#this like really bad fanfiction

[cadmuslabs777]

This is such an insult to Daneel's character and the Robot series, did this fucker not read Robots & Empire?? It was no effort for Daneel to keep his memories of Elijah and he was very worried about losing them. These authors keep butchering Asimov's characters, especially Daneel, I'm so pissed off.

[collophora]

Do yourself a favor and go read the entire fanfic work of @fanfoolishness

(In order: Under sun and shade, Blind Side, and Breathless (patching up is one of my fav too, I just had no cool sketch idea for it)

[rainbowsuitcase]

So much BTS lore feels like fanfiction and I can't get over it

Two of the members hated each other at first. They argued a lot and one time, they threw folded clothes at each other and the member who folded them had to come scold them. And now they keep reminding everyone how long they've known each other for. They wrote a song together where they said that "respect is a higher tier than love" and then called each other "my respect."

The smartest member of the group (one the previous two morons btw) didn't know how to tie his shoelaces until highschool. He doesn't eat seafood because he loves crabs. He's a literal geniues and he's so clumsy and such a dork (and I relate so deeply). And that body, guys, I'm telling you. This whole guy was made by a fanfic author.

Their company was near bankrupcy when they debuted. One of the members, who was getting offers from so many other companies, joined this one because he admired another member who was already a part of it. When these two met for the first time, member two was only wearing underwear and member one said "wow, thighs."

Another member came to an audition, not to audition himself but to support a friend. He was the only person from that audition round to get in. The friend did not.

Another member, who was studying to be an actor, was street cast on a bus.

One of them lost confidence and tried to leave before the debut, but another convinced him to come back, because they "needed him."

The whole industry hated them when they debuted and now they're arguably the best kpop group worldwide. (Arguably, read: argue with the wall)

(Add your own pls, I want to make a collection from this)

[thefrogdalorian]

Sanctuary

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: It's one of those days when your emotions threaten to overwhelm you. Despite the horrible day you're having, you try your best to keep it together. A feat you manage, until a certain Mandalorian arrives home and takes you into his arms. Word Count: 1.2k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: Descriptions of anxiety/panic attack ✯ Author's Note: Seeing these gifs the other day broke something in my brain and this little fic was the result. I hope this gets you through a day when you really need a hug from Din Djarin 💕 ✯ My Masterlist ✯

On the days when your stomach churned and you were too upset to vocalise the war that waged within yourself, you were grateful to have someone in your life who seemed to know exactly what you needed. There was no doubt that Din understood you better than you understood yourself. It was unsurprising, given how meticulous and attentive he was in everything he turned his hand to.

You had been in each other's lives for some time, yet you still found yourself pleasantly surprised each time he shared such care towards you. You never doubted Din's kind heart once you got to know him, but you were nonetheless astonished by the multitudes he contained. It was astounding how tender and caring the man, who had gained such a fearsome reputation throughout the galaxy as a ruthless bounty hunter, actually was beneath his cold, hard beskar. 

It was early in the morning when Din had left through the door and your stomach tied itself into knots as you heard his heavy footprints gradually fade into the distance. The sound indicated that you were now alone with your thoughts. Throughout the day, you had pushed your emotions to the deepest depths inside yourself. You had been trying to kid yourself, in his absence, that you could survive the day without breaking down. You told yourself over and over that if you could just make it until Din returned and then put on a brave face when he walked through the door, you would have survived the day without dissolving into pieces. The last thing you wanted was for Din to see how upset you were. The fear that you were weighing him down with your troubles or somehow holding him back from achieving greater things was omnipresent. Even though he had never given you a reason to fear such a thing, you were constantly terrified of being seen as a burden to him.

The familiar heavy footsteps grew louder; their rhythmic, even quality indicated they could belong to only one man. You took a deep breath and attempted to steady your racing heart, preparing yourself to keep it together upon Din's return.

The second you saw his figure in the doorway, you knew it was a lost cause. At the sight of the familiar outline of beskar shining in the entryway, you immediately knew that there was no way that you would be able to maintain your composure. You stood up immediately, rising off the chair you had been sitting on as you waited for him, to greet the man who owned your heart entirely. Instead of racing towards him as usual, you found yourself suddenly overcome with apprehension. Your steps faltered with uncertainty as you walked towards him on shaky legs, feeling your ability to stay strong evaporate just from laying eyes upon him. 

Din held his arms out to you without hesitation, beckoning you to come close to him.

“Come here, cyare,” Din whispered as you stepped into his orbit, his voice gravelly, “Let me hold you.”

As you closed the distance between you and Din to rest your head in the crook of his neck, you caught a glimpse of his mudhorn pauldron, glinting despite the low light of the cabin. Despite how terrible you felt, the ghost of a smile passed across your lips as you noticed the signet was so distinctively Din. Stepping into his arms felt like you were returning to safety. To your home.

You rested your head in the crook of his neck and nuzzled into his rough cowl, enjoying his familiar scent. It was musky and masculine, but not overbearing. You detected a faint hint of perspiration mixed with the floral scent you knew lingered on his skin thanks to the bottle of liquid he lathered across his tan skin in the 'fresher each morning. Din’s chestplate was firm against your body. Initially, you recoiled at the slight chill from the beskar, discernible even through your layers of clothing. Once you had adjusted to the temperature and new sensation, though, you felt nothing but warmth when you were in his arms.

As Din held you close and his hands rubbed comforting circles into your back with one strong arm holding you tightly around the waist, you appreciated the way your bodies fit together. It was as you were admiring how you seemed to be made for each other that you noticed how Din had wrapped his cape around your shoulders to further cocoon you into him. As though he was protecting you from all of the hurt that lingered outside of the sanctuary of his arms. From whatever was troubling you. There was no intense questioning, no expectations for answers. Only safety, love and understanding from a man who wanted to help you through your very worst days.

Something about nuzzling into Din’s neck and the care he had taken to raise your spirits rendered you speechless. You were overcome with emotion, powerless to stop the tears which started falling down your cheeks. At first, it was a solitary droplet, but then you couldn’t help yourself as more and more tears slipped from your eyes. 

At the first sound of your sniffles, Din pulled away from you. You felt your stomach drop in panic, momentarily afraid that you had upset him somehow. You looked up at him and felt the embarrassment settle somewhere low in your stomach, a physical symptom of the mortification you felt at your outburst. Then came the shame. You were dismayed that you had lost control of your emotions in such a way. Evidence of your loss of composure was evident in the reflection of your face in his helmet. You watched as your expression grew increasingly more distraught and felt your chest heaving as the panic rose within you, upset at your emotional state.

Fortunately, Din was nothing but understanding and caring. Before your thoughts could spiral anywhere darker, he began to use his soft leather gloves against your cheeks to dry the tears that were burning hot trails down your skin. It distracted you from your anguish, his tender touch providing instant comfort.

You relished the contact and melted into his embrace. Between his hand that lingered on your cheek, while the other rubbed your back and ensured his cape still swaddled you, your mood was instantly calmer. Din brought you back into his shoulder and returned his hands to your back, rubbing up and down as he held you close. You wrapped your arms around his waist, relishing the small contact you gained with the warmth of his flesh between the hard plates of his beskar. You stayed like that for a few more minutes, feeling your anguish dissipate with each second that Din held you.

Eventually, your breathing evened out and returned to a less frantic pace. Sensing that his embrace had had the intended effect on your fragile emotional state, Din pulled away once again and brought his hands to cup your jaw gently.

“How are you feeling now?” he rasped as he stroked your cheeks with his gloved thumbs. 

“Being in your arms always makes me feel better,” you smiled.

“I’d hold you for the rest of my days if you only asked me to, cyare,” Din vowed with a nod of his helmet. 

You smiled then, enjoying the way your face lit up with a smile and how your eyes had regained their sparkle thanks to the tight embrace of your attentive Mandalorian; your sanctuary.

[lizzylucky]

Draxum hadn't accounted for the fact that when he gave four hatchling turtles the DNA of a human being in order to give them greater intelligence, he would effectively be making himself a surrogate father to actual children, with wildly different needs.

When he sent his gargoyles to obtain a sample of DNA from Big Mama's prized warrior, the intention was to create his own. They were to be the prototypes for an army of simple creatures with just enough heightened intelligence to learn combat and follow commands, that he might defend Yokai kind with.

Instead, he quickly discovered the integration of human DNA had been a little over successful in allowing his test subjects to learn and think and feel in a civilized manner, going so far as to override some of their natural instincts as turtles that would otherwise allow them to learn to care for themselves. He had to feed them, by hand, with bottles.

Like infants.

They were easily distraught by unfamiliar things, and quickly became dependent on Draxum in every sense of the word. They babbled, they cried, they explored things with their hands, their tails, their mouths.

It was an unplanned adjustment needed to be made, but no matter. If anything, learning to understand the new hybrid emotions of these turtles would allow Draxum greater advantages when they grew enough to safely learn combat. Preferences, likes and dislikes, needs, diet, and so on, all became more complex areas of study.

Even a couple years in, he found himself continually surprised. Brain scans had shown that the turtles were more intelligent, still, than anticipated. They, truly, seemed more human in mind and function than anything else, with only some base instincts and behaviors left to influence their personalities. They retained many reptilian traits, but overall had the bipedal anatomy and function of humans and some Yokai. It had been an infuriating discovery at first, but Draxum had to admit that over time he became fond of it.

Each turtle had developed his own personality. The eldest, for example, had a love of plush toys, and showed a fierce protective instinct over the others. The youngest, Draxum had learned, was contrastedly reckless and excitable, not nearly so reserved or gentle as the first. Additionally, he was, decidedly, to be kept away from any and every writing utensil unless under strict supervision (unfortunately, this was learned a little too late, as was evidenced by the clear markings left in several work benches). Then, of course, were the slider and the softshell, who had the most bizarre relationship. They were constantly fighting with each other, but utterly inseparable, and each showed an incredible and unique curiosity, constantly exploring and watching and studying, with concentration filling their eyes in ways Draxum had never seen in other children so young.

Embarrassingly, it took another couple years before Draxum realized he couldn't simply refer to them by their species' names. It certainly was effective, but they were not the mild, simple creatures he had once expected them to be, and he knew that they never would.

Now, they were vocal, playful, inquisitive... energetic. By the gods, were they energetic. They never stopped moving, never stopped talking, never stopped eating, never stopped wanting or needing.

...This is why Draxum never had children of his own. It took all the time and energy he had to spare, and then some. Although it would be a lie to say he wished they were any other way.

They had so much capacity to learn, and with their emotional propensity could one day come to understand exactly why Draxum was doing this, which he knew would be an edge in their combative styles.

As he introduced them, slowly, to more of the world's culture and knowledge, he felt, in a new way, that their very existences were revolutionary. A perfect, synergistic unity between two entirely different families of genetic material, with numerous enhanced abilities. And they were children. They maintained all the properties of regular children, but had so much more in store! Such grand destinies! They would be, inarguably, the greatest warriors of their time when they were grown. They would be the compassionate, skillful heroes of all Yokai, the first of a new generation of super mutants, and the key to overcoming the evils of the humans who had overtaken the surface and posed such threat to all who lived below.

It was with great reluctance that he allowed himself to accept, however, that not all of mankind was evil. There were many forms of art, beautiful in different ways, there were some rare people filled with kindness, inventions that utilized resources in ways Yokai kind had never thought to. Perhaps he had been a little stubborn in his ways, a bias cementing over time that blinded him to some of the beauty that did yet exist in such a species.

Make no mistake, humans were a threat. Innocent families lived in fear, in hiding, of the governments and ruthless sciences designed to invade, to blaspheme the name of knowledge, with no regard for the safety of this people.

Draxum could live with being an outlaw to the Yokai if his experiments would lead to their salvation. He may be their villain in today's papers, but in history books he would be a hero.

Still, he wished to amend some of his practices. Even if only to his turtles, he would be known for his ability to change and understand. He would be fair, and he would be truthful.

And so it was that he told the turtles the nature of their existence. Perhaps he muted some of the details, to protect their minds until they had more understanding, but he would not lie to them about their DNA. He told them of Lou Jitsu, and their human genetics, and he begrudgingly allowed them access to the culture of the humans. He would let them choose their interests unbiased.

In the process, he came to know of some of the revolutionaries of human history. Though he wasn't particularly inclined to believe there were no evils involved, he was intrigued by the strange moral code that the humans boasted from their different time periods. The turtles, as well, were fascinated by the stories of war heroes and generals, seamstresses and inventors, artists and royalty.

Initially, when it came time to redesignate his turtles, Draxum had been inclined toward the names of those whose legacies persisted in the humans' culture even today- perhaps a president for the slider, a scientist for the softshell, a great general for the snapper, and an artist for the young box turtle. It seemed, somehow, clandestinely right; carefully considered to exemplify each of their personalities.

And although he had begun to get used to the possibility of names like "Monroe" and "Edison", his indecision on the matter seemed to be working against him. He was taking too long, and the boys were growing smarter.

It was a day in August, later that year, that he found his two youngest arguing over a Renaissance book, oddly enough. The elder two took to a game of knocking "secret patterns" on each other's carapaces, which he dismissed before he could allow himself the confusion that came with wondering why a five year old would want to knock on a spiked shell for fun.

After breaking up the fight and confiscating the book (which, as it turned out, the youngest only wanted because it had pictures in it, much to the chagrin of the other, who insisted that reading it was much better than just looking at the pictures), Draxum found himself idly flipping through pages of rustic images and rudimentary ideas, developed by people with strange names.

Maybe he was simply too tired to consider it properly, but, feeling defeated in his endeavor, he chose four names at random and assigned them to the young turtles, deciding it had been long enough.

It took a while to get used to, but soon "Raphael", "Leonardo", "Donatello", and "Michaelangelo" truly fit.

Over time, the boys grew... ravenous. They devoured everything- food, information, technique. They were learning quickly everything Draxum taught them. They practiced with Huginn and Muninn, leapt up, around, over, and through everything in the lab, and took special interest in action-filled films.

And Draxum grew fonder. He wasn't entirely surprised, of course; it's natural to develop some sense of sentimentality when caring for anything this long. Even if they had been the simple minded turtles he expected, he knew this was inevitable, to a degree.

What startled him was the sudden sense of fear that came with watching them train. The alarm that made his heart beat harder when one of them fell from somewhere high or any time they ran simple drills with weapons not blunted and made from wood.

He subtly began to intensify their defensive strategies, taught them where they were most vulnerable so they could protect those spots, insisted on perfecting their abilities to parry, block, and dodge before anything else.

And, over time, he found himself training them less often than before, thinking, "I must preserve their innocence and prolong their childhood experiences". After all, it was an essential part of development, was it not? If it were tarnished too much, they might become unwise or unjust as warriors. And, really, Raphael was only 8 years old, and he was the eldest; they were much too young to be exposed to the harshness of what their combative training was really for.

He told himself that, time and time again. He told them that, making certain they understood that their training was not a game. It wasn't untrue, certainly.

Really, he just wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to admit to what extent he cared about them, because it was too much. It was more than he could ever have been prepared for. It was more than that passion to protect Yokai kind ever was, and if he ever realized that, he might become the compromise to his own purposes, to the very reason these turtles exist this way to begin with, and then what? What was he to tell them, why was he to train them, who did they exist for if not the inhabitants of the Hidden City?

No. He couldn't do that. He simply would not allow it, not when so much was at stake.

And yet...

More and more often he desired simply to watch them. He was growing weary with worry, and with that tight feeling that arose in his chest each time one of his boys so much as frowned.

Raphael loved to carry his brothers on his shoulders. And he prided himself on being the big brother, in every way. He liked repeating instructions Draxum gave to the others, and tended to play caretaker anytime someone was sad, or had a bruised knee. He often played the "bad guy" in their made up games so the younger ones could "win", he was the mediator in big decisions, like what book they should read before bed, and he seemed always ready with an armful of stuffed animals when he wanted to express affection. So strong, incredibly strong, but soft spoken and sweet.

Leonardo adored Raphael. Just as Raphael did Draxum, Leonardo liked to imitate and repeat instructions. He tended to take charge in many of their childish endeavors, and had a propensity for dramatics and heroism, often pretending to rescue his brothers. This seemed to irritate Donatello to no end, unless he was also playing the hero, and often times he was. The two were usually glued to the hip, though Leonardo liked to make a point to tell all his brothers about everything that went on, and would take a movie night with the three of them over a one on one outing with Draxum any day. He was exuberant and joyous, and very driven by the concept of justice.

Donatello, similarly, seemed to care very dearly about maintaining a bond with all three of his brothers, but he was peculiar, often more reserved and enjoying his alone time. That child read and read like he might never get a chance to again, and he absorbed what he read like a sponge. Quite a few times Draxum found him pulling apart whatever he could get his hands on, and though an effort was made, there was no hiding place the boy couldn't discover in his quest for Draxum's tools. In spite of his quizzical, sometimes stoic nature, Donatello was sensitive, and very thoughtful. He would spend hours talking about his books and his ideas- some of which were very clever- and he was expressive in secondary ways- sitting nearer his brothers even without interacting, crafting things out of paper as gifts. Even the little heart-shaped mark on the back of his soft shell seemed a fitting part of him- he wore his heart on his sleeve, so to speak, and didn't even realize it.

And Michaelangelo. There was an innocence and joy and goodness about the smallest turtle that had struck Draxum. Even when he was younger he always wore a smile and liked to see the good side of things. And he idolized his brothers. With him had grown his creative inclinations, filling every colouring book, drawing on every wall, and absolutely plastering the other turtles with stickers. They were a pain to wash off, but Draxum couldn't bring himself to mind it, especially given the elder three always loved their baths. Ironically, it seemed Michealangelo did not, enjoying it only under specific circumstances. Heat, bubble bath, and bath toys had quickly become a necessity. So too did bath crayons, the need to express himself coming through even when bathing. Everything about the ornate box turtle was bright and colourful.

Draxum... loved them. Dearly. Every facet of their personalities and growth. Every unique trait and behavior.

It was terrifying. He couldn't afford to love them. He couldn't afford to see any more goodness in the humanity they showed. He couldn't afford to change his goals right now.

So he continued disregarding the feeling, trying to reason that everything he did for them was to nurture their instincts as warriors, as science experiments, as specimen.

But a pained scream one day, different from any of the ones he heard when they were frightened as infants, when one of them tripped and fell, when a spat led to hitting, sent his heart into his throat and had him racing through doorways with more urgency than he had felt for anything before.

He had demanded an explanation, panic translating to perceived anger, and three of his boys looked up with teary eyes. Three, but Donatello remained curled up on the ground, wailing his little heart out without ever looking up, and it was one of the most heart wrenching, painful sounds Draxum'd ever heard.

Raphael sat not far from the smaller boy, looking over his shoulder seemingly at nothing, at Donatello, then up at Draxum and back again. Both Leonardo and Michaelangelo burst into frantic, panicked explanations, none of their words coherent enough to understand through their tears.

When Raphael stood, exposing red-tipped spikes on his shell and pointing frantically to Donatello's, it didn't take long to figure out well enough what had happened.

It became quickly a very long day. All four turtles were distraught, and though Draxum had more than enough first aid knowledge to address the situation, bile had threatened to rise the very moment he pulled out the suture kit.

The cuts were deep, and jagged. And poor Donatello cried the entire time, even after a numbing agent had been applied.

Draxum had never thought that in depth about Donatello's soft shell. Not like that. He chose a softshell for the experiment because it would provide greater flexibility, greater agility. It gave an advantage that the hard-shelled turtles did not have.

Now, here... The soft carapace, spongy and leathery and bloody...

It was an accident. Of course it was, Draxum never doubted that. He had to assure that none of his boys were in trouble, no one was in trouble, no one had done anything wrong.

But for the first time he had to be honest with himself. For the first time he couldn't deny how much he cared about the turtles. His turtles. His boys.

He wouldn't, either. If this was what it was, if this was something that could happen again because he insisted on making them into warriors, into fighters- if this could happen on purpose, if this could happen worse, if this could happen with malice and hatred in mind...

Draxum wasn't unused to physical affection, by now. All four boys adored hugs, although Donatello was usually more reserved about them. Now, Donatello clung like his life depended on it, sniffling and whimpering, having cried so long he had no more tears. Draxum clung back, idly smoothing over the edges of the bandages, holding the frightened, exhausted turtle to his chest, cradling.

He did so until well after Donatello fell asleep. He couldn't bring himself to put him down. He accompanied the others to bed, assuring them once more that things were alright, and then simply stood in the walkway, holding his boy tightly.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't go through with it. They were children, every bit as innocent and deserving as the Yokai he wished to avenge and protect. He could train them, prepare them to protect themselves, but he could never send them into battle, ask them to put their lives on the line, much less demand it.

How could he?

It took months of processing, of agonizing his way through the healing process with Donatello, of watching the other boys proving their humanity, their curiosity, and their innocence time and time and time again. His mind was constantly at war with itself, his heart constantly in turmoil and distress, worsened by the turtles' confusion at his sudden change in behavior.

What was even worse was that they would.

They would absolutely sacrifice everything they had for his approval, and for what they understood as "right". He could see them, easily, being willing to submit their very lives to a greater cause if he asked it.

But was he "right"? Even if this experiment had gone exactly as planned, was he right for ever considering putting these turtles into the station of a warrior? Even if they had remained turtles in mind, if they never expressed complex emotion, if they could not speak, if they did not have distinct and colourful personalities, would it have been right?

Was what he saw in them now what they would have been at heart, regardless of circumstance?

Or was it the humanity, that he stole from Lou Jitsu?

Perhaps... perhaps it was time to learn. To consider the root of his motivations.

He couldn't do this to them.

How could he?

[quadrantadvisor]

Multiverse, Reverse Robins au, 2,514 words

-

Jason (Red Hood)

The imposters are good, Jason will give them that.

They need to work on their looks, unfortunately, because each one of them is a little off. Their Nightwing is too bulky, and his costume isn't made with Dick's flexibility in mind. Besides that, he's got an undercut that doesn't match the shaggy way Dick has his hair now, and his blue is too dark. And the swords. Those are different.

Their little Robin looks more like Dick, actually, Dick as he was before Jason's time, with his happy grin and his bright yellow cape. He doesn't match Damian's style at all, and Jason wonders if their intel was out of date. He tucks away his anger (the way he's used to doing, now) at these bastards roping some little kid into whatever con they're trying to pull. They can help the kid after they subdue him, and he stops trying to flip-kick people in the face.

The Red Robin outfit isn't bad, but the guy playing him is way too tall to be Tim. He doesn't use a bo staff, either, clearly preferring the armory of sharp little implements he keeps tucked away in his utility belt, including a wicked looking combat knife.

Which brings Jason to the current pain in his ass, the idiot trying to pass himself off as the Red Hood.

Yeah, they'd split off into pairs to fight. First off, for practicality's sake. Less risk of friendly fire if the only guy you're trying to punch is the one who isn't you. And secondly, it's just what you do, isn't it? Somebody gives you a set up like this, you go along with the poetic justice. No bat is immune to drama.

Jason is regretting that a bit, now. Fake Hood had taken him for a ride, leading him, he now realizes, far away from the warehouse where Nightwing and Robin had initially called in the disturbance. This other guy isn't the powerhouse that Jason is, but that doesn’t matter if Jason can't ever get in a hit. His movements are precise, deadly, and familiar in a way that makes Jason suspect League training. Jason is keeping up, but barely, and that's with the advantage of his guns. The other guy hasn't touched his, still gleaming red in his holsters, and Jason has a sneaking suspicion that they aren't filled with rubber bullets.

They're at a bit of a stalemate, standing on opposite sides of a dark rooftop, and Jason's trying to catch his breath but he can't relax, not when his gaze is locked onto his opponent, waiting for the minute twitch of muscle that will indicate his next move. He's wondering if he could get a shot off, wondering where to aim, when his comm crackles to life.

“Stand down!” Tim snaps in his ear. “Hood, Wing, the alternates aren't currently a threat. Deescalate however you can, and get back to the warehouse. We can explain this whole mess there.”

“Really?” Nightwing asks. He goes on to say something else, something about his doppleganger being incredibly threatening, thank you very much, but Jason stops listening, because there's something going on across the roof.

A mechanically distorted voice says, “What? No, I'd be able to tell. This guy isn't-” The imposter(?) cuts off suddenly, presumably listening to a response.

And then he… giggles.

“That isn't funny, Red,” he says, in contrast to the little peals of laughter making him subtly shake. “You- you get how fucked up that would be, don't you?”

Jason can't figure out what to do. Tim's intel is almost always good, but he can't get himself to stand down, not when, for some reason, that laughter is setting his teeth on fucking edge.

(He knows the reason. He'd know that cadence anywhere, he hears it in his fucking nightmares, but it isnt possible. He's in Arkham, right now, because Batman won't kill him and Jason isn't allowed to kill him and that uncomfortable truce is what got him his family back. Jason would know if he'd broken out, they wouldn't have kept that from him. They wouldn't.)

“Oh shit,” Tim says, and it makes Jason wonder how he knows, “Hood, is your alternate having some kind of fit right now?”

The sound escalates, from breathy little giggles to screeching laughter, and even with the hood's distortion, it's unmistakable.

It's the Joker's laugh.

It's the Joker.

And isn't this exactly some shit that Joker would pull, making a mockery of Jason's family, a twisted parody that fucks with his head? Tim's lying, he's trying to get Jason out of this situation, and Jason gets why, he does, but obviously the rest of them can't (won't) protect him from this, so if he has to take fate into his own hands, he will.

The green is creeping up, but Jason doesn't let it haze over his vision because he has to be in his right mind while he does this, not for them, for himself. As he stalks across the roof, he empties the clip from one of his guns and pulls out the live rounds, loads them into place.

He thinks Tim is calling for him, maybe the others, too, but the chatter over the comm is getting further away the closer he gets to his target. He should be smart, should take the shot, but maybe he's got more pit in his head than he wants to admit, because Joker, still laughing, pulls a knife, and Jason steps into his range to disarm him.

The strike is fast, but compared to the careful movements of before, he's practically telegraphing his actions. Jason sidesteps, and if the blade knicks him when he twists Joker's arm, he doesn't feel it. He's got the clown in a hold, now, and forces him to his knees with the gun against his temple.

If the hood is anything like his own, the bullet won't do it, not even at point blank range. Jason would like to get it off him, would like to see the life leave his eyes, but he doesn't have to. Jason moves the barrel beneath his chin, right where the armor ends. The pit rages inside of him, says this is too easy, says to make him suffer. Jason pushes it down. This is the compromise he'll make, this is what he'll do to try to maintain both his humanity and his peace of mind. The bullet will ricochet off the hood from the inside, will tear through Joker's brain at least twice, and he'll never come back from that, and Jason will finally be free.

It'll be easy.

This is too easy.

“Nothing to fucking say?” Jason growls, jostling the clown in his grip, because there's always some joke, some shitty twist.

The Joker just laughs.

“Unhand him this instant!” someone snaps, and Jason's finger twitches but somehow the trigger stays still. And now what's he supposed to do, because of course fucking Nightwing- but wait, that isn't- but it is, he's right there- it's both of them, two Nightwings. Fucking fantastic. Twice the guilt trip.

“Come on, Jay,” the Nightwing who's actually Dick pleads, and hey, what the fuck, codenames? In front of the fucking Joker, Dick? “Let him go, we can explain everything.”

“I'm not doing this again!” rips itself from Jason's throat, and he'll think later about just how wrecked he sounds. “I'm not just standing here and letting him go, Wing, not when one bullet can put a stop to all this, not when I can end him.”

“Jason,” Dick says, slow with forced calm, “that's not the Joker.”

“Don't you fucking lie to me!” Jason seethes.

His hand is wrenched to the side, the barrel facing open air, and before he can make a move the unfortunately familiar feeling of a high voltage shock courses through him.

By the time he's stopped seizing, Dick is at his back, supporting him with his own body and with arms under his pits and around his chest in a weird reverse hug. Technically, Jason's hands are free, but they're empty, the gun skidded to somewhere else across the roof.

Dick is murmuring into his ear, “Sorry, Little Wing, I'm so sorry,” and, “You're okay, you're okay, you're okay,” mantras meant to soothe his brother as much as himself. Jason wants to be angry, wants to snap at him to let go and fucking cut it out, but he's feeling strangely disoriented. He only has enough brainspace to pay attention to one thing, and that's the scene playing out in front of him.

Dick had clearly hauled them back a few steps, but Jason is still uncomfortably close to the bastard version of Nightwing (who, Jason realizes in hindsight, had tazed him while he'd been distracted by his brother, not cool) and the laughing maniac he should've killed. Nightwing is holding onto Joker's shoulders, his hands bouncing as the gasping, shrieking laughter continues.

“I'm going to remove your helmet now,” Nightwing says. He has a slight accent that Jason knows he's heard before, and his tone is professional, almost clipped. And yet, somehow, Jason can tell that this is a gentled version of the man's voice, the sharpest edges sanded away. His hands move from Joker's shoulders to the back of his head, carefully inputting whatever sequence allows for safe removal of the hood. Jason hears a hydraulic hiss when some sort of catch releases, and as Nightwing starts pulling the red metal up and away Jason can't help holding his breath.

At first, he sees what he expected to see. It's the Joker's expression, after all, his laughing face pulled into a rictus grin.

But the grin isn't right, somehow. The man is pale, but his face is unpainted, and the smile stretches wide, too wide, wider than even the Joker ever managed, and after a moment Jason recognizes the red, raised scar tissue on either side of his mouth for what it is.

Then, Jason takes in the actual features of the person in front of him. Dark hair, pale blue eyes, the cheeks, the jaw, the nose.

It doesn't make any fucking sense.

The Red Hood, collapsed on his knees in front of him, scarred face bare with no hood or domino to protect him as he struggles under the weight of his own laughter, is Tim Drake.

He's crying.

Jason is suddenly glad that Dick's holding him, because he's certain that he'd be on the ground, otherwise. Then, he realizes that he can't breathe.

Jason knows, logically, that his hood has sensors and filters that keep him safer than he could ever be without it. It is only every once in a while, when something stupid happens, that he regrets that he, a man with claustrophobia, decided to stick his head into a metal bucket.

Dick can probably tell that he's hyperventilating, and doesn't fight him as Jason gets his hands on the back of his neck and pulls off his hood.

Jason gasps in polluted Gotham air, and Tim's eyes snap onto him. Nightwing says, “I'm administering the emergency dose of your medication,” and then stalls, like he's waiting for a response, but all Tim does is laugh and stare. Jason stares back. He can't look away.

Nightwing retrieves a small tubular device, almost like an epipen, and presses it against Tim's leg. That shouldn't work. Tim's wearing body armor, same as the rest of them, and there's no way a needle could pierce it, but Jason looks as Nightwing draws the device away and there's a small raised circle of hard plastic on Tim's thigh that the head of the device fits into perfectly, like it was designed for that purpose. An injection spot, built into Tim's clothing, specifically for whatever drugs fake Nightwing just pumped into him.

Immediately, there's a difference. He doesn't stop laughing, or smiling that horrible fucking smile, but the manic tension is gone. He doesn't look like he'll shatter at a touch anymore, too brittle to be handled. The curve of his spine gentles, muscles no longer pulling it to the point of snapping. Jason watches as slowly, oh so slowly, Tim gets quieter, leans more into Nightwing's hold on him, starts gasping more than laughing.

Dick is talking behind him, into his comm, it sounds like. If it's important, someone will get his attention.

Finally, Tim breaks eye contact. “T- tell him,” he says to Nightwing, struggling between gasps and giggles, “tell him what you, gave me. Jay doesn't, he doesn't like, needles.”

The strange Nightwing turns his head, and Jason gets the impression of a sharp, searching gaze behind his domino. He's nothing like Dick, not at all, but something niggles the back of Jason's mind, some sense of familiarity regardless. He tosses something, and Jason automatically reaches up to catch it.

It's the empty tube of medication, which does seem a lot like an epipen, up close. “It's a combination,” the man says. “The antidote for Joker venom, an antipsychotic, and a mild sedative.”

“What the fuck?” Jason hears from his own mouth as he looks down at the innocuous little tube.

“It's only used in emergencies,” Nightwing adds, and does not clarify any further.

Jason doesn't know what to say to that. He shakes himself out of Dick's hold and grabs an evidence bag out of his jacket. He watches Nightwing, to see if he'll object, but he doesn't. Jason slips the medicine tube inside the bag and tucks it away.

“There you are!” Dick says in a bright tone, one meant to cover his anxiety and relief.

Jason turns, and finds that their roof has gotten a little crowded. All four Robins have arrived, his brothers mingled in with their copies, copies who don't quite match in ways that are now sticking in his brain. Tim, Jason's Tim, is standing right there, pressing his mask against his face like he'd broken the seal on the adhesive, and it isn't sticking quite right. Other than that, he's normal. He's fine.

The Robin, the one in the classic colors who Jason had thought looked a bit like Dick (oh God, could that be-?) gives a little whistle. “Trust Red Hood to cause drama!” he says in a bright tone that is too too familiar (fuck, fuck he is). “Must be a universal constant.” He grins, cheeky, looking past Jason.

Jason isn't processing fast enough to be offended for his own sake, but he turns and checks on Tim, other Tim, the Tim who apparently also has a claim to the Red Hood name. Tim is propped up on Nightwing's shoulder, looking drowsy and relaxed. He's looking back at Robin, and his lips are pressed tightly closed, but he's smiling, and it reaches his eyes.

Alright, then. This is probably fine.

Jason snorts, to get the kid's attention, and rolls his eyes. “Comes with the job description,” he snarks.

The kid lights up. Jason feels distinctly weird, having that smile directed at him, but it's not… bad.

Yeah. This is fine.

-

I'm planning to add a reblog with more information on this au/fic idea, so if you're interested, watch this space.

[spookythesillyfella]

remember when i had that dream where you [Y/N] have a sleepover with tumblr sexyman tony and sketchbook where you guys just end up in a polyamorous relationship ??? well . i tried to find a fanfic that would even slightly line up with the description. even if it was only vaguely

but uhhh ....

there were none . so i had to do it myself

[frobby]

I think it would be really funny if rin was the more helpful one around his house. Like u would think rin would be the disrespectful one who always bails on housework or mass but its actually yukio who would always have an excuse not to go or forget about chores to the point that rin just does them instinctively now

[justaz]

s1ep13 merlin, believing he will be dead by morning, goes to say goodbye to arthur and he leans against the door of arthur’s chambers and watches the glow of the fire light his skin golden, full of color and life that it had been sorely lacking while the prince was injured. he stares at the softness of arthur’s features and pressed the line of his profile into memory for while he passes he will wish for nothing more than to see arthur one last time, his smile and blue eyes one last comfort before he passes on to the otherworld. arthur turns to stare at him and frowns at whatever expression merlin is making. the prince kicks a weak foot out at the chair next to him and motions for merlin to join him. merlin slowly shuffles over but ignores the chair completely. he stops in front of arthur who watches him with wary confusion. the tug of his lips and the furrow of his brow sickeningly endearing and merlin allows himself to be selfish and leans down to press his lips to arthur’s.

the prince is sat frozen under merlin’s touch but he can’t find himself to care much about that, not when he finally knows what it feels like to kiss arthur. he hopes that will be his last sensation before the ever consuming nothing, he hopes he will close his eyes one last time only to find arthur grinning at him and calling him an idiot before leading him into paradise where he can watch arthur smile, hear him laugh, and feel his touch for all eternity. he pulls away and leaves before arthur can gather himself to form a response, dropping the letter explaining everything on the table as he passes. so he allows himself to be selfish twice - to take from arthur and to give, to let himself know what is feels to kiss the man, to embrace his feelings for him, and to have the man know him for who he truly is. he wishes to pass peacefully with no regrets. somehow that revolves entirely around arthur.

only…he survives the whole ordeal and yeah has a gnarly scar on his chest but is otherwise fit to return to his duties. which include taking care of the prince. of arthur. who he kissed. and who most definitely know about his magic by now. yeesh.

[i-dont-actualy-like-oatmeal]

as a hoh (hard of hearing) person who specifically is deaf in one of their ears i'm begging atla writers to include zukos disability more in fics

not even as a angst think just THINK think of the shenanigans!!!!!! he can't do much out of one side of his face.

no directional hearing it gets so goofy bc you think you know (BUT YA DONT)

zuko must say what all of the time, brother does not hear shit!

HIM AND TOPH BONDING OVER THEIR DISABILITIES

THE GAANG LEARNING SIGN LANGUAGE FOR HIM!!!!!!!!!

ZUKO AS THE FIRE LORD BEING A HUGE ADVOCATE FOR ACCESSIBILITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHH

[concreteburialplot]

Anything Else?

Summary: Headcanons of Nicholas taking care of sick reader

A/N: I’m really fucking sick & i can’t stop thinking about it, so here we are.

Disclaimer: I’ve never really written headcanons in a structured way like this so idk sorry if they suck lol also i wrote so much who’s surprised

Other work masterlists: virality // intertwined 

- Nick can tell when you’re getting sick before you do - maybe it’s a little extra sniffle in the morning or an extra subtle rasp in your voice before you take your first sip of coffee - but he knows

- He pretends to believe you, in your firm stance that you’re fine, but secretly tries to locate any medicine that may be needed

- You don’t even need to speak the next day for him to know he was was right - just the way your shivering body clung on to his warm one the next morning was enough

- He silences all your alarms and screens all your calls so that you can rest.

- Even if he’s got errands to run, sketches to draw, or plans with the boys, he cancels all of them for you - he doesn’t let you know that though

- The only time he does leave your side is to pick some mystery supplies & more medicine

- He stumbles through the door carrying a million grocery bags & quickly but clumsily kicks the front door closed to make sure the cats don’t escape

- He feels guilty for taking so long but the depleted half smile on your face when he brings you some gifts eases his worry

- He hands you a stuffie he found at the store that looks like one of your cats, your favorite flavor gatorade, and of course a giant bottle of water

- “Now I gotta go do something in the kitchen, but can I get you anything else first?” He insists

- He goes into the kitchen just to turn right back around to you

- “I forgot! I got this little bell at the store, if you need anything, just ring it okay?”

- You shake your head & cough, “You’re ridiculous.”

- He places a kiss on your burning hot forehead, “The only thing ridiculous around here is how you haven’t taken your meds yet.” And waves a strict finger at you

- You don’t realize that you dozed off until you sense each of your cats nuzzling into your sides then cooing when Nick enters with a breakfast-in-bed tray & a giant bowl of soup

- “It’s a family recipe, I grew up eating it when I got sick.” He shifts back & forth on his heels like he’s anxious. “I’ve never made it for anyone before … and I didn’t let it boil long enough, so if it’s not good I’m so-“

- You shush him and thank him with a big smile

- The soup is warm, savory and comforting - exactly what you needed. Even in your sickly state, you give him a little food-happy dance with a closed-eyed smile

- He beams at your response and you can tell how much he loves feeling needed

- “Anything else I can get you my love, before I go clean up?”

- You tell him you’d love not to eat alone, so that he brings a bowl of soup for himself and you spend the rest of the night watching your comfort show with your boyfriend and your cats 💕

[theonekrafter]

Hey! I just recently found your Magneto fic and I am absolutely obsessed. Any updates coming in the future?

i’m super glad you enjoyed magneto! this ask has gotten me to finally put a discontinued in the description of magneto. it’s not at ALL because of you in particular, but i’ve realized by putting off adding it to the description i’ll keep giving people false hope. forgive me if i use this ask for a tediously long post describing why exactly i will never update magneto, so i can link it easily for anyone with similar questions in the future. 😭

so. short answer? no. magneto will probably never be updated. i’m really sorry for that. my interests have changed since graduating high school and i don’t really want to write bnha anymore.

long answer?

i started writing magneto pre-pandemic during my junior year of high school. i had seen there was only about a 100 self inserts for bnha at the time and thought “well, if i post something it’ll probably get a lot of attention, since the fandom is growing in popularity a lot and there’s a scarcity here!” 2019 was an interesting year for fanfic in bnha, since it didn't have enough content for the growing eyes looking for it.

i ended up being very correct. too correct. i actively updated magneto over the course of half a year, roughly, and in that time it rapidly climbed in attention. since 2020 ive only updated it about twice(?) and that hasn’t deterred the new readers it’s gotten. i get comments every other day asking about updates.

magneto is currently the most kudo-ed bnha si-oc on the entirety of ao3. which is fucking insane. i don’t think it deserves it, but popularity is rarely about deserving. usually it’s about being just good enough, just novel enough, and being posted at the right time.

but i digress: it doesn’t feel possible for me to update magneto for a variety of reasons.

1) my disinterest in the setting would make any future update disingenuous.

i haven’t been actively into the bnha fandom in about four years now. i don’t really read bnha fic aside from the very occasional si-oc, nor have i kept up with the manga or anime. the only fic i’ve ever written for the fandom is magneto, and it’ll probably always be my only fic for the fandom. (watch me say that and be wrong in the next few years LMAO)

it would be really rude of me to stomp into a space i don’t even like anymore and post something lackluster and lacking in passion. especially with the express intention of gaining more engagement from readers. like it or not, magneto IS the most popular si for bnha, and i think i drive attention away from better books by updating and inadvertently preserving that position in the ranking.

I can't believe no one has written any "self-insert as Bakugou" fanfics yet what a bunch of cowards by the_incidental_author and i have jostled back and forth for that #1 kudo-ed spot for the past five years. which i admit has been fun, but i would very much like for them to overtake me. it’s clear (to me, at least) that they actually enjoy writing bnha more than me and update more often to boot.

i fully welcome ANY fic to take magneto's position at this point, if only so that less people comment how poorly written it is. which leads me into my next point.

2) my writing style has SIGNIFICANTLY changed over the past five years.

when i do my yearly reread of magneto i actively cringe and have to resist the urge to rewrite every chapter in a separate google doc. in any hypothetical world where i do add to magneto, i do a complete rewrite. in no particular order, the things i would change are:

kenzo being defined by three character traits and nothing else. her exhaustion, her mild spite for her father, and her aimless wandering through the plot

better grammar. dear god the grammar errors. dear god the SPELLING ERRORS

the pov characters being more developed and feeling more like Individual People with their own personal motivations and histories that are not defined by what the plot needs from them (cough, reacting to how cool kenzo is)

not just recapping each anime episode and stating what kenzo would do in that situation

placing greater focus on the way quirk society discriminates against those with undesirable quirks and backgrounds. what does it really mean to be the child of a criminal in a world where people assume that sort of thing is hereditary?

kenzo's classmates should've been more classist in general, especially in relation to quirk discrimination. UA is a school only the most wealthy and powerful get into, there's no way there wouldn't be social disconnects that create tension between a dead eyed daughter of a villain and more than a few nepo babies.

if you have any interest in naruto, skyrim, asoiaf or dragon age you've probably read my more recent fics. fluffy clouds and a tinge of wonder, the fic i have updated the most this year, is a really good example of how significantly my writing has evolved since starting magneto in 2019. my technical skill and style have changed enough that it just would be tonally jarring for me to update magneto without outright rewriting everything.

like. im being so fr with you right now, i didn't learn how to start outlining until about a YEAR AGO. magneto was written on a chapter by chapter basis with little idea of where exactly it was going. i implied that there would be a future confrontation between kenzo and her father, but i didn't have any idea of HOW that would occur or even what the consequences of it would be.

adding to magneto as it is would be like trying to add a sleeve to a shirt that's missing it's entire back panel and most of it's front. i'd be playing catch up with the plot and end up having to rewrite previous chapters anyways.

3) bnha commentors have been kind of really mean to me compared to other fandoms i've written for LMAO

ok. please don't draw and quarter me for this. MOST commentors have been extremely complimentary, and kind. besides the occasional bomb of like seven comments in my inbox of ten hearts from one user (which, sweet, but please don't do that) the bnha fandom has been totally fine.

but a very small minority have been really pushy about making me update a fic i have clearly not touched in two years, and realistically haven't actively updated in four. from comments just saying "wow this is great. update soon." to DETAILED reviews of how bad my fic is and how they can't believe how garbage like magneto is so popular.

which like. i don't feel personally attacked by? i fully agree that magneto is bad for the previously stated reasons. i wouldn't read magneto if i were a casual reader and hadn't written it. usually the second kind of comment really annoys me because of it's presumption of importance and for how soul crushing it would have been for sixteen-year-old me to read.

bnha as a fandom, especially in recent years, has felt more and more like they treat fic like something that is created in a vacuum. souless content that exists for readers to consume. the comments don't go to an inbox, they go to a void, so really it doesn't matter if i say something really belligerent to an author i don't know about a Self Insert Fanfic They Wrote In Between Rehearsals For Their High School Play.

but whatever. if it had just been me experiencing that i would've written it off as like just my fic, but a close friend and frequent cowriter of mine Reavv has dealt with this a lot more than me.

they wrote It's a like a time travel comedy, without the comedy, another very popular bnha fic, and had to private it because people were going to their other UNRELATED fics and badgering them to update it. people still go into their comments insisting they unprivate it, oblivious to the fact that every time they ask it adds another year to reavv's internal timer for when they will.

a combination of my own experiences and reavv's have completely put me off of writing bnha i'll be fr. even if i was still in the fandom, the majority of my fics will always be about fucking dragon age and skyrim. i do not want random bnha fans coming into my dragon age fics and, AFTER NOT READING THE FIC, saying that since im active i should clearly update my bnha fics. that's a nightmare scenario for me.

in conclusion

i am so glad that people like magneto, i'm glad that i wrote magneto. the initial jump in readers i got from magneto gave me the confidence to write other fics, and the alternating pov format is a staple of most of my writing now. some of the comments i got for that magneto when i was a teenager were the only things that kept my ass going.

but magneto is never being updated. i don't even think it's gonna be rewritten. i really am sorry about that, but it is what it is. thank you for reading it, thank you for loving it, thank you for feeling ambivalent about it. good talk.

btw to the original asker, again. this is NOT a rant directed at you, you just inspired some Thoughts in me and i had to let them loose.

[escespace]

Comment (possible spoilers though I don't really think there is one):

This was the real ride!

There were more ups and downs at some point the story took a nosedive and I was left not knowing if we were up or down.

The humor hit the spot. I was smiling throughout both because of the beauty of some moments, the care and support everyone showed in creating that network of care. And for the ridiculous situations too! I mean such chaos (maybe not so cute) would perfectly happen in the series. This whole series of events almost fell into the category of Murphy's law and isn't that the secret of comedy?

The way Merlin managed to get his vacation is the icing on the cake, I don't know how he didn't do it before but it would definitely work in all universes. 

I love that you can see not only everything Merlin does for Arthur but for everyone, that is the kind of heart that I attributed to him, he is not perfect but what does it matter, he deserves recognition even for achieving get out of bed

Now... Arthur went through so much. My goddess! Such heartbreaking moments of vulnerability, I didn't think I would feel so empathy reading it but you described the process so meticulously. And you don't even need to be crude, there is a subtlety between the contradictions Arthur's head made and the clues he threw at himself. He was definitely on the edge, he wanted to jump, He wanted to finally have the freedom (from himself and his imposed beliefs) to love whoever he wanted. And it is reflected even when it does not explicitly say that.

Gwen, Gaius, Morgana, The Knights and especially the castle staff oh my goddess! How wonderful that you gave them time in front of the spotlight. And not only a secondary time but it was the time for each one to develop his mini story or vision.

It was so important that moment when Morgana could finally be herself in front of her closest friend, Mentor and people who saw her grow up. Because there are so many emotions involved in that one little piece

And Gwaine talking about his own feelings not only contributed to Arthur's development, but it gives more dimension to Gwaine's character and to the story itself because it adds another principle To the love they try to gather (Merthur) and it is about loving by letting go

Gwen of course in her own love of letting go and the counterpart of still wanting to contribute to the development of Camelot for a better future because canonically her first love is the people of Camelot 

And many others. Really, the inclusion of the staff not only shows a side of Arthur that I would have liked to see in the series but it gives depth to life in Camelot because it does not end with Merlin y Arthur, But there are many lives that depend on them and on which they depend. A symbiotic relationship like a good kingdom should be

I applaud how beautiful and comfortable this story is, really suitable for my day, and I also applaud how well done it is.

Chapters: 18/18 Fandom: Merlin (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Leon (Merlin), Percival (Merlin), Elyan (Merlin), Gwaine (Merlin), Morgana (Merlin), Gaius (Merlin), George (Merlin), Original Characters Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Codependency, Arthur Pendragon is Bad at Feelings (Merlin), Idiots in Love, Repression, Denial of Feelings, Feelings Realization, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Pining Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Getting Together, Bad Parent Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Touch-Starved, Arthur Pendragon Needs a Hug (Merlin), or a hundred, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Matchmaking, Everyone Loves Merlin (Merlin), Everyone Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), making up the Medieval Europe legislation process as I go, and hoping nobody will fact check me, Good Morgana (Merlin), morgana is not evil, the only things I know about BBC Merlin are through fanfiction, I have never seen the show, canon material is only approved if it fits my story, otherwise it didn't happen, Camelot would burn without Merlin to keep it running, Secrets, Revelations, Coming Out, Inspired by Tumblr, bitsandbobsofwriting Summary:

For want of a nail, the shoe was lost. For want of a shoe, the horse was lost. For want of a horse, the rider was lost. For want of a rider, the message was lost. For want of a message, the battle was lost. For want of a battle, the kingdom was lost. And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

 Merlin manages to wrangle a visit back to Ealdor out of Arthur by telling Arthur that he will be unable to run his kingdom on his own. After Merlin leaves on his vacation, Camelot slowly but surely falls apart to Arthur’s horror and chagrin and he realizes just how much he has come to rely on Merlin’s help.

[potatobugz]

here's a few things I drew 2day. no I am definitely not starting a nother project what makes you say that

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

So, this is something I’ve been thinking about lately, and I figured I would make a poll to see if any of y’all have experienced this before.

I just ask since I’ve had both books and fics I’ve really enjoyed take a sudden twist that pretty much spit on everything that happened before and it ruined my love of the book/fic. I was wondering if this was universal or not.

Reblog for reach please. :-) And feel free to put explanations in the tags!

[so-long-soldier-writes]

His for Eternity

kai parker x reader | requested 

summary: alaric steals a gemini grimoire, summoning you and kai back to mystic falls. trying to get it back proves to be a challenge with a risk kai’s not willing to take. | heretic!kai x witch!reader

tags: hurt / comfort, smut, violence / blood, blood drinking, kidnapping / minor torture, eventual smut, blowjobs, vaginal sex, dom!kai but also soft!kai

word count: ~8.2k (lmao whoops)

a/n: I’m not sure if this is yandere enough, bc come to find I struggle with writing yandere for some reason. also, i am so sorry it took me forever to write & edit. but it was very fun to write :) i hope this finds the person who requested it, and i hope you like it!

“I don’t like being back here,” you mutter to your boyfriend, whilst stealing a fry off his plate. “We’re supposed to be on the run from these people, not strolling back into their town.”

“I know, but I just need that book back, and then we’ll be out before they even know we were here,” he whispers. 

You glance around the room, unconvinced. 

“I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you, princess.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. You’re the one that Damon wants dead.”

“Let him try. In case he forgot, I’m a heretic now.”

“Trust me when I said he’s probably thought of a way around that,” you sigh. “Kai, is it really that important? I can’t live without you.”

“It’s not that it’s important, but it’s the fact that Alaric is the one that stole it. The only reasons he would go all the way to Portland just to steal one of my father’s grimoires is if he’s trying to bring Jo back, or if those twins survived somehow. I can’t have him stealing centuries worth of Gemini knowledge that could possibly take me down.”

You hate it, but know he’s right. Kai is the leader of a nearly extinct coven, but he is still the leader. If Alaric has access to any of the grimoires, he could do some serious damage. 

“Okay. I understand. What do you need me to do?”

He pops a fry into his mouth. “Sit tight and let me do all the dangerous stuff.”

“Kai.”

His teeth clench. He hates putting you in harm’s way. 

“Fine. If you could do a locator’s spell on the book. That would help.”

“Okay,” you give a small smile, “let’s go find this missing grimoire, shall we?”

Cloaked under a simple spell, the two of you make your way back to the motel just outside of town where you planned to stay for the duration of this trip. Kai hated the idea of staying in a motel, but you knew it would be the least conspicuous place to be in case anyone caught wind of your return.

Ever since the night of the wedding - aka the night of Jo’s death, aka the night Kai turned, aka the night Elena was cursed - the two of you have been on the run. It was a horrible day for you, having to watch the sister of the man you loved get married, while he was rotting away in another prison world. But then, right before her vows, he came back. In the blink of an eye, the wedding was turned upside down. Gentle cries turned to begs for mercy, but of course, none received it. They didn’t deserve it. You smiled as the members of the Gemini Coven died off one-by-one. You remember spitting in Joshua’s face when he pleaded for his life. 

Right after, you watched your boyfriend drink his father’s own blood to become immortal. You kissed him hard, then, and felt the blood of his enemies seep from his suit to your dress, seemingly binding you for eternity. The last thing Joshua saw were his two greatest regrets coming back together as one. There was nothing he could do to stop you. 

But despite Kai’s success in killing his coven, he almost died in the process. Well, almost died twice. He did die on purpose once to turn himself into a heretic - a species you didn’t know existed until Kai came back to life, craving blood. (When he initially stabbed himself, you let out a blood curdling scream that turned heads towards you. You had never felt more relieved than when he woke up, and he apologized profusely for scaring you.) Though after Damon learned of his payback curse on Elena, the older vampire almost took him out for good. A blood boiling spell muttered from your lips gave Kai just enough time to escape the man, and the two of you bolted from the massive crime scene. 

Since then, you and Kai have been exploring together. Damon nor Bonnie ever came after you, and they instead stayed in Mystic Falls, for reasons you don’t know, nor care to know. Alaric, on the other hand, is the one stirring the pot. And now, his actions have consequences, because Kai is back and determined to take what rightfully belongs to him. 

“Got a location.”

Your boyfriend finally stops pacing the room to look at the map. “I’m going.”

“Wait, Kai! Shouldn’t we, like, have a plan or something?”

“I do. Break in, take it, sneak out. He’ll never know.”

“Unless he’s there, wherever this is, right now.”

Kai hesitates. 

“Let me be a distraction.”

“No.”

“Let me cause a distraction.”

He stares at you. 

“What other options are there? None. I’ll just juju up something outside of the location and he’ll wonder what it is, giving you a little bit of time. He won’t even see me, just a cloud of dust.”

“Can you do that from here?”

“Well no, I have to be somewhat in the proximity.”

“Then no.”

“You’re not doing this without me. I’ll cloak myself.”

“And if you get distracted, you’ll be out in the open for anyone to see.”

“I won’t get distracted.”

“Princess,” he gives you a look that already tells you you’re not winning this argument, “you’re staying.”

“Then you better come back. Unharmed.”

“I promise. Just a quick in and out.”

“Be back in an hour or I will come looking for you.”

“Two.”

“No.”

“Fine. One hour. Don’t leave this room.”

“Be safe, Kai.”

◇◇◇◇

In one hour, he does come back. But not as he promised. 

Kai takes a deep breath before unlocking the motel door. He knows you’ll immediately sense something went wrong, even though the gash on his forehead has healed. Besides, he didn’t even get the stupid grimoire. 

“It’s me, princess,” he announces as he opens the door. 

You hurry over to him quickly. “Did everything go alright? Did you get the book?” You pause, noticing the signs: sweat beading on his forehead, a racing pulse. “Kai, what happened?”

“I didn’t get the book.”

“What. Happened?”

“The book is in Ric’s house,” he says slowly. “Unfortunately, so was Ric.” You sigh, full of worry, but he’s not finished. “And so was Damon.”

“You ran into Damon?!”

“And Bonnie.”

“Kai! Baby, you told me you wouldn’t get hurt! This shouldn’t’ve happened! Now they’re gonna come for you, angrier than ever. We should’ve never come back; we should’ve just-”

“I know, I know. Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for putting you in harm’s way, I’m sorry for-”

“Never mind that, are you hurt? Did they get to you, or just…?”

He hesitated for too long and you know that’s a yes.

“Where?”

“Damon plus a lamp, which he threw at my head. Then Bonnie held me down with magic when I was down and he decided his fist was a better weapon. Luckily something distracted us all long enough for me to escape.”

You take his head in your hands gently, kissing the spot where he got hit. It’s completely healed, yet you can tell exactly where it happened. 

“But as shitty as this is, I did learn something useful.”

“What?”

“The twins survived.”

“What?! Jo’s? How?”

“I have no idea, but in the midst of my screaming and their yelling, I heard a baby cry.”

“So what now? Are you gonna…”

“I don’t know. But something tells me Ric stole that book because those kids are producing magic that he doesn’t know how to control.” Kai then laughs, “you should’ve seen the look on their faces when that happened. I swear the blood drained from Ric’s face, it was priceless!” 

You try to laugh, but you’re too worried about the situation. Kai senses this and gives you a kiss on your cheek. 

“I’m okay, princess. It’s going to be okay. I should’ve listened to you about the plan.” 

“Just… can we stay here for the rest of the night?”

The clock reads seven. 

“I-,” he looks at your face, and knows he can’t say ‘no’ to it. Besides, he gave you a hell of a scare earlier and you deserve the comfort. “Alright.” His heart flutters when a huge smile takes over your face. You make grabby hands towards him, coaxing him to come next to you on the bed. 

“Thank you,” you mutter, successfully getting him to cuddle with you. You bury your face in his chest, arms wrapped around his waist, and a leg hooked with one of his. He couldn’t escape your grasp even if he wanted to. 

“I love you, princess.” He melts into your hold, eyes fluttering with exhaustion. 

“I love you, too.”

◇◇◇◇

“So Kai is back,” Damon slouches onto the couch, sighing deeply. 

“And back with a vengeance,” Ric sits opposite of him.

“Yeah, and he found out about the twins.”

“I know… there was nothing I could do, Bonnie. I’m cursing myself by the minute.”

“Do you think his girlfriend is here, too?”

“Definitely. He probably made her stay wherever they’re hiding out.”

“Unless she ditched him like a smart person would.”

“You didn’t see them at the wedding, Bon,” Damon, who witnessed the whole thing, sighs, “she would do anything for him.”

“What do you think made him come back?”

“That might be my fault,” Ric admits, raising a hand. 

“What did you do?”

“I may have gone to Portland and stolen a grimoire.”

“You did what?!” The witch stares at him. 

“I’m raising two Gemini twins without any living, sane, relatives, and I have no idea what I’m doing! I want to be prepared for when they start producing magic.”

“So you stole a grimoire from one of the most powerful covens in history?!”

“They’re all dead! What are they gonna do with them?!”

“Dead or not, Kai is still their leader. He can sense when a grimoire leaves its resting place. You put your daughters and all of us in danger.”

“I didn’t know that! Maybe if my Gemini born wife was still alive, I would. Oh wait, Kai killed her!”

“Alright, enough of the yelling,” Damon shushes, “we’ve already woken up Ric’s kids with it once.” He smirks in a way that’s playful, yet everyone knows it’s a jab.

“Man, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I will-”

“Where did you put the grimoire, Alaric? Maybe if we give it back, he will leave.”

“No! I’m using it. Kai doesn’t need it, he’s not raising kids. I-”

“It’s his family’s property.”

“And he hated his family.”

“But it’s still a powerful book that can be used as a weapon. So hatred aside, he will fight to get it back.”

“I-”

“If you don’t return it, you’re putting yourself, your daughters, Caroline’s, ours, the whole of Mystic Falls' lives in danger. He will kill anyone to stay in power, was the wedding not enough proof of that?! If you have a book that teaches you to raise Geminis, they will live long enough to see their twenty-second birthdays, and take his place. If you want your kids to survive, give that grimoire back right now and figure it out yourself.”

“Bonnie, I can’t have two magical kids running around the town untaught.”

“You’re making a huge mistake.”

“Hold on,” Damon interrupts again, “I have a plan. What if we just kill Kai?”

“He’s a heretic now. He can’t be killed.”

“Please, we said the same thing about the originals. There’s always something that’ll kill ‘em. Kai’s a normal vampire, just stake him in the heart. Done.”

“He’s a heretic, Damon,” Bonnie reiterates, “he’s got the advantage of magic.”

“Then we’ll kill Y/N.”

“She’s immortal. And a witch.”

“Something’s got to kill her.”

“Not something that we know of.”

“Then we’ll hurt her. Scare Kai out of Mystic Falls. She will only be freed once he promises to leave.”

“That sounds like playing with fire, Damon.”

“And yet, it’s our best plan.” He looks at Ric, then Bonnie. 

“Whatever, I’m in. Bonnie?”

The witch thinks about it. She doesn’t like the idea of hurting a female witch - she should be trying to make an ally out of you. 

“C’mon, Bonnie,” Damon urges, “he cursed Elena. Killed Jo. She stood by and let it all this happen. She’s just as guilty. Deserves every bit of this.”

“Okay. I’m in.”

◇◇◇◇

“‘Kay, we need a new plan for getting that grimoire back,” you say, grabbing a pen and a piece of paper.  Kai watches you from the edge of the bed in admiration.  “And since people know we’re here, it has to be good.”

“I’m still against any plan that could put you in harm’s way.”

“I know. Which is why I can cloak myself and draw out Ric, while you sneak back into his house. Similar to my first plan, but this one also involves a second distraction. Happening in the square, I’m going to spell up something gnarly that will for sure keep Bamon’s attention long enough for you to get in and get out.”

“Bamon?”

“It’s so much easier than saying ‘Bonnie and Damon’.”

He grins. “And you’ll be sure they won’t see you?”

“As long as everything goes according to plan, yes.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“I’ll bring a vervain grenade and toss it at them?” You suggest. 

“Not good enough, Y/N.”

“I’ll think of something. I promise.”

He sighs unhappily. “I’ll be fast.”

“I know you will.”

Unfortunately, the trio think of something, too. Unbeknownst to you, Bonnie’s done a locator spell, and is tracking your exact location. You successfully set up your traps before she finished it, but they know you’re in the town’s square. Kai is cloaked, so they don’t see him, and Bonnie can’t track two people at once, but they have a sneaking suspicion about where he is. They must act fast if they are to exact their revenge. 

Despite it still being the earlier hours of the morning, there’s a number of people in the square. Runners, mostly, and a few couples sipping coffee. Big enough of a crowd to cause a panic if something were to scare them. You mutter a fire spell onto the fountain, taking extra energy to put the two opposing elements into combat. People start to gasp and stare as the fire engulfs it, yet the water doesn’t give. In a matter of seconds, a child’s scream sets off the rest of her company. 

Once it causes a big enough scene, you duck from your hidden position and make off to Ric’s house. Even if Damon doesn’t care about the townspeople, some riled up screams will have him at least checking out what happened. And then Bonnie will get involved, probably talking about the situation with Caroline, so you expect to have at least a minute to distract Ric. 

Your plan for Ric is to conjure up a faceless shadow-y figure. You make it move and wave at him with your own body, cloaked from sight. Whether or not he thinks it’s a threat, he’ll at least be confused enough to take a closer look.

As soon as he sees it, he rushes towards it, shouting for it to stay away from his kids. Not the reaction you really expected, but one you’ll gladly take. You stand still, but step back when he starts getting close. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Kai sneak into his house behind him. 

But then everything goes wrong. 

The next time you step back, you bump into something large. You furrow your eyebrows and try again, a little to the left, but the wall is still there. You didn’t think you had moved that far; you were standing in the middle of the street. Alaric comes closer to you - too close - and you have to breathe deeply to not panic. Then, you feel magic fighting against your own. Distracted by Ric, you feel yourself weakened against your will. Ric’s grimace turns to a smirk when he realizes it’s just you behind the shadow. As fast as you can, you try to conjure up something new, but then a pair of hands grab your shoulders. 

“Yeah, no more of that. Good try though.” Damon. Dammit. “Where’s Kai?”

You say nothing. 

“Let’s try that again. Where is Kai?”

You stand as still as a statue, giving nothing, saying nothing. 

“Alright, we’ll find him ourselves. Bonnie?”

Immediately, the witch binds your wrists with a spell. You could have fought her off, but you were taken off guard. Ric then throws a bag over your head, before Damon slings you over his shoulder and races off. 

The sound of the back door slamming alerts Ric and Bonnie, and then dash into his house without a second thought. Ric nearly trips up the stairs to check on his kids, while Bonnie searches for where Ric said he hid the Gemini grimoire. One sighs in relief while the other is filled with dread. 

“The girls are okay,” says the relieved one. 

“The book is gone,” she says at the same time. 

For a second, they just stand there, evaluating how bad their mistake was to let Kai get a hold of the book again. As much as Bonnie just wanted to give it back, now he’s going to want revenge on Ric for taking it in the first place. And as soon as he realizes they’ve kidnapped his girl, too, she can tell things are only going to get uglier. 

“Okay, well, the important thing is that the girls are safe.”

Ric nods, “god, but what if he saw them? What if they saw him?”

“I don’t know, but he didn’t hurt them, so that’s all that matters.”

“I need that book back. I need to know how to raise them as Jo would’ve wanted me to. As her coven would’ve.”

“You mean raising them to kill each other in twenty years?”

“Not that,” Ric grimaces, “but training them to control their magic.”

Bonnie understands, but she also knows if Ric had that book any longer, the twins would not have survived today’s encounter with Kai. She decides not to say this, though, and focuses on the new bigger issue. “We need to find Damon. Kai will be after him soon.”

◇◇◇◇

Kai reaches the tree lining where you said you’d be. When you’re not there, he panics immediately. He rushes around the area, calls for you, but has no luck. Something went wrong, like he knew it would. Someone hurt you. Or worse, someone is currently hurting you. Anxiety bubbles in his stomach, threatening to make him sick. He curses, hitting himself repeatedly, and as hard as he can.

Suddenly, he feels your soft hand on his face, stroking his cheek. Shhh, you whisper, you’re okay.

He looks up, but you’re not there. Anger turns to sadness. Tears form in the corners of his eyes, spilling quickly. Even in your absence, you’re there for him. You never let him hurt himself. 

But now someone’s hurting you. And he’s going to make them pay. 

◇◇◇◇

It’s like a flip switches in his brain. You’ve softened him, made him vulnerable to emotions, unafraid to let himself feel. But the minute you’re gone - worse, in danger - the flip turns on and he recognizes his old behavior is out to play. What kept him alive; what sacrificed his sanity for survival. 

He wastes no time getting back to the hotel to do a locator’s spell. Sure, your kidnapper (Damon, probably) has you cloaked somehow, but his coven had ways around tricks like that. In fact, when he was trapped in 1994, he was there with all of the coven’s old grimoires, and could finally read them. You would let him siphon and help him practice the magic he was never taught. Then, in 2013, when the two of you were running from Mystic Falls, you stopped at his old house. All the grimoires you couldn’t access before, Kai now could as the leader. You did the same as you did in the prison world, now learning even more powerful spells. (The two of you would joke that Joshua Parker was yelling up at you from hell whenever you’d let him siphon. The whole reason he sent you to Kai’s prison world when you showed sympathy for the boy is so that he’d hunt you down for your magic and siphon you to death, over and over. Never did he expect the two of you to fall in love and become more powerful than he could ever imagine.)

The memory makes him smile, but also fuels his rage. He needs to find you. Kai spills a small vial of your blood to track you. You both have one of each others’ in case of emergency. A revelation spell and a locator spell at the same time is tough magic, but he is more than capable. It takes longer than he’d like; the revelation spell eats away at the captor’s magic so that a location can be found. If the captor senses their spell weakening, they can fight it. Kai can sense Bonnie’s attempts, but she is no match for an angry, sociopathic, powerful, coven leader who’s looking for the only person he’s ever loved. His eyes darken when the blood moves across the paper, signaling the spot where you’re being kept. He tucks a knife into his boot strap, just in case, before heading out with a vengeance. 

“Kai broke the cloaking spell. I don’t know how, but he’ll be here soon, I’m guessing.”

“How on earth could he have done that?” Damon throws his hands up, “I’ve barely gotten to do anything with her.”

“His magic is strong. He must know a spell that I don’t.”

“Coven spell, no doubt. If only you were part of the less useful coven, we’d be in the clear.”

“Let’s not ruin our half-working team-up with your bitchy comments. And don’t forget who’s saved your ass more times than you could probably count,” Bonnie snarks back. 

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry. Now, can we go back to torturing Y/N for all the shit she let happen to Elena? If Kai’s getting here soon, I need to get in a couple more punches.”

“Fine. I’ll be down in a second.”

Damon retreats to the dungeons immediately, while Bonnie texts Ric to make sure he’s at home. Last thing they need is for Kai to have a second chance at those twins because their father is feeling bloodthirsty. When he responds, she goes down to give you her own two cents. 

◇◇◇◇

It’s not long after that Kai reaches the Salvatore Boarding House. His stomach churns at the sight of it. He tests the entryway, but walks in with no give, letting him explore the seemingly uninhabited house. That, or they’re hiding somewhere. If the Salvatore house has a secret basement, Kai’s about to find out. He treads lightly, not wanting to let anyone know he’s there, and listening for anything that might be you. It’s eerie. There’s no screaming, no yelling, and no fighting. Almost like you’re gone. Like they found a way to… no, he can’t think like that. You’re alive. You’re just saving your strength. You’re immortal; they can’t kill you. Kai repeats this over and over in his head. Then, when he listens harder, he finally picks something up. The faintest rustling of chains far below catch his ear. He stiffens, then races around the top floor to find the basement door. 

At the sound of a vampire up ahead, Damon goes to confront it. His jaw tenses when he’s faced with Kai once more. 

“You,” he spits. 

“That all you can come up with, Damon? I thought in two years, you’d be able to come up with something better.”

“You’re not the one doing the talking here, I am.”

“Great. Good for you. Where’s Y/N?”

The man only smirks. 

“If you hurt her, I swear I’ll fucking kill you.”

“What’s this? Kai Parker showing affection? Nah. You said it yourself - you’re not capable of feeling those emotions.” Before Kai can answer, he continues. “Me, on the other hand, I am. And you’ve put my girlfriend in a coma and I can’t see her. So you’ll never see Y/N again if you don’t-”

“What? Bring her back? I already told you I can’t.”

“Leave.”

“What?”

“Leave town if you ever want to see her again. I never, ever want you in Mystic Falls again.”

“I’m not going anywhere without her.”

“Fine. Leave, and in two days’ time, I’ll drop her off outside the town border. You can come get her there and fuck off to wherever you want.”

“You’ve got to be crazy if you think I’d leave her with you. Where is she?”

“Somewhere safe.”

“Yeah, I doubt that.”

A new voice enters the room, “just promise you’ll leave, Kai. We’ll give her to you now if you promise you’ll never come back.”

“You guys act like I even want to be here. I don’t. We only came back because Alaric stole my family’s property. If your idiot friend had a couple more brain cells, none of this wouldn’t’ve happened.”

“Like I’m supposed to believe that. You were just bored,” Damon strikes back. 

“Actually, I was enjoying my time away from you people. And I didn’t want Y/N anywhere near you guys, either. But she wouldn’t let me come back alone, and I needed that book.” Kai shrugs. “Well, I’ve got the book. Give me my girl, and I will never bother you again.”

“Y’know what’s funny?”

Kai sighs with a roll of the eyes, not wanting to know, but knowing Damon will tell him anyway. 

“I want my girl, too. Yet you’ve put her in a magical coma.”

“Just my revenge for you crossing me. Which, by the way, I thought would be enough of a lesson for you to not do it again, Clearly, I’ve been mistaken.” He cocks his head. “Does BonBon here need a magical nap, too? Or maybe one of those twins that seem to have survived?”

“Do not touch those girls!” Bonnie snaps, taking a step forward. 

“Ooh, I’ve hit a nerve! Yeah, um, that could totally happen. Or I could just kill them. Children are weak. They can barely defend themselves. Trust me, I would know.” The woman is fuming, which is only encouraging Kai. “Especially now that I’m a heretic. They wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Alright, enough! Just get out.”

“I’ll be on my way shortly. Point me to your secret dungeon, will you?”

With the twins’ lives on the line, Damon knows he shouldn’t push Kai any further. Ric would never forgive him if something happened to them. Which is saying something, because Ric has forgiven Damon repeatedly for his shitty actions. However, that doesn’t mean Damon can’t taunt Kai about the shit he’s put you through in the span of just a couple hours. 

“I’ll bring you to her, but I understand if you’d want to leave her behind. She isn’t very pretty anymore.”

The threat has Kai’s heart racing. His comedic chat with the pair is officially over, and he’s now dead set on getting you out of wherever he’s keeping you. He’s down the stairs and yelling for you as soon as Damon opens the basement door. “Y/N? Are you down here?”

Another small rattle of chains is heard in the darkness. He flips on a light, and finally sees you at the end of the hallway. 

“Oh my god.” He races towards you, choking back a sob at your mangled state. Your hands, bound in chains above your head. Your exposed neck, bleeding from a bite wound, with blood seeping down your shirt. Your hair is matted and eyes are heavy. It takes you a second to recognize him. 

At first, you flinch, thinking the person beside you is your captor. “Don’t,” you mutter. 

Kai’s heart shatters. “It’s me, princess.”

Instantly, your demeanor changes. Your head lifts so you can look him in the eyes. “Kai?”

He puts his hands on your face. “Yes, baby, I’m here. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He leans in to give you a quick kiss, but then pulls away to break the chains holding you still.

You reach for him the minute your hands are free, and immediately begin to sob. “You found me,” you repeat over and over, “how did you find me?”

“Couple spells. I’m sorry they took so long. Fuck, here, sit up.” 

As soon as you do, he bites his wrist and feeds you his blood. You drink willingly and feel yourself already starting to heal. 

“Awww, how touching. Kai’s learned how to show love.”

“Damon, get the hell out of here,” the man warns, already pissed. 

“This is my house. You get out.”

“She needs a moment to heal first. Since you hurt her!” 

The switch is turning back off, you can see it in Kai’s eyes. Not his humanity switch - he doesn’t even need that one - but something much more dangerous. 

“Kai,” you start to warn, just wanting to leave. 

Damon eggs him on, “oh please, it was deserved. Actually, she deserved a lot more, considering how she’s defended you through all the fucked up shit you’ve done.”

“Just let us go, Damon. We won’t come back,” you try to argue. 

“Yeah, that’s the plan. Except, I like my original plan over Bonnie’s. Kai, you leave, and in two days’ time, I’ll deliver her back to you. Because I haven’t quite gotten my revenge, and I need to take my anger out on someone.”

“There’s no way in hell that that’s happening.”

“Then I could just lock you both up. That would work.”

“You’re not getting either of us,” he insists. He throws one of your arms around his shoulders and begins to guide you out the door. You stumble a little from the way your heels were slightly off the ground in the way you were bound. 

Damon blocks the door. “Nice try.”

“Get out of the way, Damon.”

“Fine. Your funeral.”

Kai’s not sure what he means, but he doesn’t really care. He helps you up the stairs and towards the door. 

Unfortunately, the main exit is blocked by three huge men. When Kai makes an attempt to get close, they hiss at him, veins in their face turning purple. 

“Oh yeah. Like my little surprise?”

“What is this?” Kai asks through clenched teeth.

“Just an extra challenge for you to fight your way through. See, you could leave without her, and not have to fight three massive vampires compelled to kill you, or you could die at their hands trying to save a girl. Imagine that,” Damon snorts. Kai then realizes Bonnie has joined his side. “Big Bad Malachai Parker dies in the Salvatore house in an attempt to save a girl. That would be quite the headline, I can see it already.”

“What happened to the days you used to kill for sport?” Bonnie pipes up. 

“I would never hurt her, you idiots should know that by now. We’ve been through hell together. She would never abandon me, and I sure as hell won’t abandon her.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I remember your love story. Five years in the prison world together because she just had to piss off Joshua Parker. Was it worth it, Y/N? Talking back to his dear old daddy and getting stuck in the same hell? Because I wouldn’t be surprised if you secretly hate Kai for all the shit he’s pulled.”

Despite your abused state, you manage to straighten your posture to look him in the eye. “It was worth every second, Damon. I love Kai, and I would do it again and again to be with him.”

“That’s some blind devotion, I’d say.”

“Well what’s the difference between us and you and Elena? You both are a complete menace to the world, and yet continue to think your relationship is more valuable than anyone else’s life. I’d think you would agree with me, Bonnie.”

The girl hesitates to answer. Damon snaps, “don’t listen to her bullshit, Bonnie. She knows what to say to make you doubt yourself. Remember the wedding. Remember Elena. Your best friend, comatose, in a coffin. You’ll never see her again.” He smirks as he sees his manipulation working. “Go ahead, BonBon, show her she’s no match for your power. Do it for Elena. Do it for revenge.”

Revenge is the only word she needed to hear to suddenly fire a spell at you. It hits you square in the chest, knocking you off balance. Kai loses his grip on your shoulder at the unexpected move, and in that moment, Damon grabs you. His teeth threaten your neck on the side he’s not yet bitten. Any more blood loss and you might end up in a temporary coma. 

Kai’s eyes darken in pure rage and he shoots his own spell at Bonnie. It stuns her only for a second, but it’s long enough for him to push Damon off of you. You stumble out of the way as they tussle on the ground, both throwing punches like young boys rather than vampires. The method keeps Kai on top, though, more used to fighting this way. In one of his punches, Damon grabs his arm and bites down, but your boyfriend has become blind to pain and doesn’t even react. He pulls a knife from his bootstrap and doesn’t hesitate to plunge it into the man’s stomach. Damon releases a guttural scream of pain, seemingly waking Bonnie from a trance.

When she regains her bearings, she positions a spell to shoot at you. “Phasmatos I-”

Kai leaps up at the first syllable and attacks her. A punch hard enough to blacken the eye lands on her face. He then gains control of her head, locking it in his arm, while exposing her neck. “One more word,” he breathes heavily, out of breath, “and you’re dead.” He nips her skin, drawing a small bit of blood as a warning. 

“Kai,” Damon groans from the floor. “Don’t touch her.”

“You fucking hurt my girl. I told you not to do that.”

Under his grip, Bonnie sweats in fear. She holds back a whine.

Across from him, you hold onto the bookshelf to keep yourself on your feet. “Kai, don’t,” you mutter, coughing. 

He looks up at you, expressionless. “If I don’t hurt them, they’ll hurt you again.”

You look at Damon, rolling on the floor in pain. “I think they’ve learned their lesson this time. C’mon, baby, we have a chance to escape.”

“Princess, they need to pay for what they did to you.”

“And they are. Kai, you’ve beaten them. Beaten them at their own game. They thought they could take me from you? Wrong. Thought they could convince you to leave me? Wrong. Thought they could overpower us? Also wrong. We’re two of the strongest beings on this earth; they’re like ants compared to us. So let’s show them they can’t stop us, can’t control us, and get the fuck out of here. Let them wallow in their misery that you beat them not once, not twice, but three times. And let them think about how you protected me the entire time, despite whatever they think about me, or you, or our love. How’s that sound?”

Kai’s softened by your words, but his grip on Bonnie doesn’t let up. You smile at him, encouraging him to leave with you. Then, with a deep breath, he drops the witch to the ground and races towards the vampires guarding the door. Adrenaline rushes through him, making him able to kill them one-by-one with almost no fight. Their attempts to defend themselves are feeble and pointless. He strikes at their bodies, feeds on their blood, and throws them to the floor. 

When the last is bleeding out on the Salvatores’ expensive carpet, he finally looks up. Your boyfriend’s covered in blood and his eyes are black with rage, but you feel no fear. Instead, you rush towards him and collapse in his arms. The blood from his clothes drenches your own, and you smile at the parallel. 

“Kai,” you mutter.

“Yes, princess?”

“It’s just like the wedding. You, fighting for us. Me, so, so proud of you. Us, bound together in blood.” You pull away to kiss him deeply. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you, too, baby. Let me get you to safety, okay?”

You nod and let him pick you up bridal style. The last thing you see before he races off is the entryway, decorated in blood and fallen bodies. You lock eyes with both Bonnie and Damon, their faces full of anger and defeat. A smirk forms on your lips, and then you’re gone. 

◇◇◇◇

It’s nearly two days later that you wake up, your body exhausted from everything that happened. Your capabilities as an immortal witch unfortunately don’t include vampire-quick healing, so after Damon’s tricks and torture, you needed time to recover. 

Kai’s right there beside you, though, when you do open your eyes. He’s perched on a chair, watching you intently, with his knee bouncing at a rapid pace. The moment you come to your senses, he leans forward to cup your face in his hands. 

“Princess? How are you feeling?”

It takes you a second to reply, but after a yawn, you smile up at him. “Good. Nap was much needed. How long was I out?”

“Almost two days.”

“What?! Are we still in Mystic Falls? Has anyone come looking for us?”

“Shhh, it’s okay. Take a deep breath. Yes, we’re still here, but no, no one’s come. We’re safe.”

You listen to him and calm down a little, but your mind is still racing. “But isn’t Ric going to come for you? Or Damon? Or-?”

“No, baby, I think you scared them off,” he smirks, “reminding them that we’re two of the most powerful beings? That letting them live is a mercy? They won’t be bothering us anytime soon.”

“Well it’s the truth,” you relax, “you could’ve easily killed them, Kai. I’m proud of you that you didn’t.”

“I would have if you didn’t convince me otherwise,” he admits. 

“Don’t beat yourself up for it. I can see your improvements.”

The words are touching to him. So badly does he want to be good for you; more in control of his rage and less likely to make choices without thinking about them. You started encouraging the healthy behavior when you started dating, and have helped him with it ever since. The wedding was an exception of rightful anger, though. The Mystic Falls’ gang’s betrayal was severe, and you couldn’t blame your boyfriend for his outburst. But in smaller situations where a better option is available, Kai’s learning to take it instead of the more vicious route. 

“I, um, I was worried there for a second, Y/N.” You sit up straighter on the bed to give him your full attention. He licks his lips before continuing. “When I got to the house, it was completely silent. I was afraid they’d… I don’t know, found a way to, y’know… or hurt you so badly that you couldn’t get out, or escape, or…” 

“Hey, hey, baby, come here,” taking his hand, you guide him into the bed. He curls up beside you, head on your chest. “There’s no amount of hurt they could’ve done to me that you wouldn’t’ve been able to undo. Like I told them, they only got us because they caught me by surprise. But when it comes down to it, we will always win.” You run a hand through his hair and feel him relax. “This is why it was so quiet, Kai. I knew you’d find me, and I knew you’d give ‘em hell. Was just saving my strength so I could help in the end. That’s all.”

He presses a feather-light kiss to the exposed part of your chest. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“I always will. I trust you with my life, because I am yours.” Despite your boop on his nose, you hope to rile him up with the words. 

A moment later, he shifts. “Say that again.”

“I am yours, Kai.”

He swallows audibly hard. For a second, it’s silent, and you wonder what’s going through his head. Right when you open your mouth to speak, he jumps up to straddle your waist. 

“Hi,” you say, surprised. You can’t hold back the giggle, nor the blush, at seeing him on top of you. 

“Hi, princess.” Lips attach to your collarbone, kissing along it. A fluttering feeling begs for more and you dig your hands into his hair. He picks up on your needs immediately. Hands grip your sides as he starts to suck the skin until it’s purple. You buck your hips up into his, rolling your eyes in pleasure when he lets out a moan. Finally then does he kiss your lips. With a hunger, he kisses you deeply. He bites your lower lip and tastes the blood produced from it. 

“Kai!” You giggle.

He smiles down at you, a drop of your blood on his mouth. You swipe your finger along it, then let him suck it off. The fluttering grows, and your heart is thumping out of your chest. 

“I need you, Kai.”

He teases, “what was that?”

“I said I need you.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over your giggling, baby girl. What did you say?”

“Malachai! I need you to fuck me!”

His eyes darken and jaw tenses. You know you got to him. Whether it was the full name or the language you used, you’re not sure, but there’s no going back now. 

You breathe deeply as he moves his hand from your waist to your mouth, maintaining eye contact the whole time. He slips two fingers past your lips and nods for you to suck, then dips his fingers below your panties, finding your clit. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling, and you buck your hips again for more. 

“Who do you belong to, princess?”

“You.”

“Good girl.”

In one fell swoop, he uses his vampire speed to undress you. 

“C-can I?” You stutter, grabbing at his shirt. 

He nods. You waste no time pulling it over his head, then fumbling with his belt. Kai lets you shrug his pants down as far as you can, before he kicks them off himself and sends them to the floor. You make a grab for his visible bulge next, but miss as he sinks his body down onto yours, grinding into your leg. A quiet moan soon becomes vulgarly loud when he licks a stripe up from your navel to your breasts. In a frenzy to hold onto something, your hands find his hair again, fingers digging deep. He teases your nipples with his tongue, always loving the way they bounce. He does this every time you have sex, but you’re not complaining. His mouth upon your soft skin is a heavenly feeling. It relaxes both of you. 

But this isn’t the time for relaxing. You need him to fuck you. 

After a minute, you take charge. You suddenly flip him over so you’re on top, then waste no time stripping him of his boxers. As soon as he realizes what’s happening, Kai tries to fight. He tries to gain control again, but fails when you grab his cock in your hands. You spit on it and watch his head fall back on the pillow. Your victory is cut short when he sees the smirk on your lips. 

“I thought I owned you, princess.”

“I thought you did, too. But it was pretty easy to take over,” you challenge. 

“You’re playing with fire.”

“Come on, put me in my place, then.” 

You put your mouth on him the second he tries to sit up. 

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. 

Kai is rendered unable to fight you with your mouth around his cock. You start at the tip, teasing and sucking the slit, before taking him a little deeper each try. With one hand, you’re holding him down, while the other tugs on his balls. Used to his size, you only gag the first time that you take him fully. He moans every time your tongue runs along the thick vein on his underside, or whenever his head hits the back of your throat. 

It isn’t long before you can tell he’s close. Small tears escape the sides of his eyes and he’s a blubbering, begging mess. You debate making him wait to cum - making him fuck you first - but then his cock twitches and you know he’s not going to last that long. Besides, he’s a heretic. He’ll be hard again in two minutes tops. 

You pull off just for a minute. “Cum for me, Kai.” Then go right back to it, humming to send him over the edge. 

The vibration moves through him at the exact time he releases, shooting down your throat. He pants heavily when he’s finished, and you can’t help but to lean forward and kiss him. 

“I’m the only one that’ll ever get to fuck you,” you whisper against his lips. “Because I’m yours. Now show me how you feel about that, hm?”

Kai doesn’t know if he’s ever been more turned on in his life. He flips you onto your back immediately and holds you down by your shoulders. His tip teases your entrance, hardening again already. 

“I’m the only one that’s ever gonna fuck you, too. You’re mine. No one can look at you. No one can touch you. You’re all mine.” He slips into you without warning, making your eyes roll back in your head. “I’m never gonna let anyone hurt you again. Never gonna be away from me. You’re not gonna be two seconds out of my sight.” He’s pounding into you, finding a rhythm quickly. “Fuck, Y/N. I fucking love you.” Every emotion is seemingly pouring out of him, and you let him say what he needs to say. You love it, and love that he’s finding an outlet in you in this moment. “You’re so fucking sexy under me, and on top, and the other day, fighting for me without hesitation. Putting them in their places, and then letting them live with the fact that they lost. And you’re so hot when you’re covered in their blood. When your eyes are dark with rage. Everything you do is hot.” 

Underneath you, the hotel bed is shaking. Kai puts his arm under your neck, stabilizing you in the off-chance it breaks. His other hand finds your clit again, rubbing how he knows you like it. You can feel him deep inside, and even see a bulge in your stomach. He takes a break in his praise, leaving the only noises to be obscene sounds of sex. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he repeats, getting sloppy. His kisses are wet and messy all over your face. He’s close again, and you are too.

“I love you, too. Kai,” you moan out, “I fucking love you. I belong to you, and I always will.”

Kai repositions his body to try and gain back control. Being close to the edge seems to give his cock a mind of its own. In the midst of this, he hits a spot that sends pleasure throughout your body. A loud moan escapes your parted lips. He’s quick to press a kiss to them, silencing you. 

“I’m the only one that gets to hear you moan,” his breath hits your face at the proximity. You’re so close. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all you need to lose control. Your body shakes throughout your orgasm, and you would’ve moaned again if he weren’t kissing you. Your hands grip his shoulders, the sheets, his hair, anything that you can grab in the moment. They finally land on his waist, and you sigh heavily at the feeling of his soft skin under your fingers. 

Kai cums a second later, groaning into your mouth. He keeps his cock buried inside you as he fills you up, preventing any of it from spilling. Sweat beads at his forehead. He won’t be able to keep himself upright for much longer. As soon as he finishes, he collapses beside you, panting heavily. 

You feel his cum leaking out of you, and can’t help but to swipe a fingerful into your mouth. His eyes are on you the whole time, offering you a lopsided smile. 

“You’re perfect,” he praises. 

“I love you, Kai.”

“I love you.” He turns to you. Effects of his high are still there, but you can tell his mood has changed to something softer. “You’re mine, Y/N, but you’re also your own person. Like you taught me, people are something we love, not own.”

If it’s even possible for you to fall more in love with him, you just did. “I know. But it’s why we love each other so much that we belong to each other.”

He kisses you again, completely satiated. “Princess?”

“Mhm?”

“We’ve got each other. We’ve got this stupid Gemini book. What do you say we get the fuck out of Mystic Falls for good?”

“I’d like that very much. I’ll go anywhere with you, love.”