaky breath as she reaches up to wipe her eyes, the motion making her let out a pained whimper.

“Give me your worst,” despite mumbling it she knows that he hears her. “You think you can handle the worst of two real villains back to back, Princess?” Hades doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s rolling her eyes, some part of him can just feel it. The idea makes him smile softly, eyes casting up and down her body. “Uliana is not a real villain, don’t stroke her fragile little ego like that. She’s just a brat with anger issues. That’s all she’s ever been.” He chuckles, using his leg to push himself off the wall and over to her, hands finding their foundation on her shoulders. “You know, that’s tough talk coming from you, Princess. Maybe that’s how she got you in this little situation.” He presses a kiss to the back of her head, waiting for her to look up to him so he can kiss her properly. Hades knew better than to rush the woman though, she would surely reject the touch if it wasn’t her decision. She hated being told what to do in any sense, even if it was just him tilting her head towards him. Everything she did had to come from her own ideas. If pressed, he’d admit it was part of the reason he fell for her. In a vague attempt at sounding put together she lets out a cheap scoff, “I’m not crying over some sea witch, I just ended my affair, idiot.” It’s followed by a broken laugh, and though she doesn’t look up to him, she leans further into his touch. “Oh yeah? Who was my unlucky competition? Gaston? Hook? Jafar perhaps? Oh I know, that little snake finally got his hands on you, he wanted you so bad in school.” He’s laughing, rubbing his hands up and down her arms as speaks, the tone far too light for her to think he took her joke as anything but. “Maleficent, obviously. It was always her,” she mumbles, hissing as his hand unknowingly brushes the cut on her forearm. The man snatches his hand away from her, looking down to see the slick blood covering his fingers. The bubbling joke he had about how they had the same taste dies as he sees it. Who did Uliana think she was? If she thought she could hurt his woman like that she had another thing coming.

“What did she do to you?” There’s a fire behind it and his wife knows that if the barrier didn’t prevent it his head would be bursting into vibrant flames. She tries not to think about how much she misses the sight of it. “Nothing big, I can handle it. I just need the first aid kit, and some ice. You think you could go get me something cold?” He hums, pressing a kiss to one of her shoulders, “I’ll be right back with it. I moved the first aid kit to the bottom drawer.” She nods, leaning down to open the drawer once she hears the door close behind him. The old red plastic lost its shine a long time ago, potentially before they even got it. Not that it mattered, it still worked, she kept it stocked well enough. When you’re known for stupid things you have to be prepared for stupid prizes, don’t you? It opens with a satisfying click, the lid clattering against the counter noisily. She rustles through it one handed as she searches for her butterfly bandages to close her arm up. The boxes had broken at some point, leaving different sizes all over the container. Or someone had emptied them in the box, seems like something Celia could’ve done if Hades pissed her off. The idea made the woman giggle, imagining the little girl standing in her bathroom tearing apart boxes with that grumpy little pout on her face. She’d have to ask her about it the next time the kid came by. If not her, probably her stepson, Hadie and his dad always had to have something to argue about.

“What’s got you giggling?” He’s holding one of those old ice packs they got right after getting back together, one the baby ones she’d snagged for a much younger Mal and Hadie. Smiling at his wife as she shuffles through the box in front of her. “Someone spilt all the band-aids in here. Which would be a lot funnier if I wasn’t looking for those little butterfly ones that hold things closed.” He hums, putting the boo boo ice in her hand and taking the box from her. “Let me see.” She holds the cold gel pack to her welts, hissing at the sensation as she forces herself to lean into it. “I bet this was Hadie,” he grumbles, sifting through and throwing the tiny bandages into his other hand’s palm. “I thought Celia did it,” she mumbles, watching his hands intently, “You did piss her off something fierce last week.” Another chuckle falls from his lips, placing the tiny bandages and a large wrap bandage on the counter. “You need to hop on this counter and let me see what we’re working with.” She scoffs, popping her hip against his, “Who said this was a two person job?” The man tilts her head to him, taking in the swollen cheek and dried blood with a scowl. “I said. You don’t get to ‘strong independent woman’ this, you’re hurt, I’m helping. Now hop on the counter yourself or I’m putting you on it.”

She plants her feet, tilting her head as if to challenge the man. “I don’t need help. Didn’t need help getting hurt, don’t need help cleaning myself up.” His brow raises, stepping closer to her and dipping his head down so their noses touch, “You’ve done enough fighting today, haven’t you? And it looks like you lost to me, get on that counter.” “You haven’t seen the other guy,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest on instinct. A hiss follows directly after, the raw skin on her left arm slipping over her vest’s zipper in a way that felt like it was chewing the wound. “Uh huh,” he grabs her hand, pulling her injured arm to him. It wasn’t anywhere that he had to worry about. No major vessels in the way, the skin simply oozing blood instead of spurting it. That’s good, he was worried after he saw it on his own skin.

She doesn’t fight it when his hands wrap around her hips, lifting her like she weighed nothing and setting her on the bathroom counter. “I am making sushi out of that fool.” He doesn’t intend for her to hear him but the giggle she lets out is comforting all the same. “And you have got to stop doing the opposite of what you think I want you to do just because you don’t want to listen to anyone else. You can’t keep doing shit like this, (Y/n). I’m going to end up losing you.” It makes the air around them heavy, Hades turning to the linen closet to grab a wash rag. She opens her mouth to respond, just to realize she didn’t have anything of substance to say. What could she say? You’re going to lose me anyway if we’re stuck here? He was immortal and she wasn’t. No way he didn’t lose her. You got me back the last time? Something told her that he wouldn’t like her reminding him she left him seventeen years ago. And she didn’t like the idea of being reminded that she’d get to go to the underworld before he’d ever be able to go back, separated for so long her soul might forget him. Instead she sighs, eyes locked on Hades’ every minor movement. He runs water over the rag and when it touches the aggravated skin on her arm; she nearly moans at the contact. The chill of it was so comforting, the gentle strokes he’s using keeping the normally exfoliating fabric as nothing more than a tickle against her skin. Tongue slightly poked out as he pulls the skin closer together, eyes cutting up to her every now and then to insure that he wasn’t hurting her. “Hold that.” She follows the order, too tired -or perhaps too relieved by his help- to argue. He places the little butterfly bandaids over the opened flesh in sets of two, six of the little things covering the cut total, before grabbing the wrap bandage from beside her. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought,” he mumbles, wrapping the gauze-like material around her, “Not too tight?” She shakes her head, “It’s fine.”

With her arm handled he turns to her face, touching her chin ever so slightly to turn her head from side to side. “I hated when she’d accidentally hit me with those slimey things back in highschool, can’t imagine how it felt to be hit with one on purpose.” She hums, watching him lift the now bloodied rag again. “Sucked.” He rolls his eyes, “Yeah? I bet it did, Princess.” The rag comes up to her nose, wiping blood away from her top lip. “At least it’s not broken, just bled a little.” She nods, nothing left to say as he raises the ice pack to her cheek again. “You’re definitely going to have some bruises on that cheek though. Lucky for you, I still think you’re hot when you’re all beat up.” Her eyes roll but there’s an adoring glow to her face that he doesn’t miss. “You have got to take care of yourself, (Y/n). I can’t lose you to something as silly as some fool’s attitude.” His face is soft, eyes locked on her as his hands settle on her thighs. She knows what to say this time though, leaning forward to press a quick peck to his lips that only hurts her a little bit. “I love you. Like, really really love you.” He hums, pulling her closer to him from her little perch on the counter. “I love you, idiot.”

#descendants #descendants imagines #descendants x reader #descendants fanfiction #descendants 3 #hades descendants #hades x reader

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 9 months ago

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Hello! What do you think about Natalie, her writing and fandom treatment? I find it fascinating that despite all the evil, she has so many fans, and even those who salt on ML and the Agrestes heavily often portray her as cool and/or sympathetic.

Prior to season five, I had mixed feelings about Nathalie. I like badass female villains, but I don't like women being idiots over men. Those were her two defining traits in season three and four, so my attitude was mostly, "can we please switch her motivation so that I can love her? I really want to love her because, if we remove the romance crap, then she reminds me of Shego and the world needs more Shegos!"

Then season five hit....

I utterly despise Nathalie's season five writing and think it makes her look weak, cruel, and ineffectual. I have no idea why so many people adore her and are excited that she's Adrien's new mom. She is not meaningfully better than Gabriel. In fact, season five Nathalie bothers me more than Gabriel. Why? Because Gabriel is the villain. He's allowed to be villainous. When Nathalie was a villain, the same rules applied. But the show claims that she's good now and yet she does nothing meaningful to stop Gabriel even though she could have.

Nathalie lives in the Agreste mansion, knows all of Gabriel's secrets, and has access to his secret lair. We also see her pin Gabriel to a table, undo his senti commands, and boss him around without any retaliation. He just rolls over and takes it. This is not the setup for a weak willed woman who sits idly by crying woe is me because she has no true power, yet that's basically what Nathalie is in season five. The first part of the final even outright confirms that Nathalie knows Gabriel's ultimate plan:

(A Tsurugi Industries pop-up appears on the screen.) Ad voice: After months of research, Tsurugi Labs have found the antidote– Nathalie: (Swipes the pop-up away.) He's going to finally do it...

So why didn't she find a way to contact the heroes and tell them what was going on? Why did she wait until she was dying to do something? Right after the above line, she grabs her crossbow and goes off to find Gabriel in a moment that made me roll my eyes. It's such blatant pathetic fan service. Only now when Nathalie is too weak to make a difference is she finally allowed to make a token effort to stop the man that she's been babying all season.

If Nathalie was allowed to be the kind of character they wrote her to be, then she would have acted much sooner and to greater effect. For example, imagine if her akumatization was just a ruse to get to the heroes. Once she loses and Gabriel can no longer see what's going on, she calls on the heroes to wait and then tells them everything, offering to help stop Gabriel. That's the kind of shit I'd expect from Nathalie's character.

Instead she just lays around in bed and occasionally pleads with Gabriel to change his mind like in this scene from Intuition:

Nathalie: Gabriel, you may only have a few weeks left like this... and I don't have much more than that. Maybe it's time to stop chasing after the Miraculous and start looking for a solution for Adrien. Make sure he's not alone once we're gone. (Hearing these words, Gabriel's eyes start to fill with sadness. Nathalie places her hands over Gabriel's.) Nathalie: Do it. For Emilie.

Nathalie, you have known this man for literal decades. Why do you expect this to work? Wake up and take charge, woman! Tell Adrien yourself! Help the heroes! Right your wrongs! You are literally dying! What do you have to lose? She honestly comes across pretty hypocritically here because, as she pointed out, they are both actively dying, which will leave Adrien alone, and yet Nathalie also does nothing to prepare Adrien for that. She just wrings her hands and hopes that Gabriel will do the right thing for both of them and I just... GAHHHHH!!!

The only semi-meaningful thing that Nathalie does in season five is undo Gabriel's commands, but that's literally just her maintaining the status quo. It's only there so that the writers don't have to deal with the senti stuff having any real consequences beyond delaying the Adrienette kiss a few episodes. Nathalie isn't trying to free Adrien or get his rings into safe hands before her death. She's just withering away and listening to Adrien talk about Marinette while knowing that he will soon lose everything. It's legitimately upsetting to me.

The anger some people feel about Marinette's actions at the end of the final is how I felt about Nathalie for all of season five and Nathalie is a freaking adult who has known everything for years. Matinette only knows the truth in a context where she can tell Adrien for about two on-screen minutes and that's assuming that Marinette figured out that Adrien is a sentimonster from context clues which she may not have! No one ever explicitly told her the truth and she had a lot of things thrown at her in rapid succession. I would not be stunned if season six reveals that she's still in the dark.

Nathalie is not sympathetic. She has had full agency and knowledge throughout the entire show. She has never been forced to do anything. She is the only peacock wielder to wield it knowing that she would die. She willingly supported Gabriel even when it put Adrien at risk. She outed Adrien's identity in Chat Blanc. She snapped away sentiBug! She's a great villain! She is a piss poor maternal figure.

The final annoying thing about her season five writing is that her "changing sides" makes no sense! She has no idea why the time travel plan failed and her own FIRST HAND EXPERIENCE is that Gabriel will put those he loves before defeating Ladybug (see: Ladybug where Gabriel chose Nathalie over winning). It is such a glaring example of bad writing that it infuriates me! This is the exchange I'm talking about:

Nathalie: (on-call) Gabriel, did it work? Gabriel: No, Ladybug tricked me! She stole the Time Miraculous from me! (Nathalie coughs from her sickness.) You have to help me! Come up with a new plan! Ladybug can’t get away with this! Nathalie: (on-call) You had the Time Miraculous. You could’ve chosen to save Emilie! You could’ve chosen to save me! (coughs) But instead, you chose your obsession with Ladybug and Cat Noir. You're insane, Gabriel!

Please remember that Nathalie has been helping him behind the scenes since the start and is fully aware that every plan he's ever made has failed even though she considered many of those dozens-if-not hundreds-of-plans brilliant.

Gabriel: If it were to fail Nathalie, I could never forgive myself. Nathalie: You made a promise to your wife. You've risked so much for the chance to bring her back. (Hands Gabriel her tablet) Lila has been harboring her rage against Ladybug for months, and today wherever she looks, she'll see the object of her hatred, and as predicted, her anger will reach devastating heights. Your plan is perfect, sir. Gabriel: And you're sure you want to do this? Nathalie: I will always be here for you. We will succeed.

Why is she suddenly so sure that this plan was different? What made her go from encouraging Gabriel to take risks to calling him insane? Why is she suddenly convinced that Gabriel can't possibly win and needs to focus on Adrien when she never said a word during the multiple akumas that directly threatened Adrien's life?

The meta reason is that the writers needed her to act as if she'd been watching the episode so that she wouldn't blindly support Gabriel anymore, allowing them to do the senti BS without it being meaningful to the story. The in show reason? I've got nothing. It is jarring to watch this while remembering that season four ended with Nathalie being given ownership of Adrien and willingly accepting that task, even going so far as to issue senti commands to "Adrien" to make him obey, which does not instill confidence in her parenting skills.

It's just so freaking infuriating. It would have been so much better if Nathalie was allowed to die and we got Emilie back. Nathalie did absolutely nothing to deserve a magical healing and I've been curious about Emilie since day one.

#alexunbroken #Nathalie salt #ml writing critical #ml writing salt #Nathalie deserves better #Give me back my black hearted villainess!

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anto-pops · 2 months ago

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The Serpent's Paramour CH 14 - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: The last thing you expected was for Ominis to be the one to rescue you from Henri's villainous lair. You have so many questions, but the Auror is annoyingly tight-lipped about literally everything, and your confusion only grows when you wake up in an unfamiliar place surrounded by familiar faces. As far as unexpected alliances go, this one most certainly takes the cake.

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit language, lots of banter, hurt/comfort

Shiny new chapter is also up on Ao3

“I beg your pardon?”

You owed him? For what? Abiding by Henri’s demands and paying the lunatic exorbitant amounts of coin to relinquish you into his custody? Your life was forfeit now that you were with Ominis. The Auror had said it himself: the Minister wanted you alive. There was no going back to Sebastian after this– not unless you miraculously mastered wandless magic, incapacitated Ominis, and found your way back to the Ashwinder manor.

You didn’t even know where the hell the manor was. Its location was a secret to you– as were most things.

Unfazed by your venomous tone, Ominis propped his elbow on the ledge by the window, perching his chin in his palm as he sighed. “You heard me. Triple the reward money is absurd. I should have walked out of there the second he started haggling.”

Completely stumped, you gaped at the side of his head like a fish. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. You wanted to leave me there? Even though the Minister sent you to collect me?”

“The Minister didn’t send me to do anything. I came of my own volition.”

Now you were even more confused. You gingerly rubbed the side of your face, the bruise that covered the length of your jaw throbbing in response. “This doesn’t make any sense. Aren’t you here to arrest me? Throw me in Azkaban?”

“No.”

“But I destroyed the Detention Area. I literally performed terrorism at the Ministry. You were there–”

“I was,” Ominis interjected, pivoting his head so it was angled towards you. His cloudy eyes narrowed at the memory of what had transpired. “And since I was there, believe me when I say that I don’t need a reminder of what happened.”

“I don’t understand,” your hands fell in your lap, and you nervously began picking at your dirty nails. “Why are you here? You’re not going to arrest me, but you paid Henri for the bounty?”

The weary sigh Ominis let loose was one of complete and utter exasperation. “He was right, you do ask a lot of questions.”

“Who is he?”

“A man.”

Against your better judgement, you felt heat rising to your cheeks. You were getting angry, and the Auror’s unwillingness to explain what the hell was going on was only making matters worse. You were tired, bewildered, hungry, and covered in seven days worth of filth. Over the last week, you had been kicked, slapped, punched, starved, and put under the influence of an Unforgivable. Asking questions around Henri hadn’t seemed wise, so you’d kept your mouth shut in the foyer– but now you were in a Ministry carriage with the man who had recently tried to kill Sebastian, and he was telling you that the Ministry hadn’t sent him?

The silence in the carriage turned tense, and you began to vibrate with frustration. Ominis sniffed, ignoring you completely as you glared daggers into the side of his head. “So, what? You’re just going to sit there and not explain anything?”

“That would be fine by me,” he deadpanned, and your hands twitched with the desire to smack him. Had he always been so brusque?

“Will you at least tell me where we’re going?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Sweet fucking Merlin, this man was impossible. Unable to take the non-answers any longer, you snapped, “I don’t remember you being so childish.”

At that, Ominis dropped his arm and shot you a scowl so chilling that you were surprised it didn’t freeze you on the spot. “Well, I don’t remember you being so willing to use dark magic. In fact, I seem to remember us being in agreement when we said we wouldn’t dabble in it. But it appears people change.”

“You don’t know a damn thing! You have no idea what I’ve been through–”

“Oh, woe is you,” his voice pitched up as he mocked you, and you envisioned yourself choking the life out of him at that moment. “I have no idea what you’ve been through? Maybe that’s because you shut me out of your life completely. Not just me– everyone. You made a conscious choice to keep your circumstances to yourself, so don’t sit there and drone on at me about how hard things have been when you know damn well you could have asked for help. I got you away from that rat bastard– at no small expense, I might add– so just keep quiet and don’t talk to me. You’re awfully good at that, so it should be easy.”

As it turned out, the last thing you were prepared to do was be quiet. He had done it now– unleashed five years worth of resentments on you after saving you from quite possibly the most hellish week of your life. Emotionally strung out and at your wits end, you threw your hands up and hissed, “Then why do any of this?! Why give Henri your entire fucking retirement fund for the bounty if it was such a hassle? Why not let him sell me off to the highest bidder? You can’t just expect me to take you coming to get me at face value and not ask questions!”

“Someone called in a favor,” he answered vaguely, smoothing his long fingers over his perfectly styled hair. For a moment you considered tangling your fingers in the strands to smash his face into the door. You were about to unleash the most eclectic string of curses known to man on him when he sighed and glanced in your direction again. “And if you must know, there was no bounty. Henri was tricked into thinking there was one. But the Ministry doesn’t know about you… I didn’t tell them anything.”

This entire conversation was leaving you feeling like you’d run laps around the entire country. Completely befuddled, you asked, “Why not?”

He was scowling again, “Can’t you just say thank you and stop with the interrogation?”

“No. Answer the question.”

“For the love of…” he shook his head, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply through his nose. He blew out the breath through pursed lips, “Because you saved me, alright? You weren’t trying to kill me when you did your little magic trick back in London. You gave me a heads up instead of crushing me into a messy pulp. Now we’re even.”

The carriage jostled to the side as the Thestrals maneuvered along the snow-riddled path. By now you were deep enough in the forest that the grey skies were blocked out entirely by the trees, and you briefly wondered why the creatures transporting you weren’t flying. It wasn’t important, though. Not right now. You still had a million other burning questions that needed answering.

“And this favor you’re repaying?” Ominis had turned away from you again, pointing his unseeing gaze out the window and giving you no sign that he’d heard you. Prick. “Who’s it for?”

More infuriating silence. You scoffed and mirrored his position, angling your body away from him as carefully as you could without straining your bruised ribs. Part of you wanted to ask him for a Wiggenweld potion to ease the discomfort that had been your constant companion for a week straight, but a stronger, more stubborn part of you didn’t want to ask him for a damn thing. He clearly wasn’t helping you because he wanted to, and if he was going to pretend like you weren’t sitting two feet away from him, then so be it.

The carriage continued to wobble along the beaten path, the sound of the Thestral’s hooves beating against the ground the only thing that reached your ears. It was quiet in this part of the world– a snowy tundra that could have stretched on for miles as far as you were aware. It was no wonder you hadn’t seen any sign of life while looking out your cell window; aside from humans, you didn’t think there was anything that could survive out here this time of year.

Unwilling to break the silence that filled the transport, you began mulling over the information you’d uncovered about Sebastian. Specifically, the knowledge that he was working for Victor Rookwood. You still didn’t know if you wanted to believe it. It was hard to imagine the dark wizard you’d essentially bludgeoned to death being… well, not dead. Even though you’d kept to yourself on the outskirts of towns and avoided contact with people for two years straight, you hadn’t heard so much as a whisper of Rookwood’s name. Him being alive went against every strip of evidence claiming otherwise.

But there was sorely little Sebastian had actually told you. Metaphorically speaking, you’d been kept in the dark for so long that your eyes had simply adjusted to the dimness instead of searching for the light. Ignorance was bliss, as the saying went, but you were sick of being unawares. You needed answers– preferably before you saw Sebastian again.

If you saw him again.

“You’re going to give yourself a migraine if you keep thinking that hard. You should sleep,” Ominis muttered under his breath. Turning to look at him, you saw that he was still pressed up against his side of the carriage, facing the window as he spoke.

“Don’t tell me you suddenly care about my wellbeing,” you spat sarcastically. It was petty and ridiculous for you to keep being so hostile, but you were miffed.

“Whatever you might think of me, I’m not cruel enough to want you to suffer. Besides, if you relax, it benefits me as much as it does you. You’re projecting.”

“I’m what? What does that mean?”

His lip curled, “It means that when you’re angry or upset, you throw out that bizarre magic of yours. Not a lot, but enough to make my hair stand on end. I don’t even think you know you’re doing it– you did it back in London, too. It’s stifling.”

You were projecting your magic unconsciously? Isidora’s magic? That didn’t make any sense. Sure, your control over it was lukewarm at best, but it wasn’t like it ran rampant every day. His observation had startled you into silent contemplation, but eventually you managed to reply, “I find that hard to believe.”

“Why? It’s obviously incredibly powerful. I tend to be more susceptible to these sorts of things. It…” he trailed off, tipping his head down as he considered his next words carefully. “It’s not like any of the dark magic I was subjected to growing up.”

Even though you were frustrated with him, you bristled at the mention of his past. Ominis had dealt with enough villains in his life. Maybe the two of you weren’t friends anymore, and maybe you never would be again, but for some reason, you didn’t want him to think you were anything like the dark wizards he hunted down and arrested. All the fight seeped out of you then, and you visibly deflated against the cushions of your seat.

“I’m sorry if it bothers you,” you muttered. Ominis turned to face you fully, quirking a brow at you curiously. “You’re right– I don’t know that I’m doing it. I can barely control it as it is. This magic is… weirdly alive. I regret ever taking it and making it mine.”

The carriage went over another bump in the road, jostling the two of you in the backseat and making you both sway in tandem. All the while the Auror said nothing. He just pursed his lips, clearly struggling to voice his inner thoughts, and you watched as his knuckles blanched white around the handle of his wand. “What is it?”

“Pain. A whole repository’s worth. A little gift left by Isidora Morganach beneath Hogwarts.” You shook your head at the memory of that massive, floating ball of power you had foolishly unlocked. When you had first absorbed it, it had been overwhelming– like all your senses had heightened inexplicably and made you superior somehow. Stronger, faster, sharper. But the bone deep unease followed soon after, along with that unrelenting prickling beneath your skin that reminded you day after day that it was still there.

Ominis, much to your surprise, didn’t gasp or show any signs of alarm. Instead he just asked, “Where was I when all of this was happening?”

Everything had transpired so quickly around that time. It was one thing after another that needed solving or fixing. That was precisely why you hadn’t been very successful in convincing Ominis to ignore his moral compass where Sebastian was concerned. You’d just accepted his decision and rushed off to save the world from Ranrok. “You were probably speaking with the Headmaster.”

It was only a small intake of breath, but you still heard it all the same. Ominis dipped his chin in understanding, his lips parting around an airy curse, and you couldn’t help but suddenly feel guilty. He didn’t need to shoulder any blame for what had happened. You hadn’t told him to make him feel bad. Besides, it was five years too late for regrets.

Unsure of where to go from there, the two of you went quiet. The carriage continued to shift and lurch as the Thestrals navigated through the snow-covered forest, the canopy of trees overhead casting ever-shifting shadows through the windows. You hadn’t really realized how tired you were until you let your head rest against the cold glass. The second you allowed yourself to lean sideways, your eyelids were sliding shut.

Of course you were still nervous about where exactly Ominis was taking you. Your skittish, guarded nature made it impossible for you to fully relax in situations like this. But something told you that despite what had happened in London, you could trust him to keep you safe. He wasn’t a liar, so if he said he wasn’t taking you to Azkaban or turning you over to the Ministry, you believed him.

The week’s worth of fear induced stress coupled with the frigid nighttime temperatures meant that you’d hardly slept, and those seven days of fatigue hit you all at once. Before long, it was impossible for you to keep your eyes open any longer, and you hoped that Ominis would be granted some reprieve while you finally relaxed.

—

You dreamt that you were flying.

There was nothing visual about your dream, just the distinct feeling that you were weightless, cradled close to something solid and warm. Your feet swayed, and your head tipped sideways and landed against something firm.

Whatever it was, it smelled outdoorsy. Like cedar wood, with a hint of old books hidden beneath.

You didn’t know where you were flying to, but eventually the lightweight sensation came to an end. The cocoon of warmth vanished, replaced by something soft and bouncy. That wonderful, familiar scent came close to you again, filling your nose as the wind blew your hair off of your face. The wind felt an awful lot like a finger, though. Your dark, sceneless dream came to a close then, and you stayed halfway between wakefulness and sleep for an unknown amount of time afterwards. Honestly, you could have stayed there for days and been content.

But then you picked up on something else.

Someone was arguing. You could hear it through the walls; distant and muffled, yet clear enough for you to make out the biting timbre of the voice. There was another person, too. A different man, if the matter-of-fact tone was any indication. Neither one stood out to you, though. You were still so tired, and when you rolled over to burrow back into the pillows, a throbbing pain shot up your side.

That was what prompted you to open your eyes. The unfamiliar room you found yourself in, however, was what kicked your brain into action.

It was the kind of place you would expect to find inside of an old, run down inn. The small bed you were tucked into creaked loudly as you sat up, taking exceptional care not to jostle your bruised ribs. A time-worn nightstand with a singular drawer was to your left, along with an untouched glass of water. There was a chifforobe near the bedroom door, an oil lamp hanging on the wall, and a tiny room off to the side that revealed a toilet and a tub within.

Every part of your body hurt as you steadied yourself, taking in your surroundings with a modicum of uncertainty burning in your veins. How in Merlin’s name had you ended up here? The last thing you remembered was falling asleep in the carriage beside Ominis. You didn’t even need to glance around the room to see that he wasn’t here– just you. Alone in a bedroom that looked like it housed diseases that hadn’t seen the light of day in centuries.

Marvelous.

The voices that had roused you from your sleep dragged your attention away from your immediate surroundings, the blatant bickering happening outside the bedroom door growing louder.

“–should have killed him, not paid him. He’s a fucking monster!”

Sebastian?

“In case you’ve forgotten, the majority of us still living in the real world aren’t as inclined to skip straight to murder!” Were you dead? Either hell had frozen over somehow, or Ominis was talking to Sebastian. Er, arguing with him. The semantics didn’t matter though– there was no feasible way the two of them were really in the same room together.

You threw off the blankets and slowly began shuffling over to the door, moving at the pace of a snail due to the aches and pains that radiated from your head to your toes.

“If the real world condones making a woman look like that, then you’re all a bunch of idiots,” Sebastian snarled viciously. The floorboards outside your room creaked as though someone had moved across them, and you heard a different voice mutter something unintelligible. “I don’t care! That man is in dire need of getting his head turned inside out. The whole fucking place should be demolished. Burned down, expunged, whatever.”

At the same time you realized they were talking about Henri, you pulled the bedroom door open. It squeaked on its hinges loudly, ruining your chances of making a silent entrance, but it hardly mattered seeing as everyone was already facing you. They were all gathered around a long table in the middle of what was, in fact, an inn’s lobby. It was completely deserted inside– no barkeep in sight behind the counter near the back of the room– and all the doors lining the walls were shut, so you had no clue if there were other patrons around.

Ominis had his arms crossed over his chest, his lips pulled down in a frown that conveyed his frustration well enough. He was perched on the edge of a massive table, his back to the roaring firepit in the center of the room. The eerie sight of the flames licking up into the air behind him made his hair look positively luminescent, and you found yourself comparing his appearance to that of those fallen angels you had read about once upon a time.

Sebastian was on the other side of the table, his thick arms braced on the wooden surface to support him as he leaned across to get closer to Ominis. He looked angry, but more than that, he looked tired. Worn out. Like he hadn’t slept at all since you’d last seen him. He wore a simple black button-up shirt and matching black trousers that were stuffed into a pair of mining boots. His windblown hair was disheveled and messy, the strands curling in varying directions and making it seem like he’d raked his fingers through it repeatedly. He was paler than normal– although that could have been attributed to the glow of the firepit– and dark circles shadowed the underside of his eyes.

Said eyes, warm and brown and familiar, suddenly shifted so they were trained directly on you.

All the air seemed to leave the room at that moment, and you watched as his chest rose with the sudden intake of breath he sucked in. The corded muscles in his neck flexed as he swallowed thickly, and you could have sworn you saw a tremor snake its way up his spine. His gaze swept over all of you, starting with your face before trailing all the way down to your bare feet, then returning to meet your hesitant stare.

He had come for you. Somehow, someway, he had worked with Ominis to get you out of Henri’s clutches. They were both here– albeit at each other’s throats– but they were together.

Could things get any stranger?

“You look like shit, kid.” Your head turned toward the familiar voice so fast that it made your neck throb. Devlin was the only one in the room actually sitting down, his ankles crossed and perched atop the chair next to him, and he twirled his wand dexterously in his right hand, which was propped up on the table. Despite the lighthearted jab, his blue eyes were unnaturally stormy. Worried, you realized. He looked worried.

You shrugged loosely, clasping your hands behind your back in an attempt to appear more put together than you felt. “Henri might live in a castle, but it’s the farthest thing from a palace. The manor makes his place seem like a hovel.”

Devlin’s eyes brightened at your quip, and he flashed you a smirk that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. “We’ve spoiled you, eh? Who would have thought?”

Through the corner of your eye, you could still see Sebastian staring at you. You weren’t even certain if he’d blinked since you’d joined everyone in the lobby. A flurry of emotions erupted in your stomach, tangling together and forming a knot that left you queasy. There was uncertainty, fear, and rage, because you still didn’t know what to think about the whole Victor Rookwood thing. There was relief and concern, because he was actually physically here, but he looked strung out. You wondered how he had dealt with your sudden disappearance from the manor for the past week, though you were sure Devlin would fill you in eventually.

There was something else, though. Something ripe and tangible– something that blanketed you warmly and left you feeling reassured.

Love.

The realization struck you with the force of a train. Doing your best to stay calm, you slowly shuffled over to the table, wincing slightly as you lowered yourself into the seat closest to Ominis. A muscle in Sebastian’s jaw ticked as he studied your stiff movements. When he spoke, his voice was low and threatening, “I want to kill him for what he did to you.”

“Yeah, well, get in line.” If anyone was going to maim Henri for what he’d done, it was going to be you. Speaking of which… “Does anyone have any Wiggenweld? I’m all for the ‘rub some dirt in it’ method, but I’m kind of tired of breathing hurting.”

That was the wrong thing to say, if Sebastian’s murderous expression was any indication. His nails scraped across the wood of the table as he curled his hands into fists, and Ominis sighed as though he were dealing with a toddler throwing a tantrum, not a bloodthirsty dark wizard. The Auror flicked his wand and conjured up a few vials of green potion, and you hastily snatched one up and uncorked it before knocking it back. The relief was instantaneous, and you sighed at the feeling of your skin warming before the aches and pains lessened along with the heat.

“Thanks,” you muttered, setting the glass flask down and picking up another. You glanced at the three men as you uncorked the second vial, taking note of the palpable tension that filled the room. “Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but why are you all here?”

Sebastian was too busy glaring at Ominis to bother responding, so it was Devlin who chimed in from the other side of the table. “Obviously we weren’t going to leave you out here. It took a while, but when we figured out where Henri had hidden you away, we put together a plan.”

“A plan that involved a fake bounty?” Devlin nodded, and your eyes jumped over to Ominis. “How chivalrous. But how did you get involved?”

Ominis craned his head down to stare in your general direction, but his unseeing eyes were fixed on the table. “Like I said before; someone called in a favor.”

“Since when are you doing favors for Sebastian? I know it all happened kind of fast, but the two of you were trying to kill each other not that long ago. There were Dementors, Devlin was petrified… ring any bells?”

“I didn’t do it for Sebastian,” Ominis stated roughly, and the dark wizard glaring at him stiffened. It should have been impossible, but his expression darkened even more. “I did it for Anne.”

Sweet baby Graphorn in a handbasket…

You blinked at him dumbfounded for a few seconds, stunned into silence at the revelation. When you found your voice, all you could say was, “Anne? As in Anne Sallow?”

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms again, “Do you know any other Anne’s?”

Sebastian looked like he was on the verge of vaulting over the table to wring Ominis’ neck, which only confused you further. What the hell had happened while you were gone? “Why would Anne ask you for a favor on my behalf? And how did she even know what happened? We’re not– I mean, we were never particularly close.”

Devlin sat forward, letting his legs fall to the floor so he could dig his elbows into the table. “Einstein over there,” he jerked his chin in Sebastian’s direction, “thought it would be a brilliant idea to go check on his sister personally. A few days after you got snatched, one of our contacts at St. Mungo’s sent word that some of Henri’s men were poking around the hospital. We’ve had people there keeping an eye on Anne from the very beginning as a precaution, and it turned out to be the right call. When we went to check it out, golden boy over there was already on the scene.”

Glancing over at Ominis, you saw him working a muscle in his jaw. He clearly wasn’t fond of the nickname, but he said nothing. As you processed what Devlin was telling you some more, your stomach sank. A few days after Henri had captured you was when he’d made you tell him about Sebastian’s plans. That was when you’d been forced to admit that Anne was the catalyst for all of it. It was your fault that the Poachers had shown up at the hospital, and the thought made you bristle.

“After we dealt with Henri’s men, we had no choice but to come clean about what was going on,” Devlin explained swiftly. “We couldn’t exactly hide our presence at that point. The whole thing was… a little messy.”

“A lot messy, more like. You should never have set foot there,” Ominis hissed. He pushed away from the table and turned away from the group, but you knew he was talking to Sebastian when he growled, “You claim to want to help Anne, and yet you put her in danger by exposing her to dangerous criminals. Keeping her comfortable and out of your messed up life should be your only priority.”

Sebastian radiated a quiet sort of rage that made your skin crawl. If Ominis was susceptible to your ‘projecting’ as he had called it, you wondered if he could feel the anger rolling from his former best friend in waves. “I don’t know why Henri’s people were there, but you have no right to tell me what I can and can’t do for my sister. I don’t care how close the two of you are, you have no business policing her life the way you do.”

“Well someone had to step in after her brother killed her uncle and got thrown in prison. Or would you rather she be by herself? Would you feel better knowing that she’d spent the last five years alone? Without company or any sense of normalcy? I knew you were selfish, but I didn’t realize you could be so heartless.”

One minute Sebastian was hunched over the table glaring daggers at the Auror, and the next, he was in his face. He glowered down his nose at the blond man, and even though Ominis was a few inches taller, Sebastian’s domineering presence managed to dwarf him. “I would rather you bugger off back to the Ministry and leave my sister’s wellbeing to me! You helped keep her safe– great, phenomenal, I’m forever grateful. But your job is done now. I’m here, and she won’t have to put up with her curse for much longer.”

“Like hell I’m leaving her with you,” Ominis grit through his teeth, squaring his shoulders and standing firm in the face of Sebastian’s palpable fury. “You’re nothing but trouble. The only reason she’s here now is because her safety was compromised at the hospital. She’s not joining you on your insane suicide mission to unlock more dark relics!”

Things were getting heated fast, and the knowledge that Anne was apparently here didn’t help matters. If you had been able to hear the fighting from within your room, you didn’t doubt that Anne was listening in on all of it, too. You set down the untouched vial of Wiggenweld and moved so you were planted directly between the two men, then pushed them both away from one another. The only reason you succeeded in moving either one of them was because they let you; you were well aware that you had no actual physical power over anyone in this room.

“Both of you need to calm the hell down,” you chided, narrowing your eyes at Sebastian. “All of this is irrelevant right now. You hate each other, congratulations. No one is going to force you to hold hands and sing Christmas carols anytime soon.”

“I think I’d actually pay coin to see that,” Devlin mused, and you shot him a stern look. Now was so not the time for snide commentary.

“Whatever,” Sebastian spat, moving back so your hand slid away from his chest. “Nothing has changed. I’m curing my sister, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

You let your other hand fall away from Ominis’ shoulder at the same time the Auror scoffed, waving Sebastian off with barely there interest. “You’re going to get everyone killed. This whole situation with the Poacher’s was just a taste of what’s to come. You’re dangerous, the people around you are dangerous, but you’re so desperate to further your own agenda that you refuse to acknowledge that fact.”

“This ‘situation’ will never happen again,” Sebastian vowed, a strange kind of guilt glimmering in his eyes when he fixed his gaze on you. “I still think we should kill Henri.”

“Of course you do,” Ominis said around a heavy sigh.

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Devlin chimed in again from the table, and you shot him a look that promised trouble if he kept up that line of thinking. “Ease up there she-demon, I’m not suggesting it to fit the stereotype of a kill-mongering Ashwinder. But Henri does know about Anne now, and I doubt he’s just going to sit on that information. He’s got plenty of reason to keep coming after Sebastian any way he can.”

Alright, maybe the old man had a point. But that didn’t mean you liked what you were hearing. As much as you wanted Henri dead for what he’d done, you also never wanted to set foot in that castle again. In all honesty, right now you just wanted a bath and some clean clothes. Maybe even one of those baked ham dishes you had eaten before being stolen away from the manor. Your brain was evidently still in survival mode, and your shoulders sagged as you realized how exhausted you still were from everything.

Sebastian caught the movement clear as day, his jaw hardening as he placed his hand on your upper back. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you tried to give him a reassuring smile, but you were certain it came across as more of a weak grimace. “Just tired. I really want to ditch these clothes.”

He looked over at Devlin then, who quickly stood to make his way over to you. Reaching inside his coat pocket, he produced your wand and held it out to you, and you moved faster than you had since waking up when you snatched it from his fingers. “Figured you’d want to whip up a new wardrobe and work off any of that magic of yours.”

He had no idea. “Thanks,” you said, meaning it more than he could ever know. “How long are we staying here?”

“Not sure,” Devlin admonished, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked to Sebastian for any input. The man in charge was still looking down at you, though, standing close enough that your shoulder brushed against his chest. In that moment, you were convinced a pack of Dugbogs could storm through and his focus would remain glued to you.

“Anne and I can’t stay long,” Ominis interjected. “She’ll need to get back to the hospital soon. She’s only here now because I didn’t want to leave her unattended in the city, but she needs to be with her nurses.”

You half expected Sebastian to protest, but he surprisingly kept his mouth shut. Maybe he was capable of logical thinking after all. The hand against your back applied gentle pressure, urging you towards the room you’d woken up in. “We’ll discuss everything later,” he eventually murmured. “Just don’t disappear in the next twenty minutes. I’ll be back.”

Ominis grunted noncommittally before peeling away from his rooted position near the table, his long legs carrying him over to the closed door on the far side of the inn. You watched as he knocked, waiting for permission to enter, then did exactly that. You wagered that that was where Anne was currently holed up, and you swallowed around the lump in your throat.

It was odd to find yourself here– wherever here was– surrounded by the people you had once been closest to. Well, save for Anne and Devlin, but Devlin was in a league of his own.

Sebastian leaned around you to push open the bedroom door, ushering you forward wordlessly before shutting the two of you in. You were once again at a loss for words, unsure of what to do or where to go with him breathing down your back. The fact that you couldn’t decide between embracing him or shying away from him didn’t help matters. He was still Sebastian, but… you couldn’t help but look at him in a new light. Henri had unintentionally skewed your opinion of the man you had feelings for, and the only way you were going to be able to push past it was if you talked about it.

Sebastian stepped sideways so he could plant himself in front of you, gingerly cupping your cheeks in his hands so he could tilt your head up towards him. Anxiety shone bright in his otherwise dark eyes, and he swept his thumbs over your cheekbones as he asked, “Are you really okay?”

You opened your mouth to say yes, because aside from the superficial damage done to your body, you were mostly unharmed. But your voice caught in your throat when you remembered the violating feeling of being placed under the Imperius Curse– the helplessness that had come with it leaving a mark on your psyche. You thought about the little mouse you had killed, and the countless nights you’d spent huddled up in the corner of your cell, trying and failing to retain warmth. Even though it was moot point now, you thought about how dejected you’d become when you eventually gave up hope that you would ever make it out of that blasted cage.

No, you weren’t okay. None of this was okay.

Blinking back the sting of tears, you let your head tip forward until it bumped against Sebastian’s chest, and he gathered you in his strong, capable arms without question. Just for a moment, you wanted the comfort. You didn’t want to hold your head up high. You didn’t want to push aside the injustices done to you, or think about what was going to happen after you left this place. You didn’t want to think about anything other than how safe and secure you felt wrapped in Sebastian’s arms.

He let you stay like that for a few minutes, your quiet tears seeping through his shirt and soaking into the fabric. Your hands had eventually come up to grip the front of his button-up, and it wasn’t until you felt the tip of your wand vibrating against your chin that you realized the appendages were trembling. Sebastian just continued to hold you, tenderly stroking his hand down the back of your head to smooth your matted hair out. The gesture was so gentle– so thoughtful and caring in a way that made you want to cry all over again– but it did remind you that you were in desperate need of a bath. There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that you smelled fierce.

Pulling out of his embrace, you kept your eyes downcast and took a hesitant step back. Sebastian let you move away, his brows furrowed with concern while he watched you. “Princess?”

“I probably stink,” you muttered numbly, licking the salty remnants of your tears from your lips.

The look he pinned you with was one of complete and utter disbelief. “That’s hardly the biggest issue here. You just went through something traumatic as hell. Do you want to talk about it?”

No. Yes. Maybe? “In a bit,” you relented. “I need to talk to you about something anyway, but I really want to clean up first.”

It seemed like he wanted to protest at first– the mention of ‘needing to talk to him’ making him go rigid. But then his eyes swept down your body once more, taking in your haggard appearance, the dirt on your clothes, and the lingering bruise that you knew still decorated the side of your face. After that, he reluctantly nodded. “I’ll go talk to the others. If you need anything, just call for me. I’ll be right outside.”

Nodding curtly, you watched as he absconded from the room, his feet dragging across the floor the entire way. You didn’t turn to watch him go, and you only exhaled and relaxed once you heard the rickety door creak shut completely. There was no easy way to broach the subject of what you’d discovered. If Sebastian really was under the influence of an Unbreakable Vow, there was no way he would be able to answer you truthfully. Hey, remember that guy that hunted me down during fifth-year and tried to kidnap and kill me with his crazy bald sidekick? Are you working for him?

Yeah, fat chance of that working.

Tightening your grip on your wand, you exhaled shakily and made your way to the bathroom. With any luck, this ramshackle inn actually had working plumbing. You knew you could use your magic if the tub you’d seen earlier was just for show, but there was something to appreciate about being able to simply turn a nob and be graced with warm, clean water. It was a homely feature that you didn’t think you would ever be able to go without again in your lifetime.

Devlin was right. You really had become spoiled.

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