#sorry it's been brewing within me lmao

[nerice]

miquella's needle of unalloyed gold item/staggered lore reveals is so insane 2 me i am chewing on it forever. we saw malenia's prosthesis get shattered by radahn in the story trailer. we see her unleash the scarlet rot on him (and all of caelid) right after. then you (me) actually play the game. you find a girl decimated by scarlet rot in the plague church. so you go on a little quest for gowry to save millicent, get him the needle from the aeonia swamp, a needle of unalloyed gold. a broken needle of unalloyed gold......

wonder why that is :)

enter all of the millicent quest. get her the prosthesis that allows her to follow the path malenia took, rot kept at bay by the needle, all the way to the haligtree. bonus lore from gowry that very much confirms millicent is a daughter of malenia, born from the scarlet swamp left in her wake by the caelid disaster. that she is fated to become a valkyrie of unprecedented power once malenia ascends to godhood. alas, millicent has other plans,

and if you don't betray her, she entrusts the needle to you, so you can finish what she started.

WHICH IS WHY IT'S SO. that you don't get a choice but to fight malenia. interacting with the flower left after she is subsumed into godhood and subsequently defeated by you changes the item to "miquella's needle" with the full lore confirmation,

with its only in-game application being that it allows u to avert the frenzied flame ending as that's the only path that has you yourself affinied with an outer god directly. BUT THE FACT IS. miquella made this needle for his sister. he built the entire order of unalloyed gold and the haligtree itself to save malenia from the rot (as confirmed by other items) did everything he could to sever her connection to the outer god of rot (she herself too, hc it may be, severing the arm that wld have held the empyrean ring to ensure she could never become herald of this new world order) a tiny fragile needle!!! shattered in the fight versus radahn. allowing millicent a breath of life, for a while. returned to malenia too late to make a difference. (it should though!! there should be a non-conflict alternate ending but that's not how a superboss works) it worms me so!!!!!!! her fight being completely optional. the upcoming dlc. the possibility is slim but it would be wildly interesting if it opened up an alternate resolution, or if meeting miquella does come with consequences depending on your choices. whether you carry his needle, whether you killed his sister. PLEASE

[monamipencil]

── 𝗠𝗥. 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗥𝗦. 𝗬𝗢𝗢𝗡 ft. jeonghan

⛧synopsis; an intrusion, a couple, a murder and a twist. — second fic of lola's spooktober

⛧ pairings; husband! jeonghan x fem! reader ⛧ genre; smut, gore, horror ⛧ w.c; 4.1k+ ⛧ warnings; hybristophilia, body worship, blood, murder/death, description of corpse, sex on the dining table lmao, HORNY fucking, unprotected sex, oral (f.receiving) creampie, allusions to cults, devil worship, etc etc. mentions of food ⛧ a/n; *clears thorat* *coughs* im so sorry for the delay lmao, i was absolutely not motivated to write. but anyways, enjoy!!

READ AT YOUR OWN CAUTION ⛧ MDNI

[ 07th October, 2024 ]

Thunder crackles, and lightning strikes. The heavy rain pitter-patters on the windows and roofs. Water flows, flooding the streets, making them inhabitable to unlucky strays. Chaos brews outside, and you observe it from within the safety of your home. 

A ‘meow’ shifts your attention. You smile at the cat you rescued from the storm and rub its head. It meows again and shuffles to the living room, black fur disappearing behind the couch. 

“-And everyone is requested to stay at home or take shelter till further notifications. Police’s investigation into the recent murders have been halted due to the storm. We request everyone to stay sa—”

The television cuts off and comes alive again, buzzing and glitching.  You turn it off with a sigh. Except for the pitter-patter of the rain, your home is silent. The silence lays heavy on the walls and floors. You can’t seem to fill it no matter what. Your hand involuntarily touches the pendant your husband gifted you. Muttering a prayer to Him, you ask for Jeonghan's safe return to you. 

[ ... ]

The gentle sizzle of the vegetables fills your ears, and you pour water into the vessel, turning down the flame. 

Your newly adopted cat nuzzles between your legs, purring with content at the warmth. You smile and coo at it. But before you can adore it further, the doorbell rings.

You wipe your hands, contemplating whether or not to attend it. It couldn't be Jeonghan. You sigh and walk to the door. The black furball stays in the kitchen, observing you with its yellow eyes.

Looking through the peephole, you see someone shivering from the cold and absolutely drenched. Your hands fly to unlock the door, and the person is startled at the force you open it.

“Come in, please!” you move from his way. He nods his head with gratitude and walks in weakly.

Quickly shutting the door, you lock it. The stranger turns to see you secure the array of locks on the door. You greet him with a smile. He smiles back.

“I'm sorry for the inconvenience,” he apologizes, but you assure him and welcome him into your home. “Oh no, It's fine. I don't mind some company.”

He removes his drenched coat and hangs it on the coat hanger. While doing so, he notices another coat on it. “Is it just you at home, miss?”

“Mrs.” You correct him and reply, “Yes, my husband is out of town for business.”

He also removes his shoes and places them near the door, noticing another pair of shoes. “May I ask you why you are out in such a storm?”

“Ah, I turned up for work and my friend who was supposed to pick me didn't turn up.”

You give him an apologetic nod and gesture towards your living room. “Please make yourself at home. I'll quickly put together a warm soup for you.”

He tries to protest, but you reason with him and disappear into the kitchen. He sits on the sofa with a sigh and thanks God for helping him at the right time.

The low purr of a cat catches his attention. A black cat sits in the middle of the living room. It stares at him, and he awkwardly smiles at it and tries to distract himself. It leaves eventually.

The interior of your home mesmerizes him, reminding him of those vintage homes. The teal wallpapers and the antique decors mesh well together and create a homely look. The myriad of pictures on the wall near the kitchen intrigues him.

He walks towards it and observes each photo. He sees you in all of the frames, along with a man whom he deduces to be your husband. He sees all types of pictures, varying from road trips to studio ones.

“Is your husband a celebrity by any chance, Mrs. Yoon?” He inquires after seeing a frame with the writing, ‘Mr. and Mrs. Yoon.’ A vague feeling of familiarity brews in him the more he looks at your husband.

“Ah, no, no. He's devilishly handsome and he could be a great actor but he only does business.” You voice from within the kitchen, but his mind drains you out. He's more fixated on the pictures, unable to shake the feeling.

He doesn't say anything after that, but you don't mind the silence. Quietly humming, you put together the soup. You smile to yourself, thinking of your husband. If he had been here, he'd be behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he peppers kisses on your neck.

Your daydream feels almost real as you feel a presence behind you. Chuckling, you shake your head and move to grab a bowl. But before you could, a voice shouts behind you.

“Did you kill him?!” The stranger yells, anger surging through his voice. Confusion strikes you, “What do you mean?”

You try to distance yourself from him and grab a knife. His hand catches your wrist harshly, and you cry out. Acting on your instincts, you fling the pot of soup at him. He yelps as the hot liquid makes contact with his skin.

With him muttering a plethora of curses, you run out of the kitchen. The cat observes the chaos, slowly wagging its tail. The stranger blindly moves to the sink and splashes water on his face to wash off the soup.

After gaining composure, he trudges out of the kitchen with a meat knife. He checks every door and room, eyes darting to all corners to find you. His skin stings and burns painfully. He winces but doesn't let it deter him.

The floor creaks beneath his foot, and he doesn't care if it alerts you. He wants you to know where he is, to be afraid of him. He wants to make you feel fear.

A smirk pulls his lips when he notices the basement door open. He stands in front of it, observing the steep set of stairs. As he descends down, a foul stench hits him, and he covers his nose.

He struggles to find the light switch and crashes into a few things. The stench is unbearable, and he cringes. After finally finding the switch, he turns it on.

Light illuminates the room, but some things are better hidden in the dark, like the dead guy tied to the wall. He can't find it in himself to scream or even utter a word. The only noise that escapes him is a gasp.

His horror intensifies when he recognizes it as his friend. “You fucking bitch! You killed him!” 

But it seems that there are far graver things than his dead friend. The red pentagram etched on the ground makes his skin crawl. A turn of his head also reveals a board pinned with a map that has pictures of people pinned on several locations.

His heart stops beating when he finds his own picture on it.

A noise from the cupboard pulls him out of his trance, and he stalks to it. Yanking the door open, he finds you there, cowering in fear. You push him off you and run away from him. But there's no way out with him standing directly in front of the stairs.

He runs to you, pinning you to the wall. “You bitch!” Then, he cackles, “Aww, can't run anywhere now?” His grip tightens, and dread fills your gut. He leans in closer, “You're going to be so sorry for what you did when I gut you.” 

You flinch and shut your eyes. The sound of a stab echoes through the room, but you don't feel any pain.

A heavy thud echoes through the room, followed by the sound of a body falling on the floor. Warm blood dots on your face, and some stain the cotton of your slip. You gasp and shudder, chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. Your eyes land on the injured body. Blood flows from his mouth and his chest. Three holes punctured through his chest.  

You don’t need to look at him to figure out who your savior is. “Jeonghan!” you cry, throwing your arms around him. The garden fork he yields in his hands meets the floor as he hurries to take you in his embrace. 

Your lips are on his instantly, kissing him with ardor. He matches your passion, both his hands on your waist, pulling you flush against him. You curl your arms around his neck, lost in the warmth of his lips. It isn’t long before his tongue prods your lips, and you’re more than happy to oblige. 

His tongue glides over yours like it has countless other times. He shifts his head to gain a better angle and kisses you deeper. One of your hands uncurls to caress his face—his flawless skin, his high cheekbones, the bone of his jaw before it slides down further. You glide your hand over his shoulders, his lean biceps, and finally his crotch. 

Jeonghan pulls away, out of breath and overjoyed. You mirror his grin when you find him rock-hard beneath his slacks. “Oh, how I missed seeing you kill,” you finish with a giggle. 

With a playful roll to his eyes, he retorts, “it’s been barely four days since I did it.” 

“And four days since I’ve seen you.” you pout, making him doe eyes at him. He melts instantly and cradles your face. “Always hungry aren’t you?” 

“For you? Yes.”

“And for blood.” he adds, making you both giggle. 

“Come on now, you gave me something to take care of.” With a pat on his bulge, you pull him up the stairs. Jeonghan happily follows but throws a cautious glance at the presumably dead body. He smiles, catching no sign of life in him, and trails behind you. 

You strut to the dining table that adjoins the kitchen and the living room and sit on it. He grins at your place of choice, and lust taints his visage when you spread your legs, inviting him.

He stands between your thighs, taking a moment to appreciate the beauty in front of him. Little drops of blood decorate your face, but the look in your eyes entrances him. A myriad of emotions swirl beneath your irises, but he recognizes all of them, mainly lust and hunger. 

His eyes dip down to the column of your neck, which he glides his forefinger over. His finger slowly ventures down and undoes the knot of your slip. He tuts, complaining about the blood on them. “That’s fine. It gives me evidence of your love.” 

“I’m right here. The living proof of my love for you,” he pecks your lips and pushes the slip off you. 

He pulls you to the edge of the table. His fingers ghost over the cloth of your underwear, brushing against the wet spot on them. His warm breath wafts down to your breasts when he kisses your neck and chest. “I can prove it now, if you want me to.” 

A breathy moan escapes you, giving him somewhat of a ‘yes.’ With another kiss to your jugular, he pulls away and kneels down. He kisses your heat through the cotton material and smirks, eyeing the wet patch formed by your arousal. In one sly movement, he removes your hipsters.   His lips are on your heat before you can process it. He kisses your little nub and gives kitten licks to your hole. His eyes dart to your eyes, mischief swirling under his dark irises. “Jeonghan! Please!”

“Please what sweetheart? You have to use your words.” You feel his smile on your core, and his warm breath wafts against it. 

“Please, eat me out!” 

He groans and obliges to your wishes right away. He dives right in, licking and kissing your folds. He moves above, wrapping your clit between his soft lips. He sucks on the bundle of nerves, tongue flicking at the bud softly. He makes sure to look at you the entire time he’s buried between your legs. 

You relax and lay back down on the table. He spreads your legs further and licks up stripes on your sopping cunt. His tongue provides you the utmost pleasure, and moans fall from your lips freely. He switches to a slower pace as if he’s making out with your cunt. 

His tongue prods your folds, licking and savoring your taste. His hand moves to spread your lips, and he places a wet, loud kiss on your clit. A gasp escapes you when his tongue slips past your hole. He slowly moves his tongue in and out while he thumbs at your clit, drawing circles. 

He tones up his pace, getting faster and faster. Your legs tremble around his head as the coil in your stomach tightens. You cum the easiest whenever Jeonghan touches you after a “long time”—which is three days at the least. He seems to have some magic hidden up his sleeve to bring you the utmost pleasure possible. And, of course, all your years of marriage add to it.

The pressure on your clit builds up, causing your entire body to shudder and tremble. Your back arches, lifting off the table, but Jeonghan pushes you down, holding you firmly. And now that he has secured a tight grip on your hips, there is no escape from his tongue.

“Jeonghan!” you moan his name, hand shooting to grip his black locks. You push his head further into your cunt and move your hips in sync with his tongue. He smiles lazily between your legs, eyes holding nothing but awe and mirth.

The coil snaps, pushing you over the crescendo of pleasure. Wanton moans fill the room, and you cum on his tongue, giving him all your sweet nectar. Jeonghan licks you dry, caressing your trembling legs before he stands up.

Though you achieved your climax, the sight of your husband undoing his belt warms you up again. You sit up eagerly, hands flying to unbuckle his belt and slacks. He only chuckles, patting your head and muttering a low coo of ‘that's my girl.’

He slips off his shirt along with his slacks and boxers. It prompts you to undo your brassiere, presenting yourself bare to him. With a grin, he approaches you. You fawn at his rock-hard cock and undo your legs unconsciously.

Overwhelmed with the urge to feel him inside you, you pull him to you. He crashes his lips on yours in the process, giving you a searing kiss that sets your body aflame with desire. Your hands don't stay put, eager to roam all over his body. He does the same, hands relearning the route of your body for the nth time.

The heat of his body on yours melts your brain, knocking every thought out of you. The only thing you remember is his name and the way he makes you feel. Not the dire situation at play now or the dead body in your basement.

The brush of his fingers on your nipples, the poke of his cock against your inner thigh, the sensation of your sweltering skin making contact with his, the glide of his tongue on yours—all of it pushes you over the edge, driving you insane. Your arousal drips down your core, and it throbs with desire.

“Hannie,” you whine his name, your desire burning with a rage only he can control. “Fuck me.”

“As you wish, dollface.” 

His cock slips past your entrance with ease, filling you up in an instant. You hook your legs behind him, your foot digging into his back to push him in further. Your gummy walls envelop him in a warm hug that makes him dizzy.

You moan in unison when he bottoms out, in bliss with how perfectly he fills you. Throwing your arms around his neck, you prompt him to move. The first thrust is easy, given how your cunt drips down with arousal. It fills you with a pleasure that makes your body tremble.

He sets his pace, fucking you with eagerness. Each slap of his balls against your ass makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you cling to him for dear life. Sinful moans rumble from your throat with each snap of his hips.

His lips find yours again, but this time the kiss is sloppy and messy, with moans passed between your tongues and erratic snap of his hips. You meet his hips with the same vigor. You fuck him with an animalistic desire in your veins, and he gives you back just the same.

“Ah—fuck! God, I love fucking after we kill.” you yelp between your moans. He groans, replying with a “fuck, yes.”

Jeonghan grips your hips firmly, driving his cock in and out of you with a vigorous pace that numbs your nerves. Your nails dig into his back, and you scratch his delicate skin, leaving red marks for him to admire. “Ah, ah, ah, ah!” you moan, unable to control your pleasure. The table squeaks in response to the vigor of his hips. You press your tits against his chest, desperate to feel more of his warmth.

You look down to where your body meets him. The sight of his cock disappearing into your cunt with a wet squelch each time makes you moan. A creamy ring forms at the base of his cock, and some of your arousal drips down to the table.

Jeonghan shifts one of his hands to harshly grip the back of your head, forcing you to look up at him. A grin decorates his face at the hazy look in your eyes. He keeps up his pace while moving his other hand to squeeze your mouth open. You push your tongue out eagerly, waiting for him to spit in your mouth. He does, and you happily taste him before swallowing it.

“Good girl,” he kisses your forehead, sliding his hand down to wrap around your throat. He grips your throat, squeezing it lightly. A chuckle erupts from his chest, watching your eyes roll back. He kisses your forehead again, only for him to deliver light slaps to your cheeks. Warmth pools in his chest when you whine and push yourself closer to him.

“Fuck, I love it when you go dumb on my cock.” He whispers into your ear, tickling you with his breath. His cock kisses your sweet spot, and you feel him twitching inside you.

You clench around him on purpose. He groans a low curse, and his movements turn erratic. You continue to do so till he eventually stops, whining a string of curses. “Stop it. Stop doing that,”

Obliging to his wishes, you observe him as he takes a few seconds to compose himself. His eyelids flutter, and his lips fall apart as he tries to regain control. A knowing smirk graces your lips, knowing the effect you have on him.

“Brat,” you only giggle in response, which is cut short when he thrusts with a force that has you shuddering. His tip kisses your cervix, sending shudders of pleasure through your body. Tears prick your waterline and eventually cascade down your cheek as you cry out his name.

All it takes is one more thrust to push you over the crescendo again. This time, it's more intense and mind-numbing. You moan his name over and over again, like a prayer for salvation. He follows suit and fills his load inside you, shuddering the same as you.

His hands wrap around you tightly and, yours around him. Leaning your head against his shoulders, you catch your breath and try to control the shivers through your body. His warm breath on your back calms you, and so do his feather-light touches.

Your eyelids feel heavy as slumber descends upon you. And, before you know it, you fall asleep in his arms. 

[ … ]

“We have to let the others know about this,” Jeonghan informs, stirring his cup of tea with a spoon. You nod wordlessly, sipping your own cup of tea.

Slumber hasn't left you completely, and the tiredness weighs down on your bones. Your eyes slowly close shut again, and you lean back on the loveseat. Jeonghan sighs to himself, setting his cup down on the coffee table. He takes away yours before you can spill it on yourself.

Your soft groans make his heart flutter, and you stir awake again. The first thing you see is your husband sitting on the floor as he massages your legs.

“Poor thing, you must've had a hard time.” The pout on his lips makes you smile. “Not really,” you chirp, feeling more energetic as the seconds pass.

“Oh really?” he muses, and you hum. He shakes his head, worry marring his features. “What if I didn't get here on time? Why did you even allow him in?”

“I was bored.” To which he glares at you, a tired sigh falling from his lips.

“And, He visited.”

Jeonghan stops massaging your legs and looks up at you, confused. You see the tinge of fear in the clench of his jaw and the hold of his breath. You point to the black cat that has made itself home despite all the chaos that went down a few hours ago.

He visibly calms down and bows his head at the cat meows in return. He looks back at your smiling figure, and it strikes him. “Right, I asked for your safety to Him.”

“He saw our pictures,” your words barely audible as you look at the big wall covered with all your pictures with him. A soft smile graces your lips when your eyes fall on your wedding picture. 14th October, 1949.

Then you cackle, recalling the realization and terror on that guy's face. “Oh, you should've seen his face.” Jeonghan laughs along with you and resumes his ministrations on your legs. You relax on the cushion and let out a blissful sigh.

He sighs and zeroes in on the blood spots on your vintage slip. One of his many gifts to you, and it's something you've treasured for over seven decades.

“Ugh, it's fine. You can always buy me a new one.” You say, and a smirk adorns your lips when your eyes fall on the Johnny Cash vinyl on the shelf. You stand and walk towards it, pulling it out gently.

You flash your husband a grin, and he mirrors your visage. Placing the vinyl on the platter of the vinyl player, you move the tonearms and set it on the vinyl.

The world tunes into a buzzing background as you dance with him. His hands are gentle on you, holding you delicately. The setting is all a little too familiar to him, and before he knows it, he takes a trip down memory lane.

But the only one he can remember is the time when he almost lost you to death. The image of your bed-stricken figure flashes through his mind. He holds you a little closer.

In his life plan, Jeonghan never even imagined that you'd be diagnosed with cancer fifteen years into your marriage. Nothing held out, and it was hard to be optimistic with his wife on the lifeline.

And as he was holding your pained body in his arms, he cried and cried. What kind of god would allow this? Why should you be taken away? He felt life slowly slip out of you, and he couldn’t stop it. 

They say to never pray to the gods that answer at night, but that’s all he could do. Turning his back on religion and righteousness. His love for you blinded all reason, and he yearned to be in your embrace once again. He could never live without you—what he feels is an immortal desire, lust, love. Even if he is to die, the ground around him will flourish and sprout your favorite flowers—an amaranthine yearning. 

So he did it. He prayed and prayed, and when He finally answered, he vowed to do anything and everything that He wished for. Immortality for the curse of bloodied hands. He cringed at the sight of blood staining his skin, but as your bloodied hand intertwined with his, all felt right and in place. 

His hands take purchase on your hips, holding you as you sway to the gentle hum of the music. You smile at him and lean on his shoulders, content in his embrace. He mirrors your smile and kisses your forehead. 

What a blessing it is to be here with you? To gently sway to some music in the living room of your home with your blood-stained slips and his stained soul? 

He kisses you, and you kiss him back. You bite his lips just enough to draw blood. A thousand ways to bleed, but you are his favorite.

⛧spooktober taglist !

@verogonewild @blancflms @chromequette @junniepookiedookie @kyeomiis

@jeonghnie @scoupsieee @xuminghaes @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ririesna

@monstacheol @hoshiskimchi @miyx-amour @woozidanisms @choco-scoups

@cookiearmy @shadowyjellyfishfest @wonwoossecret @strxwberry-skiess @iamawkwardandshy

@merakilles @vitaminkyeom @okiedokrie @armycarat2612 @gyuguys

@idubiluranghae @goodforgyu @jungkooknippleanddicksucker @gyubakeries @nonuify

@aaniag @4cheezflatbred

[puppydollgstar]

Poly TF141 x Fem!Reader

This is a really self indulgent little fic! Pronouns for reader are she/they. Reader is also caribbean (I am reader lmao)

A very self indulgent little writing piece bc I'm sad and woke up alone today :( (my family was out for work and it's been a hard week for me aaaa) its unedited so probably filled w a bunch of mistakes lmao

Story below the cut! :)

You wake up, the heavy fog of sleep still pressing you firmly to the mattress. Even though your eyes are open, squinting at the dim lights of the room, you make out the voices and silhouettes of your loved ones. Price, or at least whatever sounds like him, was in the kitchen, talking lowly to someone. His voice was still gruff with fatigue but he sounded calm and content. You could hear the static of the TV from the living room, some sort of sport channel was playing. A stifled voice hissed over the noise of the TV, "keep it down, you'll wake them." That had to be Kyle. He was always so worried about you. "Sorry." That was Johnny. You heard the creaking of the couch, then the ruffling of pillows and blankets. "Oh shit!" A loud clatter on the ground, then the groaning of the couch shifting beneath Johnny's weight. "Hope you didn't break the remote." Kyle snickered. "Bah...it'll be fine. Nothin a little duct tape can't fix." The couch creaked again as more weight was added to it. The Hum from the TV soon got quieter.

"See? It's fine." Johnny again. You could practically hear Kyle rolling his eyes. Suddenly, a high pitched squealing caused your heart to stutter. You opened your eyes, only to then recognize the noise to be the sound of the Kettle. Simon's brewing tea most likely. You heave out a sigh, placing a hand on your chest to feel the beating of your heart slow down again. That sound was enough to wake you. You sighed and rolled over, tightening the sheets around you. The mattress beneath your body heaved out an angry creak from the shift of your weight. Suddenly, footsteps and a knock at your door. The hinges creaked as the dim light from the living room flooded your dark bedroom. "Morning sleeping beauty." You could hear the smile in Price's voice.

Lifting the covers off of your head, you turned to peek at him within your nest of blankets. His smile then turned into that signature grin, the one that makes him look like a big soft teddy bear. Walking toward your blanket burrito, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead before grabbing the hem of your Bonnet and sliding it back down onto your hair. "Left your breakfast on the stove. You can heat it up when you're ready." Wrapping his arms around your big cocoon, he gave you a tight squeeze before exiting the room. "Princess is up?" Kyle asked. "Might need a minute or two to rest. Best you boys leave her be for now." You could hear price grunt and the Crack of his back as he leaned down to press a kiss to either Johnny or Kyle. Honestly, maybe both.

You rested for about 10 more minutes before lifting yourself out of bed. Shivering at the cool air of your room, you reached for a nearby sweater. Pulling the hoodie over your head, you realized that it was Simon's. He probably forgot it in here when he kissed you goodnight. You then reached over your bed and grabbed your favourite plushie, snuggling it close to your chest before stepping out your room. Johnny and Kyle were snuggled up on the couch and greeted you both with soft smiles.

"Mornin, Hen. You sleep well?" Johnny's voice was soft. He opened his arms for a hug. Approaching your boyfriends, you then kneeled on to the ground and wrapped your arms around their waists. Resting your head in Kyle's lap, you then looked up at Johnny with a smile. "Yeah..I slept good.".

"Glad to hear it, babygirl." Kyle leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head before reaching down to affectionately squeeze your shoulder. The three of you stayed like that for a while, enjoying the warmth of one another along with the hum of the TV.

Johnny let out a yawn, stretching his arms and groaning at the quiet 'pop' of his shoulder. "Price and I tried to make ackee and saltfish. I think it turned out pretty okay. We left you a plate for breakfast." You felt your mouth water at the thought of breakfast. You weren't really hungry the night before so you skipped on dinner. "You mean to tell me, your pasty Scottish ass combined with John's British self, both tried to make a Caribbean dish?" You laughed. "Emphasis on tried." Kyle added, a small snicker of his own. "Well...I thought it was okay..." Johnny looked a bit sheepish. "We did end up burning the bake though...But you can't fault us! Its hard as shit to fry dough in oil.". You laughed, getting up off the floor and holding your stuffy close, "Well, I haven't even tried it yet. I'll be the judge of if you disgraced my culture or not." leaning down, you press a kiss to both of your boyfriends before walking toward the kitchen.

The aroma of ackee and saltfish filled your nostrils along with....Chocolate tea? At the table, Price sat with a mug of coffee and a few papers from an overdue report. Simon stood at the kitchen island with two mugs of tea. "Hey, lovie." He smiled, lifting his balaclava over the bridge of his nose to take a sip of the tea. You made your way over to Price, hugging him from behind and pressing a kiss to his temple before walking over to Simon. "Didn't know you like chocolate tea." You smiled, grabbing the cup next to his and taking a sip. The warm flavours of cinnamon, nutmeg, and chocolate hit your pallet, filling your belly with that fuzzy feeling of comfort and nostalgia. "Didn't know either till today. Price and I stopped by a Caribbean market earlier this morning. Saw it on the shelves and thought to give it a try." he shrugged before taking another swig from his mug. Setting your cup down, you then walked toward him and pressed your face into his chest. Your own lazy way of giving him a hug. He laughed before setting his own mug down and wrapping his arms around you, lifting the hem of your bonnet to smother your forehead in kisses before pulling it down over your eyes.

"Hey!" you playfully scolded, lifting it back up to your forehead. Simon took a playful swat at your ass before walking over to the stove and grabbing your plate of food. "Take a seat, I'll warm your breakfast."

Pulling out the chair next to Price, you then sat down and leaned your head against his shoulder. "Glad to see you up and about, love." Price smiled, wrapping an arm around you. Simon came back and placed your heated plate of food in front of you, "Enjoy." he smiled, leaning down to quickly peck your cheek and kiss Price before heading to the living room.

You shut your eyes, enjoying the smells and soundscapes that filled your home. From Price flipping through the various pages of his reports to the grumbling of Simon, telling Johnny to "move his thick ass over." on the couch. you felt content. You felt at home.

[luneariaa]

just smth about you working at a cafe,, and higu pays you a visit. plot is almost going nowhere hshshs,, and yes this is as fluffy as it can get lmao.

. dividers by @/cafekitsune !! 🌻

The sounds of the bells ringing from atop of the entrance door caught your attention, which is a signal that someone has walked into the cafe that you’re currently working at. The cafe itself was actually being run by one of your friends, which she had offered you a place to work there back then. 

Upon noticing the familiar face of your beloved, a happy smile immediately made its way to your face; hands automatically starting to brew some fresh hot coffee for him as usual. Higuruma didn’t need to tell you anything– you always knew his favourite drink whatsoever. 

Heck, even making some of his favourite sandwiches out of love for him. The dark-haired attorney always appreciates your efforts in ways that you possibly imagined.

By the time he’s about to make some order by the counter, you have already placed the coffee in front of him– which always, and always managed to catch him by surprise, before thanking you for your sweet and thoughtful gesture.

Higuruma sips on his coffee slowly after finding a rather reserved seat just nearby where you are; trying to savour the taste of it, yet his eyes couldn’t resist from glancing at your form occasionally. You were always so hardworking to him, and it’s one of your main traits that he finds captivating. 

“What’s with the stare?” You let a small chuckle out of you, now noticing how he begins to not shy away his constant gaze at you. He returns the same chuckle, propping one hand atop of the counter and rests his head there.

“What, I can’t appreciate looking at you and admiring your beauty?” Higuruma replies in a slightly lower tone, yet with a hint of teasing, as if to make sure you’re the only one who heard it closely.

“That’s kinda sappy,” you laughed humorously, yet also finding it actually sweet. “I appreciate that.”

His breath begins to hitch in his throat when you decide to do a bit of a bold move– gradually and slightly leaning your face closer to his, but still leaving some space for him to breathe.

“Could say the same to you, Mr. Lawyer.” 

His reaction actually satisfies you once you retreat from your initial stance; getting him all flustered that he had to loosen his tie a bit, and the clearing of his throat. Luckily, by some miracle, no one saw it.

But your co-worker friend has sent you a cheeky grin from afar, letting you have your moment alone with him, even though your shift is almost over. She’s the sweetest.

“Not so sappy when it’s just the truth.”

“But still..” You both shared a heartwarming laugh with one another. At least, you’re here to make him try to forget about his stresses from earlier cases.

“I’m not gonna take back what I’ve been saying though,” Higuruma grins lovingly at you. “I think your hard work alone would put even my skills to shame.”

“Nah, don’t sell yourself short!”

“Did anything happen today?” You finally changed the topic with another, wanting to know about your beloved instead as you gazed at him intently. All the while placing your hand atop of his as a sign of unspoken comfort.

“Got a quite difficult case today actually,” he shrugs and slouches over slightly; grasping back onto your hand with an equal affection underlying within it. 

“It’s just the usual client stuff, don’t worry. I’m handling it alright so far, but enough about me. How are things going here? How are you doing?”

A quiet exhale came from you by his answer. Even when his day isn’t really going well, he always has you in his mind instead– a trait that you find endearing, but it didn’t manage to stop the feeling of concern from resurfacing for his well-being.

“Everything’s going well here, don’t worry about me.”

“I’m so sorry that you had a rough day,” you gave your beloved a sympathetic smile. “Is there anything I can do about it?”

“Well–” His thumb brushes along your knuckles ever so tenderly, as if he’s afraid of possibly hurting you in the process. “--your presence alone is already enough for me, I promise you.”

“Just a little tired, that is. But it’ll pass soon; I’ve worked through tougher cases before.”

Knowing all too well that any attempt to shot back his statement will be futile, you eventually sighed in agreement. “Just don’t be too harsh on yourself.”

He merely nodded, not wanting to worry you any further, and lifts one of your hands up to his lips– pressing a soft kiss on it, which is enough to make you a bit of a flustered mess from his actions alone. You’re highly aware that it might be hard for him to try and do so; knowing how much of a passionate man he can be, especially anything about justice. 

“Are you able to wait for a bit more? My shift will end soon.” You tell while your eyes checked on the clock that’s hanging on the wall. “Or if you have to go back to work– I’m alright with it.”

The dark-haired attorney only gave a slight, comforting shake of his head. “Well, I do have to get some stuff back in the office.”

“I don’t think anyone’s around there at this time, so we can go there together. It won’t take long.”

“Then, we can grab some dinner outside tonight. How’s that sound?”

And who could’ve refuse such offer? It sounds amazing already for the both of you.

“That’s a deal then!”

© 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚜.

[flowers-of-io]

I *can* tell you why Neztea: When his brother Set cut him up into pieces after killing him, Osiris' wife Isis assembled all the pieces and wrapped his body up, enabling him to return to life.

I *can't* tell you why it was Mithrax and us collecting the bits of Nezarec instead of Saint. I *can't* tell you why it was bits of Nezzy in the canopic jars instead of bits of Osiris himself.

I *can* tell you we went through the whole song and dance of Osiris being functionally dead and then functionally revived, as tedious as it may have been, simply because that's the myth of Osiris and that's what Bungie does.

Full disclosure: I'm still perplexed about why it was Nez brew as well, but I personally call as of yet unclear Savathûn shenanigans. One of the biggest motifs associated with her specifically is tea and teacups. Don't believe me? Go do a search on ishtar. Saint's got his suspicious mystery teacup. You know what bone china is made from? Literal bones.

(There's also the Calix Summus emblem, which once again points us back towards the hive and their alchemy and nezzy (with the pyramid line thingy coming out of the cup). Calix = cup, but calix also = calx, one of the products of calcination (if that doesn't ring a bell, look back at the context of the calcified fragments). Summus here probably means something like key or paramount, so... the most importantest cup. Check out the secondary part of them emblem! That's a syzygy!)

If I sound like a lunatic, well... that's fine. The fun thing about Destiny lore is that it *does* reward you for putting in legwork to understand the mythologies and theologies and philosophies it draws from, even if you sound like a maniac to most people.

If you're really curious and want to figure out what happened or is going to happen with Osiris, I'd start looking into the history of Osirian cults and their practices. You might find absolutely fuck all, but you might also find something interesting. I'd do it myself, but I'm balls deep in Hive names and writing systems for the foreseeable future. Oh, and keep an eye on Saint. I'm still not convinced he's gonna make it all the way to the end based on what we know about the story of the phoenix and the turtle dove pigeon

Last thing: If a garden grows in both directions and that garden is a metaphor for the story told in a parable, then the story probably requires as much tending in the past as it does the present.

Good luck, I love you, have fun, pirate books if you have to, and keep your third eye wide fucking open.

(A reply to this post)

First of all, I'm so sorry for missing this message somehow. I've been having issues with not getting (or overlooking?) notifications about new asks and it's driving me a little mad by now.

(Putting the rest under a read more, because it's A LOT)

Second of all, I feel so stupid lmao. Of COURSE it's the Osiris myth eh? I genuinely didn't make the connection AT ALL, despite noticing the damn canoptic jars and being like, huh, interesting! And then my brain didn't follow on it ever. What probably threw me off is what you mention, the fact it was Misraaks and us, and not Saint, collecting the pieces, and that these weren't even Osiris' pieces to begin with. And besides, he wasn't even dead.

There's quite a mix of symbolism in the whole thing here, overall? Nezarec is the Nightmares guy, which makes sense in terms of him being the cure for a guy stuck in a coma--but this acknowledges Osiris' status as *asleep*, not dead, which then throws off the whole myth thing. And remember that one piece of Nezarec is, or is in, the Delicate Tomb--and that gun is very long-time nuclear waste warnings-coded, y'know, the whole "This is not a place of honour" thing. "The danger within is repulsive to us" is as far as you could go referencing to "What is here was dangerous and repulsive to us" while not quoting it verbatim. (And also the Delicate Tomb states "within" because the danger--Nezarec--is literally inside the gun.) The name of the catalyst quest, The Form of the Danger, is a direct quote.

What interests me is the thought process Misraaks and Eido must've gone through to arrive at the conclusion that they should brew this ancient corpse and serve it as tea, but okay, let's suspend our disbelief and say they just studied the remains for a long time (which they did) and within the context of Nezarec being the Nightmares dude, it made some sense.

It's also really funny of Savathûn making *that* the cure for the coma, and very 5D chess for her. She could have reasonably assumed the Witness would go looking for Nezarec's remains when shit hit the fan, in order to have its powerful Disciple back; though how it wanted to revive him I'm not sure, seeing as it was the Traveler's laser beam that inadvertently did the job. But then of course we Guardians would try to stop it, and most likely succeeded, and once Nez's remains were in our hands, we'd obviously study them. And so we'd find the cure. It's so brilliant and so, so unserious.

And yeah, her and tea!!! I'm not sure how to connect Saint's teacup (if you mean the one from Quintessence) here, but "Dûl Incaru serves you poison in a fine tea set of Ahamkara bone" from Truth to Power is iconic. *Ahamkara* bone china!!

You're also so big brained about Calix Summus because I literally didn't know this emblem existed. (For the record, it was included in the January 2024 Prime Gaming bundle.) And yeah if we interpret the graphic as planets and orbits, that is indeed a syzygy... And yeah. Calcified fragments. Gosh this rabbit hole runs so deep.

Bro I NEED to know about what you're cooking regarding Hive names and writing systems!!!!! Your brain is so big and I want to pick it about everything lol.

Oh, I never interpreted the garden growing in both directions as a metaphor for the story told in a parable, but rather the paracausal forces' ability to change past and future + the Black Garden being a four-dimensional thing where space is time, but. BUT. The thing about parables and myths is they bend time, in a way. They connect the past to the present, and so by extension the future. Time there is always circular; they keep happening over and over, regardless of linear history. They aren't physically *real*, but they are true. (Also paging @svedupelle here bc I know he'll be interested.)

Thank you!!! My third eye is so open it's like half of my forehead now.

[dragonedged-if]

ROs reaction when Mc take a blow that was meant for them but mc step In just in time.. WE wanna know how would they react if they see mc on the ground with the pool of blood ( mc gonna die btw 😭 sorry)

Hello anon, don't be sorry you know me! I love writing Angst and Tragedy. Was planning to take a nap earlier but seeing this in my inbox gave me unexplainable energy LMAO. Don't you rread this @kingsdespair-if

So here's a song for the mood and a poll at the very end ;)

(Variel)

As you and MC strolled down the winding street, the sun bathed the surroundings in a warm golden glow. The park had been the perfect setting for a delightful picnic, which were packed away neatly in a wicker basket. Laughter echoed through the air as children reveled in their innocence, their carefree spirits infectious. You couldn't help but feel a surge of joy and contentment at their presence, their unwavering belief in the goodness of the world.

But beneath the surface of this idyllic scene, a dark truth lurked. The world, with all its beauty, was tainted by the cruelty and deceptive words of humanity. Anger simmered within you, your blood boiling at their injustices. Your hand clenched into a tight fist, a physical manifestation of the rage you felt in your heart. How could they tarnish the purity of these little ones, polluting their minds with their own twisted agendas?

Lost in your tumultuous thoughts, a voice suddenly shattered your reverie. Startled, you shook your head and turned your gaze towards the source of the interruption. "I'm fine, mouse!" you gruffly replied, determined not to reveal any sign of vulnerability. Showing weakness was not an option, especially not in front of others. Pride was your armor, after all.

The voice belonged to MC, a trusted companion who had witnessed the depths of your anger and the fire that burned within you. They understood the conflict that raged within your soul, the dichotomy of your emotions. Their presence offered solace and a respite from the overwhelming weight of your thoughts.

As you continued walking, the streets seemed to come alive with a vividness that mirrored the intensity of your emotions. The scent of freshly bloomed roses mingled with the earthy aroma of the park, a juxtaposition of beauty and the harsh reality of life. Each step you took resonated with purpose, your determination fueling your movements.

MC leaned close, their eyes darting to their side, their body taut and tensed. They could sense the storm brewing within you, their own emotions mirroring the turmoil in your heart. "Tell me," they urged gently, their voice filled with concern and a hint of fear. They wanted to understand, to offer support in any way they could.

The world around you seemed to blur, the street a backdrop to this internal tempest. "Children," you murmured, your voice a low growl, "so innocent, so pure. Until they learn the cruelty and deceit of the world." Your words were laden with bitterness, as if each syllable carried the weight of centuries of disappointment.

The voice that had disrupted your thoughts earlier now had a face—a face that held concern and a touch of confusion. You could see it in the furrowed brows and the searching eyes. "What's bothering you?" they asked, their voice filled with genuine curiosity.

Your response was a torrent of emotion, a mixture of sorrow and frustration. "It's just… the world," you began, your words flowing like a stream of consciousness. "The injustice, the pain inflicted upon our kind. It's hard to bear, hard to watch. The innocence of these children, it's beautiful and tragic. They don't yet know the darkness that awaits them."

In the midst of the idyllic park, MC pulled you into their warm embrace, their arms enveloping you like a protective cocoon. Their touch was a lifeline amidst the tempest of emotions churning within you. "That's how the world works, Variel," they began, their hand gently rubbing your arm as if to soothe the raging storm within you. "There's light and dark… Good and evil… War and peace." Their voice carried a solemn weight, resonating with the gravity of life's dualities.

"But what matters is how you spend your time in the present." MC paused, their eyes locking with yours, radiating warmth and compassion. It was a gaze that drew you in, like a shelter from the storm. "And this time, I want to spend my time with you on a picnic!" MC's words were accompanied by a flourish of the picnic basket they held, emphasizing their heartfelt invitation.

Reluctantly, you withdrew your chin from their fingertips, a lingering trace of vulnerability in your gaze. "Very well, mouse, you win," you conceded with a pout, your heart softening in the face of their unwavering affection.

MC chuckled, their laughter like a soothing melody, and led you to a lush green spot. They spread a blanket on the ground, and together, you began the ritual of setting up the picnic. "Finally, we can eat. I'm famished!" MC exclaimed, their enthusiasm infectious.

You couldn't help but laugh at their enthusiasm. "You always are," you teased, MC playfully walking to your side.

Then, in a moment that shattered the tranquility, a mysterious figure appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Their face concealed by a hood, they addressed you with a sense of urgency. "Excuse me, are you Variel?" The question hung in the air like an ominous omen.

"I am," you replied, your curiosity mixed with a hint of apprehension.

With deliberate slowness, the hooded figure raised their hands, unveiling their features. Scars crisscrossed their visage, and their left eye bore an eye patch. "This is for my family!" they declared, their voice trembling with vengeance. In the blink of an eye, a knife materialized in their hand, and it was aimed at you with deadly intent.

Time itself seemed to stretch, each moment elongating into an eternity as you watched the knife's trajectory, every inch of its deadly arc etched into your consciousness. Panic surged within you, but before fear could paralyze you, a voice pierced through the chaos.

"Watch out!" MC's voice, filled with urgency, reached your ears. In an instant, they shoved you away with a force that left you stumbling. You crashed to the ground just as the knife found its mark.

Your heart clenched in horror as you witnessed MC standing between you and the hooded figure, blood pooling beneath them. The attacker withdrew the knife, and MC collapsed, their body crumpling like a marionette with severed strings.

"NOOOOOO!" The anguished scream tore from your throat, your vision clouded by tears. In that moment of despair, your trembling hand reached out to the earth, and with a surge of raw emotion, vines erupted from the ground, snaking and ensnaring the assailant, binding them in a grip as unyielding as your grief.

The scent of fresh earth fills your nostrils as you desperately fight against the overwhelming surge of rage and sadness. This moment, this life-altering experience, unfolds like a scene from a twisted nightmare. Each detail is etched into your memory, every sense heightened to the extreme.

Your world shattered into a nightmare as you cradled MC's lifeless body in your arms, urgency and panic coursing through you like a maelstrom. "Are you alright, mouse?" Your voice quivered, your desperate plea echoing in the eerie stillness that had descended upon the park. But MC's eyes remained closed, their breath stilled, an unbearable silence in response.

Desperation clawed at your chest as you called their name once more, the anguish in your voice more palpable with each repetition. "MC?" Still, there was no reply, no sign of life from the one who had brought you solace and joy.

Meanwhile, the hooded man who had orchestrated this tragedy reveled in your suffering. His laughter, sharp and mocking, pierced the heavy air. "FEEL MY PAIN… TELL ME WHAT ARE YOU FEELING RIGHT NOW?" His words were laced with sadistic delight, and he cackled deliriously, the sound echoing like a sinister symphony of madness.

"THEY'RE GONE. THE KNIFE IS POISONED—DEADLY TO DRAGONS BUT FATAL TO HUMANS!" His voice boomed, carrying the cruel revelation across the park.

The world around you had become eerily quiet, as if nature itself held its breath, sensing the unfolding danger. Your trembling form leaned closer to MC, planting a tender kiss upon their forehead, a final farewell to the love you had cherished. Then, with a heavy heart, you gently released their lifeless form.

Rising to your feet, fury coursed through your veins like a tempest. You beckoned to the winds, invoking their power, commanding them to encase the hooded man's head. "You took someone I treasured from my life!" The winds responded to your command, swirling faster and faster around the man, binding him in an inescapable cyclone of air.

"They're the ones who kept me sane and happy in this godforsaken world!" The man's wheezes and coughs filled the air as the wind mercilessly robbed him of breath.

"And I want your life as payment for this!" Your voice resonated with unwavering determination. The man's eyes bulged, his face contorted in agony, until he ceased to move, his life extinguished by the very elements you had harnessed.

The man lay lifeless before you, a testament to your wrath and grief. Yet, in the aftermath, you stood alone, the weight of your loss heavy upon you. "I will find out who is responsible for this," you vowed, your voice a solemn oath that cut through the silence. "And I will hunt them down and eradicate their whole family and clan! This is for you, my little mouse!" Your declaration hung in the air like a curse, a promise forged in the crucible of tragedy.

(Clara's POV)

Amidst the bustling plaza, the vibrant tapestry of the city unfolded before you, a captivating spectacle of life and commerce. The scent of exotic spices wafted through the air, mingling with the excited chatter of the crowd. Your loyal bodyguard, Lucas, walked resolutely ahead, his imposing presence a shield against the throngs of people.

"Buy now and get a free item!" a merchant's voice pierced through the clamor, attempting to entice every passerby with the promise of a deal too good to pass up. Nearby, a magician commanded attention, weaving illusions that drew gasps of wonder from the gathering crowd. his crimson robe beckons to the gathering crowd, his hands weaving mystic patterns in the air.

Turning your attention to Lucas, you raise an eyebrow and speak with playful sarcasm, "You know, Lucas, you don't need to come with us, you know?"

Lucas, resolute and vigilant, answers sternly, "It's my job, Clara."

You place a hand over your heart, feigning injury. "Lucas, you wound me!" Your voice drips with mock hurt. "Where's your faith in MC and me?" You inquire, a mischievous glint in your eye.

Lucas continues to stride forward, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Exactly, that's why I need to come," he says, glancing over his shoulder at you and MC. "I don't trust you two to do any walking today." The hint of a smile vanishes as his gaze returns to the bustling plaza ahead.

"Lucas, you're so serious!" MC's laughter dances through the air, teasing and bright.

Lucas, the embodiment of stoicism, merely shrugs, his unwavering focus fixed on the path ahead. "It's my job to be," he deadpans, his voice carrying an air of unyielding duty.

As MC playfully taunted Lucas about his serious demeanor, laughter filled the air, echoing against the walls. The sound seemed to bounce off the walls, reverberating in your ears. You watched the interaction with keen interest, your eyes drawn to the contrasting expressions on their faces.

Lucas, seemingly unaffected by the teasing, shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. His gaze was fixed forward, unwavering, as if he had a laser-like focus on something far beyond the present moment. His face remained stoic, revealing nothing of the thoughts that raced through his mind. It was as if he wore a mask, hiding his true emotions from the world.

An idea sparked in your mind, an electric current surging through your body. With a flick of your fingers, you snapped them together, the sound cutting through the air like a lightning strike. "I know just the remedy for that gloom," you declared, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. The words tumbled out of your mouth with an air of excitement, as if you had stumbled upon a hidden treasure. "Let's go find Haley and indulge in her heavenly puddings."

Lucas abruptly halted, his feet freezing in place. You and MC, caught off guard by his sudden halt, also came to a stop, turning to face him. Slowly, he turned around, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. His face remained impassive, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes, a spark of interest that hadn't been there before.

"Very well," he said, his voice devoid of emotion, yet there was a hint of something lurking beneath the surface. "I will allow it."

Once more, Lucas takes the lead, his head tilting to the side like a predatory bird, sharp eyes scanning the surroundings with a vigilance that borders on lethal. Every step he takes is deliberate, and every movement calculated.

After what feels like an eternity of walking, the trio arrives at their destination, but alas, it's as crowded as a beehive on a summer's day. MC's stomach growls impatiently, mirroring their frustration. "The line is so long!" they grumble, their voice a symphony of hunger and annoyance. "I might actually wither away waiting here," you add, your melodramatic groan drawing attention from those nearby.

Lucas, ever the enigmatic presence, steps forward, his aura commanding the attention of everyone in the vicinity. Eyes turn towards him, curious gazes and starry-eyed admirers alike. Whispers ripple through the crowd like a gentle breeze through a field of wildflowers, and one girl couldn't help but gush, "He's so dreamy!" Her voice was filled with awe, as if she had just witnessed a celestial being descend from the heavens.

You can't help but chuckle, a mischievous glint in your eye as you watch Lucas, the master of making an entrance, bask in the attention he commands. "Pshhh, showoff," you tease, your words a playful jab at his ability to captivate a crowd effortlessly. Indeed, he has a knack for leaving a lasting impression.

With a sly agenda in mind, you lean in closer to MC, your voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Psst… MC," you murmur, the words dripping with secrecy and excitement. "Let's make our escape."

MC nods in understanding, their eyes sparkling with mischief as they playfully accuse you, "You're very naughty, you know that?"

Lucas, ever watchful, turns to catch the two of you lingering behind. But in that fleeting moment of distraction, it's already too late. Like shadows in the night, you and MC slip away, carried by the tide of the crowd. Lucas's charm, which had held the plaza in rapt attention, now becomes your clever ruse, diverting his focus while you make your daring escape.

As the distance between you and Lucas grows, you can't resist a parting taunt. "We'll be back soon, sweet Lucas!" you sing, your voice as bright and cheery as a robin's call. The words are like a melody of mischief, carried on the wind.

Lucas, pudding in hand and face contorted with ire, watches you and MC vanish into the throng. His disbelief is palpable, his jaw falling open and his eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, please, let me throttle you two!" he cries out, his voice carrying the weight of exasperation and exhaustion.

Several blocks away, you and MC pause to share a knowing smirk. Satisfaction courses through your veins, a sweet taste of victory. The thrill of your daring escapade fills the air, a sense of triumph over adversity.

As the chaos of the crowd swirls around you, you feel a momentary sense of triumph. Success has warmed your heart, filling you with a sense of accomplishment. But that feeling is quickly shattered by the sound of a familiar voice cutting through the air. It's Lucas, calling out to you and MC, his deep and rich voice echoing in the space around you.

You turn to glance over your shoulder, and there he is, Lucas's tall and muscular frame looming over the crowd. His azure eyes lock onto yours, and you can't help but feel a surge of both excitement and apprehension. "Damn! He's fast!" MC curses, their voice filled with a mix of admiration and envy. You chuckle, knowing that Lucas is indeed the best of the best.

But there's no time to revel in your victory. Lucas's pursuit is relentless, his movements graceful and deadly. He effortlessly cuts through the mass of bodies, his body always ready to pounce. You can hear his breath coming in harsh pants, a testament to his skill and power. It's a reminder of the danger that lurks behind his calm and composed exterior.

"STOP FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS!" Lucas pleads, his voice filled with urgency and desperation. But you and MC refuse to yield, determined to hold onto the precious prize of freedom. The adrenaline courses through your veins, fueling your drive to escape.

Curiosity flickers within you, a fleeting urge to turn around and face Lucas, to confront him and end this chase. But you resist, knowing that your priority is to keep moving, to stay one step ahead of him. The thrill of the chase intensifies, the stakes rising with each passing moment.

Finally, you and MC find refuge in a narrow alley, hidden from view. The sound of footsteps grows fainter, and you allow yourself a moment to catch your breath. "That was a close one!" you sigh in relief, the tension slowly dissipating.

But your relief is short-lived as a malicious voice breaks the silence. You and MC turn around, only to find yourselves confronted by four menacing figures. The leader of the group sneers, his voice dripping with malice. "A princess and a rat! You two will make excellent ransom for the monarchs!" he snarls, his words laced with venom.

Fear grips your soul like an iron fist, and panic rises in your stomach. Uncertain of what to do, you slowly begin to back away, your mind racing for a way out. "Come here, rat!" the dark-haired man taunts, his voice filled with sadistic pleasure. The bald man laughs, closing in on you menacingly.

But MC refuses to back down. They grab a nearby stick and swing it at their attackers, their movements swift and determined. "Stay back, you dolts!" they shout, their voice filled with defiance.

The dark haired man sneers as he grabs the stick and pulls MC to his knees. "Scared of rats,a re we?" he taunts as he pulls out a knife. "Let them go you, swines!" You growl. But the red-headed man just cackles and holds a blade up to your throat.

"Now now, beauty, we don't want any fuss. Just walk away and no one gets hurt." But MC couldn't let their captors have their way. They kicked out, shoving the dark haired man back with their feet. "You wanna play rough, rat?" he spat, plunging the knife into their shoulder.

"Nooo! Stop it!" you screamed. But the bald man just grinned as he watched, MC struggled in pain as they kicked and thrashed trying to break free. But their captors were too strong.

Then suddenly a dark figure appeared at the mouth of the alley. "Let them go," the man growled. His voice was like thunder, deep and threatening. It cut through the tension like a knife, sending shivers down your spine. The bald man leered. "Who are-" his words stop short and stepping back a little.

"Lucas!" he says with disdain. He quickly went behind you and holding you by the neck, knife hovering on your neck. "No funny business Royal Protector!" he threathens.

Lucas advances slwoly, his eyes locked to you offfering you comfort. "Lucas I'm sorry!" you say to him and blaming yourself for this predicarment if you and MC just stayed in one place.

"We will talk later Clara!" Lucas says gently, eyeing the 4 men warily.

"Let go of-" MC begins but the man with dark hair kicked him in the face. "Shut up!" "Let him go!" you cry angrily. Lucas looks at you, assessing the situation, calculating the enemy's weaknesses and strengths. His senses seem alert and vigilant, his eyes scanning the alley for anything useful.

Suddenly, he springs into action, lunging forward like a tiger hunting its prey. His moves are fluid and graceful, grabbing a brick on the floor and hurling it at the one that is looming MC. "What the-" the man holding you hostage says in disbelief, using his distraction to your own gain, you snapped your head back to his face hearing the crunch of his nose breaking and letting go of you.

Lucas quickly ran towards him and tackles him to the ground, his eyes fierce and determined. "You're a fighter, are you not? Show me what you got!" Lucas says as he punches the 3rd man in the face. The bald man turns and backs away with eyes wide in fear. However, you could tell he was not the kind to flee without a fight. He whirled around, arms spread in anger, ready to charge and come out on top.

But before he could charge, MC rammed their elbow into his stomach, knocking the air out of him and he came wheezing down to the ground. "We're here too!" MC said smugly. Lucas nodded at them appreciatively, impressed by their moves. "Quick thinking! I almost didn't see you there." He motioned to you, the one they had been holding hostage. "You alright, Clara?"

You wiped the blood from your forehead, bruised, battered, but still standing. "I'm fine." Lucas sighed in relief, feeling the rush of adrenaline begin to subside. "It's not like you to be so defenseless, MC, but thank you all the same."

"Clara behind you!" MC shouts but its too late!

The dark haired man regained his bearings, crawling onto his knees and lunging at ou. His teeth bared like a hungry wolf, his eyes burning with rage. Knife brandished and poised! "DIE" he shouts with fervor and aiming at your heart.

Yet before it canmake contact you felt a force forcing you out of theway and you see MC standing on the spot where you where standing, a knife embedded ien their chest. "NOOOO!" you cry out, horrified and terrified beyond belief. Tears started to form in your eyes, emotions building in your throat.

But it was Lucas who rushed in with a cry of fury and rage. The world seemed to slowdown as he grabbed the bald man by the throat and threw him into a trashcan, metal crunching beneath his weight. His face was contorted with rage, eyes burning with an all-consuming fire. The silence that followed was deafening, piercing through the air like a bullet.

And in the moment, the atmosphere was charged with a sense of finality, a resolution to end the conflict once and for all.

"Please…Please…Please!" you implore, racing towards MC, tears streaming down your face. Your voice is a desperate plea, a last attempt to save a loverfrom death's icy embrace.

But as you reach for them, their body falls to the ground, lifeless and eerily still. A sob bursts from your throat, raw and gut-wrenching, as you cradle their face in your hands. "Nooo!" you scream, the pain a living, breathing entity.

Tears clouded your vision, a haze of grief and agony. "Bastards!" Lucas spat, his voice hoarse with emotion. He clutched the leader of the group with white knuckles, his grip crushing and unrelenting. "You dare hurt the princess's consort!" His voice rose with each syllable, the fury burning through him like a forest fire. It was a monumental moment, a testament to his loyalty and duty.

On the ground, blood pooled around MC, crimson and sticky, a vivid reminder of the cruelty and chaos of the world. "We need to get him help,Lucas!" you stammered through the tears.

Lucas, the embodiment of resolute stoicism, nodded in agreement. "Of course," he said grimly. "But it's too late, the wound was too deep."

"Nooo!" you sobbed, cradling MC's face in your hands. "This can't be happening!" It was as if the world had collapsed around you, a cataclysm of agony and despair. On the ground, MC's face was pale, their eyes closed and peaceful. They had given their life to protect yours, a sacrifice of heroism and courage.

Your eyes caught the knife on the coold unfrogiving ground, the same knife who ttok the life of MC. Filled with fury you quikcly grabbed it and charged towards the man who took your other half. Stabbing him with it.

Again…Again…Again…Again…Aain… each stab becoming weaker and weaker, until you cried and you felt Lucas embracing you. "It's done Clara, grieve…just grieve!" he tried to comfort you, the knife becomming slippery in your hands and falling to the ground with a clatter. But you could only feel the guilt and the sadness rise within you, a tide of hopelessness and despair. "Why am I alive and MC is not, Lucas, tell me!" you whisper, each word coated with the taste of loss and anger.

Lucas looked away, his eyes heavy with regret. "It was their choice, Clara. they saw the attacker lunging and they pushed you out of the way. It was either you or them." "No,no,no,no,no, no, no…" you murmured, tears spilling over your cheeks, warm and wet. "I'm such a monster. It's all my fault."

Lucas gently shook his head. "There's no one to blame," he said, his voice filled with resignation and bitterness. "It was a cruel twist of fate."

And as the sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the alley, you sit there, clutching MC's lifeless hand, the tears flowing freely down your face.

It was then that you knew. It was all your fault. The thought echoed in your head, a twisted refrain that refused to fade away. You had set up the scene of tragedy, a macabre masterpiece. And in the end, the pieces came together, a perfect ending to a tragic tale. "Forgive me, MC," you whispered, as you pressed a kiss to their cold, pale lips.

A memory flashed before your eyes, bright and vivid. It was you and MC, standing in the courtyard, laughing as the sun shone down upon you. "It's all my fault," you said to MC. "I wish I could go back and fix it. "

But you couldn't. As the darkness grew around you, you let out a wail of despair, a howl of regret. And in the moment, you felt your heart splinter, shattering into a million pieces, each fragment a testament to your guilt and grief.

A shadow loomed over you, a presence you didn't expect. You glanced up, only to find yourself staring at Lucas. His face was grim, his eyes haunted with the ghost of a memory. "You can't blame yourself," he said. "MC knew what they were doing."

"How can you be so sure?" you cried, your voice ringing with hopelessness. "How do you know they didn't regret their choice?"

Lucas sighed, his shoulders slumping forward. "Clara, they would have wanted you to live. There was no hesitation in their actions. They saw the attacker lunging and pushed you out of the way. "

"But I should have done more!" you protested. "I could have taken him out before he even had a chance to attack."

Lucas shook his head, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. "I won't argue with you, but I can't help but wish MC had made a different decision." You slumped forward, grief gripping you like a vise. "Me too," you murmured, tears streaming down your face. "Me too."

And as the sun began to rise over the horizon, you knew. You knew that you could never undo the events that had unfolded that day, that you could never bring MC back. But you also knew that you would cherish their memory, their sacrifice, and carry it with you for the rest of your days.

"If only…" You whispered to yourself, your voice choked with tears. "If only I had been smarter, faster, stronger. " But it was all too late. MC was gone, and you were left to bear the burden of their death.

(Lucian's POV)

As you and MC stroll down the bustling streets, your intertwined hands serve as a symbol of the unbreakable bond you share. The sun bathes the city in a radiant glow, casting long shadows on the pavement. The air is filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant aroma of freshly brewed coffee, enhancing the already enchanting atmosphere.

You break the silence, your voice filled with genuine joy and optimism. "What a truly wonderful day we're having," you say, your words floating in the air like a melody, hoping to fill the moment with even more enchantment.

MC chuckles, their eyes sparkling with affection as they look at you. "Ah, my love, you never cease to amaze me with your delightful corniness," they say lovingly, their voice a gentle whisper that dances on the edge of your ears. The sound of their laughter is music to your soul, a symphony of happiness that reverberates through your being.

As you continue your leisurely walk, the city seems to come alive around you. The buildings stand tall and proud, their facades adorned with intricate details that tell stories of the past. The streets are lined with shops, their colorful displays inviting you to explore their treasures. The sound of bustling traffic and snippets of conversations create a symphony of urban life, a vibrant backdrop to your shared journey.

You notice MC's eyes wandering, their gaze taking in the sights and sounds of the city. Their expression shifts, a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "Look at that," they exclaim, a touch of excitement in their voice. "A street performer, captivating the crowd with their mesmerizing dance moves."

Intrigued, you both approach the gathering crowd, drawn to the performer's magnetic energy. The dancer's body moves with graceful precision, every movement an expression of passion and emotion. The music playing in the background sets the rhythm, its pulsating beats reverberating through the air, intertwining with the palpable energy of the onlookers.

MC's hand tightens around yours, their fingers lacing through yours as their excitement grows. "Can you feel it?" they ask, their voice filled with wonder. "The electricity in the air, the energy that binds us all together. It's like magic, isn't it?"

You nod, your eyes locked with theirs, feeling a surge of emotions coursing through your veins. The world seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you and the captivating performance. The dancer's every move becomes a metaphor for the passion and intensity that exists between you, a physical manifestation of the love that binds your souls.

As you and MC stood there, bathed in the ethereal glow of the artist's performance, a sudden and profound change seemed to come over them. Their grip on your hand loosened, and their eyes, once fixed on you, now sought something beyond.

"I need to speak with the artist, just for a minute," MC whispered, their voice a hushed but determined plea. The air around you thickened with anticipation, and you could feel a surge of curiosity mingling with a hint of unease.

Your heart raced, caught in the whirlwind of this unexpected turn. "Will you join me?" MC's question hung in the air, a question that beckoned you to venture into the unknown.

As you and MC approach the artist, a sense of anticipation fills the air, mingling with the fading echoes of applause. The artist stands tall, their presence commanding attention. Their body, bathed in a soft glow, seems to radiate the very essence of creativity and passion.

MC takes a step forward, their hand outstretched, reaching for a connection with the artist. Their eyes are filled with a mixture of awe and admiration, their voice carrying a hint of vulnerability as they speak. "Incredible," they utter, their words hanging in the air like a whispered prayer. "The way you move, the way you express yourself through your art… it's truly remarkable. I can't begin to express how much I admire what you do."

A smile graces the artist's face, a smile that holds a lifetime of experience and dedication. They respond with humility, their voice carrying a quiet earnestness. "Thank you," they say, their words a gentle melody that dances on the wind. "Dancing has been my passion since I was a child. It's a way for me to connect with the world, to express my innermost thoughts and emotions."

You stand by MC's side, observing this exchange with a mix of pride and curiosity. The artist's words resonate within you, igniting a spark of inspiration deep within your soul. The power of their art, their ability to touch hearts and souls, leaves you in awe.

MC's gaze, filled with longing, projects a sense of yearning to the artist. "Do you think someone like me could ever learn to dance like you? Or create music, or paint, or engage in any form of artistic expression?" they ask, their voice a fragile whisper.

The artist's eyes meet theirs, a knowing glint shimmering within their depths. "Everyone has the capacity for passion," they say, their voice enveloping MC like a warm embrace. "It's not about natural talent or skill, but the willingness to explore and express oneself. Take my own journey as an example. When I first started, I couldn't hold a rhythm, let alone move with grace. But with time and dedication, I found my own unique way to connect with the art that resonated within me."

MC's hand rests on their chin, their thoughts swirling with uncertainty and doubt. "What about writing?" they inquire, their voice tinged with hesitation. "Does writing count as an art form? It's not as physical as dancing or painting, but it's a way to express oneself, right?"

The artist chuckles, a melodic sound that carries the weight of wisdom. "Writing absolutely counts," they affirm. "It's a powerful means of self-expression and connection. Have you written anything recently?"

MC's voice quivers, a mixture of vulnerability and longing. "I've dabbled in writing, but I've always considered it more of a hobby than a serious pursuit," they confess.

The artist's smile widens, their eyes twinkling with encouragement. "Perhaps it's time to reconsider," they suggest. "Art knows no boundaries, and true fulfillment lies in embracing the passions that reside within us. Take that leap of faith, and who knows where it may lead you?"

A blush tinges MC's cheeks, a mix of excitement and trepidation coloring their features. "You're right," they murmur, their voice filled with newfound determination.

As you bid farewell to the artist, a surge of emotions courses through you. The connection between you and MC deepens, fueled by the shared experience and the realization of the limitless possibilities that lie before you. The world seems to shimmer with newfound vibrancy, and you continue your walk, hand in hand, ready to explore the uncharted territories of your passions and creative endeavors.

"You sly little hypocrite," you tease, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

MC's reaction is a mix of amusement and vulnerability, their laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. "What do you mean?" they inquire, their voice tinged with a hint of melancholy.

"Don't pretend," you say, a knowing smile playing on your lips. "I see through your facade. Variel, Lucas, and our feisty princess… they are reflections of the passions that burn within you."

MC's laughter subsides, and their eyes meet yours, flickering with a mixture of emotions. "I guess seeking reassurance from others isn't such a terrible thing," they admit, their voice carrying the weight of vulnerability.

"What do you mean?" you ask, your curiosity piqued by their cryptic words.

As you both continue walking, lost in the moment, a sense of connection grows between you and MC. Their warmth and kindness draw you in, while their passion and drive ignite a spark of excitement and possibility within you. It's as if their energy is contagious, filling every fiber of your being.

Suddenly, breaking the silence, MC asks you a question that cuts through the air like a knife. Their gaze narrows, and their expression becomes unreadable, leaving you wondering what thoughts are swirling in their mind. "What about you?" they ask, their voice filled with genuine curiosity. "Do you have any fears or regrets?"

You feel a lump in your throat as you ponder their question. It's not an easy one to answer, but you gather your thoughts and finally respond, your voice tinged with vulnerability. "I'm not sure," you admit, searching for the right words. "There are moments when I feel like I'm letting everyone down, like I'm not worthy of their love or respect. It can be a hard pill to swallow."

MC's eyes hold a glimmer of understanding as they listen intently. "I know what you mean," they say softly, their voice carrying the weight of personal experience. "It's a dark place to be in."

You find yourself taken aback by their response. MC, who has always seemed like the epitome of confidence and assurance, reveals a side of themselves that you never imagined. A side that struggles with self-doubt and hesitation.

Summoning your courage, you take a deep breath and decide to delve deeper into your conversation. "Can I ask you something too?" you inquire, your voice filled with a mix of trepidation and curiosity.

"Shoot," MC replies, their eyes fixed on yours, their body language attentive.

"Are we really doing this?" you ask, gesturing to the invisible connection hanging in the air between you. "Doing what?" they question, their brow furrowing with confusion.

You hesitate for a moment, searching for the right words to convey your emotions. "This," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "Us. Our relationship. Are we really meant to be together?"

MC blinks, caught off-guard by your question. Their expression shifts, clouded with uncertainty. "What makes you ask that?" they inquire cautiously, their tone guarded.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, your fingers absentmindedly raking through your hair. "I don't know," you admit with a sigh. "I guess I'm just scared. Scared that we'll never have a future, that we're destined for heartache and pain."

As you speak, MC's eyes fill with a profound sadness, casting a shadow over their features. Their voice carries a hint of melancholy as they respond, "It's a valid concern," they acknowledge, their words heavy with truth. "I can't deny that there are risks, that we might stumble and fall. But isn't that what love is all about? Taking that leap of faith and trusting that we'll land safely together, no matter what happens."

The memory of their passion for life, their belief in the power of love, fills you with a sense of wonder. As you continue your leisurely stroll, the warm glow of the city lights play in the sky above, casting long shadows on the ground.

You can feel MC's eyes on you, their gaze a mixture of longing and trepidation. "Do you have any fears or regrets about us?" they ask, their voice a tremor in the air.

A sigh escapes your lips, a thousand emotions rising to the surface. "I suppose I'm just afraid," you confess, your voice carrying the weight of uncertainty. "Fear of being hurt, fear of losing you, fear of not being worthy of your love. It's a deeply rooted insecurity, and sometimes I wonder if we're just walking down a path destined for ruin and scars."

A silence falls between you, filled with the unspoken emotions that simmer beneath the surface. MC's gaze softens, their hand brushing against yours in a silent gesture of comfort. "I understand," they say gently. "It's not easy, this business of loving and being loved. We can only take the leap of faith, and hope that we will land safely together, no matter what."

The sky is a canvas of colors, the sun a ball of fire in the east, casting a warm glow over the world. In this moment, you feel the weight of the world lifting from your shoulders, your soul opening to the possibilities that lie beyond.

Suddenly, a twinkle of mischief flashes in MC's eyes. "Do you really want to know the truth?" they ask, their voice hushed and conspiratorial. "The secret that's been eating away at me, the doubt that lingers in my heart?"

Nodding, you lean closer, a sense of urgency settling in the pit of your stomach. MC hesitates, their gaze falling to the ground, their words carrying the weight of their hesitation. "I've often wondered if we're really meant to be together," they confess, their voice laced with melancholy. "Sometimes I feel like I'm holding you back, preventing you from living your fullest potential."

A surge of emotions rushes through you, a mixture of disbelief and compassion. "I don't think you're holding me back," you say, your voice strained with a mixture of incredulity and frustration. "I feel just as fiercely connected to you as you do to me, if you were not here I feel incomplete and your the missing piece that makes me whole don't ever doubt that MC!"

Their eyes meet yours, glistening with a hint of sorrow. "I know you feel that way," they admit, their voice trembling with emotion. "But I still feel a sense of guilt, a nagging doubt that whispers in the back of my mind."

Gently, you take MC's hand, your fingers lacing through theirs, a gesture of reassurance and support. "I'm with you every step of the way, my love," you whisper, your voice filled with conviction and passion. "No matter what happens, we'll face it together, side by side, just as we always have."

Your words seem to ignite a flame within MC, their eyes flashing with a renewed sense of determination. "You're right," they affirm, their tone tinged with a touch of resolution. "We've got each other, and that's all that matters in the end."

As the two of you resume your walk, a profound sense of connection resonates through your beings, a bond forged in the fires of trials and triumphs, a bond that will withstand the test of time and by fate theirselves. Yet the fates does not like being tested.

Without any warning an arrow sailed into the air and finding purchase on the chest of MC. By the time you had time to process what had happened, MC was already on the ground, gasping for breath, their eyes glazed over with the inevitable.

You frantically rush towards them, the world around you fading to a dull blur, a storm of emotions roiling in your heart. "MC! Please stay with me," you cry, cradling their body in your arms, feeling the life slowly slipping away.

"I'm sorry," they gasp, their voice carrying the weight of a thousand regrets, their eyes fluttering close. You looked at the direction where the arrow was sent and from there you see a figure obscured by the shadows, watching you hold MC in your amrs with interest.

You grit your teeth in rage, a fury unlike anything you have ever felt rising within you. You wanted nothing more than to rip the bastard limb from limb, to make them suffer a thousand deaths for what they had done.

But in the end, the only thing you could do was hold MC in your arms as their life faded away, a shuddering breath escaping their lips as they slipped into the abyss. The pain was overwhelming, a sudden emptiness filling your heart as the reality of what had happened dawned on you.

How could this happen? Why did it have to be MC, the one person who had brought light into your world, the one person who had made you believe in the magic of love and life? As you sat there, eyes welling with tears, your heart racing with adrenaline, you heard footsteps approaching. Looking up, you saw the shadowed figure. "Whyyyy?!" you scremaed in anguiush body shaking.

"There's a bounty on you Lucian that arrow was meant for you!" thye said in an ominous tone. "Then why target them?" you inquire crying.

"Because they ask me to do so their life for yours!" they said indifferent. "Who could do such a thing?" you rage.

"Don't underestimate love and vengeance Lucian, for it drives men to desperate measures and revenge. There are people who have set their sights on you. People who wish to eliminate you, and hurt those you care for."

You listen in confusion, tears streaming down your face. "Who could hate me so much to hire someone to do such a thing? And how did they know where we were?" The shadowed figure lets out a low chuckle, their voice grating and cold. "You're not a fool, Lucian. You know who your enemies are, and how far they'll go to get what they want. But don't worry. They have yet to touch me, and my job is not done with their dying wish they want me to protect you!"

You clenched your jaw, a mixture of anger and sorrow washing over you. "It shouldn't have to be like this," you growl, your voice filled with the weight of a thousand regrets. "We've done nothing to deserve such treatment. What a terrible world we live in, where love and happiness are rewarded with death and suffering." The shadowed figure shrugged, their posture rigid and emotionless.

"This is the life you chose, and now you must live with the consequences. But don't fear. I will protect you, for as long as I'm able."

You could feel your heart hardening, a fire of vengeance burning within you. "I'm going to find them," you vow, your voice trembling with rage. "And when I do, I'll make them pay for what they've done. For MC, and for everything else that they've stolen from us."

The figure's voice rose, a mixture of warning and sympathy. "It may not be as easy as you think. You're in danger, Lucian, and those who seek you will not rest until you are eliminated. It's safer if you stay with me, where I can protect you."

"YOU!" you spat! "the one who wanted to killed me?" you shout incredously. "The one who took my love from me?!"

Their eyes glinted in the dim light, their posture rigid and emotionless. "I only did what was necessary to fulfill my task," they retorted. "Your life for theirs, just like they wanted it to be."

A rage filled your heart, a desire for retribution bubbling to the surface. "They would have never wanted it like this. They were good, and kind, and loving. You've taken that away, and you'll pay for it with your life!"

The figure's voice rose, a mixture of warning and sympathy. "Then kill me!" they throwed a knife, skidding on the ground and stopping to you. "But after being done with that, what will you do next?" they asked patiently. "Use your anger and direct it to those who are responsible for the bounty because even if I didn't took the kill someone else will, I just beat them to the punch!" they says bored.

With shaking hands, you pick up the knife, the cold metal a welcome weight in your palm. "Then they'll have to deal with me!" you declare, your voice filled with a mixture of trepidation and determination. "I'm not going to let you or anyone else get away with this!"

The figure chuckled, a cold, humorless sound. "Good luck with that, Lucian. You're going to need it." With that, they turned and fled, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your pain. "If you have second thoughts find me at the Siren's Call!" they voice echoes on the alley.

You stand there, a thousand emotions swirling through your mind. The knife feels heavy in your hand, the urge to slay the bastard who dared lay a finger on your love consuming you. But deep down, you know that you need to bide your time, to hunt down your enemies and make them pay for their transgressions.

You clutch the knife, feeling a sense of calm wash over you, a clarity that settles in the deepest recesses of your soul. No matter what, you will not rest until the one responsible for MC's death has paid the ultimate price.

Gently, you crouch down and pull MC's body close to yours, feeling the sting of tears pricking your eyes. "I'll make them pay for this," you whisper, your voice filled with a mixture of rage and determination. "I promise you, MC. I won't let them get away with this." With those words, you carefully lift MC in your arms and begin the long, painful journey to bury the love of your life.

Later that night, you arrive at the Siren's Call, a gathering place for those seeking refuge from the shadows of the world. The moment you enter, you feel the weight of a thousand eyes on you, a mixture of pity and curiosity swirling in their depths. Taking a seat, you feel your gaze drawn to a figure standing in the corner.

They look familiar, their face shrouded in darkness, their posture rigid and imposing. Something about them piques your interest, and you quickly make your way towards them. As you approach, the figure seems to stiffen, their eyes glittering with a mixture of amusement and apprehension. "We meet again, Lucian," they say, their voice a low growl.

In an instant, you recognize them. "Who are you?" you question, your voice trembling with a mixture of trepidation and rage.

The figure laughs, a cold, humorless sound. "Isn't it obvious? I'm the one who took your love away, the one who watched as they lay dying in your arms."

Something inside you snaps, a rage surging through your veins like wildfire. "You bastard! You deserve to die for what you've done! I'll make you pay for what you've done, you hear me? I'll make you pay!"

The figure shakes their head, their eyes glinting with amusement. "Don't be so hasty, Lucian," they say, their tone riddled with hints of mockery and taunting. "I can help you, you know. I can help you track down the ones who put a bounty on your head, the ones who are responsible for their demise."

Something about the figure's words sends chills down your spine, a mixture of unease and curiosity bubbling to the surface. "How?" you question, your voice tinged with a hint of suspicion.

"Simple. I have connections, I have power, I can tell you what you want to know, whether it be the identities of your enemies or the secrets that lie beneath the surface."

Without warning, the figure lurches forward, their breath hot against your cheek. "What do you say, Lucian? Are you in?"

You hesitate, the urge to make them pay rising within you. But then you think of MC, their smile, their laughter, their unwavering determination and kindness. If you were to act rashly, who knows what could happen.

Before you can answer, the figure grabs your hand, their fingers digging into your palm. "Tell me what you want, and I can deliver. But you must know that there are consequences, that there will be a price to pay."

Their words echo in your mind, their meaning swirling with a mixture of intrigue and caution. You want answers, you want revenge, and they may be the key to it all. "Yes," you say, your voice a tremble on the air, "I'm in."

The figure chuckles, a low, guttural sound. "Good. Now let me tell you everything you need to know."

As the figure speaks, their words burn through you, a fury unlike anything you've ever felt igniting within you.

(Lucas' POV)

As the night drew to a close, your fingers interlocked with MC's, and a warm glow spread through your chest. The moonlight danced in their eyes, illuminating the love and joy that radiated between you. It felt like a dream come true, a love story written just for you.

The touch of their hand sent electric shivers down your spine, and a smile couldn't help but grace your lips as your fingers intertwined. In that moment, everything else faded away, and it was just you and MC, lost in each other's presence.

Time seemed to stand still as the world around you ceased to exist. The love that you thought was elusive had found its way into your life, and you were grateful beyond words. The weight of your busy work life seemed to melt away, replaced by the pure bliss of being with someone who made you feel whole and complete.

But then, as if a dark cloud had suddenly appeared, MC furrowed their brow in concern, breaking the spell of the moment. Their touch felt real, their warmth undeniable, but doubts crept into your mind, whispering that it might all be too good to be true.

With a mix of vulnerability and determination, you stopped walking and turned to face MC. Their eyes searched yours for answers, sensing the turmoil that had clouded your thoughts. Unable to contain the overwhelming emotion welling up inside you, you reached out and cupped MC's cheek, the softness of their skin grounding you in the moment.

Tears glistened in your eyes as you spoke, your voice choked with sincerity. "With you, everything feels perfect. I can't believe I'm so lucky to have you in my life," you whispered, your heart swelling with gratitude.

In that fragile moment, MC's embrace enveloped you, drawing you closer, and you let your guard down completely, allowing yourself to be held by them. Their presence provided a refuge, a sense of safety and solace that you had never known before.

But then, amidst the darkness, a glint caught your eye, and your heart clenched with fear. Instinctively, you turned your body around, shielding MC from the imminent danger that loomed ahead.

In a split second, MC spun around, taking the bolt hurtling towards you directly in their back. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched in horror, your eyes widening with disbelief. The pain in your chest was overwhelming as the reality of the situation hit you like a thunderbolt.

MC, standing there with the bolt lodged in their back, their face contorted in pain, shattered your heart into a million pieces. Without hesitation, you rushed to MC's side, catching them in your arms and gently laying them down on the rain-soaked ground, their blood staining your hands as you held them close.

Tears streamed down your face as you whispered MC's name over and over, unable to fathom the reality of the situation. MC's hand dropped to their side, their eyes closing, but before the darkness took hold, they managed to utter, "I feel lucky to have you in my life as well."

You leaned close and kissed their forehead, your heart breaking as you realized the gravity of the sacrifice they had made for you. The weight of the moment was unbearable, and you couldn't understand why such senseless violence had befallen you and MC.

In the midst of your grief, the attacker emerged from the shadows, their boots splashing on the rain-soaked ground as they approached. You didn't spare them a glance, your entire focus on MC, holding onto their fading form with all your might.

The attacker spoke, their voice dripping with malice, "May you have a peaceful and gentle death," as they callously threw a rose near MC's motionless body. Anger and confusion boiled over within you, and you shouted, "Why have you done this?" Your voice trembled with a mix of rage and sorrow, but the attacker remained masked, their eyes the only visible feature.

They showed no remorse as they replied, their voice cold and callous, "A warning, and if you don't heed it, there will be more to follow." With that, they turned their back on you, leaving you with a sense of helplessness and anger.

As the attacker vanished into the alleyways, their words echoed in your ears, causing you to gasp for air. "Tread carefully, Royal Protector," they shouted, their voice laced with malice. "You have no idea how many enemies you have made in your line of duty!"

The reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. They had killed MC as an act of revenge against you. Your mind reeled with disbelief and anguish. It was supposed to be you lying on the ground, facing death's door, not MC.

The unfairness of it all, the cruel twist of fate, made you feel like a pawn in a sick game. But amidst the overwhelming emotions, you pushed them aside and focused on the task at hand.

Gently hoisting MC's body in your arms, you moved through the dark, rain-slicked streets, determined to find help despite the urgency of the situation. The weight of MC's limp form grew heavier with each step, as if the burden of their fading life force was transferred to you.

Your eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any signs of aid, your mind racing with desperation. Raindrops fell on your face, mixing with your tears, as you moved with a sense of urgency.

The night seemed to close in around you, the darkness deepening, and the silence broken only by the distant sounds of the city. You could feel MC's breathing becoming shallower, their body growing colder in your arms. The preciousness of each passing moment weighed heavily on you, urging you to move faster, to find help before it was too late.

As you carried MC, startled faces of passersby turned to stare, but you brushed past them, determined to reach your destination. Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind focused solely on saving MC, pushing aside your own exhaustion and grief. Yet its's too late MC is gone forevermore but you didn't stop too hopeful that maybe that there's someone or anyone can help you in your plight and bring air back to MC's lungs once more.

[crypticbunnygirl]

Hihi! I loved your military ball and wanted to ask if we could have a part 2 where you guys talk about it then you tell the team your together and their reactions? Tysm I love you, take your time love 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Aw thank you! I think soap would be the biggest fan and supporter of ur relationship lmao

and heres part two!

its about 1k words lol

You woke up the next morning with a small headache nothing a pain relief wouldn’t fix, you remember the events that had unfolded at the ball. You had confessed to your lieutenant, while drunk and in front of your team. Your face flushes red, remembering the kiss. You also remember Simon saying he would talk to you when you woke up, you grabbed your phone and texted him, telling him you were awake. Within the next minute he texts you back saying that talking about this in person would be easier, you agreed and sent him your address. He responded a few seconds later saying he was on his way. Now to get some actual clothes and look somewhat presentable. You walk into your bathroom and brush your hair, wash your face and brush your teeth. You got back to your room and grabbed a pair of black leggings and an old baggy band tee. You walk into your kitchen and make yourself some coffee. While you waited for your coffee to brew you made yourself a bowl of cereal. You make your coffee and add some creamer. You finish your bowl of cereal and wash it out and set it in the dishwasher to dry. You hear a loud knock on your door, making you flinch. 

“Coming!” You say. You open the door and see Simon. 

“Come in, I got coffee and tea in the kitchen.” You say. Simon nods walking in and sitting down on the couch, you close the door and join him on the couch.

“Sooo, do I still call you ghost?” You ask.

“Around the team, yes. When it's just us you can call me by my name.” He says, you nod. 

“The mask stays on until I’m ready.” He says, you nod.

“Of course. I will be patient. After everything you have been through, I get why you will be hesitant to let me in, but I will be here for you, no matter how long it takes. I’ll be patient.” you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. That made him fall even harder for you. Your patience, your kindness and that damn smile. 

“Thank you.” Was all he could say. You are the first person to come into his life and understand him, genuinely. You continued to discuss boundaries and how things would go when on the field.

“How will the team feel?” You ask, knowing they are going to have questions when you see them again. 

“Well I know that Price is going to want to make sure it isn’t a liability in the field. You're a combat medic and I’m a lieutenant, he’s going to make sure we don’t let it interfere with our jobs. But I trust that you and I will be okay.” He says. You nod. You continue to talk and Simon brings up sex, your face flushes at the idea.

“I would like to take things slow in this relationship.” He says. You nod.

“Of course, and sex is such an intimate thing that you should work up to understand each other's feelings, bodies and souls.” You say, a blush on your face.

“Sorry rambling.” You say. 

“I like listening to you talk.” He says, your face getting redder. 

“Thanks.” You say, avoiding eye contact. 

“We should go to the base and talk to the team today, the longer we wait the worse it could be.” He says, you nod.

“I’ll drive.” He says. You nod and finish your coffee and set the mug in the sink. You get into his car and you head to base. You continue your conversation in the car, mostly you. Simon did say quite a bit. Once you get there, Simon opens your door for you. 

“Thank you!” You beam at his action. He nods. You two head in. Your nerves hit you. What if Price doesn’t think it's safe, what could go wrong? You start to overthink. Simon immediately notices this. 

“Hey, it’ll be ok.” he says, cupping your face, his eyes staring into yours, your face flushing at the contact. He found you adorable. 

“Ok.” Was all you could muster. You get to the training room and see Price, Gaz and Soap.

“Its the love birds!” Soap cheers, making you blush.

“Hush it johnny.” Simon says. Johnny just chuckles. Gaz and Soap weren’t surprised, you had feelings for your lieutenant since you met him. It was obvious to those two, they liked to tease you about it. 

“I hope it won’t be a liability on the field.” Price comments. 

“It won’t sir. I promise, it will be nothing but professional.” You say. 

“It will. We won’t let it interfere with our work.” Simon says. Price nods.

“It better not, I trust you two to be smart and let your feelings get in the way.” he says, you nod and so does Simon. You and Simon had talked about what it would be like at base, he said we would just be friendly to each other than before, maybe a hug here and there. Simon wouldn’t admit this but he really wanted to hold you again. He loved how your skin felt against his.

“And please keep it appropriate.” Price says. 

“Of course.” You say, flustered at that comment. After that Price went into his office. 

“Ya finally told him.” Soap says, Gaz nodding. 

“Took you long enough.” Gaz comments. 

“All the ogling at him.” Soap says with a chuckle. 

“Shush.” You mutter. Simon just gives him a soft glare.

“I had a feeling.” Simon says, you look at him. 

“Was it that obvious?” You ask him. 

“Yea.” He says, you roll your eyes. Soap was happy you finally told him and maybe his lieutenant would be a little more fun and Gaz was too. Price seemed neutral about it, he wouldn’t care unless it got in the way of us doing our jobs. You knew you could hold yourself back from trying anything while at work, and so did Simon. 

[radiovisual]

are you going to come back?

((I keep telling myself im going to, but im not sure. Im especially unhappy with how this blog was written and how it looks at the moment, bc theres a lot of things id Want to change before getting back into rp here, but I have no energy or motivation to do so 😔 my art block from last year is Still ongoing, im still deeply fixated on other fandoms, and VERY recently I had an epiphany of some kind and haven't been able to stop paying attention to the news, bc anxieties about what's happening in Gaza/the West Bank, Sudan, and Chile, and not to mention this next American presidential election, have me reassessing my priorities in life, ykwim?))

((Im still around technically, i wont be deleting this blog or anything, im just in kind of a tough spot, mentally+emotionally+physically, and that makes it hard to get reinvested in something like this.))

((There's also the factor of... feeling rather restricted in this community. It's not any particular person or group of ppls fault, people are entitled to feel however they want around fictional subjects and themes, but i know that the types of things that i like to write and rp are dark and mature, and this fandom [despite the Nature of the show itself and the topics it covers] tends to attract a lot of very aggressive, very judgemental people -- as im sure youre all aware 😂 i found some friends here, but even still, a lot of the time i know i Can't get into the kind of stuff i ACTUALLY want to write, because most of the ppl in this community would [at least, way back when,] assume that That kind of writing means I'm a bad, dangerous person who wants to engage with those themes in real life 🙃. Which isn't to say anyone is Wrong for avoiding me if darker themes trigger them, by all means PLEASE block me for your sanity if thats what you have to do!! but when most all of those Exact Themes are LITERALLY, graphically present in the show, now, it's like. Idk man whats going on! Why are you here! if sexually abusive relationships bother these fans so much, then Why are they in THIS fandom of all places instead of somewhere tangibly Safer for their sanity, yk???))

(( i don't know. Maybe im just a brat, but ive always felt a little put out by the Hazbin community online. Its extremely self policing and isolating trying to find people i can feel comfortable talk to about my ideas, so ive kind of... given up and moved on, found a nice group of Freaks to be perverted about the Avatar sequel instead lmao))

((So... idk. I guess we'll see. But im very sorry it may have been wishful thinking when i said id come back. I really, truly meant it at the time -- things just changed 💔, both in me And in the community. And maybe theyll change again, idk!but i Do know there's people in this overarching Hazbin Tumblr RP community who don't like me very much (which is Okay), and I don't want to force myself to walk on eggshells anymore -- so I'm won't💪😎))

((I adored my time here while i was active, whuch it why i wont delete it -- i go back to re read threads all the time! -- but unless there's a group of sexual weirdos developing that i could fall in with AND I can find a way to balance this with the rest of my life, im still gonna be on this indefinite hiatus 💀👍 sorry))

((Btw -- Palestinians are in desperate need of e-SIMs to keep in touch with their loved ones and to organize humanitarian aid within the Gaza strip itself -- if any of you have a few spare dollars, please consider getting involved. I know the news is very quiet rn, especially if you're in America like me, but let me make this very clear; We are. kind of sort of Already IN World War Three. Russia and China and the global south are finally starting to hold the west accountable and the west is failing a shitting its pants about it Spectacularly. The world order is literally shifting. There's not one, but SEVERAL major international conflicts brewing right now, as America is sliding into fascism at break neck speed bc Genocide Joe is finally realizing he's probably not going to get re-elected [on account of all the genocide] on TOP of finally seeing the tangible effects of climate change. South America and Australia are on FIRE. Like NEVER before.))

((Never Again is Now. We could be going over the temperature "tipping point" of the planet BY 2030. now is NOT the time to be wallowing in escapism, no matter how much we desperately need/want it. If there is EVER a time to get involved with the real world and to take a step back from the internet and high stress fandom bullshit, it is NOW. No matter what Side of these issues you stand on, EVERYONE needs to be voting, everyone needs to be paying attention.))

(( if you can't afford esims [no shame, i often can't either, money is tight everywhere], then at the very least get This website open in your tabs. It generates revenue with free Daily clicks, the proceeds of which are all sent to UN organizations -- particularly UNRWA, which is VITAL to maintain not only getting aid INTO Gaza, but also retaining Palestinians legal right to return to their land -- without UNRWA, Isreal can begin to LEGALLY, haphazardly "deport" Palestinians, which would take YEARS to reverse through future court proceedings. Do your part, it only takes a few seconds a day 💪🌱))

((Alright, thats all! Sorry if you wanted a short sweet answer, but ive actually been ruminating on all of this, so thank you for this ask, for giving me a chance to talk about it all. Im happy to see this community thriving in the wake of Season 1, even if im not joining in myself -- you all keep up the great work, and keep having fun with it ❤ let it empower you to explore the value of Charlie's message and think of ways to impliment it in your daily life And on the world at large‼))

[cdroloisms]

Dream tried to stop Wil from creating L'Manburg, Phil tried to stop him from blowing it up, BOTH value people over items and builds, Phil has said that they're replaceable but people aren't, Dream traded spirit for his best friends fishes (we kno he's not someone to talk abt feelings:[) BOTH were kind and selfless but used by almost if not everyone, BOTH were ready to be THE VILLAINS if it meant everyone else could live better after. ONE of them always had someone there, ONE didn't. Intentional?

aaaa sorry for the really inconsistent posts ,, im gonna try to post a little more in the next few days. i have a few things written up, so look out for them? maybe? for now, have this *gestures vaguely* thing ,, it’s kinda a mess but *shrug*

phil is such a fun character, anon, especially for all the reasons that you mentioned in the ask!! he’s a really fun character with a lot of complexities that go (sadly) overlooked by a large portion of the fandom, but he’s super cool even tho i havent analyzed him too much. hope you enjoy (and i hope my interpretation of c!phil isnt too ooc lmao) 

tw: mentioned blood, injury, implied torture/abuse, starvation, trauma, mentioned death, prison arc/pandora’s vault

When Techno first brings Dream back from the prison, Phil doesn’t quite know what to think.

“I don’t trust him either,” Techno assures him, but there’s a flickering anger in the backs of his eyes, one that had emerged ever since he came back from the prison with the other man in his arms, and Phil knows his friend well enough to know that the words are empty in the face of the piglin hybrid’s particular brand of to-the-death loyalty. He shakes his head in reply, refusing to voice his thoughts for Techno’s sake, at least, but the look that the other slants at him suggests that he’s caught onto them all the same.

At first, the work is thankfully mindless; even if Phil has reservations on the man that Techno has more or less dumped into his house, he would hardly wish the clear suffering he’s been through on anyone. The first few days pass in a flurry of brewing potions, wrapping and rewrapping dressings, stitching up cuts and setting broken bones straight. The damage is extensive; Phil has to take more than a few breaks to just leave the house and breathe - he’s far from a stranger to blood and carnage, had received the title of ‘Angel of Death’ for a reason, but even he had never been particularly familiar with this form of cruelty. Torture was a level of violence that extended beyond what even he was willing to bestow - his hands may have caused many deaths, and the weight of each one would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life, but even those had the mercy of being a quick end. The wounds and scars that ripple over Dream’s skin, thin and stretched tightly over his bones with little muscle and fat left to cushion them, speak of horrors that were anything but merciful.

“I didn’t know they were capable of all of this,” Techno says, once, as they huddle of Dream, wringing towels in cold water to wipe his feverish skin. Techno’s hand reaches for the ribboning gold-filled scars that remain from the execution - carefully, Phil raises his hand to let his fingertips brush over them as well. “I mean, I knew he was dangerous and all, but-”

“I know, mate,” Phil looks back at Dream’s face, tight even in unconsciousness, at the darkened, hand-shaped bruises that remain around his throat, at the scar that runs over his left eye, clearly meant to mirror the same one that makes its way down the duck hybrid’s own face. “You said that Quackity and Sam were working together?”

“Yeah,” Techno’s expression darkens, eyes focused somewhere on the wall, seemingly very far away. He said that nothing happened to him in the prison, and he seemed relatively unharmed when Phil activated the stasis chamber, but ever since he came back, sometimes he’ll have moments, and Phil can’t help but - wonder. “Quackity does the dirty work, Sam gives him the way in and out, probably also the tools to do it. It’s-” he huffs a short, self-recriminating laugh. “It’s bad, Phil.”

“Mate-”

Techno shoots him a look, and Phil cringes, knowing already that he’d used the wrong tone. Even with the execution, Techno had been adamant to hide all traces of his own terror and fear away from him, masking it all with fury for Phil’s own sake. He knows, just from the way his old friend looks at the ribboning scars that remain sometimes, that he is far from as over the whole ordeal as he acts, but Techno never wants to talk and Phil never knows the right time to ask and they smooth it all behind plans and explosions and hope that the TNT can blow apart the trauma, too. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that the same thing is going to happen, here.

“As soon as we can,” Techno starts again, pointedly shifting his eyes away from Phil’s face, “we’re calling a Syndicate meeting to figure out what we’re going to do about the prison. Like- come on, man, you couldn’t make a more transparent abuse of institutional power if you tried, really-” he looks over, uncharacteristic uncertainty warring over his features. “If you think that’s good, I mean-“

“Of course, mate.” Phil’s voice softens. “Whenever you’re ready.”

‘Whenever he’s ready,’ as it turns out, is easier said than done, becoming even more evident when their charge wakes up from his days long spell of unconsciousness. The worst of his injuries have, under their careful care and the benefit of many potions, healed enough to no longer directly threaten his life, but the vast majority have quite some time to go before being healed completely. Being as the goal was torture and not death, most of his injuries weren’t made to be life-threatening, but rather to cause as much pain as possible - from the grimace that twists Dream’s face when he struggles to force himself awake, they’re doing their jobs.

“Hey, mate, slow down,” Phil murmurs, pressing the man down by his shoulder when Dream weakly tries to push himself up and off the bed, and his struggling only lasts for a few more minutes before he gives up and slumps against his pillow, eyes cracking open and seeming surprisingly lucid.

“Where-“ his voice is wrecked, and Phil reaches for the glass of water at the bedside as Dream coughs. “Where am I?”

“You’re at Techno’s house,” Dream’s eyes widen and then slip closed as he processes the information, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as they knit together. “We broke you out, after Techno escaped with a stasis chamber with your book. Do you remember?”

Dream gnaws on his bottom lip. “Um- yeah. I think.” His head turns as his eyes crack open again- “Techno-“

“He’s out, right now. He’ll be back in a bit.”

“Oh.” Dream falls back into the bed, strength seemingly sapped from the short conversation. His breathing stutters, then steadies. “Okay.”

Recovery is slow. Phil doesn’t actually find himself seeing the man very often; now that he doesn’t need around-the-clock care anymore, he’s moved back into his own house, letting Techno do most of the work when it comes to rehabilitating the escaped convict crashing at his house. As he begins to spend more of his time awake and aware, he brings a whole slew of new problems; Phil catches him screaming one day, blurting harsh, angry words as Techno reads, unbothered from the other side of the room, and he stops in his tracks standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Um-“ he winces when Dream curses, smashes something against the floor, and then curls into himself at the sound. Techno doesn’t even flinch. “Am I interrupting something?”

Dream stomps away, face flushed, arms wrapped around himself. Techno raises an eyebrow.

“You lookin’ for something, Phil?” he asks, and the unpleasant knot in Phil’s chest refuses to unwind.

The episodes, unfortunately, don’t seem to get much better. Though he’s rarely outright violent, Dream looks constantly murderous, usually muttering underneath his breath about something or another while he stalks the grounds of Techno’s house. It’s not too long before Techno sends him out to work around the house instead of just moping within the cottage, which also means that Phil sees him a lot more - tending to a small farm behind the house, feeding the dogs, hacking away at mobs, and usually complaining the entire time. It’s unnerving, even as injured and unarmored as the man is, to see him walking around like this; despite his rather pathetic appearance, swamped in sweaters that dwarf him thoroughly and thin enough to look like the slightest breeze will knock him over, his eyes are flinty and intelligent and bubble with promises of revenge.

“FUCK!” Phil turns to see him slamming a shovel into the snow, stomping away into the woods, and his hands tighten around his cup of tea. Next to him, Techno shrugs.

“Nerd’s got a few issues,” he drawls, and Phil laughs shortly.

“That seems like an understatement.”

“He’ll ease up in time,” Techno sounds surprisingly confident, completely content despite the muffled curses that come from the woods next to them. He’s probably used to it, with Chat and all, but Phil can’t quite seem to find the same calm.

“I just don’t know, mate,” Phil shakes his head. “You sure having him around is the best idea? He doesn’t seem...stable.”

Techno looks up at him over the rim of his cup of coffee. His head tilts, considering, but there’s a small smile on his face that tells Phil that Techno, inexplicably, doesn’t share the same sentiments. There was always a part of him that was, for the lack of a better word, softer than the rest of the server for his self-proclaimed rival, a sort of understanding that Phil could hardly hope (nor would really want to) understand.

“Don’t worry, Phil, if he tries anything I can always just tie him up in the attic or something,” Phil huffs a small laugh, amused, and nods to concede the point. “And- well, call it intuition. You could really try talkin’ to him, you know. He reminds me of you, sometimes.”

The words stick in his head despite his best efforts, rattling in his skull when he tries to sleep, lingering when he catches glimpses of the green-clothed man stalking around their properties. He can’t imagine what would’ve prompted his old friend to make the comparison, can’t think of a single thing (besides their affinity for the color green) that would mark him as similar to the - from what he’s heard - deranged menace with a particular penchant for destruction (not that his rants and fits of anger are doing anything to correct that impression). Even so, Techno had sounded so sure when he’d made the comparison, the words offhand like he’d thought them a million times before, like it was a simple observation that held no more weight than commenting on the color of the sky. Phil watches as Dream lugs a pile of logs behind him, huffing at one of Techno’s dogs that comes to chase and nip at his feet and grumbling loudly before faceplanting into the snow. He just...can’t see it.

Days later, Wilbur comes to visit, a grin on his lips as he dramatically recounts his newest exploit: a nation by Las Nevadas, a supposed safe haven away from the glitter and glory of Quackity’s city; it sounds brilliant, it sounds lovely, and more than anything it sounds stupid, and Phil tells him as such immediately.

“You’re being reckless,” he rants at his son, wings flaring outwards and only barely noticing Dream watching from the corner of his eye, “What are you doing- picking fights with Quackity? Starting another nation- didn’t you see what happened to the first two you made? You’re going to get yourself killed, Wil!”

“Well, I’ve already seen what’s on the other side of death, and it’s really not that bad-“

“You’re my son!” The words are angrier than Phil would’ve liked, and he knows that he looks ridiculous and overbearing, criticizing the actions of his fully grown son, but all he can see is Wilbur’s face, slack with pain and grief, stained with ash and soot as his eyes flutter to half-mast in the midst of the rubble of a country he loved and destroyed and destroyed him in turn. “I can’t lose you again, Wil!”

Wilbur doesn’t quite storm out, but it’s a near thing, leaving with a clipped goodbye and leaving Phil seething on his doorstep. He spends the rest of the night pacing around the house in a sort of mad frenzy, wings stretching and folding over and over. Not for the first time, he longs for the sky, to feel the air through his wings and let the world fall into pinpricks below him; it’s this that leads him to the roof of his house, staring stubbornly at the clouds as the sun sinks down to the horizon.

“Hey.”

Phil startles; there, down below him, is Dream. He rocks back on his heels, seeming awkward, before clambering up the wall (Phil rolls his eyes at the ease with which he scales it, the feeling in his chest almost fond) and settling himself on the shingles at Phil’s side.

“Hey, mate,” Phil shakes his head. The fondness leaves, and the irritation that had risen at Wilbur’s words, earlier, comes back full-force. “Sorry- Wil came to visit, we talked. I just needed some time to think.”

Dream hums in acknowledgement, and they fall into a comfortable silence, watching as the sun dipping down past the mountains in the distance.

“You know,” Dream starts, sudden, “I told him the same thing.” He looks up at Phil, eyes faraway with old memories. “Wilbur, I mean. When he made L’manburg- I told him he was being reckless.” He shrugs. “I guess he never listened.”

Phil pauses, Techno’s words ringing in his ears. He reminds me of you, sometimes.

Dream looks surprisingly normal up close - face no longer reddened with fever or pale from blood loss, even the scars fail to really take from the boyishness of his face. He bites his lips, eyes falling away at Phil’s scrutiny, golden blond hair flopping over his forehead, newly trimmed to be something a little closer to his old length, at least in the front, the back pulled into a small ponytail. He’s young, and shockingly awkward, teeth worrying his lip, hands fiddling with each other, shifting his weight from one foot to the other several times a minute. He looks like a kid.

“He never does,” Phil lets himself smile, watches as Dream smiles back, almost like they’re sharing a joke. He wonders how well he really knows the man behind the mask. “Want to come in for some tea?”

Dream smiles wider, and something old and worn in Phils chest, knocked loose ever since he felt his son fall limp in his arms with his own sword shoved between his ribs, falls back into place.

“That would be great,” Dream replies, the words almost hopeful, and they go inside.

[bonelessghoul]

Until My Last Breath

requested by: @just-deka

summary: A heartrender in the rankings of the Crows and with an unspoken relationship with Kaz Brekker finds herself in trouble during a heist when there is a run in with the Dime Lions. When Kaz fights his way in to get her out of the mess it became, the two end up trapped and fighting for their lives. But in their last moments, the truth comes out. 

note: LMAO THIS WAS THE BEST WAY I COULD SUM UP THE REQUEST, but I was genuinely panicking at the end of this hoping this turned out the way you wanted it to!! Hope you enjoy :)

~

If you knew your life was going to end, what would you do? That would be a fun question to answer, but not if you only had minutes to live. Maybe hours. Hours was too optimistic though, and they realized that if they weren’t found soon, then the light in their eyes would be put out forever.

It was pure misery and bliss all at once as they stared at each other, the crushing weight of the rubble they were trapped under causing a flicker of fear deep in their stomachs. The things they wanted to say to each other could wrap around the world twice, but they settled with an endearing yet pained look only they knew with nothing but the space between their fingerprints reaching out to one another. It hurt to be so close and unable to touch.

If you had minutes to live, who would be the last face you’d want to see?

~

The chandeliers spaced throughout the high ceiling of the Crow Club gave a vintage touch with its dim light, making the deep red curtains around the room seem darker and masking the daylight from the outdoors. But tucked away in the second story was Kaz Brekker’s office. It was his solace away from the clamor of the club that was only muffled from where he sat hunched over his desk.

The midday crowd was already filling the club to the brim from the booths to the game tables and every space in between.  

But one figure slipped through it with ease, weaving in and out in a fresh white blouse, cinched in the middle and sleeves like balloons like an angel. It was like clockwork when you would find your way up the stairs to the office, bypassing the allure of the liquor and games Jesper engorged himself with. You were busy back in your room at the Slat, tinkering with new scraps of the latest mechanics you dug for, but like you said; your arrival was like clockwork.

Kaz, glancing at his pocket watch, stared as the thin needle of a hand rolled around the center point and as if on cue, he found YN breezing through the door with a breath of relief from squeezing through the crowd. His office smelled like remnants of firewood, the freshly brewed coffee he had filling the air. While the daylight was hidden in the club downstairs, a window was opened allowing a cool breeze and the cloudy skies to find their way into this massive space which also held a small bedroom.

As a Heartrender, you would never admit to the way Kaz’s heart would pick up whenever you were near.

“Morning.” you greeted, a handful of mail sent for him to the Slat in your hands as you crossed the space between the door and his desk.

Offering him the small stack and he took it, the shadows under his eyes seeming darker today. You were always up before the sun when your mind could not stop thinking of a new idea, and more often than not, you’d hear Kaz sneaking out in the early morning without a word.

“It’s afternoon.” he said, slyly glancing up at her as his gloved hand took the papers.

With your hands free, you sat yourself upon the very corner of his desk and looking down at the two cups of coffee still topped off with steam, one cup significantly lighter than the other. Smiling contently to yourself, you wrapped your hands around the mug and picked it up to your lips.

“Hope you got it right.”

Kaz glanced up once more as he sorted through the letters.

His eyes flickered over you for a moment, pausing from what he initially wanted to say and you could hear his heart beat in your ears as it skipped.

“Don’t worry, I made it sickening sweet.” Kaz mused, heaving a sigh as he leaned back in his chair.

“Good, I’ll slip slowly and waste more time here then.” you chuckled lightly.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy sitting on his desk, sharing a cup of coffee and hearing him rant as he read the bills, the offers from others, imported goods, the bank statements, and everything else that came with the stress of running a club, not to mention an entire gang. There as a guilty pleasure as a Heartrender that involved enjoying just how flustered became down to a cellular level , but her relationship with Kaz was different; being a Heartrender taught her how much she could push and how to know when to stop pushing given his complicated boundaries.

Admittedly, as indifferent as she made herself seem when it came to Kaz, had he been the Heartrender you would have been in trouble if he could hear your heart. Every time you saw his face at the end of a job, whenever he’d look at you as you sat like you did now, and even every little bit of your unique intimacy sent your heart racing.

It seemed there were many ways to love someone that didn’t involve touching, you thought to yourself, watching Kaz’s brows furrow in the slightest with every word he read with a bittersweet smile. But it hurt when she couldn’t hold his hand or feel his comforting arms at the end of the day.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” you asked, clearing your throat. “Things have been awfully quiet lately.”

Kaz smirked, snickering lightly to himself as he looked up at her.

“We don’t say the words quiet around here because next thing you know, it won’t be so quiet and our hands will be full with trouble.”

You raised your brows. “Well, is something coming our way?”

The look on his face confirmed it all. A simple job was offered to the Crows and a select few Dregs of his choosing (but Kaz would tell you to round up those best for it anyway), to steal a vintage piece of jewelry just brought to  Ketterdam’s historic society display room. It was a job within a job, for the person requesting this jewelry and its unique elemental composition worth hundreds of thousands, it was the key to a bigger job after this which they hoped to secure.

“They have a pretty tight security system.” You sighed, holding up the blueprints he pulled out in front of you.

“Perhaps, you can figure it out in a more spacious area than the corner of my desk.” Kaz frowned, looking away as his chin rested in his palm. Then, only his eyes moved towards her. “I’m leaving the tight security system to you because you’re the only one who is creative enough to get by them. Inej scouted every entrance and found the source of the security system’s mechanics.”

It seemed easy, nothing you hadn’t come up with before, and an idea was already forming in your head to your excitement.

“Tinker around, get the ancient necklace, and a boat load of kruge.” You said simply, your voice only wavering in the slightest as your eyes narrowed at just how intricate the alarm system was.

Kaz stood up from his seat, taking the maps from her to wrap up and slide away in its casing.

“You should be on your way. Best to get a quick start so we can be in and out tonight.” Kaz said, handing her the cylinder casing for the blueprints.

“Oh, I’d sit here all day of you let me.” you grinned, earning an eye roll from him.

“Go.” Kaz pressed, his face more asserting now, trying to hide his own smirk.

But even as you strolled out the door, you could hear his heart rate jumping. Kaz’s eyes didn’t leave your figure on the way out, still staring out into space after the door shut. He leaned over his desk with his palms pressed into the wooden edge and his head dropped with a sigh.

Kaz Brekker was in trouble and his little Heartrender already knew.

~

There was a slightly calmer hour to be found at the Crow Club between the midday crowd leaving and night crowd slowly taking its place. In that time, you found yourself sitting at a booth and sinking into the curved red velvet seating.

You were sketching out a tool that will silence the alarm mechanisms that you had been reading up on for the past two hours. Time was running slow and your back began to ache from the position you barely moved from as you dug the lead into the parchment.

“Hey, YN! How’s it—”

“Jesper!”

Your hands frantically waved him off as his palm came down on your sprawled out pile of sketches and he jumped back, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry, sorry.” You said, piling up the previous sketched of the tool you were designing, the exhaustion clear in your skiddish movements. “I have just been trying to wrap my head around this job tonight.”

Jesper smoothly slid into the booth, sitting next to you with eyes scanning over the maps. From behind, Inej approached them and slid into the booth from the other side and now, both Crows were perched upon her shoulders and looking at her work.

“The historical society in the Geldestraat is no playground.” Inej sighed.

“Oh, it’s a playground for sure, just one with little landmines at every step and Stadwatch at every corner. Then, it’s a race to the last swing on the swing set and that is our prize at the end of tonight.” Jesper ranted, his hands flailing as he spoke.

By the time he was done speaking, you and Inej stared at him, speechless.

“You must have been the child that was always bullied at playgrounds, weren’t you?” you muttered, turning your head back to the blueprints. “It’s one of the most complex, yet easiest security systems we’ve had to break into. If the necklace is on display in the spot you say it is, Inej, then this window here is our best bet.”

“Best bet for what?” Inej asked, looking at her quizzically.

Grinning, you held up the drawing of a box no bigger than your hand, the inner workings of your mind scribbled across the page.

“The window has about 5 seconds from the moment it’s opened all the way before it starts setting off an alarm which has a domino affect on the other alarms. It’s a system of bells and the window we’re going through is the start of the system. If I can forge this box to the right dimensions of the window and the string that is triggered from the window opening, then we will have a few minutes before it breaks, and the bells signal any Stadwatch in the area.”

Jesper scoffed. “Then don’t build a little tool that is going to break.”

Your hands ran over your face and instantly, you swatted at his shoulder.

“My work is impeccable, but that string is thin and ready to snap, it’s why they used it so that when the window opened, it would cut it and set off the bells.”

“Oh!” he said slowly, coming to the realization as his lips formed an o.

Even as you spoke of your plan as easily as floating down a stream, it was too good to be true. There were a dozen other factors you haven’t considered yet that made this all the more tricky. In theory, it sounded simple but getting through the window and setting up the tool in time was critical, not to mention getting to the lower level of the museum and back in time before the bells go off.

Leaning on your elbows, your shoulders sunk just a little as your mind continued to pour over the plan.

“I have to be efficient. I say we get a few minutes, give or take another fifteen minutes tops, to make it to the necklace and back without a single peep.”

Jesper glanced at Inej who was standing beside you now and looking it all over.

“Can you do that Inej?”

Immediately, the girl shook her head.

“I may be the most graceful here, but I’m surprisingly not the fastest.”

You didn’t pay any mind to the attention being shoved on you. While you wouldn’t admit it, you’ve already been thinking of it all afternoon and it left your stomach in knots.

“I’ve been walking through this all afternoon.” you sighed, a hint of defeat in your face. “Partially, I feel like taking our chances by taking these jewels in broad daylight.” you half joked.

Suddenly, your hearing focused in on a heart that almost had a third pound through his chest from the cane who always wore. That and his heartbeat both resounded through Kaz’s body with such strength, but, even when you expected him to be near, you didn’t expect him behind the booth sending the three of you with the Saints.

“We do not have the luxury of stealing things in broad daylight, YN.” Kaz said, startling everyone out of their own skin, looming over their shoulders until they he was in front of the table. “We got the jump on this before anyone else, there is no other time to do this but tonight so you all have to be ready.”

You looked up at him, slightly taken back at how high strung he was over this job, his own stressed soul infecting theirs. His eyes scanned over the three of them and then, fell on yours, but you were already looking at the hard lines in his face accentuated by his frown.

Nodding, you tore your eyes away from him and got back to work.

This job was going to break a sweat out in all of them before it even started.

~

“This one won’t explode, yes?” Kaz asked you.

Frowning at him, you waved the contraption you built in an hour Iin the air.

“Look, I know the last one did but this was a simple put together of a few different pieces. See, if you just-'

Kaz put his hand up with an exasperated look, signaling you to stop the demonstration you tried to put on by showing him the inside of your invention.

The two or you stood by one of the street level windows to the small brick building, it’s window panes and shutters painted black, and on this little side street there was no light that found its way here except the faint blue moon above their heads. Kaz had just unlocked the windows, and he stood there just inches away before he would open the window and you’d crawl in, having to be quick.

As you looked at him, you almost couldn’t distinguish who’s heart was racing faster.

Every time you tried to think of your path to the second story where the famous necklace was on display, your thoughts kept getting scrambled.

“Be fast, but not sloppy and get back here in one piece with that jewel in your hand.” Kaz said, his voice not missing a confident beat.

You nodded, smiling reassuringly and your hands nervously straightened the flaps of his wool jacket and you took a shaky breath.

“Got it. Open it up.”

With his cane, Kaz stepped towards the window and gave you one last look as you prepared to jump from the crate and through the opening. Even the first story was a bit of a height difference from the street, but you were quick and had the jumping skill set needed.

Kaz nodded at her and without a moment to waste, Kaz opened the window and you sprinted in, your foot pressing into the crate, pushing off of it and your hands clutching the windowsill to guide you in with ease. There was only a few seconds left and you leaped up to the top of the window, watching as the string that held together their alarm system was growing taught and with your heart pounding, your arm shot out to grab it before it snapped and finally, you could let out a breath or relief.

“Did it work?” Kaz asked, peaking his head through the window

Your tongue was peaking through your lips as you focused intently on wrapping the string in your contraption without moving it too much, settling it against the window secured in place like it were a second addition to big metal box against the wall that was the start it.

“YN!” he hissed.

You shushed him, beads of sweat forming at your temples, slowly leaning back as you released your invention that would keep the string in place, everything seemingly more quiet than normal.

That was good though, the silence being a sign that it was working.

Leaping down, you faced Kaz on the other side of the window and smiled at him, giving a wave of the hand in the form of a salute.

“See ya in a minute.”

Kaz grinned at you, but you turned and ran before you could hear him say a word.

The historical society was an old mansion, when they were a little smaller back in the day, converted into a museum. The hardwood floors and floral carpets were the original, the walls having been painted over a baby blue and hung with artwork that dated before Ketterdam was even recognized on the map. Everyone believed they were copies though.

You came out to the front entrance, a massive open space with a chandelier made of diamonds that sparkled and cast sharp little reflections around the room from the moon that shone in through the window above the tall double doors.

Holding your breath, you slowly looked around, not a single sound or movement to be made.

It was clear and you were set to take off up the stairs, careful not to place your hand along the railing. At the top of the stairs, it split into two hallways but you need not worry about which one to go down because the jewels were sitting in a small case, overlooking the home. They were meant to be in a room down the hall, having yet to be put on display, but it seems your job just got easier.

With a devious, proud grin across your lips, you looked at the ember colored jewels sat into the heavy golden necklace, and even you had to take a moment to admire it’s beauty as if there was a fire burning in each and every individual stone. But, you glanced at the pocket watch you had stolen from Kaz years ago and knew you only had a minute of assurance that the alarm wouldn’t go off before you had to run back

With gloved hands, you lifted the glass boxand plucked the jewel out from it.

In one swift move you placed the glass back and turned around, ready to bolt down the stairs, but two gunshots shattered your senses and while you couldn’t understand why at first, you were sent hurdling down the stairs with no control of your body.

Kaz was growing impatient standing in the alleyway, anxiously checking his watch, counting down the minutes. It shouldn’t have taken this long, and he knew that you knew that as well. Maybe they hid the necklace after the museum closed or maybe they haven’t even had the chance to put it out yet, but Kaz was not looking forward to having to jump to their plan B.

“Dammit, YN" he hissed, glancing through the window into the dark hallway.

But the sound of guns being fired sent him in a frenzy and without waiting a second, Kaz climbed through the window fearing the worst.

By the time you landed, rolling to a stop, the wind had been knocked out of you, pain started surging through your backside from your left hip to right shoulder blade, and left you dizzy and gasping for air. Still clutched in your hands was the necklace, and you tried to focus on how many heartbeats were in the room, but you couldn’t concentrate with the pain you were in.

“Lock her up, she’s a Heartrender.” said a man with a thick Kerch accent that sent her stomach in knots.

“No.” you painfully gasped, trying to bring your hands together.

But one boot came stomping down on the wrist that held the necklace and your screamed out in pain as your shattered bones grinded against. Suddenly, your numb fingers could no longer find the golden chain as it was taken from your hands in Pekka Rollins came into view.

“I’ll be taking that, darling. Thanks for doing the work for us!”

As Pekka stood over you, his shadowed face looking down at you with a horrid grin that made your blood boil. Your hand was shaking as you tried to bring them together, but he waved his finger in front of your face.

“Don’t even try it or a bullet will be put in your head the moment you even move a muscle.” he threatened.

At the sound of a cane smacking into a man’s skull, your head sharply turned as you lay on the ground, watching Kaz storm into the room and begin fighting the Dime Lions that charged at him.

“Kaz, no!” you cried out, your heart nearly lurching from your chest.

It was only moments before two of them seized Kaz, bringing him down on his knees. Tears pricked your eyes as you watched them relentlessly dig their fists into every part of his body, his head refusing to fall in defeat.

“What a surprise, Mr.Brekker.” Rollins taunted, strolling over to him. “I worried you might have been here before we were when your little Wraith hijacked our meeting with the buyer, but I figured, why not sit back and let you do the work for us?”

Kaz glared up at Pekka, his eyes flickering to you as you lay there, a gun pointed to your head at the hands of another Dime Lion and you watched his face drain of all its color.

“Not her.” Kaz said unconsciously, the words passing through his lips like he were thinking out loud. 

That was their first mistake.

“I didn’t know the Dregs at a Heartrender in their rankings.” Pekka said, observing Kaz’s faulty eyes, glancing back at you with a smug grin. “That sounds a bit like cheating.” But then, he shrugged and his head rolled back to Kaz. “Bah, what do I care? She won’t make it much longer, but you? If you manage to crawl out of this mess, I might have a little more respect for ya.”

You didn’t know what mess Pekka Rollins was referring to, but your backside was already aching, blood seeping through your clothes now as you lay on the cold floor.

Kaz was writhing in their grips, bloody murder written across his face as he seemed to make his way out of one of their grasps and just as you thought he would have won, a gun shot rang through the air and made you jump.

Despite all the pain, you watched as Kaz crumpled to the ground and your body instantly shot up, wincing as Pekka kicked him in the face. But another shot resounded through the air, and you collapsed back on the ground with your hand still reaching for him, your leg now feeling useless as the bullet lodged itself in your calf. You watched as Kaz roll in his back, face contorted with pain.

The tears began to fall and you lay there, looking at him, waiting for his eyes to open and look back at you.

“Let’s leave, boys. Blow the place on the way out.”

That order sent a chill through your body and you helplessly watched them walk away.

“Kaz…” you weakly croaked out, watching him begin to prop himself up, one hand holding his stomach. “Kaz, we need to go.”

As you tried to shuffle towards him, every muscle in your body screaming with pain, you were only inches away from your fingertips reaching the lapels of his coat. Kaz looked at you, his eyes wide, but the moment he reached out for you, a blast shook the entire building and the last thing you saw was the walls crumbling down around you.

~

“YN!”

The voice was muffled, just barely heard over the ringing over your ears. Slowly, your eyes blinked open, and you couldn’t feel a thing as you watched the dark blue twilight sky above your head. It was almost peaceful, the sky lightening ever so lightly that you could make out the thick clouds that were almost black against the backdrop of the sky.

But then, the sharp scent of smoke that clouded your lungs and the irony taste of blood in your mouth took you away from your blissful moment and thrusted you into one of sheer panic as it crawled up your spine.

“YN!”

The ringing stopped and you could hear the cackling of flames and rubble grinding against each other now, turning your head to see Kaz.

Soot streaked his face; the panic you felt now visible in his widened eyes and the way his lips hung open like he was staring at a ghost. Your hands were merely inches from each other now and all around, the ceiling lay in shambles, the chandelier at your heads spreading its little diamonds across the space between you two. For a moment you wonder if that was what spared you two from the wood and stone that lay around you, but when you looked, you see that wood was piercing your thigh and the door lay over your ankle.

“Kaz.” you said shakily, looking back at him.

It was amazing how you couldn’t feel a thing, but that was probably good.

You two stared at each other, panting and clearly at a loss of what to do, except all you two could do was look at each other.

If you knew your life was going to end, what would you do? That would be a fun question to answer, but not if you only had minutes to live. Maybe hours. Hours was too optimistic though, and they realized that if they weren’t found soon, then the light in their eyes would be put out forever.

It was pure misery and bliss all at once as you stared at each other, the crushing weight of the rubble they were trapped under causing a flicker of fear deep in their stomachs. The things they wanted to say to each other could wrap around the world twice, but they settled with an endearing yet pained look only they knew with nothing but the space between their fingerprints reaching out to one another. It hurt to be so close and unable to touch.

If you had minutes to live, who would be the last face you’d want to see?

“Don’t look at my like that, YN.” Kaz grunted, trying to pull himself up. “Don’t look at me like you’re going to die.”

The bruises scattered across his face and the blood that soaked through his shirt were clear as day, but he seemed unphased as he tried to move closer.

You faintly smirked at him, feeling a trickle of blood from the corner of your lip.

“I think only you could look like an angel even when a building exploded around us.”

Kaz saw you smile through the pain, and every effort to be strong he tried to put up was whisked away by the look on your face as his shoulders fell. He could have collapsed back to the floor, letting the sleep take him away, had it not been for the way you smiled at him. Of course, he was in pain too, but it was insurmountable to the pain caused by the sight before him. His heart raced, wondering just how he would manage to drag the two of you out of this as his own limbs grew weary and tired from trying to sit up.

“I think you should get a demo man, Jesper always wanted one.”

Kaz, exhaled, letting out a brief chuckle.

“Why should I when half of your inventions explode anyway? We’ll have plenty more to come.”

There was a tinge of fear to his voice, hidden by the hope that you would make it til morning, and you could hear it; he didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t let Pekka Rollins take someone else from him, even if it meant waiting until his last breath to take his life.

You rolled your eyes at him, the pain slowly starting to return as you gazed at the ceiling.

You kept your heart beating, your blood flowing, but you tried to pull yourself closer to Kaz only to sink back into the floor with defeat and suddenly, your chest started to rise and fall quicker. This couldn’t be it. You were stronger than this. You had to survive—if not for the Crows, but for him. Perhaps, you were being too hopeful after all.

“Kaz.” you croaked out, looking back at him with the tears threatening to pour out of your eyes.

“YN, we will be okay.” he said, his voice stern as if he could read your mind.

Suddenly, when he was within reach, you clasped his gloved hand and forced as much life into him as you could, watching him become caught off guard as his heart began to race.

“No.” he pleads.

Kaz tried to pull away, but you wouldn’t let him.

“You need to conserve your energy. We need to get out of here before the Stadwatch find us in the middle of this.”

“I’m saving you so you can save the both of us!” you argued, using his hand to pull yourself a little closer, both of you straining to bring yourselves together. But you paused for a moment, trying to catch your breath. “One of us needs to make it out of here tonight and I’m the only one who can make sure of it.”

Kaz finally pulls his hand away, and you watch him fight against everything that brought him down to sit up, leaning his back on the heavy chandelier and the remnants of the ceiling that supported it. He shut his eyes for a moment, and you watch the connection between you break as he becomes overly drained, still thinking desperately of a way out of this. As he sat there, you too fought against the pain coursing through every nerve of your body, the bullets lodged within you taunting your beaten soul as you tried to sit yourself up too. The cracked bones in your wrist made you gasp when you tried to put pressure on it, but you fought through it for one last push as you sat yourself up against the chandelier just a foot away with him.

“I cannot leave here alone. I can’t go back if you’re not with me.” Kaz said slowly, his head turning to you.

Now that you two were closer to each other, you could see just how hurt he was.

You opened your mouth to speak, ready to grasp his hand again, but blood spattered through your lips as you coughed it up.

Black spots danced across your vision, and you slowly start to fall over.

Kaz’s breath hitched, and his arms moved before he could even think to do so, dragging you towards him.

The moment you felt his arms around you, you came back to your senses, looking up at him from where your head lay on his chest.

“Kaz, you don’t—”

“I-I have to.” He says, shuddering slightly.

Kaz’s mind could not seem to push away the suffocating feeling your touch brought, and he found himself looking away, trying to fight off the horrifying memories of the ocean swallowing him whole. 

But he squeezed you tight, all flesh and bone still warm with life, trying to push out the gruesome images of his last memories with Jordie. You were alive in his arms, and he wouldn’t live to see the day you weren’t despite their odds right now.

For so long, you dreamed of the day Kaz could hold your hand, even let his knuckles brush by yours. But you never thought this is how it would go.

“It’s because I’m dying, isn’t it?”

Yes.

Kaz looks down at you, already accepting the defeat of the night, and he is almost too horrified to speak as your eyes seemed calmer now than from the second you finally regained consciousness.

“It’s because—”

He pauses, looking away from you and you hang on to every word.

The only thing he wanted to do was hold you, hating himself for never doing it sooner.

“It’s okay, Kaz.” you smile sadly. “There was going to be a day when I’d watch you all grow old and leave me, but if I don’t make it through this, at least I won’t have to watch that happen.”

There was a million things you could say, a million things you built up for years since the day you saw him. In all that time you never imagined it all coming down to this and you were just so tired, but you wanted to hear him say the words.

“But I want to hear you say it.” You said, your voice growing quiet.

No matter how much you tried to justify letting go, you didn’t want to. Your heart beat for him as you looked up at him and all you wanted to do was hear him say those words.

As your eyelids became heavy, you tried to focus on the way your heart beat alongside his, pressing your hand against his chest so that you could fight for the two of you, but his heart was already racing. You loved the sound of it, remembering every time you would hear it jump the moment you stepped into a room.

“I’m afraid we don’t have enough time for me to hold you and tell you the words you want to hear.”

Kaz was fighting for his life and his urge to finally tell the truth about everything. The way he hated when you’d sit on his desk, play with his jacket when there was a slight hair out of place, and he hated how even now you were fighting to keep both of you alive. But there was the way he loved watching you outwit everyone of the Dregs when they played at the tables, the way he loved when you’d doze off in his office after a long day of working with your tools and so much more he hated himself for only paying attention to now.

“Are you going to make me do everything?” you ask, weakly smiling, hiding your face as your hot tears stained his chest.

You could feel him smile, and you could also feel your energy draining by the second.

“I love you, Kaz. Until my last breath.” you said, fearing this would be your last.

The words were on both of their minds, yet, Kaz couldn’t wrap his head around it and when you said it, his lips parted ever so slightly, staring ahead at the rubble as if that was the biggest shock to come of the night. Those words were foreign to him, they belonged to a shell of who he was and he couldn’t allow himself to accept it. His heart ached though, almost wanting to hear it again from your lips.

But then, when his heart suddenly slowed and he felt your hand leave his chest, Kaz looked down at you in a panic.

“YN…” he whispered urgently.

“I’m here.” you murmured; your eyes closed.

It felt so nice to shut them for a moment.

Kaz looked down at you, everything in him spinning, and he was ready to march you out of here now to get help but even then, as he tried to move, the pain in his body kept him grounded. Sighing in defeat, he smacked his head against the back of the chandelier and rubble he leaned upon, wanting to scream or yell and curse the world for making him so weak. His mind lingered back to the waters, Jordie’s molted and rotten skin at his fingertips, while he kicked back to the harbor swimming against all odds.

“I love you too, YN.” he said, the words cutting through the silence around them.

Deep down, he didn’t want to say the words out loud, knowing they might be the last he says to you. He yearned for more time to love you, to stroke the hair off your face as he did now as the corner of your lips turned upwards. 

It made him forget to breathe as he frantically searched around, wondering if there was a way out.

But the exhaustion was tearing him apart and he looked down at you one last time, the smile off your face as your head rolled slightly. 

It wasn’t long before his eyes closed too.

~

“I found them!” 

The Dregs were scouring the rubble after they heard the explosion from the rendezvous point, Jesper and Inej running back after seeing that the two of you never made it. 

When the pair heard one of the Dregs call out, the pair exchanged a worried look before pushing through the remnants of the mansion. They feared they would find your mangeled bodies waiting for them, but they skidded to a halt when they saw something else entirely.

Jesper’s face fell, as Inej’s hand clamped over her mouth, watching as Rotty checked their pulses, the man’s hands shaking as they checked. 

“They’re still breathing!” Rotty shouted with relief. “Let’s move them out of here, they’re hurt pretty bad.”

But Inej and Jesper could not move just yet, staring with teary eyes from the overwhelming release of the weight on their shoulders. You sat curled up alongside Kaz, his arms wrapped around you, holding so tightly they could have swore he turned to stone. 

There was no time to waste though, and they ran to you and Kaz to drag the two of you out to safety. 

[roger-that-cap]

meet me in the gardens

knight!natasha x lady!reader

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say not to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either.

warnings: marriage lol, angsty knights and ladies, reality slapping mfs in the face almost too quickly

word count: 3.3k

hi guys,,, it has been a slow minute, thank you guys for even still clicking on this after all this time lmao 

part seven!!

It was customary to have more than one handmaiden dress a lady for her wedding, but both you and Wanda knew that no one was going to be allowed to watch you break down from the inside out. There were no words between the two of you as she laced you up as an unmarried woman for the last time, your gown gorgeous and heavy with weight and meaning. You didn’t even sniffle as the tears ran down your face, eyes blazing with emotions that would be forever unspoken. 

 Wanda wiped your face and started to dress that up, too. 

While you stood there, you couldn’t help but think of the night before. Dinner with Rumlow was an absolute travesty. He was rude, brutish, and even more of an animal than your last husband. He chewed like he was some type of wolf, smacked his lips far too loud, and was by far the rudest person to your staff. His language was of the pirates and his eyes wandered from you, to Wanda, to a younger girl, and then back to you with the same look of disgusting desire. It was painfully obvious that he was the type of man to see things and get things because he desired them. He was the type to break his toys, as well. He was horrible, and that was all before the eyes of other people. You started to feel sick when you thought about how brave he would be behind closed doors. The doors that would be closing very, very soon on the two of you. 

 The dinner was horrible, but the worst part was that Natasha wasn’t there. The worst part was always going to be her absence.

“You look so beautiful,” Wanda said, her voice a crackling and regretful whisper as she watched you in the vanity, a small and forced smile on her face. You met her eyes only for a second in the mirror before you turned them away, down to look at your covered feet. 

  “I’m being thrown away,” you said slowly, like the words were pulling themselves from your lips. “For the second time in my life. Is this the life of a woman that I tried to avoid so terribly? Is this the fate of all women?” 

 Wanda opened and shut her mouth, trying to find something to say that could possibly help you, and then she just shut it for good, her lips wobbling. You could feel her guilt radiating off of her, feel it stewing and brewing inside of her heart and chest even though it wasn’t her fault. You wanted to tell her that, to reassure her that she didn’t fail you like she thought she did, and that she never could fail you, but your lips were stuck together as white hot tears fell down your face. 

 There were three sharp knocks on your door, and you wiped your tears quickly, expecting someone to barge in. “Who is it?” You asked, the fake strength in your voice barely enough to hide the fact that you were crying and miserable. 

“I’m Lord Rumlow’s-”

“You aren’t allowed in here,” Wanda responded roughly. “No one sees her until she comes out, that’s a rule.” And it was a rule, one that you had forgotten all about. No one was supposed to see the bride before she made her long walk to the groom. And even during the walk, a covering was supposed to be on the bride’s face, shielding her from the world. It was sickening. “So go away.” Wanda’s tone had whoever the man was nearly jogging away, not even asking a second question. 

“I don’t know if I’m gonna be sick or not,” you muttered, and Wanda pushed the barrel that she brought earlier closer towards you. 

“Use it if you need to, honey.” Just as you were about to bend over and give up the breakfast that you didn’t even eat, there were soft raps on the door. 

  “If  have to tell you to go away one more time-” 

“It’s me,” a familiar vice said, and Wanda immediately stopped talking. “And I brought someone else, too.” You picked your head up from the barrel and looked towards the closed door, trusting that Pietro wouldn’t have done anything stupid. Wanda felt the same, clearing the space between where she originally was and the door within seconds. Pietro came in, fumbling and looking at you with a pitiful smile. You turned away, and then there was a flash of red in the corner of your eye. 

Your chest seized up.Your hands started to shake, and the tears that you had dried started back up all over again. “Oh.” 

“Let’s leave them for a few moments, Pietro.” Wanda suggested, tugging him out of the room by the arm and leaving you and Natsaha in the room together, alone. 

No one spoke for a long time.

You just stared at her, just like she stared at you, watching her chest rise and fall, and the guarded look in her eyes. She looked angry. But you knew her better than that. Sometimes, you wondered how you know her better than that because you had such a short time to know her at all. But it felt like you had watched a thousand sunsets and seen millions of river cycles with her. But it still wasn’t enough. And now, standing in front of her with a wedding dress that wasn’t meant for her at all, you knew that you had lied to her and to yourself that night at the river. Nothing was ever going to be enough.

“You look…” She started, taking a step closer to you. “You look stunning. You always have.” 

You shook your head at her, looking away for a moment to gather your bearings. Your voice trembled as you tried to get something out, anything that would make the situation even a little better.  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You gave her a glare. “Don’t be. We both knew how this was going to end, and we both still continued. This isn’t shocking news to me, or you. It’s horrible, but we knew it was coming.” 

In that moment, reality hit. All those stupid promises about going to the gardens or the woods behind Rumlow’s back seemed like a suicide mission. That one, long chat about running away seemed like two naive children after being scolded by their parents. You had been peacefully living in an untainted world with Natasha, when you of all people knew much better than that. “So, what? What point are you getting at?” 

“I chose to go on being with you because I knew that regardless of where you were or where I was, or who you were with, that the love wouldn’t leave. I chose to have a little slice of happiness and knowledge that we tried, and that we had fun together. I chose to have that, and so did you. We know that we would have worked out, if this wasn’t happening. We know that if there’s another universe or another life, that we’ll end up together. Just not this time.” She took a step closer to you, her eyes lingering on your damp cheeks. “I’ll always be in love with you.” 

You were realizing too quickly that a world where you were allowed to love her and she was allowed to love you was years and years away. It was a place you could only dream about, but all you had to work with was a world who didn’t tolerate true love in the face of duty, and a world who certainly didn’t tolerate two women together. You would not let her die for you, or your love. 

“From afar,” you said, and for a second you were afraid that she would push you and ask why you were walking away. You were afraid that she wouldn’t get it. You had been jumping around in your own mind, making concrete conclusions at the drop of a hat and jumping to the next subject. You wondered if she was keeping up, if she was on the same page as you were even through all the skipping around. 

It hurt to admit, but you were realizing that you were on the same page. Just the other night, you were promising forever, promising every second alone to each other. You promised a life of secrecy and adoration, and that was what your hopeful heart wanted. But now, you had a mind, and your mind knew it was life or death. Your mind knew that sneaking around wasn’t plausible and it held more potential for danger than you ever wanted to have. By the look in Natasha’s eyes, you could tell that she had made a complete turn, too. You were both at the same crossroads, staring at each other from feet away.

You had told her forever, and she had promised you the same, but it just wasn’t going to work. It never was going to in the beginning. 

But then she nodded at you, a sad look in her eyes even though there was a tiny smile. “From afar.” 

“Are you gonna be there?” 

“To watch you get married?” She said, her face twisting up in disgust. “No.” Pause. “I can if you want me to be.” 

You shook your head. “Don’t come.” She would already have to sit through the hours of barbaric celebration by law, but she didn’t have to watch the ceremony. Making her would be torture to you both. 

“That’s what you want?” You nodded your head. “Then I won’t come.” 

Your heart was racing in your chest, contrasting to the way you typically felt just content upon seeing her. “What if I told you that I wanted you to kiss me one last time?” 

“I’d ask where all the time went, for us to be on our last already.” 

You scoffed, more out of disbelief than because you found it funny. “Where did all the time go?” 

She shrugged. “The stars ate it up.” 

§§

You had to be one of the angriest brides the kingdom had ever seen. The veil covered your face, your hands trembled with nerves and fury, and your eyes held unshed tears. Wanda was whispering beside you as the room to the door opened, telling you that she would always have your back while the procession started, but you hardly heard a thing. All you could think of was that it was your second time being sold like a farm animal, being made to marry someone you hated. You hated it. You hated the High Priest. You hated that the distant king did nothing. You hated that you weren’t strong enough to put a knife through Lord Rumlow’s eye. 

The procession was slow, as all processions for weddings were. Much to Lord Rumlow’s chagrin, you were being led by two people instead of one, who was supposed to be one of his knights. Wanda and Pietro led you, one on each side, the three of you linked by hand while it was traditionally by elbow. Your feet ached almost as much as your heart as you walked past people that you could hardly see because of the veil, but you could tell that they were in awe. The dress was long and beautiful, you had some of the most expensive jewelry money could buy, and you were sure that you looked like a princess. You could hear the whispers of people who were excited to watch a noble wedding, excited to have the feat that was entitled to everyone in the village after such a big event. You wanted to cry once you realized how unaware they were about the way you were forced into it. 

Soon, you checked out of your own body. You were confident enough in Pietro and Wanda’s leading of you to close your eyes, holding back tears. If he lifted the veil and saw you crying, who knew what he would do? You saw stars when you did, constellations, clouds, even flashes of your favorite rose bushes. You took in a breath, eyes still closed as you tried to find a happy place. You prayed to the gods that the walk would be never ending, that the twins would lead you off in the forest and have you live as some sort of forest woman, fending for herself but free. But then their feet stopped. 

 “Today we have come under the light of the sun to see a love blossom,” your eyes snapped open as you blinked, squinting at the priest who was holding his brown book, even though he hardly needed it. He was talking without looking at it, eyes searching the crowd for attention. You rolled your eyes. 

He seemed to talk for hours. You could feel Brock Rumlow next to you, taking Pietro’s spot on your right. Pietro made a displeased sound and stood next to Wanda, who was clenching your hand tightly, like she was terrified of letting you go. You were so far out that you didn’t even realize that he was done talking until you felt your right hand be grabbed by a rough one, one that reminded you of words and fights and blood. It was callous and cruel, and your head whipped around to see Brock Rumlow holding the deep red sash, his mouth moving in confidence as he repeated the vows that the priest said. 

“Lady Y/N,” the priest said, and slowly, your veiled face turned his way. “Repeat after me, if you please. No, I do not please. You echoed every word with such monotony that it hurt your own sears. You saw Rumlow’s jaw twitch at your minor defiance. You tilted your head higher. “You may now wrap your hands.” 

You watched him wrap both of your hands together with the thick, red ribbon. Your stomach lurched as you realized that there was no going back after the priest said the next words. You had already been through it once before. Your heart skipped beats in your chest. I’m never going to be free again. This is it. This is my last moment of freedom. My last moment of true happiness has gone with the wind. 

“You may now unshroud your bride, and show her to the awaiting world.” 

§§

The rest of the day passed in a blur. A common girl that Rumlow had nearly thrown your way was refused by you, and when she said that she was required to stay, you made her sit down while Wanda undressed you and put you into the comfortable yet delicate dress that brides wore after their weddings. She had to watch awkwardly as you sobbed in and out of Wanda’s arms, not even caring that she was there. 

The tears were long gone by the feast and the anger had come out to play. Every time your new husband attempted to speak to you, you ignored him. There was a hard look in your eyes as you sat and watched everyone, watching the culture clash between your peaceful people and his rowdy men and women. They were the ones drinking quickly, belching, laughing far too loudly for your taste, and being crude. Your people had separated themselves from them and were talking amongst themselves, no doubt becoming worried because of your demeanor. 

“You’ve only spoken to me once tonight, wife.” You ignored him again. 

It was true. You spoke to him one time, and it was when he told you that Wanda and Pietro couldn't sit at the grand table. According to him, there weren't enough seats at the table that was meant for lords and ladies, and he had brought his own fair share. He didn’t see the twins as anything other than your friends, and so he tried to have them moved over to the corner of the room. You didn’t tolerate that at all. “They’re staying with me,” was all you said, and by the way he tensed up, you were sure that it was going to be a fight. Maybe it was the rage in your eyes that made him back down and nod twice, jaw clenching along with his fists. But indeed, they were beside you, just as silent and angry as you were. 

Natasha hadn’t shown up yet. It was heavily frowned upon for her to miss the celebration, but you weren’t going to force her to come. You knew that if the roles were reversed that you would rather die than see her dressed as a bride and not be your bride. You knew that the situation was eating at her just as much as it was at you. You hated it. 

Part of you was glad that she wasn’t there. You were glad that you wouldn’t be tortured by seeing her so far away but so close, so unattainable that it was laughable that your heart even wanted her. But since she had gotten out of that carriage and you had expected a man, your heart pumped for her. And it always would. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, wife?” Even though you hadn’t heard his voice much, you knew his slimy, self assured tone from anywhere. It sent shivers down your back and a frown to your face as your thoughts were catapulted from the woman you loved straight to the man who you would rather die than be associated with. 

The dress was heavy on your shoulders even though you were sitting down, and your distraught feelings were heavy on your mind. “No.” 

“We’re wed, and now we are powerful.” He said, his goblet of wine reaching out towards the guests, even though only a few were watching your interaction. “Look at us. Two people in deep lov-”

“I really couldn’t care less, Lord Rumlow.” You said, blinking twice once you realized that you had spoken your thoughts aloud. You swallowed some water from your own silver goblet with the time that his shock granted you. “You and I both know that this wasn’t for love, and if you ever suggest that was the reason we were married, I will tell everyone the way you begged for my hand over letters and make sure that you are no longer capable of having an heir.” 

There was another moment of silence from him, and then a scoff. His face was friendly, maybe approachable even, but when you took a shallow look into his eyes, you could see the fury brewing beneath his expression, the anger at being blatantly disrespected- by a woman.  

“Look,” he started, his voice more sinister than you had heard it yet, “we have two major pieces of land together, and a large population  of people under our control. Farmlands and water, it’s ours now. On my own, I was strong. But now that I’ve wed you, I’m fucking untouchable.” He leaned back in his seat and you released a long breath through your nose. His dark eyes were still boring into yours, even as you dared to tilt your head sideways, a show of derision. There was a subtle flash of red. “And I will be damned to hell if I let you disrespect me after I’ve climbed my way from the bottom. Remember that.” 

  You had already had enough. Enough of him, enough of the situation, enough of being told what to do. The first man you married that had turned you from a girl rolling in dirt with pigs into a wealthy lady without even a whisper of your consent was long gone. You would be damned if you let another turn you into a broodmare and an idle chess piece, regardless of the consequences. “And my first husband is dead,” you said, head tilting even more. “Remember that.” 

You couldn’t hide your smirk without the silver goblet. 

******

an: well hi guys haha it’s been a while since this has been updated! i’m so sorry that its been about two months... i hope that someone still loves this story at least! its coming to an end very soon! i hope it all ties together like i want it to, and that it feels resolute to you guys. i’m gonna tag some of y’all!!

taglist!

@yelenabelovasgf​  @msmarvelsmain​ @procrastinatingsapphictrash​ @fayhar​ @8plasma​ @slut-for-nat​ @dontmindmejustreading​ @swords-are-cool​ @200605chaeng​ @thescottishavenger @antidaytime​ @jenny-song​ @madamevirgo​ @natasha-danvers​ @blackxwidowsxwife​ @shycucumbersandwich​ @dailyavengering​

@xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ @ima-gi--na-tion​–na-tion @chickenhavewisdom​

[marvelfansince08love]

A Christmas Gift

Word Count: 4K

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader 

Warning: Smut 18+ (a little filthy, you’ve been warned) 

Enjoy my loves! Merry Christmas to you all, Mwah x

This is how I picture Cordelia’s dress later in the fic (may have gotten carried away so I’ll just go hide in a corner lmao)

Tagging a few of my loves💛 : @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @mssallymckenna @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @pearplate @r0an0ke @coconutlipss @minavenable @venablemayfairgoode @versonstar @veteranwerewolf95 @fandom-nsfw-things @saucy-sapphic @creepingwolfberry @nyx-aira @witchxaf @duchessfics @billiedeansbottom

A Christmas Gift 

The smell of freshly baked cookies and coffee travels from the kitchen as you take in the Christmas morning. Smiling softly as you pass the living room, presents stacked high around the tree that stands tall in the corner of the room ready for a certain well behaved boy; who continues to sleep peacefully unaware that the big guy in red has been and gone. Wrapping your arms around yourself, your smile turns into a huge grin when you take in the scene before you. Ally stands by the coffee machine as she pours coffee into her mug humming quietly to the well known Christmas song that plays from the speaker, Cordelia sways softly to the beat of the joyous tune placing the cookies onto the plate at the kitchen table. Leaning against the doorframe you bask in the image before you, grinning ridiculously when you take in their red and white pyjamas that match your own. Oz had insisted that this year you all wore matching pyjamas on Christmas day and you were not to change out of them all day, Ally had put her foot down about that last part. 

Cordelia notices your presence first, gazing over at you with her chocolate brown eyes so full of love as her lip twitches into a soft grin. You move away from the doorframe, tiptoeing quietly over to your blonde wife, pressing a kiss to her hair as you whisper into her ear, eyeing Ally who continues to tidy around the counter area still unaware of your presence with her back turned as the music blares from the speaker next to her. 

“Merry Christmas, my love.” Cordelia leans into you, a soft smile appearing on her lips. Her gaze meets yours as you nod over to your brunette wife, winking playful at the blonde as her eyes sparkle with mischief. Moving away from the witch, you move quietly over to Ally wrapping your arms around her waist holding her flushed against you, feeling her tense for a brief moment before relaxing into your familiar embrace. Propping your chin onto her shoulder, you turn slightly to press a delicate kiss to her exposed neck. 

“Merry Christmas, beautiful.” You whisper close to her ear. She turns in your arms holding onto your shoulders as she pecks your lips, smiling widely against your mouth. 

“Merry Christmas, sleepyhead.” She teases, before turning back around and grabbing the freshly brewed coffee and the herbal tea, brushing past you playfully she places the tea in front of the blonde who sits at the kitchen table. She kisses the brunette in thanks, brown eyes locked onto brown for a moment a feeling of warm contentedness flows through the room as you watch the pair, your heart full at the sight. You are interrupted by the sound of loud thudding as smaller feet sprint down the stairs, making you share a knowing look with the two matching their grins. Oz sprints straight into the kitchen, his eyes bursting with excitement as his thick blonde hair sticks out in all directions, glasses slightly crooked perched on his nose. 

“He’s been, he’s been!!” He exclaims, grinning from ear to ear. Ally moves forward first wrapping her arms around his shoulders, kissing the top of his blonde curls. 

“Wanna see what he’s left you?” She mutters into his hair making the boy nod excitedly before sprinting off in the direction that matters most. You smile into your mug basking in the smell of coffee early in the morning, as Ally races after the boy. Cordelia glances over to you a mischievous glint within her brown eyes as she saunters over towards you, eyeing her form you watch on in apprehension. The blonde witch flushes herself up against your side as she takes your mug grimacing slightly at the strong coffee smell, placing it onto the counter next to her. Her lips brush along your cheek before resting close to your ear. 

“I hope you enjoy your present, my love. I have to say it fits perfectly.” She purrs, before leaving a wet trail of kisses along your neck. Within a blink of an eye the blonde saunters off following the departed footsteps of your other wife and son. You gape for a moment, your brain trying to process her words as if you imagined them before shaking yourself out of your dirty thoughts and sprinting after your family. 

‘God I love Christmas,’ You thought wistfully, coffee long forgotten. 

***

You were never one for Christmas holidays, the idea of a big jolly fella in a red Santa suit delivering presents always seemed so ridiculous to you but as you sit curled up into the corner of the sofa with the comfortable weight of your excited son snuggled close to your side, you are thankful to have a new, more positive perspective on the day. With the wrapping paper now removed from the living room; per Ally’s request and presents neatly piled in the corner of the room, you all sit cozied up around the big TV, watching as the tall giant dressed in an elf’s costume runs around New York looking for his dad. Cordelia glances over to you from above Oz’s mob of blonde curls and winks smiling softly as she pulls Ally closer to her on her other side. The peaceful atmosphere is quickly ruined by the horrible sound of your cell phone, groaning as you gently remove the tired boy that is slumped against you, who automatically curls into Cordelia making your heart ache at the disruption. Grabbing the irritable phone from the table, you quickly answer the person who is intruding on your family time. Ready to give them a piece of your mind, you pause after hearing the sound of sobbing coming through the other end. 

“Katie?” You ask, frowning at her heart wrenching sobs. You feel Ally and Cordelia’s gaze on you as you remove yourself from the living room, confusion evident within their matching brown eyes. 

“Y/N, I- I’m so sorry f- for calling you. Oh my god why did I-i call you, it’s fine I can sort it,” Katie stutters between her sobs, scolding herself. Quickly moving into the hallway and away from tiny prying ears, you try to calm her. 

“Katie, dear. I need you to breathe for me so you can tell me what’s wrong, okay?” You instruct softly, you jump slightly at the light touch on your shoulder. Turning to see a frowning Ally who eyes up the phone in your hand, she mouths ‘is she okay?’. You nod reassuring her, squeezing her hand before turning my attention back to my business partner.  You hear her take a deep breath in before rushing out a very in depth story about how the business deal with Harrison and Co has fallen through and how she’s tried her best to regain their attention, even amending certain demands  on the contract but with no such luck. 

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I really tried to get them back on our side but..” 

“They want to talk to me.” You state, knowing exactly where she was going with this phone call the moment you picked up the phone. Your eyes lock with Ally’s as you watch her bite her lip, her eyes full of understanding but you know by the slight dip of her brows that she’s disappointed. Sighing tiredly you continue your conversation with Katie. 

“Are they there now?”

“Yes, they would like to discuss with you new terms. Again I’m really sorry Y/N.” She apologises, sounding like she is on the verge of tears again. You reassure her and tell her that you will be there within the hour. Ending the phone call makes you huff in frustration, the only thing helping you relax is the soft touch of your wife’s hands that cradle your face, her thumb stroking calming strokes against your cheekbones. 

“Baby I’m really sorry-” Ally shushes you softly, pecking your lips in reassurance understanding the importance of this deal. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do, baby. We’ll be here with some hot cocoa when you get back annnd my parents are excited to have Oz tonight,” She trails off suggestively, biting down on her lower lip with a quirked dark eyebrow. You match her grin, kissing her hard, appreciating her understanding nature. Wrapping your arm around her waist you pull her close and slowly make your way back into the living room, feeling your shoulders tense slightly when you see your two favourite blondes singing softly along with Jovie and Buddy. Cordelia glances over to you both noticing your tense posture and sadden eyes, due to her distraction from her duet with Oz the boy turns around curiously looking at you and Ally with his big brown eyes. 

“You okay, Mama?” He asks, his innocent voice making you melt at his concern. Moving away from Ally you round the sofa and crotch in front of the boy. 

“You remember that big business deal Mama and Aunt Katie were working on?” He nods along, remembering the many nights you and Katie would work rather late into the night, stacks of paper scattered around the kitchen table. “Well it seems the boys we were working with no longer want to and they are being a little greedy and wanting more… candy from us,” 

“That’s very greedy Mama,” He adds, agreeing with your analogy. You grin softly and you see the soft glint in Cordelia and Ally’s eyes as they sit either side of him. Brushing his messy mop of hair from his eyes you continue. 

“Yes, very greedy Ozzy. So, because the boys are being greedy, Mama needs to go and ask if the boys would like to play nice since it’s Christmas and all... I’m sorry Oz but I promise tomorrow I’ll pick you up from Grandma and Grandpa’s house and we can go down to Milton Hill and go sledging!” You promise watching as his eyes light with glee at the prospect. He sticks out his pinkie finger to you making you smile softly before proceeding to lock your larger pinkie with his sealing the deal. 

“Deal Mama! Can we ask if Jackson can come?!” He asks, his voice becoming louder with the excitement. You nod vigorously basking in his excitement and slightly relieved that you have such an understanding family. Luckily this is the first and will definitely be the last time you miss out on Christmas for work - deal or not. Reaching up to place a kiss on the crown of his head, you move over to your blonde lover, conflict still evident in your eyes, she gently grips your clothing and pulls you closer, your nose brushing softly against hers as she presses a delicate kiss to your lips. 

“Hurry up home, my love.” She whispers gently against your lips as you pull away, flustered by the intensity of her brown eyes as she eyes you lovingly. Clearing your throat you nod stumbling to your feet, as Oz giggles into Ally’s side at his blonde mothers mischief, you quickly press a gentle kiss to Ally’s temple on your way past, heading for your shared room to change. 

Once changed and with more kisses given you head out into the cold quiet afternoon ready to get your deal finalised and sealed, determined to get back to your wives before nightfall. Stepping into the car you glance briefly through the gap of the living room curtain taking in your family who are still in their matching pyjamas, wanting nothing more than to be snuggled amongst them. 

***

Stepping back through into your warm toasty home you sigh, finally relaxing. Placing the cold bottle of champagne onto the side table, you remove your coat and gloves shaking the small remanence of snow. Frowning at the quietness, you remove your boots and head for the living room taking the cold champagne bottle with you. You stop abruptly by the open door frame staring openly at your senator wife, who is currently lounged lazily over the single armchair, her legs hanging over the arm of the chair, her skin glowing a light orange from the burning fireplace beside her. A lovely shade of Christmas green lingerie on display for your eyes only, with a book in her hand she peeks over her page to take you in through hooded eyes before her eyes land on the loosely gripped bottle. 

“They accepted?!” She asks, her voice laced with excitement placing her book onto the small table stand next to her. She slowly gets up from her position and saunters over to you agonizingly slow as you both drink each other in. Your eyes darken the closer she gets, seeing how well the bra fits her breasts making them look exceptional against her chest. The contrast between the green material and her skin are undeniably pleasing, her dark brown hair that frames perfectly around her face tying up the view in front of you perfectly. Licking your lips hungrily you finally find your voice and reply. 

“They did, I thought we could celebrate.” You inform, tightening your hold around the neck of the bottle. She nods only half listening to you as she skims her fingers up your arm and towards your neck where she laces her fingers around your neck  keeping a tight hold of you actively pulling you closer to her. Brushing her lips across yours, she allows her tongue to leave a wet trail against your dry lips warming them from the bitter cold outside, you gasp at the warm touch. 

“Let me go and grab the champagne glasses, I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” She husks against your lips before sauntering away from you giving you a great view of her ass as she sways purposely. Fighting back a groan, you scan the room for any traces of your other wife knowing that the crafty witch wouldn’t be too far away from all the fun. 

“Delia is sorting out your Christmas gift, Oz left with my parents about half an hour ago,” Ally answers my non-vocal question, watching as a knowing glint shines bright in her dark eyes. You squint at the innocent expression that she gives you, knowing there’s more to her words. She chuckles lowly while taking a hold of your hand, transferring the bottle into her other arm, holding the three glasses in her hand. Your eyes darken further as you watch the curve of her ass with every step she takes leading you up the stairs. Ally stops by your shared bedroom door turning to wink at you before letting go of your hand.  

“Wait right here.” She demands, before sneaking into the bedroom shutting the door closed, leaving you no time to peek into the room that holds your Christmas gift. Not a moment later Ally comes back out, slightly breathless as you take in her blown dark pupils with a dirty grin she asks you the most important question. 

“Are you ready for your Christmas present?” She entices, coming to stand behind you placing her one hand over your eyes as the other pushes open the door, guiding you into the room you bite your lip in anticipation as you await for the darkness to unfold from your eyes so you can take in your surprise. Soft hands disappear from your eyes allowing you to open them at Ally’s soft instruction. 

Your eyes widen with lust as you take in the sight before you. Lying lazily on the bed with her back against the headboard, long blonde locks trail down over her covered breasts, is Cordelia. A short red bow tied teddy lingerie dress fits snugly around her body, the end brushing barely over the tops of her thighs as she grins straight at the pair of you, slowly bending both her knees spreading them apart given you a glimpse of her matching panties she beckons you forward with the crook of her finger. 

“Merry Christmas, Baby. Why don’t you go and unwrap your present?” Ally drawls into your ear, tracing the shell of your ear with her tongue making you shiver on the spot. You answer by removing your work clothes as quick as possible watching as Cordelia bites her lip in amusement at your enthusiasm. 

Now dressed down to only your underwear, you feel Cordelia’s heavy gaze drop to your breasts licking her lips hungrily. Before you advance forward you quickly turn and pull Ally flush against your body hearing her gasp at the sudden new position enjoying the feeling of your skin against hers, pressing a hard kiss to her lips you quickly pull back, eyeing her appreciatively. 

“As long as I get to ravish both my presents tonight,” You comment, a roguish grin appearing on your face. 

Ally giggles at your teasing demeanour before nodding biting her lip. Pressing a kiss to her neck, you turn back around and focus on your blonde wife. Keeping your eyes locked with hers you move forward slowly, taking her in from head to toe. Crawling onto your Queen sized bed you settle yourself in between her legs, placing your hands above either side of her head holding tight to the headboard. Bending down slightly you take her lips with your own in a delicate, slow kiss. Hearing her hum in satisfaction you deepened the kiss, bringing one hand down to grab hold of her breast, squeezing gently making her gasp. Her sudden gasp allows you to brush your tongue gently over hers, tangling them together as you continue to kiss sloppily. Pulling away slightly you look over your shoulder to see your brunette wife stalking around the bed, her eyes never leaving your entangled forms, you remove the hand that has found its place on Cordelia’s breast to entice her to join you. Her eyes brighten at the invitation, joining you both on the bed she lies on her side flushed against Cordelia as the blonde reaches over to capture the senators lips, the feeling of arousal settles low in your stomach at the sight beneath you. 

You move away briefly while they continue to make out, straddling Cordelia’s hip you finger the loose bowtie that keeps her breast hidden. Gently pulling at the material you watch satisfied as the bow becomes undone in front of you, revealing the swell of her breasts and perky nipples. Cordelia gasps as the cold hits her exposed chest, pulling away from Ally in the process who eyes her wife's’ breasts. With a similar thought process, you and Ally dive straight for the blondes chest taking a nipple into your mouth each and sucking delicately at the sensitive nub. Cordelia moans loudly into the lightly dimmed room, her hands instantly finding their place on top of your heads, keeping you both close as you lick and suck at the aroused nub. 

“Mmm, yes just like that.” She breathed, allowing her head to lean back against the headboard as she fidgets under you. 

You both continue to tease at the blondes chest watching as her breathing becomes more erratic, your hand skims down the side of her toned body feeling the material against your fingertips before reaching soft skin under the teddy dress. Removing yourself from her waist you settle in between her legs, your stomach pressed against her core making her rock against you harshly needing some friction as her arousal builds. You latch back onto her nipple as Ally moves to suck gently on Cordelia’s neck, her thumb brushing over the sensitive nub. Removing your mouth from her breast, you slither south pushing the material up towards her breast exposing her stomach. Placing wet kisses along her stomach you move closer to her wet spot, already smelling her arousal. Hovering close against her most needed spot you brush your nose gently against the offensive material before moving to focus on her inner thigh, nibbling softly at the skin before reaching for the panties sliding them along her toned legs wanting rid of the pair. You groan at the sight before you as you take in her already glistening pussy as she whimpers. 

“Baby, please. I need you.” She whines, before latching her lips onto Ally's, taking the brunette's bottom lip in between her teeth pulling a groan out of Ally. Satisfied with her pleads, you brush lightly over her slit with your tongue feeling her hips thrust upwards seeking firmer pressure. 

Pressing your tongue harder against her wet pussy, you continue to pleasure her with firm strokes of your tongue, collecting her arousal before latching onto her clit. You feel a second pair of legs next to you begin to fidget as Ally waits patiently for your attention. Moving your mouth away briefly, you grasp at Ally’s ankle gaining the brunettes’ attention from Cordelia’s lips. She eyes you, her gaze slightly hazy from her pleasure. 

“Lie next to Delia, baby. I told you I want to ravish both my presents tonight.” You husk, your words breathless as you eye her hungrily. Obediently, she lies comfortably next to Cordelia opening her legs slightly to allow you access. You moan at the dark wet patch against her green panties, tapping at her ankle she lifts her hips allowing you to remove her panties. Now settled, you reattach your mouth around Cordelia’s clit, as your thumb rubs firm circles over Ally’s clit watching as she withers above you. You continue to tease them with your mouth and fingers feeling them both thrust against you as they seek for more friction. Moving your thumb from Ally’s sensitive clit and your mouth from Delia’s you sit back leaning on your heels as you look down at the pair, bringing your fingers that are covered with Ally’s arousal to your lips making a show of wrapping your tongue that’s covered in Cordelia’s wet mess around your fingers watching as the pair follow your movements with their dark eyes. Placing your hands on top of Ally’s knees you gently pull her legs further apart before diving for her wet pussy, watching through hooded eyes as she throws her head back and arches her back at the touch. Cordelia whimpers at the site of her two loves, she goes to place her finger against her throbbing clit but you gently slap the hand away and take over her needs sliding your finger in between her lips, collecting her juices teasing her entrance before entering her  as your tongue continues to twirl around Ally’s throbbing clit. 

You feel your own pussy throb at the sight of your wives both coming undone by you, withering and pleading for release as you continue to pleasure them until they tighten around you feeling them clench and pulse around your tongue and fingers. Moans and groans grow louder the closer they reach their orgasm, glistening bodies coming undone before you. They both relax almost simultaneously as they allow their orgasm to wash over them. Your eyes sparkle with lust and love as you watch them catch their breaths, Cordelia’s lovely new red teddy dress crumbled and flimsy against her form. Placing one leg in between their open ones, you lean forward hovering over the pair as they look at you with hooded dark eyes. 

“Champagne?” You ask, licking at your lips hunger still evident in your eyes. They match your gaze and grin. Before they answer you squeal loudly as you feel yourself be removed from above them, Ally wraps her arm around your waist swapping your position from above them to lying against the soft mattress, your wives faces above you as they remove the remaining pieces of their clothing. 

“Drink can wait, we want to celebrate Christmas properly,” Ally's sultry voice sends shivers down your spine as you wiggle in anticipation. 

“Well then, Merry Christmas to me,” You mutter to yourself, grinning from ear to ear feeling grateful for these two goddesses that brighten your life. Christmas may have been a ridiculous holiday in the past for you but it’s true meaning has since changed since meeting these two wonderful women and your sweet blonde boy who is the beautiful mix of them both. With no more words spoken you allow the pair to worship you into the early hour, enjoying their soft touches.

[missmonsters2]

Between the Lines || IX

PAIRING: Steve Rogers & Fem!Reader (Platonic) / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Vampire AU. Life has changed drastically since the 1600s. Things are always on the move, and you’ve been very careful to not get on SHIELDs radar. Living on the down-low owning a café, you’re content to live out a quiet existence. That is until the Avengers enter your life.

[Set after the New York Invasion, in CAWS, and goes up to AoU. Canon divergent after.]

Warnings: This series will contain smut(**), poly-relationship, and dark themes.

Note: Everyone last chapter: “I’m ready for Wanda to fucking ruin me.” LMAO SAME. 

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI || PART VII || PART VIII

PART IX of XX

Count: 4782

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Antique.

That was the best way Natasha could describe your place. You had more warm colors for your walls and older styled furniture that made her feel like she was transcending time. 

They had just gotten back from visiting Allison, who was beyond ecstatic to see you and Natasha. Her mother seemed to be all better now, and no longer needed the extra care for Allison. The babysitter you had recommended last time seemed to be working just fine for them when her mother needed to pull extra shifts, but you still promised to visit Allison when you could.

"Your place is nice," Natasha smiles softly, and you turn your head around to smile back at her as you grab a cup from the cupboard. 

"Really? David says I have the taste of an old person. To my defense, I am old," you snort. 

Natasha chuckles, "I like it."

She feels a little excited because it looks like you're making coffee for her, and it feels like it's been such a long time since Natasha has had your coffee.

"Even though I've lived so long and have adapted, this style makes me feel more at home," you softly explain, and Natasha's eyes turn tender.

You finish brewing Natasha her coffee and bring it over to her. She takes a sip, sighing with bliss.

Grinning at her, you're about to say something else when your phone buzzes in your pocket. Pulling it out, you check to see that it's from David.

"We've got to head out," You tell the redhead. "David's got a lead for us."

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Your search didn't yield much more than what David could find, which was annoying. Luckily, you didn't end up having to use your gift and instead used compulsion to find information. 

Natasha trailed along, watching you work but also making herself useful when she could. 

Within two hours, you felt like you already found out what you could before heading back to shower and head off to the Stark tower again. 

When you get there, you already see David talking with Steve and Maria.

"Fatalities?" You could hear Steve ask. 

"Only when engaged," David says as he catches your eye when you enter the room. "Mostly guys left in a fugue state going on about old memories, worst fears, and something too fast to see."

"Maximoffs," Maria mutters, and you're curious about Wanda's powers. They seemed similar to Tatyana's, but you want to confirm if Wanda's powers had only come from the scepter. 

"That makes sense that he would seek them out. They have something in common," Steve said as he saw you approaching. "Find anything?" 

"No more than you did, apparently," you shrugged.

"Well," David says as he's looking at his tablet. "Nothing in common anymore." He flips the tablet and a picture of Strucker's dead body and the word 'PEACE' written in blood on the wall next to him.

"Lovely," Maria huffs. 

You see Clint on the phone just a couple feet from you, and Steve notices him too. 

"So, you're not coming home tonight even though you explicitly said you would," you here a feminine voice on the phone. 

"That's a negative," Clint says.

"This better be your last one for a while, I don't care what your boss says," you hear the woman respond. In the background, you could also hear two kids screaming, 'Is that dad? Can I talk to dad! Dad!'

"I answer to you," Clint responds almost dutifully. 

"...If you miss the birth of our child...I'll kill you..."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Barton," Steve interrupts, "We might have something."

"Gotta go," Clint says quickly before he hangs up and turns to face you all.

"Who was that?" Steve asks.

"Girlfriend," Clint's eyes travel to you and David because it was obvious he knew you had heard him.

Steve doesn't pay it any mind as he leads everyone back into the room. You and David lag behind because Clint is walking beside the two of you.

"Listen--"

"It's none of our business, Clint," you cut him off with a wave. "We didn't hear a thing."

Clint sighs and gives you a smile of thanks.

"Although, you should be more careful if you're trying to keep them a secret," David says as he tapped away on his tablet.

He then holds up his tablet to you and Clint, a photo dated two years ago of Clint and his family on a ride at Disneyland.

"This you?"

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You've known as a vampire, it's impossible to get headaches, but it doesn't stop you from feeling like you have one.

Everyone is getting ready to get out onto the Quinjet to take off to the next location to find Ulysses Klaue as you'll be likely to find Ultron and the twins there. 

There isn't much for you to ever prepare for, so you laze around in the kitchen before Natasha strolls in, the first to finish.

"Hey, you," she smiles, and you walk over to her.

"Hey, yourself," you smile as you inspect her suit. "Got everything?"

"Hopefully," Natasha shrugs.

You know you'll most likely meet Wanda soon, and something inside you tells you it'll bring chaos. 

Nothing ever truly feels like it's over, but you have Natasha. 

You look at her with slow eyes.

Sometimes it feels wrong to be this happy with Natasha, to allow yourself that kind of privilege. But there are no words you could use to describe what Natasha is to you and how you crave her. 

Natasha peers through her lashes, catching the look in your eyes. She walks backward, pulling you with her until she hits the counter before she hops herself up onto it. Pulling you closer by the collar of your shirt, you end up between her legs, your hands automatically around her waist while hers are around your neck.

"When you have that look on your face, it makes me want to just...eat you," Natasha licks her lip, and you can't help but laugh lightly as she traces her thumb over your bottom lip. 

"You know how funny that sounds, right?" You smile.

Natasha merely smirks as she lowers her head to press her lips against yours in a soft kiss.

She tastes like remnants of peach candy, and you hum into her mouth. Licking her bottom lip, you hold her hips tighter.

Good.

She smells good.

Like vanilla and dry leaves. 

You bite her bottom lip gently, appreciating the way she moans lightly. It seems to excite her more as her heart pounds in her chest. You pull away, lowering your head as the tip of your nose drags against her side of her neck. 

You inhale as Natasha holds your neck a little tighter.

You could hear it, smell, the blood rushing through Natasha's veins.

It would be so easy.

Natasha would be delicious, you just know it. Her blood hits every part of your sensories, and she would feel so good.

Your teeth drag lightly where your tongue had been.

'You can't.'

The voice and words ring in your head loud and clear. 

Immediately, you pull away, almost panting as you do. 

Natasha calls your name, but you shake your head.

"I just need a moment," you tell her, taking in a deep breath.

You haven't felt this way in so long, you felt like a child experiencing bloodlust again. 

It had been so easy throughout the years to control it, knowing the consequences if you did it.

Yet, having Natasha tested every limit you had again. 

You never thought you would ever experiencing wanting to drink from someone again. 

"I'm sorry," Natasha says hesitantly. She had been so caught up in the moment, and you felt so good. 

For a moment...she...she wanted you to bite her.

You clear your throat as your head clears again.

"Don't apologize," you give her a tight smile, "I should have better control."

Natasha is about to say something else when you help her down from the counter.

"C'mon," you say as you pull her along, "we should head to the Quinjet."

And Natasha's words die on her tongue. 

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"Don't compare me with Stark! He's a sickness!"

You all come in time just as Ultron has sliced off Klaue's arm as he rants about Tony. 

"Ahh, junior," Tony appears with Thor and Steve behind him. "You're gonna break your old man's heart."

"If I have to," Ultron tilts his head.

"Daddy issues, am I right?" You lean over to David to say, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

"He's not a villain without one," David says back.

You hear a laugh disguised as a cough from Pietro. He smirks at you, and you give him a slight quirk of your lip back. 

But then your eyes travel next to him.

It hits you in the gut. 

A million flashbacks happen to you, and you feel like someone just knocked all the air out of your body, and you're breathless. It's like you're going through a spiral of vertigo until you look her in the eyes.

She looks like her. 

You were prepared to see the similarities, but this was more than you had expected. 

But you knew it was not Tatyana.

You blinked, eyes focusing on Wanda. 

She was staring at you too, but she didn't seem sure of what to make of it.

"You two can still walk away from this," Steve's voice interrupts the two of you.

"Oh, we will," Wanda rips her gaze from you, tilting her head as she smirks sardonically at Steve.

"I know you've suffered," Steve acknowledges, and for a second, you see rage flash through Wanda's eyes because while Steve knows, he doesn't truly know what they've been through.

Ultron lets out a groan of disgust. "Captain America," he says with a certain tone to his voice. "God's righteous man, pretending you could live without a war."

"I can't physically throw up in my mouth, but..." Ultron tilts his head, looking at Steve.

Thor tries to urge Ultron to keep the peace, but Ultron obviously declines.

"What's the vibranium for?" Tony asks.

Ultron looks as giddy as he can. "I'm glad you asked since I wanted to take this time to reveal my evil plan!"

Suddenly, Iron Legion Bots break through the glass and start attacking. 

You and David have split up, he's taken off after Pietro and you to find Wanda. 

Taking out Klaue's men along the way, you keep walking in the direction you could hear her in. 

Her footsteps were rather light, and she had a distinct smell of cinnamon and orange blossoms. 

"Thor! Status!" Steve yelled into the earpiece.

"The girl tried to warp my mind. Take special care, I doubt a human could keep her at bay. Fortunately, I am mighty," Thor trailed off.

You knew immediately what was happening. 

"Nat," you called worriedly.

"I'm fine," she reassures you. 

"David?" You called next.

"Still good," he grumbles. "Fast little bastard."

"Wait," David calls. "She's got Natasha and Steve in a hallucination."

You're about to turn around immediately to go back to Natasha, but David stops you.

"Don't," he warns. "Nat's still okay, just caught up in whatever she's seeing. If you want to put an end to it, catch the girl."

You grit your teeth but huff in agreement. 

You stand along the empty hallway, breaking the wrist of a man who tries to charge at you. Flinging him over the railing, he lands on sacks of dirt and groans. 

It seems you don't have to go to Wanda because you hear those light footsteps behind you, creeping up.

She stands behind you, unknowing you can hear her heart beating as she raises her hand, tendrils forming at her fingers.

You turn around abruptly, grabbing her wrist. Faced with Wanda's shock widened eyes, you quirk your lip at her. 

"Cute," you tell her, "but it won't work on me."

"And why is that?" Wanda asks accent heavy in her voice that sounds so familiar to you.

"To control--compel, me to what you want, your will has to be stronger than mine," you tell her, pulling her closer by her wrist to show that even as close as she was, she couldn't use her mind control on you. "So? Do you still think you can play your little mind games on me?"

Maybe you had tugged too hard, but now Wanda was too close. Her eyes staring into yours as if she was searching for something. Lips slightly parted, you could feel her breath on you. 

"Why?" Wanda murmurs as she tilts her head slightly at you.

"Why what?" You return.

"Why do you stare at me like that?" Wanda gets closer.

You should pull away. Disarm her, and go secure Pietro to finish the mission. 

But it feels like there's an electric pulse in the air that seems to keep you rooted.

"Stare at you like what?" You husk.

Wanda licks her lips, drawings your eyes. "Stare at me like you want to save me."

"You're helping a homicidal robotic manic who wants to destroy the world," you quirk your brow at her. "I think that warrants needing to be saved or at least some sense beaten into you."

"He will save the world by putting an end of the Avengers," Wanda hisses. She draws forth the red wisps again in her other hand, holding it close to you. "Perhaps I can't 'play my little mind games' with you. But power is power."

Immediately, you feel Wanda's power surround your body before she uses it to force you through the window. You find yourself staring at the sky, blinking as you fall. 

You swiftly turn around, positioning yourself upright as you land on the ground, creating a good-sized crater. There's a momentary crack in your ankles from the pressure and height you fell from, but as quick as it happens, it heals. 

You look up, shards of glass falling around you, and you sigh.

It seems your suspicions were correct, that Wanda's powers were genuine. The feel of it was too raw and similar to Tatyana's.

And that made things complicated. 

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"Hey, hey, look at me," you coo as you hold Natasha's face in your hands, turning her to look at you. Her eyes are unfocused, and honestly, it's a little challenging to get her to actually look at you. 

You had arrived shortly back into the facility after hearing Clint saying they needed to move. Clint had been trying to shake Natasha out of it, but it wasn't working, and so you stepped in.

"I have no place in the world," Natasha mutters. 

You had a pretty good guess about what she was seeing, and so did Clint.

"How do we get her out? Do we just have to wait?" Clint asked you.

"No," you say, stroking Natasha's cheek, tilting her face up as you look down into her eyes. "We overpower it."

Your pupils explode into liquid pools, swirling as you forced Natasha's to do the same. It would take a little longer, with Natasha not even being lucid. 

"Look at me," you tell her softly. Natasha blinks. "Wherever you are, it's not real."

You start to see flickers of speckles in Natasha's eyes and lick your lips.

"Come back to me," you compel her softly but with a slight bite in your tone. "You have a place in the world. Here, as an Avengers, with Clint and everyone else." The fog is clearing from Natasha's mind, your eyes responding more to yours and your words. 

"With me," you faintly say.

"Come back."

Life comes back to Natasha, her eyes no longer dull as she comes face to face with you. She's got a massive headache and slight nausea.

Natasha swallows as you still hold her face in your hands. She wants to say something, but Tony interrupts. 

"Guys, I could really use some help. Maybe try the lullaby again?"

You look at Natasha, but she's in no shape to try to go against the Hulk.

"The rest of the team is down," Clint responds.

You look around to see David trying to get Steve out of his hallucination. 

"David will handle things here. Get everyone back onto the jet. The twins and Ultron are probably long gone by now. I'm going to help Tony."

You look once more at Natasha, who lifts the corner of her mouth.

"Be careful," she tells you.

"Aren't I always?" Giving her a wink, you take off in a blur.

"Coordinates, Stark," you say into your earpiece. 

"Getting my ass beat right now!" Tony groans.

"Coordinates, Stark, not status. I already know you're getting your ass beat," you smirk.

"Don't be a dick," he mutters, but you're unsure if that was to you or Banner. He tells you where to meet him, but it gets easier to figure out as you get closer, and you can hear glass and building being shattered, and Banner's roars along with civilian screams.

You pick up speed, reaching there as you stand a few feet away, and Tony spots you.

"What's the plan?" Tony asks.

"Get him away from the city. Damage's been done, but we should try to stop him from doing any more," you see Tony struggling to hold him down. His suit is bulked up, and you're sure he prepared this specifically for Banner.

"Where do we bring him?" Tony's punching Banner in the face, trying to get him to 'go to sleep.'

"Few miles from the Quinjet. There should be some open space."

"Alright," Tony says, having no other choice but to trust you.

He gets VERONICA to send in a new Hulkbuster arm, using it to suction in the Hulk's arm as they take to the skies. You start to run in the same direction they're going.

"Alright, what do we do after we get him in the area?" Tony's overworking the jets in his feet while the Hulk struggles to get the upper hand in the air.

"Can you trap him in his spot?"

"I have one extra set electric bars, but he dug a hole in the ground to escape it."

"Just set them in the ground, wide berth and electrodes on."

You enter into a clearing, and Tony drops Banner, breaking the ground as he lands. 

Immediately, giant plates dig into the earth, surrounding Banner as he gets electrified. He screams, arching his back before he turns and snarls at you.

"You gonna try this compulsion thing?" Tony asks through his mask.

"Try being a keyword," you mutter, "I have a feeling he's not going to be receptive towards it."

"Is anyone receptive towards compulsion, really?" Tony grumbles.

"Yeah," you smirk, "humans."

You walk around the perimeter of the plates, and the Hulk turns his body as his eyes follow you.

"You're angry," you acknowledge. "She made you angry."

The Hulk only roars and glares at you, the surrounding area of his eyes were red. 

You lock eyes, pupils expanding as you try to reel him in. 

"But look around you, think if there's anything right now to be angry about," you say to him. His head moves side to side, but you can tell the Hulk is fighting it. "Are you really angry, or did she just tell you you're angry? Who are you outraged at? The civilians who've done nothing to you? Tony? Me?"

You kept circling, keeping your eyes locked on his. 

"Yourself?" You asked, and when the Hulk lets out an enraged yowl, you know you've hit the spot.

"You need to calm down," you lick your lips. "Before you do something that will really make you angry with yourself."

The Hulk is huffing and puffing as he continues to stare at you, and you try to expand the compulsion stronger. 

For a second, you think it's working. The Hulk is shaking his head, stumbling backward.

But as quick as that happens, suddenly he punches himself in the face, knocking himself out of your control before he lets out another bellowing scream. 

He starts running even as the plates send out electric shocks, bombarding through one of them as it breaks. 

"He's too ravaged for me to even try to influence him to calm down," you tell Tony quickly as you take off towards the Hulk.

"I think I got that," Tony has to move out of the way before the Hulk steamrolls him. 

"New plan," you say, running towards Tony.

"What are you--" he starts to say, but you cut him off.

"Throw me onto his back!" You leap, forcing Tony to catch you as he spins around once before whipping you in the direction the Hulk took off in. 

The speed propelled you straight towards him, he didn't even see it coming as he was approaching the Quinjet. Everyone had come outside, hearing his thundering footsteps as he ran in their direction.

You latched onto his back, wrapping your tiny arms the best you could around his neck with crushing force, almost enough to snap his windpipe. 

He chokes, feet digging into the ground as he abruptly stopped. His hand comes up to your arm, and you only have a second before he forces you to release him via breaking your arm. 

You open your mouth, teeth sharp as venom pooled to them before you dug it into his neck. 

He was grumbling at you before, but he was definitely screaming at you now. 

The sound of agonizing wails leaves his mouth as he falls to his knees. You let go of his neck. 

Falling forward, the Hulk writhes in pain, and you could see the venom traveling in his veins as they turned a dark green on his skin. He was crawling as he groaned.

Soon, the venom overtook his system to the point Banner began to change back to a man. He lay there, moaning in pain as Tony came forward along with Clint, who threw a blanket over him.

"What did you do?" Tony asked, and David came out, blurring over to carry Bruce into the Quinjet.

"Forced him to change back," you mutter as you also got onto the Quinjet. 

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David put Banner on a makeshift bed while Clint flew the Quinjet out of the area. 

Bruce was thrusting off the table as he still writhed in pain while everyone else stood around.

"What's happening to him?" Steve asked. He was covered in dirt and grime, and he looked a little defeated.

"The venom is breaking his cells down," you say, eyes drifting to David, who nods, restraining Bruce down.

You could hear more questions being fired, but you didn't answer. You threw the blanket off of Bruce, and everyone could see his veins, dark and poisoned-looking.

Leaning over, you began to bite him various places until the discoloration in his veins began to disappear. The seizing slowed down in Bruce as he came to a restful stop, but beads of sweat ran down his forehead. He was still breathing heavily, and his eyes remained closed.

"He's going to have to sleep that off," you spitting out blood into a nearby bucket, and wiping your mouth. David hands you a bottle of water, which you use to rinse your mouth, spitting it out until your mouth was clear.

Natasha comes up to check on you, putting her hand on your back softly as you try to give her a smile that ends up being more of a grimace.

"What was that?" Tony asked as he inspected his friend.

"I told you," you say as Natasha gives you some gum. "Venom can be used in three ways. That was one of them."

"But what does it do," Tony emphasized.

The mint flavor spread throughout your mouth, and you were thankful for a change in taste. Lately, it's been getting harder to control your thirst.

"When venom is used to harm, it attacks the cells in your body. Specifically, it makes them explode. It's painful as it travels through your veins because it's basically shredding everything in its path as it moves. The more venom you inject, the faster the deterioration goes," you say. 

"Why did you bite him again?" Steve asks. 

"There's only one way to reverse it," you peer over to Bruce's sleeping form. "Only the venom of the vampire who inflicted it can undo it. I injected the healing venom to counteract it. He'll be fine, maybe just a couple scars, and feeling sore for a few days."

"We need to lay low while we can," David interrupts as he looks at his tablet.

"That's a great idea," you hear Maria chime in through the intercoms. "The new is loving you guys. No one else is. There's no official arrest warrant for Banner, but it's up in the air."

"Stark Relief Foundation?" Tony asks.

"Already on scene. How's everyone?" She replies.

"We took a hit, they're shaking it off right now," you mutter.

"Well, stay in stealth mode for now, and don't come back here," Maria warned,  knowing it would be ugly.

"So, run and hide?" Tony seems displeased.

"Until we find Ultron, there are not many options on the table," Maria sighed, disconnecting after that. 

Tony goes over to Clint, slapping his hand on Clint's shoulder. "Need to switch out?"

Clint shakes his head, "Nah, I'm good. If you wanna get some kip, now would be the time, we're still a couple hours out."

You look over to Clint, noticing the dark bags under his eyes, and for the first time, you see how tired he must be.

"A couple hours from where?" Tony asks.

"A safe house," Clint answers, looking at you and David, and you know immediately where he's taking you.

You turn to Natasha, and it seems she knows as well.

Taking the time to sit near the back, you hold your girlfriend in your arms, stroking the side of her arms. Natasha's worn, you can tell by the paleness in her skin, and she's upset. 

You sit in silence for a good chunk of the time. As much as you hate it, the image of Wanda doesn't leave your mind. There was something that brewed deep within you, and you felt haunted. 

It isn't until Natasha decides to speak and breaks your thoughts.

"I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't gotten me out of that hallucination," Natasha says quietly to avoid drawing the attention of the others, but now used with David unintentionally being able to listen.

"I wish I could've been there sooner," you say at the same level of quietness, but Natasha shakes her head. 

"Sometimes," she starts, licking her dry lips, "it's so easy to live every day like that part of my life didn't happen. Even though it's my sole reason to do the things I do. I want to clear my ledger, but it's..."

"It's complicated," you finish for her when she drags.

It's silent for a few minutes as the two of you rest, you lean your head on top of Natasha's, breathing slowly as you try to comfort her.

"I had never thought about wanting kids," Natasha starts quietly again, and you hum softly in the back of your throat to tell her you're listening. 

"I'm not even really sure that I do or not, but then I get reminded that I can't either way."

You hold her bicep tighter, turning your head to press a kiss to her head.

"It's okay to mourn the loss of the choice," you murmur. 

Natasha nudges herself closer to you, inhaling your scent as it eases her. The images don't quite go away. They linger in her mind, a wretched memory of everything she's endured. 

"I suppose it's easier," Natasha mumbles. "It's one less thing to worry about, one less thing that would matter more than a mission. It makes everything easier, even killing."

"Don't do that," you admonish her gently. "While those things can be true, don't make yourself out to be a monster."

Natasha remains quiet, not the kind where she doesn't believe you, but the kind where she doesn't quite have the right words to say for once.

"You act like you don't already have things that would matter more than a mission, things that you don't worry about," you lift your other hand up, using your fingers to tilt her chin until she's facing you. 

Your lips are so close, the warmth vibrating between the two of you. 

"Because you already do, don't you?" You murmur. "Everyone on this ship is your family--I'm your family, just as you are mine."

PART X

[mammons-tax-returns]

"for one muse to kiss the other's scar" w satan pls? 👉🏻👈🏻

masterlist / 600+ followers event

Thank you for your request, anon! No pronouns were specified so I hope you don’t mind masc mc :’)

I kept getting scared that this was getting too lengthy (i have a short ass attention span so ik i cant read long stuff LMAO) so I redid a bunch of parts, i hope it’s not too apparent!

✖️MALE MC✖️

Anything with history is an eye-catcher to Satan.

Just like a good novel, things with meaning and origins deeper than surface level are so much more enjoyable and genuine than things that simply are there. Who says an Avatar of Wrath can’t be poetic?

But it’s often that things with such overwhelming sentiment that Satan feels become an eye sore much quicker than anything else. Some things of personal importance are meant to be remembered, but not belabored to the point of ruin.

He is forced to face this fact today when Lucifer pushes a boundary that may not have even existed before. At any rate, it does now. Skipping past the point of negotiation entirely, Satan now finds himself pacing his room, cursing his brothers name under his hissing breath.

MC patiently watches as Satan goes through his breathing exercises on his own, knowing that if Satan has learned to calm down on his own before, he can do it again. Just being in his room with him is enough.

On the other hand, Satan isn’t too keen on that idea.

Things have become enstranged between him and Lucifer— Even more so. At this point, it’s hard to tell that MC’s help had brought them any closer at all.

The recent fights and arguments continuously end in Satan peering at the long, winding scar wrapping around his wrist and forearm like a ravenous snake. Just its faded presence is enough to make him conflicted.

He received this scar long ago, at least thousands of years ago. From a day that Lucifer got a bit too close to Satan when he was angry.

Maybe that was the day that set the precedent. The precedent that stated that no matter how smart or calm he presents, there will always be some turmoil within him brewing like a storm.

The disappointment and weariness that shows in his own family’s faces when he gets worked up is so evident he wishes he could be anyone else than who he is. Even if just for a day. But isn’t it unfair to only expect chaos from him? Certainly he’s been doing better to keep his anger in check... Right?

Besides... It’s just his nature to be angry. So, maybe... No, he still is held accountable for his actions. He definitely should just—

“Satan? Are you... Are you okay?” MC quietly calls his name from his bed. Perhaps he should have called Satan’s name a little earlier? The demon stood staring at his clothed arm in absolute silence for a number of minutes until now.

Satan’s eyes open a little wider. “Huh..? Oh, I’m sorry. I must have spaced out... How uncharacteristic of me.” He can’t find it in himself to smile, and instead uses his left hand to hold onto his scarred forearm, pushing it aside in hopes to shake off his intrusive thoughts.

“Moreover... I feel like I have calmed down significantly. Thank you for being here MC, but perhaps you’ve been bored out of your mind here.” He gives a firm smile and quickly looks away. “You may leave if you’d like.”

MC doesn’t quite listen to his offer. Satan seemed more tensed than normal when he would have “calmed down”. If he were a danger to be around at that moment, he would have said so, anyways. And if there was any chance of being able to help him before he does something risky, MC would take it.

“Well... It wouldn’t hurt to stay just a bit more, would it?” MC gave him a small smile, in which Satan seemed to become a bit flustered upon seeing.

Satan wonders how to respond. MC was right. And it may just hurt more if Satan is alone with his thoughts. “Oh, MC.” He sighs with unsaid appreciation, then makes his way into bed beside the human, who is still sitting on the edge. “Sometimes I wonder who truly are the angels of the exchange program.”

MC giggles, rolling over so that the two males lay side by side. “I’m no angel, but humans aren’t so bad... Occasionally.”

Satan smiles to let him know that the response was well received. Lord knows how grim his expression was while he was subconsciously considering his past just moments ago.

“But, that aside...” MC turns his head to look at the blonde. “What’s wrong, Satan? I’m not forcing anything out, but I’m thinking I should start to worry.”

Satan could almost laugh at those words. Worry? For him? A demon who embodies fury and unrelenting rage? It’s... A little odd to picture.

“Hmph. Well... Now that I have to put it in words, it seems a bit silly when it really shouldn’t be...”

MC raised a brow. “Based off of how you were glaring at your hands earlier, I doubt that this is about it being silly, and more about you trying to downplay it. But I’d say that’s a rather common coping mechanism.”

Satan felt as if he were see through. A mere glass pane. How could someone see into his mind so well? He had barely gotten into his explanation at all. “Er. I guess you could say that...

“It would appear that the tension... Between Lucifer and I has caused some rather distasteful memories to surface.” Satan mumbles the words as if they would reflect his character poorly. As if they were something to be ashamed of.

MC picks up on this, and a frown deepens his features. “Satan...” He pauses to think about what to say next, “You see, this is the part where I have no idea what to add because you guys have thousands of years of age on me.”

Satan ruffles the male’s hair when he sees the small pout on his lips. “You’ll come to learn that most demons are petty, shallow creatures with personalities about as deep as a puddle,”

Coming to a stop, the Avater of Wrath subconsciously began to pull up his sleeve to reveal the very edge of his scar. However, he hesitates, and his throat tightens just barely.

What in the hell was he doing?

“...” MC can’t look away from Satan’s hands, and it seems that time has stopped for a moment. Even the air that previously entered and exited MC’s nose seized.

Satan suddenly relaxes. It’s just MC. A human that knows all too well that this household could be dangerous and frightening. So he continues to pull up the bit of cloth covering peach skin.

“And sometimes, we tend to give into vainglorious temptations that only end up hurting someone, or everyone.” Satan finishes, voice barely breaking the border between a whisper and mutter. “I suppose I could have gone about pushing Lucifer’s buttons in a smarter way... But I didn’t, unfortunately. So I’m left with this loving scar from my brother.”

MC supresses a gasp, and gently takes hold of Satan’s arm. “It looks like it was super deep... I’m sorry this happened to you Satan.”

Satan watches MC trail his fingers calmingly along the edge of his river-like line along his arm. He rotates his forearm so that he can follow its path all around his arm.

“I appreciate that, MC... But I’m ‘over it’, for lack of better words. You see here, the scars actually make the silhouette of a cat on the untouched skin. It’s rather cute.”

MC laughs at the revelation. It was cute. But as much as he could admire Satan’s turning of an unfortunate event into a moment of entertainment for the two of them, he couldn’t ignore the weary look on Satan’s face.

“Awh... That’s adorable.” MC lightly mocks a babyish tone, and rubs his finger on the head of this imaginary feline. “It’s like a mini Satan cat.” He feels Satan’s shoulder move as he chuckles breathily.

“I value your adoration for my unsightly skin, MC. But if you’re so affectionate to this mere imagery of ‘mini Satan’ , perhaps you could spare a moment or two paying more attention to me.” He’s not sure if Satan means to sound dismayed rather than playful, even through the smile on his lips.

So he decides to gently grab onto Satan’s arm and press his lips against the indented skin on his forearm.

“M-MC-..!” Satan jumps, free hand freezing mid-air. His body heat is rising, and he’s sure MC can feel it.

“You’d better not be talking about Mini Satan like that, Satan.” MC mumbles against his skin. “He’s not unsightly. He’s wonderful and handsome, just like you.”

Satan can’t find a way to respond. Was he supposed to feel his heart squeeze? This seemed too menial of a response from MC for his heart to be racing like this. He simply smiles and shakes his head helplessly.

“Thank you, MC...” He lets out the breath he had been holding in.

Perhaps he could afford to be transparent every once in a while.

[kurinoot]

[day 2] two tempting bentos | ushijima wakatoshi

-> being the manager of a powerhouse school sure adds pressure, but you’re there to prove to them that you are the right person for the job, especially to a certain well-known ace

pairing: ushijima x reader

themes: fluff, manager!y/n, neither one of them has feelings for each other (yet!), continuation on white day special, slow burn (?)

word count: 2256 words

author’s note: sorry if I had to post this one late, as my dysmenorrhea was keeping me from working well (+ a bit of writer’s block) and I had to had this one proofread lol :( I hope you enjoy this one and drop any comments (and constructive ones) if you have one! also, thank you for a couple members of the hq discord server (I don’t know their un :() who willingly beta-ed (if that’s even a word lmao) this one.

Thankfully, it was already lunch time, as the grumbling of your empty stomach finally prompts you to walk to the school cafeteria. On the way, you unconsciously pat your stomach as you finally feel the reverberations and the consequence of the lack of breakfast for today. As soon as you arrive, you immediately take notice of two familiar figures on a nearby table. One of them is already waving at you like one of those wacky inflatable tubes that you closely associate him with, which brings a growing smile on your face.

“Ah L/N-chan! Wanna come sit with us?” Tendou giddily invites you and ushers you to the vacant space beside him, which you replied with an eager nod, sitting beside him.  With Ushijima sitting in front of both of you, you took notice of him who seems to be occupied with drawing something, which piques your interest.

“I never knew you could draw, Ushijima-san!”, you initiated, surprised.

“Yeah. I drew quite frequently as a child,” he replies with his usual deep voice, looking stoic with eyes and hands still occupied with the drawing. Somewhat mesmerized by the sight and view of the ace drawing, you kept watching as it slowly unraveled before your eyes, seemingly forgetting that you haven’t eaten even a single bite of food throughout the day.

Tendou sardonically interrupts, “Manager-chan, you better eat if you don’t want to keep your stomach from waiting!”, which cuts your train of thought (and apparently your daunting stare at Ushijima’s drawing). He ushers a tray of his remaining food to your direction, to which you thank him for, albeit the embarrassment of not being able to bring your own lunch for the day. You quickly fold your hands and utter an “Itadakimasu!” before you began ravishing the remaining food, much to the pair’s dismay.

“So L/N-chan!”

“Hmm?”, you hum in reply; your mouth still chewing on the food you’re eating.

Tendou then inclines himself onto the table, with his chin resting on the back of his hands and smirking with narrowed eyes at your direction, “Have you made preparations for today’s training?”.

You almost choke on your food, with eyes bulging the moment he reminds you of your managerial duties as Tendou knowingly cackles in response. Ushijima however, despite the playful banter happening in front of him, was still focused on finishing his artwork, much to your chagrin and much to Tendou’s entertainment (despite getting used to it). 

“If you are only playing around as a manager, then you do not deserve to be our manager”

Both you and Tendou stop, with both of your attention drawing to Ushijima, who has now stopped scribbling and is now looking at the both of you, particularly you.

You blankly stare at him in shock, somewhat speechless, “”E-Eh?”.

“You need to stop fooling around and do your duties as our manager.”

Tendou, who seems to feel a little bit of unnecessary tension between you and the captain, can only look consecutively between you and him. He tries his best to somewhat support you by putting both of his hands on your tired shoulders, to no avail. He tries to casually interject, “Wakatoshi-kun! L/N-chan probably just hasn’t rested well today!”

“Besides”, you start, prompting the two boys to look at your direction.

“Everybody makes mistakes, and it’s not like I haven’t done my job properly!”, you end as you seek to prove the ace wrong and to show that you have been doing well as the manager of a powerhouse school for the past two years. With that said, Ushijima scornfully looks at you as he resorts back, choosing not to retort back as to not attract unnecessary attention.

The entirety of the conversation has somehow left an air of slight tension between you two, as a pregnant pause engulfs your table afterwards. What started out as a casual lunch had ended in unnecessary tension and silence. Tendou can only do so much as he tries to break the ice to try and stop the tension from developing into something worse.

“Oi, oi! See you later! Good luck with that, Wakatoshi-kun”, he exclaims, gun pointing at his best friend whose only response was a deep, guttural hum. He then glances at you. Still dazed from the events earlier, you did not get what Tendou meant as he winked at you knowingly before he wiggled himself out of the cafeteria, leaving you alone with Ushijima.

“Look, if you’re not doing well, how are you supposed to do your duties?”, Ushijima reminds you as he starts cleaning up his things to prepare for the next class as well as for the training later on. Speechless and dazed, you can only nod in response as he calmly leaves the table, leaving you alone clenching your fist and thinking.

I’m going to do my job and I’m going to prove him wrong!

After a couple of days did you only realize that it’s already Valentines’ season and you know how much your friends are endlessly talking about making chocolates to give to their crushes as well as the girls in your class. You have been thinking for a while now of what to give the team as a gift just to celebrate the day in your own way as well as show your love to the boys. Then it got your mind reeling of numerous gift ideas.

“Y/N! Lunch is ready!”, you hear your mother call you from downstairs.

That’s it! I’ll prepare bento for them!, you thought out immediately, somehow thanking your mother in silence for giving you an idea in the right moment. You then blast out of your room with excitement, rushing downstairs to eat as well as ask for your mom’s guidance for your Valentines’ gift for the boys.

After a couple of attempts later, you were at least finally able to create a decent onigiri that brought you tears of joy, as you finally feel the worth of God-knows-how-many attempts. Your mother, who has been guiding you, clapped her hands in happiness as she shares the same sentiment.

A few days later, as it approaches Valentines’ Day, you decide to bring them each an onigiri as well as freshly-brewed tea to at least help them rejuvenate after training (and because you believed that it’s best to prove your worth as a manager).

Classes have just ended, so you gently pick up the onigiris that you’ve made as well as a big thermos of warm tea as well as the reusable cups and then make your way to the gym. To no surprise, you see Ushijima, who has already changed into his training uniform, already warming up while waiting for the others. He seems to notice your presence as he hears the shuffling sound of a plastic bag as well as the rattling of the cups. You continuously walk towards the nearby bench where Coach Washijo was already waiting, who then sees the food and drink you’re carrying.

“Ah, I’ve made some food and tea for them after!”, you say the moment you saw the coach’s eyes went to the food and thermos. Washijo only smiles at your outburst, somehow seeing your intent as the manager.

Meanwhile, you unknowingly feel Ushijima’s stare at you as you feel a sharp shiver in your spine and a sudden flutter and racing in your heart beat, which was somehow an entirely new feeling for you. Only then you turned around and saw the ace staring at you, with intentions somehow unclear to you.

I must be palpitating, I think, you thought to yourself, dismissing the fluttering feeling in your heart. You have already made sure that your main priority as the manager is to only do your duties to support the boys and nothing more beyond that. 

You dismiss everything and you just went back to your daily managerial routine, setting aside the food and tea you prepared as well as helping to mop the floor free from sweat and all.

After the training, you immediately bring up the bag of onigiri that you’ve made, which caught the attention of the other members, Goshiki in particular.

“”Woah! L/N-senpai brought us food!”, the budding ace exclaims as he quickly grabs his share of the food from your hands. You then distribute the other onigiris to the others, up until there are two pieces left. A smiling Tendou and a stoic Ushijima then walk towards you, with you already giving them the remaining food, to which they accept.

With that, you then start preparing the cups, pouring each with warm tea and giving it to each of the members. While pouring another one, you hear Tendou and Ushijima talking while they’re munching, somehow leaving you eavesdropping on the two.

“So how does it taste, Wakatoshi-kun?” Tendou asks his friend as he munches into his own food, to which his stoic friend bluntly replies with “It’s not good”, leaving you disappointed which made Tendou cackle in amusement.

The alarm of your phone rang early in the morning, prompting you to wake up, slightly scrubbing your eyes, and check your phone.

It’s already Valentines’ Day.

You already know that it might initially cause a stir within some of the boys, as Valentines is often seen as gift-giving only for intimate purposes, but you wanted to show how much you love them as your manager as well as be able to show your support for them, and you felt that preparing them bentos would be the best way to showcase it.

You were glad to wake up early, as you were able to prepare each bento just in time for you to prepare yourself for school. You smile in accomplishment as you comb your hair to finish organizing yourself before you go to school.

“Are you sure you can carry them?”, your mother asks with concern, especially after seeing your effort in making a bunch of them.

You sigh in assurance, “Mom, I’m the manager of a powerhouse school. I can do this!”.

After class has ended, you immediately went straight to the gym to prepare for today’s training as well as prepare the bentos for the boys. To your surprise, even the early bird Ushijima was not yet there, which gave you more time to prepare and even rest before they arrived.

A few minutes later, the team has scrambled together into the gym, only to find you napping on the bench. Everyone slowly steps closer to you except Ushijima, who only stood still, hoping to not disturb your nap. Up until the rest of the team noticed what seemed to be bento boxes stacked together did they stop for a while and took interest in it.

Semi somehow gets ahold of one of the boxes, “Eh? They’re bento boxes.”, he hushes. He then examined the one he’s holding when he noticed a sticky note attached on the top. He reads, “Happy Valentines’ Day, Semi-san! With love, L/N-san”.

Initially, the team took it as a sign of confession, as they have knowledge of the special day today. Only did they find something else when Goshiki sees another box with the same sticky note message attached to it, only this time it belonged to him.

“L/N-san’s giving us Valentines’ bento?!”, Goshiki finally realizes, as the other members of the team finally went to check and see theirs. Tendou, in particular, laughs at the thought, not before he finds his designated box with the same sticky note message, immediately taking interest in it. 

Ushijima, who notices the silent onslaught on the bento boxes, finally decides to step forward. Tendou, who has become immersed in his own box, sees his best friend approach and then decides to pick up his box and then gives it to him.

“Here’s yours, Wakatoshi-kun!”, Tendou stirred as he hands out Ushijima’s designated bento box, or boxes rather. Ushijima accepts it, and right off the bat he notices the yellow sticky note attached with his name on it along with a mandatory ‘Happy Valentines Day!’ as well as your name. He gently opens the warm box and goes to see tamagoyaki and sausage octopuses on the side, and much to his internal delight, was a bed of Hayashi rice sitting nicely on the large portion of the box. He then goes to check the other box underneath to see a mix of steamed vegetables and a couple of pieces of sushi beside it.

Everyone was so immersed in their own bento box that they did not notice you waking up from your light slumber, and much to your shock, you wake up to see them already eating with happy smiles on their faces. Only then did they notice you awake when they hear you move from the bench.

“So, do you guys like it?”, you shyly asked whilst rubbing your eyes from your light slumber, only to find the entire team facing you with serious faces after scrubbing. Goshiki, the ever enthusiastic budding ace, praises you, “We love it, L/N-san!”.

You look around to see everyone eating their own lunches, and much to your shock, you actually see Ushijima eating the food and immersing himself in the bento boxes that you made for him. Somehow, Tendou looks at the both of you in amusement, taking note of the prior events. He then internally smirks on the possible development that is happening before his eyes.

Happy ‘Valentines’ Day, indeed, he thinks as he continues munching on his bento.

back to valentines’ masterlist

[tobiosmilktea]

casual catastrophes — sakusa kiyoomi

2.6k words | genre/s: uni!au, fluff | warning/s: kinda nsfw (i tried lol) | pairing: sakusa x f!reader

↪︎ in which his jealous actions spoke louder than his words

a/n: request for @study-milk, sorry for the long wait! i still hope you enjoy it overall

also i cant write smut for shit so i turned it into something poetic instead LMAO like honestly i have no idea how people write this so casually i couldn’t stop laughing the entire time

you were an untamed disarray in the morning. you looked at the world through a lens of thunderous fatigue as you finally managed to get some sleep in the past couple of days of nonstop assignments and projects. you loathed the hour at which you were forced to wake, from the tweeting of morning songbirds to the chattering of voice of the morning news droning through the placid dewy air of the new day.

your slender fingers slithered through your knotted hair, pulling the linen sheets of of you as you groaned honey through your teeth. you stretched up high until you could practically touch the clouds through the tips of your fingers until it lulled you awake rather than knee-jerk movements of the daily routine of getting out of bed. it was finally the weekend which meant no classes for a couple of days and you were eternally grateful. despite the short break between weeks being only two days, it was surely enough for you to have fun and relax, not to mention that your best friend had just arrived last night from travelling abroad.

you and your best friend, kaito, had been close ever since you had punched him square on the nose in elementary school after he made fun of you. you supposed that the impact had hurt him enough to think he would like to be best friends with you forever.

kaito had been on your side for as long as you could remember. you would always attend the same middle and high schools, helping you through your darkest days, your highest of highs, and even the lowest of lows. hell, kaito was even there for you when you were head over heels for sakusa. if anything, it was your best friend you had to thank for you to even be with sakusa kiyoomi in the first place. you two got together your second year of high school and have been going strong even now that you both were in your last year in university.

it was honestly quite the shame that you and kaito ended up following separate paths after graduating high school. you decided to stay in tokyo with sakusa while kaito travelling abroad and living his best life.

as if your body was on autopilot, you found yourself already making your way out of your shared bedroom of your shared apartment with sakusa, sighing to yourself as you gently shut the door behind you. following the sound of the television’s soft chattering from the small living room, you glanced upon your boyfriend making breakfast and cooking his morning away tot he smell of chamomile tea and eggs.

“morning,” he muttered, quickly flickering you a glance before focusing his attention back on the eggs. he was in the process of making yours and he was well aware of how picky you were with how your eggs were cooked.

“good morning,” you greeted with that smile he always liked seeing. you settled yourself atop one of the bar stools as you waited for him to finish, “we got visitors today.”

sakusa’s brows arch as he plated your breakfast and making his way towards you. “visitors? who? what time are they coming so i can clean properly?”

you shook your head with a light chuckle left your lips, “you don’t have to do that, you know as i think you know who’s coming.” you say, thanking the boy before you as you stabbed your fork into your eggs. “besides, we’re probably going out to hangout.”

a hum of acknowledgement emitted from sakusa as you could’ve swore he made a strange look when you mentioned visitors. you didn’t even mention kaito’s name, but you knew that he knew who you were talking about.

shaking the thought out of your head, you and your boyfriend ate breakfast in the serene silence. your eyes hadn’t even meet each other as your gazes were both locked upon the television screen.

sakusa found himself waiting, sitting on one of the bar stools at some random pub in downtown tokyo that you had dragged him to in order to meet kaito. he let out an inaudible sigh as he pulled his white face mask higher up on the bridge of his nose as he watched your honey drenched eyes scan the crowds every five minutes.

sakusa had a terrible habit of staring at you in the midst of the silence between you two. he often thought of his gazes to be of a nuisance, but he was well aware that you would’ve called him out on it if you truly found it annoying. trust me, he learned this the hard way when you two first started dating. if anything, he took it to his own advantage to memorize every feature upon your face. the volleyball player’s face seemed to light up the same way yours did as your eyes widened at the sight before you—kaito and a friend of who decided to tag along.

“kaito!” you called out to her best friend, pulling sakusa from his trance and towards the arriving pair.

“feels like i haven’t seen you in eons, (y/n).” kaito laughs as he pulls you into a tight hug. sakusa’s eyes flickered down to how dangerously close your friend’s hands were wrapped around you.

a curt smile melted upon your lips, “well, this is the longest we’ve been apart.”

“true, but i’m honestly surprised you haven’t gone insane without me keeping you in check all the time.” jests kaito, a tone lacing his words with a raised brow upon his face.

you scoff, “as if! i though your expected between from me.” you mused before gesturing to your boyfriend that your best friend had failed to even greet, “besides, sakusa has taken over that job.”

it was then kaito had finally nodded towards the masked individual as you were too occupied introducing yourself to kaito’s plus one. eventually the four of you found yourselves sitting on the bar stools in a row, with you being in the middle of kaito and sakusa.

with only two hours into the night, numerous topics had already been talked about—mostly between you an kaito as they were of reminiscent memoirs that refused to wither into oblivion or stories of his travels.

“so when are you leaving japan?” you asked, casually sipping on your cocktail.

a hum of thought emitted from kaito as his eyes focused on his glass, “in two weeks, i think.”

“where to?”

“probably australia and new zealand,” kaito answers between sips of his drinks, “so far, i’ve been to most of the continents besides australia, so i’ll most likely spend a month in each country.”

a light chuckle escaped from your lips, “must be nice.” you commented, suddenly feeling a large, warm hair grip at your thigh. eyes widening slightly, you look back towards sakusa whose face mask was resting below his chin in order to take a sip of his drink. he wasn’t even looking at you, but his grip on your thigh tightened. you squeezed his hand back.

your best friend downed the rest of his drink, his breath finally catching up to him as he felt a pair of eyes staring holds into his skull. he decides to shake it off, “well, i’m just really fortunate enough to have a job that lets me travel. maybe once you graduate you can come with me and travel for a couple months.”

it was then sakusa wove his fingers though yours and gripped your hand tightly. as if he was suddenly afraid to let go, he rudely cleared his throat as he downed a shot.

“besides,” kaito continues his ramblings without noticing any of sakusa’s tense actions towards you. “i was supposed to go on that australia trip right now, but i decided to stop by japan cause i wanted to see you before i leave again. couldn’t last another couple of months without seeing your ugly face.”

a playful scoff emits from you, rolling your eyes. “dickhead.”

“oh, come on, i know you miss me.” he teases, his hand raising to possible touch your face, but before he could do so, sakusa swiftly pulls your face away to quickly peck you on the lips.

“sakusa?” you muttered upon his soft lips as you pull away.

he cleared his throat, “sorry that i interrupted, but it’s getting late and i just remembered that atsumu asked for our help for his move.”

that was a lie. sakusa quickly made it up as he couldn’t bear for his anger and jealousy to brew within him for any longer as he would physically combust if he were. 

“really?” you questioned as confusion rang over your face.

sakusa nods, “yeah, he texted us earlier this morning, remember?”

you tilted you head slightly, trying to recall the memory but failing to do so. but it wasn’t like you questioned it any further as it was probably lost in the busy saturday endeavors of cleaning up around the house that it possibly flew over your head. besides, it was sakusa who usually remembered this types of things so you trusted his judgement.

“oh,” you sigh, looking over to kaito and giving him a pitiful look. “sorry we had to cut tonight short, kaito. maybe next time we can hang out for longer.”

“don’t worry about, (y/n). there’s always next time” your best friend waves his hand as if to say it wasn’t a big deal. he watched as you hopped off the bar stool and gathered your things, “oh here, let me walk you guys out.”

kaito, along with his tag along left their seats at the bar as well and followed you and sakusa out. your best friend noticed the way your boyfriend was tensed with his arm draped affectionately over your shoulders. kaito’s brows slightly furrow as he looked at the sight before him. jealous, he thought as he feigned a laugh. being the germaphobe he is, he was well aware that this was super out of character for sakusa and it was all because of kaito. perhaps there was a smug look on your best friends face that immediately dissipated the moment you all stepped out into the cold night air.

“i swear it got colder,” you mumbled as a cheeky idea popped inside kaito’s head. perhaps he would do you a favor as he was aware of how stressed you had been in the past week, maybe if he pushed a couple more of sakusa’s buttons that you would be in for a treat.

“here, let me give you my coat.” kaito was in the midst of taking his jacket off his shoulders when sakusa had already place his own coat over your shoulders in one swift movement.

the tall volleyball player flickered a look over his shoulder, giving a harsh glance towards your best friend. “i got it, thanks. we’ll be leaving now.”

“bye, kaito!” was the last thing you said to your best friend before you and sakusa walked towards his car.

you hadn’t expected the night to end like this—stark naked under the pale moonlight that bled through the windows of your apartment, laying beneath sakusa who was in the process of taking his shirt off.

all you knew was that this was entirely sparked off his stupid jealousy towards kaito for no reason whatsoever. the thing is, the only reason why you knew was of all the backhanded comments sakusa had made on the car ride home after he had locked the car doors and confessed that helping atsumu was a lie. that having you alone and all his was the only reason why he wanted to leave the pub so badly, to have you in his arms and in his embrace, to feel your skin against his. whatever jealousy he experienced earlier in the night, he wanted it to disappear once he showed you that you were his.

you tried to be indifferent about it. that his uncalled for actions wouldn’t let him succeed in having him take you, but your senses seemed to swell and pulse against your skin at each waking moment that passed. you did end up melting into his arms as he carried you to the bedroom.

he knew you so well that he was aware that the moment his lips touched your neck, all of your defiance would deteriorate. he knew that just a few light brushes and strategically placed touches against your skin would do all of his bidding without much thought.

sakusa sighed into your lips and that burst of serendipitous spark of lust and desperation radiated throughout your bodies. as if all of his rising envious antics melted away, withering along with everything else in the world—the sounds, the questionable best friends, the alcohol coursing through your veins—it dissolved into nothing but you and him.

all of sakusa attention was on you and you only. nothing else in the world would break him out of his trance of love and infatuation for you as he savored the familiar taste of your lips.

you clutched at him with the aching of fervor and reincarnation. you yearned for his touch, clinging to his shoulders, pulling at his hair, and wrapping your legs around his hips to drag him harder into you.

sakusa kissed his way down your neck, to your collarbones and eventually down to your breasts as the deep growl that emitted from his lips lit your skin on fire. he breathed vehemence and desire as he adjusted himself in front of your entrance, watching as there was some sort of unwavering and steadfast hunger and avidity that melted over his face. 

you let out a moan as he stretched you out, the sound bouncing off the walls as he didn’t even hesitate and let you adjust. you held onto his shoulders tightly at each of his movements, all strong and powerful at each buck of his hips. there was an ignited salacity in you and sakusa’s tangled greed of limbs and skin had pressed together. 

your nails dug into his skin, hoping it would leave marks for his friends to see due to your boyfriend’s guttural sounds of pleasure. even the lewd whimpers leaving your lips caused sakusa to make his movements harsher and deeper, for his lovebites to darken upon your innocently clean neck, and to his hands leaving red marks from his grip on your thighs.

you both hoped your marks for each other would last for days. as if they were the reminders of the night a casual catastrophe of jealousy eminent in your love was something you both could memorize the reminders for days. that instead of you remembering the fun memories of your antics with kaito, you instead remembered the way sakusa looked beneath the blue hues of the midnight stars. of how he looked absolutely breathtaking by the moon’s silhouette.

to remember the taste of lust and ardor, of the way his lips tasted, of the way his body felt pressed up against yours. it was truly something to remember as the only reason why you and sakusa were nearing each other’s edges was all because of kaito himself. the man who set you two up in the first place and the man who purposely made sakusa jealous just because you were stressed, kaito was aware that your boyfriend was the only one who could make you feel like this. to unravel and have you in a trembling mess under his own body, you had dragged him with the tide of pleasure with the sudden downpour of mumbled ‘i love you’ was muffled against each other’s bodies.

your phone then buzzed on your bedside table once you both rode out your highs:

from: kaito :))

hope you had fun tonight, homie, i did the best i can ;)