#my way of writing my thoughts down must look odd sorry im ill

[rvby]

just like??? sorry my hc fox has such an obnoxiously loud howl of a laugh. like a (you hear it from across the way) laugh. and just had the idea of like. (gruesome injury) and just (panic) for snake until he hears foxs insane laughter in the midst of it and hes like i dont know what i expected (affectionate) please try to take this more seriously even if you are delirious from blood loss (failed step 1).

[divinesolas]

Distractions

Summary: Despite how close the two of you are you're sick of waiting around for Jace no matter how much you like him, so you decide you’re going out on a date! but he doesn't like that.

r.q: childhood friends to lovers with modern frat boy Jace and he's like rlly popular and known to go from girl to girl. reader is like really smart and different from Jace so people get surprised when they find out you two are really close. Jace is always dragging you to parties and you’re always at his football games and he gets really protective over you. idek where im going with this 😭 but w smut too, your fics are acc amazing ty for your work 🙏

w.c: 2.5k

c.w: reader has hair (unspecified type, could be a wig wtv), Jace's anger issues, idk what locker rooms look like, cregan <3, fingering (f!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), not proofread (as always)

a.n: I CANT STOP WRITING FOR JACE every request of him i get becomes my priority, literally when i woke up and saw this i had to get to writing it immediately like there’s smth wrong w me, anyways hope you all enjoy <3, this ones probably not my best T_T

Knocking on the door cuts through the music playing out of your speaker while your getting ready. “Come in.” you already know who it is. Your longtime best friend and housemate Jace who comes in with a smile on his face before it turns to shock as he looks you up and down, “woah.”

You finish clamping your necklace around your neck and look at him, “what do you want?” He leans against the door with his arms crossed with an amused look. you ignore how your heart flutters at him and turn away to adjust the dress you currently had on. “i just wanted to tell you im about to head out for the game, its a little odd to get all dressed up for a football game no?” The looks falls from his face as you drop your gaze from his in the mirror and fiddle around with your hair. he says your name breathlessly as he pushes away from the frame and takes a step into the room. You finally lift your head and meet his gaze in the mirror. “I'm not going to the game tonight Jace.”

He flinches as if you had thrown something at him and stutters for a moment his face covered in pure confusion as he brings one of his hands to his neck. “what do you mean you're not coming? you always come! if this is about me eating your leftovers then im sorry i thought you left it for me-” “i have a date.”

There it is. You didn't want to tell him. Hes always been, well a little protective of you, but you mostly blame it on your introverted personality while he's more of a people person. Youve had a crush on him for as long as you can remember but he's never been interested in you not the way you wanted him to be anyways, barely staying single or without a girl on his arm for a second you don't even know the girls names or maybe that's the point. He doesn't bring them around you but you know he's with them when he returns home super late with his hair all messed up. You fear he does it on purpose, he must know you like him and he doesn't bring them around you to make you upset.

You really didn’t want to tell him. You had thought maybe he would have just left for the pregame and just shot you a text and you could have faked some sickness or have pretended to go to sleep early. You walk over to your bed sit down grabbing your shoes to put them on. His silence is off putting. and you don’t dare raise your head to look at him.

“with who?” “This guy from lab, mark.” you finish lacing your shoes and stand up, finally looking at him and noticing the blank look on his face. “Jace-” “I don’t like this. i mean i don’t even know the guy how do we know he’s not some serial killer or something? Mark? Why don’t you just push it off for a couple days, come to the game and ill find out if he’d a good guy-” “I'm going whether you like it or not.” you cut him off. You couldn’t let him stop you from forgetting about him even if it was just for a bit. You grab your purse moving to push past him only for him to grab your arm. “Jace-” “You look beautiful.” The skin where he was holding you burns. You don't say anything as he lets you go and keeps his back turned to you. “text me?”

You try to ignore the pit that forms in your stomach at his sudden change of tone. you want to say something to him, you’re not used to seeing him like this. he would usually be pestering you about how you he asked you out or did you really like him but he was quiet. The sound of a horn outside brings you back to reality and you nod at his back as if he could see you and walk out. Putting on a fake smile as your handed a nice bouquet of flowers from mark, gulping to try and swallow the pit in your stomach.

—

“who the hell does this guy think he is?” His fist slams into the wall of lockers he's pacing in front of. All his gear is put on, his helmet is laying on the bench next to cregan who can only watch his best friend act like an idiot with an annoyed face. “Who the hell are you to care? Her boyfriend? No. So you have no say in it.” Jace bites his nails as he ignores the urge to hit the wall once more. “she’s my best friend.” “and? shouldn’t you be happy she’s on a date with this guy. i like mark he’s nice. what you like her or something?”

Jace ignores how is blood boils at the idea of you now sitting in your pretty dress smiling and giggling at some other guy that's not him. that doesn’t mean he likes you…. Jace attempts to come up with an excuse in his head about why he's so upset and why he's always been so upset over you going out with other guys, he usually just tells himself he's all worried about you and then he finds some girl to take you off his mind for the night…. that doesn't mean he likes you.

Cregan watches with a raised brow as Jace has an internal conflict with himself. He expected Jace to turn to him and admit it but all he does is grumble to himself and grab his helmet walking away from him. “I don't like her.” Cregan just shakes his head and picks up his own helmet following after him, “that fucking idiot.”

—

Mark is nice. Hes cute. He told you you could order anything you wanted off the menu since he was paying. He pays attention to you when you talk. Hes not Jace. You try your best to not think about him but you can’t help it. You wonder how the game is going, you’ve never missed one of his games. Maybe you pushed it too far and should have scheduled this date for a different day, but you know if you did Jace would have managed to convince you not to go and you would have fallen into the same cycle you always do. You nod your head and hum as mark tells you some story as you phone begins to buzz. You ignore it but it just keeps on buzzing to the point even mark looks concerned. “You can check it i don’t mind, ill use the restroom.”

You let out a hushed thank you as you check you phone to see what looked like a million texts from cregan.

‘hey i know the two of you are like fighting or wtv but you gotta see him asap.’

‘never seen him lose his mind like that’

‘got himself hurt’

‘nothing too bad but he’s bleeding’

‘know he thinks it cost us the game’

‘now he wont talk to any of us not even me’

‘think his head wasn’t in it’

‘know it’s not my place but he likes you so much’

‘losing his fucking mind over you not being here and being on some date’

‘please, for his sake at least try to talk to him, know you’re busy sorry to bother but I'm worried for him’

You stand out of your seat in shock as your heart begins to race. He was hurt? He likes you? Mark hadn’t come back yet so you open your purse and throw down some bills before running out of the restaurant. You sprint your way back to campus where the field was, thankfully living in a college town meant everything being super close by, you cant hear anything other than your own racing heart and the sounds of your feet as they slam on the floor.

You slam the hallway door open and cregan and some other guys look at you in shock. You stand there and take some steps towards cregan barely being able to catch your breath. Cregan stands up and looks at you shocked, “You ran here?” You just nod as you look at him expectantly, “where is he?” He uses his thumb to point behind him to the locker room doors, “Completely alone, everyone's already left.” You nod as the guys wish you good luck and leave.

You just stare at the doors for a moment, clarity finally hitting you as you realize how ridiculous it was you just left your date and ran all the way here. You couldn't just ignore cregans message. Pushing open the door its dead quiet other than the sound of running water. You walk slowly into the room the door closing behind you louder than you expected causing you to wince before you call out his name. He doesn't answer so you walk around the wall to where the showers were and you can see him outlined in the curtain and almost gasp but you cover your mouth to prevent anything from coming out.

“Jace?” His head finally snaps up due to your voice being so close and he looks in your direction, calling out your name softly in question. “I’m here.” “What are you doing here?” He turns off the shower and you turn your back incase he stepped out of the shower. You attempt to suppress the heat and want that fills your body as you imagine him naked before shaking your head, “Cregan texted, i was worried about you.” He just hums. You wish you could see his face but you hear the curtain open and the sound of him stepping out. “What about your date?”

You freeze as you clutch your purse tighter in your hands as you let out a deep breath. “What about it?” Hes suddenly standing so close to you you can feel his breath tickling your back and you gulp. “You’re here and not there, why?” One of his hands slides down your arm to grab your clenched hand as his forehead hits your shoulder, he's takes a deep breath as he awaits your answer. “Does it matter?” You don't want him to ask because you don't want to have to answer him. you don't want to have to admit to yourself you just wanted to be with him and nobody else.

“You wanna know why it matters? Because i was so fucking mad that you weren’t here i threw the fucking game and hit my head. because nobody makes me lose my mind like you do. Needed you here and you weren’t. You were out with some stupid fucking guy and i was so pissed.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder and you try to suppress the whimper that climbs its way up to your throat. “What are you saying Jace?”

His hands move to wrap around your waist and his head moves to your neck, You can feel his wet naked chest soaking the back of your dress and the heat of his breath on your neck “You know what, That i would go find a new girl to fuck because i couldn’t have you, that i think about you all the time because i like you so much, that it makes me sick when i think about you with a guy that's not me.” He begins to suck at your neck and you now do nothing to hold back the moan you let out as his grip moves to your hips pulling you back against him closer. “You mean it?” His hands slide down to the hem of your dress and he slides his hands under it and upwards pulling your dress up to poll around your hips, “of course i do baby, can i touch you?”

You let out a strained please and he pushes your underwear aside to run a finger down your slit letting out a groan, “fuck..” He quickly sticks two fingers into you and you fall back against him, withering under his touch as he moves at a rough pace, clearly very eager to please you and his other hand comes down from your hips to play with your clit. Your knees almost buckle from the amount of pleasure but he keeps you pressed tightly against him curling his fingers.

You swear he has magic powers because as you were right about to cum he pulls out of you and you whimper. He chuckles at your reaction and twists you around to face him, “want you to come around me.” He pulls you into a heated kiss as you two frantically pull off your dress, kicking it to some random corner of the locker room along with your underwear. “I don't have a condom.” You hear him swear and mumble to himself but you cup his cheeks to stop him, “I'm on the pill.” “It’s not the same-” “what are you not clean?” “of course i am-” “Then fuck me Jace.” He looks in your eyes for any signs of hesitation and when he doesn't find any he quickly pushes himself into you.

You feel like you can’t breathe, he pushes you against a nearby wall and feverishly pounds into you as his hands move to play with your tits. Hes talking but you can’t decipher what he’s saying so lost in your own pleasure. “fuck you feel so good fuck.” You tug on his hair and pull him to kiss you, your on the brink of release as the feeling of his thumbs rubbing on your nipples and the combination of the millions of emotions racing around you. You grip on his hair tightly and he groans, “You close?” You nod you head, “Wait for me.” You open your mouth to complain but his hips begin to move faster and his hands move to your hips to slam you closer to match his thrusts. “Want to come together.” His words are slurred as he’s approaching his release. Your hands scratch down his back as he groans in your ear, taking your ear and sucking on it.

“Come.” He breaths in your ear and you do, he hisses as he feels you pulse against him, your fluid completely covering him and he cant help but follow suit. He kisses you running his hands down your arms. As the two of you settle down he makes no move to pull out of you, seeming content within you.

“I'm gonna get a fucking earful from cregan.”

[yesimwriting]

Crossing lines

General Kirigan/the darkling x reader

Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha

a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!! 

-- 

Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread. 

But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing. 

Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly. 

General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed. 

The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds. 

I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way. 

When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night? 

I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark. 

I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan. 

Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer. 

I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.

“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty. 

I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.

“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.” 

I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.” 

He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.” 

And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?” 

Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.” 

I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down. 

I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”

He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.” 

There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting. 

“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit. 

Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?” 

The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.” 

He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” 

The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.” 

I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.” 

That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.

I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?” 

“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”

This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.” 

“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.” 

“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.” 

At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.

“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second. 

“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?” 

There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.” 

“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.

There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?” 

He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.” 

“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.” 

My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.” 

I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t. 

Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone. 

“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways. 

He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.” 

Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place. 

Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more. 

“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.” 

He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.” 

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.” 

The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his  hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.

He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me. 

“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches. 

His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.” 

“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.” 

If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.” 

“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.” 

...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.” 

“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.” 

His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him. 

The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact. 

“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.” 

I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not. 

He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…” 

“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?” 

His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.” 

“More than I should?” 

Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.” 

His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?” 

There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”

“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.” 

“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.” 

“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”

“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?” 

Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”

“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.” 

Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--” 

His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.” 

Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.” 

“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.” 

He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.” 

This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh. 

“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.” 

My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown. 

Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.” 

“Kirigan--” 

“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.” 

His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear. 

“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it. 

He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before. 

I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”

He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.” 

His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”

“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”

When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine. 

“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.” 

Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip. 

One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.” 

A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly. 

“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more. 

Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.” 

Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.” 

No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise. 

“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.” 

“I’ll tell the others, General.”

Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived. 

“I have to go.” 

Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.

He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.” 

Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--” 

“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.” 

This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?” 

“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.” 

My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible. 

 He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is. 

“Soon,” he promises again. 

--

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[mitts2002]

Aight’ Bet

Hi this is my first time posting on here so I hope whoever is reading this enjoys!! This is a noritoshi kamo x reader where the nori and (Y/N) need a little push from their wonderful Gojo sensei to finally confess~

"Dont you think (Y/N) and noritoshi would make the cutest couple!?" Gojo screamed over the phone to Utahime who sighed in response.

"I can't help but disagree Gojo, Noritoshi doesn't seem ready for a relationship plus is the only reason you rang me really to discuss our students non existent love lives?" Utahime retorted knowing that the couple would in fact be adorable yet refusing to accept that Gojo could actually be right about something.

"No Utahime! I bet if them two were able to spend a few hours together the tension would build up so high that one of them would burst and BAM a couple would be born" the blue eyed male replied, the volume of his voice increasing with each word trying to convince her that they were the highschool sweethearts the jujustu world needed.

“How could you even say that!? I get that its cute whenever they glance at each other and shy away with cute little blushing cheeks but i bet it would take more than a few hours for a whole relationship to-” “OH you bet“ Gojo interrupted an obvious smirk on his face knowing Utahime wouldn’t back down from his advances.

“you know what i meant idiot i wasn’t actually trying to make a bet with you especially after what happened last time” the black haired woman scoffed after hearing a chuckle through the phone.

“Aight’ bet! tomorrow ill bring my second years to kyoto for some training and then lets see if something happens between our precious students“ Gojo proposed excitedly as if he were a child in a sweet shop.

“you know what fine! and im only agreeing cause i know nothings gonna happen tomorrow between them i mean noritoshi is too stiff and (Y/N) always backs out last minute” utahime exclaimed not wanting to prove Gojo right. “GREAT! if i win then you will have to be my slave for 2 whole days and if you win ill be your-” “wait i never agreed to that!” “see ya tomorrow then!” Gojo had quickly rushed his farewells before hanging up relieved he avoided Utahime’s lecture.

"Alright class!" Gojo sensei yelled excitingly as he burst through the doors. This overgrown man child always had something new, it could never be a regular class where his students actually learn then were let out for a break. No Gojo Satorou had to be the most extra male on this earth and for the first time ever it worked in his second year student (Y/N)'s favour.

"What it is now?" Maki groaned with an annoyed expression on her face. No one could blame her though after all the blindfolded man put his beloved students through. "Don't be so sour maki! Be like me a sweet little mochi~ Oh and before I forget I wanted to let you all know that we will meeting with our lovely sister school for some training. Isnt that great!?" Gojo sensei had announced clapping his hands and smiling brightly.

'I wonder if training is all this is' (Y/N) thought to herself realising how sus this situation was before speaking out "wait Gojo sensei weren't we meant to learn a super secret technique today? You said that you were gonna show it us yesterday and that nothing could stop you" (Y/N) questioned as Inumaki gave a little "shake" for support.

"Well my dear (Y/N) something VERY important has come up and we must go to kyoto immediately. You have no right to deny and we will be leaving in 30 minutes so go grab whatever you kids need" Gojo sensei had practically sung before skipping out the door. What an odd man everyone collectively thought before getting up to grab whatever they needed.

30 minutes has passed and in that time panda had gathered his and maki's weapons while you and toge stocked up on cough medicine and basic medical equipment. The journey was short since Gojo had practically teleported you all there and all that was left was to approach the students.

A few figures from the distance were slowly coming into view and (Y/N) could vaguely make out that only utahime, miwa, mai, momo and noritoshi had attended this last minute joint training.

Despite the others reaching and gathering around your small group of second years giving their greetings the only thing your eyes could focus on was noritoshi’s thick black hair as it gently swayed in the breeze. Honestly it was as if the man was in a L'Oréal advert or something.

"(Y/N) stop staring we all know you both have this weird thing going on but we're here to train not flirt dumbass" Maki had whispered into your ear but little did she know that you were in fact here to flirt and not train due to a certain bet between two teachers.

“alright kids listen up! me and the wonderful Utahime sensei have set up this last minute training as its always good to train with new people and techniques. Everyone will be working in pairs“ Gojo announced before Utahime continued.

“The teams we decided on today will be Maki and Miwa, Momo and Imumaki, Panda and Mai then (Y/N) and Noritoshi. Eveyones free to do whatever they want in their sparring matches just don’t severely injure each other, me and Gojo will be watching over the matches and determine the winners“ Utahime informed all the students before they scurried off to in different spaced out areas.

"So Noritoshi how are you? Its been a while since we've last seen eachother" (Y/N) said trying not to let her nervousness show.

"I'm alright just studying and training to be honest. Although I recently started to practice cursive and can even write my own name now" he responded with pride and a small nice.

You laughed causing Noritoshi to cock his head to the side in confusion. "Is there something wrong with cursive?" His deep voice asked with clear offense.

"No no it's just that's so freaking cute and you look so happy about it too" (Y/N) teased with more laughter and ruffled his hair

"Oi don't touch my hair do you know how long it takes to do these wrap bang things?"

"Well how would I know I've never done them nori"

"Well one day I could teach you if you'd like" Noritoshi offered looking to the side trying to hide his red cheeks.

"Aww I'd love that I'm awful at doing hair to be honest so learning some new styles would be great but first we gotta get this dumb sparring match over and done with" (Y/N) moaned as she got into position.

_______________________________

An hour had flew by and the students were taking a break from their matches happily chatting away while the teachers spoke in private about their progress. “come on look at the way they look at eachother OH (Y/N) touched his shoulder SHES FLIRTIN-” “GOJO SHUT THE FUCK UP YOUR SO DAMN LOUD” “sorry but loooook they in love” Gojo cried out with fake tears in his cerulean eyes

“Alright lets just observe look theyre going to the vending machine to get some drinks like FRIENDS DO“ Utahime emphasised on the friends worried she might lose and become this awful mans slave for 2 days.

_______________________________

“Nori im gonna go get a drink from the vending machine do you want one?” “Actually ill just come with you if you dont mind” “OH sure thats fine does anyone else want anything!?” (Y/N) yelled to the whole group receiving a choir of get me this please or get me that and the single tuna mayo.

The walk to the vending machine was quiet but a comfortable silence had fallen upon the pair. It was always like this when you were around Noritoshi Kamo. Peaceful. She didnt feel the need to go the extra mile to entertain him or ensure he wasn’t bored in your presence as your playful banter and sarcastic remarks towards one another was enough for the both of you. 

“(Y/N) is it me or have Gojo and Utahime sensei been staring at us more than the others?“ Noritoshi questioned unable to shake off the feeling of being watched. “Um i’m not too sure i havent been really paying attention to anything other than yo-“ Embarrasment washed over (Y/N) as the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

“Is that so?“ Nori smirked slightly as you swore you could drop dead right here in this moment. “No i just meant that” “Meant what?“ Noritoshi interrupted leaning closer as you fumbled through your words

“OH LOOK the vending machine is right there better get those drinks“ You quickly said and scrambled away before Noritoshi could get any closer.

“SEE Nori was too intimidating and (Y/N) ran off despite clearly wanting him! its never gonna happen today“ Utahime whispered to Gojo benhind the bushes as he shook his head. “Trust me i have faith in my wonderful (Y/N) I AINT RAISED NO BITCH“ He exclaimed in response while Utahime facepalmed.

The two young adults had collected all the drinks they needed and were ready to walk back to the group. ‘come on (Y/N) you’ve liked this man forever now and everyone knows he must like you back ITS NOW OR NEVER HOE’ (Y/N) screamed words of encouragement to herself before grabbing Noritoshi’s sleeve.

“Is everything alright (Y/N)?” “I have something ive been meaning to tell you Nori, I um like you a lot and i’d like to take you out if you dont mind” (Y/N) had practically yelled at the poor boy because of her stupid nerves and adrenaline.

The silence was broken by an angelic laughter coming from none other than Noritoshi Kamo. “Well i would’ve liked to be the one to take you out but i guess sometimes its alright for traditions and stereotypes to be broken by the younger generation” Nori responded as he walked closer to (Y/N) wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a sweet kiss. The kiss was messy and clearly new to the both but filled with much love and passion that was finally being expressed by the pair.

As their lips eventually pulled away never wanting this to end, heavy breaths filled the air and cheeks flushed but all that was interrupted by a white haired male clapping in the background screaming “YES I WIN” while the other teacher crouched to the ground tears in her eyes.

[squishy-mochi-is-bright-pink]

hi! uh—sorry if this is confusing, it’s my first time making a request. uhm—i’ve just been feeling rlly down lately and was considering self harm. so, if it’s okay with u, can i request for tsukishima/sakusa/osamu (u can choose if doing all is too much) seeing their s/o with a fear of sharp objects about to self harm but not going through with it and them comforting their s/o? u dont have to do it tho if ur not comfortable with it, i just wanted to try asking :)

Characters: Tsukishima and Sakusa

CW: self harm, sharp objects

Genre: comfort

Word count: 1, 616

Summary: You've been struggling with thoughts of self harm, which then lead you to a fear of sharp objects. Your boyfriend notices and tries his best to help you.

A/n: your request wasn't confusing at all, don’t worry. So sorry I didn't get around to writing Osamu but I hope this is alright. if you ever need someone to talk to im here, or you could request as much or as little as you want. Just remember self harm isn't the answer, alright? Remember you're loved <3

Tsukishima

Okay, so even though everyone says that Tsukishima doesn’t care or isn’t a good boyfriend to you that is a big fat lie and you know it. This boy is super observant. ESPECIALLY when it comes to you.

You’re his baby and the love of his life, and one way he shows his love to you is by paying attention to everything you do and acting accordingly. He’s usually subtle about it though. You shiver? Oh, look extra hoodie. Tense up when one of your classmates approaches the two of you? Oh no something came up with the team and you’re both required to solve it.

Slight rant aside, he notices immediately that something is wrong. It may take him a little bit to figure out what exactly but he’s looking into it immediately. By the end of the day, he’s checked with your friends if anything is bothering you, he’s found out whether or not you are behind on work or if school is stressing you out. But nothing.

Luckily for him, it was Friday, thus, he was coming over to your house after school (practice). Usually, he’d come over and do some homework then you’d watch a movie together and honestly you could use some affection right now.

When he arrived at your house you were already showered, dressed and waiting at the table to start your homework. He came in and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and sat down across from you, he’d already changed into casual clothes after practice.

Tsukishima exalted deeply for the first time that day and let himself relax now that he was alone with you. He’d spent his entire day trying to figure out what was up since you’d been acting weird for a little while now and he was back to square one. Nobody he’d asked knew anything that might have upset you, and he’d asked a lot of people. More accurately he’d asked Yamaguchi to since he knew people found Tadashi less intimidating. However, he still hadn’t had any luck in narrowing down the issue.

You seemed to be focused on whatever work you where doing so he decided to do some of his own work and ask you about it during the movie. He pulled out his maths book and a pencil from his pocket to begin working on the algebra homework.

After around thirty minutes of working together with some lofi playing in the background and occasionally asking for help from one another, his pencil lead snapped in the middle of an equation. Slightly irritated, he went to his bag to retrieve a sharpener but couldn’t find his pencil case. Shit, he must have left it in his desk. Oh well, he won’t need it till Monday anyway.

  “Hey, Shortcake,” that stupid nickname he’d gave’ you made you look over to him “do you have a pencil sharpener? My pencil case is at school.” At the mention of a sharpener, you squeaked out no far too quickly. Okay, somethings up. He’s sure of it now. 

So he gently set down his pencil and placed one of his hands on yours. When you looked up and made eye contact you could see how concerned he looked. Though it isn’t just concern, there’s something soft and loving there too. It’s because of this that you just aren’t able to break the eye contact, even though you’d much rather check your house slippers for bits of dust. 

“Baby,” he starts softly, “I know somethings up. You’ve been different for a few days now. And as long as you’ve been in my class you’ve never forgotten your stationary. Do you want to talk about it? Or we could do something else if you want.” By now there were tears beginning to slowly roll down your cheeks and Kei had gotten up to wrap you up in a hug. “Come one baby.” he says as he guides you over to the couch to sit down.

Once he had you settled in beside him he started to rub gentle circles on your back and waited patiently for you to calm down enough to talk to him. Once you had calmed down a little you began to explain everything. From the thoughts of self-harm to avoiding anything sharp or dangerous just in case. And he just sat there and listened. All the while gently rubbing circles and patterns into your back. He listened to every word you said and took it all in making sure to give little nods or hums of acknowledgement, enough to let you know he was listening without interrupting you.

When you’d finally finished telling you everything he simply scooped you up in his arms and hugged you as tight as he could. “Baby, Y/n. I’m so proud of you. You’re so strong and I’m so glad you didn’t do anything.” he gently kissed the top of your head and whispered, “I love you so much.�� 

You snuggled further into him and he turned the tv to your comfort movie, even if he didn’t love it or would much rather watch a documentary about dinosaurs.

Sakusa

Sakusa is another boy who people wrongly assume is a bad partner. I object. Although he is slightly more hesitant when it comes to physical affection in public he’s one of the best boyfriends you could ever ask for.

Generally, when the two of you hang out he has a routine to ensure there is no fear around germs and he can be as affectionate as he wants. You both take showers and change into freshly washed clothes when you arrive at either home before you spend time together.

Because of how naturally observant this boy is, and the number of showers he’s had to take at your house he has your shower products almost memorised. He knows what they are, what they do and where they go. Honestly when you’re running low on something he’s more likely to notice than you are. And of course, being the loving boyfriend he is, he’ll remind you to add it to your shopping list or even go shopping with you.

This mans love language is probably quality time or acts of service, so if there’s an opportunity to give you a hand or just spend time with you he’ll take it.

Today was just another day, well not exactly, Sakusa was coming to spend some time with you today, which honestly was not rare at all. You had both fallen into a steady routine of taking showers and changing before spending time together. He would never ask you to do it but you knew it made him more comfortable. Plus he far preferred your shower to the locker room one.

So as always he walks into your house, puts his bag on the table and walks to your bathroom to take a shower. When he’s in the shower he notices that your razor is missing from its normal spot. He thought that was a little bit odd. Mostly because he has never seen your razor missing before. Any time he noticed something was missing before it was always just running low on shampoo, or body wash or only having one bar of soap left.

It isn’t that weird so he just makes a note to himself to remind you about it later like he always does. Once he’s finished and changed into his favourite sweats and second favourite hoodie (you’re currently wrapped up in his favourite). He goes to your room and curls up beside you as you’re preparing to put on a movie.

By the time Sakusa had remembered what he needed to remind you of the movie had been playing for around 20 minutes. So he decides to just wait until after the movie to bring it up. With that decision made he just decides to focus on the movie and how you feel giving him cuddles.

After the movie was all finished and you and Omi where cleaning up, when he brought up the missing razor. “Hey baby, remember to add razors to your shopping list. Yours is missing” he mentioned as he placed your throw pillows back on your bed. He paused in the middle of fixing your pillows, that was not the reaction he expected. Something was up. When he turned around and saw you near tears he rushed over to check on you.

“Baby, talk to me whats wrong?” hes says in the most soothing voice he can muster when he reaches you. You dont respond, just crying a little harder and hugging him back. “Its,” you sniffled a little, “its nothing Omi. Ill be fine” you sniffled again trying desperately to pull yourself together.

Sakusa pulled out the handkerchief he kept for you in his pocket. And by the time you'd told him everything he was crying too holding you. "it's gonna be alright baby. I'm here, we're gonna get through this together."

You fell asleep holding together, knowing that you weren't alone. And wouldn't be as long as you have him and he isn't leaving any time soon

[justoneday-namjoonii]

forgive me

anon request: “I really love the way you write angsty stuff so if u want, can u write a scene where jungkook is like involved in illegal stuff like drugs or maybe he's a hitman, Y/N and Jungkook have a conflict about that because she's not happy with what he does, he gets hurt a lot but he enjoys his job and doesn't wanna give it up cuz he loves the thrill. It can be an emotional scene where Y/N tells him that she's afraid of losing him because of what he does. Honestly come up with anything, I don't mind 😂”

prompt: Jungkook is a druglord, you’re a waitress at a shabby burger place. He loves what he does and even though you try to ignore it, it scares you. You fear you’ll lose him if he doesn’t quit and he’s all you have. Your so called family are full of lies and if it wasn’t for Jungkook, you don’t know where you’d be. You wonder every night if the sirens you hear are for him—you pray it’s not for him. Secretly, he feels the same about you.

pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: angst, drabble, mental health issues, mentions of murder, mature subject matter

author’s note: For the anon who requested this, this is for you! I hope you enjoy~ did i watch Truth be Told and decide to make the OC a twin? yes, yes i did

When you opened your eyes, you started to feel around for your cellphone. When you couldn't feel for it, you rolled over and yawned, it's probably under the bed. That's where its gonna stay too. As soon as you got home from work, you fell face-first into your bed and taking a shower was the last thing on your mind. But now you're feeling the stale department store smell on your clothes. It takes about two minutes for you to roll out of bed and realize you that Jungkook should have been here by now. You grab your phone and see two missed calls and a text from 2 hours ago.

jungkook💖💫: im sorry ill be over a little later baby, something came up 

jungkook💖💫: i miss you angel

You smile, he always misses you. And you miss him too, but you know he's probably out there in the slums of the city, doing what he does. How you lucked out with him, you have no idea. One night you were trying to call an Uber to get home from a birthday party at the club. It was around midnight and you had to work so you couldn't hang with the hardcore crowd. You went outside to call for a ride but you were being watched. Some guy kept catcalling, just outright harassing you. It was the scariest night of your life. You were telling him to leave you alone but he was drunk or high, either way, he wasn't all there. He snatched your phone. Just when you thought he was going to grab you, a black sports car, one you would have had to work two lifetimes to afford, stopped at the light. And before you know it, the man trying to get you is being dragged into the alley where he probably would have taken you. You remember being frozen, all you could hear was cursing and blunt force. The mystery man, whose car is still in the middle of the road, emerges from the dark corner between the buildings.

You were completely taken. The smile, the hair, the tattoos, and dangling earrings, paired with a striking gaze—he was an angel. He was so beautiful and he was just looking at you stand there with your mouth open.

"If there's one thing I hate, oh here you go," He hands you your phone and you get a nice look at his hand tattoo, "it's motherfuckers who can't leave women the fuck alone. Sorry you had to deal with that, but he won't be bothering you or anyone else after tonight, or use his hands again," He sighs, fixing his clothes a bit and wiping the blood from the corner of his lip, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, thank you," You slip the phone in your bomber jacket pockets, "not a lot of people would stop a stupid guy from bothering a girl they don't even know."

"Yeah, I'm Jungkook by the way," He introduces himself with a smile, situating his nice clothes, "do you- Um, did you need a ride? I'm not a creep I swear," He holds his hands up in surrender when you furrow your brows at the suggesting—great, now she thinks I'm a pervert. 

"I didn't stop that guy as blackmail to get laid, I just-" He pauses to grapple for the right words, "I saw you just standing on the curb and I know it's not safe out here-"

"If it's not any trouble," You interrupt his rambling, "I live about 15 minutes away, I was gonna call a ride but if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it. My name is Y/n, by the way."

That night changed your life forever. It was the first time you had wanted to kiss a stranger, the first night you ever came close to a soulmate. He confesses to having seen you in the club, he was at the bar, refusing offers from every girl from the bartenders to cougars out on the town, at least that's what you always thought. In that little fifteen minutes, you got to know very little about him but you felt so comfortable sharing things about yourself when he asked. He dropped you off and said if you ever needed anything, to give him a call. 

You never got to use the number because you ended up seeing him again. He showed up to your job, but he wasn't there for you, he was there for one of your money laundering and pill-popping associates. You were taking a break and for some reason, the break room was eerily empty. After you heard gunshots and the whole store went into chaos. You remember trying to leave and suddenly being swept away and into an outside electrical room apart of the building. You calmed down enough to realize that it was him but you were baffled.

"What're the odds that you would work at the same place as that bastard," He fiddles with the gun, tucking it to his side and flipping on the safety and pulling off his mask with a toothy grin, "do you remember me?"

"You?... Jungkook, how did you- Why are you-..." You make a small step back and swallow, scrambling to think of something to say. "Have you been following me like some creep?!"

"No! this is just a run-in by fate, I swear I didn't plan it. I'm not even supposed to still be here but I couldn't just leave, not without saying something to you."

"Okay...What do you want to say? I have to get back on the clock." You look him up and down, his all-black clothes and heavy boots intimidating but alluring in many ways.

"Wanna grab a coffee?"

For some reason, you said yes to the familiar stranger.

"Sure- I mean no! No, I can't Jungkook, I have to get back to work-"

"Trust me, just come with me," He extends his hand for you to take and smiles, "you won't regret it."

You took his hand and never looked back.

* * *

Nights like this.

When it's too early to ruin his life and too late to pretend like he wouldn't care. So when he shows up to the lounge to enforce an unpaid debt from a client, he leaves with bruised knuckles, two grand, and a rush of adrenaline. He went a little hard on the guy, but can you blame him? He messed up his plans. Tonight is date night, also known as 'crash at your place' night. It worked out though, you had to work late so he wouldn't be too tardy. Judging by the fact that you haven't answered your phone, you must be knocked out.

He slips his hand into his pocket and fumbles with his keys until he finds the one to your apartment. When he walks inside he hears the sink on and smiles to himself, you must've just woken up. 

"Baby, it's me," He announces himself, "how was your day?"

"Fine," You step out in your work clothes, still trying to get your earrings out, "as fine as a day working for the devil could be." 

"That bad?" You take note of the silk black shirt that's rolled up to his elbows, letting you see his beautiful sleeve of tattoos. When he comes dressed like this, and smelling like smoke you know he's been out into high-end clubs. The way some of the women look at him makes you feel small and a little self-conscious. But he always reassures you that you're who he wants, not some woman who sees him as an experimental one-night stand. When he tells you to meet him in the restroom because he needs to tell you something, you're reminded that you're all he wants.

"She screwed the schedule. My only day off was taken because her favorite, Kasey, has to go out of town."

He unbuttons the buttons on his shirt with deliberate fingers. "You walked out on a job for me before, remember that?" He smiles, letting his shirt fall from his shoulders like a dream. A bruise on his upper arm catches your attention but you don't say anything. "If you're not happy, just leave. I can take care of you, you can be my sugar baby."

"Yeah, my step-mom would love that, I could see it now," You cringe at the thought, "Hey, just a heads up, I'm not working or married but I have a sugar daddy who pays all my bills and lets me use his money for free, oh, he's also a drug lord. She'd really think highly of me then." 

"Fuck Carol, she's a judgmental priss anyway," He comes up to you, hands finding your waist, "why do you care what she thinks about you?" 

"I don't care what she thinks, but if she finds out she'll tell my dad and I don't want to hear it from him. If he pretends to not be disappointed by the lesser-twin one more time, I'll actually cuss him out...He's such a liar, he lied to my mom and he lies to me.”

"Quit saying that," Jungkook grabs you under your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist so he can sit on the edge of your bed, "you're not the lesser-twin, you're the cute and sexy twin." You sit back on his thighs and you both laugh at his attempt to lighten your mood.

"Well, I'm not a successful surgeon and I'm broke as hell, but at least my boyfriend thinks I'm cute." His hands find their way to the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, revealing a disappointing tank top.

"See, this is disappointing. Why are you wearing a tank top? It's a hundred degrees outside." He sighs, looking up at you like a pouting little kid.

"Because I want to," You grin, brushing his hair from his brows, revealing a scratch, "you're cut."

"Yeah, had a run-in with an old friend, we're obviously not friends anymore."

"You should take me with you on these deals and stuff, I'd make a great bodyguard for you," You joke, "if you showed me how to use a gun."

"You?" He giggles at the image of you secretly acting as a bodyguard, a dagger, and a gun in a garter under a skintight dress. "That's not a bad idea, they'd be too distracted looking at how fucking beautiful you are to see you as a threat."

"Yeah, I always saw as the Bonnie & Clyde type of couple," He leans up to kiss you and you smile through it before he pulls away, "eh, you need to shower, you smell like weed."

He furrows his brows, a snarky smile on his mouth. "And you smell like French fries, but I still kissed you.”

"Touche." You can't argue with that, the French fries smell gets to you too.

He picks you up, carrying you to the bathroom with a beaming smile.

"Let's shower then."

 * * *

A deal went bad, he got grazed by a bullet and spent a few hours at the emergency room.

When he pulled in to the driveway and saw your car, he sighed in relief—he was hoping you'd come. After work, you had come by earlier to clear your head and take a breather from your cramped apartment and rowdy neighbors. Ever since his 'new position' he was put up in this huge mansion, equipped with a full staff. Luckily, they were off tonight so no need to keep quiet.

It's getting late and you've been trying to watch a baking show to stay awake but it was getting difficult. He hadn't called or answered any of your calls or texts. When you hear the garage door open, your heavy lids lift and you yawn, trying to wake up so you can tell him how your day has been.

He opens the door with a deep sigh and he's glad you can't see the thick white bandage on his upper arm and tired shadows under his eyes because of the dim lights. "Jungkook, it's so late..." You mumble, sitting up. "what took you so long?"

"Yeah, baby, I just had a mix up with someone who owed the group a lot of money, they, uh- They opened fire and we had a lot to clean up." He offhandedly mentions that and goes to the bathroom to change and you just wait for him.

The painkiller is wearing off but he manages to brush his teeth and slip into some sweats and a t-shirt. After flicking the light switch off, he falls into bed with a heavy exhale. Glad to finally have him close so you can tell him about your terrible day, you turn to hug him, and instantly a wince of pain leaves his mouth. 

"Sorry," You giggled, thinking he was just kidding until you see the bandage on his arm, "Oh my gosh," You sit up, hand reaching for his bandage with concern in your brows, "what happened?"

"It's nothing baby, I was grazed by a bullet and had to go to the ER," He spares you a weak grin, hand rustling through his damp locks, "but it's nothing, I feel fine."

It's always nothing to him. You lean down and place a gentle kiss on his forehead, one he would normally place on you. Nights go by and you know he's out there risking his life, not thinking how devastated you would be if one night he doesn't come back.  

He caresses the apple of your cheek, lips parting when sits up to try to kiss you, but you pull away.

"Hey, I've had a long day I just want to kiss you," He sits up now, "talk to me." 

"Talk to yourself, I'm going to sleep."

"Where the fuck is this coming from?" He glares at you, tone firmer than before. "Y/n, cut the crap. What's the problem?"

"Jungkook, there's no problem I just worry about you."

"I don't mean to make you worry," He speaks softly, "but you know this is what I do, I can't stop now, even if I wanted to."

"I know," Sadly, "but you're all I have."

He tilts his head, a bit confused. "What happened?"

"My sister called when I got off of work. My dad isn't doing well, his liver is in terrible condition and he needs a transplant...He's on a wait-list now." 

Knowing the severed relationship you have with your family, he treads lightly when requesting this. "Do you want to go see him?-"

"No!" You snap. "Why would I want to see him? This is what he gets for killing my mother."

"Y/n, you don't mean that..." Jungkook gets uncomfortable when you enter that head-space, you become ruthless in your words and your eyes glaze over with something he has yet to understand.

"Why not? It's true. He was cheating on her, that's why he never came home and she thought something was wrong. So drove out in the middle of the night during a storm and ended up crashing into a tree, because of him. My sister has always defended him, but I think it's because she didn't like mom either...The two of them may have cried at the funeral but I know them, they were glad she left us. That's why I need you, Jungkook, I don't have them or want them..."

"Y/n, you have to learn to forgive them for whatever you think they did, it's going to drive you insane if you don't...Fuck them, spend your energy on us, okay?"

"I'm already insane, I'm with you, aren't I? You come close to being killed every week, and it bothers me to think you might not come home...But I'll go through that if it means I get to have you, I love you, I only love you..." You lay your head on his shoulder.

He’s your angel.

You aren’t sure what you are to him.

[floatinginwords]

Saved by the Devil (7/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: You have a talk with some friends and get a little job offered

Paring: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (Not romantic...yet)

A/n: this took me so long to write. I hope you like it. Have a wonderful day:)

You walked through the streets on London feeling lost and uneasy. The state record of your father was there, written officially: he was declared dead. You felt like you were going crazy for not even trusting the piece of evidence. You asked the secretary about a million questions about how they even go about certifying a death. The woman looked at you as if you were crazy and you probably looked it. None of the cuts were healed, parts of your face were beginning to bruise, and the stich on your hand was horrendous. At least you didn’t reek of alcohol. It bothered you that the certificate under cause of death read “suicide”. You distinctly remember Sabini tell you that your father had got himself killed.

 ‘Why stage it like a suicide and then tell the underworld you killed him? Couldn’t you have just paid the cops to look the other way?’ A million more questions swarmed your way non of which the secretary could answer.

 And so you left the place walking slowly back home feeling odd. Dead is dead right you don’t need the details. You don’t want them. You tell yourself this as you get home, telling yourself that the uneasy feeling was from the physical night before not because someone was watching you.  

 ‘I’m not safe staying here’ You think to yourself. You start fantasizing about all the different places you could disappear to, the new life you could create for yourself. You just needed enough money to so. That wad of cash underneath your bed was good for a boat ride and hotel stay, not for entire life change. You were gonna need to start saving and earning, more fast. The air was changing and not for the better.

 Once you get home, you can see a lamp on in the window. You try to walk past the figure sitting in the living room, but their voice rings out stopping you from making another move.

 “(Y/n), we need to talk.” Ada says.

 “What about?” you ask sitting opposite of her in the living room.

 “Its about Tommy,” she pauses a minute trying to gauge your reaction, you don’t give any. She sighs, “I just want you to be careful around him.”

 You raise an eyebrow, confused from where this is coming from. “What do you mean?”

 “I mean are you gonna keep coming home looking half dead with my brother having to carry you in here with no sort of explanation?”

 “I’m sorry about that.” You apologize knowing she must have been scared out of her mind seeing you like that. You would have been too had it been her or Trinity.

 “What are you even thinking working for him? Didn’t you want out of your father business, aren’t you on some guys shit list?” Ada takes a deep breath calming herself.

 “I have it under control.” You can hear Ada groan in frustration. You understand why she was so defensive about this. Her family was dangerous and to be around them was like being around death itself. At least that’s how Ada put it.

 “No you don’t just look at yourself!” She sternly says, pointing a finger at you.

 You stifle a laugh from your throat at how motherly she looks, “Ada, please save the parenting for Karl.”

 She rolls her eyes at your jest and gets up from the couch. “Are you gonna work for him again?”

 “If I need the money...”

 “I told you don’t have to pay rent while you stay here. You can take as long as you need to find steady job.”

 You fake a smile and nod your head, “You’re right.” You didn’t want to bring up the unease you’ve been feeling. Or the need to flee the country based on a little paranoia that may just go away. It was unfair to her to place  this burden upon her when she's finally made it out of feeling that way herself. But you’ll be damned if you weren’t gonna at least prepare yourself for the uncertain future.

  *******************************************************************************************

Trinitys apartment was the same as it always has been. Neat to the point where it looked picture perfect. You always wondered when she had the time to keep tidy. You arrived early in the morning, knowing she would be up and that it would be the perfect time to cross into what you thought was still sabinis territory.

 “You know your friend took over the Eden Club. I haven’t seen any of Sabini guys in awhile” Trinity says attempting to ease you as you keep looking out the window.

 “who?”

 “The Shelby’s. I think it was his brother or whatever. I wasn’t there when it happened but I heard it was brutal.”

 “What did sabini do?” You ask.

 “no one heard from him or Alistair.” She states

 “Hmm.” You say finding it odd the gangster hadn’t retaliated yet

 “You know you can maybe work there again? If you asked nicely? The Shelby’s seem to like you.”

 “What makes you say that?”

 “Oh please I was the first person ada called to tell me about you running off with her brother. Did you know they were related?”

 “No.”

 She notices your lack of words. And though trinity wanted to be playful and tease her friend, she was worried.

 “Are you okay, (Y/n)?”

 “Im thinking of leaving, trinity.” You say

 “Why? Where are you going?”

 “Nowhere. Im just thinking.” You sip your tea lightly, feeling the soothing warmth go down your throat, “Something feels wrong.”

 “What is it?”

 “I fear that something nefarious is upon me. And that it’s a matter of time before It decides to kill me.”

 “You’re not gonna tell me, are you?”

 “I need your help planning.” You say ignoring her questions. You didn’t want to subject her to your nightmares about your father which haven’t ceased at all. In face they were increasing in violence and color. Most of them drawing from memories. If it wasn’t your father that was alive coming to hunt you down, it was most likely a dedicated servant of his. You wondered who was was keeping the business going seeing as you didn’t take over and were the only child of your father. You had no other logical explanation of what the universe was trying to tell you with these dreams and gut feelings.

 You open your purse revealing the wad of money from underneath your bed and papers of different id. “Your gonna hold this for me. When I need it ill come for it, if I add to it ill come here okay? Just make sure it stays hidden and untouched.”

She nods and takes it gently from your hands, “You’re being serious.”

 “Deadly.”

 You stood for a couple more hours, talking and eating until the afternoon came. You said your goodbyes and were on your way back on the streets of London. You felt good about yourself after seeing Trinity. It felt like years since you seen her.

 You hear the honking of an annoying horn bring you out of your thoughts. You see Tommy Shelby behind the wheel, a cocky grin on his face. He parks the car and you wait for him outside not wanting to sit in close proximity of him. He comes around, outing a cigarette loosely around his pink lips. He doesn’t light it.

 “I was looking for you at Adas.” He says standing in front of you with hands in his pockets.

 “Hmm why?” You ask.

 “How are your stiches?”

 “Fine,” your face grows warm as you think about the drunken thoughts you had about him. You had them caged up this time but you were now very aware of the fact that you had them, “what is that you want?” you ask avoiding his eyes, afraid of getting lost in them. You could not afford to grow any sort of attachment to the man. The stories you’ve heard, the warning you’ve gotten from his own sister, you know that he was no good.

 “Take a ride with me.” He simply says walking away from you.

 Your legs move before you think. Following his words like a sailor would a siren. You suddenly felt very self conscious around the man as you sat near him.

 “Where is this coming from?” You think to yourself feeling stupid you begin to argue with yourself in your head trying to find the soure of this new unwanted attraction. Maybe you were still drunk. No its been days. Or maybe you were tired. Sleep has been hard to comeby these days.

 You look across at him and study his features. He was a very handsome man, no doubt about it. You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until he catches you.

 “What?” He asks

 “Have you called May?” Your not sure why your mind went to that but it was.

He chuckles, “Are you really that interested in that?”

 “No, im just making conversation.”

 “Well I did. Ill be seeing her later this week. See how shes training my horse.” He sends a smile your way before his eyes go back to the road.

 The smile sends your stomach doing flips. “You know your not as scary as people make you seem, Mr.Shelby.” Another statement slipping from your lips.

 “Trust me, I can be scary. Hand me that file”

 He parks the car in front of lovely looking house, a guard standing outside the gates of it. You hand him the file, next to you on the seats and he fiddles through it. You stare at the house with the guard in front of it through the rearview mirror.

 “Why are we parked here?” You ask you eyes trained to the rearview mirror

 “Had to make a stop.”

 You see the guard notice the car and head towards you. He walks toward your window and leans in. “Sir,” The guard says totally ignoring your presence, “You cant park here.”

 “Apologies, me and the Mrs. were just lost.”

 “Well get a move on.” Thomas starts the car and moves it one block a way before parking again. He checks his watch.

 “23 seconds,” He say to himself writing it down, “Are you gonna ask any questions?”

 “I think I would rather leave this one alone.”

 “Smart girl.”

 You end up driving 2 more hours around the city. He tells you about the Eden club takeover and how his brother Arthur is now running the game there. Sabini hasn’t been seen inawhile. Nor his most trustworthy comapnions

 “Do you know Alfie solomons?” He asks

 “I do.” Alfie Solomon’s to you was an unpredictable man, You never could predict what he was gonna say.

 “I was gonna have Arthur have dinner with him alone. But Arthur doesn’tknow Solomon’s too well.”

 “Mr. Shelby-“

 “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need to.” His eyes burn into your skull. You take all the self control you have to not turn your head and stare into them.

 You think about the proposition and grow very hesitant. A part of you wants to take it and another part doesn’t. Quick money could be very useful to you but at what cost if its for situations like this. A dinner with gangsters could become deadly very quickly with one wrong move.

 “When is this dinner?”

 “Friday.”

 “Ill give you answer before than” You say seeing it was Tuesday. You open the door to the car and walk out of it. You were beginning to suffocate under his stare and you needed to breath.

 The air was crisp and refreshing to your lungs as you speedy walk down the streets making lefts and rights. The annoying horn returns to your ears as soon as you feel calm. You turn back around to scream when you realize its not the same car. It’s a black car with weird, tinted window, almost like a police car. The windows roll down, revealing a man with grey, busy eyebrows and mustache. His eyes held an evil glint in them

 (Y/fn) (y/ln)?” He asks do it looked like he already knew the answer in his head that he knew who he had.

 “Sorry wrong gal.” You lie turning around to get out for whatever situation that was.

 “Get her boys.” You hear the man sigh. You feel large hands grab around your body and large funny smelly napkin forced against your mouth.

 ‘Chloroform’ you think as you pass out into the darkness.

Read pt.8

Tags

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @evelyn-4034

[consumeconstantly]

Small Buff Girl Sightings Ch. 5

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ao3

3:00AM | CoffeeVamp: bb bat update us TheOG: ^^ more info on the situation in paris

3:28AM | Demonspawn: It is difficult to obtain information on Hawkmoth. The butterflies disperse after they are cleansed, and before they land their target, they don’t show up electronically.  Coffee Vamp: o how the mighty have fallen i thought u said u could best me bb boi

3:42AM | Demonspawn: I’d like to see you do better. Coffee Vamp: IS THAT A CHALLENGE Coffee Vamp: ill take u up on that gimme 24 hours and ur going down TheOG: he has had a whole month so dont be too sure of that LadyLady: would you guys SHUT UP its two and some of us have jobs to do Coffee Vamp: cmon babs u luv us dont deny it LadyLady: Don’t make me hunt you down, Tim. Coffee Vamp: oOooO proper punctuation im shaking TheOG: just shut off notifications Babs TheOG: Bruce does Jesus: i don’t think the man has checked this chat in years Coffee Vamp: wdym brucie checks the chat all the time hes just a silent lurker Coffee Vamp: he doesnt even set himself to invisible

3:57AM | Daddy is away. Coffee Vamp: im so glad i have admin privileges imagine if i didnt bruce would have a boring normal nickname like his actual name LadyLady: good lord, why am I even in this chat?? Daddy: You’re supposed to keep them under control. Coffee Vamp: SEE I TOLD U BRUCE IS A SILENT LURKER> THIS. IS. SOLID. PROOF. IN YOUR FACE TheOG: nobody said otherwise Coffee Vamp: also how are the people have you made friends Jesus: Demon spawn? Making friends? Id be less surprised if he told us he has a new fling Coffee Vamp: is j right? Got a winter fling? 

4:12AM | Coffee Vamp: ur lack of a response tells us nothing  TheOG: im sure he’s just adopted his usual icy persona Coffee Vamp: haha hes the bb of so many things Coffee Vamp: bb vamp bb demon spawn ice ice bb Coffee Vamp: getitt im so funny

4:36AM | Coffee Vamp: guys?

“I told you I could get her to write her number on your cup,” Marinette grins with pride.

“And I told you I didn’t want her to.” Damian scowls and kicks a pebble in his path.

“You’re still wearing the clothes I picked out for you,” she points out.

“You told me to wear it. I wore it. I’m not interested in her.” 

Marinette squints at Damian, evaluates whether he’s telling the truth or not. “Huh, you really aren’t interested. I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t wear the other outfit I picked out for you-- that one would have gotten her to ask you out on the spot.”

Damian groans. “We’re going to have to find a new coffee place.”

“Or we could just come when she’s not on shift and run away like mice when we do see her?”

Damian gives her The Look.

“But they have good coffee here,” Marinette whines.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before dressing me up and sending me to my death.”

“It’s not my fault! You only have your parents to blame for your looks.”

It’s true; both of Damian’s parents are good-looking. His whole family is, actually, adopted or not. All of the good looking people he meets are talented and have a tragic life story. Which is the cause and which is the effect, Damian isn’t sure. But it holds true even in Paris. All he has to do is look at Marinette or Adrien, though he’s not a hundred percent sure where the tragedy kicks in for Marinette. Probably the time when she was at odds with Lila, but he hasn’t looked much into the situation. He can even use Lila Rossi as an example. She has even worse color coordination than Damian is, but her features are model worthy. Lila Rossi is also definitely fucked up in ways that Damian doesn’t care to explore.

The effects of Marinette’s well-placed compliments has Damian thinking about himself in a positive manner that he never has before. Bruce is always stingy with praise, and the other senior members of the Justice League of America see him as another Robin that doesn’t need praise because competency comes with the mantle. Dick and Barbara compliment him occasionally, but that’s rarer now that his place is more firmly cemented in the family. Damian doesn’t think he’s ever had someone so willing to genuinely compliment him. Marinette’s compliments extend to more than just his looks, as well. She praises his technological skills as he sets up her website and has complimented him as he helps her out with whatever altercations she inevitably comes across on the streets. If he reveals his skills as Robin, reveals himself as Damian Wayne, will he receive even more praise?

“But since we did buy you that absolute knockout of an outfit, you’re going to have to wear it eventually. So whose heart do you want to steal?”

“I don’t want a relationship,” Damian repeats. They seem like more effort than they’re worth, and he always sees couples fighting and complaining about each other. Plus, they have to make time for each other and his alter ego doesn’t allow for that, though he supposes that he isn't Robin. At least, not right now.

“You don’t need to want a relationship just to flirt with somebody. Who’s it going to be? The intern at the Louvre? My parent’s newest hire? Oooh, how about Nicolette?” Marinette’s voice takes on a more mischievous tone. 

Damian will give Marinette this much: her taste in the aesthetics of people is far from bad. The intern from the Louvre is two hundred pounds of lean muscle with a devil-may-care smile and a deep, belly laugh that makes people laugh with him, but Damian and he don’t have anything in common. Her parent’s new hire is knockout gorgeous, with warm brown eyes, and definitely the kind of girl Damian would have gone for as a one night stand back in Gotham. However, he’s also 98% sure that she has a very possessive boyfriend who stops by the bakery every time she has a shift. Nicolette is considered her college’s belle, and her intense gaze paired with her surprisingly friendly demeanor might have been appealing to Damian if she weren’t ten years older than him. 

“I’m not into any of them,” he says, simply.

“Then who are you into? Surely someone has caught your eye in the past month?” Marinette looks genuinely curious, but her expression shifts into horror. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I never asked your preferences, if I was being insensitive, I’m sorry, I mean I’m pan, but you absolutely don’t have to tell me, it’s your right if you’re not comfortable.”

Damian does look slightly uncomfortable now that she’s looking at him more closely. His arms are crossed over each other, across his chest, and his hair is tousled. Then, he lets out a small laugh, and Marinette melts. “It’s fine, Pigtails. All of the people you listed are attractive, but I’m not attracted to them. I’m more of a personality guy, though I can’t say that personality has stopped me from things more than dates before.”

He’s had his fair share of hook-ups and makeout sessions in the past when feeling particularly frustrated with something that wasn’t going his way, though his primary method of relief is through sparring. Short missions and one night stands go fairly well together; he doesn’t ever have to deal with people wanting long term relationships, and even if they do, he’s gone before they know it. So far, he hasn’t hooked up with anyone in Paris, but then again, he’s only been here for a month and this is a long term mission. Whatever time he’s not with Marinette or at school is dedicated to piecing together the mystery that is the Miraculous and trying to figure out Hawkmoth’s identity. 

“Oh,” Marinette continues to blush.

She’s clearly too embarrassed to bring up any other topic, so Damian decides that he’ll shoot the same conversation topic back at her. Marinette is attractive, and people she meets ask for her numbers and dates often enough. She’ll accept the former if they aren’t a total creep, but she always turns down requests for dates.

“And you? Why aren’t you out there questing for love? No crushes or significant others that I need to beat off with a stick?”

This does manage to lessen her flush. She frowns, turns something over in her mind. 

“No crushes right now, no. I used to have a huge crush on Adrien just a year ago. He’s such a sweet person, but we don’t see eye to eye on important matters.” And also not into sex, either. Even physical affection hits him the wrong way sometimes, which makes Marinette worry even further for his well being with Lila’s constant touches. Still, he hasn’t said anything, and Lila hasn’t done anything more than grasp his arm or shoulders every now and then, to reassure the class that yes, they are the golden couple. Marinette also suspects that he is very unwilling to talk about the whole situation in general, and it’s not as though they’re super close.

Of course she had a crush on Adrien. Damian can see it now, Marinette looking at Adrien with her big blue eyes, her lashes fluttering when she gets close to him. Stuttering when she gets embarrassed or when she gets close to him. It makes his lungs constrict, but he’s not sure why.

“As for past relationships, there’s only really Luka. We had a pretty good run, but he’s out of the country, touring. He wanted to try long distance, but I didn’t really want that. But he’s respectful-- there’s no need to beat him off with a stick or anything.”

“I’m surprised a pretty girl like you doesn’t have more suitors,” Damian says, stepping over a crack in the sidewalk as they walk towards the park.

Marinette gags. “There are some other people who have been interested, but I wouldn’t exactly consider them relationship material. If you’re going after a girl just because she looks exotic, that’s sort of nasty. I guess I’m just unlucky in love.”

“At least you’re not as bad off as Ladybug is,” Damian jokes.

She looks at him strangely. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, first there was that creepy sculptor who must have been twice her age, then there’s Chat Noir who keeps flirting with her despite her requests not to, plus all of the random love akumas. I’m not even going to talk about the hordes of guys who chase after her, trying to get a date just because she’s a superhero. It’s not even like she can kick them between the legs because she has an image to uphold and all that.” He smirks, nudges her with his arm. “I’m surprised you haven’t done that with some of your stalkers.”

“Oh. You’re right, huh. Though, I don’t think Chat Noir has actually flirted for a while now.”  Chat Noir has been very subdued as of late, and it makes Ladybug worry.

Marinette feels uncomfortable with the way the conversation has shifted. How does Damian know about all of these past akuma attacks? As far as Marinette is aware, most information about anything Miraculous related is difficult to get a hold of abroad, largely because the Miraculous try to hide their existence as best they can, and partially because Mayor Bourgeois doesn’t want word to get out that he hasn’t flushed a supervillain terrorist out even though he’s had three years to do it.

“Copycat happened three years ago.” It’s a question, almost.

“I figure I might as well keep up with the heroes of Paris. I’m here and they’re interesting.” Damian figures this is as good a time as any to bring up his interest in Hawkmoth. Marinette has been nothing but helpful and she’s definitely the kind of person whose heart is in the right place. Not to mention that she’s definitely smart and seems impartial; the one time he asked her about her thoughts on the heroes, he found out that she didn’t see them as perfect. She was able to critique Ladybug in full, which seemed pretty odd considering the rest of Paris seemed to have nothing but glowing praise for the heroine. “You’ve had some awful luck with akumas yourself. Weird how Ladybug didn’t show up when you got kidnapped by Evillustrator. One of the only times she didn’t show up for an akuma.”

“And what happened to the other heroes? It’s mostly Ladybug now. She must be in an awful state with her civilian life.” He looks off to the park, occasionally flicking his attention back Marinette’s face, evaluating her expression.

She catches his eyes and he swiftly looks away, looking almost nervous. Marinette stiffens. He knows, he knows, he knows, he can’t know. But how? How does he know that she’s Ladybug? She hasn’t let anything slip around him. She's been careful not to. Everything she’s ever said about Ladybug has been brief and curt, taking on an almost angry tone.

“If you’re so interested in Parisian heroes, I’m sure you saw the press conference Ladybug and Chat Noir gave last year about why the other heroes would be showing up less often.” Marinette keeps her voice carefully neutral. She needs to play this safe. She’s probably over reacting-- she’s been on edge with Hawkmoth sending out an akuma attack nearly every single day for the past few months.

Damian shakes his head. “It didn’t seem like good reasoning. Ladybug and Chat Noir are too untrained. They haven’t beat two villains in three years. They should let someone else take over.” 

Marinette has come across a good number of Ladybug and Chat Noir haters throughout her time. Those who dislike the Parisian heroes often make the exact same arguments Damian is now. That they’re not fast enough. That they should have taken down Hawkmoth and Mayura already. This is nothing new to her, though it does hurt hearing it from Damian, for some reason. She can’t even argue with most of the points he’s brought up. Going mostly solo was because of her own, selfish reasons. She really should have beaten Hawkmoth and Mayura by now. 

“The only thing they have going for them right now is that they’re keeping their Miraculous out of Hawkmoth’s hands.” She pretends that the reason why Chat Noir doesn’t show up to battle is to ensure that Hawkmoth can’t get both of the Miraculous in one fell swoop. It feels hopeless to fight villain after villain without any movement forwards. Her mind wanders to the increasing frequency of akumas and smiles, sardonically. “Some people think it’s only a matter of time until Ladybug and Chat Noir lose.”

“Hawkmoth almost seems to be the better strategist.” The two of them pass store front after store front. “Do you ever wonder what they look like, under the mask? Who they are?”

Marinette stares at the concrete underneath her feet. Hawkmoth, the better strategist? Laughable, and entirely incorrect. Even the people who hate Ladybug admit that her plans almost always work out, and that her plans are second to none. Really the only person who can possibly think that Hawkmoth is a better strategist is--

She can’t think like that. Damian is her friend. He’s just curious about Paris. Her lack of sleep and increase in paranoia re making her imagine things that are impossible. Besides, Damian isn’t on her list of suspects-- he told her he’s only been here for a short time, and Hawkmoth’s Miraculous definitely has a limited range. It’s a real pity that the world of Miraculous makes concrete evidence hard to come by, otherwise, Marinette likes to think Hawkmoth would have been behind bars already. 

“No,” she lies. Hawkmoth haunts her dreams and every waking hour. She spends hours and hours on theories and scouring out information and people who fit the clues she’s painstakingly pieced together. “Not really.”

Damian’s eyes are a piercing green, and for a moment, Marinette thinks she stops breathing. “Is that so? I’m really interested in who Ladybug is under the mask. I’d love the opportunity to talk to her in person, especially about her Miraculous. The powers she has are… very interesting.”

No. There’s no way that Damian can be Hawkmoth, right? This is all just her paranoia speaking. Damian is just a foreigner who is interested in super heroes. It’s no biggie. Still, she can’t shake off the idea that there’s more to Damian than meets the eye. The way he walks-- no, prowls-- commands respect. Marinette can tell that he knows how to fight, and knows how to fight well. He’s very good at finding information on people-- she sent a whole case file to her on Renee and his situation with his mother within twenty four hours of going into the precinct, complete with video evidence Marinette knows should have been impossible to procure without hacking-- and keeps up with her critiques on Ladybug and Chat Noir’s techniques like he’s watched their battles over and over again. He remembers akuma battles Marinette has half forgotten, because they happened so long ago.

She stares up at him, hands shoved in the pockets of the jacket she chose for him when they went on their wardrobe makeover. Damian is surprisingly wealthy; he purchased anything she even glanced at with passing approval. He looks straight forward, apparently waiting for some response from her. Just because Damian is her friend, doesn’t mean she can immediately expunge him from her list of suspects. So far, she has taken all of Damian’s words at face value. It didn’t matter to her that he rarely talks about his family or his life before Paris. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t brought her to his home during all of the weeks that they’ve been hanging out together. Really, Marinette just figured that he had a rocky relationship with his family, and that he may have been on the poorer side and was embarrassed to show her where he lived. But clearly. Damian is well off enough to afford brand name clothes without batting an eye. Things aren’t adding up. All of the red flags that she’s blatantly ignored start to crop up in her head.

The book on the species of butterflies that akumas are made of, tucked under his arm. The way he showed up after every single akuma attack when she rarely saw him in the area before or during it. His knowledge of the three languages that form the basis of the Miraculous Tome-- Mandarin, Arabic, and English.

If he is Hawkmoth, what sort of emotions would he be feeling right now? Some sort of euphoria, maybe, realizing that he could get infinitely closer to Ladybug when she is Marinette. Anticipation, too. Has Marinette been hanging out with a super villain for the past month? Has she really come to the point where she can call a supervillain her best friend?

Marinette takes another look at Damian’s outfit. Master Fu said that the Miraculous Hawkmoth owns is in the shape of a brooch. Marinette sees no such object on Damian, which could either mean that he’s not Hawkmoth or that he’s just been taking it off whenever he’s with her. She’s really hoping it’s not the second option.

She needs to gather her thoughts, make a plan on how to proceed. When she’s sure that Damian isn’t looking, Marinette sets off the ringtone that is saved for her Maman’s texts and calls. This catches Damian’s attention, and she waves looks up from her phone as though she’s responding. 

“Maman wants me to do a delivery. If you’re looking for more information on the whole superhero situation in Paris, I can get you Alya’s number. She runs the Ladyblog-- I’m sure she’d be glad to talk with you.” Alya also has some of the worst conspiracy theories that Marinette has ever seen. She doesn’t often keep abreast of what the Ladyblog’s portrayal of Ladybug is, but back when Marinette and Alya were friends, she was subjected to wild theories that made her stomach nauseous with how little logic there was. Which means that if-- if-- Damian is actually Hawkmoth, he might be thrown off by what she says.

“I’ll see you on Monday? Jagged texted me last night and wants me to change the embroidery on his commission.” This isn’t exactly a lie; Jagged wants one of the smaller details to be changed, but it certainly won’t take as long as she’s suggesting. Marinette hopes that it’s enough of an excuse to get Damian off her back for the rest of today and tomorrow while she reevaluates her game plans and life choices. 

Damian waves her off. “I don’t think that Ladyblogger girl knows anymore than I do. She’s of no help to me. I’ll see you on Monday.”

#

Marinette’s reaction to Damian’s questions are weird. There’s an underlying tension that she exuded before they parted ways, and he’s still thinking about it a day later.

Marinette, who he always finds near an akuma attack right after it occurs. Marinette, who is emotionally and physically superior to most other Parisians. Marinette, who hasn’t been akumatized in a class full of idiots and other victims. Marinette, who doesn’t like Ladybug even though she seems like a fairly competent and kind hero, despite the fact that she hasn’t caught Hawkmoth yet. Marinette, who rarely talks about akumas despite all of the time he spends with her, which is highly unusual because even people he only briefly meets manage to slip in something about akumas into the conversation. Damian feels like there must be some sort of connection between Marintte and the akuma situation that he’s not getting, but it’s eluding him.

He sits down with his laptop in his apartment and looks up information about Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She’s definitely just as talented as he suspected; in her ninth year of schooling, she won a Gabriel competition, participated in a music video of Clara Nightingale’s, and collaborated with Jagged Stone on an album cover. So that was how she met him-- he wondered, but never asked. There are also a few instagram posts that have tagged her as a good samaritan and a few articles that detail a small, asian girl who’s going around Paris helping random people that are in need.

The weird things that Damian finds are contained in her school records. She’s apparently in very good company with her IQ, but what’s more interesting is all the dates that she is tardy or absent from school. They line up perfectly with all of the dates that akumas appear. He feels dread gather in his stomach. 

A few more searches seem to cement his growing suspicions. Around the same time that Marinette obtained a truce with Lila matched up with when theorists believed that the Italian girl started working with Hawkmoth. He reads the instagrams and tweets of her classmates from the first year that Hawkmoth arrived, which talk about how excellent Marinette is at calming them down and guiding them to a better place. He also reads the posts of Chloe Bourgeois and Alya Cesaire and the articles about Marinette and Evillustrator that tell a slightly different story-- that Marinette is capable of manipulating others into more unpleasant situations.

Damian jolts. There is an incoming call from his father. 

“Are updates on Paris, Damian?” 

Should he give them a clue to his growing suspicions that Marinette is Hawkmoth? No, he can’t tell them until he gathers more information. 

“No,” he says. “Information about Hawkmoth and the Miraculous are hard to come by.”

There’s a sigh and what sounds like the rustling of papers from the other side. “I figured. Tim and Barbara can’t find anything over here, either, but the Justice League is worried. They want results.”

“The Justice League and I agreed that having Robin make an appearance would be beneficial. Gain Ladybug and Chat Noir’s trust, or find Hawkmoth. Information might come easier with your alter ego.”

“All right.” 

Another pause. He and his father have always had an awkward relationship. Bruce didn’t know of his existence until he was ten, and by that time, the most formative years of Damian’s life had already passed. Bruce Wayne may be many things, but good at dealing with children, he is not. Even after adopting so many children, he doesn’t know how to raise a child. Damian and his brothers have all raised themselves, with Bruce only stepping in when one of them is really going off the rails.

“Is everything else going well in Paris? School is good?”

“School is fine.” Damian wonders whether he should tell his father about Marinette. About the girl who is kind and capable and scarily efficient at dispatching criminals for a citizen and-- he can’t think about her like that. He decides against telling his father about her. She might be Hawkmoth, after all, and confirming her existence to his father means that he’s denying that possibility. “Gotham?”

“Nothing out of the usual. A few run-ins with the Joker.”

Another silence. The lapses in conversation aren’t awkward, but Damian thinks of the playful banter Marinette has with her parents and frowns. 

“Goodbye, Father.”

“Goodnight, Damian.”

Damian looks around at his empty apartment. There is nothing in it, except for his suitcase and a few pieces of furniture. It’s nothing like the manor, where he knows that Tim is up at all hours slaving away on another project that Damian rarely gets to see, or that Jason is in the training room with Dick joining him occasionally. He can’t pick a fight with Tim or have Dick try to mediate the conflicts between himself and Jason. No nightly patrols with three or four people talking over the comms, or near instantaneous backup when he gets into a tight spot. There is no Alfred or Barbara or Cassandra or Bruce here. Only Damian. 

He looks down at his laptop, at the various information and images of Marinette that he has up on his screen. In good conscience, he can’t continue being friends with her. Not with the possibility that she is the person he’s trying to hunt down. 

He remembers her saying that being lonely is different than being alone. 

Damian is lonely.

#

Patrol is a necessary evil. 

Ladybug doesn’t hate patrol. She’s not very fond of it, though. It cuts into time that she could be spending sleeping or designing or anything else, really. In the beginning, it started as a way to figure out how everything worked under the guise of the dark and without the constant threat of an akuma hanging over head. Then, it progressed into disproving the theory about Ladybug’s age, because civilians aren’t inclined to believe that a teenage girl who has school the next day would patrol every day in the early morning. Now, it shows the Parisians how devoted Ladybug is-- that’s something that she’s struggled with ever since withdrawing the Miraculous from all of the part time heroes-- and lets Marinette blow off any steam that she has. 

Right now, Marinette needs to blow off a lot of steam. Still, even as Ladybug, as much as Marinette wants to scream to high hell and back about how she’s been friends-- very close friends, she’d dare to say-- with the same person who has been terrorizing Paris for years, she can’t. If she screams, there will be media coverage on it, and she doesn’t want to deal with what the press would write up some article about how Ladybug was overworked and needed to bring back the other heroes, or that Ladybug wasn’t mentally sound enough to take care of Paris, she should just give up the Miraculous, or that Ladybug’s scream was [insert some poetic nonsense that English teachers wax about for hours even though the author never intended the audience to read that deeply into it].

Marinette doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s gotten close to Damian. She’s as close to him as she is with Kagami, Luka, Jagged and Penny. Damian knows that she’s MDC. He knows her hopes and aspirations. He knows her family, knows the majority of her friends, and knows what’s important to her. It will be so easy for him to tear her apart now. Marinette isn’t sure what Hawkmoth is waiting for, but she almost hopes that he’ll get it over with sooner rather than later.

What will Hawkmoth do first? Go after the website that he helped her make, probably. Cut off the financial support that she could use to run away and create another identity. Then, he’ll go after her friends, few and far as they may be. Renee next. Her family, last. She wonders who Mayura is, if he is Hawkmoth. She hasn’t seen anyone that’s close to him. Then again, Damian reveals next to nothing about himself. She’s never even seen where he lives.

There’s a shadow on the rooftops. 

God, of course Hawkmoth would send out an akuma today. He knows how horrible her mental state must be. There’s no way he wouldn’t take advantage of that.

She yoyos over to the shadow, not close enough to strike or apprehend, but close enough to easily give chase without the akuma being able to give her the slip.

“Ladybug,” the akuma says.

“Cut the crap. We all know you want the Miraculous, Hawkmoth. Let’s get to it.” The shadow steps forward where a street lamp illuminates its costume, and once again, she is assaulted by the barrage of colors on her eyes. After seeing how awful Damian’s color coordination was, it’s easy to come to terms with the awful designs of all of his costumes. Still, she’s surprised that the boy who dresses in the same outfit every day creates such outlandish costumes for all of his minions. 

The akuma frowns, tenses. 

“I’m not Hawkmoth,” it insists. “I’m Robin, a vigilante from Gotham. I’ve come to learn more about the current situation and aid you in taking Hawkmoth down.”

 Ladybug scoffs. She’s not sure what this akuma’s tactic is, but none of the others have tried to lie to her so blatantly about their identity. And ripping off an identity? That is a new low, even for Hawkmoth. She’s sure that the real Robin didn’t agree to this, and if she were close with the vigilante, maybe she could get him to throw a lawsuit or two at Hawkmoth once he was in custody, just for kicks.

Robin the akuma scrambles, apparently looking for something that can verify his identity. 

Ladybug strikes. There’s no pride in striking an opponent when they are distracted, but it’s a means to an end. If Damian is dumb enough to send out an akuma confused about its identity tonight of all nights-- a night where Ladybug is distressed and it would be all too easy to take advantage of her-- then she’s going to take advantage of it.

It’s easy to bind the akuma. Startlingly easy. The akuma is different tonight, then. His powers have something to do with close contact, maybe? Ladybug looks on his person for things that could be the point of akumatization, eyes flitting from Robin’s waistband to his mask.

She comes to an unpleasant conclusion. The measurements and the coloring are a perfect match. Hawkmoth has come to meet her in person.

“Damian,” Ladybug hisses. 

Damian’s eyes widen, like he doesn’t know how she’s pieced together his identity. How stupid does he think she is? He’s been dropping hints constantly. Information a transfer to Paris shouldn’t know. Never telling Marinette anything personal. Always being near an akuma attack when it happens. It’s almost like he wanted her to figure out his identity.

“How did you know?” 

“Please, Hawkmoth, did you really think that Marinette couldn’t connect the dots? You must have thought awfully little of her if you thought that your constant appearances near all of the akuma and questions about the Miraculous didn’t lead me to your identity.”

“Hawkmoth? Ladybug, I’m not Hawkmoth, I’m Robin.”

“And I’m the queen of England. Renounce your Miraculous now, Hawkmoth. Or I’ll beat you until you detransform and take it from you.” 

Damian looks confused before his face contorts to an expression of resignation. He recognizes a cold fury in her eyes that is distinct to people who won’t give up until they get their way, and there’s really no other way around this right now. He should have brought his comm with him, but he wasn’t expecting to meet Ladybug tonight; he just wanted to assess the situation as Robin, to get out from his apartment for a second. Rookie mistake. 

True to her word, Ladybug beats Damian unconscious and also until he’s black and blue. She’ll be lying if she didn’t say she took out some of her fury from the past years on him.

But here’s the thing; Damian doesn’t detransform. He stays in his god-awful costume that has the same disgusting shade of mustard yellow as that one top Damian owns. That’s not what’s supposed to happen. When Miraculous users faint, they detransform because it takes a sort of mental awareness to handle the powers bestowed upon them. Is it different because Damian is an akuma? Is there some sort of Miraculous bylaw that if a Miraculous user gets akumatized, they get to stay in their alternate form? Oh wait, that’s right, he’s an akuma, not Hawkmoth right now.

Ladybug stumbles forward, breaking all of the weapons that are on his belt, taking off his mask and breaking that as well. No akuma comes out. She tries his gloves, then his boots. She pats him down, seeing if there’s anything she missed. She rips his suit, too. Nothing. There’s no brooch in his personal effects either.

What is she supposed to do now? 

Seeing no alternative, Ladybug picks Damian up and yoyos back to Tom and Sabine’s Boulangerie to safely detransform and figure out what the fuck is going on.

He’s not Hawkmoth, is the conclusion Marinette comes to after a side by side comparison of pictures of the vigilante and Damian. The horrifying conclusion: the person lying on the floor of her bedroom is actually Robin, the vigilante from Gotham. 

Marinette knows it’s better to err on the side of caution, but she still buries her head in her hands in embarrassment. How can she have gotten him so wrong? She really needs to get better at reading people, because deciding that random civilians are Hawkmoth clearly has not paid off. 

She also cannot believe that the Justice League has decided to step in now, and with a sidekick from America, of all things--Marinette is pretty sure that she sent the videos to the European branch. It must have been three years since her first notification to them. She contacted them immediately after Stoneheart, and again, after Syren when she was distraught at the death that surrounded her. With no response, there was nothing she could do. She has to start relying on herself and her own skills. 

Ladybug only contacted them once more, after Heroes’ Day. At that point, Ladybug had been thinking for a while that someone who was naturally superpowered or someone with a high grade of intelligence-- like the heroes affiliated with the Justice League-- would do more harm than good if they were allowed in the city. After the devastation of her teammates being akumatized, and the nearly week long battle that ensued, she was certain that she could barely fight her teammates, let alone trained professionals. So with shaky hands and red rimmed eyes, she said to please disregard her earlier messages; the situation in Paris wasn’t that bad, and Ladybug could handle it. 

Damian groans. Marinette jumps; he is waking up far earlier than she anticipated. She wants to transform back into Ladybug. Being in her spots gives her a pseudo sense of security. First, though, she has to restrain him. Even though he isn’t Hawkmoth, she’s not sure whether he’s a threat or not. She makes quick work of it, using the thickest zip ties that she has on hand and restraining his arms and legs.

She doesn’t get the chance to transform back into Ladybug, but that’s just as well, because at the end of the day, Marinette is the foundation of anything that makes Ladybug a hero to the public. Damian opens his eyes almost immediately after she has finished restraining him, taking in his surroundings and the person in front of him.

“Marinette? Where’s Ladybug?” No questions of how he got there; Ladybug can clearly carry her own weight and more. No questions as to why there are zip ties cutting into his wrists and ankles; he has seen too many of Marinette’s victims on the streets.

“What do you mean, where’s Ladybug?” Marinette is right in front of him. She might not have the suit on, but at the end of the day, she does have the Ladybug Miraculous, which means she’s Ladybug through and through, and Damian must know that. Otherwise, there’s no real reason for Robin to be spending so much time with Marinette. The fact that she feels more real and true to herself as Marinette than as Ladybug probably means nothing to him.

“She knocked me out on a rooftop. Didn’t know that you two knew each other personally. I’m not Hawkmoth, by the way.” He twitches, then realizes that he’s been tied up. “Why’d she leave me with you?”

So he doesn’t know that she’s also Ladybug? This whole thing keeps getting more confusing. Still, the less people that know about her alter ego, the better. Marinette will keep him in the dark. She attributes his blatant misunderstanding to the identity concealment magic of the Miraculous. It’s powerful stuff. If it didn’t exist, she’s sure she would have found concrete evidence as to who Hawkmoth is by now. 

“She asked me to assess whether you were a threat or not. Whether or not she casts the Miraculous Cure is contingent on my response.”

“Ladybug wants you to assess whether I’m a threat or not? Why’d she leave a possible super villain with a civilian?”

“I help Ladybug out with many things.” Her voice turns to clinical detachment. She uses this method to dissociate as Ladybug when things get overwhelming. Assess the situation. Get in, deakumatize, get out. Marinette needs to distance herself. It’s bad enough that the situation is this convoluted, but she doesn’t need Damian to doubt Ladybug’s capabilities as well. “Ladybug knows that you’re not Hawkmoth now, and she knows that I can handle myself with any run of the mill bad guy, even if they are a supposed vigilante.”

“Tell me, Robin,” Marinette spits the name like a curse, “Why should I tell Ladybug that you’re not a threat? That you are who you say you are?”

In all honesty, all Marinette wants to do is knock Damian out again so she can collect her thoughts. She’s not sure how she should address his presence as Robin in Paris and is still reeling from the whiplash of thinking he was Hawkmoth only for him to turn into a foreign vigilante. Next thing she knows, he’ll tell her that his name isn’t even Damian Grayson. Well, now that she thinks about it, he’s definitely not. After this encounter finishes, she’ll look up Damian and Gotham and see what she gets.

He looks flustered, like he never expected anybody to question his identity or presence. It’s laughable, really. Marinette doubts that the Justice League actually sent him; he’s probably here to explore on his own. That means he’ll only be a pain in the ass to deal with. Maybe she needs to get into contact with the Justice League again, if only just so she can deport Robin with more ease. 

“I can call Batman,” he says.

Marinette doesn’t think this is a very good solution. There’s no way for her to prove that the person on the other side actually is Batman and not some actor. But after racking her brain, she can’t come up with a much better solution. It’s not like Robin has any superpowers that she can request to see, and she doesn’t have a direct line to anybody from the Justice League.

“Fine. Call Batman.”

“It’s in the pocket near on my right side.” Marinette doesn’t bother going closer to him. She destroyed everything on him earlier, in case it was the akuma’s vessel. Ladybug thought she came across a phone, but now she’s glad she smashed it and left it on that random rooftop. He probably has some sort of tracker on his phone. In any case, Marinette thinks it’s weird for a vigilante to have a phone on them while on the rooftops. Shouldn’t he have an earpiece or something? 

“Your phone was destroyed by Ladybug. Tell me the number to call. I’ll put it on speaker.” Marinette isn’t sure if the number he’ll have her call will be some sort of secure connection or direct line that is only accessible through Damian’s phone, but she doesn’t particularly care because the Miraculous Communicators are exactly that. Miraculous. Master Fu assured her that all communications were private and impossible to crack unless they also had a Miraculous. Which is why she’s using the Miraculous Communicator to call Batman.

Damian winces, then speaks into the offered phone. 

“Batman, it’s Robin. I need to verify my identity in order to proceed.”

“Are you with Ladybug?”

So he is on a mission, then, and not just playing hooky. If Batman is involved, Marinette has no doubt the rest of the Justice League will follow soon. This will be a dreadfully unpleasant call.

“I’m making it a video call,” Marinette says. “And no, he’s not with Ladybug. I’m Ladybug’s point of contact, and she doesn’t take kindly to people encroaching on her territory without permission.”

“Robin, what happened?” Batman isn’t accepting her video request.

Marinette cuts off whatever Damian is about to say. “Damian was suspicious; I reported his activities to Ladybug and she believed that he could be Hawkmoth. Then, she caught him on the roofs and took him back to my place after verifying that he wasn’t Hawkmoth. Video call, Batman. I’d like to see that you are who you say you are, before I send Robin back to the states.”

“She knows your civilian identity? Two people know that you’re Robin?”

“Turn your video on. If you can’t prove that you are who Damian says you are, Ladybug and I will do everything in our powers to deport him and make sure that the Justice League is not allowed in Paris again. Ladybug said that she doesn’t need any unknowns in her city, and I’ve been hoping Robin came here of his own volition. It sounds like that isn’t the case.”

Marinette thinks that Batman curses in English, but she’s not sure. Fluent though Marinette may be, she is not well versed in curses, colloquialisms, or American memes. The camera turns on. It’s Batman, or at the very least, an actor wearing a very good knock off costume.

It’s annoying that Marinette can’t see his eyes. There’s some white film where his eyes should be, and the fact that his cowl covers more than half of his face isn’t doing her any favors in letting her read his facial expression. She moves herself so that Batman can see both her and Robin.

“Why is Robin restrained?”

“Like I said: he was suspicious. I’m not taking any chances.”

A moment of silence.

“How do you want me to prove my identity?” 

That’s good. He’s not asking who she is, though she’s sure that there are cameras pointing at the screen on Batman’s end, running facial analysis and background checks on her. The Miraculous magic will ensure that any connections between her and Ladybug will not come to light. Other than her identity as Ladybug, Marinette has nothing to hide.

“If you’re Batman, then you should have access to the League’s calls, European and otherwise. Play me the last video that Ladybug sent you. I know what she said.” She spares a glance at Damian. His jaw is tight, but when he looks at her, she finds what looks like regret. It’s not entirely Damian’s fault. A mission is a responsibility, and Marinette understands that in order to be a hero or vigilante, one must be willing to do anything to accomplish the mission. Really, she’s only Ladybug because she feels that heavy weight of the words duty and responsibility on her shoulders. Fu’s fault.

“Behave. If you try something, I’ll knock you out.” Marinette sets the communicator on her desk and eyes him. The zipties are so tight around his arms and legs that he is bleeding. Marinette feels a flash of sympathy, then pushes it away. It was his fault for-- why was he at fault, again? 

“I have the video.” Batman sounds even peakier than when they started the call. He plays the video.

“Justice League. This is Ladybug. I rescind my requests for help; I can take care of Paris with my own team. Any help from you at this point would be a detriment and could potentially harm the citizens of Paris. Hawkmoth manipulates strong emotions, and I don’t need to handle a metahuman or tactical genius to gain more power to wreak havoc on my city. I will not contact you with any further requests for assistance.”

It’s an awful video. Marinette had to wait a day after the Heroes’ week fiasco just so her eyes wouldn’t be red. At least her voice doesn’t waver in it. There’s a conviction in the whole video that was unique to that moment. 

Marinette looks at Batman, then at Robin. 

“Clearly the Justice League refused to listen. Ladybug doesn’t want or need your help at this point in time. Why are you here?”

“The Justice League is at fault for not paying attention to Ladybug’s other videos. But Mayor Bourgeois and President Macron can only cover such alarming incidents for so long. Ladybug and her… team clearly need help in order to find and take down Hawkmoth, so once the American branch of the Justice League found out half a year ago, we started to investigate.” Batman speaks in lieu of Damian. Marinette briefly wonders if Damian knows who Batman is under the mask. She bets he does. They’re probably close, what with how worried Batman sounds. 

“What makes you think that the Justice League is any better equipped to handle this situation? Ladybug and her team have been fighting for the past three years and resolved every akuma with no help from you. She needed your help in earlier years. Now she doesn’t.”

“Exactly; it’s been three years and she still hasn’t caught Hawkmoth.”

“You say that like the Justice League doesn’t have a team with more wealth and manpower than Ladybug does that’s been looking into Hawkmoth and the Miraculous for the past half year and clearly has not found any reasonable leads. Ladybug has only been actively looking for Hawkmoth for the past two years, not three. The police handled the first year, not that you’ve done any homework on the situation. Thought that a field agent would help your chances?” 

There is fire in Marinette’s stomach. Batman sounds so dismissive of all of the work that she’s been doing. It’s been hard on her; she doesn’t have the support that she needs and doesn’t have the experience or expertise to hunt down Hawkmoth on her own. She trained briefly under Master Fu to learn spells and ways to expand her powers as Ladybug, but that was an equivalent exchange: she no longer trusts that other holders won’t be akumatized. Her growing cynicism and physical training from Maman came at the expense of Chat Noir; after the whole Lila incident in her first year as Ladybug, she found out that Chat Noir and Adrien were one and the same. And Gabriel Agreste is not afraid to use his son until Adrien is stretched far too thin, which forced Marinette to nearly bench her partner.

“Three years,” Batman says again.

“If the Justice League can’t figure it out nearly unlimited resources and funding in half a year-- both ordinary and super human-- then clearly it isn’t a question of time. It’s a question of capability. Get off your high horse, Batman. You haven’t given me any reasons why Ladybug and I shouldn’t deport Robin here, and you’re definitely not making a good case as to why she shouldn’t go to Mayor Bourgeois and France’s president to ensure that the Justice League and its affiliates and ban hero travel into Paris. Bourgeois already doesn’t want information on it’s supervillain situation to get out.” 

“Marinette,” Damian pleads.

As Robin and as Damian, he doesn’t pose a threat. He hasn’t been helpful, but he certainly hasn’t messed with the status quo for the month that he’s been here. Still, he is a liability. If he stays in Paris, he is the gateway for the other members of the Justice League to fly in and try to commandeer the fragile balance that she has found. She can’t afford for something like that to happen.  

“You’re not any better, Robin. Why did you even hang around me? Thought I was a threat?” Her eyes narrow in realization. It makes sense why he decided to hang out with her, despite his initial cold front. He was playing a role.“You thought I was Hawkmoth.”

His silence is an agreement.

“We just want to help,” Damian says, and against her better judgement, Marinette believes him. 

Her shoulders round, and Marinette sighs. She can’t truly begrudge Damian for that train of thought, not when she believed the same about him. She’s been a little harsh on them so far, in part due to old resentment that they never responded to her in that first, awful year when she needed the help. 

There’s a dull tiredness that comes with knowing someone who she considered one of her closest friends suspected her of being a supervillain, though she did believe the same of him, so maybe they’re even. It still hurts, though. It hurts like when Alya decided that Marinette was mean-hearted enough to stop the members of their class from reaching their full potential. It hurts like when Marinette finally realized that she couldn’t repair their friendship, not to what it used to be. It hurts like when she looked around the classroom and realized that she couldn’t talk to anyone there. It hurts like when Marinette decided that she couldn’t risk helping her friends the way she wanted to. 

“What kind of help can you offer us? We don’t need any more of you to come out here.” Resources are nice. More money to fund therapy programs around town won’t hurt. Master Fu doesn’t help on that part. Really, he doesn’t help at all. Even though she has Chat Noir and had a team, she often feels like it’s herself against the world. Some days, she reaches up to her earrings and feels an aching emptiness, like there’s something more to the Miraculous that’s been sealed away.

“We can give you resources. Money, connections, experience. Robin is good with technology. He can help you track down where Hawkmoth is.”

Marinette’s laugh is bitter. “Sure, he can try, but the butterflies Hawkmoth sends out aren’t visible by the normal human eye or electronically until they’ve found their mark. Once they’re purified, they’re just normal butterflies, and they go off in random directions.”

“Normal human eye? It sounds like there are exceptions.” Damian readjusts himself. He has fidgeted his way into an uncomfortable looking seiza position, where his ankles are bleeding. 

“A true holder can see the butterflies at all times.”

Marinette also decides to throw them a bone so there’s no questions as to why a mere civilian is working with Ladybug. “That’s why Ladybug recruited me. I was Multimouse.”

Multimouse was in the file that Damian sent his father, but he asks, just to make sure. “The one that can split itself?”

“That’s correct. I guess now is as good a time as any for the two of you to get your questions answered.”

“Why are you the point of civilian contact instead of any of the other more frequently used heroes? Didn’t you appear only once?” Damian avoids looking Marinette in the eyes, and that makes her feel slightly better. He’s ashamed of his actions. Good. 

“Ladybug said that the other hero’s civilian forms were either compromised or not in a good position.”

“Ladybug knows who all the holders are.” Batman speculates. He looks less tense now that Damian is no longer tied up, but his voice remains gravelly and distrubed. Maybe that’s what he sounds like all the time.  “Who else knows? Do you?” 

“Only Ladybug knows.” Marinette lives in half truths. She’s not sure that they’re much better than lies, but they’re all she has. Secrecy is the only thing Master Fu has sincerely taught her.

“Why have all the other heroes disappeared?” 

“Ladybug said that it was too dangerous for someone who could be akumatized to hold a Miraculous. Rena Rage, Shell Shock, Queen Wasp-- they were all frighteningly powerful akumas. It’s also why Chat Noir has been showing up less and less; his home life is not the best, and she’s trying her best to ensure that he doesn’t get akumatized.”

“She’s not worried for herself or,” Damian’s eyes flick to Marinette, away from Batman. “For you?” 

“She knows that both of us are good at dealing with stress. We have our own methods of coping.” She looks at Damian, her mouth tightening into a frown. “If you want to stay in Paris, I’ll cut you a deal. We can work together for two weeks, and if we don’t get any results, you have to leave and the Justice League must promise that they won’t interfere again.”

“Two weeks isn’t enough time,” Damian objects.

“If you don’t think it’s enough time, just leave now. I’ll say now that I’m only willing to work with you during the night. That’s the time I work on Miraculous related stuff now, anyways. And stay out of the akuma battles.” She doesn’t actually think that working together will help anyways, and she wants Damian gone sooner rather than later. He’s been making her feel too much and emotions that are far more explosive and easy to take advantage of than Marinette has in a long time. She doesn’t want to be targeted by an akuma because of her inner conflict. 

“Two weeks, then,” Batman agrees. “Robin can contact me if you need any extra resources.”

Marinette hangs up and assesses Damian. He looks almost pitiful, with bruising around his eyes, tousled hair, a ripped suit, and cuts where his skin is exposed. She opens her trap door in a clear gesture for him to depart. Downstairs is dark; her Maman and Papa have long since gone to sleep, and it’s only a few more hours until they wake up to start baking. “We start tomorrow. If you need Ladybug for anything, tell me.”

He’s half way down the ladder when he looks back up at Marinette, into her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Marinette can’t breath. She feels like vomiting. His eyes are so green in comparison to the purple bruising on his face. She did that to him. She made him look that way. All she’s ever wanted to do as Ladybug is protect the people she cared for. But Damian-- Marinette doesn’t know. She doesn't know whether what Damian has done can actually be described as bad. He was just trying to do what Batman told him to do. Keeping an eye on a threat. Marinette wonders how long he thought she was Hawkmoth. She wonders if he ever thought they were friends. 

“I’m sorry too,” Marinette says, and shuts the trap door.

They’re both sorry for very different things.

[ughthatimagineblog]

another world | preview

azriel x reader

requested:  Hey, I saw you were doing requests for azriel in ACOTAR and I've been having a lot of Azriel feels lately and was wondering if you could an Azriel x reader where the reader has come from this world and has read the books and is all like ??? and finds the Inner Circle to ask for help to get home and then her and Az fall in love and are mates and it's quite angsty because he can't leave his family but she can't stay but then she gets turned into Fae somehow and happy ending eventually. Is that ok?

word count: 966

warnings: literally none i think other than cursing in the authors note and ofc covid19,,, but be cautious

a/n: this is my first attempt at writing something long/for azriel again after a long time so im sorry if it’s shite and short. its also kinda just the preview. i needed something to get the ball rolling and the plot is so,,, detailed i couldnt just start from fuckall so here this flaming pile of garbage is. PS I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT I MIGHT BE SELLING ARTWORK SOON. ill be posting a few of my works and if people become interested in asking for commissions ill be glad to sell. i dont have a job currently and its hard to get one b/c of COVID19 so this is kinda a last ditch resort so.. anywho. love yall and youll see anya’s art soon-ish. in the next two weeks hopefully. anyways please enjoy

      Crap. That's all you could think as the pounding in your head made it impossible to truly come up with any other coherent thoughts. The light that poured through the windows of the unfamiliar house burned your eyes and the bed you now laid on was stiff and old. You were nowhere near home. Reaching for your phone in your pockets you cursed yourself, and your friends, for allowing you to drink so much. It seems that you had gotten so drunk, you’d landed yourself in thirteenth century England, or whatever the hell. Of course realistically this wasn’t true but wherever the hell you were, it seemed as though the person who lived here hadn’t been ‘with the times’ so to speak.       A second assessment of your surroundings just confirmed that thought. The wood beneath your feet was old and looked worn and rotten. The bed is equally worn with no entertainment devices in sight. It seemed to be a studio, however you had been convinced it was a house, but alas, there was a wash station and a kitchen table no less than thirty feet from where you sat. Of course, no one was anywhere to be seen and to top it all off, your phone had no signal. None. It was even as if the section at the top left was blank which was completely abnormal. And you would have more time to question it if it weren’t for the front door clamoring open and a tall figure emerge through the doorway.

       “Oh good, you’re awake.” The tall female muttered and wiped off her clothes. “Where am i?” You questioned quickly, fear wavering in your voice as you realized she was dressed quite oddly. A soft tunic that would have definitely dated back to the thirteenth century and some trousers and footwear that had seen better days. She gave you a puzzled look. “Prythian, dear.” She scoffed and went to the wash basin to set down the food you had just realized she had been carrying. “Where is that?” You pushed further. How long had you been out for?        The lady gave you another odd look before busying herself again. “Where are we? Somewhere in England? Anywhere in Britain? It sounds British. Are we in America? Where?”       “Prythian. The continent.” She stated, her looks of concern soon matching your own. “I have no clue how you ended up all the way in the Night Court, but no matter, I’ll bring you to Velaris before sundown and surely our High Lord will return you to the human lands.” She went on and you had to sit back down for a moment. “Human lands...?” You muttered to yourself and glanced back at the woman. Pointed ears, slender face and extreme beauty. Your memory, which had completely forgotten you until now, was slowly returning.         Prythian. It sounded familiar. You just assumed you’d heard it in a world history or apush class. No, you’d heard it from a book. Yes, a fantasy book. But that wasn’t possible.      “Rhysand. Rhysand is your High Lord?” You asked, narrowing your eyes. The girl’s face lit up. “Yes! So you do know about Prythian! You’re not a lost cause after all!” Ignoring the backhanded comment you attempted to make more sense of the situation. “I must be dreaming.” You shook your head and began to stand, suddenly feeling light headed. “If you’re so eager to go, I can take you now, I can assure you you are not dreaming.” She confirmed. You nodded. “Take me now then. Please. I don’t belong here.” With some more hesitant conversation, the woman, who’s name was Rinna, agreed to take you to Velaris sooner than later. She lived on the outskirts of the city, just before the glamour took hold, and knew you were human and in turn gave you all of the essentials. Warm clothes that didn’t look out of place, a bag for your things, and some food.      “It’s an hour’s journey over mountain so be prepared.” She warned. You nodded before leaving her cottage and mounting one of the two horses she had owned.          You needed to figure out what had happened. The last thing you remember was being with your close friend and laughing in a bathroom at a party you two were at. And then everything was blank after that. You had read, and loved A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J Maas but never in a million years did you think you would ever find yourself so far from home, and so close to the world you had loved. You now realized why books were just books. They were easy to love from afar. But so close, so very very close, they became scary. Too real. You were far from home, with no idea how to get back. You hadn’t said goodbye to anyone and without warning, your whole life was gone. And in reality, you knew no one here. Except now maybe Rinna, and technically all of the Inner Circle. But they didn’t know you. And that made all the difference.       You would figure out how to get home no matter what it took. You needed to get home. And as much as finding yourself in the ultimate fantasy world secretly excited you, it scared you. Greatly. You were human in the land of the fae about to meet the strongest High Lord in history. And you had no defenses. But now was no time to be weak. If loving these books had taught you anything, it was that being scared was the perfect time to be brave. You would meet your essential heroes but you would also find your way back home and have a hell of a story waiting for everyone when you got back.

-

well that was fucking shite. hope you enjoyed lol i love yall PS READ THE AUTHORS NOTE!!!!!!!!!!!

[flobro]

Omovember 2020

Day One - In a Vehicle

Kageyama x Reader

Kageyama’s PoV 

Could i get any stupider?

In the rush of Hinata, Y/n and I finishing our tests, scrambling into Tanaks sisters car and setting off immediately for Tokyo I hadnt had time to pee.

Hinata was sat in the front passenger seat as Y/n and I were in the back of the car.

To make matters even worse, i had a huge crush on Y/n and the nerves of sitting next to her were bugging my bladder even more.

I tried to keep my breathing steady because i knew that if i panicked things would only get even worse for my nerves.

I wasnt too desperate yet but the need was still there. We had only been driving for about ten minuets so i definitely couldnt ask how much longer we had to drive yet otherwise everyone would definitely know something was wrong with me.

I crossed my legs which seemed to ease the pressure a little bit and made everything a bit more bearable and i tried to focus my mind on anything but my need to pee.

I jumped slightly as Y/n tapped my shoulder five minuets later and i felt my bladder twinge slightly, making me squeeze my thighs together as descretely as i could.

‘Whats up?’ I asked Y/n, who sent me a stunning smile.

‘You look bored, you wanna listen to some music with me?’ She asked, holding out one of her earbuds to me.

I nodded and shakily grabbed the headphone, ‘Yeah, thanks.’

She just nodded, ‘No problem!’

We had to shuffle slightly closer to eachother so that the earphones could reach to both of our ears and i couldnt help but notice how my seatbelt uncomfortablely pressed down onto my bladder, making my desperation go from a 4/10 to a 7/10.

Hinata and Saeko (Tanakas sister) were chatting happily about volleyball and the tiny giant in the front seats and i was glad that they werent focused on me because then i would feel even more pressured.

Another fifteen minuets had passed and I had tried my best to get lost in Y/n’s music but now my bladder was almost at its maximum capacity and i was beginning to shuffle around a bit, squeezing my thighs together as tight as possible.

Y/n looked at me and yanked the headphone wire, making them fall out of both of our ears.

Y/n went closer to my ear and whispered, ‘Hey, are you okay? You seem uncomfortable?’

My body shivered at the feeling of her breath on my skin and it relaxed my body for a second, making a bit of urine leak out of me.

I gasped and crammed my hands onto my crotch, tensing my body up again, stopping the flow as fast as i possibly could.

Y/n’s eyes widened in realisation and i blushed a deep red, hiding my face away from her, waiting for her to tell me how disgusting and gross i am.

But she didnt...

Instead, she placed a hand comfortingly on my shoulder, her touch making my heart rate speed up even more.

‘Is there anything i can do to help you?’ She whispered to me once again, continuing to keep her voice low so Saeko and Hinata wouldnt ask questions.

I shook my head and tried to calm myself down. There was no way in hell that i was gonna show myself up in front of the girl i like by acting like a four year old.

‘N-no,’ I said, trying to act as calm as possible, ‘Im f-fine dont worry.’

She didnt look like she believed me so i slowly removed my hands from between my legs to try and prove that i wasnt as desperate as it seemed.

Bad idea.

As soon as i took my hands away, another bit of urine left me and i gasped once again, putting my hands back onto my crotch.

This time the flow was harder to control and i knew that there was a 99% chance that there would be a wet patch on my shorts.

Saeko and Hinata must have heard me gasp because their conversation stopped abruptly.

‘You okay back there?’ Sakeo asked and i felt my throat dry up.

Hinata began to turn around to look at us and Y/n and I both panicked, knowing he would see my obvious state of desperation.

Y/n suddenly unclipped her seatbelt and laid accross my lap gently, covering up my crossed legs and hiding my odd hand placement.

Her arm momentarily dug into my stomach, pressing on my overfilled bladder, forcing a two second stream of urine out of me which i painfully cut off, knowing that my boxers were almost fully soaked now.

‘How come your laid down, Y/n?’ Hinata asked her and she sighed.

‘I just feel a bit car sick,’ She said, ‘Do you know how long it will be until we get to Tokyo?’

*Slick* I thought to myself. She had somehow managed to cover up the fact i was about to pee myself AND had a good reason to ask how long it would take until we would arrive.

Hinata frowned, ‘Oh thats not good, i hope you feel better soon!’ and turned back around to look out of the front window.

‘We will arrive in half an hour but were gonna be on this stretch of road for another twenty minuets and wont see another place to stop for a while.’ Saeko said, sounding worried about Y/n.

Y/n frowned at me and sat up again, ‘Okay dont worry, im feeling a bit better after lying down but when we come across a place to stop it would be nice to be stationary for a while.’

Saeko chuckled slightly, ‘Okie dokie! Ill keep that in mind for you!’

Y/n mustve seen the tears in my eyes and my expression showing that i had completely lost hope as she placed an arm around my shoulders, hugging my side for a second before whispering, ‘Sorry i couldnt help you much. Dont stress out, we’ll find a stop for you. You’ll be okay.’

I got butterflies in my stomach from her touch but i ignored them, not wanting to focus on anything else other than holding myself in.

Y/n clipped herself back into her seat and I decided that i would have to speak up. Y/n already knew and Saeko wouldnt make fun of me. Surely i could just scare Hinata into keeping his mouth shut too.

‘C-can you drive a-any faster?’ I shakily asked, panic evident in my voice, ‘I r-really need t-the bathroom.’

Saeko immediately sped the car up, ‘Ill drive as fast as i can. We’ll reach a stop in about fifteen minuets. Can you last?’

I felt a single tear roll down my cheek, feeling pathetic and stupid, ‘I... I d-dont know!’

‘Its usually me who need to pee.’ Hinata said from his seat, making me bubble with anger.

‘S-shut up idiot! This i-isnt funny!’ I growled at him, unable to make my voice any louder.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, putting all my energy into keeping my muscles tensed as much as i possibly could.

My eyes widened as my body began to relax itsself against my will.

‘No... NO.. NO!’ I panicked, ‘YOU N-NEED TO PULL THE C-CAR OVER!’

Saeko quickly turned the wheel and brought the car to the side of the road and i unclipped my seatbelt, threw the door open, and scrambled out of the car.

As soon as i got out i immediately crumbled onto the floor, my legs giving out underneath me as my lap began to feel warm.

Wow. I had really gone and done it hadnt i? I pissed myself in front of my senpais sister, annoying volleyball partner AND my crush. Could it have been any worse?

My shorts were completely soaked and a puddle had began to grow around me. I couldnt even bring myself to try and stop it because my body felt so weak.

No amount of embarassment would ever compare to what i was feeling in that moment. I didnt even want to begin to imagine what Saeko, Hinata and Y/n were thinking of me.

Tears rolled down my cheeks and i kept my head down so no one would be able to see my face.

It took at least a minute for my bladder to fully empty. I felt so pathetic and dumb but there was nothing i could do other than just sit there and wait for myself to be finished.

A pair of shoes came into my line of vision and i looked up slowly to see Y/n with her hand stretched out to me, offering to help me up.

I looked away from her quickly, my voice barely above a whisper, ‘You s-shouldnt touch m-me. Im a-all gross. Even m-my hands.’

She crouched down and placed a hand on my cheek, wiping away one of my tears and making me look up at her, my face even redder.

‘I dont care. Dont stress about it okay? Its a human need. There wasnt anything you could do to avoid it.’ She said in a calm and genuine voice.

I nodded and she grabbed my slightly damp hand. I glanced at her face and she want even slightly disgusted.

I stood up and Y/n kept her hand laced with mine.

We got back into the car, I was sat on a towel. Saeko said that she didnt mind and strangely Hinata hadnt even mentioned it which i was thankful for. Although everyone was being very calm and unaffected by it, i still felt mortified. 

Y/n suddenly lent over to me to whisper in my ear one last time, ‘Dont worry about it so much. Ill always have a crush on you.’

My face reddened as i looked at her, ‘I h-have a c-crush on you too.’ 

Y/n giggled, ‘I guess that makes me your girlfriend then.’

~~~~~~~~~~

hey guys !!

this was my first time writing an omofic so i hope you liked it !!!

~ flobro 

[goodlucktai]

Could you write something with natsume and the squad?? You're writing is absolutely divine!!

i wrote this before work and now im late

x

Kaname hesitates for a second when he realizes what city they’re going to for the weekend, but only for a second. When his friends look around at him with expectant grins, waiting to hear whether or not he’s coming along, Kaname meets them with an easy smile. 

“Of course I’m going,” he says, his arms full of Natsume’s fat cat, his chest full of that squirming joy that comes from being so close to such warm people. “Someone’s got to keep all of you out of trouble.”

It’s a big city, and he hasn’t lived in it for years. What are the odds they’ll run into anyone there that he knows?

And so, naturally, it happens on the first day. 

They found their inn and dropped off all their bags, and now they’re combing the streets for a place to eat lunch– they’ve made it about three blocks when a vaguely-familiar voice says, “Tanuma?”

A boy he went to middle school with is in the middle of the crosswalk, coming over to their side of the street, and he looks incredulous and delighted. Something in Kaname’s stomach sinks like a stone. He’s glad to still be holding Ponta; now he understands why Natsume is often hugging him to his chest like a shield. 

“Yamamoto,” he mutters by way of greeting. 

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again after you dropped out,” the shorter boy says cheerfully. 

“I didn’t drop out. I just couldn’t finish the school year.” Kaname is aware of his friends behind him, quiet and watchful, and wishes the sidewalk would swallow him up, or that there was a yokai was around that might do it. “I was– “

“Sick,” Yamamoto parrots with him, rolling his eyes. “No surprise there. It’s a wonder your parents ever let you out of the house. And what is that?”

He waves at Ponta. The lucky cat bristles. Tanuma doesn’t think it’s safe to soothe him aloud, not when it would only prompt more mockery out of Yamamoto. 

As it is, his old schoolmate is viciously pleased to ask, “Is that your cat?”

“No,” Natsume says abruptly. Kaname jumps a little; he hadn’t expected Natsume to be right by his shoulder. “It’s my cat. Is there a problem?”

That’s a tone Kaname has only heard once before, when Natori tried to warn Taki off of using her grandfather’s circles, and Natsume shut that right down in a big way. It’s the same tone he’s hearing now, and he glances to the side quickly to find his best friend gazing at Yamamoto with cool, dark eyes. 

Yamamoto looks wrong-footed. “Why would there be a problem?”

“You tell me,” Natsume says. “So far you’ve called Tanuma a drop-out and made fun of him for being sick as a child. If those are jokes, I don’t understand them.”

It sounds like– it almost sounds like he’s trying to pick a fight, except that isn’t like him at all. His eyes are dark and cold and somewhat narrow, the way Ponta looks when there’s something in his sights that he can eat if he’s wily enough.

Kaname looks behind him at the other four, stupefied. Adachi, Taki, Kitamoto and Nishimura all have the same expressions of wonder on their face, steeled by the prickly loyalty of protective friends. 

“They’re not– I mean.” Yamamoto doesn’t seem to know what to do with Natsume. He’s always talked to Kaname like this, and years down the road is a little too long and too late to reevaluate his behavior. But it looks like he’s trying, framing his words in this new light, and some of that sharp-edged joy that always stuck to him like armor is peeling away. “Oh.”

He looks at Kaname. Kaname blinks back, equally as confused. 

“Why didn’t you say something?” Yamamoto blurts. “If I’ve been hurting you– “

“It’s not his fault you did,” Natsume says, bristling like his cat. His eyes are impossibly green. He looks like something out of a folktale, melted off the page of a storybook to stand here between Kaname and someone who used to make Kaname relieved to be too ill to go to school. 

“No, I didn’t mean– “ Yamamoto backpedals helplessly. Kaname feels sorry for him. His friends are like a force of nature sometimes. 

“It’s okay,” he says kindly. “We were just kids. I don’t think about it very much. Until I saw you just now, I hardly remembered you at all.”

The shorter boy stares at him, one hand curling into a loose fist and uncurling again at his side. “Oh,” he says. And then, “I’ll let you, uh– sorry for interrupting all of you.” With a quick bow, he’s on his way again, bustling through the crowd on the sidewalk and turning the corner like he’d really rather run. 

“Tanuma,” Nishimura says before anyone else has the chance to speak. He puts a hand on Tanuma’s arm, as serious as the grave. “I’m sorry that happened to you. And that guy was an asshole. But this is the best day of my life.”

“Same,” says Taki immediately.

“Hard same,” says Kitamoto. “I’ve never seen Natsume go off like that before in my life, and now it’s the only thing I want to see forever.”

“Shut up,” Natsume says waspishly. He looks almost jittery, as though there’s all this energy built up inside him that has nowhere to go now that Yamamoto made his escape. “That guy– Tanuma, you– “ After a brief struggle, he blurts, “Is this how you all feel when we meet someone I used to know?”

“Uhh, yeah,” Nishimura says, lifting an eyebrow. “Are you going to stop scolding me for making a scene next time we meet one of your evil cousins?”

“We’ll see.” Natsume looks up at Kaname, and all those hard, angry lines in his face relent into the spring meadow softness of him that is so utterly familiar. “Tanuma, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he says honestly. Aside from that initial dread and embarrassment, he really didn’t have time to feel anything else. “I should have– I mean, I used to live around here, and I didn’t say anything while we were planning our trip.”

“So? Natsume never does, either,” Kitamoto says, slinging a friendly arm around Kaname’s shoulders. He’s the only one of his friends tall enough to do it comfortably. “Even without the heads up, we’re here for you.”

Kaname ducks his head, pleased, and leans into the touch. He never had friends like these growing up– never thought he’d have them, either. He missed the boat, he sometimes thought; he didn’t know how to interact with people his own age, didn’t know how to introduce himself and get to know someone without stumbling over his own mouth and feeling like a fool. He always felt scrutinized but somehow never felt seen. 

But now Kitamoto is here, an arm around him as casual as anything. And Taki is sliding her hand into the crook of his arm, eyes warm and caring. And Nishimura and Adachi are on either side of Natsume, peppering him with questions that seem to be calming him down under the guise of riling him up more. And Ponta is purring in his arms, a throaty rumble that sinks into Kaname’s bones and washes out the lingering bruises anxiety left behind.

And Kaname can feel himself letting go of that lonely boy he used to be. Not all at once, not quite yet, but– maybe soon. 

That night, as they’re arguing over takeout menus at the inn, a few rapid knocks at the door of their room has them all glancing up in some confusion.

“Might be housekeeping?” Kitamoto says. “Tanuma, you’re closest.”

Rolling his eyes, Tanuma nevertheless deftly extracts Nishimura from his person and unfolds himself from the cushion, wandering agreeably over to the door and pulling it open to find– 

“Sorry,” Yamamoto blurts in lieu of a hello, hands pressed together in gassho. “I know you super don’t want to see me right now, I totally get it. But– I backtracked earlier and realized you must have been staying at this inn and I told the lady at the front desk I was a friend of yours– sorry! I just– “

He digs into his pocket and withdraws his phone. Clutching it at his side like a token or a good luck charm, he goes on, “Can we talk? Sometime?”

Behind him, Kaname hears someone getting up. There’s a low round of “ooooh”s from the rest of the peanut gallery, which means it’s definitely Natsume. 

“Give him a chance,” Adachi mumbles, tugging Natsume back into his seat. “You gave me one.”

“That’s different,” Natsume hisses back. “This is Tanuma.” 

Kaname finds himself smiling as he pulls out his own phone. Yamamoto lights up a little bit, expression torn somewhere between surprise and hope. 

“Sure,” Kaname tells him. It’s not even difficult to tell him. “What’s your email?”

[callboxkat]

Infinitesimal (part 24)

Author’s note: I probably shouldn’t have taken the time to write this, but I did, and here it is!

Warnings: self deprecation, guilt, worry, talk of being trapped, illness mention

Word count: 1313

Look for the masterpost in the notes!

...

Virgil shoved the cut piece of baseboard back into place behind him, closing off the entrance to the tunnel, and was immediately shrouded in near-darkness. Virgil practically threw his crutches to the ground in frustration and collapsed to the floor. He fisted his hands in his hair and pulled, barely stopping himself from ripping it out. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” he berated himself in a whisper. How could he do that? He’d fallen asleep! Outside! Just there, for any human to find!

He finally released his hair and scooted a bit further from the tunnel entrance, dragging his crutches after him, before stopping and staring back at the sealed entrance, his back pressed against the wall of the tunnel. Part of him almost expected an enormous hand to yank away the door and come reaching in after him. He knew that was only a paranoid musing, but although he might have been safe now, sealed inside the walls, he didn’t feel like it.  His heart was still racing, and his breath was coming in gasps—definitely not just from the exertion of climbing down that table leg in such a hurry.

He was safe, but… a few more seconds, and he could have been caught. A few more seconds, and he could have lost everything.

“I’m so stupid,” he whispered once more, disgusted with himself.

…

Virgil eventually returned home with his head hung low, shameful as a misbehaving dog facing its master. He quietly crept into his and his brother’s home, not even daring to hope that Emile hadn’t noticed his absence. He had taken as much time as he dared to calm down and smooth his hair down, but he probably still appeared rather frazzled.

He made his way through the main room and into their shared bedroom. Sure enough, as he had expected, Emile looked up at the first quiet tap of his crutches on the floor.

“Morning,” the sick little said. His voice was soft—he couldn’t speak very loudly at the moment without agitating his throat—but he clearly wasn’t happy.

Virgil sort of bobbed his head in a nod. “Morning,” he echoed quietly.

“Mind telling me where you’ve been?”

Virgil sighed and sat down on the floor, setting his crutches at his side. “Sorry,” he said. “I… I went for a walk last night, and I fell asleep. It was stupid of me.” Not technically a lie.

Emile looked at him for a moment, then moved so he was sitting up in the blanket nest. Virgil could see the effort it cost him. “Where’d you go?”

“Just around the second floor. I needed some time to think. I didn’t mean to be gone so long.”

“You didn’t leave the walls, did you?” Emile asked. Before Virgil could answer, his brother jerked slightly, pressing a hand to his mouth to muffle a coughing fit.

Virgil grabbed a nearby cup of water (Emile must have filled it himself) and handed it over. “No, of course not.” That one was definitely a lie. It tasted bitter on his tongue. “I just got a bit restless, so I went and walked around a while.”

“Hm.”

“I stopped for a break, and… I guess I fell asleep.” Virgil rubbed at his face and sighed. “I’m really sorry, Em. I know I pro—I know I freaked you out.”

Emile looked at him for a moment, his eyes searching. “You could say that,” he finally confirmed, sounding drained. “I was about five minutes from going out after you.” He shifted over towards the wall and patted the blankets beside him. “Come on—I can tell you’re still tired.”

Virgil doubted he would get any more sleep after his terrifying awakening that morning, but he obliged. He untied the string he used to secure his crutches from around his torso, set it to the side, and lay down beside his brother. Emile still seemed a little stiff. Virgil supposed he couldn’t blame him—even apart from the lie, Virgil’s carelessness had probably caused quite a deal of stress, which was worse when he was already sick. There were a few long moments of silence before Virgil asked, his voice barely a whisper, “You mad at me?”

“Well,” Emile murmured, “I’m annoyed, I suppose. I’m glad you’re okay. Just—please, don’t do that to me again.”

Virgil guiltily looked away. “I don’t plan to. I’m really sorry,” he sighed. Then, he looked up at Emile and tried to lighten the mood. “Now quit talking, dummy. You’ve gotta be killing your throat.”

Emile smiled, although it looked a little stiff. He took another sip of water, then nodded and lay down too.

Emile fell asleep rather quickly. Virgil couldn’t help but wonder about when he’d woken up to find him gone. Had he been sitting here half the night, trying to decide what to do? Debating if it was worth risking collapsing in the maze of tunnels trying to find someone who might well have been fine? (And Virgil had been fine, in fact. He’d been stupid, and he’d nearly been found, but it wasn’t as if he had actually been harmed). Emile could have gone out there, sick, and ended up in even more trouble. Because of him. Because Virgil was an idiot who fell asleep in a human apartment.

The worst part of this wasn’t even the fact that Virgil had upset Emile so much with his mistake. No, it was the knowledge that this situation wasn’t even that bad, not compared to what was coming. Emile was upset with Virgil for a mistake, for a one-time accident. So how on Earth was he going to ever forgive Virgil once he finally had to tell Emile that he still left the walls? How hurt would he be knowing how often Virgil had lied to him?

Virgil shifted in the blankets, shoving his face into one of the scraps of fabric. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

…

Roman was regarding his closet pensively when his cell phone rang, interrupting his thoughts with its quiet alarm. He paused and stepped back, grabbing the small device off of his nightstand and answering the call. “Hey, Logan. What’s up?”

“Good morning, Roman. I trust I did not wake you?”

“No, I was up. Is there a reason you’re calling?”

He could hear Logan clearing his throat on the other end of the line. “Of course. I thought you might want to know that Patton was acting rather odd this morning. I doubt it is anything to be concerned over, but I thought that I would tell you anyway so that you could investigate further, should you decide it would be beneficial.”

“…Odd how?” Roman asked, shifting the phone to his other hand as he grabbed a few hangers from his closet and got to work laying out his clothes for the day.

“I got the impression that he may have been hiding something from me. He took an unusually long amount of time to answer me this morning when I requested entrance to the living room, and when he finally did allow me in, he seemed flustered, or perhaps nervous. I must admit my ignorance as to why.”

“Well, that could be pretty much anything,” Roman shrugged, picking out a few more items from his dresser. The reasons someone might not let someone else into their room right away way were pretty much infinite.

“That is what I thought as well. I only decided to tell you in case it turned out to be pertinent information.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Roman paused for a second, pursed his lips, and switched one pair of socks for another, which admittedly looked pretty much identical to the first. He nodded to himself, satisfied with his outfit choice. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go. Classes and such.”

“Of course. I will speak with you later.”

“Yep. Seeya, nerd.”

…

Tag list: @arc852 @thats-so-crash @romanasanders @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @anyay666 @bluebloodstains @nightmarejasmine @side-for-sides @infinitesimal-grey @cobythinks @justanotherpurplebutterfly @punsterterry @dylan-winchesters-blog @wofie-kinz @i-like-cookiez @smol-jar-of-pickles @musicwithalex @brookeisanerd @scorching-scotch @of-swords-and-princes @thepoolofthedead @a-black-pegasus @brooky71 @downrightdanny @rainbow-sides  @anxiousvirgilsanderss @picklesandbeyond @super-magical-wizard @opaque-puppet @just-another-rainbowblog @patton-loves-coloring @starryfirefliesbloggo @purplesoul-at-hogwarts  @gaylotusthatexists @quoth-the-sparrow @awesomelissawho @amuthefunperson @faithfreedom @heck-im-lost @gayfandomsaremything

[fiftyshadesgrl]

He saved me/ part 2

Summary: reader is in a avusive relationship. When things take a turn for the worst she finds help in the winchesters.

Warning: this story has torture, smut, laguage, violence, abuse. If youre triggered by any of these i suggest not reading. Feedback is always welcome.

When i woke i was in a hospital bed. I heard the distinct beeping of several monitors to my side. Wires and tubes were attached to me seemingly everywhere. I opened my eyes a little and the bright light above me made me shut them quickly. I groaned as the pain in my head started once again. I felt a warm hand on mine. I turned towards the touch and opened my eyes again. I blinked several times to clear my vision. A man sat beside my bed a worried look on his face. He had short hair and the most beautiful green eyes i had ever seen.

"Hey, youre awake." He said in a rough voice. I looked around confused and fear started to settle in again.

"Where.... where....." i tried to ask but my throat was so dry. He stood then and walked across the room to retrieve a cup of ice water. He placed the straw to my lips and moaned as the cold liquid soothed my dry as sand throat.

He waited patiently as i drank my fill. When i was done he placed the cup on the table beside the bed. He sat back down beside me. "Dont worry sweetheart. Youre safe. Youre in the hospital." He spoke softly and i could tell by his eyes and voice he was kind. I felt safe for some odd reason, i didnt even know him.

"Who are you?" I rasped out weakly.

"Im dean, me and my brother sam brought you here. What the hell happened to you?" He asked in a serious tone.

My heart beat started racing as the machine started beeping more and more. My breath started to get shallow thinking about parker and what he done. Not to mention what he will do when he finds me.

"Hey, hey, calm down. Its okay you dont have to talk about it now. Whats your name?" He said soothingly.

"(Y/N)." I croaked. "My boyfriend did this." I motioned to myself. His jaw clenched and i saw the muscle working overtime. His eyes changed from caring to fury. I felt fear creeping up my spine as he looked into my eyes.

"Whats that bastards name? Was he in your house? Ill kill him." Dean said standing up from his seat beside my bed. He started pacing back and forth until i spoke.

"Can you please sit down dean?" It came out as a whisper. I expected him to shout at me. Telling me i had no right to ask him of anything and worse. I expected him to hit me. After all thats what i was used to. Dean seemed to notice where my thoughts were at. He held up is hands in a surrendering motion and walked slowly back to the chair beside the bed.

"Dont worry sweetheart, im not going to hurt you. I promise no one will ever hurt you again." I sighed a relieved sigh and relaxed back into the bed. Sleep was pulling heavily at me and i didnt want to fight it. I was just to tired.

Before i closed my eyes i heard dean say. "Im not going anywhere."

"What do you want to do about him?" A strange voice asked.

"I want to rip him apart with my bare hands. You heard the doctor, everything that happened to her." That was deans voice. He was talking to another man about me.

"I checked the house and hes not there. Probably cut and run when he realized she had escaped." The other man said.

"I dont care sam, hes around here somewhere. I wont stop until he gets what he deserves." Dean said, he tried to keep his voice restrained but i could tell his anger was getting to him.

I heard the other man sigh. "What about cas? Cant he help her?" This must be sam, deans brother.

"I havent asked her about it yet. I dont want to put to much on her. Shes under enough stress as it is."

Who is this cas theyre talking about? What could he possibly help me with?

I grrunt and open my eyes the pain in my head isnt as bad as it was but i was sure feeling it everywhere else. Dean is sitting right by my bed where he was earlier. Across the room i see a massive man sitting in the other seat. He has long brown hair that touches his shoulders and a massive build.

Dean notices that im awake and grabs my hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Like i was run over by a 18 wheeler several times." I say weakly.

Dean give a remorseful smile and then points over to the seat being occupied by the large man. "Thats my brother sam. Hes been trying to track down your boyfriend."

I swallowed hard at the fear that crept up at the mention of parker.

"Did...did you find....parker?" I stumble over my words as i begin to shake. Sam shook his head as deans grip tightend on my hand.

"Sorry, he has either left town or is hiding somewhere local. He more than likely knows someone will be coming for him now that you escaped." Sam said with a shrug.

"Hes not gone. Hes somewhere close. He isnt scared of the cops or anyone." I say with tears building in my eyes.

Dean wipes them away with his thumb. "He doesnt know real fear but ill make sure to take care of that. He will beg for death before im done with him."

I smile kindly at dean, "you dont have to put yourself in harms way for me. Hes smart, hes dangerous and he has connections all over this town and probably several more across the state. Hes not going to stop until he has me back. Hes not going to stop until im dead." The words just spill out for no reason. Im guessing its because i held it in for all these years that it felt good to actually talk to someone.

"Thats not going to happen. I meant what i said when i told you no one will hurt you ever again. We will protect you. I will protect you." Dean growled but said the last part softly. Just then the doctor decided to walk in.

"Hello (Y/N) im doctor gram. How are you feeling?"

"My head isnt hurting like it was but im really sore and hurting everywhere else."

The doctor nodded and checked the monitors. "Thats understandable considering all your injuries. Can you tell me what happened?"

I sighed hating to actually have to tell the whole story in front of dean and sam but im sure theyll find it out sooner or later.

"I was in a abusive relationship for the past two years. My boyfriend did this. He raped me, he cut me, he stabbed me and smashed my head into the walls and floor. He tied me up and ripped something in my leg. He choked me and bit me. Punched me until i couldnt see straight." I took a deep breath in and the doctor just nodded and held up his hand. The fury that was coming from dean was scary.

"Yes you tore your ligaments and muscles in your leg. Youll have to have surgery to fix that but we want you to be a little more stable to do that. Gentlemen if youll excuse us for a few minutes while i examine (Y/N)." Doctor gram said to dean and sam. Sam nodded and dean sat still for a moment. He kissed the back of my hand and that surprised me. "Ill be right outside the door. Im not going anywhere." Dean said as he stood up, him and sam walked out the door shutting it on their way out.

"So (Y/N), your skull is fractured in two places. Your nose is broken, you also have three broken ribs. Torn ligaments and muscles in your leg. We stitched up the cuts and stab wounds that was inflicted. Your vagina also had major lacerations that needed stitching. I need to check those if you dont mind." Dr gram said in his no nonsense doctor voice. I nodded and he lifted the blanket and my hospital gown as he examined me.

I shut my eyes and felt the bile rising in my throat as he was looking at me. I just had a uneasy feeling with him or anyone being that close to me. He lowered the blanket back and began writing on his clipboard. "Your stitches look good. Parker did a job on you didnt he?"

[ideclaremarvel]

Open Mic

Steve Harrington x Reader

Introduction: Hello!!!! Is ya girl i haven't made a story in so long and i am just in love with Steve and billy from stranger things because who wouldn't ? and just everyone so i might make new stories of those characters. Olala but i'm not taking in any request! ): im sorry just have a busy life and I want to focus on one character at a time. Bare with me i'm rough it's been so long!!

Not sure how long the series will be put i want it to be long and cool haha. Everyone is alive bc i cant wait til season 4 !!! idk how i feel about it but here ya go this probably sucks sorry

warnings: drinking and drugs nothing too bad 

Chapter 1: 

Summary:  After the events at Starcourt Mall, destroying the flayer monster and everyone still managed to come out alive, everyone who was everyone decided to go their own ways. The Byers family moved away along with El & Hopper. As a gift Hop fixed up his cabin for you to stay since it was somewhat destroyed by the Flyer monster. You work at a small bookstore in Starcourt Mall along with Nancy. town there's a small bar that you occasionally read your poetry to the drunken people, it was only for the weekend random people from the bar or around the neighborhood would read their poetry/stories, no one you knew went here. 

“Hey Nac, is it alright with you if I head out now?” 

looking down your watch it read 7:30 it was Friday and the mall closed at 9, you just want to get home have a shower possibly change clothes before heading down to Dragons Corner Bar. you found this bar when you were tripping on shrooms walking through some woods, thought you were walking in wonderland in the middle of October here a Hawkins. What's odd about the bar was it was hidden, the driveway is long and the parking was big enough to fit probably 100 cars but there's always people walking here. People who are not from your town. Every time you went you felt like you've entered dark ages of dragons, princesses, kings and queens, the entire bar was shaped as a castle. 

“Yeah that's fine Y/N, go enjoy your night!” she said with a smile, she usually takes closing on Fridays and you'd take Saturday, as a win win, both satisfied.

As you were leaving the store looking around starcourt so many families laughing, kids running around at their playstation, mothers sitting all together chatting who knows what. A Lot of people from Hawkins high are always here but luckily for you, an exit next to your store. It was a blessing. Avoiding big crowds and possible interactions with people from school isn't what you want. You hated it. Weirdly enough your friends with Nancy who used to be popular, both of you guys are opposite personalities, you will like the odd one out considering you love rock/punk bands and wearing dark clothes, but you always made it look cute making some popular girls angry. You found it amusing. 

Walking to your car wasn't much of a walk since they have a section for employees to park, another blessing this Mall has to offer. As you were unlocking your car, you heard the door the mall opened. You wiped  your head around, only to find your favorite crush wearing his cute sailor uniform, ‘thank god i don't have a dress code’ you thought.

 “Steve! Ahoy mate!!” 

giving your best pirate voice and mimicking dancing around in excitement to seeing him, Steve on the other hand that it was bad and laughed. 

You loved the way he laughed it was gentle and soft, not enough to roll your eyes but enough to keep making him laugh forever  “Y/N enjoyed the attempt but that was bad!” Steve laughed clutching his stomach like he couldn't breathe

He was wiping away tears that went down from all the laughter” i must say cute little dance you did, ya missed me that much?” Steve said sending you a wink.  

“are you done now? I tried okay don't give me your bs” you rolled your eyes trying to be sassy.

 “Hey now i said it was cute” Steve said while taking off his shirt in front of you, not caring if anyone saw. You couldn't help but stare a little bit, he was fit, nice arms, toned, abs looked so nice you'd want to lick them. Snapping out of your trance of the boy, you went into your car, open the glove compartment to get a small bag containing rolled joints. picked one out throwing the bag onto your passenger seat, fumbling in your purse for a lighter. Groaning not having one on you. 

“Need a light?” Steve said holding out his lighter already having the flame dancing for you

Leaning over to light the joint perfectly placed between your lips, inhaling and exhaling before handed it off to Steve, you always loved smoking with him. hell, he's the one that got you into it in the first place. 

“Did you roll this?” Steve asked admiring the perfectly rolled joint like he's never seen one nicely rolled, twirling it around if with his fingers. 

“Yeah, I usually like to roll a couple at a time and light one whenever” taking the joint from Steve, you briefly touch his hand, that alone gave you small butterflies, sending you shivers all throughout your body.

“How was work? It was pretty busy up at Scoops, god little kids are a bit annoying not knowing what flavor they want” 

Steve said frustrated touching the back of his head “robin took care of most of them trying to get them to leave already” he said taking the joint from you inhaling, exhaling the smoke trying to make a ring. Failed but he tried. 

“Work was okay, had a few customers come in to buy books, rearrange a small area in the back with Nancy. Were thinking about getting a rescue dog or cat to keep around the bookstore, so were making a little hang out area for people to read their books and have a nice time with animal” 

you smiled at the thought of it coming together, you were more excited to adopting a kitty. Steve was looking at you smiling, admiring just how beautiful you are and sometimes he wonders if he should ask you out, he always had this crush on you but from all the rejections he's gotten asking you made him nervous.

 He found it sexy just watching you hitting the joint, sometimes he wants to take your face in his hands and kiss you till your lips fall off but he couldn't he was too scared. He really wants to.

“Should get both? Don't you live at the cabin all alone? Get a cat for the bookstore since they are low maintenance and they can take care of themselves”  

“I actually haven't thought of that, being alone in the cabin doesn't get lonely, im used to it, peaceful. Besides i asked Nancy to move in since she wants to be away from her house” you took a couple more hits off of the joint before burning it out. Looking towards the sky above trying to look at the stars but it was cloudy so nothing was out. 

“I can take you to a shelter and help you pick a cat or dog, whichever you'd want” Steve said giving you a small grin like a little small boy, ugh you thought to yourself, sometimes you think he likes you but you're sure he flirts with every girl. 

“Yes i would love that, maybe get food after? My treat” you said singly leaning over to him giving him the biggest smile ever

“Yeah we can eat burgers and milkshakes, how does that sound? I know a place we can go” Steve said while getting down off of your car hood, stretching showing a little of his abs. ‘Fuck’ you thought to yourself. ‘Why am I like this’ thinking this made you groan in annoyance hat Steve picked up

“ whats up Y/N ? watcha got going on tonight? Steve asking while fixing and trying to style his fluffy hair that you oh so loved.

“Gonna go home, refresh myself and then read a book, easy night for a long day” you lied to him, you didn't want no one knowing where your little secret bar was, you didn't want anyone to hear about your poetry. 

Especially Steve, sometimes you write about your feelings about him but still you'd rather hide it and not have anyone know about it except well for Nancy she’d know about the crush you have for Steve for awhile now, she says it shows all over my face whenever he's around. Never got what she meant but never cared.

“Sounds relaxing to me, i'm going to meet Dustin and everyone for a drive a Quarry, ill see you around princess” Steve said while getting into his car, rolling down his window flashing you the prettiest smile “i hope you enjoy your night Y/N” waving to you while driving off. 

“I wish you'd kiss me” you said out loud but no one but you heard that. Getting into your car you drove off.

Entering dragons corner everyone knew you, pretty much you will come here to escape being alone at home and nights when your thoughts got too much and a drink is what you need. 

“Hey Y/N welcome back!” 

Tom yelled from behind the corner waving at you. 

“Hey Tom! Hows Betta?”

 you smiled and waved taking a seat next to Lewis the other bar owner. Betta is tom's wife for over 40 years! You wish you find your soulmate and be together long, sounded cheesy but it's something you've always wanted. “Whats up girl” Lewis said going in for a fist bump. 

“Betta doing good, she's been out of town visiting her mother and sisters” he said while mixing up your usual drink, dirty pina colada. not one for beer because of the taste and itll reminded you too much of your stupid father. “You miss her? Whens shes coming back?” you asked wondering when she’ll be back, she treated you like her own daughter after some poetry sessions you'd cry so badly in the bathroom, since you became a regular and pretty cool, they gave you a key for the back office that's so quiet and away from all the noise.

 “She should be coming tomorrow, she's been gone for 3 weeks! Not having her around the bar have been so quiet” he said coming around the bar, taking a seat next to you. 

“Here made your favorite, added a lil too much of alcohol but it should be okay” tom said giving you the drink with 3 cherries on top because he knows how much cherries are your favorite.

Taking a gulp from the drink you can slightly tell the more alcohol in this, burned your throat a bit but the chillness of the drink helped.

“The drink is wonderful and much needed” enjoying the drink while looking around its a full house, lots of people. Just thinking about being on the stage made you sick but thats why having one dirty pina colada was enough

 “Open mic is gonna be starting soon, i think Lewis is getting the mic set up” he said standing up from his chair stretching and sighing 

“It's been awhile since we got this much people, betta would be happy” 

You had your journal with you with all of your notes of places, people you meet, drugs you've tried, and all the poetry you wrote. It's something you don't want to ever lose. 

“Can I go first this time?” I asked nicely, giving him my biggest pout.

“Yeah i gotchu, want another drink? Virgin?” asked before wanting to add anything, he knew you drove here, doesn't want you to be impaired while driving, he cares about you too. 

“Yeah, thanks I appreciate it” accepting the drink while Lewis stands on stage getting everyone's attention.

“Welcome welcome our insomniac and alcoholics…..

Earning a chuckled from the crowd. 

Welcome to Dragons Corner, tonight we are hoisting our open mic and everyone who is everyone is able to come up here, thank you all for coming and enjoy your evening!!!’’ earning a loud cheer from everyone and having the small fainted of jazz music played, they like to keep it quiet when people are talking but not having any dead silence could get boring and make the readers nervous too. 

“We'd like to start off with our favorite writers Y/N!!” Lewis said clapping towards my direction to motion me on the stage having everyone cheering for me made all my jumping nervous calm again.

“Hello everyone, im Y/N and i will be reading some sort of love poem for someone that i wish would notice me, alright here we go…

When i think of you i think of all the good things life has to offer

like coffee on an early morning 

the first sight of the sunset or sunrise

Or when someone falls in love for the first time

The way you smile 

The way you laugh

The way your hair is poofy and curly

Sharing smokes, secrets, food, love

I wonder what's it like to kiss you

To touch you

To feel you touch my skin

I wonder what's it like making love to you 

My lips ache for yours 

Please notice me

Notice me how birds notice a worm on the pavement 

Notice me

I want to give you the world in this cold lonely world

Notice me………”

You finished and stepped off the staged, everyone snapping their fingers no one clapped during open mic it was just more quieter and better. “Who is this lover boy?hmmm” Lewis said walking down the bar and meeting your gaze

“This kid named Steve, i went to school with him. He was this big king of Hawkins high before Billy came into town and took that title. Steves sweet and nice. He's always looking out for me” 

you said smiling just thinking of him made your stomach want to do flips, just something about im made you feel so alive, he’d always make sure you were okay. 

“Does he feel the same?” asked while cleaning around being busy but still talking to you 

“I'm not sure, well i don't know, i wish i knew..” just the thought of him liking someone else made you sick and sad. You just wanted to be his.

“You're too wonderful Y/N, i bet he does feel the same” giving you a pat on the shoulder and giving you a warm smile the one that says ‘you got this’ 

You let out the biggest sigh and decided to head out. “Alright Lewis, Tom i'll see you guys tomorrow night!” waving at both of them as you were leaving the magical castle. Stepping outside was a little more chiller than before but luckily you dressed warm. Turning on your car playing fleetwood mac.

Returning to your cabin, you've decorated it with tiny lights so when you've come home in the middle of the night you can see where you're going and not fall and hit yourself like last time before buying the lights, recalling the memory and the pain you just glad it wasn't anything major. Although the figure waiting on your porch was something you didn't expect. 

“Steve?” you questioned the figure it was dark you couldn't tell who it was

“Hey Y/N..” he replied with a little sadness in his voice something you notice right away 

“Lets go inside, got something on your mind?” asked curiosity hoping it wasn't anything but bad but just wanted a friend

“I thought you were here like you said earlier but no one answered so I waited, it was only an hour, i dropped Dustin off and i wanted to see you again..” he smiled towards your direction while being distracted with your living room and how nice it looks.

“It's so cozy here” he said eyes wandering around can't seem to be fixed on something

“I try to make it as cozy as possible since it's just me, i need my home relaxing environment. It helps alot” you said while disappearing into your room to change into pjs, you hadn't realized you forgot to put on pants because your tipsy mind forgot about Steve

“Cute butt” Steve said while checking out your ass, couldn't help himself but also want to embarrass you. Realizing this you ran to your room to grab a pair of shorts 

“My bad, had small drink” your face redder than a tomato at this point. Steve on the other hand found it adorable you blushed really dark red 

“Soo steve why are you here and no home?” completely forgot about why he was waiting for you

“Well i wanted to see a movie but not alone and so i thought of you, i have movies we could watch” steve taking out 2 movies from his jacket and handing it to you 

“Halloween 2 and Alien, hmmm horror type? Lets watch alien i love Ripley” popped the movie in and went over to the couch where Steve started to get comfy

“Would you want to stay? It's late and I wouldn't want you to drive” you asked hopefully it'll be a yes since you could possibly ask to cuddle later on. You looked over to Steve lost in thought but snapped back to reality quickly when you asked him to stay  

“If you don't mind, we can make pancakes tomorrow” he said with a soft smile 

“Yeah i'd love that” 

[wolfpawn]

When Ghosts Come For Us

Chapter 50

NOTE This is based on the movie Crimson Peak, so if any of the subject matter in that was uncomfortable for you, you will find this similar. I will *NOT* be describing incest in this, it will only be implied, same as the movie.

As I have stated already, my laptop is broken at present so please excuse grammar mistakes and the lack of GIFs and pics.

Also, I do not own any image or gif used in this story.

HERE is the link to Chapter 1 on Ao3

Rating - Mature

“I’m fine.” “Lady Sharpe...” “Mrs Matthews, I said I am fine, please, my letters and some writing material,” Charlotte ordered before shifting slightly. “Perhaps a blanket behind my back?” Margaret immediately complied, recalling when Charlotte was on forced bedrest carrying Thomas Jr and liked to sit up in the bed. “Thank you.” It had been over two weeks since she had caught pneumonia and had been forced to fight for her life. She was grateful at least that she was so delirious with fever, she had not felt her body be forced to cease making milk. According to one of the nursemaids, that was horrid and meant burning and painful breasts. “Little graces” Charlotte had called it. She was still weak, her voice was barely more than a whisper as her throat was still recovering and she was only about to drink liquidised meals and most of which seemed to be chicken soup, but she was fine with it. She did not mind the meal and she could feel her body strengthen with every bowl.

She demanded that Thomas be brought in twice a day to her again. She knew she was too weak to even hold him, but she wanted to see him and have him see her. She was terrified that he would forget her in their time apart and that would hurt her more than any beating her parents ever inflicted on her. She had decided to write to her brother and her husband.

As Thomas suspected, as soon as she was over the fever stage, she was adamant she would defeat her illness and under no circumstance was he to engineer a situation where Mr Brown would gain from them any more than they had to bribe him with. Her first order when given a piece of paper to write with in her weakened state was to telegram Thomas and tell him to stay in Allerdale Hall and ready everything. She knew as well as Thomas that Mr Brown would see that the mines were more profitable than even they had thought it would be and with the local police station being the first of many new and local contracts they had been asked for, there was high chance that if he would not go for Charlotte’s fortune but that he would focus on the mine’s deeds and she could not allow that. That was her son’s future, his guarantee of wealth after she left this world and there was no way she would risk it. If she were to die, she would still die with or without Thomas being in Pembrokeshire.

Dearest Edward,

I miss you terribly. I know that were you here, you would have my head hurting from the lectures of what was I thinking. I can even hear your voice as you say it, that little vein in your forehead only fit to pop because of the frustration my actions have caused you. I am so sorry, big brother. I am sorry for the stress and concern I have thrust upon you. I am fine, tired, worn and more than a little cold, but fine, nonetheless.

I have done nothing but eat chicken soup these past two weeks, I fear if I eat much more, I will begin to grow feathers!

I finally seem to be able to wiggle my toes again. I was worried for a time, they seemed reluctant to even work, all I felt there was coldness, it was not pleasant. I had to be bought workmen’s socks, several pairs. I look ridiculous, I think you would find it funny also.

I love you, Edward, so very much. While I was ill, I thought of you. I dreamt that you and Joanne wed and that you had a little girl with the most beautiful auburn hair. I do not know why I saw her with that particular colour hair, you are blonde haired and Joanne is brown, but if you saw her, I wanted to cuddle her so tight, she was the most beautiful little thing. She looked a lot like you. I hope it comes to pass. It brought me joy in my sickness.

Tell Joanne I think of her too, and Mrs Davies, of course. I hope to embarrass you many times more with her come spring. I think when I return to Cumbria, I will make more time to visit her and you too, I suppose (I jest). I realise here how alone I am, even in Allerdale Hall. It is unhealthy and I will have to rectify that.

I fear I must rest now. I did not think writing would exhaust me so, yet I find myself fighting sleep now.

I love you, Edward.

Please look out for Thomas if you see him.

Charlotte.

She forced herself to stay awake long enough to write the address and seal the letter. “Margaret?” “Yes Ma’am?” her ever faithful maid was to her side a moment later.

“Keep these together. I have written to Dr Thompson of what was said of my condition, I will write to my husband when I wake.” “Of course, Ma’am. I will not have Dr Thompson’s posted until you write to Sir Thomas,” Margaret swore as she took the small tray Charlotte had been using to write on away. “Thank you. I just need a small rest.” With that, she lay her head on the pillow and closed her eyes.

Used to her routine from when she had served Charlotte on bedrest, Margaret removed the extra blanket behind Charlotte and placed it to the side, knowing it caused her back to arch too much as she slept before going and informing Mrs Matthews of such.

*

“What was she like in Cumbria?” Jane, the maid who shared with Margaret asked.

“She is so lovely, she always smiles and is kind. She makes sure Mrs Phillips and I bring home extra food if we’re hungry.” “Don’t you live at the house?” “No, it’s too old and parts of it are falling down. I mean, Lady Sharpe is ‘avin’ it fixed in all, but that ‘ouse is only fit to be knocked. It’s sinking into the clay.” “She really is foolish if she is wasting money doing that.” Margaret frowned. She didn’t like how people dismissed Charlotte as a silly woman with little thoughts of substance. She knew that Charlotte was well read and always seemed to know all the odd and complex things Sir Sharpe’s machines did. She didn’t seem as silly as people thought her to be. “I dunno. She seems to know some stuff.” “She went out in the rain and nearly got killed. She fed her baby herself. I don’t think she is smart enough to be left with so much money. It’s a good thing she married a businessman, according to Mrs Matthews, they are worth even more now.” Margaret said nothing. She walked into Thomas’s workshop more than once with his tea to see her employers discussing business decisions together. One time, she heard Sir Thomas state very clearly that Charlotte’s idea had made them a small fortune. Even if she was not the smartest woman, recalling her leaving the house a few days after Master Thomas was born in anger and postnatal hormones, she clearly was not without some mind. “I dunno but what I do know is, if I ever marry, I want to be like ‘er and Sir Sharpe.” “They love each other?” “It’s more than love. D’you know when people talk about soulmates, ‘ow they say they just know each other and are like dance partners, perfectly matched?” Jane nodded. “That’s them. They always seem so ‘appy to just sit with each other and read some book. I see ‘ow Sir Sharpe looks at her, like she is some sort of rare thing, y’know, som-ing not everyone sees and ‘e is like, amazed by it. He loves ‘er so much and the way she smiles at ‘im.” “Wow, I don’t think we’ll ever see that.” Jane was envious at the fairytale-like manner her employers seem to love one another.

“What, not wiv John the gardener?” Margaret jested, referencing the man of forty years of age that seemed to salute the maids as though there were any chance teenage girls would find him attractive. Both girls snorted in laughter at that.

“The only way I would marry an older man is if he was like Mr Hamilton, God rest him.” “What d’you mean?” “Well, before Lady Sharpe was Lady Sharpe, she was Lady Hamilton, did you know that?” Margaret nodded, Mrs Phillips had told her such when she went to Allerdale Hall. “Well, he was fifteen years Lady Sharpe’s senior. Apparently, as nice as they were to one another, and Mr Hamilton was fond of her, she was here to give him children and that alone, hence him choosing a young bride.”

“Oh.” “Yeah, apparently he took her from marrying some young man and paid his fees for him to become a doctor as a way of buying her off him.”

Margaret’s mind immediately went to Dr Thompson and the fact that Lady Sharpe had written him before writing to her husband. “Really?” “Yeah, that’s why I heard anyway.” Jane shrugged.

“According to Mrs Phillips, she is a cousin of that doctor.” “Why would you push for your husband to pay for some cousin to become a doctor?” “I ‘eard his father died when he was young and she wanted to ‘elp ‘im.” “No one helps like that.” “Lady Charlotte does. She went and found him a suitable courtship too, wiv a lovely girl from our town. She genuinely cares for people.” “If she cared that much, she’d pay us more.”

Margaret silenced, she could see no matter what, Jane thought little of Lady Charlotte, a woman she cared for as an employer. She always checked on her wellbeing in Allerdale Hall and her kindness to care for her wellbeing in Foxgrove also came to the fore.

*

Thomas looked around warily. The shadows were becoming more and more frequent, as were the cries. When Mrs Phillips left each night, he became all the more skittish. What scared him even more was that Blake seemed aware of said shadows also. Since Charlotte sent a letter to him explaining she was feeling better and that she wished for the work to end soon so that she could see him again, the art room seemed to be far warmer again and Blake seemed to cease his pining in there from the day before the telegram came, in fact, it ceased the day the telegram was dated from as the date that Charlotte had written it. Instead, Thomas noticed that Blake seemed to have taken on a new role; He was now acting as Thomas’s guardian. When Thomas thought he saw shadows or felt a presence near him in the empty house, Blake was by his side, ready to attack, growling and baring his teeth if required at the direction of the shadows. He would not be parted from Thomas now, he clearly felt it his duty to protect his master, even from the unknown.

Tags @whovianwookie86-captainxev @ilovekingt @sigridlaufeyson @lokiloveheart @lokilover9 @texmexdarling @perpetual-fangirl @wolfsmom1

[angstyteeninthegayscene]

Punk Goes Pop-Klance au

I’ve got a lot happening in the next few weeks, so I’ll try to get pt 9 up in the next day or so, so y’all have something in case I don’t have time to write. Enjoy!

First-Previous-Next-AO3

Pt 8

The rest of the day was spent playing video games and eating junk food, allowing Shiro to let loose and Keith to feel a bit of normalcy after his stressful weekend. It neared 9 when Shiro called it quits, so he could grade a few papers before bed. Keith powered down the X-box and retreated to his room to go to bed early, so he could maybe get a decent amount of sleep.

PJ-clad and ready for bed, Keith crawled under the covers and unlocked his phone to pull up a podcast to listen to. He remembered Hunk telling him about the new video from his “internet rival” and switched from his podcast app to Youtube to check it out quickly. He looked through the comments of his Rihanna video and sure enough there it was.

BlueTailor69: I warned you, Brogaynes <www.youtube.com/fakelink>

He snorted and clicked. The page redirected to the video and Keith shook his head when he saw the title, smiling at its ridiculousness, Bring Me To Life Evanescence Remix- also known as Brogaynes is a terrible person and I hate him.

The song opened with an instrumental bit, heavy with anticipation, the beat gradually growing through the first verse. After the first line of the chorus, it dropped hard into a stretch of classic dubstep. The song repeated that pattern, slow build with samples of the original song and heavy drop, one more time before ending on a synthetic trill.

If Keith didn’t have a predisposed hatred of all things dubstep, he would have liked the song. He clicked into the description expecting another snide comment like last time, but it was empty. He scrolled through the comments and saw nothing there either. He thought that was a bit odd and out of character, but dismissed it because they’d never interacted, so there was no reason for him to know anything about this person’s character or be concerned.

He switched back to his podcast app, pulling one up, and closed his eyes. Before he knew it, the hosts said their outro an hour later and Keith was still very awake. He groaned and rolled over to grab his phone. He debated playing another one, but he didn’t feel anywhere near falling asleep, so he opened Twitter with the hope that some mindless scrolling would do the trick.

The racing in his mind gradually slowed as he went through his feed. He passed a list of recommended users, quickly scrolling back up for a double take. No way, he thought, his mind fully alert again, and clicked on the user profile. Sure enough, there it was. BlueTailor69 had a twitter and it was exactly what could be expected. The profile picture was a black background with Fuck You, Brogaynes in white Comic Sans and the description read, I exist solely to spite Brogaynes. Besides, he started it.

Keith couldn’t fight the disbelieving laugh that bubbled up as he scrolled through his tweets.  They were pretty much all replies to Keith’s tweets, consisting mostly of various snips and jabs at the songs he covered. He looked again at the most recent tweet, linking to his Evanescence cover, his brows furrowing as he read the caption. Had a shitty weekend so cut me some slack. I can still hate you in any headspace though @BrogaynesMusic ;) That must have been why there was no sarcastic commentary on the video.

Before thinking it through, Keith hit the message button and typed out a quick You ok? Once it sent, he realized that that was probably a bad idea. This guy was likely some troll who just enjoyed fucking with people because he had nothing better to do with his life and wasn’t worth Keith’s time to be worried about. Before he could fully second-guess his decision, his phone pinged.

BlueTailor69: ???

Keith stared at the message bubble, just as confused as to why he was messaging this guy as he was.

BrogaynesMusic: You said you had a shitty weekend. Just asking if you were ok

You stalking me now brogaynes? Was ruining Beyoncé not enough for you?

No, you popped up in recommended and I was just trying to be nice. Sorry for caring. Keith huffed indignantly as he typed the message and sent it.

Dude im kidding lol

… oh

Sarcasm doesn’t translate well over messaging lol knew I should have used an emoji To answer your question, not really? I found out some stuff that upset me and then I was a dick about it Still need to apologize for that

I had a bad weekend too if that makes you feel better

You want me to revel in your sadness to cure mine?

No? just trying to sympathize

ik I was kidding again I really gotta use emojis with u dude

leave me alone

you messaged me broski

…fair sorry I shouldn’t have bugged you

Nah youre good man cant sleep anyway

same

we can talk to each other til we fall asleep, how romantic!! Rivals to lovers! They can make a movie about us! I totally ship it

why are you like this

I didn’t get enough attention as a child im sleep depraved and lucid I hate myself and veil my insecurities with humor take your pick

-_-

:D

(－‸ლ)

Oooooooo fancy how u do that??

skill, you scrub

rude

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

That’s it ive decided your emoji game is too fly for me not to be in love w/ you

k?

I just declared my love and all you have to say is k? K?

k?

you bastard to think I ever loved you

are you always this dramatic

I was an attention-starved middle child. I learned fast

Makes sense going to school for acting then? wait, you’re not some creepy 56 year old who preys on people on the internet right??

Lol im a sophomore in college, music production major actually and I bet you really insulted some lonely 56 year old who scours the internet for companionship to fill his empty soul

Just checking

wbu? You’re not some 56 year old who lures people in with his deceptively youthful voice are you?

Nope, college sophomore too

See! That can’t be a coincidence, we were meant to be together!

Youre weird

Thx I try what are you in for?

Performing arts

Imma take a stab and say singing?

Yep

Nice you could go far with that

I thought you hated my music

Subject matter, not quality you have a really good voice

Thx

Youre supposed to say, you too

Fishing much?

I have a fragile ego and no concept of self worth, I need constant validation

Relatable I hate dupstep, but you’re not terrible

That was painful for you to say wasn’t it

A little, not gonna lie

Well Ill take it anyway :) u tired yet

Keith stifled a yawn as he got the last message.

Yeah a little

Im that boring huh

Shut up, you asked

ik lol feel free to sign off if youre ready to sleep

nah im goodigeudjlflllllllll

you feel asleep in your phone didn’t u lol good night dude