#to anyone reading this who might've been worried about that

[nicksolemnlyswears]

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

(HAELENA’S TURN)

STAY WITH US

pairing: helaena targaryen x targaryen! reader, aegon targaryen x targaryen! reader

word count: ~3k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of murder and death of a child, light cursing, angsty helaena, one single mention of sex. dont @ me if you find a haelena instead of a helaena. targaryen names are much too complicated for my brain

a/n: thank you guys for all the love on aegon's oneshot. i was bouncing on the walls when i saw how much love it received and that some people agree with me in terms of alicent being a shit mom. that being said you dont really have to read the first part to read this. it works as a stand alone although it is a continuation.

although the inspiration to write these oneshots was the death of a child i love how soft and comforting they've come out. it's about sympathizing and giving these characters the love they deserve.

helaena deserves so much love even more than aegon. she's an innocent in all of this trapped in the midst of war. hell even rhaenyra agrees and scolded daemon for his misdoings.

im thinking of writing one last part where it is all three of them together: reader, aegon and helaena. i'm leaning towards smut but i never know what my brain will come up with. if you’d rather have some more domestic fluffy stuff let me know and that can be arranged!

enjoy!

Your fingers close around your skirts as you fly up the stairs to Helaena's bed chambers. One of her maids leads the way. The young girl sought you out as you readied for bed, rambling about how Queen Helaena was in distress. Without further question, you slipped on your robe and followed her.

The Queen has not been well since the night her child was brutally taken from her. She continues to live day by day in constant suffering as her mind has a difficult time coming to terms with that night's events.

As it happens, saying Helaena is 'not well' is an understatement.

She might've been 'not well' after the fact, but the funeral proceedings broke the last thread of sense she was holding onto. If anyone is to blame, it is the Dowager Queen who forced her to attend and Otto Hightower who was the 'mastermind' behind it all.

It was torture to hear the people of Kings Landing shouting for her, screaming vile words about Rhaenyra, and offering condolences about a subject they barely knew a thing about.

Most had never seen the young Prince; his cold body and the gold thread around his neck were their first glimpses of him. They gasped and awed at her child as if he were a spectacle while she had no choice but to sit and watch with composure.

It is only natural she would fall apart under the pressure of such ill-conceived plans. Her overthinking mind couldn't handle it any longer when the carriage got stuck. Her thoughts coming up with the most of wicked scenarios. She had to run.

Then, there is Jaehaera, who continues to ask for her twin brother. The poor girl has never spent a day apart from him since they were conceived. It is difficult for Helaena to hear Jaehaera constantly ask where he is and when he will return. It's a never ending reminder of her loss.

Besides, how is she to explain death to a child when Helaena herself has not accepted it.

The newly assigned guard sworn to protect the Queen opens the door for you as soon as you round the corner. His anticipation worries you to no end, and you fear what lies past those doors.

Maids surround Helaena, attempting to comfort her. She screams at them to let her be, but they persist. The maids mean well. Helaena is clearly distressed, yet they don't seem to realize it's because of their overbearing presence.

The young Queen swats them away. Her fingers thread through her messy hair as she seeks an escape, and sobs rake through her slender body until she collapses on her knees. Her lips move in unreadable murmurs in between each yell.

Helaena barely appears like herself. Dark purple circles line her under eyes, and her hair is unbrushed and knotted. Her signature plump cheeks have hollowed out, indicating that she has lost weight.

"Please," Helaena cries to no one in particular, recoiling from their touch.

You barrel through the maids and kneel on the floor at an arms length from Helaena. "'Laena?" you softly call to get her to look at you, knowing that if you even attempt to touch her, she will shy away.

At the recognition of your voice, Helaena's face whips up. She falls into your arms, hiding from the other females in the room. The tears that stain her face wet your robe as you hold her close. She tucks her face into your neck, hiccuping from emotion.

"Leave us," you command with a stern gaze that borders on anger.

The maids move to leave the room, but only after notifying you that the Queen has barely eaten or bathed in days. Once the door closes shut, you coax Helaena from your arms.

"What is wrong, 'Laena?" You ask softly, cradling her face to brush away her tears. The sight of her red and blotchy face breaks your heart. She must've been like this for a long time.

"It is my fault," she hiccups as new tears follow the path of the others. Helaena hangs her head in despair. She should've fought harder to keep her son alive. There must've been something else she could've done.

"Look at me," you say sternly, forcing her to look at you. It is when her eyes meet yours that you continue, "This is not your fault."

"I was the one to point my finger," she argues while her fists clench and unclench around the fabric of her dress when a new wave of emotion takes over.

Helaena is an overly emotional person. She feels things deep in her chest. She wishes she could control it, but the more she holds it in, the nastier it gets when it gets out of her control. Her body freezes and pleads for her to run and hide.

"Helaena, this was going to happen whether you pointed your finger or not. If you hadn't done what you did, you and Jaehaera would be dead as well."

It's blunt and a bit cruel, but Helaena must understand that she had no other choice. The only way this could've been stopped was if she had been assigned a sworn protector, but the council underestimated their enemy and Ser Criston Cole was too busy getting his cock wet to do anything about it.

"I told them to spare him and kill me instead," Helaena confesses with a weep.

She lets herself go on your shoulder as you wrap your arms around her shaking shoulders. You kiss the top of her head to console her guilty conscience. Helaena did not deserve to be a victim of Daemon's terrible idea. She might just be the most innocent of Targaryens.

"I know, Helaena, you were so brave. You're a wonderful mother. This is not your fault, and nobody blames you. You did what you had to do. Jaehaera is alive and well because of you."

It's hard for Helaena to stop thinking in such a way once she starts. The thoughts cause her to imagine things that aren't really there and doubt her reality. She feels like the staff's glances are not of worry but of resentment for letting those men kill her boy. Aegon's absence makes it all the worse.

"Aegon will not look at me, much less speak to me," she whimpers, wrapping her arms around your waist.

A tear slides down your cheek. You will never compare your sadness to theirs, but seeing them hurt in such a way pains you. Their marriage was arranged, yes, but Aegon and Helaena hold deep affection for each other. They simply have a difficult time showing it.

In this instance, there is no one who understands them better than each other. It is tragic but this should bring them closer together not tear them apart.

"Aegon is grieving. He can barely stand to look at himself because he feels like he failed his family, 'Laena. I promise you he will come around."

Helaena nods with her head on your shoulder. She is not convinced, but your words soothe her for the time being. Tears continuously slide down her face, and there is nothing you can do about it. You much prefer she cries it all out than hold it in.

"Come," you tell her, holding her hand and guiding her to the bath the maids had prepared before they left. "Let's get you ready for bed.”

You keep her close to you, reassuring Helaena you're there to stay as long as she needs. You help her untie the strings of her dress, and as you hang it over the back of a chair, she slips out of her smallclothes.

She accepts your hand to step into the bath. The water has now cooled, but she doesn't complain. It is the least of her worries. Helaena sits in the tub with her arms around her knees and silently cries.

Your goal tonight is to get her to rest. You can tell she hasn't slept in a long time, which will make her feel better.

Settling on the wooden stool next to the bath, you lather soap into the sponge and ask for her arm. Helaena complies, and you gently swipe the sponge across her skin. The maids were thorough as the smell of a calming oils invades your senses. They sincerely wanted to help their Queen.

Scrubbing down her arm, you note her nailbeds, which are red and raw. You're gentle with the soap when you reach her hand to prevent it from burning. Once you rinse it out, you bring her hand up to your lips, kissing her fingertips much like your mother would do when you got hurt.

Her crying calms when she catches onto your gesture, watching you in awe.

It is easy to note how she's thinned out as you continue to bathe her. Her skin presses against her ribs, showcasing each indent, and the bony prominences of her shoulders are much more palpable. It worries you to no end. Everyone has different coping mechanisms, but this is by far the unhealthiest one.

In the morrow, you will make it your goal to get her to eat. For a start, you will ask the kitchens to bake her favorite dessert. There has never been a moment where Helaena has refused a berry tart.

"Tilt your head back for me, love," you whisper, grabbing the pitcher of clean water from the table. Brushing Helaena's hair back, you pour the water, being careful not to get it in her eyes.

As she tilts her head back, she keeps her watchful eyes on you. She is in one of the most intimate positions, yet her lilac eyes reveal the most vulnerable parts of herself. You offer Helaena a comforting smile. Moving on from this tragic accident will be difficult, but we have to start somewhere.

When you lather her hair with soap and massage her scalp, she closes her eyes with a shudder. In turn, her shoulders relax, and goosebumps appear across her skin. A quiet moan slipping past her bitten lips.

Moving on to her face, Helaena watches you closely as you grab a rag to wash her face. You're so careful and tender with her. She has not made mention of it, but your touch feels pleasant against her skin.

You dab her neck next, looking over the wound that was cast upon her. You wish for it not to scar. Helaena needs no more reminders of that night.

After finishing the bath, you help her stand and dry off. Then, you follow her to the bed, where her nightgown lies discarded. With your assistance, she quickly slips it on. Helaena is quiet as she dresses; no more tears well up in her eyes.

"Let's brush your hair," you whisper soothingly.

Delicately, you glide the brush through her silver strands. You tackle the knots methodically to prevent pulling on her hair. A couple of drops of rose oil help greatly with the task as the bristles move smoothly across the long length of her hair.

Helaena sighs softly, and, through the mirror, you can see her eyes are closed. The poor thing must be exhausted.

"How are you feeling?" You ask her, tying the plait you weaved and wrapping your arms around her shoulders. You prop your head upon hers, cuddling her into you.

"Better, I suppose," she nods gratefully, grasping your hand hanging loosely across her chest. "I am tired," she admits.

"Let's get you to bed then."

Before you can slip away, Helaena protests and holds your wrist. "No, please." You're taken aback by the desperation in her voice. Why is she refusing to rest when her body begs for it?

"Helaena, when was the last time you slept?"

Helaena appears guilty. She swallows the knot on her throat, preparing to answer. "Not since that night. The nightmares do not allow me respite."

You sit beside her on the bench, keeping a firm grasp on her hand. "Do you wish to speak about them? It might help."

Her voice is barely above a whisper. "It's always the same. They return when the nights darkest and take Jaehaera."

Helaena is terrified. Many of her dreams have become reality, and this is one she would not be able to bear witness to. The things they do in her dreams are unforgivable. She cannot lose her daughter to those monsters.

Silence takes upon the room. Helaena cannot survive in a sleep deprived state, there must be something you can do. "What if we bring her here? She can sleep with you. That way, you will know she's safe."

Helaena ponders your suggestion, her eyes drifting away. "Will you stay?" Although a question the way Helaena's voice cracks, it's more of a plead.

"Is that what you wish, my Queen?" You ask, caressing her cheek so she returns to you from that faraway place in her mind.

She's quick to nod and squeeze your hand in gratitude. "Please," she whispers, leaning into your touch.

"Anything for you."

Helaena accompanies you to Jaehaera's new chambers. The King saw it fit Jaehaera did not reside in the room where her twin brother was murdered. A wise choice.

If your memory serves you well, Jace used to inhabit the space once upon a time.

Helaena almost runs to her daughter's cot, ensuring she's alive and well. You sympathize with her, it's natural to worry about your child if another was stolen from your life.

"Mama," Jaehaera yawns when Helaena picks her up.

"You're sleeping with mummy tonight, yeah?" Helaena whispers, cradling the back of her head and kissing the crown of her head.

Jaehaera, too tired to reason or even question it, nods and nestles into the crook of Haelena's neck. The sight is eerily similar to that fateful night.

The guard posted to protect Jaehaera escorts you to the Queen's chambers, standing on the opposite side of Helaena's white cloak guard.

Once inside, you slip off your robe and join her and Jaehaera on the bed. The girl is safely nestled between you both, pale lashes fluttering shut.

Helaena reaches for your hand to ensure you do not leave, and you lace your fingers with hers. "Sleep, 'Laena. I'll keep you safe," you promise her.

All it takes for Helaena to sleep is a lullaby your mother used to sing to you. It was of great tales of the people of Old Valyria. It was your favorite growing up, and now it is Helaena's.

By the song's end, Helaena's breaths even out and she succumbs to slumber. Although her face reflects her tiredness, the resemblance between Helaena and Jaehaera is stark.

When your eyes begin to close, eager to follow Helaena and Jaehaera to the land of dreams, the door creaks open. Startled, you sit up on the bed to search for an intruder, ready to scream if need be.

Aegon stands by the door, his chest heaving and his face pale. His hair is in disarray, and his eyes are wild with worry. "Where is Jaehaera?" he asks.

"She's right here," you respond, lowering the sheets and moving your body to reveal her resting upon Helaena's chest.

Aegon sighs in relief, and after a moment of hesitation, he timidly steps closer to the bed, observing the scene in front of him. He has taken to visiting his daughter's chambers throughout the night. He doesn't trust the guards, even if he is the one who assigned them. Aegon needs to see with his own eyes that his remaining child is alive and not endangered.

He had been frightened when the guard who was supposed to be posted by her door was gone, and worse, so was his daughter. Before he could scream, a maid walked in and, upon questioning, told him Jaehaera was in the Queen's chambers with her mother and the Princess.

You lay back against the headboard and observe him. He sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over you to brush a strand of hair away from his wife's face. Then, his hand lowers as his fingertip traces the slope of his daughter's nose.

"You should talk to her."

Helaena's words are clear as day in your mind. After witnessing Aegon in the same position, you reckon it would be good if they spoke to one another.

"I wouldn't know what to say," Aegon responds with a shake of his head.

"Yes, you do," you insist, resting your hand upon his, which lays on the bed. He glances questioningly at you, silently asking you to explain.

Your voice is light and soft. The last thing you want is to wake Helaena, although your instincts tell you it is doubtful. "Nobody understands what you're going through better than Helaena. She lost a child as well and feels just as hopeless as you do. Talk to her and tell her the words you would've liked to hear."

"It is that easy?" He asks in disbelief with a scoff. He looks at you for guidance. You've helped him more than anyone in the council or his own mother.

"Yes," you chuckle, and he joins you, if only for a moment. "Would you like me to go so you can stay?" You wouldn't want to intrude in a moment that can unite a family yet again.

Aegon shakes his head and urges you to stay abed. "It is alright. I will soon talk with 'Laena."

For a brief moment, Aegon presses his forehead against yours to show his appreciation. He stands with a press of his lips to your forehead and one more glance at his family. "Thank you for everything. I hope one day I can repay you for all your kindness."

"There's no need."

He does not speak but shares a glance that says a thousand words. Aegon closes the door behind him and turns to the guards standing by it.

Their backs visibly straighten when he addresses them. "Under no circumstance are you to leave your post. Your goal is to protect the Queen and the Princesses."

After all, his heart and soul are in that room.

STAY WITH US

came out a little longer than aegon but there was much to do with lovely helaena. queen helaena is a big reason as to why i hate alicent so much. alicent has let her down time and time again. how can she fucking ask helaena not to say anything about her and cole? fuck, alicent, she's not even thinking about that.

did you enjoy this one shot? please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept keyboard smashes, emojis, words of encouragement, praise, virtual hugs and alicent and cole slander) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!

[jaythes1mp]

yan!Batfam x Ponyo!Reader!! 🐟🩷❤️

On days like these Damien strolled around the shoreline. Patrolling the nearby warehouses, looking for any of the local villains henchmen bringing anything suspicious to them. But to his disappointment, nothing... to complete his disappointment, he hasn't been commed about anything crimes near his area.

Looking around the shore he scoffs picking up a broken bottle, "The least these criminals could do is throw their trash away..." Damien sneers as he threw it away. He can't believe it, he's so bored that he's cleaning the shoreline.... He's was a vigilante for Batman's sake! He grew up around blood and bodies!!

As he starts to clean the trash, he spots something moving and clinking around. Walking closer, it seems to be a fish! Huh... wait.... it's stuck in a jar! The closer he got, the more he saw. The fish is odd looking... quite human? Damien decides not to think further about it, he needs to help the fish. He crouches down and tries to get the fish out. As he does so he thinks, 'It looks like a goldfish... Who in their right mind dumps a goldfish in the sea, didn't they know they're freshwater??! They're also invasive and bad for the local marine life!' After struggling to get the fish out, he decided to break the jar. Picking up a near by rock, he hits the jar as hard as he could, while trying to not strike the fish.

Damien carelessly picked up the fish from the broken glass, accidentally cutting his gloves. As he was about to looks at his teared glove, he felt a sting. Dropping the fish quickly as fast he could, Damien looks down at his hand. A bite mark?! He's bleeding too, how? How could a fish bite down hard enough for him to bleed??

He read about some fish having teeth, but a goldfish having teeth? Impossible! As he ponders Damien looks down at the strange goldfish, 'Should I take it home to study it? To keep?' as he does that, his comm rings. He quickly looks at the fish then his comm. It was Alfred!

He quickly turns it on, "Hello Alfred..." a second to long for him, Alfred chimed "Hello young master Damien," without missing a beat, Damien asks "Is there anything you need?". "Yes, you have school tomorrow." said Alfred, 'Dammit,' Damien didn't even realize it's around that time! He quickly looks around and sees a plastic pail, he runs to grab it and quickly scoops up the fish with some water, and books it back to the batmobile.

Funnily enough, as he and Bruce rode into the Batcave, Bruce didn't notice the plastic pail. Damien quickly hid the bucket, and starts getting out of his costume. Just as quickly, he picks up the pail and runs back to his room. As he was up in the manor, Alfred asks, "What is in the pail, young master?" Damien froze as the question was asked. He didn't want to tell anyone about the strange goldfish, but this is Alfred asking! One cannot just keep a secret from Alfred. Reluctantly he said, "I found a strange fish while on patrol, it was stuck in a jar..." hopefully that was enough to satisfy Alfred. "Are you rehabilitating the fish, young master?" Alfred questioned again, "Yes, I am... I'm worried about it's fins, I had to break the jar after all." He(Alfred) nods, "As long as you go to bed after," he walks off, probably to treat any of his brothers who'd might've gotten hurt during patrol. "Goodnight young master." "Goodnight, Alfred..."

After their parting words, Damien goes up to his room and checks on the fish's fins. After a few minutes, there was no tear or any wounds on it. As about he was going to bed, Damien worries about the fish. The pail he currently has it in isn't an adequate enclosure. Unfortunately, that's tomorrow Damien's problem. As he closes his eyes, he thought he heard a child's voice calling his name...

(idk if Gotham is near water or somethin... but there now!!)

Ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo

Masterlist

[leyyvi]

It's 3:04 in the afternoon when you're buried nose-deep in writing your research paper. And though you've been trying to focus on it for the last half hour, the only thing on your mind is literally all of the other things you need to get done. Clean your room, do the dishes, finish that late assignment (it's been almost a week now!) Shit. Too many things to do, and there's never enough hours in the day to feel like you can finish them.

You may or may not have been tipping over the edge of a breaking point for a while now.

But you've been convinced that it was hidden fairly well, at least from your friends. They don't press more than a simple "good luck with your paper" or "talk to you soon" when you tell them how busy you are.

However, your boyfriend definitely notices.

Levi isn't one to not speak his mind when something bothers him. In fact, he's pointed out several times in the last week that you shouldn't be overworking yourself. Out of anyone you know, Levi knows your limits the most. And he must see it where you don't, considering he's walked into your apartment with his copy of the key and is now standing over you, a paper bag in his hand as he glares down his nose.

"Hey," you mumble, turning back to your laptop screen in front of you. But the laptop is forced shut by a veiny hand, replaced with the plop of that same paper bag Levi was just holding. "Whats that?"

You pout when he slides the laptop down the dining table.

"Lunch. You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I know you are, don't fight me on this. Please just eat with me. Forget about your work for a minute."

He pulls out the boxes in the bag, revealing a couple of sandwiches. Fine, maybe you're a little hungry.

"You didn't answer my calls so I had to guess what you would've liked," Levi murmurs as he slides the boxes toward you. You mutter an apology, but he's not mad. He waves it off, simply telling you to eat and "stop worrying about shit for one damn second."

With anyone else, it might've pissed you off.

When you're absorbed in your work, it's hard to gather energy to talk to other people, let alone even take care of yourself. And yet, somehow, Levi is the one person who manages to read you like a book. For some reason, he's able to pick up on your bouts of silence and understand what you need. You always wondered how he can do that.

And though he's yet to say "I love you", you wonder if gestures like this are close enough to that.

He doesn't ask about work, merely sits with you and eats in silence. The brief moment of quiet feels good, comforting even. Especially in Levis presence. Despite his coarse language and tendency to maintain a glare most if not all times, you've always found him to be so... Stable. A steady wall to lean on when the world makes your stance tremble.

You really love that about him.

When you two have finished, Levi promptly cleans up the table. You assume it's okay to go back to work, but his hand lands on yours when you try to pull it back.

"You're done for the day," he says with a firm stare. The usual one he gives when he absolutely refuses to listen to any counterargument you might come up with. "We're gonna go for a walk, take you outside. Just get out of this shit and breathe some real fresh air."

"I'm not a dog," you grumble as he holds out his hand to you now to help you stand.

"Mhm," is all he says.

You two walk around the neighborhood, Levi having taken away your phone in an effort to keep you from too much more screen time. He'd return it if you really asked, but you're thankful for the restriction in all honesty.

Usually, Levi isn't the one to initiate an exorbitant amount of physical contact. It's you who tends to absentmindedly cling to his arm while you're talking. And it's generally you who comes up behind him to cover his eyes and make him guess who, despite the fact that he already knew just from the sound of your footsteps.

Most often, Levi does attend to little touches here and there. The back of your neck, the edge of your hip, the top of your thigh, along the line of your jaw. And now in this moment, it's when Levi steps up a little and takes your hand completely in his. It isn't anything new for you to hold hands, but it's rare for him to be initiator.

You appreciate that. Those moments where he's willing to be more brave about touching. It's calming, feeling his fingers between yours as your arms sway with every step.

"I'm sorry for being so short with you lately," you sigh, staring at the cracks in the sidewalk you step on. Levi always seems to make a subconscious effort not to step on them, even now.

"It's nothing. I'm always short with you, anyways..." He trails off quietly.

Your sudden snort startles him, obvious with the incredulous look on his face as you burst into a tiny fit of laughter. His brow raises in confusion.

"That wasn't even close to being a funny joke and you're still laughing?"

"It was funny to me! You're always funny."

"You're the only person in the whole world who thinks that."

"Must be why you're dating me, right?"

His hold tightens around your hand. "I'm dating you because I l-"

Levi cuts himself off and inhales through his nose, pushing his sunglasses up to hide his eyes as he recomposes himself. "I'm dating you for a multitude of reasons."

"You could be more specific."

"If you keep talking I'm gonna have fewer reasons," he clears his throat, hovering his free hand over his eyes to shield himself from the sun, leaving remnants of the summer's heat on his skin.

You smile, for the first time in a few days, actually. "I thought you were trying to make me feel better."

"Hmph." Clearly, Levi has nothing else to say.

[yikesmary]

THREE: HE FALLS FIRST — choi seungcheol x reader

summary: seungcheol finds himself falling in love with you, slowly but surely, and it hits him all at once.

notes: i’ve been loving the reception this series has been getting lately! i appreciate everyone who has been reading and interacting with the series.

also, i'm going to start a taglist for this? someone asked to be on it if this series had one, and i didn't realize i could've been doing that the entire time LMAO. anyways, to get on the taglist, just comment on this or send an ask. i'll try to tag everyone i see.

JUNE 13 2023 EDIT: i've created a taglist, so instead of commenting to be on the taglist, click the link!

warnings: mentions of puking (doesn't actually happen), drunk shenanigans, it's very cliché and i don't regret it

join my taglist!

previous / next

“Cheol, can you come help me?”

When Seungcheol enters your room, he could feel himself getting slack jaw. Both of you were getting ready to go out to the club with your friends, and with the 14 of you, he could only expect chaos.

What he didn’t expect, though, was you in a beautiful dress that almost made his heart stop when he saw you. Call him cliché, but he'd never felt that way before about anyone.

Oblivious to reaction and how he was feeling at the moment, you were trying to make sure your dress wasn't in a disarray when you asked, "Can you help me zip up the dress? I can't reach it,"

Seungcheol didn't realize he was staring and unresponsive until you turned around in confusion and waved your hand in his face. "Hello, Earth to Cheol? You okay?" you said.

He, thankfully, had snapped out of his trance before it could be considered really weird. "Uh, sure. Turn around," he instructed.

Looking at him weird, you obliged and felt your dress being zipped up. You turned around and said, "How do I look? I wanted to dress somewhat nice since this is the first time we're all hanging out. It's like my little friend group combining with the frat friend group of yours,"

"You look good. Like, really good," Seungcheol replied, clearing his throat when he realized he might've overdone it.

You gave him a smile and then a thought occurred to you. "Oh, when are we ordering the Uber?" you questioned.

"Uber? Why are we ubering when we have a car?" He asked.

"Well, we're both going to a club, so I'm assuming we're both going to drink," you replied.

"I'll drive," Seungcheol immediately said, not liking the thought of the both of you drunk out of your minds and he wasn't able to take care of you.

"Are you sure, Cheol? We can split—"

"No worries, I'll be the sober one so we can get home safely,"

"Alright, but don't get mad at me when I'm stood over a toilet puking my body weight out and you're not drunk,"

"As long as you're not like Soonyoung pretending to be a tiger, I think I can handle whatever you do,"

You and Seungcheol had barely entered the club when Seungkwan and Seokmin had somehow already located the both of you then proceeded to drag you to take a shot. And it wasn't long after the shot until they had dragged you to the dance floor.

After he had made sure you were surrounded by his and your friends who had decided to dance, he made a beeline to the bar, where the rest of his friends were. Wonwoo, who had made a wise decision to stay sober, had tried to offer him a drink.

"Not drinking tonight," Seungcheol declined the drink.

The boys had given him a look at his decline. "Why aren't you drinking? Usually, you'd take a beer at least by now," Jeonghan asked.

"I just don't feel like it," he replied, looking at you from afar, who was currently dancing to I Am the Best by 2NE1. He had wondered why 2NE1 was playing until he looked at the DJ Booth and saw that Soonyoung and Seokmin had somehow convinced the DJ to takeover for a bit.

Once he said that, the boys had made a look once more, this time exchanging it to each other. Seungcheol had noticed and asked, "What's those looks for?"

"It's because you don't realize it," this time it was Jihoon who said it.

"Realize what?"

"Cheol, how long have we known you? We've known you long enough to know how you drink. And you don't deny a drink when it's offered to you. But this time, you're not drinking. Do you know why that is?" Jeonghan asked.

"You guys are overanalyzing this. What if I just don't want to drink?"

"Because you would be looking at us and not your girlfriend this entire conversation," Wonwoo told him.

Part of Seungcheol knew this was true, but the other part of him didn't want to believe it. To his friends, his behavior might make sense since he was in a relationship. But to him, it didn't since he knew better than to develop feelings for someone he was fake dating.

He had figured in the beginning that it would be easy to not develop any feelings during the relationship since the basis of the relationship was built on a poorly made rumor and a deal. But what he didn't know at the time was how easy it was being with you.

While Seungcheol was trying to reevaluate how he was acting lately, a loud "CHEOL!" was heard and a body had practically slammed into him. The force was so unexpected, you and him had nearly fell to the ground.

"Oh, sorry bro," you drunkenly said, oblivious to the fact that Seungcheol was shocked you called him bro and your friends were laughing at his reaction.

"Bro?" He incredulously said.

"Bro, Cheol, same difference," you shrugged.

"How drunk are you?" He asked.

"Well, Soonyoung gave me something he called 'Tiger's Blood' and I have no idea what that contained but it tasted good and it made me feel warm inside," you giggled.

When Seungcheol looked to where the aforementioned Tiger was, he saw that Soonyoung and Seokmin was trying to jump on a table with Jun encouraging them to, Minghao filming it, and Vernon trying to convince Soonyoung and Seokmin to get down.

Meanwhile, Jihoon had left during Seungcheol's conversation with you and joined Seungkwan and Chan (who had replaced Soonyoung) on the DJ Booth. Wonwoo had left as well, but he was helping out Mingyu who could barely get on his feet because of how clumsy he was (Mingyu's not even that drunk, he's just that clumsy).

Joshua and Jeonghan were the only ones who remained with you and Seungcheol, but they were observing the both of you.

Suddenly feeling sleepy, you laid your head on Seungcheol's chest and said, "Cheol, I wanna go home,"

Seungcheol knew that if he didn't do something to wake you up, he was going to have to carry your sleeping body out of the club. "Can I have a bottle of water?" He asked the bartender, who was quick to give the bottle.

He had managed to pay the bartender however much it costs for the water bottle while you were still in your arms. He opened the cold bottle before giving it to you saying, "Here. Drink this before we go home,"

You took the bottle of water and drank a couple of gulps, feeling more thirsty than you realized. Once you drank half of the bottle, you showed Seungcheol, who had nodded in approval. "We're gonna go," he told Jeonghan and Joshua, who said their goodbyes.

You and Seungcheol had to maneuver through the crowd of people, but he made sure that you were near him the entire time. And once you both were out, he realized that you were shivering a little, so he took off his jacket to cover you.

He was about to guide you back to the car, and then he realized you wore the heels that looked obscenely painful but said it made your legs look good. "Give me your heels," he told you, and you shook your head no.

"I'll be barefoot!" you exclaimed.

"Fine, just wear my shoes," he replied, taking off his shoes and handing them to you.

"But then you'll be barefoot!"

"I have socks on, I'll be okay," Seungcheol said, nudging the shoes to you.

You grumbled but put the shoes on, feeling slightly more sober than you were when you were inside the club.

Once you guys got in the car, it was barely two minutes before you fell asleep, using Seungcheol's jacket like a blanket. When he took a quick look at you while driving, he smiled when he saw the sight.

Maybe he was falling for you, after all.

taglist: @geniejunn

[vhstown]

time out (part 1)

[boxer au] — 42!miles g morales x gn!reader

summary: Miles Morales makes boxing history. Your boyfriend isn't there to celebrate.

warnings: angst-ish, description of (boxing) injuries, self-destructive behaviours, briefly implied death, pov switch (yay), gtranslate spanish

word count: 3.9k

a/n: ive never written 42 miles before but he's a cool lil guy split into two parts cuz it was too long 😭 semi-edited (for the millionth time)

PART 2 → / THE AU

"Just six rounds in, Miles Morales knocks out the Vulture!"

Screams and cheers exploded from your phone as you laid in bed, watching the recap of your boyfriend's boxing match. Your eyes were straining from how close you were holding the screen to your face; this was probably the third time you’d watched Miles’ win. After training to hell and back, he’d made it to the national league with you and Aaron to support him. He did more than just “make it”, in fact. His “revolutionary” victory was plastered all over social media and the news. Everywhere you looked was: “17-YEAR-OLD NYC BOXER OVERTAKES LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION ‘VULTURE’ IN US NATIONALS”. Miles Morales — your boyfriend — had made boxing history.

The giddy grin on your face only grew wider as he came up again on screen, sporting the stoic expression he'd perfected over the last few months behind the overly-done editing and animations of the recap. As much as you'd wanted to go out and see him live (though begging your family to let you go to Vegas wasn’t exactly feasible), he'd made it clear he didn't want you, or anyone for that matter, in that arena. It was something about having "total focus" — and it must've worked, you thought, as you watched him give his post-fight interview.

“I jus’ hope you watchin’, cause I’m here. Miles Morales made it!”

Despite his boyish, adrenaline-fuelled shout at the mic, the quiet laugh you let out was one of pride rather than embarrassment. He had every right to celebrate, and you were watching, even if it wasn’t live. Everything he'd done up until this point was well worth it: the constant training, sparring, the late nights and early mornings — maybe even the countless unanswered texts and missed calls too. Miles had worked himself to the bone, and while it might've worried you at the time, it was nothing compared to the satisfaction you felt while watching him on screen. He knew what he was doing; Miles was semi-professional at this point. You had to let him do his own thing, even if that meant letting him go for a while.

Right now, though, Miles was home from Vegas. Tapping out of the video, you scrambled to your messages. The last ones were from you, sent weeks ago, a "good luck" and "i love you" read and without a response. Your fingers kept missing the keys, and you frowned at yourself until you finally were able to hit send.

CONGRATS BABY!!! Not delivered

IM SO PROUD OF YOU Not delivered

You tried resending them, only to be met with the same red message.

why arent my texts sending Not delivered

miles??? Not delivered

Not delivered? It'd almost been three days since the tournament; Miles always had his phone on.

"To leave a message, please press one—" The call went to voicemail for the third time. Your stomach swirled with something like uncertainty. It didn't even ring at all. Miles made it a habit to always be available, so why...?

Boxers needed time to recover, he was probably just tired and turned his phone off. Or he could be busy with an interview; Miles Morales was sort of a celebrity right now — who wouldn't want to talk to the 17-year-old boxing prodigy? You knew you wanted to, prodigy or not.

It was probably because you hadn’t seen Miles in so long, but possibilities kept forming in your head, disappearing just as fast. What if he blocked you? Or he could’ve changed his number. Were you over? No. Nope. No way. Not like this.

There was one other reason that made some sort of sense, but you decided to think against it. Miles had made it to the semi-finals in entire the National League. It was over; he'd gotten what he wanted. He was supposed to be resting right now.

Miles wasn't that stupid, right...?

You pulled up Rio's contact. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Riiiiiiing, riiiiiiing…

Better for him to be safe than sorry — or stupid.

"Hello?"

"Hola, tía, uh, could I speak to Miles?" You felt just a little crazy as you held the phone to your ear, but there was no harm in calling his mom.

"Ah, he's not home right now — said he was going out with his tío."

"Oh… Do you know where they went?"

"I'm not sure. Something important. About a... contract?"

"Contract…?" you muttered to yourself. “Okay… thank you.” It wasn't like you knew anything about a contract, though it wasn't like Miles would tell you anyway. At least he was safe, and with Aaron. It was probably important, official — something that didn't involve you. Not a lot of things in Miles’ life involved you, it seemed.

"How have you been?” Rio's voice interrupted your thoughts. You had called her out of nowhere, and after a while. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Oh, um..." The last time you'd talked to Rio was… right before Miles had left for Vegas. Well, you hadn't exactly talked. All you remember is just comforting her in silence. "Yeah, tía. Have you?"

"I have, but I've just been all over the place recently. So many reporters…" Rio's voice lifted up slightly in exasperation. You could only imagine what it was like for her. Your feelings suddenly felt a lot less significant, and you were back to your comforting mode all over again.

"I see. Must be exhausting." You attempted a polite laugh, which came out more like a sigh. If only you could be as patient as Rio…

"I'm so proud, though." Her voice warmed with a smile. If your chest ached with melancholy or empathy, you didn't know. "I didn't want him to leave home so soon. I still think this whole… professional thing is a bit too much, but… I want to trust him also."

"I'm sure he'll be fine, tía. If he's in the nationals already, he's probably getting a lot of support." It was more like you were trying to convince yourself. "I'm sure he has great coaches... and he's got me and Aar— uh, his uncle, too."

"I know…" For a moment, you weren't sure if either of you had anymore to say.

"…If not, I'll have to go there myself and give them a piece of my mind, eh?" she continued. You weren’t sure if it was a joke, but a smile formed on your lips anyway.

"Yeah…" A quiet laugh leaving your mouth at the image of Rio cussing out Miles' poor manager, in two languages no less. No wonder he was such a good boxer — Rio must have passed down her fighting spirit. "Maybe you'd even get signed,” you joked, the image of that even more amusing (and a scary possibility.)

Rio let out her own laugh, and your smile only grew; talking to her always made you feel better. "Me? Boxing? Nunca (Never.) — I'll work in that hospital until the end of me."

There was another stretch of silence. You thinned out a sigh, trying not to let the smile leave your face, even if she wasn’t there to see it.

"Come over for dinner tomorrow. I'll tell Miles to come and get you."

"Sure, tía, I'd love to." He probably just needed a break. Not from you specifically, but in general.

"You know tú y Miles sois mi vida, ¿bien?" (you and Miles are my life, right?) It wasn’t often Rio said that, but you always remembered every time she did, and how it made you feel — like you were family. Rio was pretty much a second mother to you. It made you wonder what Miles' father would've been like.

"Well, it's getting late, and I have a lot of laundry to fold." Rio's tone had a fake sort of enthusiasm — tiredness? You couldn’t really tell with her; the woman was always upbeat. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will." It was late, you realised, and the sky outside your window was a lot darker than it had been before. "You too, tía."

“Descansa, ¿sí?” (Get some rest, yes?)

“Sí, tía.”

The call ended, and you were left facing your messages, a bittersweet feeling hugging you from behind. Right now, Miles was out with Aaron, about some contract, probably to do with boxing…

But why weren't your texts going through?

miles are you ok? Not delivered

im really proud of you Not delivered

i wish i couldve seen you live Not delivered

It wasn’t like there was much point, but…

i love you Not delivered

Maybe it was just out of habit; maybe you just missed him. Your reflection frowned at you behind the messages, thumb hovering over the power button to shut your phone off, until your phone pinged with a notification — Aaron was texting you.

Hey man

Out of town

LMK if miles breaks in

You sat up immediately, fingers floating uselessly above the keys for a moment.

sure Read at 11:24PM

are you out of town already? Read at 11:25PM

Ping!

Yeah

@ Queens

Miles was with Aaron about some “contract”... and Aaron was in Queens?

You knew Miles hadn't blocked you, or turned his phone off — he had no signal. And there was only one place in Brooklyn you could think of that had no reception, and that MIles had any reason to be in. It was also the one place you didn't want him to go to: that damn warehouse.

The place he’d spent training all those weeks — what reason did he have to be there right after finishing the tournament? Putting on your jacket, blinking back the sleepiness and collecting the fleeting remains of patience you had left, you could only hope that Miles had even a shred of common sense with him.

THWACK! THWACK! THWA— Crack!

"Mierda..." (Shit...) Miles hissed, drawing his glove away from the punching bag. His hand was paralysed for a moment, a deep, gnawing pang running through his fingers down to the rest of his arm. The tight gloves only suffocated him more, doing nothing to ease the pain as he gritted his teeth and waited for it to dull down.

Why was he even here? It was over — that Norman bastard had blown him off hours ago. It felt like a couple minutes, the words still fresh in his mind. Searing pain shot through his hand when he tried to flex his fingers, the rest of his muscles starting to ache too. This was going to hurt after the adrenaline wore off. Damn it, Morales.

The walls flashed white all of a sudden, a faint rumble of thunder interrupting the pounding of his heartbeat as he tried to straighten himself out. It was quiet, except for the sounds of the incoming storm. The playlist he was listening to had finished ages ago — your playlist. If he didn’t want to think about you, he wasn’t doing a good job of it.

Rain blasted quietly against the windows, and Miles’ eyes stung with dryness as he squeezed them shut. There was no way he'd be able to go back now, not to you, definitely not to his mom. She'd probably go on and on about how he should've taken his jacket, how he ruined his hair in the rain again, maybe how he wasted his damn time being a boxer...

It was probably fair; his mom had enough on her plate trying to support them both — especially him right now. She’d done everything in her power to make sure he got to Vegas, and he’d just left her alone again right after. But how was he meant to face her now? He was supposed to make her proud, make his dad proud, but it wasn’t like he had any pride left after he’d lost his contract. The Green Goblin had probably set the record for fastest knockout when Miles lost to him. Of course just the semi-finals weren’t enough; Norman Osborn was the big shot of boxing, and if Miles lost to some rookie in just about 15 seconds, then maybe he wasn’t worth the investment.

It didn’t make sense — nothing about The Green Goblin (or “Harry”, whatever they liked to gossip about) made sense. He’d just debuted, but didn’t even look like a boxer; he didn’t stand right, his style was inconsistent, his head movement was all over the place, but his punch had almost knocked Miles’ brain straight out of his skull. It was almost superhuman. Even with no openings, the freak of nature had forced his way through like an animal. And he was scrawny, not nearly as built as Miles at least, like he should’ve been in the weight class down. Either way, the asshole was being celebrated, and Miles was out of a contract.

And Miles had just stood there, while Norman berated him and tore Miles’ dream apart right in front of his very eyes. Maybe he’d hoped too much as an “amateur” boxer. That’s all he was, apparently — no matter how hard he worked, or what he achieved, or what he promised.

“Why should I keep you? The Vulture was destined to lose at his age.”

“Even rigged matches wouldn’t get you anywhere.”

“I mean, you’re as good at fighting as one of those street kids.”

“That’s all you were before I decided to give you a chance, no?”

The image of the Norman’s uncanny, sneering face sent his good fist reeling towards the punching bag. Should’ve pummelled his pelirojo (redhead) ass to the ground—

"Miles!"

The glove crumpled mid-air against the bag, arm going rigid. It was silent as he let out a breath through his teeth — he wasn’t hearing things, was he?

The rush was starting wearing off, his mind starting to cloud and pain faintly radiating again from his other hand. His good fist tightened inside the glove, pushed against the bag which was still and awkwardly tilted.

You’re losing focus, just punch the damn thing—

"Miles, what the hell are you doing here?"

The noise of the door shutting made him turn around, floor squeaking under his stumbling feet. It was you by the door, breathing just as heavily as him and dripping head to toe with rain, in a jacket that was way too thin for any sort of weather.

Dios... (God...) He knew he couldn’t be hallucinating that disapproving look on your face.

Rain was pattering gently against the glass as he pulled his arm away away from the bag, letting it swing in front of him before his eyes met yours.

"It's midnight, what are you..." A sharp intake of breath interrupted your words — a shiver.

"What’re you doin’ here...?" Miles asked instead through a grimace. His voice came out wrong — hoarse. Cold sweat was clinging to his skin, and his throat was dry and tightening. A mess — that’s what you were talking to right now, barely your boyfriend. All he could do was stare as the rush died down and his senses were coming back to him. The fog in his mind made it hard to speak, even harder to look at you.

"My texts and calls weren't going through— You weren't with Aaron or your mom, I just..." You sucked in another breath through your teeth; raindrops were glistening on your skin. He should’ve just stayed home, damn it. "Was just worried."

Well, he certainly looked worrying, even more so than you. Swallowing back his breathlessness wasn’t helping; it was like he’d ran a marathon with his fists. The pain from his knuckle was starting to bleed into the rest of his hand so much so that it might’ve been broken.

"'M good... You, though?" He let out a bit of a growl to clear his throat before deciding to cut straight to the chase: you’d come here in the middle of the night, in the rain, by yourself. As much as he was being an idiot right now, the amount of times he’d told you to not do any of those things, pleaded with you even, was making you look like the delirious one in his eyes. Miles was being stubborn, but he knew you were worse.

“You insane…?” he muttered, taking a step away from the bag. “Did Aaron tell you to come here or sumn’?"

"No, he was supposed to be with you," you shot back, eyes narrowing at him from under your hood before thunder bellowed from all around. The rain was growing into a loud static noise, and your voice was muffled as your expression grew more exasperated. "You came home 3 days ago and you didn't even text me. Yeah, I probably should've texted you, and I tried, but now you're here training alone again when your mom thinks you're with Aaron and—"

"You come here to scold me?" His jaw crunched a little as he tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Miles wasn’t trying to be mad at you — he was just mad in general. It just so happened to be in your direction right now.

“Huh? No, I came here because you scared the hell out of me — and Aaron told me to not let you break into his place.”

If it was supposed to be funny, the laugh he let out was anything but amused. At least Aaron wasn’t here for him to disappoint too, or get a weirdly-phrased life lesson from, or both. “Well I’m not breakin’ in, and I told you, I’m good, so I don’t get why you’re still here.”

You stepped a little closer, and Miles’ heels dug into the ground to keep himself from moving. “Isn’t it obvious? Or are you just being difficult on purpose?”

“Difficult?” he mirrored dryly, trying to push back the growing exhaustion clouding his head.

“Can you not just take a break for once? It’s over, Miles; you already won—”

“I didn’t win.” The walls echoed with his voice, words having escaped on their own. It wasn’t at you, but he didn’t know what he was mad at, resolve fading as he watched your face straighten with realisation.

“Don’t tell me that’s why you’re here…”

His fingers unconsciously clawed into the boxing glove, pain shoot through his hand. Nothing came out of his mouth, but his silence was loud — incriminating. That was the reason, right? That he didn't win?

“Kid didn’t stand a chance.” What was the point of you being here?

“A one-punch concussion — on a newbie, no less.” It was over, like you said.

“It’s a shame, I bet on him too.” Everyone had given up on him.

“You should be resting right now— you’re shaking, Miles.” So why wouldn't you?

“No ‘m not…” is all he could muster, flexing his shoulders uncomfortably. Your hand was on his arm before he could realise, and he was met with a stern look as he tried to keep his gaze from shaking too.

The velcro on his gloves crunched as you started undoing them, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop you. It’s not like he had the energy.

“You coulda’ got hurt on your way here.” The croak in his voice made him sound more hopeless than reprimanding as you slipped off the first glove, pausing half-way down his palm. His bare palm.

“…I could’ve got hurt?” Miles held back a sigh as he was made to look at his own hand. Bruised, blackened, branded with anger — it hurt more to look at it than anything. “You didn’t wear your wraps?”

The other glove slid off, revealing the fresh, festering swelling coming from his middle knuckle — the aftermath of that sickening cracking noise. You took his curled hand, easing up his middle finger and making him hiss under his breath.

“Think you can straighten it?” you muttered, gently trying to do it yourself only to lose his hand from your grip.

“’S gonna be fine,” he mumbled, eyes fixed to the side as his hand closed back up.

“It won’t if you can’t move it properly.”

“You a doctor now?”

“Nah, but your mom’s a nurse.” You carefully held his hand by palm, thumb tracing over the tender, split skin, his fingers wrapping around the side of your hand in futile protest. He’d have to bother his mom again — he didn’t even think about that. “You basically just punched yourself.”

Everything you were saying was right — it always was. He hated that fact.

“You a boxing expert too?” he thought to retort.

“Thought that was supposed to be you.” Miles’ eyes narrowed, and yours narrowed in response. “I don’t get it, baby...” you sighed, shaking your head a little as you put down the gloves to the side.

Baby. His breath almost hitched. You were dating, and it didn’t even seem like it anymore. Not after all those weeks apart. The word didn’t even feel endearing, it was condescending, like he didn’t deserve it. Maybe he was being a baby, and maybe he always had been. You were the one who always had to drag him out of this make-shift gym. Right now was no different, except…

“…Why are you still doing this?” he heard you mutter, still turned away with his hand in your grip. You didn’t even know the half of it.

“Why are you still here?” His hand tried to slip away again, but you only took it by the wrist instead, now facing him.

“Why won’t you answer my questions, Miles?” Your voice deadened into a whisper, only serving to frustrate him.

“I don’t know why you care so much.” He let out a quiet huff, staring at your hand when your grip ceased to relax.

“I care because you look like you’re about to pass out and I can’t let my boyfriend kill himself over something stupid—”

“I’m not killing myse—” A pained groan escaped his mouth as you ruthlessly pushed up his injured finger.

“Don’t push me, Miles.” Oh, you were serious.

“You’re pushin’ sumn’,” he strained through gritted teeth. “Mierda… quit it already.”

The pain tore on another moment, and he was just now realising how bad it actually hurt. All you were doing was staring at him, brows knitted together. “Cariño, please…” he whispered, a wince forming on his face.

Your hand loosened, and he let out a quiet, frustrated, somewhat relieved sigh.

Still a sucker for nice words... He didn’t say them as much as he would’ve liked.

“You need to take a time out,” you stated after a beat of silence. The expression on your face was serious again, killing any sense of tenderness you might’ve shown.

He freed his hand from your grip with the opportunity, before giving you a dubious look. “Like, for kids?”

“Like for boxers, dumbass.” Your gaze followed his retreating hand for a moment before falling back on his eyes. “But if you want me to treat you like a kid…”

“I’m good.” Another roar of thunder rang out before he could add anything, and the rain was so heavy that anything you could see from the windows became a blur.

“…You got your jacket?” you suggested, without much hope.

The idea only made Miles’ eyes squeeze shut again. A shallow exhale left him, and he tried not to let his fatigue cloud his judgement. If he kept talking stupid to you, he’d probably have worse to worry about than a broken knuckle. “You think imma go outside?”

All you could do was sigh. It seemed like the two of you would be in “time out” for a while.

🕸️🔭👾

thank you for reading part 2 soon but then again its not my fav fic in the world 💔 i rewrote this like 8 trillion times and it still wasn't clicking for me 😭 idk i just got sick of editing it again and again

this isn't as short as my usual fics because i felt like i needed to add context... I've never written an au or anything remotely original so this is just yeah... im tryna figure it out! i have . too much lore for this au

reblogs appreciated lmk if you did like it (i hope this is someone's cup of tea lmao)

catch my atsv masterlist here !

[ephemeral--dreams]

Alhaitham, Cyno, Kokomi; when you get injured.

☆ ☾ ☆ ──────────────────

Alhaitham

He had anticipated an average day. Showing up to work, finishing whatever he needed to, and then spending his time reading for the remainder of the afternoon.

In other words, he hadn't thought he'd be wrestling answers out of a pair of scholars after hearing your name in passing.

"Do you want to tell me why I had to find out you were injured through gossip?" Is the first thing Alhaitham asks as he enters the room, tone fairly neutral despite the accusatory nature of his words. You blink at him from where you sit, covered in bandages, but awake and aware, at least. Not as bad as he'd worried it would be.

If he was more prone to outbursts of emotion, he might've burst in here and scolded you. He might've felt panic when he'd found out you were hurt. He might've been relieved when he found you seemed to be relatively okay.

…Alhaitham tells himself he felt none of that.

"…I didn't want to bother you. You get annoyed when you get interrupted unnecessarily, right?"

He falls silent. So that was it. You weren't wrong, exactly, but… He'd hardly call it an interruption, when it was about your health and safety. He knew he didn't make his emotions obvious, but he'd thought you had enough sense to realize he cared about you. He wouldn't have put up with you being around for so long if he didn't.

"You're an idiot," is all he says, preoccupying himself with making sure you've been taken care of properly, hands brushing surprisingly gently over you. Archons know that the Akademiya is filled with stupid people, even the healers can't be trusted with you… "If you're bothering me, you know I wouldn't hold back on telling you. Don't make needless assumptions."

"Maybe I am. Sorry," you sit patiently as he examines you, his concern unspoken as always, but obvious in his actions. As harsh as he could be at times, it was moments like this in which you were reminded that he could be softer... Occasionally. "I'm okay, really. You don't need to worry."

Alhaitham doesn't quite believe you - the way he watches over you more closely for the next few weeks makes it abundantly clear. But you can't exactly complain about having his attention, even if you had to get hurt for it to happen…

Cyno

Cyno is… Well aware that injuries are something that happen. He faces dangerous situations on a regular basis. Often, he himself is the danger.

This isn't the same, however. As much as he hates anyone else getting injured under his watch, when it's you, it feels exponentially worse. It should never, ever happen. If he could protect criminals from getting hurt in their own stupidity as they ran from him, couldn't he protect you even better?

…Apparently not, considering the pained sounds you let out under your breath and he carried you to get medical attention. This was what he got for getting distracted with work while you were together, wasn't it? Target apprehended, but not without you getting caught up in it all.

"It's only a broken leg, Cyno. You don't need to look so guilty."

"It happened because of me," his voice is tense, just as tense as his arms around you feel.

You don't get the chance to reply, commotion beginning the moment the two of you arrive. Then it's Tighnari fussing over you, Collei's worried face in the background, and no sign of Cyno.

It's not until a few hours later when he shows up, moonlight glinting off his silent form. If you were any less used to his presence, you'd have been startled by how he appeared so suddenly. As it is, you take it in stride.

"I don't blame you, you know, but when you disappear like that I end up being the one who's worried…"

All he can think is - you're far too forgiving. Though perhaps that was why he was drawn to you in the first place. A pure soul, one not infected by a greed for knowledge or money or power, as many around him were. You are too good for him, but here the two of you are, regardless.

You huff at his lack of reply, reaching to take his hand, tugging him closer. "I'm fine, see? Stop brooding and come sit with me. You can even tell me some of your jokes if it'll make you feel better."

You were the one supposed to be getting reassured here… But if it was what you wanted, he'd acquiesce. "…Fine. I will."

Kokomi

Kokomi feels her heart nearly stop in her chest at the sight of you bloodied and unconscious. Yet she keeps her calm until she's taken you to a quieter place, away from the sight of the shrine maidens.

During the rebellion, one of the worst parts of it all had been watching people get injured under her command. Injuries happened during war. It was inevitable. But it still brought a terrible feeling of helplessness.

Which is exactly what she's feeling now. It was worse because it was someone so dear to her who was hurt, this time. It was a harsh reminder of both your fragility, and of the fact that even during times of peace, harm could still befall you and everyone else.

Being the one to watch over watatsumi is a burdensome responsibility.

But if nothing else, she'd been blessed with the ability to heal. So that's what she does, the blue light of hydro washing over all your wounds until they slowly fade.

It doesn't quite feel good enough. Regardless of them being gone, she will remember they were there. You will remember the pain. But it is what it is, and acceptance is more productive than reminiscence.

Kokomi remains next to you, watching the way your breaths rise and fall like the waves hitting and retreating from the shore.

She's still there when you wake.

"Do you feel better? It was concerning when you returned in that state."

Your smile is far too bright for the situation. "Much better."

"You need to be more careful. If I wasn't around…" Kokomi hesitates, the sort of sight only you are allowed. Hesitation had no place in the demeanor of the divine priestess, but if it was just you…

"I knew you would take care of me," you reach out to press a kiss to her lips, and she allows the reassurance - that you are still here with her.

[tamelee]

Just a little rant about HOW MUCH I FUCKING HATE NARUTO FANBOYS OH MY GAAWWWDDDD besides the obvious reasons (homophobia, misogyny, incels) they worship the shit outta the worse characters ever like Shikamaru and Itachi and Hinata. Like I just saw on the Naruto Reddit (my fault, I know, but I searched something up about Naruto and the first link discussing that was Reddit) and they all used that stupid dumbass filler where Shikamaru was asking his dad about Naruto and why everyone hates him and how he doesn't hate him (even tho in CANON he did 😤) and they all said not only is he a better friend to Naruto than Sasuke ever was but (here we go again) Sasuke's more of a brother 🙄 and they also said Sasuke treated Naruto like trash and was the worst friend 🤦🏻‍♀️ like it's so insane to me the dudebros lack of brain and reading comprehension. Like how do you as a grown ass man not know the difference between what's actually real and what's not about what you're watching? Or maybe it's that they just hate Sasuke so much and how much Naruto loves him and keeps talking about him and how he's his best friend in canon (he said it way too much for me to believe that even these ugly incels couldn't understand) that they'd rather give the credit to someone else that isn't a threat and doesn't make Naruto act borderline homosexual. Oh and they obviously ignore Shikamaru's blatant misogyny and still consider him the best thing ever because why would they care 🙄 anyway end rant, sorry. I just hate this fandom 😭 I stay on my side of things mostly (well, other than this one time. But when I do I just rant about it to someone and move on)

Ah yeah it’s frustrating isn’t it? 

I think it’s obvious if you’ve read the Manga. I wonder if they’ve only seen the Anime and just don’t bother checking what is canon first. So much is changed from Kishimoto’s original. (Has anyone seen that twt discussion on filler? I’d love to read your opinions on it.) 

I mean, Hinata’s supposed backstory with Naruto is just ridiculous, but I don’t understand why people think Naruto was friends with any of them? Even if it’s shown in filler that Naruto was around them or they asked their parents about Naruto... what makes fans say they were friends? 

Sasuke was the only one who acknowledged Naruto with a smile and they weren't even friends until much later.

Right before the exams, Shikamaru tells team 7 not to die. Not because he’s worried for them, but because he believes they’re not capable, largely because of his lack of faith in Naruto. While Naruto calls them idiots and insults both Shikamaru and Hinata as he introduces them to the reader. 

'A big mouth idiot' and a 'weirdo' (I believe he actually also called her creepy but I can't find the translation, but remember when Kushina told Naruto not to go for a weird girl? She used the same words xD) And then Shikamaru immediately wanted to target Naruto in the forest of death.

Had either of them at any point been friendly to Naruto or whatever, then we would’ve known here and Naruto wouldn’t have insulted them like he did (as is his right) because he craved a connection more than anything. It’s ridiculous how the Anime at times just blatantly ignores the lonely misery Naruto had to grow up in (ALONE) in favor of these other characters. As if sugarcoating that would make any of them look less bad. And don't get me started on Hinata during that written test because it's no wonder Naruto got so confused and didn't trust her "kindness".

Regardless, I think a lot of Naruto-fans who tend to glorify any of these friendships and extending it for what it is largely do so because they side with a narrative regarding the system and don't get why Sasuke (and others) challenged it in the first place. Brushing it off like it was some evil, selfish thing. I personally like Shikamaru's development and who he is as a character in the end because him showing change might've been very helpful in actually changing the system had they worked towards that. But you know... we'll never know.

[missnxthingg]

Just for Tonight | Xavier Thorpe

Summary: Xavier Thorpe might not be best friends with (Y/N), but when he sees her crying at the Rave'N, he couldn't help it but go talk to her

A/N: So might obsession with Xavier Thorpe and Wednesday might've gone too far. So this is my fanfic comeback - in another fandom. I still don't have a taglist for Xavier, but let me know if you want to be tagged in future potential fics. OH, AND PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS FOR HIM! I wanna write, but I don't have inspos right now. (EDIT: If it wasn't explicit enough, I DO NOT ALLOW ANYONE TO REPOST MY STORIES ON ANY OTHER ACCOUNTS. If you wanna read my stories on Wattpad, you can follow me there [@missnxthingg])

Words: 2.5K

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Female!Reader

Warnings: Not proof read, so there might be some typos. I think there might be a few cursings. But other than that, just a little bit of enemies to lovers that we're all found of

main masterlist | main blog | taglist

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Xavier Thorpe hated (Y/N) (Y/L/N). That wasn't news to anyone in Nevermore. He hated how smart she was and how she seemed to be friends with everyone around her. He got easily annoyed with her mere presence in the room. But tonight, something different sparkled inside him when he saw her leaving the room crying.

She had been excited for the Rave'N since they announced a date. She got even more excited when Harry McGowan invited her as his date. Enid dragged her and Wednesday for a shopping spree, where she found a beautiful baby blue dress. Everything was perfect, until Harry dumped her right after they arrived at the dance for one of Yoko's vampire friends.

(Y/N)'s golden and happy aura dissipated immediately after those words came out of Harry's mouth. She ran out of the room with tears in her eyes. She just didn't count that Xavier Thorpe was sitting alone at a table, watching the whole thing unfold in front of his eyes. 

After a huge fight with his father, he decided he wasn't in the mood to invite someone to the dance as a date. Actually, he was only sitting there because Ajax would kill him if he didn't tag along. But when his best friend got occupied with his own date, Xavier was left sipping on virgin punch, that tasted more like cough syrup, on the dining table

So when (Y/N) ran across the room, something clicked inside Xavier's head. His chest got heavy and he immediately shot up from his seat and ran after her. She was crying alone in the corner, sitting on the floor close to the toilets.

He ducked in front of her, who now had her face between her knees, shielding it from anyone else to see her crying. But Xavier let a hand fly to her shoulder, making (Y/N) look up.

"Hey, are you okay?" His voice sounded softer than any of the other times he talked to her. Anyone could hear how worried Xavier was at that moment. (Y/N) looked up and found his piercing green eyes observing her with attention.

"No." She admitted, crying a little bit harder. "But I don't think you would like to hear about it. You can't stand me, after all."

"Come on, you're crying. I would never, ever, walk away from you like this." He said. "And I don't hate you, even if you don't believe it. Maybe you could try pretending I'm a friend to you."

(Y/N) stayed silent, looking at his face to decide what to do, until she nodded "Harry McGowan ditched me for one of Yoko's friends. Said she was hotter and that he didn't want to be my date anymore."

"What a fucking asshole, I'm gonna beat the shit out of him." Xavier's jaw clenched and he quickly shot up to go talk to Harry. But (Y/N) ran after him and held him by the elbow.

"No, Xavier! Please, it would be worse to end the night at Weems' office talking about what happened." She said and his eyes softened when he saw that she was crying harder now. (Y/N)'s eyeliner was smudged, almost ruining the soft, but pretty, makeup she was wearing.

"Do you have eyeliner with you?" He asked and she nodded, pointing to her purse. "Okay, let's go find a restroom."

Fortunately, the men's restroom was empty. Xavier took her by the hand and helped her sit on the sink to get a better vision of her face. He took a few paper wipes and started planning what he would do next.

"What are you doing?" She asked and he shushed her.

"Taking care of you." He said. "No pretty girl deserves to cry at the Rave'N."

"Suddenly I'm a pretty girl to you?" She asked. "You literally shouted how annoying I am for the whole school to hear countless of times. And now you're taking care of me?"

"I don't know, (Y/N)." He said, taking the paper to clean the smudge makeup spots on her face. "I saw you crying and I couldn't take it. I needed to see if you were okay."

(Y/N) could see how honest he was from up close. Xavier was concentrated on his job, fixing the makeup like the very detailed artist he is. So she simply decided to believe his words and let him do his job.

"You shouldn't cry, though. Harry's an idiot for thinking anyone else looks prettier than you tonight." He said. "He's just wrong."

"You think so?"

"Are you kidding me? Look at you." Xavier laughed. His pretty dimples showed on his face, making (Y/N) smile. "You look amazing, (Y/N)."

"Thank you." She said. 

Now Xavier had her pen eyeliner in hands and asked her to close her eyes. Doing this was easier than he thought it would be. It's like paiting details on a canvas. Soon he was done and (Y/N) was back to how she looked when she first crossed the entrance.

"Where's your date?" 

"Didn't invited anyone." He admitted. "I'm having a few problems with my dad and I wasn't in the mood for partying. Ajax dragged me here tonight."

"I'm so sorry." (Y/N) rested a hand on his shoulder and smiled sadly. "I'm here if you wanna talk."

"It's stupid. We're always arguing about his absence in my life. But he doesn't agree with me because he believes money is enough." (Y/N) saw his eyes brimming with tears and didn't hesitate in pulling him into a hug. Xavier was surprised at first, but easily melted into her touch.

"I think both of us needed this tonight." She whispered in his ear.

"I think we did." He replied, holding her a little tighter, afraid she would let go too soon. Xavier didn't know he needed someone to be there for him until that moment.

It's been a while since anyone hugged him. It felt so warm and nice, especially coming from (Y/N). So he rested his head above hers and sighed, trying to not fall into a heavier cry. This wasn't about him. He was there to comfort her.

"I'm sorry." He started, his head still comfortably resting above hers. "For being a dick with you all the time. You're not a bad person."

"It's okay, I was an idiot too." She said back, still holding him close to her. "You're not bad, either. Actually, I have to say thank you for comforting me tonight."

"It was nothing." He giggled during his crying. "No one deserves to miss the dance because of some stupid boy." 

"Then dance with me." She leaned back and looked him in the eyes. (Y/N) wiped the tears from Xavier's face, making him smile. And so, he offered his hand to help her off the restroom's sink.

"It will be my pleasure." He pulled her back to the room where everyone was having a good time. 

Of course, the duo walking into the room together brought a lot of attention to them. Most people were surprised to see them holding hands, not choking each other's throats. Xavier and (Y/N) danced to a lot of upbeat songs and some good classics through the night, making everything they went through that night disappear. But when a slow song started, things changed.

"I don't know how to slow dance." She admitted and Xavier's eyes softened.

"I'll teach you." He pulled her in, one hand resting on her hip and the other one holding hers. (Y/N) left her free hand on his shoulder, but still was very far away from him. "Come on, I don't bite."

Feeling her cheeks heat up, (Y/N) took a step forward and got closer to Xavier. He pulled her even closer a few seconds later, making it perfectly intimate.

"This is good." He whispered. "Now we just sway to the song. There's no secret recipe to slow dance.

"Okay." She smiled at him and started following his steps to the song. Xavier never felt so relaxed in his life and he didn't know why.

But when (Y/N) rested her face on his chest, he knew why he felt so relaxed. He was with her, after all. And suddenly, all the months filled with hatred and fights became clear to him: he only got annoyed because he liked her. Now that they let their guards down, it was easy to see it.

And oh, he was so close. Xavier could just lean down and kiss her right there. But he couldn't. He didn't want their kiss to be judged by everyone watching around. Not to mention that (Y/N) looked so peaceful with her eyes closed, swaying her body to the music.

"I thought my night was ruined, but you really turned it around, Xavi."

"Xavi?" He asked, a little surprised by the way she called him.

"It's a nickname, don't you like it?" She asked and he smiled.

"I do." He said. "It's just, I'm not used to it. But it's a cute nickname."

"Like the owner." She smiled up to him and Xavier could swear he would die right there. He just wanted to kiss her, but he didn't want to do it in a crowded room.

"Can I take you somewhere?"

She frowned in confusion, but trusted him to take her somewhere private. And they walked for a few minutes until reaching a small shed in the woods. (Y/N) knew it was his private art studio, but she had never stepped inside. It was like walking into Xavier's mind, one of the most different experiences in her life. They had their hands linked together, fingers laced and everything. He searched for some reaction on her face.

"This is my studio." He said. "I think that if we are being vulnerable tonight, this is the place where I am vulnerable all the time."

"Everything in here is amazing." She took a good look at some of his sketches pinned on the wall, admiring most of them.

"I have a drawing of you." He admitted. "Bigger than I'd like to admit."

Xavier uncovered a canvas and showed (Y/N) a big painting of her, focusing on her book at the library and scrunching her nose in concentration. He smiled to remember the day he sketched that, another bad afternoon she turned around just by existing.

"I was so fucking sad that day. I was pissed and wanted to be alone. But of course, my Miss Perfect was at the library." He said. "But you were just so concentrated in your book, looking beautiful as hell, and didn't even notice me in the room. So I just started drawing you in silence and it made me feel better."

"I look so beautiful in this one."

"You always do. I think that's your superpower." He giggled. "And it's my favorite painting here. I love everything about it."

"I think it just became my favorite too." She said with a big smile. "You never really hated me, did you?"

"I think it was just me failing on how to express my feelings." He said. "My communication only works through art."

"Well, if you're gonna continue drawing me, then you'll have to stop with the stupid fights over nothing." She poked his chest, teasing him with a pretty smirk.

"Never again, promise you." He extended his pinky and she took it with her own finger. "Thank you for the company tonight."

"No, thank you for consoling me tonight." (Y/N) said. "I really needed someone to take care of me at that moment and I'm glad it was you."

"Yeah, I'm glad too." He smiled. "You know, when I saw you crying, I just couldn't take it. I wanted to take care of you."

"You did, Xavi." She held his face between her hands and he glued his forehead to hers. "And I'll always remember this as the night you were there for me."

Xavier was paralyzed by her gaze, so he didn't talk for a few seconds until he said: "I really want to kiss you right now."

(Y/N) replied by pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss. Xavier was mesmerized by how she tasted in his mouth, but easily grew fond of that new feeling. So he deepened the kiss by tugging her on the waist and pulling her closer to him. She parted her lips and he easily captured her tongue in a bolder move. She smiled into the kiss, but didn't stop it for a second. But after a long time slowly making out in the quiet night, Xavier had to pull away.

"God, you're so beautiful." He put a stray of her hair behind her ear and smiled wider.

"You said that like three times tonight."

"Just can't help myself." He joked, making her laugh. "Especially when you're out there serving looks in this amazing dress."

"Well, you're not far behind." (Y/N) fixed the bow he wrapped around his neck to substitute the usual tie. Xavier got to see every detail from her face by looking at her so close to him.

"Come on, I'll walk you back to your dorm." He extended a hand to her and she whined, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. 

"Don't want tonight to end." She whispered and he hugged her tightly. "Can we stay here?"

"You have to sleep, beautiful." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "And I'll be here tomorrow. We can have breakfast together and we can hang around here. What do you think?"

"I think that would be great."

He captured her lips in one last kiss and softly dragged her out of the shed. Most students were getting back from the party at that time. Xavier and (Y/N) took their time on the walk back, arms linked and casual conversation making everything nicer. 

When they got back to Ophelia Hall, Xavier was glad Thornhill was still at the party. So he got to take (Y/N) up to her room, where they shared a few more goodbye kisses when no one was around. 

"Thank you for everything tonight." She fixed the collar of his shirt and smiled. "When everything turned to shit, you made it all perfect again."

"I had an amazing time with you." He admitted. "I'm glad we get to be friends after everything we went through."

"I think we skipped a few steps on this new friendship." She laughed and he tagged along before pecking her lips again.

"Don't really care right now." He said. "We can be friends that kiss each other."

"I can take it." She kissed him again until they heard someone coming in the hall.

"Hey, good night, beautiful." He kissed her forehead and smiled down at her. "I'll see you tomorrow for breakfast.

"Good night, Xavi." She returned his gesture with a kiss on the cheek. "Sleep tight."

"I'll be thinking of you." He shouted from the end of the hall, making (Y/N) giggled.

"Me too." She shouted back before entering her room again.

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[heyiwrotesomethings]

Oh!!! It's a good thing I was staying up late or else I might've missed this!! (Oh god this got a lil long, I'm so sorry ajdgskahd)

Using she/her, how about a kakegurui one where R(eader) is a relative of Yumeko's, maybe her sister (or cousin could work too), and it's like. Yumeko's the fun loving one, her canon sister I imagine is the calm one, and R is like the angry takes no shit from anyone type, and she's there to watch over Yumeko's trouble attracting ass to keep her inline, so to focus on that, she doesn't gamble (Yumeko does enough of that for both of them) but now that's making trouble turn to R instead in the form of an infuriating Kirari, R like back talks to her and would probably bite a hand that gets too close if she has to, and when Kirari in one (underhanded) way or another manages to corner R into a gambling match with some poor soul so Kirari can observe her, R shows that she's just as good and insane as her relatives (though calms down faster?) , aaaahh I don't know what else to add on or how to end this, can't think much this late so here you go!! I hope you have fun!!

The Jabami Blood Flows

Jabami Sister Reader, Yumeko Jabami and Kirari Momobami (Platonic)

A/N: Here it is! Sorry I didn’t really get into the gamble. I couldn’t make myself research exactly how craps works and I’m not smart enough to calculate any math or cheats. The canon gambling timeline might be a little messed up too because it’s been awhile… But I think I captured the spirit of what you were asking for. Thanks for reading! Word Count: 2,523

(Y/n) couldn’t remember what life was like when her parents were alive, nor could she really remember what her oldest sister Souko was like before Yumeko had to send her away to live in that special hospital. All she knew was that life as a Bami was eat or be eaten, take or be taken from, and she hated it.

When Yumeko told (Y/n) of her plans to transfer to Hyakkaou, she was dead set against her going. That was where she went to school, Momobami Kirari. The one who had a hand in their older sister’s decline in mental health along with their own aunt. However, nothing that she said to Yumeko could get her to change her mind. So (Y/n) did what any good and responsible sister would do and filled out her own transfer papers so she could tag along.

It was difficult keeping track of Yumeko when they were two years apart, especially when the middle school was in a separate wing of the sprawling building.

But after she had heard about Yumeko becoming a house pet within the first week, (Y/n) had nearly blown a gasket. In retaliation, she quickly sized up the casino disguised as a school and realized the students could do basically whatever they wanted. (Y/n) was disciplined, a diligent worker and good student, so she got all of her schoolwork ahead of time and did it at home so she could keep an eye on Yumeko throughout the day.

She allowed Yumeko to take part in the Debt Swapping Game to undo the damage she had done to herself and her “new friend” Saotome, but after that (Y/n) was all over her… not that her nagging was very affective, unfortunately.

“You’re so cute when you pout!” Yumeko gushed, squeezing (Y/n)’s cheeks.

(Y/n) grabbed her sister’s wrists and groaned, “Neesan, I’m serious! No more gambling! We have the money, pay off the debt so you can stop wearing that ridiculous tag!”

“Sweet little sister, always looking out for me. You don’t worry so much, okay? I want to keep this tag just for awhile longer.”

“Why? It makes no sense, people treat you worse than an animal!” (Y/n) only got more upset the longer this conversation dragged on, “Get rid of it!”

“I’m not going to do that,” Yumeko smiled, somehow so carefree, “it makes for some really interesting gambles!”

“You’re so stupid!” (Y/n) suddenly yelled, finally shocking the smile off of Yumeko’s face, replaced by mild surprise, “It’s like you want to end up like Oneesan, you want to leave me all alone!”

“(Y/n)—“ Yumeko reached out her hand to (Y/n) but she ran passed her and kept running until she found an empty classroom to cry in.

She couldn’t cry forever though, and soon fell into a quiet, simmering anger that began to boil the more she thought about how their lives had come to this.

“Momobami Kirari.” She hissed hatefully. She ruined Souko and was in the process of taking Yumeko away from her too. Well, (Y/n) wasn’t going to standby quietly.

She wiped her eyes and and stood up, tromping through the halls, she followed the signs until she came to the Student Council room and without bothering to knock, she pushed the door open with a loud thump, making the pair that resided within look up.

“You can’t just charge in here like that!” Sayaka was quick to reprimand.

But Kirari put up a hand, “Don’t be troubled, Sayaka. It’s just one of my dear little cousins paying me a visit. I’d recognize a Jabami anywhere. Care for tea, (Y/n)? I haven’t seen you since you were quite small, you’ve grown a lot.”

“Jabami…” Sayaka’s mood soured a bit more. One Jabami was already one snake too many.

“And you look very cute in the middle school uniform.” Kirari continued on, tilting her head towards Sayaka, “I remember your middle school days Sayaka, you looked very cute in that uniform too, although this one is nice as well.” She tugged on the hem of Sayaka’s jacket for emphasis.

“Thah- thank you, President.” And like that, Sayaka was subdued, but still a little wary of their impromptu guest.

“I don’t want your stupid tea, or small talk!” (Y/n) yelled. “I want you to get rid of the house pet system!”

“You can’t just storm in here and demand such a thing!” Sayaka bristled.

“Ah, is Yumeko refusing to pay off her debt?” Kirari sat back in her chair slightly, “Unfortunately for you, I’m not inclined to accept your request. Your sister is just too fun to watch.”

“I hate you!” (Y/n) seethed, Kirari’s eyes widened, but it was clear amusement rather than surprise at the outburst, “I hate what the Bami clan is under your rule! If it was someone else— if things could have been different— My parents would be alive, Souko wouldn’t be in the hospital and you wouldn’t be trying to take Yumeko from me right now! I hate gambling! I hate that when people gamble, they are risking the happiness of people they are supposed to care about too! I hate you for pitting everyone against each other all the time! You have the power to stop all this before we all destroy each other for good, but you don’t use it, and I despise you for it!”

“Oh my,” Kirari cupped her between her thumb and index fingers, “so much resentment for a girl so young. Are you sure you aren’t Saotome’s little sister?” She chuckled.

“This isn’t funny!”

“Is it not? I find it a bit amusing at least. For someone with Jabami blood flowing through her veins, you are very adamantly going against your nature. It’s interesting. You might be one to watch as well.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I think Yumemi has plans for your sister today. You might want to start making your way to the auditorium to cheer her on.” Kirari said instead, steepling her fingers in front of her coral blue lips.

A look of realization and then dread fell over (Y/n)’s face. She gave Kirari one more glare, then bolted from the student council room.

“What a rude girl!” Sayaka huffed. “Has she no respect for upperclassmen at all?”

“Easy Sayaka,” Kirari soothed with a teasing lilt, “I think my week just became a little more interesting.”

***

In the days after Yumeko’s admittedly unique gamble against Yumemi, (Y/n) had taken to giving her dear older sister the cold shoulder. It made Yumeko sad and pouty of course, but until she could promise (Y/n) that she was done gambling for good, (Y/n) refused to talk to her. She started going back to her classes like normal instead of following her sister around and did her best not to think about all the bad situations Yumeko could be putting herself through.

But she couldn’t ignore her sister for long, not when an unfamiliar upperclassman came to her classroom to summon her for a gamble. Apparently, Yumeko had got herself in a lot more trouble than (Y/n) had dared thought possible, or so the house pet had claimed.

“Where is she? Yumeko!” (Y/n) ran into the room, only turning around when she heard the door lock behind her. “Hey! What are you doing? Open the door!”

“That was a lot easier than I thought it would be.”

(Y/n) whipped her head to the back of the room to see a tired looking upperclassman, another house pet, sitting at a fancy craps table in front of a large mirror that almost took up the whole wall.

“I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this to get back at Jabami for what she and Saotome did to me at that damn debt swapping game. You’re her little sister, right? What am I saying, of course you are.”

“What do you want? Who are you?” (Y/n) asked defensively.

“Kiwatari Jun.” The upperclassman answered with a smirk, “And I’m gonna turn you into a house pet.”

“Like hell you are. You can’t force someone into a gamble unless they are part of the council. Unlock the door.” (Y/n) commanded, but Jun chuckled darkly.

“You’re right, I can’t make you do anything, but the door is locked from the outside, and I don’t have the key.”

“Then I guess we’re just stuck here forever until we die.” (Y/n) hotly retorted.

“Not the case,” he knocked on the mirror behind him. “See this, it’s a one way window. People can see us, but we can’t see them. Once we gamble, someone will come and let us out.”

“I’m not going to gamble you.”

“You will. Word is your sister is going on a gambling tear without you yapping in her ear. She’s got a real big gamble coming up today with that crazy Beautification Committee officer. You know, the one who likes swinging a gun around.”

“Yumeko already gambled her and was disappointed. She wants nothing to do with Ikishima now.” (Y/n) had really hated that gamble. It was exceedingly frightening. She was glad Yumeko had been put off by Midari’s recklessness in some shape.

“She came up with a new gamble that really has your sister going. Safe to say she’s giving her another chance. I don’t expect you to believe me, but is it really a risk your willing to take? If you aren’t there… you might not see her again.”

(Y/n)’s blood froze. She didn’t want to believe this guy, in fact, she was sure he was lying, but her fear of losing Yumeko was stronger than reason. Saving Yumeko was the only thing she could think of that was truly worth gambling for…

“What is the game?” She finally asked through gritted teeth.

“Craps,” he swept his arm over the table, “A simple dice game, what do you say?”

“I want to test the dice.”

Jun exhaled though his nose, “Not a gambler, huh? You sure seem to know what to look for.”

“When you grow up in the world that I have, you can’t help but pick up a thing or two.” (Y/n) sat down at the opposite side of the table, she could feel her heartbeat picking up like it would at the starting line of a race, or before reading a speech in class. She hated the feeling. She hated how her body loved the feeling. The excitement of doing something that felt totally crazy.

Despite not remembering her mother very well, she was definitely her daughter. That blood flowed through her veins as it did with Yumeko and Souko. A red glow briefly reflected off of her eyes.

“Are we doing this, or not?”

All of Jun’s little tricks were exposed round after round, but even if (Y/n) had let them slide, she was rolling perfectly every time, a skill she had picked up by merely watching Souko practice as a toddler, just a baby even. If she wasn’t so dead set against gambling, she could probably be making millions of yen a week. Her playing style reminded Jun more of Mary, but every once in awhile, she’d make an absolutely insane call that could only be something a Jabami would ever think to do.

It didn’t take long before all of the money the student council had leant him was on the other side of the table and with it, his dreams of freeing himself from his house pet chains. Now he was another four million yen in the hole.

“No… you’re just a snot-nosed middle schooler!” He hissed, pounding his fists against the table, making the dice and chips clink together. “I was supposed to win.”

“Idiot.” (Y/n) smirked, the red gleam appeared in her eyes once more, “Don’t you know nothing is guaranteed in gambling, nothing but disappointment for someone anyway.” She got up from her chair, not even caring to take her winnings with her. “A pity a had to lose my no gambling streak because of you. You weren’t even a challenge.”

She walked over to the door, pleased to see it was already opening in anticipation of her approach. She was a little surprised to see it was Sayaka who opened the door, however. She was even more surprised when Sayaka pulled her forward and a zapping noise met her ears, followed by a heavy object hitting the ground. She turned to see Jun curled up on the floor and saw the taser in Sayaka’s hand. He must have been coming up to attack her for humiliating him so badly.

“You never learn, do you, Kiwatari?” Sayaka tisked, “Lose with dignity for once.”

“Thank you for the show, Jabami (Y/n).” Kirari rounded the corner seconds later. She must have been watching from the other side of the glass. Suddenly this impromptu gamble was making a lot more sense. Jun didn’t seem smart enough to come up with a scheme like this himself.

“I should have paired you up with someone interesting, but I wanted to see what I was working with first. You did not disappoint. We will have to do something like this again soon.”

“No way,” (Y/n) could already feel herself coming down from the brief high of gambling a upperclassman into submission, “I’m not going to let you catch me in a position like this again. No way in hell! Yumeko isn’t even in trouble, is she?”

Kirari smiled, “No, she’s not. However, I’m sure I could make an offer or two you simply would not be able to refuse. Whether it’s to forbid your sister from gambling in this school again, ending the house pet system, dethroning me as student council president, or even as the head of the Bami clan, I’m sure we could work something out. I think it would be really exciting for us to gamble one day.”

(Y/n) hated the shiver of excitement that ran up her spine. There were a couple of options in that short list she wouldn’t mind seeing to fruition, yet she shook her head and bumped into Kirari as she passed her.

“Just stay away from me!”

“I’ll be seeing you around, (Y/n). Have a good rest of your day.” Kirari waved, watching (Y/n) stomp away with amusement.

***

“Oh, (Y/n)?” Yumeko was surprised that after days of the cold shoulder, (Y/n) had sought her out for a hug, but she was very happy for the suprise affection to say the least and instantly returned the embrace. “You’re being so sweet to me! What brought this on, I wonder?”

“Don’t gamble with Ikishima ever again, got it?” (Y/n) ordered, “And always make sure you have your phone on you so I can ask you what you’re up to, okay?”

“Okay, okay!” Yumeko giggled, “You don’t have to worry. That person you just mentioned is dead to me anyway.”

A strangled moan of Yumeko’s name could be heard in the distance, but no one acknowledged it.

“Hey,” Yumeko’s eyes lit up, “let’s go do something fun this weekend. Just you and me, anything you want, okay?”

A small smile worked its way onto (Y/n)’s lips and she nodded, hugging her sister tighter.

“Yeah!”

[vickyvicarious]

So Dracula gave Jonathan three envelopes on May 12, and Jonathan ends up using only two to write about his extra stay: one to Hawkins, one to Mina. (While Dracula was observing to see what he's writing)

The question is, will Dracula even bother to mail the one addressed to Mina?

Jonathan has been talking a lot with Dracula. Specifically, the first day before he realized he was a prisoner, he was probably a lot less guarded about what he said. He may well have mentioned Mina - even if not specifically or in great detail, he might've mentioned his fiancee. We know he loves to talk about her after all. So I think the three envelopes may have actually been an extra-sneaky way for Dracula to confirm his suspicion that the only two people Jonathan has talked much about to him (Mr. Hawkins and Mina) are the only ones who he is really close to/who might know when to expect him back or get suspicious if he takes too long. In this sense, the letters work extra well. Not only does Jonathan only avail himself of two envelopes, but nothing he writes mentions any kind of "please also tell so-and-so that I won't be there" request. Since Dracula is able to read what Jonathan writes, he'll know that for sure.

So, information acquired. Jonathan is mostly alone in the world. Great.

But you raise a good point: will Dracula send out both the letters? He doesn't need to, and if he didn't it would only hurt Jonathan's image (making him seem like a careless lover who can't be bothered to spend time keeping in touch). But it might be a good idea to do so, just because then Jonathan seems busy for longer, and so everyone involved with him is less likely to get worried for more time. He may have gathered that Jonathan would normally have written more, and so no correspondence at all is more suspicious than limited correspondence, even if it seems a bit uncharacteristic. I think he probably did send this letter to Mina, because at this point it still suits his purposes. If Jonathan seemed to him like someone who was more casual with personal correspondence, he might not have, but I don't think that's the impression Jonathan would give off to anyone. Not to mention, this gives everyone who matters most to Jonathan a full month longer before they consider getting worried - or even a bit longer, depending on how slow the mail is.

(I have actually been putting a fair bit of thought into what letters get sent when and such in my WRWD tracking, and when the time comes I will explain in greater detail my thoughts on why/when Mina might be expected to receive this letter - even if we never get to see it ourselves. I didn't want to get too into spoiler territory here by referencing any later timelines in detail.)

[barbarianbookhoe]

Hi!! ♥️🌻

I saw your requests are open and I just read the one you just posted from Aleksander.

I wanted to see if you wanted to write a story that came to mind when I read your story (it's okay if you don't feel like writing it because it seems repetitive to you)

What if it goes back to the time when the Darkling created the fold.

Aleksander is married to an inferni and they both have a small child, so when the king's men find him in the cabin by accident they end up hurting his son and he dies.

The reader and he are devastated and the Darkling, seeing his wife on the verge of collapse, decides to corrupt himself and create the fold against Ravka.

And that is the villain origin of The Darkling and his wife

(Maybe you could put in a bit of Baghra talking to Aleksander or the reader about her grandson)

Hope you have a nice day and I'm excited to read the stories you post ♥️🤗

Christ on a stick, you thought about that a lot at night? It's an insanely good request (and I might just believe it that if he had a wife, this might've been one reason for him to become a villain)

A/N: Again, thank you for your patience love!

The end feels kinda rushed and cringe-y, but meh, I tried my best

What you made me

TW: character going slowly mad with grief, child death (2), assault, angst

(Some of the things in the story are really not for the weak!)

They came without warning.

It was a peaceful night, nothing out of the ordinary, the fresh midnight air easing his exhaustion that seemed to follow him for the past weeks.

His wife wasn't that energetic either, but at least they knew her reasons for being tired all the time. Growing another life inside their body tends to do that to women.

Aleksander couldn't wait to finally get home to his family. His wife, one of the most cunning Infernis he's ever met, their three year old son, who seemed to look like his exact replica, and their unborn daughter, who they were excited to meet in just a few short months.

As soon as he opened the front door to their home, Aleksander heard the quiet footsteps hurrying to him in the candlelight. His wife hugged him with such force, he had to take a step back to fully balance both of them.

When he slightly let go of his wife, she didn't hesitate to give a weak slap to his face. Aleksander looked bewildered. "What was that for?"

"For not informing me about you coming home later than usual. I've been worried sick for the last four hours, wondering where the fuck you are!"

Y/N whisper shouted at him, so as not to wake their son. Her gaze could've melted stone right in that moment. Aleksander didn't like to be on the receiving end of her furious glare.

Then she pulled him by his neck and kissed him as if he had been away for not four hours, but four years. Her kiss was tender, yet commanding. Aleksander didn't stop until she pulled away first.

"And this, is for coming home to us." Y/N pressed her forehead against his, as he put a hand over her bump. It wasn't that big yet, but it was enough for anyone to know she wasn't alone in her body.

"She's been kicking a lot today. Drives me mad," Y/N said and her husband laughed. "I bet she's just excited to meet you."

"Just four more months and she'll be here." She smiled a little at the thought. Aleksander kissed her again, and she melted into his hug.

There was an urgent knock on the door, which made the couple turn towards the door. Aleksander gave Y/N a look, and she immediately went into her son's room, out of sight.

They came without warning.

Aleksander just put his hand on the doorhandle, when suddenly it busted open and soldiers of the Army dragged him out of the house and kicked him onto the ground.

Aleksander could hear muffled sounds from his home, then his son was shouting and sounds of a fight could be heard. Then he saw the soldiers dragging his pregnant wife out the door, with their son crying into her neck as she held him, a gun pointed at her head.

Y/N was an Inferni. One of the best. Actually, if Aleksander was honest with himself, she was the best of the best. More trained and in control of her powers than anyone he's ever seen. Before he could ask himself why didn't she use her powers, he quickly reminded himself that if she did, it would cause more trouble than what they were in right now.

Y/N slowly walked with the soldier beside her, the gun still at her temple, and got stopped in front of Aleksander. She didn't let her fear show, but her husband knew that she was terrified. Their son was in lethal danger, and they both knew that if the situation got out of hand, they could lose their unborn child too.

Aleksander tried to remain calm, all the while counting the guns pointed at him and his family. The soldiers began arguing with him, listing crimes he did never commit, connecting every single one of them to the fact he was born a Grisha. Not just an ordinary one, but a Shadow Summoner at that.

The shot came without warning.

He could see the war behind their hateful gaze, they admired him just as much as they feared him. And nothing is more powerful than fear. Even the slightest second, the tiniest bit of dread can make you lose everything you hold dear.

Aleksander tried to reason with them, calmly at first. Doing everything they said, trying to make them see he is not the monster the rumors make him appear to be.

Then he tried playing mind games on them, manipulating them, pointing their fear towards something else, convincing them with everything he could.

He saw the soldiers leave her wife and son alone, now focusing more on him. He swallowed down the relieved sigh that was about to escape him.

But it only lasted a few seconds, before their leader began yelling, figuring out he was using them to leave them alone. It soon turned into an argument where Aleksander still tried to hold back himself from killing every one of them for putting a hand on his family.

It turned into a fight. Aleksander still refused to use his powers, no matter the urge he felt to do the exact opposite.

One second the soldiers were crowding in on Aleksander. One of them tripped with their gun still in hand.

The shot came without warning.

The next second all he could hear was the painful shriek of his wife. He turned his only a second but it was enough to make him lose control.

Their son's blood all over Y/N's face and hands as her whole body seemed to tremble, her eyes looking at the ground. Her face was full of shock and nothing else, as if her thoughts ceased to exist.

Another scream left her, more painful than the first as she slowly collapsed on her knees and cried for their son.

Aleksander couldn't look at the scene anymore. His focus was on the soldiers now. The urge he felt before, the urge to destroy, it came back with full force. And he let it out.

The shadows consumed everything and for a split second there was nothing except darkness. The sound of a blade whoosing through the air could be heard and all of the soldiers were dead.

Aleksander quickly dropped down in front of his weeping wife. He tried to get her up, to escape somewhere they won't find them, but she was still in too much shock to focus on anything else than her son.

"Please, my love, I beg of you, we need to get out of here." Aleksander begged with tears in his eyes, not wanting to lose her too. Y/N looked up at him with eyes full of pain, the blood a horrifying reminder on her face.

"This-this is, it's just, it's just paint," Y/N stuttered, trying to make a coherent sentence, then she nodded, as if confirming something. "It's just paint." She nodded again, and Aleksander watched her with a sad face.

Eventually he was able to help her up from the ground and he quickly gathered some of their stuff from the house, most of them being clothes and their son's blanket. He gave the blanket to Y/N, who immediately wrapped their dead son in it, as if it could warm him up. Aleksander didn't have the heart to explain to his grieving wife their son was dead, when she was in such a shock. It would do more damage than good.

They made their way through the forest, only stopping to drink or for Y/N to rest a little. They finally arrived to a small cottage on the edge of the forest, and the sun was just about to come up. Baghra rushed them inside, her face full of worry.

They sat down at the small table in the kitchen, Aleksander and Baghra constantly talking about what happened, when Y/N spoke up.

"We need warm water," she whispered and Aleksander turned to her. "Of course," he said and grabbed a bowl to get some water for them. Baghra looked at the blood on her face and her grandson in Y/N's arms, wrapped in a blanket that had bloodstains on it.

"I need to wash it off. It's just paint." She said and Baghra looked at her with concern. Aleksander was about to tell her to leave his wife alone, but Baghra gently lifted the blanket from her grandson's face. Seeing his lifeless eyes, his pale skin and the dried blood on the back of his head, Baghra had to muffle a cry.

"It's just paint." Y/N whispered again, and began to rock her son gently, as if he was upset.

As if he was still alive.

That's what Y/N's been saying ever since that night. Whenever Aleksander or Baghra tried to take her son out of her arms, to check up on her properly, or to get her to sleep at least a few hours, she would say it.

He was just sleeping.

Her grip would tighten around the boy, out of protection, as she'd say he's just tired and he just needs to sleep. Sometimes she would rock him gently, or humm a lullaby to him, or even tuck him to bed, as if he was still alive.

Y/N was more like a ghost, never seeming to eat, never seeming to sleep, to talk, to move, or do anything beside taking of her son's corpse.

Aleksander was begging her to eat, day and night, never getting more than a few bites down her throat. He tried to reason with her, if not for herself than do it for their unborn daughter, who quite literally won't survive without her mother.

That made some life return to Y/N, and she began to eat a little more every day. Eventually she didn't even notice when she started to eat four or five times a day, always too caught up in her thoughts that never seemed to stop.

There was a small part of her, a voice in her head trying to get her back to reality. Make her see that if she tries to bury her pain it will slowly destroy her. Make her see that she needs to take care of her well-being.

It was as if her brain was trying to keep her awake, so as not to relieve her pain in her nightmares. As if she was trying to block out reality and slowly create her own world, where her son was still alive and smiling and running around.

He was just sleeping.

But it was grotesque just looking at herself: she was getting bigger and bigger as she came closer to giving birth, meanwhile her son remained still and pale as a ghost, never growing anymore.

She tried to bury her pain, alter her grief in a way it would hurt least, create a aworld inside her where none of it happened, where her sweet boy was smiling at her.

One day she was tucking her son to sleep in the late afternoon, the sun not setting yet, when she touched her son's face and noticed the dried blood. She's been touching her dead son for months, but today was the day when it felt real.

When she finally realized that this was not her son anymore, this was not the little boy she loved, this was no more than a cold body, a corpse, waiting to be buried.

Aleksander practically burst through the door when he heard his wife's painful scream. He quickly held her close to his chest as she cried over her son's corpse. These past few months he'd been on edge, waiting for Y/N to finally snap out of her head.

It hurt him to see her in so much pain the first time. He did not imagine it would be just as painful the second time.

Y/N wailed, screamed, sobbed, eventually she even began to burn the coat off Aleksander's arms, but he didn't care. He soothed the flames a little with his shadows, but let his wife let it all out. He wasn't going to stop her from grieving.

Aleksander didn't imagine it to be just as painful as the first time. He had soon realized it can be even worse.

Blood was dripping on Y/N's legs as she cried. Her head was throbbing from all the screaming and crying, her chest was getting tighter and tighter from the pain, and she felt like she was burning.

She felt the blood slowly dripping from between her legs while Aleksander was shouting something to Baghra. In her painful cries she realized what was happening.

She began sobbing even more.

Baghra had to deliver the baby, even though she was coming nearly two months earlier. Y/N had to push the baby out, even though she wasn't in active labour yet. If she waited too long, the baby would get stuck, and both of them would die.

The girl was born still.

Y/N was still holding her dead newborn weeks later. She was rocking her, humming lullabies for her, changing her, even smiling down at her and holding her little hand, talking to her.

She began to alternate her pain again. This time it became a lot worse a lot more sooner. It wasn't just the baby anymore, she brought her dead son into her made up world too. She would act as if both children were alive and happy, one time even sitting with them in the garden and talking with them.

Her son was sleeping, because he was running around all day.

Aleksander and Baghra could only watch her descend into madness. Whenever they tried to get her back to reality, to let her grieve her children properly, as soon as she realized she would have to leave the imaginary world behind, she acted like nothing was wrong.

After another month of his failed attempts, Aleksander had enough. One day he stood in front of his wife, who was about to get their son from the bed, and he stopped her.

Her daughter was sleeping, because babies sleep a lot during the first months.

"This has to stop." He commanded, and Y/N looked at him playfully. "I know I shouldn't smolder him this much, but he's just-"

"He's dead!" Aleksander told her. "He's-," His voice cracked and he had to swallow down the lump in his throat.

"Our son is dead, Y/N. Our daughter too. Both of our children are dead." He whispered, not hiding the pain in his voice while grabbing Y/N's face between his hands, trying to make her understand.

"That's not funny. They're just sleeping, you know how kids are-" Y/N reasoned with him, but it made him snap at her.

"Our children are dead for fuck's sake!" Aleksander shouted, the tears evident in his red, sleepless eyes. "Our son was shot right outside our home, and our daughter was born dead." He said as if stating facts. They were facts, but he had to tell them to her face to get her to realize.

"I beg of you Y/N, please, don't bury your pain any deeper. I cannot see you drive yourself into madness." He shook his head, not caring how desperate he sounded. He was willing to do anything at this point to get a reaction out of her.

Y/N looked at him worriedly, but it soon turned into a knowing look, a look that screamed of pain, grief and fear.

"They're just sleeping." She whispered and tears streamed down her face. She remained neutral, though her voice was filled with agony. "They're just sleeping."

She kept saying those words as recognition filled both of their eyes.

Aleksander realized she's been aware of her loss, but she refused to believe it, hoping it would take away her pain if she tried to erase the facts from her mind.

Y/N realized her children were gone, dead. Her husband has been trying to keep the last piece of her sanity still in tact, hoping she wouldn't succumb to madness, or depression, or worse, suicide.

Baghra helped them make a grave and thombstone for both their son and daughter. Y/N and Aleksander stayed at their graves long after Baghra went inside to give them privacy. They just stared at the graves in silence, the tears dried on their faces, with sore eyes and probably empty gazes.

Y/N grabbed Aleksander's hand and gave him a tight squeeze, as she spoke up.

"I want to kill them." Her voice was no louder than a whisper, filled with agony. Aleksander looked at her as she turned to look at him.

"I want all of them to feel the pain that I have to feel." Her voice wavered as her gaze lit up in anger. "I want the world to burn."

Aleksander looked at his wife without surprise, without guilt, without any kind of remorse about what he was going to do.

"Then we destroy them."

Y/N and Aleksander stood side by side in their beautiful keftas, the black and red colors foreshadowing the soldiers' fate.

Aleksander let go of the reign holding his powers, therefore he began creating something that would change their lives forever.

Y/N was true to her words: she burned everything that came across her way. They didn't call her the best of the best just because of the title. Her power had the ability to improve itself, to evolve into something far bigger than she ever would've imagined.

She only needed the least bit of heat, wether from nature or from the human body itself, for her to conjure her fire.

She burned them. All of them.

Her hunger to avenge everything she had to lost, became far greater than she thought at first. She told herself she wasn't a killer, she wasn't a monster.

But what is a monster, if not the one who enjoys inflicting pain without remorse? And enjoying it, Y/N did. She smiled as she watch the last of the soldiers scream for mercy, the mercy she was not allowed to have.

Baghra tried to reason with the both of them as she watched the Fold slowly divide Ravka. She argued with them what the consequences of their actions are, that power like this has a price they might not be willing to give.

Y/N stepped closer to the woman, the emotions gone from her eyes.

"Do you know ehat it feels like to watch your own children die?" She asked and Baghra didn't know how to answer. She looked at the girl with grief, opening her mouth to convince her of stopping, but Y/N grabbed the collar of her dresd and yanked her closer.

"Watching your children, your own flesh and blood, their lives slowly slipping away in your own fucking hands, all the while knowing there is nothing you can do to stop it." Y/n said, her voice a mix of anger and sadness, with a hint of madness creeping in.

Aleksander put a hand on her shoulder, silently telling her to stop and just go, but she didn't stop.

"You think I wouldn't avenge their death? Did you seriously believe that I wouldn't bring justice in their name?" Y/N chuckled silently, but it sounded like a madman's laugh, slowly slipping into insanity.

"Every single one of them, every single person who believes, or even thinks about Grisha as the enemy, as the monster, will pay the price for my children's death. Was it not for them, they would still be alive. And I will not stop, not until the last person against Grisha is dead, burning under my fingertips." She threatened and stepped away from Baghra, who now had a very concerned look on her face.

"And I will look them in the eye and laugh, and laugh, as they die." Y/N told her at last, and turned to walk away from her. Aleksander had a firm hand on her back, his belief in her not wavering for one second.

Together, they will create a new order, a better Ravka, where Grisha will no longer be the subject of the world.

Where Grisha are no longer a threat.

Where Grisha can live like Kings and Queens.

[bigbroadvice]

Hey, uh...

Hi....!

I... Wanted to talk to you about something because I don't have anyone else I can talk to about it (this is going to be a very long rant, ignore this if you like)

I... think I'm trans. Specifically transmasc. Or nonbinary. Or agender. I don't know what the heck I am XD. But... I'm Christian (specifically LDS). It goes against everything I believe. Or at least what I think I believe. I've done research. There seems to be a lot of discourse, but the majority seem to say it's okay, although I wouldn't be able to do certain things that I love if I started socially or medically transitioning. (You can ignore this part if you want, especially if you aren't comfortable with giving religious advice)

I have supportive friends and most likely family. I know at least some of my friends would accept me because a few of them are also trans or visibly supportive of it. I know at least one certain group of friends would support and encourage me if I decided to come out. And my parents once said something that very clearly said that they'd support me regardless of who I am (which makes me wonder now, later, if they knew before I knew.) They're just a little awkward about lgbtq+ stuff, and I know they'd get my name and pronouns wrong a lot and consistently struggle with it. But I think know they'd still support and love me.

On the other hand, there are quite a lot of reasons not to come out. I'm still really young. I'm only thirteen. I've heard a lot about how young trans people might face criticism, specifically things like "you might regret it later!" Or "you're too young to know this!". And the thing is: they're right. I'm still not sure exactly who I am. At first I thought I was agender, because I felt like I didn't really care about gender or what pronouns people used for me. But then I started to think I was nonbinary. And I thought about what it'd be like to be referred to as they/them, and it felt really good. And all the while, in the back of my mind, a quiet voice said "you could be a boy?"

Quick Sidetrack: I only found out I was gay because... I watched a whole bunch of lgbtq tiktok comps (I know, kinda stupid but hear me out). I watched so many that I began to question if I was still an outsider to that group of people. Eventually, after a lot of internal screaming, I realized that I was pan and ace, and came out. My parents didn't find out the way I wanted them to, having read through my texts, but after a very uncomfortable Talk it ended up pretty okay. But I only realized because I watched so many tiktoks. And I still wonder to this day if I was only faking it until I made it. I never had gay thoughts or feelings until I learned it existed, and I still wonder to this day if I still would've ever realized if I hadn't learned about it. The same thing happened with my depression: I only realized it and started having symptoms after I learned it existed. When I was younger, I'd had multiple times where I'd lied about something bad happening to me because I wanted attention. So I worry that might've been the case, and I pretended I had depression until I actually had it because I wanted people to make it known that they care. And I wonder if that's what happened with being gay: I worry I faked it until I made it real because I just instinctively wanted to be part of a community. Later I realized I didn't know anything about my orientation and started identifying as queer. But the same thing could apply to being trans: I might have just faked it until I made(??) It, because I want to be unique and part of a community.

So anyway: I'm questioning being trans for a number of reasons. I don't want to transition medically, because that just doesn't feel like a need for me (at least right now. I am still only a kid after all.) It's more socially transitioning that I want. But if I don't want to medically transition, doesn't that mean I can't be a boy? Doesn't that mean I kinda have to be either nonbinary or agender? I guess that's most of the reason I'm questioning which one I am.

I can't be a boy. I CAN'T be a BOY.

But.... one day I started playing around with my hair. Even before I'd started questioning Things, I've had an idea of what my hair could look like that I really really want and think would make me happy but I'm too scared to ask my parents to do it. And so I was playing around with it.... And decided to try parting it on the side. The way those stereotypically emo people (not saying that's bad just based on society's views and the media) have one side of their hair basically shaved and the other long. Just to see what I would look like.

But... I looked in the mirror, and at how my hair looked short, and looking the way I'd always wanted to look, and just how MUCH it changed how I saw both my physical features and my personality... It felt... right. A thought came before I could shut it down and said "that's me. There I am. I... I actually like that person!"

But.. I'm scared of how people other than that one group of friends will react. Especially this one group of people that are my favorite people ever, that make me feel like myself and I look up to them a lot (and they're all older). What if they, and/or my parents, listen to me come out, and then say "oh. Oh no, [name]. Please no. I don't want this for you, that isn't you".

I'm scared. I'm scared that they'll say something other than what they'll probably say.

Every day, I pull my hair back and part it on the side, and see a real, ME smile break out over my face. And then I pull it back to normal, and yell at my reflection that I'm not a boy I'm a girl I'm a girl I'M A GIRL I'M A GIRL because maybe if I lie to myself say that enough I'll be able to make it true.

And another thing: everywhere isn't... Ideal, to put it mildly, for trans people. But I live in the U.S, and there's currently a lot of political discourse about whether or not they....we deserve rights. I'm worried that if Trump gets elected, or laws get passed, that I'll bring harm not only on myself but on the people I love.

But... the daydream of saying "I go by he/him (he/they????)", and wearing boy's clothes, and looking the way I always wanted to, especially with my hair, and getting top surgery (maybe) when I'm older and being able to feel my chest, and going by the name Ace (get it cuz cuz I'm asexual? Ace? I didn't realize that until after I chose it lol and I find it funny) and just... feeling free to really, truly be me... I really, really want that. So much that it hurts.

But I'm scared. I'm scared I'll make that choice, and then realize it was the wrong one. I'm scared that I'm too young to know.

I want to come out. But... it might be better to wait until I'm at least sixteen, and things would hopefully calm down a little bit politically at least, and I'm better mentally equipped to make that kind of decision. It also might give my parents time to get more comfortable with lgbtq+ stuff.

But 3 years is a long time to wait.

I guess the question is: do you have a good way to stay in the closet? To resist the urge to tell people and be patient?

Aaaaaanyway, thank you for reading my very very long rant and hope you're having a great day/night!

Hey friend, lean in close,… no, closer

There is no such thing as fake queer people

If living a certain way makes you happy, then live that way! If a certain word helps you describe that lifestyle and/or the way you feel, use it! And that doesn’t have to be the same word forever. You’re allowed to try on labels and identities and lifestyles to see which ones fit best. Its ok to try something on for a while and then decide it’s not for you and you’d like to try something else. That’s how you figure out who you are!

That’s why the whole “but they’re too young to know” thing is so silly. This is when you’re supposed to be figuring stuff out! Kids try on all sorts of different things: hobbies and interrests, friendgroups, styles, personalities, worldviews. That’s a good thing! It’s called exploring! That’s how you figure out who you want to be when you grow up. If you figured out you liked science, did some googling into different science careers, and decided you wanted to become a neurosurgeon, most people would be overjoyed and do whatever they could to support you in that pursuit, even if later down the line you found something else in the science field you were more interrested in, or maybe something outside of science entirely!

It’s the same thing for gender and sexuality. Try on different kinds of clothes to see what you like wearing. Try on different sets of pronouns to see what you like hearing. Try on labels to see which ones you vibe with. Try out new hairstyles. It’s just hair. It’ll grow back. Try on names to see which one feels like you.

And its ok to be open about the fact that you’re trying things out and might not be sure about everything yet! You can just tell people, “I think I might be transmasc (or nonbinary, or agender). I’m going by Ace and He/Him (or He/They) pronouns for now.” And yeah, some people are probably gonna be assholes about it, but those people are gonna be assholes no matter what you tell them. Let their words slide off you like water off a duck. People who care about you and want to support you will go through that journey with you.

As far as the ‘not knowing you’re gay till you’ve seen a bunch of gay stuff’ goes, that’s also completely normal. I’m pretty confident most neurosergeons didn’t know they wanted to be neurosergeons until they heard about other neurosergeons. Some people ‘always knew’ something was different about them even before they had the words for it, and some people only started seeing that thing in themselves after they’d seen it in others. Both of those are awesome and neither is any less true! That’s the fun part of learning about the human experience. You get to understand other people better, but also, you frequently stumble upon things that give you a deeper understanding of yourself.

All that being said, it’s a good idea to test the waters when it comes to parents. Coming out does not need to be an all or nothing kind of deal. You can tell the people you know with complete confidence will support you first and ask them to keep it to themselves for now. (This is a good way to test out names and pronouns by the way. A smaller group means less hassle of having to let people know you’d like to try something else) Once you feel ready (and perhaps have made some plans with your friends for some emotional support if things don’t go as well as they could have) you can bring up the topic with your parents. If you’re not sure how they’d react to you coming out directly, it might be a good idea to talk about a trans friend of yours and see what they have to say on the topic. If that goes well, pitch a hypothetical “what would happen if I came out to you.” If their response makes you nervous, you can always backpeddle and say you were just curious what their views on the subject were. If things go well, then go for it!

Anyways, as someone whose ditched a religion I no longer believed in and gone through multiple names, labels, and pronouns to find what makes me happy today, I wish you the best of luck my friend. It’s an adventure. Don’t be afraid to make mistakes. You’ve got to be willing to fail if you ever want to succeed at anything.

[frootertooter]

Collection of stuff I found interesting whilst reading through The Riddler's Gambit (Arkham Knight Prequel book)

[Chapters 1-4]

At least Eddie's aware of his own egomania

So the decision to keep Oracle a secret from Gordon was Barbara's choice? Guess it wouldn't really change Gordon's reaction to the confession later on in Arkham Knight, but it would've been interesting to see how it would've played out if Bruce told him during that scene

^^ Bruce's worries about keeping Oracle's identity a secret from Jim

WELL. UH... WE KNOW HOW THAT PLAYED OUT :'D

Either Bruce is just really daft and forgot Babs already knows his identity, or the author forgot the voice lines in both Arkham Asylum and City where Babs calls Bruce by his name? Or that entire Hush side mission in A. City where Babs directly challenges Batman by proposing he might've been the serial killer bc Bruce Wayne's prints were found at the crime scene??

THIS STINKSTER. He's so damn goofy I love it

Tbh I really wish we got to see more of this side of Riddler in the Arkham games? We usually just see his goofier show-biz esque persona in the games, and although it's hinted at, we don't really get to see how genuinely menacing he can be? There aren't many scenes depicting how he treats his goons, or anyone who isn't another rogues gallery member/ Batman? (Or at least the only glimpses I can remember are how he talks to his Riddlerbots?)

[wulvercazz]

🍭And So, It Begins🦇

~ October 3rd - Candy, Pole Dancing/Stripping ( Ichigo x Grimmjow ) ~ Extra tags; food play, food insertion/unsafe insertion

The Prompt List

(fic part 1 under the cut)

Ichigo has to have been staring at the rundown lot for about an hour. Or perhaps a minute.

All he's wanted as a young adult looking to get away from his homereef and out from under his father's fin - claw - is to find a decent enough job. This was supposed to be his bout of good luck- not,,, the beginning of a bad horror story.

The secretary who contacted him was real, he gave him accurate and detailed information, he heard his voice. And for what? The carcass of a school who in no reality would have ever been looking to "urgently fill a teaching position". And there was no mistaking the address he was given either. There was no other school in all of Aquacity.

He should've never come here. It's almost dark, the seabus back to Karaura reef is another six hours of travel and not even available again til morning. He feels played with, obviously  frustrated, and so incredibly tired.

And the small apartment he made arrangements for prior to his travel is so lackluster and just plain sad-looking he simply doesn't feel like going there to sleep this horrible night off either.

His feet drage little clouds of sand with every step. He doesn't want to think about it, about how much of a loser he is, about how come morning he'll have to go back home with his tail between his legs and say "hey dad, missed me on the single day I was gone?"

What he could do, is get ahold of a drink, sit on a crowded bar, and perhaps find a warm body to flirt his depression away to.

He doesn't expect to find himself lost to the view of this place. People had looked at him weird at the bus central whenever they heard where he was moving; but no one ever said much of anything about the place. It looked... well, like a city. With a good few large coral buildings towering above, fancy looking roads and lots of businesses; all dark and mostly quiet as night settled above the water. The curious sight of it was all the orange and plack and purple dressing it all. The jack-o-lanterns and the star-like decorations on the doors. Everything set for Halloween like he's never seen anyone do back home, or anywhere ever. It might've looked even cheery and bright earlier... except- where's everybody?

He's not really one for holidays, barely celebrates his birthday at all even, but he knows for a fact that Halloween is supposed to happen.. at night. It's late, but not quite midnight, not so late that a place so meticulously decorated like this would be barren before the ring o the bell. Where is everybody?

As he walks, what little people had been walking by in the distance have all scurried away into their homes or simply out of sight, and more than a little mystifying,,, he's started to get a little freaked.

Ichigo quickens his steps, his one claw clicking anxiously and creating little air bubbles amidst the water, his antenna jittery as he turns about for any sign of life. And... and suddenly there is. Muffled and uninteligible, but it's the sound of music; that must be it surely... everyone's celebrating indoors and here he is... worrying over nothing.

He really hopes it is a bar, he really needs that drink now.

The light trembling of the soundspeakers reaches his body when he finds the place. "Las Noches" it reads and now he's positive it's got to be at least something like a bar. The sound grows louder with each step, and finally the last of his worries start to ease into quiet sort of defeat. He came here to forget his troubles, right? Not to investigate some sort of ghosttown mystery bullshit, even made up by his own sleep-deprived mind.

The bouncer, because there is a bouncer — a blowfish that looks just about ready to get pointier at any wrong look, asks him for a rather outrageous cover charge (like he hasn't lost enough by coming to this city in the first place) that he reluctantly pays anyway. Because anything is better than walking back through that cold street back to his sad apartment right now, if he has to do it, at least he wants to do it with a couple drinks on him. And it all looks normal, with music just loud enough to sort of drown the laughter of a few other fish, here and there, but not enough to deafen, and dim colorful lights giving more of a nightclub ambiance to the establishment, right until someone shoves a bag of halloween decorated candy in his hands and looks at him with tired disappoinment when he meets the second bouncer's face with utter confusion.

"Keep it moving," the guy says tiredly and rushes him in to move on to someone else coming in behind him.

A truly odd fucking city.

But he gets his drink, and a second drink, and he stares at the odd bag of candy from the little table he settled onto somewhere in the middle of the place. Truly, truly, odd.

He's nursing his drink, sadly staring at the funny candy inside his bag and wondering weird things about this city and whether studying medicine like his father had encouraged him to do instead of literature like he wanted would've made any difference, when a sudden burst of light and an excited disenbodied voice announces it's finally midnight.

Fish around him cheer and suddenly he's more and more lost than he was before he came into the nightclub. That is, until the music goes from contented ambiance to sultry and the colored lights reflect on what are very clearly dancing poles arranged along the front of the dark stage he'd somewhat noticed when he first sat. Oh... so it's that kind of place,,, right— huh, he's... never been good in this sort of place.

He's been to strip clubs before, back in college and only when Keigo insisted; but he's not sure he'll ever enjoy it. Not when all he ever does is give the dancers awkward half-stares and wish for sudden death when they make eye contact.

So he's not at all excited when a single dancer makes their appearance on-stage, swaying their hips up to the stage to the beat of the music and the excited cheering of everyone in the club; some dog-whistling earning other fish in the crowd a flirty wink or suggestive little shake of a pretty curled tail.

Fuck, fuck, it's not that he's a prude. Keigo teases him about his supposed virginity enough to know he thinks he is; it's just that... well, pretty people showing off their pretty bits... it gets him all flustered and weird.

Ok, perhaps he is a bit of a prude. But can you judge him? Can anyone in this weird city judge him when those wide hips in those frilly clothes sway and twist so nice along that pole? When that pretty face smiles and bites his lip so cute when perking his ass so lewd?

Pieces of the outfit start to fly and at the first peek of a rosy plush slit he starts to wish he could flee without calling too much attention to himself. But everyone around him just keeps cheering, clearly enjoying the night's entertainment; some even shout of the dancer's name, "Grimmjow~!" to call his attention, or perhaps to encourage him and his perfectly studied dance moves.

It's a rather small city in the end, everyone's bound to know each other.

And just as expected, the shouts and the cheering only bring more confident little grins to the seahorse's face; put a little more oomf to his twists, more curl to his tail. The music still sultry but somewhat more intense as he's bared himself almost fully exposed to his welcoming public. Long legs opening wide for his audience, tail wrapping sinfuly around the pole to balance himself a little more teasingly; and then people are scooching closer, leaning in to playfuly tuck...

Huh —

Fucking candy on his underwear's frilly elastic, and no one seems to mind when it falls onto the stage under its own weight.

What the fuck?

And, oh, oh shit, oh fuck. The newbie look of bewilderment in his face must be so clear from up there, that "Grimmjow" can't hide his cheeky grin when he makes his way right over to the pole standing right in front of his table.

He does as best as he can not to tremble like a little teen when he teasingly curls around the pole, and dances pretty much for him. The audience hooting and whistling for him to do something about it. And then Grimmjow slinks down the pole, all pretty teal skin and curled tail and pretty pink slit, his legs falling open in a flexible squat, back curled and grin just as much, and reaches out with his bare foot to keep teasing him further. And the sight and the foot on his neck, send shivers down his neck and right up his tail; disheveling his clothes and heating him up from his very core until he feels the water around him boil.

"Gimme a treat~" he speaks like hot velvet, voice much deeper than he expected, and that alone startles him with a hot spark right down to his crotch. Everything about him so distracting, that he doesn't quite notice when he went and curled his tail right around his claw, pulling him in right to the edge of his chair, "won't you, stranger?💕"

The only other option would've been to struggle and run like a little coward, and he wanted to, fuck he really wanted to... but somehow, the ache to see more, touch more, had him shily pulling a lollipop out the troublesome little candy bag. Grimmjow's darkened blue eyes following his every move, a quietly amused noice leaving his lips before he pulled again on his arm.

He wishes he could've stopped the scaredy little jolt of his hand when Grimmjow let go of the pole only to reach in too; unwrapping the little jack-o-lantern lollipop and canting his hips with a rather obvious request.

Fuck. Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

And his soft hand only guided his when it was obvious he'd need the push; guiding the candy to his puffy pink lips. Making him slick the hard caramel along his entrance and encouraging Ichigo to push it inside.

He might have blacked out for a second there. Quite possibly. When he felt his body give and suck the lollipop in, only the little white stick poking out of him.

And just like that, his tail maneuvered his claw and dumped it half across his lap, making a fool of him while he made a fool of himself; watching entranced as he crossed his leg over and showed off his filled slit. Everyone's hoots and screams suddenly registering back to his brain as they laughed and cheered both of them on; more dog whistles about when Grimmjow reached for the candy and fucked himself with it a couple cheeky strokes. Only to pull it out and bring it up to his lips, to suck his own slick off the treat.

Ichigo's been to strip clubs before, but nothing quite like this had ever happened to him at any of them. Not that he'd ever stayed long.

He's so dazed and tingly all over with the experience, drowned in more music and renewed screams as Grimmjow moves on with his show... that he could've sworn those little wings on his costume had no straps at all.

Find the uncensored version, as well as early access and wips to Aquacity as I draw/write it, on SubStar (link on pinned intro post)✨

[poisonedfate]

58 merthur for he prompt thing if you'd like to

hello!!! ii got a little carried away with this one, so it ended up being about 1.1k words (oops). you can read it on ao3 or under the cut.

prompt: “I’d die for you. Of course, I’d haunt you in the afterlife but really, it’s the thought that counts.”

send me prompts!

The ache in his shoulder was still there, as was Arthur's unreadable, if not slightly concerning looks. There were only fading scratches now visible on his arm, so really, the ache was nothing to worry about, but that only gave him more time to wonder about Arthur's looks. 

Merlin would often ignore them, the looks directed only at him - he either did not want to know, did not want to answer the questions that followed, or Arthur would tell him anyway - no point in losing sleep over it. But the looks did not seem to lessen, if anything it was the opposite, and the other had made no clear attempts at making his thoughts known. Arthur's eyes followed him around, weighing on him until he had finally had enough:

"Those worry lines are going to be permanently etched into your skin if you keep looking at me like that," he spoke, turning around quickly, now facing Arthur who was sitting at the table, staring. 

"I think I'll be fine," Arthur quickly muttered in response, scoffing and looking away. 

If anyone were to ask, Merlin would absolutely blame Arthur in every way possible for making him believe he could move quicker than necessary, just to escape the prince's gaze, resulting in a sharp breath and a moment of halted movement. And, really, it should've been fine but Arthur was being obnoxious, so of course he noticed. 

"Alright, Merlin, I've had enough," the prince said, voice already closer behind him than Merlin had expected. Was he actually about to blame Merlin for getting hurt? He better not. Merlin gave an unimpressed look in response.

"You know I'd actually prefer it if you could be in one piece whilst doing your job."

"I am in one piece!" he immediately retorted, only for Arthur to poke him in the shoulder. Not strongly enough to hurt him, just enough to make his point.

"Please, I know you can be dramatic sometimes, but this a new low even for you," Merlin continued, earning a glare from Arthur, "this is nothing."

"Why hasn't it healed yet?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually have all the answers," another glare from Arthur. The prince stayed quiet for a moment, staring at his shoulder like there was something interesting there - not that Merlin would know, he was pretty sure it was just a shoulder. 

"You need to stop doing that," Arthur spoke again, a seriousness lacing his tone now.

"Doing what?" Merlin tilted his head, brows furrowed. 

"Putting yourself in harm's way on my accord."

"I'm quite certain it was the sword that came at me not the other way around. Besides, you were the one who had to help me get out of that one, maybe you should think about your own tendencies of jumping into danger," he smiled.

"I'm a knight!" Arthur's eyes widened like they usually did when Merlin said something to offend him.

"Ah, well that explains it," he replied, trying to lighten the mood, though it did not seem to work, so he continued, "Arthur, you know I’d die for you. Of course, I’d haunt you in the afterlife, but really, it’s the thought that counts. You're not getting rid of me that easily." 

"I don't need-"

"Oh, will you get over yourself? You might have the power to make me shine your armour and make your bed, but you don't get to tell me who to live or die for," he sighed, tone slightly mocking. 

It might've, however, backfired on him slightly, a glint appearing in Arthur's eyes, something he has come to recognise as an idea on the prince's part. 

"So,-"

"You give me a job and I'll follow you anyway," Merlin interrupted, unimpressed. Arthur raised an eyebrow at that, though they both knew it was true, even without Merlin saying it. 

"Just tell me I'm really brave and let's move on from this, hm?" he had decided to go the full-mockery route since the frown on the other's face was only barely beginning to fade. 

Arthur sighed, a gentleness creeping into his features, as he reached for Merlin's arm, the one that didn't hurt, dragging the palm of his hand across it, stopping once he reached Merlin's own hand, lingering, hooking his pointer finger with Merlin's for only a second before letting go. 

He could only stare at the other, not sure how to respond. It wasn't unusual for Arthur to seek out soft touches, especially when there was something bothering him, but that didn't mean Merlin had figured out how to react. Usually, when the other made the first move, he would just go with whatever Arthur wanted, though that typically meant waiting around to see how he would continue. 

More often than not, he'd stay there for a while, close to Merlin, quiet, changing the topic once the thoughts in his head had stopped running, turning away from him. Arthur hadn't made any attempts to move now, however, and Merlin didn't like it. He didn't like that he couldn't read Arthur, that he was doing something Merlin couldn't predict. 

"Arthur," he kept his voice low, careful.

The prince lifted his eyes, taking a step towards him and placing his hands on either side of Merlin's jaw, leaning in closer. 

"Just be careful, will you? Otherwise, I won't be around for you to haunt, having to stress over you would've sent me to my doom already," his tone was earnest, a hint of annoyance somewhere in there too. 

"I will only try to die for you when strictly necessary, you have my word," he put his hand on one of Arthur's arms, giving it a barely-there squeeze, smiling. 

The prince rolled his eyes, moving the arm Merlin wasn't holding away so he could point at him. 

"Merlin,"

"Yeah, yeah," he grabbed at Arthur's hand, lowering it, "your wish is my command."

"Merlin."

It was his turn to lean in now, though at this point they were only a couple of breaths away from each other, so there was not a lot of room left for dramatics. 

"Yes, sire, when the time comes I will let you die, otherwise they'll throw me in the dungeons for trying to protect you and...killing you anyways?" he mocked, causing Arthur to grab at him, holding him by the arm, pulling. 

They were dangerously close to each other now, completely still. Merlin could hear the exact moments of Arthur's inhales and exhales, his breath heavy, could see the other's eyes lower to his lips and then up again. 

And, well, at least Arthur had finally figured out a way to stop Merlin from talking back. 

[riversimmone]

Three's A Crowd - Chapter 9

RiverOfTheSand

Summary:

SasuSaku. He didn't mean to kill that man. He had simply reacted to being attacked. And now Konoha is forced to hunt down the rogue members of Team 7, or risk open war. Eventual NaruHina.

XXX

Read from the beginning. This is a work in progress story you can find on tumblr and AO3 and completed on FF.NET.

[All tumblr posts will be tagged ‘Three’s A Crowd’ with their corresponding chapter for quick and easy access.]

Enjoy. :)

Chapter Nine: Shared Silence.

Sometimes he felt like he was someone else, like another person was living his life for him. There was a darkness inside of him that he couldn't explain, that he couldn't excuse and that he couldn't control. The stench of his mistake permeated his senses for days after Sasuke Uchiha had killed the brother of the fire daimyo.

He'd awoken from a dream-like state only to realise that he hadn't been imagining things. And no matter how he'd felt at the time, or the excuses he'd told himself in those moments of bloodlust, he hadn't meant to kill the old man. He wanted to be better than that, having left Konoha not as an act of disloyalty, but to follow the faint lead that Orochimaru had left behind.

In retrospect, three Genin who had just lost their loved ones and were barely out of the academy weren't going to be able to take down the Sannin. But really, killing Orochimaru wasn't something they often talked about. The subject was raised so rarely that there had been no actual discussion on how they would do it. They had never entertained the idea that they would be a match for the snake. But Sasuke wouldn't stay in Konoha knowing that hunting down that monster wasn't even being considered. He couldn't walk the streets of Konoha, pretend it wasn't going to happen again, and never try to do anything about it.

The final straw in his decision had been partly overhearing the elders, but also discovering that Orochimaru had stolen Uchiha relics, not to mention the Uchiha clan (or what was left of it) was the main reason for his attack.

So he had to get stronger, he had to find the snake and kill him, even if it was the last thing he ever did. But Konoha was rebuilding too slowly and everyone was needed in the reconstruction efforts. It left him feeling useless, fidgety, and frustrated. These were never good combinations in him. He wasn't normally so rash or impatient, and the shift in his perspective, his realisation that staying in Konoha was just hampering his desire for revenge, was a great motivation to leave. He'd often wondered what would've happened if Sakura hadn't realised what he was about to do and insisted on coming with him. She was more brains than brawn back in the academy, but after their numerous training sessions together, he'd seen a kind of strength in her that no-one else had bothered to look for. It might've had something to do with why he'd eventually given in to her romantic advances.

And then there was Naruto. He understood the baka's desire not to be left out, but never got how he could turn his back on his dream to one day become Hokage. If he'd stayed in Konoha, he might've one day accomplished that. It was impossible now. That blonde idiot confused him to no end.

But now, with the sun setting and the dark undergrowth of surrounding woodland as his destination for the night, Sasuke didn't know what he wanted anymore. He didn't know if there was any point in this quest for revenge. They'd been on the road for six years, found out more about Orochimaru's movements than anyone else in Konoha, but were they strong enough? His Sharingan was powerful, but he worried it wouldn't be enough when the time came. What they needed was more power.

He glanced backward discreetly as the sounds of early evening insects filled the tense silence around him. Just like they had with the caravan, Sakura and Naruto were giving Sasuke a wide berth. She'd tried to approach the Uchiha but he wasn't responsive, making her worry even more for him. They needed to get to Kumo, get this mission over and done with, and then take some time off. Maybe even splurge on paying to occupy an entire bathhouse to themselves for awhile. They definitely needed something to soak away this stench around them.

Sakura remembered the first time Sasuke had killed unnecessarily – he'd gotten his Sharingan before they left Konoha, but the first time he'd used it after going rogue, he'd killed without thinking. The pinkette had had nightmares for weeks about those screams. Since then, he'd only let his bloodlust overwhelm his rational mind a few times, and it still terrified her, what his Sharingan was capable of. But this time, it hadn't been his kekkei genkai – he'd used the sword to kill the old man. Sakura had spent the last couple of days watching him silently, occasionally brushing his arm in a gentle, comforting way, with no response.

This was definitely different from the other times. Maybe he'd finally snapped…

So she cried herself to sleep, silently of course – she'd long given up on the weak Sakura who wore her heart on her sleeve. Naruto wasn't fairing any better, having seemingly lost his voice and didn't even try to approach Sasuke. He kept close to Sakura however, only moving away when a particularly nasty glare from Sasuke (glinted red) was directed at him. He just wanted to comfort the only person in Kitsúne that wasn't possessed.

Neither Sakura nor Sasuke knew about the Kyuubi… Naruto had used its chakra occasionally, but only when pushed to. He wanted to tell them, but every time the chance presented itself, fear clutched at his chest. After all, he wouldn't be surprised if they wanted nothing to do with him afterward. Orochimaru may have engineered the attack on the leaf that ruined their lives, but the hand that had been the coup de grâce had been a jinchuriki.

X X X

They looked more sombre than she'd have thought possible. Tsunade surveyed Team Guy in the wake of their mission report, her eyes lingering on Neji, who was the only one looking slightly furious. Someone powerful had fooled his Byakugan (even though it had only succeeded because Neji had never seen that genjutsu before) and the Hokage thought immediately of Sasuke Uchiha's Sharingan. She kept this to herself however, as it was still considered top secret – rumours abound about many rogue Shinobi but some facts were easier to piece together than others. There had been a string of people with memory loss in wave country six months ago, and in the land of wind several weeks before that.

Tsunade had long believed that genjutsu was more destructive than most ninjutsu as the mind was a delicate thing – far more difficult to heal than a normal injury. It was why she took it more seriously – after all, one of the most powerful clans to ever exist excelled in genjutsu.

'Well, they used to.'

She sighed. And if Sasuke Uchiha had something to do with what was going on, there wasn't much she could do about it, especially if he'd progressed with his Sharingan enough to affect the battleground in the way Neji had describe. Fortunately, even though they hadn't heard or seen from any of the former members of Team Seven for six years, their motivations had nothing to do with harming Konohagakure.

Shizune knocked on the Hokage's door, waited for the "enter" from Tsunade and then bowed. "I have Kakashi Hatake for you ma'am, as requested."

"Thank you Shizune."

Guy greeted his eternal rival jovially, re-sparking some of his normally upbeat disposition, and Kakashi just sighed deeply. He really wasn't in the mood for one of Guy's speeches, and tuned out as the spandex clad man started on about how his youth had betrayed him and having this eternal rival around was sure to bring it back. (Okay… so the tuning out hadn't actually worked this time – he was getting old after all.)

"Kakashi," Tsunade said. "Fetch Kurenai Yuhi's team. She's taking some time off so you'll be her replacement on squad eight."

'Why couldn't Shizune have just done that?' "Yes Lady Hokage," Kakashi shunshined out and Gai frowned.

"Are you sure it's wise sending out another team?" He asked.

"The perpetrators know our faces," Tenten said, her eyes on Neji however – he was watching and listening but not making any input.

"Yes, but they'll still stand out as Konoha ninja, so in the end, what does that matter?"

"Guy," Tsunade said, "you're not being left out. I have a separate mission for you. Just wait until Kakashi returns with the others," she added as he moved to interrupt.

Tenten kept her worried eyes on Neji the entire time, but it didn't take Kakashi long to track down Kiba Inuzuka, Shino Aburame and Hinata Hyuuga. Tsunade stood up and moved in front of her desk, leaning back on it wearily. She was older than she looked of course, and right now, she was feeling it.

"Are we to move as two teams?" Lee asked, looking very excited about that possibility.

"No. I've sent a message to Kumo," Tsunade said, "and their informants have placed the rogues somewhere between the southern border to the land of frost and lightning country. While Team Kakashi–" (Kiba growled insolently at this title) "–goes ahead to scout out the area, I want Team Guy to stay in their shadow. You are to follow them and not make yourself known unless you encounter resistance."

"Lady Hokage?" Hinata asked, bowing slightly. "What about the rumours of Kitsúne being in the land of frost? Is this connected?"

Tsunade exchanged a worried look with Shizune. "Actually, you might encounter them. I've been putting together all the information we have of them and I think I've figured out who they are."

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