#this is the last time don't care how we do it just as long as we can love under the same sky all we got is tonight

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Learning to celebrate the little wins!

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part thirty-two —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 5.1k tags: death. blood and gore. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. enemies to lovers. SA and implication of child SA (very subtle). summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: clearly I am bad at estimating how long this story will take lol

The tray of food crashes to the floor at her feet. Salome gasps. Her hand shoots back, fumbling for the doorknob, and her lips part, ready to call the guard you know is just outside.

"If you call for the guard," you stop her, "I’ll cut deeper."

She clamps a hand over her mouth. "Please—stop! Hurting yourselves is a sin, a great dishonor to the body God gave you—"

“It is,” you agree calmly. You press the shard deeper into the cephalic vein, ignoring the bite of pain. Blood spills in a fresh, startling curtain down your arm, the wound mimicking the severity of an arterial cut. “And she’ll blame you for it. You’re the one she entrusted to watch over us, and you didn't notice we broke one of the mugs."

"I did not think you would—"

"What happens to you,” you cut her off, pointing the bloody shard at her stomach, “—and your baby when the two new child-bearers die because of your failure? Because I will die, if I cut any deeper. This artery,” you lie, tapping the wound for emphasis, “is important. If I finish slicing through it, I’ll bleed out in less than a minute. Not enough time for you to get help. Not even enough to try saving me yourself.”

Her lashes flutter rapidly through a swell of tears. "You could have a good life here—"

"Answer me. What happens to you if I die?"

She swallows hard. "She’ll punish me," she whispers frightfully. "I have seen what happens to those who fail her. She might take my child and I will... never see them. Please, don’t do this—”

"Why should we care about you and your child when you are okay with them killing an eleven-year-old girl tomorrow?"

A flash of shame crosses her face. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't know Maman would want the girl. The offering has never been so young before. But it is God's will, there is nothing I can do to—"

"What you can do is open the cell. Open it and we will kill Maman, then you won't have to worry about anyone taking your baby. But if you don't open it, then we die in here and you will face her punishment."

Her lips part, but nothing comes out. She looks between you and Nereida, eyes darting wildly, fingers twitching against her stomach. 

"Decide before I bleed out!"

"I... I can't," she says pitifully.

With a glance at Nereida, she takes her cue, digging into her vein.

"Open the cell," Nereida urges far more soothingly than you can, blood dripping to her elbow. "We won't hurt you. We want Maman gone, not you."

Salome whimpers under her breath, but her fingers move before her mind catches up, reaching inside her robe to retrieve the key, gripping it like it might burn her. She shuffles closer but pauses, inhaling deeply before finally reaching the door. Her hands shake so violently that the key rattles against the lock. It slips against the metal, failing to match the hole, and your finger twitches when she nearly drops it.

"Mais si elles ne parviennent pas à la tuer..." The whisper leaves quietly, lost beneath the veil. "Sa punition pour moi sera pire."

Then, her hand curls back around the key.

She swallows hard—and steps back.

No. 

You see red.

A growl curls at your mouth and you snap forward, grabbing onto her dress through the bars before she can retreat too far, and pulling her flush against them, her forehead banging into the metal. Before she can scream, you clamp a bloody hand over her mouth and then press the piece of broken mug to her neck with just enough pressure to make her panic. She gasps into your palm, struggling. You dig it harder, forcing her body to turn still and rigid.

"Twix—"

"I tried doing things the nicer way," you speak in a low snarl, veering off the script you and Nereida conjured. Round, glossy eyes stare into yours. "You should have made up your mind before getting within my reach. Now give her the key. I’d hate for my hand to slip."

Another sharp press into her skin wrings a squeak from her, her breath coming out jagged and uneven against your palm. Trembling, she extends an arm through the bars, offering the key to Nereida.

The moment Nereida takes it, she fumbles to find the lock from the outside, her fingers searching blindly. The key scrapes against the metal—once, twice—before a soft click finally reaches your ears.

The door swings open.

You don’t hesitate. Keeping your grip firm over Salome’s mouth, you shove through the opening and swing around to the other side. Before she can react, you force her back into the cell, driving her onto the bed. The veil tears free from her head as you pin her down, your weight pressing her into the mattress, the sharp fragment still poised at her throat. When her legs begin to flail helplessly, you order Nereida to grab them. She clasps Salome's ankles to keep her from bucking you off.

"You were afraid of the wrong person," you hiss, your nose nearly brushing hers. "Maman may have spared your life because she values her baby makers—but I don’t. Answer everything I ask, or I’ll show you just how merciless I can be."

The dishonest threat rolls off your tongue with enough force to make her nod frantically, fear widening her eyes. But what she doesn’t need to know—what you won’t let her see—is the part of you still holding back. Because even now, even as you pin her down and press the shard to a vital piece of her throat, you’re careful. You don’t dig hard enough to damage. You don’t let your weight bear down on the swell of her stomach.

"I'm glad we understand each other. I am going to lift my hand, and you're not going to scream. You're going to tell me everything we need to know about the guards out there."

Her lips are puffy and raw when you set them free. 

"There is only one outside the d-door," she sputters in a whisper. "B-but there are more... more by the... h-homes and the keep."

"The keep?"

"Where they keep the new m-males," she chokes out, snot dripping from her nose.

"That's in the old slaughterhouse, right?"

She nods.

"How many guards are over there exactly?"

"I do not know." At your glare, she rushes out, "B-but there are less after d-dinner ends. Many go to sleep, and switch shifts at sunrise."

You mull over the information, eyes darting across her face. “And the child—the offering? Where is Maman keeping her?”

A terrible look of fear ripples through her eyes. "Only few are allowed near the offering b-before her ascension. 

"So you're telling me you don't know?" you seethe in her face.

She sobs. "I know they... they will offer her to the démons right before the sun rises. The night is when God’s wrath is strongest, but it’s in the morning—when hope ascends—that we seek atonement."

Despite further pressing, that seems to be the extent of what she knows—or she's still withholding. Either way, you're satisfied enough. You rip strips of the sheet, using one to gag her and two more to bind her wrists and ankles. You and Nereida wrap your wounded wrists tightly to stop the flow. Then, you remove her white gown. You’ll need something to wear that doesn't easily mark you as an escapee, but there’s only the one white dress and veil. You hurriedly slip into them, making sure all of your hair and face is hidden, leaving Nereida still in the thin slip. The shoes Salome wears are thin and made of unsupported leather, but they are all you have to tuck your bare feet into.

Salome said there will be fewer guards after dinner. You and Nereida listen carefully to every sound that bleeds through the window. When you hear a few exchanges of bonne nuit, you figure people are starting to retire for the night. You take this as your cue to grip your makeshift weapon. The guard outside the door is expecting Salome to leave at some point, giving you the perfect opportunity to catch him off-guard while dressed as her.

You quietly open the door to the warm summer night, the long gown ghosting around your ankles. As expected, a well-built man leans against the side of the building, arms crossed languidly. No one else is in sight, which brings you some relief. When his gaze shifts to you, he raises a brow.

"Tout va bien, mademoiselle? Vous êtes restée là-dedans un moment."

The last word barely makes it out of his mouth. Within a heartbeat, you spring at him like the head of a snake, one hand over his mouth and the other stabbing his neck with the shard, then sweeping it through the thick of his trachea. A gush of blood oozes out in one thick stream, before he gargles out a strangled choke and turns to dead weight against the wall. 

With Nereida's help, you quickly push his body inside the building to keep anyone from spotting it. 

"Wear this," you usher, already starting to undress him. Like the man who visited you, he's wearing a grey cloak. Though it's too big for her, and bloodied, it will be enough to keep her discreet in the dark, her long hair safely tucked beneath the hood.

Two things race through your mind: the ticking time toward sunrise and the fact that you still don’t know how many more men you’ll have to take out to reach Ghost, Price, and Kyle. The knife you find on the guard adds a small weapon to your shitty arsenal. You have no idea where they could’ve stored the guns and ammo they took from you, or your bow. How you'll manage to fight through a community of cultists without those is a worry you can’t afford to dwell on right now—one step at a time.

After a few minutes of collecting yourselves, urgency pulls the two of you outside, free from the barred enclosure for the first time in almost four days. In the blanket of night, you quickly scan the area, taking in what you’re up against. The community appears fairly spread out, with only six small farmhouses like the one you just escaped from, along with a few larger structures in the near distance—likely where they house the men. You catch a glimpse of a fenced pasture’s perimeter and the unmistakable stench of cattle fills the air. Despite the faint shuffle of hooves and grey plumes of smoke from a few of the chimneys, everything is eerily still, leaving an unnerving amount of quiet for your heart to shatter through.

From what you can see, there aren’t many places to hide Blue, but there could be more to this place beyond what’s visible, especially since the chapel you first saw is nowhere in sight. But none of that matters right now; you need to find the others first if you’re going to have any real chance of saving her and getting out of here.

The next male you encounter spots you first as you make your way up the gravel road towards the barn, the sound of his boots making your hand tighten on the knife's handle. He greets you unassumingly in French, causing Nereida to startle beside you as his shadow approaches. Then he stops in front of her, his shoulders tensing and his hand hovering near a knife at his waist.

"Que fais-tu avec la femelle? C’est interdit!"

Again, you go for the throat, desperate to silence any screams that could cause alarm. You get a good swipe at the base of it, but he is at least a head taller than you, making it difficult to stab fully. He grabs you by the waist, clearly in shock that a veiled female just sprung on him with a knife, but swipes a fist at your face nonetheless. The force spreads through your temple, thrusting your head to the side. 

"Take the knife from him," you hiss at Nereida through the pain, who until now was effectively frozen. She finally moves, using the distraction you've caused as he clutches his bleeding neck, and snatches the knife still hanging at his waist. Once she has it, you leap at the disarmed man again, this time stabbing his liver. With a muffled grown, he face-plants into the gravel, quickly soaking it with blood. 

"The body," she stutters worriedly. "We need to hide it."

You look around, spotting stacks of chopped wood.

"Over there. Help me drag him."

Once the body is heaved behind the logs, you pat him down in search for anything else, but there's nothing.

"Keep that on you," you tell her, and she gives a quick nod, hiding the knife under her sleeve.

You keep following the road up to the fence, your white dress splattered with crimson, resembling the dotted stars overhead. The 'keep' is somewhere by the barn that man said, but you notice smaller buildings to the right and to the left of it. Which one looks like an old slaughterhouse? It's too difficult to tell even when you squint, so you grab Nereida's arm and quickly lower by a bush.

"Watch that one, and I'll keep an eye on this one. Whichever building has more guards patrolling is probably where they're holding them."

"Okay," she whispers, peering around the bush.

Minutes pass. The building on the right has more shadows skirting around it—three guards total. You take a moment to study their movements. One is stationed near the back, the other two at the front.

"I want you to take the one at the back and wait for me. I'll handle the other two."

"How do I take him?" she whispers uncertainly. "He’ll see me coming."

"You’ll come at it from an angle." You point toward a stack of hay. "Sneak over there, quietly. Once you're behind it, circle around and approach where he can't see."

She hesitates, rubbing the back of her hand across her forehead. "I’ve never—"

"Never killed anyone?" 

The way she grips the knife, her fingers white on the handle, confirms it.

"These people deserve it, Nereida," you say, forcing her to meet your gaze. "John is in there."

She closes her eyes, and for a moment, the weight of it all presses down on her. When she opens them again, her jaw is set, and her grip on the knife tightens.

After reminding her where to strike, you pause for a moment, watching as she sneaks over to the hay. Then, you move toward the other two, slipping behind a tree for cover, but your foot catches on something and you almost trip, catching yourself against the bark. Your breath hitches and you steal a peek at them to make sure they didn't hear you. No—they are too busy murmuring to each other, laughing in a low exchange.

When you glance down, you spot a shovel half-buried into the ground, its handle sticking out. Carefully, you wriggle it free, having to grit your teeth to fully remove it. This will let you stun one while you deal with the other. Inhaling deeply to center yourself, palm tight over the splintered wood handle, you close in on the two guards.

The shorter one with curly hair spots you just before you take a swing, his eyes widening. The shovel slams into his skull, effectively making him stumble to the ground, but slips from your grip from the force. The other guard whirls around, hand slapping for the pistol at his belt. You deliver three consecutive stabs to his stomach, heart, and cheek. The gun never leaves his waist before he falls dead.

You suck in a gulp of air just as the curly-haired one regains his footing. His head is still heavy from the blow, and before he can draw his knife, you shove him in the chest, sending him crashing to the ground. You pin him easily beneath you, his movements sluggish and weak. The two of you wrestle in the grass, jagged breaths mixing with frantic, scraping nails, until, with a snarl, your knife finds purchase in his neck, stealing the life from his eyes in an instant. You stab him again and again, shaking, until the ticking urgency pulls you back into control. With a deep breath, you steady yourself and wiggle the knife lodged in his trachea, your hands slippery with blood.

"You got death," you spit in a whisper, thumbing his lids shut.

You lift up.

Now you have a single gun.

It is an old thing. Outdated and far from the military-grade weapons Ghost has. It takes a moment to figure out the parts—your fingers fumble for the small magazine, which is stocked with three bullets. You pull the slide to chamber a round with a click and keep it ready in your hand as you circle the building toward the back, praying that Nereida managed. When you find her, she is stood over the man's body, a deep cut oozing on her cheek.

"He saw me," she says, swallowing. "But I did it."

You nod. "We need to hide them before we go in."

All three bodies are hidden behind the hay stacks. You cover them with manure to mask the smell, not wanting a horde of Greys to materialize. You'd spotted a door at the back and hope it may be more discreet then blazing in through the front, given that you don't know who all is in there. Finger ready on the trigger, you hold your breath as you lead Nereida into the old building, instantly met with the rich smell of pennies. The space quickly unfolds into an old butcher house, rusted hooks hanging from the stone ceiling, the air cramped and cold. 

"Une femme? Maman ne voudrait pas de toi—"

The voice echoes in your ear as you round the corner, and then a fiery bullet rips into the owner's chest. Nereida flinches. Another guard comes barreling over, shouting, but you slide the chamber and shoot him in the head.

You don't linger by the bodies, itching to check the first steel door you see. You lower the gun only to pull at the handle, but it won't budge.

"Check him for keys," you motion to the dead guard.

Nereida crouches, hands rifling through his pockets until she yanks free a ring of keys. Her fingers shake as she tries them one by one, the lock stubborn—until, at last, it gives. With a sharp tug, the door groans open, revealing a windowless chamber. In the center, a lone captive hangs from chains.

It’s Price. Shackles bite into his wrists, his bare chest mapped with deep bruises against pale skin. Beaten, but unbroken—his gaze sharp as it lifts to meet yours. Nereida chokes on a sob, ripping the hood off her head and sinking to her knees before him, cupping his jaw.

A weighted baritone manages: "Duchess."

"There is nowhere I will not find you," she croaks. Teary kisses find the corner of his mouth. "I'm here, I'm here."

"How did you—"

"We got out. Where are the others?" you ask.

His jaw grits. "I haven't seen them since they knocked us out."

"They must be here somewhere. We need to move quick before someone notices the bodies."

After finding the small key to undo the manacles, you leave them to each other for the moment, continuing down the hall until the next door. An undeniable pull rises in your chest, something that has nothing to do with the adrenaline rushing through you—something you can’t quite name. But when you open the door, your heart falters with unwelcome disappointment at the sight of Kyle. He looks equally battered, but still aware enough to lift his head as you step in.

"Who are you?" 

You lift the veil.

"It's me," you answer, the words almost lost in the rush of emotions. Only when you fully take in the room do you notice Ari, curled in the corner. They’ve put them in here together. While there are no obvious injuries on the boy, the sight of the open Bible on his lap, and the empty dinner plate beside him, sends a cold shiver down your spine. You touch his cheek, feeling warmth, and reassure him he’s safe.

You release both of them. "Price and Nereida are through the door down the left. I need to find Ghost. I’ll be back."

Kyle rubs his wrists and manages to stand despite his black eye and shaky legs. "I’ll come with you."

"No. I’ll get him." The words come out sharper than you mean to, but you turn away before he can question them.

You are pulled further through the tight, cold hallway, movements turning more hurried as you look around. There are a few more half-opened doors, but they only lead to supply closets filled with whips and metal batons and empty chambers where old blood stains the floors. Something sharp tugs at your heart, and for the first time since initiating your escape, your fingertips succumb to a tremor of fear. 

Where is he?

The hall spits out into a room where dried animal carcasses hang from the walls.

One final door sits on the far end.

The rusted lock resists, swears hissing from your lips—until a sharp kick forces it open.

The smell thickens with fresh blood, and a cold pit sinks into your stomach at the sight of him—bound in chains, his body slumped haphazardly. Unlike the others, he doesn’t lift his head. You rush forward, a shaky breath catching in your throat as you take in the blood caked on his shoulder blades, deep welts splitting through the inked skin. His back, too, is covered in wounds. He looks worse—so much worse—that a bite of anger swells moisture in your eyes.

"Simon, you idiot. What did you do?" The words slip out on a sharp inhale as you lower yourself in front of him. "Simon," you whisper again, silent tears hot against your lips. You thread a hand through his hair, tilting his jaw up with careful fingers. His eyes are heavy, but relief finds you when they flutter open. He’s alive. The reddened whites flicker over your face, unfocused—until something strange sharpens the haze. A flicker of fear.

"It's me, Simon. We're getting out of here."

The brief fear shifts into shock when he recognizes your face, and only after you fumble with the key ring does understanding click into place, causing his jaw to flex. "Where... where is she?"

"I don't know, but we need to hurry. They have her." You undo the manacles, and his body rolls heavily into you, face falling onto your collarbone. You struggle to hold him up, gripping his shoulders without touching the wounds. A low groan bleeds through his teeth, and his eyes flutter shut again. No, no, no. "Please, you have to... you have to get up, Simon. I can't—she's going to fucking die!"

His upper chest rapidly expands with a breath, and he musters the strength to lift his weight off you and slap a hand against the wall. As he leverages his weight up, you help by grabbing beneath his other arm, until a final rush of adrenaline gets him on his feet. Urgency snaps tension into his limp shoulders, and he growls out another, more steady, breath.

"Price," he says.

"He's alive. Come on."

It takes some effort to help him walk at first, but eventually, he manages on his own. You guide him to the first room, where the others are pacing, murmuring in low voices.

"Simon, Jesus," Price mutters when he sees him.

Ghost brushes it off, his eyes narrowing. "They're going to kill her."

"At sunrise," you add, your voice tight. You pull out the pistol and show it to them. "I have one bullet left. I don't know how many more men are in this cult, but we've killed six so far."

"We have one shitty old gun." Kyle growls in frustration. "They took all our shit. How are we going to—"

"We find the weapons. They must have stored them somewhere," Price says.

"We can't just go searching through every building here. We don't have the time," you press. "And how are we supposed to get it back without everyone noticing we're gone?"

"I don't give a fuck about the guns. We find her first," Ghost grits, nostrils flaring. 

"We can't help her if we don't think things through. We can't just start a war with these people empty-handed, Simon," Price says.

"We find her first!"

"Simon," you say, reaching for his arm, but he pulls it away, clenching his bloody fist. The energy radiating from him would scare you if you didn't feel the same way.

Just then, there is the faint sound of a door opening and footsteps clanging through the hall. You tense up, two male voices shouting in echoes, one of them vaguely familiar.

"Quelqu'un les a tués ! On doit régler cette merde avant que Maman découvre quoi que ce soit."

"Les putains de prisonniers!"

Before you can react, Ghost snatches the pistol from your grip. The second they rush toward the open door, he launches at them—an elbow to one’s face, the butt of the gun breaking the nose of the other. Price uses Nereida's knife to stab the fallen guard, while Kyle helps Ghost subdue the second one. You only recognize him as the man who made you strip when they forcibly drag him toward the manacles, the sight of his blonde hair making your nails curl into your palms.

"You stupid fucking Brits!"

Ghost strikes the gun into his left eye, making him jerk within the constraints, howling as the socket turns into bloody pulp. 

Kyle grips the man's scalp from behind to hold his head up, while Ghost presses the gun into his cheek, where you notice a wound shaped like a bite mark.

"Tell us where she is," he roars. "Or I'll take the other eye."

Nereida cowers into the corner, holding onto Ari's arm. 

"I don't know!" the man spits blood, and Ghost digs the gun into his cheek, ripping it open further until the bitten flesh hangs as a torn flap, exposed all the way to his eye. The scream that follows feels inhuman. "I swear, I don't—I don't fucking know!"

Fresh blood drips to the floor. Price, much more calm, lowers at the man's side. "How many people live here?"

The man grits his teeth, struggling to answer, "T-thirty males, and six females. Plus the infants."

Twenty-two now, you count in your head.

"And the weapons we had. What about those?" Price questions further.

When only staggered, pained breaths fills the room, Ghost tosses the bloody gun and grabs the knife from Price, stabbing the man's kneecap without hesitation. Another scream ensues, and there is the small itch to cover your ears, but you steel yourself against the wall to keep watching.

"Answer the fucking question." Ghost twists the knife in his knee.

He cries out, more bloody spittle flying from his mouth. "All of the ammo is hidden. Only A-Alexandre knows!"

"Who is Alexandre?"

“Maman's son, he enforces her commands and oversees the males.”

"Where is he?" Price asks, voice hard.

“He… he resides in the work shed, while the rest of us sleep in the quarters within the barn.”

You step forward. "We saw another building outside with just one guard, that must be it."

There is a beat of silence as Price processes the information, giving Ghost a satisfied nod. With pain still contorting his face, the man's eye drifts past Ghost's shoulder toward you. His lips twitch into a faint, bloody smirk that makes your skin crawl. Ghost follows his gaze, snarls, and abruptly slashes the man's throat from ear to ear.

B

It is still dark when Eloise comes to awaken her, though Blue's eyes never once fell shut with sleep. She spent the short-lived night alternating between staring at the crescent moon outside the window, and fiddling with the knitting needles left on the table. There is a new dress in the woman's clutch, beautiful white fabric embroidered with flowers, and a pair of beautiful leather shoes in the other hand.

"See? I told you the dress would be nicer." She smiles and hands it over, as if to offer something to be thrilled for. "You must change quickly. There is a lovely breakfast of framboises and milk waiting for you. Put these on as well." She sets the shoes on the floor.

Blue thinks it strange, to bother feeding her just before her death. Blankly, she asks, "How many people will be there? To watch me die."

Eloise's smile quivers slightly, a slight crack in her composure. "Not too many, I assure you. Only a few of us women, and one or two worthy men. Most are still sleeping." After a pause, she adds even quieter, almost ashamed, "Be thankful you don’t suffer through childbirth instead. It is... a painful thing. Long, too. At least this pain will be honorable and swift."

Blue's fingers tighten around the dress. "Okay. Do you mind if I change alone, please?"

Eloise bows her head. "Of course."

She casts one last gentle glance her way before shuffling out of the room, locking the door behind her and leaving Blue with only the dress and shoes. Once the door is closed, Blue quickly slips the dress on, shuddering as the cold fabric caresses her limbs. It’s more beautiful than anything she can remember ever wearing, and that disgusts her. Swallowing the churn in her stomach, she grabs the needles and sits back on the bed.

The wounds on her feet are shallow, her fingernails only able to pierce the thick skin slightly. Using the needles, she digs into them deeper, trembling from the pain that throbs as fresh blood begins to seep from the soles. She cuts and cuts furiously, teeth gritted, praying it’s enough to soak into the shoes she slips on over the new wounds. She covers the blood stains on the sheet with the blanket, then stands, almost crying out from the agony of walking on her torn feet.

"Please dad," she whispers, closing her eyes briefly, before calling to Eloise that she is ready.

"But if they don't manage to kill her... her punishment for me will be worse." "Is everything alright, miss? You've been in there for a while." "What are you doing with the female? It’s forbidden!" "A woman? Maman wouldn’t want you—" "Someone killed them! We need to fix this shit before Maman finds out anything." "The fucking prisoners!"

[bi-writes]

hi! i was thinking if you could write an older!boyfriend simon x reader BUT reader is john price's daughter so is kinda of a forbidden and secret relationship !!!! they've been dating for a long time now until john finds out !!!!!

18+

"how is she?"

"doing well, john. but you don't have to worry about her anymore, you know that right? she's not yours to worry about."

"she is mine. i know she's not..." john huffs. "she may not be blood, but she's mine, yeah? so when i ask 'ow she is, you tell me, kate. can we agree on that?"

"sure, john. she's in georgia. her russian got very good. if you want to know my honest opinion, i think she'll be one of my best."

"well...i wouldn't stand for anythin' less."

"john?"

that voice is music to him. he turns, taking his hat off, and he laughs, genuinely, when he sees you. his whole face lights up, and you make your way to him. it's been months since you've seen him in person--even though he makes you send him constant updates about what you're doing and where you are, you find yourself missing this man and the warmth he gives off whenever you are in his proximity.

he's always looked at you so kindly. he's always taken care of you. whenever you pick up the phone, he's always answered.

"'ello, bug."

he crushes you in a warm hug. he puts a hand on the back of your neck and holds you to his chest, and the tension in his shoulders deflates now that he has you with him.

"hi, john. miss me?"

"well...you were the only one with sense in my house."

"you live alone, john."

"aye."

he pours you a hot cup of tea before he makes you tell him all about your new posting. most of it is classified, and you tell him that, but his face lights up when you talk about the new skills you're learning and all the opportunities that kate is giving you. his face scrunches a little when you talk about the more dangerous ops, but john never has the same regard for his own life.

the mess hall gets busy once dinner time rolls around. his men were not expecting you, and that much is clear when they see their captain even enjoying a meal in public and not secluded in his office. you smile at his sergeants, but when your gaze lingers a little longer on the doors, johnny just nudges you with his elbow.

"miss the big guy?"

"what? no."

"he had a long night last night," he wiggles his eyebrows at gaz, who just laughs a little. "i might need to try the whole brooding, scary look LT has got on. attracts the most bonnie things, fuckin' christ."

your plate flies when you stab at your food too hard. the cutlery clatters as it hits the floor, and you jump a little, swallowing.

"are you alright, bug?"

"huh? yeah, oh...yeah, just...fucking clumsy. i...i'm gonna...find the toilet."

the blood is rushing in your ears as you make your way out. you're vibrating, hot inside, and you feel him before you see him, even in your anger.

when he pulls you into the shadow of a nearby supply closet, you swipe the blade out of your boot and hold it up against his throat. even through the mask, the blade bites, and he hisses as you hold him up against the wall there.

"don't fucking touch me," you snarl, and ghost's eyes are bright and alive as he holds his hands up defensively.

"wot--"

"and don't what me," you snap. "actually, don't fucking talk at all, you cheating, manipulative, british piece of shit--"

"look so pretty," he murmurs, tilting his head to the side. "did you do y'r hair, baby?"

"i will kill you."

"'s olright. last thing i see'll be you."

"i'm not fucking kidding, simon!"

he bends a little, tilting his head, and you breathe out through your nose as he leans his forehead against yours.

"reckon ya spoke t'johnny."

you scoff. "told me all about your winnings last night, lieutenant."

"was no winnings, love, don't be so fuckin' naïve." simon swipes at the handle of the blade, curling his gloved fingers around your wrist and forcing it away from him. "y'r just mad cause y'r cunt missed me."

"don't flatter yourself, asshole."

"so if i pull your knickers down right now, y'won't be drippin', swee'eart?"

"that's irrelevant."

"'s not. turn around and bend over."

simon's sorry, so he eats your pussy from behind. he gets down on his knees, and the crack of them satisfies you immensely, up until you feel his mouth between your cheeks, tongue slicking up your folds. you brace yourself against the wall, palms flat against the concrete as he puts two gloved hands against your ass and spreads you wide to fit himself nicely there. he hums, groans, makes you whine as he slurps obscenely into your cunt, laving at the drip of you until the taste of you floods his mouth.

"simon..." you whimper. "tell me i-it's not true."

he presses a wet kiss to your ass, biting it firm.

"'s not true, love. promise."

"fuck your promises," you sniffle. "you're a professional liar."

"tha' 'ow it's gonna be, innit? not gonna trust me? believe me?"

you rest your forehead against the cool wall, and the shadow of him envelopes you when he stands. he grunts a little as he gets to his feet. his big hands squeeze at the curve of your waist, and you close your eyes when you feel his breath against your neck.

"i'm sorry, simon."

"for wot?"

"i just...i like you so much. so much."

"come 'ere," he murmurs in your ear. he pulls your hips back, pressing your ass against his pelvis, and you dig your nails into the wall when you hear his belt buckle and zipper. "my pretty girl. my pretty, pretty girl."

"i missed you s-so much, simon."

"i know, love. quiet now. someone'll hear."

it's not the worst place you've fucked. you've snuck quickies in the rec room. behind the mess hall. met up in filthy gas station toilets, fallen into the backseat of a car in the parking lot of numerous military bases. even once, you deigned to suck his dick in his office, and you had to hide behind his couch when john came in to ask about an op.

john had a rule. his men were off-limits. he should've thought about that before he hired a man straight out of your wet dreams for his stupid fucking task force.

you're weak. and simon is a man.

inevitable.

you're a mile into pound-town when someone interrupts. simon is cock-deep inside of you, pelvis up against your ass, one hand braced around your throat and the other squeezing your ass. your eyes are rolled back into your head, and there's drooling coming out of your mouth. it's hot, disgusting, filthy to let him have you like this, but it's been weeks since you've seen him, and the phone calls aren't enough.

you love talking to him. you love when he talks to you. he'll never be annoying to you, you'll never get tired of him, but the distances hurts. you want simon to be all around you--inside of you, against you, his voice in your ear and his mouth against yours and his warmth your only sheet, but you can't bring yourself to do more than this.

you're too afraid of disappointing people. you're too scared of simon's rejection. if your relationship is nothing but fun, nothing but sex, you can pretend it isn't real, but you're just lying to yourself now.

you babble, and it sounds like love, but then the hallway light blinds you, and familiar blue eyes nearly kill you.

"jesus christ!"

simon puts his body in front of yours to cover you, using a harsh boot to kick the door closed. you squeak, covering your face with your hands, and you groan audibly as simon pants against your back.

"fuck--" you gasp. "oh...fuck, fuck, fuck!"

simon buries his face into the crook of your neck, laughing a little.

"bloody hell," he breathes. "reckon we're fucked, huh, love?"

"it's not funny, simon! we're in so much trouble!"

"well..." he squeezes your throat gently, tilting your head back. "could still finish. no sense in pretendin' now."

"you are not going to come when he's probably waiting for us outside."

"i'm balls deep in my favorite girl," simon mutters. "could come just fine. just say the word."

"you're disgusting."

"mmm..." simon squeezes your hips. "keep talkin'. i like when y'talk t'me like tha'."

"fucking asshole."

"yeah...yeah."

"you stupid, immature, unhinged pain in my ass--"

"fuck."

well.

you're definitely never leaving this room.

[daryltwdixon]

Summary: fluffy, domestic grumpy Joel drabble—he finds you after a trail ride with Ellie, acting all huffy like you were gone for days instead of a few hours. But for all his grumbling, he can’t seem to keep his hands off you, sneaking in every touch he can while you untack your horse.

I had this dream last night and after getting done with my morning shift at the barn (yes im a tried and true horse girl) I had to get home to write it asap. I really hope you guys don't mind my random stream of consciousness fluff ideas because I don't plan on stopping

The sun was dipping behind the mountains when you and Ellie rode back into Jackson, the warm glow stretching long shadows across the main road. The ride had been good—brisk air, the scent of pine, the rhythmic drum of hooves against the dirt. Ellie had been chatty, as always, rambling about how she totally could’ve shot that deer quicker if you’d just let her.

You laughed, nudging your horse forward as the gates swung open, and right there—like he had been waiting, though he’d never admit it—was Joel.

His arms were crossed, his mouth set in that usual line of perpetual disapproval, but the second his eyes landed on you, something softened. It was quick, a flash of warmth before he scowled at Ellie instead. “Took you long enough,” he grumbled.

Ellie huffed as she swung off her horse. “We weren’t exactly in a hurry, old man.”

“Obviously,” he muttered, though his gaze flicked back to you, sweeping over you like he was checking for any sign of trouble.

You grinned as you slid off your horse, your boots hitting the ground. Before you could even brush the dust off your pants, Joel was there, his hands bracketing your waist as he pulled you in. His lips pressed firm against yours, warm, familiar, and entirely unapologetic despite the fact that Ellie was loudly gagging in the background.

“Oh my God, can you guys not?” she groaned, dragging her horse toward the stables.

Joel ignored her, his thumb tracing along your cheek as he reluctantly pulled away, his voice gruff but low just for you. “Go get cleaned up. I got the horse.”

You tilted your head at him with a teasing smile pulling at your lips. “I'm perfectly capable to untack my own horse,”

Joel exhaled through his nose, already shaking his head. “Never said you weren't.”

“But I want to.” You met his gaze, steady and unwavering, knowing exactly how this would go.

He held your stare, jaw ticking, that stubborn streak flaring like he was about to tell you to get your ass home. But you saw it—the way his resolve crumbled almost immediately. Joel never really fought you on anything, not when you looked at him like that, not when he’d do just about anything to make you happy.

With a sigh, he muttered, “Stubborn woman,” before stepping back and nodding toward the stable. “Fine. But you brush 'em down. My back ain't gonna put up with that tonight.”

You beamed, looping your arm through his as you led your horse inside, and though he grumbled about how he was too old for this, you saw the way his fingers lingered against yours, like he had missed you the entire time you were gone.

The scent of hay and leather wrapped around you like something familiar and safe as you entered the stables with your horse in tow. Ellie was already tending to Shimmer, loudly talking about how next time she’d take you to a cool spot by the creek she found, but you weren’t paying her much mind. Joel was right behind you, keeping close, as if he still wasn’t convinced you’d made it back in one piece.

You pulled your saddle off and hoisted it over the railing, rolling your shoulders to ease the weight. Joel moved beside you, unclipping the bridle from your horse, his touch careful as he slipped the worn leather over her ears. “Good boy,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing a rough palm against the gelding’s neck. His hand brushed against yours as he stepped past, slow and deliberate, like he was making sure you felt it.

It was such a small touch, but it sent warmth curling up your spine.

“You do the brushin',” he murmured, voice low beside you. “I’ll put this away.”

You huffed a soft laugh. “Delegating, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, deadpan, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Gotta keep you in line somehow.”

You shot him an unimpressed look. “Oh, that’s what this is? You think you’re in charge?”

Joel gave a low huff, shaking his head as he passed behind you, his hand dragging slow along your waist. “Ain’t no thinkin’ about it, sweetheart.”

You smirked, brushing your horse with a little extra purpose. “Mm-hmm. Keep telling yourself that, Miller.”

That earned you a sharp look, but it didn’t have a single ounce of bite. He moved past you, close enough that his palm landed at your lower back, just for a moment, a quick press of warmth before he was gone. Always touching, always making sure you were there, close enough to reach.

You picked up the brush and started working through your horse’s coat, sweeping in long, even strokes while it grazed on its hay. Joel returned a moment later, settling in the stall, already working the leather cleaner into the seat of the saddle on the railing. But every time you passed near him—every time you shifted to reach another spot—his hands found you. A steadying palm on your hip. A slow drag along the small of your back. Fingers curling at your elbow, thumb smoothing over the inside of your wrist. You wondered if he was even trying to help or just wanted to stare.

“Y’know,” you mused, keeping your tone casual even as heat bloomed under every touch, “you could help.”

“I am helpin’,” he said, completely serious. “Cleanin' yer damn tack. Supervisin’.”

You shot him a look. “Uh-huh.”

Joel exhaled a slow breath, like you were really putting him through it, and finally relented. He stepped behind you, so close his chest pressed against your back as he reached around you to grab another brush. Instead of moving away, he stayed there, caging you in with warm, steady hands.

“Like this,” he murmured, guiding your hand with his own, their weight pressing down together against the horse’s coat.

You swallowed hard, heart knocking against your ribs. “You think I don’t know how to brush a horse, Miller?”

He smirked, his breath warm against the side of your face. “Just makin’ sure.”

You scoffed, but your voice came out softer than you meant it to. He was teasing you, but you could feel the way he lingered, the way he soaked up every second of being this close, like he’d been waiting for it.

Ellie made a disgusted noise from across the aisle. “Are you guys seriously flirting while brushing a horse?”

Joel barely even glanced her way. “Go home, Ellie.”

She groaned, muttering something about old people being gross as she grabbed her stuff and left. But you barely noticed. Joel’s hand was still over yours, fingers brushing slow circles into your skin, like he had no intention of letting go.

“You miss me that much?” you teased, leaning into him just a little.

Joel grunted, pressing a kiss against the top of your head before stepping away to put the brush back. “Every damn minute.”

Your stomach flipped at that, at the gruff honesty of it, no hesitation in his voice. You watched as he opened the stall door, letting your horse into the pasture for the night, his movements slow, easy—so at home here, so at home with you.

When he turned back, his hand slipped around your waist, pulling you gently from the stall. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “Let’s go eat.”

You exhaled with a smile, warmth curling through your chest. “Fine. I’m starved.” You hesitated for just a second, then reached for his hand, fingers slotting between his as you squeezed. “And, Joel?”

He glanced down at you, his grip instinctively tightening. “Yeah?”

Your smile turned softer, quieter. “I missed you too.”

Joel didn’t say anything, but his hand slid from your waist up to the back of your neck, tilting your face up to lean into you. He kissed you slow, deliberate—like it wasn’t enough to just hear it, like he needed you to feel it. Needed to remind you, in the only way he really knew how, just how much you meant to him.

Joel Miller was never a man of many words, but the way he held you, the way he kissed you in moments like this...it said more than words ever could.

[tryingahandinholdingapen]

I kind of want to either write or read a time travel fix-it fic where it's Tobirama who travels back in time - BUT it's not Tobirama's POV. He's only a side character. It's mainly focused on Madara and Hashirama. Occasionally Mito, Izuna, Touka

This post got real fucking long so here's a read more

Just a really funny fic where you never quite get to see what Tobirama is doing, because he's not the POV character and the other characters don't know/don't pay attention to what he's up to. But like he is doing important stuff yk he's taking advantage of that future knowledge

For example:

Madara and Hashirama meeting at the river. They've figured out/confessed to their respective clans and are discussing peace and who in their clan might or might not support them

Madara asks about Tobirama and Hashirama is like "Hm? Tobirama? Honestly I don't think he cares about the Senju-Uchiha war at all. He's far too occupied with his own war against the mold youkai."

"....The what?"

(It's not too obvious from Hashirama's POV that Tobirama keeps sneakily fucking up Zetsu's machinations, but what's significantly more difficult to ignore is that Tobirama is increasingly getting ambushed by White Zetsu drones ('mold youkai') - that he eliminates with extreme prejudice and alarming fury)

Just, stuff like that. Main plot is making peace, focused on most of the main family EXCEPT Tobirama (who is otherwise occupied and is thus rarely focused on much) and possibly Izuna. So it's all stuff about battles between the Senju and Uchiha, probably having to deal with internal issues as well (Butsuma/Tajima? Elders? Coup/assassination attempts?) and plotting how they could possibly get peace, it's stuff like negotiating with the Uzumaki + Mito's marriage to Hashirama, it's the Uchiha having to deal with one of their allied clans turning on them (barely noticed sub-plot during this where Tobirama is trying to prevent/rectify the sabotage Zetsu did to the Uchiha's fancy tablet), it's about planning for their eventual village (Hashirama finds notes on plumbing on his desk, written in Tobirama's hand - when the fuck did he have time for that? where did he even learn about plumbing?), it's about trying to get the Daimyo on side, it's about all the politics of trying to get other clans to move into the village too, it's about ah fuck bloodline thieves discovered there were plans for a shinobi village in the works and are doing a frantic attempt to kidnap/'harvest' as much as possible before the bloodline clans are too protected in the planned village so now we have to deal with this fucking trafficking ring...

The sub-plot is an Tobiizu fic where Izuna is (correctly) CONVINCED that Tobirama is Up To Something, and (incorrectly) decided it's malicious to the Uchiha et al, and has taken it upon himself to investigate and Stop Tobirama's Evil Plans At All Costs

Longsuffering Tobirama is far too busy for Izuna's bullshit. He's attempting to prevent/stop/counteract Zetsu's machinations, he's trying to kill Zetsu, he's trying to destroy the big old statue (yk the one I mean, idk what it's called, if it has a name), he's trying to make sure the bijuu are all safe and Won't get sealed into jinchuuruki OR the aforementioned statue...

(he gets distracted for a bit with a side project wherein he decides actually it would be really funny for him to convert the cave the big statue was in, into a place for the kyuubi to hang out. that takes him quite a while since he has to run Zetsu out (so many White Zetsu drones...), destroy the statue, alter the place accordingly, and then find and convince the kyuubi that actually this is a great idea - without the kyuubi just fucking eating him)

...he's trying to make life easier for Madara and Hashirama (oh, Butsuma died from a mysterious illness right before he could enact his incredibly stupid plan against the Uchiha? damn. what a shame. anyway-), he's having to reinvent everything he remembers from last time he lived through this shit because whilst some of those jutsus/techniques/inventions (cough, Edo Tensei, cough) aren't strictly necessary, some of them are VERY MUCH NEEDED

That takes. So much time. Luckily Tobirama doesn't have to do all the research over again, since he remembers it and it's incredibly unlikely anyone will call him out on it (....except Mito with regards to certain seals. he very begrudgingly does research and writes notes and invents plausible-mistakes-that-could-have-been-a-first-attempt) so for the most part he can skip straight to inventing or writing out the final project/knowledge

Some of Zetsu's machinations are incredibly annoying to counter, actually. Like at some point the blasted weed installed/had nearly installed a puppet ruler in Land of Water which, what? Why? Urgh

(Please imagine the absolutely incredible amounts of suspicion and incredulous disbelief and paranoia etc that Izuna is aiming Tobirama's way once he (eventually) discovers that the 'White Demon' is seemingly MESSING WITH POLITICS RE: WHO RULES A FOREIGN NATION?!?!?! is nobody else seeing this!! Izuna is NOT CRAZY look at this bullshit somebody needs to stop him-!)

So long story short Tobirama has a LOT on his plate and he is so so incredibly stressed. Somebody help this man. None of this shit is helped by the fact that

a) Zetsu realised very rapidly that someone was fucking with his plans, and promptly started trying to kill Tobirama off, or failing that, sabotage Tobirama's plans in turn

(thus the years long and increasingly violent 'war against mold youkai' that starts when Tobirama is like, ridiculously young, and Hashirama casually mentions to Madara)

b) Izuna. Just, Izuna. He's fucking obsessed with Tobirama (why) and also the most paranoid person ALIVE it sometimes seems, and he just, won't stop, sticking his nose in Tobirama's business, how does he seem to be fucking EVERYWHERE doesn't he have anything else to do it's not like Izuna even knows the shadow clone jutsu how is he doing this why-

(Izuna like. What could possibly be more important to my rival than ME. And anyway he can't possibly be doing anything GOOD so it's for the best I intervene really this is entirely altruistic-)

c) amongst all this, Tobirama still has to somehow maintain at least a vague, plausibly deniable, belief that he's like. A regular person, involved in only normal things. Because if anyone finds out what he's really doing, or what Zetsu really is, or that he's from the future (IZUNA GET YOUR NOSE OUT OF-), then that introduces just. SO MANY new moving parts and this is already fucking complicated enough as it is, alright? Yeah yeah yeah teamwork makes the dream work, two heads are better than one, etc, but this is essentially a war of information and manipulation between Zetsu and Tobirama and when your main power is info+manipulation the fucking LAST thing you want is more moving parts + more people who could leak info/know your info/unintentionally fuck up your (future) knowledge. No. As much as possible he has to do this on his own. Which means he needs to act like he's doing nothing at all. Actually spend time with his family, be seen running normal missions sometimes, help in clan matters, attend the Senju-Uchiha battles when relevant...

Which is all really really hard when there's only so much time in the day. And Zetsu doesn't have to worry about 'spending time with family' or anything so any time Tobirama spends doing that instead of working towards destroying Zetsu's shit is-

(thank fuck Tobirama still remembers how he invented shadow clones, is all he can say. thank fuck for that)

Over time Tobirama increasingly gets a handle on his terrifyingly long to-do list, which means that 'Izuna is being really annoying and following me almost all the time' moves up his priority list. Eventually Tobirama figures out that the easiest way to get Izuna to stop GETTING IN THE GODDAMN WAY is to just. Humour him. Give him attention. Yes yes you are the most important person in my life and all this inconvenient shit is just stopping me from devoting my energy to fighting you now if you could just put that lady over there under a genjutsu and- (Tobirama trying to get Izuna to help un-fuck Land of Water, it only sort of works)

At some point they fuck because Tobirama's stress levels are at an all-time high and he needs SOME sort of outlet. (Could be entirely sane+consensual (relatively. given who we're talking about) or it could be dubcon) and Izuna actually chills the fuck out for an entire ten hours afterwards. Amazing. Clearly they'll have to do this again

So they do

(yandere4yandere tobiizu for the win. Tobirama starts out normal (again, relatively, considering who we're talking about) whilst Izuna approached everything about Tobirama in a completely sideways obsessive way from the start, but Tobirama gradually starts to also get more obsessive/possessive over time. Like what do you mean the one person who has followed me unquestioningly for years and wants to kill me and kissed me yesterday and volunteered to help me fight a bijuu might LEAVE?? no. fuck you)

(Izuna with a hiraishin marker tattoo-)

anyway back to 'things even further complicating Tobirama's life':

optional letter d) Tobirama is trying so hard to seem normal and not like he's from the future or fighting an evil mold-plant-creature that wants to revive his mom from the moon. So, so hard. But alas, facts work against him

Like, I mean, imagine from an in-universe perspective. There's this guy with really weird colouring, he's known as the 'White Demon', he's better at suiton than anyone else alive and if you've seen him even SLIGHTLY try it's terrifying (think: drowning on dry land, sudden rain/storm/tsunami, blood ripped from a dozen bodies in half as many seconds-), there's? more than one of him? HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE and he's so fucking hard to kill but even when you kill him he just. doesn't. die. (friendly reminder that Tobirama is abusing shadow clones like nobody's business in an attempt to stay on top of his insane amount of work to do -> yk, the jutsu he invented, that doesn't work like any other clone jutsu, and that in this timeline he has thus far told nobody about. someone destroys a shadow clone and is incredibly alarmed that theres 1) no corpse 2) the White Demon is STILL ALIVE after they KNOW they killed him?!)

There's also rumours about him fighting/negotiating with bijuu, and quite a few witnesses to his ongoing war with 'mold youkai'

The majority of people (excepting like, people he's close to in his own clan, plus Izuna and possibly a few others) aren't sure he ever sleeps or eats or drinks, and wounds don't seem to last long (healing jutsu from the future + whilst he's sleeping/eating his shadow clone(s) are still out and about)

Then there's the insane amount of knowledge and jutsu and inventions he offers-

Long story short on top of everything else, Tobirama doesn't have to deal with people knowing he's from the future or about the whole issue with Zetsu

....He DOES have to deal with basically svery person in existence being 100% convinced he's not human, though

[hivemuthur]

Hello love,

I was hoping to request a jayvik x reader with depression. Ideally a modern college AU, maybe reader hasn't left their room in a few days and the boys check on them?? Angsty fluff?? Do with this as you will, take what you want leave what you don't, whatever you write will be amazing. Make sure you're resting, eating, and touching grass love <3

Hi love! I'm sorry it took so long, I feel like two weeks might just settle as my current waiting time :v I confirm that eating and touching grass has been done today. Here it goes!

Help me get back to your arms

viktorxgn!reader general audiences, Modern college AU, depressed reader, comfort and fluff

author’s note: title from Radiohead's song Motion Picture Soundtrack. And thank you guys for sending me such lovely requests. Forgot to say, @rennethen beta read this, thank you!

word count: 0,9K

—

Your phone keeps buzzing, and after some time, you stop bothering to check. You bury your head under the pillow and groan. It’s only been two days, hasn’t it? Or was it more?

The vibrations become so annoying that you finally pick up your phone, intending to turn it off—until you see the notification, and your heart melts a little. Jayce and Viktor are bickering in your group chat over the propriety of the memes Jayce has been sending you. And while some of them are, well… corny, the whole conversation still makes you smile.

Until a sharp knock on your dorm room door makes you jump, and your phone slips from your hand before you can finish reading.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, calculating whether you can just ignore it.

“Hey, it’s me!” comes a cheerful voice, and you already know Jayce is pressing his ear to the door.

“And me,” Viktor adds, with a hint of sulk that makes you sure he just rolled his eyes at Jayce and huffed.

“Yeah, right! It’s us. Can we come in?”

You glance around your room—uh, it’s a mess. You glance down at yourself—uh, you’re an even bigger mess. But before you can answer, the door cracks open.

Viktor’s worried face peeks through, his eyes lighting up as soon as he sees you. “Hey, darling. Can we come in?”

He pauses, waiting for confirmation, and you find yourself frozen in place, standing in the middle of the room, unable to say anything. So instead, you just nod and hold your arms out in front of you.

Viktor is between them instantly, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, his hand rubbing slow circles over your back. Moments later, Jayce presses up behind you, resting his chin on top of your head and sealing the group hug by placing his hands on Viktor’s shoulders.

Their scents mix together, and suddenly, you find it easier to breathe. Their chests press against you, squeezing the exhales from your lungs, and warmth blooms deep in your ribs. Viktor’s hair tickles your cheek, and Jayce’s palm rubs the back of your neck.

It’s safe.

“We brought food,” Viktor offers, tilting your chin up with his finger and giving you a soft smile.

“Or rather, snacks, since we figured real food might be too demanding,” Jayce corrects, and Viktor rolls his eyes again, murmuring something under his breath.

You sigh, your body sagging slightly between them. Food is the last thing on your mind right now. Instead, you ask, voice quiet, “How did you even know I was here?”

Viktor’s lips curve into a knowing smile as he tilts his head toward Jayce. “He has been refreshing Find My Friends for the last couple of hours before we decided to check.”

Jayce scratches the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish. “Well… yeah,” he admits. “You weren’t answering, and we got worried.”

His eyes search yours, warm and careful, and after a moment, he asks, “How are you?”

You wince, and the reaction is instant—Jayce doesn’t push. Instead, he wraps you up in another firm hug, squeezing the answer out of you without making you say a word. “It’s okay,” he murmurs against your hair. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

Viktor, still holding your hand, squeezes it gently. “Do you want to watch a documentary instead?”

You nod, feeling the weight in your chest ease just a little.

“Good,” Viktor says, brushing his thumb over your knuckles before leading you toward the bed. “I have one on deep-sea creatures that might just lull you to sleep.”

“I like deep-sea creatures,” you mumble as you sit down.

Jayce chuckles. “Guess we’re watching creepy fish, then.”

The three of you settle onto the bed, shifting and adjusting until you find the right fit. Viktor puts the film on, the soft glow of the screen casting shadows across the room. You’re nestled between them, your head resting on Jayce’s arm, the steady rise and fall of his chest grounding you.

On your other side, Viktor nuzzles in, his head resting on your shoulder, his hair tickling the curve of your neck. His leg is lazily thrown over your hips, anchoring himself to you, as if making sure you won’t slip away. Their hands intertwine over your stomach, fingers laced together in a quiet show of solidarity.

For a while, the only sound is the deep-voiced narrator explaining the eerie bioluminescence of some deep-sea creature, but Jayce, never one to sit still for long, eventually rustles open a packet of jellies. He pops one into his mouth before holding the bag out to you.

You hesitate, but when he gives you a little nudge, you sigh and take one. As soon as you do, he grins knowingly and flicks his gaze to Viktor, who, despite his apparent focus on the documentary, quirks an amused brow.

“Predictable,” Viktor murmurs, his voice warm with affection.

Jayce just smirks, nudging your side playfully. “Yeah, yeah. But at least she’s eating.” Viktor hums in agreement, pressing the lightest of kisses to your shoulder before settling in closer. The weight of them, the warmth of their bodies, the way their presence demands nothing from you—it’s enough. For now, it’s enough.

[ladykailitha]

Spellbound Part 5

Hey guys!! Here we have the next part of this lovely fic. I've been steadily working on it, just not on WIP Wednesdays because... well... it's getting really spoiler-y and I don't want to ruin your fun.

In this we Chrissy acting suspicious and Steve deals with a couple of Fey. Yep. Fey.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

Steve decided that he was going to do his own errands this morning, as he had been using the kids after the attack on Bav to make sure she was going to be okay. But she nudged him out the door today with a basket full of his medicines.

His nosy curious nature brought him to the Munson’s door first, Wayne’s arthritis medicine in hand.

He knocked on the door and wasn’t surprised when Chrissy came out of it when it opened. He nodded. “Miss Cunningham.”

“Oh!” she cried, blushing bright red. “Hello, Steve! Wayne isn’t in right now, but I can take that for him.”

Steve stepped back, clutching the basket to his chest. “I’ve got other errands to run, I’ll just come back.”

She reached out for the basket and he took another step back. “It’s fine, Steve. I’ll make sure he gets them.”

Steve shook his head. He didn’t trust her. He tried scrying on her after Robin’s pronouncement that she was visiting Eddie and couldn’t. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to find out.

“I’ll come back,” he said, firmly. “Have a good a day!” He turned on his heel and hurried down the path, careful not to look back. His heart was going a mile a minute and his lungs tightened around his quickening breaths.

Behind him he heard Eddie’s voice call out, “Who was that?”

“No one,” was the unsettling response and then the sound of the door closing, echoed in his ears.

Steve hurried down the path. He didn’t know what her reasoning for lying was, but it sent a chill down his spine. There was something rotting in this town, but to be fair, that was why his mother sent him here in the first place. It was too closed off for a town of it’s side to be normal.

He quickly finished his errands, with the head of the watch’s house last. Jim Hopper was a good man who had left Hawkins to start a new life, but had come back after the death of his daughter and his wife subsequent descent into madness.

Wayne wasn’t the only one to use his arthritis medicine, Jim used it often too. Especially after a long day out in the rain.

Steve enjoyed visiting Jim for another reason.

“Steve!” a voice cried out and suddenly he had a armful.

Steve wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “Good afternoon, Elinor, is your dad home?”

The little girl looked up at him with a big grin. “Yes, he’s home. But so is Father and Mother...”

Ah. That would explain how gleeful she was.

Elinor Hopper was a changeling. She had been swapped with another child like they always were, but what they didn’t count on was the baby being dropped off at a way station and picked up by Jim Hopper. He, still grieving the loss of his own daughter, Sara, nursed the changeling back to health and properly took care of her.

And when the fae came to take back the stump they had used to swap create her, they found a happy, healthy child instead. A child they could not take back to the faerie lands without Hopper’s permission. One he refused to give.

Steve had managed to intervene in time before the sidhe got upset enough to raze the whole town. He got them all to agree to terms that Jim would raise Elinor as his own and she would return to the faerie lands when she was grown and could make her own decisions and they would pay for her upbringing.

After all, it was their fault she was created in the first place. It did make for some awkward moments over the years. Most when the fae got tired of paying for her upkeep and would show up to demand her back.

Honestly though, Steve thought it was the funniest thing because try as they might they could never get his name to bend him to their will. Because he would go by Jim or Hopper, never James. Steve didn’t think there was a single soul anywhere who knew it was for sure, James.

“I’ll go smooth things out again,” he promised kissing her forehead.

Steve walked into the house and there stood the most graceful, elegant beings you had ever seen. Both were tall and thin, but in an uncanny valley kind of way. Their hair was long and blond, coming to the middle of his back and her waist. Their eyes were a bright, unnatural blue and their clothing screamed wealth in ways no human could match.

“Lord Eanethreal, Lady Melisande,” he said bowing, “it is good to see you again.”

Both pairs of blue eyes and a third more natural pair of blue eyes turned to him. Steve looked unassuming most days, but not in that moment. Not then.

He stood up straight and his clothes that were a warm, olive green most of the time, had shifted from an earthy tone, to a glittering emerald green and on his head was a matching pointed hat that denoted his profession and rank. The change made the green in his own eyes stand out, making them more hazel than brown.

“Steven,” Lady Melisande said with a nod, though Lord Eanethreal just ignored him with a sniff. “We have come to take the child you call Elinor. She is missing vital teachings as she wastes away up here in the mortal realm.”

“That was not the bargain, my lady,” Steve said with a gentle smile, “as you well know. Would you really go back on our deal?”

That was when Lord Eanethreal took notice of him, spitting in anger. “It was a trick! A low down dirty trick and I refused to let it stand!”

Jim chuckled. “Don’t like it when it’s you on the receiving end, huh?” He shook his head in amusement.

“To break your word,” Steve warned, “once it freely given will bring a curse upon you for one hundred years. Is that really what you would like happen here today? Because you could take her, but there is no prison strong enough or deep enough to stop her from clawing her way back to Jim. So not only will you be cursed as the deal states, Elinor will have wrecked havoc on the faerie lands that will be felt for centuries and all because you doubt the love of this human man for that little girl.”

He pointed at Jim who glared at them, daring them to refute Steve’s statement.

Steve held Eanethreal’s gaze for a long moment before the fae lord broke contact first. He snarled something feral and dark, but suddenly pantry was full and the coffer overflowing. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the house, the smell of lightning crackling behind him in his wake.

Melisande shook her head. “My apologies, yet again. It is a sore spot for my husband to be bound to the mortal realm thusly.”

Steve bowed his head respectfully. “I understand, but the usual laws don’t apply here. He not the person you sought to punish by swapping out their baby for the changeling, and Elinor did not die as most do. So it created an unique situation that must have unusual rules.”

“There is wisdom in that,” she murmured. “I will try harder to convince him of such wisdom.” She nodded to Steve and swept out the door without so much as a backward glance to Jim.

Then Steve was back to his normal every day self. His head began to pound and he swayed on his feet.

Then everything thing went black.

~

When Steve woke up, he wasn’t surprised to see that he was laid out on Jim’s bed. No, what was surprising was that Eddie was there at the bedside looking concerned.

Steve blinked up at him in confusion. “Did I hit my head on the way down?”

Jim chuckled from behind Eddie. “No, kid. I caught you in time. Eddie was passing by when he saw our visitors and was curious as to the nature of our little get together.”

“That’s a whole story for someone other than me to tell,” Steve huffed, staying lying down. He knew his limits and he had blown past them. “Short version. I make the fae pay child support.”

Jim chuckled. “Steve just used too much of his power forcing the bastards to back down.”

“Why the hell would you need to use your powers to tell them to fuck off?” Eddie asked, frowning.

The room stopped spinning so he carefully sat up as Jim passed a plate of food over Eddie’s head. Steve took it with a grateful smile.

“Because they would only negotiate with those they deem equals,” Elinor said grimly. “If his power wasn’t half the level it should be, he wouldn't need to be using glamour to make himself look bigger to them.”

“Well, Miss Thing,” Steve teased, “unless you have a solution about unlocking my full potential that isn’t finding my soulmate, shush!”

Elinor giggled. “Nope, pretty sure that’s the only way.”

Eddie looked over his shoulder at her and then back at Steve. “I thought you didn’t hold to the notion that you were that ultra rare super witch or whatever you called it was.”

Steve sighed around a piece of bread and cheese, putting down the piece he had in his hand. “That’s what everyone thought were I grew up. That I just wasn’t as powerful as my mother because I’m a male witch, but...”

“Well that’s sexist,” Eddie huffed. “And I’m guessing that every soul powered super witch were lesbians?”

Steve burst out laughing. “Well no. A lot of male/female pairings in the centennial sorcerers as my Auntie Muriel liked to call them, a handful of lesbians, too. But the reason they didn’t–um... think it was me because there’s never been a male/male pairing in any record. Granted there hasn’t been that many because it’s once every hundred years...”

Eddie smiled. “Still out say the last ten or so, it’s never happened?”

Steve nodded. Not many people in the village knew that he was gay. In fact with the current mayor, it was a safe bet that no one outside his very intimate circle knew that fact.

“Still sexist, Steve,” he said softly. “You just said that about of a third of the most power witches were men if there were heterosexual powerful prestidigitators in the past. So your family just dismissed as being male without cause.”

Steve opened his mouth in shock. “Oh shit. I never thought of it that way. You’re right, that was pretty awful of them.”

Eddie smiled at him and then got to his feet. “Well, now that I know you didn’t kill yourself protecting the little miss, I’ll be on my way.”

“Since you’re here,” Steve said, pointing to the basket on the table, “you might as well take your uncle’s medicine with you. He was going to be my last stop.”

Eddie picked up the basket and one of the packets, frowning at them. He picked up the rest of the packets and tucked them into the safety of his inner pocket of vest.

“I’ll make sure he gets them,” he murmured. “Seriously though, you need to stop using up all your power to protect others, or you might just burn out before you meet your soulmate.”

Steve huffed a laugh. “I’ll probably never meet them here, this town isn’t very friendly for people like me.” He tilted the head to side. “The witch thing doesn’t help either.”

Eddie burst out laughing. “You really are something else, Harrington. Take care of yourself. you hear?”

“Will do,” Steve murmured softly. “Say hello to Wayne for me.”

Eddie nodded and then slipped out of the house. Both Jim and Elinor turned to Steve.

“He didn’t touch you or Dad,” Elinor said succinctly, tilting her head to the side. “But he rustled my hair, why?”

Jim huffed a breath through his nose. “Probably for the same reason Steve here doesn’t touch men. He knows his soulmate is a man and it would be pitchforks and torches if happened to be the wrong man.”

She nodded sagely. “I’m sorry you were forced to use your powers so soon after the incident with the Carver boy. I hope you find your soulmate quickly. I fear there is a storm coming that will alter this town forever.”

Then she smiled and skipped out of the house as if nothing had happened.

Jim and Steve looked at each other in concern.

“Well,” Jim said darkly, “that was fucking ominous.”

Steve could only agree.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @watermelonmite @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @cryptid-system @kultiras @kimsnooks

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @wheneverfeasible @micheledawn1975 @gloomysoup @dotdot-wierdlife @tartarusknight

10- @ollyxar @yesdangerpls @two-vampires-kissing @themoonagainstmers @estrellami-1

[frownyalfred]

Some questions and thoughts for the Coral Room

I noticed that there are often mentions of beta mothers. Alfred is jokingly compared or called one, beta mothers are all swarming Bruce in your last post, etc. etc.

But I also remember that Betas do not really have a childbearing role in your world. They're there so they can care for the pack as a whole and jump in if either Alpha or Omega (or both, poor Alfred) are indisposed for whatever reason (mentioned childbearing, childcare, drops, death (poor Alfred²))

So are there just Betas that do the majority of child care and are thus assigned the extra role of parent, additionally to already being in a pack that communally raises the pups?

How do Betas generally cope with the nuclear family constellation that's become the norm? They can adopt children, but not sire or carry their "own". Alphas and Omegas would also seek out each other for ruts or heats, since that's what's expected. So building romantic relationships would be pretty limited in the way modern society is structured.

What are their struggles? What are their norms? How do the maneuver a world that's pressures Alphas, objectives Omegas and forgets Betas?

Excellent question. You'll probably have noticed that the references to beta mothers in the fic are purposefully toward older beta women, or those who are from a few generations back. They're the last holdover of the pack mentality before the nuclear family shift. And you're absolutely right, they serve as parents and/or communal carers in the pack hierarchy, despite not being childbearers.

But, now that packs are dying out and shifting to a more nuclear family model, beta mothers are feeling that shift the most. They don't have 'children' in the sense of alphas and omegas, in that they are children they sired. But back in the old ways, any child they parented was theirs, just as much as it was the alpha or omega's.

This new mindset definitely pressures betas to fall into relationships with other betas, and yes I'd imagine some would adopt. Others fall into nanny/caregiving roles for alpha/omega pairs but fall short of being allowed to use the 'beta mother' title, since it's essentially defunct. And those alpha/omega pairs rarely induct those folks into their pack, largely because they don't have one anymore outside of their mating bond.

Alfred is a good example of a pack beta / beta mother holdover from the earlier times. Thomas and Martha were old enough and from old family lines that they still thought of their possible children, their house, and their future as a pack. As we see in one of the spin off fics, Martha refuses to proceed with her pregnancy (jokingly) until Thomas names Alfred as pack beta. I truly believe their plan was to have many children, and to start a formal pack that way. Which they would be allowed to more easily by society, as they were old and "eccentric" as opposed to trying to fit into the modern working nuclear family mindset.

A big theme I was kind of putting off to the side in ASOH (but talked a lot about here) is how Bruce + Clark are bringing back some older traditions, thanks in no small part to Lex. They prioritize a pack mindset and rarely even think about the more modern family setup others follow. This puts them in conflict with folks like the huffy alpha junior (I forget what i named him -- Graham?) at the gala who is rude to Lex, only for his father (Senior) to treat Lex with older omega customs and respect.

So yes, in a long winded answer to your question: betas probably suffer the most in this new world, because they are forced to curb their instincts that would normally be flourishing in a pack hierarchy. Alfred did this for a while when Bruce was going through his own issues with being an omega -- but it's clearly not ideal for him, and certainly hurt him long term after operating as a pack beta for his parents.

This is also a bit of a joke for myself, but the beta mother joke Lex makes precedes him going over and introducing himself to them in order to win favor. He immediately asks them if any of their sons are single -- this is a subtle way (ish) to indicate that while he's younger, he respects the beta mother role and sees them as valid parents. Of course this wins them over right away, as we see briefly. Clark also wins them over by politely chatting with them in their beta capacity, though he's not as aware of the high society lines as Lex or Bruce are.

[k1nkyshitz]

"𝟏𝟎"

A decade is a really long time

10 years.

Such a highly regarded number. All things rated a 10 are considered perfect. The crowds favourite.

Sae was your favourite. Your number 10.

It has been 10 long years dating Itoshi Sae and it all comes down crashing on you. He's no longer yours. The number shines in your face on a billboard as you make you way back home as if mocking you. The man with his strickingly sharp features, long eye lashes and piercing turquoise eyes posed with a perfume he is advertising for. The number 10 shining on the label as the perfume's name.

You don't remember how long you spent suspecting it. How distant he had become like a stranger in your own home. You knew he'd might toss you aside for soccer when you first persued him. He knew nothing but soccer until you infiltrated his very small world.

A decade full of memories. Fond and warm ones. You don't think you've ever seen Sae smile so much before. You grew up with him, beside him. Watching him under the field's spotlight. No one has ever taken such a big part of your heart and that's why even after he invited you to dinner that night, you still loved him

When was the last time you saw his eyes crinkle in amusement whenever you were trying to fix his unruly hair before practise? Or the small exchanges of your hopes and dreams with one another just before bed. How Sae would tell you he wanted to be the world's best mid fielder and you'll always reply with "you will be" with a soft chuckle as you trace his jawline.

Now the home shared between the two of you remains like an empty husk devoid of the memories that were once spent in there. Where was your sae?

1 year ago

Sae has been distant. It's been weeks since you both gone on a proper date or had a proper intercation. He's up before you and comes home once you've passed out on the couch. You can't help but feel likes he's avoiding you. The man whose grown to love you, cherish you is suddenly distancing himself? Impossible its all in your head.

You think it is anyway. You try from time to time reaching out to him and his replies are...disappointing.

He doesn't touch you anymore. His back facing you each night you sleep. Somethings changed. Your heart tugs at every short and cut off interaction you have with Sae. Even when you leave him his every morning kiss before you head to work, its now short and brief with a quiet 'love you' to which he only grunts in response, eager to leave the house.

You can't help but hear the doubts in your head, is he seeing someone outside? Did you do something wrong? Did something happen to him?

Pacing around the kitchen, spiralling into your own fears thinking about to approach this with him. You need to to talk to him. You always reminded him about how big you are with commmunicating. Even as closed off as he seemed, he would always reassure you and seek you out first whenever conflict bubbled between the two of you.

He knew how important communicating was to you. He knew how important he was to you.

"Dinner. XXX Hotel, 7pm". A wave of hope washes over you. This was his way of making it up to you think. You could almost berate yourself that you thought after a decade your boyfriend doesn't care anymore. But as you both finished dessert and the wine stops flowing, he speaks. A full sentence.

"Lets break up.' His eyes not daring to meet yours, choosing to stare at his half eaten tiramisu. You can hear how strained his tone is, how he must have worked up a lot of courage to say this.

"'I'm sorry" he clears his throat before sitting up straighter then before. "I should have told you before, when I no longer felt the same way I used to feel about you". The rest of his apology becomes background noise, a low droning. You swore you felt your heart drop. The dress you had sent for cleaning tonight was now crumpled at how hard you were clenching at it. You feel numb, like you had expected it. All these weeks of radio silence.

"We can ignite that spark again. We can make it work. You don't mean it" was what you should have said.

"I still love you" is what you wanted to say.

"Okay" was what told him. You had unknowingly prepared yourself for the worst. You knew him all too well but even so, it doesn't hurt any less. For a person who valued communication so much, you knew there wasn't much to communicate. Not when the man you love refused to meet your eyes.

All that weeks of ignoring you, refusing any time with you and touching you. It was all so clear to you now. You felt like a fool. You felt like a fool for thinking after 10 long years of love, he'd want to fight for this. Every conversation, every meal you tried to have with him was all obligation he felt like he had to do.

You would have rather he cheated on you, ended it on bad terms or even just create a flimsy excuse using soccer. Anything but this.

How could the spark that had been glowing so bright for a decade suddenly distinguish you think?

Sae sits opposite you, silent and as still as a rock. That expressionless face of his doesn't give away what he's thinking. He looks tired you realised. Incredibly haggard. The dark eye bags heavier and more prominent near the candle light. 'How long did he wait to tell me?' you think. He must have spent nights trying to find a way to tell you without crushing you. Even after everything, he still found a way to cushion the fall after pushing you.

You can't remember what else happened that night, only the brief flash of guilt that passed his eyes.

Present time

You look back at the bright billboard. The man you spent nearly half your youth giving your heart to only for him to return it.

You didn't cry. You didn't kick a fuss. You just left without saying a word. For the past year, everything numbed inside of you.

And the man infront of you, makes you realise how out of reach he has always been. How he will always be the world's favourite. How he climbs up that ladder of success so effortlessly leaving you behind.

You hope that someone else has got what he's searching for but you prayed that that person was you.

The tears fall without notice, your chest contracts painfully as you breathe. Gasping a sob before covering your mouth and containing your tears. Itoshi Sae, the man you still loved now gone. Everything comes crashing, as you quietly sob infront of the billboard. How the realisation that you've lost him forever.

That entirety of 10 years was nothing to him. Someone was playing a cruel joke you think as you looked at him through your blurry vision of his pretty features. How you'll never feel those lips, feel his warmth anymore. You can't help but wonder, how long did he have to put this relationship until he finally broke. That while you were still pouring your heart out for him, he had completely lost it. Did he only love you cause he had to?

As you grieve for what you had with him. It all came crashing onto you.

Your world, your everything, your 10 belonged to everyone but you.

The Real Madrid, the press, his fans.

Everyone but you

[glittergeldreams]

·. ✦ Twilight Dr

________________.。·. ⋆ ˚✦。⋆ ·。._______________

But it doesn't matter how hard they tried, something special always comes out. And in a land where people transform into wolves and deadly predators shine in the sun, a secret like magic can't be hidden for long.

Who said vampires and shapeshifters were the only magical creatures to exist in Forks?

For centuries, witches have disguised themselves as humans. Timeless, beautiful women who were able to change their appearance as they wished, living to the sides or integrated in society as if there was nothing special about them at all.

That's why when my mother died giving birth to me, my aunt took me in and moved away from forks and the rest of our family. After all, two witches living in the same house isn't something that can go unnoticed by the supernatural, especially if one of them is still an infant unable to control her powers.

So we said goodbye to Charlie and moved away. For years. Over and over again until we had to stay put for years so that I could attend school.

But my aunt didn't want to have children not only because of the dangers of a witch childbirth, and it was obvious that caring for me was becoming a burden for her.

That when we decided I'd spend my last two years of high school with Charlie and Bella, who moved back with Charlie too.

________________.。·. ⋆ ˚✦。⋆ ·。._______________

Bella and I always stayed in touch, despite me traveling all over the world with our aunt. So when she told me she'd go stay with her dad, I decided to move with uncle Charlie too.

After all, I loved Forks when I was a kid.

⋆ Me:

Ivory (Ivy) Swan, a witch living on her own for the first time, practicing magic, studying as a teenager and discovering all the new creatures that live hidden behind the human facade just like her.

________________.。·. ⋆ ˚✦。⋆ ·。._______________

I always wear crystals on me, and I play around with magic even to do the smallest things, just to become comfortable with it.

One thing I often do, is change my hair color. It's easy to explain it to humans as temporary hair dye and I can have fun without damaging my hair.

I have my own little notebook I always bring with me and where I write everything that comes to my mind.

I'm not the most outgoing person, but I don't mind being around people. I try to see the bright side of everything, and despite not always being able to show it, I care deeply about my friends, and I'd do anything of them.

⋆ How I spend my days:

I read and write in my journals whenever I can. I have a passion for romances and fantasy books. I just love to compare my magic with the one written in the books, and test my limits.

I love spending time in nature, and I tend to all the plants in Charlie's house.

Since studying comes easy to me, I'll get a job in the Forks' bookstore to help Charlie with rent, and go to LaPush on the weekends when the sun is out and the Cullens have to stay in.

I obviously practice magic as often as I can.

________________.。·. ⋆ ˚✦。⋆ ·。._______________

When I'll become friends with the Cullens, I'll start spending time at their house too.

While I know their secret, I'll enjoy playing with them with my magic for a while, just to see how long it takes them to figure it out.

Knowing Alice, not too long.

⋆ My family:

Daughter of Laura Swan and an unknown man she never gave a name or a face to, I've grown up traveling the world with my aunt Meghan.

Charlie, her brother and my uncle, never knew about magic even when they were little, since their father believed it would hurt their relationship if he knew.

When I come back, all my aunt tells me to do is to never let Charlie know about magic.

Bella and I have always seen each other in the summer growing up, then started sending each other letters and e-mails when we grew up, always keeping in touch.

I consider her my sister more than my cousin.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

hwy so can I hVe a scenario with kurt wagner where him and his s/o are in bed together. They have been together for long enough where both have been in bed with one another a ton of times. S/o notices some particular scars along his back that don’t look like they’re from battles he got into. When he lays on his stomach or side. S/o didn’t notice those before despite admiring him sometimes. They look much older and deeper and never healed properly. S/o reaches over and gently touches them and runs their hand along them. Feels a bit like a massage. They don’t know what they are from, but to them it does not matter. He been through something really bad before they waaay met? (Thinking about those scars from his circus days).

~Our Scars Remind Us That The Past Is Real~

Pairing: Nightcrawler x Reader

Word Count: 0.3k

Warnings: we mention scars but not much

Genre: mostly fluff

Summary: Laying in bed you notice scars on your boyfriend's back

A/N: Thank you for requesting! <3

***

Kurt rolls over next to you and you smile at his sleeping form. You're having a lazy day today and he's been in and out of naps most of the afternoon while you catch up on the show you've been watching the last couple of months.

You run a hand through his hair and then trail it down. He settles against your touch as it slides over his neck and shoulders. You glance from the TV to his exposed back. You notice something on the skin of his back.

"Whydyastah-" Kurt says- something, but you can't quite catch it because he's speaking against his pillow.

"Kurt?" You prompt quietly. Maybe he's barely conscious and talking in his sleep.

"Why'd you stop?" He sighs.

"Oh, hi baby I didn't realize you were awake again."

"Yeah, I was just enjoying you touching me, but then you stopped."

"Sorry my darling, I- well I noticed some scarring on your back and got distracted I suppose."

"Oh that." Kurt hums.

"I've never noticed them before."

"They're pretty old." He shrugs.

"Yeah I thought so, but I'm just surprised I haven't seen them until now."

"Do you spend a lot of time staring at my back or something?" Kurt snorts.

"Well, not your back specifically, but I spend a lot of time looking at you overall. I mean, we've even showered together, I feel like I should've noticed these at some point." You frown.

"I mean I don't think it's a big deal, I'm covered in other scars anyway."

"Sure sure, I was just surprised by them, is all. You asked why I stopped." You explain.

You trace your fingers over the scars, soft touches, you're sure they don't hurt or anything, but you always touch him with care. You can't help it, life has been very difficult for him, and all you want for him is peace.

"Liebling?" Kurt hums.

"Yes my love?"

"Where did you go my heart?" He asks.

"Where did I...?"

"I lost you for a moment there."

"I'm just thinking about how much I love you." You kiss his forehead.

"I love you too." He says.

You won't ask him about how he got the scars. It doesn't really matter. It won't change that you love him, or how much. If he ever wants to tell you more of course you'll always listen, but until then, all you care about is that he's here, with you, and whatever horrors he faced he'll hopefully never have to deal with again.

***

[wtfaniii]

Escape To The Bathroom

Summary: You love adrenaline, you are shameless and you are not interested in anyone but yourself or sometimes your brother, however... a certain guy can make you bend your legs with just one look.

Warning: Slight smut, drugs and inappropriate language.

Lee Myung gi x fem reader

Your eyes were filled with amusement even though your lip was split and you could taste your own blood in your mouth.

—Rawrr... the old man knows how to have fun —You said, standing up without taking your eyes off of player 001 who had intervened in the small fight that your brother, his friend and you had created against 333.

Thanos and Nam gyu turned away tired and in pain after the beating he had given them but you continued to keep a smile on your lips despite the slight body pain you felt.

You turned to Myung gi and blew him a kiss before returning to your group.

—He's an idiot —Your brother Nam gyu complained as he sat on the edge of his bed.

—So do us —You responded, sitting next to him —Mom would be embarrassed if she knew we fought at lunch.

He grumbled at your words knowing you were making fun of him.

While you were sitting with your group your eyes were still fixed on Myung gi, you couldn't deny it, the idiot was handsome, since you saw him in his YouTube videos you considered him a potential crush but after having left you in ruin for that investment you reconsidered your thoughts, you wanted to hit him but you also longed to feel his lips on yours.

He felt your gaze and directed his eyes towards you, his look was irritated but also curious, ¿why did you see him so much? It was uncomfortable to a certain extent and you noticed this so you formed a teasing smile on your face.

Your eyes remained fixed on him, it was like a silent battle of glances, only he transmitted annoyance and you conveyed challenge.

You didn't even realize Thanos was talking to you until he snapped his fingers in front of your face to get for attention.

—The earth calls you —He said at the same time that he directed his gaze towards where you were still looking —Don't tell me you liked him.

—It's cute —You responded without much importance, looking away.

—Go and talk to him —The rapper encouraged you by playing with the rings on his fingers.

—¿Talk to who? —Nam Gyu approached you and gave you a friendly blow on the head, making your lips twitch.

—Nobody —You responded immediately, giving Thanos a threatening look but he was more focused on his music than on your conversation.

You knew Nam Gyu like the back of your hand and if he knew that you liked the man he didn't like it was definitely going to be a problem.

When it was time to play the next game, they took them to a colorful room where they had to form teams of five members. Your brother integrated you into the team with Thanos, but your eyes and mind wandered to a certain player with the number 333.

—Maybe I should look for another team, we don't know what we are going to play —You excused yourself by walking away from them without letting your brother object.

You walked between the players until your gaze fell on Myung gi, you formed your best smile and went towards him, he jumped a little when you suddenly put your hands on his shoulders and shook him to annoy him.

—It seems that we will be a team —You said standing in front of him.

—¿Your team didn't want a woman? —he ask, scanning you from top to bottom with a judging look.

—It's not that, I thought it would be smart to divide us.

He seemed to brush it off and motioned for you to follow him in search of his other members, it was simple and once their team was ready they sat on the ground while they gave the order.

You felt Nam gyu's gaze burning the back of your neck but it was the last thing you cared about now, you needed to get through these games alive but your mind was also flying towards the guy who was next to you.

—¿And what are you good at?

—I'm good at whatever you want —Your response caught him off guard, you were supposed to hate him ¿and now you were flirting with him? That small smile on your lips and the look in your eyes did not go unnoticed,but when you did not receive a positive response to your suggestion you said the following: —Gonggi.

Your team passed the test and they were sent back to the huge room, your brother and Thanos had not yet passed through so you stayed silent and sat on your bed.

You admitted it, if you cared about your brother but you also tried to keep a cool mind and your feelings buried, here had to survive and win, the chances of dying were very high so you were prepared for that.

—This is very stressful —Myung gi's voice brought you out of your pensions and to your surprise he was standing next to you, watching you cautiously.

—But fun —You responded, moving a little to the left to make room next to you —The worst that can happen to us is a shot in the head.

You tried to ease him tension but that seemed to stress him out even more so you quickly spoke up.

—Anyway, I don't think they'll eliminate us, you're good.

—You too.

The answer was sincere, you had paid each other a compliment, Myung gi continued looking at your profile while you kept the gaze down, you were pretty although had a shitty character, however... maybe he could ignore that.

The silence between you was not awkward, in fact it was loaded with attraction, your heart was beating like crazy to the point that you could swear he heard it, your red cheeks and the shine in your eyes were beautiful to him, your thoughts wandered into fantasies that you wish you could do him, fuck it, you had nothing to lose.

—Hey... I'll go to the bathroom, to relieve some stress —You said softly and with a slight smile, a clear invitation for him to accompany you.

You got out of bed and walked cautiously towards the door with him following you, you asked the guard at the entrance for permission to go to the bathroom and the two of were guided down the long hallway.

The bathrooms were divided into men and women but when the guard turned around to watch, you and Myung gi entered the women's room.

As soon as you heard the "click" of the door closing, you launched yourself at him to kiss him needily.

He reciprocated the kiss and backed away towards one of the stalls where he opened the door with a light kick and sat on the cup with you on top of him.

Hearing him rapid breathing and feeling him hands on your hips was just as you imagined, a gasp escaped your mouth as he pulled you closer to his body to feel each other.

—You gave me a black eye —He murmured to you with a touch of reproach but also with the heat of the moment.

You were going to mock him but your words were interrupted by a small cry of pain mixed with pleasure when you felt him teeth dig a little into your neck.

—Now we are even —He said proudly, pulling away from your neck to see the purple mark he had left on your skin.

You bit your lower lip and continued with the heated kiss, him hands were responsible for removing your clothes and you did the same skillfully.

The cubicle they were in was small and not exactly the most comfortable but the only thing you could feel was how he entered you again and again with erratic movements, hearing him grunt and gasp quietly was like music to your ears and in those at times the thing you least cared about was the risk of another player entering the bathroom or even the guard.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as you pushed yourself up and down to reach climax, Myung gi's gaze was fixed on your face, seeing your closed eyes and the sweat that fell on your forehead, with one hand he removed the hair that bothered your face as he listened to you moan and gasp.

Like a gentleman, he let you finish first and then he finished off of you to avoid future consequences.

—If you tell anyone, I'll blacken your other eye... —You said as a warning, taking deep breaths and relaxing your body on him.

—I don't promise anything —He responded while kissing your neck and caressing your hair.

You knew that if Thanos or Nam Gyu bothered him again he would defend himself with this just to make your brother a little more angry, he was an idiot but you didn't regret anything.

You and him heard the knocking on the door and the guard's complaints telling them that they had to leave to return to the other players so you stood up on shaky legs and adjusted your clothes.

—¡Come out now! They've been in there for a long time —The guard demanded for the fourth time, knocking on the door —¡I'm going in!

When he opened the bathroom door, fortunately you and Myung gi were already dressed and outside the cubicle, you had just finished washing your hands when you saw the guard with a look of indignation and displeasure.

—¡You can't go into the women's bathroom! ¡This is harassment and disrespect! —You said, looking at him with annoyance as you walked past him to leave.

The guard looked at Myung-gi who also kept a serious and firm look.

—¿What? I'm a gentleman, I'm not going to leave a girl alone with a masked man in a place like this —He said in defense, passing by him side but not before bumping he shoulder into him in an act of disdain.

The two returned to the other players and you smiled calmly when you saw your brother sitting with the others on the stretcher stairs.

—¿Where were you? —Nam Gyu asked curious but calm, the drug he had consumed with Thanos had not yet fully worn off.

—I went to the bathroom —You responded without importance, sitting between him and Thanos, your gaze went to 333, who also saw you with a slight smile on his lips.

—Shit ¿What happened to your neck? —Thanos asked seeing the purple mark on your skin and you instinctively covered it with your hand, Nam Gyu also turned to look at you with intrigue.

—An insect —You knew it would be a problem to fuck your brother's enemy but you couldn't care less, you could do whatever you want, whenever and with whoever you want.

And every chance they had, they both took a little escape to the bathroom.

N/A: It's not one of my best works but I had to upload something, do I write more about him?

[bippot]

Damsel

Story Summary -> Vigilante notices a girl and her not-so-nice boyfriend arguing, and just as the hero is about to reprimand the bad boyfriend, she does something unexpected. When she finds him a week later, they come to learn that they mesh together quite well. Will that chemistry remain when she knows who's under the visor?

Tags -> Unhealthy Relationships, Break Up, Canon-Typical Violence, Secret Identity, Idiots in Love, First Meetings, Coffee Date

Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!

It was rare that the damsels Vigilante saved stuck around for much of a conversation. He'd kill the guy harassing them, the criminal's blood would splat on their pretty faces, and they'd run away in terror from the very sight of him. He'd get the occasional quiet, "Thank you," or the very loud, "Why the fuck did you kill him? You fucking weirdo!" but nothing more than that. Yeah, it sucked. He was used to it, though.

Maybe it was the suit. Adrian thought he had an approachable face, and his mask was hiding that. It wasn't as if he could risk taking his mask off - that would be so stupid - because anyone other than the 11th Street Kids knowing his identity was out of the question.

Then he came across a couple having an argument one night. That wasn't out of the blue: couples have arguments every day. Yet, they don't always happen at 12pm in the dingy alleyway between a shitty bar and a tattoo shop that had awful reviews - apparently, their infection rate was almost 80%. How they were still in business, he'd never know - and although the alley tended to be a hive of delinquency, there didn't seem to be any dealings going down. This wasn't a good place to hang out. Vigilante patrolled in this area for a reason.

The girlfriend was far too beautiful to be in this part of town. She was dressed up nice, far too nice, and had pretty nails and make-up as if she'd tried really hard to look her best for this date. The man, on the other hand, looked as if he was still wearing his work clothes. Even from where he was hiding behind the dumpster, Adrian couldn't help but notice how defeated she seemed. If she'd been livelier, maybe he would've enjoyed watching the whole thing go down. He could've treated it like he was watching one of those trashy reality shows, but, y'know, it was actual reality.

The girl was tired. So tired that she didn't care enough to raise her voice. She wasn't hysterical. There were no tears. No passion. Just a sad smile and an even sorrier, "I can't do this any more."

"Do what, babe?" The boyfriend replied, taking a drag of his cigarette, only to blow the smoke directly in her face. She let out a long-suffering sigh, waved it away, and stepped out of his breathing range.

"It's our anniversary, Charlie."

He scoffed, "I know that. Why the fuck do you think I brought you here?"

"I didn't expect to go to a perfect, like, fancy spot, but we could've gone to a restaurant, or maybe somewhere where your shoes don't stick to the floor because of how gross it is," the girl said, rubbing circles into her temples with her fingers in order to ease the headache that was forming. 

Adrian had only been in a few short-term relationships during his life. They never lasted long enough to reach an anniversary. But he knew that this bar was a poor choice of venue. It was cheap, seedy, filled with lowlifes, and, well, it smelt. Really bad. Boy, if Adrian was in the guy's position and had the chance to celebrate with a beautiful girl, he would've taken her to the new pizza place that opened a few doors down from Fennel Fields. It wasn't fancy, but there were candles and comfy booths and lots of flowers, and the food tasted fantastic. Every time he passed it, Adrian thought, 'That would be a nice spot to go on a date,' and that thought was immediately followed by the deprecating, 'Like, I could get a date.'

"I like this bar," Charlie defended himself. He flicked his cigarette to the ground. "Stomp it out for me, Y/N?"

Y/N looked down at her nice new shoes. She'd bought them specifically for tonight, and yeah, they were expensive and probably a bit impractical, but she wanted to make an effort. She agreed reluctantly and squished the butt underneath her shoe, but that was it. Y/N had never been a person who cared too much about appearances, whether about herself or those around her, and she knew that her shoe could be cleaned. In this moment, in the here and now, Y/N felt as if it mattered more than anything.

"Can we go home?" she urged, her voice so small and fragile that Charlie barely heard her at first. 

"I thought you wanted to fucking enjoy yourself, honey," Charlie responded, his expression hardening. "Do you think I wanted to do this tonight? My buddies said they were going to the range tonight, but I'm here. With you."

"Okay, Charlie." She wiped a hand down her face, smudging her eyeliner a bit. "Next time your buddies ask you to go to the range, you should go with them."

"Cool, thanks," Charlie grinned wolfishly, flashing a row of perfectly straight teeth. He didn't understand why she was being so chill about this whole thing, but he wasn't going to pass up this opportunity. 

Her hands rubbed up and down her bare biceps in order to warm herself up a bit. "Yeah, it's not as if you'll have a girlfriend to hold you back from doing whatever you want from now on," she announced confidently. She was determined, despite her fear, because she knew that her life would be so much worse without Charlie in it. 

Life as a single woman would be filled with freedom. No more arguments or screaming matches. No more being disappointed when Charlie chose his friends, his job, the Knicks game, and everything over her.

"Babe, knock it off," Charlie warned her.

It was at this part that Adrian knew what kind of guy Charlie was because just as Y/N was about to put some distance between them, he swiped his hand out and clamped his hand around her wrist, yanking her harshly towards him. "Ow. Let go, Charlie." She tried struggling free, but he held her tighter, keeping her firmly in place.

In an instant, Vigilante was revealing himself to step in. There was no way this situation could get any worse, right? If Vigilante stepped in now, the boyfriend would run away, and she'd be free of him from this moment on. "The lady wants to leave," Vigilante interrupted in a way so cheesy that the couple stopped in place instantly and stared at him. 

The arrival of this new person didn't cause Charlie to loosen his grip; quite the contrary. Y/N let out a pained whimper, and she was sure she'd have a red splotch on her skin when this was all over. "I think you might be hurting her, dude," Vigilante pointed out, taking a step closer to the pair, making Charlie tense up in anticipation of a fight. "You gonna let go, or do I have to make you let go?"

Charlie glared at the masked hero. "Fuck off," he growled. "She's my girl, 'dude.' I can do whatever I want with her."

Before Vigilante could say anything else, a punch happened. Y/N reared back and used her free hand to pummelled her boyfriend - ex-boyfriend now - right on his nose. He recoiled with a howl of pain, then cradled his reddened nose, looking ready to attack again.

"What the hell was that for?!"

Adrian was in love. He'd always been a sucker for a woman who was prepared to literally fight for herself. It was badass! She was a badass! She was so incredibly brave, fighting for herself instead of giving in.

With a grunt, Charlie lunged for Y/N, but Vigilante wedged himself between them before he got the chance. "Woah, woah, dude, cool your shit!" He pushed the guy away and stood protectively in front of Y/N. Vigilante, ever so gently, pulled her behind him like he was her personal bodyguard.

"It's probably best if you leave now, bud," Vigilante said, glancing down at Charlie, "Cause if you lay a hand on her again, I will force you to eat your own fingers."

That seemed to scare Charlie off a bit, since he took a step back. He glared at Vigilante for a second, thinking over how many bones the maniac would break if he tried one more time to grab his girlfriend and pull her away, before he realised that was a terrible idea. He scowled and muttered something under his breath, then turned to Y/N with a sneer. "We are going to talk about this tomorrow, Y/N."

"I will drop your stuff off on your doorstep tomorrow, but that's it."

"But-"

Vigilante unclipped his gun from his belt and waved it at Charlie. "I'm gonna shoot you in the ass in 3...2...."

Without hesitation, Charlie bolted down the street. Once he rounded the corner, Vigilante giggled, "The safety is on, fuckin' idiot!" to himself and placed the gun back on his belt.

Y/N didn't move from where she was standing. She stayed frozen in her spot until, all of a sudden, her throat released a joyous cheer; her eyes were bright and shiny, and she jumped up and down. She couldn't contain her excitement.

"Thank you!"

"Me? You're the one who sucker-punched him! You were just like, POW!" He mimicked her punch, and even though she couldn't see his face, she could tell that he had a wide grin. "Ooh, that had to hurt!"

She laughed, feeling so, so giddy, and she wrapped her arms around his torso to give him a big hug, causing him to stumble slightly, but he caught his balance. He didn't know what to do. What do you do when a random pretty girl throws herself at you? In Adrian's case, just stand there awkwardly as she hugs you. It wasn't exactly an experience he was well versed in.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jump on you like that," she apologised, her cheeks burning. She pulled away from him and stepped backward. 

"No, no, it's okay," he insisted, trying to sound as confident as possible. "It's fine. Don't worry about it." He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "I uh... are you, y'know, good? Like, that was super cool and all, but does your fist hurt?"

"A little," she admitted, rubbing the knuckles of her right hand, which were beginning to swell. "It was kind of cool of me, wasn't it?"

"It was epic, Y/N!" He cheered. "Just super hot!"

Y/N laughed again, though this time it was far more flustered. She tried her hardest not to react in any way to his comment, but there was a prominent blush on her cheeks, which told a different story. And it only got worse when he continued to compliment her. 

"I mean, this dress is, like, perfect on you, and then you took a swing at him and..." He made a horny groan. "I gotta stop before I pop a boner."

He was expecting repulsion or disgust, but instead Y/N cackled. She had a great laugh. It was warm and bubbly, and she didn't seem to shy away from how lively it was.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to say that last part out loud," Adrian murmured as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Uh, I, uh, wanted to make sure you were okay. I saw him grab you and..." 

He glanced down at her wrist to find that a red mark was already forming, so Adrian gently reached for her hand and brushed his gloved thumb across the sensitive skin there. "This is going to bruise. You got any Arnica at home?" he asked, concern colouring his tone.

"Probably, yeah. I bet there's a tube somewhere in my apartment."

"It sucks. Everyone knows you don't bruise pretty girls." He tipped his head just a little bit as if he was thinking. "Unless they ask and you have spoken about boundaries and consent and degrees of impact play beforehand."

Honestly, Y/N didn't know how to respond. He'd said it so casually, almost as if he hadn't complimented her, then proceeded to talk about safe, rough sex like he was talking about the weather. He continued to stroke his thumb across the veins in the middle of her wrist, and while she appreciated the gesture, she also didn't think it was fair to Charlie to indulge in this other man literally five minutes after their argument.

"I should... I should go," Y/N muttered quietly after a moment. Vigilante nodded, reluctantly letting go of her. "Thank you, again. Thank you for cheering me up. I needed it."

"Anytime."

He smiled softly, his gaze dropping to the ground momentarily before meeting hers once again. He gave her a nod and watched as Y/N started walking away, trying her best to ignore the overwhelming desire to get to know the funny guy in the hot superhero suit. Just before she was out of sight, she turned back around to give him a little wave, which he returned without hesitation. He waved his arm from side to side rather than his hand like a child. It made her laugh once again, and that was entirely his objective.

"She was so hot, oh my god," Adrian mumbled to himself. "Focus on patrol, dude. Gotta get my mind off that fuckin' babe."

To shake away the thoughts, he literally shook his whole body. He twisted and turned and swung his arms around as if he was performing a weird dance routine. After a few moments, he stopped moving and just stood still to see if it had worked.

He bet Y/N would've found his little jiggle funny.

"Shit."

Nope. The thought of her was still firmly planted in his mind. She was stuck there, and a part of him never wanted her to leave. It certainly didn't help that he came across her in the exact same alley a week later. She wasn't in date attire this time, just a nice t-shirt and skirt, but still was a knockout.

Clearly, two drunk guys also thought so too, as she was politely trying to decline their advances despite their persistent attempts to convince her to go on a date. They both seemed oblivious to her disinterest in their proposition and kept pressing her further, making her increasingly uncomfortable. "Come on, baby, let me show you a good time!" The first one cooed, reaching out to touch her cheek. She flinched away and attempted to move out of his reach. "Aw, c'mon, why you gotta be such a prude?!"

As Y/N went to reply, she noticed a familiar red visor walking up behind the two men. Vigilante was the reason why she was here. She'd intended to thank him for giving her the confidence to officially break up with her douchebag boyfriend and offer to buy him the most expensive cocktail that the bar sold. But as they often do, a man - or in this case, two men - had to go and try to ruin a woman's night.

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"There we go, sweetheart, there's that smile you were missing," the other of the pair purred.

"Look behind you," she whispered with glee.

The two of them whipped their heads around, only to immediately lose all semblance of coherent thought when they caught sight of Vigilante. Their eyes bugged out, and they began stumbling backward, trying desperately to get away from the hero. 

"Heeeeeey, Vigilante, we were just talkin' to our girl and-"

"Oh, you were just talking?"

"Uh, yep."

Vigilante narrowed his eyes. The two guys looked scared shitless now and even though the red visor obscured his dark expression, his gaze, plus his posture and body language, gave him a dangerous aura. He slowly walked closer to them, and they scrambled to try to run away. The playfulness of his usual demeanour returned for a moment to ask Y/N, "Want me to beat them up?"

"Honestly, yeah. They're dicks."

"Fuckin' sick."

In an instant, Vigilante took the lid off the nearest bin and chucked it at the legs of the fleeing men, sending them sprawling onto the concrete floor with a cry of pain. Vigilante didn't waste a second before stalking towards them and focusing on the one who'd creepily stroked Y/N's face - who he called Creep #1 in his head - and kicking him in the stomach so the guy let out a whimper.

Creep #2 attempted to crawl away, but he didn't get very far. Vigilante grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him off the ground. The man stared up at him with fear in his eyes and started spouting gibberish, begging for forgiveness. Vigilante ignored him and lifted him right off the ground before slamming him against the wall. "Personally, I think you should apologise to the pretty lady. What do you think, Y/N? Do you want an apology?"

"I'd love an apology."

"You heard the lady," Vigilante urged, "Apologise."

Pathetically, the guy babbled out a few words, none of them understandable, before finally settling on the fact that he was sorry. With that being said, he started sobbing like an infant, begging for mercy and for someone else to save him. The sound of his pleas did nothing to deter Vigilante, however, and he simply dragged Creep #1 beside his buddy and held a gun to his head. "Your turn," Adrian hissed menacingly, pointing the barrel into Creep #1's temple.

Thanks to their previous meeting, Y/N knew that he hadn't clicked the safety off and knew that he was just threatening them like he'd done to her ex-boyfriend. She could indulge in the power of having Vigilante as a guard dog without having to worry that he was actually going to blow their brains out. Well, he could. With one little click, he could make this situation very messy. 

Maybe it would be best if she cut this short in order to prevent that from happening.

"If you promise to leave women who you don't know alone, I'll let you run away now," Y/N offered, and they were nodding frantically. 

They didn't need to be told twice and rushed to mumble out apologies before running away and disappearing down the opposite end of the alley.

"Fancy seeing you here, Y/N."

"I was looking for you."

This was unheard of. Nobody ever sought him out. Usually, it was the other way around.

"You were looking for me? Like, really?"

"Really."

He swung his arms back and forth like a child who couldn't sit still as the excitement bubbled up inside him. The possibility that she'd had one thought - even one that was fleeting and negative - about him was huge news. Their time together, no matter how short it had been, had left an imprint on her brain.

"I just wanted to, um, buy you a beer or cocktail or a smoothie or a coffee. Whatever you want, actually."

"What about a hot chocolate?"

"Yeah, I'll get you a hot chocolate. I don't know if there's a coffee shop open at this time, but we can look."

So, the search began. She began to walk out of the alley in search of a cafe, and he hurried after her, trying not to make a fool of himself by tripping over his own because he couldn't stop staring at her ass. Did he stumble after every other step? Yes, yes he did. Adrian caught up with her eventually. She'd been talking to him about something, probably guesstimating how far they'd have to walk, and thanks to the mask, she had no idea that his brain was switching between 'wow, she has a great ass' and 'stop being a fucking pervert.'.

Soon, a glowing Starbucks logo could be seen in the glowing distance, and, luckily, it was in the safer part of town that she'd parked in. Y/N guided him towards her vehicle.

"Why are you buying me hot chocolate?"

Y/N nonchalantly shrugged and kept her eyes on the street ahead of her. "To say thanks for saving me from an awful relationship... and just then, I guess, so double thanks."

"Oh." He was so relieved that she couldn't see the dopey expression on his face or the pink across his cheeks and nose. "Double you're welcome, then."

The pair decided that it would be best if they used the drive-through. The wanted serial murderer Vigilante couldn't walk into a Starbucks without someone calling the cops on him. That wouldn't have gone down well at all. Besides, it was nice for them to continue their alone time.

While Y/N ordered and interacted with the bored teen at the drive-through window, Vigilante ducked down into the footwell in the hopes he couldn't be seen. "Who's that guy?" The college kid at the window asked as they pointed towards the lump of Kevlar in the passenger's seat. 

Furrowing her brows as if she was confused by the question, Y/N smirked, "What guy?" and drove away before any further investigation could be conducted, leaving the poor kid to wonder whether he was seeing things.

They parked up in a nearby lot and just sat there, talking, both taking sips of their hot chocolates as they spoke. It was a bit weird to watch an adult man push a straw up his superhero mask in order to consume a whipped cream-topped drink, but Y/N had to admit that he was quite cute while doing so. And even when their drinks had completely depleted, they continued talking. Adrian had completely forgotten that he was supposed to be on patrol, but as much as he tried, he was unable to focus properly on anything else when Y/N was sitting next to him with that beautiful smile of hers.

"How does your mask work?" Y/N enquired, and there was a hint of something in her voice that Adrian couldn't quite place in the moment, but he would come to understand in a minute or two.

"It's a pull-on."

"Yeah?" She leaned across the gearstick, her fingers drifting from the centre of his chest up to the hemline of his mask. She hesitated a moment before her forefinger delved underneath the fabric. "Is it a full-on/full-off kind of thing? Or can you, y'know, roll it up to here?"

With her other hand, she poked at the area between the top of his lip and nose.

"It can roll," Adrian said in almost a whisper. His heart was beating hard and fast. 

Why wasn't he doing anything? She was one tug away from revealing his identity, and he just sat there, completely frozen. He watched as she lifted the bottom of his mask and rolled it up enough to reveal his mouth, which was parted slightly in surprise. Did he have any idea what she was doing and why he was letting her do this? No, not a clue. Did he just accept whatever it was she'd planned, assuming that would respect his boundaries despite the fact that they didn't really know each other?

Luckily, what she wanted to do was exactly the same as what he wanted to do.

"Vigilante?"

"Hmmm...?"

He'd often been told that he was dumb, but right here in this moment, he was so glad that there was nothing in his brain. He couldn't form a coherent sentence, so he didn't even try. He willingly let her tilt his chin and didn't even try to hide the way his breath hitched because of that.

"I don't have a boyfriend anymore. I'm completely single and want to thank you for saving me. So...?"

"Oh!"

Now, he understood. His lips were on hers immediately, and he kissed her with everything he had in him. His hands moved to cup her cheeks, fingers ghosting along the contour of her face until they met her hair and tangled themselves in her strands, holding her to him like a lifeline.

"You taste like hot chocolate," he mumbled against her mouth as he pulled away, causing her smile to stretch wider than she thought possible.

"So do you."

She smiled coyly, her voice barely above a murmur, before she leaned back in again. They kissed again. And again. Each time growing more heated than the last.

"C'mere," he whined as he moved his arm around her hips, gently tugging her across the console and onto his lap. She brought her legs up on either side of him, allowing herself to press against his chest and her hands gripping onto the fabric of his suit.

With every passing second and each smack of their lips, the desire that was beginning to build up in Adrian grew stronger. His suit was great for battle, but thanks to his mask and gloves, his touch sensitivity was severely lacking, so he broke apart for as long as it took to bite his gloves off. As soon as they were removed, he couldn't stop the way his palms had drifted from where they started just above her knee up to her thigh, the edge of her skirt brushing against his bare hand, and up and up and up until he had a handful of her ass.

"Fuck," Adrian muttered as he felt her panties under his thumb. He couldn't think of a better word to describe the sensation. It was overwhelming. Exhilarating. And so, so sexy. 

It was 'Fuck.' 

"Fuck," she echoed. The word was breathless, a little husky, and filled with longing and need. She had to pull away. Her breath was heavy, her chest rising and falling in excitement as they looked at each other with lustful eyes. "Do you wanna, - I can't believe I'm going to ask this like we're horny teenagers - wanna get in the backseat?"

Vigilante stared at her for what seemed to be forever as he processed what she'd said. A smirk found its way onto his lips, making his dimples appear. "You mean, like, fuckin'? Right?" he felt the need to confirm, just to make sure. 

He'd read situations like this wrong before, and he didn't want to fuck this up. She nodded and laughed a short, breathy laugh, and suddenly, he was laughing too.

"Awesome, I'd be honoured to fuck you."

Though her car wasn't the biggest, she was climbing past the gap between the front seats. For a few brief seconds, her ass was directly beside his head, and, yeah, Adrian wasn't going to pass up a chance to spank her. "Hey!" She exclaimed, though there wasn't a hint of anger in her tone or annoyance on her features. 

Instead, Y/N sat in the backseat and beckoned Vigilante to follow her with a seductive finger curl. Obviously, he complied and was crawling his way into the back of the vehicle for some debauchery. The car got all steamed up from all their heavy breathing and general sweatiness combined. It wasn't the most comfortable they'd ever been, to say the least, but they were still incredibly satisfied when all was said and done.

Y/N flopped her forehead onto Vig's shoulder pad as she caught her breath, her heart rate slowly coming back down to normal after their physical activity.

"I really liked fucking you," he said bluntly, "Like, seriously, that was amazing. Fuckin' fantastic."

"I really liked being fucked by you."

She did an extremely unattractive snort, but that didn't deter him from tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and cupping her cheek. Their faces were inches apart, and he could see all of her freckles and each little detail of her facial features. He wanted to memorise every single one of them, no matter how fleeting these moments might turn out to be.

Vigilante placed a soft, gentle kiss on the side of her head and put a hand behind her neck to massage it gently, making her sigh blissfully and relax more into his embrace. "We should go soon. I think this parking lot closes at 12," he commented. Y/N looked up at the visor still covering his gaze, her eyes going all doe-ish, and hummed in agreement. 

Yeah, she wanted to stay in this moment for as long as she was allowed to, but she'd definitely be fined, and her car would be stuck in the lot until the morning. 

"I have an apartment," she added.

"Oh, cool. So do I."

"Let me rephrase that. I have an apartment with a big, comfy bed that I wouldn't mind - " Y/N paused to brush her thumb along his bottom lip. " - sharing with you."

"...Wha? Are you being for real? Am I dreaming?" 

This was going so well that there was a high probability that it was a fantasy. Maybe if Adrian closed his eyes hard enough, he'd wake up to find himself lying in bed at home with a wet patch on the sheets. But they proceeded to repeat the debauchery as soon as they stepped within the threshold of her apartment, and then they repeated it again and again. And again the next day. And the day after that too. And quickly, a routine began.

Every night, Vigilante would: 1) carry out his patrol, 2) make his way to her apartment, and 3) then tug the bottom half of his mask up as he knocked on her front door. He would be bringing her into a snog the second she was revealed to him.

They didn't always fuck - though it was more often than not - but often found themselves chatting away instead, laughing or telling stories, and sometimes even just kissing. It was as if they were a couple, except for the fact she had no idea who he was.

But she would. Life has a way of making things happen, no matter how unexpected or unwanted the thing may have been. Was it Y/N's choice to go to Fennel Fields for a family dinner? No, that was her father's fault. He'd heard that the mozzarella sticks were pretty tasty, and that was enough to sway her ol' pa.

Throughout the dinner, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. She had no idea whether it was malicious voyeurism or maybe she just had something in her teeth. Either way, she could feel eyes burning a hole through her skull. She glanced around for a clue of what was going on or who it might be, but there was no sign of anything amiss.

"You okay, honey?" Y/N's mother whispered, noticing how distracted she had been. It wasn't that unusual for Y/N to zone out during family dinners, especially when her brother's stories got super boring, which they often did. 

"Hmmm...? Yes, yeah, I'm okay." Her eyes scanned the restaurant once more. Still nothing. "I'm just gonna go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

On her way to the ladies, Y/N noticed a certain busboy with serial killer specs that seemed somewhat familiar to her. A customer asked him a question, and he tilted his head to the side and looked upwards as if he was searching his brain for what to say. Weird. Vigilante did that too. 

It had been hard to notice at first. The visor hid most of his facial mannerisms, but she always had a particular fondness for his eyes. Honestly, it may have been a coincidence. People are allowed to share mannerisms. A lot of people talk with their hands, but that simple commonality doesn't mean the individuals are alike in any way. 

So, she let it slide and went to the bathroom just as she said she would.

It was unfortunate for Adrian that the layout of the restaurant meant that to get to the kitchen, you'd have to pass by the entrance to the bathrooms. He'd been attempting to avoid Y/N as soon as he saw her arrive. That became impossible to do as the pair bumped into each other when he walked directly in front of the bathroom door as she was exiting it.

If he didn't have super quick reflexes, they both would have been wiped out. He managed to regain his footing and grabbed hold of her elbows to steady her and stopped Y/N from tumbling backward. His eyes widened as soon as he realised who was before him, and he quickly let go of her arms as soon as he registered who she was.

"Oh, shit! I'm so sorry. Did I-"

Same mannerisms, same voice, and now that he was up close, she could see that the bottom half of his face was similar to. She hovered her palm over the top portion of his face, and yeah, things made sense now. This random busboy was Vigilante. There was no way she could've mistaken him. 

She cooed, "Hey, baby."

Every single particle of Adrian's being wanted to soften, but he kept his mouth in a frown. Sure, the corners of his lips kept twitching upwards, but he was trying.

"D-do, do I k-know you?" He stammered, though he was very unconvincing. 

The cat was out of the bag, and there wasn't any way it could be stuffed back in. Not when she titled his name badge so she could read what it said.

"I'll see you later, Adrian. Leave this uniform on for me. There's no need to dress up, okay?"

With those words, she gave him a peck on the cheek and returned to her family dinner without giving him the chance to protest. Adrian stared after her for what felt like hours before his manager yelled at him to get back to work.

Working after that was hard. His mind was elsewhere. It was running through all the scenarios that could go wrong because of this interaction. All of them ended terribly. And all of them ensured that his work performance had plummeted dramatically. So dramatically, in fact, that his boss thought he'd come down with some fast-acting disease and sent him home early.

Adrian was at Y/N's apartment half an hour before she got home. He'd debated with himself about picking her lock multiple times but ultimately decided against it since he was dressed as himself and one of her neighbours had greeted him as they passed.

"Fancy seeing you here, Vig." She whispered his name teasingly and smiled at him as she opened the door for him.

"Uh... hi," he murmured, unsure of what else he should say. He cleared his throat and tried for a nonchalant, "...Can I come in?"

"You usually just walk in these days," she responded, closing the door behind him and crossing her arms across her chest.

"Well... um..." He scratched the back of his head nervously, shifting his weight from foot to foot, "I wanted to see you. And, uh, for you to... see me. I totally understand if you're not into it now that the mystery is gone, but-"

He was cut off as Y/N pulled him closer by his collar, placing her hands on either side of his face and pressing her lips against his own. Adrian's eyes closed as he reciprocated the kiss, slowly leaning his body closer and closer towards hers.

"I imagined what you looked like so many times."

"I'm sorry. You probably were expecting -"

Once again, he was interrupted by Y/N snogging the hell out of him. "You're better than what I expected, so pretty," she breathed between kisses. Adrian ran his fingers through her hair and held her firmly against him. Their tongues entwined together, sending sparks of electricity throughout their bodies.

It took 0.0000002 seconds for him to come to a decision on how to proceed. His shirt was whipped off and thrown somewhere else before his lips pressed against hers and pinned her to the nearest wall.

"Promise to keep my secret?"

"What secret?"

"...The Vigilante thing."

"Yeah, I know. I was doing the... forget it. I promise not to tell anyone about your alter ego, Vee."

Y/N giggled when she felt Adrian's nose gently bump hers. Gently, she took his hand and led him towards her bedroom. She'd done that so many times before, yet this was the first instance where she got to witness the lovesick look on his face.

From here on out, she would continue to see that look since it had never left his face when she was around. And if he happened to have his visor on, she knew what was hidden underneath and how dopey of a smile he'd have.

*Click here for my masterlist*

Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!'

Peacemaker taglist: @kpopgirlbtssvt, @adriansboyfriend, @10ava01, @n1ghtw1ngslvr

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Hi! It's a new year, and I've decided to make a small change to my space. I might gif less than I did last year cause at the end of the year I felt a bit of a burnout with the whole process, so I'll gif when I feel like it, and might not keep it as consistent. Also, I sorta got over myself and my insecurities and have started just posting more random thoughts, because who cares? This is my house and I shall inflict my opinions and silly thoughts on my followers. It's been great. I will update this post through the month mostly with links to the stuff I write in the meantime.

QL - Currently Watching

🇯🇵 Call Me by No-Name [4/8] - The visuals are the best part of this for me. Although I'm getting increasingly curious about the name. Just like @lurkingshan wrote here, I was underwhelmed by the bloody hands reveal. I was expecting something darker, because well, the show kinda put me in that mindset. I'm having trouble connecting to Megumi on any level tbh, and it's Kotoha that holds my attention.

🇰🇷 FC Soldout [3/10] - This was by far the best episode so far. It seems there's a pining boy, second chance romance thing going on. And there was some actual football happening this episode, so things are looking up.

🇨🇳 I'll Turn Around This Time [4/6] - I'm caught up.

🇹🇼 Impression of Youth [4/9] - That was faster than I expected. The scene in the classroom was very well done. And it seems like things will progress quite quickly from here. I'm enjoying the main couple more than I thought I would. I don't know how I feel about the second couple. I'm just not feeling right now, although that might change.

🇹🇭 Ossan's Love Th [4/12] - I love them. Surprising, I know. Mix is just always a delight. Earth is doing a great job and the show is actually funny. And insane obviously. I'm having a wonderful time basically.

🇹🇭 Perfect 10 Liners [14/24] - I adore them.

🇹🇭 Sangmin Dinneaw [5/8] - This show is definitely one of the weirdest I ever saw. The whiplash from one scene to the next is unparalleled. They are kinda cute but I'm kinda over it. Also at this point, I kinda don't want the sides to end up together. Athit, please sweetie, don't settle for being the backup. But of course he's gonna.

🇹🇭 The Boy Next World [4/10] - Ok, so we all agree that Cir is just more than a little insane, like probably because of that mother, and not really from a parallel universe, and has probably been stalking watching Phu from afar since that day in the classroom, right? Great.

🇹🇭 The Heart Killers [10/12] - I'm still watching quietly.

🇹🇭 ThamePo [8/13] - A triangle well done. I continue to love the friendships being important and the group scenes are so good. ThamePo are quickly becoming a favourite thai bl couple for me. The romance is so good and I'm constantly in a very undignified state of euphoria while watching them.

🇯🇵 When It Rains, It Pours [4/7] - Just misery. All around. More here.

🇹🇭 Your Sky [11/12] - Hia and Real need to get on with it. Lee and Ghlai need their own show. Teerak and Fah continue to be the most lovable couple in all the land.

QL - Finished

🇹🇭 Caged Again - Junior was delightful but the show got a bit choppy towards the end, there was too much time spent on the bad guys and I think the pacing suffered so the show lost me a bit in the last couple of episodes. JuniorSun delivered some great moments. I continue to love Nokia and Jaonine and will tune in if they make another show.

🇹🇭 Fourever You - I can't believe it's over. This was a long, hard slog. I like most of the actors a lot and they were what kept me going until the end. Hill and Ter get all the awards for miscommunication.

🇯🇵Miseinen - I think it started off really good but eventually the show got too much into the metaphors and the visuals and the story suffered. I really recommend reading the manhwa because I think the themes in the show kinda fell apart at some point and in that way I think the source material is much more satisfying. I still like the show overall and the actors did a wonderful job, but the show raised my expectations a lot and then couldn't really deliver.

🇹🇼 See Your Love - I love them a normal amount. That scene in the closet will make any favourite scenes list in the foreseeable future. This show did a lot of things well. The dad was still an asshole by the end, Ji Xiang wasn't magically fixed by the power of love, Shaopeng wasn't perfect and his family was one of the best parts and that dad vs dad scene was epic. With that said, everything else, the family drama and the side couple, was a mess. They all kiss good tho. As we've come to expect from Taiwan the kissing was very good all around, as were the nc scenes. I think they all had good chemistry, although I wish the side couple's story was tighter.

Others - Watched

It's been mostly a month of rewatches so not a lot to report. I did watch Paradise of Thorns a couple of weeks ago and I still have a lot of hate in my heart. Also squid game S2 , which I loved but pissed me off that they split the storyline into two seasons cause now I have to wait until June for the rest. Anyway...

I think that's all for now. Oh and I'm also watching and loving Red Blue. Despite what I said at the start, I'm still open for gif requests. Hope you all have a wonderful weekend and thank the heavens January is finally over. 💜

Coming in February 05/02 - 🇹🇭 Reverse with Me (GL) 06/02 - 🇰🇷 Heart Stain 07/02 - 🇻🇳 Fight for Love 08/02 - 🇹🇭 Gelboys 14/02 - 🇹🇭 The Last Time 14/02 - 🇹🇼 Exclusive Love 18/02 - 🇹🇼 Fragrance of the First Flower S2 (GL) 27/02 - 🇰🇷 Secret Relationship

[wickedpeachie]

Katara tilted her head, watching the way Zuko’s fingers loosened around the handle of the wok, knuckles still tense. She recognized that tension, that weight, she carried it too. The pressure of doing more, of making up for the past, of never feeling like enough, no matter how much you gave. And now, here he was, getting worked up over her skipping a meal. It was almost funny.  “Soooo…. you’re taking personal responsibility for my well-being now?” Her voice came out teasing, light, but there was something else beneath it—something uncertain. She knows he’s right, that more than ever they need to be in fighting shape. Missing meals, sometimes multiple times a day probably wasn’t going to help her. The last thing she wanted to be was a burden. Zuko continues, his tone firm. Her nails dig a little rougher into her palms. Despite everything, despite their history, despite the part of her that still doesn’t fully trust him, he did notice. And it mattered to him. That was… unexpected. Maybe even dangerous that it mattered to her.

“If we’re really doing this—taking care of each other or whatever—then it goes both ways.” Her eyes flickered over him, as if already imagining the fresh bruises and burns he’d no doubt collect from training with Aang. “So if you come back from training looking like you got run over by a sky bison, you come to me. No more acting like you can just walk it off.” She raised a brow, daring him to argue. “Deal?” Katara wasn’t sure what was stranger, that she was making a deal like this at all, or that she was making it with Zuko. Of all people. She had spent so long viewing him as the enemy, the villain in their story, the one she had to keep her guard up against. But now, he was the one worrying if she was eating. He was the one offering to look out for her. And she—well, she was doing the same for him. She should have felt ridiculous, uncomfortable even, but instead, there was something almost... steady about it. Something she didn’t quite have the words for yet. Maybe they were still learning how to trust each other, maybe there was still a hesitance there—but if he could stand in the kitchen, cooking for the group like it was second nature, then maybe this, this, wasn’t so strange after all. Did it lessen the ache in her heart when she thought of the Fire Nation? No. Not one bit. It didn’t quell the anger in her, the knife that twisted in her stomach. The only thing it did help was…separate Zuko from them. That it was possible, he could want all the things he’s saying to her now.

She let out a slow breath, gripping the edge of the counter as she considered him. The way her name slipped off his lips, drawing a quick zap down her spine. “I know,” she said softly. “And we will.” There was no hesitation in her voice, no doubt. There isn't another choice. If they don't stop his father... Zuko wasn’t the same person who had hunted them across the world. He wasn’t that angry, lost boy anymore. He was someone who fought beside them now. Someone who cared. Someone who, despite everything, might tip the scales in this war. Katara hesitated for only a moment, slipping from the counter as she took the spot next to him again, adding, “But you don’t have to do it alone” She shifted slightly, glancing away as she spoke. She was distracting herself, toying with the bowl in her hands. “You don’t have to fix everything by yourself. That’s why we’re together-” It wasn’t just about Zuko, she realized. It was about her, too. About the way she shouldered burdens without thinking, the way she pushed forward as if the world rested on her alone. She flipped the bowl over again, giving him a slight nudge as she scooped the food into her dish. Katara briefly brushed her fingertips over his knuckles, a quick tap, as she muttered "Thanks, Zuko" Turning again back to the other counter.

Katara kept her back to him, pretending to focus on her food even as an odd weight settled in her chest. It was confusing—more than she wanted to admit, that she could stand here, side by side with him, talking about burdens and responsibility as if they were the same. As if she hadn’t spent so long believing he was just another one of those burdens. But now, here they were, making quiet deals about taking care of each other, slipping into something that felt dangerously close to trust. She curled her fingers tighter around her bowl, grounding herself in the warmth of the food, the simplicity of the moment. It shouldn’t feel this complicated. It shouldn’t leave her feeling so unsteady. “Aang is probably waiting for you,” she tossed over her shoulder, hoping her voice didn’t betray the unease curling at the edges of her thoughts. She didn’t wait for his response, just focused on her food, as if that might be enough to keep the rest of her emotions in check.

her  response  leaves  him  flustering,  the  reminder  somewhat  dulling  the  frustration  building  in  him  to  a  calm  ...  with  a  tinge  of  embarrassment.  his  hand  slows,  dampening  his  sharp  movements  into  something  less  tense.  she'd  been  right,  of  course,  it's  not  completely  unreasonable  for  Katara  not  to  think  to  rely  on  him  in  that  way.  why  would  she?  he'd  betrayed  her  and  he  is  still  groveling  to  earn  back  her  trust.  but  still  ...  would  it  have  been  so  hard  for  her  to  say  something?  wasn't  she  hungry?  wasn't  this  what  she  always  did  --  telling  people  what  they  needed  to  do?  why  was  it  so  different  when  it  comes  to  herself?  the  questions  comes  rushing  in  his  mind  in  waves,  one  after  another  without  pause  he  feels  his  head  is  about  to  explode.

he  debates  what  to  say,  not  wanting  to  say  the  wrong  thing  as  his  heart  twists  when  she  blames  herself  for  not  eating.  he  supposes  she  is  right,  in  a  way  ...  you  are  most  responsible  for  yourself.  however,  that  thought  is  not  enough  to  ease  the  ache  in  his  chest  --  in  a  group  like  this,  where  no  one  should  be  left  behind  ...  it  shouldn't  fall  entirely  on  her  to  make  sure  she  gets  a  meal.

and why  does  it  bother  him  so  much  that  she  doesn't  even  expect  someone,  anyone  to  think  of  her  in  return?

"I  guess  I  can  take  on  the  job of  making  sure  everyone,  including  you  --  gets  enough  food  for  training."  he  tries  to  keep  his  tone  as  casual  as  he  can,  like  its  just  another  responsibility  ...  another  practical  task  divided  among  the  group.  he  continues  to  busy  himself  with  the  food,  letting  his  words  settle  before  he  adds,  "to  master  bending,  you  need  to  take  care  of  yourself.  that  means  eating  enough,  resting  enough  ...  this applies for  everyone,  no  exceptions."  he  explains,  pride  blooming  in  his  chest.  for  once he  feels  like  a  true  fire  bending  master  offering  wisdom,  the  way  Uncle  Iroh  once  did  for  him.

𝐙𝐮𝐤𝐨  let  out  a  deep  exhale,  turning  off  the  stove  once  the  food's  done.  he  hears  Katara's  question,  loud  and  clear  ...  but  he  doesn't  answer  right  away  staring  at  the  pan  as  if  the  sizzle  of  the  dying  heat  might  give  him  clarity.  because  honestly?  he  doesn't  know  how  to  answer  without  sounding  foolish, typical ... expected.  he  wants  to  help  Aang  restore  balance  to  the  world  --  he's  sure  of  that.  but  beyond  that,  what  does  he  really  want?  he  wants  to  make  things  right,  he  wants  to  be  better.  he  wants  to  be  the  kind  of  person  his  Uncle  once  believes  he  could  be.  his  fingers  tighten  around  the  handle  of  the  wok  before  he  finally  speaks,  "I  want  to  help  Aang  restore  balance  to  the  world.  I  want  to  make  up  for  what  I've  done.  I  want  to  right  all  my  wrongs."  but  in  his  head,  the  words  continue  ...  remaining  unspoken:  I  want  Uncle  Iroh  back.  he  swallows  hard,  forcing  down  the  ache  in  his  throat  before  adding,  "you  know  what  I  want,  Katara.  I  want  to  stop  my  father."

[xenninx]

apocalyptic love, i wanna ride until we die

slash ft myles kennedy and the conspirators my beloved pt2

somebody in the family needs to know how to play poker👓