#the system is bad but i kind of refuse to fall through the cracks.

[comfycozycrossfox]

not a big fan of being forced to play games i want no part in, however, even less of a fan of losing said games.

[ddarker-dreams]

FINALLY SOMEONE SAID THE TRUTH.

I admit that i enjoyed act 3 but it feels like really rushed i have so much complain with that.

The build up until act 2 was so good it give us so much premise but the final blow si meh. Sorry that i want to share thing long rant with you

1. Why the final talk is with yae, no offense to her but we need ei to explain not to mention she witness khaenriah downfall so she can give us more information, i feel like they do it for the plot armor so they can just keep dragging this

2. So many things that quite inconsistant, the shogun is show no mercy to anyone that even did a little thing outside what she think its right, how come she can still have a talk with signora, when sara is falling like that, and also there is no clarification about sara right now.

The traveler was so done at first they refuse to help thoma and ayaka at the beginning. But they seem so happy and forget everything how come they are not RAGE ( okay maybe this is to bias and personal) when this nation provide nothing about our siblings information and also why they are not mention anything about their problem in ei stroy quest. Its nonsense! She is right in front of youu, ask about your siblings, ask about khaenriah, ask about ukmown god!!. How come they can just forget like that. Also mihoyo really waste the potential about twin things i thing ei will give us so much help bcs of the sympathy that we both rn lost our twin but noooo.

3. Kokomi seem lost some brain cell, she make a very succesfull grand intro but she become meh in act 3, how come a great strategist like her let the sus sponsorship slip just bcs they are desperate, not to mention her screen time is really small and her role seem so unsignificant and it feels lile she is a plain npc.

4. The awesome world quest that we have done doesnt get any mention at all! Inazuma owe us so much with cleansing sakura, thunder sakura, tatarigami, obarashi quest. It has so much potential that yae or ei or anyone else aknowledge what traveler has been done but nooo.

cracks knuckles... i suppose it's time for my promised dissertation. interestingly enough, you touched on a lot of the main issues i had with chapter III.

i think that if i had to pin the main issue, it's a lack of overall cohesiveness? we were jumping all over the place without the chance to ever flesh things out. inazuma is a smaller cast, but i feel like we didn't get to see any of them shine. since i'm most interested in the genshin characters, i'll break down my problems by going over everyone and their (lack) of impact on the story.

was ayaka not questioned or placed under suspicion for being close to thoma before his escape? i wanted to see her broken up over her duties as they relate to the yashiro commission, paired with having someone she genuinely cares about in danger. it would've been an interesting struggle if she was forced to choose one or the other. instead she just kinda took a back seat.

speaking of thoma, i don't even have anything to say, because he just... was there? for .0001 seconds. said "lol this sucks ig" and that's about it. i know we're going to get a story for him in the future since he's a 5* but i'm not getting my hopes up 😭 then in the raiden shogun's character story, man is peachy keen! be upset with the raiden shogun! have some inner conflict! even if it's just using loaded language because he's under surveillance for going against the raiden shogun, that'd be so cool. saying something like,

"Traveler, what's with that expression? Oh please, there's nothing to worry about. We're under the Statue of the Omnipresent God's protection. Nothing bad has ever happened here." *wink*

i also don't know what to say about gorou. he was... there....... i think. what is he fighting for? what are the stakes for him? what makes him place so much trust into kokomi? i'm out of things to say about him because i don't remember anything he did or said.

kokomi... oh kokomi... i was so hyped. so excited. i thought that maybe we could see a foil to the raiden shogun. that she'd have a moment where she's forced to realize, just like her opponent, sacrifices must be made that will hurt people who will never understand why she made them. or maybe something to show her military prowess. but instead she just accepts a mysterious patron's help (?), sees her people aging like the grateful dead from JJBA, and goes oh well. that sucks. what can ya do. oh bye traveler i guess, good luck with that. ????????????? HUH... similar case to thoma where she's gonna get a character story but like. she won't be the leader of the resistance anymore. that was her whole shtick. they took her shtick away. also she forced me to interact with more NPCs whose names i've already forgotten so i'm tilted about that still.

KUJOU SARA... AN INJUSTICE. A DISGRACE. a slap to my woman loving face. the build up was there. yae miko's comments about sara probably knowing the tenryou commission is involved in shady dealings, but is choosing not to think about it. sara being forced to confront reality and challenge her adopted father with the truth. being able to blaze a new path for herself in the process. when she started running to the raiden shogun i was ultra hyped up. sara, a devotee to the shogun for so long, was about to see her god interacting with the same people who led inazuma to this awful state. how would she react? would she stay ignorant, like yae miko so coyly said, choosing to look away in favor of following her god's footsteps? or would she be forced to recognize the raiden shogun isn't as divine as she once thought, and challenge her belief system?

we open the door to see the raiden shogun. the loading screen ensues. the camera pans to the ominous room, clouded in darkness, hinting at the ominous confrontation that is to come. the music takes a serious timbre. and then...

well fuck that potential character arc i guess. (we still don't know what sara made of any of this since she poofed out of existence from the story at this point)

kazuha also was handed a similar treatment. we've been with him for a while longer now. he is our introduction into inazuma, the one who first gets us emotionally involved by regaling us with the bittersweet tale of friendship that led him to becoming a wanted criminal. a kind soul who loves nature yet was dealt a cruel hand by fate, forced to watch his home nation turn into a hostile place, where his dear friend ultimately perished as a result. we get the scene with his friend's vision lighting back up. he parries a block from the raiden shogun, in the same area where his friend was killed by her. the parallels. the drama. except this time, he wasn't too late. he protected the traveler where he "failed" to protect his friend in the past. did he feel redemption at this? or was it a bittersweet reminder of what could've been?

WELL i guess we'll never know because we didn't get to talk to him again 😭 idk who got a bait and switch worse, him or sara. jesus christ mihoyo.

then we have signora. why is the raiden shogun talking to her? does she know about the gnosis being taken, and if she doesn't, what was her plan to get it from the archon? what does she think about scaramouche? and oh, okay, we're fighting here now. good fight + god tier music. pog pog. okay, now we've beaten her up, and raiden shogun wyd— wait no not signora her lore is still on CUPS not YET raiden shogun and— ah she's dead. okay. non nerds who didn't read artifact lore are going to know nothing about her. signora has such an interesting story, and yet... well. ok.

then we get raiden shogun redemption (?) arc. i was hype for this as well, though at that point, idk why i bothered being hype. i knew they were gonna do a cute power of friendship something or another, and i'm good with that, so long as it's executed well. what i was envisioning was like seven different buffs to correspond with the seven different visions, the dreams of those whose ambitions were stolen serving as the spear to penetrate the raiden shogun's heart of stone. maybe a hydro vision giving us extra healing for a time, with the voice acting over it being like,

"Even if the rest of the world forgets us, let our will carry you through this one final time. Succeed where we couldn't, Traveler."

so on and so forth.

but instead we got— you get the idea at this point. why bother spelling it out anymore.

at that point i was surprised the raiden shogun didn't go "oopsie woopsie!! we made a fucky wucky!!!" because that was the vibe i was getting. i love ei, don't get me wrong, but i wanted to see her challenged with what she had done to inazuma in the past year. maybe meeting NPC #2345259 who lost her sister to the vision decree or something, reminding ei of the love she held for her sister... being forced to come to terms with the extent of what she's done in pursuit of eternity.

anyway. please for the love of god mihoyo hire better writers for the main story. that is all i ask. thank you.

[starrywolf101]

Sure, we could say that Tommy is physically normal after revival,

But that's no fun.

So, how about this:

People weren't made to been revived. Bringing the dead back has consequences.

When Tommy came back, he wasn't the same, and I'm not just talking about trauma.

His body is much more fragile, and is more zombie-like than human. He has phantom pains now, and any recent wounds rot really fast. Healing potions hurt him and potions of harming heal him. He's truly undead in every way except mentally. Being revived has more or less shoved his spirit back into a corpse.

This is another reason why he's afraid of pain, because witnessing his body rot away adds onto the trauma.

Scars litter his body, both old and new.

Even with Ranboo, Tubbo, and Puffy's support, he retreats into his head and dirt shack. He refuses to leave the space, terrified of everything.

But... when he meets Michael, something protective takes hold. Here is a child free of the traumas he and others have faced. Not only that, but Michael looks at Tommy and doesn't run and hide. He loves his big brother Tommy.

Tubbo and Ranboo watched the progress that Tommy has made since meeting their son. They've watched Tommy hide away from everything, afraid of even being touched, to going on walks with Michael and running around with the kid. With Michael, Tommy allows physical contact. He gives the kid piggy back rides, he reads out loud while Michael sits in his lap, and they've even napped together, with Michael curled into Tommy's body.

Sometimes, even if he doesn't get hurt, his scars rot away when not taken care of for a period of time. Tubbo has taken to treating Tommy when this happens, and even makes the boy do check-ups. Michael loves to help, playing doctor with Tommy. He's not disgusted by the rot like others are, and maybe that has something to do with them both being zombies of sort.

Even if Tommy is still scared of the world, he makes progress everyday. His support system are there for him.

And then something bad happens.

It was just a picnic with the four of them, and Michael had wondered off. Tommy left to look while Tubbo and Ranboo relax. None of them were particularly worried. Next thing they know, there's an explosion and loud squeals of fear. The two of them race towards the distressed sounds, only to find a creeper hole and a curled up figure at the bottom. Tommy was unconscious, injured, and curled around Michael. Luckily Michael didn't have a scratch on him, but thats because Tommy took the hit.

Tubbo, who always caries potions of harming for both his undead son and best friend, is quick to tend to Tommy while Ranboo calms their distressed child. While most of the burns and rot heals, Tommy took a lot of damage to his head— more specifically, his right eye. Tubbo would've gagged if he wasn't already used to gruesome injuries. He's learned to numb himself as a child soldier.

Tommy remains unconscious for a few days, and he stays at Tubbo's home in Snowchester. Michael sits by his bed, worried for his uncle. Tubbo assures the piglin child that Tommy was strong and would be up in no time.

The first thing Tommy sees when he wakes up is Tubbo, as Michael was long asleep after he'd been promised that Tommy would be looked after.

"Tubso...?"

Happy that his best friend was awake, Tubbo had pulled Tommy into a hug, though it was gentler than the normal bone-crushing embraces. "You scared us! What were you thinking!?"

Returning the hug as best as he could, Tommy answered: "I saw the creeper and acted, Big Man. What kind of big brother would I be if Michael got hurt?"

Apparantly, they weren't quiet enough, because both are alerted to the sound of small hoof-steps. Smiling, Tommy invites the kid into the bed, who immediately snorts happily and curls up into his side. And in that moment, Tubbo wants to cry tears of joy— he saw the way Tommy looked down at his son, and was reminded of how Wilbur used to look at Tommy and Fundy. Just the sheer amount of love... and Tommy wasn't even aware of his own expression.

When Tommy catches Tubbo's staring, he rolls his eyes and scoots himself and Michael over. "Get in here already, Big Man. Its late and I'm exhausted." With no further invitation needed, Tubbo climbs in and presses against Tommy's other side. That's how Ranboo found them in the morning (he took pictures so that none of them would ever forget.)

A few days after that, they take the bandages off Tommy's head and reveal his eye— just a socket now. Trying to make the best of the situation, Tommy cracks a smile and looks at Michael: "Looks like we're matching, Big M,"

Surprisingly, the creeper explosion didn't set Tommy back in progress. In fact, a little bit of the old Tommy was coming back to him after the experience. He started venturing out more, though not without armor anymore. He also finally moved out of that cruddy dirt shack and moved into Snowchester.

Tommy wore an eyepatch most of the time nowadays, not wanting people to stare at his socket. He only took it off around people he felt safe around. Those being Puffy, Tubbo, Ranboo, and Michael. He still got the odd looks at the eyepatch from people who didn't know, but those that did never commented on it.

With the mansion nearly complete, Ranboo decided that he wanted to move some of his stuff in. While he still lived in his cabin by Techno, he also wanted to stay with Tubbo and Michael. So the compromise was that he'd live in both homes. With that settled, Tommy promised to help Ranboo move some of his things over.

Now, this was the first time since right before the "final confrontation" with Dream that he's seen Techno and Phil. Of course, they'd heard he was locked in the prison, and there was a rumor going around that he died, but neither realy knew what he went through.

So of course Techno starts a fight with Tommy about being on his property.

Of course Tommy's stubbornness gets the best of him and he immediately starts arguing back. Ranboo watches the train wreck that is Techno and Tommy's relationship. Phil stands behind Techno, only jumping in to agree with his friend.

"And whats even with the eyepatch? It looks so stupid!"

Snarling, Tommy clenches his fists. "You wanna know whats with the eyepatch? Fine." He rips it off to reveal the rotting socket. It was about time for the weekly checkup anyways, but he wanted to help Ranboo first.

Shocked silence falls over the two anarchists, and Tommy feels a sense of satisfaction.

"...I– Tommy?" Phil was at a loss for words.

"It turns out being revived from the dead isn't all sunshine and flowers. But, I guess neither is being beat to death by your abuser either, innit."

They were already carrying everything that Ranboo wanted to take with him, do with that, Tommy starts to head back for the nether portal.

Suddenly pulled from his shock, Techno reaches for Tommy, wanting– no, needing an explanation. The voices in his head were all confused on how to feel, and he felt much the same. "Theseus–"

Ranboo grabs Techno's wrist before he could touch Tommy. Ranboo, who had talked about having the backbone of a chocolate eclair, had a look in his eyes. Something dangerous and protective that made Techno back off. "Do not touch him." Ranboo had hissed before realizing what he did and getting flustered. "He, uh– he doesn't like being touch..." Ranboo mumbles before hurrying after Tommy.

Techno and Phil are left to wonder what happened to a boy once so full of life. The thought that they were partially of fault for this weighed heavy on them.

---

I didn't really go back and proof read this, it was mostly just a single stream of consciousness over the past couple hours of writing.

Edit: [Masterpost]

[warmblanketwhump]

request from @allthewhumpygoodness

✓: waking up either adorably confused or painfully scared

A stumbles through their doorway in a daze, wet coughs rattling their chest. The tickle in their throat had evolved to an awful, sandpaper feeling that afternoon, and their head was pounding with every step they took.

With trembling fingers, they pull out their phone and shoot a text to B: lol guess who’s sick again

B's reply pings back: let me guess - you? ;)

This was their third cold this fall - their immune system sucked. The first two times, they’d toughed it out alone - dragging themselves to the kitchen to microwave canned soup, choking down medicine, burying themselves under blankets. They’d nursed themselves back to health in a couple days, certain that no one had even seen that they’d been gone.

But B noticed their most recent bout, and brought them extra tissues, a box of ginger tea, and a sympathetic half-smile the day A came back to work. A had gratefully accepted the gift but waved off the concern, assuring them that while they appreciated the gesture, they really were fine.

Still….this time, they figured it couldn’t hurt to let someone know. Just in case they wanted to check in on them. Feel their forehead and brush away the damp hair. Bring them medicine and warm tea to soothe their raw throat. Tuck an extra blanket around them when the chills hit.

Stop being so needy, you wimp. No one has time to look after you.

A shiver shakes their body, and they cough again, rousing themselves out of their longing pity party. No one was coming to save them. And it was okay. Really. They had taken care of themselves before, and they could do it again. A hot shower and a day or two of rest, and they’d be good as new.

They shed their work clothes and step into the the shower, huddling as the frigid air of the bathroom melds with the warm steam. Even after 30 minutes in scalding water, the low-grade chill still won't leave their bones. So they dry off, wrap up in a blanket, and prepare to ride it out.

By that evening, it’s clear that this is not just a cold. They’re huddled under three blankets in bed, their aching head burning with fever, and every joint feels like it’s on fire. Their throat is hoarse from near-constant coughing deep within their chest. A licks their parched lips, weighing whether they have enough energy to drag themselves out from under the covers for a cup of water. And they're still freezing, so deeply cold that it feels like their entire body is made from ice.

Not even a the idea of a hot shower can persuade them to stand up, and A settles for curling into the fetal position, hugging themselves. Still, they shake, unable to get warm enough. They sniffle weakly, feeling stupid and helpless and so, so weak, barely able to lift their head. They need warmth, water, medicine, a hand to hold –

No, this wasn’t a cold at all. This was bad.

Suddenly, after hours of chills, a welcome rush of heat floods their body, and they kick the covers off the bed. The sweat soaks their sheets as they sprawl out, momentarily grateful for the feeling of any kind of warmth. The oppressive heat knocks them into a thin sleep, and they let their eyelids flutter shut.

They're in their room, lying on their bed and unable to move, tied down by some immovable force. In the corner of the room, a shadowed figure stands, holding a candle close to their chest. A tries to call out to them, but they stand in the shadows and refuse to come any closer. In the corner of the room, they touch the flame to a pile of papers, and A's room erupts into a blaze.

The room spins and bends, and soon A is hearing the walls whisper and laugh and scream and warp as they curl and melt to the ground. Panicked tears stream down their face, pooling on the pillow as twisted images hurtle through their delirious mind, smoke flooding their lungs, flames licking at the foot of their bed. They’re utterly terrified, locked in place by their aching body. It's coming closer now, and they're screaming with all they've got, but no sound comes out. The dark figure comes closer, closer, reaching a hand toward them, and they beg their body to move one last time –

“A. C'mon now, A. Wake up. It's just a dream. Please, wake up.”

A tenses as they blink awake, their heart racing as the dark something shakes their shoulder. Panic sets in, and they twist away, a surge of adrenaline causing them to shoot up and press against the wall behind their bed. "Get away! Go! It's burning!"

"A, it's me, B. It's just me." The soft lamplight smooths the foreboding edges of the figure, and A can see them bending closer, their quiet voice laced with urgency. A still can't speak, fear gripping their voice and holding it hostage, their heartbeat pounding in their chest.

“I called you a couple hours ago to see if you needed anything. But you didn’t answer, and I got worried.” B comes in and out of focus, and A can see the furrowed line between their eyebrows, the soft compassion in their eyes as they cautiously sit at the edge of the bed. B bites their lip as they gently lay their cool hand over A’s feverish forehead. "A, you’re burning up."

A’s breathing slows, and they wrap their arms back around themselves, leaning into B’s touch. B strokes their hair and keeps their hand pressed to A’s forehead. The sweetness of the gesture cracks something open in A, and a sob slips out.

“A,” B starts, hesitantly, “who’s looking after you?”

With that single question, all pride leaves A and they swallow hard as a rush of loneliness overwhelms them. “There’s…no one. You’re the only one.” The chills are back now, freezing the sweat on their skin and rattling their bones and teeth so hard they’re scared they’ll break. A whispers a soft, pitiful plea as they hold out a single trembling arm to B: “C-could you hand me a b-blanket? Please? I’m c-cold.”

A expects B to toss the blanket their way. Instead, B gently wraps it around their shoulders and gathers the shivering, sweat-soaked bundle of a human in their arms, enveloping them in the warmth that only another person can provide. It’s then that A truly lets themselves fall apart.

The next couple hours are a blur. When the fever spikes B is there, adding blankets and holding A in their arms to ease the shakes and warm their frozen bones. When A can hardly speak because their throat is shot from coughing, B miraculously procures honey lemon tea to soothe it and props them up to help them sip it. When the nightmares come back, B is there to shush their sobs and rub their back, encouraging them to breath through the hacking and coughing.

A still feels awful. But having B here...it's made it better. So much better. Every time they wake up, B is there. And they're scared of waking up the next morning with B gone and having to fend for themselves alone the next day. But exhaustion steals the worry away, and they fall asleep before they can timidly ask B to stay.

When they wake up, they're enveloped in warm, solid arms, and it takes a moment to register the unusual feeling. They nestle closer towards the warmth before it hits them that no, this is not how they usually wake up. Tilting their head up, they see B, blanket half over their shoulders, holding them, eyes heavy with sleep. They're still here?

B sees A staring down at them, and gives them a small smile.

"That was a rough one. Think you can handle a little soup this morning?"

A can’t answer the question, because they’re still thinking about a different one. “You stayed all night?”

B shrugged a nonchalant shoulder. “‘Course I stayed. Wasn’t going to let you fight off those monsters all alone, was I?”

A tells themselves the sudden lump in their throat is just a byproduct of their flu, and clears their throat. “I…thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“A, trust me. I wanted to do it.” They brush back A’s damp hair and squeeze them, and A feels like they’ve melted into a puddle. This is all they’ve ever wanted when they were sick - no, it’s more than they could have asked for. They shift and snuggle closer, eyes drifting shut again, hand finding B’s fingers.

“5 more minutes,” they mumble contentedly. “Then let’s talk about soup.”

[stressy-enby]

Some Scars aren’t Physical: PART 2

Iida X GN! Reader

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Allusions to past abuse, swearing, slight panic attack, L-bombs, and the obligatory Izuku texting POV 😜🤪

Summery: (Y/N) had a terrible boyfriend in middle school. He was possessive, manipulative, and just plain awful. Since breaking up with Him, (Y/N)’s had pretty bad relationship anxiety. It’s so bad, that it makes them afraid to pursue their new crush: the kind, earnest class rep, Tenya Iida.

Link to Part 1

Masterlist

Please note: Reader is a little short. Like, Iida’s a tall boi, and Reader’s implied to be short enough to at least have to tilt their head a little to fully see them. If you’re 5’10 or taller, (first of all, fuck you, can I have your height?) then kindly overlook every time reader is described as short. I’m 5’2, leave me alone.

Btw, this is the end, y’all. I only planned 2 parts. Enjoy 😘 

. . .

Summer came. Villains attacked, a classmate was kidnapped and rescued, and you moved into the new school dorm system. You and Tenya had been going out for a little over a month. You were thrilled to be closer to him with the dorms, and he had shared your enthusiasm, even if it was somewhat more contained. 

“Y’know what’s funny?” You looked up at Tenya, swinging your interconnected hands between you. “I still don’t think I’ve gotten used to the convince of the dorms.”

“Well, we haven’t been here very long.” The bespectacled boy mused with a smile. 

“Yeah, but it’s like… somethings I forget that we’re even in the dorms.”

“Really?” Tenya pressed the Up button on the elevator, running his thumb over your knuckles as you waited for the doors to open.

“Uh-huh. Just yesterday Izuku and I were texting and planning a movie night, I made said something like ‘wanna come over to my place or should I head over to yours’, and he was like ‘we’re literally within the same 500 yard radius of each other. It doesn’t matter.’ My dumb ass really thought I was still in my own house.”

Tenya laughed as you pulled him into the waiting elevator and punched in your floor number. “What movie are you planning on seeing?”

“I’m going to make his sit through all of Mama Mia!, and possibly the sequel if we don’t start too late.” You cut your eyes to the side to squint playfully at your boyfriend. “Why? You want in?”

“If you’ll have me, I don’t want to encroach on your “bestie time”.” Tenya pulled his hand out of yours to make over exaggerated air quotes. 

You scoffed, lightly shoving him out of the elevator as it opened on your floor. “I highly doubt he’d care. Homeboy won’t say it to your face, but you’re his bestie too.” You grabbed his forearm, hugging it to yourself.

“If you’re sure, I wasn’t kidding about not wanting to intrude on you and Midoriya’s time. I know he’s important to you.”

You smiled warmly up at him, coming to a stop in front of your dorm room. “I really appreciate that, but you have nothing to worry about. If I didn’t want you there, I wouldn’t offer.”

“Hmm. I just might take you up on that, then.”

Tenya took both your hands in his own, brushing his lips against your knuckles. You giggled softly, squeezing his hands in response.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” You said quietly. “It’s been really weird lately, we defiantly needed a night out.”

“Yeah. Things seem to be settling down, but I think the training camp incident’s still heavy on many of our minds.” Tenya sighed. “I know it is on mine.”

You hummed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Then you certainly deserved a date night.”

He chuckled, a soft, blissful expression painting his sharp features. He cleared his throat, his cheeks beginning to darken. “(Y/N), uh, I’m going to ask you something. Before I do though, I want you to know that saying “no” is an expectable answer. I’m not going to be upset, I promise.”

You raised both eyebrows, brows furrowing. “Okay,”

Tenya took a deep breath, squinting his eyes shut for a second before reclaiming eye contact with you. “Can I kiss you?”

You swore the world stopped. You vaguely heard laughter from the dorm a few doors down, but it didn’t register. All that mattered was Tenya. Beautiful, respectful, wonderful Tenya, and how he wanted to kiss you. He hadn’t asked when you’d had your first kiss back in middle school. He just swooped in and-

Nope. You’re not thinking about Him. He’s not here. He can’t hurt you anymore. Tenya’s here, and he’s asking if he can kiss you. 

And you want him to kiss you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I would really like that.”

A small smile cracked across Tenya’s nervous face. He gently cupped you face with his hand. “You’re sure? Absolutely sure that you…”

You stood on your toes, knotting your fingers behind his neck. “Kiss me, Tenya.”

And he happily, albeit nervously complied.

. . .

After a draining school day and the mountain of homework that followed, all you wanted to do was collapse. You flopped over on your bed, groaning into the blanket. You were so tired you didn’t even feel like going down to the main floor for dinner; you figured you could raid your mini fridge when you got hungry.

Tenya’s gonna have a heart attack if he thinks I’m skipping meals, you thought with a dry chuckle. Just as you were unlocking his phone to text him, you heard a knock at your door. 

“Yeah?” You called, refusing to leave the comfort of your bed.

“It’s me, Tenya.” He replied. “Can I come in?”

“Sure. Yeah, get in here.” You sat up to greet your boyfriend, tossing your phone aside.

He entered, pressing a kiss to your forehead before joining you on the bed. “How are you, dear? You’ve been hiding in here since the class ended.”

“Tired. So tired.” You mumbled, leaning into his large frame. 

“Oh, well, that certainly explains your absence.” Tenya remarked. “Are you hungry? I was thinking we could go out someplace to get something to eat. Somewhere off campus.”

“Um, I…”

You’d never liked saying no, especially not to Tenya. You’d never really had a reason to; you usually agreed with whatever he suggested. He’d never liked it when you said no to Him. He’d guilt you into giving into whatever it was He wanted. He’d twist your emotions until you couldn’t do anything but halfheartedly agree to His whims.

You were still far too tired. You couldn’t even bring yourself to go downstairs, much less out of the school. You didn’t want to. You wanted to say no.

But the word wouldn’t form. 

“(Y/N)? Honey, are you okay?” Tenya asked, a concerned expression taking root on his face. “You look distressed, and you’re shaking, what’s wrong?”

“Uh, I-” You swallowed thickly, breathing going funny. “I don’t-”

“Shit,” Tenya muttered under his breath. He slipped off the bed to kneel in front of you, taking both your hands in his own. “Shhh, (Y/N)? I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I promise you’re going to be okay. Try taking some deep breaths, okay? It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

You slowly calmed down, your anxiety settling as Tenya whispered soothing words and caressed your hands. “I’m okay. Thanks.”

“Of course,” He murmured, brushing hips lips against your knuckles. “Can you tell me what happened?”

You hung your head, shame twinging in your gut. “I’m too tired to go out, but I wasn’t sure how to tell you no. I guess I got nervous.”

“Okay, why is that scary to you?” Tenya retook his seat next to you, rubbing a gentle hand across your back. “‘No’ is an acceptable answer, (Y/N). You shouldn’t force yourself to do anything you don’t want to do.”

You tugged on his shirt, eyes beginning to brim with tears. “Can I sit in your lap?”

“Oh, come here.” Tenya encouraged, opening his arms.

You crawled onto him, sitting sideways on his thighs and leaning against his chest. He tenderly wrapped his arms around you, tucking your head into the crook of his neck.

“I had a boyfriend in middle school who wouldn’t let me say no to Him.” You muttered, nuzzling more into Tenya. “He’d guilt me into doing whatever He wanted. He did a lot of other shit too, I don’t think I can get into all of it right now, though. You’re nothing like Him, and I know that. I really like you a lot, Tenya, and I trust you, but I still get nervous sometimes because I keep thinking about what it was like with him and it’s ruining things with you and I don’t wanna fuck this up and I hate it and-”

“(Y/N), you’re crying.” Tenya interrupted, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, honey.”

You nodded mutely, wiping the rest of your tears. “ ’m sorry,”

“Please don’t think you have to apologize. I understand. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He assured you, gently rocking you back and forth. “None of this is your fault.”

He held you for another few minutes, rocking you until your tears stopped falling. “Thank you, Ten.”

“You’re welcome, dear.” He kissed your forehead, smiling loving at you."Can you promise me something?”

“I don’t know, what is it?” You asked, squinting.

Tenya laughed softly. “That you’ll say ‘no’ to me when you have to.”

“I’ll try,” You twisted your shirt in your fingers. “I don’t want you to be upset with me, though.”

“For what? Having your own opinion? Not wanting to do something?” He pulled away from you a little to look you in the eyes. “That’s unfair to you. You’re far too precious to me. I don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped being with me.”

You laughed breathily, smiling for the first time all night. “That’s just it, Tenya. I don’t feel trapped. I feel free.”

Tenya let out a dumbfounded laugh, blush spreading across his face. “W-well, I’m glad.”

You softy threaded your fingers into his hair, kissing him sweetly. He melted into your touch, pacing a hand on the back of your head.

“Thank you,” You whispered against his lips.

“For what?”

“For just… being you. You’re amazing, Ten.” You pursed your lips, organizing your thoughts. “And… I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

Tenya’s grip on you suddenly slackened out of shock. You would’ve slid right out of his lap if you hadn’t anchored yourself by griping his shoulders.

“Woah, sorry,” Tenya quickly gathered you into his arms again, face burning. “You surprised me. Um, did- did you mean it?”

“How could I not?”

 Tenya let out a dazed puff of air, a flustered smile tugging at the cornered of his lips. He lightly kissed your jaw, his fingers dancing over your waist with a feather-light touch. “I love you too, (Y/N).”

. . . 

(Y/N): Yeah, I was just too tired to go down to dinner. Don’t worry, I’ve got food up here. Tenya wanted to go out for dinner, but a minor panic attack changed his mind 😎

Izuku: Wait, panic attack? What happened?

(Y/N): He asked if we could go, and I got a little nervous about telling him no

(Y/N): I freaked out a little bit, and he held me for a while. I told him a little about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named

Izuku: …Voldemort??

(Y/N): 😑

(Y/N): Yes, Izuku. I dated Voldemort in middle school.

Izuku: Lol, how’d that convo go?

(Y/N): Really well, actually. Tenya was supper understanding. God I love him.

Izuku rolled his eyes, snickering as he texted back, Totally news to me. 🤣 When did you come to that realization? 

As he hit send, a different text notification slid across the screen.

Iida: (Y/N) got anxious about something and explained a little of their “bad dating experience” you mentioned to me. They were a little distressed about the whole thing, but they still managed to fluster me.

“What am I, the middle man?” Izuku asked himself, sighing as he texted his friend back.

Izuku: Ooh boy. What’d they do?

Another text from you. Izuku navigated back to your thread. This was already getting tiresome.

(Y/N): I dunno. We had a date a month-ish ago, and we had our first kiss afterwards. I think I may’ve had some sort of idea that I was in love with him then, when he asked if he could kiss me.

Iida again. “Good grief,” Izuku muttered.

Iida: They told me they loved me. It threw me for a loop, but I managed to regain control of my senses to tell them that I loved them too.

Izuku: Geez, you two are hopeless.

Iida: What do you mean?

Izuku: I’m currently switching back and forth between texting both you and (Y/N) gushing over each other.

Iida: Oh.

Izuku: Yeah man. This is fun and all, but (Y/N) called me as their wingman first. Go get your own, lmao

Switching back over to your message, Izuku sent one last text:

Izuku: That’s really sweet. Anyway, Iida is also texting me at the exact same time as you are. Thought I’d pass along a message he didn’t ask me to pass: he’s head over heels for you. I’m now muting my phone. Being friends with you two is exhausting. 

[n0wornever]

Remember Me - Luke Patterson x Reader

“So I have this idea where the reader died with the boys she's like their friend/fan/manager type stuff but like she has this crush on Luke since forever but never acted up on it and so when they met Julie and stuff the boys kind of neglect her because they were so focused on making the band and stuff and she also sees the chemistry between Luke and Julie. After that she went and met Willie where they talked about their unfinished business and like the reader knows her unfinished business and it's not Luke...”

So this is....the saddest piece I’ve ever written, sorry in advance

It had been about two months since Y/N and the boys were planted in Julie Molina’s life. In that short period of time, Luke, Alex, and Reggie were able to creatively connect with the girl and start to play music again. As much as she loved to watch the boys succeed, she couldn’t help but feel a pain in her chest.

As the boys grew closer to Julie, Y/N slipped into the background. Unable to contribute musically and her death making it impossible for her to help with the marketing piece she used to take on, she was often relegated to an audience member and cheerleader. She didn’t mind encouraging her boys, but she couldn’t help but feel like an outsider from the group.

As she sat on the white sand, she looked out at the open water, listening to water whip around. A jolt pushed her back a few feet, leaving her breathless. As she came back from the sudden pain, she thought about what Willie had said to Alex about completing their unfinished business. With the physical pain of whatever Caleb ejected into their system, and the hidden pain her chest, she was aware of the fact that she couldn’t last long. 

She knew she needed to talk to someone about it. Her best friend had been the one she turned to when she felt her lowest. She had hesitated to say anything to him before because looked so happy with this second chance. He was writing and singing again, and most importantly, he was smiling again. She had ignored the fast beating of her heart when he grabbed her hand in excitement over the Phantoms’ first gig and definitely ignored the ache in her chest when she saw the way that Julie and Luke sang with each other on the stage. However, she knew this feeling in her gut wouldn’t go away with her letting it build inside, so she was finally going to rip off that bandaid. 

She snapped her fingers and was instantly brought back to the garage. She looked around the garage and didn’t see anyone initially. As she waited, she started to hear the muffled sound of voices outside the door. She walked over, opening the door a crack and peeking outside. She saw Luke and Julie, a soft smile across his face as he looked at her. One she once thought was reserved for her. She swallowed hard as she listened.

“Julie, you’re incredible, please talk to me. You know that you can tell me anything, right?” 

The girl looked up at him with wide eyes and a sweet smile. They moved to try to connect hands, his slipping through hers. She turned to face the house and he smiled at her side profile.

“This is an interesting little relationship you and I have…”

Y/N felt tears bubble toward the surface as she watched the pure encounter in front of her. She had felt like she had been replaced for a while now, but this was the physical proof she was looking for. She slid the door closed and fell against it, letting silent tears fall from her face for a moment before snapping her fingers again.

She landed in the middle of the quiet dance floor of Caleb’s club. She heard the sound of tires wheeling toward her and turned to see Willie racing her way. He slid up to meet her, picking up his board in his hand and smiling at her.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” 

She clutched her wrist in her opposite hand, refusing to meet his eyes. She felt his hand grab hers and she finally met his gaze, unable to stop the tears from flowing. 

“What’s going on?” He pressed, his eyebrows raised in concern. 

She let go of his hand and moved hers to wipe the tears away. “I just wanted to talk to you about something.” She shoved her hands in her pockets as she looked up at him. 

He sighed, leading her over to the table. He sat his board on the chair next to him and turned to face her. She took a deep breath before speaking again. 

“You know how you said that by completing your unfinished business you could pass on…”

“Uh-huh…” He said slowly, one eyebrow raising at her. 

She rubbed the back of her neck “I was wondering...how do you find out what that is exactly...to do that…”

“Y/N have you talked to the boys-”

She stopped him, holding a hand out to his face. “I am certain it doesn’t have anything to do with them.” He stared at her blankly “You know that. We talked about how their scheduled performance will probably be the anecdote for them. That won’t work for me… I need to do this alone” 

He nodded at her, waiting a moment before talking again “Okay, so let’s think about this…. Do you have anyone that you have unresolved issues with? Anyone that you might have left on bad terms with?”

She thought hard about this question. There were many people that she never received clarity from, but one stuck out. Her mom and her were never really on great terms. She remembered the last argument they had the last night before she left for the Sunset Curve show. Her mom had been frustrated with her slipping grades and her continued focus on the boys’ career instead of her own. 

What really broke her was her mom’s stance that Luke “wasn’t good enough for her” and that she was wasting her time on him. The screaming match that followed this comment had left Y/N’s face red and her heart racing as she screamed ‘I hate you’ at her mother and slammed the door as she left.

She regretted that the moment she said it. She knew her mom was just looking out for her, that she wanted the best for her daughter, and was genuinely worried about her. She knew she didn’t like Luke, but it wasn’t because she disliked him, she felt like the boy was leading her daughter on and didn’t want her heart to hurt anymore. Her mom was there the nights she cried when Luke would go on dates with other girls or when he would cancel plans last minute. Her mom would console her into the early hours of her morning. Although they didn’t always see eye to eye, her mom cared about her and loved her more than anyone she ever knew. 

She felt her chest get heavier the longer she thought about that moment. She met Willie’s eyes again, placing her hands on the table as she told him the story. 

“I think I know what I need to do, thanks, Wille.” 

The right side of his lips rose at her, grabbing her hands and squeezing them. “You sure that this is what you want?” 

She nodded, standing up. She wrapped the flannel she stole from Luke this morning and pulled it over her shoulders. The pair exchanged a hug and a last goodbye before she poofed out of the room. As she opened her eyes, she was met by a scene she was all too familiar with. The tree was already decorated for the Christmas holiday, the dining room set the way her mom always did even though they rarely ate there. She walked forward, entering the living room. That is when she saw her, she almost cried at the sight of the grey-haired woman, knitting in her favorite chair. As she approached her and watched her stoically watching the screen in front of her, she shook from the emotion that fell from her body. Y/N tried to wave her hand in front of her face, but the woman did not react to the movement. She watched her for another moment before she walked over to the table.

She saw the pen and notepad on the table and concentrated on them. She exhaled as she was able to hold the pen in her hand. She touched the notepad, pressing the ink to the page. The words flew like water from her as the pen hit the paper. She got to the end and thought carefully before she wrote “Your Sunshine” at the end in neat cursive. She ripped the paper from the rest and folded into a perfect square. She held it up to her and kissed it gently. She walked to the kitchen, placing the note next to the coffee machine that she’d know the woman would eventually wander to. She looked around the room one more time before stepping through the back door. 

She sat down on the outside steps and took a deep breath. She rested her elbows on her knees and brought her hands up to cover her face. She finally took a moment to let go, crying into her hands, the tears collecting in her palm. She knew that she couldn’t bear to evaporate into thin air or whatever would happen at her home. She felt like that would be like her mom losing her twice, even if she didn’t see her. 

She snapped her fingers and heard the familiar noise of the waves around her. She let her eyes set on the water furthest from her. Sitting in silence as the grey day consumed her. 

Later that night

Luke’s body drew a subtle hue as he hugged Julie, feeling the strength reenter his body after a near-death after their last performance. The band hugged each other closely, spinning around in a circle at the opportunity for another chance to be around each other. As they separated, Luke looked around the room with wide eyes.

“Hey, where’s Y/N, I know she’s not formally a part of the band...but maybe this will work for her too?”

He looked over to the chair where he normally found her reading and didn’t see her lamp on. He ran over to the other side of the room by the stereo and found nothing. He ran his fingers through his hair as he sprinted back over to his bandmates. 

He jogged back to his bandmates, scratching his head “Did she say she was going somewhere tonight?” 

Before any of them could answer, they heard the turn of wheels near the entrance of the garage. They turned to see the long-haired skater frantically trying to catch his breath. His eyes darted between all of the boys eyes before he met Luke’s, fighting the tears he already felt coming. 

“Willie, what’s going on?” Alex asked, approaching the boy.

Willie looked up at Alex with tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip before speaking to the group.

“She didn’t want me to tell you guys, but my heart can’t take you all not knowing. I think Y/N is gone.”

Luke scoffed, pointing at the empty room behind him “Yeah, I just tried to look for her-”

Wille interrupted him, swallowing hard “No...she’s gone gone.” 

Luke’s face moved to a scowl, approaching the man with his fists balled “What do you mean? What the hell did you do?”

Wille pressed backward, and Alex intervened, pushing against Luke’s chest to separate the boys. The skater put a hand on Alex’s shoulder and moved him out of the way to meet Luke’s angry expression again.

“I didn’t do anything. SHE came to me this afternoon and asked about completing unfinished business. She told me she had to do this. She said something about it being her last hope.” Luke felt his eyes fill with water. He turned away from the group and slammed his hand against the wall, knowing well that it would bruise his knuckles.  

He screamed out in anguish before moving back over to her seat on the couch. His bandmates watched as he terrorized the room, ripping papers and pushing over furniture. Willie moved forward to try to console him but Alex’s arm rose, blocking the boy from walking forward. Alex nodded at his bandmates and Willie, the four of them leaving the boy alone in the room. 

Luke noticed a neat little square of paper sitting on top of the last book she read. He picked it up and saw his name written in her perfect penmanship. he sat down in her chair and wiped his tears aways on his ruffled top, steadying his breathing before unraveling the piece of paper. 

“Luke,

I didn’t want to do this, but I think leaving will be the best thing for my heart. I hope that your work with Julie gives you and the boys the second chance that you all deserve. I have never been prouder of you and no one in this world and afterlife deserves another shot of happiness like you do. I hope Julie takes care of your heart because I know that you deserve so much love,  I hope she’s willing to give that to you for as long as she can. Thank you for being my first friend, my first ‘boss’, and....my first love. I hope you never forget me because I know that it will be very difficult for me to forget you.

Love,

Your Sugar, Y/N”

He didn’t notice that he was crying until a few rogue tears hit the paper, drenching the words. He read the words “first love” several more times before folding it back up into her perfect square. He brought the note up to his lips and kissed it gently before holding it to where his heart used to beat. He looked up at the ceiling and whispered “I love you so much, I’m so sorry Sugar” to the air around him, letting the tears continue to fall as he sat in silence.

.

.

.

.

Tag list: @xplrreylo​ @lovesanimals​, @anythingandeverythingfandom​, @crybabyddl​, @oswin05​, @joshy-obx​, @lukeys-giggle​, @bumbleberry-pie​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​  @marinettepotterandplagg​, @lolychu​, @bathtimejish​, @dasexydevitt13​ @musicconversedance​, @txrii​  @bestdressedandstressed​ @daisiesforlacey​  @epikskool​  @bookfrog247​ @carleywhittaker​ @princessvader15​ @rudysbay​ @spooky-season-bitch

[evak-fic-rec-turtleanon]

Evak Fics - Pining

I’m posting half of this list first because I started it a long time ago and it’s taking me a while to go through all the fics. So I will update with more later. 

*** Mutual Pining *** Pining - I might put mutual pining under pining if we don't see much of the other person pining. *** Bonus - The pining is not between Evak 

For the anon from this ask.

I will try my best to separate out the mutual pining fics but I think it will be tricky if it's not tagged as that. So bear with me and let me know of any mistakes or fics I missed out on.

. First Posting : 11 July 2021. Under 15k fics.  .

******* Mutual Pining *******

Even the Illustrator by eavk (SERIES, 3 fics) - An AU where Even’s an illustrator who draws what kids describe to him for YouTube, and Isak is the smitten father of a six year old with a wild imagination.

Postcards by HedwigsTalons (1k words) - Isak's wall is covered in postcards. Isak is supportive of Even's career and he cherishes every postcard but the long distance relationship hurts.

Feelings Come and Go, But Not With You by ultimatelawrence (1.9k words) - It was meant to just be a holiday romance. A fling. Nothing like love. But now it was six months later and Even was still pining over the angel he had met in Paris.

let's pretend into forever by Bellakitse (2.3k words) - “Let me get this straight,” Even starts. “You lied to your boss about having a boyfriend, told her it was me, and now you need me to go with you to your science nerd dinner?”

i will love you until the very, very end (and you were my best friend) by traumatic (2.4k words) - Isak and Even share something in the cool waters of a spring fed pool that no one, not even their fiancées, could ever understand.

Breathe Me by photographer_of_thoughts (4.5k words) - A high school reunion brings Isak and Even together after ten years, and neither of them can forget what happened when they were both seventeen.

Everything comes back to you by MermaidsandMermen (4.8k words) - Light pining. A dribble oneshot for Halloween, full of fluff and Even and Isak and a tiny pinch of angst. Because we need some Halloween fluff. That's all.

Fuck Tha Police by MacksDramaticShenanigans (5.2k words) - “This,” Eskild said, spinning the photograph around so everyone could see it, “is a picture of the latest piece of vandalism from our favorite little street punk.” he finished with a heavy sigh. They are both cops.

i tried to be strong but i lost it (i knew it was wrong, i’m beyond it) (6.3k words) - Even has a thing for his intern, Isak has a thing for his boss, they're both a bit clueless and their friends just want them to get their shit together.

all I see is you by littlemovie (Lejla) (7.4k words) - “Aren’t you gonna ask me why I’m a bad person?” Isak somehow whined and demanded at the same time. Jonas blew out a breath in amusement, which made the dark curls on his forehead move with his breath. “I’m guessing it has something to do with that guy, Even, from the coffeeshop?”

Addicted by endlessandinfinite (8k words) - They’re both completely, overwhelmingly, and incredibly...addicted. Best friends to lovers.

Calleth You, Cometh I by Kollakolan (8.4k words) - “Isak!” Mikaels pipes up. “Didn´t you two have a thing?” he turns to Even. A thing, Even thinks to himself. Yes, Isak and him definitely had a thing. They actually had a low-key thing going for years, but it never really turned into something more. The timing was never right.

In Vino Veritas by Sabeley (9.9k words) - After seven years apart, Isak wakes up to find Even in his bed and a wedding ring on his finger.

Let Me by GayaIsANerd (10.6k words) - Summer brings a lot of things. The smell of sunscreen. The sound of children playing in the shallow part of the lake. The taste of cold beer. The sweet tang of weed. But most importantly, summer brings Isak.

Something Borrowed, Something Blue by BluebeardsWife (10.8k words) - Fake dating AU, you know the drill. Even hires Isak to pretend to be his boyfriend at his ex's wedding. This Means Nothing to Me by cuteandtwisted (10.8k words) - Isak and Even are friends and roommates who don't believe in love anymore (after they both get dumped by other people) until they do. Aka the Friends/Roommates-To-Lovers Don't you let me go by solarpower21 (12.2k words) - In this universe, Isak and Even are roomates and nothing more. Except that there is something more between them and they both know that but are too stubborn to admit it. Too bad it takes a very unfortunate event for them to face the truth. Burn Down The Disco by TheGirlNoOneKnows5 (12.2k words) - A 'Black Mirror: Hang The DJ' AU in which Isak and Even decide to rebel against a futuristic dating system that pairs users up with various people in order to find their perfect match.

La Petite Mort by EvenbechNeiheim (13.4k words) - Even Bech Næsheim is one of those cool and very hot media students at Uni who might just got the task to make a film project. Eskild is the best wingman and things like accidently falling in love with an asshole media student happen. Based on the FIRST KISS YouTube video that gave the internet an entire meltdown. 

when your heart is bleeding, i'm coming to get you by orphan_account (13.5k words) - Isak doesn't exactly expect his hookup from last week to be the love advice columnist at the school newspaper he's working at. He also doesn't expect to fall even harder for him than he already has, which is a shame, really, since Even's crushing on someone else. 

Heal My Heart for Christmas by iwritetropesnottragedies (recklesslee) (13.5k words) - It’s been ten years since Isak left his small town for the big city of Oslo with his father. He hardly even thought of his time there anymore. Until he received a letter from his mother asking him to come home for Christmas for the first time since he had left. 

Love in the Time of COVID: Battlestar Edition by sweetasmaple (14k words) - Isak and Even find each other again during the COVID-19 lockdown, one Battlestar Galactica episode at a time. 

.

******* Pining *******

never seemed so alive by retts (1k words) - Nothing special, just four letters strung together to spell out E V E N but they made Isak's heart race and his face blush and his hands tremble.

Hopeless by waitineedaname (1k words) - Light pining. There was no way in hell Isak would be able to talk to Even. He was tall and cool and handsome, and Isak was pretty sure talking to him would make him spontaneously combust.

i could probably just curl up in you. by milominderbinder (1.3k words) - Isak is away at a cabin with the guys when he gets a text from Even. 'hey, babe, did you take my favourite hoodie?' He is, of course, outraged that Even would accuse him of such treachery. The fact that Isak is wearing the hoodie at that very moment has nothing to do with it.

stuck on you (what did i do?) by itjustkindahappened (1.8k words) - It’s not that Even doesn’t try to be friendly with him—Isak just makes it so hard. Whenever Even approaches, Isak either makes up a fumbling excuse to leave, or just becomes really stiff and refuses to acknowledge Even’s existence.

now and forever (i will be your man) by thekardemomme (2.2k words) -Warning for pain. 3 times isak kisses even +1

i be up in the gym just working on my fitness by orphan_account (2.3k words) - Even knows that he's quite literally going to die when he finds his crush sweating on an elliptical, reading a book with his glasses slipping down his nose.

You know where I stay by nofeartina (2.4k words) - Warning for pain. Isak is so beautiful first thing in the morning. When he still has creases in his face from the pillow, when his face is red and puffy from sleep, his hair all messed up and curly. Even prefers this Isak. This is his Isak, this is only for him.

won't you be my livewire by itjustkindahappened (3.2k words) - "i've been tryin to grab your attention in class for over half an hour by poking you and throwing things onto your desk and you're refusing to acknowledge me and gdi all i wanted to do was tell you that you look cute and now it's gone too far and i can't go back"

Cookies and Cream by GayaIsANerd (3.5k words) - Isak has a crush on the barista. He's too scared to do anything about it, but luckily there's a blizzard coming up.

i can feel the weather in my bones by EvenbechNeiheim (3.7k words) - Isak and Even are childhood friends. There’s a boyfriend sweater and Isak is just desperate to wear it.

On the silver screen by Lokkanel (4k words) - Isak was really not in the mood for this. He had a long week at work, and all he wanted was to relax with his friend, drink a few beers, maybe even smoke some weed and just chill. But no. When Jonas called him to say that he won tickets to the coolest indie film festival in Oslo, Isak knew he could forget his plans for a quiet and simple weekend.

I want to love you (in my own language) by fauu_stine (4k words) - “Okay. Maybe I’m not happy,” he admits in a resigned whisper. “Do you need a shrink discussion or a best friend discussion?” "I think- I think it’s more of a friend with benefits kind of talk."

Don't be an ass by Julieseven (4.1k words) - Even really tried to forget about him. It started out as a harmless little crush, really. He saw him at the karaoke bar SYNG one night, singing "I don't want to miss a thing" at the top of his lungs, clearly drunk out of his mind, but looking like an angel with his messy dark blond locks and crooked smile.

Little Black Book by Laika (4.3k words) - Isak Valtersen is studying his third year at the University of Oslo and having the time of his life. Enter Evy Bech Næsheim, straight out of Nissen, in his stockings, mini skirts and bubblegum scented lip gloss.

cracks in our foundation by towonderland72 (4.8k words) - “You know, like a thousand years ago, men used to wear makeup?” Even asks, as Isak gapes at himself.

Safest With You (Green Curtains) by eavk (5.3k words) - Isak keeps staying up too late studying at the library, but luckily there's an escort service that gives students a buddy to walk with to keep safe at night.

the one with the prom video by thekardemomme (5.5k words) - Even has been in love with Isak since they were younger, but he never intended for Isak to find out this way.

Senses by Lokkanel (5.5k words) - Sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste… Or Even falling in love with Isak, one sense at a time.

you're the one i wanna grey with (5.6k words) - They've only been dating a month, so Isak shouldn't be pathetic enough to miss Even this much when he's only gone for a weekend.

Orion's Nebula by thekardemomme (5.6k words) - Light pining I think. Even Bech Næsheim was enrolled in an astronomy class for one reason and one reason only: the cute ass boy he saw standing in the registration line.

with the taste of a poison paradise by chasingflower (6k words) - It’s routine by now. Isak hangs out with his friends during the day and at night he kisses the Dream-Even that lives on the other side of the door in his living room, and basks in the warm fuzzy feelings he gets as a result of the attention. Coraline Au.

How to Get Your Man - A Plan By Even Bech Naesheim by Evakkk (6.1k words) - When Magnus drops a big secret in front of Even... Even comes up with a brilliant plan to get Isak to reveal his true feelings. All it takes is one little lie, and one crazy family reunion.

To Burn With Desire by photographer_of_thoughts (6.1k words) - AU in which Isak and Even are neighbours and Isak's father has a secret job that unintentionally helps Isak realize he's in love with his best friend.

Watermelon Sugar by MermaidsandMermen (6.6k words) - A little tribute to fruit and touching. To sex, and friendships and finding what you were looking for all along. And of course inspired by Harry Styles latest video offering, just because.

The Fake Boyfriend App by Crazyheart (7.2k words) - AU where Isak is desperately pining for his flatmate Even, and downloads a fake boyfriend app to get over him. When he discovers that the Fake boyfriend is a human, and not a bot, he is sceptical.

That look you give that guy by Lokkanel (7.4k words) - Isak and Even love each other in secret. It is almost thrilling at first, but when hiding and lying to their friends begin to take a toll on Even, Isak decides to end it all. He thinks he has taken the right decision, until Even eventually moves on with someone else.

my longing drives me crazy for you (7.7k words) - Isak's mum worries, Isak makes bad life decisions and Even loves Isak. It's a fake dating au.

I'm Always Here by nofeartina (9.3k words) - “Did you know that Even is working this summer? At that pool at the Plaza?” Jonas says. Isak actually sits up in excitement at this. “Fuck yeah!” Oh, a pool. Actual water they could go swimming in and cool down. And also, Even.

a garden for your love by eggsntoast (9.3k words) - He’s learning to breathe with them, even if he ends up with a floor full of violets by the end of it all. They remind Isak of him, and that’s all that matters. That’s what makes it worse. or: a Hanahaki au ft. Isak heavily pining after Even. Lots of angst.

I wrote an angry letter to the void, and the void responded (9.5k words) - Monday comes, and the book is still there. Isak looks around, content to find the floor practically empty, before giving the book the finger. Fuck that book. - a book finds it's way to Isak's sacred study spot. this proves to be a major distraction.

a constant state of closeness by chevythunder (9.7k words) - “What is it about this dude, anyway?” Elias asks. “You’ve barely even talked to him, right?” “I don’t know,” Even says. “I just got this feeling, you know? Just- I want to make sure he’s okay and safe and… stuff.” - It starts with a hug.

Is This Our Time? by Evakkk (9.9k words) - This is a world where everyone is born with an indistinguishable soulmate mark... it only changes into something recognizable, once you have physical contact with your soulmate, and it's always something meaningful to the relationship. Both partners will bear the same mark. Isak is about to turn 18... and he's the only one in his friend group who still hasn't found their soulmate. But what happens when he goes out one night, gets drunk... and wakes up with his soulmate mark?

Is This What You Wanted? by cuteandtwisted (9.9k words) - Isak is filthy rich and Even is a hardworking male model who just got signed to his father's agency. Even gets an awful offer from Isak: one night with him in exchange for money, and begins to despise him. Little does he know that everything he thinks he knows about Isak is wrong.

Just like in the movies by Lokkanel (10.5k words) - As he began taking in his surroundings, Isak realized he was in one of those small theaters that programmed independent and artsy movies, even old black and white films. He was ready to turn around and walk away when he heard a deep voice say, “Halla.”

my tiny heartbeat in his ear by riyku (11k words) - Now, about a week after the longest day of the year, the empty house across the street has stopped being empty. most beautiful things by scarletbluebird (12.7k words) - This fic is a whole ass journey. Warning for pain. This isn’t a fairytale, Isak tells himself. Even is standing at the bend in the road. He looks like a metaphor for immortal life: the youth a god would kill for. Ambrosia eyes, the universe trapped in the curve of his mouth. He looks like every warning from his mother about strangers you run into after dark. 

One week by Lokkanel (12.8k words) - This thing going on between Isak and Even, whatever they called it - fuckbuddies, friends with benefits - was simple, fun, nothing more. They were friends, they were both free to do whatever they wanted with other people. They’d just meet and have sex whenever they felt like it. Simple. Until what was bound to happen eventually did and Even fell for Isak. 

Plum by Jamz24 (13.2k words) - Femme!teacher!Even asks masculine! plumber!Isak to fix a broken shower on a scorching hot summer day...And if you think it sounds like the start of a porn film you're absolutely right! There's LOADS of smut but ... with LOTS of feelings 

Never be the same by nofeartina (14.2k words) - It starts with a bet - one of those really stupid ones: can they last an entire month without any kind of sex?It’s been 22 days – and Even is dying. 

Somewhere I’ve never been by MinilocIsland (14.6k words) - The first time Even meets Jonas' best friend, nothing goes according to plan. 

If I Should Fall Behind by MinilocIsland (14.7k words) - The plan for tonight had been crystal clear. Stay close to his best friend, and steal her away if needed. Hold her hand through the ordeal of meeting Noora again for the first time in years. Then Even shows up – and suddenly, nothing goes the way it was supposed to. 

All I Ever Wanted by MinilocIsland (14.8k words) - Isak is such a good friend. Probably the best there is. How else could he explain that he's agreed to join Magnus to this place deep in the woods for six full days of silence, meditation, and utter boredom? One thing, he knows. There's nothing exciting for him there. Right? Or: the silent retreat AU. 

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******* Bonus *******

Season 3: Jonas by Laika_the_husband (WIP, SBB 2021 fic) - There is a scene in the end of the script for season 1, where Jonas and Isak kiss each other on a dare. This story is a retelling of season 3 in a universe, where that kiss happened and completely changed the way Jonas sees Isak. Written in Jonas' POV, the story examines sexuality, love, friendship and coming to terms with never getting the boy you shouldn't have fallen for in the first place.

What the fuck is wrong with me? by notanugget (11.6k words) - The five times isak felt guilty for being in love and the one time he didn’t 

thanks for the weed, thanks for everything by evak1isak (13.1k words) - Jokael. Jonas' dealer has moved to Denmark, and Even recommends his friend's weed. What Jonas didn't expect, though, was to develop a crush on a boy, on Mikael. 

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******* WIP *******

Baby, why do you have to shine so bright? by Lilacpotter - Even knew he was radiant, and he was used to people always wanting to be around him, enchanted by his captivating words and glowing smiles, as if he was the tantalising sun. But then one day, he comes across someone who shines much brighter than the sun itself in Even’s eyes.

Lonely Hearts Club by EndingsNotTheStory - The Hearts Club. A show run by Isak and his 3 friends. He's kind of had enough with hearing about people's relationship issues and giving advice. Until the guy from his theatre class and Isak's totally not crush Even calls, dealing with relationship issues. pining

[my-writings-and-musings]

Could you do Drift and Ravage for the oxygen loss prompt?

I absolutely can do Ravage, our dear kitty deserves the love! Drift can be found in part six below!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Part Thirteen: You're Here!

Ravage

·The tale of how you even became friends with the reclusive and understandably untrusting felicon is as long as it is convoluted, but a good synopsis is that the two of you simply get one another. It doesn't hurt that you always gave him ample personal space and respected his boundaries, and the fact you don't mind meeting up in the vents is a plus for him. Bots are absolutely baffled by your relationship, so avoiding public spaces has become his preferred activity to enjoy with you, if only to be free of the gossip. Equally eager to have peace and quiet, you'd long since found ways to make his favorite spots in the vents into ideal hangouts.

·Unfortunately, today is one of the rare days he has to be away from your side and amongst the crew. On the Bridge there's some kind of trouble, requiring all the commanding officers to be present while it's sorted out, and he refuses to leave Megatron there alone. Primus knows his old friend gets blamed for everything that goes wrong eventually... Yet he's far from focused as the diagnostic scans reveal a confounding bug in the ship's programming. As worrying as it should be, his thoughts drift repeatedly to you, and how much he'd rather be somewhere far less open and bright. Hopefully this will all end soon, and the two of you can curl up somewhere to relax, with his larger body naturally fitting around yours as if made to do so...

·A teasing look from Megatron makes him realize he had allowed his dreamy thoughts to color his face with a ridiculous expression of lovestruck bliss. Pinning back his ears and flushing hot as a star, he can only be grateful no one else seemed to notice. Just as he's debating whether or not to sneak away, there's a commotion amongst the more tech savvy bots. They claim to have found the source of the programming bug; which isn't a bug at all, but a virus. Claws fully unsheathing in preparation for combat, his sense of dread grows exponentially as he puts together what is being said, realizing that something very bad is moments away. Lights flicker in confirmation of his fear. In moments the ship is flashing out a hundred or so alarms, signaling that it is more or less helpless against whatever may happen next.

·You're the first thing he thinks about as countless terrible scenarios begin to play in his mind. Between his hypersensitive hearing and smell he's nearly choked on the panic and fear growing through the Lost Light, but all he wants to focus on is you. A human has precious little in the way of defense, and with every system keeping the ship stable, there's nothing to protect you. The solution is obvious; he has to find you before something else does. When the ground quakes and an incoming transmission threatens the crew he doesn't stick around to hear the enemy gloat. A brief explanation to Megatron is all he offers before taking off, and though he doesn't stick around to see it, his old friend gives him a nod of understanding.

·Distant sounds of metallic warping and the scent of soldering tell him the ship is being breached, but also make it incredibly difficult to pinpoint your location. He's memorized every identifiable feature of yours for moments like this, but the chaos turns the air into a smog of panic, so that it's only the uniqueness of your scent that allows him to find a trail. Faster than most vehicle modes and far more limber, he's an unstoppable blur through the hallways. A path to your shared quarters forms effortlessly in his mind as he passes down the levels.

·Far from your partner, you're still recovering from the bang that shook the entire room you'd been so comfortably set up in. Dazed on the ground, you get your feet beneath you before thoughts return, and the first one is for Ravage. Unfamiliar with space travel, you feel compelled to fear the worst; what if he was too close to whatever just went wrong? Capable as he is, the Felicon isn't immortal. Dead communication lines cement the need for worry in your dizzy head. Careless to the considerable tumble you just endured, you try to think of the best possible response for both your sakes. If he's able to so much as crawl, Ravage will be headed for you, so the best thing to do is make yourself as easy to find as possible. Shallow as that plan may be, it's at least a starting point, and you won't have to go far.

·A trail of claw marks through the hallways marks a tireless and acrobatic flight of barely disguised panic. Ravage takes every possible vent into his olfactory receptors for even the tiniest whiff of you. It's a scent he falls asleep with every night, the familiar yet so unusual mammalian musk soothing him as he curled about your tiny body... Now he's panicking over every tiny whiff, if only because he can't tell if you're really okay. Foreign smells tell of an encroaching enemy spilling into the Lost Light, and from the overpowering rush it appears their numbers are considerable. Some even appear to be moving through the lower levels just a floor or two below... Hulking footsteps that are not Cybertronian register in his sensitive ears, moving with such little grace he can feel them through the floor in his perceptive paws. Anger helps him swallow down some fear. If they want to get between him and his partner, then it's their death wish.

·Finding little to be working reliably, you open the door to your room just wide enough to let you through only after multiple attempts prove unsuccessful. A lifeless but somehow noisy hallway greets you. The sounds of combat are close, or at least, you presume what you're hearing to be combat. Perhaps you hit your head harder than you thought, because thinking through what's going on is far more difficult than it should be. Holding onto the wall for support, you try desperately to think of a plan. Ravage could be anywhere, and with no way to reach him, it's impossible to plan a meet up or even attempt to learn of his status. Yet... these dire thoughts don't invoke the panic they should. It's growing impossible to even stand on your own, and without meaning to you start to lean more of your body against the wall...

·Ravage inevitably is faced with a foe he cannot evade, and for your sake, he charges forward. There's a group of them, all gathered in the only hallway that will take him quickly to your location. He can feel the heat of energy weapons simmering in the air by the time he's upon them. With the element of surprise he's able to unleash incredible damage in his first attack, claws and fangs tearing through protective armor to kill one and severely wound another before they even realize they're being attacked. Bounding between their hulking forms, he faces the one disadvantage he's always endured through combat; his enemies far outscale him. Though his need to protect as well as survive turns him into a living blender, a well placed and simply lucky strike makes painful contact with his back, cracking the armor and bringing forth a spattering of energon.

·Recovering with the aid of his own anger to fuel the final attacks, he fights on with the wound agonizing him all the while, sinking his fangs in deep to take care of the final enemy. It isn't until the last body thunders to the floor that his legs temporarily give way. He's in need of medical attention, but he doesn't dare slow down, or even get a moment of rest. Shaking legs push defiantly to get him upright, and for once he's able to be grateful to have four. The ragged pace he resumes with is only as fast as it is because he knows he's close, as your scent is now clear despite the warring smells of blood and a million other unpleasant odors. Even if all he can do is collapse by your side and keep you company, it will be enough...

·Time seems to stand still when he sees you slumped over by the doorway to the room you two share. Though you're without injuries and the iron rich smell of human blood is undetectable, he knows something is very wrong, and though every motion hurts he bounds to your side. Crying out your name, he gently nudges you with a careful muzzle. Warmth and the rythym of your heart quell his greatest fears just before you open your eyes. Not quite awake, you can only be relieved to see him again, far too out of it to be afraid. At his insistence to move you express a desire to rest instead. No amount of encouragement can seem to make you realize the danger, and thus he's forced to make the decision to move you himself, even if he's in bad shape himself. Clearly, you need more help than he can give.

·You go along as best you can when he insists you ride on his back, and it's only your considerable experience doing so in the past that makes it possible now. He tries to think through the pain, but has little luck imagining what could possibly have done this to you, and his efforts to do so are hampered further as he begins to limp forward. Between energon loss and exhaustion and fear he knows things are looking grim. It tears at him more aggressively than any wound ever could, particularly as he feels you growing weaker against him, and all he can do is beg for you to hold on. You want to, but with his body so close and the rocking of his steps, how can you resist the urge to sleep? Surely everything will be fine when you wake... It's too much for him to endure when you slip into unconsciousness, and his legs give out beneath him. Failure burns in his spark as he tries in vain to keep going, his inability to save you haunting his exhausted body as footsteps draw near.

·It's by fortune he has rarely experienced that you're happened upon by a group of bots led by Megatron. He forces himself to stay awake for your sake, refusing to let anyone separate you so long as you need care. The blur of the medical bay brings comfort only briefly, as when he's informed of the reason behind your struggle he's nearly torn apart by guilt. Seeing you with your oxygen mask confirms his failure to protect the one he holds dearest to his spark. Withdrawing from the world, he allows himself to be patched up before curling himself around your tiny body, all but shielding you from the universe so intent on hurting you both.

·The warmth of his frame so frequently is your first sensation upon waking that you don't realize something is off at first. It isn't until you feel the mask on your face that you remember what happened, but by then Ravage is gently tapping his muzzle against you to confirm everything feels alright. Without promoting, he gives a quick rundown of what led up to this moment. You're wide eyed as he explains the ship's atmospheric shutdown, particularly when he gets to the part where he tried to carry you to safety... The apathy as he recounts it all, however, is far from fitting. Laying a gentle hand on a paw, you ask if something happened that bothered him, and receive confirmation from his silent expression of sadness.

·Initially, he can't bring himself to say what's wrong. On the surface he knows his actions were reasonable, but in his spark... he's so afraid of how his own inability to save you nearly resulted in tragedy. Just the thought of losing you is terrifying enough, but having nearly faced it has rocked him to his core, and he sits in silence under the weight of those emotions. Mercifully, you can read him well enough to not need words. Ravage has always withdrawn when upset, and few things agonize him more than failure.

·Gently as you can, you encourage him to come close, pulling his helm as near to your lap as possible. The sadness in his optics nearly breaks your heart, but you're confident as you speak, thanking him for what he did to save you and insisting you wouldn't be here without him. When he briefly tries to protest, you point out that he likely wouldn't be injured had it not been for you, and he quickly replies that you're worth any scars. When you retort that you feel the same way about him, a small amount of weight appears to leave his shoulders. He recalls that the best part of loving you has always been the freedom to exist as he is, free of pressure, and that he can't be a failure in your eyes so long as he tries. It's simply easy to forget that sometimes... Allowing himself a purr, he uses his tail to most effectively wrap you in his protective body, intent on keeping the both of you safe and warm for some much needed rest. So long as you have each other, there's nothing that can't be overcome.

[kosmosguk]

Fôret de Cauchemars (M)

Pairing: sleep psychiatrist kim namjoon x reader

Word Count: 6.3K

Summary: Plagued by nightmares of your boyfriend’s death, you turn to sleep psychiatrist Kim Namjoon for help. What you find in him is condolence in your isolated world, a ray of sunlight breaking through gaps of rotting leaves. What you find in him is a dream, a beautiful dream, until that dream shatters to reveal the true nightmare underneath. Sometimes, nightmares seamlessly blend into reality, and, unfortunately, waking up simply won’t make them go away anymore.  

Warnings: Yandere themes, death, murder, mature themes (bondage, cunnilingus, unprotected sex), smut, violence, kidnapping, self-loathing, psychological disorders, manipulation,  mentions of suicide, gore 

A/N: Finally back with a fic in a...month? Sorry for the delay; the work load of classes this year has been a real bonk to the vibes, but hopefully testing out a oneshot fic will get me back in the writing energy. Happy fall, and maybe (just maybe) we’ll vibe it up with a new spooky series featuring our beloved yandere bangtan boys! Dedicated to Namjoon’s birthday (although it’s been weeks), and hopefully Jungkook’s birthday fic will be up next. Unfortunately, this means next release of Lineage might not be until October/early November, but I hope you guys stick around!

You didn’t quite know when the nightmares began.

They were unconscious little pricks of fear, the kind that crawled under your skin into your skull and left you with a cold sweat and rapid heartbeat. You always forgot them when you woke up, but their influence was engraved into your bones and etched in every sleep-deprived jolt of paranoia and every accusatory glance you threw to your empty surroundings. You felt eyes on you, even though the remnants of your fading rationality knew that there was nothing there.

Each night filled with the conflict of battling off your body’s desire to sleep left you even more exhausted and even more terrified of some nameless entity that your sleepless mind had conjured up.

The nightmares did not stop. They refused to stop; you knew you needed to solve it somehow. That brought you to the moment of now, in the present, across from a sleep psychiatrist in an office with an air condition system that blew cold gusts of air against the back of your neck and left bumps of goosebumps rising up on your skin.

You curled in on yourself, picking at the ends of your sleeves until the threads became loose, as the sound of rustling paper flipping between your sleep psychiatrist’s fingers filled up the gaps of your sleep-deprived mind. You tentatively threw a glance at the man across from you.

If you weren’t nearly irrational from the lack of sleep, you would’ve been able to truly appreciate how handsome the man was. He was the kind of handsome that artists drew portraits and sculpted of and poets waxed long pages of sonnets about. With smoky gray hair slicked back, eyes curved elegantly behind silver-rimmed glasses, and a sharp mouth set back in a firm expression, Dr. Kim was the type of beautiful that you found in every sharp edge of an icicle.

However, it was unnerving how familiar you felt with his beauty.

“(Y/n) (L/n), correct?’’

His voice, a baritone that encased the chilly office air, drew you back into your blurry reality. You heard a soft click as he turned on his stopwatch. The soft ticking noise reverberated in the still room, just a tinge louder than the blast of the air conditioning. You nodded your head mutely before reaching up to rub at your sore, burning eyes.

“Yes…,” you fought back a yawn, and your words slurred a bit as tears prickled your eyes,” Sorry…’m jus’ tired.”

His gaze, previously neutral, softened a bit more at your pitiful state.

“Though it is currently difficult right now, we’ll work through any psychological stressors that may be causing your nightmares. When did the nightmares begin?’’

You blinked owlishly at him—well, you were more like a raccoon than an owl with how severe your dark circles were, though that was a jab of humor your dwindling mind allowed you on only rare occasions—as you tried to register his words.

“Hmm,’’ you rolled your shoulders back, and a dull ache throbbed through your body as you stretched it,” I don’t…really remember. I don’t remember a lot of things now. Can’t even remember what I did yesterday… Maybe…a couple months ago? They weren’t…weren’t as bad as they are now, so I didn’t really pay attention to them.”

“Have you tried any over the counter sleep medications?’’

You scratched your neck.

Tick, tick, tick.

“Tried a few, but the nightmares didn’t seem to go away. Woke up…,” you shook yourself as if to demonstrate,” cold sweat and everything after a bit. Nightmares came right away, which is weird cause I don’t think I’m even asleep long enough to enter REM.”

“We’ll try a stronger prescription to see if it’ll help you sleep better. Has there been any troubling situations lately? Some time before the nightmares started, right when they started, or even ongoing ones?’’

You blinked again, your eyelids scraping against your dry eyes.

“Hmm…Someone, uh, passed away… My boyfriend? Maybe these nightmares are about losing him, but I dunno…can’t remember them.”

“Would you like to talk more about this?’’ Though his tone was more gentle, Dr. Kim had a look in his eyes that seemed even more chilling than the artificially generated wind against your skin.

You didn’t pay attention. It took you a lot more effort to pay attention to things nowadays and noticing tiny almost unnoticeable things was even more difficult.

“Yeah…It was tough that time. He disappeared, and they found his body. Said he killed himself, but, uh,’’ you tugged even harder on the loose threads, your eyes glued to them,’’ I didn’t even notice the signs…”

“Do you blame yourself for what happened?’’

You blinked once and then twice and then thrice. You could not look at Dr. Kim, but there was a strange shift in the air. Maybe it was a delusional mix of emotions and sleep deprivation. Maybe it was something more. You settled on the former.

The next words came out a bit more choked than you wanted them to. You thought you might’ve cried if you weren’t already so mentally and physically exhausted.

“Yeah…I was his girlfriend. Shoulda seen the signs, but I was busy, and we were drifting apart…,” you bitterly mumbled,” No excuse, though. I have no excuses…”

A silence settled between the two of you. You felt like you had just bored some piece that you had crammed in your soul so tight that it drifted into your thoughts like a second poison. You were so tired; you wanted to tuck yourself into the leather chair and fall asleep to avoid how vulnerable you felt. You noticed him level his steady gaze on you.

“No one can see the signs. People are good at hiding the worst things affecting them, even from those they care for deeply and who care for them deeply. You can’t continue to blame yourself for events in the past that cannot be changed and let that blame affect the you of the present and the future. (Y/n), the first way to conquer your nightmares is to forgive yourself.”

For the first time in the meeting, you raised your gaze to meet Dr. Kim’s gaze straight on. Your eyes, vulnerable and holding onto a devastatingly deep sorrow, were surprised to see that the look in Dr. Kim’s eyes was not as pulled together as his words were. But maybe, as you unconsciously tugged on another thread so hard that it yanked out of your sweater sleeve and drifted to your lap, that was just another one of your delusions.

Dr. Kim’s words resonated throughout your mind on your commute home. They bore a weight on your mind as you slowly shuffled throughout the rest of your day, and they rang even stronger as you laid in bed.

When you closed your eyes, you felt yourself drifting off into the land of unconsciousness. You were running in a forest, clumps of dead grass, rotting leaves, and mud staining the soles of your feet, and your breath gusted out in sharp white puffs of air. The dew of the forest left a sheen on your skin as the wind brushing against your body chilled you to the bone. Underneath the whistle of the wind, you could hear the sound of something ticking.

Tick, tick, tick.

Something grabbed your ankle, sending you sprawling to the forest floor, and you threw a frantic glance at what had yanked you down. Tears built in your eyes and dripped down your cheeks. You were trying to push yourself off the floor to keep running, but the branches and roots of the trees of the forest broke out from the floor and wrapped tight around your trembling form, pinning your quaking body to the muddy ground.

You saw a glimpse of a hand and part of an arm extending itself from the forest floor, dirt crusted under the fingernails and staining the crevices of the palm. The forest floor opened up, dirt jaggedly fragmenting and cracking open, as the body behind the hand emerged. You watched, petrified from your spot to the floor. The head pushed out from the forest floor first, and your eyes made contact with the sunken eyes of your dead boyfriend. You were screaming now, your voice hoarse, but no sound coming out. The ticking sound grew louder and louder, and you were crying even harder.

He was so pale that the moonlight trickled through his almost translucent skin, a corpse that dragged itself to the land of the living, and his dark hair was matted to his forehead. There was a sticky glint to the side of his head where his hair looked more clumped. You forced yourself to tear your gaze away from it.

“Why…Why did you leave me behind?’’ his voice was like a haunting croak. You could speak now, and your voice pitched into a petrified scream.

“I didn’t mean to…! I didn’t mean to! You told me to run! You told me to run!’’ your voice broke out of your throat, and it grew and grew in an unruly crescendo. “I’m so sorry! I should’ve never left you behi-“

You drew in a sharp inhale that suffocated you, leaving the last words still on your lips as you woke up in your bed. The chill of the forest left you; you were in your bed again, the sheets and blanket messily wrapped around your body. You had been thrashing in your sleep, sending pillows down onto the floor. The room was still dark, just a few moments before dawn. You got up, the cold sweat on your body leaving you breathless, and you blindly reached down to grab your pillows and throw them back onto your bed. Instead of touching the slippery silk covers of your pillows, your fingers met something soft and cuddly.

Your fingers wrapped around a tiny, stuffed arm, and you pulled up what the item was.

A scream tore out of your lips as you threw away the item. It was the stuffed bunny your boyfriend had given you the night of your first anniversary, the last night you had seen your boyfriend before he had pushed you to keep running; this was the very item you had dropped in your run out of the forest. You had left it there.

Why, why was it here?

Your head was hurting, and you dropped the plush animal back onto the ground. You hadn’t noticed the faint blood stains. Its faux fur was too dark for you to make out the splashes of dried brown red.

No, no, what do you mean you left it there? You never went in a forest. Your boyfriend overdosed. They found his body. You weren’t there; you were at home working— You sagged against your bed as your head pounded in throbbing agony.

No, you were here. You were here, waiting for him. It was your first anniversary. He was late. He never came home. You had gotten angry and had called him several times. And then…And then, you got the phone call the next morning that they found his dead body. He killed himself. You forcibly repeated that until it was ingrained in your head, and your breathing slowed down.

The next time you woke up, the sun was blindingly warm against your face, but the nightmare had already left your body cold long before.

You were seated across from Dr. Kim again. The dark circles were even worse today, and you fought back a yawn as he clicked his pen and pressed the tip against the pristine white of his notepad. You watched through watery eyes as your name elegantly swirled out in ink on the notepad.

“I’ve been sleeping the most I’ve ever had in a while, so, uh…Hah, would that even qualify as a perk?’’ you smiled weakly,” And I can remember my nightmares now, though that in itself is exhausting me more than the nights before the remembering ever could.”

His pen stopped right at the second curve of your name. He raised an eyebrow, his demeanor still as composed as ever. He was listening. He was the only one who would listen to you now. Well, you suppose he was the only one who listened because you were paying him for each second of his time.

“That’s good to hear. Remembering your nightmares can help us continue to identify and potentially reduce the impact of your psychological stressor. Continue to talk about them. What do you see?’’

“Uh,’’ you yawned this time, your yawn so big that it cracked your jaw and filled your eyes with tears,’’ They’re a little vague.’’

“It’s okay. You’ve made progress.”

“Mmm…if you say so.’’ You scratched your wrist, your gaze on the skin,” Well…I’m in a forest. Super scary. I think it’s the one they found my boyfriend in. And I’m running. And, uh, a hand comes out and grabs my ankle, and I try to break free…but…but I can’t, the trees are coming and they’re wrapping so tight…I can’t breathe.”

Your words sped up, and you didn’t know you were choking on your own breath until you let out a strangled cough at the last word.

“Keep on going.”

“And I—,’’ you’re tearing up now, sobbing slightly as you force the next words out through ragged breaths,” I look over, and it’s him! It’s him! He’s there! He’s climbing out…and he’s asking me why. Why! I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!’’

Your voice heightened in its pitch, and you were just a whisper below a full-on yell. Your shoulders shook, trembling as the tears spilled out and splashed against your cheeks and dripped down your chin, and you were curling further into yourself as you fought to inhale a deep breath. Dr. Kim was out of his chair, his hands stroking your shoulder gently, and he was soothing you. He was holding you now. You buried your head into the collar of his shirt, staining the cloth with tears and snot.

This wasn’t professional, but Dr. Kim made no move to get away, and you didn’t care that you were probably violating some doctor-patient code of conduct rule. It had been so long since someone held you and stroked your back so kindly.

When you finally broke away from the hug to look at Dr. Kim, Dr. Kim brushed the drying tears off of your cheek, his finger glistening with your tears. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. This was wrong. Not only professionally, but your boyfriend…You couldn’t move on from him. But you couldn’t push away the only hand that was willing to dry your tears.

You somehow managed to look at him, your cheeks feeling hot, and you shakily whispered,” I’m…I’m sorry.”

Who were you apologizing to? Dr. Kim for having a mental breakdown, though his job in the very first place was to help you with mental breakdowns? Your dead boyfriend, who was rotting away 6 feet under for finding solace in another man? Or you, poor innocent you who had suffered so much?

He tenderly smiled at you, the warm look strange compared to his usual stony expression but oh so comforting.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s normal.” He cleared his throat, his expression turning cold again, and he was back in his leather chair.

Somehow, although the two of you had resumed as if was normal, you knew something had changed. Maybe it was when his arms were wrapped around your trembling form, his touch warming up your freezing body, or maybe it was the very moment you had sat down on the sofa across from him just a few minutes ago.

Or maybe, maybe something was different between the two of you all along.

You had the same nightmare again that very night. Well, it was not like it ever really changed, not when your psychological state of mind seemed to seek its purpose in rattling every single nerve in your poor body. But something seemed even more worse than usual in your dream.

The scent of mildew was the same, damply settling on the back of your tongue and in your throat, and you could smell something rotting underneath the sickly-sweet scent. However, that wasn’t what was off in your dream.

You weren’t running for the first time. No rapid breath escaped you; your chest rose and fell in even beats. That was your first indication that something was terribly wrong.

What a horrible irony bestowed upon you.

Your fears were confirmed when you heard something small and thin and sharp snap underfoot, and you turned slowly. Your mouth fell open in horror at the sight.

There was a skeleton, one with ivory bones that gleamed underneath the waxy moonlight, and something told you that that skeleton was your boyfriend. Your gaze darted to what made that terrible crackling sound: a foot clad in a leather shoe against the delicate bone wrist of your boyfriend’s postmortem state. Your eyes trailed up and up and up until they settled onto the face of the perpetrator.

“Dr. Kim?’’ the dream you, despite the roaring screams of your thoughts, smiled a coquettish one that stretched almost painfully on your face. You took steps forward, the mud staining your bare feet, and you felt bone snap and crackle and crumble underneath your weight as you got closer and closer, and Dr. Kim laughed as he swept you up in his arms and left a loving kiss on your lips.

“My beloved,’’ his hands trailed to your waist. You felt the bone underneath your feet turn into a mass of bloody flesh and bone. There was a streak of red carnage on Dr. Kim’s face that you hadn’t noticed before,” Oh, how I adore you.”

“Dr. Kim,’’ you whispered playfully into the side of his neck,” Dr. Kim, touch me.”

His fingertips brushed underneath your skirt, toying with the fabric of your panties, and you let out a breathy sigh of laughter as you opened your legs further. A squelch of flesh and blood underneath the soles of your feet accompanied your movement. As you looked up, your eyes tenderly swept his face and took in his features.

His handsome features, his strong jaw and his softly curved lips and the indents in his cheeks dappled underneath the romantic pale moonlight peeking through the trees, looked absolutely maniacal. His voice was amused, and it swathed the crisp air of the forest in a breathy husk that left you shivering in both pleasure and thrill.

“It’s what I’ve been waiting for all along, my beloved.”

You woke up with a start. Your pajamas were sticking to your body in a feverish sweat, and you pushed yourself up and off the bed. Your body was unused to the sudden movement, and your legs froze, sending you to a tumble to the floor.

“What the,” you stayed there on the floor, unable to move. Your breath was heightened and came out in shallow pants through your dry lips. “What the absolute fuck?’’

When you finally managed to get off the floor and onto shaky legs that trembled to hold your weight, your first action was to call the office and cancel your upcoming appointment with Dr. Kim. You didn’t mind the large fee that came from this cancellation; even the thought of seeing him after what had transpired between the two of you in both reality and the imaginary world left you disgusted with yourself. You could feel the aching throb in between your legs, a neediness still settled in your veins, and the wet spot you left on your pantie. Bile rose up in your throat as your mind engulfed in self-loathing.

You turned off your phone and threw it onto your bed. It bounced off and landed by your feet on the carpet. You swallowed a shriek of ragged frustration before getting up in quick desperate movements. The uncomfortable drag of the fabric of your panties seemed to remind you only more of your shame. You felt dirty.

You needed to be clean.

You stepped into the tub, turned on the faucet, and silently stood there as the shower sprayed cold water onto your still-clothed body. Inhaling a sharp breath, you closed your eyes again.

“I’m so sorry.”

Looking back, you wondered to yourself, what were you even sorry for? Wouldn’t it have been better to be sorry for yourself?

Perhaps it wouldn’t have ended the way it did if you had done that instead. But you’ll never know now. It was too late.

The echo of the clock ticking seemed to sound over the rush of cold water. Each click and swing brushed against the other, softly like the wind that brushed through the leaves and the branches and the trees and by the roots that bounded your feet to the dirt.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

You couldn’t keep cancelling your appointments.

Some part of you didn’t want to. You hated that part of you. But it was ingrained in you. Some part of you was addicted to Dr. Kim, addicted to the way he had tenderly held you, to the way his fingers had felt against the soft skin of your cheek as he wiped away acrid tears.

You were sitting across from him again. The soft, almost inaudible but painfully audible to you ticking of his wristwatch echoed in the silent room. There was no notepad in his hands again, nor rustling of paper forms between slender fingers to fill up the tension in the room; there was only his gaze rested on you. You couldn’t breathe.

You were yanking on the threads of your sweater again. The threads, loosened, snagged on your nails, and you dropped the soft material with a mental huff of displeasure. The setting of the sun outside of the window drowned the both of you in a peaceful warm orange hue…but you knew: there’s nothing peaceful going on. Not in your heart, not in the crevices of the office, not in the way Dr. Kim coolly smiled at you as if nothing was wrong…Nothing was peaceful.

“It’s been a while since I’ve last seen you.” If you thought too hard into it, you might have perceived his words as accusatory. But he was just your psychiatrist. There was no way he was going to cross the professional boundary between the two of you. The first time was already a mistake.

Or was it?

“How are you?’’ his words sent a thrill down your spine.

You looked at him through your lashes. You couldn’t seem to think properly when he was so near you. The smell of his cologne, musky and rich, settled in your throat.

“I’m,’’ you swallowed thickly before ducking your head back down,” I’m fine.’’

“Are you really?’’

Those words seemed to break you down.

“Yeah, I’m…I’m fine,’’ the heaviness of your voice gave the truth right away, and you were sobbing. The you of before, the you back in the past when you were better, had hated crying, but something about being in this office, with the air conditioning blasting heavily at the nape of your neck and the thought of Dr. Kim, Dr. Kim, Dr. Kim left you glued to the seat in tears.

You sucked in a shaky breath, fiercely wiping away tears with your sleeves until your skin stung; you didn’t even notice the tissue box that Dr. Kim picked up and placed by you. He was closer to you now, sitting next to you on the couch in his office, and you leaned in closer to him. You felt him stroke your hair, comforting. You melted into his warmth.

“I’m s-…sorry,’’ you stammered out,’’ It’s just…It’s just I’m feeling guilty.”

“Why do you feel guilty?’’ his voice, deeper than usual, brushed hotly against your ear, and you shivered. Was it the air-conditioning that chilled you to the bone, or was it something else?

Ironically, despite the icy feeling in your gut, you could feel the heat coming to your cheeks, and you swore there must’ve been some hint of a flush that gave away the rapid pit-pattering of your heart. The guilt swelled and crashed in your chest with every thump.

“I’m guilty because…because!’’ the words dried up in your throat, and you clenched your eyes shut as you forced them out through trembling lips,” I shouldn’t be viewing someone else like this.”

“Like what?’’

“In the way I viewed my boyfriend…I’m—,’’ you swallowed thickly.

“Who do you view this way?’’ The gentle stroking of your hair halted, and you peeked open your eyes. You couldn’t meet his gaze, though, and your eyes fell back down to your lap.

“Y-,’’ you sucked in a breath,’’ You, Dr. Kim.”

Tick, tick, tick.

The ticking of his stopwatch drew your attention, and you stared at it breathlessly as you waited for his reply.

He didn’t reply right away, and your heartbeat spiked painfully in your chest. You made a move to stand up, a torrid heat swelling up in your face as tears of embarrassment and guilt and shame pricked your eyes, and you pushed away from him.

“I-I should leave. I’ll cancel my appoint—,’’ your remaining words squeezed out in a surprised gasp as Dr. Kim’s hand encircled your wrist and pulled you to him.

His lips were against yours, the kiss bitingly rough, and you let out a surprised moan as you felt his hand cradle the back of your head and pull you closer to him. He sucked your breath right out of your lungs, and you meekly realized that you were drooling slightly out of the corner of your mouth as he probed his tongue through your lips and against the warm crevices of your mouth. He sucked on your tongue, and you made a soft startled mmph against his lips.

“Dr.—Dr. Kim!’’ you managed to place a trembling hand between the small gap between his chest and yours—you briefly admired the feeling of the muscles of his clothed chest against the palm of your hand—and pried your lips from his. Your eyes had watered in a wanton surprise; you looked like sin itself with the way you trembled and quaked and breathed shakily through swollen lips, a trail of saliva glinting on the corner of your mouth. “Dr. Kim, what—what are you doing?’’

“What do you think I’m doing?’’ his lips curved in an attractive teasing smile that caused shivers to roll down your spine,” Is it a sin to view you the same way you view me?’’

You sucked in a breath and opened your mouth. No further words of protest managed to come out.

Laughter, rough and hoarse, rumbled in his throat as he took off his jacket and loosened the tie around his white collared shirt. The setting sun cast shadows and made him look almost sinister. His voice was like a purr as he spoke.

“Then we’ll sin together. On your hands and knees.”

Some part of you trembled as you heard his voice. His voice was alluring, the way it wrapped around you and dragged you, limp and terrified, into a daze. You were flat on the palms of your hands and your knees before you knew it.

You felt his hands, cool and slightly rough, against the heated flesh of your exposed thighs, and they dragged up to your skirt and pushed it higher up around your waist, leaving only the exposed fabric of your soaked panties behind.

“Dr—Mmph!’’ you were about to question him, but the drag of his finger as it peeled away the flimsy string of your panties left you shivering in bliss. You made another move to question it; you tried your best. Your arms trembled, struggling to hold yourself up, as you felt his tongue drag against the outer folds of your pussy, and then he was devouring you.

His tongue brushed and stroked against your swollen clitoris, and you made a muffled moan through clenched teeth at the spine-tingling touch. And he was shoving his tongue deep into your walls; your walls shivered and quaked and trembled and tightened around his tongue, and you heard him grunt a muffled curse before you were coming.

Your toes curled, your eyes rolled back, and your arms collapsed, sending you careening into the plush arm of the sofa.

You tried to recover, but Dr. Kim didn’t let you recover. He pushed the fabric of your panties further down, and you made a muffled sound of protest as you felt something hot and hard against your sensitive pussy.

You were panting, breathless little whimpers leaving your lips. You were so sensitive; you couldn’t handle anymore. But he was already pushing his cock in.

“Dr. Kim, I’m so…,’’ you sobbed out, your hair a mess. You made a move to twist around, but he grabbed your wrists and, using the tie he had pulled out from around his neck, tied them together. You could only press your face, breathing out high-pitched gasps and moans, against the soft arm of the sofa as he pushed deeper and deeper into you.

The sensation was almost burning the way your walls stretched around his big cock. Oh god, he was bigger than your boyfriend, and you hadn’t fucked anyone since his death. You were tearing up, ready to open your mouth and tell him to stop it, when his cock finally was fully in. It felt like it was pressing against your womb with how deep it was. You made a choked cry.

“Dr. Kim…Dr.—Oh!’’ you keened in pleasure as he pulled out, his cock dragging against your gummy walls, and then pushed back in fully. He set an unforgivable pace, his hands firmly placed on your hips, and you swore you were getting fabric burns from the rough way the pace of his thrusts sent you crashing again and against into the sofa. Your tits bounced, and he grabbed one of them with a hand, stroking the clothed hard nipple with his finger. “Please…Please slow…Mmm! S-slow…slow down!’’

He didn’t slow down. If anything, it seemed like he sped up instead. You could feel your wrists getting red from the tie, but you didn’t care. You were getting so close to your next orgasm. You were already sensitive from the first orgasm, and Dr. Kim’s cock was dragging against your walls just right. You were so, so, so close.

“Dr. Kim!” you squealed out as your walls squeezed around his thrusting cock, and your eyes squeezed shut as you clenched hard down on him. He didn’t even pause, continuing to fuck you even through your orgasm. “Dr…Nngh! Dr. Kim…!’’

You were drooling again as he continued to pound into you, your sensitive pussy trembling fervently around him. You couldn’t think, not when his cock was rearranging your insides, and you could only shiver as he chased his own orgasm with your wet pussy.

He was pounding against your cervix, the sensation leaving little pricks in the nerves underneath your skin, and then you felt him twitch. You realized, with heightened panic, that he wasn’t wearing a condom and made a panicked move to stop him, but he was filling you with hot cum and your eyes were rolling back as you reached another orgasm. He pulled out, his cum staining the bare skin of your ass, and you felt his cum ooze out slightly from your walls.

You twitched, your ass still up and your arms sore from being pinned to your back. You couldn’t move. Not when your brain couldn’t even form coherent thoughts, and you were left spent.

“With the way you haven’t moved,’’ his voice lowered to a predatory tone,’’ Fuck, you make me so hard.”

He was hard again; you could feel it against your sensitive walls before he slammed back into you. You couldn’t even make a sound of protest, not when he had already fucked you thoroughly, before he was fucking you again. You heard the sound of his hips colliding into your ass, the sinful clap of skin together and the squelch of your juices around his invading cock and the rough drag of the fabric of his pants against your flushed skin. You were making panting noises, too tired to even moan. Your cheek rubbed against the sofa as he knocked against your quivering womb with each thrust.

His thrusts were as animalistic as the first time. He fucked you like he was stealing a part of his soul. He fucked you like he craved your existence. He fucked you as if you were his. And you took it, falling into the next orgasm and whimpering as he came again, quicker this time. He was filling you up, marking you from the inside out, and you… you could only moan as he did so.  

He pulled out this time, and you couldn’t even hold yourself up. Your thighs trembled, the inner skin of them coated in an obscene mixture of his cum and your juices, and you clumsily fell to the sofa. You were drifting off, your eyelids closing, and you were, for the first time in a long, dissolving in bliss.

He draped his coat over your sticky body, and you felt him stroke your hair again. His touch was gentle, so gentle. Your eyes drooped further shut.

“Did he fuck you like I did? Make you more like the whore you are?’’ his voice was low, but you could hear it. When it came to him, you could always hear him. But you were too tired. You wanted to sleep. Maybe if you slept by him, the nightmares wouldn’t come.

He chuckled at your lack of response, smoothing the strands of your hair down, and you heard the faint sound of his ticking watch. If you looked closely, through half-lidded eyes, you could make out small scratches and a single crack on the watch’s glass.

“Good night, my beloved.” His voice was like a hum. You…you remembered that. You knew that voice long before you ever sat in front of Dr. Kim. Some part of you screamed, but that part was weaker, blurred by the calming strokes of his hand over your hair and the sweet daze of sleep that kissed your eyelids shut.

You were dreaming again. It was a nightmare. You were in the woods again, the wind in your hair, and you were laughing at a joke your boyfriend said. He gave you the stuffed animal, pretty and soft and comforting, and you were giggling in delight as you hugged it to your chest.

“Babe, I love—,’’ the words died in your throat as a gunshot cracked through the crisp forest night. You were screaming now, the previous words of your love confession dying in your chest as ragged yells dragged out of your throat. He fell down, fearful-stained eyes growing glassy, and you felt a splatter of blood against your hands that stained the stuffed animal you were cradling. You were sobbing, your hands trembling as you reached out to try to touch his paling face. His lips shivered as they made one final desperate yell.

“Run!’’

You turned on your heels and made a run for it. You broke through trees and branches whipped at your fast as you ran and ran and…A hand grabbed your hair and slammed you against the tree so hard you were left winded, and you were screaming madly in grief and fear and outright hysteria as you lashed out.

“Why are you after us? Why us? Why did you kill him? Why did you kill him? WHY DID YOU KILL HIM?’’

Your fingers snagged a watch, leaving scratches on the wrist of the perpetrator, and you yanked it off the wrist in the midst of your struggle. You kicked out, frantic and desperate, and the moonlight of the night hit the perpetrator.

Dr. Kim’s face glowed underneath the waning light, his handsome features twisted in a mad glee as you thrashed and thrashed, and he was laughing through a choked breath even when your foot crashed into his rib and sent him sprawling to the forest floor.

You didn’t even wait to turn on your heel, and you were running again.

“Good night, my beloved.’’

You heard him laughing in the distance after he spoke, the sound rough and coarse and haunting, and there was that ticking again resonating from his watch still drowning in the forest floor’s mixture of mud and branches and rotting leaves.

Tick, tick, tick.

You saw the edge of the forest, the blinding light of the lamppost flickering in the distance, and your foot caught on a root protruding from the dark ground. You crashed into the ground.

You fought to get up, but the mud was soft underneath your thrashing body, and you were sinking into it. It swallowed your feet and your hands first, and you were sobbing in hysteria as it began to swallow up until your neck, and you were choking on mud as you drowned in it.

Flashes of Dr. Kim’s face flickered through your mind. His cold face, the warmth in his eyes as he wiped off your tears, the hunger in his expression as he devoured your lips, and…and his face twisted like a maniac as he dragged you against the forest tree and mockingly laughed at your struggle. He was going to finish you next, he was going to love you, he was going to break you, he was going to hold you, and he was…he was obsessed with you.

The mud filled your lungs, and you stopped coughing, stopped trying, stopped fighting. Your lips twisted in a content smile as you closed your eyes and went limp.

A/N: Leave a comment/review if you enjoyed the fic (or tell me if I made a mistake anywhere. Always a bit nerve-wracking copy and pasting from the word document I use to write). Sending my love to all of you for your support, as always!

[pilothusband]

Abducted Amphora

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol (not to an excess), food mention (they eat pizza), non-explicit tension, mentions of stealing shit, hints at a boss/employee relationship so there’s a slight power balance there, age gap that isn’t mentioned (he has years of service and she’s almost brand new)

Word count: 1,972

Author’s note: Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday! Lightly edited, unbeta’d. This one is pretty tame compared to my other works. Thinking about turning it into a snapshot series. Let me know what you think!

A smattering of footsteps clatter throughout the courtyard, echoing off the old walls that surround you. Sprawling greens adorn almost every inch of the balcony, reaching out to an impossibly blue pool situated in the middle. You can’t help but gawk as you walk through the museum, trailing your boss by a few paces who is currently following the curator, a middle-aged woman with bouncy curls and a wardrobe to die for.

A few minutes prior, she had introduced herself as Vanessa Harrington, given a firm handshake to the two of you, and hastily made her way to the exhibit where an expensive piece of artwork was stolen.

“What’s weird is, this isn’t even the most expensive piece the museum owns,” she says, glancing backwards and waving her hands. How she manages to walk briskly in stiletto heels without looking forwards is a mystery to you. 

The stolen piece is a Panathenaic amphora from Hellenistic era Greece. It was most likely used to fill with olive oil to give to Olympic champions. Not to say it isn’t valuable, but it had sat nondescript amongst bright and flashy paintings that were incredibly rare and sought after.

“And the security cameras were disabled prior to the theft?” Your boss, Marcus Pike asks, scribbling in his notepad. Vanessa nods in confirmation. “Then they were enabled right after, as if the thieves knew how to hack into the system.”

“Either they knew how to hack into the security system or they had enough insider knowledge to disable it,” you voice your thoughts, not even aware that you were speaking out loud.

Marcus looks over to you, his warm brown eyes flicking over your face in acknowledgement.

Every time his eyes meet yours, you feel yourself freeze up for a moment. No matter that you’ve been working with him for nearly a year, it’s as if time stops every time you look at him. His jaw, square and strong, along with his soft brown eyes that give away to his emotions at any moment. His broad shoulders always manage to get your pulse going, along with his small waist, showcased by the form-fitting button downs he wore under his suit coat.

“We’re going to need all information regarding museum personnel, as well as any vendors that drop by regularly,” Marcus shifts his attention over to Vanessa, who nods decisively.

“Absolutely. I have that all on my office desktop and can get that to you ASAP.”

Vanessa doles out more details for a few minutes and Marcus jots them down– in his unreadable handwriting no doubt– and then Vanessa bids you adieu and spins on her heel to her office, giving you two free rein over the museum.

There isn’t anymore DNA evidence to go over. The local police already had their personnel collect it days prior and the scene was spotless once you arrived. The thieves had been meticulous in leaving as little evidence as possible. The only fingerprints found were already processed and pending a match. They were most likely from an employee, and there’s a good chance it was just normal prints left behind from dusting priceless artwork.

Once Vanessa is out of the room, Marcus turns and places a big hand on your bicep.

“Good job back there, agent.” He flashes an easy grin. Marcus is an incredible boss. He’s driven, observant, kind, and knows when he has to make the tough calls. He’s a natural-born leader. You haven’t been with the bureau for long, being a junior agent among a team of seasoned professionals, but comparing him to other supervisory agents you have met, he’s warm and kind, always making sure his team is in good shape. He’s the kind of guy who’s prepared for anything, whether it be backup for a shootout with an unsub or someone in the room needs a pen before a staff meeting.

You can’t help but feel flushed at his praise. Despite Marcus’ easygoing nature and his openness with the team, he always seems to keep you at an arms’ length. It was getting to the point where you were wondering if he was regretting hiring you in the first place. Marcus often rotates the team when it comes to working directly with him on cases, and you have only worked directly with him once– your first ever case. 

Initially you’re convinced you fucked up so badly that he didn’t want to pair up with you afterwards, but then the case report made its way back to your desk and your evaluation was normal, good even.

“Thank you,” you reply, ducking your face down to hide the growing heat licking its way up your face.

“Let’s grab some lunch, get those files from Mrs. Harringon and start digging.”

You nod in agreement and turn, walking towards the exit. You don’t notice the subtle movement, but Marcus trails you, arm raised as if he’s about to touch your waist, but pauses halfway through and scratches at his chin.

Later on that night, you’re holed up in Marcus’ hotel room, hunched over your laptop reading up on all of the museum employees. Marcus took on the task of reading over vendor files, his shoulders set much straighter.

Your back is screaming at you and your eyes are sapped of all moisture as you blink rapidly, trying to will your tear ducts into submission. It’s too early in the night to fall asleep with the amount of work you have to look forward to, and the longer it takes you to crack the case, the more likely the thieves are to get away with the crime.

“I think we could use a break,” Marcus says from across the room. You look up blearily, noting the look of concern he’s giving you, brow furrowed. He must have caught you in your tired state somehow, between poring over files and jiggling his leg absent-mindedly.

“Can’t argue with that,” you chuckle, rubbing at your eyes.

“I’ll order room service, compliments of the bureau,” he says, smiling sideways. “I’m feeling pizza, what do you think?”

“Pizza sounds heavenly,” you groan.

“What do you want to drink?” Marcus asks, his eyes scanning over the menu unfolded next to his laptop.

“Oh, uh,” you hesitate, trying to decide on caffeine or something healthier. “I think the room has plenty of water.”

“I was thinking something a little stronger,” he says, a small grin making its way over his features. “Nothing too crazy, since we still have work to do.”

“What’s your opinion on red wine?” You ask, wanting to select something you both can agree on.

“I love it,” he says, giving you a toothy smile. “Pinot Noir?”

“Sounds perfect.”

An hour later, you’re both seated on the floor, pizza box spread open between your bodies, munching away at the slices of pepperoni you both decided on and sharing the bottle of wine Marcus ordered.

“Turns out it’s bad optics for the boss to drunkenly sing 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton off-key, and I still get teased for it to this day, which is why I refuse to join the team on karaoke nights,” Marcus finishes. You’re clutching your stomach as you laugh at his story, head thrown back as you giggle. 

You’ve only had a glass and a half of wine at this point, but you can already feel a persistent buzzing in your brain, your head feeling much lighter and much heavier simultaneously. This is what you get for skipping breakfast and lunch, opting to replace them with an afternoon snack and a late dinner.

Marcus laughs along with you, shaking his head and looking down at his slice of pizza.

Your laughter dies down and there’s a moment where it’s quiet, the only noise in the room being Marcus chewing on the crust of his pizza slice, and you taking a sip from your glass.

“This is a nice change,” you blurt out, immediately regretting your outburst.

“Mmm,” Marcus hums around the bite in his mouth. He swallows and looks up at you in question.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

Your eyes meet after he speaks and you can feel your heartbeat accelerating in your chest. God, why did you have to open your big mouth?

“Oh, nothing,” you shake your head. “It’s just…”

You don’t continue and Marcus shifts on his knees, leaning forwards to spur you on.

“It’s just what?”

“Well, I don’t know, it’s stupid.” You say, studying the box of pizza below you, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Nothing you could ever say is stupid,” he says with conviction. His tone makes you look up at him in wonder.

“Tell me, please,” he adds softly.

“Well, I thought you didn’t like me. Or that you didn’t think I was a good agent.” You can feel your stomach plunging and your cheeks burning at the admission.

“Why would you think that?” Marcus almost looks hurt.

“God, it’s dumb,” you babble. “But I noticed you haven’t had me partner with you on a case in ages, and you seem to get on with the rest of the team so much easier.”

You risk another look into Marcus’ eyes and he looks absolutely crushed. He cards a hand through his locks and his eyes look far away for a moment. You physically deflate, feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet.

“Hey,” he says, scooting forward and moving the pizza box aside. “You’re an amazing agent. Everything I put in your evals are the truth.”

You don’t reply, but smile softly at him.

“I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel undervalued,” he puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes it. The look on his face, much closer to yours now, is absolutely putting you through the ringer.

Marcus looks disheveled, which is rare for him, as he always looks put-together in the office, not a hair or thread out of place in his tailored suits. His hair is sticking up and his tie is loosened. His brow is furrowed in concern and you have the overwhelming urge to soothe your thumb over it.

“I just–,” he starts and pauses, trying to come up with the right words. “I was so distracted during that case with you, and I never want to put you in that kind of danger again. Especially as a junior agent.”

Distracted?

“What do you mean?” You ask, blinking in confusion. What could have possibly distracted him from the case? This man, so motivated, so focused. He was diligent to a fault, at times.

“I–”

He’s cut off by his cell phone, ringing insistently in his pants pocket. He lifts a finger to pause the conversation and answers the phone.

His expression is focused as he listens to the other end of the line, murmuring affirmations as the call continues.

“Okay, sounds good. We’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

He hangs up the phone, shifts his legs and stuffs it back in his pocket.

“We’ve got a lead on the suspects,” he tells you. “A bodega near the museum has a security camera that caught a large utility van parked in front, right around the time the amphora was stolen. The owner said they’re only available to talk before they open, so we have to be there by 5:30 AM.”

You scramble to your feet and shut your laptop while Marcus clears the pizza and wine. You watch him silently as he finishes the task, noting his stiff shoulders and the carefully neutral expression on his face.

You’ll have to ask Marcus about the conversation later, if you can work yourself up to it. For now, you’ll let your imagination run wild and hope someday you can get over this juvenile crush you have on your boss.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @manalg14 @comphersjost @a-skov @sheresh0y @greeneyedblondie44 @blackmarketmummy @brandyllyn @gracie7209 @bootyliciousbilbo @dobbyjen @vanillabeanlattes @knivesareout​ @fastandfeminist @phrog-seeds @janebby​ @xoxo-callie​

[consumeconstantly]

Those Who Are Kind

1| 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 (you are here) | next

Summary: Siblings are the last thing on Marinette’s mind as she begins her frantic search for Tikki. Really, she can’t even consider them siblings, not yet. But they’re along for the ride, whether she wants them to be or not.

Duke doesn’t know what to make of the current situation.

He’s always known that the Waynes are crazy, insane, even, but he loves them all the same, in the begrudging, cautious way he cannot shake. (This approach has served him well over the years, allowing him to avoid multiple schemes that Tim or Jason typically start up to rile up Damian. From there, everything is guaranteed to snowball. The only time things get really bad is when Cass gets involved.) To him, it’s always been a bit uncanny how similar all the brothers looked, despite the fact that none of them shared blood. All of them had the same sharp jaw, piercing blue eyes, chiselled cheekbones and defined bodies. Only Tim and Damian differed slightly, with Tim having a dancer’s figure instead of that of a body builder or demolitions expert, and Damian having green eyes instead of blue. It’s also disconcerting that everybody the Waynes are more intimately involved with have some sort of alter ego. He often joked with other members of the Justice League that heroism ran in Bruce’s blood.

With the new addition of Marinette to their family, he has to say that he’s been proven right.

A girl who had absolutely nothing to do with the Waynes in any capacity other than the fact that she and Bruce share blood becoming a hero. The leader of a team. Fighting supervillains at the age of thirteen.

He’s very, very glad that he was not adopted by or shared blood with Bruce. He doesn’t think he could have handled being a superhero at age thirteen. He can barely handle being Signal now some days, and he’s an adult. The amount of responsibility on Marinette’s shoulders is difficult to understand. To be the sole wielder of magic that can revert an entire city back to its original state. To bring people back from the dead. 

Dick is strangely quiet. A car is driving them from a pit stop near a zeta tube to Marinette’s hospital. 

Hands down, Dick is the most sane male of the Wayne family, not including Alfred. But there are times when Duke sees the weight that he carries. All the times that he refuses to talk about the burdens that he bears. Moving forward with a smile when he’s in pain. When he gets in a mood like this, he’s hard to read. But given the circumstances, it’s fairly clear exactly what’s bothering him. 

“He’s known about her this entire time,” Dick says, tinted windows allowing Duke a glance at his expression, carefully devoid of any telling emotions. “Nineteen years. He kept her a secret.”

“It’s Bruce.” The man is known for keeping secrets. 

“Yeah, but Marinette is family. She should have been, at least. And now…”

Now she’s all alone when she should be surrounded by people that love her, praising her for her victory, for how she shouldered so much responsibility at such a young age. But by bringing her to a hospital in America, she’s been cut off from her team, and any support system she should have had is gone. 

“You and her,” Duke says, looking for a way to comfort him. “You’ll get along. You’re similar, after all.” After they brought Gabriel and Lila to the a top security prison and sent Emilie to a hospital that couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her, they got two files from Tim. One detailing Ladybug and all of her exploits. The second, detailing Marinette’s life. 

Duke has watched the videos. Has watched how Ladybug leads by example, comes up with the plan and begins the execution. How she shoulders more battles than she should. 

He’s seen Marinette pull people together with a smile on her face, even while she’s running on empty after a strenuous akuma attack. 

Dick and Marinette are alike. 

“We’re too much alike,” Dick says. “I suspected for a long time that Bruce had another kid that he wasn’t telling us about, but I thought that if he was keeping her away from us, then maybe she’d have a shot at leading a good life. A normal life. Not the one she got. Sabine’s— Bruce’s biological daughter shouldn’t be somebody like me. She deserves better.”

Duke is acutely aware that Dick’s parents were also murdered, but whatever relation he had with Sabine is something he’s never been willing to talk about. There are pictures in his apartment of a petite Asian woman with a soft smile standing next to him, but whenever asked about her, Dick never gives a straight answer. 

“Nobody has the ability to change the past.” Duke claps a hand on his friend’s shoulder. He sags imperceptibly under the weight. 

Well— actually, it’s not out of the realm of possibilities, given the fact that magic, aliens, and metahumans all coexisted, supplemented by the fact that multiple members of Marinette’s team do have the ability to travel back in time, but that’s another matter entirely. There’s not a lot of information on the Miraculous, and all of their knowledge is coming from Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and Zatara, and even the three of them don’t know everything. 

“But you have the chance to do good by her. Be a good older brother, like I know you are.”

A thin smile appears on Dick’s face. “She’s going to need more than just one good influence on her life. And Damian is better, but you saw how he looked at her when Bruce brought her through the Zeta tubes. Tim’s not going to react well either, and Jason is a wild card. She’s not going to get the support she needs if she stays with us.”

Duke crosses his arms, knees brushing up against the back of the car seat. “The only person whose actions you’re responsible for are your own. Don’t worry about them. If they don’t like her, they’ll just avoid her.”

That’s certainly not true— all of the members of the Wayne family are notorious for going hard after all of the things they don’t like. But... it’s comforting to hear. Sometimes temporary and known lies are much nicer than harsh realities.

#

She’s gone.

All of her belongings are missing, the IV needle is hanging from the stand, the window open, and Marinette is missing from her bed.

At least she left a note?

Be back soon — Marinette

“Great,” Duke mutters under his breath. “Another incredibly vague, cryptic Wayne.”

Dick’s face turns to ash. “Her legs. Her head. She can’t go out so soon. Hold on, maybe Barbara can pull up some footage.”

“On the bright side, there’s no blood,” Duke says. 

“That’s not a bright side.”

“It is,” Duke argues. “She fell in the worst places possible, right on top of that broken glass casket. If she’s not bleeding that clearly means she didn’t pull her stitches on her mad escape out.”

When Ladybug fell, they’re not exactly sure what happened, because the screen showed Ladybug collapsing almost gracefully. When they arrived on the scene, she flickered between Ladybug and Marinette as her earrings beeped. Her legs were slashed from falling on the glass with a seemingly unnatural force— simply falling would not have garnered cuts that large— and her head was twisted at an odd angle, debris bloodied beneath her.

Somehow, the Miraculous Cure seemed to be working backwards. Not from the epicenter out, but rather from the edge of the damage, in. It worked slowly, every mile taking minutes instead of mere seconds. It hadn’t happened before in any of the battles.

It was useful in apprehending Hawkmoth and Pavona, who were still knocked out. But Marinette, even after the Miraculous Cure washed over her, didn’t get healed. Her injuries didn’t revert. There was still a gash on her stomach from Hawkmoth’s cane, still muscles exposed on the back of her legs and blood on her neck. When she was first brought in, the doctors feared that she may be permanently incapacitated. 

Good at keeping to her word at least. She came swinging through the window with worry on her face and grief in her eyes. 

“I need to go back to Paris,” she says. 

Dick will undoubtedly say no. He’s a very protective person, and Marinette is the center of his current efforts. 

But she doesn’t look injured. He eyes her stance. She’s standing with no effort, walks with no limp. No hospital dress, no blood on her neck, no bruises in all of the places he was expecting them to be. Marinette does not look like she just faced a world ending threat less than twenty four hours ago. She certainly doesn’t look like she’s permanently lost the use of her legs. There’s the familiar Wayne Brand Stubbornness in her eyes— no way she’s not Bruce’s kid— that tells him that she’s going to get to Paris one way or another, and that they’re either lucky they were even notified in the first place or that she wants to use a resource that they have that she does not have access to. It’s fairly obvious what that resource is, considering that Paris is nine hours away by any normal plane and it sounds like she wants to get there in minutes, and not hours. Duke also knows that if they don’t take what she’s offering now, she’ll use an alternative method that definitely won’t be as nice or clear cut. 

He jumps in before Dick can say anything. “We’ll take you as long as we go with you every step of the way.”

Oh, he’s going to get in so much trouble for doing this. Dick is looking at him with his Disapproving Dad glare, and he can imagine Bruce going into brooding silence when he hears that Duke allowed this to happen. 

Marinette’s lips pinch together, but she nods. “Where’s the nearest zeta tube?”

#

Barbara gets Dick’s text and sighs in frustration.

She’s already got her hands full with watching Tim, who’s spiralling trying to find information about the Miraculous, muttering under his breath in the way he does when he gets a particularly hard case to crack. He’s gone through six cups of coffee in the last hour, and he kicked off his research with a combination of 5 Hour Energy, Monster, three packets of sugar, and 10 caffeine shots. Soon, she’ll have to start limiting his caffeine intake, but right now it’s clear that any attempt to get him to stop his research now will fail spectacularly. At least she’s not in charge of Damian and Jason. Wherever they are, they’re definitely on the move and not happy.

She never thought she'd be able to say she’s happy about being paralyzed from the waist down, but she certainly doesn’t want to be chasing after one of the two hellions. Cass definitely has her hands full and whoever’s watching Jason— wait, is anybody even watching Jason? Typically Roy gets stuck with Jason-sitting duty, but he’s been out for a while. 

Barbara groans. Jason is probably on his own, wreaking havoc.

Great.

She’ll deal with that later, even though she has no doubt she’ll regret that decision, but if Marinette is gone from her room, Dick needs the footage, and somebody needs to find where she is. The nurse put in her latest report that her legs were almost healed and that she didn’t show any signs of a concussion, but Marinette was in bad shape when she got admitted to the hospital. Even though Barbara doubts that there was any misdiagnosis, given that Bruce sprung for a VIP room in one of the pricier hospitals, in a world where magic and aliens are present, who knows what’s true or not.

“Tibet!” Tim jumps up from his hunched over position for the first time in hours. “I’m going to Tibet, the closest zeta tubes are three hours by car away, but I can get somebody to loan Wayne Industries a helicopter while I’m over there.”

“Sit down, Tim.” Barbara takes her glasses off and pinches the bridge of her nose. Why can’t Bruce rein in his children? Why is she the one stuck babysitting? “Marinette left her hospital room.”

That certainly gets Tim to put the brakes on his movements towards the zeta tube in the bat cave. 

“What?”

“I said, she left her hospital room. Just sit down while I send the information over. It’s not going to do you any good to rush into things anyways.”

A quick review of the surrounding CCTV shows that Marinette didn’t travel far, just around the hospital. She’s looking for something, calling out for it, too. Barbara grabs that file and slows it down so she can read her lips. “Dickie? Do she and Dick know each other already?”

A quick text back to Dick reveals that Marinette has already returned to the room and—

Oh, hell. 

“Well,” Barbara pushes her laptop away from her, letting Tim watch the files she’s pulled up. “It looks like we’re taking a family trip to Paris.”

#

Somehow, Marinette almost manages to lose all four of them within the first four minutes of roaming around Paris.

Luckily, their family has an almost absurd amount of luck between all of them (not all of it good) and the person Barbara was half sure she could only find in prison, beating up Hawkmoth and Pavona, runs into Marinette on the streets and herds her back to them.

“Lose something?” Jason asks, arm slung around Marinette’s shoulder, the smaller, younger girl looking rather upset at having her plans thrown off.

“I told them that they could follow me,” Marinette argues without much real bite. It’s not my fault if they can’t keep up, is the clear meaning of her statement.

Again, Barbara is very impressed that the barely nineteen year old somehow managed to shake off vigilantes with decades of experience with ease. But it is, at least, partially due to her disability. Every time she goes out in her wheelchair, her heart aches a little, especially as the civilians she passes eye her with pity. Barbara doesn’t want pity. Doesn’t need pity. She shouldn’t feel anything when people look at her like she can’t keep up, because she can keep up.

Most of the time, anyways.

It doesn’t matter how she uses her tech skills to modify her wheelchair and deck it out with all the equipment she could ever need, or that she can easily get up to speeds rivalling sports cars for short periods of time before the power runs out. When she’s stuck in her wheelchair, she loses the maneuverability she had when she wasn’t paralyzed.

She couldn’t follow Marinette through the alleyways because she was stuck. Barbara was the one who noticed her escape first. If only she were more capable, she could have—

But it’s okay now. Jason ran into her. Marinette is back with them. 

“I need to search for something, and none of you can help.” She’s not intentionally being rude when she says it, and if anything, sounds apologetic. Barbara sees the similarities between Marinette and Bruce. It makes a lot of sense that the two of them are father and daughter, when the two of them are so insistent on keeping major issues to themselves. Marinette twists herself out from underneath Jason’s arm, clutching her purse. Her head doesn’t move, but her eyes are wild. 

“We can help,” soothes Duke, ever the voice of reason. “You know who we are.”

“And I’m guessing you’ve all either deduced who I am or have been told my identity,” counters Marinette. “Which means you should know why I can’t have you helping me.”

Barbara and Duke exchange pointed glances. 

“That’s not really clear to us, actually,” says Barbara. Marinette isn’t moving, but the way her shoulders tense makes her believe that the younger girl is ready to run at the drop of a hat. 

A small group of people from the parade on the streets tumbles into the alleyway they’re resting in. They smell like cheap booze and sweat. 

“What are all of you doing in this alley?” one says, after he finished vomiting up his last (very colorful) meal. “You should be out there partying with the rest of us! Celebrating Ladybug and her team.”

“Fuck Hawkmoth and Pavona,” says another solemnly, with neon face paint and pigtails with glitter string intertwined. “Their defeat should be celebrated by even the darkest souls.”

Jason, easily amused by their antics, looks very willing to join them. “Yeah Marinette, we should be celebrating Ladybug not—”

As one, everybody looks at the place where Marinette was, just moments ago. The alley is decidedly empty of a small asian girl with blue eyes and pigtails.

“Fuck,” Jason curses.

“Fuck is right,” Duke agrees, placing a hand over his temple. 

#

Marinette manages to disappear for three hours.

Three full hours.

“She’s good,” Tim says, typing into the holographic computer embedded into his sleeve. 

Paris’ CCTVs are painfully easy to hack into, though he suspects that the lack of attention to them may have to do with the fact that everybody in the city is celebrating. Policemen, politicians, artists, students, scientists—  people from all walks of life are in the streets today, screaming and shouting and being free for the first time in years.

He spies more than just a few dozen people bawling their eyes out within a few minutes. But that’s not surprising, considering how long Parisians have had to suppress their emotions for. 

Dick and Barbara are still in the midst of profiling Marinette, trying to determine the most likely places where she’d stop by, either as Ladybug or herself. All of Ladybug’s usual haunts are decidedly devoid of the young heroine, though Tim does manage to catch a good amount of footage of the other young heroes like Carapace and Rena Rouge, who are most definitely in a relationship based on their makeout session on top of the eiffel tower (one of the first places Tim checked), Viperion, who seems to be the only one from Ladybug’s team to be seeking out the crowd which seems rather atypical considering that the hero never frequented interviews or was spotted on news coverage all that frequently,  and Chat Noir and Queen Bee who Jason insisted were in a relationship as well, though the rest of them believed they were only embracing each other out of comfort— Chat Noir looks like he’s been crying for hours, and Queen Bee looks like she’s barely holding it together.

Ryuko has not shown up on camera once today. Neither has Ladybug.

The second place Tim checks is the bakery. She is not there either, though another girl is. It doesn’t seem like the girl has any ill intent, but Duke is more than happy to pull up past files to see if she’s been there before, if she has any reason to be there, and who exactly she is. 

Just as Barbara and Dick are debating the chances that Marinette would be at Le Grande Paris, she walks past one of the cameras focused on Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie. Tim has the system rigged up so that any facial matches for Marinette automatically alerts the room. He hadn’t been able to replicate that with Ladybug’s face for some bizarre reason which is why he, Barbara, Dick, and Jason are manually combing through the areas where Dick and Barbar think she may be (magic is why, but Tim has always believed that technology can be used against and with most forms of magic) so it’s lucky that she enters as Marinette. 

“Kagami Tsurugi,” Duke says triumphantly. “She visited often when Tom and Sabine were still alive. Potential candidate to represent France or Japan for Sabre in the next Olympics. Definitely friends with Marinette.”

“Thank God,” sighs Dick. “Now let’s get over there.”

It’s truly, truly unfortunate that they set up shop quite a distance away from the bakery.

They take too long to arrive.

#

Perhaps it was a mistake, telling Kagami first.

No, not just perhaps. It was a mistake. A bad one.

But Kagami was pushing so hard, and Marinette was so tired and so alone without Tikki at her side, without the knowledge that her parents would be waiting for her. Kagami pushed and pushed and pushed about why the house felt so empty, why there was dust on the floor, why the bakery was closed for so long, and where were Tom and Sabine? Why weren’t they there for the team yesterday, when the battle was won, when they knew how important it was to be there for Adrien who had just lost all three of his parental figures? 

The moment the words fall from Marinette's lips, she knows she shouldn’t have revealed it at that moment, because Kagami draws in on herself, lips turning downwards, hands curling into fists. 

Kagami has come a long way from the girl she was in lycèe. The thrill of victory is still something she enjoys, but not something she needs to feel secure in her place in the world. She has trouble expressing her emotions, but when it comes down to it, she communicates everything necessary to understand why. 

With the news of Tom and Sabine’s death, she withdraws into herself, shifts back into that thirteen year old Marinette first met. Logic  and rationale thrown to the wind in favor of cold anger. 

It’s no secret that Ryuko, Ladybug, and Viperion are the main strategists of their team. Viperion, out of his duty of using Second Chance and his ability to keep a level head in the face of constant death. Ladybug out of necessity as her position as team leader and the power of Lucky Charm. Theoretically, the two of them should have been enough. But over the years, Kagami became Marinette's favored confidante; though Ladybug trusts all of her team to keep a tight hold on any information she gives them, Kagami is one of the few who is able to pick apart a given situation and transform the monsters they face into manageable pieces. 

Today, it is Kagami who has broken to pieces. Very angry, razor sharp shards that seek to hurt.

“You lie to the media, tell them a pretty tale of how they died due to a break in. Why do you avoid pinning their deaths on Lila as you should? To absolve a quality woman from guilt?”

Marinette can’t look Kagami in the eyes.

Her parents deserved a peaceful death. To pass on in old age, hand in hand. Not looking on as a family member died, in fear of what would happen next for their daughter. 

“The police know. The judges know,” Marinette protests weakly, but without much eight behind her words.

Kagami just scoffs. “Tom and Sabine were kind people. To not tell the media what truly happened— that’s preventing Lila from getting the full force of what’s coming to her. What happens if she gets out of prison one day? Without any real deaths to her name, she could just flee to another country to escape it all. And when another person loses their life because of her…” 

She doesn’t need to finish her sentence. If somebody else gets injured in any way, shape or form at the hands of Lila Rossi, it’s Marinette’s fault. Marinette gets what Kagami is trying to say. She thinks the same thing, after all.

“My parents would not want their death publicized in that manner.” It’s the truth, but it’s said so weakly that the words come off as little more than a weak defense, and Kagami takes the words and twists their truth.

“You know little of your parents, considering that you’re their daughter.” Kagami stands stock still, not a single extra muscle moving. “Perhaps if you spent more time with them as Marinette instead of unsuccessfully gallivanting around as Ladybug, you’d have realized that Tom and Sabine admire truth above all else, even if it is painful.”

Kagami does not ask a single question about where Marinette was last night, or how Marinette felt over the loss of her parents or when she saw all those she held dear lying still on the ground after Hawkmoth and Pavona’s final attacks. She just purses her lips and sweeps out the door.

And then she’s gone, and Marinette is alone once more. 

#

The bakery is bone-achingly quiet.

Every step Marinette takes creates such a disturbance in the peace that moving hurts. 

But she can’t stay here. She can’t stay here. She does not deserve to stay here. Kagami is right. Marinette was a bad daughter. She could have prevented their death, could have given them justice sooner, could have— 

And Marinette can’t breathe. She tries to, she tries so hard to, but she chokes.

She kneels down on the floor— Kagami is right again, the place is dusty, because Marinette couldn’t bring herself to use the living room and kitchen without her parents, could barely bring herself to sleep in her bedroom because she knew that her parents were not sleeping soundly in the bed below hers— and scrabbles at her throat, vision coming in and out.

Her legs burn. She knows that during the final battle, her legs were cut towards the end of it, and they should be healed, she should be okay now, she’s better than this, she’s— 

Somebody gathers her in their arms. They smell slightly of Lotus flowers, just like Maman, and cradle her ever so gently.

Marinette’s eyes open— black hair, greyish eyes filled with understanding and love and— 

She can breathe again.

She falls asleep.

#

“Cass?” Dick’s eyes widen at her unexpected appearance at Marinette’s home.

“I thought you were on Damian guard duty,” Barbara says, fixating on the red around Marinette’s eyes and the barely dried tear tracks on her face.

“Where’s that Kagami girl?” Jason scuffs his shoes on the hardware floor, silently marking the footprints on the floor and getting a general idea of what occurred before they were able to get here based on Marinette’s current state and the other girl’s absence. “I want to have some words with her.”

Cass inclines her head sharply, eye sparking with anger. Jason’s fists rise unconsciously— Cass rarely gets angry, and whenever she gets angry at a specific person, that means they’ve done something very, very wrong— ready to hunt down Kagami. Marinette sniffles and shifts in Cass’ one armed embrace, to which Cass places a finger over her lip and shakes her head, a universal sign to be quiet.

 Jason scowls but settles down.

They’re quiet as they wait for Marinette to wake.

@biodad-bruce-month

Maribat tag list(to be added onto this pls send me an ask/dm): @our-precipreciousss @my-dear-friend-anxiety

Who Are You (and what will you become) tag list (to be added here just comment): @anjuschiffer @theunquiet-dead @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @cresentmo0n @allulily @myazael @zalladane @rebecarojas07 @keepingupwiththemalfoys  @frieddonutsweets @all-mights-asscheeks @thornalchemist23 @trippingovermyfeet @jiso-lee @redscarlet95 @ira-sairain @screechingflapbiscuitpeach @ramos123 @cutechip @theunquiet-dead @sleep-deprived-aroace @enternalempires @lilkymilky @woe-is-me0 @officiallydarkgeek @miyla-lokidottir @queencommonsense @demonicbusiness @iamablinkmarvelarmy 

@emark7 (i will have the edited version of these on ao3 eventually but i think the link to ch 1 on this one works)

where i ended this doesn’t feel very good but ehhhhhhhhhh my writing process is summary then word vomit that barely correlates which means nothing makes sense unless i edit but looking back at my work makes me cringe so at a crossroads yayyy

also can you guys tell which prompts ive written these for because i’m curious

[capsironunderoos]

Five Minutes

Eggsy Unwin X GN!Reader

Summary: Eggsy gets a suspicious call from the reader who’s off on an assignment.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Death, blood, and mentions of the reader skipping breakfast, but not for any reason other than time and that feeling you get when you wake up too early and you can’t eat. 

Author’s Note: I had some requests to post this a while back and never did and I just randomly remembered it tonight. Also, I’m pretty sure the reader is gender neutral, but if I accidentally left in something that contradicts that please let me know! It’s kind of short, but I hope you guys enjoy!

Here’s a link to my masterlist: capsironunderoos masterlist

Your body is slack against the cool wall behind you, the silence of the hallway before you almost echoing and overpowering the footsteps you’re sure you hear from far off. 

The hallway has now begun to spin too, but maybe that’s just because you hadn’t had much to eat for breakfast. 

While you were a top agent for the Kingsman association, able to crack codes almost as fast as you could break someone’s neck, it would take an army just to get you to eat breakfast. 

Or a stubborn boyfriend who swore he only wanted the best for you, which equaled you not falling out at some point during your busy day due to the lack of sustenance in your system. 

At the thought of your boyfriend, a smile forms on your face and you slowly lift your watch to your eye-line, trying your best to combat the wave of nausea from moving. 

A few memorized movements later and you’re waiting to hear his voice cut through the comms in your ear. 

In the pause of waiting, you notice the excess sweat running down your forehead and your inability to catch a deep breath. 

You promise yourself that you’ll talk your boyfriend into taking you to lunch once you’ve got him on the phone. 

“Hello my darling.�� 

His voice interrupts your thought process on where exactly you plan on talking him into going for lunch. 

“Hello Eggsy.” You reply cheerily. 

“It’s early. How did it go? I mean, it must’ve gone good yeah? You are calling me.” 

You giggle as he rambles, knowing how easily he worries about you. 

“It went well. I broke the code and sent the information to Merlin.” 

“Any bad guys?” 

“Not anymore.” You sing-song and he laughs, the noise temporarily clearing your muddled thoughts. 

“(Y/N),” he starts, and his change in tone makes you uneasy. 

“Are you still on site?” 

You close your eyes in defeat and press your head against the wall behind you. 

It would be just like you to forget the tracker in your watch. 

And the camera in your glasses. 

“What are you doing sitting down? Is everything alright?” 

You sigh and gasp for air for a moment, a ragged breath escaping your lips before you can answer. 

“Just needed a moment love. I skipped breakfast again this morning.” 

The sigh he emits isn’t one of relief, it’s more “I know you’re lying but I’m not going to say anything.” 

The line falls silent for a beat before he begins to tell you about his next assignment and then an update on Roxy, who’s been on assignment in America for a few months now. 

He’s trying to help you put your mind on other things besides what he thinks is just your stomach growling at you for skipping the most important meal of the day. 

You respond at the right times and he’s none the wiser, seemingly having forgotten, or just not noticed, that you haven’t moved from your spot on the floor. 

It hasn’t been happening for long, but you’ve tried your best to stop it. 

You’d noticed it earlier as Eggsy was telling you about Roxy falling in front of an important Statesman, but you’d refused to acknowledge that it was anything other than the residue from that close call with the knife. 

When you finally glance down to look at your side and take in the damage you hear Eggsy stop. 

Your fingers are stained red and sticky, and it takes an exorbitant amount of strength to pry them away from your side. 

You laugh and Eggsy is now the one who can’t catch his breath. 

“I didn’t eat breakfast today.” 

“I know, you told me.” He whispers and you can hear Merlin murmuring something in the background about being late. 

You don’t remember telling him. 

“I don’t remember that. I don’t even remember why I called you. Or what I’m doing here.” 

Your voice trails off and Eggsy wants to scream. 

He wants to yell and fuss. 

Why didn’t you call him sooner? 

Why didn’t you try to make it back to the airplane? 

Why did you call him and pretend everything was okay? 

Why had he just simply believed everything was okay? 

“Darling can you stay awake for me? Me and Merlin are on our way.” 

You hum, feeling faint and tired. 

“He came outta nowhere. I mean, you shoulda seen ‘em. Fast.” You slur and Eggsy can’t move fast enough to get to you. 

He knows it’s too far. Deep down he does, really. You’re quite literally a plane ride away. 

But he won’t accept that. He can’t. 

What kind of Kingsman would he be if he gave up on another agent? What kind of person would he be if he gave up on you? 

That’s what he tells Merlin to convince him to go to you. 

“Keep telling me about him, my love.” 

He knows that all of the pet names in the world won’t keep this from unfolding, but that doesn’t stop him. 

He wishes he could see you, instead of staring down the stark and empty hallway in front of you.

You hear him shuffling around and Merlin talking to him in the background, but all you can focus on is how the red of your blood has woven itself into the pattern of your favorite suit. 

“This...” you cry out suddenly, and Eggsy’s heart constricts, “was my favorite suit.” 

You’re surprised to feel cool tears streaming down your face and you slowly reach up to wipe them away. 

“I know, but we’ll have you another one made just like it, okay?” 

He glances to Merlin and Merlin nods. 

“Tell her.” He provokes and Eggsy can feel tears sitting against his waterline. 

“Listen, my darling, I love you okay?” He forces out and he can hear you sniffle. 

“I love you too.” 

Your weak reply nearly stops his heart, the only urge for it to continue beating being the feeling of the plane’s wheels landing against the earth. 

Eggsy has barely allowed Merlin to stop the plane before he is running, running, running. 

He rounds the corner and stops so fast that Merlin literally knocks into him. 

But Eggsy is stone. He is unmoving. 

You were this close to the door? One more turn and you could have been home. 

With him. 

Safe. 

His feet feel heavy as lead, dragging themselves to where you sit, body slumped against the wall. 

Your fingers lay open on top of your wound, blood still slowly wrapping around them. 

He can tell you’ve tried to wipe away the few tears you let fall by the messy streaks of blood that line your cheeks. 

Your red-soaked suit sends him over the edge and he crumbles onto the floor beside you, knees hitting your hip as he wraps his shaking hands around your face, turning you towards him. 

Minutes.

It took a mere five minutes to rip you away from the Kingsman.

From the job you adored, and the friends you’d made. 

From him. 

After everything, all of the birthdays and holidays and brunches and assignments and love, all it took was five minutes. 

“It’s not fair.” He murmurs to anyone who cares to listen and Merlin shifts behind him. 

Merlin has seen death in the field before, but he is speechless when it comes to offering a word of comfort now. 

Eggsy pulls you against him, your blood now starting to color his suit red. 

“You did so good darling.”

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 10)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 4154 Warnings: fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: You guys... this is fluff central plus I expect some screaming... A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​​​​​​​​​ Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 9 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

It was already dark as you headed up the steps from the subway station, shrugging your jacket a little closer to your body to keep out the chill. It wasn’t even officially winter but the cold weather had decided to make itself at home in New York.

Although you were exhausted from a long day at the hospital you were meeting up with your friends straight from work for an early get together. Someone had the bright idea that you should all go ice skating. It wasn’t your first choice considering you’re not that great at it but the promise of hot chocolate and sweets curbed your protests. 

You walked with purpose through the massive crowds in Bryant Park, everyone with the same idea on a Saturday evening; wander through the shops and food stands set up for the holidays and ice skate in a place only slightly less crowded than Rockefeller Center.

A bluish white star shines high above the large tree, sparkling with its own multicolored lights. Beneath it is where you find your friends, huddled together to keep warm.

“Hey!” you shout approaching them. 

Your arms wrap around puffy jackets, cold cheeks pressing together for kisses. A new person has joined your group’s hangout for the first time and you welcome her with open arms. Steve was head over heels for Peggy and although you were kind of sad he hasn’t been around much to hang out you wouldn’t trade his happiness for yours. Besides, Bucky’s sort of taken his place to come over and binge TV. 

Sam took charge to lead everyone towards the skate rentals. With all the couples paired together you found yourself beside Bucky, trying to not get separated with everyone through the crowds.

“How was work today?” he asked, shouting over the mix of chatter and holiday music.

Your cheeks became tight with an uneasy frown and you didn’t have to explain further. Bucky knew how taxing social work could be. Not every day ends with positive results. Sometimes people refuse help and there’s nothing you can do about it, other times you see the end result of a situation that should have had an intervention years ago. But the system is flawed, so all you can do is your best. 

His arm wraps around you and Bucky stops to pull you closer to him. The gesture of his embrace is met with scoffs by those he made stop short but Bucky ignores the angry stares. He squeezes a little tighter, an unspoken signal to let you know things will be okay; exhaling a sigh you know it will be.

No one noticed how the two of you lagged behind but you found your way to the booth, picking up ice skates and making your way to the locker area. 

“Have you ever done this before?” you asked Bucky as you began tightening your laces. 

Hair fell in front of his eyes as he tipped his head down to laugh. “I played hockey when I was twelve, so I’m hopin’ I’m not too bad. You?”

“I’m alright.”

Wanda whipped her head around immediately after hearing your words. “You’re such a liar!” She locked eyes with Bucky continuing, “Remember how Bambi was on ice?” He chuckled, nodding. “Well Y/N is a thousand times worse.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips. “Wanda you are so dramatic! I am not that bad.”

“Just watch out Barnes, when she falls– and she will– she grabs the nearest person and takes them down with her.”

Your eyes rolled back as you laughed again, telling Bucky to ignore Wanda. It had been a few years since you had gone ice skating and sure, you might be a little rusty but you were still feeling pretty confident. 

By the time you got on the ice you had lost any shred of hope in your abilities. You were clinging to the rail trying to hold your balance despite your legs wanting to splay outwards, yelping every time someone swooshed by you gracefully. 

“Hey Bambi,” Bucky teased, gliding towards you. “Take my hand.” He extended both hands to you, his soft smile doing its best to push aside your nerves.

Your grip on the railing strengthened as you let one hand go, taking his gloved hand with yours. Bucky held your gaze, blue eyes that spoke only trust as he encouraged you to let go. Your face scrunched tightly as you felt the nerves built up, but with one final push you released your hand and found his.

“Don’t let go of me,” you pleaded, shakily as Bucky skated backwards, pulling you towards the center of the rink.

“Never,” he practically purred, which was dangerous considering your knees already felt weak from the position they were in.

Bucky attempted to teach you how to skate because, as he suspected maybe there was some truth in what Wanda said about your abilities, or lack thereof. From the corner of your eye you spotted Natasha, slim fit leggings hugged her curves as she glided gracefully on the ice. She became a blur of red hair as she spun in place, with Clint smiling in awe at her. 

“She and her sister used to do ballet,” he remarked towards you both as he waited for her to come out of the spin, her arms finding the familiar dancers pose above her head. 

Your brows furrowed. “Sister?” You thought Natasha didn’t have a family; in fact you definitely remember her telling you her parents died a long time ago. She never once mentioned having a sister.

Reading the confusion on your face Clint filled in the rest. “Not her real sister but close enough like family. It’s another reason we’re having a hard time with the wedding. She’s in Russia, has a job that keeps her as busy as Nat so it’s hard to coordinate and Tash would definitely want her there.”

Clint left to join Natasha at her side and they skated together, as did Wanda and Sam. His distinct laugh stood out from the distance as they coasted along the outer portion of the rink. Even Steve who was always a little clumsy somehow became a near professional as he and Peggy skated by.

“How is everyone so good at this?” you huffed. The aggravation you felt with yourself made you lose focus for a moment, your legs nearly slipping on the ice but Bucky caught you. 

Bucky’s voice was smoother than paved ice as he assured you, “You’ve got this. Just follow me.”

It was a slow start to learn how to actually skate, you still held one of Bucky’s hands as you marched on the ice and slowly you trusted his encouragement enough to let go. He skated right beside you as you turned your marching into tiny glides.

“You’re doing it!” he proudly cheered.

You smiled widely as you traveled along the ice, slow and steady. Bucky was showing off a bit, winking at you before he spun around, looking over his shoulder to skate backwards. He glided beautifully across the ice, effortless and full of fun. Your small strides were good but not as freeing as the way he moved.

Maybe it was the confidence you felt in accomplishing a very basic move but you wanted to make Bucky proud, step it up and really go for it. Without instruction you took off, pushing your blades harder into the ice to take longer strides.

Liberated was not the word you would use to describe your current mood. It was fear that settled deep within your bones. The fear of your legs shaking with unease, wobbling with every stride as you picked up speed. The fear of wanting to stop but realizing you never learned how. The fear that you were about to collide into– 

“Bucky!” you shrieked just before you slammed into him.

It happened so fast. Bucky was thrown off guard by the way you knocked into him. He tried to regain his balance and keep himself from falling but you weren’t helping. Panicked by the fear of hitting the ice, you grabbed onto him, legs flailing wildly– like Bambi, as you tried to regain your footing on the slippery surface. 

Your frantic grabs were a little too forceful, thwarting any of Bucky’s attempts to keep you both upright and within seconds you slammed to the ice pulling Bucky down with you. 

After the initial shock of falling on the cold hard surface, panic washed over your body and you looked over at Bucky hoping you hadn’t hurt him. His legs were out as he sat hunched over, his hair had come apart from the neat bun it was previously in and worst of all, he was silent.

“B-Bucky...” you spoke hesitantly, “You okay?” 

Your muscles ached as you pushed yourself to your knees. Bucky still hasn’t said anything. It felt like the ice cracked beneath you, with anxiety wrapping its claw around your leg and pulling you underwater. 

You swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath before you began extending your hand towards him. A sudden roar of laughter startled you, your heart skipped a beat as your arm snapped back beside you. 

A deep rumble came from the bottom of his stomach as Bucky’s entire face lit up bright red with laughter. Bucky couldn’t stop laughing, even as he slowly stood up, assisting you to your feet as well.

You were still holding hands, giggling about what happened when Wanda skated over. 

“I warned you,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her.

You and Bucky looked at each other, not even trying to stop the way your lips were pulling into smiles, your eyes crinkling as you both burst out with laughter.

It was decided that ice skating was over for you. You let the group know you’d be grabbing something to eat while they continued to enjoy the rink and not crash into each other.

“Do you want food food or snacks?” you asked, looking at the options of the various places within the glass atrium.

“How about both?” he answered, chuckling. 

There were a lot of things to choose from so you decided to split a few things to try a bit of everything. You paid, insisting you had to after knocking into him on the ice. 

Bucky carried the food to a table that was cramped in between other seats. You apologized as you elbowed him while trying to take off your jacket. It was warm inside thanks to all of the kitchens, a wonderful contrast to the weather outside. You sat underneath a canopy of lights with a perfect view of the rink and Christmas tree enjoying each other’s company.

“Are you excited?” Bucky asked about your upcoming trip as he took a swig of his spiced ale.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to go home. I haven’t been back since June.” Seeing your parents just a few times a year is not what you envisioned but you knew living in New York meant making sacrifices.

“How are you going to survive a week without me?” Bucky teased, leaning closer to you as he grabbed some fries.

You smiled, teasing back, “I’ll have to blast some music through the walls to remember you by.”

Bucky playfully nudged your shoulder and you both laughed, unaware you had company. Clint and Natasha stood in front of your table asking if they could join you. It had gotten a lot more crowded since you first got there and that felt like something you should have noticed but you and Bucky were so lost within your conversation you hadn’t paid attention.

“Mmmm this is so good,” Bucky said, with his mouthful of food, rolling his eyes back as he savored his s’mores doughnut. “Have some.”

He broke apart a large piece for you but your hands were still sticky from the caramel buns. You opened your mouth as a joke for him to feed you and unexpectedly he did, which led to more laughter as you asked for a napkin to wipe away the gooey marshmallow from the corner of your mouth.

Natasha and Clint shared a look with each other, and she smirked, raising her brow towards him. Clint signed something towards you that you didn’t quite understand. Something about you and Bucky with “sugar” possibly? You were still learning ASL so you weren’t really sure.

“Did you want some?” you pointed to your plate of desserts, in case that’s what they were talking about. 

Clint declined and Natasha spoke up, repeating the word he was signing before with her hands. “It means cute.” 

Your brows furrowed for a moment as you watched Clint sign again, “You look cute with Bucky.”

The realization hit you making you roll your eyes and chuckle. You brought your hand up to your mouth, closing your fingers against your thumb as you signed for him to “shut up.” This time you caught Natasha’s smirk and promptly ignored it, all while Bucky was clueless to the conversation happening in front of him. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassured him, staring back at Clint and Natasha.

Being back at home was a nice reprieve from constantly being on the go in New York. Here you could stop and take a breath, your mind quiet and at peace instead of hearing noise– all day there was noise. Jackhammers, car horns, people shouting, music playing. It was the music you missed the most ironically. 

You had grown accustomed to Bucky as your neighbor, and even though he no longer blasted the music through the walls you were always privy to hear what he was working on.

Kicking off your comforter, you got up from the bed to grab your phone that had been charging across the room. Since you left home your parents rearranged your old bedroom into a guest room, not taking into consideration the location of outlets. You tried not to be on your phone too much considering you had been away from them for months but now as they’ve gone to sleep you’re up and kind of bored, so you decided to check in on your friends.

You scroll through notifications, watching Instagram stories of Steve teasing Sam at the gym, Wanda posted a photo with her mom and another at Pietro’s grave which made your heart feel heavy in your chest. And then there was Bucky.

He brought the smile back to your face with the latest photo he texted you. The day after you went ice skating you woke up to a surprise, a selfie of him in the mirror. His shirt was lifted up slightly revealing a very toned stomach. He faced the side mostly as one hand was pulling down the fabric of his sweatpants revealing a large deep purple bruise that seemed to spread across his hip and backside. The overly exaggerated expression of pain on his face really sold the picture and you burst out laughing.

Every few days you were sent new photos as Bucky continued to tease you about the fall and today’s was no different. His bruise faded into a greenish splotch on his skin and Bucky crudely drew the outline of a tree around it with a messy yellow star on top.

You: Cute

Bucky: You think my butt is cute? 

You chuckled at the gif that followed, Milhouse suggestively raising his eyes, and promptly responded.

You: It looked better when it was purple

The rest of the night was spent texting back and forth until your eyes became too heavy and you fell asleep. A few days later you wished Bucky a Merry Christmas, bursting out with laughter during breakfast with your family as you saw his latest picture.

Bucky smiled through the white shaving cream that was spread across his face in the shape of a beard. He even coated his eyebrows with it; the perfect touch to go with his red Santa hat. 

Your mom asked what was so funny but you shrugged it off saying it was nothing. You’re not exactly sure why but you supposed it was easier to dismiss it than hear a speech about dating. Besides, you and Bucky were just friends.

Finishing the final touches of your makeup you took a moment to check everything in your bathroom mirror. Makeup done, hair perfect, earrings… Now where did you put those? Oh right! Your heels clacked along your floor as you strode towards your dresser, picking up the sparkling drop earrings that went perfectly with your outfit. 

Standing in front of your floor length mirror, you put them on, admiring your outfit. You were going to Clint and Natasha’s New Years Eve party and the invitation stated to dress in cocktail attire. 

You picked out a beautiful dress, shimmering in blush pink sequins that fell just above your knees. The collar was high and the sleeves were long, perfect for the bitter winter of New York; though you hoped you wouldn’t be too hot considering the amount of people that were going to be packed in a small apartment. 

Turning around you admired the rhinestones that decorated the heels of your champagne colored pumps. A knock at your door pulled you out of the sparkly trance and you knew it was Bucky. You agreed to be ready at this time so you could head upstairs together.

Opening the door you greeted Bucky with a big smile, taking in the way he wore the hell out of a slate blue suit. You had never seen him this dressed up before but he looked great. His shirt was a darker blue and the contrast between both really brought out his eyes.

You were so preoccupied by Bucky’s suit you completely missed the way he stood there frozen in silence. His mouth was agape, heart pounding a little harder against his chest as he just looked at you.

Realizing he had been staring for too long Bucky forced words to come out of his mouth. “Y/N… Y-you look incredible.”

Heat crept on your cheeks after hearing his comments, turning away to smile a little too awkwardly. 

“I need like half a minute if that’s okay.”

“Take your time. It’s not like we have far to travel.”

Bucky made himself comfortable on your couch. Although you had music playing he couldn’t pay attention to it. His eyes were drawn to you and he felt… well truthfully he felt a bit like a creep, staring at your bare legs and those sexy heels. 

Exhaling a deep breath, Bucky pulled out his phone trying to distract himself as you finished getting ready. He’s not sure what else you needed to do since you already looked perfect. Beyond perfect, you were stunning, beautiful… and there his mind goes again.

“Hey, would it be too much to ask if you can hold my keys?” you asked, pulling Bucky out of his thoughts. “My bag is small and I don’t want it scratching up my phone.”

“Yeah, ‘f course.” He smiled, standing up now that you seemed ready to go.

After locking your door Bucky secured your keys in his pocket and you walked to the elevators. His eyes were glued to your back, staring at your skin through the open cut out of the dress. 

The quick ride felt awkward as Bucky forced himself to look straight ahead but it was difficult, your dress sparkled in the hazy reflection of the elevator doors. It was impossible to not look at you, shining like the brightest star against the backdrop of night. 

“Wanda said Sam has to work tonight.”

He’s thankful for the small talk to focus his thoughts. “Oh really? That sucks. Is she still coming?”

The doors open and Bucky extends his arm for you to walk out first. “Yeah she’s on her way.”

You walked down the hall to Clint and Natasha’s apartment, with their front door being above Bucky’s but that’s where the similarities ended. As Natasha welcomed you inside you were in shock.

Their apartment was double the size, with a bright open space made brighter by the white walls and sleek black furniture. To the left was their kitchen with a marble island that looked wider than your bathroom. To the right was a closet and a giant bathroom complete with an enviable washer and dryer. The modern fixtures made everything look incredibly high end. Their bedroom was smaller but still they had a bedroom, unlike the studio apartments you and Bucky rented.

Natasha introduced you to some of the other guests. Some were Clint’s friends and coworkers and some were her own. She introduced her bosses, Matt and Franklin, and their dates Karen and Marci who were also her coworkers. Despite her collected exterior you knew she was nervous, this was the first time she was hosting them and she was eager to make a good impression.

Clint greeted you and Bucky offering to get you drinks. You made polite conversation with them until Steve and Peggy arrived, excusing yourself to say hello. Wanda was right behind them, pouting deeply as she sighed about not being able to kiss Sam when the ball drops.

“Foggy Bear, I’ll be right back,” Marci cooed, kissing him on the cheek, walking away with Karen following her.

He blushed, as a goofy smile spread across his face. “Heh, you know how it is.” He turned towards Bucky to ask, “How long have you and Y/N been dating?”

Bucky choked on his drink, coughing and turning a little red. “Y/N? Oh no, no, we’re just friends.” He felt a little embarrassed for making a scene, half wondering if the thoughts he had about you earlier were written all over his face.

Matt cocked his head, clasping his hands on the handle of his long cane. He wondered if he should tell Bucky he could hear the way his heart raced when Y/N was by his side. Instead he smiled in a way that said more than words could and Foggy seemed to understand. 

Bucky excused himself to mingle, finally saying hello to the rest of his friends that he spent most of the night with.

“One minute until midnight!” Clint shouted, raising the volume of the television that showed shots of a crowded Times Square filled with people as frozen as they were excited to be ringing in the new year. 

All of the couples quickly got together leaving you, Wanda and Bucky awkwardly standing beside each other.

“I’m gonna call Sam,” she said, heading to the bathroom for a better chance at hearing him through the noise.

The clock was ticking by and you chuckled awkwardly, not knowing what to say.  

“So…” 

“We don’t have to kiss,” he reassured you with a smile.   

It was nice to not feel the pressure, although as you looked around the room seeing everyone together you felt out of place. 

“We could though,” you said, meekly. “It’s tradition… to start the year with good fortune.”

Ten! Nine! Eight! ...

Bucky’s heart was racing quickly. “O-only if you want.” 

You nodded, smiling and he swallowed a thick lump.

Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!

Cheers erupted all around you followed by only the sounds coming from the announcers on TV as everyone paired together, heads tilting to lock lips.

You smiled coyly at Bucky, looking down and chewing on your lip. He took a step closer, and you lifted your head towards his. It was all too fast and yet agonizingly slow at once as his hand raised to cup your jaw.

Your eyes locked, and you were entranced by the way his pupils grew wider the closer he got. Bucky’s gaze went down to your lips, perfectly painted lips that fell slightly open awaiting his kiss.

Bucky leaned in, his eyes beginning to close until he felt the press of your hands against his chest. A small smile tugged on his lips and Bucky closed the gap between you. Your lips were soft against his as you kissed him, parting your mouth just enough for him to feel a slip of your tongue that sent sparks flying across his body. 

He kissed back, his soft lips caressing yours skillfully and unlike anything you had felt before. Your mind wandered briefly to the amount of women he’s kissed before. Have they all been like this? You push aside those thoughts to enjoy the moment, reveling in the magic of his lips. Bucky has stolen your breath away and you let him. 

A soft hum fell from your lips as you let go, your foreheads pressed together now as you try and catch your breath. As the TV showed fireworks erupting over the Hudson you felt your own, exploding in the pit of your stomach, unsure if this means good fortune or something else entirely. 

PART 11

[sparetimeimagines]

Weakness | Bakugou Katsuki

tags; fluff, angst, hospital, ptsd

Part 1

Masterlist

He didn’t know how much longer they were going to keep you apart. His fingers were tapping. His body aching. His heart pounding.

He just wanted to see you. What was so difficult about that?

Another hour passed when he finally gave up.

The surgery was taking longer than he expected. How difficult could it be to sear someone up? The tissue is gone. The bone is gone.

The light indicating surgery is in session fades to off and immediately his attention is stolen, much like his heart those years ago.

“She was beautiful. Not the beautiful plastered on magazines and tv commercials. Beautiful like the flower. Organic. Delicate to the touch.”

From the moment Katsuki laid eyes on you, it frustrated him. He didn’t understand why you were so important. Why is it you out of everyone in the room that caught his attention? Some quirkless nobody.

“Hey Dumbass.” They were the first words you heard.

Bright lights, the anesthesia was wearing off and the machine let off a beat that was endless.

Those bold crimson eyes trace your body like they always had, but this time he felt different.

Guilt. Shame. He should have been there.

His hand raises but instantly he retreats.

How can he touch you? How can he deserve to feel your smooth skin under his callused finger tips?

Instead, he relies on his eyes.

They pay attention to every detail. The bruise on your cheek some of the bastard struck you. The burns on your arms from the tight rope he insisted on keeping you still. Bandaged up left hand that gives the illusion of a fist.

It was everything he feared. Well, at least you’re alive.

“Ka-” you start, but then realize your voices is weak. Maybe it’s not the best thing to speak right now. Instead, you watch him with your lazy eyes.

Instead of seeing the love in his eyes, you see hate. Disgust.

After all that time of waiting to see you -Begging to see you- he leaves.

The man you owe your life to storms out the room, slamming the door on his way, leaving you wondering what you did wrong. Your eyes travel down your body and you begin to remember everything that’s happened. Bit by bit, piece by piece you realize that there’s a part of your life that will never be the same again.

The nurses came in, adjusted your IVs and the doctor even made an appearance.

They were kind and generous with their time.

It started with the warnings. Like how you will have nerve damage. How you will still feel nerves in areas of your body where you shouldn’t. How you will never wear a wedding band on the proper finger.

That must’ve been the reason why Kacchan left.

But what they didn’t tell you is how to explain to someone that bad things happen when it’s not their fault.

The room went silent once you were alone despite the beeping from the machine.

Being left alone with your thoughts was the last thing you wanted right now.

When was he coming back?

Was Katsuki coming back?

The door opens with a knock, much softer and collected than anything Suki was capable of.

In walks the darkest of green hairs you’ve seen on a person with the heart the largest you’ll will ever find.

“Deku...”

He returns your weak smile ends step closer to the bedside.

“Y/N.“ His soft eyes welled up with tears however he clears his throat to hold him back. “I’m so glad you’re ok.” His hands slowly creep close to yours, trying not to irritate the IV.

It was a simple friendship you formed as children. Back then, you both were quirkless in a superhero world. It was something simple to bond over. You didn’t feel so alone.

“I see you’re covered in bruises.“ You crack a small joke just to lighten the tension, and a tear threatens to fall.“Aww Deku... don’t ever change.“ His soft face brings peace to mind for a brief second before you check back at the door, your face drops.

“I would never.“ Midoriya brings his soft smile to your attention until he notices something’s still wrong. His eyes glance down at your hand then back to your face which is bruised.

“Your hand…”

“Yeah, Deku“ you pause raising your left hand for the first time since surgery. Your eyes study each dressing that secures the casing meant for healing.

“They told me it’s never going to be the same again.“

They must be pushing some kind of drug to take away the pain...

“But I guess I already knew that... you know... since I was there when it happened.”

“I’m really sorry.“ He says closely watching the injured limb. “I should’ve been there for you. You must’ve been so scared.“

“I was.“

He doesn’t say anything for a short moment, time passes when one thing comes to mind.

“Midoriya.” You start, gathering the courage to ask him what you really wanted to say. “Did you see Kacchan?”

You pause for a moment yet he doesn’t say anything until his eyes match mine.

“Y-yeah.” He chokes. “He was running out as I came in.”

So he really did leave...

Midoriya sits in silence as you observe your hand.

“I don’t understand, Deku.” You start, watching the clock on the wall tick. “Why would he leave me?”

“Don’t think of it like that, Y/n. I think he’s just afraid.”

“Kacchan’s never been afraid, Deku.”

“I wouldn’t believe that, Y/N.”

“I don’t know what to believe.”

Yelling and loud commotions distract the conversation to the hallway.

Your eyes grow heavy from the medication as the yelling comes closer.

“Sir visiting hours at this time is for immediate family only. You-” The nurse is cut off by the harsh voice yelling in the hall.

“I am her only family.” He replies winded, passing the nurse to find Midoriya and you.

“Sir.” The nurse warns.

“Deku, what the hell are you doing here? Get lost, you Nerd.” He shoves past Midoriya, putting distance between the two of you.

The nurse stands in the doorway with her arms crossed.

“Visiting hours are over.”

Midoriya immediately abides by the rules while Katsuki refuses standing his ground.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“She needs her rest.”

Midoriya meets the nurse at the door and asks to speak with her outside the room leaving you two alone.

“I’m back. I’m sorry. I’m not leaving you again.” He reaches for your hand then hesitates seeing the IV.

“It’s ok, Suki.”

He notices your eyes and realizes you’re wearing down.

“Are you ok, Petal?” His voice softens while his touch is sensitive.

Your lips form into a firm line and you manage to move over.

“Lay with me tonight.” Weakly, you pat the uncomfortable mattress. “I don’t want to be alone.”

The blond grunts and climbs into the bed without hesitation, aware of your injuries and comfort.

His head against the pillow, he flattens his back enough to pull you into his arms.

“You’re my everything, Y/N.” He mumbles into your hair leaving his lips pressed against your forehead. “You make me weak.” He mumbles.

“I do what?” You must not be hearing this right.

“That’s not what I meant.” He sighs. “You’re my weakness.”

Bakugou presses his head atop yours and embraces his silence. His rough fingertips gently slide over the wounds randomly scattered across your skin.

“You know I went crazy trying to find you.“

For once he’s actually keeping his tone low. You weren’t sure if it was how he’s trying to hide the fact that he’s soft on the inside or if it’s something else. “I couldn’t sleep. There’s no way I could’ve relaxed knowing that bastard had you.“

He pauses brushing the hair out of your face. “I had to find you. There’s no one in this world that means as much to me as you do.“

At that moment it wasn’t the aggressive explosion everyone is used to.

At that moment his guard was down and all he saw was you.

“The media got word. They were trying to break in the hospital to see you. They want pictures of you with your wounds. I had to do something about it.” His voice turns into his aggression, his anger begins to make a comeback when you squeeze his hand.

“When I left. I forced them to leave. They were…” he struggles. “They were talking about your parents. Calling them fallen heroes. Said that bastard murdered your family... This was their chance for a shot of glory. I wasn’t gonna let them turn you in to nothing.”

There’s so many emotions going through his system; he can’t decide on which he wants to use.

Anger. Guilt. Disgust.

“I wanted to do this the right way. Lights, candles, by the water the way you like. Under the gazebo where you can see the stars. I wanted everything to be perfect.” He stops to look at your damaged hand. “But... now, I realize time is so valuable, and life is so vulnerable. You’re my family and you mean everything to me.” He starts to get choked, and even though you’re the one who needs help, you are the one who needs to be taken care of, YOU are the one who’s making sure he is ok.

“Su-“

“Let me finish!“ He chokes with a short fuse. “Let me finish.“ He repeats himself with a much softer voice, hardly over whisper. You look to him and he has a soft smile almost hidden behind his angry eyes.

“Petal, I’ve loved you since we were kids. Since we were so young we didn’t know what love was. When I couldn’t find you, I was devastated. I didn’t understand that you were everything I’ve ever wanted. When there was a chance that i would never see you again, I felt a part of me break.” His voice is choking once more. “Great now I sound like some nerd.” he chuckles sniffling away his tears.

“You bring out the side of me that’s so dangerous and I wanted nothing more than to see you smile. You scare me; and nothing scares me in this world.“ He gets frustrated and pulls out an object from his pocket.

“Look, I’m trying to say I love you. And I never wanna see anything happen to you. I know things have happened, and our lives may never be the same again but I’m willing to work at it if you are.”

From his pocket he exposes a black velvet box. It’s small in his hand but you couldn’t believe your eyes.

The beautiful diamond that sat in the ring was more than anything you could’ve ever asked for.

“I saw it and immediately thought of you. It’s you. It’s you.”

By now he’s sobbing. Like the diamond, unlike any thing you’ve ever seen before, the energy he’s giving off, everything that he said would’ve fooled you into believing he’s somebody else.

“Who are you?” You ask, looking from his face to his hands and back to his face again. He chokes and sits up straight.

“Your husband if you let me.”

The machine beside you begins to be wildly, and the nurse along with Midoriya who is outside we came rushing in, exposing the moment between you and Bakugo.

“Get out you nerd.” He yells Midoriya who stutters.

“N-no. I need to see what she says.” The moment of bravery from the green one has you confused. The ring in the blond’s hands and shocked look on the green one’s face leaves you speechless.

“Well what do you say?“ Bakugou flushes from his cheeks and all you can do is nod.

“I promise you. When everything gets straightened out, I’ll make you the happiest person in the world.”

[gaeilgeoirgay]

Whumptober Day Thirteen

the edicts of a dead duchess

Paz curses as a white-plated soldier comes at him with a vibroblade. He twists the soldier’s arm and flips them over his shoulder, slamming them down on their head. He hears a crack and the soldier goes limp so Paz moves on. There’s are hundreds, thousands more coming after all.

A TIE-fighter screams over his head, destroying another Keldabe district but it’s shot down by a Komr’k with Clan Vhenn’s sigil. The Haat’ade Vhenn’s had been banished summarily by the New Dar’Manda but evidently, they care more about defending Manda’yaim than they do the edicts of a dead duchess.

Paz stabs another soldier and scoffs at the quality of their armour. It looks like an imitation of beskar’gambuyce but it’s a pretty shit replica. The plastoid snaps like a stick beneath Paz’s strength.

A flash of red and silver catches his eye and Paz sees the youngest Djarin trip a soldier over the edge of a bomb crater. There’s a scream and a crunch and when Paz ends up nearby a few moments later, he realises that the soldier had landed on the wreckage of a ship. It isn’t pretty.

Paz actually feels kind of bad for Djarin. The kid is barely past his verd’goten and it’s the second time he’s watching his planet be destroyed. Paz isn’t much older, twenty-two to Djarin’s fifteen, but seven years feels like a life time when you’re fighting like this. The kid’s already in severe need of mir’jahaal and this has probably set him back years.

Paz makes his way over to Djarin, resolving to watch the verd’ike’s back. The rest of the Djarin’s are nowhere to be seen and Paz sends up a silent request to the Manda to keep them alive. Djarin doesn’t need to lose another family.

The kid dispatches another soldier and catches Paz’s visor, giving him a nod of recognition. Paz nods back and they throw themselves into the fight. They kill dozens between them but it’s not enough. The call comes to fall back and Paz keeps an eye on Djarin as they head for the transport ship that’s just barely avoiding the enemy TIEs.

Djarin picks up a nasty slash though, a jagged vibroblade catching him in his upper arm, just between his komr’k and his pauldron. The kid stumbles and Paz yanks him back on his feet, practically carrying the kid the last hundred metres to the ship. Their vode stretch out their hands and haul them up, before grabbing as many more survivors as they possibly can and speeding out of atmo as if Kad Harangir kayshself was chasing them.

There’s well over three hundred Mandalorians on the ship but Paz knows these vessels can hold up to five hundred. It’s a sobering sight but it does mean that the small medbay can expand into the free rooms next to it. All of the severe cases are in the actual medbay so Paz carries Din into one of the closer rooms. A few Mandalorians follow them to give assistance if needed.

Din groans as Paz settles him on a bed but noise means he’s alive so Paz will take it. He tilts Djarin’s head towards him and tries his best to lock eyes behind their visors. Djarin follows the movement so at least the blood loss hasn’t started to affect his mind yet.

“Djar- Din, I need to take off your beskar’gam to get at your wound. Do I have your permission?” He asks and Din nods weakly so Paz starts unclasping his komr’k and laying it carefully to one side before doing the same with Din’s pauldron. Din’s flight suit is soaked with blood and Paz gratefully accepts a pair of medical scissors to cut through the stiffened material.

He hisses beneath his breath when he sees the torn skin below the suit. It’s at least six inches, and the jagged teeth of the blade had ripped through Din’s skin like butter. Paz estimates Din has lost at least a litre of blood at this point, and he’s still bleeding. The blood is clotting but so much of it is pouring out that Din’s system is struggling to keep up. His skin is cold to the touch but Paz refuses to lose another vod. Enough Mandalorians have died today.

“Get bacta, we’re gonna need to get this closed as soon as possible.” He orders but no one moves. He looks up to see sympathetic faces. “What? Djarin will bleed out without it!” He says but once again, nothing happens.

“The amount of critical patients caused the medics to run out of bacta. There’s none left.” One of the other Mandalorian explains and Paz feels his own blood drain from his face. Without bacta….. stitches will seal the wound but the gash is massive. They might not close it in time because every second, Din loses more blood.

“Cauterise it.” Comes a weak voice from the bed. Paz looks down at the younger Mandalorian and the gaping hole in his arm. Din’s right, even if Paz wishes he wasn’t. They need to seal it.

Someone pulls out a cauterisation tool from a medpack and hands it to Paz. He’s been decided as having the steadiest hands and also the only one Din probably trusts completely. He flicks on the tool but hesitates to place it down.

“Just do it, Paz.” Din grits out and Paz swallows before pressing the flame to Din’s arm, steadily moving it up the wound. Din screams through clenched teeth and the Kiffar Mando on his opposite side rubs a soothing hand up his uninjured arm. Din whimpers as Paz releases the tool and his heart twists at the pain the kid is feeling.

But they still have three inches to go. “Ready, kid?” Paz says but doesn’t wait for an answer, not wanting Din to tense. A cry of pain rips out of Din’s chest and Paz soothes him quietly, whispering an apology. Din is breathing harshly, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I’m done, verd’ika, you did so well, it’s over.” Paz says and Din groans incoherently. Paz wraps the burn with a clean bandage, careful to be gentle. They’ll have to get a proper baar’ure to look at it later, but it’ll keep Din alive.

Din slumps back on the bed and Paz takes a seat beside him, watching over him. He hasn’t seen any other Djarins aboard this ship and although he knows other ships must’ve helped evacuate, he knows its unlikely that Din’s second family has survived.

He’ll be okay though. Mandalorians are good at treating both physical and mental wounds and aliit is an important factor. If Din doesn’t have one anymore, then Paz is more than happy to be his ori’vod.

[out-of-jams]

Vesper || jjk

↠ Vesper↞ “There’s a first time for everything.”

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/Genre: doberman hybrid!kook. human reader. explicit language. fluff. PG 13. one shot.

This fic is apart of The Hybrid Collab hosted by @jeonggukkiepabo​! A special thank you to Anna for bearing with my idiotic forgetfulness, aka me writing this and then forgetting to post it over my hiatus. 🥴 ᵖˡˢ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ  (also it’s a lot shorter now than it had been when i’d written it bc sfw lol)

All works here are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission. That is illegal and you are stealing no matter if you give credit or not

Cold – adjective.

Definition: freezing your fucking ass off.

You were well acquainted with the word– all but became one with it– what, with how absolutely balls cold out it was. The line to get into Vesper was stretched all the way down the sidewalk outside of the building, and extended out of sight around the corner. Sounds of city life echoed through the streets, cars zooming in between traffic and music leaking out of the bars.

From the crack in Vesper’s backdoor, the beginning’s of a hip-hop song filtered from the expensive sound system. It was loud, eardrum-rattling so, and you closed your eyes, leaning against the brick wall off to the side. A cloud of white left your parted lips as your warm breath hit the biting chill in the air. It was too bad that you were nowhere near drunk enough for the weather not to bother you.

Why you’d chosen to follow your friends out in sub-freezing temperatures was a mystery. You hated clubs, how packed to the walls they were, filled with writhing bodies so close together like sardines. It made you feel utterly claustrophobic, but it was your friend’s birthday and so you couldn’t opt out of following along with the group’s plans for the night. Not that you were ever able to say no to them when they insisted on dragging you out to the place.

Vesper was a popular club that you were sometimes forced to go to, located in the heart of downtown that catered to not only humans, but hybrids as well. It wasn’t the first establishment to do so, seeing as how hybrids integrated into society more than a decade ago. No longer were they as discriminated against as they once were, back when they first came about.

No one was 100% certain on how they’d even come to be; some sort of radiation exposure. The first hybrids had been humans, before they changed, morphed. Due to some sort of exposure to radiation, their cells had multiplied and transformed over the course of a few weeks until half of their genetic makeup resembled animal genes.

While the blatant racism had died out over the years, some, the more elitist members of society, still discriminated against hybrids. Looked down at them because they were born to be ruled more by their animal instincts than their human counterparts. Treated them as less-than because they weren’t completely human, when they were really just misunderstood.

Because of the fact that they were more tapped into their animal side and therefore behaved that way, hybrids used to be seen as beings who could be let loose into society. Who could not “control themselves.” So they took them as pets, tried to tame and sell them.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you fished a cardboard box from the inside pocket of your coat. The sound of you tapping out a white cigarette was in time with the beat of the song pouring outside, and blended in with the cars honking out past the alleyway. Normally, you weren’t one for smoking. But after the stress of college finals week on top of the feeling of the walls closing in on you back inside Vesper, you’d asked one of your friends for their carton in hopes of calming your racing heart.

“Shit,” you murmured as you scoured your pant pockets for a lighter and then groaned when you failed to find one.

Because of course, your luck was anything but lucky and you really didn’t feel like trying to part the sea of sweaty people back inside in search of one. Pursing your lips, you let your head tip back against the brick wall behind you and let your eyes flit over the light polluted sky like it somehow held the answers to all of your life’s problems.

“Need a light?”

The addition of a new voice had you jumping away from the wall with a startled squeak. Hand pressed to your chest as if that would somehow restart your skipping heart, you whirled around. Standing in the now wide-opened back doorway into Vesper was a familiar face. Well, as familiar as a practical stranger could be.

Beneath the single, flickering light in the alley, his black t-shirt with SECURITY printed in white glowed in the surrounding darkness. It stretched itself over his broad shoulders, the bottom tucked into the slim waist of his pants. Your gaze slowly slid up his tanned neck, past his coral colored, pouty lips, sharp jaw, and the straight bridge of his nose. His wavy, dark hair was parted a little off-center, the sides falling over his forehead until it threatened to hide his stare from your view.

Finally, your eyes met his. Framed by long eyelashes, they were a bright, inhuman shade of lilac. Not all hybrids were equipped with the features of one, like a set of sensitive, animal-like ears or even a tail. If a human and a hybrid got together and had children, those kids would end up possessing more human cells than animal. Therefore, their appearances mirrored that.

But they were never completely indiscernible.

Just like every other time you’d ever laid your sights on him, your pulse skyrocketed and your stomach fell through the floor. And also like every other time, you pushed the feeling away and refused to acknowledge it. Because harboring a crush on a man who you’d only conversed with occasionally was a bad idea.

Especially when they were as handsome as he was.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jungkook apologized shyly. His voice wasn’t too deep, nor was it high; lying right in the middle. Switzerland

“No, it’s alright.”

It was notalright, if only because the man made you feel flustered.

The only time the two of you really interacted was whenever he’d be scheduled to man security at Vesper’s entrance checking IDs. A small comment about the weather here, a compliment given with a flash of a smile with the reddening of cheeks there. Hell, the only reason you even knew his name was because it was etched onto the heart of his shirt.

“So,” Jungkook began, still standing in the doorway like some kind of club guardian. “Need a light?” He nodded his head at the unlit white stick tucked between your fingers, his parted hair brushing across his eyebrows with the movement.

“Oh. Yeah, you have one,” you asked.

He answered your query by pulling a lighter from the back of his pants pocket and finally slipped away from the door, leaving it open a crack so the two of you wouldn’t get locked out. The music flooding out from inside quieted down to a barely-there whisper. Pressing the cigarette between your lips, you almost faltered when he stepped close to you.

Jungkook’s body heat practically swallowed you whole as he entered your personal space with a cute smile pulling up at the corners of his lips. His two front teeth were a little too big for his mouth and you would’ve suspected his animal counterpart to be a bunny or rabbit of some sort if it wasn’t for his job. The small mammals tended to be pacifists and you doubted working as a security guard counted towards pacifism.

The lighter came to life with a clickand a tiny burst of flame, and you watched from beneath your lashes as he lit the end of your preferred cigarette. As soon as you felt the heat of the smoke sear itself into your lungs, a thought came to you.

“Wait,” you began, lowering the white stick from your lips to dangle from your cold fingers. “Doesn’t the smell bother you?”

Jungkook’s cheeks puffed up beneath the weight of another smile and he stepped back from crowding you to lean a shoulder against the brick wall. “My roommate, Yoongi, smokes. So I’m used to it.” He tapped a finger to his nose.

“If you’re sure,” you said hesitantly.

“I’m sure.”

Humming, you resumed your position of leaning against the brick, your shoulder only a few inches away from his. Hybrid’s tended not to wear perfume or cologne because of their elevated sense of smell, but Jungkook must have been wearing some. Or perhaps it was just the scent of his laundry detergent that drifted from his body like an invisible cloud.

It was comforting. In a way that you couldn’t quite understand.

Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, you took a slow drag from your cigarette and made care to blow the resulting smoke away from him. “Ditching work?”

He was looking out past the alleyway and towards the busy street beyond. Jungkook’s side profile was stunning even in the near darkness. “Technically, I amworking.”

“Oh?” Your voice was filled with amusement. “Expecting someone to pop out from the darkness like Batman and attack the club?”

He snorted, his tongue darting out to wet his soft looking lips. “Batman would never attack a club.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” Shrugging, you sneaked a peak over at him again to notice him already looking at you. His violet hued eyes glowed brightly as they roved over your features appreciatively.

“How about a first date then?”

You sputtered, choking on nothing except air at his blunt words. “I–what?”

Jungkook broke eye contact for a moment, your reaction coaxing a light shade of pink onto his cheeks. “I like you. And I know we don’t really know each other, but we always end up running into each other, which is why I want to change that.” He looked back at you, expression soft. “If you’re interested, of course.”

“I..,” swallowing, your mouth opened and closed in shock before your tongue finally let the syllables slip. “I would like that very much.”

His answering grin lit up the shadows lingering in the alleyway.