#she didn’t raise the roof but at least she fell from it

[lieslab]

I am the face of love's rage

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Han Jisung X gn reader

Summary: After snapping at your boyfriend, it feels like the world is spiraling out of control

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 1.6K

Trigger warning: Grief, anger, child neglect and implied child abuse, domestic abuse, a moment of self-harm, depression, and self-hatred.

_ _ _

It’s just not fair. It’s not fair that you weren’t asked to be born. It’s not fair that you didn’t get to play a role in this. You were forced from the womb against your will; procreated by two people who were in over their heads. You were shoved into this brutal world with nothing. No hope, no love, no faith, nothing. 

Some people have consequences for their actions, but not your parents. Life went on and you grew. You grew up full of envy when it came to your friends. How much you wished you had their parents instead of your own. 

Family movie night seemed like heaven on earth. Being tucked in between your best friend and her mother. Fizzy soda poured and pepperoni pizza shined with grease. It stuck to elementary fingers and you accidentally got it in your hair. 

As you washed it out in the unfamiliar bathroom of your best friend’s house, you found love in unexpected places. The fuzzy oversized bright blue bath towel. The ones back at your house hadn’t been replaced since the early 2000’s. 

It was the way her mother tucked her in and included you. Pressing warm lips in a foreign way against your forehead. She insisted that she loved you, but you didn't know her long. How strange it was for love to float up unexpectedly. 

It came in high school sporting events when the stands sat abandoned. Not really, they were full of cheering parents, but none of them were yours. They were always too busy with work or maybe they were at home swinging verbal assaults at one another. 

Even when you graduated, you scanned the crowd hoping that by some miracle, they’d finally show up, but they didn’t. The cheers from the crowd and shrieks from your friends fell upon deaf ears. How wonderful it was to be created and getting nothing in return. 

Maybe parents don’t owe you anything besides a roof over your head. The food on your plate. Clothes that will keep you warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Maybe that’s all they’re meant for. 

At least, that’s what they think. Sometimes they never asked for you. You were a mistake and they didn’t think it through. Five minutes of fun suddenly became a future full of responsibilities and we’re all only human in the end, so some of us choose to run. 

You can outrun your past mistakes, but somewhere along the way, they will knot together and tangle. They will leave you suffocated and struggling to breathe. No matter where you go, karma has a funny way of catching up. 

Even if that means waiting to show its face until it snatches your soul from your body. Sometimes the only sense of justice we have in life is that which becomes buried beneath six feet of dirt. It’s not enough to stitch the wound, but enough to temporarily numb the hurt. 

You can raise a child in a plethora of ways. From drilling the growing brain full of political ideology to believing in a damning God. Fairytales and happy endings or demons that will wreck havoc across barren plains. A child can be full of whatever you want them to be. 

Children are a lot like flowers. When given the nutrients and water, when the love is piled high, when mistakes are teaching points instead of crucifixion, you can turn the world into a better place. A kid can go so far, but if you choose the opposite, how does a kid survive as an adult? 

Sometimes self-love isn’t enough. Those positive daily affirmations seem silly when you hate who’s staring back at you in the mirror. There will always be a dark void inside that doubts the love we’re granted. If our parents didn’t love us, then who would? 

It takes a village to raise a kid, but sometimes villages become abandoned. They starve to death, they take off for a better life, they become the people they swore they hated. Things happen and kids become abandoned. 

Physically, emotionally, verbally. A man-made damnation that has much more in common with a rabies filled wolf than anything. Snarling and growling; snapping and charging at anyone who gets too close.

You’re just a wild dog. Please forgive them, they don’t know why they bite. They don’t know why they isolate and self-destruct. They blow a fuse, intertwine themselves with self-pity and hatred, and then fall victim to the vicious cycle again. 

And then it repeats and it repeats and it repeats. 

Friendships shatter like glass that glistens in the flames of fire. Rage builds and words shoot to kill. A ballerina forced to dance on tip-toes while foot skin shreds apart and blood soaks the tips of pointe shoes. 

Sometimes you meet someone who feels soft enough to tame that wild beast. Han Jisung was full of flaws, everyone is. Insecurities sat between the heart and chest cavity, but he gave you a chance. He gave you a chance and you ruined it. 

Hands slammed into your skull as if that’d fix it. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” Your head throbbed and a headache formed, but you couldn’t stop. You deserved the punishment, at least, that’s what you thought. 

Some people aren’t born with the art of self-regulation. Some don’t know how to stop until it’s too late. You were angry and upset and a fuse was blown. You blew up, skyrocketed, and you didn’t stop the shrapnel of sharp words that flew from your mouth. 

They echoed in your head over and over again. You screamed until your voice gave out and you choked on your own frustration. You begged him to go away, chucked a book at his head in the process. 

Tears flooded his eyes, but he refused to budge. It killed you, you hated that look. With a quivering bottom lip, he spoke the soft words that wouldn’t leave your head. 

“I’m not going to leave you because I love you. So throw what you must. Scream at me until your lungs deflate, damn me to hell, I don’t care. I will love you until I’m old and gray. I will love you until the stars burn out and even then, I’ll find a way.” 

A gentle softness against the shrieks in your head. A hand wiped away your tears, after he took the risk and shuffled towards you. You shoved it away and slammed the bedroom door in his face. 

It was something so childish, so stupid, something that your parents used to do to you. You remembered what it was like when that gust of sudden wind hit you. It was a reminder that love was meant to be earned, not freely given. 

You didn’t deserve his love, his support, his softness. You didn’t deserve Han Jisung and you knew that, but why the fuck did he not know that? He was a thorn in your side and you hated him. 

You hated him because you loved him. You knew you were awful. You couldn’t control your emotions. You were the rain of an incoming tornado. Too hot, too humid, cold rain, and a chance of sudden hail. 

 A kid without guidance. One that had grown up and found themselves tangled in their mother’s misses. Your father’s regrets were imprinted in your skull and no matter how hard you tried to get through bone to rip out the stitches, they were always there. You could grit your teeth and scream, but you were always going to be a product of your parents. 

When you grow up without everything, it’s hard to figure it out. Self-love can be conflicting. Positivity feels impossible. The past creeps around you like a cobra and strikes when you least expect it. 

A victim. 

A survivor. 

A monster. 

An abuser. 

The words spun around in a cyclone and became tangled. Did you blame your parents for this mess or would you blame yourself? You could have been better, they should have made you better, but you were grown. 

Tears stung your eyes and everything swelled. It compacted into a lump in the back of your throat. It sat there and wouldn’t move. No matter how many times you tried to swallow, it wouldn’t go away. 

So you collapsed against the side of the bedroom door, just like Han knew you would. He was pressed against it from the other side. He listened to you silently as you spun out of control. Tears slipped down his cheeks, but he didn’t intervene. 

Your ragged breaths caused him to shut his eyes. He worried about you far more than you’d ever know. He cared too much and he’d never stop. He meant what he told you, he meant it with every fiber of his being. 

Snot strung from your nose and slipped down your upper lip. It tasted like defeat and failure. You squeezed your eyes shut and a whimper slipped out. 

Han couldn’t reach you through the door. As much as he wanted to grab you and smother you with love, you wouldn’t allow it. You had to take time to calm down. You had to figure yourself out. 

In the meantime, he’d be here singing softly. One of his songs that he wrote years ago. A sweet voice murmuring a symphony while your entire being crumbled behind the door. A lullaby to soothe your tired and weary soul. 

If only years ago, it would have been coming from the larynx of your mother instead.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

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[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 9

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Word Count: 6,800

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, peril, blood, and angst. 

Part 9: Breach

Loco’s eyes widened as he watched the surveillance feed. 

“Coño carajo,” he cursed in Spanish. “Hey, boss.” 

Frank was just about to step out of their “office” (a dusty back room behind the library). He stopped at his subordinate’s voice and turned back, frowning when he caught sight of the large triple screens. 

A helicopter had just landed on the roof of the mansion. It had a red banner painted with “Fiesta Tours” on the side. The door slid open, and out tumbled a skinny kid who fell onto his knees and threw up on the ground. 

His blonde girlfriend came out and patiently rubbed his back. Though she rolled her eyes at something the pilot said. 

It was Billy Butcher, which meant the other three assholes jumping out of the helicopter were the rest of his team that had eluded Antonio’s men in Medellin.  

“Damn it,” Frank muttered. “How’d they get through our airspace without tripping any alarms?”

“They stole a fucking tourist trap, bro,” said Loco.

By the time he glanced up, Frank had already moved back to his desk to unlock a large safe with both a code and a fingerprint. Out of the safe came a briefcase. Loco stood from his chair and grabbed his gun.

Frank popped open the case and grabbed one of several vials. He gave one to Loco and pocketed two more before he locked the briefcase again.

“Keep them busy,” Frank said. He pressed a finger to the communicator in his ear. “Saul, we have company. Meet me upstairs, then prepare the getaway as a contingency.”

“Got it,” Saul responded. He was currently on patrol on the east side. Frank knew it would take him roughly two and a half minutes to get back.  

“Y el Capitán?” Loco asked. And the Captain?

Meaning Soldier Boy. Instead of answering him, Frank pulled out his cell on his way out of the room. Loco was on his heels. 

“What?” said Ben. As usual, he sounded annoyed at being bothered. 

“Sir, we have a breach,” Frank said. “It’s Butcher.” 

Fuck. Ben grimaced, though he didn’t voice his displeasure. His hand tightened on the cell phone at his ear.

“Where is she?” he asked. He heard Frank give a command to check the feed. It was Loco’s voice that gave the reply.  

“In the garden,” Frank answered. 

Typical, Ben thought. The garden was your favorite place. You hadn’t told him that, but he’d caught you there often enough.

“All right, get her to the helicopter,” Ben said. “Take her to the next house. I’ll deal with Butcher and his cocksucking crew.” 

Frank resisted the urge to raise a brow, even if his boss couldn’t see it. Extracting you from the house was not the original plan. But he agreed and parted ways from Loco with a nod. 

When Saul caught up with Frank in the hall on the top of the stairs, second floor, Frank handed him a vial of V24. Both men shot up together, each taking sharp breaths at the intensity of unnatural green-hued chemicals running through their veins. 

Frank recovered first, rolling his shoulders as new awareness made his senses sharp, his blood already pounding with adrenaline. 

“The most expensive damn high I’ve ever had,” Saul remarked, smirking. 

Frank didn’t take the same pleasure in it, but he conceded that with a nod. Being able to see through walls was an advantage, at least. It just took a moment for his vision to even out and normalize.

“Get it done,” was all he said.

While Saul continued on to the roof with super speed, Frank made his way down the stairs, and through the French doors to the backyard. He found you there, sitting on the grass with a book in the garden. 

Good, he thought in approval of your jeans and V-neck top. You would be easier to transport this way. 

He called your name, and you greeted him with a smile, until you noticed his sternness.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

Frank pulled you up by your arm, firm but not painful. 

“We have to go,” he said. Despite your protests, he led you back inside, then up the narrow staircase that you realized would have to lead to the roof. There was nowhere else to go on the roof but up, and away. Frank was taking you away from the house. Why?

“It’s my team, isn’t it,” you said.

You stared up at Frank’s profile. His mustache often obscured his expression, but you caught the way his brows tightened, as did his hold on your arm. It felt tighter, stronger than usual, and not just because he hadn’t manhandled you in a long time. 

It raised your suspicions, but your heart was also thumping faster as you realized that your friends were here somewhere.

“Where’s Ben,” you demanded to know. A tendril of worry laced up your spine. “Where the hell are we going?”

“To a secure location,” Frank replied. But he didn’t give you more than that. You dug your heels in on the stairs and tried to work your arm out of his grip, but he was unrelenting. 

“Let me go!” you snapped. “I have to talk to them.”

“Boss’s orders,” Frank said, his jaw tightening. You could tell he didn’t want to hurt you, but he would drag your ass up the rest of these steps.

You were reduced to pleading. “Frank, please! He’s in danger.”

His eyes sharpened at that. 

“You may not believe it, but they can take him down,” you said. Desperation shone in your eyes, and you fought the conflicted nature of your emotions in what you were about to say.  

“If I’m there, maybe I can talk down both sides,” you argued. “I know you’re just following orders, but if you care about your next paycheck, you’ll fucking listen to me.”

Frank seemed to consider your words for all of three seconds. 

Then he continued to haul you up all the way to the roof. You were struggling and shouting, but you were made to go all the same. 

When the door opened to the roof, however, Frank caught a slender fist in his face, knocking him right out. You gasped as the man careened back and nearly bowled you over, but that same hand caught him by the collar and kept him from crushing you. 

You looked up and brightened with an incredulous smile.

“Kimiko!” 

The smaller woman gave you a smile and a small wave with her free hand. But before she could finish Frank off, you raised your hands against her raised fist.

“Wait! Don’t kill him,” you asked. “Just leave him here.”

Kimiko looked confused for a second, but she did as you asked and helped you let him down gently to the ground. You noticed the blood hastily wiped from her hand and face—onto her black leather jacket.  

“Where is everyone?” you asked. 

Kimiko signaled ahead, but you opened the door to the roof real quick, just to see the littered bodies of dead men on the ground. You blanched at the sight. 

You turned away from the scene and followed Kimiko, who lowered her head as she continued down the stairs. 

Despite yourself, you hoped Loco and Saul had gotten away, at least. They were your captors, but they’d never treated you badly. You’d even cooked for them, hung out with them, listened to them bicker and bitch, and watched them cheat one another at cards. They were criminals, but they weren’t monsters. 

And not wanting to see them die only scratched the surface of your conflict when you thought about Ben. 

As you and Kimiko jogged through the mansion, heading toward the sounds of fighting and yelling and destruction downstairs, your guilt began to grow. 

You knew very well what Ben had done. But the truth was, you no longer had the heart to condemn him.

To play jury and judge and executioner—interning him into an ice box until he could be neutralized, or until the end of his unnaturally long life.

To continue making him pay beyond his forty years of imprisonment. 

You’d seen the worst of him: his salaciousness, his temper, his trauma, his destructive coping mechanisms, and painfully outdated ideals. 

Yet, Ben was more than all of that. He’d allowed you to see more. 

But the moment you said any of that, you knew how he would react. Just as you knew how M.M. would look at you. And it made your chest ache and your mind spin faster than it already was. 

What the fuck am I going to do?

You got your opportunity to answer that question when a star bolt shot right in front of you and Kimiko—through the open door of a large room. 

It was big enough to be a ballroom for parties, but right now it was a battlefield between your friends, a support team of CIA officers, Loco and his team of men, and of course, Ben at the center. He was in his full Soldier Boy gear, complete with the stupid-ass helmet. 

While Hughie had clearly been made to hang out at the fringe of it all. He stood there, looking worried with a gun in his hand that he didn’t look all that comfortable with.

He noticed you and Kimiko first and called your name. You smiled and accepted the joyful hug he gave you (after he carefully tucked his gun in his pants). 

“You’re actually okay! I can’t fucking believe it,” he said. But then he quickly amended, “I mean, we all hoped you were still alive, I just mean—”

You just laughed and teasingly slapped his cheeks between your hands to stop his fumbling. “Thanks for coming to find me.”

Ben ears must’ve been perked up, because he sharply glanced over. You getting free wasn’t part of his plan, you knew, and he did not look pleased. Your amusement fading, you let go of Hughie and met Ben’s gaze across the room.

You were worried. About him. About everyone. 

“We don’t have to do this,” you told Hughie. Kimiko had already joined the fray to stop a gunman from clipping Frenchie from behind. 

Your earnest gaze met Hughie’s confused one. “He’s not what you think he is…well, not exactly, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” he asked. “He fucking kidnapped you!”

“Technically, he didn’t. It was one of his overzealous groupies,” you replied, your expression firming at the thought of Antonio. “That guy’s dead. But there are more reasons. I’ve gotta stop this somehow—”

“That’s…not a good idea,” Hughie was saying, and even tried to stop you when you took the gun from his pants. But you ignored his protests and headed right into the jungle of bullets and star bolts, and the crunch of bone and blood. 

You didn’t shoot to kill, evading and defending yourself more than fighting back. Annie noticed you with a happy smile, as did Frenchie and M.M. Butcher was busy shooting at Ben with a fucking launcher. 

But Ben avoided the massive projectile with a simple knock of his shield. It sailed through the back windows, eventually exploding into the sky. 

For a moment, there was enough of a lull in the room that you took the opportunity to open your mouth, prepared to call out to both men.

However, something else broke through the windows—from the opposite side. 

It was a dart that landed between Ben’s feet, black and flashing a small red light. He rose a brow. But before he could just kick the thing away, it detonated.

The explosion was bigger than even Ben anticipated. It blew up a huge crater in the ground, knocking him and everyone else surrounding several feet away. 

Even you were tossed back. Your gun clattered away from you as you landed painfully on the ground, most likely onto a dead body. You blinked the haziness out of your vision as you struggled to recover, to pull yourself up. 

“What the fuck?” you heard Ben utter. 

When you turned your head, you couldn’t help echoing his statement. 

Black Noir was standing just before the large crater, the one he’d apparently created.

He’s dead, you thought dizzily. Or at least, he was supposed to be. Homelander killed him six months ago. 

Seriously, what the fuck. Ben was bewildered, to say the least. He’d been told that his unfortunate spawn had offed Noir, but yet here he was, the little shit. 

“Fucking Noir,” Ben said with a laugh, after he’d stood and made a show of rolling his neck. “What frosted hole did you crawl out of?”

The supe didn’t respond. Didn’t even move a muscle from where he stood in the center of the room. And the rest had gone quiet by now, waiting and watching as two predators approached one another.

“I heard you became a fucking mute,” said Ben. He smirked at the crater in his floor. “You’ve figured out how to make an entrance, I’ll give you that. But we both know you’re not up to this. You could never even shine my fucking shoes.”

Ben tossed the first punch. He expected the way Noir deflected, but not the force behind his blow, which pounded below Ben’s ribs and forced a grunt out of him. He actually felt it.

Along with subsequent punches Noir got in before Ben finally remembered to raise his shield and get back on the offensive. But now he was annoyed. Noir was never this strong, not even on his best day. What kind of bullshit does Vought got him hopped up on? More V?

And then, a solid punch to his face had Ben stumbling back. He caught his smarting jaw with no small amount of irritation, and he wiped at his nose. 

It came away bloody. Ben stared at it in disbelief, and then, in anger. Back from the dead or not, he was going to put Noir back in the fucking ground today. 

His blood burned hot. So much that he realized, belatedly, that his chest was starting to get that nuclear glow. 

Good, he thought. He’d blow a third hole through this cocksucker, and whoever else got in his way. 

“Ben!” 

Your voice cut through the whirring in his ears as he grappled with Black Noir, just loud enough for Ben to notice you. You weren’t far from your friends, but he realized then how close to danger you were. 

He was impossibly hot now, and still fighting hand-to-hand with Noir. His jaw locked as he tried to focus on the fight and figure out what to do. It was getting harder and harder to focus—on Noir, on the power growing inside him, on your worried face. 

Shit, wait—

And he lost control. 

It was all of seconds. 

Annie was just ahead of you, closer to the blast zone. So in those last precious moments, you made a decision: you pushed Annie out of the way.

Then your feet were once again swept from under you, and you flew back even harder than the first time. You blacked out before you had the chance to feel any pain.

That came later, the next time you opened your eyes.

When your vision was able to clear of the mess of colors and shapes, sharpening into focus, you saw Frank as he pulled you out of the rubble. But it was at your expense, as a sharp flare of pain erupted in your side. 

You didn’t recognize the sound of your own voice, a strangled groan. In the distance, maybe you heard Annie’s voice. Or even M.M.’s, you couldn’t be sure. You flashed in and out of consciousness after that. 

The next scene you truly remembered was being laid down on the floor of a helicopter. A backpack was tucked under your head. The engine was loud, rearing to go. Frank was shouting to someone, whoever the pilot was (you hoped it wasn’t Loco). 

“She needs more than a medic,” you heard Frank say. For a man who was usually so stoic, you thought you heard grave worry in his voice. 

You managed to look down, and you frowned at the long piece of wood protruding from your side. It wept blood beneath your ribs.

Your light green shirt was slowly getting stained, but your mind was so fuzzy, it was hard for you to understand what was happening.

“Let’s go!” Loco shouted. 

Oh, no, you thought. He was going to fly this thing.

“We can’t take off yet,” said Saul. “Where’s—”

A soot-stained hand grabbed onto the frame of the helicopter’s open door. You recognized that hand, followed shortly by the rest of Ben. His helmet was off, shield tucked onto his back. He looked pissed.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he snapped. His frown deepened the moment he saw you, which you didn’t quite understand.

“Ben,” you said, even though it was an effort to do so.

Every breath was like a hot knife cutting deeper into your side. Your eyes closed at the pain, and at tears that burned down your cheeks. It also cut through the brain fog enough for you to realize this was bad.

It was very bad. 

A splintered chair leg had impaled your body. 

“Get a vial,” you heard him say. 

What? You struggled to open your eyes again. Ben was there, looking down on you with a different kind of frown, and something deeper in his green eyes. His sweaty hair fell over his brows, and you had a sudden itch to brush the strands aside. 

You were pacified a little when his half-gloved hand came to rest on your head, over your hair. His thumb traced over your brow. 

“Hurry the fuck up, Frank,” he said, briefly glaring over your head. Frank soon appeared at your side. He held a green vial in his hands, tinged with blue. Your eyes widened. 

“What…”

“That needs to come out first.” Frank nodded at something you couldn’t see. You didn’t have the strength to look down anymore. You knew this was it, though.

You were going to die.

Ben’s hand braced your shoulder. His eyes met yours. 

You didn’t understand the thoughts crossing through them, or his hesitation. But you did feel it when he grabbed the large wood splinter and slowly pulled it from your body. Your scream sounded almost inhuman to your own ears. 

At least the pain was enough to knock you out once again.

Ben had no such reprieve as he looked down at the gaping hole in your side. Scarlet blood ran and pooled by his knees, even slipped through his fingers and around his hand when he tried to clamp down on the wound. 

“Fucking do it already,” he said through gritted teeth. 

With a short nod, Frank injected V24 into your arm. 

You healed in minutes. 

Breath drew into your lungs—a reflex as chemicals flooded through your blood and knit your organs, muscle, and skin tissue closed, even regenerating the blood you had lost. And it felt like a switch had turned on in your brain, set to “high voltage.”

You sat up as a ragged sound erupted from your throat. A hand closed on your shoulder, and you instinctively fought it off. 

“Hey. Easy,” said Ben.

Your breathing was shallow as you met his eyes, focused on his face. You noticed Frank on your other side, poised to support you if you needed it. You looked down and noticed your blood-soaked shirt, the blood on the floor of the aircraft, and the empty syringe in Frank’s hand. 

“You shot me up,” you realized. Your voice shook, but anger drew your brows together before you whipped your head back to Ben. “You shot me up with V24!”

He stared back at you, his expression tightening. “I saved you.”

“And you kidnapped me. Again!” you shouted. 

“You were hurt, and I saved your fucking life! Again,” Ben countered, gesturing at you with his blood-stained hand. But you glared at him.

“You are the reason I needed saving,” you snapped. 

At that, Ben glared right back at you…but he stayed quiet. 

Good. You huffed and turned away from him. You folded your knees up to your chest and rested your forehead against your knees. 

You had nothing else to say to him. 

You ignored Frank’s helping hand when the helicopter finally landed at the next house—this time on the gravel driveway.

This place was at the top of a hill on the outskirts of a thick jungle. Once you were led inside, you could tell this house was smaller, though just as lavish as the last one.

Ben seemed too exasperated with you to follow you, instead going his own way to find his room upstairs. Frank led you to a guest room downstairs, where he informed you that he’d find you some new clothes. You were dismissive with him, and he left you alone soon after.  

Part of you felt bad for giving him a hard time. You knew he had saved you after the explosion. He’d likely gone out of his way to find you and pull you out of the rubble, but you couldn’t help it.

You were still salty about his part in your re-capture. Not to mention the fact that he’d given you temporary Compound V against your will. 

And speaking of which…

You sat on your new bed and looked down at your arms and hands, clenching and unclenching your fists. What mystery power had V24 given you?

As basic as it was, you felt…strong. Like you could run a marathon without stopping. Like you could punch straight through that wall, and not even feel it. You felt more than just confidence coursing through your veins, like no one and nothing could stand in your way.

Was this how Ben felt all the time? If so, you could almost understand why he could be such an asshole. 

But you also thought of how he’d been with you for the past couple of weeks; how much he’d shared with you about his parents, about his life before becoming Soldier Boy. And yes, how he’d saved you more than once. 

It just didn’t change the fact that he took you—away from your friends, and your chance at freedom. 

True to his word, Frank delivered a bag of clothes to your door about two hours after he’d left you in your new room.

You opened the door just enough to snatch the bag out of his hand, before closing the door in his face. You heard his tired huff on the other side, but soon enough, he walked away from your door. 

So you took your time in the shower, scrubbing grime and blood out of your hair, off your skin and from under your nails. Then you dressed in a shirt and some yoga pants from the bag Frank gave you.

And you tried not to miss the house in the mountains while you wandered this one. You opened every door you came across, finding more guest rooms, a laundry room, the kitchen.

But you stopped once you reached the gym, complete with an elliptical, a couple of treadmills, hand weights, a sparring mat, and a large punching bag.  

Venturing inside, you found some sports tape to wrap up your hands. Then you wandered over to the punching bag. With a resigned sigh, you aligned your hips correctly, bending your knees with your fists raised up to your chest. And then, steeling yourself, you tested out your strength with a single punch. 

It sent the punching bag flying on its chain and hitting the wall. A loud thump echoed through the room, even making you flinch. 

Yep. Definitely got super strength, you thought with a frown. Basic, but useful, you supposed. 

“Whoa,” Ben said with a chuckle. You turned your head and found the man leaning casually in the doorway. He was out of his uniform, freshly washed, and wearing a plain black shirt and dark wash jeans. It was a more modern look for him. You couldn’t help eyeing him from head to toe.

His sharpening grin told you that he noticed.

“At least you got something good,” he remarked. 

“Leave me alone,” you groused. You threw another punch. This one tossed the bag hard and created a massive indent and several hairline cracks in the wall. 

Feeling a suspect prickle across the back of your neck, you twisted and aimed your next punch behind you. Ben caught your fist with an amused grin. You found it damn infuriating. 

So you tossed out a left hook. He evaded it with a tilt of his head, but when he pushed you back, you actually felt his strength behind it. It only forced you a couple of steps back though. 

Ben baited you with a beckoning hand and a cocky smirk. “Take your best shot, sweetheart.” 

You narrowed your eyes. If nothing else, you were going to wipe that smirk off his bearded face. 

He let you come at him first, blocking your first and second blow before throwing a punch of his own. You grabbed his wrist and put all your strength in cracking your elbow into his face, making his head snap back with a grunt. 

Ben’s hand went to his nose, and actually came away bloody. He hummed, and his gaze flicked up at you. It was your turn to smirk. You got back into your ready stance and tilted your head at him in challenge. 

Ben chuckled and rolled his neck. “All right, baby doll. I’ll give you that one.”

“You don’t have to give me anything,” you retorted.

You ducked his attempt to grab you and drove a knee into his gut. Then you stepped between his feet, breaking his stance and his balance by flipping him over your shoulder. You just didn’t expect him to drag you down with him.   

The two of you tussled across the ground, rolling off the sparring mat and onto the hard wood floor. Ben managed to pin you down for a moment, but apparently, you’d been endowed with superior flexibility as well. You grabbed his neck and kneed him in the ribs with all the force you could muster. 

Ben uttered an annoyed grunt. He flinched and unwittingly allowed you the opening you needed to wrap your thighs around his hips and flip you both over—until you were the one pinning him down. 

You knew he wasn’t trying his hardest, however. He was trying to subdue you, not fight you for real, or he would’ve thrown you off by now. He was going easy on you, and it made you irrationally angry.

So you slapped him. Ben blinked and looked up at you, incredulous. 

“Oh, you better be fucking careful—” 

You cut him off with another slap. “Fight me!” 

Ben grabbed your wrist before you could slap him again. His green eyes glittered dangerously, but you stared down at him, unafraid.

Both of you were breathing hard. You were straddling his waist, your free hand braced on the floor by his head. A line of sweat rolled down from your cheek to your neck. His eyes followed the path of it down your shirt.

By the time his hot gaze snapped up to yours, you knew you were in trouble. And there would be no escape. 

Ben hooked a hand on the back of your neck and crashed your lips against his. You slapped a hand against the floor, but you didn’t pull away. You did demand from him in turn, forcing your tongue into his mouth and grabbing at his hair. 

Ben wrenched up your shirt, and you helped him raise it over your head, followed by his shirt and belt. He sat up enough to drag your yoga pants down your thighs, while you broke open the button and zipper of his jeans. 

His lips attached themselves to your neck, sucking and biting until you cried out in his ear. You gripped his hair tight when his thick fingers found their way between your folds and slipped inside you.

Your sighs turned into moans of pleasure as his fingers worked you over, gathering your wetness and rolling over your clit roughly. 

“Ah, shit,” you uttered. All you heard from him were his sharp breaths as he concentrated. 

You instinctively squeezed his hips tight between your thighs. You knew he could get you off just like this, but you were too impatient. You stopped his hand and pushed him down, and with your newfound superhuman strength, you were actually able to do it. 

His back hit the ground with a thud, and he smirked up at you, letting you tug his jeans and boxer briefs down. 

You didn’t stop until his cock was freed, and once you positioned yourself, you sunk down, burying him into your wet heat. Both of you groaned in relief, and your inner walls tightened around him on reflex.

Ben’s grip on your hips became crushing. Had you been normal, it would’ve broken your bones. “Fuck. Gonna take me for a ride, baby girl?” 

“Hell, yeah,” you said, panting for breath. “Buckle the fuck up.”

You were surprised that he was letting you stay on top, but his eyes were alight with desire. You braced your hands on his shoulders and began, rolling your hips at a slow, deep, almost torturous pace. Ben’s head snapped against the floor in frustration, his eyes closing.

“Christ. If you don’t fucking move, I’m gonna do it for you—”

You snapped your hips hard, cutting him off from his words with a guttural sound. Your own release was building. You could taste it, but you could also admit, while pleasant, this pace wasn’t going to cut it. Bracing a hand on his chest, you increased the tempo of your rolling hips. 

Ben’s hands reached up to palm your breasts over your bra, then forcibly freed them without taking it off. You gave a pleased sound when he roughly squeezed and rolled his thumbs over pert nipples. Your hands wandered down his chest, over his arms, whatever you could reach. 

Then Ben’s jaw clenched, and he sat up with you in his lap. You felt his body tensing beneath you. With little warning, he spilled hot inside you. You gasped at the feeling of him, then at his insistent fingers above your entrance, roughly rubbing at your clit. Soon enough, you came along with him.

Gasping for breath, you clung to his shoulders. Both of you were dewy with sweat. Your bra was tucked up all the way into your shoulders, and neither of you had been able to completely slip out of your pants. His hair was wild, as was yours, you were sure. 

Ben’s hands pressed against your lower back, and his cock was still bottomed out inside you. But all you could do was hold onto him.

“See?” Ben said. His voice was deep and full of grit in your ear. “Isn’t it better this way?” 

Your brows furrowed, and you pulled away enough to see his face. 

“You…you prefer me as a supe, don’t you?” you said. Ben’s mouth closed, but he rose a brow as if to say, why not?

You finally noticed the deep cracks in the wall, the small craters in the floor under your knees, and by Ben’s head. There was still a bit of blood congealed around his nose from when you’d hit him.

“This isn’t me,” you said, though you hated how your voice shook. Emotion burned in your eyes, threatening to create tears.

You let go of his shoulders and slid off of him, pulling on your yoga pants and tugging down your bra. Ben watched you from his seat on the floor, with a tensing of his jaw and knitted brows. 

“I don’t know if you just like playing with me, or if you actually care about me,” you said, scooping up your shirt. Your eyes met his with an angry glare. 

“But if you ever give me Compound V against my will again, I’ll never forgive you.”

Butcher stared into his fifth of whiskey, already anticipating his second. If nothing else, Soldier Boy kept a well-stocked liquor cabinet. 

While the CIA combed through the half-ruined mansion, Butcher sat in the kitchen while Hughie and Annie’s arguing grated on his ears.

“She fucking took my gun, had this crazy look in her eye, like she was gonna talk Soldier Boy down. By herself,” said Hughie. “But her exact words were, he’s not what you think he is.”

“She saved me,” Annie said. “She wouldn’t just go with him.”

“She went willingly,” said Butcher. “Ain’t no other reason why she’s alive.”

“Nah, man,” M.M. said. He shook his head, then rested it on a thoughtful fist. “I saw it. One of his guys pulled her out after the blast. He took her.”

“But for what? Why would they want to keep her?” Annie said incredulously. 

“You think, maybe…Soldier Boy likes her?” Hughie asked.     

Butcher considered that with a dark chuckle, then a long sip of his whiskey. 

“We can work with that,” he said. “O’ course, now we got Black-fucking-Noir to deal with as well. Question is: was he after us, or Soldier Boy?”

Trust M.M. to address the elephant in the room. 

“And how the hell is that motherfucker alive?” he added.

Ben was contemplating that very same question. He sat at an old mahogany table in a stuffy old room, while his men argued in front of him. 

“He had regenerative abilities,” Saul reasoned. “Vought probably got him to a hospital after Homelander left him for dead.”

“No way, man. I heard his fucking intestines were hanging out of his stomach like a goddamn fish,” said Loco. 

“Maybe it wasn’t him,” Frank suggested. 

“No,” Ben said. He had his chin propped on his fist. “It wasn’t him. Not the real Noir.”

He didn’t know how he knew, but it was a gut feeling. Whoever that had been behind that black mask, he was strong. As strong as Homelander had been, which made Ben’s gears turn on the possibilities… 

“Saul.” Ben looked up at his subordinate. “Assemble a team. You’re going back to the States for some reconnaissance. I want to know exactly what the fuck Vought did, and what else they’ve got in their fucking arsenal. If Stan Edgar’s after me, then he’s gonna get it up the ass.”

He should’ve never let that little weasel get even an inch of a hold back into him. Now Stan thought he was going to double cross him? Again? 

Yeah, fucking right. The thought stirred the rage in Ben’s blood…but he forced it down to a low simmer. This time, he would be smarter about this. 

Stan had a bad habit of playing God. Ben wanted to know how he did it this time…though that same gut was telling him that he already knew.

No matter how you tossed and turned, the chemicals of V24 still coursing through your blood wouldn’t allow you to sleep. 

After another fruitless hour, you turned onto your side. This time, you had a room with an old-fashioned alarm clock on the nightstand. It read close to two in the morning. 

You huffed and dragged yourself out of bed, but you didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas before you slipped on your sneakers and left the confines of your room. 

You still weren’t being watched, but you knew better than to try and escape either. You noted the newly installed surveillance cameras in every hallway and every room. 

You wandered a bit aimlessly, but somehow, your feet took you down to the kitchen. There you found Ben, sitting at the kitchen table with his third beer. To be fair, you were sure it was like water to him. 

He looked up at you when you came in, making you stop short. You weren’t sure where you stood with him after today. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to be in his presence.  

But when he gestured to the empty seat in front of him, you found yourself grabbing a beer from the fridge and joining him at the table. 

“Can’t sleep?” you asked. It wasn’t the first time, and Ben was just as evasive. His eyes roamed your face before they returned to his beer. 

Regardless, you suspected what his answer might’ve been if he were honest. Because that moment—calling his name, seeing that nuclear light, pushing Annie out of the way, being pulled back into the world by searing pain in your side—it was keeping you up too.

“What do you feel when your chest lights up?” you asked. Maybe it was too bold of you, but right now, you felt confident enough in your super strength to test him.

Ben’s gaze found yours dryly. 

“Hot,” he replied. 

“Well, yeah. You’re pretty much radioactive,” you quipped. “I’ll be surprised if I don’t have fucking cancer yet.” 

He frowned at you in annoyance while you sipped at your beer. 

You hummed, tapping your nails on the glass in contemplation. “Maybe Vought could help you neutralize it. Even I can admit, they have some of the best scientists in the world on their payroll.”

“I wouldn’t let Vought handle a cup of my fucking piss, let alone poking and prodding and studying my fucking blood,” Ben snapped. He wouldn’t be anyone’s fucking lab rat. Not again.

“Like an experimental drug, for example. Given to you against your will,” you wryly supplied. But your voice was edged with agitation.

Ben’s face tightened into a glare. “If you wanna say something, fucking say it.”

You could later admit, you lost your temper then. You shoved away from the table, too angry to even take your beer with you.

“You know, you still haven’t even apologized!” you said. But before you could leave, Ben’s chair scraped across the ground as he stood and grabbed your wrist. He tugged you back to face him, and he stood looming over you with a steely frown.

“You want a fucking apology for saving your miserable life?” he asked. 

“If I’m miserable, it’s only because of you,” you spat. 

Ben scoffed, though his grip on your wrist tightened. “We both know that’s a lie.” 

You just stared up at his face and spewed words you knew you didn’t mean.

“You don’t know anything about me, Ben.” 

His body was wound tight, his frown tight and almost sneering. You were furious—at his smugness, at your inability to completely hate him. But you both faltered once your eyes met his. 

When his lips once again crashed against yours, you opened your mouth to him, pulling him down to you by his shirt.

Ben dragged you flush against him, first by your hips, then by your hair. He forced your head back so he could deepen the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours. 

His fingers then pressed their claiming marks into your side, in the same spot where you were stabbed this morning. Where you had only been healed with the chemicals still coursing through your veins. 

That thought alone cut through the intoxication of his kiss, and made you remember yourself.

You pushed hard against his chest. You were still strong enough to force him back a step or two. Ben stared back at you in irritation. 

“What’s your fucking problem?” he shouted. “Would you rather I’d let you bleed out on the fucking floor?”

“I know! I know I would be dead,” you said, matching his volume.  

No matter how you felt about Compound V, there was no doubt, he’d saved your life. 

But what you’d said to him then still stood. 

“If you hadn’t tried to waste Black Noir with a power you can’t control, then I wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. That’s the definition of collateral damage,” you said. 

Ben crossed his arms defensively. 

“You’re the one who jumped in front of the bullet like a goddamn moron,” he said. “Ain’t my fucking fault if you get yourself killed.”

And just like that, your anger faded…into dismay.

He might very well care about you, but in many ways, he was still an asshole. And you were exhausted.

“Fine, Ben.” You blinked past the well of tears burning in your eyes, but your refused to let them fall. 

After you turned away from him, you didn’t see how his face fell, with both disappointment and guilt breaking through his anger. Your next words would sear into his mind for days to come. 

“Just leave me the hell alone.”

AN: 🤭 Please don't hate me! loll They'll get back on track soon enough...

Next Time:

“Why are you trusting me with this?” you asked. 

Ben’s lips quirked wryly, but there was little humor in it. His hand, half-covered by his glove, reached up to brush your chin. 

“I’m not,” he replied. “I expect you’ll jump at the chance to get back with Butcher and your asshole friends. But either way, I’m gonna find out if you were worth it.” 

Keep Reading: PART 10

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

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[essentiallyleaf]

day 12. praise kink. with. choerry.

944 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x female reader, praise kink, pet names, public masturbation, oral sex, squirting, welcome to fluff central.

notes.

just trying something out. a permanent state of being at this point. exploratively, leaf.

It was the first time she tried ice skating, that day. A regular Saturday morning at the mall, wearing layers upon layers just to end up feeling way too hot. As regular as any day spent with Yerim can be. Her favorite part was when she was holding onto the barrier for dear life, but you managed to push her off of it a handful of times. Anytime you did, you helped her precarious balance by guiding her with your hands in hers, or on her waist. That was your favorite part.

“So, how was it? Did you like it?”

“I fell fourteen times, dude! I managed to fall as I was reaching for the cup of coffee you were giving me, and I was standing still! What do you think?” She said while laughing enthusiastically.

She didn’t like it at all, and she had the time of her life.

“I think you did great”

-

“How about you take me on a real date?”

“A what?”

“You know what they say about Paris…”

“That for each person there’s two rats?”

“That it’s the city of- wait, WHAT?”

She dragged you to a terrace bar in Montmartre, the sun was just setting, blues and oranges meeting on the roofs from the Sacré-Cœur down to the Louvre, giving the city a slightly wistful aura (it was hella expensive, but what isn’t, there? Plus, you’re okay splurging, if it’s for Yerim). It wasn’t sad, it was just cool, and dreamy. It was romantic. A postcard-worthy place to share your first kiss. It wasn’t for your first, but for your fourth that she asked a local to take a picture of it. It felt very awkward, both of you were laughing the whole time.

“Sorry if I taste like alcohol”

She usually doesn’t drink, so she felt really self-conscious about it. You found that endearing. The flavor had a deep cerise, leaning purple tint and resembled some kind of fruit, you couldn’t really pinpoint which.

“You taste like heaven”

-

You went to the lake together for a weekend trip in April. You convinced her to go on a hike on the first day (“You said there wouldn’t be any scary cliffs!” “Come on, it’s barely even a drop, you can do it! Just take my hand!” “You ugly liar!” “I am only one of those two, and you know which”; she always falls for stupid flirty lines like that), she was so tired at the end of it, so she decided that both of you would spend the next day relaxing. Relaxing ended up meaning hiding behind a large tree near the hotel and raising her cute white long flowery dress to her waist for you to finger her while your tongues met.

“You can stay silent while we do this, right?”

“Uhm…”

“Want a hand?”

“Yes, please…”

You put your other hand on her mouth and started sucking down her clavicle to her cleavage as you picked up the pace. She kept whimpering the whole time and even let a high pitched scream into your palm as she came. In the (very real) event that someone heard her, at least they had the decency to not show that.

“You did amazing, baby”

She really didn’t. Old couples kept looking sideways at the two of you for the rest of the day, and you had the feeling it wasn’t just because you were a lesbian couple in the conservative countryside. But you know she needed to hear that.

-

She likes putting make-up on even when she’s staying home; she says she finds it fun, at some point both of you silently acknowledged that she also just wants to look good for you. And God, does she look beautiful with that exaggerated orange-pink blush on her cheeks. Or, actually, maybe it was just the wine that gave her face that amazing glow. You couldn’t really tell, you also had your fair share of glasses. You also don’t remember much of what happened before that sexy blush-tinted face found itself between your legs and was hit by a couple of little squirts as Yerim brought you to orgasm only using her tongue. What you do remember, is that all you wanted after that was to reciprocate the favor.

“Thank you, thank you so much, baby,” you panted out. “So good for me, that was so good”

“Hehe~”

The time of her life. This time though, with that slutty make-up, girl cum dripping from her features, it looked lewd.

“Now just lay back on the couch and stay still, honey, you don’t have to do anything else, okay?”

“Okayy~”

“Nice and cozy, just be my good girl and relax, yeah?”

She could only moan back as soon as you started eating her out. You couldn’t just give up on talking altogether though, so you compensated for the lack of oral stimulation with your fingers anytime you detached your lips from her core.

“Are you close, sunshine?”

Her adorable little whiny noises answered for her.

“Then I need you to do one thing for me, hm? Just one thing. I need you to let it go and cum for me, don’t restrain, sweetie”

When she cums, it’s a hurricane. Of spasms, screams, and sprays of transparent liquid coming your way.

“Yes, baby, so good. Let it all out, my baby cherry.” That’s what she tasted like. “My perfect baby cherry. Come here”

You surrounded her in a warm embrace and covered the two of you with her oversized zip-up hoodie. As you kissed her blushed cheek, Yerim looked like she was already asleep.

“You did awesome, cherry girl. You are so perfect”

-

footnotes.

sorry for bad dialogue. cheesily, leaf.

[wild-typo-turtle]

Threads - Part 4

Explicit (slow burn, 18+ only) - Rings of Power - Gil-galad x OFC (Elf)

Includes S2E8 of Rings of Power - spoilers ahoy!

Gil-galad had only taken a handful of steps when his gaze passed over yet another collapsed building. From the looks of things, it had once been an open, airy shop that had faced directly into the plaza. The roof had caved in, creating dusty shadows, and even his keen eyes might have missed the slumped figure had he not heard the tiny whimper from the darkness.

Eregion has been destroyed; Sauron is gone. And yet, the sun still shines, as the ruined city holds the last thing that High King Gil-galad had ever expected to find.

Themes: #Idiots in love, #love at first sight, #soulmates, #smut with feelings, #fix-it, #everybody lives

Content Warnings: Explicit content eventually (slow burn), canon-typical violence

Tag List: @morganas-pendragons, @stellar-solar-flare

Dreamcasting: Keri Russell as Linnea

Part 1 (includes A/N and credits)

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

It was late afternoon before they reached Lindon, and the trees shone brightly enough with the setting sun to take Linnea’s breath away.

The city’s beauty was enough all on its own. The approach was over a bridge, spanning the waterfalls that fed into the gulf of Lhûn, and if she craned her neck, she could see the great golden Tree reaching out over the water. White towers rose over the leafy canopies of the forest; Lindon had been built around it, for no Elf would fell a tree for so pitiful a reason as wanting to put something else in its place. Instead, the city was woven through the glades and natural clearings.

She could see the palace, too. Or at least what she assumed was the palace: the tallest and largest of the buildings, rising high.

Her new home.

“Have you never seen it before, my lady?”

The soldier driving the wagon that day was named Landir, and he had been the friendliest of the group to her. She wondered if he might be angling for a place as her permanent guard; she would not object if that were the case, given his amicable disposition. It would certainly be more prestigious for him than being a common soldier, and probably easier too. 

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “My parents would come here to trade our weavings, sometimes. But I never joined them.”

They rolled through the main gate, Arondir in the lead on his horse, and then the other two mounted soldiers behind the wagon. As they passed, Linnea watched the guards on the ground carefully, wondering whether the news had spread - but there were no searching eyes, no one looking curiously for the lady that had captured their king’s heart. They might have been a small company of merchants, or something equally as anonymous. 

Perhaps she would have a few days’ respite. Time to settle in. But they would all know soon enough, and part of her wanted to hasten that along; she wanted to stand on the cart and shout it out across the entire city. 

I love him. I am his, and he is mine. 

But she stayed seated, and settled for smiling to herself. Her attention was caught, however, as the hoofbeats behind them suddenly increased, and a moment later, one of the soldiers from the rear guard passed them at a gallop. 

Linnea looked over at Landir, raising a brow, and he offered her a smile. “We have instructions to take you directly to the palace, my lady. Hellathas rides ahead to inform them that we have arrived.”

Of course they did. She had assumed so, more or less, but had not put exact thoughts to the vague notions. And she certainly didn’t know her own way around, at least not yet.        

And Gil-galad would want to know that they had made it to Lindon safely.

Her hands trembled, and she clasped them together in her lap to hide it.  

The ride to the palace was pleasant and easy - and what was more, it gave Linnea a chance to observe the citizens of Lindon going about their daily business. It was very clear that she'd need to do something about her clothes, sooner rather than later; she had found a few of her dresses, undamaged and still serviceable, but they were good sturdy wool and linen. Artisan’s clothes, in muted and simple colors, like those that most of the inhabitants of Eregion wore. The fabrics had been woven by her own hands; fine enough, certainly, but not the silks and satins and velvets that surrounded her now. And jewels everywhere. 

Yes, she would need to do something. Thankfully, one of the chests in the wagon contained almost all of the weavings from the shop that had been finished; the heavy, strong ironwood had protected the stored fabrics, and they had all survived intact. She would have plenty to trade for a new wardrobe, or at least the start of one.  

While she had been musing, the road they traveled had begun to ascend, gradually climbing as it wound its way through the forests. It was surprisingly narrow for a route to the palace, and she wondered if Arondir was taking them some sort of back way. If so, she was grateful; buying some more time to settle in before she had to face the entire court didn’t sound like a bad thing at all. She made a mental note to thank him if that had been his intent.

And then it became very, very difficult to think anything at all.

The path had taken them up a gently sloping hill, and as they reached the top, she found herself in a charming courtyard. It looked private, and as she’d wondered, it seemed to be somewhere in the back of the palace - she could see the bulk of the building off to the west and the north, as well as the high towers reaching above the trees. The section in front of her was comprised of several arched windows with small open balconies, and there was a set of stone stairs leading up to a pair of double doors with their own wide terrace.

Which was occupied by Gil-galad.

It felt, simultaneously, like her heart had stopped and like it was about to beat its way free of her chest, as Landir drew the wagon to a halt. The last time she’d seen him, he had been in armor, the warrior King, still beautiful but grim with purpose. But now he was dressed in all his finery: a wide-sleeved gold robe that fell to the ground and then some, a lapped gold girdle around his waist that was accented with jeweled stars, and a gold shirt beneath the robe, the fabric traced with a delicate pattern of leaves. And of course, his crown, shining atop his dark hair.

She really needed to do something about her clothes. 

But the moment that his eyes found hers, and he smiled, none of that mattered in the slightest.

He didn’t run. He walked at a slow, measured pace, descending the stairs with every ounce of the dignity of the High King of the Noldor. His robe trailed down the steps behind him, and his two guards followed him only a few feet back. She felt frozen on the wagon seat, her eyes fixed on him, watching as he crossed the courtyard. By some unspoken signal, the guards halted well before he did, allowing him to take the last steps alone.

Gil-galad stopped by the wagon, raising his eyes to her. Dark brown, liquid pools, and in them, she saw every word he had put to paper, and several more. Words that she’d never thought to hear from anyone, much less someone like him. But there they were, writ plain as day.

He lifted a hand, palm up, offering it to her. 

In a daze, she stood and took it, gathering her skirts and letting him support her as she stepped down. And once she was on the ground, he did not let go, but reached for her other hand as well, bringing them to his lips and kissing first one and then the other.  

“Maedol ni mâr dhín, melethel.”

Welcome home, beloved.

She couldn’t stop staring at him.

The sight of him was as intoxicating as the finest wines, and she doubted her eyes would ever drink their fill. They certainly hadn’t yet, as he led her into the palace with her hand tucked gently in the crook of his elbow - all she could do was stare at him, barely aware of the bridgeways and corridors that they walked through.

He noticed, and a corner of his mouth quirked up as he leaned in to whisper to her. “What draws your eye, my lady?”

Linnea laughed softly, caught out. Part of her felt too shy to speak, but the rest - if his thoughts had been even half as unsettled as her own, confronted with so much change, he deserved to hear any reassurance she could give.

“You,” she whispered back. “Just you.”

His smile widened, and his arm flexed, tightening around her hand.  

She hadn’t wanted to ask where they were going; Gil-galad obviously had a destination in mind, and she would deprive him of no joy in beginning to show her around. But it seemed that the walk was ending; they had reached a tower and had climbed many stairs, and at last had stopped at a door - and a nod from Gil-galad had the guards taking up positions along the landing outside. 

And so, when he pushed open the door, they stepped in alone. Entirely, gloriously, alone.  

The rooms they entered were lovely and open. Even in the faint light of dusk, it was easy to see that they would be wonderfully bright when the sun came up. As high as they were, the trees were higher; Linnea could see branches right outside the arched windows, glowing golden in the setting sun. The space was circular, and at a guess, it took up at least half of the level of the tower, with windows around the entire edge.

It was divided into several different areas. The door had opened into a sitting room, and beyond, she could see a sleeping alcove. Everything was beautiful; the rooms were furnished elegantly, the pieces few but exquisite. 

At some point, she had released Gil-galad’s arm, and her steps had carried her several feet into the room almost without her knowing. She stopped at the fireplace, turning back to Gil-galad where he had remained next to the door, feeling her lips parted in an expression of surprise and wonder. 

He smiled, guessing her question.    

“There were no queen’s chambers,” he murmurs. “But these rooms are directly beneath my own. I had them prepared for you.”

She noticed then, as she faced him, the discreet staircase tucked into a corner of the sitting room. A staircase that, from what he had just said, would take her up to his rooms without the need to exit her own. She could go to him - or he could come to her - as they pleased, without the need for guards to move and all of the production that went along with it. A precious sliver of privacy, in what was about to become a very public existence. 

“If anything is not to your liking,” he added, “you have only to say the word.” 

Her throat felt tight and hot. Her eyes, too. She felt too full, like her skin might split open in a failure to contain everything it was struggling to hold in. 

Linnea swallowed hard.

She retraced her steps, walking slowly back toward him. His eyes locked on her face, searching for a sign of approval, but she didn’t say a word until she was standing right in front of him.

“You think far too highly of me,” she choked out, “if you think I can speak now.”

He let out a breath, and she could hear the relief in it. She could only imagine how it had been for him over the last days, making sure she would have a home here, ensuring her comfort, all the while trying to wrap his head around the fact that she existed. That he had found her every bit as much as she had found him.

More words were not possible. But she could offer something else, something that she’d been longing for ever since they’d parted.

She reached up, taking his face in her hands, and pulled his head down to hers.  

When they finally climbed the staircase, Linnea discovered that Gil-galad’s rooms were shaped much like hers. He too had a sitting room, although much larger, and also a small private dining room. There was a study, with an angled writing desk and shelves full of scrolls and books, and his sleeping alcove held a large, wide bed.

Big enough for two.

Her cheeks tingled, imagining that part of marriage. Not just being intimate, but the simple act of sharing a bed - Ereinion’s tall body next to hers, warm and strong. Would she fall asleep in his arms; would he hold her through the hours of the night?

There was so much to discover.

But in the meantime, a delicious aroma was tickling her nose, and it was coming from that cozy dining room. 

Gil-galad had moved over to the fireplace, standing out of the way and watching her take all of it in. He looked apprehensive again, and she wondered how many others had ever seen his private rooms. True, the sitting area and the dining room were fitted out so that he could entertain if he wished, but perhaps he deliberately avoided doing so. Perhaps this was his sanctuary, and he only allowed a chosen few through its doors.

Now it would be theirs.

Linnea turned to him, offering him a gentle smile. “Something smells wonderful.”   

“I thought you might be hungry,” he murmured. “And the idea of sharing a quiet meal and hearing about your travels was…very pleasing.”

Indeed it was. 

She moved into the dining room then, seeing a sideboard laid with covered platters, and the table set for two. All without her having to lift a finger. And the food was just as beautiful as everything else; she filled her plate with delicate white fish that swam in a silky, buttery sauce, along with sliced vegetables and a heap of fresh salad. There was wine, too - a red that burst forth with fruit the moment she filled her glass.

This, perhaps more than anything, felt like coming home. 

The way that Gil-galad settled down next to her with his own food felt like the most natural thing in the world. As if they’d done the same many times before, and this was just one more dinner in a string of them. No different than the night before, or the night that would come, or the next hundred years.

Before she took her first bite, she reached over, taking his hand and squeezing it. The touch made him smile, and he brought the hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across the back.

“Tell me of the journey,” he said softly, as he released her hand. “How did you find the roads?”

Linnea raised a brow at him as she picked up her fork. “Commander Arondir did not keep you informed?”

“He did indeed,” Gil-galad allowed. “But I thought to hear my lady’s opinions as well.”

Her cheeks heated, and she couldn’t keep a smile from curling her lips. “Then far be it from me to deny you,” she murmured. “The roads were in good order, and we were untroubled by orcs, for the most part. There was an encounter on the fifth day, but as they were only two, they were dispatched easily.”

He nodded; she wasn’t telling him anything he hadn’t learned from Arondir’s reports, that much was clear. “Now that Eregion is destroyed, we must consider how to maintain a watch over the eastern reaches,” he said, taking a bite from his plate. “Once Imladris is built, it will serve, but it may be wise to re-garrison the watchtowers at the Mitheithel Fords and the Baranduin in the meantime. Were the enemy to approach Lindon, that is the likeliest route. Unless you would suggest another, my lady.”

She stared at him for a moment, fork loose in her hand. “I - my lord, I am a weaver. I am no soldier, no commander.”

“Yet the eastern lands were your home,” he said gently. “You know them well. I welcome your input - in all things, lady. You have a seat on the council, if that is your wish.”

Linnea took a deep breath, reaching for her wine glass to buy herself a moment. She understood the honor he was giving her, but it was one more thing that was so different than the life she had known. Sitting on the council, her voice could determine great matters, could cost - or save - lives. 

It was a far cry from waking in the morning and deciding which loom she would sit at that day, which fabric she would make progress on.

But she was going to be queen. And the council would be a good place to begin to learn about those great matters. She had a responsibility to their subjects; they deserved a queen that was wise and well-informed.

“I - I think I would like that,” she murmured. “If it would not offend the other Elf lords.”

“If they are offended by the presence of their queen, they may choose to be elsewhere,” he said dryly.

She chuckled softly, raising a brow at him again. “My lord, that title is not mine to claim yet,” she reminded him.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, in seeming recognition of her point. And his hand briefly brushed his chest, just at the place where his robe overlapped - as if touching something beneath it.

“But it is mine to bestow,” he murmured. “If you are finished, there is something I would like to show you, melethel.”

Linnea looked down, and was surprised to find her plate empty. She looked back up, and nodded, and Gil-galad rose, extending a hand.

“Come.”

Not even her ears could hear what he said to the guards. But as they reached their destination, the soldiers stayed at the top of the path, remaining well distant from the great Tree.

She had never seen it before - only that one glimpse at a distance, as they had arrived. Up close it was infinitely more beautiful, the moon shining through the golden leaves and glimmering off Gil-galad’s golden robes.

He took her up onto the dais, right next to the Tree. The waterfall thundered next to them, making its way down to the gulf of Lhûn, and she was wide-eyed like a child at the sight. The symbol for Elvendom on earth - the very picture of their strength, their vitality.

“It's beautiful,” she murmured. “May I - ?”

He nodded, and she laid her palm against the thick trunk. Whispers, faint and distant, but nothing she could make out. But there was definitely a presence to the tree, unlike anything she’d ever felt.

She dropped her hand, turning back to face Gil-galad, and smiled. “Thank you for bringing me here,” she said softly. “I had always hoped to see the Tree - but whenever my parents came to Lindon, there were always things to occupy me in Eregion. It seemed so easy to think each time that next time I would come.”

“I often thought the same of Eregion,” he answered, equally softly. He had taken his crown off before they had left his rooms, and his dark hair shone with the moonlight and the starlight. “Lord Celebrimbor encouraged me to visit. Yet he seemed to always have matters in hand.”  He sighed. “Would that I had heeded his words. For many reasons. Not the least of which, that I might have met you sooner.”

Linnea reached down, gently taking his hands. “You visited once,” she murmured. “I saw you across the plaza. It was many years ago, and you were surrounded by your lords and soldiers. But I did see you, just a glimpse.”

Gil-galad nodded, giving her a small smile. “I recall it. I was occupied with matters of trade. Had I been paying more attention to my surroundings, perhaps I might have seen your shop.” His smile turned slightly teasing. “Perhaps I might have stopped to admire your work, and lost my heart in the process.”

“I would have made you a gift in its place,” she teased back. “A blanket for your bed, or a new cloak.” 

There were more words, hanging heavy on her tongue - but there was no reason to be shy, not at this stage. Not with all that had already been spoken between them; not when intents and futures had already been made clear. 

“Along with my own heart,” she said softly. “A gift in kind. Which you have, meleth nín.”

He breathed out, tugging on her hands to pull her closer. She went gladly, feeling him let go of her hands and slide his arms around her waist, and then his forehead came down to press against hers - much the same way as he had held her the first time in the survivors’ camp, standing next to her little fire. A moment so pure and perfect, so fated, that it still brought tears to her eyes to think about it.

“I will do my utmost to be worthy of it,” he whispered. “And so let me make a gift to you now.”

He stepped back from her, and his hand went back to that same place on his robes, but this time it slipped underneath the edge. And when he brought it back out, he was holding a small, pure white velvet pouch. It seemed to glow with a light of its own, shining beneath the stars, nearly sparkling as he opened it and tipped the contents into his palm.

A ring. A silver ring. 

Wordlessly, he extended it to her for her to see. 

Hands shaking, she took it. The center stone was a pearl, with strands of silver wrapping around it almost like a wave, cradling the pearl in their grasp. But there were also tiny diamonds, what had to be dozens of them - and the fashion of their setting changed the pearl, transformed it into the heart of a star, with the diamonds forming rays of starlight.

It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. 

Ereinion’s hands closed gently over hers where they held the ring.

“I did not ask you properly before,” he murmured. “So allow me to ask now. Will you wed me, Linnea, daughter of Taucion and Lhénes? Will you have me as your husband, will you be my wife and my queen until Arda itself is remade?”

Out of everything he had just said, the thing that stunned her most was that he knew the names of her parents. She had no idea how - perhaps he had had the rest of the survivors questioned until he found someone who had known them - but he did, and it made the tears finally spill over and drip down her cheeks.

She knew that he knew her answer. But the fact that he would still ask, had taken the trouble to choose a ring for her - he deserved no less than to hear it. 

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes. I will.”

Now his hands were trembling, as he took the ring with one and clasped hers with the other. She opened her hand to help, and he slid the shining star onto her finger. 

It fit perfectly, snugging down at the base of her hand, fashioned for just that spot and no other.

She didn’t have anything for him - and although she knew he would never expect it, she was not about to deny him any of the traditions. Not when he’d been waiting so much longer, when he must have thought it would never happen for him. It was uncommon at best for someone of her age to wed, much less him. No, he would have a ring; she would see to that as soon as possible.

But he did not seem to be thinking about anything of the sort at that moment; he brought her newly-adorned hand to his lips and kissed it, his mouth lingering in a way that made her toes curl.

It struck her then, as he lifted his head, why he’d taken the crown off. With the crown, he was the High King - and he still was without it, of course, but it wasn’t quite so there. It was easier to think of him as just Ereinion without it, and that was who he’d wanted to be as he asked.

He drew the hand he’d just kissed to his chest, holding it close against his heart. “I am yours to command in this, my lady,” he murmured. “And you need not answer now, but give thought as to your will. We need not wait a year if you do not desire it.”

Her eyes were still brimming, but she had to laugh at his easy discarding of the customary period between betrothal and wedding, even through the tears. “My lord is an eager bridegroom, I see.”

“Were you to ask, I would speak the blessings here upon this very spot, and you would be my wife by tomorrow’s sunrise,” he said softly - and yet, his voice was iron, leaving her no doubt as to his sincerity. “But we need not rush, melethel. We have time to become better acquainted, you and I.”

Part of her - that part that had felt her toes curling at the light brush of his mouth on her hand, that had eagerly returned each of his kisses - was sorely tempted. She could be in his bed, in his arms, in a matter of minutes. They could feed that fire together with the intimacy of marriage; she could know his touch on her, she could touch him.

But the last two weeks had been a great change. As he said, they did not need to rush. And perhaps it was good to remember that they barely knew one another yet. The cup of love was there and brimming full already, but all the rest - all that they had yet to discover about one another, their pasts and their likes and dislikes and routines -  would take time. 

“It is true,” she answered. “But…I do not think it a task that will last a year. Especially not when we have the rest of our days to do so.”

That pleased him; he smiled. “I am sure you wish to settle in to Lindon first. If there is anything you need, you have only to ask.”  

“Tomorrow I must seek out a clothier,” she said. “I was able to save a few of my own clothes, but it is clear that Lindon is very different than Eregion. But I was also able to save many of our finished works; they should be enough for trade. Is there someone that the ladies of the court often use, that I should visit? Or someone I might ask about it?”

He was looking at her with a strange expression, and it took her a moment to identify it - he was confused. He took her hands in his again, gently, making sure he met her eyes.

“Linnea, you need not concern yourself with such things,” he said slowly. “Whatever you may require, all you need do is summon the artisans of your choice. They will come to you - you are their future queen.”

Oh.

That did make sense as to why he was confused. It had probably been an age since he had gone browsing about a marketplace - her ring had likely been obtained just as he had said, a smith summoned to court and commissioned to the task. 

But that felt too different from her old life for it to feel like her. And it gave her the first hint of how she might blend old and new - neither one nor the other, but both, like an alloy of precious metals that was more than its individual parts.

“Meleth nín,” she said softly, “I do not think that is the queen I wish to be. I - I know I have barely begun to consider it, but I would like the city to know me. I wish to be a part of the life here, not to sit above it. At least, when that is possible. And so I must go out and be seen.”

He had listened, and the confusion had gradually faded from his face - and, she was relieved to see, it had been replaced with faint pride. Nothing could break their bond, she knew that, but that bond did not mean they would always be in accord. Marriage would mean compromises across the centuries; there would be things where they would not see eye-to-eye.

But thankfully, this did not appear to be one of them. 

“Then you shall,” he said. “Tomorrow at first light, we shall arrange your household and your guards. And then you may explore the city as you wish. But - “ and here his voice grew stern - “you need not trade for what you require. Lindon will provide for its queen. I will provide for my betrothed. I will not have you surrendering the work of your hands for a mere gown.”

Linnea smiled.

A gown, no. She would concede that point; and, if she was honest, the thought of having to trade away the last fabrics that she and her parents had made had hurt. It was hard to object to any sort of plan that would allow her to avoid that pain.  

But a ring?

That was worth a few fabrics. Especially if it allowed her to keep it secret, until the perfect moment.

“So be it, my lord,” she agreed. “So be it.”

Continue to Part 5

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi!

Can we go a batfamily x fem child reader?

Reader is like the personification of Gotham

Reader take strolls around Gotham to help people

Reader she's like prim and proper and elegant

Reader who's a little insane and a bit mad

Reader who had a old and dark mansion at the end of Gotham

Reader who's favorite is red hood

Reader who won't hesitate to kill but she stop herself

Reader who got adopted by the batfam

(Can you base reader of this?)

I’ll try my best with this!

-It was strange, seeing such a young child wandering the streets of Gotham so late at night- you didn’t seem scared at all, as you wandered around, almost like you were exploring.

-Batman was watching you from a rooftop, curious about you, wondering where your parents were and wondering why you weren’t scared as you looked out over the harbor.

-His many adopted children were also curious about you- looking down at you, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin as you were skipping down the road past a group of thugs as Robin spoke, “Is she really that brave, or just stupid?”

-When one of the thugs grabbed you by the back of your dress, hauling you up, they were quickly springing into action, rushing to you.

-Red Hood hit the one holding you and when you landed hard on your butt, everything froze as a minor earthquake shook the city. Nobody paid it any mind as Red Hood grabbed you, holding you up in his arms as they all took care of the thugs.

-When someone managed to hit Red Hood from behind, he went down hard and took you with him, but he did his best to protect you, but once again, when you hit the ground, another earthquake rumbled through before tears welled in your eyes as you realized, “You’re hurt!” the skies, which had been clear, suddenly darkened with clouds, and rain fell as the first tear slipped down your cheek.

-Nightwing was the one to take you from Red Hood, trying to calm you down as just as the rain started with your tears started, it stopped when you calmed down. Batman was curious, seeing that it was a bit odd, as he remembered the earthquakes as well.

-You were taken to the roof by the group with Red Robin and Red Hood going to get food for everyone, including you, and you introduced yourself, “My name is Y/N!”

-Batman was very patient with you, “Where are your parents Y/N?” you tilted your head to the side, like you were confused, “I don’t have any.”

-They all froze, realizing that you were an orphan, but you didn’t seem bothered as Bruce spoke again, “Where do you live then?”

-You stood from Bruce’s arms, looking out over the horizon, to a large mansion that has long been abandoned, being condemned but not destroyed as it was a piece of Gotham history, being the first building in Gotham, “In that house- that’s where I was born and raised!”

-They all shared a look, a bit concerned, thinking you were an abandoned child that was delusional. When the food arrived, Bruce handed you a burger and you smiled, “Thank you Mr. Wayne!”

-They all froze in shock, hearing you calling him by his actual name, Bruce cautiously speaking, “You know who I am?” you didn’t look bothered, smiling up at him and that’s when he noticed that your eyes were much older than what you looked like- like you were an old soul, “You know who I am?”

-You smiled, but it was almost unsettling, “I do- I know each person that has been born in, lived, and died in Gotham. It’s kind of my job.”

-Okay you just went from poor abandoned delusion child to scary really quick. Damien was quickly on guard, ready to fight you if you were deemed a threat as Jason spoke, looking curious, “And what exactly is your job?”

-You beamed as you stood, twirling before facing them, the Gotham skyline behind you, “I am Gotham! Or at least the personification of Gotham.”

-They all froze before Tim spoke up, “Wait so those earthquakes we felt and the rain when you started crying, that was all you?” you nodded, taking your seat again, but this time in Jason’s lap, as you liked him because he protected you, “Yup- when I’m happy it’s sunny and clear, when I’m sad it rains, when I’m mad it storms, and if I get hurt then bad things happen.”

-Batman was curious about you, and the more he heard, the more his internal adoptive impulses were flaring up, but so were the others, as they realized this was true- you were Gotham.

-You accepted their invitation to live with them with little to no hesitation, showing them that you had little to no fear, which was a bit concerning, but you were excited to have a family again!

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Princess

Azriel x f!Reader

One of the series I’m currently working on. Enjoy!

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse and trauma.

Masterlist.

Princess Masterlist.

Chapter 5

You woke up with a smile on your face, you were excited about the training, and you couldn’t even believe that you managed to sleep. The sadistic smile on Azriel’s face flashed in your eyes and your blood boiled. With a huff you got out of bed and got ready for the day. You picked a similar outfit with the one Nesta chose for you the previous day and braided your hair. With one last look at your reflection, you left the room, a smile on your face. You skipped breakfast not wanting to feel nauseous during training. You reached the roof, Nesta, Cassian and Azriel were already there and you took a deep breath before walking up to them. “There she is” Cassian smiled. “Good morning” you spoke.

“Good morning” Nesta smiled and began stretching.

Azriel didn’t even look at you as he fixed the training equipment.

“Stand next to Nesta and copy her moves” Cassian ordered, his eyes moving between the two of you. You did as he asked and began stretching too. Cassian watched you and corrected you when needed.

“Very well, you’re a natural.” He praised making you blush.

“Thank you, I’m just good at following orders.” You replied and his grin turned to a sad smile. Nesta frowned but didn’t speak.

“Where are the other two females?” you asked.

“We wanted to give you some time to adjust so we asked them not to come today” Nesta replied, and you nodded with a thankful look.

After stretching Cassian showed you some fighting moves, he explained that when you would master all of them, you would go into the ring and practice with him or Azriel. You gulped at the thought of sparring with your mate, but you had a few days to think of something to avoid it.

As you did a kick, Azriel came behind you and pushed the back of your knee with his foot making you lose balance and fall on your back with a grunt. He was standing above you with a quirked brow. “Again” he growled.

You got up and tried again without him interrupting, when you relaxed, he kicked your legs and you fell again with a yelp. He snorted and shook his head. You teared up and stared at the ground. Cassian was telling Nesta what she did wrong and didn’t notice what happened, or at least that’s what you thought.

“Get up.” Azriel shouted and stood in front of you.

You did as he ordered, keeping your eyes on the ground. You had felt so confident the previous night, and now you couldn’t even look at him. You felt the hope of becoming strong fading away. How stupid of me to think that I can be someone else. You thought.  Azriel waited for you to begin again.

Your body ached, you lost count of how many times he sent you on the ground.

“Get up we don’t have all day” he said once again. Cassian was staring at the two of you with a frown, while Nesta’s gaze stayed fixed on you. She was waiting for your reaction. You tried to push your self up, suppressing a groan as you stood and making your hands tight fists at your sides. “You know what? I’m done for the day, see you tomorrow” you smiled and turned to leave. “You will stay here until you can master the kick.” Azriel smirked.

You approached him with a bored look on your face, gathering all your power as you landed the kick on his side making him stumble back and gasp.

“I think I’ve got it.” You smiled and left, making your braid swing from side to side as you walked back inside.

Cassian whistled and Nesta burst into laughter.

When you disappeared from their view, you sprinted to your room slamming the door shut and locking. You were breathing heavily as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. You couldn’t believe what you did, your hands trembled, and you prayed to the Cauldron that Azriel wouldn’t come find you.

You felt him pull the bond, and then shove his feelings through it. Rage and something else, something cold and dark. The promise of revenge.

You shivered and headed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face. You were screwed completely screwed.

You spent the rest of the day in your room reading a book about war strategy, you tried all the moves that were described and memorized all the ways to catch someone off guard. You needed all the knowledge you could get in order to survive against the shadowsinger.

Evening came and you got ready for dinner, you didn’t want to show that you were scared so you got dressed and joined the inner circle in the dinning room.

“Y/n I heard you kicked Azriel’s ass today.” Rhysand smirked when you took a seat between Nesta and Feyre.

“His side actually” you giggled and glanced at Azriel. He had a scowl on his face, but you could swear that you saw pride flash in his hazel eyes before the coldness appeared again.

“I would give my soul to see that” Mor exclaimed.

“Do it again” Amren joined the conversation.

Everyone looked amused.

“I didn’t expect it that’s all.” Azriel scoffed and then turned to Rhysand “like you didn’t expect the shoe that Feyre threw on your head.”

You gasped at that as everyone else went hysteric, they laughed so hard that they couldn’t breathe while Feyre glanced around sheepishly.

“Feyre is stronger than most of us” Rhysand exclaimed “y/n had a few hours of training when she handed you your ass on a silver plate”.

Azriel snorted.

“Aw is your ego bruised? Poor Illyrian baby” Nesta cooed and Azriel’s shadows shot up covering their master. “Okay that’s enough” you smiled and started eating.

The rest of the dinner went by smoothly, the house buzzed with laughter and the atmosphere felt warm and soothing. That night you slept with a smile on your face.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next day Azriel kept his distance during training, you did really good, and Cassian said that you will enter the ring in no time. You practiced on your balance and even lifted some weights to work on your muscles. You had a determined look on your face the whole time, huffing when you made a mistake and correcting yourself before Cassian even noticed. You could feel your body getting stronger with every set you finished, the feeling making you more confident.

“We’re done for today” Cassian announced.

You were panting, sweat streaming down your body and your muscles ached.

“I’m so proud of you” Nesta smiled. “Thank you” you replied and grabbed a bottle of water.

“I’m thinking of letting the girls come to training tomorrow. Are you okay with that?” she asked.

“Yeah” you smiled and nodded. “I think its time for me to make some friends.”

“Okay but I need to tell you something” she said and cleared her throat when you nodded.

“I can see that something is going on between you and Azriel so I think you should know that he visited Gwyn’s bedroom last night. I don’t know what he wants from her, but she has feelings for him”.

“There is nothing between me and him. Thank you for telling me though.” You replied and left before she could speak.

Azriel was leaning on the wall next to your door and he stood straight when he saw you.

“Can we talk?” he asked when you reached the door.

You didn’t reply, you just entered your room and slammed the door shut, locking it as quickly as you could.

You cursed under your breath. It’s just the stupid bond that makes you feel jealous. You repeated in your head as you bathed and then dropped on the bed with a groan.

I have to formally reject him.

If I forgot to tag anyone please let me know!

@glitterypirateduck , @zara-aliza08 , @mika-no-sekai-blog , @purpleshoelaces , @act1839 , @fasoaurore , @pinksmellslikelove , @bunnyredgirl , @lectoracronica , @tuggboatfishin , @sunnysideup000 , @blessthepizzaman , @universevsd , @raisinggray , @ssmay123 , @kalulakunundrum , @justasillylittlegoofyguy , @tsunami-of-tears , @just-a-social-casualty-1 , @thelov3lybookworm

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Mamma mia| chapter one

listen to: New Romantics- Taylor Swift | Two Ghosts - Harry Styles (playlist here)

warnings: accidental pregnancy, smut 18+, raising a child alone. warnings will be added as the story progresses. Accident in this chapter, very small.

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fi!!

Three days had passed since summer officially began for you. You were still getting installed into the house with Augustine and James. The second floor of the place was significantly smaller than the first floor but you didn’t mind. Augustine had the biggest room since at the end of the day, she was the one that had put most of the money into the down payment and it was at first not a room but a studio. Either way, your room was perfect for you. Windows from the floor to the roof, facing the ocean, the room was painted with a faint baby blue and it looked perfect, an old-fashion vanity with a bookshelf on the other side. 

Happiness didn’t begin to describe how you felt each time you entered that room. 

It was a sunny day, and the skin of your body was soaked in the sun as you biked through the town. You were still moving some of your things from your parent's house to the beach house, you still needed to get some clothes and at least one painting you wanted to place on your vanity. 

The warmth of the sun seemed to fill your chest as you took a deep breath, your eyes examining the town where you’d grown. It felt different than before, it no longer felt heavy like before you went to New York. Instead, it tasted like paradise. 

And then, you received a text from James. 

Honestly, it was your fault, you shouldn’t be biking and texting but in your defense, it was one second. One moment you had the road completely free and then you were barely running over someone with gold-framed glasses, it was all you could see. Quickly, you tried to turn the handlebar to the right, trying to avoid them and hoping you remained on the road. Unfortunately, you didn’t. The bike got caught up in the sand, and the sudden shift of your weight pushed the bike to the floor, while you went flying. 

You squealed as your body flew through the air, you barely got the chance to close your eyes, instinctively putting your hands up in front of you before you made contact with the sand. A loud ‘oof’ escaped your lips as your wrist twisted painfully, sending a shock through your arm before you were rolling on the sand with a hiss. 

You were dizzy and confused as you heard a scream behind you, your head seemed to be in stereo as you tried to move but your body seemed to be overwhelmed by pain. 

“M’am!” the voice repeated, now you seemed to understand it as you moved your head to the left, and you saw him. The brownish golden locks fell to his forehead as he anxiously crouched over you, checking you. “Are you okay?”

You stared at the boy in front of you. His skin was just starting to get sunkissed but you could see just on the collar of his shirt that his skin had turned red too. It was probably a mistake, you gathered, he didn’t look like the type to be all tanned. His eyes were a beautiful metal blue, deep like the water in the ocean, his eyelashes stumbled against the glass of his gold-framed glasses while they nervously examined. 

“I’m fine,” you lied as you decided to stand up, trying to shake off how your mind was anxiously rambling about how stupid you looked. Suddenly, a shock of pain ran through your forearm, you hissed immediately. 

The boy, man- though he did look too young-, frowned immediately as he looked at you. “You are definitely not okay,” he said. 

Your brows immediately furrowed together. “Don’t you say,” you snapped at him. 

His anxious gaze was suddenly replaced by a doe-eye look, his brows furrowing slightly as he looked at you. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, you could see how the blush started to creep on his cheeks. He cleared his throat as he looked down at your wrist. “Can you let me see your wrist?” 

You hesitated for a moment but he sounded so sincere, the concern clouding his voice was enough for you to offer your hand to him. It wasn’t intended, your body reacted to the feather-like touch of his fingertips on you without any hesitation, goosebumps erupting over your skin. He held your arm as if you were glass and he was afraid to break it but you could see the focus on his features, how his jaw was set as he pressed and turned your wrist. You tried not to flinch, he was being way too careful in your opinion.

“It’s definitely not broken but it is definitely strained,” he finally sighed. 

“Are you a doctor?”

His chin tilted up towards you, his lips quirked up softly. Not enough for a smile, maybe a light smirk. He shook his head. “Oh, no,” he started, and you saw him stuttering slightly. It made you smile. “I just did pre-med when I was younger and first aid courses too,”

You showed him the smallest corner of your smile. “Mr, Doctor,” you teased him. 

His eyes widened immediately, he started to shake his head hurriedly as he gazed at you. He was still holding your hand softly but you could feel how he tensed up. “No, I’m,”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m kidding,” you said, a smile now drawn on your face. 

His eyes widened. “Oh,” his lips turned to a line for a second, and then nodded softly, a smile appeared on his face as he gazed back at you. 

There was a beat of silence, you bit your lower lip as you watched his features and he watched yours. Then, your gaze fell to his hand on your skin, you decided that you liked how he held you, how he’d never let go. 

“I want to take you to the hospital,” he finally said as you looked up at him. Then, he looked around you, you let him as you watched softly how his jaw looked, the small stubble that was growing on his jaw. “You know if there’s someplace close? I’m new in town,” 

You bit down a laugh as you looked at him. “Of course you are, otherwise you wouldn’t have crossed that ROAD and then regretted it,” you said. 

“I’m sorry,” he said looking down again, you could feel the regret in his voice. 

You decided you liked that, you liked how easily you could read him. As you’d study in law school, you should know how to read people and you could sometimes, but you don’t know if growing so shelter blinded you sometimes. It made you naive, which wasn’t a good trait for a lawyer or an adult. Instead, this guy felt warm and easy to read. You could tell that he didn’t really know he was attractive, which only added to his charm. He was one of the quiet ones like you were. He must be a good son, his parent’s definitely loved him. If he hadn’t become a doctor, he could be an engineer, you were sure. 

You thought that you could trust him, which was the most important thing. 

“It’s fine,” you answered as he softly pulled you up and then pulled you closer to him. He smelled like peaches and apricot.“Uhm, I’ll need help with the bike though,”

“Right,” he said as he hurried to get your bike. 

Thankfully, the hospital was just a bus ride away. You laughed softly as he struggled to get your bike into the bus, he was definitely a bit clumsy but at last, he managed. When you reached the ER, you thought he might leave after you were admitted, but he didn’t. He didn’t leave your side, not even when you were brought to a room and when you were placed in a bed while you waited for the doctor. 

“Baby girl,” the nurse stated as she handed you a clipboard. “I need you to feel the information in those papers before the doctor comes in,”

You gazed at the clipboard and then back at your wrist which was being covered by a pack of ice. You stared at her incredulously but she wasn’t really looking at you, you were going to open your mouth but before you could, an arm took the clipboard from the nurse's hand. You gazed back at him as he took the clipboard with a smile. 

“I’ll fill it for you,”

You smiled slightly as you start to mumble your information, date of birth, the town you were born, your parents’ names, and contacts. You see how his lips quirked up when you say that you’re a lawyer, he’s impressed. You feel your cheeks burning up, you like that he’s impressed, and you like men who don’t feel threatened by you being so young and a lawyer. 

“Done, ma’am,” He said as he handed the clipboard over to the nurse. 

The nurse quickly checked him out, clearly thinking too how handsome he looked, even in that awful hospital light. “Thank you, the Doctor will be here in a few,” she said with a smile before exiting the room. 

When the nurse closes the door you look him over. He’s indeed handsome, you think about the story behind him, you wonder and imagine facts about him, quietly writing your own clipboard about him and then you realize that you don’t know his name. 

Before you manage to ask, the doctor comes in. 

“Dr. Suarez,” The man introduces himself to you and then extends a hand out towards him.“Your relationship to the patient?”

“Uhm,” he struggles, you realized he isn’t too good with his words. 

“The guy that caused this,” you explained in a joking manner but his head soon snapped towards you, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I didn’t,” he began but then you quickly raise your eyebrows at him. He sighs. “Robert Floyd,” he explains. He does look like a Robert, you like the way he says his name. “You can call me Bob,” he said, mostly to you. 

You feel your cheeks itching with a smile as you nod softly. “Robert, Bob, Floyd,” you let his name fall from your lips, you saw how his eyes fixed on you as you said it. 

“Okay, Bob,” the doctor said, snapping your thoughts away from Bob. “There’s no need for you to be here anymore, we are getting her a small cast for a few weeks,”

Bob’s jaw clenched slightly as he heard the doctor. “I’m not leaving,” he stated. It sent a ripple of excitement through your spine. 

The doctor gazed at Bob for a moment, processing his statement, and then at you. He sighed. “Whatever you want Bob,” he said as he began to feel your wrist tenderly. 

You winced slightly after a certain touch. Bob immediately noticed it. He quickly got closer to the edge of the bed. “You can hold my hand if you want to,” he said softly. You could tell he was unsure of how you would react, but you bit your inner cheek, trying to force the smile down. 

“I’d like that,” 

By the time you get out of the hospital, the sun is already setting. You lost all your afternoon and you probably wouldn’t be able to ride your bike for at least two weeks but you still couldn’t stop smiling as Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd walks you to your house. He lets you ask the questions now, as he holds your bike and carries your backpack while you guide him through the town. Quickly, you begin to fill up the clipboard of him and mostly, you were right. 

He isn’t an engineer though. He explains to you that he’s in the Navy, a weapon systems officer to be exact. He was called to Top Gun, which meant he was the best of the best. You were right about that, his parents were really proud of him. 

“So, you’re from Lemoore,” you said as you reached the corner of your street. The sky has cues of purple and orange now, it’s getting dark and cold but you don’t feel it really, you’re too entertained with Bob to mind. “But your parents are from Texas,”

He nods with a tight smile on his lips. “I am and yes,” he said. He knows he doesn’t look like a Californian, people had said it a lot, but he has a bit of an accent. You hummed slightly before you continued.

“And you have only one brother,”

“Big brother,” Bob cleared up. You shake your head immediately, amusement covered your features. It made him smile too. “What?” he asked. 

You bit your lip as you look over at him and you simply shrug. “You have older child energy,” you explained. 

Bob laughed immediately. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You’re about to explain it to him before you realized that you’re almost passing by your place. “Oh, we’re here,” you said as you look up at the old house. 

Bob’s chin tilted up as his eyes roamed your place. You glanced at him as you try to read him, it was the first time that you have technically brought a guy over to your place, so you wait expectantly for him to say something but then a big smile is drawn on his face. 

He doesn’t have to say it, you know he likes it. 

“I’ll take your bike to the back,” he offered immediately. 

“Don’t worry about it, really,” you said but Bob cuts you off.  

“I insist,” he states. 

Your eyebrows raised a bit. This is the second time he’s actually commanding, you smile. It wasn’t a fluke, maybe he has a little bit more under those big glasses. 

“Fine,” you said with a sigh as you open the fence and then walk him to the back of the house. 

You explain to him where to leave your bike, and you see how his eyes examined the setup and the other two bikes. You wonder if he’s thinking about what are you doing living here with two other people if you’re a lawyer, you wonder if he judges you but as he insisted he walks you to the back door, the one in the sunroom, you realized that he isn’t judging you, he just wants to know more.

“So, I’m just really sorry, again,” Bob took a deep breath as you reach the sunroom's door.  

You smile and shake your head.

“And there’s nothing to worry about, again,”

Bob nodded as his eyes traced your face. He enjoyed how you smiled, he liked the way your sunkissed skin looked even under the last hues of light of the day, you were still glowing like you were this morning. You were soft but witty, he could see how proud you were about what you’d done. And yet, he couldn’t quite figure you out. His head tilted to the side and stepped closer to you. 

“I would like to see you again,” he said, mostly stated. Your eyes widened slightly, you looked him through your lashes and you felt your cheeks burning up. “Make up for that awful accident,”

You suppressed a smile. “Yeah?” you asked.

“Yes,” Bob nodded. “I mean, I was wondering if we could go on a date?”

You let out a playful gasp and Bob immediately smile, that crooked smirk he’d given you throughout the day, just now you knew where to place it. “Robert Floyd, you’d like a date with me?” you asked. 

But then he bit his cheek, he looked down for a moment and then at you again. He was stumbling with his words again. “I mean, only if you are comfortable with it,”

You rolled your eyes and before you knew it, you leaned into Bob Floyd, raising slightly you pressed your lips against his. He tasted like peaches, the apricot smell surrounded you for a second and it felt like his lips were warm like the sun in the last hours of the afternoon. 

You pulled away instantly, afraid of having been too forward with him. You opened your eyes and you stared at him, frowning immediately. He seemed to be frozen in time, his breathing a bit shallow, his eyes not looking at you for a few seconds, and there wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his face. 

You began to worry. 

“That was a yes, in case you didn’t,”

You couldn’t finish. Bob, in one swift motion, had placed one hand on your lower back drawing you towards him and another one on your cheek, his fingertips sending ripples of gentleness as you felt him. He closed the gap between your lips purposefully, kissing you deeply, eagerly. His kiss was gentle but it send shockwaves through your body just by the way he was holding you, with the same tenderness he had held you throughout the day. Warmth spread through your body as his tongue tangled with yours, as he deepened the kiss and you wrapped your arms on his shoulder. 

You were too busy to feel the laughter in the house, to realize how the light in the sunroom came up or the laughter behind the door. It was only when you felt the door opening that you pulled away from him. 

“What’s going on here!”

SEVEN YEARS LATER

You didn’t know how much you’d held your breath, your ears ringing as you stared at the sea-foam eyes. His mouth was still moving but you couldn’t really hear anything. Your vision began to blur around the edges, maybe coming here without food and sipping on wine wasn’t the best choice. Your throat was feeling tighter and tighter by the second and your eyes were watering, enough for Jake to frown slightly. Swiftly, his hands touched your bare shoulders. 

It made you flinch. 

“Hey,” Jake’s voice finally makes you breathe again. You take a deep breath as you quickly pull away from him, as far as you could in a bar full of people. “Are you okay?”

Concerned creased his features as he looked at you, his skin always made you feel like you were burning up when he touched you. 

“What are you, what are you,” you sigh as you pinch the bridge of your nose. “What are you doing here?” you finally ask.  

“Special detachment,” he explains and you simply nodded at him, curtly, quickly placing your arms over your chest, as if it would make you feel less vulnerable than how you were feeling. “I saw you since you came in, I didn’t know you were living here. I thought you’d be living in London,” he continues, you swallow hard, the tightness in your throat wasn’t really going anywhere. He sighs as he looks at your stance, he’s aware that you’re uncomfortable, but he doesn’t blame you. “I want to invite you to a drink,” he offered, thinking it could make you feel better. 

Your eyebrows knit together immediately. Your eyes examine his features, he’s being honest. You know he is but you cannot afford to have a drink with him. He shouldn’t be here. None of them should be here.

“Jake,” you said, your voice trembling, head tilting to the side in defeat. 

“Please,” he pleaded. “I thought I was dreaming when I saw you. But then I knew, I just would recognize you anywhere,” 

You felt a shiver run through your spine. You stay there for a moment holding Jake’s gaze, the last notes of the song in the air. Suspended in time, he can barely hide how his chest aches as he looks at you. You knew him so well, you realized that you still do. Suddenly, his gaze falls on your hand. You know what he’s looking for. You watch his adam’s apple rise and fall in his throat, and then a sigh of relief escapes his lips. You’re not married or engaged. He’s a relief. You don’t know why it makes your heart flutter to think that he’s relieved. It doesn’t mean that you don’t have someone, that same dumb train of thought lead you to suffer seven years earlier. You don’t dare to look at his hand. 

“Jake, you don’t have to,” you say softly. 

It’s strange. You’ve changed so much from that meek little girl trying to be more outspoken you were back then but under his eyes, you feel the same. He senses it, you’re sure because even after rejecting him, he still dares to step closer to you, you’re barely touching the beige uniform he’s wearing. You hadn’t really seen him in this one. White ones, flight suits, and summer outfits. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that day,” Jake began, his voice quiet as if you’re the only one in the place. 

Your brows come together for a second, a longing looks on your face. You want to slap yourself. You recall how angry you were when he left, how much he hurt you but then you recall that you may have hurt him even more, you’re not sure. Hell, you might have hurt the three of them worse than whatever they could’ve done to you. You swallow softly, he’s too close now. 

Suddenly, the bell rips through the tension in the air. Snapping you both from whatever trance you were in, your head turns towards the bar where Penny had one arm holding the rope of the bell and another one placed on her hip. A scowl on her face as she watches the scene unfolding before her. It’s not hard to comprehend that you’re clearly uncomfortable. 

“Jake Seresin,” Penny calls, you feel all the looks on you and Jake. Instinctively, you give a step back trying to avoid any more gazes, hopefully, Rooster or Bob can’t see you. 

Jake scoffs as he gazed back at you and then at Penny.“What? I wasn’t,” he starts but he sees how this might look. He takes a deep breath. “I wasn’t disrespecting, this isn’t how it works!” he starts but is too late. 

“Boys,” Penny calls, and automatically, three men walk toward Jake. Pulling you to the side, people start to cheer. They don’t give Jake a chance, not even when he’s saying his call names and asking them not to do this. They still grab his biceps forcefully and with a smirk, they lift him from the ground. Penny tilts her head to the side, and the boys start to take him outside. 

Overboard. Overboard. Overboard. 

That’s all you can hear and all you can see are Jake’s green eyes lingering on your form in the crowd. As the crowd gets closer to the bar once more, you feel a sense of relief before someone’s calling your name. You glanced towards the bar. Penny quickly throws your car keys towards you, you catch them in the air. 

Penny winks as you mouth a small ‘Thank you’ before she points you to Jimmy, who calls your name. The old man had known you your whole life, and a sense of relief washes over you as he pulls you to the side and guides you to the back of the bar, exiting the bar without anyone’s prying eyes over you. 

As you exit, you hear the music from the outside. Another cord in the piano, Rooster was non the wiser and if he didn’t know, Bob probably hadn’t seen you either. 

“Tell Penny I’ll come to pay tomorrow,” you insist to Jimmy as he nods and mumbles a goodbye. He closes the door without much trouble and you’re left alone. 

Finally, you feel like there’s a brief pause, your mind racing a hundred miles per hour as you realize what had just happened. You thought that you had moved on, but just the sight of them made your heart race and your breathing stop. It angers you. Thinking about that summer, how it changed your whole life, how it was haunting you now. You didn’t regret what happened, you wouldn’t have Inés if that summer hadn’t happened but you felt your chest aching and your stomach twisting at the thought of them. 

If they saw her, if even only one of them saw her, you knew what would happen. The question that would arise, is the possibility of changing Inés' life. You felt stupid. You really had thought that you were safe, that you wouldn’t see them again. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you curse loudly, angry hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

It’s only until then that you realize that you aren’t alone. 

“It is nice to see your doll,” Jake states as he leans into the edge of the building. 

You groan almost involuntarily. Hot anger simmers softly in the pit of your stomach as you glare at him. Maybe it is the fact that now that you’ve become a mother, you can’t stand the thought of something hurting Inés; maybe it is the fact that now you see Jake as a threat too. 

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you snap at him as you pull your purse tight towards your body while you try to walk in the sand with your strappy heels. You hadn’t really thought about that. 

Jake holds his breath, he pretends that it doesn’t hurt to hear you say that. He pretends that he is okay with not being wanted by you. He isn’t. You have chased every dream he has had for the last seven years. What is happening now, isn’t like in his dreams. 

“Hey, honey,” Jake calls you, and he reaches out for you. His fingers manage to graze over the skin of your arm. He wants to stop you but by the way, you flinch, he knows he fucked up. 

“You don’t get to call me that!” you snap at him. Your voice is higher than you intended but you're flabbergasted at how he dared to touch you. He hasn’t earned it, both of you know it. It scares you, how much of an effect he has on you. 

“Please, it has been years,” Jake states as you roll your eyes and continue walking to your car. “I haven’t stopped thinking about us, about you,” 

A scoff involuntarily passes your lips as you fidget with the keys of your car. You can hear his step following you, getting closer to you than before but he doesn’t dare to take a single step toward you that might invade your space anymore. He holds himself next to the hood of your car. 

“Please,”

You turned towards him, head snapping. “YOU BROKE MY HEART!” you finally yell at him. You refuse to cry in front of him, the tears blurring your vision but not dropping from your eyes. 

Jake stays stunned for a few seconds as he looks at you. You take a deep breath before you get into the car, and you try not to look at him. You don’t want to look at him, you don’t want to think about him anymore. You’d spend too much time thinking about him, about them. So, you drive off. 

You manage to hold yourself together all through the drive and then pick up Inés from your mother’s place. It isn’t until you’re pulling onto the driveway that you realize that you started crying somewhere in between your mother’s house and your place. You quickly try to wipe your face clean, looking at you through the rearview mirror. Inés is still sleeping peacefully, you’re thankful. She has seen you crying, and frustrated with work but you’re afraid she might know the difference. 

With a deep breath, you step out of the car with your purse and quickly unbuckle your daughter from her seat in the back. Quickly lifting her into your arms, grabbing with a little difficulty her backpack from the backseat. You groan slightly as you hoist your daughter onto your hip. It hits you how much she has grown, how she’s slipping through your fingers. You recall how much you thought you needed help carrying her on her basket when she was a baby. You recall thinking about Rooster, Bob, and Hangman. Their stupid pretty faces, how you thought you needed their help. But you’ve been doing this on your own for a while. You did it on your own, you didn’t need them now. 

You set Inés down on her bed. Quickly getting her ready for bed. Unlacing her tennis shoes, then changing her into her pajamas, tucking her safely under the covers. It’s such a routine that you can do it with your eyes close but you don’t, you want to treasure every moment with her. You wonder if they knew about her, would they treasure her just the same? 

A sigh escapes your lips as you finish, turning off her nightlight, you begin to walk away from her. Until you hear her small little voice. 

“Mommy?” she asks, it’s barely a whisper but you hear her nonetheless. 

“What happened baby?” you coo, quickly sitting back on her bed and turning on her nightlight. Your fingers tracing small patterns on her face, you often did it when she was a baby, it gets her to sleep right away. 

“Are you sick?” she asks, her eyes still closed. 

You frown. “No, I’m,”

“You’re sniffling,” her little voice interrupts you. 

Your eyes widened slightly. She’s so smart, you recall. With a smile, you shake your head and give her a kiss on her forehead. 

“It’s the cold baby,” you lie. “I’m fine my love, now go to sleep,”

She lets out a small sigh as you finish threading your fingers through her brownish-gold locks of hair. You kiss her again on the cheek, and then again on her forehead before standing up and walking towards the door. 

“I love you, mommy,” she tells you. 

“I love you too, baby,” you reply. 

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[srgntjamesbuckybarnes]

The List (5)

Summary: When a hit list spreads around New York, Bucky’s ex-wife is the only one with any information.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Mafia Bucky Barnes x Ex-Wife Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Not Beta’d. Thank you for all of the comments. I read them all! Let me know if I missed you in the taglist!

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Chapter 5

Nothing ages the soul faster than pain. Y/N had spent the entirety of her marriage to Bucky nestled under his wing. Warm. Safe. Hidden. He had always been her protector. The second her life was threatened she fell back into familiar habits. No matter how far she jumped, gravity always dragged her back down to Bucky Barnes. A sick joke from the universe or fate? Y/N would never know. She wasn’t the same person Bucky previously married, but neither was he. When they had first wed, neither could imagine a life without one another but if the divorce proved them wrong, why were they back where they started?

Like a snake shedding its skin, the pair was forced to grow. Each new scale bound together like the armor of a knight. The protective layer of thick skin was worn with honor, displayed like a war trophy. Neither one of them had made it out of the divorce unscathed, but they had both survived it. Bucky never doubted Y/N was the one for him, their timing had just been off. Right person, wrong time. Life is like a string. The ending and beginning are always the same, people are born and then they die. It’s all the knots in between that mold people and their relationships. Y/N and Bucky hit a knot in their string. Their perfect marriage became messy and tangled but if they could unravel the knot the string could resume its course. Y/N hoped all of their time spent apart had allowed them to grow together, not apart like they had thought.

Bucky had always held the power in their relationship, but now he was a king in check, trapped behind bars. Y/N was free, free to make moves. Steve had been right. The queen held all of the power. She had been playing the game wrong all along. It wasn’t her who needed protection, it was Bucky. He had just handed her access to the board, to his men. Y/N filed her nails and sharpened her teeth. The prey had become the predator and Y/N was ready to hunt.

Dancing her way into the kitchen with a newfound confidence, Y/N skidded to a halt at the sight of Steve. A coffee mug pressed against his lips as he occupied a stool at the end of the island. He barely spared her a glance, his focus trained on the newspaper in front of him. Y/N would have found it offensive had she not known the man. He had always been more of a brother to Bucky, and she had come to see him as a brother-in-law. She respected him. That was the reason she halted. He wouldn’t approve of her decision.

Clearing her throat, Y/N held her head high as her bare feet padded across the kitchen.

“Morning,” Steve’s deep voice rumbled.

With her back turned to him, Y/N poured herself a cup of coffee mumbling her own greeting. She needed a firm hand to guide her in Bucky’s world, but she hadn’t forgotten the way Steve toyed with her. Maybe he was disappointed Bucky hadn’t left him in charge. It didn’t matter now. Bucky appointed her. At least that’s what Steve told her.

She could hear the crinkle of the newspaper turning before he spoke, “Did you give my advice some thought?”

It was now or never. Y/N clasped her mug between her palms and sauntered across from Steve. Again, he didn’t acknowledge her standing across from him, his head buried in the paper. The sound of her mug connecting with the marble finally caught his attention. The blonde’s head snapped up to face her.

“I did,” Y/N said slowly, dragging the words out.

Steve raised an eyebrow folding the newspaper in front of him. “And?” He pressed; his hands folded on top of the printed paper.

Y/N eyed him for a moment, her tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth. “I’ve decided to take another direction.” Steve shook his head, his pink lips parted. Y/N could taste the argument on his lips so she beat him to it. “You’re demoted, Steve.” The bewildered look on his face almost made her take it back, almost.

“You’re not serious, Y/N.”

The way he said it made her jaw tick. It was a statement rather than a question. As if she wasn’t capable of being serious. As if he didn’t take her seriously. He was the child, not her. Pressing her palms into the marble countertop, she leaned forward. “You may have been right yesterday but what you did was childish. You may have Bucky’s best interest at heart and be Bucky’s best right-hand man, but you are not mine.” Steve opened his mouth again, but Y/N held up a hand. “I get it, Steve, really, I do. Bucky is your friend. It was you picking up the pieces when I moved out but that doesn’t excuse your methods with me. I love you Stevie, but I need someone who is going to be upfront with me and not play these games you and Bucky orchestrated. I need my best right-hand man, not Bucky’s.”

The stool screeched against the tile floor as Steve stood. “You’re making a mistake, Y/N. Bucky will be out soon and when he is, he will undo everything you change.”

Sipping her coffee mug, Y/N smiled. “Then it is my mistake to make. If I fail, you win. Enjoy this demotion. Take a break, go on vacation.”

“Lives are at risk Y/N, it is not the time to experiment,” Steve growled.

“Then Bucky wouldn’t have appointed me.” Y/N picked up her mug ready to exit the kitchen. “Effective immediately, Bucky will report to me.” Exiting the kitchen, the conversation was dismissed.

A nagging feeling in the back of her mind warned her she was making a mistake. That she should listen to Steve. He was in the business longer, he knew better. Y/N shook the feeling away, her feet carrying her across the house in search of her right-hand man. Bucky trusted her. She knew the enemy better than any of Bucky’s men. She hadn’t made her decision on a whim; Loki knew where Bucky was and was expecting Steve to take over. It was the logical thing to do.

“Hey Y/N, where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Y/N smiled at the familiar voice. Exactly who she was looking for. “Hey, Sam. I was going to head to the prison, but I wanted to get your opinion on something first.”

Sam crossed his arms across his chest. “Shoot.”

“How would you feel about a promotion?”

Strumming her nails against the cold metal table, Y/N counted down the seconds the inmates would stroll through the door. Bucky was finally able to receive in-person visits. Her chest tightened at the thought of finally feeling his hand in hers, his arms wrapped around her, his lips against her own. Being so close yet so far was torture but she wasn’t here for Bucky. At least not yet.

Sam sat at a separate table a few feet beside her. He was just as eager to see his boss, his friend, but he had mastered controlling his emotions. Sam had been in the business for years. Prison wasn’t anything new to him. He visited plenty of people, even he mentored some of them before he joined Bucky. Sam was no stranger to visiting friends in prison, but visiting Bucky in prison was new. Steve had been Bucky’s primary contact since his arrest. How would he take Y/N cutting Steve off of him? Sam’s mind swirled with a million possibilities of the kind of man that would walk through the door. Would he still be the boss he knew or worse? The answer was neither.

A buzz rang out alerting the visitors of the arrival of the inmates before the door opened. Each visitor rose from their chair in unison fighting to make their presence known in the same way one would when picking up an individual from an airport. A sea of orange piled into the room followed by the rattle of handcuffs. Despite the matching uniforms, one person stood out amongst the rest. Bucky. His 6-foot frame towered over the other men. The white sling across his chest stuck out like a sore thumb.

Sam couldn’t help but scoff at Bucky’s appearance. Steve had told him Bucky was doing well but Sam had expected him to look rougher. A wolf in sheep's clothing; a true chameleon. Bucky was able to blend in anywhere, prison was no exception.

Bucky shuffled into the gray room one foot in front of the other. His shoulders squared as much as he could with his injury. The entire prison was dull, including the visitor room. It made sense considering the prisoners were dressed in one of the loudest colors imaginable. It made it easy for the guards to keep track of everyone. Bucky was shocked to have received a request for a visit from Sam. Steve would have at least mentioned it to Bucky the last time they spoke.

Bucky came to a standstill as the men in front of him stopped. Waiting for his turn to be guided to a table, Bucky held his head high, scanning the room for Sam. Given his height, he was able to see over everyone, easily spotting Sam. Feeling another set of eyes on him, Bucky’s eyes drifted around the room. It was possible Loki had sent someone reckless to take him out with guards around. He wouldn’t put it past him. Bucky would rather overestimate the man and be prepared rather than underestimate him and be dead.

During his scan, Bucky did a double take, his eyes landing on Y/N. Curiosity ate away at Bucky between Sam’s visit and Y/N being here. He wasn’t expecting her; she hadn’t requested a visit with him.

Y/N held Bucky’s intense gaze. She could tell he was confused, his eyes pleading for answers, but she would let Sam handle that. She had a more important task at hand. She saw Bucky’s jaw clench before a shadow towered over her.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” a cheerful voice called out, pulling her eyes from Bucky.

Y/N turned to the man beside her, uncuffed with his arms outstretched for a hug. His soft green eyes stared at her like a lost puppy, and she couldn’t help chuckle as she embraced him. “Scott Lang. It’s been a while.”

The brunette’s chest rumbled beneath the orange fabric as he pulled away. Motioning to the steel chair Y/N had been previously sitting in, Scott invited her to join him at the table which Y/N gladly accepted.

“So, what brings you to my neck of the woods? Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming sooner, I would have spruced the place up a bit,” Scott joked.

Y/N had met Scott on a trip to California after her split from Bucky. He too had been recently divorced. Unlike Y/N and Bucky, Scott and his ex-wife had a daughter, Cassandra, so they were in frequent contact. Y/N had wondered if she and Bucky had a child would they have been as civil as Scott and his ex-wife? Maybe they would have worked it out and wouldn’t have divorced at all. Maybe they never would have lost contact.

Y/N laughed, ignoring Bucky’s glare as he passed her. She forgot how goofy Scott was. He always made his daughter laugh. He was a good dad. Unfortunately, his career choice kept him from her. A regret he kicked himself over time and time again; however, no matter how illegal, it did support her. That was all he wanted to do, provide for his daughter. Y/N’s heart went out to the troubled little family. She couldn’t imagine having a child with Bucky while he was in and out of prison.

“You’re a long way from San Diego. Had I known you were here I would have come to visit sooner,” Y/N smiled softly.

Scott shrugged, “Judge thought a change of scenery would do me good. Little does he know; he just gave me access to more connections.”

Y/N hummed. That was the exact reason she came to visit him. Scott was an extremely personable guy, and he knew everyone in the wrong business. “Actually Scott, that is what I came to talk to you about.”

Scott clasped his hands together on the metal table, leaning forward. “I’m all ears.”

Clearing her throat, Y/N whispered, “I need to track someone down by the name of Thor and I need it to be done as discreetly as possible.”

Scott slammed his hand on top of the table, the bang ringing around the room. Everyone’s eyes shot to the pair. Realizing his mistake, Scott held his hands up at the guards who began to approach the table. Scott began to fumble over his words explaining he wasn’t being violent, but Y/N tuned him out. Staring at Bucky who kept his murderous glare locked on Scott, Y/N turned to Sam who looked equally as furious.

“Ma’am,” a guard called, snapping his fingers in her face.

Y/N jumped, tilting her head back to face the guard.

“Are you okay?”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Y/N nodded. “We’re fine.”

“Keep it down over here.” The guard eyed the two of them for a moment before turning on his heel.

Once the guard disappeared, Y/N waved a hand at Sam dismissing him. Then she reached across the table and flicked Scott in the forearm.

“Ouch,” he began rubbing his arm, “What was that for.”

“For causing a scene. What part of discrete did you not understand? Isn’t discretion part of your job?”

Scott gestured around the room. “I never said I was good at it.” Clearly or he wouldn’t have been caught several times. “Anyway, you’re looking for Odinson?”

Y/N nodded leaning back in her chair.

A dopey grin graced his face, “Well, you’re hot.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raised, “Excuse me?”

“The hot and cold game. Me and Cassie play it all the time.” When Y/N didn’t respond, Scott waved his hand. “Forget it.” He leaned closer, “Thor is here.”

Eyes widening, Y/N pressed her palms against the edge of the table steadying herself. “In the prison?!”

Scott nodded, “Apparently royalty isn’t above the law. At least not overseas anyway. Boozie one he is.” He began to mimic a drunken man passed out.

“Well, can I meet with him?”

The man tilted his head pursing his lips. “Thor is in solitary confinement for fighting the guards.” Y/N frowned. Her plan had been a dead end. Steve was right. She should have listened to him. “But I know a guy who can get a message to him when he gets out.” Scott offered. Y/N perked up nodding enthusiastically. Scott jerked his head to his left. “They frequent the same circle. He could get the message to Odinson.” Y/N followed the direction his head pointed and snorted. Bucky.

“He’s a cool guy. I think you’d like ‘em.”

Y/N held back a laugh at the irony as she glanced down at her ring. “Thanks, Scott. Can I give Cassie a message?”

“Actually, just send her one of those creepy dolls she likes so much. She’ll know it’s from me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes before squeezing his hand. “Will do. Thanks, Lang.”

Scott raised his hand signaling the end of their conversation. In a matter of seconds, he was escorted out of the room leaving Y/N alone at the table with her thoughts. In chess, the king wasn’t useless, he could still take pieces out and make moves. He was just limited, like Bucky. It was his turn to make a move.

Y/N stood, approaching Sam and Bucky. Without a word, Sam rose from his seat sending Bucky a nod before moving to stand to talk with one of the guards. Y/N was grateful that he chatted with the guards to avoid them making a fuss over her and Bucky not having an appointment.

Bucky would have stood and waited for her to sit if it wouldn’t draw attention to them. He yearned to hold her in his arms but that wasn’t going to happen, at least not now. Instead, he let his eyes shamelessly roam her face and body. Y/N blushed under his gaze and didn’t hesitate to grasp his open palm, outstretched on the table. Bucky squeezed her hand, his eyes admiring the ring on her finger.

“You got the ring,” he observed. Y/N hummed in response. Bringing her hand up to his mouth, his lips grazed the back of her hand. “I can’t wait to get out of here so I can fuck you wearing only this,” he growled, pressing his lips against her knuckle.

“Bucky,” Y/N gasped.

He sent her a sly grin adjusting the ring on her finger. He knew just what to say to make her squirm. “Sam told me you’ve been making some big changes. Good to know you haven’t changed that much.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, “Why didn’t you tell me what you had planned?” 

Bucky didn’t need her to elaborate on what she meant. He knew she was talking about putting her in charge. For a long moment, he said nothing, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. Y/N tightened her grip on his hand, reminding him of the question he had yet to answer.

Bucky exhaled, thumbing the ring on her finger. “I told you the conversations on the phone were recorded.”

Y/N bobbed her head, “We’re not on the phone now Buck. You promised to be honest with me, to let me in.”

His left shoulder slumped. “Steve and I speak in code sometimes. Makes situations like this and speaking in front of enemies easier. We’ve known each other so long that some things don’t need to be said out loud. Sometimes a look is enough.”

Y/N felt a pang of jealousy strike her heart like lightning. Bucky had always been close with Steve. They shared a bond that not even Bucky and Y/N had. Her ex-husband never let her fully in and it was the downfall of their marriage.

“You asked for my protection. Steve and I agreed that wouldn’t change no matter what, but I had to make sure you were all in before I handed you the keys to the castle.” His thumb stilled on the diamond. “Steve is mean sweetheart because I asked him to be. Not with words but I know he understood. He knows it would kill me if something happened to you. Hell,” he huffed, “it nearly killed me the first time. I already lost you once, I can’t do it again.”

Y/N frowned, “That doesn’t excuse the childish games you two play. This is why I demoted Steve. He’s not loyal to the mob, he's loyal to you.”

Bucky removed his hand from hers to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, pretty girl, you don’t get how truly important you are.”

“Steve suggested we use the wedding as bait.”

Bucky leaned back in his seat. “What do you think?”

Y/N shook her head. “I met with Scott to discuss an alternative route.” Buck nodded, glad to have some light shown on why Y/N had been talking to Lang. “He said you run with the same crowd as Thor. He’s Loki’s stepbrother.” Bucky’s eyes widened. “I need you to talk to him. Tell him I sent you. Tell him the whole story if you have to. We need him on our side.”

Bucky stared at her as if she was crazy. “The guy isn’t stable Y/N. He lost his eye in a fight. He’s in solitary confinement. The guy could snap if he learns that his brother has a hit list on us. He could kill me.”

Y/N chuckled. “Don’t tell me New York’s big bad mob boss is afraid of a big oaf. Thor is nothing like Loki. He’s a good guy. He wants to help Loki.”

Ignoring her comment, Bucky pressed, “And what do I tell him when he asks how we're going to help him? I don’t think he’ll take well to us planning to kill his brother.”

Glancing around the room for anyone listening, Y/N leaned forward hissing, “We are not killing him.”

Bucky winked, “Got it.”

“I’m serious, Bucky. If we can get Thor to help us, we can lure Loki out and Thor can take Loki home to get help.”

“And if he refuses? If he gets away?”

“I need you to trust me. I know this family better than anyone else on our side.”

Bucky signed. “Should I be worried about the number of men you know that are sitting in prison?”

“You’re in prison,” Y/N pointed out.

The brunette nodded, running his fingers through his beard. “I trust you.”

“Good, because you report to me now. Not Steve, not Sam, not Peter. Me.”

Bucky groaned, “Careful darling, keep talking like that and I might not be able to wait until I get out of here.”

Next Chapter

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[alaskan-wallflower]

Curtis Parents hcs let’s goooooo

I don’t know why. But Mrs. Curtis was definitely a spring or summer baby.

Her name was Carolina but she went by Lina! Or CC. Me. Curtis called her CC when they got married

I like to think she was kind of a petite woman-she had the thickest hair imaginable. She was seriously beautiful (I mean…look at her kids)

She had this waist length, wavy, golden hair and these bright green eyes. She definitely had a more doe like look.

She used to love eye makeup. Mr Curtis used to call her Bambi because she looked so deer like sometimes with her eyes lol

She loved sundresses and bright colors and often wore a white dress with yellow flower prints on them. That was Pony’s favorite af least.

Mr. Curtis was definitely a load taller than her

He canonically looks like Darry-I’m imagining him to have these grey eyes-or maybe brown! Maybe even heterochromia honestly! One brown eye and one grey eye.

He used to be a shop class teacher at the high school! He had Darry in his class actually. He taught Darry how to start woodworking and the tips and tricks, hence why he roofs homes now. He feels like he’s with his father when we’ve he goes

Anyway

He was definitely bigger in build and looked SO scary but he was the goofiest man ever

Take Soda, put him on steroids and you have Mr. Curtis. He was def a favorite teacher and the school mourned when he died.

The two met on a blind date! Mrs. Curtis wore her yellow dress and that’s how they ended up finding each other

They’re interfaith! Mrs. Curtis was Jewish and Mr. Curtis was Catholic.

Their first date was to a fair and out for dinner. They go to fairs a lot, and they had their first kiss at the top of a ferris wheel I’m calling it

Mr. Curtis had a LOT of pet names for her.

He’d call her Daffodil a lot because she had one in her hair when they first met 😭🙏

Bless his heart

Neither of them had big families-Mrs. Curtis was raised in a modest house-she didn’t have much growing up but it taught her to be a hard worker

Mr Curtis was honestly the same-except he had it a lot worse

He didn’t get to eat often so whenever his family was eating he would say his stomach hurt at dinner all the time and would wait for everyone else to have their fill before saying he would “try to eat” (this was a plot to make sure everyone was fed before him)

Darry learned this from him tbh

Their wedding was suuuuuper fun tho-they both have big extended families and they were able to throw a really big ceremony for them

Mr. Curtis BAWLED when she walked down the aisle

She even had a daffodil in her hair

Nrs. Curtis got pregnant with Darey on their honeymoon. They were pretty young when they had him-they’d canonically be at least in their early 20s

They were so confused when Darry popped out with blue eyes 😭

It was her idea to name him Darrel too. She thought he looked just like him, even as a baby

Aftee him they wanted another baby (Mrs. Curtis got HORRID baby fever) and they had one-but unfortunately that baby didn’t make it.

Soda was a rainbow baby by default-they told him and he thought that meant he was born rainbow

She did NOT wanna name him Sodapop but Mr. Curtis was very persuasive

By the time Ponyboy came along she gave up and let him name him Ponyboy 😭

Mrs. Curtis worked as a kindergarten teacher! The kids called her Miss Sunshine a lot because of her hair and the bright colors she wore

She was super good at music! She used to do club performances when her and Mr. Curtis were dating (just singing and playing piano) and Mr. Curtis immediately fell in love with her

She taught Darry and Pony how to sing and play piano. Soda had n interest lol

She also loved nature! Mr. Curtis did too-he was like a big puppy who just constantly needed attention and to be outside lol

They went brid watching a lot too!

Mrs. Curtis had a super sweet and soft voice and Mr. Curtis had the thickest accent ever 😭

Mr. Curtis was a lot like Bandit from Bluey. That’s the best comparison I can make-he was super goofy and fun loving but he was always putting his kids before anything else

When the Curtis brothers buried their parents they put daffodils on both their graves. They can’t look at daffodils anymore without tearing up or crying

That’s all for now! Should I do a pt. 2?

[ravennm84]

Lila’s Karen Moment

This is a story that I’ve been kicking around for a while, thinking of Lila having a moment where she’s in a bad mood and takes her anger out on someone, not knowing that the person is closely connected to her classmates. And... I just love writing “Lila gets exposed” stories. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

Most of the class knew about Max’s cousin, Nick. They had been raised in the same apartment building and absolutely adored each other. Although Nick was a couple years older, he had been diagnosed with autism when he was four years old. Which wasn’t to say he was slow, just a little different. Mostly, Nick was shy and wouldn’t talk to people he wasn’t familiar with. He had a hard time looking people in the eye and didn’t understand social cues.

Still, the class, at least those who had grown up around him, knew just how sweet and caring he was; and how open he could be with people he knew. Kim and Alix would include him in their races, knowing how much fun he had running with them. Nathaniel would do drawings of Nick as a superhero, saving the day and protecting Max, which always put a smile on his face. Nino had a playlist with a bunch of show tunes, Nick was a big fan of Phantom of the Opera and Fiddler on the Roof. Marinette taught him how to do paper folding when they were younger, and he soon became better at it than she was. Even Chloe had a soft spot for Nick after he had bashfully given her a rose made of gold paper and said she was a ‘pretty princess’.

But none of the class cared as much as Max. He would go over to his cousin’s apartment every day in the morning to make sure he got up. Tell him stories about the class and show Nick pictures. Heck, one of the reasons he had invented Markov was to create someone to be a companion for Nick, so he would never be alone. Nick had a tendency to wander off when he was bored or saw something interesting. The few times Max, his mom, or Nick’s parents had lost sight of him; they had gone into total panic attacks. Only for Nick to find his way back to them a few hours later. If Nick had a little companion robot like Markov, it would be a lot safer for him.

So, when Max's aunt asked him if he could have an activity day with Nick, he was all for it. When he told the class, they decided to have a picnic for Nick. They had all been busy lately, it had been a while since they last saw him.

It was a beautiful day at the park. Nino had a full playlist ready to go, along with new songs from Hamilton and Six, he had a feeling Nick would like Haus of Holbein. Marinette had brought all his favorite pastries and a couple new ones he might like, making sure they were organized by size. Even Chloe had come, having Sabrina bring a ream of multicolored paper, perfect for folding. 

As soon as Max, Nick, and Markov arrived, there were good vibes all around. Kim and Alix raced laps with him around the fountain until Kim tripped and fell into the water; big smile from Nick. When No Way played, Nick had Nino put it on repeat over and over until everyone was singing it. When Rose and Juleka got there, they had been running late; Nick came behind the goth and started braiding her hair. He loved touching her hair and had done this many times before. Rose would always watch carefully and would gently tell him if he pulled too much.

Nick was in the middle of creating an entire boutique of paper flowers when the akuma alert went off. Alarms were always too much for Nick and before anyone could stop him, he had covered his ears and ran down the sidewalk. Markov followed as best as his little propeller would let him, but fell behind. 

Even as the swarm of magical ladybugs swept across the sky a few minutes later, signaling the end of the attack, Nick didn't slow down. He only stopped after he ran head first into a familiar girl wearing twin ponytails and an orange blazer. Both teenagers fell to the ground with Nick cowering and quietly apologizing, while Lila glared at the boy. Markov, to his credit, recognized her expression as hostile and began recording in case something happened. And boy, did it.

"You stupid, clumsy retard! What the hell are you doing?" Lila screamed as she stood over the cowering boy. 

"I… I-"

*smack*

Nick curled into a ball on the ground, scared and in pain from the unexpected strike. 

"Shut up, you don't get to talk. Retards like you aren't allowed to talk. How did you even get out of your ward? Things like you should be locked up since your parents weren't smart enough to drop you off a cliff." 

*smack*

Another cry and Lila kicked him out of the way with her boot, grumbling as she walked off that her outfit got dirty and scuffed. Not once did she bother to look up and see Markov hovering above them. The little robot stopped recording and floated down to comfort Nick while sending their coordinates to Max. 

Ten minutes later, the class and Max were gently leading his cousin back to the park. He was shocked and angry to see the bruises and nail marks on Nick's cheek. The marks meant that they weren't the result of the akuma attack. Those would have been healed by the miraculous cure. This would have been done by someone else after the initial attack. Marinette had rushed home to grab a medical kit while the others did their best to cheer Nick up. It wasn’t until Marinette got back that Markov was able to get everyone's attention.

"Max, I was able to record the interaction that resulted in your cousin’s injuries. Including the identity of his attacker. Would you like to see it?"

After Nick was properly distracted by Marinette and Nathaniel showing him a new paper folding technique, and moving a small distance so he wouldn't hear, Markov played it. The class looked on in absolute shock and disgust as they watched their "friend" verbally and physically attack one of the kindest, sweetest people they knew. 

After watching it a second time, to convince themselves that it really was Lila, they went ballistic! Nino was on the phone with Alya, telling her what he'd just seen. Max was angry-dialing his aunt and mother to tell them what happened, Markov had already forwarded the video to his email to send to the adults. Rose and Juleka displayed a surprising amount of strength as they kept Kim and Alix from hunting Lila down themselves. Sabrina had called her father to report the assault. Chloe was also on the phone with her father, demanding that he have the Rossi family kicked out of Paris immediately. 

~oOo~

Lila was beyond annoyed by the time she stomped into her family's apartment. First, her akumatization failed and she was turned back to normal after just a few minutes. That mangy cat even had the audacity to compare her to the fanatic bird guy. Then she got knocked down by some pathetic boy who couldn't even apologize right. She was so angry that she ended up slapping him a couple times before kicking him out of the way. And, just her luck, her phone got damaged from the fall.

When she got home, she barely made the effort to wave at her mom in the kitchen before going to her room. After changing into a new outfit, Lila took a few minutes to think up a good story as to how her phone was damaged and reasons why she needed the newest model to replace it. When she heard her mom talking to someone, she figured she was talking to her father over Zoom. He was back at his school in Italy. Maybe she could convince him to side with her for a new phone. 

However, she was met by two police officers that greeted her by name. Lila didn't get the chance to say anything before the men were arresting her for assault. Her cries went to deaf ears as she was taken away with her mother following them to the station. Even there, she had no chance to spin her lies as her mother and lawyer kept telling her to shut up. The only times they demanded she speak were to questions she didn't want to answer. 

Why did you hit a stranger who accidentally knocked you down? 

Silence.

You were akumatized? How could you not tell me? 

Silence.

How are you already back to normal? You told me how those useless, fake heroes take weeks to defeat a single akuma. 

Not so silent. 

It was the police that indignantly corrected Greta Rossi that time. For a few minutes they were going back and forth while Lila stewed between the four angry adults. She really wished that an akuma would come to her, but none came. Unknown to her; Ladybug, Chat Noir, Rena Rouge, Carapace, and Pegasus were all camped out on the surrounding buildings to keep that from happening. They'd already spotted and caught three butterflies. 

Eventually, Lila was released into the custody of her mother, but was warned that they should expect to be contacted with a court date very soon. The entire way home, Greta was yelling and berating her daughter for not only physically and verbally attacking someone who accidentally bumped into her, but lying about the akuma situation. She already planned on personally escorting Lila to school on Monday to have an in depth discussion with her teacher and principal. Lila pleaded with her mother to just listen to her, but Greta wasn't about to fall for any more of her daughter's lies.

~oOo~

Monday turned out to be even worse for Lila with all her diseases and attendance issues coming out during the meeting at school. As well as the incident with Marinette. She tried to cry and tell her side of the story; but her mother, the principal, or Marinette would contradict her with facts. This left more lies exposed, giving her another six months of being grounded without an allowance, and the possibility of an expulsion from school. 

Marinette was soon excused back to class. Lila was formally suspended for three weeks, would have to finish the school year with her class, and then repeat the academic year. If she wasn't expelled, that is. Lila was in tears as she pleaded with the two adults, begging them to just give her detention and summer school instead of holding her back a year. It didn't work. 

Eventually, Lila was sent out of the room and left sulking in the hallway. It was just her luck that Max, Nathaniel, and Kim were going to the library to work on a research paper. The three boys scowled at her, she didn't bother to hide her glare today. When they stopped close to her, she sneered harder. 

"What do you freaks want?" She snapped. 

*SMACK*

Lila cradled her reddening cheek in shock. The other two boys were just as surprised as they stared at Max as he casually adjusted his glasses.  "I would like to state that under normal circumstances, I would never strike another person. I prefer to fight my battles with intelligence and wit rather than my fists." Then his lens glinted, giving him a menacing look. "But then you attacked my cousin. You hit him, called him disgusting names, and then kicked him out of the way like garbage."

Lila sputtered in shock for a moment before snarling at the boy. "Like that even matters. I'll get you expelled for hitting-"

"I can guarantee you that I will never face any consequences for what I just did." Max said, walking forward as he spoke and forcing Lila to back into the wall. "You have already been exposed as a liar, so no one will believe you. The cameras for this hallway are currently malfunctioning. I have no record of violence, ever. And I have witnesses that will support that I never laid a finger on you. If you tried to tell anyone, there's a 99.874% chance that they would say you're lying."

Kim shrugged as he looked at the two of them. "I didn't see anything."

Nathaniel looked surprisingly smug as he said, "I bet she made it up as a way to get back at the family that's suing her. Even the mark on her face, I bet she did it to herself. And it's not the first time she faked an injury to get someone in trouble."

Leaning even closer, and despite being several centimeters shorter than her, Lila felt very belittled by the boy. Since when was Max this intimidating?

"Consider this your first, last, and only warning. If you ever try to hurt my family or friends again, I will ruin you. You don't need to answer me now, I'll be watching."

Then, the three of them walked away, like they hadn't just threatened her! Like she was nothing to them! Just like… like she'd done to Marinette. Gritting her teeth, Lila wanted nothing more than to go after those boys and destroy them!

In the span of a single weekend, Max had been able to record her without her knowledge. Got her arrested for assault. Fired from Gabriel since the brand couldn’t be associated with someone who beat an autistic boy. Suspended from school, likely expelled. And most of her lies were exposed to her mother. Still, she wasn't about to let some nerd with no fashion sense get the best of her!

Lila was trying to decide the best way to get her revenge when her mother came stomping out of the principal's office. Cursing at her in rapid Italian the entire time, Greta dragged Lila out of the school. All the way home she tried to tell her mother about Max slapping her just outside the office and how they tormented her, saying that no one would believe her. 

"Will you stop, already?" Greta screamed at her daughter, catching Lila by surprise. "What makes you think, after everything you've done, that I would believe anything you say?"

"But-"

"No, I am done listening to your lies. Even if some stranger came up to me and said you stole their soul from them, I would believe that person over you."

"I'm not lying! Look! Max left a mark where he slapped me!" She screamed back, pointing at the slightly red cheek.

"After what Marinette told me, it wouldn't surprise me if you did it to yourself as a way to try and get out of trouble."

"But, Mom!"

"I don't want to hear it!"

Lila couldn't believe it, the one time she was telling the truth and her own mother didn't believe her… just like Max said. After arriving back at their apartment, Lila was put on house arrest. She would be forced to study under a very strict tutor until the suspension and trial were finished. After that, she would be sent back to Italy where she would be attending the naval military school where her father, Ciro Rossi, was the vice principal. And no amount of begging, pleading, or tears would change Greta's mind.

Bonus:

Once Max, Kim, and Nathaniel were out of sight, the smallest boy nearly collapsed to his knees in shock. He couldn't believe he just did that. He actually hit and threatened someone! Kim was patting his shoulder, assuring him that he'd been very intimidating. Nathaniel looked just as surprised by what he'd done, but far more accepting. 

"Do you think she bought it?" Max asked, a slight tremor in his voice.

"I would have, you were really believable," nodded the red head.

"Yeah, you were scary, man. I'm so proud of you." Kim noogied his head. 

Pushing the larger boy off of him, he gave Kim a smile before they went back to their project. He didn't like how he acted, even towards a terrible human being like Lila Rossi. But for Nick, he'd do it again.

Taglist:

@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @awkwardromances @bayball @babylovebug18 @botanicalfoxx @back-cats-and-broken-mirrors @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld  @corabeth11 @chocolatechipcookiesandcamembert @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @ladylupuscrow @maskedpainter @miraculouslydumb @nerd-nowandforever @naruwitch @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @pheonix-biach @pandora-fucking-box @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @rowanyx @ren121 @seesea22 @seraphichana @sashakoi @shypeacekitten @smartlanceisreal @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance

[insom-nom-nom-niatic]

Female reader x Troy Otto after he "died" the reader was the one who stabbed him after he got to grabby you her she stabs with his knife and ran off she the only doctor so she valuable to the group he would also like his knife back. Maybe after a couple month he finds her and I would like some choking but anything would good

SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER!!! I hope you enjoy it.

CHARACTERS: Troy Otto X Fem Reader (third person for some reason cause that's what happened)

WARNINGS: It's made for FTWD so you should know the basics. +SMUT (read at your own risk. I'm nobody's mom) +Choking +Somewhat past possible attempt at r**e but he didn't didn't and he'd have stopped.

“Turns out being stabbed a second time hurts more than the first.”

“Good. I meant for it to hurt.” Her voice cut through the air like his knife did as it cut through his muscle. Her features showed no sign of surrender or fear, only sincerity in her words as the torch flame flickered their shadows on the cement walls. 

Troy raised both hands in surrender, his eyes glancing down to the same knife once stained with his own blood and back into her eyes. His shoulders tensed under his black jacket as her knuckles faded to a paler color gripping the handle of the sharp blade tighter. She had no reason to trust Troy after the last meeting the two had, yet, looking at the man out of his element and with no one around to make him feel taller than he already was, there was a certain chord he hit somewhere in her stomach. She didn’t feel that she was in danger, rather and oddly the opposite.

“Maybe it hurt a bit more because of who it came from.” He stood still as a tree, looking back to the woman through his eyelashes subconsciously. He was here on a mission to bring her back, but seeing her now and the life she’s had since that day months ago made a pit in his stomach open and swallow his heart whole. 

It had been 6 months give or take since she fled. Fled into the cold, rainy night unsure of what terrors where beyond the small compound. But she had to go, at least that’s what her body told her to do in the moment, there was no turning back. It took about a month for her to miss what she had. A roof over head, food and water, and most of al the protection that one Mister Otto provided. 

Ever since day 1 of finding the group, back when there was only a few of them, she could always feel something different with Troy than with any of the other men or women. He looked at her different. Talked to her different. He acted, well, gentler with her than anyone else even as the group grew to more than a few dozen. He told her on multiple occasions how they all needed her… how he needed her. 

He said that same thing the night everything changed. 

“You didn’t listen and forced my hand, Troy. Do you think I like starving out here on my own? I couldn’t come back and deal with any possibilities of YOU.” 

Ouch. Troy felt her words like a punch in the jugular. His eyes couldn’t hide the wince of pain he felt as his blue and white orbs fell to the ground at her boots astrown with holes. He thought back to that night, a night that has haunted him since. The look in her eyes when he felt the searing heat of his own blade slicing his flesh open. The apprehension that was once in her eyes now flickered with rage as she looked directly into his one good eye, pulling the blade back with force and bolting out the door, leaving his howls of pain and his own anger behind her. 

She left him alone. A nightmare he had only ever shared with her. 

“I know,” Troy’s entire expression fell like the edges of his lips. Her grip on the blade loosened as he continued. 

“I have regretted that night since, regretted what I tried to do and-” his eyes caught ahold of hers, both stomachs dropping at the same time before he continued. “-not listening to you. All those times that I told you that the group needed you, I wasn’t lying. They need you more than they need me so if that’s what it takes then-” 

“You’re going to leave for me to come back?” She cut Troy off mid sentence, shocking them both. The grin pulling at the ends of his lips to her question secured the answer both knew, but Troy was honestly questioning if he would do as he said for her. 

“Is that really what you want, darling?”

“No, no, no, no. Don’t you call me that, Troy.”  His voice changed back to the Troy she knew, the Troy that made her so irritated and yet welcomed and needed. His little pet name she only ever heard him reserve for her. She hated how much she loved it, but now was not the time for his little mind games. 

“Look-” Troy lowered his hands, resting both comfortably on his hips with his head rolling back in a stretch before meeting her gaze again. “-I know where you’re at now so the option is to come back with me willingly now or I’ll carry you kicking and screaming and the walkers can pick us both off together then leaving the group without a doctor or a leader.” 

The look he gave was unfaultering even through his bluff. She knew Troy wouldn’t force her to accompany him if she didn’t want to, and looking around the small cement room she didn’t have many reasons to NOT want to go back. But she knew if she didn’t go now, he’d end up sending a large enough group to her coordinates that she’d have to leave. It was a decision of eating roadkill for another week or not, and the growing smirk on the brunette's face solidified the answer. 

“You’re not getting your knife back.” 

“Oh c’mon!” She returned the smirk, sliding the sharp, freezing blade into the back of her jeans whilst kicking dirt on the smoldering fire, dimming the light in the room to the single lantern behind the tall brunette. 

A pit in her stomach arose, looking back at the small dug out she called home for the last few months before carrying on behind the footsteps of Troy Otto.

Her nuisance.

Her monster.

Her torment.

Her protector.

And possibly, her savior.  

As night ran into day, both she and Troy’s speed wavered. His footsteps lagged with each step whilst her hands pulled her weight forward tree after tree, both too stubborn to say it was time for a rest. 

Suddenly, a low growl came from the ditch 5 feet from their left. One growl turned into 5 moans, turned into 10 grunts and so on. Both stopped in their steps, hearing the rumbling below the dirt embankment grow with each step they took. 

Sharing a glance, She pushed Troy’s shoulder towards the sound, egging him to go see what they are facing. 

Begrudgingly, Troy cautiously snuck to the edge of the embankment, peering over for a heartbeat or two before a few large footsteps brought him back to her. His hands resting on her upper arms, somehow soothing, while his eye searched the surroundings opposite from the sounds. 

“C’mon, this way,” Troy whispered into her ear before pulling one hand along behind his back. She didn’t pull away, didn’t even notice what he’d done until the cold recaptured her skin moments later. 

As the sun set on another night somehow still breathing, she watched as Troy set traps surrounding the small camp you both had made within only a few good minutes. He swore he would stay awake throughout the night, keeping watch, and yet he paced the perimeter around the small camp fire you’d made, placing leaves and anything that would alert to movement around. 

As he finally sat opposite of her, she couldn’t helo the smile that arose her lips. 

“What?” Troy asked, his cheeks heating from within. That look, the look he’d only ever felt from her made his stomach ache with a hunger he’d only felt a handful of times. He rose to his feet once more, turning to hide the flush he knew she’d be able to see on his skin. 

“Oh c’mon, Troy. Don’t be like that!” Her tone changed to playful and open, like she once was with  him. Glancing down at her shivering fingers, the realization set in. She hadn’t felt this way, hadn’t sounded like that, since she’d been in his company. And even then, it was only ever in HIS company. 

“Come sit. Please?” 

A large breath left Troy’s chest, battling his own heart and mind was something he was used to but having her here again made his whole body numb. He finally obliged, turning on a heel and padding his large footsteps ever softly on the dirt towards her. Looking around one more time for any signs of the deead, or worst any living, before taking a seat beside her. His nose once again thanking him for the fire light in the dense cold. 

“You saved my ass back there,” Her words were soft, sincere. “So thank you, I guess. If it was just me again I probably would have been toast.” 

“You would have been fine, I’m sure.” Troy played with the scar on the back of his left palm. His right thumb digging into the rough scales of skin, the heat she gave off next to him nearly matched that of the fires. It felt good, warm. Yet, he the uneasy feeling was unwavering. 

“You‘ve known that all this-” she gestured to their surroundings. “-This was never MY strong suit. I patch up the people that are good at this kind of thing. People like YOU.” 

She earned a chuckle from the brunette, his shoulders shaking slightly bringing his eyes back up to meet the fires dancing flames. 

“I suppose you always did do a pretty decent job at fixing me up.”

“DECENT?! Oh, I did a whole hell of a lot better than decent with the stitches in your bicep, or your calf, or your left, and don’t forget about the right pec. I bet you can’t even tell you ever were wounded.” 

“You didn’t do a very good job on my thigh-” Troy stopped after that one word. He shouldn’t have said it, he shouldn't have brought it up. Dead silence fell between the two, not even the crickets had the guts to make a sound. 

“I made sure to not hit your femoral vein if that’s any consolation.” Her voice was that of a mouse. So quiet that Troy wasn’t sure if he had merely imagined it. Until he glanced slowly in her direction, catching that look of shame she had only shown once or twice, making his frown shift. 

He wanted to give her a side eye, cautionary and intense, but he had decided to sit on her right which meant his side eye had to be a full look over for his good eye to catch the way she sucked in air through gritted teeth.

Smooth Troy, very smooth. 

He felt her weight shift a tad, looking over to see her body in a full shiver before trying to hide it again. He rolled his jacket off his broad shoulders, catching the back and draping the hefty coat around her. The look she gave him didn’t need words, as he gave a half smile and turned back towards the glowing flames. 

What seemed like hours had passed in silence, comfortable silence, before Troy felt her weight lean into his side. His head swiveled in her direction, his breath caught in his throat when he felt the closeness of their faces in the dimming light. 

She didn’t turn away this time when he gave into his impulse. His flesh melting with her own. He never fully understood how humans had the ability to somehow find their partner’s lips in the dark until that moment when everything seemed to click. 

Neither one was expecting this, rather the opposite. She was expecting to not live to see their group again and he’d figured she was going to end him with his own knife one night in his sleep. But as life has it, something in their fate changed. 

Feeling his warmth only inches from her, she caved. Pressing her weight into him in a full kiss, her eyes drifting closed taking in his lips, his scent, his touch. Both grasping for skin as they weaved their lips together, his tongue nudging at her bottom lip while his hands roamed her body.. 

A sudden pressure was released from her waste band. Cool air drifting over exposed skin as Troy’s lips curved against the pulse of her neck. His chest wavered with a deep chuckle as his head fell backwards with a toothy grin in a croak of laughter. 

“This is mine now,” Troy waved his knife in the air above the two, like a child finally getting back their favorite toy. “Well... again.”

Sitting back on her elbows, the woman shook her head slowly, unable to help the grin growing on her features. He was such a literal pain in the ass but when he was like this, when he wasn’t so serious and did that little giggle of his she couldn’t help but fall further down his rabbit hole. 

His eye caught hers again, shadows flickering in the movement of the flames at their feet as he curled one arm around her torso moving to hover over her form without ant loss of eye contact. He was afraid he’d see that fear in her irises again like the last time they were this close, but he caught submission, adoration, maybe some excitement instead. 

His body moved against hers, clothing against disheveled clothing causing friction against both their skin. She was sure he could feel the heat radiating through her body where his hips rolled against hers. His sweet moan filling her senses as his eye bore down on her. His eye grew dark, lustful, wanting more than just the friction of clothing. He wanted to warm her up in the cool dark night in more ways than just this. 

The small bite of her lip and a nod gave him all the leeway he needed. Not a second passed before his lips were suctioned back onto hers. His tongue forced its way through partially opened lips as his fingertips did the same to her waistband. She was in such a flurry she didn’t even realize where his hand had disappeared to until his lips traveled to her ear, whispering how wet she had become before a wave of heat ran up her spine, arching her back against his touch as his cold hand palmed her most sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Choking on air, she breathed deeply into the skin exposed on Troy’s neck above her. Her fingernails gripped the jean jacket covering his shoulders as he nipped little bites down her neck and onto her chest. His movements faltered as he glanced up, catching sight of the woman clenching her eyes closed, teeth gritted on her bottom lip sure to cause blood. Something about that aroused Troy further, quickening his hand free from her jeans and making short work at removing the slightly damp piece of clothing. 

Staring down at her form, Troy felt his member twitch, longing to be free from it’s confines. She wore a simple pair of blue panties that caressed her just right, barely covering her modesty from what he could see in the dimming fire light. Her thighs twitched under his gaze, her meat looking as delicious as the shy giggle that escaped her swollen lips. 

His gaze shifted up her body, taking note of every cut and bruise that covered it before locking gaze with her again. Her eyes had darkened as his did as he shrugged his light jacket off, throwing it towards a tree to their left. His white T-shirt following suit. 

From where she lay, she could see the bulge in Troy’s pants shiver with every movement she made beneath him. Her foot nudged his ass whilst he removed his shirt earning a throaty groan from the brunette between her legs. She scanned his body in the shadows, her gaze stopping on the last wound she cured. A large scar on his abdomen still ever present as a wave of his cries of pain fled like a stream through her ears. 

Troy saw the way her eyes changed, knowing she was occupied elsewhere in that pretty little mind. Clearing his throat, he regained her attention only to give her a little show taking off his jeans. He forgot she hadn’t seen the scar she herself gave him until the moment her eyes once again fell. Her fingers reached out, pulling her to sit in front of him as she ghosted her fingertips over the scaled skin. 

She sure did a good job leaving her mark. 

Troy gave her a moment, but no longer than that before his fingertips caressed her chin. His callouses rubbed her soft, cold skin raising her attention to look him in the eye. The smirk she was met with sent another shiver down her spine, this time accompanied by a hefty gulp and a new warmth dripping from her core. 

One hand dipped lower, finding her folds with ease, applying just enough pressure to earn a whimper from her as his other hand draped around her neck. With a catch in her breath, her eyes shot open with a smirk feeling his fingertips close around delicate skin. 

Her own fingers traced harder over the scales on his thigh but eventually gave in to his touch, leaning backward until her back once again met the cold, hard dirt. Her hands dug small scrapes through the pine needles cushioning around her. Troy’s grip on her throat didn’t relent as his other hand delved one digit, now warmed between the two, into her glistening core. With every pulse that clenched down on his finger, his own member reciprocated. 

The cold air around them was a welcomed element. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to resist her much longer as he rubbed his clothed cock on her inner thigh. 

He wanted her to need him. 

He waited for her to need him. 

He needed her to need him. 

As his name dripped from her lips, Troy couldn’t hold back any longer. He didn’t waste time undressing any further as he pulled his underwear down just enough to release his begging cock before replacing his finger with a much larger fulfillment. 

He watched as her eyes clenched shut, a single tear running from one corner of her eye glistening from the shallowly dancing flames. His grip on her neck released at the feeling of her nails raking down his bicep. Her touch melded with the sweet smell of her arousal and gasps of breaths, his thrusts unrelenting. Filling her to the brim over and over. Watching her face contort in ecstasy whilst he sucked in his bottom lip to keep from silent. The only thing he couldn’t muffle were the grunts and groans that escaped him and the sound of bet skin meeting wet skin with such force and need that would make even a nun blush. 

Troy felt her begin to spasm in an eruption of an orgasm. 

It was in her breathing. It was in her nails grazing his skin. It was in the way her body contracted around his cock. It was in the way she whispered sweet-nothings only he will ever know as she bit down on his shoulder, surely leaving yet another one of her marks on his skin. 

He knew he needed to pull out, his own release matching hers. But the way she felt, how she looked, the way she smelled and sounded filled his senses and all Troy could think about was painting those glorious, tight walls of her with his seed. It was a dangerous game they were playing, he knew that. 

And still he did as he pleased. 

His body fell atop hers. All strength leaving him in his release as he collapsed above her, limp dick still within her walls feeling every pulse her body made. 

Everything was silent, the world seemed to disappear as the two soaked up each others heat as the sweat balls rolled off each others skin and into the earth below. 

When the sun began to rise, shining brilliantly through the fog lifting from the tree tops, the pair shared a look. 

“We should get going I suppose. One more day to camp, right?”

Troy nodded silently, a small grin returning to his swollen lips as he chewed his tongue slightly. “I’ve been used to sleepless nights, but this one took a bit more out of me so keep it slow.” 

The woman giggled hopping to her feet and extending an open hand down to Troy, both fully knowing if he took it he'd pull them both down.

“Who knew you’d be such a little chatter box after intimacy, Mr. Otto. The sleeplessness wasn’t fully my fault I do recall.” 

Troy leaned his head back against the tree where both were once propped up on, a toothy smile adorn on his tired and satisfied face. His chest heaving with a silent laugh before shoeing her hand away with a grunt to his feet.   

[platinumrosetail]

Can I have yandere Macaqua and sun x mk older sister. Separately

Like the reader is from the future and was sent to the past on a accident Join the journey to the West with the monkey boys

But the boys fell in love with her and was obsessed with her but didn't know she was from the future.

So when the reader final got back to the future with her precious little brother mk who is also like a son to her cuz she raised him. But also finds out that the monkey king is his mentors and Macaqa as well and she try to tell mk don't tell them about her. Plus she doesn't want to break his heart about what they are like. There true SLef plus she pergent with there cub. So during the fight with lbd mk says he needs to get his sister/mom and says reader name and says there with cub

And they snap at that and fight and win against Lbd and sun who was taken over snaps out of it when he hears that cuz his dealing is having another Cub ( we all know sun and Macaqa think of mk like a son.

And this time they won't let them go

I am speechless as this is such a cool and interesting request!! Hope I do it justice that it deserves!!

Also me and hoshi (this lovely darling) both talked and she meant that mk is the cub that (Y/n) raised as her little brother so letting you guys know about that before I start!

I checked in with how his and she changed from them being separate to being shadow peach x reader so a heads up about that!!

Warning: noob author, female reader, yandere characters, and others

Characters: sun wukong, macaque, separately.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shadowpeach:

It was when you were attacked by a group of demons did you meet sun and the others. You had heard stories from tang about them so you quickly know who they are and that they would save you because of Tripitaka being with them.

Sun was still suspicious of you even though he can clearly see that you hold no aura like a god/goddess or demon would have when he looks at their direction. Pigsy like you but that was because of his fixation and liking towards woman. Sandy was definitely like the one from your time and like with your sandy you get along great with this sandy as well plus it confirms both yours and sandy theory about the reincarnation. Tripitaka was a sweet and caring one, trying to make sure you’re comfortable, but is simply too naive and such a damsel in distress that it gets tiring and stressed when he believed every demon made up story.

Which is why you and monkey king gets along with each other than before now with how you two try and convince Tripitaka that he should at least be cautious and suspicious with how there’s been many demon kidnappings .

Some of the demons also went as far as kidnapping you and Tripitaka which infuriated monkey king than it should have which he soon understands why when the group had visited a town and he saw another male flirting with you even though you clearly showed signs you weren’t interested plus one time when you were helping a lost child find their mother.

You had met macaque the sixes eared by pure chance when you went up on the roof for some fresh air also making sure to bring your weapons that you soon started to use against the demons that try to come after you as well as Tripitaka you two talked for a a bit and he told you about how you shouldn’t trust the monkey king as he betrayed him and his kingdom all those years ago but you quickly explained to macaque what had happened about when he disappeared from them.

You were shocked that monkey king was in a relationship with macaque as there wasn’t anything said about their relationship but you guess that it was kept a secret for reasons unknown to you.

You, monkey king, and macaque had started falling in love with each other once you finally had them rekindled their relationship that monkey king didn’t know was even broken. Though soon after you three become an item monkey king soon gave you permission to call him sun, macaque had already allowed for you to call him macaque.

With the intimate times you three had spend together with no sort of protection it wasn’t long before you fell pregnant you were going to tell them but before you could you were swiftly pulled back into your time like when you were pushed back to the past. Your sudden disappearance made the two demon monkeys furious with each other as they thought the other was hiding her for themselves which lead to sun killing macaque out of blind rage, though what the two did know was that she was with a child from their senses put together.

Tang and pigsy were shocked to finally see you’re pregnant after a month of searching ways to get you back. Pigsy scolded you but you had explained that it the child was made from love rather than a one night stand gone wrong though the more you thought about it you think it would be best if you raised the child as you’re brother rather than your son, which tang and pigsy hesitantly agreed as it was your child and they only want the best for you and the child.

Your son grew up to be a energetic young man;he get’s your kindness, suns liking for bright coulombs, and dark hair from macaque though he doesn’t know about this as pigsy, tang, sandy and you kept it a secret as you didn’t feel exactly ready for a child at that very moment and cause of protection of any kind as there still could be enemy’s from macaque and sun still alive till this day.

When mk showed off sun’s staff he interpreted your shock as something like the others but really it’s how he found his actual father’s staff. When he started training with sun and soon after macaque you had hoped that he only briefly mentioned you or never mentioned you at all as you don’t want to go through the heart break of seeing them having moved on from what happened between the three of you so hopefully mk took pity on you without him knowing and spared you.

When sun had heard your name from mk he couldn’t only think it was someone different and not his (Y/n) as she and their cub would most likely be dead by now, maybe the cub still being alive with his and macaques blood but with how the cub has a quarter of humans blood they could be too old to be able to do the things he sadly missed out on.

Though when he finally joined the group and seen you still young and thriving made him have all sorts of emotion in him which lead him to only stare at you most of the time if it weren’t for the others questions and needing to guid the others to the samadhi fire.

Macaque had known you were alive but couldn’t interact with you in fear of what lbd would do to you if she found out about you.

When sun got amnesia from the pepper he was shocked to see you as it been a long while that he started to think you and the cub had passed away before the cub was able to be born. He hugged you but made sure to be carful and mindful as he has a lot of strength and caused he might hurt the non existing baby that he doesn’t know is already born.

It wasn’t until sun got possessed by lbd did mk’s true father or fathers were brought to light which broke lbd spell that she had on sun and soon after lbd was defeated and you three rekindled your relationship plus having a sun along with another one on the way soon after.

(A/n: hoped you like what i did with it! And i did more than 7 paragraphs as i thought it was needed for this request. Anyway hope you have a wonderful day/evening/night!!)

[needfantasticstories]

Battle of the Sugar Water Bowl

It was a busy day at Lon Lon Ranch. 

“Hyrule, honey, Time tells me you’re good with fairies.” Malon approached as Hyrule passed a bale of hay to Warrior. 

“What?” Hyrule dropped the next hay bale before Warrior could grab it. Did Time tell Malon about my fairy form? 

“Sorry if I startled you, dearie! I just want to ask a favor, If you’re alright with it.”

Hyrule smiled to hide his surprise. “Oh! Sure, Miss Malon.”

“The fairies haven’t come around to the sugar water all week. I like that we have so many pollinators around, but they only drink from the bowl, and I know Time is worried about the missing fairies. He says you might be a good person to ask.”

“Sure! I can check things out.” 

“Thank you, sweetheart. Oh, and be careful. I got some nasty stings when I went out there last time. Best not tell Wild or Warrior. I don’t want them to find a reason to use their fire rods, and burn down the barn or something.” She laughed as she walked away. 

Hyrule smiled to himself. Those two would never be allowed to live down the flaming log incident.  

He found the sugar water easily enough, and the bees. To his dismay, as Malon said, no fairies flitted over the water. No glittering reflections. Only a sprawling swarm of bees gathered all around the bowl, and on every surface around it. Hyrule stood what he thought was a safe distance away, but the bees lifted from the water’s edge like a fog, their wings beating with the sound of static and their shadows fell dark on the water’s surface. The sound of their buzzing grew louder, faster, and as if on a signal they careened towards him.

“What?!” Hyrule shouted, and he ran, covering his head as the black fog gave chase. 

…

“Hyrule, what’s going on?” Four called as Traveler slammed the barn door shut. Four had modified a corner of the barn into a forge, and at Hyrule’s sudden appearance he set down his hammer and quenched the glowing iron, steam rising in a pale cloud, and he came running to check Hyrule.

Hyrule gasped, “It’s… it’s the bees! They’re…” Sweat dripped down his temples, and he panted like Wolfie after a hunt. “They… they chased…”

“Bees?” Four raised one eyebrow, incredulous. 

Hyrule only nodded.

“Bees?” Four asked again, both eyebrows arched, but looking slightly less skeptical.

“I think…might be...infected!”

“What? Hyrulle, they’re not monsters. How could they be infected?” 

Hyrule panted as he explained, “Don’t know! …bees have…never…chased me! Why didn’t…anyone…tell me… about…the stingers!”

Hyrule showed his bracers to Four. The bodies have been smeared and scraped beyond recognition, but he could see at least eight thick stingers embedded in the leather. Thicker than any bee should have. 

“Huh.” Four stripped off his blacksmith gear and pulled Hyrule by the hand to an upturned pot in another corner. “Okay, I think I have an idea. Take your fairy form, and wait for me here.” He pointed to the pot.

Hyrule did, though he realized only then how low his magic was after jumping up and down from the roof for repairs that morning. He changed, then watched in shock as Four shrank down into a crack in the ceramic. He looked for him to walk out, flat, like Legend had once shown him. How strange that two heroes can– his thought cut off as he saw a tiny, insect-sized Four climb out from the pot. 

“Alright, I have an idea,” Said Four, cutting off Hyrule’s surprised stuttering. “I’ll explain later. I don’t like the idea of infected bees, so let’s hurry and see what’s going on.”

Hyrule laughed. He couldn’t help it. Four was already so tiny, so this almost made sense, somehow. 

Four shoved him, and Hyrule bent over double, leaning on his knees as he laughed harder. “Sorry! But! HAHA! Four! Hehehe! Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

 Four crossed his arms and glared. “Hmmm. Maybe to avoid having people laugh at me?”

“Oh come on! You know I’m not laughing at you. It’s just so surprising! Finally, there’s someone else my size!” 

“Alright, Fine.” He uncrossed his arms, but he still looked a bit cross.  “Let’s get this over with.”

Four shared the plan. 

…

Hyrule was used to flying. He was not used to riding.

“How do you control this thing?!” he shouted over the buzz of flapping wings. The bird jerked him from side to side. He’d seen hummingbirds for the first time in other eras, but not once had he wanted to ride one. 

It was Four’s turn to laugh. “I thought you knew how to fly!”

“Oh come on!” Hyrule shouted back. He felt himself slipping backward as the bird zigged and zagged. Hyrule hoped it wasn’t trying to buck him off. Either way, it was having the same effect. 

“Like I said! Just lean into the direction you want to go!” Four called, looking as if he did such mind-bending feats on any normal Tuesday. 

Hyrule’s wings made this difficult, using them as he always did to keep his balance, but at last he let them drop and held onto the silky feathers for dear life, and leaned forward into the thrumming, rainbow colored neck. He barely held on as his hummingbird shot forward. 

Four followed, and in no time at all they arrived at the sugar water bowl. 

As fierce as they had seemed to Hyrule when he was large, the insects at this size looked terrifying. A writhing dark mass of bodies covered the edge of the bowl, nearly drowning one another in their attempts to get close enough to the sugar water. The mass crawled on the wooden fence all around it too, and the branches of the trees and bushes nearby were painted in black, yellow, and red.  They had stopped lapping at the precious liquid and all their multifaceted eyes turned to them. Their abdomens thrummed so loudly Four and Hyrule could hear it over the sound of their birds.

“These don’t look like normal bees,” Four said, pulling his bird to a stop when he noticed them watching. His bird chittered nervously at the scene as well, and drifted backwards as it hovered. 

“What do they normally look like?” Hyrule wasn’t very familiar. Bees were a rare sight. He’d only ever seen the hives they kept in the castle gardens in passing, and a few from a distance in the other eras. They usually flew away when he came near enough to watch them. 

“They’re not supposed to have a third eye, especially not a red one!”

Oh. It was smaller than their black eyes, but now Hyruel could see a third eye, disturbingly human-like but with a red pupil and yellow iris. This black-lidded eye opened sideways, like two doors closing and opening. Hyrule shivered at the eerie sight. 

“So are they mimics?” Four asked, watching them. 

“They’re just staring at us. What are they after?”

We can’t know unless they make a move, but we can’t take too many chances until we know what we’re up against. Change of plan. I’ll go find—” A percussive sound nearby made them freeze. 

Legend’s voice carried around the corner of the barn. “Hey, Hyrule! Twilight? Four? You over here?” 

“Legend, wait! Stop!” Four cried out, but the Veteran could not hear them. He was coming closer, though luckily not in view of the sugar bowl yet. 

“Four! Twilight! Rulie! Wild says lunch is ready! Where are you?” 

At the sound, the bees rose and made for Legend, just as they had to Hyrule. But Hyrule had been warned by Malon about the bees–or rather, the monsters that looked like bees. Legend had not.  

“Stop!” Hyrule shouted. He leaned hard to intercept them. His bird hesitated a moment, but Hyrule leaned harder into it, and it shot toward the swarm with a speed he’d never imagined. It was worse than Legend’s pegasus boots! But he white-knuckled the iridescent feathers until the bird flew between the swarm and Legend.  

“Hyrule! No!” Four’s tiny voice barely registered in his thoughts. The entire swarm buzzed before him, red eyes glowing. 

“Oh f-” He didn’t have time to react before they zipped forward. The hummingbird squeaked, bucked him off, and darted away. 

Four had planned ahead, luckily. Hyrule drew out a borrowed needle-sized sword and a thimble-like shield. The bees, or tiny monsters that looked like bees, swooped in for the attack. The first curled a gleaming black stinger under its abdomen, and flew low overhead to strike him. Hyrule dropped and dodged, and then gave chase as it continued on toward his friend. Hyrule barely managed to keep up, but as they neared the barn he landed on the bristle-covered back and sliced off both wings with the blade. Despite being so small, it felt perfectly balanced and natural in his hand. Four was full of wonders!  

Hyrule flew up as it dropped down, and readied his blade for the next. He sliced easily through its wings too, flying up from behind, and the next met the same fate as he sped through them. He wished he could use Thunder, but he’d need his full form and was already low on magic. He wouldn’t have enough to change back for a few hours, even though the fight invigorated him. 

Behindhim in the swarm, he could hear Four’s bird thrumming as it darted to and fro, harrying them from behind. 

The next beast dropped on him from above, and the stinger lunged at him. Hyrule was caught in the it’s legs, his wings pinned, but he lodged both feet on either side of the stinger. He slammed his head into the creature’s eye, and it released him as it stopped to pad at the damage. He did not hesitate, and lifted his blade into the head as he flew up from below. 

Black ooze gathered in a drop on his needle blade.

Not just mimic monsters, but infected! Anger and panic swirled in his thoughts. Twilight’s death-defying recovery, hard earned, drove Hyrule to reach Legend with more urgency. 

Many, many more buzzing monsters had flown past as he fought. 

“Legend!” he shrieked as loud and deep as his tiny voice could manage as he flew between the bees, overtaking one after another. They had slowed as they came around the corner of the barn, apparently calm and confident in their approach, while Hyrule used every ounce of strength he had and forged ahead of the swarm once more. He had to get there first, to tell him to run, to get the others, to stay away.

“I’ll tell him!” Four cried from overhead, “You find a way to distract them!”

Hyrule nodded. He drew deep to pull up more magic, and glowed as bright as he could. 

The bees turned their red, eerie third eyes to him, and a few broke off to investigate. He swooped across the path of the swarm, cutting this way and that in their path. More and more looked to him.

“Legend!” He heard Four’s faint voice. “Get everyone inside!” 

Hyrule could have smiled, then, if he wasn't so tired.

The bee-monsters sped up, and circled ahead of Hyrule.

“No! Over here!” he screamed, but he didn’t need to. The circle closed in front of him, and the bees flew over, below, and all around, cutting him off.

They began to dive.

He dodged left, avoiding one from above. He dropped, letting one sail overhead. One came from below, and he twisted to the right, and then felt the air leave his lungs. 

Six spidery legs gripped his head and arms. It shifted, leaning forward, and something slammed low on his back. The pressure made it hard to breathe. Hyrule realized he could not scream, and gasped. No air came. They were falling. The pressure in his back throbbed, and grew warm. The monster clung to him as they fell, and as the bee monsters rose up and away the tree trunks slipped closer and closer into his periphery, he knew he was falling, dragged down, and he knew with a calm surety that he was going to die. 

A shadow passed over him, and time seemed to stop. A hummingbird dove near sword-sharp beak almost in reach, the iridescent feathers gleaming.  

Delicate claws reached and locked around his chest, and he jerked to a stop, and it felt like fire  roared in his back. The weight on his back dropped away, scraping Hyrule’s arms and wings, but the pressure on his back was suddenly gone, leaving only coldness in its place. A stinging, prickling sensation radiated out of his back, and then a heat like fire followed. Then nothing.  

The sky was a beautiful shade of blue. The smell of horses and hay were rich in the air. One bug net, then another, arced on either side of him, but Hyrule didn’t feel afraid. He knew them. Sky and Twilight. A third. Wind’s, he thought as his head dropped back, too heavy to carry. 

He was lying on hot, wet skin.The pressure on his back grew into a throbbing ache. His wings felt twisted and bruised. 

“Rulie!”

Legend! Hyrule wanted to see him, to make sure he was safe. But Hyrule couldn’t move, couldn’t open his eyes. Cold creeped into his hands and chest, running down his arms. 

“Rulie! You have to turn back!” Legend’s booming tenor voice pounded in Hyrule’s head like an army of drums. 

He arched his back, but the pressure switched to pain, and he cried out. He could feel sharp agony like a blade in his back, and his muscles spasmed. He shivered, and though he tried to relax, the shivering and swelling pain didn’t stop.

“No! He can’t change back yet!” Four’s reasonably-loud voice said from nearby. “He won’t have enough magic for healing if he does. He needs a potion! Keep him warm for now.”

“Time!” the voice boomed again, but then the air was rushing over his body, threatening to roll him off those hot hands, “Time!” The hands closed, and he wondered if they might crush him. He didn’t like being held in this state.

But the world darkened. He felt so cold. Cold filled his dreams. Winter nights without fire. Rain and chill. Fever. Cold dungeons. Ganon taunting him in the dim castle. The shadow! It was reflecting him, beating him. He stabbed it and his own side bled. Visions of Hyrule under tyranny again, but it was Shadow. He was chasing a monster, almost had him, and then he was the monster, chasing down a villager. Ganon. Ganon was in his blood. He couldn't get him out! There was fear on Dawn’s face when he broke open the lock on her cell. There was fear on Aurora’s face when she woke up to find a stranger, and all he could do was stare. But he wasn’t…

“I should have…”

“Ha! He’s awake! What is it, Rulie?” Legend’s voice was excited. 

“I should have said…”

“Don’t worry, you don’t need to say anything, Traveler. Just rest.” 

Four. Spoilsport. Hyrule tried to think. He had to tell the princesses something. He was so comfortable, lying on something soft and cool, though his back ached feverishly. 

He tried to remember. The princesses! “I should have said hello to them first.”

“What? To the bees?” Twilight’s deep voice rumbled.

“Haha!” Time’s deep, rich laugh made Hyrule smile, it was large but not too loud. Comfortable. He could hear the others sigh or laugh, a tension in the air all around breaking like a spell. “I think he’s going to be okay. Alright, let’s give him some space to rest.” 

Feet thundered away. Hyrule struggled, but managed to open his eyes at last. 

“Rulie, you idiot!” Legend’s face filled the space above him, a familiar giant. One fat tear hung from his friend’s giant-sized nose. It dropped, and splashed beside him.  

“Hey, gross. Oh, Vet, don’t go near the bees, okay?”

Legend shook his head. “You know what? Fine.” Legend laughed and wiped his face. “But no more chasing bees, at least not without me. And especially not if they’re infected monsters. Deal?” Legend pulled his head away. 

Hyrule struggled to track him, but found he’d laid down on a bed nearby. He looked around himself. He’d been placed on a small pillow set on the bedside table in the larger spare bedroom room at Lon Lon. “Mmm hmm. Deal. Did the fairies come back?"

"Yeah, they did, Rulie. They did."

"Huh. Good. Goodnight.” Hyrule couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

“‘Night, Rulie. Get better quickly.”

Someone even bigger than Legend moved on his other side.

“Is he going to be okay?”

Hyrule loved the deep rumble of Twilight's voice. Like a force of nature, like thunder in a storm, but safe. Wolfie. 

“Din, I hope so. His whole back was just… it was spreading everywhere and just…”

“I know. But he’s fought shadows before. He’ll be okay.”

In the silence that followed, Hyrule drifted to sleep once more, and he dreamed of fairies.

[strwbrryhtl]

Blessed are the Meek that Seek Absolution - Chapter 3

Claudia sat as her father huffed around their sitting room, his business partners all smoking cigars and drinking the whiskey her father had imported from Ireland once a month. She had heard the same story of men coming onto the boat they were playing poker on and stealing whatever they could at least ten times now. If hearing the same redundant story could make ears bleed, she figured her brains would’ve melted down the side of her face by now.

“Claudia, did you hear me?” Her fathers words snapped her out of her trance and she looked up from where here eyes had focused on her shoes and she looked at her father almost glass eyed.

“Sorry father, which part?” She mumbled and noticed how the men were all staring at her as Elizabeth came in to clear the whiskey glasses. Claudia wished in that moment she could leave the room as easily as Elizabeth could.

“I said I don’t want you going out, not while there’s trouble around.  Seriously, fifteen men boarding two ferry’s and clearing them in less than ten minutes!” William said and ran a hand over his face and Claudia could only stare down at her hands.

“I mean no one was hurt,” she mumbled and she could hear her father turn towards her. “It’s only money you lost, not like they robbed one of the banks where you have an account and drained it,” she said and looked at her father with wide eyes as he stalked closer to her.

“That money put you through one of the finest schools in New York, it puts this roof over your head and food in your belly. Without money you’d be like one of the drunks at the saloon, picking pockets or having to sell yourself to get by,” William said through gritted teeth as he took her chin roughly in his hand. “You will not go out, not alone anyways. You didn’t see those men and what they were capable of Claudia, last thing I need is you becoming some lowlifes’ meal ticket,” he said and pushed her back against the couch.

Claudia had never been so roughly handled by her father, even when her mother was alive. Her mother was the one to calm him down before he could reach this point, she always figured any of her fathers anger would eventually be taken out on her mother. Her hand cradled her chin and she stood quietly, her father already turning his attention back to his guests as she left the sitting room. Her eyes welled with tears that fell quietly as she went to the kitchen, sitting down at the small table and staring down at her hands.

“Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth turned and raised her eyebrow as Claudia stared at her hands and how she quickly wiped at her eyes. “Why are you sniffling?”

Claudia shook her head and looked at the older woman sadly, her eyes glazed over as tears slowly ran from the inner corners of her eyes and down over the curve of her lip. “Why does he hate me? What did I ever do to him?”

“Your father doesn’t hate you,” Elizabeth said and sat next to Claudia, the tumbler in her hand being abandoned at the kitchen sink. Elizabeth leaned her head down to Claudia and sucked her teeth, already noticing two visible fingerprints at the girl’s jaw. “He’s just a man.”

“He sent me to New York when mama died, not even two weeks after,” she mumbled as Elizabeth dried hopelessly at the steady stream of tears. “I didn’t get a chance to grieve, I was put into writing and reading classes and taught how to mend a quilt for the next six years of my life,” she mumbled and looked at the older woman sadly. “Do I remind him of her? Is that why he hates me?”

Elizabeth leaned back in her seat as Claudia’s lip shook harder and she watched the young girl put her hands over her mouth as she cried harder, her body shaking as she stayed quiet while sobs rocked into her core. Elizabeth had known Claudia’s mother, she was a saint, a woman that everyone adored and wanted to be. Claudia’s mother and Elizabeth had grown close during the time she was employed for her, and never once did she witness Claudia’s father act in any sort of malicious way. Any time her father would get drunk or the slightest overwhelmed, Claudia’s mother was there to calm the man down, bring him back to earth with her angel like demeanor. And as Claudia sat in front of her, shaking herself into hysterics, Elizabeth knew that Claudia lacked everything that made her mother her mother.

“Your father…and men in general, they want control, Claudia,” Elizabeth said and leaned towards her, pulling Claudias hands from her mouth and looking in her bloodshot eyes. “Your father couldn’t control your mother, she was too much of a kind spirit to be controlled. But I look at you and see your mother, with how you help people in town and how smart you are, spending all that free time of yours reading medical journals and what have you,” Elizabeth said quietly and carefully put her hand over Claudia’s cheek where her father had grabbed. “He’s too blind to see that you’re just like your mother because of his own grief. And some people get that way, and they change. Or they stay like your father and grow bitter with resentment and do what they must so they can stay in control.”

“I just don’t understand why though. In all my classes and all the reading, I never heard of a man act out against his daughter or wife.”

“Then you must have read some lovely fantasy, Claudia,” Elizabeth said and stroked her cheek, watching as Claudia moved her head into her hand. “Tomorrow we can go to town, alright? Go to see what they’re making at the seamstress and see if anything new has come into the general store.”

“But father said- “

“Your father said you can’t go out alone. I’ll be with you and it’ll be daylight out, highly doubt anyone is dumb enough to go and rob stores in a town like Blackwater during the day.” Elizabeth gave Claudia a smile and pat her cheek gently. “Go to bed, I’ll be up shortly once I’m done cleaning for these men.”

Claudia stood and wiped at her eyes, still looking down at her hands. “You promise I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“It’s not us who is wrong most of the time dear, it’s them,” Elizabeth said as she turned back to the kitchen sink full of whiskey tumblers and Claudia listened to the soft clinking of crystal on porcelain as she walked up the stairs.

As she readied for bed, she looked at the photograph on her nightstand of her and her mother when she was a little girl. She must’ve been seven or eight years old in the picture as she stood behind her mother who held her small hand that rested on her shoulder. Looking up into the mirror, Claudia saw so much of her mother in herself it hurt her heart that her mother couldn’t see who she had grown up to become. Elizabeth said that Claudia reminded her of her mother, but more than anything she would give away every piece of her fathers’ investments to hear those words come from her mother’s mouth.

She drifted off to sleep, the sounds of boots and deep voices on the porch being the last thing she heard for the night. As she woke the next morning, her back ached and she sat slowly, staring ahead at the window that overlooked the small harbor of Blackwater. She must’ve slept wrong, probably cried herself to sleep and didn’t realize it.

Rising from bed and putting on her dressing gown, Claudia immediately went to the medicine cupboard and began to rummage around, pulling out bandages and needles, empty tincture bottles and dried up herbs she remembered Elizabeth swearing up and down she had boiled down for medicine. But there were no full bottles of tincture, no tins of salve for her back and she sighed. The clock across the hallway read six, and Elizabeth didn’t wake until eight at the latest. Looking into the hallway and taking a deep breath, there was no smell of coffee brewing and no quite conversation of her father reading the headlines in the morning paper out to Elizabeth.

“Store is open at six thirty, takes me ten minutes to walk and five minutes to dress,” Claudia mumbled to herself as she hurried back to her room and sat down at her vanity. She pushed away her current knitting project, the scarf she started the day after she met that kind man at the general store and pulled at her box of hair supplies. Running the brush through her hair she mumbled to herself as she grabbed a ribbon out and quickly pulled her hair onto the top of her hair in a bun and tied it off. She kept mumbling how long it would take for her to get to the store and back to herself as she took off her sleeping gown and put on her undergarments and chemise. If she cared what she looked like at six in the morning she would’ve bothered with a corset. Her dress went on quickly and she pulled on a worn leather jacket, something Elizabeth said belonged to her mother and Claudia nuzzled her sore cheek into the shoulder as she put her boots on.

Looking back at the time, it was now six fifteen. Looking somewhat presentable in fifteen minutes was a new record for Claudia, not like she needed to brag about how long it took to dress. Peeking her head into the hallway, there was still no sign of morning activity and she quickly grabbed her satchel and went down the back stairs to the kitchen and slipped out the kitchen door. As she ran down the path towards town the last thing in her mind was why the door wasn’t locked when her father normally kept the key on his person at all times and locked every door before he went to bed.

By the time Claudia made it to the store, the clerk was turning over the open sign and he smiled as Claudia leaned against the post out front. “You’re here extra early Ms. DuPont,” he laughed and Claudia gave a weak smile before coughing into her hand. She was never one for running, always choosing to find some excuse in school as to why it would be too difficult for her.

“Need medicine, nothing special just for pain,” she finally was able to breathe out and followed the clerk inside and looked around the empty store. She noticed few people milling about out front but she stared at the white and brown spotted horse outside the window. “Who does that horse belong to?”

“Man staying at the saloon, they didn’t have any room in the stable for her so I let him leave her there until he can find a place for her,” the clerk said and Claudia heard him naming off brands of morphine and opium for her to try.

“Pretty horse,” she mumbled and looked at it through the mirror, smiling as it looked up at her and curled its lip up like it was smiling. “Did you catch the mans name?”

“Callahan,” the clerk said and watched Claudia come over, holding her hand out to sign the receipt for the medicine. “Think it was that fella you had put the violin strings on your tab,” he said and Claudia looked at him as she signed her fathers name.

“Oh, Mr. Callahan,” she said and felt her cheeks burn slightly. Hopefully she still looked tired from running down the hill. “Uhm…if you see him can you tell him I say hello? And hope his shoulder is healing,” Claudia said as she took the morphine and shoved it into her satchel.

“You can tell him, he’s walking toward the horse,” the clerk said and Claudia was embarrassed at how quickly her head turned to see the man walk towards the horse, a slight limp in his gait. She quickly thanked the clerk and went outside, leaning awkwardly against the post. “Hi, Arthur,” she said and smiled as Arthur pulled a brush out of his satchel. “I like your horse.”

“Oh, hello Miss DuPont,” he said and tipped his hat at her and smiled. “This is Boadicea,” he said and carefully ran the brush from the top of her head down her long slender neck. “What brings you to town so early?”

Claudia watched as he methodically brushed out the horse and she took a deep breath as she felt the pain from this morning creep into her back. “Oh uhm, needed some morphine,” she said and held her satchel up. “What’re you doing up so early?”

“Boadicea needs to walk around, might go do some hunting for the butcher and pick up some extra money,” Arthur said and looked over to Claudia. “Would you like a ride home?”

Claudia looked back to the hill where her house was and then back at Arthur, nodding slightly. “I’ve uhm…I only know how to ride side saddle though.”

“Oh there’s no need to worry about none of that side saddle stuff, Boadicea won’t buck you or nothing,” Arthur chuckled and quickly put the brush away before fishing an apple out of his satchel and letting Boadicea munch on it lazily before he mounted her. “Give me your hand.”

Claudia took a deep breath and looked down at herself before walking over to Arthur and grabbing his outstretched hand. She yelped in slight surprise as he easily lifted her off the ground and helped situate her behind him. “You do that a lot?”

“I’ve got practice,” Arthur chuckled as Claudia held onto his arm and mumbled to herself as she got comfortable on the horses rear. “Used to have another lady ride with me, but she would have put up a bit more of a fight about getting on.”

Claudia huffed and held onto Arthur as she pushed herself closer to him so she wouldn’t fall off. “Sounds like a smart woman.”

“Debatable,” Arthur mumbled under his breath and glanced back as Claudia looked around at the waking countryside. “You okay there Miss DuPont?”

“Yes,” she said and took a deep breath and looked at him, smiling slightly. “How is your shoulder? You pulled me up with your hurt arm.”

“Oh it’s better, nothing those stitches and a couple days rest couldn’t fix,” Arthur shrugged and focused back on the route ahead of them. Arthur kept his eyes on the road but he could still feel Claudia’s eyes on him, wet like peaches as he felt her breath on his neck and looking at the potential bruise that along the back of his spine.

As they approached the DuPont home, Claudia felt her own spine stiffen more than it already was as she saw her father standing on the porch, his pistol in hand. “Shit,” she mumbled under her breath and grabbed Arthur’s arm tightly. “That’s my father, he’s going to kill me.”

“Oh come on why would your father – “

“Claudia DuPont you get your ass here right this instant! Sneaking out of the god damn house at the crack of dawn!” Her father shouted and aimed the pistol at Arthur who immediately held his hands up as Claudia fell to the ground awkwardly from the panic. “Who the hell are you?!”

“Arthur Callahan sir, just bringing the young lady home,” Arthur said as Claudia stepped away from Boadicea who stomped her foot into the ground. “She was at the general store buying some medicine.”

“Claudia?” Her father shouted, eyes still on Arthur as Claudia opened up her satchel and with trembling hands held up the two bottles she purchased. “Why the hell did you leave?”

“M-my back hurt,” she squeaked out and glanced at Arthur who kept his eyes on her father. “You can talk to Mr. Garrison down at the general store, he can tell you I’m not lying!”

“Mr. DuPont, it’s just some medicine,” Arthur chuckled and watched as William waved her inside, his hand pushing at her back roughly before closing the door behind him. Arthur felt his hand form into a slight fist as he lowered his arms.

William lowered his gun slowly, his eyes trained on Arthur who rubbed along the side of Boadicea’s head. “Why should I believe the word of some…drifter?”

“Well the people at the saloon, and the jail, and the general store, and about every other store in town can tell you that I’m an honest man,” he said and walked towards her father slowly. “I’m just passing through, doing odd jobs until I can get some steady income.”

“And how long have you been doing that in Blackwater?” William was feeling rightly paranoid after what had happened on the ferry, and though Arthur didn’t appear to be like the kind of person who would rob a ferry, he couldn’t trust anyone he didn’t know at the moment.

“Couple weeks. Was traveling from up north and found myself injured,” Arthur said as he stood at the bottom step of the porch. He glanced towards the window and saw four eyes peeing from behind the lace curtains of the sitting room, two heads moving frantically as they looked between the other. “Really sir if you don’t believe me you can talk to the manager at the saloon, I’ve rented a room there for the time being.”

William watched Arthur, his hand stroking his chin slightly. “Why’d you bring up the jail then?”

“Noticed some bounties were posted outside when I was walking by and looking for available rooms,” Arthur shrugged. “I can handle a gun, mostly for protection,” he said and looked down as William tucked the pistol into his belt. Arthur figured a man that rich had no idea how to use such a small handgun, the thing might not have even been loaded.

“Well excuse me for my…outburst but if you’ve been around town you might have heard of some of the problems that have occurred recently. People being robbed and some of the coaches coming in with hurt drivers, that sort of thing,” William said and glanced back towards the window and let out a breath as the curtains quickly shut. “Claudia and our maid, I just need to keep them safe.”

“Understand sir, your daughter though was just getting medicine – “

“And how is it you know my daughter?”

Arthur stood up slightly and rubbed at his hurt shoulder, wincing to himself. “I was uh, I was at the general store and she offered me some free medical advice,” he chuckled.

William rolled his eyes and just nodded. “Sounds like my Claudia, putting her nose where it doesn’t need to be. I’m sorry if she bothered you or told you something wrong, but you – “

“Actually she was able to help me a hell of a lot more than the doctor did,” Arthur said and smiled, putting one foot on the first step of the porch and watching William. “Kind girl, your daughter.”

William bit the inside of his cheek and nodded, stepping back towards the house. “Well thank you for bringing her home…I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name so I can make sure you’re not some thug with the sheriff.”

Arthur took another step up the porch and smiled smugly at William, his eyes studying the face of the rich man and he could only see layers of hidden greed and power hungriness. He had seen that face plenty in his life already.

“Arthur Callahan. And you, you’re William DuPont, correct? The lumber king of these parts?”

William stared at the younger man who slowly inched his way up the porch and froze in his place. “Someone in town call me that?”

“Only a few, when I asked who the kind girl was who helped me,” Arthur said and turned as Boadicea began to stomp at the ground. “It was nice meeting you, hope your daughter feels better,” Arthur said and backed away from the house and mounted Boadicea quickly. He could see the curtains were pulled again and he tipped his hat to Claudia who watched from the sitting room as he rode away.

The front door opened and slammed quickly and she turned to see her father pushing the deadbolt into place. “The nerve of that man I mean really!”

“What did he do, father?”

William huffed as he took the pistol and slammed it down into the side table drawer before looking at Claudia. “You better hope that he is who he says he is, Claudia.”

She stared at him in confusion as he mumbled his way into the kitchen, pushing past a confused Elizabeth who held a tea cup for Claudia. “Mixed the medicine into your tea…what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, but if that Arthur fellow can get father worked up like this I might want to see him again soon,” she said quietly and drank her tea, feeling an almost instant relief from the medicine.

Tag List:

@photo1030 @lunawolfclaw @rivetingrosie4

AO3 Link

[blackrabbit111]

~Twst android au, prequel draft~

"You are the sole heir to the worlds top tec company that makes everything from military weapons to remotes. Raised alone by your grandfather, you've found yourself alone since his passing and are struggling to find someone to turn too.

On a whim you go looking for one of his crack pot inventions in one of his old factory's. Only to find more then you were looking for"

An au fic I wrote months ago but never shared cuz insecure, But I'm down so I say heck to it 👍

Feed back and critic is appreciated especially on grammar😅Not sure how much I'll keep or if I will even make more but I might as well share what I've already made

The sound of a switch echoed as the warehouse lights shot on in uniform order one by one until the massive hanger sized warehouse was lit up. 

The walls and roof were vast and the rows upon rows of shelves were endless, each filled with who knows what? All different types of machinery, a tec nerd might see this as some gold mine full of decades worth of technology going back nearly fifty years according to your newly bequeathed assistant. 

You hadn’t even changed clothes yet. You were still in these uncomfortable shoes, these stuffy black clothes that were far too warm to wear indoors, even your hair had been newly styled at your “guardians” request. 

You don’t even remember most of the day ... just stepping into the car. 

“Master Yuu?” Your assistant’s voice tore you from your mindlessness, you hadn’t even noticed they’d stopped. You’d just kept walking down the isle of discarded tec. 

“O-oh? Sorry Mira, and please don’t call me that” You asked, your voice quite as always. You hated having to force a smile but manners like other things had been drilled into as a child, so you had no choice. 

“Of course, sorry” She gave you a sympathetic smile, one of the few you’d had despite the circumstance. With your years forcing smiles you had grown to recognize when someone else was faking it too. 

Mira was genuine at least “Are you sure you're up to this? We can wait a few more days?” 

You appreciated the thought, but your hand was going numb from signing forms. The owners of such documents, the sources of most of those forced smiles, they knew better than to be honest about what they wanted. Or else risk upsetting you and with the power you now had none of them could afford such a thing, for some literally. 

You shook your head no “I’m fine, just tierd. This is the third warehouse we’ve checked after all”  

Might as well of been the one hundred with the size of these things?! Your college campus was half the size of the last one 

“Could you go check with the site manager and see if they had any luck tracking it down? I’d like to keep looking around on my own” 

She nodded, lingering a bit before turning back to leave the way you both came her footsteps faded to echo’s and suddenly you were alone. 

The shelves were daunting like this, shaded over from the different levels framed the discarded bot shells in a creepy way. Yet that wasn’t what was on your mind. 

Not much … had been on your mind lately …  

Everything had felt- fuzzy? 

You were never the greatest at showing your feelings, you’d certainly been teased enough because of it growing up. 

It was easier to just make friends. (literally) 

Rustling through your pocket you pulled out an old worn leather-bound book. Its pagers were flakier than the old coot that had left it for you. Sticky notes and faded pages stuck out and fell lose as you flipped back through its ancient pages. 

Sketches, notes and old diagrams were all etched into it. Most had been released, just one of his many sketch books you’d had the ‘joy’ of flipping through. 

But there was one page that had caught your interest, 

“Project Wonderland” God he sucked at naming things. 

Among the faded doodles these few seemed the oldest, added in safter the pages had already been filled? Even Mira didn’t know what it was, and she seemed to have known more about his company than he had. She knew him more than you had... 

“Project Wonderland, Log #037. 

So far, all prototypes for model “Heart” have remained lacking, subject Ace ________ ____hap ___ _______ ___ ___ ___  ___ ____  ___________________ ________Riddle remains____ __________ ,strict rules_ _________. Further_______ ______ ______” 

The rest was too faded. 

Most of the scribbles summed up that amount. Even the more salvageable ones left too many holes to piece together anything that made sense? 

You groaned trying to make sense of it all. This was just a way to get away from all the work you still had to do, Mira’s suggestion, if not you’d probably still be sat behind that oversized desk, in that oversized chair signing the endless rotation of papers brought by your newly acquired legal department.  

Attending the by hourly meetings on new bot colors, branding and all the other topics you didn’t understand. That didn’t stop the bombarding you with requests and asking your opinions … more demanding... 

Day in day out, 

Right up until- 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

 You were again torn from your invasive thoughts, the pitchy voice crying out from your pocket. 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

Pulling the device from your pocket its screeching only seemed to get louder- 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

Small, grey with a bright blue screen. Its body, an old tomogachi toy you had as a kid, now turned into a travel sized version of an ai interface. Your first attempt, robots were child's play to you. At the age of ten you were making drones on par with your grandfathers. You could code before you could spell your own name, which made passing online tests a breeze. 

Ai was different, specifically intelligent ones. 

Nowadays it was rarer to see a machine that didn’t have some type of interface built in, even kid’s toys could remind the child to brush their teeth. But the ones used for androids, the ones running shop tills and driving buses.  

Those were harder for you. 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

“ALRIGHT! Sheesh....” 

 Generated, Response, intelligence, Model #008. Or Grim for short, you were still working out the kinks. Somehow it had begun to prioritize meal notifications, despite it being near 6pm it kept on screaming for lunch until you clicked off its alarm. 

It’s been nearly 2 weeks since you’d last had a free moment to look at the code, which meant round the clock alerts at random. 

You let out an audible groan “Maybe this really is a waste of time? ….....” 

You stared at the old, tattered book in your hands. His name engraved in white tread across the wine-red material 

“......” 

“......” 

“......” 

How were you supposed to feel? You didn’t know? 

You never knew, so when you could you’d just avoid it. Avoid feeling much of anything? 

Hence the names the other kids called you.  

“Freak-droid”, “Robot”, “dumb as a bot” .... it wasn’t your fault; you just weren’t good at being like them. You eventually learned to pretend, to force a smile or a chuckle when needed. 

It was better anyway; the robots were better. 

More time to hone your skills, why make friends when you can build them? That’s what you told yourself. 

Alone at school, alone at home... 

Nothing had changed … those two weeks ago.. 

You were still eating alone,  

Still spending the evenings alone, 

Still walking through those empty halls alone.... 

He was your only family, yet you were lucky if you saw him twice in one week. Either locked in his lab or at the office. He was never there. He was just, not with you, not beside you. 

You’ve always been alone, so why- 

“......” 

Why now … did you feel so- 

“......” 

His name engraved in white tread across the wine-red material 

You looked back at the books cover, His name still engraved in white tread across the wine-red material... 

 He was gone now... 

You were now … alone... 

“......” 

“......” 

“......” 

It was quiet here.... 

“Project ...wonderland?” you mumbled out loud. You don’t know why, but you began giggling. 

This was so unlike you, wandering around aimlessly. After this crazy idea that- that this MYSTERIOUS project could somehow be for you! Could somehow help you explain how to do a job you didn’t want or how you were supposed to feel or how to make this STUPID AI tell you about something other than LUNCH!!! 

“......” 

“......” 

“......” 

It was stupid of you … to think that... 

“......” 

“......” 

“......” 

You sniffled, having to dry your eyes before anything came out. You shook your head trying to think straight. 

It had been a good distraction, but it wasn’t important. You could get some intern to find it for you, you had those now apparently and they seemed despite. They nearly decked each other the first time you met after asking for a drink. 

Give extra credit to whichever one found it~ 

Perfect! You took another sharp inhale and turned to leave, ready to head back to the office. No doubt there would be a whole new stack of papers there to greet you when you arrive. 

Only to crash face first. 

Stumbling back, you looked up confused, there wasn’t anything behind you a moment ago- 

What you saw made you jump.  

He was tall, like REALLY tall. The dim light in of the war house casting his dark slender form in a shadow simply from looking down at you, his raven hair falling over his broad shoulders, his chiseled features pale as a ghost yet sharp and defined. 

He looked almost ethereal, if not for his eyes... 

They cut through the shadow that painted his form as if they glowed like screens in the dark. 

A piercing green that seemed to dance through the many shades, cut through by the black slit of his pupils. 

You were speechless, almost afraid to move in case he might pounce. A green grew on his face, as if your nerves amused him. 

“Are you okay?” 

His voice was deep, smooth, yet his tone was gentle? You were able to relax a little more but were still wary. Why was he here? Had he been following you?! 

“What do you want?” You ask bluntly, your voice is flat, yet he only seems to grin more at it letting out a small chuckle. 

“You were looking for something weren’t you? It’s a big facility, so I thought you could use some help” 

“How did you-?!” 

“Your assistant went back to speak the site manager; I noticed you weren’t with her, I’m sorry if I'm interrupting you” His appearance was still daunting, but he seemed genuine enough? You assumed he must work here. 

“O-oh? No, it’s alright, thank you. I was just heading back anyway” 

His head tilts “No luck then?” 

You shock your head “Something like that” Your forced smile grew back, deciding to be pleasant instead “I have better things to be doing is all, could you point me towards the exit?”   

A hand lifts to his chin as he lets out a hum in thought. 

“I believe I know a short cut? You took a rather unorthodox route here from what I could tell” He beamed again raising one hand to his chest while extending the other to guide the way, his sleek yet dark appearance, butler like movements plus his kind smile brought to mind a certain show you’d watched a few years ago? 

You thanked him, walking past him down the isles weaving left or right with his direction. 

He walked a few steps behind you simply directing you as a turn came up, otherwise you were both silent. 

The route was bizarre? Weaving in and out like an ally cat over a neighborhood's walls or roof tops, a fair comparison with his dark hair and and bright eye color, all in all you felt more lost than anything? 

Did he really know the way? His assuring nature just made him feel like he knew what he was talking about? 

“Sorry, but are you sure-?” Concerned, you turned to ask him about where he was taking you only to find more empty isles of shelves. This tall dark stranger had vanished, you looked around thinking you might have just gotten ahead of him? But he was nowhere to be seen... 

You cursed under your breath.... 

He had ditched you, you felt stupid for not too of seen this coming. After your little “Episode” you’d been so frustrated to get out you didn’t even think about it. At least he’d only gotten you lost, given your new net worth MUCH worse could have happened. 

You let out another sigh, you were really done with this. 

You began to dig around in your pocket for your phone, deciding to just call Mira and the staff to come find you. 

As you pulled it out your annoying- you're in need of updating Tamagotchi toy tumbled out with it. 

You groaned again, just one more thing gone wrong. 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

It had slid under one of the shelving units, peering underneath you could just see it on the other side. The lights were out on that side, so it was a little hard to tell? 

After failing to swat at it you relented to having to try squeeze between the gaps of the two units, it was tight and the creaking noises it made as you nudged it made you nervous- 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

But you knew it wouldn’t stop sending alerts if you didn’t get it... 

So, between the metal frames it was~! 

Squeezing your way through, you just managed to make it without knocking much off, you finally reach this annoying pest of a program. 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lunch time! - 

-Nya! Lu- 

And off it goes.... 

You’re about to plop your ‘pet’ back in your pocket when a light catches your eye? 

A low flash of red was glowing from the corner pile. 

This space was narrow, a small corner tucked away behind the shelves you hadn’t been able to see with the lack of lighting and old parts blocking your view from the isle. 

Walled in by the units and the warehouse walls, meaning you could just barely squeeze in. 

Stumbling a bit, you saw the source of the low red light. 

Two sleek metal crates, each taller yourself, were stacked against the wall tucked away between bits of cardboard. Each one looked huge black versions of those fancy box's phones come in, the red light shining from beneath its seal? 

Both metal caskets had gold engraving carved into their surfaces, some type of registration number and a symbol?  

“A1-164-♥ & D2-164-♥?” each read with a golden heart displayed above? 

It took a moment to click before you were again digging through your back pocket for the withered remains of a notebook, he’d left you. 

-Model Heart- 

“Project … wonderland?” you mumbled aloud now looking at these caskets like they were some mythical creatures that had hopped out from a children's story. 

Digging through the faded pages had already been difficult, now near impossible with only the glow of these things to see. You scanned it for anything that still counted as language that mentioned these things?  

Finally, a passage mostly filled with flawed calculations caught your eye 

“___ ________ ____ sleep mode while ins____, 

_____ _______________ _______urther funds ____ ______ coffins develop___” 

“____subject Silv____ ___ _______ ________ more time in sleep_____.  

_______ _____ bug reports t_ ___________ later.” 

The rest is more faded calculations. 

The texts were mostly useless, it was the sketches that caught your eye. 

Like most of this leather-bound pile of dust the sketches were rough, looking to be more concepts rather than any type of blueprints? They mentioned some type of access panel on the front, molded to match one of the seven symbols outlined in more detail earlier in the notes. 

It was easy to assume it was that gold heart etched into the metal caskets casing. 

You didn’t really think, more just acted. 

Reaching out, you laced your palm over the etching of a golden heart. 

Nothing happened, at first, but suddenly the gold coloring was painted over by that same crimson red from under the seal. The etching became filled in causing you to flinch and pull your hand back, as if it had sent some type of signal to its twin, the other caskets matching heart also lit up now an almost blinding light. 

“Palm scan complete~ 

Connection established” An obnoxiously cheery voice sang 

“Running security check, 

Running diagnostics check, 

Running personal check” It read off line after line, running upload bars through one after the other. Most of the more complicated one’s were lost on you and your limited knowledge of software; it was much easier for you to follow the hardware terminology meaning at the very least you could piece together it was running checks on some type of high moveability machine? 

“All preparation checks complete for model’s A1-164-♥ & D2-164-♥. 

How gracious~ 

Beginning reupload of data files of model’s A1-164-♥ & D2-164-♥” It had all loaded pretty quickly until now, each screen uploading in seconds, but now- 

“Loading- 

Loading- 

Loading- 

-ERROR- 

Unable to recover crucial data, beginning recovery measures- 

-ERROR- 

-ERROR- 

-ERROR-” Both screens began to flash with alerts, as if the system’s attempts to recover whatever it couldn’t was somehow causing the other files to corrupt. You were by no means an expert, but you knew if you didn’t act soon the whole system would be unsalvageable 

“-ERROR- 

-ERROR- 

-ERROR-” still panicked, you put your hand back to the screen swiping away as many of the alerts as you could to try and get at the recovery icon. 

“-ERROR- 

-ERROR-” 

The alerts were popping up faster than you could close them, with little other choice you did the only thing you could think of in this panicked moment 

“Cancel recovery measures! Proceed with upload as is!” You yelled hoping for some type of response, and just as you did the corrupting screens froze, the loading bar froze, the whole screen froze …. before another loading bar popped up. 

Slowly it filled, there was a brief pause before- 

“Upload complete~ 

All systems ready, deactivating sleep mode for models A1-164-♥ & D2-164-♥” 

A relived sigh escaped you, the screen shut off before the crimson glow faded as both seals jutted forward a white cloud of steam blowing out as the casket undid its releases. 

The doors slid open, tucking their lids around each of their left sides. 

The cloud died down finally letting you see inside, having the squint at first you thought at first you were mistaken. But now you were certain, two figures stood within. 

One with boyish features, red spikey hair and a heart shape painted over one eye. 

The other slightly taller, features sharper with flat raven hair and a spade shape painted to match their opposite. 

Wide eyed, you didn’t notice you held a breath once they stepped forward. You tried to speak, ask them questions like if they were okay or why they were in there? Only for it to come out as mumbles once their eyes both shot open in synch. That same pixelated crimson flashing over their eyes only to fade again replaced by their respective red and blue iris’s. 

The red one blinked, you held your breath again... 

The blue one held its head staggering a bit before both their sights landed on you. 

…..... 

…..... 

….... 

You all stood their starring for a moment; afraid moving might activate some attack mode or- 

“Excuse me but-” 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH?!!?” 

[brakke-dino]

Leave me alone part2

Around a month had passed, he was doing good. He had portioned out the muesli bars to last him as long as possible. At one point in the first week he knew he heard police, as there was a faint sound of barking aswell as they were shouting his name. With seeing this he knew he wasn’t deep enough, so spider had ventured deeper into the forest for some more hours. After he hadn’t heard anyone for a while he set up camp up in a tree. He made a little fort in the tree it was small but just enough for him to sleep, he used garbage bags to water proof the roof. He had a rain water system but even if it didn’t rain there was condensation that drips on. He was happy with his knew home.

The Sullys houses

At one point the Sullys and Quaritch joined together to find spider. the toll it was taking on the kids that spider had ran off, after school they would ride their bikes around to see if they could spot him around the neighbourhood. On weekends they would all go to the woods where someone saw him on a push bike. It was this weekend where they finally found something, Kiris bike under the bridge. Lo’ak was the one to find it, they knew he went off the path finally they we’re getting somewhere. It was still early so they left the path.

They had been walking all day Lo’ak had his bike, Kiri wanted to ride her bike but she said it gave her a feeling. They all sort of spread out to find him, it was 3:00pm when Jake said it was home time. Kiri was walking back then she saw something a red packet, a muesli bar packet. “ guys over here” Kiri yelled. Moments later they were all there inspecting the rubbish. The initials L.S on the rubbish it was supposed to be Lo’aks muesli bar, they kids had to put there initials on all of there lunch and resses to stop them from stealing each other’s snacks. They knew it was spider, Kiri marked the tree.

They made there way back home. All the kids ran upstairs. They all had maps in their rooms marking places with signs of spider and possibly were he could be. They all met in Kiris room to discuss where they should look next, They got it close to the river.

Quaritch

Spider running away hurt, it showed how strongly he hated him that he would rather live homeless then with him. Quaritch didn’t know what to do leave him were he is happy with the Sullys, or finally get to have custody of him and raise him like he always wanted to do. The decision was hard so he thought he would let Spider pick, he already knew spiders answer and it hurt that he knew the kid wouldn’t even second guess. After all he did run away all because he didn’t want to be with him.

Quaritch couldn’t make it this weekends search threw the forest. He got a phone call ‘Jake’ Quaritch answered, he was happy. They finally got somewhere, finding something they managed all that without him there. It made him sad and angry but realised how much he had fucked up the kids life in just a month. Maybe spider was better off with the Sullys but Quaritch still wanted to at least hang out once a week or something. Mind due this plan can’t be made if spider isn’t even here.

Spider 

Spider spent most of the days improving is house and trying to catch a fish in the river close to the tree he was sleeping in. He would try catching the fish by pegging his pocket knife in the water at the fish, he had been successful around 7 times now but he swears the fish are getting smarter. That night as he was about to fall asleep when he remembered Kiris envelope, being honest he was scared to see what was inside. What was inside brought tears to spiders eyes, a stack of photos of him growing up with the Sullys and funny pics of them together. His favourite would be them all standing pulling funny faces. He pushed the top through a branch on the wall it hung there, spider fell asleep staring at the picture.

“Spider!” Kiri called. Spider sprung awake, was she really here still looking. how far had she walked to find him? Spider watched from the trees as she inspected all of his stuff on the floor, then she looked up.

“SPIDER!! Omg is that you I can’t believe I found you!” Kiri yelled she was so happy. Spider jumped down and gave her a hug. Spider was disappointed he was found, but glad Kiri found. Spider realised he really wanted to go home, he was sick of muesli bars and fish and really shit night sleeps.

“Let’s go home now spider please” Kiri begged. With that Spider grabbed all his things and started walking with Kiri, Kiri walked with an arm on Spiders shoulder. they made it to the path, talking the whole way. Kiri was so happy with spread to Spider. They made it to where Spider stashed Kiris bike, Spider was shocked to see the bike gone. They continued walking down the path, they finally reached the road. They were going home.

Hope you enjoyed part 2 @today-or-tumble @nashichiyo @naavispider @yesthisismycurrenthyperfixation sorry it took to long. There may be a part three on the Sullys reaction to seeing Spider is back maybe Quaritch to. If you have any questions please ask. Once again thank you for reading hope you enjoy 😊

@today-or-tumble @nashichiyo @naavispider @lost-girl-2021 @dirtytransmasc @hyperfixatedfandomer @kaspavanlortsyal @mischievousthing01 @sesshomamelia @spicymiilk @theneverendingstars @yesthisismycurrenthyperfixation