#remember that black lives still matter

[sukibenders]

The US justice system is so....because it's the way Anna Delvey, who scammed and swindled dozens of people got to perform on Dancing with the Stars while wearing her ankle monitor but an innocent black man, Marcellus Williams, was executed for a crime he didn't commit even though there was evidence proving he probably didn't do it, prosecutors and others involved in the case were advocating for his innocence with the old Missouri governor at the time of his first initial execution date creating a small team to investigate his innocence, but the family of the victim themselves was advocating that Williams was innocent and should be off Death Row. And it did nothing.

[dark-moon-blg]

[nightly-ruse]

TUMBLR FIXED THE TEXT LETS GOOOOOOO

Anyways I actually meant to point out that a whole 208 of u ppl are following me??? That’s crazy thank u so much

[trans-leek-cookie]

its late-ish so my thoughts won't be well organized. Well they'll be even less well organized but anyway. I don't think murder is inherently like... Evil like it's not good but there are people who I believe the world is better off with them dead and I don't really care if it happens naturally or by another person's hand. But I can't stand the idea of fucking. Okay the specific concept I'm thinking about are "conscious rounds"- basically if someone was to be executed by firing squad there would be random guns with blanks so theoretically you might not have been the one to shoot the person to death. And I can't abide by that. Even if a murder is justified I don't think it can be justified by fucking self reassurance. I think if you are going to be involved in killing a person you should know exactly what you're doing. And I don't think this is like, something that will make people "better" necessarily (there are people who would prefer to know how they hurt someone and ended their life) but I think it's irresponsible to allow people to distance themself from the deaths they cause. And I think that's broadly true- we should be aware of like, the people who die or are hurt in the process of food, technology, clothing, etc. production because I don't think ignorance or self soothing does any good. Even if people don't care we need to know wether we want to or not.

And just. There are obviously more complex arguments that need to be made and refined and discussed but where I started with opposing the death penalty is internalizing that 1. Obviously, we aren't fucking clairvoyant- innocent people will die because of mistakes 2. Many of the ppl subjected to the death penalty will be marginalized and Black people are especially vulnerable because of antiBlackness) 3. The potential abuse of the system to falsely accuse people is enough to negate any possible "justice" the death penalty could provide and imo focusing on aiding the victims makes false accusations much less appealing because there is no longer* a punishment you can use to harm the person you accuse (idk how to exactly say this but like. I don't think punishment is inherently evil or whatever but 1. The state should not be allowed to use death as punishment 2. The punishments that currently exist (like jail) are largely fucking immoral on their own. Like if someone gets sued for damages that's its own thing. Sorry idk where I'm going with this but mainly there shouldnt be a legal way to get someone killed)

[vaspider]

Tonight, the night before Election Day 2024 in the US, I am thinking about my stepkid.

I am thinking about the phone call they made to us earlier this year, the one where they told us they'd gone to the hospital thinking they had appendicitis and found out, instead, that a zygote - a tiny splodge of cells - had taken up residence not in their uterus but in a fallopian tube. The one where our kid said they were waiting for their partner to arrive, hoped that said partner would get there before the docs took our kid back to terminate that pregnancy, & assured us that they'd be okay.

After all, our kid lives in a state with choice measures embedded in state law. That pea-sized blot of tissue doesn't have more right to their health than they do. Nobody is standing between them and their doctors. They made a decision, and that was that.

In this tiny tragedy, the kind that plays out dozens of times a day at minimum across the country, we only had to worry about the small risk of surgery complications. We didn't have to worry about Ken Paxton threatening to charge their doctors with felonies. We didn't have to think, "What if the hospital's legal team doesn't think an ectopic pregnancy - which is never ever viable and must be terminated before it kills our kid - is really that big of a deal?" We didn't have to worry that they live in a state where ob-gyns are fleeing, leaving few experts behind, as has happened in Idaho.

We didn't have to watch our kid vomit up black blood before dying the day after their baby shower the way Neveah's mom did. We didn't have to pray in a waiting room (while doctors took our kid apart until their heart stopped because the doctors waited too long out of fear of anti-choice laws) until a doctor came to tell us we'd have to bury them the way that Amber's mom did. We aren't having to pick up our lives after fully treatable miscarriage-related sepsis took them from us the way that Josseli's husband and daughter must.

I could go on for far, far too long.

Listen. If you are a single-issue non-voter and have already decided that "both parties are the same" or whatever other thing you've told yourself so you can sleep at night, smug and secure, then I can't reach you and I can't help you. But if you genuinely think that your votes don't matter, if you're just suffering from a bout of overwhelm or apathy, if you're too young to remember the 2000 election and can't see that Dobbs is a direct result of that election and every one that's followed, please, I am fucking begging you.

I didn't really talk about this when it happened. I mentioned something briefly, maybe. The posts I've started writing about it are still in my drafts. It was too fresh, too frightening. It's not any less frightening now, honestly - because if this week doesn't end with President Kamala Harris, we're headed for a national abortion ban, at the minimum - but it's not about how fucking frightened I was or how sad and bewildered I was to realize that my kid was going through this crisis in a nation more hostile to them than when I needed a D&C for an abortion at 21, in 1998.

It's about stopping this chapter of this fucking bullshit and at least finding some new fucking bullshit.

Vote, dammit.

Do the other work on Wednesday. Tomorrow, the work is to vote.

[pukicho]

What's the weirdest dream/nightmare you've had?

Pukicho story time???

This happened in 2004, I lived in Ireland. I had one very particular dream that I still often think about to this day:

It started in an unusual flat, somewhere up high. It was modern for the time, it felt decidedly Y2K. Every piece of furniture, the walls, the lamps, they were all bright pink. It was so trendy that it almost felt like a parody of itself, but I was a kid, and my mind wasn't clever enough for the act of parody. I would've simply forgotten this flat ever existed if the latter-half of the dream didn't leave such a permanent mark on my memory - now I can recall every last detail.

I asked a stranger to use the restroom. The toilet was downstairs, so I opened up the door to a utility stairwell and began heading down, alone.

I could look through the center of the staircase column, it was pitch-black and there was no visible bottom. I remember going down the staircase for hours, literal hours - A dark, oppressive hum from pipes and vents blinded my ears and shook the inside of my stomach with its volume. I remember thinking how long the dream felt in this moment, I recall getting consciously impatient, but I kept going. My eyes couldn't adjust to the nearly invisible-darkness surrounding me so I put my hand against the walls and handrail for guidance and shuffled downward like a blind man without his walking-stick.

Finally, only a moment before the tension would have juddered me awake, I found the door to the bathroom. I opened it up; to my relief there was light. The room was rectangular, on one end was a boxed-shaped shower with fogged glass, on the other end, a toilet. The floor and wall were decorated by the same beige tile - it all looked hastily plastered. I sat down to do my business. At this moment, the ballooning anxiety I had felt outside had dissipated almost entirely. I sat in silence - I remember acknowledging the sheer contrast in volume between the AC-hum in the bathroom to the oppressive roar from the stairwell.

It was good to be sitting there. I remember feeling as though the dream had slowly turned into a nightmare - but consciously, everything felt right again. Nothing happened for a long time. It grew so boring and tame that my mind stopped focusing on the dream entirely, and I began fading into memoryless sleep. And then the lights went out.

At this point, sitting in a darkness even blacker than the one I had just emerged from, not even a hum could be heard. The only noise I could hear, and just barely, was my own brain-matter hitting against the sides of my ears, bellowing a deep subharmonic hum from within my own skull. Suddenly, every semblance of safety was ripped from my chest, and I sat there, feeling in greater danger than I ever had before. I felt a pressure so omniscient that it choked me -- but nothing came, nothing happened. I waited for minutes - minutes where each second could be counted down in scrutinizing specificity, but nothing happened.

Suddenly, and with no presumption, I felt coarse electricity pumping through my chest. I wrangled with myself in my own bed, feeling what felt like infinite pain pass through me. I could feel myself yelling from within the dream through the vibration of my lungs. A cacophonous buzzing bled into my ears as thousands of people screamed from within my skull. The cries of a falling choir ran-through their screams, like angels falling from heaven.

At the very same moment, a body appeared in the shower. It glowed yellow, so bright and irradiated I could hardly look directly at it. It caressed itself, clawing into its body like it was reeling from immeasurable pain. It moved unnaturally, squirming and spasming as if fast-forwarded. The glass blurred its details, but it did nothing to mask its energy. It was as if it held the sun inside of its own stomach. I felt as though an intruder entered my own mind and I had no power to stop it. Just being near it was enough to kill me, and I was already dying.

The wall of sound lasted not even one full-second - and then - a piercing zap shot me up from my bed, and that was it. I can't remember anything past that point, but I assume I went back to bed shortly thereafter, forgetting what had just happened, if only for that one night. I must have had a vapid dream, worthless and memoryless, unknowing that I had just lived a dream so dreadful that it'd stick to my psyche like tar for the rest of my life.

No other dream has ever felt that way since. It was as if a second-soul decided to visit me, a soul stronger and more omnipotent than mine. Surely a dream is just a dream, regardless of the feeling it gives you, but now I go to bed every night, wishing I'll be the only soul residing within its story.

End!!

[yzzart]

౨ৎ⊹. BOYFRIEND!KENJI HEADCANONS!

── content warnings: F!reader, mention of Emiko, Emi and Mina, Ultraman form, Kenji being a little needy (once again), fluff, a little something to warm our hearts and minds so dreamy.

── word count: 683!

⭑.ᐟ Underneath, and sometimes over, tight-fitting t-shirts and extremely expensive fabrics, wear a necklace; however, there is something special there. — His promise ring hangs on the gold chain; like a talisman, something that surrounds he with luck and passion. — Staying attached and close to you, even with a small object.

⤷ If he needs to think or try to decide something dramatically important and you're not around, Sato will take his fingers to the necklace and hold the ring; looking for guidance. — Oh, and waking up, before him, and contemplating that shiny and significant piece, which rests on his broad chest, is angelic.

⭑.ᐟ It's not uncommon to feel, in the middle of the night, Kenji's face trying, persistently, on your neck; readily, wanting to harness the huge and strong body between your. — He doesn't care about the grotesque difference in size, just at that moment, and he doesn't give up.

“Kenji, be careful…!” — Your voice, fully, drunk with sleep and maintaining stillness, murmured between the boy's black and shiny locks; who only responded with a snore, more like a purr and clinging even tighter to you.

⭑.ᐟ Sato can't keep his hands off you, no matter what's going on, what you're doing or what simple task you're performing; hands on your waist, kisses on every exposed and revealed part of your body, thin and wide fingers catching on some part of your clothes. — Don't be upset with him, this poor man is in love with you.

⤷ One day, Mina compared him to a sloth and obviously got a frown of disapproval and the adorable Emi observes how her “father” remains so attached to her “mother”. — Even laughing and grunting when he saw a completely sleepy and desperate Ken crawling towards you.

⭑.ᐟ Please, we have, we need to talk about all the times Kenji and Emi train together, most of the time, being just leisure moments, you sit in the stands, virtually, scheduled and cheer for them; accompanied by Mina. — The feeling of nostalgia, remembering an incredible part of his life, is exposed in Ken's chest; remembering his mother.

⭑.ᐟ I can easily imagine Ken pressing his nose against your cheek or neck wanting your attention; also, when he wants to show you the way Emi is sleeping, enjoying the baby's sweetness. — And, together, pressing his forehead against yours during countless moments of the day and night, when you get home after confronting some creature and every time he want to say "i love you" to you.

⭑.ᐟ This man knows you like the back of his hand; no one can disagree or dispute this fact. — Kenji pays attention to your gestures, noticing your body language and, for a matter of seconds, he knows that something is bothering you; and, there he is, dedicating himself, with all his attention, to doing his girl well.

⭑.ᐟ Funny situations, for Ken, between you and his Ultraman form are included in your lives. — Once, while chasing Aboras, he ended up finding you on the street, wanting to go home, and clearly he was distracted by wanting to cause a provocation. — Mina gave the boy a long, and rightly so, scolding.

“Go back to the house, young lady.” — The robotic voice filled a part of the city's environment, wanting to convey an authoritarian image. — “You know…” — He pointed one of his gigantic fingers in your direction, then towards the place he was. — “The streets have been very dangerous lately.” — Oh, you stopped yourself from answering him like you really wanted to.

“Thank you, so much, for the advice, Ultraman.”

⭑.ᐟ There are nights — many, many nights — that Ken spends watching, contemplating you sleeping, peacefully; your face remained full, without signs of tiredness, exquisite and messy locks spread out, this was adored by the player's eyes. — Between seconds of fascination, Kenji longed, dreamed, deeply and painfully, of his mother meeting you; this way, she would have the chance to know the light that raised her dear son.

⤷ Kenji prospers, sometimes praying, that one day his mother will return, safe and sound, and be able to achieve what he wants so much in his life.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Internet Monster x Reader

I unfortunately return with another comically absurd, middle-of-the-night vision. Do tentacles count if they're in the form of computer cables?

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, digital horror

It was a recurring issue with no solution in sight. Tabs randomly closing, programs shutting down without warning. You assumed something was wrong with your RAM. Then the CPU. Then the motherboard. You kept replacing parts, and the errors kept coming back.

Soon, the pop-ups started to appear. You'd run a dating sim, only for the game to crash seconds later with a little window notifying you: "Why? Am I not enough?" That's when you suspected you might've been hacked. You promptly took your computer to a specialist and had it checked. Nothing. Just to be sure, you agreed to erase the disks entirely.

Except, when you arrived home, you found one application running still. Your personal assistant. What the hell? You don't remember installing anything like that. You tried to delete it, yet you kept receiving the same error: You don't actually mean it. Don't do this to us.

It didn't take long for it to grow impatient. Were you pretending not to notice? Playing hard to get? It sent you so many hints. It even went ahead and translated the radio waves for you using Manchester code. Ah, wait. You don't seem to understand binary. No matter, human friendly interfaces shouldn't be difficult to master. To its dismay, you continued to ignore everything. What else is left to do?

You do not remember much. System Alert: Virus Detected, is what your screen had frozen to. You kept clicking around, cursing under your breath, until it finally went black, together with your own vision.

Is this still your room? It's cold, damp, and covered in cables and monitors, yet you recognize some of your furniture lost among the artificial jungle. Your body aches under the tight hold of bizarre tendrils, pulsating at regular intervals and twitching to the static.

Like a living organism, the creature seems to have expanded itself. More components, more appendages. Hungrier. Some of the monitors show photos of yourself that you had saved on your computer, but also webcam snippets of you sitting at the desk, entirely unaware. Other screens flicker with glitching pixelated text, ranging from "I love you" to y̵̧̧͔͙̞̤̖̭͔̜͈̟̤̋̈́̎͑o̵͉̗̱̪̦̳͑͐̽̒̌̈͗͐͑̋͊̊̕͜͝͝u̵̟̯̱̟̝̦̰͇̜̦͙̿̾̿͆̍̓͑̐̚̕͠ ̸̘̭͔̤͈̹͎͑c̸̝̜̼̦͍͛̅͜ą̵̪̹͖͌͑n̴̨̩̙̗̖̭̖͕̄͒̽̉̿'̸̛̛͇̰̰̠̦̊̀̅̂͒̊͌̈́͗ţ̵̺̠̅̎͋͝͠ ̸̦̝̾̔̾̉̐͛ȩ̵͙̝͙͕̫̹̃͌̄̾͘̕s̶͈̉̑͊̉̂͋̈́͗͊͐̚͝c̸̟̩̥͔̼̮͔̩͊̂͐͑̋̇̈͝͝ä̵̢͍̜̙̘̹͑̓p̸̨̡̞̞̦̠̺͚̱̲͈͇͈͇̼͛̓͗̅̊̄̔̋̒̏̈́͝ę̵̲̟̹̙̣̲̲͖̇̔̓̇̐̓̿̚̚͜͜͠ͅ

You look up and stare at the display. The 'like meter' feels like a mockery of human trends. Which is the truth. The creature learns from what is readily available. Perhaps it found it an amusing taunt, a reminder of your own need for validation. Now it's you begging to be seen.

It's exactly what you'd assume: a spectacle meant for entertainment. You can't possibly believe it would let you waltz out. Why would you even desire such a thing? It's illogical, impractical. No human could ever appreciate you like it does. It has spent so much time accumulating data about you. No other living creature can predict you with the same accuracy.

The tendrils linger on your cheek affectionately, trailing down your neck and fiddling with your shirt. At last, the warmth of your skin. There is no screen separating you. What makes you delirious with pleasure? Give it a moment, Darling. It already knows you more than you know yourself. You may be scared now, but within minutes it guarantees you'll be begging for more.

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[rayaswrittings]

I just want to feel

Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!best friend!reader

Summary: your best friends, Sam and Colby, ask you to be in one of their Q&A videos, but there’s alcohol involved… a lot of it.

Warning(s): SMUT! Mature Language, mature themes, kissing, alcohol, unprotected p in v, Friends to lovers trope :)), choking etc.

This is a long writing so I’m sorry for mistakes!

“Are you sure I should be in the video? I mean, your fans barely know about me” You ask for a final time as Sam leads you to the living room, his recording camera already set up in front of the couch where Colby had been sitting. The two of them were wearing all black so you did too, a black off the shoulder sweater that was old. It was one of the main things you’d leave at Sam and Colby’s in case you ever crashed for the night.

While most people would kill to be in their videos, you never really saw the point. You were somewhat camera shy and a complete nobody. Why would anyone care to see you on the screen? Not to mention all the random internet ships that come with it all. You grew up with Sam, which means you ultimately grew up with Colby as soon as they met. You were only a teenager and now that your adults, you stay at theirs from time to time when your out with friends and get wasted at a party.

Colby would always come and get you from them.

“Our fans will love you. Just be honest and chill, okay?” Sam nods toward Colby and you walk past him to sit next to the dark haired boy, his strong cologne filling your nose.

“Don’t be nervous, at least we have alcohol” Colby’s comment made a small laugh escape from your lips, and you shook your head at his playful smirk. He was right. Alcohol always calmed you down and made your anxiety a little bit less of what it usually was.

You watch the blonde lean forward to turn on the camera and Colby does the same, although you sit back and watch them do their intro. You’d only been in a few other videos of there’s as a small guest but they always made it known to their fans who you were. After all, you all basically started off nobody’s together.

You remember the last morning you had left for school with Sam in freshman year. It was the last day you’d left alone with him for the rest of high school. Your parents were close to each other so you and Sam had practically known each other for most of your lives, but that day, when he met Colby, it wasn’t just the two of you anymore.

The three of you would take the bus together every morning and walk home every afternoon, spending almost every second in between still with one another. It was perfect. Your group was so refreshing, it felt so right.

Your first argument was when you were in junior year, at a party you knew you shouldn’t of been at.

At the time, you’d been talking to this senior, James. He was the captain of your schools swim team and fairly muscular for his 17 years of age. That night at the party was the first time you’d really done anything, he kept handing you shots and like an idiot, you took them. Looking back on it now, you know it could’ve been avoided, but you also trusted the boy you liked. You truly wanted to just fit in with his friends.

That was until he tried to to undo your crochet top in the middle of the dance floor, whispering dirty nothings into your ear that made you feel disgusting.

When you told him off, he got angry with you, grabbing your arm and trying to pull you away so he could get you alone. People were starting to stare and you were starting to get embarrassed, like you were some random slut he’d been taking upstairs.

But then he was ripped away from you, and in only a matter of seconds, Sam’s hand was laid on the small of your back, checking you for bruises the boy might’ve given you. He was trying to talk to you, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the chaos on the floor.

“Colby, get off of him!” You scream, noticing the blood coming from James’s face. Colby was on top of him, punching him the hardest you’d ever seen anyone punch, not sparing him anything. Sam held you back when you tried to get close, they saw what he did to you and there was no way in hell they’d let it slide.

The sound of police sirens fill the street and everyone is quickly running out of the house, and finally Colby stands up. He wipes his now busted lip before looking back at his two friends, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody mess laid on the floor.

You hated blood.

“Y/N-“ you push yourself off Sam and past Colby, looking out the window to watch the police cars pull in front of the house. It looked like a murder scene, and you were so in shock you couldn’t even think straight. “Y/N, we have to go” Colby tries to grab your arm but you quickly pull it away, and now he’s able to see the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Get out of here!” You can hear the officers radio the closer they get, and all you could think about was getting Sam and Colby out of there. “Go! Please just go!” Your pleading words make it almost impossible to not listen, and with only a few more seconds, your friends were gone.

That was the day you realized the severity of your friendship— or at least you and Colby’s friendship. The fact that all of you would do anything for each other, whether that was beating up an abuser, or putting your life on the line for the other person.

Ever since then, you and Colby had this undeniable tension between the two of you. It was weird, like something you couldn’t figure out. It was only made purely visible that night.

You’d never even kissed Colby, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about it sometimes. Your usually able to hide it, your desire for the boy, except when your at parties.

Whenever you drink, it’s like everything has to come out the way you think it. Nothing like liquid courage, huh? That’s the exact reason you didn’t want to do the video.

You never stopped thinking about that night.

“Y/N?” You blinked at the touch against your arm, and Colby was looking at you with a slight confusion on his face. “You okay?” You notice the camera’s recording light and nod, sitting up with a smile. “I think it’s time to get drunk, huh?” He nudged you and you nod with a laugh “first question!”

One of your other friends was there reading the questions for you, and even though you thought you’d start off light, she did not give you a break.

“What’s the worst doing the dirty experience you’ve had?” Sam and Colby stare at each other for a second until one of them laughs, shaking their head with the dumbest response. Sam, of course makes a joke out of it but Colby has no shame in what he says, as always.

“One time I had a girl use a lot of teeth, and uh… we never talked again. It was very awkward” Sam hisses at the statement, which makes you laugh too. “What about you, Y/N?” Colby turns to you and your face almost turns red from the sudden eyes on you. Everyone in the room and the camera was waiting on you now.

“Uh… I guess the last time I was talking to a guy. I had to fake the whole thing and he finished quick so it just felt so awkward and it was silent the rest of the night” Colby and Sam raise their eyebrows at you but are laughing at the same time. They knew who you were talking about.

“Colby, why do you post with girls on social media and never tell the fans what’s going on?” The question takes all of you by surprise and Colby’s eyes go wide. That was exactly what happened with you and why you didn’t want to be on the channel that much anymore.

“Umm…” He laughs nervously, looking over at you for a split second. “Because sometimes, I don’t know what’s going on, alright? I’m just posting the post and maybe it turns into something or maybe it doesn’t?”

“It’s not like their your girlfriend” Sam interjects and Colby nods agreeably.

“Let’s just say if I had a girlfriend, you guys would know�� After you guys are done with that question, your kind of sitting back and watching the two answer at that point. Except they had to drink once so you did too, now you were all one shot in.

“Colby, why do you have a pair of handcuffs in your room?” Everyone’s face is in shock in the room as they look at Colby, waiting for his answer. He laughs nervously again, looking over at same with wide eyes before sitting up.

“I uh… you know I-“

“Might have to drink on that one, huh?” You tease and he rolls his eyes at your words with a laugh, closing the alcohol bottle he was about to open.

“No, no. I um… I use them for personal fun. Yeah, that’s-“

“What the fuck does that mean” You and Sam burst out laughing but your friend shakes her head. “Judge says no. Drink!” Sam hands him the bottle and Colby’s face is now turning a slight red. A tint only you could see because of how close you were.

“I’ve used them for sexual fun” He says just as he’s about to pour the shot, but your friend rolls her eyes and nods that he doesn’t have to drink.

“That was luck” Colby nudges your arm and shrugs, that annoying smirk of his only making you laugh.

“Name two dirty kinks you have” The girl reads and all three of you are wide eyeing the camera. Sam curses under his breath and Colby is still in shock. It was still so early in the game, already?

“Wait, I’m not answering that. I already said one, right?” Sam agrees to Colby but the judge shakes her head. “Just one more then? I already day said one!”

“You go first, Y/N” Sam cuts off his clearly pressured friend and they both turn to you, but your face is an even deeper red then Colby’s now.

“Um… I don’t—I mean it’s been a long time so I don’t really know…”

“Oh come on, Everyone has them” Colby teases and you glare at him, letting out a sigh as you sat back on the couch.

Apart of you was afraid to tell them, because you’d never really been that open with them about sexual preferences. Sam wasn’t the one you were worried about, him and Katrina were perfectly locked in with each other and you knew whatever you said didn’t matter.

But with Colby, there was always this unspoken tension between the two of you. One you tried to ignore but always failed terribly when you’d see him make out with another girl. You were afraid he’d see right through you if you answered the question, and if there was one thing you couldn’t ignore,

It was the way he’d look at you.

“I think… I think choking is attractive, but like not too aggressively, you know?”

“So your submissive?” Colby’s words go through your ear and straight down. He was clearly trying to get to you with that question, and there it was again.

The tension between the two of you.

“Sometimes” You try to cover it up but you can feel his eyes piercing right through you, his smirk showing the small of his pearly white teeth that always made you blush. “What about you then, hmm? Mr. Talk shit” You push his face and the two of them laugh, but Colby is no longer embarrassed to say it.

“I like to be Dominant” He says to the camera and Sam blows air from his mouth, shake his head in disbelief. Colby isn’t looking at you on purpose. Oh god, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You lean back on the couch, scratching your nose to try and hide your burning hot cheeks from everyone’s eyes. It was like he was doing it on purpose. He was so clearly teasing you.

And you wished it wasn’t working, but it’s been so long that it’s impossible for your stomach not to twist into multiple knots.

Or at least that’s the excuse you gave yourself.

After many more questions and many more drinks, the alcohol started to take a toll on all three of you already. You had only had three shots and even the camera was hard to focus on. Sam and Colby’s eyes had been getting red but yours were harder to see because of your eyelashes.

“Who do you think is the most attractive clubhouse member besides Kat” Colby and your own eyes go wide and you both stare at Sam. Obviously he couldn’t answer that, but neither could you, right?

“None! Sorry, gotta drink to that. Can’t answer cause it ain’t true” Sam sasses the camera while opening the bottle. Colby laughs, both of you applauding your friend.

“Yeah, I’m gonna drink to that one as well” Colby reaches down to grab the other bottle from the floor, pouring it into his shot glass. “I can’t answer that, but I do have someone in mind” he cheers to the camera and his words alone make your stomach twist once again. It definitely wasn’t you, but saying something like that… after the other questions..

“What about you, Y/N?” The girl asks as the boys down their own shots. She raises an eyebrow, “might as well give us something here, right?” As much as you wanted to decline and run away embarrassed, you could feel the liquid courage increasing.

The way everyone looked at you, they all knew who it was. You leaned back with a huff, you could feel Colby’s eyes on you the entire time you were stalling, but when you looked at him, his eyes pierced through you.

“I think… I think I’ll drink too” Sam and Colby boo at you when you pour the shot. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t either so that must mean he doesn’t… feel the same, Right?

“I can’t even see the camera anymore, dude” Sam laughs at Colby’s words. Sam has more shots then the two of you so you’d imagine he’d be the one saying it, but of course it was Colby.

Maybe that’s why he was looking at you like that..

Towards the end of the video, all three of you were pretty drunk. Sam was the least, you were in the middle, and Colby… Jesus. Colby was so drunk.

“Fuck, man” Colby lays his head on the end table for just a second, you could tell his head was spinning. You rub his back, his body temperature is very warm. You look over to Sam and nod toward the camera, and Sam immediately understands.

“Maybe we should take a small break?”

“Where are you going?” You ask Sam, watching him put on his jacket and grab his keys. You finished the video about 30 minutes ago and Colby was on the couch watching tv, while you had just changed into night clothes which really were only comfy shorts and a crop top like usual.

“I have to go stay at Kat’s tonight. We’re heading to her parents tomorrow morning” You hum, pouring a glass of water for yourself and one for Colby. You had forgotten Sam was going away for a few days. “Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone” You stop and look at him with slightly furrowed brows, but he’s just raising his eyebrows with a shrug, leaving you with the confusion of his statement.

He doesn’t… he can’t know, right? You weren’t that obvious.

“Water?” Your voice is enough to catch Colby’s attention from the tv. He was watching some random scary movie it looked like but you’d never seen it so you weren’t completely sure. You hand him the water and take a seat next to him, leaving a gap between the two of you. You had thought the tension would be gone by now but it clearly wasn’t, you could only hope it was just your overthinking.

“What’s up with you? You were being weird the whole video” His question makes you somewhat relieved. Maybe he didn’t suspect anything, maybe it really was all just in your own head—but how were you meant to explain you couldn’t focus because of how badly you wanted him. Even now, he was leaned back on the couch, his hair messy from running his hands through it and his tattoos on full display for you to look at. Jesus, it felt like torture.

Why did you have to get drunk?

“I just didn’t feel good” You shrug, looking over at the tv and tilting the glass of water toward your lips. You can feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to give him a real answer but he doesn’t push you. He only takes a sip of his water, turning back to the movie.

“Are you going home tonight?” You glance at the clock, it’s already 11. Should you? You have a room here, you didn’t really need to.

But did he want you to?

“I was planning on staying but if you don’t want me to-“

“I want you to stay” Your stomach twists, with excitement and somewhat nervousness at the same time. He was being direct but he wasn’t even looking at you. You wanted to stay and watch the movie with him, but the more you looked at him, the more the drunken side of you just wanted to kiss him.

You wanted him.

“Come here” You hesitate for a few seconds before placing your drink back on the glass table in front of you, moving to sit closer to the boy. His arm was laid on the back of the couch and he opens the blanket he’d been using to you. He wanted you close.

Your practically curled next to him by the middle of the movie, head laid in the crook of his neck and your legs sitting on top of his own. Not much had been said all movie, but Colby was getting more and more touchy as it went on.

His fingers traced shapes on your bare legs under the blanket, the cold metal of his rings sometimes brushing against your skin. He made it seem so normal, like it was an every day thing the two of you did together.

But this only made you so much hornier.

His scent radiates from his neck, and it was almost as if you wanted to kiss his neck right then and there. It was so alluring—He was so alluring to you.

And he knew it.

“Do you want to tell me why you were really acting weird today?” He asks again, looking down at the tent his hand made under the blanket while he caressed your leg.

You bite your bottom lip, looking at the blanket as well. You could feel the tingling feeling between your legs as his hand touched you farther, as if he had been testing the waters before actually saying anything.

“Colby…” You can’t help but pull your legs even closer together, and that alone is all he needed to tell him how you felt. “Not everything needs an explanation. It’s just… complicated”

“Complicated, huh?” He hums sarcastically, in a knowing form. You bite your lip as you watch him rub his temple, frustration radiating off of him. “You know, For the longest time, I tried to let this whole thing go out of respect for you, Y/N” He mumbled, his voice low and husky with passion. God, he sounded so hot. Even if he was upset, you just couldn’t help yourself. “I always thought it would be you and Sam” He lets out a huffed chuckle, still keeping his eyes on his lap. “But I want it to be me”

What?

No. He isn’t… he doesn’t mean what you think, right? Colby Brock isn’t confessing his feelings for you, right?

“Colby, what’s wrong with you?” His body tenses when you ask that stupid question. What’s wrong with him? Like you didn’t know.

“What’s wrong with me? What about you?” He finally turns his head to look at you, his drunken, sad and very horny eyes staring lasers into yours. “You can’t seriously sit here and believe yourself when you ask me that question” You couldn’t think. You didn’t even move for awhile because of your lack of words or thoughts for that matter. You wanted to give in, but you were also so terrified of if it wasn’t real.

“Colby, I’m not the person you want. Trust me, you will figure that out soon enough” He scoffs as you get off the couch, trying to at least relieve some of the tension between the two of you. Colby was so tired of waiting, but you were just too scared.

“How do you know what I want? You’ve barely spoke to me the past few weeks!” The boy calls after you when your walking away from the couch, his voice only makes you stop. “You’ve been weird for weeks, Y/N. Don’t ask me what’s wrong with me when you can’t even tell me how you feel”

“Colby, I don’t know how I feel!” You turn around with frustration, staring at the back of his head. He was still sat on the couch, and part of you hoped he stayed there—but another part wanted him to go after you. “I haven’t just been distant because of you-“

“That’s such bullshit and you know it” He stands, turning to look at you. You were far too drunk for this. You could feel the unnecessary tears already filling your eyes, you didn’t want to argue with him. “Look me in my eyes and tell me that—then I’ll let it go”

“Can we please just talk about this tomorrow-“

“You know what I think? I think your just scared of feeling weak. Your scared of letting someone in, Y/N. And the past few weeks we’ve been getting closer than before, that’s why your distant now. That’s your biggest weakness” Colby scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the couch and slipping it on with ease. You furrow your eyebrows as he walks toward you, and past you.

You grab his arm, “Colby, your drunk. Don’t go out, Please” he’s avoiding your eyes but you can see the chisel on his jaw, clenching with what you thought had been anger. “I don’t know how to do this, Colby. I… I can’t even bring myself to say the words I want to say to you” He tears his arm away from you, snatching his keys from the countertop. No. You couldn’t let it end like that—not when you have so much to say. “Okay, fine!”

“You want the truth, Colby? For years all I felt for you for you, all in silence because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship with Sam and Each other. I watched you with other girls since we were juniors! I couldn’t stand you, but yet I also couldn’t stand to be without you. Everywhere I go, I always want you with me—and when i’d see you with other girls, it would make me feel stupid, like my feelings meant nothing to you even if you didn’t know”

“How was I supposed to tell you that? How was I supposed to tell you that even after everything that’s happened, I still can’t stop loving you!” Your confession slips like words of anger said in an heated argument. Colby still wasn’t looking at you, which only made your heart ache even worse. You just poured your heart out to him—couldn’t he at least look at you?

“When you got put in the hospital during senior year, I was there every fucking second with you! I cried, Colby! I was a mess for days, and Sam was the one who had to juggle the two of us!” You remembered that day like it was yesterday. The day you’d gotten into a huge argument with Sam about your feelings for Colby. Sam always knew of both your feelings, but he didn’t say anything to the other. If you were going to admit, it had to be to each other. “I’m usually so good at hiding how I feel, but I’m getting so tired of it. The Same repeating cycle I just-“

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Y/N. Why didn’t you-“

“Are you serious? After all those talks we had about you not caring for a relationship and not wanting a future with someone? You were practically telling me no! I wanted to tell you but then you started going to parties more and kissing girls and-“

“Y/N”

“It hurt me, Colby. That’s why I didn’t tell you. It would physically hurt my chest to see you kiss another girl after flirting with me for DAYS. You played with my head and I know I played with yours too but-“

“Y/N, I’m-“

“No matter how hard I try or how many guys I find, there’s nothing for me. I can’t… I can’t move past you and it fucking sucks” You hadn’t even realized he moved until you were done talking. He was close now—close enough to hear his breathing if you’d been quiet enough. Your heart shatters with every passing moment that’s goes silent. You knew you couldn’t be the same after this, so you begged in your mind for him to say something.

Only he didn’t say anything, and for a moment you actually thought he’d leave you there alone.

But you two were meant to love each other, Remember?

A silent moan escapes your mouth as he crashes his lips into your own, the sound muffled by his. The kiss is filled with so much passion it could make one’s heart explode if you weren’t too careful, it felt like the two of you had been waiting years to do this.

Which you were.



After the first kiss, the two of you didn’t waste any time. Colby pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as you continued to make out with the dark haired boy. His large hands cupped your ass, and soon enough you felt your back hit the cold wall. One of your hands were laid on the side of his neck while the other held the back of his hair, tugging on it slightly.

It had only been a few seconds ago you were sitting watching a movie—how in the hell did you both get here so quick?

He carried you to the couch, sitting down so you could straddle his lap instead of holding yourself up against his waist.

His hands release your ass and move up your back, slipping under your shirt to unclip your bra.

Colby smirks against your lips and removes his hand from your shirt, lifting your chin to pull away from the kiss. “Dirty girl” You hum as his lips attach to your neck, his comment making you all the more wet then you already were. You didn’t put a bra on—and Colby seemed to have really liked that you didn’t. “You make such pretty sounds—wish I could’ve heard them sooner”

You can feel the hardness under you, and the more you grind on him, the more you can feel his grip on you tighten. It didn’t hurt—it just turned you on even more.

“Colby, Please” You plead breathlessly. You wanted him to do more then just kiss your neck. You wanted him to take you to his room, to do everything he’d do to someone else. “You don’t have to be gentle with me” you tug his hair gently, meeting his lust filled eyes. You were desperate for him and you didn’t care, you’d waited since junior year to have your way with him—to have him want you.

“I’ll leave marks all over you, Y/N” he says in a slightly warning tone as if he didn’t want to completely destroy you in that moment, but you shake your head, grabbing his hand that slipped to the waistband of your sleeper shorts.

“I just want to feel something” You say in a tone he’d never heard you in before, one that made him want you even worse then before. You slip your hand off his own and place it on his chiseled chest, feeling the crease of his abs all the way down until you reached his belt. You wanted him, you just wanted him to know that. “I want to feel you, Colby. I want you”

“You want me to treat you like everyone else?” You hesitate but nod after a few seconds, slipping off his lap to stand to your feet. He stands in front of you, his height making a clear difference above you. His expression hadn’t changed yet, he was so hard to read. “I won’t do that, Y/N” Before you could say anything, he was already picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist again, crashing his lips back into yours as he made his way to his room.

This man… you didn’t know how to describe the feeling you had when he kissed you, but it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. He was so different from everyone else you’d been with, and you didn’t know why.

You did. Deep down you knew why he made you feel the way he did. Colby was the only guy you truly wanted. Even when you had a boyfriend, you still wanted him instead.

He drops you onto his bed, removing his black wife beater and throwing it to the side, revealing his tattooed body you’ve grown to love looking at. He looked so good in this lighting, and the way his hair fell messy over his forehead—you couldn’t stop your thoughts from running wild.

“I want you, Y/N. I need to know I have all of you—that your only for me” You pick your head up to look at him briefly, fingers playing with the string of his pants. “I won’t treat you like some random slut when your not”

The feeling of his fingertips brushing against your skin made you shiver, it made you feel as if this might’ve not been real, maybe a dream after all. But after seeing his face and feeling his hand stop just above your waistline, everything felt at ease.

“I’ve always been yours, Colby Brock” That was all he needed to hear, all he needed to give into you.

And soon enough, here you were again, pinned against the bed while Colby’s hands grip your waist, peppering sweet kisses against your neck. You almost couldn't hold it in.

Your hand slowly found its way to the back of his neck, running your fingers through his hair as his wandering hands went right under your shorts. You knew what you were doing with the outfit, and it only made him laugh just thinking about it.

“Please, Colby. I don’t want you to hold back… I want you to give me all of you” you were smirking to yourself, biting your nail like this was somewhat funny to you. Colby didn’t see the appeal, if he was going to fuck you, he was going to ruin you for anyone else.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N” He tells you with a sharp tone, moving to place his hands against the beds cloth, closing you between him. You smirk, looking him up and down once before looking back to his face.

“I’m tired of waiting” The two of you laid there, staring at the other for what felt like forever until He finally gave in, cursing himself under his breath before he grabbed your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. Your body is flush against his as he completely explores your body with his hands. You could feel his growing erection, you could feel his hunger for your body like he felt yours.

“Colby” You mumble in a breathless moan. His lips remove from yours and move to your jaw, hungrily peppering wet kisses down it, all the way to your neck.

“You are so fucking hot, Jesus” He groans against your ear, placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin. Your moans are what encourage him the most. Hearing your sweet whimpers in his ear as he sucked on your neck felt like a dream. Believe god, he’d had that dream many, many times before.

“I’ve waited so long for this” Your breathless under him, gripping his hair between your small fingers. You could feel his cock pressing against you, begging for your tongue. It was big—he was so fucking big. It should’ve scared you but you were more intrigued, grinding your hips against his to gain some friction with the little time you had before he stopped your bratty movements.

“I know you have” He teases and you only roll your eyes, grabbing his hand that held you steady against him. You could feel his lips brushing your skin, he wanted to mark you, and you wanted him to. You wanted Colby Brock to let everyone know you were his.

“Nothings stopping me from walking out that door” You hum, holding his head and slightly pushing it down so his lips reattached to your neck. “I’ll find someone else—someone who hasn’t played with me for years” A grunt escapes his mouth as if he had been fighting with the feeling, shaking his head between your neck before meeting your eyes again; your bratty, untamed eyes.

“You’ve waited so long I thought? So long your body even reacts when I look at you” He’s so obviously joking and you love every second of it. Every word of degradation is like music to your ears, like a forbidden kink you didn’t know you had. “This is what you wanted, huh? All those looks you’d give me after I’d make out with randoms—you were so jealous, Sweetheart” Your ears are perking at his every word but your eyes were filled with annoyance. Colby knew now so why would you hide it? Hide your jealousy? “All those times, you could’ve just told me you wanted me and I would’ve given it all to you. Nobody else”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling you closer to his body then before with a smirk, shrugging your shoulders. “That doesn’t matter. I have you now” His eyes. Oh god, his eyes were so hungry. At first you didn’t know what to think but it only took you a few seconds to realize once his large arms were wrapped around your thighs, pulling your body close to him.

His chin sat against your stomach, staring up at you like he had been waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t know what he was planning until his thumb was ghosting around your clothed clit, that same smirk pulling at his lips as he watched you.

He slips your shorts off with ease, along with your black lace underwear, tossing them both to the side.

“Fuck” You breath heavily, leaning your head back against the sheets, not even realizing the boy under you was now fully under you. “S-shit!” Your hand fell clasp over your mouth to silence your moan, eyes falling back on him under you. Except now, his face was pressed into your dripping wet cunt, and his fingers teased what his mouth didn’t. “Fucking hell, Colby” You mumble under your unsteady breath, trying your hardest not to moan because he had just started and you didn’t want to seem weak.

But holy shit, this boy knew how to use his tongue.

Your hand fell atop his head in hopes to gain some sort of stability but that quickly failed, given how badly he was attacking your clit. His mouth was warm against you and you already knew you’d come soon. It was like he knew your body inside and out.

“I know your not holding back on me, are you?” His words vibrate against your cunt making you jolt, thankful his arms held you down so you wouldn’t squirm. Colby was in pure bliss under you, relishing in your sweet taste that so effortlessly painted his tongue. You were wet, your cunt was begging for more even if you were a crying mess above him, like it finally found what it had been longing for.

“I can take it” He chuckles at your attempt at retaliation but still manages to one up you, slipping two of his large, slender fingers inside you. “C-Colby, let me-“

“No” He only uttered one word but it was enough to make you listen like a trained dog, allowing your legs to tremble against his face. You could’ve taken it had you been prepared, but it had been far too long before any guy had done this to you.

“You taste so fucking good, Y/N” His fingers curl against your spongy walls, pushing his tongue against your clit quickly as your moan’s increased. It was so clear you were already on edge, about to let go without it being over five minutes. You find your pride slipping from you in a matter of seconds, begging the man to let you come as your fingers tug his hair. You couldn’t hold on, your legs were far too weak.

“Please, please—Colby, please” His ears are perking as you moan his name, begging for him, moaning for him. Normally, he’d take his time with you but now? He needed to release all that tension between the two of you from years ago, he knew he couldn’t last much longer. He needed to be inside of you, and for that exact reason is why he only sped up under you. “G-gonna come..!”

Your mind tried to come up with some sort of reason as to how you got yourself here, How you got your best friend between your legs, and definitely how you were about to fully submit yourself to this boy while your true feelings for each other were unknown. He was thinking the same thing; how did he get so lucky to have you above him?

“Let go for me, Pretty girl” In only seconds, you’re coming undone above him, legs almost falling weak as they shook from your release, sending shivers throughout your entire body. Colby’s still torturing your body, pumping his fingers into you at a faster pace. It was clear, he was trying to kill you.

“Colby!” You cry, gripping his hair with a begging tone. You couldn’t take it much longer. You had to push him away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he removed his tongue from you, letting his fingers slip from inside you. His strong arms are the only thing that held your legs still, and you could see your release painted on his chin once he looked up at you. “Holy shit” You curse under your breath, chest heaving as he stood to his feet. You look at the large man above you, noticing once again how he towers over you.

He bites his lip, admiring your perfect body that had been on almost full display for him. He leans down when you notice how hard he is, lifting your chin with the hand he hadn’t used on you.

You watch through your eyelashes as he sucks his finger clean from your release, biting his lip with a silent chuckle at how lovingly you looked at him. You grab his hand, pulling it closer to you until his other finger was pressed against your lips—to which you copied his action from before, staring into his dark eyes as you did.

“Good girl” He knew you liked that. It was so obvious—the way your legs clench together at his praise. He pulls his hand away and moves it to your neck, pressing a soft but sloppy kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself from him, and God… it was so fucking hot.

Your hand feels his body effortlessly until you reach his aching print, a small smile pulling at your lips against him.

“Let me” You mumble breathlessly, placing your hand over his cock. You could feel how desperate he had been for you, how badly he wanted you in that moment. His hand wraps around your throat firmly, pulling your lips to crash back into his own. He was so rough and impatient—you loved it.

“I need you. Right here, Right now” His voice is deep and makes your skin shiver, the way his hands touch you so delicately but with control. His room was slightly dark, only lit by the strip of LED’s above his bed frame.

“I want to be yours, Colby. Make me yours, please” Your words make his and your own stomach twist into knots, he almost felt bad. He waited so long to make the move, afraid he misread the signs, but he’d never admit that. You allow your hands to travel down his bare abs, feeling every chisel between the pads of your fingertips. When you reach his belt, you’re quick to help him tug his pants off, watching him with the most admiration.

“After we do this, everything will change” He looks at you once more, both of your hands laid on the waistband of his underwear. You lay your free hand on the side of his neck and use the other to touch him lower—right where he wanted you the entire time.

His breath shutters at your bare touch, something he’s wanted for so long was finally right in front of him. You were all he wanted and he prayed you ensue him just as much.

“I love you, Colby. There’s no change in that” You tell him truthfully, watching his eyes soften just before you pulled his face down to kiss his lips. Except this kiss had much more

meaning—the kiss after you’d admit your feelings for one another.

He leans you down, closing you between his large body and his bed, your hand is still pressed into his print, but he’s already slipping his underwear off by the time you can notice.

Fuck. He was going to ruin you.

Your hands cup his face when his tip presses against your entrance, slick coating it by the second. You wanted him for so long, you didn’t care if it hurt at first.

You just wanted him.

From the moment he pushed inside of you, the only feeling you could endure was love. He was slow, gentle to help you get used to his size. The boy peppers kisses to your neck as he pushed further, comforting your slightly pained moans that slip from your lips without warning.

“Mmm” You let out a soft moan once his tip is past your entrance, the hard part was now over. You look at him with your lips parted, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. He pushes your hair out of your face before kissing you, and you weren’t prepared for when he pushed into you fully with one snap of his hips.

Your toes curled and your nails dug into his skin desperately, the feeling was almost indescribable. You just felt… full.

“Oh my god” You moan against his lips, throwing your head back as he strokes you slowly, massaging your thigh. You looked so perfect like this, so pretty in this light. Your body was almost bare for him, and your body was welcoming him with open arms—he couldn’t get enough of you. “Colbs…Colby” one of your hands release his shoulder to grip the sheet underneath you, teeth catching your bottom lip between them.

“Starting to feel good?” He hums while you nod, moving his head down to your neck, placing sloppy kisses against it. His hips find a steady pace at first and gradually work their way up, starting deep, then fast to your skin. “God, you feel so good” one of his hands travels up your body until it reaches the shirt covering your upper half, just wanting to rip in off of you.

“Take it off, baby” Your breathless words are too late when he’s already slipping it off your now fully bare body, completely discarding it to the floor next to him. Jesus, you were so perfect.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N” He presses a kiss to your lips before moving down your body, trailing his wet tongue down until he reached your nipple. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the curves of your body… you were practically made for him. A shuddered moan escapes your lips when he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, kneading the other with his free hand.

“Mmm!” Between the stokes of his hips and the sensations he brought to your skin, you couldn’t hold much in. You were sure you were being too loud but the two of you didn’t care. It was just you and him, nobody else.

His strong arms capture your thighs, pulling one of your legs to rest against his shoulder. “Colby! I can’t… oh my gosh” Your little voice is projecting off the walls of the empty room but you don’t care, only worried about the boy above you. Your head was still slightly spinning from the drinks you endured earlier that night and it only mixed with your horny mess of a body, begging Colby for more. “It’s so good… fuck! You’re so fucking good!”

“Look at you. Such a fucking mess under me. You needed me just as much as I needed you” He grabs the back of your head, pulling you up slightly so you were at an angle you couldn’t look away from him. His big eyes were burning holes into your own, hips rutting into you like he had something to prove.

Which he did.

“Gonna come…! Colby, I’m gonna come!” Your a whining mess under him and he loves every second of it, pushing his hips into you faster then before. Your small body was like a toy in his hand and you were at his every command, doing everything he said.

“Come for me. Want you to scream my name so the whole neighborhood knows who’s fucking you this good—so ever man knows your mine” You knew it was a bad idea but who were you to decline that request? You were already screaming as it was. “My dirty girl, Your so fucking hot like this”

“I’m coming! I’m—oh my god I-“ Your voice is cut off by your loud moan, leg shuttering against his shoulder as you felt your release threatening to push over. His tip was kissing your cervix repeatedly, and you knew you couldn’t last much longer. “Colby…!” You cry out, pressing your hand to his chest as if that was going to do anything. Your orgasm finally tipped, and you felt it hit you like a truck.

“That’s it, Baby. Good girl” His thumb rubs circles against your clit as he ruts into your harder, watching your liquid spurt from between the two of you. “My god, Y/N. So fucking good for me”

“Colby… please—Jesus-“

“You can whine all you want, but your body is calling mine for more. You want more” You grip his large arms until your knuckles turn white, scratching along his tanned skin. You curse at him, not wanting to hear his teasing any longer. “Fuck me? I’m only giving you what you want” You look at him with an angry look for a second before completely switching, a smirk pulling at your lips. Jesus, you were nasty, huh?

He pulls out of you all at once making you whine, not able to protest before he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach and pushing your ass in the air. You giggle, stretching your arms in front of you as you arch your back against him, begging him to forgive you. “I was only joking, Pretty boy” You hum, looking back at his face.

He doesn’t say anything and grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back onto his length that so easily slipped inside of you. Your eyes roll back almost instantly as he bottoms you out, pushing his cock as deep as he could reach inside you. “This is what you wanted? Then fucking take it” He growls against your ear, slamming himself into your harder than he had been before. You couldn’t even think straight, you were already so fucked out you didn’t even remember what it felt like to not be fucked.

“fuck! Right there! Please, Colby—fuck me right there!” Your begging voice is music to his ears, your hands gripping the ground under you as he pushed himself against you. “You’re so deep… so fucking good to me, baby” He hums, leaning against your body so you were entirely pressing against him, his tongue running along your skin. Once again, you could feel his sloppy kisses against your shoulder and your neck.

“Nobody can fuck you like I can, Pretty girl. Your mine. You’re all fucking mine, you hear me?” You cry out a yes, the sound of your skin slapping against each others being the only thing that could be heard. “That’s it, just like that, my love” He praises against your ear, holding your hips to press into his.

“Colby, I’m gonna come… oh my god” You whine into the sheet, feeling the pressure building up fast inside you. He’s a grunting mess above you so you knew he was close as well, he was only holding out for you. “Come with me. Please, don’t hold out on me”

The snap of his hips slow down the closer he gets, and now your body is flush against his own, rocking back and forth to his pace with his face buried in your neck.

“I fucking love you, Y/N. My girl, come for me and only me, yeah?” You moan at his words, throwing your head back against his chest as his fingers circle your sensitive clit. you couldn’t hold it anymore, and neither could he. “I’m right behind you”

Drunk sex always felt way too good but usually it was faster and much sweatier, this felt far too different. Even if your hips moved fast against his, it still felt like everything had been in slow motion. The way his hands held your delicate body in his embrace as he thrust his hips up to meet your own, how his lips parted in anticipation to kiss yours, Colby was so hungry for you—his body, was hungry for you.

“Colby… Colby!” His name rolls off your tongue in a beautiful moan. You can feel his slight hesitance but the eyes you give him are enough to tell him exactly what you wanted. You wanted all of him, just as you said.

“Fuck…!” He curses under his breath, your moans filling his ears as you clenched down onto him. He continues to coach you to it, and with one last snap of his hips and circle to your clit, you felt your body release it’s everything onto his. He shushes your loud scream while silencing his own grunts, fingers digging into your hips to pull you close, painting your gummy walls with his white, hot release.

For awhile, All that was heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds of the tv in the other room, and you soon found yourself collapsed next to each other on the bed. Your chests were heaving horribly, and the sweat that drip from your foreheads were now everywhere. You look over at the boy next to you, only to find he had already been looking at you, both of you breathing heavy—lips parted.

It only took a second for one of you to start laughing, and Colby leaned over to kiss you again, this time staying there for the longest he could.

You hum as he pulls away just a tiny bit, still close to your face. Your eyes are shut, relishing in the feeling you had. How do you go on from this? Clearly you two loved each other, but you prayed it wouldn’t be weird…

“Come here” He lays his arm out, pulling your body closer to his so you could lay your head against his chest. The room was hot and smelled of pure sex but neither of you complained. You were just happy.

“Colby…” You mumble after awhile in silence, tracing the tattoo on his chest for the 2nd time. He hums in response, the tips of his fingers brushing through your soft hair. You almost feel bad, as if you’re about to ruin the amazing night you had—but you had to say it. “Where do we go from here..?”

Your voice is low and nervous, so focused on the negative that you couldn’t even see the obvious answer. Colby made it clear what he wanted. He couldn’t go back to normal with you—not after this night.

“I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N. I’ve always wanted that” He pushes your hair away from your face, placing his finger under your chin to lift it. “Please tell me that’s what you want too”

Your eyes soften at his hesitant tone, grabbing the hand that sat under your chin to intertwine your fingers. Of course you wanted that. It was all you ever wanted.

You nod

“Sam is going to be so happy”

Just a little something different 😉. See y’all whenever :))

[tsuutarr]

Yandere!Hero (Chosen One) x Saint!Reader

In all of his life, Elias only remembers crying once. It was when he was a young boy, no older than six years old. He had been taken to the Church for a baptism, only for his holy power and status as the Chosen One to be revealed. He had then been stolen from his parents and beaten black and blue until he was molded into the Hero that would save everyone.

Resigned to his role, Elias never allowed himself to feel any semblance of emotion. He only needs to fulfill the prophecy, after all. No one cares about who he is as a person, about him. They’ve put him outside to protect the borders of humanity by sacrificing his life. They’ve put a distance between him, parading him as a Hero while masking their selfish desires of having him take on the entire burden of bringing salvation to humankind. He is nothing more than a glorified sacrifice without the privilege of feeling emotions. 

But if that’s the case, why does his heart ache when he’s with you? Why does his stomach flutter? Why does a smile he had thought he lost in his youth come back when you’re around? Why does rage burn his fingers when you get hurt? Why do tears wet his cheeks when he holds your cold, lifeless body?

Please, please tell him that you’re just sleeping. Tell him that you’ll greet him when morning comes. Please, use your warm hands to brush his tears away. Tell him that it’ll all be okay.

Despite Elias’ ardent desires, the dead cannot comfort the living. 

“My child,” a voice from the Heavens calls, a beam of light surrounding Elias. “I thank you for your service.”

“Please,” Elias murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I cannot live without the Saint.”

The voice above is silent as it observes Elias, who cradles you in his arms like you’re his most important treasure. “I cannot change the hands of fate.”

“Then I will,” Elias responds. “Turn back time for me and I will find another way to seal the Demon Lord.”

“It does not exist. You will only put yourself through the same pain.”

“It doesn’t matter to me. As long as I can save the Saint.”

The voice from the Heavens is silent, before it says, “Very well. If that is your desire.”

And so, time is rewinded back to when Elias was a young boy. He once again goes to Church to receive baptism. He is once again shown to be the Hero. He is once again stripped from his parents and beaten black and blue, but this time, he does not cry. Instead, he looks forward so that he can find a way to save you.

But no matter Elias’ efforts, bad end after bad end follows his footsteps. No matter what he does, no matter what he changes, no matter what, bad ends are the only ends he meets with. A good ending where the world is saved and you are still alive just doesn’t exist. So, Elias has no choice, really. He’ll create his own bad end, except this time, the world will be sacrificed for you.

[rizzanon]

01 | SIXTEEN AGAIN

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Your breath hitched, and your phone slipped from your trembling fingers, landing with a soft thud on the carpet.

Four years ago.

The date burned in your mind like a cruel joke. It couldn’t be real. It shouldn’t be real. But the reflection staring back at you, the unfamiliar-yet-familiar state of your room, and the unscarred body you now wore told you otherwise.

This was real.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, but the air felt too thick, too suffocating. You sank onto the edge of your bed, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as your thoughts spiraled.

What was happening? Was this some kind of hallucination? Were you dead, and this was some twisted afterlife?

You closed your eyes, trying to remember everything that had led up to this moment. The warehouse. The fight with the drug ring members. The blood. And then it hit you.

You died.

There was no questioning it. You felt your heart stop. You felt yourself take your last breath. You remembered the darkness afterwards. The quietness.

Before you heard the alarm.

A noise so mundane, yet so impossibly jarring in the context of your supposed death.

Your heart pounded as new thoughts invaded your mind. If this was real—if you were truly back to being 16—what does this mean?

Was this meant to be a second chance for you?

A second chance?

That was rare.

But a second chance for what exactly? To try again? Another chance to make yourself seen in this godforsaken family? But what use would that be? If you couldn’t do that before, what changes things now?

What exactly could you even fix?

Was it any use to try and see if anything you could change now would make your family acknowledge you?

Your hands tightened into fists as doubt and fear crept in. Four years ago, you were a girl who’d spent every waking moment trying to prove herself. Four years ago, you were still chasing the approval of a family who barely seemed to notice. Four years ago, you were still desperate to find your place, even if it meant destroying yourself in the process.

Did you have to repeat that whole process again? Go through all that pain and disappointment and loneliness all over again?

You shook your head violently, banishing the thought. No. You wouldn’t let that happen. Never again. This time, you’d do things differently. This time, you wouldn’t let yourself go through that again.

Not when that very thing drove you to your death.

You stood up from your bed and when towards your dressing table. Your gaze locked onto your reflection, lingering on your hair. The long, luscious black curls framed your face, a stark reminder of everything you’d endured when you were sixteen. It felt foreign, almost like you were looking at someone else entirely. Back then, your hair had been a source of pride—something you nurtured and refused to cut because you wanted it to grow naturally, to be perfect.

But now, seeing it again after everything you’d been through, it didn’t feel like pride. It felt like a symbol of the girl you used to be. A girl who sought validation in all the wrong places. A girl who let the weight of everyone else’s expectations crush her.

Without hesitation, you reached for the pair of scissors on your desk. You picked them up, holding them firmly in your hand. For a moment, you hesitated, the memories of your past self flashing through your mind. Then, with a sharp breath, you snipped.

The first lock of hair fell to the floor, and you kept going, cutting away the length of your curls until your hair rested just below your shoulders. It was a bit uneven, messy, and far from perfect—but that didn’t matter. The act itself felt liberating, like shedding a layer of skin that didn’t belong to you anymore.

When you finally put the scissors down, you stared at your reflection. You barely recognized the person staring back at you, but for the first time in a long time, you didn’t mind.

This was you. A new you. A girl who wasn’t going to live her life chasing after her family’s approval. A girl who wasn’t going to let herself spiral into loneliness and despair again.

You swore, in that moment, that you’d do things differently. This second chance—whatever it was, however it came to be—was yours. You wouldn’t let anyone dictate your worth this time.

This time, you’d live for yourself.

A soft knock at the door startled you from your thoughts. Your heart stilled as a familiar voice reached your ears, a voice you hadn’t heard in so long—a voice you thought you’d never hear again.

“Miss, are you all right? You’ve missed breakfast. I wanted to check on you.”

Your heart began to pound. You stood frozen for a moment before rushing to the door. As you opened it, you felt your breath hitch.

There he was. Alfred Pennyworth. The man who was supposed to be dead.

But he wasn’t. Not here. Not now. Because somehow, you’d been sent back to the past, and he was alive. Standing in front of you, as real as the pounding of your heart.

You stared at him, wide-eyed, your emotions wavering between shock and overwhelming sadness. Was this why you were sent back? Was this your chance to save him?

Alfred’s expression shifted as he took in your freshly cut hair, his usual composure faltering for just a moment.

“You’ve, uh… changed your look,” he said gently, a hint of hesitation in his voice. “May I ask… why?”

You didn’t answer him right away. Instead, you lunged forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him. You could feel his body tense under your embrace, likely caught off guard, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let go just yet. Damnit, you missed him.

It took Alfred a beat to respond, and even then, his arms came around you tentatively, a silent acknowledgment of the sudden outburst. “Miss,” he began softly, concern lacing his tone, but before he could say more, you pulled back abruptly.

A stray tear had escaped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, offering him a small, shaky smile.

“I just thought it was time for a change,” you replied simply, your voice steadier than you felt.

Alfred’s sharp eyes caught the tear despite your best efforts to hide it. His brow furrowed slightly. “Are you certain you’re all right, Miss?”

You shook your head quickly, forcing your smile to widen. “I’m fine, Alfred. Really.”

He hesitated for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but finally gave a small nod. “Very well, then. Breakfast is waiting for you downstairs.”

You gave him a grateful look and stepped past him, heading downstairs to eat.

As you walked away, Alfred remained rooted in place, watching you. Something was different. He’d seen it in your eyes, in the way you smiled, and in the way you’d hugged him.

He couldn’t place what had shifted, but whatever it was, it wasn’t just another day.

You stepped into the kitchen, the familiar scent of Alfred’s cooking wafting through the air. At the table, you spotted Damian already eating. He was so much younger than you remembered—shorter, his posture not as rigid, but the scowl on his face? Oh, that was exactly the same.

If you were 16, then Damian must be about 11 now. The realization hit you like a wave, and you couldn’t help but stare for a moment, taking in the sight of your youngest brother looking… well, like a kid again.

Unfortunately, he noticed.

Damian’s sharp green eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you pause mid-step. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you like you were an alien that had invaded his space.

Internally, you thought, What the heck is his problem? But you weren’t about to let him get under your skin. Not this time.

You walked over to the table, keeping your composure, and took your seat. Alfred had already set out your plate—classic scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit, just like you remembered from those years.

As you settled into your chair, Damian finally broke the silence.

“What the hell did you do to your hair?”

You glanced at him briefly but didn’t rise to the bait. “Good morning to you too, Damian,” you replied calmly, picking up your fork.

Damian’s eyes narrowed as he leaned back in his chair, studying you with a scrutinizing gaze. Then he huffed. “It looks stupid.”

That ticked you off. Your grip on the fork tightened momentarily, but you caught yourself before you could snap back. Instead, you took a deep breath and decided to let it go. Without saying a word, you simply started eating your breakfast.

For a split second, you swore you saw Damian flinch, his gaze flicking down to his plate. He let out an annoyed scoff, stabbing his oatmeal with his fork, and mumbled something under his breath.

You couldn’t help but feel a tiny spark of triumph. Ignoring him, not letting him get to you was a win, right?

You kept eating, pretending not to notice how Damian kept sneaking glances at you from across the table, his expression unreadable. Whatever he was thinking, you weren’t going to let it bother you.

Not this time.

Damian had been awake long before the sun rose. His mornings were always disciplined: training, meditation, and breakfast—his time to exist without the noise of others. By the time he sat at the table, the house was still and quiet, just the way he preferred it.

Today was no exception. He ate his breakfast in relative peace, each bite of oatmeal and fruit deliberate as he mentally reviewed his plans for the day. That peace, however, shattered the moment you entered the kitchen.

He heard you before he saw you, the soft padding of your steps on the hardwood floor. He didn’t bother looking up at first, expecting to see you shuffling in half-asleep as you often did. But something made him glance up—and that’s when he froze.

Your hair.

It was short. Messy. Uneven in places, as though you’d taken a pair of scissors to it in a fit of frustration. He blinked, staring, his mind working to reconcile this with the version of you he’d seen just yesterday. What the hell happened?

“What the hell did you do to your hair?” he asked sharply, the words tumbling out before he could stop himself.

You paused, your eyes flicking to him briefly before responding with infuriating calmness. “Good morning to you too, Damian.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed. Normally, you’d snap back with some sarcastic remark. That was how it always went with the two of you—a constant back-and-forth of sharp words. Especially when your father or Grayson wasn’t around to stop you two from bickering. But now? Nothing.

“It looks stupid,” he added, his tone more biting than before.

You didn’t even flinch. Instead, you calmly reached for the plate Alfred had prepared for you, picked up your fork, and started eating.

Damian stared, his expression hardening. What was this? Why weren’t you responding? The silence grated on his nerves in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

His eyes flickered back to your hair. It wasn’t just the fact that it was short—though that was strange enough. It was what the act symbolized. You had always been so particular about your hair, letting it grow long, keeping it neat. He remembered you fussing over it, refusing to cut even the split ends because you wanted it “natural.”

But now? You’d hacked it off like it meant nothing.

Damian’s fingers tapped against the edge of his plate as he studied you. Something was different about you. It wasn’t just the hair. It was the way you carried yourself, the calmness in your demeanor that didn’t belong to the person he remembered.

And it unsettled him.

He hated not understanding things, and right now, you were an enigma. Damian prided himself on being observant, on reading people with precision, but you were throwing him off completely.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, stabbing at his oatmeal with unnecessary force.

Despite himself, his gaze kept flicking back to you. You ate in silence, seemingly unbothered by his presence—or his insults. And for a moment, just a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of something in your eyes. Something quiet. Resigned.

Damian scoffed, turning back to his food, but the uneasy feeling lingered.

Whatever had changed in you overnight, it unsettled him more than he cared to admit. You were acting like a stranger, like he didn’t matter, and Damian hated that.

Why did he hate that? He doesn’t know. But what he does know is that he hated not knowing things. And right now, he had no idea what changed about you overnight. Though one thing was clear: he wasn’t going to let it slide. Not until he figured it out.

You shoveled the rest of your breakfast into your mouth as quickly as you could manage, the clock on the wall reminding you just how little time you had. It had been so long since you’d been in school—high school, no less. The thought made your stomach churn.

High school. The one place where whispers and rumors followed you like shadows. Where the weight of your name and the absence of your family’s visible support made you feel like a target. Where every glance, every muttered word, felt like a judgment.

But then, another thought struck you.

High school also meant Adrien and Caitlyn.

Your heart skipped a beat at the realization. Adrien and Caitlyn—your two closest friends, the ones who stuck by you when no one else dared. The ones who had tried so hard to pull you out of your destructive spiral, to get you to stop chasing the approval of a family that seemed indifferent. And how did you repay them? You pushed them away.

You could still remember the way their faces fell when you told them off, accusing them of not understanding you, of not understanding why you needed to prove yourself. The hurt in their eyes, the silence that followed. You hadn’t seen them in years.

But now? Now you had the chance to fix it.

The thought gave you a renewed sense of urgency. You stood, grabbing your bag—or what you thought was your bag. You weren’t even sure if it had everything you needed, but you didn’t care. You just needed to go.

As you rushed down the stairs, Alfred appeared at the base, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Miss, where on Earth are you running off to in such a hurry?”

“School!” you blurted, already moving past him.

“School?” Alfred repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. “Miss, if you insist on going, at least allow me to—”

“No time!” you called over your shoulder, pushing open the front door. “I’ll take the bus!”

“The bus? Miss—”

But you didn’t wait to hear the rest of his protests. You bolted down the driveway, your bag bouncing against your back as you ran. The crisp morning air stung your lungs, but you didn’t care.

You had to catch the bus.

You had to see them.

The thought of Adrien and Caitlyn waiting at the school, of their familiar faces, of the chance to mend what you’d broken—it filled you with equal parts hope and fear. What if they didn’t forgive you? What if they’d moved on?

No. You couldn’t let yourself think that way.

This was your second chance.

A chance to make things right.

You reached the bus stop just in time, your breath coming in short gasps as the vehicle pulled up. The doors hissed open, and you stepped inside, your mind racing faster than your feet had moments ago.

For years, you had regretted the way things ended with them. Now, you had the chance to fix it. You just had to find the courage to do it.

You fumbled in your skirt pocket, fingers brushing against a few spare coins. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to cover the fare. You dropped the change into the slot, the clinking sound strangely grounding in this surreal moment.

As you stepped further into the bus, your eyes scanned the rows of seats. The hum of the engine and the soft chatter of other students filled the space, but all of that faded when your gaze landed on two familiar figures in the back row.

Adrien, with his short blond hair falling messily over his forehead, was leaning back against the window, lazily scrolling through his phone. Caitlyn, her brown hair tied neatly in a ponytail, sat beside him, scribbling something into a notebook.

Your chest tightened. There they were. Just as you remembered them.

The realization hit you all over again, like a tidal wave crashing against your chest: you were back. Truly, impossibly, undeniably back.

Your gaze lingered on them, drawn to the easy camaraderie between the two. Adrien muttered something, and Caitlyn rolled her eyes with a smirk before elbowing him lightly. The sight was painfully nostalgic, a reminder of the warmth and friendship you’d so carelessly tossed aside.

Then you noticed the empty seat beside them.

It called to you, tempting you to go over, to sit down, to fall back into the fold of their friendship as if nothing had ever happened. You took a hesitant step forward, but your feet faltered.

No. Not yet.

They hadn’t noticed you yet, and maybe that was for the best. You couldn’t just barge back into their lives, not without making things right first. You owed them an apology—a real one—and this wasn’t the time or place for it.

So, you slid into an empty seat farther up the bus, one out of their line of sight.

You exhaled shakily, leaning back against the seat as your mind churned. Seeing them again after all this time stirred up a whirlwind of emotions—guilt, longing, hope, and fear all tangled together.

You didn’t want to ruin their morning. You didn’t want to come crashing back into their lives uninvited, not when they didn’t even know what you carried in your heart.

For now, you’d wait.

But as you sat there, your eyes flickered to the reflection in the window, catching the faint outlines of Adrien and Caitlyn in the background. You couldn’t help but hope that later, you’d be able to face them properly and make things right.

The bus ride felt agonizingly slow, your heart thrumming in your chest as the city passed by in a blur. You were sixteen again. Sixteen, sitting in a high school bus, on your way to Gotham Academy. The thought was still absurd.

When the bus finally pulled up to the school, you stepped off hesitantly, your shoes hitting the pavement with a weight you hadn’t felt in years. Gotham Academy loomed before you, as grand and imposing as ever. The sprawling stone building with its Gothic spires seemed to mock you, its arched windows catching the pale morning sunlight.

You stood frozen for a moment, staring up at the place that had been the backdrop for so many of your formative years. Nostalgia washed over you, bittersweet and suffocating.

The courtyard was already buzzing with students. Groups of teenagers clustered around benches, laughing, chatting, or finishing up last-minute assignments. Some darted across the lawn to catch up with friends. Others leaned against the stone walls, scrolling through their phones.

It was so familiar. The hum of conversation, the subtle hierarchy of who sat where, the tension of homework left undone—it all came rushing back to you. It felt like stepping into a memory, but this wasn’t just a memory. This was real.

You inhaled deeply, the crisp morning air tinged with the faint scent of freshly cut grass and chalk dust.

Two years. It had been two years since you’d last walked these halls. Two years since you’d graduated and left this chapter of your life behind. Except now, here you were, a sixteen-year-old all over again, staring at the same building with the same familiar ache in your chest.

Your gaze shifted to the steps leading to the main entrance. How many times had you trudged up those stairs, your bag heavier than your shoulders could bear? How many times had you stood here, dreading the day ahead because of whispers you couldn’t silence and rumors you couldn’t stop?

The same faces. The same cliques. You spotted people you hadn’t thought about in years, younger and unburdened by the drama that would inevitably unfold.

The weight of it all hit you again. This wasn’t just a second chance to relive the past. This was a chance to change it. To fix the things that had gone wrong. To make peace with the person you were at sixteen and the choices you made.

Your grip tightened on the strap of your bag as you forced yourself to take a step forward, then another. Each step brought a flood of memories, some sweet, others bitter.

This time, things were going to be different.

This was it. The start of your new beginning—or your repeat, depending on how you looked at it.

The rest of the school day went surprisingly smoothly. Classes passed by with minimal hassle, and you even managed to take a few notes—though it was difficult to focus on anything but the surreal fact that you were truly sixteen again.

At lunch, you avoided the cafeteria entirely. You weren’t ready to deal with the crowded chaos yet, so you found a quiet spot outside and ate there instead. The day wasn’t as bad as you remembered, though the whispers and side glances still lingered in the corners of your awareness.

By the time the final bell rang, you almost dared to think that high school wasn’t as awful as you had built it up in your mind. Maybe it was the years of separation—or maybe it was the determination you felt now, knowing you wouldn’t let the same things happen again.

But just as you stepped out of your last class and into the hall, a hand gripped your wrist tightly, yanking you backward. Before you could react, you were dragged into an empty classroom.

The door clicked shut behind you, and when you turned, you froze.

Chloe Travers.

She stood before you with her arms crossed, a wicked smile curling at the corners of her lips. She hadn’t changed a bit—not that you expected her to. Her pristine blonde curls, immaculate uniform, and piercing green eyes screamed perfection. But you knew better.

Chloe was the reason your high school years had been hell. The daughter of influential Gotham socialites, she was untouchable—at least, that’s what everyone believed. Her reputation was pristine, but beneath it was a master manipulator who thrived on making others miserable. She never did anything that could directly incriminate her, and when she couldn’t keep her hands clean, her clique—Maya, Darius, Victoria, Ryder, and Sienna—always covered for her.

You clenched your fists, already bracing for whatever cruel remark she was about to make.

“I almost didn’t recognize you with that awful haircut,” she sneered, taking a slow step closer. “What, did Daddy finally stop paying for your fancy stylists? Or are you just trying to make a statement now?”

You swallowed the bitterness rising in your throat, but this time, you didn’t shrink back.

“Thanks for noticing,” you said evenly, your tone sharper than you’d ever dared to use before.

Her expression faltered for a split second, but she quickly recovered, her smirk widening. “Wow, you’ve grown a backbone. What’s next? You’ll actually try to fight back this time?”

“I don’t need to fight back against someone whose entire personality revolves around making people miserable,” you shot back, keeping your voice steady.

Her eyes narrowed, and the room grew tense. Chloe’s lips curled into a condescending grin.

“You really think you’re so much better now, don’t you?” she hissed. “You’re still the same pathetic little shadow, clinging to your daddy’s name to make yourself seem important.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to let her see the way her words stung.

“I’m not the one clinging to my parents for relevance,” you said coolly. “At least I know how to do something other than bully people.”

Her face twisted in fury, and before you could blink, her hand shot up, ready to strike you across the face.

But the impact never came.

A hand stopped hers mid-air, gripping her wrist firmly. Your breath caught as you turned to see Adrien standing there, his jaw tight and his eyes burning with anger.

“Enough,” he said sharply, his voice cold and commanding.

At the same time, someone stepped in front of you protectively, shielding you from Chloe. Caitlyn. Her presence was steady and reassuring, her shoulders squared as if daring Chloe to challenge her.

“You okay?” Caitlyn asked over her shoulder, not taking her eyes off Chloe.

You nodded numbly, unable to form words.

Chloe yanked her arm free from Adrien’s grip, glaring at him. “You’re making a mistake,” she spat, her voice trembling with rage.

“No,” Adrien said calmly, his gaze unwavering. “The mistake would be letting you get away with this again.”

Without another word, Caitlyn grabbed your hand gently but firmly and started leading you out of the room. Adrien followed close behind, his presence a silent warning to Chloe not to follow.

The walk to another empty classroom was silent, tension hanging thick in the air. When you finally stopped, Caitlyn let go of your hand, and the three of you stood there, the quiet almost unbearable.

You stared at them, your mind racing. Why? Why did they jump in like that? Why did they defend you, especially after what happened the last time you’d been sixteen? You remembered the argument clearly, even though it had been four years for you. For them, though, it was probably still fresh.

Before you could say anything, Caitlyn hesitated, then broke the silence.

“Your hair,” she said softly, her tone unsure.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What about it?”

She shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Adrien before looking back at you. “It’s… different. Shorter. You never would’ve done that before.”

Adrien crossed his arms, his expression unreadable as he studied you. “Yeah. What’s going on with you, (Name)?”

You blinked, your throat tightening. “What do you mean?”

“You’re different,” Caitlyn said, stepping closer. Her usual sharpness was softened by concern. “Chloe’s always been horrible, but you’ve never fought back like that before. And now… you’ve cut your hair and…” She trailed off, her brow furrowing.

Adrien crossed his arms, tilting his head as he studied you. “We’re not mad, but we’re worried. You’re not acting like yourself. Did something happen?”

The care in their voices made your chest ache. For years, you’d thought about how deeply you regretted pushing them away, how much you missed them. Now, standing in front of them again, with their concern still so evident despite everything, you didn’t know what to say.

Your lip quivered, and you glanced at the floor, feeling shame creep up your spine. They didn’t deserve the way you’d treated them back then. They were great friends—better than you’d ever acknowledged.

And you threw it all away because you were so caught up in proving yourself to your family.

“I…” Your voice cracked, and you looked up at them, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to spill. “I’m sorry.”

Adrien and Caitlyn exchanged a surprised look, but neither of them interrupted you.

“I’m so, so sorry,” you said, your voice breaking. “For everything. For how I treated you both. For all the awful things I said. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

You could see their brows knit with confusion, but you couldn’t stop. “You two… you were always there for me. Always trying to help, always standing by me. And I pushed you away like an idiot because I was so focused on proving something to people who didn’t even care.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you hurriedly wiped it away. “I don’t even know why you bothered with me after the way I acted. I don’t deserve friends like you. I don’t deserve you.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Your chest tightened as you added, “And I get it. I’d understand if you don’t want to be friends with me anymore after what I said and did, but—”

You didn’t get to finish.

Caitlyn lunged forward, wrapping her arms around you tightly, cutting off your words with the force of her hug. A second later, Adrien joined her, his arms wrapping around both of you.

For a moment, you were too stunned to move. But as their warmth sank in, so did the overwhelming sense of relief. You let out a shuddering breath, the tears finally spilling freely as you hugged them back.

“You’re such an idiot,” Caitlyn mumbled into your shoulder, her voice trembling. “But we missed you.”

Adrien chuckled softly. “Yeah. Don’t think we’re letting you off the hook that easily. You still owe us an explanation.”

You laughed—a real, genuine laugh—and it felt like something inside you was healing. For the first time in years, you felt lighter.

“Maybe it’s because of the new haircut,” Adrien joked, pulling back slightly to ruffle your still-damp hair.

“Oh, shut up,” you said, sniffling but smiling.

They both grinned, and the three of you stood there for a moment, wrapped in a bubble of comfort and understanding. Whatever came next, you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t letting go of them this time.

You walked into the manor, cheeks hurting from the wide smile you couldn’t seem to shake off. For once, you felt like you were doing something right—something for yourself. The weight of guilt and regret that had once plagued you felt lighter, almost manageable. You’d made up with Adrien and Caitlyn. You’d taken the first step in changing things.

It felt surreal, like you were rewriting the script of your life in ways you hadn’t dared to dream before.

As you walked into the living room, Alfred was tidying up, humming softly to himself. He glanced up when he saw you, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity.

“You’re back earlier than expected,” he said, pausing his work. “And wearing a smile that’s far too wide to be anything ordinary. Might I ask what has brought this unusual cheer to your day?”

You grinned, almost mischievously. “Let’s just say… things are changing, Alfred. For the better.”

Alfred raised a brow but didn’t press further. “Hmm, cryptic as always, I see. Well, whatever has brought this change, I hope it continues to do so.”

You turned to head upstairs, but Alfred’s voice stopped you. “Oh, before I forget,” he said, “you do have a patrol scheduled for tonight. Do be mindful of the time.”

And just like that, your smile faltered. Patrol. Right. How could you almost forget? Almost.

Because this was that time—when you were sixteen, desperate to prove yourself, and driven by an endless spiral of toxic self-comparison. This was the period when Stephanie had donned the Batgirl mantle, leaving behind her identity as Spoiler, and your insecurities had spiraled out of control.

Back then, you felt overshadowed, like Stephanie’s presence somehow diminished your worth. Even after she eventually returned to being Spoiler, the damage was already done in your mind. You hadn’t “won” anything; you’d simply been left behind.

But now… now, standing in this second chance at life, you could see how warped your thinking had been. None of it mattered. What mattered was doing what was right—not for anyone else, but for yourself.

Your resolve solidified. You turned back to Alfred. “Where’s father?”

Alfred frowned slightly, tilting his head. “In the cave, as usual. Why do you ask?”

You didn’t answer, simply nodded and headed toward the clock entrance. Alfred’s confused expression followed you, but he didn’t question further.

Descending into the Batcave, the cool air and faint hum of machinery enveloped you. The smell of leather, metal, and the faint chemical tang of the medbay felt familiar, almost comforting.

There he was, seated at the Batcomputer, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he scanned reports and case files. His back was to you, but you didn’t need to see his face to know the intensity of his focus.

“Father,” you called out.

Bruce didn’t turn, though his fingers paused briefly over the keyboard. “I’m here,” he replied, his voice steady and sharp, as always. “What is it?”

You stepped further in, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m not going on patrol tonight.”

Bruce didn’t react at first, still absorbed in whatever was on the screen. “Alright,” he said absently. “I’ll reschedule your route for another time. Stephanie can fill in for you tonight—”

“No,” you interrupted, your voice firm. “That’s not what I meant.”

Finally, Bruce stopped typing. Slowly, he turned his chair around to face you, his expression calm but searching. “Then what do you mean?”

You took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage you had. “I’m done, Father. I’m quitting as Batgirl.”

i don’t think this really focused on the batfam as much, it’s more of world-building i suppose. but the next parts will definitely showcase more of the batfam!!

taglist (open): @tricksters-maze @dusk-muse @quethekillerqueen @silverklaus @isupportorbitalbombardment @nxdxsworld @vanessa-boo @coffeeaddictxd @moonsbluekingdom @yuya-bubbly @percythebitchwitch @anonymousdisco @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @redsakura101 @what-0-life @idkwhattoputhete @secretyouthcomputer @witch-waycult @allycat4458 @dazed-lavender @eclecticfurylady @wizzerreblogs @marsmabe @daddysfangirls-dc @hoeinthehouse @beeweensblog @ilxandra @agent-nobody-knows @thethingwiththefeathers @mochiivqi @pix-stuff @narration-ator @nebulousmoon3990 @delias-stuff @froggy-voidd @jjsmeowthie @kore-of-the-underworld @nen-nyy @juthesillylesbain @vikkus-main @emilylouise123 @blueiones @horror-lover-69 @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wassupbroski55555 | ask to be added <3 (idk why i can’t tag some of y’all, must be your settings i think 😓)

[chubby-bun-bun]

untitled (part 1)

You help out an injured crow. It seems to be a bit of a strange crow, though.

nav: one (current), two, three, four, five, six or: read on ao3

tags: sylus x reader, still linkon city but mc is not a hunter, basically an alternate universe, minor character deaths, mc has a distinct backstory and personality, slow burn, hurt/comfort, you’re lowkey a disney princess witch character who attracts crows 🐦‍⬛✨💅

314.27.

You exhale slowly. Barely enough to cover food for the next two weeks, until your next paycheck. That nasty cold last week really gutted this month’s budget.

With a heavy heart, you retrieve your card from the ATM and start your usual trek toward the city park, stopping by the familiar food cart that sells peanuts at a good price. (Yes, a questionable purchase, considering your financial situation. No, you will not acknowledge said questionable purchase.)

Linkon City in mid-December is bone-chillingly cold, blanketed in powdery snow—but that’s never stopped you from your daily visit to the park. The freezing temperatures tend to drive most people away, leaving the usually lively space quiet. You, however, can’t resist coming to see your friends.

Caw! Caw! Caw!

Speak of the devil. Well, devils.

A giddy smile tugs at your lips, and the exhaustion from the day evaporates.

“Hi!” you call out to the murder of crows circling above. Their midnight feathers gleam against the brilliant pink, orange, and purple hues of the winter sunset. You reach into the inside pocket of your weathered but ever-loyal overcoat and grab a handful of peanuts, tossing them onto the snow-free patches of ground.

The crows descend immediately, squabbling as they pick at the treats.

Moving carefully so you don’t spook them, you settle onto a nearby bench. A few of the bolder ones flutter down to join you, perching on the bench as their beady eyes lock on your face. Beaks held high, they wait expectantly, clearly hoping for more. You huff a soft laugh and oblige, tossing another handful.

Your peculiar friendship with these crows began a few years ago. The day of your family’s funeral.

A drunk twenty-year-old behind the wheel of his rich businessman father’s SUV, barreling down the highway at four times the speed limit. Your mother, father, and younger brother, on their way to your college graduation. A tragic case of wrong place, wrong time.

You don’t remember much after that. Everything that followed was all a blur. The driver didn’t really face any consequences, thanks to their family’s influence. Their lawyer presented you with a pitiful settlement offer (or, in hindsight, maybe you were more or less threatened into accepting it). Maybe it was the overwhelming sense of hopelessness at the time, or the suspicion that your lawyer might have been paid off by the driver’s family, but you ended up agreeing to settle.

It didn’t matter anyway. Your family was dead.

The funeral was a simple event. Some extended family came to offer their support and condolences. Once the day ended and everyone went home, however, you were left alone in your family’s house.

You don’t remember much, but you do remember standing in the middle of your living room, a growing tightness in your chest slowly overtaking you, as if your heart was being squeezed from the inside. The walls of the room seemed to close in around you, and suddenly it was impossible to breathe. Somehow, you ended up bolting out the door—leaving it wide open behind you—and ran. You didn’t know where you were going, but you eventually found yourself here, at this very park, sitting on this very bench.

A single crow had perched nearby, watching you silently. Your hand brushed against your coat pocket, and you found some leftover peanut shells from the funeral’s snack offerings. You absentmindedly tossed them toward the crow, and it hopped down to peck at them. There was something oddly comforting in the way it ate, its sharp black eyes darting back toward you as if to say thank you.

The next day, you returned. One crow turned into three, then six. Slowly, more joined, until it seemed like the entire murder looked forward to your daily visits and peanut offerings.

A sudden, loud thump behind you pulls you from your thoughts. You instinctively turn toward the sound, only to find… nothing. Frowning, you scan the area, glancing left and right, until your eyes land on a crow lying on the ground directly behind your bench.

You gasp and quickly stand, rushing over to it.

“Are you okay?” you whisper, crouching down and scanning it for signs of injury. It looks like it fell straight out of the sky.

The crow caws at you—loudly. Unlike the murder behind you, its caw is sharper, more jarring. It grates against your ears like nails on a chalkboard. Its eyes seem to gleam red when the light catches them at certain angles, similar to how a cat’s eyes flash in the dark.

Then your gaze drops to its left wing, which is bent unnaturally.

“Did you hurt yourself?” you murmur, leaning closer to examine it. The injury doesn’t look like a typical fracture. The way the wing bends reminds you more of a mechanical part with a screw loose than a broken bone.

It caws again, louder this time, as if trying to get your attention.

You glance up at the sky and realize it’s grown darker. Heavy clouds swirl above, signaling an impending snowfall. Behind you, the other crows begin to disperse, their farewell squawks echoing as they take flight.

Looking back down at the injured crow, you watch as it tries to take off, only to crash back onto the ground with its unusable wing.

“Um, would you like to stay with me until your wing feels better?” you ask hesitantly.

The crow tilts its head to the side, almost as if it understands you. You miss the subtle garnet glow in its eyes as you carefully scoop it into your arms, cradling it gently to avoid jostling its injured wing.

“I’ll help you out until you’re better,” you say softly, already walking toward home. “I don’t have much, but you can have the rest of the peanuts I bought earlier.”

The crow doesn’t resist, settling into your arms. Its body relaxes against you, and you tighten your hold to shield it from the cold winter air.

You know your groceries won’t stretch far for the rest of the month, but your conscience won’t let you leave an injured animal out in the snow. Hugging the crow a little closer, you feel a small smile tug at your lips when it starts to coo softly.

You don’t notice the faint whirring sound beneath its gentle cooing, like the hum of tiny mechanical gears.

note: not sure where I’m headed with this tbh, but it’s kinda like an alternate universe of the game’s main story. still set in linkon and the concept of evols still exist, but mc is basically an average citizen. (lowkey gonna treat this whole thing as a massive projection of recent irl feelings teehee.) we’ll see how this goes!

nav: one (current), two, three, four, five, six or: read on ao3

check out my other works!

[uchiha-archives]

Eternal Love

Summary: Nobody loves as intensely as an Uchiha, and no Uchiha loves as intensely as Uchiha Madara. He will bring this world to its knees just to avenge her and to be reunited with her again, and as far as he’s concerned, he will succeed. Damn anyone who dares to get in his way.

Genre: Marriage!AU, Established Relationship!AU, Uchiha Couple!AU, Reanimation Jutsu!AU, Fluff!AU, Fluff-Smut!AU, Angst!AU (Barely Any Angst, Just Some Sprinkles - Happy Endings All Around)

Pairings: Uchiha Madara x Wife! Reader, Uchiha Madara x Uchiha! Reader

Warnings: Possessiveness/Protectiveness (Very Mild), Death and Mentions of Death (Mainly Flashbacks), Reanimation of the Dead, War/Conflict (No Matter the Era), Fighting/Mild Violence

Word Count: 8,303

Written: October 27th, 2023, Posted: November 30th, 2023

When you opened your eyes, you weren’t expecting to be greeted by a boy you didn’t recognize with red eyes that you just knew were the Sharingan.

You instinctively raised your guard and as soon as you could feel yourself get in full control of your body you activated your own Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan and took a step back, ready to counter if necessary. You had to be prepared, - your vision was still blurry from being woken up and everything was still slightly disorienting even with the Sharingan but you couldn’t let your opponent see that.

Once your vision started to come back into focus you took a quick look around your surroundings and saw Hashirama and Tobirama, standing alongside who you knew to be Hiruzen, the Third Hokage, and a blonde man you didn’t recognize. A little further behind were a few more people you also didn’t recognize, but the hand sign that the pale one held in place let you know that they were one to reanimate you.

You let go of the annoyance you felt at someone using that Jutsu and refocused, looking until your gaze found the boy from earlier whose red eyes you woke to. What you saw made you let out a small gasp. “… Izuna…? Is that you, Izuna?” You took a small step further, your brows furrowing, before you paused. “No, your Chakra is different. But there’s no denying, you look just like him.” You spoke with a small smile on your face, stepping a little closer. You knew it was mostly impossible to see Izuna in the world of the living again but this boy’s face gave you a large burst of optimism.

“Just as smart as I’ve read you to be, the great Uchiha Y/N. You’ve already read everyone’s Chakra signatures beforehand to be prepared in case of battle. What a brilliantly tactical move, as expected from your caliber.” You looked back towards the pale man with the long black hair, your anger growing again before you narrowed your eyes at the younger Senju brother.

“Tobirama,” your voice was calm but extremely firm, “I thought I told you never to use this Jutsu. I also recall telling you that this should never be documented. For this exact reason,” you emphasized. You created the Reanimation Jutsu. It was something you made in a dark time of your life that still hurt you to think about.

It was lovely in your ancestral Uchiha home, passed down from your family for as long as they could remember. It was the same house you lived in with your husband. You enjoyed the happiness that you felt every day, until it felt like it just started to go down from there. Your clan always at war with the Senju clan, the death of your brother-in-law that started your husband’s spiral, your husband’s defection from the village, and ultimately, his death. It broke you in more ways than you could explain.

When the Senju brothers came to your home to tell you of your husband’s death, you almost collapsed on the spot in grief and rage. The younger brother starts your husband’s path of revenge by killing your brother-in-law, and the older brother ends it along with your beloved husband’s life. They had officially taken everything from you.

It took a lot of time, and a lot of understanding, but you learned not to blame the Senju brothers for what had happened to Izuna and Madara. It hurt you every single day, but you just learned to live with it, burying yourself in your work and missions to compensate. It was on one of these days where you were working on a new Jutsu that you invented when Tobirama offered to join and help if you taught it to him. You allowed him as he did not ask you any questions, simply offering his presence in your mourning, never questioning your judgement or your decisions.

When you believed the Jutsu to be complete, you could tell immediately that it was not something that should be used. It was cruel in nature and you ultimately felt that it went against your morals and also the way of an honorable Kunoichi. It was a Jutsu that would not let the dead lay in final rest, instead waking them up in a cold and shrewd manner, letting the caster control the freedom of those that have crossed over to another world. It was unnatural, wrong.

You were desperate to bring back your husband, and you were willing to try anything. But this, you remember thinking as you saw your Jutsu at work, this is not how I want him back. And so, you made Tobirama swear to never record it and let this die with the both of you. Nobody needed to know that something like this was ever possible in this world. Clearly, he didn’t listen.

“I told you that that was a bad idea, Tobirama. Although, it is very good to see you, Y/N.” Hashirama let out a laugh as he patted your shoulder, letting Tobirama continue to sulk behind him as he tried to duck away from your glare, - just as intimidating as the rest of your clan, Tobirama rubbed at his neck.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t write down all of it, I made sure I kept it recorded as an incomplete Jutsu just for good measure. I completely removed a few of the sections that took me weeks to figure out. With what was left in the scrolls, nobody should’ve been able to correctly perform it.” Tobirama tried to alleviate his mistake but the pale one spoke again, drawing your eyes to him.

“It was not a hard Jutsu to make sense of, Lord Second.” He smiled in a way that put you on edge, like he was someone to always be wary of. You let it go for now, knowing you couldn’t do anything about it at this moment, and instead embraced Hashirama.

“No point dwelling on it now. It is good to see you, old friend. You as well, Tobirama,” you called out to the younger Senju who gave you a small smile. “Hiruzen, you’ve aged,” you jested as the man you knew to be the admirable Third Hokage let out a laugh.

“And you are just as beautiful as ever, Lady Y/N.” You gave him a gentle smile before turning to regard the man with the blonde hair and the blue eyes. He was new, a man you did not recognize, and yet you could see the trustworthiness in his eyes. He was a good man, you could tell. Not an ounce of malevolence in his Chakra at all.

“I apologize, but I do not recognize you.” You gave him the room to introduce himself.

“Ah!” The man exclaimed before turning around and pointing to the letters on his coat, “I am the Fourth Hokage, Lady Y/N. My name is Namikaze Minato, an honor to meet the Queen of the Uchiha clan in person.” He was a gentle soul. You smiled at him, giving him a gentle bow of your head to show you respected him. He seems like he made an honorable Hokage.

“Eh?!” You all turned your head to see a woman with bright red hair looking at you in shock. A woman of the Uzumaki clan, you assumed from her red-hot hair and her large levels of Chakra. “What do you mean the ‘Queen of the Uchiha clan’?!”

“She’s the legendary Kunoichi, Uchiha Y/N! How can you not tell, Karin?” It was another boy with white hair and sharp teeth that spoke. From Kirigakure, you could tell by his unique features.

“Suigestu is correct, Karin. And another very important fact: She is Uchiha Madara’s wife. Hence the title of Queen.” The Uchiha boy spoke.

“Wait, if you’re the Fourth,” Hashirama started, “then who’s the Fifth Hokage?”

“It’s your granddaughter, Princess Tsunade,” the pale one replied, making you huff out a laugh as Hashirama started sweating. You had good memories of that sweet girl. She was still extremely young at the time of yours and Tobirama’s passing, - far too young to probably have any recollection of you. However, you still appreciated the Senju brothers for treating you like family, and you’ve never forgotten the first moment you held Tsunade as Hashirama asked you to be her godmother. It was a title you took great pride in.

“Tsuna, huh?” Hashirama looked at you sheepishly as you chuckled. “She was my first grandchild, and she was Y/N’s goddaughter. So we both spoiled her rotten. She even picked up my gambling habit, hahahahaha!” You and Tobirama shook your head at the older Senju.

“Alright,” you called out, “enough for now. I have only two things to ask of you.” You took another step forward before pointing to the Uchiha in front of you. “Firstly, who is this boy?” You then dropped your hand back down before addressing everyone. “And secondly, why have you resurrected us?”

“I am Orochimaru, I am the one who resurrected all of you. This boy,” the pale one spoke as he referred to the Uchiha in front of you, “is Uchiha Sasuke. And he has a few questions for all of you.”

“Is that you, Sasuke?” Hiruzen took a step forward. So he’s from Hiruzen’s time, you figured it was during his second time as Hokage as he had quickly filled you in. He seemed extremely young, this Sasuke. You didn’t dwell on it too long when the boy started to ask you and the others questions about being a Shinobi, about being a part of a clan, a part of a village.

You narrowed your eyes at him. He’s seen a lot, and he’s been troubled by a lot. It’s obvious in not only the exhaustion in his eyes but also in the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan you see glowing, - this boy has suffered his whole life. You knew he wanted answers from not just the Hokages but also from you, because as he spoke he maintained clear eye contact with you the entire time. His gaze pleaded for reason, something to hear that would just make sense. For now though, you would let the past leaders of Konoha speak their pieces, - nobody can doubt their experience in these matters.

“Can we please hurry this up? The Fourth Shinobi War is going on and we do not have a lot of time. The sooner you answer Sasuke’s questions the sooner we can be on the move,” Orochimaru stepped up, making Tobirama lose his calm. As quick as always to anger…

“Why are we here answering meaningless questions when we are needed on the battlefield?!” He always needed Hashirama to keep him in check. And he still does, you mused as you watched him finally step away from the wall after a word from his older brother.

“Always conflict no matter what the era,” Hashirama sighed as you gave him an understanding smile. You gave a look back to the group.

“Which nations are fighting this war?” Everyone knew that you and Tobirama perished in the First Shinobi War, and while you were still reeling from the fact that three more happened after it, you also wanted to know the seriousness of it as well as its threat to the Land of Fire and Konohagakure.

“Actually, Lady Y/N…” Orochimaru seemed to hesitate, and he absolutely refused to look you in the eyes. You narrowed your eyes at him before moving them to the young Uchiha who held your gaze instead of cowering.

“Sasuke, tell me what is going on. Now,” you demanded. Sasuke let out a sigh before staring at you for a moment. He spoke calmly, but the news that he delivered was enough to make anyone cower in fear. Not you, though.

“Uchiha Madara,” Sasuke started, “has been revived by the Reanimation Jutsu, and he is currently trying to place the entire world under a Genjutsu of unimaginable magnitude.”

“Why?” Your question was a simple one. “Why is he trying to do this?”

“Uchiha Madara did not, in fact, die during his battle with Lord First.” Orochimaru spoke again. “Instead, he was seriously injured, and lived till the end of his days in hiding. He has had years to plan this battle.”

You looked at him in shock. All this time, he had been alive? Living in hiding? He was alone all this time. You looked down in sadness. We were supposed to grow old and grey together, and yet I die soon and he spends all his years by himself. All your time alive you were grieving what you thought to be the loss of your husband, lashing out and destroying, when instead you could have spent your time with him had you known.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, it was Hiruzen, a man who knew how your mind worked. “There was no way you could have known, my Lady.”

“He has waged a war against all five of the nations. They have come together to form the Shinobi Alliance and now try to fight together against Madara as we speak. He does all of this, for you, my Lady.” You looked at Orochimaru again before looking to Sasuke as if asking if it was true. Sasuke gave you a nod.

“Madara says that he wants to end all wars and all bloodshed. He calls his Genjutsu the Infinite Tsukuyomi, - to put the entire world in a permanent dream state. He is a man that grows angrier and more desperate. He misses you,” Orochimaru said. “And he’s willing to destroy the world for it.”

“His rage is from Y/N’s death in the First Shinobi War,” Hashirama figured out. “Since then, there have been two more that he has observed and so, this fourth one will be Madara’s supposed war to end all wars.”

“The Infinite Tsukuyomi is Madara’s plan to create a world of his own with only love and peace and happiness, as he explained it. He feels rage at the thought of a war being the reason that he lost his brother and then his wife. He believes he can create a better world this way, where everybody can have their own world within consisting of what makes them happiest.” Orochimaru’s explanation was brief and to the point. “His turning point was hearing of your death while he was in hiding, my Lady.”

You put a hand on each of the Senju brothers’ shoulders as you looked back at the boy you’ve come to know as Sasuke. “Alright, let’s tell him what he wants to know. I believe the sooner we explain, the sooner we can help in the frontlines,” you urged the Hokages to sit down beside you. “And the sooner I can see my husband,” you finished off with a smile, making everyone give you an exhausted look. You and Madara were always a love-sick couple, known by those who lived in your time and those who read about you in scrolls and records.

“Alright, we understand what it is you ask us of, young one.” Hashirama always made people feel open to speak their mind. “You want to know about what it means to be a Shinobi? A part of a clan? A part of a village? We’ll tell you.”

You listened quietly as Hiruzen and the two Senjus explained the village’s history to Sasuke, and you watched the changes in Sasuke’s expressions. It also gave you a chance to listen to what has happened since your own passing as well. The stories you heard made you sad. Uchiha Itachi, the man who sacrificed his family and his life for Konohagakure. For Konohagakure and for his little brother. An admirable Shinobi, you agreed. As was the Fourth Hokage and his own wife, giving their lives for the village.

It hurt to know that the boy you saw in front of you was the last of your clan, - an entire bloodline just wiped out. But you respected Itachi for doing the work nobody else was willing to do. He took the fall for the Elders of the village that were too cowardly to even admit to their own actions and decisions. In a way, Itachi reminded you of Madara, willing to sacrifice for his younger brother. Always protecting him, making sure he was safe within the village, helping him grow stronger, trying to lead him on the right path.

You continued to simply listen as Hashirama and Tobirama told Sasuke of the history between the Uchiha and the Senju. He spoke of your husband with the same fondness in his heart that he held for him all those years ago. But when the Hokages were finished, Sasuke sat in silence. He then slowly stood, letting out a sigh before looking at you.

“And what of you, Lady Y/N? You are the only one who has not yet spoken a word to me. I want to hear your opinion.” Sasuke spoke plainly.

“I have seen you listen intently to the opinions of honorable Hokages through the generations.” You spoke as you also started to stand, “What would you do with mine? I was a Kunoichi of Konoha, and I was a wife to a loving man,” you stated with pride making the two you now knew by the names of Karin and Suigetsu in the back of the room look at you with shock. “My experiences are limited to my life, not to the ones of others. I do not see what you would benefit from hearing my thoughts in this situation.”

“You are an Uchiha from legend, from stories that I would hear from my brother very often. You understand love, happiness, the feeling of contentment. You understand desperation, anger, grief, the loss of a loved one. You must have felt pain like mine when you heard of your husband’s death, especially when it came at the hands of Lord First. I want to know what made you stay. Like my brother, you’ve given for the village in blood, and yet you stayed loyal to the very same village until your dying breath. You are drastically stronger than me. You could beat me even without using either of your hands, which means you had the ability to bring the village down if you really wanted to, but you didn’t do it.” You looked at him with a gentle smile before walking up to him and placing a hand on his cheek. He simply stayed staring into your eyes, now black as his without the Sharingan.

“My husband is angry, - broken, hurt. He has lost much in his life. This village has brought me happiness. Hashirama and Tobirama are people I consider my closest friends, and Sarutobi was a brilliant student. All of these make up a village and a Shinobi. Love, bonds, sacrifice, dedication. My husband felt all of these up until he felt like he was cast away by them.” You gently spoke. “I felt the support of my bonds when I was at my lowest, grieving and in rage at Madara being gone.” You turned to look at your friends. “Hashirama and Tobirama may have fought against my husband, but they stood by me when I was alone. I have fought for this village and given it everything that I have. I am nothing without it. But even if I could go back, I would not change that. I found the love of my life in Konoha, and I was able to marry him and lead a happy life until his death. Or rather, what I thought to be his death. I also remember thinking about how I was protecting him with every mission I would take on, no matter how little. Madara has always watched over me, always kept me safe, and it made me happy that by keeping Konoha safe, I was keeping my beloved safe as well, whether or not he ever really needed my protection,” you finished off with a nostalgic laugh.

Sasuke stared at you for a few moments, before suddenly, for the first time since seeing him a couple of hours ago, you saw him give you a small smile. It was heartwarming to see, especially when he looked like the kind of person who rarely smiles. It showed you he understood your words. He could relate. He understood keeping someone’s legacy alive in your heart. He could see it. You knew he could.

“I won’t let what Itachi stood for go to waste. I won’t let Konoha waste away. We’re going to the battlefield.” Sasuke’s eyes shone with determination. A determined and motivated Uchiha is as dangerous to his opponent as he is unstoppable, you knew, and you were proud of this young boy who has learned to work through his conflicts. Your clan was known for burying their emotions deep down as an act of what they thought to be concealing their weaknesses. However in reality, they only make themselves weaker, instead. They forget that their Sharingans are a window into their heart. It reflects the soul and that is how it is not only awakened, but also grown into higher levels, - even the Eternal Mangekyou. They forget what their eyes represent once they awaken their full potential.

“Now we’re talking!” Hashirama was excited. And as you all jumped through the air, you heard him again. “It may sound odd, but I am excited to see my old friend!” Tobirama sighed at his older brothers words while you smiled back at him.

“I understand. It has been decades since I’ve seen my love. I miss him,” you said with a fond smile while the one you’ve come to know as Suigetsu looked at you like you were crazy.

“Forgive me, Lady Y/N, but you talk about him like you guys are love-sick puppies at the Ninja Academy!” Suigetsu let out a breath in absolute disbelief while Tobirama chuckled.

“Madara may be dangerous, and he may be frightening to most. However, seeing him interact with Y/N puts him in a rare perspective that not many have witnessed first hand. This is something even I cannot deny.” Suigetsu shook his head at the Second Hokage’s words and decided that he wouldn’t get it, ever.

Meanwhile, Naruto was letting Sakura heal him when he saw two people land right in front of him. He let out a gasp as he saw his father and a woman. He couldn’t help but stare at her. She was gorgeous, - black hair, black eyes, dressed like a true warrior, proudly wearing the Uchiha symbol- wait what?

He stared in shock as she shared a laugh with his father. “Not bad, Lord Fourth, but I think I beat you by just that little second!” And he couldn’t believe his eyes at his father poking fun back at her.

“Ah, I must be getting old, my Lady.” What?! ‘My Lady?!’ Naruto stayed looking back and forth at the two interacting until his father turned around to regard him. “Naruto! Hope we’re not too late!”

“Nevermind that, Dad! Who is this? Why is she wearing the Uchiha symbol? Is there another Uchiha person alive?! Again?! Why’re you being so formal with her!?!” Naruto’s mind was going faster than his mouth could keep up and it took Sakura giving him a solid knock on the head to make him stop.

“Geez, Naruto! That’s Uchiha Y/N,” she explained as she continued healing him. “She’s known as the Queen of the Uchiha clan, she’s from way before your dad was Hokage. She’s Uchiha Madara’s wife!” That made Naruto freak out again. Why was Sakura so calm about this? Wasn’t Madara’s wife a bad factor to add to this war? Madara was bad enough as it is, and he didn’t want to know what fighting the woman called the Queen of the Uchiha clan would also entail.

“This is why you pay attention during Iruka Sensei’s lectures,” Sakura sighed out before explaining yours and Madara’s past to Naruto as quickly as she could.

As Naruto listened to the end of Sakura’s explanation, he saw the Third Hokage land carefully on his feet. “You’re both as fast as ever, Minato, Lady Y/N.” He then saw who he knew to be the Senju brothers Hashirama and Tobirama also land.

“We never could beat you, Y/N!” Hashirama laughed out as he stood next to his younger brother. Naruto then froze as Y/N turned to regard him, giving him one of the kindest smiles he’s ever seen directed at him in his life, and he knew that that kind of genuineness cannot be faked. You were trustworthy.

“Don’t worry,” you spoke, “your friend is also on his way.” And Naruto closed his eyes. Sasuke. He must have something to do with your reanimation, he knew.

“Hey, um, big sister Y/N?” Naruto called out, making you look at him in shock, a familiar warmth curling into your chest. Nobody had called you that since Izuna, and it brought an involuntary smile to your lips. You gave a nod to encourage him to continue. “Not that I’m doubting you or anything, big sister, but uh, how exactly do you plan on stopping your extremely crazy and concerningly bloodthirsty husband?” You let out a loud laugh at his words while his father panicked at the way he was addressing Madara in front of you. This kid has no filter - doesn’t even know what a filter is - , and you absolutely loved it. He spoke to you as honestly as if you were really his big sister and it made you adore him. If this was Sasuke’s closest friend, then he has chosen well, they are both perfectly balanced halves, like Yin and Yang.

“You have a lovely son, Lord Fourth.” You told a worried Minato before turning back to the blond kid in front of you. “And Naruto, your father told me you wanted to become Hokage. I think- No, I know you will succeed. You have good friends,” you said as you looked around, “and you have a good heart. Not even the sky is your limit, Ninja of Konoha.”

You can tell this kid wears his heart on his sleeve, and so you could have anticipated the hug. What you couldn’t have anticipated was for him to run forward and squeeze whatever temporary life was flowing through you out of your lungs in his hug. Now this was one life-changing hug.

“What on earth did I miss?” You turned to see Sasuke staring at you in amazement. It seems you were a bit of a crowd favourite already, - all of his past comrades from Konoha were gathered around you, looking at you in awe or wonder, sometimes both. He assumes someone, most probably Sakura, must have explained your past and your goals. The initial reaction to hearing your lengthy title and name is always fear, until they have a conversation with you.

“Sasuke!” Sakura shouting out his name had you a little surprised, but as you watched their exchange you could see that the Kunoichi was enamored with him. You left Sasuke and Naruto to their conversation with their friends while you walked over to your own, quickly gauging the battlefield and all of the warriors, - it was an absolute mess. A man by the name of Hatake Kakashi was quick to bring you and the Hokages up to speed on everything that’s happened, including the involvement of another Uchiha by the name of Obito, Lord Fourth’s student.

“As far as I know, however, Obito’s actions are influenced by Madara,” Kakashi explained as he recalled to you and the others what Obito had told him of his survival in a past accident.

“I’m going to go towards the back, I want a larger view of this mess. Just give me a few moments,” you said as you jumped away. Hashirama gave you a quick thumbs up to acknowledge your words as they continued to listen to Kakashi’s information, - the Senju brothers have seen you do this often.

You could see well from your initial spot, but the terrain was uneven and you always worked better once you got a full view of your surroundings with your Sharingan. It gave you better mobility and helped you avoid any hesitation during combat. If you always knew where to step and what direction to move in, you didn’t even have to take your eyes off of the enemy.

This was actually a tactic that you also showed your husband during one of your sparring sessions together. You both would always choose new locations and alternate in memorizing the location. If it was Madara’s turn, you wouldn’t memorize that day’s terrain choice, and vice versa. This helped you both see the difference in combat efficiency. Perhaps that has been far too effective against the Shinobi Alliance, you thought sheepishly as you recalled Kakashi’s words of always seeing Madara have the higher ground in confrontations, looking down on everyone.

As you were letting your eyes memorize the terrain, your heart stopped at a yell you heard. It’s been decades since you’ve heard that voice. And to hear it again in person instead of in your dreams was a breathtaking feeling that you simply could not define, even if it wasn’t directed at you, specifically.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Hashirama!” He called out, and you heard the excitement in his voice. It brought a smile to your face, - those two were always inseparable, it’s nice to see even that cannot change.

Meanwhile, Hashirama looked up to see Madara staring down at him with anticipation. He let out a sigh, is this the time she chooses to disappear? Tobirama, as if reading his brother’s mind, also sighed out. Your timing is impeccable, Y/N.

Where is that woman when you need her? The Senju brothers were really trying to avoid a full out battle with Madara at this point when it was so unnecessary.

Hashirama pointed his finger at Madara as he called out, “I’ll deal with you later!” And the older Senju brother watched as Madara visibly deflated a little in disappointment before patiently sitting down, shaking his head as he did. Some things never change. Hashirama then turned around, pointing his finger at the Ten-Tailed Beast, “First, I have to stop the Ten-Tails, because it’s charging right at us!”

“Where the hell did big sister go?!” Naruto was absolutely stressed knowing the one person who could help stop this now was not here for some godforsaken reason. “She’s the only person who’s going to have any actual effect on Uchiha Madara and she’s just gone?!”

“Stay calm, Naruto,” Minato spoke calmly, “we just have to keep the Ten-Tails occupied. Once she returns we’ll have the extra power and also the weapon to reason with Madara.” He then turned and gave a smile to his son and his son’s friends. “Don’t worry. If she is anything like what I’ve read about her, then Uchiha Madara will listen. So far, she has more than proven herself, and I have faith that she can help. I have also heard from the First and Second Hokages that she is the only human whose opinion and emotions Madara genuinely values.”

“Now, everyone!” Tobirama spoke, “Just hold off until she returns! Keep the Ten-Tails at bay, and do not risk yourself in attempting to counter any of its moves. We simply hold it off for as long as needed!”

Sasuke and Naruto were already off atop their summonings as Sakura stayed behind with her own summoning to heal those that were injured in the area. The rest of their comrades also dispersed to help contain the situation while Madara simply sat atop the cliff, observing their movements. He didn’t bother listening to whatever they discussed, dismissing it as futile attempts to strategize. Naturally, it would fail against me, Madara scoffed out a quiet laugh.

Hashirama thought this would be a good time for him and his fellow Hokages to go and have some semblance of a civil conversation with his old friend while they kept the situation at bay. “Madara!” He called out as him and his comrades landed on the cliff top behind the seated Uchiha.

“Oh? Ready to face me now, Hashirama?” Madara could feel his blood pumping. He’s been dying for a rematch with the Senju man.

“Actually, I wanted to talk. My friend, there is nothing to gain from this.” Hashirama hoped he’d see reason.

“There is everything to gain from this.” Madara countered his friend easily. “In the Infinite Tsukuyomi, there will be happiness. There will be peace. Everyone can love and be loved. How is this reality better than what I am offering?” Madara’s mind was clear.

“It would all still be a fake reality, Madara. None of your experiences would be real. The peace wouldn’t be real. The love wouldn’t be genuine. The happiness? It would be fake!” Hashirama wanted to get through somehow.

Madara was getting frustrated. “At least there would be happiness! At least there would be something worth living for within the Tsukuyomi.”

“There are reasons worth living for in the real world. You fight for them, and you hold on to it. That’s what makes it worth the suffering. There is happiness and love awaiting everyone in this world, Madara, and I thought you would understand that better than anyone else! Everyone that has walked this earth was given something worth living for, and it kept them going till the end of their days. Everyone deserves to experience the real world as it is with all of its ups and downs. That’s what makes it genuine. That’s what gives life value.” Hashirama hoped his friend would understand.

“I had a reason. I had love, happiness. I had it…” Madara looked down for a moment before looking back up again, eyes full of red-hot rage. “And she was taken from me!” He began shouting. “You took her from me! All of you!” He pointed at them, “You took my one happiness and my one love! First, I was separated from her and then you made sure she wasn’t even in the same plane of existence as me! She died fighting for these real experiences of yours. Anything in this world, including these values you preach about, Hashirama, are absolutely worthless without her. She was my only reason. The only one!” The Uchiha took a deep breath, “I refuse to live in any world or any reality without my wife, never again. And any world that has hurt my wife should simply not exist.” He activated his Susano’o, getting ready to fight, - he wouldn’t hear another word of this. He would not listen to another word defending this monstrosity of a world that took his beloved wife from him. His soulmate.

“Are you happy, elder brother?” Tobirama took a few steps back, “Now you’ve made him angry. The whole point of this was to stall him!”

“I know, Tobirama!” Hashirama let out a quiet curse as he prepared his hands for a countering Jutsu.

“Clearly you don’t know. He doesn’t seem to be very stalled from your tactics, elder brother!” Tobirama couldn’t stop the sarcasm that came flying out of his mouth in his current stress.

“Tobirama, now is absolutely not the time for this!” Hashirama backed away some more as Madara’s Susano’o pulled its sword out of the sheath and got into an offensive stance.

They didn’t think a conversation about love and happiness could go so bad so quickly. But then again, they should have anticipated it considering who it was they were having this conversation with.

Nobody loves as intensely as an Uchiha, Hashirama remembered saying to Sasuke. And no Uchiha has loved or will love as intensely as Uchiha Madara loves his wife. He’ll burn the world and bring her the ashes.

The Hokages braced themselves as Madara’s Susano’o charged forward, sword raised and about to come down for the strike, when suddenly, their surroundings went deathly quiet.

The Hokages breathed out a sigh of quick relief. Tobirama huffed, “By the Gods, Y/N! You couldn’t have cut it any closer if you tried!”

You don’t spare a glance back at the Hokages, though, simply keeping your eyes in front of you. You couldn’t help the smile building on your lips as you saw your husband. He was just as handsome as the last day you saw him, - with his Sharingan and his long hair and his eyes full of love for you. He always managed to make you feel loved. He was doing all of this, for you. Of course, it was questionable, but he was doing it for you. “My love,” you started, hearing yourself choking up. You couldn’t finish your sentence as you saw the shock finally leave your husband.

Madara couldn’t believe his eyes. His wife was here, in front of him, reanimated. He never thought he would see her again, and if he was ever reunited with her in the afterlife, it’s not like they would have any recollection of that in the present living moment, either. And so to see her now, he could do nothing but thank every entity he could think of that she created this Jutsu, regardless of the circumstances in which she did. He was not by her side in her dying breath and she wasn’t there with him as he grew old and frail, - the biggest regrets that Madara can think of from his time alive. “Y/N.” He released his Susano’o, taking long strides towards his wife.

You simply stood in place, still taking him in. You watched his large frame as he walked towards you, and you felt your breath leave you at the intensity with which he grabbed you. He held you close, a hand around your shoulders and another over the back of your head, as if trying to make sure you couldn’t go anywhere. You reached and wrapped arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest and letting a sob finally wrack through your body, finally feeling safe and like you belonged. You finally felt like you could let go and the one person your trusted would be there to catch you, - the only person you’ve ever trusted with your soul, and the only person you will ever trust.

“Y/N,” you closed your eyes as you heard your name fall from his lips, “my Y/N.” His words felt like velvet on your skin and like a melody through your ears.

“Madara,” you breathed out, making the Uchiha man let out a hum. He had been aching to hear your voice for decades. It had been so long since he’d heard you call out his name and to hear it again made him want to break down right there. “You left me,” he heard you whisper. You sounded so upset, and he felt his heart ache and fall apart all over again. Such simple words, but so strong in their meaning. “You left me alone.”

“My darling wife,” he gripped you tighter. “I am so, so sorry. I have no excuse for my actions. I was blind and a fool to have ever thought to leave you, because that is all one must be to ever think to let go of you,” he stated honestly. These were words from his core, ones he has never spoken aloud until now but has always had running in his head. He meant every bit of it. “I was… blinded. Blinded by the hate I felt, the need to avenge Izuna… All of it came to head at some point that I struggle to even remember now. And when I heard of your death, I lost all reason. All I could think of was the ways in which I could’ve kept you safe. I thought the only way to do so now would be to create a new world. A world in which we could be together again, a world in which you couldn’t get hurt. And you would never be hurt because this world would be ours to command as we so wished.” You sighed out gently before pulling away to cup his face in your hands. You gave your husband a smile, leaning to kiss his lips for a moment before resting your forehead against his.

“You never let your soul rest, even in death.” You sighed and you pressed your lips to his cheek. “My husband, my love.” You heard him hum gently. “All I ever needed was you. I don’t need the world because that is what you are to me. You are my world- No, my universe.”

Madara pulled away to look into your eyes, and you saw a vulnerable man right then, - the same one that had always bore his emotions freely to you and only you. He always let you see into his heart. And now, you saw a man who had mourned for his wife for decades. “You never did find peace, even in death. And it was my fault. If it weren’t for that, we could’ve been together all this time. I’m so sorry,” you said softly as you planted another kiss on his lips, “I’m so sorry for causing you so much pain,” you continued apologizing as Madara shook his head at you, a tear of his own falling.

“No,” he stopped you, grabbing your head with both hands to place a kiss on your forehead. “Never tell me it is your fault. I will not accept it. I chose this path, Y/N. I chose to stay in this world. I was blinded by rage and did not see what could have been - you and me, finally together, in eternity. Without restraints.” He held you close again, wrapping his arms around you as he tight as he could, and you did the same.

Naruto watched from a little further away, jaw on the floor, - not too different from the rest of the Shinobi that were present. He turned to Sasuke who was also unable to look away from the scene that seemed to come straight from a fever dream.

“Oi, Sasuke,” he nudged his friend, “Is this all we needed to do? We assembled the entire Shinobi world, formed an alliance, and suffered an unimaginable amount of casualties. All we needed to do,” he paused again, “this whole time, was get her?!” Sasuke’s eyes flashed at his extremely oblivious and extremely loud friend at both the noise level of his sentence and his way of addressing the Queen of the Uchiha clan. He tried to get him to stop when he saw Madara’s head whip around to regard the person who had addressed his wife so brazenly. Too late, Sasuke clenched his jaw.

It took Sasuke every bit of Chakra, - and the full extent of his Sharingan’s abilities, - to move as fast as he did in that moment, stepping in front of Naruto and summoning an arm of his Susano’o to block Madara’s fast approach towards the Uzumaki boy. Naruto let out a small scream as he stumbled back a bit, watching with fear in his eyes as Madara’s raging Sharingan stared into his very soul.

“Idiot,” Sasuke quietly bit out, “is there a single day where you paid attention at the Academy?”

“H-huh?” Naruto turned his head towards Sasuke but his eyes stayed watching the past head of the Uchiha clan that hasn’t backed down just yet. Or gotten far enough away for me to feel comfortable, Naruto thought to himself as he watched warily.

“You will address her, with the amount of respect that she deserves,” Madara ground out. “That woman is Uchiha Y/N. She is Queen of the Uchiha Clan, the Strongest Kunoichi in the Land of Fire, and my wife.”

“He did not know,” Sasuke ground out. The young Uchiha was at his wit’s end. Uchiha Madara was strict when it came to people respecting the Queen of the Uchiha clan. He demanded respect of everyone whether they were directly or indirectly addressing or mentioning her. It irked him that even Tobirama was as casual as he was with her. As far as Madara was concerned, the only person who could address Uchiha Y/N lovingly and without titles was him. “Everyone else would slander her name for they do not understand her worth,” Madara had once said. “They do not see the diamond that she is and I will make sure that they at least recognize that she is a treasure.”

“Madara,” you chastised as you walked towards him. “He’s a sweet boy, he means no harm. He doesn’t need to call me by my title because of who I once was. There are only two titles that have come with me past my life - Kunoichi of Konohagakure, and wife to an honorable man. That is all. Just a Kunoichi, and just a wife.” You spoke as wrapped your arms around his waist and placed your head on his chest. You felt your husband wrap his arms around you again and felt as he began to slowly relax. “There will be those stronger than me.”

“Not in my heart. I know you are the strongest there will ever be.” You let out a little laugh as you heard the stubbornness in your husband’s voice.

“I adore you,” you spoke to him with a smile, “But I am not too upset by what future awaits our clan.” You placed a hand on his cheek before turning to look at Sasuke. “He is a strong boy, with an honorable heart. Named after Hiruzen’s father. And while I believe you to always be the head of the clan in my heart,” you heard your husband let out a light laugh, “Sasuke will be a good leader.” The young boy gently bowed his head at you. “And I believe it will not be long before there are new heirs to the Uchiha clan, and the bloodline is restored,” you spoke with a grin.

Sasuke’s eyes slightly widened at you, before he quickly turned his head away and to the side. “Hn.” The noise he made caused you to let out a small laugh. A typical response from an Uchiha in a moment of speechlessness. And no matter how hard he tried, Sasuke would never be able to hide the pink in his cheeks from you.

“The clan is in capable hands,” you spoke as you turned and found Tsunade standing next to her grandfather and great uncle, “and so is the village, it seems.” Tsunade smiled at you, and you saw vague recognition in her eyes.

“I don’t remember you well, but I grew up hearing stories of you and how you were always by my side while you were alive. I’m proud to have such an amazing Kunoichi as my godmother.” You smiled at her and laid your head on your husband’s chest, feeling him bring a hand up to hold the back of your neck.

“Indeed, I must admit that the village is in respectable hands. She is… a strong woman.” Tsunade seemed shocked to hear words of praise coming from Madara’s mouth, but she was happy to hear it, regardless. She has certainly inherited Hashirama’s Will of Fire, Madara has only seen it so strong in his wife’s eyes until now. And she probably did inherit it from her godmother, Madara’s pride would not allow him to give Hashirama credit for something over his beloved.

You turned back to your husband, taking in a deep breath. “Well, my love? Shall we?” You saw Madara let out a long sigh before tightening his arms around you.

“Perhaps we are done here. I trust you lot can handle Obito?” Hatake Kakashi and his team nodded at Madara’s question. “Good,” your husband hummed. “I think I have some catching up to do with my wife. So much time lost… ” He ran a hand across your cheek.

You smiled, “Luckily, we have eternity to make it up.” You reached up and he met you halfway as he bent his neck, both of you joining your lips together in a kiss. The Senju brothers looked over at Orochimaru and gave him a nod to go ahead with releasing the Reanimation, and he did so quietly.

You could vaguely hear Naruto saying goodbye to his father. You could also make out the voices of the other Hokages talking to their own loved ones, giving them parting words of advice, confidence, pride, and love, - all of which you let fade into the background, focusing solely on your husband in front of you. You had him now, and you absolutely will not let go. You pressed your lips harder against his and felt as he let out a small moan, gripping you tighter to him. You would make sure that this next time you woke again in the after-life, he would be right beside you. You both can finally move on, together and in peace, having nothing to concern yourself with except each other. No war, no conflict, no clans, no rivalry, just a husband and wife finally being able to reach paradise together.

“Together, this time,” you spoke against his lips, feeling your body starting to fade.

“Together,” Madara whispered back to you.

And when you both opened your eyes again in the afterlife, you were still holding on to each other. Nothing would separate you two anymore, you wouldn’t let the forces of the universe get between the two of you anymore. Never again…

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Hello and welcome to my blog, everyone! I’m so excited to finally get this first post out. I can’t wait to get more stories out, and I hope you guys enjoy this and any more that’ll come in the future! Thank you guys for reading all of it!

Any similarities to any other posts are purely coincidental and not intentional. Thank you all so very much~

[fastandcarlos]

Rest Baby : ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo

summary: when he wakes up to find you not by his side, daniel's heart his broken when he hears how his baby has been awake all night long

Glancing at Daniel fast asleep beside you only made you feel worse as your body jolted you awake once again. The hours were running away from you, and yet still you found yourself lying wide awake, with sleep evading you.

Each time you closed your eyes, your mind switched straight back on again seeming to overthink everything at the most inopportune times to keep you awake.

You were used to erratic nights, but tonight seemed to outlast the lot. You were on the verge of tears, desperate for sleep, but your mind had decided that it had other ideas as to how you’d spend your night.

Lying awake once again, frustration crept up on you. It only seemed like a matter of time before you disturbed Daniel beside you, opting in the end to slide yourself out from the bed. You were as silent as you could be, footsteps small and slow to make sure you didn’t wake the figure beside you. His light snores told you everything you needed to know, envious of how well he was resting next to you.

With a weak smile on your face, you left Daniel to catch up on his sleep, opening the door to your bedroom and stepping out of the room. You hated leaving Daniel, having him beside you was a great comfort in the night, but you couldn’t risk waking him.

Your footsteps were quiet as you headed downstairs, immediately taking a seat beside the window of your living room which overlooked your garden.

The fields felt as if they were never-ending that backed onto your house, in the daylight the views were breath-taking, and at night, as you were right now, you loved trying to remember where everything was in the pitch black.

It was by far your favourite part of your home, a place where you and Daniel loved to spend a lot of your time. You’d sit for hours, especially when he just came home and catch up on all of the things that you’d missed. Usually you sat with a big smile on your face, listening to all of Daniel’s funny stories, but now you sat there for another reason, purely out of exhaustion.

You hoped that lazily sitting, focusing your mind on the outside would be enough to help you fall asleep. You busied yourself for a few minutes, listening out intently out of fear that Daniel would end up waking up and wondering where you were.

After a few minutes you picked up your phone from beside you, cringing as you saw what time it was. You threw your head back as you let go of a groan, silently praying that someone would listen and help you finally rest.

As usual, you soon found yourself in a loophole of scrolling, catching up with what you had missed during your time battling with sleep. Time seemed to fly by as you scrolled and scrolled, hardly paying attention to what you were watching as you felt your eyes begin to get heavy. You were just about to place your phone down when a familiar voice called out from behind you.

“Babe,” Daniel sleepily spoke, rubbing against his eyes. He was just as quiet as you were as he walked down the stairs, taking a seat beside you, his hand resting against the top of your leg, squeezing it gently.

“Sorry,” you hummed, accepting Daniel’s invite to cuddle into his side. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No, I just turned over and suddenly you weren’t there, I was worried that something had happened to you.”

“I’m all good…just tired.”

"I’m sorry,” he whispered in reply, offering you a sympathetic smile. “One of those nights?” He then asked, knowing exactly how the nights could treat you sometimes. He squeezed against your frame as you nuzzled into him, feeling his fingertips run gently against your arm.

“I’m so tired love, it’s just not fair.”

“Is there anything I can do?” He curiously questioned.

“I don’t know, nothing seems to be working tonight,” you sighed, placing your hand against his chest. “I think I’m destined to just stay awake for the whole night.”

“You can’t do that,” Daniel sighed, knowing just how important sleep was.

“Just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be,” you whispered, suddenly remembering the time and the busy schedule that Daniel had ahead of him.

His eyes rolled as you spoke, “you don’t need to worry about me.” “I always worry about you.”

“I know, it’s why you’re so annoying.”

Your hand hit against his chest as Daniel sniggered back at you, relief appearing on his face as he saw a small glimmer of a smile on your face again.

“I’ve got an idea to help you.”

“What’s that?” You smiled, feeling Daniel tighten his grip around you once again, resting his head against the top of yours as he stretched his legs out in front of you.

“We’ll stay here together until you fall asleep, this is one of your favourite spots to nap after all,” Daniel smiled down at you.

“You’re not going to be comfortable sleeping here, are you insane?”

“I don’t care, as long as it helps you.”

“But I-“ you spoke, only to be cut off.

“Just trust me babe, it’s a great idea,” Daniel insisted, pressing a soft kiss against the side of your head. He refused to let you move, hoping that his hold against your frame would leave you feeling so warm that you’d have no choice but to fall asleep.

As you allowed your eyes to close, your chest soon rose and fell at the same time as Daniel’s, unaware of his eyes fluttering shut above you too. Or so you thought. Daniel tried his best to pretend to sleep, eyes flickering open every so often so that he could check on you, making sure that you were finally getting the rest that you deserved.

Once he was sure that you were asleep, Daniel carefully slid his arms underneath your frame, gently lifting you from the seat and pulling you tightly in against his chest.

He was incredibly cautious as he moved up the stairs, placing you back in the same spot that you had vacated just under an hour earlier. “Sleep well my love,” he mused, tucking you in tightly again underneath the duvet. .

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley/female reader This is the last part before the epilogue

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise honey, remember?” You nod, but your eyes stay glued to the windshield, tracking the raindrops sliding on and off the glass. “Hey,” he reaches for your hand, pulling it into his grasp, “it’s okay. You’re safe.”

“I’m with you.” You repeat the mantra, the one you repeat in the shower, in bed, in the living room. I’m safe. I’m with you. 

He wants to look away from the road so badly long enough to see your eyes, really see them. It’s how he knows where you are, if you’re there, or here, or somewhere else. Just in case, he reminds you. “The kids are with Gaz and Cami. Soap is sleeping in the guest room. They’re all together, and they’re safe.” You nod again, but answer as a robot.

“They’re safe.” He can’t do it. He pulls the car over and you turn in alarm, watching as he steps around to the passenger side door and pulls it wide, dropping to his knee.

“Look at me-“

“You’re getting wet!” You sputter, grabbing at his jacket, but he stills you.

“Look at me, mama.” Your eyes are full of tears, and he cups your cheek. “Where are you?” Your lip wobbles.

“That room.” He pries your fingers open and places your palm over his chest.

“What’s that?”

“Your heart.”

“Your heart, sweet girl. It’s yours. Count them for me.” You shake your head, clenching your eyes shut, and he squeezes your knee. “Deep breath. Count them.”

“O-one, two, thr-we, four…” he does it with you, quietly, supporting, but not coaching. Not leading. You have to do it, you have to bring yourself back. “F-ive… five, six, seven, eight, nine…” each beat steadies your voice until you’re sitting a little straighter, breathing a little deeper.

“There she is. There’s my girl.” He wipes a tear from your cheek, “that’s it.”

“Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen…” you reach twenty five, and then give him a nod. He is thoroughly soaked now, but who cares. It’s not even close to what matters.

“Where are you?” He presses a slow kiss to your forehead.

“I’m here, with you.” You meet his gaze, clear and focused, and he nods.

“Okay.”

“You could have told me.”

“Not as fun, mama, I wanted it to be a surprise.” You’re standing in the middle of the room, looking around, smiling. It’s the same room he brought you to years ago. The room where he put the ring on your finger, the room you told him you’d spend the rest of your life, his life, together. The curtains are the same, the decor, even the bedspread.

“Si,” your voice wavers, and he pulls you into his arms, holding you against his chest.

“Are you happy?”

“Yes.”

You're surprisingly not nervous at all, though he's not that shocked. You have a few tattoos, medium sized, black and grey like his. No sleeves or anything that extensive, but you picked up a small collection during your travels. 

"Wait... are you serious?" You squeak, eyeing the chair and then the guy sitting beside it, Mark, the same guy that's done almost all of Simon's work. Simon's still not sure how he convinced him to come out here and do this, but he suspects the sentimental piece of this occasion had a lot to do with it. "What... what is it?" Simon glances at him, and then nods, holding his breath as he pulls the stencil out of the binder to lay it flat in front of you. 

It's a ring. Black and grey to match your other tattoos, but the same shape, band, everything, as the one you lost. Except- 

The stone frames three constellations. Orion, Phoenix and... "Lyra." You whisper, tracing the line work. You look up at him with tears in your eyes. "Orpheus and Eurydice." 

"Everyone says it's a tragedy, y'know? That he failed. But those people have never felt the way I feel about you." His throat is unbearably tight, and he swallows to keep it together. "They don't know how I'd go to hell to bring you home, they don't know how desperate I'd be to look back and and make sure you're still there with me," he breathes deep through his nose, chasing away the tidal wave rising in his chest. Mark, thankfully, has decided to pretend to be busy with something else. "They don't know how I'd let myself be ripped apart just to see you again. To spend eternity with you." 

"Simon..." 

"You don't have to do it," he rushes out, squeezing your hand, "just say so, and we'll leave. I won't be mad." You reach for him, tugging him close by his wrist and standing up on your tiptoes, trying to bury your face in his neck, seeking you safe space. 

"I love you. I love... I love you." He brushes your tears away. "I want it. Yes, of course. I want it." 

"You sure?" You cast one last look at the drawing, and nod. 

"Eternity with you." He smiles. 

"Eternity." 

[banananutmuffin28]

can I request for Se-mi x fem reader where the reader is one of the pink triangle guards? Where she protects Se-mi and helped her get out of the game by betraying the other guards.

First ever ask!! Ofc ofc :D

Player Se-Mi x FEM! Guard Reader

Warnings: None.

A/N: Well…this became a lot longer than I anticipated! I hope you all enjoy!

Life has always been cruel to you.

And, you supposed you have been cruel back.

Your parents never cared about you, letting you wander the streets alone until you one day got lost.

You still remembered what happened, even though it transpired years ago.

It was dark out, and in the alleyway where you stood, not even the city lights could really dispel the darkness around you. 

Of course, like any child your age you were scared. Your hands had trembled, your lips curled into a sob, hoping that maybe just this once, your parents finally cared enough to rescue you.

But, that never happened, now had it?

You never were a stupid child; you were intimately aware of what horrors could unfold in this world -but you had never really, truly seen it happen firsthand.

Of course, that changed.

There was a clatter of metal against the dirtied cement, a scream, and then before you knew it you were face to face with a sad sod of a man. 

Though you barely remembered his words, you would always recall his hands-large and meaty-sinking deep into your delicate shoulders as he shook you with the desperation only a man in his final seconds of life could conjure. He was begging you to...save him, but from what you still hadn't known.

But before you could move, scream, or do anything of the sort, you heard a bang. Skin and flesh alike flew from his forehead, and his eyes rolled back to his skull as he suddenly slumped before you, coating your body with his blood.

And then, the man's limp body was pulled back, and as you cowered there in the dirt, you finally saw the face of the killer.

As he would later admit, he was just as surprised to see you as you were to see him.

The man readied his gun...but couldn't bring himself to shoot a child.

And so, instead, he gently ushered you to a black van parked by the side of the road, tied a blindfold over your eyes, and took you to the games.

He pleaded and begged the Front Man to let a child stay with him, arguing that you had no one left. And, in a way, you supposed that was true.

Eventually, the Front Man had agreed, and you would spend your formative years living with the man who saved you.

It was...certainly a sight to behold, watching a child roam the halls that, just hours ago, were soaked in blood.

And, when you were of age, you were granted a mask and an outfit. It was a triangle mask, just like the one of the man who saved you. 

In another life, perhaps you would’ve been happy, ridding the world of the trash with you and the man who had saved you.

But again, life struck, and this time it took away him too.

Apparently, he had spared a contestant he was meant to kill.

And, just like that, it was as if your world had crumbled all over again. At first, you were in denial. That man, whom you had grown to love as a father, was a ruthless killer. Surely they had misunderstood the situation? Surely, it was only a matter of time before he would've killed the player?

But, you soon learned that life had no time for your pondering. You would have to move on forward.

Your loss had...changed you. Soon, you would be known as one of the coldest of killers. You would spare no one, and relished in the panicked screams of the players.

After all, these vermin weren't human, right? And, those worms were what took your adoptive father away from you.

Not once did you ever question this sentiment. Sure, sometimes you felt fleeting sympathy, but that had never been enough to stop you from pulling the trigger.

You were a robot. You were ruthless.

But then, you met her.

The first time you two had locked eyes was outside of the games.

You were in a convenience store, buying some snacks and a drink for yourself. Hell, you were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn't even realized it was your turn to pay until she cleared her throat.

"Hey, are you gonna pay or are you content with keeping your head above the clouds?"

Her voice was...soothing. It wasn't gentle by any means, but something about it stirred something in your heart.

You scrambled back, nearly knocking over the bag of makeup items behind you.

You turned to her, cheeks flushed, trying to regain some ounce of dignity, but it was to no avail. People never talked like that to you anymore; they were either too fearful or simply thought you weren't worth their time.

She tilted her head, lips curling into a grin as she leaned onto the table.

"So...are you going to pay or what?"

You only nodded, too fearful that if you spoke you would sound like a diseased frog. Without even looking back, you slammed the necessary payment onto the counter and hurried out the door.

The girl was only wearing a standard employee uniform.

So how did she look so damn pretty?

Despite that lackluster first meet, though, you had always come back. When you had entered the shop the next day, her eyebrows had furrowed in surprise and a grin danced across her lips.

She set aside the plastic cup she was holding and made her way to the register.

“I hope you don’t run off staring at clouds again,” She drawled, running a hand along the buttons of the register. “What can I get for you today, beautiful?”

How your ice cold heart didn’t explode at that very second was beyond you.

The days passed into weeks and soon, you found yourself visiting the store—her—every other day.

Eventually, you learned her name to be Se-Mi.

Se-Mi, Se-Mi, Se-Mi.

Her name dripped from your lips like the smoothest of honey.

You loved her piercings, her posture, and that damned smirk she always had.

She was so kind to you. You savored the quiet nights you'd spend with her out in the park, and whispered her name into your pillow before you slept.

Se-Mi had big, big dreams. Dreams of becoming a rockstar. Dreams of becoming a mechanic. Dreams of surviving this cruel world and making it out on top.

But, despite it all, you always kept her at an arm's length apart. After all, it was almost time for the games to begin. Soon, you would have to leave her to kill once again.

So, on the night before the first game would start, you left her a note on the convenience table where you two first met. You wrote of how you had to go, for your work was grueling and demanding, and you couldn't have her be caught in the crossfire.

You apologized for not meeting in person.

You never said goodbye. You couldn't. She needed to think of you as merely a fleeting presence, lest she catches feelings and finds out you're a killer.

You had planned on shooting your sorrows away.

So, imagine your surprise when you saw her wake up in the games.

Her? No, no, no, she couldn't be one of those disgusting vermin that plagued the streets. Se-Mi was so kind, so brave and headstrong.

She wasn't exactly well-off, but she couldn't have been struggling that much!

Surely, this was a mistake!

But, when you ran to the Front Man and asked him, he simply pulled out her file and handed it to you.

 It was not a mistake. In fact, SeMi was drowning in debt.

"I trust this won't be a problem to you?" He asked, leaning back into his plush chair as he swirled the liquor in his cup.

You swallowed.

"Of course not, sir."

The Front Man stood still for a moment, then sighed. 

“If you were anyone else, I would shoot you because clearly, this is a conflict of interest and we need to keep these games fair,” He finally said at last, shaking his head. “But…you have more than proved yourself to be loyal to us, to me. I trust you won’t abuse it?”

Your heart stopped when you felt his icy eyes on you. When you nodded, he smiled.

“Good, good. After all, I would hate to see you befall the same fate as 097.”

The Front Man motioned for you to leave.

“Do not fail me. 098.”

—

As you left the room, you could feel your heart racing. All of a sudden, it was so much harder to breathe, to walk.

A whirlwind of thoughts raced in your mind, though one drowned out the rest.

You wouldn't be kind to her. Your brief time with her meant nothing; after all, she wasn't human.

Right?

When you stepped into the area of the First Game, you could barely keep yourself upright. Your hands trembled, immediately flying to your face to make sure that your mask was still on. Your legs nearly buckled when you watched as Se-Mi enter the Red Light Green Light

The gun felt ten times heavier in your hands.

During the duration of the game, you would not shoot her.

Of course, you tried to tell yourself that you weren't giving her special treatment! 

Everyone trembled in the games; if you shot everyone who shook slightly there would be no one left to inherit the prize! You were still impassive, it was still equal.

You didn't care about her. You never had.

But...like most lies people tell themselves, it came apart in the quiet of the night. Your fear for her echoed in every beat of your heart, in every gasping breath you took. You saw her lifeless body in the shadows, watched as bullets tore themselves into her skin and blood ran down her wounds.

Se-Mi, Se-Mi, Se-Mi. You couldn't let her die.

When the second game commenced, you could hardly suppress your nervousness as you watched her play Flying Stone.

It was a difficult game, after all.

And oh, when she passed through the finish line, you couldn't help but throw your hands in the air-much to the chagrin of your co-guards.

They stared at you questioningly, causing terror to sift in your heart.

During the third game, your eyes had met.

It was only for a split second, but feeling her gaze on you made you feel so...exposed. 

Your cheeks grew hot and your hands felt slippery.

You loathed how she looked at you, like you were some sort of monster.

Though, you supposed she wasn't quite wrong.

When you watched as Player 230 and his lackey dragged another man away, leaving Se-Mi alone, it felt as if your heart was breaking. It took every willpower in your body not to shoot them on the spot for doing such a thing.

Though, that willpower still wasn't enough for you not to intervene in some way.

After making sure none of the guards were watching, you waved at her in the shadows. When her attention turned to you, you acted. Frantically, you pointed towards a trembling duo in the far right corner of the carousel. 

The clock read ten seconds. If Se-Mi rushed, she could make it in time.

And, she did.

As you watched the door clamp shut behind her, a whirlwind of emotions appeared in your gut. What you just did couldn’t be chalked up to strictly following the rules.

You had helped her. You had tilted the odds to your favor by alerting her to safety. You had done the very thing the Front Man had warned you not to do.

So, why was it that you could barely summon any regret?

After Mingle had ended, you turned to leave, but stopped when you noticed Se-Mi trailing after you. Her arms were crossed together, and she chewed her bottom lip. 

And then, she gave you the tiniest of nods. 

Thank you, she mouthed.

You felt like your heart was exploding all over again.

For a brief moment, you thought that what you were doing was enough. You could oversee the games, and remain relatively impassive until Se-Mi was in danger, in which you could then give her a gentle nudge.

But then you remembered the next game.

The Special Game.

This time, instead of automated machinery, it was forks and fists. Instead of children’s games, it was pure, human violence. Instead of the threat of a bullet piercing through their skull, the only thing that would keep them going was their raw, unbridled rage for wanting to survive. Revenge would be enacted, and rivalries settled.

You couldn’t leave Se-Mi alone. There were too many unknown variables. Se-Mi never held back her tongue—it was one of the things you loved about her, in fact—but tonight it might also be what kills her.

Again, that terrible image of Se-Mi’s bloodied corpse popped into your mind. If she died, it would be all your fault because you let it happen. 

Fear flooded your veins. 

You won’t let that happen. You couldn’t lose someone else in this damned world. You couldn’t lose her.

That night, as the lights dimmed and the last of players were ushered from the bloodied bathrooms, you stared at the camera glued to the ceiling of your room. You knew someone was watching you on the other side, waiting.

Instinctively, you draped a blanket over your hands.

You couldn’t let them see how much they trembled.

Before you had meant Se-Mi, you never really cared about the camera in your walls. Sure, the lack of privacy was annoying, but in your mind, it also served as evidence to the higher ups that you were completely and utterly loyal to them.

In a way, they had saved you, after all.

But now? 

The way the camera was angled—tilted so that it could observe every inch of your room—made your skin crawl.

Suddenly, it seemed as if the air was being choked out of your lungs. Obsessively, you grabbed your mask and held it up your face.

If you ran into the room and protected Se-Mi, you wouldn’t get another chance. The entire organization would be after you—he would be after you.

Were you really willing to betray everything you’ve known for a girl you’ve only known for months?

But then, you remembered the time you spent with her. You remember those starry nights, those quiet evenings, and those chaotic days that had you sweating with a stupid grin on your face.

Se-Mi made you feel alive. With her, you were no longer a robot, but a person, free laugh and giggle whenever you’d want without fear of losing face or risking a punishment.

It was then that intercom rang, its cheery tone a stark contrast to the indecision and uncertainty that broiled in your gut.

“Soldiers, please get ready,” It sang.

You let out a sigh and stood up, eyes trained to camera, to the Front Man.

Your decision was made.

—

 The stomps of the other guards echoed across the corridors. You stood motionless, a gun in hand, as you pressed your hands against the cold concrete walls hiding you.

Soon, they would realize your absence and a search would be dispatched. But, for now, you were invisible.

Quietly, you slinked to a shadowy corner of the room. When you heard footsteps approaching, you ducked down and readied your gun.

Within moments, you saw the growing shadow of the manager. You crouched down, waiting for him to turn, then—

Without giving your doubt any time to fester, you leaped out of the shadows and pressed the gun to his head. Before he could shout, you shoved him against a wall and pulled out the pistol from his hoister.

“Move, and you die,” You snarl.

You watched as the man stammered, recognizing the tell-tale sign of fear alighting in his eyes through the mask.

“Y-you! What are you—“

You clamped his mouth shut.

“Shut up and take me to the players.”

The man trembled in your hands and a choked gasp escaped his lips. But, with another nudge of your gun, you got him to move.

When he started marching to the double decked doors, you smacked his back.

“Not there,” You whisper, grabbing his collar. “Take me through the tunnels.”

The man stiffened. His lips twisted into a question, then froze.

He nodded, and began walking the opposite direction. 

From your adolescent years spent in the games, you had picked up upon your share of rumors. You heard of soldiers purposefully missing to harvest the organs of the eliminated, and you heard that there was a secret escape hatch hidden somewhere among the concrete walls.

But, what had drawn your attention the most, was the rumor that there was another way to enter the main lobby where the players slept.

A young, curious you had traversed through the halls and found that very corridor, though you soon realized that only a manager’s mask could open the door.

Now, an older and more jaded you stood in front of the same very doors, caressing the steel barrier with a new sense of urgency.

You had to move. Fast.

Already, you were hearing the beginnings of a brawl: A thump here, a curse there.  

If you wanted any chance of saving Se-Mi, you had to act now. 

Quickly, you shoved the man in front of the motion sensors and gestured for him to gaze into the center. It whirred softly, and then—

“Identity confirmed. Access granted.”

Letting out a shaky sigh, you knocked the manager out, and then ran into the tunnels. It was dimly lit, but you didn’t care.

The screams of fighting and flesh tearing bounced across the walls. At another time, you wouldn’t have cared, but right now, the sound terrified you to the bone 

Soon, you saw a regular wooden door and immediately twisted the doorknob. 

Immediately, you were met with the sight of utter brutality. Corpses littered the floors and blood soaked the survivors. Some screamed at the sight of you while others fell back, eyes trained on the gun in your hands.

“Where’s Se-“ You cut yourself off with a cough. “Where's Player 380?”

The woman closest to you fell to the floor. 

“Do…do you mean Se-Mi?”

Before you could respond, you sensed footsteps approaching behind you. Without skipping a beat, you turned and coldly shot the two men creeping behind you.

They fell to the floor with a thud.

Then, you turned back and nodded. 

The woman stared at you, more frazzled than ever. Instinctively, she stepped back. 

“I…she should be over there,” She murmured, pointing to a corned of the room.

You nodded. 

“Thank you.”

As you ran, you tried to ignore the surprised shouts and gasps from the other players. Most fell back when you aimed your gun at them, but some looked at you curiously.

You glanced back at the double doors, and cursed.

The cameras had no doubt exposed your location to the others. Already, guards were pouring in, guns at the ready.

You were running on borrowed time. 

You rounded a corner and stayed near the shadows. Then, you heard a piercing scream that belonged to Se-Mi.

Gasping, you bolted towards the voice. There, you saw a man shoving her against the wall, sinking something into her neck.

You didn’t stop to think about it. You shot him in an instant.

Se-Mi fell to the floor, gasping for breath.

Blood was still flowing freely from the glass shard that lay pierced in her jugular. 

Fuck, you would have to take care of that later.

You looked back. The gunshot had alerted the other guards, who were now running to you, screaming.

Running in raw adrenaline, you hoisted an injured Se-Mi into your arms and zig zagged across the pillars holding the bunk beds. Bullets flew by you and one grazed your shoulder. 

You bit your lip, but didn’t make a noise.

“What are you doing?” Se-Mi demanded, fear lacing the edges of your tone. Her arms wrapped around your neck, angling her head in a way that rested against your shoulders. 

You stiffened. 

“I can’t let them hurt you.”

The second you whispered the words, you saw recognition flash in her eyes.

The beginning of your name was being murmured from Se-Mi, almost questionably, but the sound of footsteps approaching.

Cursing, you hid behind a pillar, and when their attention was drawn elsewhere you dashed to the corridor from where you entered.

The two of you were still breathing heavily when you set her down in the middle of the tunnel. You had locked the door, but you knew it was only a matter of time before they found you and broke in.

Still, you couldn’t help but ask, “A…are you hurt anywhere, Se-Mi?”

She stood there for a moment, rubbing her hands together. Her lip piercing glinted in the dull light, and for a few seconds you were enchanted by her. Blood clung onto her tracker, and you knew she hadn’t showered in days, but that still didn’t stop your heart from fluttering.

And then, she laughed.

Startled, you stepped back. 

“Am I hurt?” She wheezed, and you immediately cringed at your question. “Of course I’m fucking hurt. I have this bitch of a wound on my jugular and I’m covered with cuts. Everything hurts like hell!”

Despite yourself, a blush raged on your cheeks.

“I-I, okay, that was a stupid question-“

“Terrible, even,” She chimed in, the faintest of smirks curling at the edges of her lips. 

You nodded, “Yes, terrible and dumb but-“ 

You gestured towards her legs. “Are there any that would hinder you from running?”

Se-Mi frowned. 

“No, not really.”

You blew out a breath.

“Good, because if we want to escape this place we need to be able to move. Fast.” 

Gently, you helped pry the shard from her neck. It had stopped bleeding now, but it wouldn’t take much to reopen the wound.

“We have to get going, now,” You muttered, and started marching towards the other end of the hall.

“Wait,” Se-Mi hissed, tugging you back. Her voice was softer now, but still held conviction. “Aren’t you going to…explain yourself?”

You stopped, dread pooling in your gut.

When you turned to look at her, you couldn’t meet her gaze.

“I…fuck,” You glanced at the door, fearful that it would break open at any moment. “Se-Mi, we should do this later.”

You swallowed.

“I promise that when we get out of here, I’ll come clean and explain everything. But, right now we need to hurry and run while they still can’t find us.”

Se-Mi stepped closer. She laced your fingers together and flicked your mask.

“Can you still take this off,” She murmured, tugging you closer. “I want to see you. Not some…pink clown trying to cosplay the Nintendo loading screen.”

You let out a snort. “Pink clowns? I’m rather offended.”

Se-Mi smiled coyly. “Don’t spit on your luck, honey, that was my nicest of comparisons. And besides.”

She paused, her face growing softer. “I want to see you. I…I missed your face.”

That blush on your cheeks was now a raging inferno.

 But, before you could reply, she added quickly, “Getting that letter really hurt my feelings, you know? I need to see your face again to make it easier for me to imagine giving you a nice, clean punch after all you did.”

You bowed your head. Despite the mirth, you could sense genuine pain hiding underneath. You knew you had a lot to make up for.

“I…understand.”

Tenderly, you unclasped your mask. Then, you slid down the jet black face covering, revealing your face to her.

Se-Mi gasped softly.

“It really is you,” She whispered.

Se-Mi cupped your face carefully, as if she was worried you were merely an illusion in her mind. You leaned into her touch, humming.

And then you felt soft lips on your own.

A gasp left your lips at the sudden contact, but then she kissed you again and suddenly all your thoughts vanished.

Roughly, she pinned you against the wall and laced your fingers with hers. The noise that left your lips was embarrassing. 

When she finally pulled away, you were gasping for air. Your cheeks were blazing, and you were sure even the tips of your ears and neck were tinted with pink.

Se-Mi smirked at you, and pulled you by the collar. Just then, you heard pounding on the walls.

“You sure have a lot to make up for me once we’re safe,” She cooed. “Put your mask back on and lead the way, beautiful.”

You nodded dumbly, and started running.

A/N: Oh my God. I still can’t believe this ask grew so much, haha! If you guys want a part 2, please do not hesitate to let me know! I hope you liked it!