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devildomditzy · 2 years ago

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Pacts - Mammon x MC

Part one of ? Read Part two here

No tw so far! I’ll update if this changes

This also contains my personal headcannons of where MC’s pact mark locations are, none of it is cannon <3

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Mammon absolutely hated your pact mark location at first.

Standing with you in the kitchen, absolutely humiliated, forced to his knees just to get his precious goldie back from the hands of Diavolo’s new pet- the one he had to unfortunate luck of having to look after. The confusion he felt once he looked up, wiping the frustrated tears beginning to form in his eyes, when he couldn’t see the pact on you; but he can feel it clear as day. There was no mistaking it, he was now bound to you, whether he liked it or not. “Whatever”, he thought to himself, “s’probably somewhere under their sleeve, or their arm or somethin’ stupid”. It didn’t matter to him, all that mattered to him was the piece of plastic in your grip that was now being passed over to him.

Yes!

“Now, I command you to pay Levi back what you owe him.”

Fuck!

A few days and a few draining shifts at Hell’s Kitchen later to save up enough to pay back his younger brother at the command of the new pain in his ass, it finally occurs to Mammon that he could now feel new sensations, specifically feelings that weren’t his own, and he comes to the conclusion that he has you to thank for this unwanted connection. His heart pulls at your loneliness when you lock yourself away in the guest room, scared of your new home and dejected by those around you. He feels himself become homesick for the human realm, a place he’d never regard as ‘home’ considering the amount of money grubbing witches after his wallet residing there. He feels his heartbeat speed up in tandem with yours every time you’re together. He’s not sure what to make of that one.

It doesn’t take long- a week at most, until he’s knocking on your door with enough force you’d think he’d bowl it down. You open the door with wild eyes, not sure who’d be bothering to visit you at this hour. The familiar race in your chest begins when you lock eyes with him. He can’t keep his own on you for long, finding the silence and the tension unbearable.

“Yo!”

“H-hey Mammon.”

“…”

“I think I left my charger in here earlier, better check for it.”

“Oh. I can grab it for yo-”

“NO! N-nah, I mean I can come in n get it myself, ‘m not stupid.”

“I..never said you were?”

“J-just lemme in!”

Mammon pushes past you and walks into your room, trying to seem nonchalant as he pick up blankets and shoves them aside, kicking up clothes in pursuit of his charger. He’s not surprised to find it where he strategically left it after your TSL marathon last night. He grabs it with the fingers of one hand, looping his thumbs into his pockets before turning back around to face you.

“Listen…if ya scared of Levi-”

“I’m not..”

“Or any of my brother for that matter…I could…ya know, look out for ya…”

“Aren’t you already supposed to be doing that?”

You cock your eyebrow at him, whether in suspicion or bemusement he’s not too sure. Why was this so hard to get out?

“Very funny. What I’m tryin’ to say is I could stay with ya! To.. ya know… make you less…scared…”

“You want to stay in my room? Like, a sleepover?”

Okay. Now it’s definitely bemusement. He can feel the heat rising up to his cheeks, his shoulders tensing up and back as he prepares for dejection, to be laughed at. What was he doing in the first place? He was just trying to find a way to get these feelings to stop, to stop feeling this weird psychic like connection he now had to your human mood swings. And he figured the best way to do that was to ask to stay with you? Overnight? IN YOUR ROOM? ALONE?!?

With the implications now hitting the second born straight in the face, a flurry of words begin to fly out of his mouth at a rapid pace. He’s clamoring to bring the conversation back to normalcy, throwing in a few insults just to be sure, and doing what he does best: backpedaling! But that stupid face on your face makes it hard to form a coherent reasoning as to why he wouldn’t want to be caught dead hanging out with the human, and that rapid thump, thump, thumping in his chest that he’s sure is somehow your fault is too distraction to overlook, and oh fuck you’re opening your mouth to speak-

“Sure.”

“I mean it’s not like I’d WANT to stay in here with ya! In fact, think of it like a favor- or better yet, a service! I don’t work for fr- wait. Did you say sure?”

“Sure. I could use some company. Honestly I’ve been pretty lonely since I got here.”

The demon finds himself too stunned to speak. It takes a giggle from you to break him out of his trance.

“Yeah. Yeah! I mean, I’m The Great Mammon, who wouldn’t wanna chill with me! Just don’t tell my brothers I was hangin’ around ya!”

“Yeah, I got it. The whole never wanna be caught with the weak, “fragile human” thing.”

You pause and he notices how your face briefly falls before you catch yourself. He not sure what to make of that one. But he knows you feel a little hurt. Because he can feel it too.

“So.. wanna watch a movie?”

One and a half stale comedy movies later and the second born is finding it increasingly hard to keep his eyes open. He knows you feel it too as he glances over at your slumped form. Your eyes may be staring dead ahead at the tv set, but he knows you aren’t absorbing a single word being said. It takes him a few tries to grab your attention.

“Oi…Oi!”

You jump, startled at the voice coming next to you. You slowly rotate towards them, blinking a few times and stifling a yawn.

“You oughta lay down. Ya look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I suppose you’re right. I’m going to change into pajamas. Did you bring any?”

Mammon shakes his head, “Nah, I gotta run back to my room ‘n change. I’ll be right back.”

You give a nod before disappearing into the bathroom. Mammon stretches before standing and making his way out the door. He figures his usual bedtime attire would get him a swift slap to the face, so he opts to go to sleep clothed tonight, it being your room and all.

His usual swagger has become lose and hazy as he walks back into your room, adorned in sweatpants and a hoodie he’d managed to swipe off his floor. He doesn’t bother knocking as he grips the handle, throwing your door open and shutting it behind him and while staring down at his D.D.D.

“So, ya want me to take the couch or w-WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?”

His phone clatters to the ground as his eyes grow in shock.

“What! What do you mean?!”, you ask, glancing down at yourself to frantically locate what could possibly pull that kind of reaction out of the second born. The straps of your tank top allowed for much more skin to show than what Mammon was used to seeing from you, but surely that couldn’t be the cause of his concern.

“T-That! Ya didn’t tell me you had a huge tattoo on yer chest!”

Your eyes travel down to the scooped neck line and thin strap that adorned your body. That’s when it dawns on you - he’s never actually seen this before. The mark that you’ve seen everyday since that day in the kitchen. Since you traded Mammon his credit line for his free will.

“Oh that. I..I think that’s yours?”

“MINE!? WHADDYA MEAN MINE?!”

“It kinda showed up after that day in the kitchen. Where we did the kneeling thing in the circle?”

“My pact mark?! O-over top your heart!? Nuh-uh, no way. This can’t be happening.”

It was clear to see Mammon was in full blown panic mode, but as to why would be anyone’s guess.

“Well uh, I don’t remember sitting down to get a big ass tattoo of some kind of…crest? I don’t know, look at it, see for yourself.”

“Q-QUIT PULLIN’ YA SHIRT DOWN!”

Mammon practically runs across the room, shielding his eyes with one hand while grappling with you to leave your shirt alone with the other.

“Hey! I didn’t choose to put it there! Did you?”

“OI! OF COURSE NOT!”

“Stop screaming and tell me if it’s yours!”

Though his mind doesn’t want to, his eyes automatically look downwards towards the exposed area of your chest. There’s no mistaking it. He’d know his mark anywhere, he knows it like the back of his hand. The mark of his greed. The same mark that lay right over your heart. His mark. He takes a sharp breath in. It glows a bright, blinding golden shine. He feels his heart beginning to speed up once more.

Shit.

Mammon bolts out of your room.

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Ever since that occurrence, the second born has made himself as scarce as he possibly could be from your life. It’s not like Mammon could just neglect his duties as your watch dog, Lucifer would have his head if he did, and he fails to see how there’s any coming back from a punishment fit for “failing Lord Diavolo”. A shiver runs down his spine at the thought.

It was simple really, if he didn’t overthink it. Walk the human to and from R.A.D, make sure they’re not gettin’ picked on, NEVER talk about what happened last week and ALWAYS deflect if they brought it up. And Of COURSE you’d bring it up. Stupid humans and their inability to know when to just leave it alone.

It happens the first time he walks you to class after the fact. You didn’t run after him when he ran. Not surprising, he thought. “Musta thought they did somethin’ wrong”, he reflected alone, but then again, you did, didn’t you? You must have done something to make his mark, his crest, his claim fall perfectly atop the left side of your chest.

“Sooooo… are you gonna tell me why you ran away off the other night? If my shoulders were that spooky, I could have put on a t-shirt, you know.”

“I dunno what yer talkin’ about.”

The second born’s steely concentration remains aimed down at his D.D.D, where he currently typed furiously arguing with his brothers in the house’s group chat.

“Okay, so it’s not my shoulders. Was it these bad boys? You know, us humans can be pretty scary”, you grunt, drawing out the last words while flexing what little muscle you had in a teasing manner in an attempt to lighten the mood. Unfortunately for your dignity, Mammon doesn’t even throw a glance your way. “Uh huh, yea”, he mumbles, fingers continuing to fly across his keyboard.

Wanting to know what conversation he found so enthralling, you decide to slip your own D.D.D out of your pocket, clicking on the group chat notifications you’ve been receiving.

Leviathan: Ugh, I can’t believe I have to attend class today in person. I feel like such a normie.

Satan: Good. Maybe you’ll start to leave your room more often and stop being such a shut in.

Leviathan: Hey! If anyones a shut in lately, it’s Mammon! I’ve barely seen him at all this week! Every time I try to talk to him he says “he’s busy” and to “leave him alone”.

Lucifer: Interesting. Mammon, care to explain why you’re so busy?

Mammon: I’m not up to nothin’, I swear! I’m just studyin’ is all.

Asmodeus: Aww, are you too busy playing with your new human that you don’t have time for your own brothers?

Mammon: Shuddup! I’m watchin’ over them and that’s that.

Asmodeus: Don’t play dumb with us, Mammon <3 Levi told us all about what went down in the kitchen.

Mammon: LEVI! I SWEAR TA FATH- I DONT KNOW WHAT I SWEAR TO BUT IM GONNA KILL YA’

Beelzebub: Kitchen….

Mammon: BEEL YER NOT HELPING!

Satan: Did you really expect you could hide a newly form pact from us? The exchange student is absolutely radiating with your power now.

Asmodeus: Aw, I wanna make the human radiate too!

Mammon: I had no choice okay! They practically blackmailed me into it!

Leviathan: You could have said no, if you weren’t such a money grubbing scumbag.

Mammon: Hey! Goldie belongs to ME! I had to get her back no matter the cost.

Lucifer: That also sounds rather interesting. Mammon, care to explain?

Mammon: EEP!

Asmodeus: What I find rather interesting is that pact! I want all the details! Like, what did their face look like when you formed it? Was their mouth open? What sounds did they make? Did they sound like moans? Were they more beautiful than mine?

Mammon: Like I’m tellin’ ya any of that!

Asmodeus: Ooo I know! Where did the pact sigil form? <3

Finding the conversation now centering all around you, you decide to speak for yourself.

MC: On my chest. It sits a bit over my heart.

Mammon’s head shoots up to look at you, expression a mix of terror and shock. It was almost as if he forgot you were also apart of this conversation.

“Wha-WHY’D YA GO AND TELL EM’ THAT!”

“C-cause it’s the truth? Is it supposed to be a secret? They said they already knew?”

“Not about the pact! About the chest thing! About the h-heart thing!”

Suddenly your D.D.Ds notifications both start blaring at the same time, notifications buzzing much faster than they had before.

Asmodeus: Ooo Mammon ~ very bold of you <3

Leviathan: Eww gross… Are you kidding me? You guys met like what, not even three weeks ago?

Satan: I do have to say given the implications, that does seem very sudden.

You decide being the center talk of the HOL’s tabloid was not for you. If Mammon wasn’t going to give you answers, you were going to get them one way or another out of one of these boys.

MC: What ‘implications’?

“That’s it!”

You jump as you hear Mammon speak up next to you, reaching over to yank your D.D.D put of your hands and holding it over your head. You jump up and try to grab it from his grasp, but it’s not use.

“Hey! Give that back!”

“Nun-uh. Ya too distracted and at this rate we’re gonna be late.”

“Since when have you ever cared about being late?”

“Since Lucifer threatened to skin me alive if I don’t deliver ya to school on time. Now c’mon, let’s get goin’.”

Mammon slips his arm out of one strap of his bag and maneuvers it around to his front, unzipping a pocket and dropping your D.D.D inside.

“But, what if I need it for something? Like, an emergency!”

“Ya don’t need it. Ya got me remember. Don’t know how ya could forget with that big ass blemish on yer chest.” Though he mumbles the last part under his breath, it was just enough for you to hear.

“You…you think it’s a blemish?”, you ask, not feigning to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Oh no. Oh fuck. He can feel it again. That rapid beat beat beating of your heart, and the rising sadness beginning to bubble in your stomach.

“That’s not what I meant,” Mammon starts, but before he can finish the words are already leaving your mouth.

“You know, thanks for walking me, but I think I forgot something at HOL. I can find my own way back.”

“MC, wait!”

Now it was your turn to bolt away from him.

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#obey me #mammon #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date #om #omswd #obey me headcannons #obey me mc #mammon headcannons #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #om x reader #om x mc #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #om mammon #omswd mammon

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loki-hargreeves · 3 years ago

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An Eye For An Eye

Pairing: Marc Spector x f!Reader, Steven Grant x f!Reader, Jake Lockley x f!Reader

Warnings/Tags: Kidnapping, graphic descriptions of violence, death threats/thoughts of dying, mentions of body mutilation [doesn’t happen though], using a gun for self-defense, character death [murder], mentions of blood, dark undertones, hurt/comfort, angst, vulgar language, some references to Moon Knight comics, Marc is very sad, loads of crying, somewhat of a fluffy ending

Word Count: 13K [oops..]

Summary: Raul Bushman has a personal grudge against Marc Spector and he takes it out on you. When he kidnaps you, he taunts Marc by sending a video of you as his hostage. With the help of Khonshu, the Moon boys come to your rescue - which is unfortunate for Raul. Once you’re safe again, Marc can’t bring himself to face you because of the guilt so Steven and Jake take care of you.

A/N: Ok I realize it’s a bit bloody and teary but I had to get this out of my head. I hope you enjoy it! <3

DISCLAIMER! Please do not proceed to read this if the mentioned warnings and tags include topics that could possibly trigger or harm you. Take care of yourself.

“Darling, I’m home!” Steven’s cheerful voice replaced the silence of your shared flat as he finally came back home from work. The new museum he worked at was wonderful and his first week of being a tour guide had just come to an end. Steven was over the moon and knowing he was coming home to you only made him feel even better, as if he was literally walking on sunshine.

For once in his life, all seemed to be going so well. Steven felt invincible in a way. Little did he know of the drastic turn that would take place much sooner than anticipated.

When all he was met with was silence, Steven began to worry. Since you had told them you’d be home before them, it was odd that you weren’t there. Refusing to jump to conclusions, Steven pulled out his phone from his pocket and searched for you name in his contacts, calling you as he made his way further inside the apartment to inspect everything. The only sound he heard was the beeping dial tone.

You’d pick up and have an explanation. Everything was fine.

Steven turned the lights on and looked around the place. Your phone or wallet weren’t anywhere to be seen and the note he had left for you on the kitchen counter had been completely untouched. That was definitely odd. Usually you left a note for him too, especially if you were going somewhere. The bright, little notes were some of Steven’s favourite things.

“She’s not answering,” Steven said out loud, staring at the phone screen that let him know you hadn’t picked up the call. Marc and Jake were aware of what was going on, both of their minds racing to different places. Neither of those places were good.

Call her again, Marc demanded, trying hard not to let his fear get the best of him. Then again, Marc knew you. He knew that you would let them know if you wouldn’t show up when agreed. Perhaps for an ordinary couple, this wasn’t a big deal but Marc had enemies. Jake had enemies. Steven had them too, now. It was one of their greatest fears that one day those enemies would find you.

As Steven walked around the flat frantically, his heart began to beat harder all the way in his throat, it felt like. The dial tone was taunting him, making seconds feel like minutes as it kept on ringing.

“Pick up, pick up...please,” Steven made his way to the window, looking down at the London street that was illuminated by the yellow street lights. Darkness had swallowed the blue sky and you were somewhere out there, not picking up the phone. This was so unlike you and it gnawed at Steven’s heart. He didn’t even wish to imagine you in any sort of danger.

Shouldn’t have let her walk home at this hour alone! Jake had jumped to the worst conclusions. Steven looked at the man whose reflection showed up in the nearby mirror. Jake looked like he was about to explode from worry and anger, barely containing such intense feelings.

“Don’t say that!” Steven couldn’t bear it. There was no way he would let them assume the worst so soon. “Maybe she’s staying late. Let’s meet her half way, yeah? Come on, out we go!”

Steven was glad he hadn’t taken off his shoes yet as he rushed back outside, making sure he had his keys after the fact he had closed the front door and he was already in the elevator. The mirrors in the small space made it easy to see all the alters, yet somehow it wasn’t very comforting. Not when all of them were so clearly concerned over your safety. It was almost as if they just knew you weren’t staying late. This was much worse than that. There was a sick feeling in Steven’s gut as he stood there, waiting for the elevator to reach the ground floor.

The feeling was growing worse by the second, spreading like fire and tugging at his guts until he felt nauseous. What if Jake was right? What if you were hurt? Lying in a ditch somewhere, cold and beaten, all alone.

The notification sound of his phone snapped Steven out of his thoughts. He ripped the phone out of his pocket and felt a wave of relief crashing against him when he saw your name on the screen.

“Oh thank heavens,” Steven almost felt like laughing as he thought about how worried he felt. Overreacting never did any good for anyone. There he was now, unlocking his phone and waiting to see your message. In all honesty, Steven expected something short and simple, just letting him know you’d be able to call him soon. When he saw a video file with a pitch black background and no other message, the relief was stolen from him just as quickly as it had arrived.

Steven knew he had to open it but every cell in his body told him not to click it. He froze, brown eyes glued at the screen in terror as he anticipated what would happen next.

It was Marc who fronted next, taking control of the body as Steven took too long to think about his next actions. Marc pressed the play button and then took a deep breath, but nothing could’ve possibly prepared him for what they were all about to see.

The video began and immediately chains were more easily visible, leading up to you. There you were, chained to what looked like a bed in a dark room. The volume was on full but no sounds were heard. Whoever had filmed the video zoomed in on your face, eyelashes resting against your bloodied cheeks. To believe you were just asleep would've been foolish. Someone must've knocked you out one way or another, a realization that made Marc sick to his stomach. Blood was boiling in his body, so much so he could hear it in his ears and feel how his skin was set on fire with rage. Whoever did that to you would pay for it with their life. That was certain.

Suddenly, the person who was filming it flipped the camera and revealed his face. The man was smiling cruelly since he knew exactly who was watching the clip and how he was reacting. Marc recognized that evil gleam from anywhere since he knew this man extremely well. That was Raul Bushman. A mercenary, just like Marc used to be although these days Raul Bushman was better known as a fucking terrorist. Marc had hoped the past would stay in the past but evidently, it had not. Life wasn't ever that simple. Now Raul was there, in the present with you as his hostage. Knowing how wicked Raul was terrified Marc because he couldn't be sure he would find you in time.

Don't go there, you have to focus! Jake was already in action mode, planning on how they would track this man down and bring you back home safely. If they let panic overtake them then it could cost you your life. There was no way any of them could let that happen. Steven was dead silent for once, not finding a single thing to say at that moment. Fear had completely enveloped him, but not fear for his own sake. Steven was scared he'd never see you again and for what? Because a sick man wanted to hurt you? How was that fair?

"Marc Spector," Raul addressed Marc in the video, simultaneously letting Steven know that this was personal. Jake had recognized that tattooed face as well. Steven hadn't as Marc's memories of his mercenary past weren't something he could personally recall.

Marc was thinking about ripping Raul's face off as he anticipated what he was going to say next. Did he want money? That didn't seem likely. Whatever he wanted, Marc was willing to give it if he could get you back. The killing could happen afterwards.

"I've got your girl," Raul chuckled, enjoying this for some sick and twisted reason. "She's not very chatty anymore. You should've heard her earlier! Did you teach her to speak like that or did you find yourself a sailor? Very vulgar, Spector. So naughty."

Marc who is that? Steven's voice barely carried above a whisper as he stared at Marc from the reflection of the elevator mirror. The elevator had reached the first floor but they had no intentions of leaving just yet. Running around in circles with no leads would be a waste of time.

Marc ignored Steven and forced himself to keep watching the video, his grip on the phone so strong it was a miracle it hadn't snapped in half yet. That's when Jake began to explain things to Steven in the background, their words turning into a haze as Marc stood there, in utter shock and disbelief at it all. He could only watch as Raul flipped the camera over to you once again and that's when the tears threatened to spill. How could he have let something like this happen to you? The love of his life, the sweetest and most wonderful person that had ever walked the earth. Marc felt so guilty. If you were to die now he would never forgive himself. Not in a million years and more.

"I'm sure you'd love to hear some conditions or whatever but the truth is," Raul sighed dramatically as he caressed your cheek, wiping away the blood, "I have none. The only reason I'm doing this is because of you. I'm curious to know what made you so soft and pathetic. What a waste of a man you are."

Just like that, the video ended. Raul's words echoed in Marc's head loudly, drumming into his skull and every beat made him feel worse. Marc could hear Steven and Jake yelling but none of their words made sense. The overwhelming worry and anger were over-spilling and Marc couldn't take it. He turned on his heel and punched the mirror as hard as he could, letting out a pained and frustrated shout and most likely alarming everyone else in the building but he couldn't have cared less. The smashed mirror showed Marc thousands of small reflections as glass fell on the floor. Crimson red was running down his knuckles angrily, most likely dripping on the floor. Marc didn't care. He only cared about finding you.

So did Jake who took control, needing to work on his plan immediately and not let Marc or Steven waste any more time. Jake pressed the elevator button back to their floor, leaving blood on the buttons. Whoever walked into the elevator next would have a surprise awaiting them. Raul Bushman, on the other hand, had something much worse awaiting him. If he thought for one second that he was more powerful than them, he was wrong and Jake was going to hunt him down no matter what it took. Touching you was the biggest mistake the poor excuse of a man had ever made.

The first thing you noticed as consciousness was coming back to you was the dreadful headache you had. It made you whine in pain as you tried to roll over, only to realize you were unable to move your arms. Horror spread throughout you as you remembered what had happened, eyes popping open as you took in the dark surroundings. The room was dim and quite small too, with only a bed and a dresser. It didn't have a window so it was impossible to tell whether it was day or night. As creepy as it was, it didn't smell bad. You had expected the thick copper scent of blood to linger in the air or of something foul and rotting. Perhaps the cleanliness meant you weren't in a creepy dungeon but instead in a preoccupied building? Was that a good thing or not? You didn't know.

Stay calm, you repeated that to yourself as you took a few deep breaths. Freaking out wouldn't do you any good but it wasn't easy to steady your breaths either. As the memories came back to you, you could feel yourself slipping onto a world of doubt and worry. The man who had found you was absolutely terrifying. Not only was he tall enough to tower over you with ease, but his teeth also looked sharp and metallic. The man had scars all over his body and a look in his brown eyes that had told you he wasn't merciful at all. Years of hardships decorated every inch of his skin but he didn't seem to let that drag him down. He used it as armour, which made him evermore dangerous.

Just as you had feared, the door opened, allowing artificial light to pour inside for only a moment as he walked in. The door shut loudly and with a click, which meant it was locked. The tall man turned on the ceiling light, the single bulb hanging from the ceiling allowing you to see better, only to realize his cold eyes were glued to you. When he made his way further inside the small room, you could hardly hear his footsteps as your heart was thudding so loudly against your rib cage. How were you supposed to remain calm when a scary man had you chained down like an animal? What was he going to do? What did he want from you?

"You're awake sooner than expected," He finally spoke, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “Thought you’d be weaker.”

"What do you want from me?"

The man didn't reply instantly but judging by the stern look on his face, he had clearly heard you. For whatever reason he actually took his sweet time thinking about his reply as he circled the bed, never tearing his eyes off of you. As he reached the wooden dresser, he dragged a gun out of a holster and placed it on the surface with a loud thud, making sure it was pointed directly at you so even when the gun was untouched and simply resting on the dresser, it kept you on edge.

"What do I want from you? That's a silly question," He finally spoke, much more relaxed now that you were chained down and silent. "Nothing really. You're here because of Marc Spector," your lover's name was spoken as if it was poison on his tongue, every syllable tasting rancid.

"Why?" You decided it was better to talk to this man instead of being tortured. The more time you wasted like this, the better were your chances of survival. Surely, they were coming for you. The moment you thought about them, you felt a pang of guilt in your gut. Marc was probably freaking out by now. Steven must've been so scared. Jake? Oh Jake, he wouldn’t show it but you knew the protective man was ridden with anxiety. You didn't even want to imagine how stressed they must've been. Did they know you were there? Or did they think you had abandoned them?

The tall man pulled an old wooden chair next to the bed and sat down, being so close to you now that it made you worry. What was he going to do?

"Long ago, Marc and I used to be pals, if you will. He was a great mercenary. Unstoppable, quick, someone that a man like me could respect. Then something changed and he turned on us. Marc became soft, that rat," He spat angrily, slamming his large fist against the wall so hard you flinched, half expecting him to hit you instead. Your heart leapt to your throat and your eyes squeezed shut which you instantly regretted.

"Are you scared, love?" He mocked you, leaning closer to you so his foul breath landed on your skin, causing your hairs to stand on end. Stay calm.

“Anyway, I wanted to know what changed him and all leads came back to you. Funny how the same thing that made him soft is the same thing that makes him hard,” he laughed at his own wordplay, his belittling words making you feel dirty. What he was talking about was none of his business and you wanted to let him hear your thoughts, but decided to bite your tongue for now.

"W-What's your name?" You ignored him, focusing on your one and only task right now. Keep him talking. Nothing else mattered.

"You can call me Raul," He introduced himself while caressing your cheek. That's when you noticed it, his left hand only had three fingers. Raul caught you staring.

"Wanna know who did this to me?" Raul grabbed your jaw forcefully and made you face him. There was no warmth in his eyes, only deep and dark coldness that sent shivers down your spine. His touch was rough and it stung but you assumed it was better than whatever else it was he was capable of doing. Without knowing what else to do, you simply nodded, encouraging him to go on. By now, you felt your body betraying you as your limbs quivered underneath his touch. That's how easy it was for him to terrify you. At that moment, you wished you had abilities such as Khonshu had granted your lovers. You wished you could've broken free from these chains and returned home safely but alas, you couldn't. There you were, forced to look at this man and hear his stories, not knowing what was true and what wasn't.

"Marc did this," Raul revealed eventually, something about it making your gut twist in horror. Picturing Marc severing a man's fingers off was sickening. If it were true, you had to believe there was a good reason behind it. Khonshu only made him punish people who had already done evil things. This man was no exception.

"Tell me, sweetheart," Raul tilted his head slightly, "have you heard of the phrase 'an eye for an eye'?"

Who hadn't? You thought but kept that to yourself as you didn't wish to set him off. Somehow, it seemed like nothing was truly needed to set this man off as your silence alone was enough to push him into action.

Everything that happened next was surreal. You could only watch as Raul reached for something in his pocket, something that turned out to be a knife. It reflected the yellow ceiling light and you noticed just how sharp it was. There was a carved symbol on the blade which you didn't recognize but it didn't seem to matter when he grabbed your left hand that was still chained to the headboard.

"No! No, please! Please don't do this!" You screamed in shock when he pressed the sharp knife against the base of your index and middle fingers, not enough to cut your fingers off but your skin broke under the edge. "Please don't!" Panicked tears rolled down your face as you tried to wiggle free. It was of no use though and you both knew it.

"If you stop moving it'll be over sooner!" Raul yelled at you and then had the audacity to smile. The curve of his lips was sadistic, something straight out of nightmares. He enjoyed this.

Just as blood began to trickle down your palm, the hot liquid reminding you of how doomed you were, a phone rang in his pocket. That was your phone.

"Fucking hell!" Raul sighed, annoyed by the interruption but you were forever grateful because he stepped away and put the knife on the table next to the gun. So far, your digits were still intact but the ghastliness of what had almost happened shook you to the core, making you feel nauseous. The cut at the base of your fingers stung. Even without seeing it, you knew it'd leave a scar. A scar that would be much better than losing your fingers. As you were still recovering from the shock of what Raul nearly succeeded with, you didn't even realize what was happening.

Raul had answered the video call because Marc's face had shown up on the screen. He had anticipated a call again. As he picked up, he instantly turned the camera to you, letting Marc see what was happening.

"You have perfect timing, Spector. I was just about to cut her pretty little fingers off," Raul revealed casually as if he had no care in the world. He wanted to piss off Marc and it didn't seem like it frightened him at all. Either he was a fool or extremely powerful.

"Don't you fucking dare touch her!" Marc growled with wrath in his voice. You realized you had never heard him so angry ever before. His voice was alien, but at the same time, you found comfort in it. Was he going to find you? If so, would he be there in time? Would you see him again?

"If I do, what are you gonna do about it? There's not much you can do to stop me," Raul laughed again, grabbing the bloody knife and waving it around as he spoke. "I'm here, she's here and you're god-knows-where! Even if you do find us, you'll be too late! I will make you watch as I kill her, that I promise you!"

This couldn't be happening. This had to be a nightmare. If you had been able to, you would've pinched yourself. You felt so helpless as tears streamed down your face and you struggled against the cold chains that were wrapped so tightly around you that the skin beneath the metal was bruising at an alarming rate. Staying calm after hearing his morbid threats seemed like an impossible task.

If he was truly going to kill you, this could've been your last chance to speak to any of them. As much as the realization terrified you, you had to find the courage to speak again.

"I love you, baby, I'm so sorry," You sniffled, trying to see the screen but Raul didn't grant you the satisfaction of seeing Marc. "I'm sorry!" The apology poured from your lips quietly as the guilt was eating you alive. The violent sobs caused your lungs to feel like they were on fire and burning you up from within. Had you been more careful, this would've never happened. You were sure of it. If this twisted man took your life tonight, the happy future you had dreamt of would be ripped away from not only you but from them as well. It wasn't fair in any way.

"Don't interrupt me!" Raul shrieked all of a sudden, angered by your attitude. As he leapt toward you, phone in hand, Marc yelled something that got lost as you let out a startled scream. The next thing you knew, Raul hovered above you with the knife dangerously close to your neck. "Shut up! I don't want to hear this lovey-dovey shit, okay? Just be quiet!"

Beep beep beep

The call ended. Whether Raul accidentally ended it or Marc, it didn't matter. The line was lost and you feared that just like that, you would never hear from him ever again. Not another 'I love you' from Steven that he would tell you first thing in the morning. No more endearments from Jake in Spanish that always made your heart flutter with joy. No more vulnerable love confessions from Marc he would whisper to you when no one else was around.

For once, Khonshu was being useful. It was actually the Egyptian god who helped locate you. There wasn't anything that could happen at night that went by his sight. When even Jake was going bollocks over worry he felt for you, the god couldn't just let them run in circles and desperately try to find you. Raul Bushman was smart, unfortunately, and he made it near impossible to find him. Tracing the calls hadn’t worked and studying the background of the video revealed nothing.

Raul Bushman was well prepared, but Raul didn't have Khonshu. When the bird-headed god told Jake how to find you, he wasted no time getting a move on. After the video call where Raul revealed what he was about to do to you, it was urgent they got these as quickly as possible.

Khonshu wasn't too fond of you - or so he made it appear - but he was even less fond of Raul Bushman. There was no way he would let a worm like that kill you and also make his avatar distraught. The god knew that the loss of you would be detrimental. It would destroy his Moon Knight for good.

The Moon Knight suit came in handy as Marc soared across the starry sky, past the tall buildings in the city with one destination in mind. It wasn't the time to think about anything else than his next few moves. One wrong thought and his demeanour would falter. Your life was on the line here and he wasn't going to mess up now. And to think Raul Bushman had come back to haunt him and he didn't even bother to hide further away than the other side of London. The man was confident he could overpower Marc but that was a grave mistake. Marc would stop at nothing to make sure nothing like this would ever happen again. Had he been wiser, he would've killed Raul all those years ago during their run together in Cairo.

The location turned out to be a townhouse in the fancier parts of London, a mighty building that had stood there for hundreds of years. To people looking from the outside, it was beautiful and nothing about it really screamed that it was used by criminals. Marc's gut twisted painfully when he remembered you were in there, most likely scared for your very life. The way you had apologized to him over the phone as if any of this was your fault had killed a part of him inside. If anything, Marc felt as if this was his fault. You had done nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing at all.

Getting into the place wasn't hard at all. Instead, the trickier part was to be quiet. Marc wasn't going to risk your life by being loud and giving Raul a chance to finish things off before it was too late. The lights were all turned off, which led Marc to believe no one else was there but you and Raul. The people who owned the place rarely used it as it turned out the house was used for criminal gatherings every once in a while. No one lived there. As a hideout, it would've been wonderful if it was only used for hiding from regular people. Hiding from gods and their avatars on the other hand was much trickier.

By now, blood was boiling in Marc's veins. He felt like an enraged animal that was hunting for prey, following its bloody trail with a deep hunger. Nothing could possibly get in his way now. He squeezed the golden crescent moon darts tighter in a desperate attempt to remain calm, steering away the dark thundering clouds in his head that carried with them his deepest fears. With somewhat of a clear mind, silent for once as none of the alters dared to make a peep, Marc navigated down the stairs and toward where he believed you were. His pounding heart was the only sound he could hear, for now, the muscle convulsing dangerously and so hard it wouldn't have been too much of a surprise if Raul could hear it.

"Nooo!" You let out a deep cry, riddled with pain caused by the weapon that had just made contact with your temple. Between all the threats Raul directed at you and your own fears, you felt lost. You didn't know what you were begging of or asking him not to do. There wasn't time for you to gather your thoughts as this scary man was losing his patience with you and with Marc who still hadn't shown up. Despite his claims of not using you as bait to lure him here, you didn't believe him. Raul was looking for revenge and he was willing to kill two birds with one stone.

Knowing you were used as bait to lure your lover into doom only strengthened the guilt. Somehow that hurt more than the physical pain he had brought upon you. No amount of blood or bruises could amount to the realization of how sick and twisted this was and what part you played in it all.

The most recent blow he had delivered to you had been worse than the others, causing your vision to blur and you to feel ill. Your stomach was bubbling in a nauseating way and you weren't sure if you would be able to keep your lunch down for much longer. The throbbing headache was only getting worse and you noticed that you couldn't focus your vision on anything anymore. Was your body giving up this easily or was it trying to defend you from what was to come by numbing everything out quicker? At this point, thinking felt too difficult of a task. Raul was pacing around the room in his rage, probably filming you still but you didn't make any sense of it anymore.

Blood coated your tongue and that was what you focused on as you rested against the thin pillow, wishing you were at home instead. At home, in your bed, next to the man you loved. Instead of tasting the iron in your mouth, you wished you had a cup of hot chocolate that Jake was surprisingly good at making. He usually added a pinch of chili to the sweet drink and it tasted divine. You wished you were in a warm bath with Marc, getting your back rubbed by his loving touch after a long day. You wanted to listen to Steven's voice as he read you to sleep. Who was the god he was reading to you about last night? Taweret? That must've been it. The goddess of fertility and childbirth. Thinking of that in such a dark moment was oddly comforting, bringing you the tiniest amount of peace in the midst of fear you had never felt before, fear that made your bones shake and your heart heavy with sorrow.

Little did you know your last act of consciousness had alerted Marc of your whereabouts. Just as you slipped into unconsciousness, your exhausted body unable to take any more of the pain, you caught a glimpse of a pair of white, glowing eyes. He had found you.

Raul hadn't heard Marc arriving and none of the alarms in the building had alerted him. However, when the man wrapped in mummy bindings and with bright, glowing eyes attacked Raul, he could only feel excitement. This was his chance to defeat Marc once and for all, make him suffer like how Marc had made him suffer. An eye for an eye. Raul took that very seriously.

Marc grabbed Raul by his torso and launched him against the wall so hard it sent the man right into the next room. Dust from within the walls exploded into the air, making it hard to see into the other room for a moment but that didn't stop Marc who followed Raul without any hesitation.

"Took you long enough!" Raul got up from the floor just in time, spitting blood on the floor as he braced himself for Marc's next move.

Marc clenched his jaw together and threw both darts at his former acquaintance, not surprised when all they did was scratch the surface. Marc grabbed more darts from his chest, glad he wasn't going to run out of them anytime soon as they magically reappeared thanks to Khonshu's powers.

As Marc leapt at Raul again, the taller man grabbed him and rolled both of them around. When Marc fell to the ground with Raul, he rolled over and lunged the sharp moon dart right into his chest, ripping a string of curses from his enemy's mouth.

"You're gonna regret ever laying a finger on her," Marc growled eerily, twisting the sharp dart that had sunk into Raul's flesh, feeling how the man's blood soaked his white glove. Having mercy was the last thing on Marc's mind now. He was going to make Raul pay for his mistake.

Meanwhile, you were slipping in and out of consciousness, unable to stay in the dark when you heard crashing and screaming nearby. As you opened your eyes and blinked a few times, you realized what was going on and it sent a rush of adrenaline through you. Marc was there for you but you were still chained to the bed. Trying to free yourself hadn't worked earlier but now that your hands were covered in sweat and blood, you decided to give it another try. Desperately, you tried to wiggle and pull your hands free, biting your tongue when the action hurt. The chains were pressing against your thumbs painfully but you knew you would be able to pull yourself free if you just tugged a little harder.

"Fuck..." You cursed under your breath and then yanked your hands toward your chest. To your surprise, your hands slipped out of the chains. The adrenaline that coursed throughout your body concealed just how much it had hurt. With all the strength you had left and with worry for your loved one who was fighting this monster all alone, you limped to the dresser where the gun was. Bloody fingers wrapped around the weapon and you were surprised by how heavy it felt in your shaking hands. There was a hole in the wall and as you narrowed your eyes looking through it, you saw... Steven? Yes. Steven was definitely the one in the suit, giving Raul a piece of his mind with the help of his truncheons.

"You messed up big time, mate," Steven's choice of words didn't match the hatred in the tone of his voice. He didn't sound much like himself as he was blinded by rage, acting the opposite of the sweet and loving man you knew. As Mr Knight, he used all his strength to deliver a blow against Raul's gut, not finding an ounce of pity as the grown man cried out in pain. The sight was surreal but you couldn't look away. Whether this was a dream or not, you were glad to see it. Perhaps it was wrong, you just didn't care. Your moral compass had been shattered by the hands of the man who had hurt you the same way just moments before.

In the blink of an eye, you found yourself now looking at Jake who didn't let Raul fall on the floor. Instead, he held him by his crimson covered shirt and pressed his fingers into the deep wound Marc had made with his dart earlier, feeling how the blood oozed out of it. "That is for just thinking about her!" He pushed Raul against a bookshelf, the impact knocking the books all over the floor and the shelves snapping in half.

"And this is for hurting her."

When Jake proceeded to attack him again, you had to look away. Part of it was because you felt lightheaded and standing on your own proved to be much more difficult than it should've been. The other part was that Jake's violent ways were not for the faint-hearted to see. As you stumbled on the floor, it alarmed both of the men. For a split second, Jake was distracted as he hadn't noticed you getting up and Raul used that to his advantage.

As Raul tried to bite Jake with his sharp, metal teeth, something within you snapped. You pointed his own gun at him and pulled the trigger, shooting him in the leg before you even knew what you were doing. The loud bang made your ears ring and you dropped the gun, stunned when you watched Raul freeze on the spot. The bullet had pierced him and stopped him from going absolutely feral, yet it didn't seem to put an end to his wrath. Raul turned on his heel and tried to run toward you despite his injuries, seeing red now that you had shot him. Before he could take one too many steps, Marc stopped him.

All you could do was watch from the cold floor as Marc did his job. You had just shot someone. The gun was laying on the floor and you stared at it in disbelief, replaying the moment in your head like a broken record. All your pain was gone and you felt numb. When you looked at your hands, your own blood no longer felt like it belonged to you. Sure, you had shot a horrible man who was about to possibly hurt Jake but it still felt repulsive. A sickening feeling poured all over like thick goo you that you couldn’t shake off. It was useless trying to focus on the fight that was taking place right in front of your nose. The sounds of furniture breaking and bones cracking were completely shut out of your head.

Everything that had happened in just one night was too much for you to handle. There was only so much you could process at once. You had never hurt anyone before. Not like that. This was never supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.

When suddenly Marc was kneeling on the floor in front of you, you finally snapped out of it. The passage of time confused you as you didn't know if ten seconds had passed or ten minutes. Marc looked at you with nothing but concern all over his face, every trace of anger far gone. Had he been talking to you?

"Oh baby thank god you're alive," Marc wanted to hold you but he was terrified of hurting you. He viewed you like an ancient artefact that could turn to dust with one touch. Seeing the evidence of Raul's abuse against you was tearing his heart apart in his chest and he felt each and every tear on a molecular level. You looked so out of it as if your mind was far away although your eyes gazed right into his. The innocent gleam had been chased away from your soul. Marc noticed it immediately and that was crushing. His sweet angel was hurt and he could only blame himself for it.

"Is he...?" Dead was the word you were looking for but couldn't say out loud. Would you be responsible for a man's death? Had the bullet torn apart important veins and caused him to bleed out?

"No," Marc shook his head. Not yet. Raul wasn't far away from it though but Marc was more worried about you than the man who was surely taking his last breaths anyway. The moment he had a chance to see how you were doing, he had taken it. What Marc hadn't expected was how bad everything was. Had it been wishful thinking to imagine he would've made it in time before Raul had hurt you? How foolish had it been of him to imagine Raul fucking Bushman would wait to hurt someone? Marc knew better than anyone what that man was capable of.

"Can you walk?" Marc inquired, not sure if he really wanted to hear your answer though. He wanted to make sure you weren't there to see what he was about to do in a hopeless attempt to grasp onto the remaining purity of your heart and soul. Besides he knew seeing death changed a person in more ways than you'd think. The last thing he wanted was for you to have to witness that.

As you remained quiet, now staring at your trembling hands, Marc knew he wasn't going to get through to you. As gently as he could, he wrapped his strong arms around you and helped you to your feet. Marc saw the gun on the floor next to a phone that was still recording everything, only now facing the floor so it only recorded sound. It was your phone and it was gnarly to think Raul had recorded everything with the ambition in mind to send it all to Marc. Ever so carefully, Marc guided you out of the room that would surely be in many nightmares to come and into the dark hallway. No one else had joined the party as far as he and Khonshu were aware so Marc felt it was safe enough to leave you alone for just a few more seconds.

There was a leather armchair in the hallway and Marc made you sit down on it, which you didn't mind. Everything happened in a blur and it was difficult to focus on anything in that state. He began ripping his Moon Knight costume, the magic bindings reappearing seemingly out of nowhere as he used it to wrap the deepest wounds he could see on you. At that point, Marc had to fight hard against his own body to hold back his tears, trying to stay strong for just a little longer. It was really difficult though when he was wrapping your fingers together to stop the bleeding of a wound that resembled something he had inflicted upon someone else years ago. Marc thought he had seen enough shit for one lifetime but this? This was crushing him in every possible way.

Unbeknownst to you, Khonshu was looming over Marc's shoulder and keeping guard - not that the god would say that out loud. It wasn't that big of a deal for him to make sure his avatar didn't get ambushed, right?

"He is still breathing," Khonshu broke the heavy silence in the townhouse that allowed Marc's thoughts to spiral into a dark place. Khonshu wanted Raul to pay the ultimate price for his actions and waiting patiently for Marc to get a move on was boring. The sooner they got it over with, the better.

Marc nodded to himself and then tightened the material in hopes it would stop the bleeding. "I'll be right back, I promise," He assured you softly. Marc didn't need to say what he was about to do for you weren't stupid. All you could do was nod, feeling nothing at all as Marc stood up and retraced his steps back to the room in which Raul was bleeding out. Not even fear as you sat alone in the dark hallway as your own thoughts drowned out the world around you.

Raul had severely underestimated Marc Spector, not knowing to expect the full wrath of a man enhanced by the powers of an ancient god. Not only that, he had enraged Marc and the two alters who all fronted to show him their rage. In his final moment on the cold, dirty floor, he was staring down into the barrel of the gun and then the man holding it, unsure exactly who he was looking at. Perhaps in some way, all three of them were holding that gun, all three men wanting the same thing - to end this man's life. Raul would never know who truly pulled that trigger.

The very last thing he ever heard was the scolding words of a man who took vengeance very seriously, especially when it came to injustices against the woman he loved;

"You fucked up the moment you decided to go after her and I'm not letting you make that mistake ever again."

Getting home and the entire process of getting washed and your wounds patched up had passed you near completely as you zoned out. It wasn't until Steven was putting one of his t-shirts on you that you really seemed to grasp where you were. Sure, you remembered glimpses of Marc getting you out of that building. He had insisted on taking you to a hospital as he seemed to have lost all care for himself, not giving a damn if the staff would've called the police on him and found out why he was covered in blood. But you didn't want that to happen. You didn't want to see any more people. All you wanted was to go home and be sheltered away from the rest of the world.

Jake was the one who cleaned your wounds. Luckily, they weren't too bad, nothing that would hold you back forever. What had hurt you the most was the mental toll of what had happened. Healing within would take so much longer and Jake was going to stay by your side the entire time. After he had cleaned your wounds, stitched you up and given you a bath, he wasn't sure what to do. It was late, the clock nearing the morning by now but neither of you felt like going to bed.

Steven was fronting at that point and he was worried sick about you because you barely spoke. Not that he was surprised or that he wanted to push the words out of your mouth, he was simply concerned. No one could blame him. The love of his life, the human version of an actual ray of sunshine who was never supposed to get hurt, was scarred so deeply. If he could turn back time, he would've done it in a heartbeat.

"Darling," Steven slipped the shirt over your head gently, making sure to stretch the fabric in order to avoid touching the deep, purple bruises and stitched up wounds. You barely lifted your arms to make an effort to ease the job. You didn't mean to be difficult or distant, it just happened. Every time you tried to focus on the present, a wave of utter pain threatened to crash against you and you didn't want that to happen, so you pushed it away. Prolonging it was most likely only making it worse but you were so scared of embracing what had happened. When you blinked, you could see the man's dead body on the floor, a picture your brain cruelly created to taunt you. Marc hadn’t let you see Raul’s corpse, but your mind was creative enough to give you a front row seat one way or another.

Although Raul had hurt you and stated he wanted to kill Marc, knowing he was dead made you feel strange. That man had been a monster yet you felt shaken by his death somehow. How much part did you have in it? Would they find his body and throw you in a cell? Would his friends come after you? After Marc?

"Hey," Steven could feel his heart continuing to break as he watched that empty look on your face, "talk to me, love. Please. Just please don't bottle this up, I'm here for you." Steven knew that if you kept all of these thoughts to yourself, that eventually it would break you furthermore. It wasn't healthy and yet at the same time, he was aware of the fact talking about it was possibly just as difficult but in the end, it would mean so much.

"He wanted to kill you," You finally managed to say something more than just a word or two. Raul had kidnapped you because he wanted to kill the man you loved that badly. Trying to accept that was hard as you couldn't picture hating Marc so much. Marc was wonderful. One had to be a true monster to find him so despicable.

"But he didn't," Steven reminded you, taking a hold of your right hand and he gave you a gentle squeeze as he intertwined your fingers. You could only watch as Steven brought your knuckles to his lips and he placed a soft kiss on your skin. The tender touch went straight to your heart, pulling at the strings that made you tear up. God you loved him so much and it pained you deeply to shut off like this. If only you knew how, you'd let him back in instantly.

Steven noticed the glistening tears in your weary eyes. "Oh love," it was difficult to keep his own tears at bay once he saw you like that. When you leaned against his chest and wrapped your arms around him, it took the man by surprise. Steven hadn't anticipated that but he was happy to hold you too, knowing you were finally letting your emotions out. Determined as hell, Steven was going to be your rock. In his mind, it was the least he could do.

When you felt his hand between your shoulderblades, caressing you gently and lovingly, you felt yourself relaxing against him. Tears kept spilling from your eyes and you were coughing in-between sobs, but letting it out felt kind of good as well. The tangled web within your soul was unraveling with every tear and every caring touch patched a crack in your heart. You were safe and nothing could happen to you now. They made sure of it.

As you thought of what they had done for you, an enormous amount of gratitude surged from within. You held Steven even tighter, wanting to thank him but you couldn't get the words out of your mouth, lips quivering as you wept. They hadn't only come to rescue you but they made sure Raul would never hurt you or anyone for that matter again. Having only shot him, you felt horrible. No matter how well Jake washed your hands, you couldn't shake off the sticky feeling that coated your skin. It seemed impossible to imagine how taking a life must've been like yet they had done it. For you.

Steven's cologne filled your lungs as you pressed your tear-stained face against his chest, probably leaving marks on the fabric but neither of you really cared. The familiar, clean scent was oddly calming and eventually, the rough and painful sobs calmed down. Your fingers clung onto his back tightly because you longed to stay close to him. His tender embrace and familiar scent was grounding you and every once in a while, Steven would whisper reassuring things to you. Being loved by him made you feel so lucky.

"Thank you," You managed after a while, barely finding your voice after screaming and crying so much in just one day. Your throat felt as dry as the desert but it seemed to be the least of your worries.

"You don't need to thank me, love. Not at all," Steven was genuinely surprised to hear that. He was shocked that you weren't running away from them actually. Why you decided to stay when their presence attracted such horrible people was beyond him but there you were. But you were together, even if you were to leave Steven was terrified more mysterious boogeymen from the past would come after you. Just thinking about it gave him an even worse headache than he already had. All he knew was that he couldn't make you thank them because truth be told, Marc wasn't the only one who felt guilty.

"You saved me," You looked up to him with red and puffy eyes, feeling sick of crying at that point. If only making it stop was that easy.

"You shouldn't have needed saving in the first place," Steven acknowledged, the words feeling like a punch in the gut. He hated that it was true.

They were all blaming themselves and you hated it. Sure, you had blamed yourself for this too but at the end of the day, Raul Bushman had been the one to initiate everything for his own selfish desires. There was one person to blame for this and that person was dead.

Steven felt a tear rolling down his cheek which he didn't even bother to wipe away as he looked at you with such deep love and compassion on his face it was almost overwhelming. What he seemed to tell you with his eyes did more justice than what a thousand words ever could've.

"Steven, my love,," You took a deep shaky breath and then lifted your arm to wipe his stray tear away, noticing how Steven leaned ever so softly against your touch. Hours earlier he had feared he would never be able to do that again. "Don't blame yourself. None of you should."

Steven didn't say it, but he instantly thought of Marc who had completely shut himself off. Not even Jake could reach him. Marc was loathing in guilt and no one knew when he would front again as he had made it very clear he felt as if he was a curse upon you. A wretched old affliction that was destined to continue causing you harm no matter what he attempted to do to stop it.

Steven blinked as the tears just kept coming. He felt awful because he thought he was supposed to be the strong one to be there for you but as time passed, he too began to process everything that happened. Had they been late, you would've been long gone by now. Tonight had been too dangerous, the worst possible scenario had been too close to coming true.

As you felt Steven shaking underneath your touch, you swore you wanted to bring Raul back from the dead just to kill him again. Seeing the kind man that you loved so much being in so much pain over worry he felt for you was like walking on burning shards of glass. You were just both two people who had been terrified of losing one another and you both carried guilt that you absolutely shouldn't have.

You cupped Steven's face, pulling him toward you as he willingly let you do so just to press a kiss on the bridge of his nose. Then you guided him to the crook of your neck, wrapping your arms over his shoulder and allowing Steven to pull you closer by the waist. The two of you held onto each other as if you were scared of letting of. The only comfort in the world you could find was in each other's arms. Steven inhaled your scent, convinced he could find paradise in the soapy fragrance. It was safe because it was you. You were alright.

Eventually, the exhaustion caught up to you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you leaned against Steven, not sure if you were about to yawn or sob as your lips parted. A yawn ripped from you and you somehow relaxed even more, unaware of how tense you had actually been. If Steven had let you, you would've fallen asleep just like that, in his arms where you felt separated you from everything else, the rotten outside world. The bubble he created for you was soothing, a place where one could stay forever and feel okay.

The last thing you remembered before passing out from pure exhaustion was Steven ever so carefully guiding you toward the pillows and tucking you in. Whether he kissed your forehead or you just dreamt it, you didn't know but it didn't really matter. After that, everything was filmy. Pitch black unconsciousness swallowed you whole and for a moment, the misery that had soaked into your every cell was far away.

Jake couldn't sleep. Steven had dosed off into broken sleep but it was Jake who woke up and stayed awake afterwards. It wasn't a difficult task for him to keep his eyes open as the sun began to rise outside. He had made sure the front door was locked and that no shady people were around the apartment complex. Jake had even gone out of his way to make sure their tracks were covered. All seemed well, at least on paper. No one could prove what they had done and no one was coming for you. All seemed well yet you were far from well as far as Jake was concerned.

He sat down on the bed eventually and tried to relax, making sure he didn't disturb your much needed rest. Jake knew the danger had been dealt with but part of him couldn't relax. Something cruel within told him people were out there, waiting for the first chance they'd get to harm you. So there he was, guarding you and at the very least giving you a chance to rest. As Jake's dark brown eyes focused on the steady rise and fall of your chest, he felt how deep, sharp claws sunk into his heart. Anger bubbled within him but to his surprise, that wasn't strong enough to push away the sorrow he harboured. Someone had hurt you and Jake couldn't comprehend it.

As you looked at your sleeping figure, studying the way your lashes touched your cheeks and how your lips parted a little bit when your cheek squished against the soft pillow, he struggled to comprehend how anyone was capable of harming you. Dark eyes roamed down your body, scarring every little bruise and cut on your exposed skin. Eventually, Jake looked at your fingers that clutched onto the blanket. He remembered when Marc had taken Raul's fingers as a wicked warning to keep his hands off of people. It had been a mistake to simply warn a man like that. They should've gotten rid of him then and there.

Raul hadn't just hurt you. All those years ago, while on a mission in Cairo they had come across surprise witnesses. People who weren't supposed to be there. People that the higher ups who paid them wanted to get rid of. Marc hadn't had it in him to kill a child but Raul almost did that. Almost, as Marc had stopped him just in time. That's why Marc had done what he did, hoping it would keep Raul from ever even thinking about hurting kids. Surely there had to be a line drawn somewhere, right? Not for Raul. Raul didn't care about who he had to get rid of in order to succeed with his ambitions. At least, he would never get another chance to do anything ever again.

When you yelped, breaking the silence that had lingered in the flat, Jake nearly jumped to his feet. He had been deep in thought that he hadn't heard you waking up so afraid. For a moment, you felt panicked and you had to pull your hands to your chest to make sure you weren't chained to a bedframe. Being able to move freely was so relieving but it didn't last long when you noticed the dull ache in your every bone and muscle.

Jake took a hold of your hand, wanting to comfort you in any way he could as you woke up to a new day. "You're safe, mi vida. I've got you."

Hearing Jake's voice made you feel so much lighter instantly. Although you had been able to sleep for a few hours, you somehow felt more tired now than you did before falling asleep. But it didn't matter. You enjoyed the fact that you were safe, just as Jake promised. Being home and completely shielded from any danger was a wonderful feeling and you focused on that instead of the sense of impending doom that was trying to shake you off balance. Nothing bad would happen now.

"Have you slept at all?" You mumbled tiredly as you sat up, trying to rub the weariness from your eyes. It felt like your body was on fire, not in a good way. Last night, the adrenaline had managed to dull most of the pain but now that you knew you were safe and had been able to relax, the discomfort seemed to have intensified.

"A little," Jake shrugged as he stood up. He could tell by the way you were moving that you were hurting so he decided to grab painkillers and a glass of water. As he returned from the kitchen with them, he gave you the pill and made sure you drank enough water. Jake knew how to be caring and attentive too, he just wasn't too verbal about it. Words didn't come easily to him, or when they did the timing wasn't the best either. Actions spoke louder than words anyway, he thought.

That day you didn't manage to get much done, not the next few days either for that matter. As the shock from the horrendous night still rattled you all, you could only stay inside. As the third day came around the corner, you were still mostly in bed or on the couch, unable to pull your head out of the dreadful place it found itself in. Jake and Steven had both fronted many times but it was mostly Steven who kept you company and tried to cheer you up. Marc hadn't shown up not even once after he had brought you back home. He hadn't come back as he promised. Not even when you were asleep.

Steven had gotten out of bed for the day, leaving you to slumber in hopes you were able to relax at least in your rest. You fell asleep again several times, only sleeping for a few minutes at a time when sudden fear woke you up again. It always seemed to come out of the blue and it passed just as quickly. The more it kept happening, the worse it felt. Around the time the sun was setting again and you still hadn't gotten out of bed, your anxiety was threatening to get the best of you.

Steven was in the kitchen, making something for you to eat since you hadn't eaten much at all yet. He wanted to take care of you and covering the basics such as making sure you ate was the least he felt he could do. As he stirred the pasta sauce, Steven had to really keep fight to keep his negative thoughts away. He hadn't slept well, obviously, and it seemed to take a toll on him now. He had almost lost you. No matter how many times he reminded himself that you were alright, he felt rotten to the core. What had he done if Raul had actually succeeded in his plan? Steven couldn't even imagine the scenario. That was too sinister.

The next time your anxiety awoke you, it felt like an invisible hand was squeezing at your throat. You sat up in bed and could physically feel your stomach turning upside down in distress. You bent over and dug your nails into your thighs, trying to drown your whimpers by biting your lips together. Only one thing repeated itself in your mind like a chant, you shot someone. You almost died and you shot someone. You did that.

As a sick feeling within you only grew worse, you forced yourself out of bed and to the bathroom. Unsure whether you'd get sick or not, you decided to sit down on the cold tile floor near the toilet just in case. That's when the tears got to you again and it was frustrating, making you entangle your fingers in your hair and scratch at your scalp. Why couldn't you stay calm? Why couldn't you accept that it was over? What happened had happened and now everything was fine. Why was it so damn hard to stay calm?

Marc. You missed Marc. He had shut off completely and it was devastating. Was he angry at you? Could it be? Raul had done this to anger Marc specifically. Did Marc blame you in some way? As wrong as it seemed, you weren't sure if anything could surprise you anymore. The longer he stayed hidden, the longer you were left to make your own conclusions.

"Love? Are you in here? I've made dinner," Steven's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Hearing him was like music to your ears. He was like a warm blanket that chased away the coldness that threatened to turn you to ice. Your heart swelled in your chest with love for him because you were sure you'd be a wreck without the sweet man.

"Yeah," After taking a few deep breaths, you felt somewhat better and got up from the floor. As long as you tried getting out of your head, you were sure you'd feel better. So you walked out of the bathroom and let Steven serve you a plate of pasta although you were certain you could've helped yourself too. Steven was going out of his way to be thoughtful and as nice as it was, it made you fear he was doing so out of guilt. How long would this last? How long would you all be broken because of one man?

The two of you sat on the couch as you ate, mindlessly watching the TV that filled in the silent gaps. Usually, you and Steven would be talking nonstop and probably pissing off the neighbours too. Now conversation was hard. Just existing felt like a chore but at least every day that passed made it a little bit less awful.

"Steven?" You were nervous about what you wanted to say so you avoided facing him, instead focusing on the pasta that swirled around your fork.

"Yes?"

By now, you could feel the familiar heavy thud of your heart. "Have you heard from Marc?"

Steven wasn't a fool. He knew you noticed Marc's absence as well as he and Jake did too, if not even better. Until now, neither of you had mentioned it though. Steven didn't want to upset you any more than people already had. For a split second, he thought of brushing it off with a somewhat cheerful statement, but discarded that quickly. You didn't deserve that. You were hurt, not stupid. Treating you like a child and walking on eggshells around you couldn't possibly do any more good than it would do harm.

With a sigh, Steven put his plate down on the coffeetable right next to a book he hadn't touched in days now.

"No, not really," Steven admitted and dared to glance your way. "I'm sorry."

“‘s not your fault.”

“Well I’m still sorry, love.”

"Is he mad?" You mimicked Steven by placing your plate on the coffeetable, too agitated to focus on eating the rest of your food. The queasy feeling from earlier was creeping right back to you at an alarming rate. To say you were discouraged was an understatement, going through a cycle of sickness and dread ten times an hour.

Steven couldn't believe you honestly thought so. "Mad?" He had to be sure he heard right. When he saw the fearful look on your face, he knew he had. "No, not at all. He's just... well, if he's mad at anyone it's at himself."

"He can't blame himself for what happened!" You hoped that somehow, someway, Marc could hear you. "Gosh he's so stubborn sometimes," You didn't mean it in a malicious way, not at all. You loved Marc and you wished you could just speak to him and convince him he wasn't blameworthy of anything.

"Yeah," Steven pulled his lips into a thin line, side-glancing at the reflection in Gus' tank. Marc was there but he certainly wasn't saying anything. The man seemed out of it, his usual demeanour completely shattered. Jake was trying to convince Marc to just talk to you. Steven wished you could hear and see what he was seeing sometimes.

In an attempt to ease your mind, Steven moved closer to you on the couch and invited you into a hug. The people on the television were overly cheerful and giddy considering the gloomy atmosphere in the flat as bright colours flashed from the screen, painting the otherwise dark room in pinks and yellows. You leaned against Steven's welcoming frame and tried to stay calm, knowing Marc was in there somewhere. He'd have to show up sooner or later, right? He couldn't hide from you forever.

For once, it was you who was awake and Steven was asleep. Or at least you had been cuddling with Steven just moments earlier. It was a dead giveaway he was finally sleeping when you heard a light snore every once in a while between the deep and calm breaths. For a moment, you focused on that alone, letting the simple sounds of his breaths and heartbeat chase away the rest of the world. To you, sleep didn't come easy that night and neither were you sleepy. Just tired in every other possible way.

"I wish you weren't so hard on yourself, Marc," The words left your mouth as hardly louder than a whisper, as you did not wish to wake him up. The longer Marc stayed hidden, either too ashamed to face you or too heartbroken to front, you felt so sorry for him. It was killing you to know Marc couldn't bring himself to talk to you.

Fingers carefully traced the blanket that weighed over his waist. You rested your palm against his chest, needing to feel the subtle movement that kept you grounded to this moment. Slowly you got closer so that you could pepper kisses along his shoulder, inhaling his scent and enjoying the warmth of his body against yours. Even if you couldn't sleep, being close like this brought you some sort of relaxation and peace.

"I love you." Perhaps it was foolish, perhaps it was exactly what you needed, you closed your eyes and held onto him tighter, picturing a night from many weeks ago that reminded you of Marc. In your mind, it was that night and nothing horrible had happened yet. You were just close to each other, just two lovers enjoying the calm night after a lovely day together. There was no pain or guilt to be seen or felt.

The next morning, it was Marc that awoke to a new day. It was still early, way too early to actually get out of bed but he quickly knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again. Your body was pressed against his and Marc felt his heart sinking to the very bottom of his stomach. He hadn't been able to speak to you or even really look at you since that night. Now there he was, with an arm wrapped around you and panic stirring within him. Although part of him longed to hold you and make sure you were alright, it almost physically pained him to be there. He saw the healing bruises on your skin, now tinted in a yellowish hue. They were scattered all over you, each small and bigger bruise making Marc enraged. How had he let this happen?

Gently, Marc pulled the blanket aside more, revealing your thighs and seeing the damage all the way down your legs. He saw the cut Jake had stitched in the bathroom that night. Marc traced his fingers over your skin so softly he wasn't even sure he was really touching you. Memories of that night came back to him, visions he had been stuck thinking of for a week straight with seemingly no break. He remembered how scared he felt when he first saw you chained to that bed. Marc had been terrified when he learned it was Raul who held you captive. That night was easily the worst of his life that was full of horrible days and nights. That night he almost lost you, the light of his dark and gloomy life.

"Marc?" You hadn't been in deep sleep so when you sensed shifting next to you, it was easy to tell you weren't the only one awake. It had been wishful thinking to picture it was Marc but sometimes wishful thinking turned out to be correct.

You saw it in his eyes. There was a familiar look in those brown irises, a light that only shone for him. Then you saw it in the way he carried himself. There were small things that gave the truth away. It really was Marc. Instantly, you felt wide awake as you faced your lover, nearly afraid to blink in case he would disappear again. "Marc..."

"I didn't mean to wake you," Marc failed to meet your gaze, holding himself together by a thread that was just about to snap. He thought about how he had carried you, how your blood had stained his clothes and how he was convinced you would see him as the monster he thought he was after everything that happened. You were all he had and despite being right next to you, Marc felt as if he had lost you already. After everything that happened, he knew nothing would ever be the same and he blamed himself for it all.

As he moved away from you, throwing his legs off the edge of the bed so he was sitting with his back facing you, it was clear he wanted to be anywhere but there. The bed felt colder and despite being so close to Marc, it felt like there were worlds between you.

Quietly, you got out of bed, the white t-shirt being the only fabric that covered you from the night. Carefully, you sat down on the edge of the bed next to Marc, relief washing over you when he didn’t get up and leave. Instead, Marc sighed deeply and turned to face you, now with tears in his eyes. Tears. As if you all hadn’t gotten sick and tired of those by now. The fact you hadn’t drowned in them yet was a miracle.

“Marc,” You searched for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his for the first time in what felt like a small eternity. “I missed you.”

The words affected him more than you’d ever know. Marc could still not believe you weren’t angry at him. Knowing you wanted to be by his side after everything was simply mind boggling.

“I missed you too, baby,” Marc admitted, finally beginning to speak about what had happened. Perhaps it was the closeness that made him feel like it was time or the fact that keeping everything bottled up was slowly killing him, either way Marc was encouraged to go on. “Fuck, I...I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe you’re still here. I thought I’d lose you.”

“Marc-”

“What happened was never supposed to happen. I should’ve made sure of that long ago!”

“Marc!” You couldn’t let him sit there and keep blaming himself. Eventually the load he was carrying would break him and that would break you too.

He looked at you wide eyed, resembling a lost puppy. Seeing Marc like this was so unusual, he looked at you for guidance and forgiveness although forgiveness was something he never needed to ask for. It wasn’t needed in the first place but even if it were, you knew in your heart you’d forgive him a million times.

“What happened was not your fault,” Each word you said was clear and loud so that he couldn’t possibly mishear you. “The only person to blame for it is now dead and gone. Raul chose to do this. Not you, not me. He is the only one who should feel guilty.”

“You could’ve died,” Marc still didn’t budge, holding your hand a little tighter as he stated that. There was a deep desire within him that made him long to feel you even closer just as a reminder that you were alive.

“But I didn’t. I’m here thanks to you,” There were two sides two every situation. Marc could only see what almost happened and you were there to remind him of what actually happened, something he didn’t seem to consider at all.

“I could walk into traffic and get run over by a car tomorrow. I could get targeted by a random robber in a sketchy alleyway. Bad things happen and we can’t predict that. No one knows how much time we have but I know that no matter what, Raul’s actions weren’t your fault,” You didn’t mean to sound cruel but your words carried truth in them. No one could blame themselves for the unseen actions of the future. No one.

Like magic, something finally seemed to click in Marc’s mind. His shoulders relaxed and you could feel the tension melting from his muscles. When he let go of your hand just so he could envelope you in a hug, you wanted to thank whatever deity or god that must’ve given you this miracle.

Soon you found yourself on Marc’s lap, breathing in the subtle hints of his cologne as you rested your face against his shoulder. Marc held you tightly, but he was aware of your injuries so the man was mindful, not aiming to hurt you. His rough hand - now ever so gentle - was caressing the back of your head as his arm wrapped around you, keeping you close. Then at last, Marc let his tears rain down his face. The lid of the bottle was opened and you had knocked it over, letting it all spill out.

“I love you so much,” You whispered to him, repeating the confession a few times between soft kisses against his warm skin. You comforted Marc to the best of your abilities, playing with the dark curls at the nape of his neck and ever so often wiping away the tears that were running down his throat.

“I love you too,” Marc had to return those words, his heart set aflame from love and passion that he felt for you. It was a fire no one could ever put out.

Marc held onto you for dear life, wanting to feel your heartbeat against his, to feel your chest expanding with air. Your scent calmed him as he let his sorrow out. Although only a few days had passed since you two last spoke, to him it felt like months. Looking back at how scared he had felt made him feel sick. It worsened when he couldn’t shake away the image of you in that fucking room. That was something no amount of words could ever clean from his memory.

But there you were. Not in a creepy room at the mercy of one of the most dangerous people Marc knew of. No. You were in his arms, in your bed and no one else could possibly bother you right now.

To Marc, this was all that mattered.

You were safe.

A/N: Okay so I definitely didn’t intend for this to be this long but here we are. I hope you liked it! :)

#Moon Knight fanfiction #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #jake lockley x you #Jake Lockley x Reader #moon knight #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #angst #hurt/comfort #raul bushman

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discoscoob · 4 years ago

Text

Love’s Labours Won | Loki x Female Reader

Loki (Marvel) x Doctor Who

The TARDIS arrives in The Dark Ages where the Doctor tries to solve a mystery involving witchcraft. During your stay your relationship with Loki begins to develop due to a mix of a Shakespeare, jealousy and one bed.

Part Three | Part Five | Chapter Index

Words: 7.7k

Warnings: unwanted advances, mild homophobia, death: very minor characters, jealous Loki, swearing, angst, fluff and then more angst

Read on AO3

You were sat crossed legged in front of your floor length mirror, applying eyeliner when the whole room began jerking, which caused your hand to slip and left a long black line smudged over or eyelid.

You huffed in annoyance, as you pulled out a makeup wipe and began cleaning up the mistake, you decided that there was no point in attempting to try again as the whole TARDIS continued to quiver.

You climbed to your feet, still wiping your eye, as you stormed out of your bedroom with half your sight blocked by your makeup wipe. You failed to see Loki walking down the corridor at the exact same time and with the help of the turbulence, Loki lost his balance and stumbled into you, sending you both crashing into the wall.

“Good morning.” You greeted Loki, almost sounding out of breath from the shock of your back impacting with the wall. His face was mere inches from yours, as you were trapped against the wall between both his arms, unlike the last time you found yourself in this position with the God, it was purely accidental this time.

From the proximity you realised that today a light citrusy and floral scent surrounded him and from what you could see, he was wearing a solid black suit with a matching shirt and tie. The outfit made him appear even more powerful and intimidating than he usually did and despite the fact you were meant to be trying to push away any desires you had towards the God, your mind was encouraging you to just lean forward those last few inches and close the gaps between your lips.

Before you could follow your own minds advice, Loki awkwardly cleared his throat as he took a step back away from you, while straightening out his suit jacket.

“Good morning.” He repeated.

You both continued your way towards the control room, occasionally bracing yourself against the walls whenever you felt as though you were about to lose balance.

“Did you have to pass a test to fly this thing?” You asked the Doctor, who was literally sprawled across the console, with his foot pushing a leaver, while his arm stretched out to the opposite side to turn a dial.

Donna was clinging onto the rail for dear life, while you and Loki attempted to reach her side without falling flat on your backsides.

“Yes, and I failed.” The Doctor distractedly answered.

“I can tell.” You replied, as the TARDIS jerked to an abrupt stop, you instinctively grabbed onto Loki’s arm to steady yourself and he put his own hand under your elbow to ensure you were stable.

Behind Loki’s shoulder you saw Donna watching you and the God closely, you could tell that she still didn’t trust Loki. Feeling conscious of her stare you mumbled a quick thanks towards Loki before you extended the distance between the two of you, while the Doctor ran to the doors of the TARDIS.

“Beyond this door lies a brave new world.” He announced with his back against the TARDIS doors, enthusiastic as ever.

“I’m up for anything, as long as there aren’t any volcano’s and none of us get possessed.” Donna seemed happily pleased.

“Oh Donna, the chances of that are low but never zero.” The Doctor cheekily smiled, before he turned on his heel causing the tail of his long brown trench coat to fan out behind him as he ran out the door. “Come on!”

When you stepped out of the TARDIS behind Donna, the first thing you noticed was that it was night but still humid, leading you to believe it was summertime and you noticed that you were surrounded by other humans which lead you to the conclusion that you were still on Earth.

The sound of horses hooves clicking against the cobblestone of the lively street, the attire of the people who occupied it and the medieval architecture of the buildings which aligned it all informed you that you had travelled backwards in time.

If you required further more indication, the foul waste which came pouring from the sky, barely missing you before Loki pulled you back, was the final confirmation you needed. You could hardly hold back the gag that threatened to rise at the back of your throat.

“We’ve arrived somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Good to know.” The Doctor commented.

“Listen, I’m all for time travel yeah, but that’s disgusting. I’m gonna nip to the loo on the TARDIS before we explore, I don’t wanna end up shitting in a bucket.” Donna announced before she retreated back inside the blue box, the door squeaked shut behind her.

“I always knew you were a primitive species but that is truly a testament to how far you have come in your short lives, it is positively awe-inspiring.” Loki remarked and you glanced at him with narrowed eyes, as you tried to decipher whether to be offended or take it as a compliment.

“So, this is London?” You eventually asked the Doctor, while you all waited for your auntie outside the TARDIS.

“Think so,” the Doctor let his eyes wander over the street, “round about, ooh... 1599. If I’m right, we’re just down the river, by Southwark, right next to the Globe Theatre, brand new, just opened! Though strictly speaking, it’s not a globe, it’s a tetradecagon, because of its 14 sides.”

“What’s that?” Donna asked, after stepping back outside the TARDIS, having caught just the end of the Doctors sentence.

“I was just saying, the Globe Theatre isn’t technically a globe, it’s a tetradecagon, it has 14 sides.” The Doctor repeated to Donna, who pulled a face.

“You’re always so pedantic,” Donna shook her head. “Why would they ever call it the Tetra-thingy Theatre?”

“Tetradecagon.” The Doctor corrected.

“See, pedantic.” Donna pointed out, and the Doctor looked insulted.

“As I was saying,” the Doctor returned to his original point while he glared at Donna, “the man himself should be there tonight.”

“Shakespeare?” Loki’s interest peaked.

“You know who Shakespeare is?” Your eyebrows lifted with surprise as you turned to Loki.

“Believe it or not, unlike everyone on Earth, we aren’t sheltered on Asgard. What can you tell me of the Nine Realms?” Loki paused to give you a chance to answer, but your lips remained sealed as your eyes bounced around in thought. “That’s what I thought.”

***

The Doctor had lead the way to the Globe Theatre and managed to sneak all four of you inside with the use a wallet, containing a blank piece of paper, which he had explained was called psychic paper. It allowed the person who looked upon it, to see whatever the Doctor presented it as, when he had said it was tickets to the performance you were let in without any bother.

Inside the theatre was filled to the brim, the four of you were cramped near the back of the stalls. The smell wasn’t particularly pleasant, unfortunately deodorant and other essential hygiene products weren’t invented yet but since you were stood by Loki’s side his delicious and fresh scent performed as a buffer over the foul odour and you found yourself almost snuggling into his chest as the play went on.

Once all the cast were bowing at the end of the performance, the crowd began chanting ‘author’ commanding that Shakespeare himself make an appearance on stage.

With his arms raised above his head and a flamboyant skip, William Shakespeare entered the stage and the cheers, whistles and applause grew even louder. He blew kisses toward the crowd, as he confidently walked back and forth across the stage, occasionally he leant down to brush the hands of the audience members below, who desperately reached out their arms in the hopes they might get to touch the renowned poet.

In the flesh, Shakespeare appeared to be a lot more attractive than any of his portraits ever suggested. He had a head full of wavy golden brown locks and a beard to match.

“He’s a bit different to his portraits.” You commented to no one in particular, as you continued to enthusiastically clap along with everyone else.

“Genius. He’s a genius. The genius, the most human human there’s ever been. And now we’re gonna hear him speak! Always, he chooses the best words, new beautiful, brilliant words...” The Doctor excitedly spoke.

“He is one of the finer Midgardian poets. I have read most of his work, he is truly gifted with his language.” Loki added.

“Shut ya big fat mouths!” Shakespeare merrily exclaimed to his audience, who erupted into laughter, while the Doctors and Loki’s faces fell with disappointment and they halted their applause.

“Oh Gods, he sounds just like my brother after one too many.” Loki realised with alarm.

“I know what you’re all saying, Love’s Labours Lost, that’s a funny ending, isn’t it? It just stops!” Shakespeare clicked his fingers to put emphasis on the abrupt ending. “Will the boys get the girls? Well, don’t get your hose in a tangle, you’ll find out soon.”

“When?” The audience eagerly chanted.

“All in good time, you don’t rush a genius.” The poet lowered himself into an elegant bow before he abruptly shot back up again.

“When?” Shakespeare repeated his audiences question. “Tomorrow night!”

The theatre erupted into raucous applause.

“The premier of my brand new play! A sequel, no less! And I call it Love’s Labours Won!” You and Donna continued clapping, oblivious to the suspicious glance the Doctor and Loki shared with one another over your heads.

***

“I can’t say I have ever heard of Love’s Labours Won.” Donna announced, as you were exiting the theatre, still huddled in a large crowd.

“Me neither, is it one of his more obscure works?” You looked over your shoulder to inquire with the Doctor, who easily stood a whole head and shoulders above the crowd surrounding you, as did Loki, who was walking beside you.

“Well, the thing is, it doesn’t exist, only in rumours. It’s mentioned lists of his plays, but never, ever turns up and no one knows why.” The Doctor explained, adding a tone of mystery to his voice as he quirked his expressive eyebrows.

Your interest peaked almost instantly, you noticed Donna’s had too as you both shared an inquisitive look, eager to discover more about this missing play.

“But how did it disappear in the first place?” Donna asked.

“Well... I suppose we could stay a bit longer and find out.” The Doctor suggested, to which you and Donna shared excited smiles.

***

You collectively made the decision to spend the night in one of the inns, to not only get the full experience but the Doctor knew of which one Shakespeare occupied, this allowed him the opportunity to keep a vigilant eye on the poet, in the hopes of discovering what caused the disappearance of Love’s Labours Won.

“Hello! Excuse me, not interrupting, am I?” The Doctor asked as he knocked on the side of the doorway, “Mr Shakespeare, isn’t it?”

You followed into the room behind the Doctor with Loki close behind you and Donna entering last, to find the famous writer lounging at a desk as he drank from a tin cup, with two of the actors from his play sat in front of him.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, who let you in?” Shakespeare pinched the bridge of his nose. “No autographs. You can’t be sketched with me and please don’t ask where I get my ideas. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove...”

Shakespeare finally removed his fingers from the bridge of his nose and raised his hand into a shoo motion, but as he lifted his eyes to look at the Doctor they instead landed on you and his words died on his tongue.

“Hey nonny, nonny,” the playwright addressed you, as he suddenly sat up straight and gestured to the seat beside him. “Sit right down here next to me.”

Your eyes slightly widened at the interest Shakespeare displayed in you, while behind you no one noticed the way Loki had begun looking upon the poet with a shadow cast over his eyes. The innkeeper entered the room and placed her hands on the shoulders of the two actors, who were sat before Shakespeare.

“Come on, lads, I think our William’s found his new muse.” She encouraged them to make themselves scarce, while Shakespeare rose from his seat.

“Sweet lady,” he continued to address you as he beckoned you over to the chair one of the actors previously occupied, you politely smiled at him as you lowered yourself into the chair and he sank back into his own.

The Doctor sat down in the chair beside you and Donna sat on his other side, so he was sandwiched between the two of you, while Loki lingered in the back, where no one could notice the way his gaze menacingly lingered on Shakespeare.

“I’m Sir Doctor of TARDIS and these are my companions,” the Doctor listed off your names, as he held up his wallet containing the psychic paper, which he had used to enter the Globe Theatre with, in front of William.

“Interesting. That bit of paper, it’s blank.” Shakespeare pointed out, it appeared he was immune to the papers psychic powers.

“Oh, that’s... very clever.” The Doctor raised his eyebrows as he let his hand holding the wallet fall limp. “That proves it. Absolute genius.”

“Who are you, exactly?” William rested his elbow on the table and leaned forward as propped his cheek upon his fist, while he returned his attention to you. “More to the point who is your delicious lady?”

Donna raised her eyebrows as she looked between you and the poet. “She’s my niece.” Your auntie stated, capturing the writers attention.

“Your niece is very captivating.” Shakespeare informed your auntie.

“And you’re very married.” Donna countered, clearly disapproving of his flirtatious manner towards you.

Near the back of the room, Loki’s lips lifted in a proud smile as he watched Donna shut down Shakespeare.

“Excuse me! Hold hard a moment!” A large, heavy and bearded man, wearing a pleated collar, black robes and an elaborate gold necklace which rested over his shoulders, invited himself into the room and grabbed everyone’s attention.

“This is absolutely abominable behaviour, a new play, with no warning! I demand to see a script, Mr Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me, before it can be performed!” He lectured the playwright, who stroked his beard in an idle manner.

“Tomorrow morning, first thing, I’ll send it round.” The experienced writer calmly answered.

“I don’t work to your schedule, you work to mine! The script, now!” The man demanded.

“I can’t!” Shakespeare finally raised his voice.

“Then tomorrow’s performance is cancelled. Love’s Labours Won will never be played.” The man concluded, before showing himself out the room.

“I guess that answers our questions about Love’s Labours Won. I thought it was going to be a bit more exciting than that. It usually is with you, Doctor.” Donna sighed disappointedly.

Almost as if on cue, the shrill sound of a woman’s scream was heard from the street outside and you all stood to attention.

“Sounds like I spoke to soon.” Donna remarked, before the Doctor sprung from his chair and dashed out the room with the rest of you following on his tail, including Shakespeare.

Once you were all out on the street, you saw the man who had declared the cancellation of Love’s Labours Won, stumbling around and clutching at his neck as he repeatedly threw up what appeared to be water.

“Leave it to me, I’m a doctor.” The Doctor announced, as he rushed to the man’s aid, although he barely reached him before the man collapsed to the floor with a choked groan of pain, as water continued to pour out his mouth.

The man lay motionless on the straw covered cobblestone street and it appeared to be too late for the Doctor to do anything as he checked his pulse with a grim expression.

The Doctor stood to his feet to address the innkeeper, who had come out to witness the commotion.

“Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural, if unfortunate demise. Call a constable, have him taken away.” The Doctor instructed her, before he crouched back down by the body.

You followed Donna as she joined the Doctors side, you knelt on the opposite side of the body across from Donna and the Doctor and Loki settled beside you.

“What actually happened to him?” Donna whispered to the Doctor, understanding that what he had told the innkeeper was a lie.

“If I’m not mistaken, it looks like witchcraft.” The Doctor suspected, his tone deadly serious.

“Before anyone points their finger at me, I’m not a witch. I’m a sorcerer, there is a difference.” Loki proclaimed his innocence.

“No one is blaming you.” You assured him.

“I’m usually the first suspect when something goes wrong.” Loki explained, with a small laugh to keep it light but you still frowned, imagining how frustrating it must be to constantly be seen as the black sheep.

***

You all solemnly returned to the inn, the unexpected death of the man who had wanted to cancel Love’s Labours Won, had inspired the Doctor to stay in order to get to the bottom of it.

The innkeeper had accommodated the four of you with the last two unoccupied rooms of the inn, however almost looked ready to kick you all out onto the streets when Donna had suggested the Doctor and Loki take one room, while she and you take the other.

“Two men will not lie together under my roof.” She muttered ever so quietly, as if it were far too scandalous to be said out loud.

“The dark ages.” The Doctor sighed, while he dragged his palm down his face. “Miss Noble likes to jest,” he assured the innkeeper, who eyed the four of you suspiciously before reluctantly leaving.

“I broke that rule a long time ago.” Shakespeare spoke through a chuckle.

“Oh, 57 academics just punched the air.” The Doctor muttered to himself, causing you to let out a small snort of laughter.

***

Due to the innkeepers rules surrounding sleeping arrangements, this resulted in the Doctor and Donna sharing one room, while you and Loki shared the other, the rooms were situated on opposite sides of the inn.

You and Loki stared at the double bed, both wondering who was going to be the first to break the silence. Inside your mind you were freaking out, but you didn’t let it show on your exterior, you were meant to be trying to forget these thoughts about Loki which occupied your mind, sharing a bed with him for the night would only make it worse.

The God wordless walked further into the room, the floor loudly creaked beneath each step he took, as did the mattress once he lowered himself onto it in a sitting position, with his back turned to you.

He removed his tie and hung it around the post at the bottom of the bed, followed by his suit jacket and then his shoes, your heartbeat was rising with every item of clothing he removed wondering how much further he would go, but luckily he stopped there rested back onto the bed, with his pillows propped against the headboard.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” Loki casually commented, noticing you hadn’t moved an inch since entering the room.

You swallowed and softly moved towards the bed, noticing the floor boards didn’t creak as loudly beneath your feet and once you sat on your side of the bed, with your back turned to Loki, you copied his previous movements and began removing your shoes.

“Shakespeare seems fond of you.” Loki remarked, as he picked at some loose thread on the blanket beneath him and you paused your actions. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could sense a certain edge to his voice that made you believe that he wasn’t only making casual conversation.

“Those are words I never imagined would be said towards me.” You lightly chuckled, as you resumed your movements, before you slowly shuffled up the bed to lie beside Loki.

“It must feel nice to capture the attention of such a renowned figure of your realm.” Loki continued, and you wished instead that you could’ve captured the God’s attention in the same way.

“I suppose,” you shrugged, despite the fact that you could admit the man was far more attractive in person than he is depicted in any of his portraits, his attempts at flirting with you hadn’t so much made you swoon but rather made you feel awkward.

“He reminds me of my brother, you would like him.” Loki told you. “The same golden hair, the same confidence-”

“He’s not really my type.” You quickly admitted, causing Loki to pause for a moment.

Without looking you could tell Loki had turned on his side towards you, as you felt the uncomfortable mattress shift beneath your back. He had propped his head up on his elbow, while his other arm rested on the dip of his waist.

“What would you describe ‘your type’ as?” Loki curiously inquired.

You. You answered in your mind, while your lips remained sealed as you pretend to be giving it some thought while you focused on nervously fidgeting with your fingers over your stomach.

Eventually you lifted your eyes to Loki, his were already unapologetically focused on you. As you silently watched him from under your lashes, you willed him to read your mind from your stare alone and from the way his eyes darted over your face, you could tell he was trying.

The candlelight which luminated the room, cause his eyelashes to cast shadows over his defined cheeks when his gaze paused on your lips for a moment too long, he drew his own lips inward to moisten them as his eyes slowly rose back to yours.

You leaned towards him, ever so slightly and nervously swallowed as he moved the hand he was using to support his head, to brush some loose strands of hair away from your face. His other arm made the mattress dip beside your waist, as he used it to support his weight as he leaned his upper body over you.

His long hair fell untidily around his face and you hesitantly reached out your own hand to tuck one side of it behind his ear, surprised by how silky it felt against your fingertips. You let your palm cradle his sharp jaw as he slowly lowered his own face towards yours and both your eyelids fell shut as you waited to feel the sensation of the others lips moving against your own, but just as you felt his warm breath fan against your skin, an ear piercing scream caused you to shoot up with alarm and your forehead to smack against Loki’s.

“Fuck!” You both cried in unison as you cradled your throbbing foreheads in your palms. The sound of loud footsteps running past your door from the hallway outside, reminded you of what caused you to startle in the first place and you quickly jumped from your bed, ignoring the way the pain in your head protested against it and rushed after the sound of the footsteps down the stairs.

“She died of fright.” You heard the Doctor conclude, as you turned through the doorway to the study Shakespeare was working in, to find the time lord leaning over the innkeeper’s dead body. Your auntie was stood at the open window, as if searching for something, and Shakespeare looked dazed as he sat at his desk with confusion written all over his face.

“I don’t like how this is turning into the plot of Clue.” You commented, before you jumped when you heard footsteps behind you, only to relax when you saw they belonged to Loki.

“Doctor!” Donna called from the window, and he immediately rushed over to catch what she was looking at but unfortunately it seemed he wasn’t quick enough.

“What did you see?”

“A witch.” Your auntie answered, as if she could hardly believe herself.

***

During the early hours of the morning, the innkeepers body had been removed by a coroner and the Doctor had stayed up until the crack of dawn began to peak through the inn’s windows, trying to figure out how the sudden deaths and the witchcraft all linked to the disappearance of Love’s Labours Won.

You and Loki provided little help, hardly listening to the Doctor as he voiced his thoughts loud. You were both to occupied with distracting one other, as you kept glancing at each other from across the room, the tension between the both of you had been building ever since your chance to share a kiss was stolen away from you.

Looking around the room, you could see everyone was caught up with trying to come up with explanations for what was happening and you realised you could probably slip out the room without anyone noticing or at least not paying it much attention.

Giving Loki a look which made a crease form between his eyebrows you rose from your chair and quietly made your way towards the door leading to the hallway, you paused once more under the arch of the doorway and gave Loki another look, which caused his eyebrows to rise with understanding, before you disappeared into the hallway.

You walked up the stairs and entered the room you and Loki were sharing, hoping he would figure out where to find you, you sat on the bottom of the bed as you waited.

It wasn’t long until you heard footsteps approaching the room, no one could ever hope to move around quietly on the floorboards of the inn. The doorway to your room was lower than the others, which meant when Loki walked through it he had to duck his head. After he gently shut the door behind him, he turned and paused with his back to the door, you were looking at him, from where you sat on the bed, with a wide smile as giggles threatened to rise from your stomach at the secrecy of it all.

“I was meant to follow after you, right?” Loki checked, as he walked further into the room.

You nodded as you rose to your feet and met him halfway.

“I’ve never done this before,” Loki bashfully admitted, as he looked down. “Sneak away with someone in secret, I mean.”

“You never had anyone to sneak away with in that big old palace on Asgard?” You asked, putting little effort into hiding your surprise. “I assume you lived in a palace, I don’t actually know…”

“Yes, I grew up in a palace,” Loki chuckled, “and no, there was no one to sneak away with in it, that was more Thor’s arena.”

“I’ve never done this either,” you confessed, “I had visions of myself waiting here and you not showing up because I didn’t make myself clear enough and then having to return to the room pretending I just took a piss in a bucket.”

Loki’s laughter grew louder and his smile wider, as crinkles appeared at the side of his eyes which lit up his entire face, you decided you would like to see this expression on him more.

You reached your hand up to his face and gently rested your palm against his cheek and in return you felt his large hands engulf your hips as they gently pulled you closer. Your other hand rose to his shoulder and brushed along it until you curled your fingers around the back of his neck to slowly pull his face towards yours.

This time you felt his lips mould against yours without any interruptions, his right hand left your hip to brush up to the small of your back, the back of your shirt slightly rode up with his hand, and he pulled you closer so your chests were flush, while your whole arm snaked around the back of his neck and you felt the tips of his soft hair tickle against your bare forearm.

Blindly Loki guided you towards the bed, never lifting his lips from yours for one second. Once he felt the back of his calves hit the bed frame, he let himself fall onto the mattress, it let out a squeak as did you, and you giggled against his mouth as you made yourself comfortable in his lap with your legs resting on either side of his hips.

His hands moved to hold you firmly around your waist as your palms rested on both his shoulders. Reluctantly, you pulled away from the kiss, and turned your head away to let out a yawn, exhausted from staying up until dawn.

“I’m that boring, huh?” Loki joked, as his hands soothed up and down the sides of your ribs.

“I’m sorry,” you hummed, as you gave him a small peck, “I guess my lack of sleep finally caught up with me.”

“You should rest,” Loki suggested, as he attached his lips to the column of your neck to leave feather light kisses, you let out a throaty groan in response as the tips of your fingers dug into his shoulders.

“Will you stay with me?” You asked with closed eyes, as you tilted your head to the side to give him better access to your neck, you felt his hand climb up your spine, before his fingers buried themselves into your hair as he cradled the back of your head. “I know you don’t need as much sleep as humans do, but will you stay with me while I do?”

Loki lifted his head from your neck to look at you, while his fingers which were buried in your hair, gently massaged over your scalp which sent a calming sensation running straight down your spine, relaxing you even further and making your eyelids heavier.

You couldn’t see it on his face, but Loki was shocked by the fact you trusted him enough to wish to sleep beside him. His lips parted ever so slightly, as he stared up at you through his lashes with wide eyes full of wonder. He didn’t know what to say, so he simply nodded, which caused you to tiredly smile and give him another small kiss as thanks.

As you both moved up the bed, the mattress creaked and squeaked beneath you. Loki rested on his back and you crawled up to him and rested your head on his chest, you could feel it softly rise and fall and you could hear his heartbeat while his calming sent surrounded you, and they all worked together to help lull you off into a peaceful sleep.

Before you drifted off, you felt Loki’s arm curl around your shoulders while the tips of his fingers softly brushed against your arm, causing goosebumps to rise where they travelled.

Loki planted a kiss on the top of your head, before he let his own eyes fall shut, deciding to give sleep a try even though he wasn’t feeling particularly tired.

***

You were abruptly woken up by the sounds of screams and lightening coming from the street outside your room. Due to the fact none of the candles were lit, it was filled with darkness, the only thing luminating the room was an unsettling red glow, which shone through the windows of the inn. You shot up immediately and discovered Loki had fallen asleep, kneeling on the mattress beside him you put your hand on his shoulder and shook him awake.

“What is it?” His voice sounded croaky from his sleep, he soon heard the screams and noticed the sinister red glow of the room, he jumped from the bed and rushed to the window and you followed after him, your jaw dropped and your hand came up to your mouth at what you saw.

From your second story window of the inn, you had a perfect view of the Globe Theatre and right now storm clouds and lightening swirled around it, while luminous crimson smoke rose from the centre. On the streets below groups of people desperately rushed away from the theatre crying and screaming.

“Donna and the Doctor are probably already at the theatre, we have to go!” You rushed back to the bed to pull on your shoes and Loki did the same.

Once you were both ready, you ran out of the inn and into the chaos on the street. Loki took your hand in his as you both began running towards the Globe Theatre, so you wouldn’t get separated by the large crowds running against you.

When you reached the theatre, you saw the stage door was slightly ajar and ran straight towards it, pulling Loki along with you.

As soon as you reached the stage, and saw your auntie, the Doctor and Shakespeare all stood on it, you dropped Loki’s hand. You missed the way the God’s brows formed a crease while he looked down at your hand, as you were too distracted by the terrifying sight before you.

Your hair blew around your face wildly, as in the centre of the theatre there was what only could be described as a hurricane of scarlet mist and lightning bolts and dark horrifying figures flew around inside the swirling phenomenon.

“Donna!” You called, as you rushed to her side.

She called your name when she turned over her shoulder and saw you and pulled you towards her.

“What’s going on?” You yelled above the commotion, Loki stood closely beside you and listened to the conversation.

“They want to end the world, take over and build their new empire.” Donna explained with tears in her eyes, “we’re too late, there’s nothing we can do.”

Your lips fell slack and you looked back towards the swirling flaming red mist with terror, realising it was a portal, to unleash evil upon the world.

You looked up at Loki, his long black hair waved around his face from the gusts caused by the portal, he was staring at it with a thoughtful expression before his eyes locked with yours and he saw the fear in them.

With a determined look, Loki walked towards the edge of the stage, you noticed the luminous emerald mist already starting to form in his palms before he lifted them towards the centre of the theatre. His right foot came backwards, to support his weight, as his magic pushed against him but he leaned his upper body into it.

With one hand he focused his magic on the centre of the theatre, before he moved the other to direct a burst of magic towards the royal box, your eyes followed the green mist and widened when you saw three witches who you hadn’t noticed before. With his magic focusing on the witches who were the source of the power, the portal began to deteriorate and was easily engulfed by Loki’s magic.

The God raised both his arms into the air, and a green surge of light shot into the night sky, taking the portal with it, the force caused the doors behind the stage to fly open and hundreds of loose pages flew into the air and with a resounding boom everything vanished, the only evidence left behind was a faint green mist which slowly began to dissipate. Even the three witches who had been sat in the royal box were gone, the only thing left behind was a crystal ball which sat on the edge of the balcony.

The remaining members of the audience, who hadn’t managed to escape, began to slowly clap until they erupted into enthusiastic cheers and applause.

From the side of the stage, you watched Loki glance around at the audience, as he momentarily appeared to be caught off guard but he quickly regained his composure and lowered himself into an elegant bow with both his arms spread wide and the audience began applauding him even louder.

Shakespeare appeared by your side and took your hand in his, your other hand was already holding Donna’s and he guided you both to the edge of the stage, beside Loki and the three of you bowed in unison, however the entire time your eyes were locked on Loki as he stared at your hand which was held in the poets, and that dangerous shadow cast over his eyes again as his jaw clenched.

***

Loki had avoided you for the rest of the night. When you all returned to the inn, due to the fact most of the guests had fled the town in fright when the portal opened, there were suddenly a lot more rooms going spare. Loki had vanished to one of the rooms without a word, despite the fact everyone was trying to bestow him with gratitude and praise for literally saving the world, he ignored it all.

You had stayed in the common room, with Donna, the Doctor and Shakespeare as they explained everything that had happened. The witches in the royal box had possessed Shakespeare last night as he was writing the end of Love’s Labours Won and wrote a spell into the script, the innkeeper must have witnessed this and died from the fright. They had killed the man who had tried to cancel the play as they needed it to be performed and for the actor to read the spell out loud on stage to open the portal, which would’ve allowed millions of their kind to travel through and invade Earth, the Doctor had called them the Carrionites.

The entire time you couldn’t keep Loki off your mind, the look on his face when he saw your hand in Shakespeare’s, kept appearing behind your eyes, making your heart sink deeper each time. As soon as Donna and the Doctor had finished explaining everything to you, you excused yourself and headed upstairs to the rooms and stopped in front of the door which you had seen Loki disappear behind.

“Loki?” You softly knocked on the door, but there came no response. You tried the handle, but it was firmly locked.

“Can we talk?” You tried again, and you waited, but still nothing.

You rested your forehead against the door in defeat and sighed.

“Goodnight, Loki.” You whispered before you retreated to your room.

***

The next morning the Doctor had decided to return to the theatre to see if he could help Shakespeare salvage any parts of Love’s Labours Won, but it seemed as though all traces of it vanished when Loki destroyed the portal, finally solving your mystery of how it disappeared.

Loki still hadn’t emerged from his room, even when you had knocked on his door to inform him that you were all heading to the theatre and then from there you would be returning to the TARDIS.

You were beginning to feel incredibly worried about him while you sat on a wooden box on the stage of the Globe Theatre as your concerns raced through your mind.

“What troubles you?” You startled, since you had been too distracted by your worries to even notice that Shakespeare had taken a seat beside you on the box.

You contemplated whether or not you should actually tell the poet what was troubling you or if you should dismiss him, you realised that you couldn’t really voice your worries to Donna or the Doctor since neither of them knew about what happened between you and Loki yet. At least with Shakespeare he would be out of your life for good within the hour, so you decided you could share it with him.

“It’s Loki,” you sighed sadly, “he has been avoiding me.”

You suddenly felt the weight of his hand on your lower back, as he pulled you closer and you stiffened.

“If Loki won’t give you his attention. Why not entertain a man who will?” Shakespeare proposed, before he began leaning his face towards yours.

Your eyes widened and you immediately brought your hands to his chest to push him away.

“It seems I arrived at the wrong time.” As soon as you heard Loki’s familiar deep voice, your heart plummeted in your chest.

“Loki,” you looked over your shoulder at him, guilt already filling your eyes, despite the fact you hadn’t actually done anything wrong. You weren’t going to kiss Shakespeare, you had been milliseconds away from pushing him off the box.

You rose to your feet and tried to walk towards Loki but he took a step backwards to maintain the distance and you got the hint.

“Good props store, back there!” The Doctor caught your attention, you turned and saw him and Donna returning to the stage, dressed in various different props and costume pieces.

“Not sure about this, though.” He held up what appeared to be a large animals skull in his left hand, you couldn’t depict what it was, but it looked ghastly. “Reminds me of a Sycorax.”

“Sycorax.” Shakespeare repeated. “Nice word. I’ll have that one off you as well.”

“I should be on 10%.” The Doctor muttered.

“Mobius.” You heard Loki gasp from behind you, and your attention turned to his line of sight, to find a fair haired man, with a moustache and wearing a plain brown suit enter the theatre by one of the stalls entrances, followed by a group of armed officers. You instantly recognised him as the man Loki had been hiding from in Pompeii.

“It’s nice to finally see you again, Loki.” The man spoke, sounding like an old friend, but there was definitely something far more sinister hiding in his tone.

By now the exchange had captured everyone’s attention, as you all glanced between Loki and the new stranger Loki had addressed as Mobius.

“How did you find me?” Loki asked, as he stepped towards the edge of the stage.

“It wasn’t too hard, we’ve been tracking seismic activities of your magic. You lead us right to you.” Mobius smiled, it seemed that composed smile never left his face. From how uneasy Loki appeared, you decided you disliked him already.

“I’d just like to know, who would be idiotic enough to give you, of all people, free rein through all of time and space.” Mobius asked Loki, who had parted his lips to answer but before he could, the Doctor stepped up to the edge of the stage beside him.

“That would be me.” The Doctor announced, still dressed in all the props he had found back stage, including a pleated collar and an oversized beret while he still held the disturbing animal skull, he looked quite the spectacle.

Mobius was speechless for a moment, as his eyes dragged up and down the Doctor’s tall form.

“He’s a time lord.” Loki proudly lifted his head, as one might just before they lay down their cards to reveal a winning hand.

Mobius smile finally dropped, and you couldn’t help the smirk that lifted at the corner of your lips, proud to see Loki have an advantage.

“Impossible. They’re all gone.” Mobius tried to hide any traces of confusion from his face and tone and instead feigned confidence in his statement.

“All except me.” The Doctor explained, and you practically saw the realisation hit Mobius at full force.

“You’re...” The words died on Mobius’ tongue, before his eyes filled with horror.

“I’m beginning to get the feeling that they don’t honour me as much as they do the other time lords.” The Doctor whispered to Loki, who was now frowning.

Mobius commanded something you couldn’t hear to the armed officers around him and they raised their weapons.

“I think that is our cue to run.” The Doctor decided as he slowly began backing away, he threw the animals skull at Shakespeare, who quickly caught it, then took Donna’s hand in his own as he rushed past her and lead her out the stage door with you and Loki following closely behind him.

You followed the trail of the Doctors long brown trench coat, through the busy streets, glad that he seemed to memorise the way to the TARDIS because you had no idea, while you had flashbacks of running for your life through Pompeii, except this time you were running from the exact same thing Loki had been.

Once the familiar blue box caught your eye, your legs began carrying you even quicker as you made your final sprint towards it. The Doctor was already at the door, holding it open, you made it in first and then Loki closely after you.

The Doctor wasted no time and immediately rushed to the controls to get the TARDIS out of there as soon as possible, while you leant over the rail, as you tried to catch your breath. You felt the sharp pain of a stitch in your side and brought the tips of your fingers up to your abdomen and dug them into your skin where you felt the pain, in an attempt to ease it.

Just as the familiar tremors and the sound of the engine wheezing filled the control room, an outside force caused the ship to jerk harshly and sent you crashing to the floor.

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath, as pain shot through your hip from the impact of hitting the hard floor.

Glancing around it seemed everyone else had managed to maintain their balance, the Doctor was still frantically working at the controls, Donna was glancing at you with concern from the other side of the control room and Loki looked lost in thought while he held on tight to the rail.

Eventually the tremors subsided and the TARDIS settled into a tranquil state and the Doctor collapsed into the seats with his feet rested up against the ships console, looking exhausted as he finally pulled the pleated collar from off his neck with a heavy sigh.

“Well… now we’re all on the run from the Time Variance Authority.” The time lord concluded.

#loki (marvel)#loki #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki imagine #doctor who #tenth doctor #10th doctor #donna noble #tom hiddleston

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fandomtookoverlife · 4 years ago

Text

Late

Hotch x reader

Fem!reader

Summary: you go out to brunch with the girls but your late, (as always) and they have a peak at your sex life before you leave.

Note: italics are readers thoughts

Warning: talk of sex, swearing

Words: 1.8k

Category: fluff

A/N: ok this took me way too long to write but that's ok because I like the way it turned out and I hope you do too. Also this totally isn’t based off of the dumb bitch I am and how I act when I’m late. 😂😂

also again with me not being able to come up with a name worth a shit

Interact with me if you like, anything you want,😘😘, not sure what I’ll write next we’ll see. Also not me getting this out instead of doing hw, not me, wrong bitch.

Other blog: @mac99martin

Masterlist

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Shitshitshitshit I’m so fucking late UGH SHIT! You are so late. You’re running around your bedroom trying to get ready. You were going for brunch with the girls; Penelope’s idea, which was fine except that you were getting picked up at 11, you woke up at 10:40. For the last 10 minutes, you have been rushing around your room trying to get ready, preying that the girls would be running late as well. You’re dressed, which is good, you threw on a bit of makeup in an effort to look the least bit presentable and now you were desperately trying to manage the mess that is your hair. You had… fun last night. Aaron had come over and well like you said you had fun. Jack was at a sleepover so Aaron came to your apartment, you stayed up half the night, relishing in the time you’ve missed together in the past week. It came to an end when Aaron received a call saying that he needed to pick up Jack. At that point you decided you should get some sleep seeing as you had to get up in the morning, unfortunately for you, your own personal alarm clock left last night and you forgot to set an alarm, yep, you’re late. You’ve been checking the clock every two minutes, you were probably wasting time checking the time and now you're wasting time thinking about how you're wasting time, UGHH, but you were frazzled and freaking out so you can’t be relied upon for anything right now.

10:53

All you have to do in the next 7 minutes is clean up the rat’s nest that is left of your hair after last night’s activities, find shoes, find your wallet, purse, find wherever the hell you put your phone down and pray that you look presentable.

Unfortunately, there’s one flaw that always manages to escape you, most people don’t show up at the exact minute agreed upon.

It was now 10:56 your hair was mostly put together, 4 minutes ok I can do that. As if you weren’t already having the worst morning, it gets worse. Ya, that phone you can’t find, It has been blowing up with messages for the last few minutes.

“She’s not answering.” JJ had had none been calling you from the parking lot for a couple of minutes with no answer. Em and Pen had been checking in for the last 15 with no answer and continued to send unseen texts to you.

Em finally snapped, “alright, I’m going up.” not giving the other ladies time to respond she opened that car door and got out.

Pen rushed out after her, “Wait I wanna come!”

JJ watched the two women walk toward the entrance to your complex, looking at the empty car around her, got up as well, “ok I’m coming too.”

Emily, completely giving up on you, took out her keys and opened your door, JJ, ever the reasonable one, had protested, saying that they should knock. She got a nasty glare as Em pushed your door open.

As you said before, Aaron left in a rush last night, and you had been running around your room all morning, actually, you haven’t left your room all morning, making you completely unaware of the state of your apartment.

The women stood in your doorway in shock. You and Aaron didn’t just have fun in the bedroom last night, you had fun everywhere, the kitchen, the floor, the table, your desk, the couch, you name it you were there. In conclusion? Your apartment was a mess, for starters there were clothes everywhere, your shirt, Aaron’s jacket, your bra, Aaron’s tie, your pants and last but definitely not least your-ripped-panties right in the open directly in the eye line of the women at the door. And you were completely unaware.

The stunned women stepped in closing the door behind them, the world did not need to see this. They took in the sight, the clothing, the underwear that pen had pointed out, making sure to specify their ripped state. The next thing they noticed was your desk, what was usually a very precise desk was, quite the spectacle. Papers and folders scattered, pencil cups on their sides, pens just everywhere, photos knocked over. The tables and couch were pushed out slightly into the middle of the room, it was very clear what had happened here last night. The ladies looked at each other, their faces blank unsure how to react. A part of them was horrified, the other part really wanted to laugh. That was until they heard a noise coming from behind your door. They all became alarmed, “wait you don’t think Hotch is still in there do you?!” with your normal, horrible timing, that’s when you decided to open your door

Everyone looked stunned. You tried to start asking how they got into your apartment but you were by a frantic Emily, “Is hotch still here?”

“What? No, how did u…” the women looked relieved at your answer, when you started to ask how they knew he was here last night they gestured around the room. And that’s when you remembered the state in which you and Aaron left your apartment last night, “ohhh shit”

Emily started “Ya oh shit, look at this place”

“You guys had fun last night” JJ, always so passive-aggressive. When Pen went to pick up your panties, you sprang into action.

“Alright I’ll be out in a minute you guy can wait in the car” you practically slammed the door behind them, you look back at the mess that in your apartment, “shit”

You get your shit and get out of your apartment as fast as you can, JJ, Pen and Em are in the car waiting as ordered to but when you get in they are all smiling, “soooo, if you guys could just forget what you saw in there…”

“Absolutely not! That image will be engraved in my mind for the rest of my life!”

“JJ, come on”

“Don’t give me that did you see that place, good god Y/N what did you do in there!”

“Ummm…”

Before you could even think of an answer Pen jumped in with, “did you see all her clothes on the ground?”

“Did you see Hotch’s clothes still on the ground?”

“Did you see her desk?!”

“Alright, that’s enough” doing your best to put your foot down while also hiding how absolutely mortified you are.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

“No wonder she was late.”

Despite your protests, it went on and on,

“Do you think she has hickey?”

“Hmm, not that I can see” at this point they weren’t listening to you anyway, so you just sat there, trying very hard not to listen, at some point you had started to think about last night. It was so perfect, not only the incredible sex but just being with him, allowing your selves to let loose, show each other affection, which you don’t do around the team. And then there was the literal mind-blowing sex, his hand all over you, his mouth across your body leaving the hickeys that you actually had but skillfully covered. The many orgasms you had that your legs hurt now, your slightly sore throat…

“Do you think that HE has hickeys?”

“Should we find out?”

That was it “NO”

“Well that woke her up, you were kind of out of it there for a second.”

“Ya something up,? Maybe something on your mind, thinking about something, dreaming about it, imagining it, reliving it?” Emily was nudging your shoulder and your face was turning bright red, “oh my god she was!”

Once you had actually started eating they let the conversation move on. It was one of the best times you’ve had in a while, you laughed and joked, you really don’t remember the last time you all smiled so much. It was nice to be with them so relaxed and happy, you almost forgot what it was like.

When your phone rang you knew their fun from earlier wasn’t over, they all turn to you, smirks growing on their faces, “hey”

“hey Y/N, I’m sorry about last night,”

“Don’t worry about it, really”

“Jack doing fine now but- it was messy” he said with a tired chuckle

“No no, I get it.”

“Hey hotch” Emily had pulled you phone slightly away from your ear and spoke into it “quite a number you did on her apartment last night” you snatched your arm back from her and shot her a glare

“You're still at lunch…”

“Yes. I am.” with a laugh that was more of a sigh,

“Sorry I totally forgot, Jack just wanted to talk to you, but he can wait-”

“No no, I want to talk to him,” you blushed and everyone smiled, you said you were stepping outside and would be back, they didn’t catch much of your conversation as you walked away, but what they did catch, was way too fucking sweet.

“Wow, they are just-”

“She looks so happy” watching you talk through the window

“Her? Have you seen him?” they thought about the changes in the two of you recently, you both were smiling so much more, you seemed so energetic, he seemed softer. Both so much more selves, a weight coming off both your shoulders, you brought the light out in each other and just being in the same room as you lift the spirits of the team. Watching their fierce leader's stoic exterior melt away and your calm and loving nature amplified out of proportion.

You came back to the table still smiling while they all looked at you, “don’t start-”

JJ cut you off, grabbed your hand and looked in your eyes, “hey,” squeezing your hand, “we are so happy that you're happy.” you blushed and smiled at JJ’s soft, kind words, her motherly exterior and your friends smiling faces showing the sentiment.

After a lovely lunch, filled with smiles, laughter and best friends you pulled up to your apartment JJ had a grin on her face, “so, you want help cleaning up?” the ladies trying very hard not to start laughing.

You clear your throat composing yourself and your face heats up, again, “um no I’m good thanks” getting out of the car as fast as you could.

“Are you sure?” they call after you.

“I’m sure!” running to your door while the ladies kill themselves in the car.

They may be annoying but who would you be to complain about your life right now, how could you, you have everything you could ever want.

---

Tags:

@spencers-renaissance @averyhotchner

(lmk if you want to be tagged)

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atmostories · 4 years ago

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Your Yandere!Terry Silver ficlet was positively amazing and just so very detailed, nuanced and in-character that I absolutely must request more if you're willing to write more. Really, whatever comes to your mind, doesn't even matter, so long as you grace us with more material (greedy grubby hands) - Reading about this dark, evil man just being so sweet for someone melts my heart. 🖤

A gift to my dearest anon, @kingkarate and @villains-are-sexy ♡ ♡ ♡ The first time he noticed you was after Margaret had laid out your employee file in front of him. You'd been working in the logistics department for two years, your record was clean, all of your performance evaluations were very good, if not exemplary. Margaret had personally recommended you so really that was all the evidence he needed that you had at least some value. Her team needed an extra member due to an increased workload and a reorganisation of staff. Margaret was going to retire in a few years and needed to find a replacement before she left.

Terry tried not to think about her being replaced, it irked him greatly to be losing such an asset, and a good friend. There was still plenty of time, for now. You were moved into Margaret's team on a trial basis in order to assess your suitability. Whenever Terry would look across the office, you were always working. You seemed to speak to other coworkers only when necessary. At first he assumed you were being studious and trying to make a good impression for Margaret, but he soon realised that that was simply how you were, quiet, withdrawn. You also treated people the same, no matter who they were or what sort of social rank they held, you would give the same polite smile to him as you would to one of the office cleaners. It was odd. He expected you, like most other rational people, to show him greater respect, he did own the entire company after all. A few words from him and he could render you jobless and homeless, begging for scraps out on the streets. And yet you seemed so unphased by the power he yielded. He got into the habit of calling you into his office for updates on the various projects you were working on. Margaret would always keep him informed of the latest developments, but he liked to hear how you would describe them. He also liked hearing you call him Sir. He'd corrected you when he first met you in person. "Thank you, Mr. Silver," you had said. "No. . .thank you, Sir," he murmured softly, hoping to provoke some reaction. "Of course. Thank you, Sir" you replied plainly. No one else called him Sir. He wondered how long it would take for you to notice that. During your lunch breaks, rather than head off with other coworkers or go to the staff room, you would leave by yourself to take a walk when the weather was decent or you'd eat at your desk. Before you were offered a position at DynaTox Industries, a background check had been carried on you to ensure that you would be. . .malleable if certain circumstances arose. If you found out something you shouldn't, you would be in a weak position, easily blackmailed. Terry requested a more in depth background check and was rather pleased when one of his private investigators handed him a sizeable file containing all of the facets of your life, along with a fortnight's worth of photos while you were under surveillance. It outlined where you went aside from work and as anticipated, it was all very dull. Your financial situation was practically destitution in Terry's eyes. What was most intriguing about your file was your ex who was currently in prison for assault and battery. You were the unlucky victim. As he read the police report and saw the pictures of your injuries, he ignored the swell of anger in his gut. The transcripts of your interviews detailed the abuse you had endured. Was this why you were so withdrawn? So focused on your work rather the people around you? While you were at the office, he broke into your apartment for further investigation. It was comically small. Your possessions were, he supposed, modest for someone so economically challenged as you. Your taste in music was not as sophisticated as his own, hardly surprising. There wasn't much food in the refrigerator or in the kitchen cupboards. He pulled out his wallet and grabbed a hundred dollar bill. Perhaps you didn't see these very often. After scrunching up the bill, he threw it haphazardly onto the floor, wondering whether there would be a smile on your face when you found it. What was he thinking, of course you'd be happy. He made a note to bump your salary enough so that you could move somewhere else, somewhere safer, somewhere which didn't automatically make him want to shower and scrub himself clean. Rather than have Margaret give you the good news, you were called into his office. Terry explained that you'd be permanently assigned to Margaret's team due to your performance. He mentioned a report you did the week prior, highlighting that it was good work. Rather than thank him, you responded by saying that the conclusion needed to be improved and you weren't sure about certain aspects of the analysis. “I said it was good work,” he told you with blunt finality, giving you a harsh stare. Your lips parted open slowly, your eyes were wide, your expression almost one of disbelief. Was it so difficult for you to accept a compliment? To accept praise when it was given to you? “Did I not?” He asked, prompting you to speak. “Uhh, yes. I'm sorry, Sir,” you mumbled back, shoulders hunching even further. Something seemed to twinge in his chest and he wasn't exactly sure what it was. Was it pity? No, it wasn't that, it was almost disappointment, like seeing wasted potential. He invited you along to an executive meeting, his excuse to include you was to take minutes, but really he wanted your opinion on the people who were present, their behaviour, their opinions. Terry wanted to assess how observant you were of other people, and he also wanted to test how candid you would be with him. The meeting went on as usual, dull, insipid. At least your presence offered a little distraction. After it was finally over, he invited you to join him for lunch at one of his favourite restaurants. He could see you eyeing the place curiously, taking in its lush décor and finely dressed staff. The purpose was to put you on edge, to make you feel abysmally underdressed and out of sorts. He had the whole corner of the restaurant cleared for just the two of you, he wanted to examine your every reaction without any disturbance. With drinks and appetisers ordered, he began his questioning. “Do you think Mr. Elroth would be suitable for the New York merger?” He asked, sipping some champagne. “I don't think he likes you,” you responded without hesitation. He pulled the glass away from his mouth, rather taken back by your honesty. “Why do you say that?” “He didn't like listening to you. He kept looking away, he even rolled his eyes a few times.” “And why do you think that is?” “Well. . .maybe it's because you're too young and you're too willing to take risks. He seems very traditional and set in his ways.” “Hmm.” Terry drank the rest of the glass, motioning to a waiter for a refill. He continued to ask questions throughout the main course and dessert. Your answers were always honest, you didn't try to soften any of your responses for him. He liked that. You reminded him of Margaret. Unblemished opinions were hard to come by for someone like Terry. They were always marred by people wanting to impress him, people trying to make the best impression possible, people looking for favours. He was beyond the grasp of normal society and yet you sat in front him, eating several courses which cost most, if not all, of your monthly salary, totally unphased and giving your opinions freely. He'd never once thought it possible for Margaret to be replaced by someone of her calibre, but perhaps he'd been too quick to make that assumption. When you moved into a new apartment, he had a forged deposit and contents insurance rebate drawn up and sent to you. The next day you had actually gone out and bought lunch rather than bring your own. He'd followed you to the little cafe and he noticed a small, satisfied smile on your face as you tucked into the food. How curious that something so insignificant would give you such joy? Was it really so difficult for you to get by? He bumped your salary again, you were supposed to be happy, but instead Margaret had told him that you went straight to the finance team to query it as a mistake. He scoffed out a laugh, incredulous at your behaviour. Was it so hard to accept when something good happened to you? He had you brought into his office, explaining to you clearly that any future queries regarding your salary would be directed to him personally. “But it's almost triple my original salary, I'm not sure that. . .” you trailed off when he stared down at you. He watched your throat as you swallowed nervously at his proximity. Raising an eyebrow at you, he waited for the proper response. “Thank you, Sir.” He didn't bother to stop himself from smiling. A few seconds later, a shy smile pulled up your lips. Financial security might have offered you some peace of mind, but Terry knew there was more work to be done. He looked over the police reports again, thinking about disposing that piece of trash who had hurt you. Surely that would make you happy? No longer living in the same world with the person who had almost beaten you to death? He had Dennis make some enquiries, found a trustworthy guy who was in the same prison as your ex. After that it was simply a matter of payment for services rendered. He had requested a slow, painful death and the photos from the autopsy showed just that. The unfortunate incident happened over the weekend, ensuring that you would have found out by Monday morning. Instead of happiness on your face, you seemed sad, lost even. He called you into his office, trying to hold back the rage growing in his gut. He had gotten rid of someone who had inflicted so much suffering on you, why weren't you happy? Why weren't you pleased? Surely you couldn't still care for that bastard? Did you really love so carelessly, so irrevocably? “You're distracted,” he stated. Your eyes were focused on the floor, you were making an effort to stop your leg from shaking. “I'm sorry, Sir. I received some. . .news yesterday.” “Bad news?” “I'm not really sure.” “Tell me what happened.” You looked up at him, your eyes were filled with hurt. This wasn't meant to happen, why the fuck were you upset? “Someone I knew. . . passed away. But he wasn't. . .he wasn't a good person.” “And you're grieving him?” “No,” you replied softly. “I should but. . .is it wrong to feel glad when someone's died?” “Not when they're bad.” You nodded a few moments later, a small grin finally lightening your expression. Terry had to repress a laugh. The only thing you were upset about was that you didn't feel upset, you didn't feel bad at all. The thought made him preen in delight, he'd done right by you after all. It took a while, but you were finally starting to lose that heavy burden you'd been carrying all this time. The change in you was not particularly obvious, you didn't start to suddenly make friends with everyone in the office. Your smile was a little wider, you walked with more confidence. In one of his meetings, as you sat right next to him, he whispered an amusing observation about one of the investors into your ear, and you snorted out a laugh, barely able to contain yourself. A week after that, something unexpected happened, something he still didn't quite know how to feel about. Mr. Elroth stood in front of Terry, blabbering on about nothing of interest. He'd gestured for you to come over to give him a point of interest. You stood dutifully by his side, but when Mr. Elroth reached out his grubby hand, about to touch Terry's forearm, you quickly stepped in front of him, blocking Mr. Elroth from touching him. You interjected yourself into the conversation, successfully distracting Mr. Elroth and causing him to lower his arm. Terry dismissed him a couple minutes later and pulled you to one side. “What was that?” “I thought you might have wanted a distraction, I didn't mean to be rude, Sir.” “Why did you move in front of me?” “Mr. Elroth was going to touch your arm,” you explained like it was obvious. “And?” “You. . .you don't like to be touched.” “Excuse me?” “You always initiate, you don't like it when other people touch you. I'm sorry if I've made the wrong assumption. It wasn't my intention to cause any offence, Sir.” He continued to stare at you, letting the words sink in. Margaret most conveniently called you away like she could read his mind and Terry nodded at her in thanks, thinking that he'd have to review her retirement plan, add in a couple more vacation options, maybe an extra masseuse for the weekends. He didn't know how he felt. He was agitated by what you had said, almost uncomfortable. That wasn't something you were meant to notice. Terry took great lengths to not show any kind of weakness, and shying from physical contact was certainly one. For you to not only see it, but then to try and protect him? Even though you’d been abused in the past? Even though you shied away from physical contact yourself? He clenched his fists, his heart aching in a way it never had before. That night, he broke into your apartment. It was thankfully a significant improvement to the last one. After looking over the kitchen and the living room, he went to your bedroom, watching you sleep soundly and peacefully. Part of him wanted to sink his hands around your neck, make you experience every bit of discomfort that you had made him feel. He slowly sat down on the mattress, his gloved hand gently caressing your cheek. You cared about him, but how much of that was the same sort of empathy and respect you'd show to everyone else? How much of it was just for him? He needed all of it, your heart, your mind, your soul. He'd been so used to taking everything he ever wanted, there'd never been anything worth his patience. . .but you? Watching you emerge from the shadow you used to be gave him a deep satisfaction that nothing else came close to. Destroying you would be too easy, you were already so broken, even now. Making you whole again? Now that was a challenge he'd accept, a challenge that he was going to excel at. No one else was going to hurt you again. He recognised the value of your devotion, craved it like nothing else. His fingers traced over your lips as he imagined the moment you were going to kiss him of your own accord. What a sweet, precious moment that was going to be, he would wait for it. He was going to wait for you. And when you were his, he was never going to let you go.

#terry silver #terry silver x reader #cobra kai #karate kid III #thomas ian griffith #atmo

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dreamii-yume · 4 years ago

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I feel Yandere ace should get some attention so how about ace not knowing how to express his feeling to his darling bullies for their attention eventually the darling has enough and starts avoiding him

I agree! Ace is one of my favorite characters and writing him as a Yandere is very fun! Furthermore, he sounds like an interesting friend to have honestly. (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀) You know, the one friend that gets you into stupid, troublesome shit but at least it was fun, am I right?

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

It’s not his fault, you know? If ever, he should be blaming Darling! He thought that the two of them could get along as friends, but she ruined everything...

Darling just have to make him feel like this and act like she did nothing wrong.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

“You look like a chipmunk with all those food in your mouth.” Ace said, raising his eyebrows in amusement before pulling on your round cheeks with a smirk. You squeaked, whining at the pain of getting your flesh stretched out but the guy just laughed at you. “Eat properly, dork.”

He let go of your reddening cheeks and you just glared at him out of spite. Your mouth wasn’t even that full but still, you huffed as you chewed your lunch a lot more thoroughly. Ace just stared at you with the same smirk that never left his face. He pursed his lips together, trying to keep his hand from twitching. The lingering feeling of your soft skin was still faint on his hand, he wanted to feel more but decided against it for your own sake.

Ace himself didn’t know exactly when he started feeling this way about you.

Last time he checked, you weren’t all that special, weren’t worth taking a double look at. Sure, you were from a world that no one knows about and can’t use magic, but that’s basically the only thing different about you and nothing more. Honestly, it was all boring stuff that doesn’t interest him at all. But first impressions really change the more you spent time with that person, Ace seemed to have found this out the hard way.

“Ow!” You gasped softly to not attract attention from anyone in your current class and quietly glanced behind you, rubbing on the slightly burning part of your scalp. Ace had pulled on a segment of your hair hard and even had the audacity to sneer at you with a mischievous look on his face. “W-What was that for!?”

“Nothing, really. Just wanted to mess with you~” He said in a low voice to not get caught by the current teacher in front. You glared at him with puffed up cheeks as you turned your head back to the board in front. This just caused Ace to snicker, almost choking himself on how much he’s trying to hold his laughter in. “You should be thankful, dummy. I can see you nodding off from here, I bet you were making such an ugly yawning face just earlier. So, Because I’m nice, I just have to wake you up before the teacher notice those yawns.”

Ace heard you muttering something under your breath that he couldn’t quite hear, but he’s pretty sure that you were cursing him. He doesn’t mind though, you tried your best to not fall asleep in the majority of the class because of it anyway. Ace kept his focus at you though, wishing how much he wanted to be seated beside you instead of being stuck staring at your back this whole time. His mind drifted off to your sleepy-looking face, imagining how adorable it must’ve been.

He himself began to doze off and of course, they were all thoughts revolving around you. Your voice calling out his name, the way you pout when things don’t get your way, the way your eyes would lit up like a kid receiving a gift during Christmas. Ace began to see those little traits in a different way as time goes by. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening to him, he wasn’t naive enough to believe that it’s just something you feel whilst growing up. It’s far more than that, more intense, more serious, something that makes his heart beat irregularly whenever you’re near.

Ace was in love with you.

...Saying it like that sounded too cheesy and uncool for Ace’s taste, but it was true. It started out as a little crush that he hid so well but unfortunately grew bigger and bigger without him even realizing so. He heard how love was supposed to feel good, life-changing even, but all this time, Ace was feeling nothing but annoyance. It felt like a burden in his heart that just won’t leave him alone at whatever he does. But no matter how troublesome it gets, he could not build up the courage to just go and confess to you.

It took a long time to become this close to you after all, he didn’t want to ruin the bond you both worked hard on. Friendship wasn’t enough for Ace, but it was literally the only thing that holds the two of you together right now. He can’t risk the possibility of you getting weirded out and avoiding him, he doesn’t have enough will power to stand that. Ace wouldn’t admit it in real life but for the first time in a while, he does not feel too confident in carrying out something so risky.

“Thank you, Ace!” You exclaimed happily as you wiped away tears that almost fell from your eyes. You hugged the notebook that you thought you lost tight, giving Ace a big, grateful smile. “You’re a real-life saver!”

The side of his lips twitched slightly, but he made sure to never let you notice those subtle movements. Instead, he went with it, chuckling as he ruffled your hair. “Yeah, yeah...” He said but gave you another one of his cruel smirk. Suddenly, all the relief you felt just faded away, just to be replaced with dread. You paled as a bad feeling began piling up on your stomach, you gulped. “I’m in charge of taking care of the flamingos in Heartslabyul tomorrow. I expect you to be there too, okay~?”

Of course, Ace just returned something so important to you, it’s just expected that he would want something in return. “Also, the limited-edition sandwich in the cafeteria looks pretty good, don’t you think? Won’t you get that for me too?” Ace said, giving you a toothy grin while your eye twitched, unable to have a say in his demands. “What~? I’m the type of guy who doesn’t do anything unless there’s a reward in the end, you know?”

Once again, you puffed up your cheeks, irritation building up inside but sighed anyway and hesitantly agreed to his terms and conditions, despite the fact that you knew it was going to strain both your time and wallet. Ace’s eyes remained mischievous however, as you eventually just brushed him off and excused yourself to go to your next class before headed out with a wave. Ace stared at your retreating figure, waiting for the moment where he was sure you were gone. When that moment arrived though, the first thing he did was to let out a sigh.

You were too easy, thanks to that whole ordeal, he’s sure as hell going to be looking forward to do the flamingo duty now that he roped you in there to help him. Not to mention the deluxe lunch that you’ll be getting for him later too. But still, you really have to be careful not to get caught up in situations like this with other people, you’re lucky that he only asks for minor things. Seriously, you were too careless...

...To not even notice that it was him who stole that precious notebook of yours to begin with.

The panic was enough to nearly bring you to tears but whatever. At the end of the day, all Ace really wanted to do was to hoard your attention all to himself, resulting in these pathetic attempts.

That’s right, Ace doesn’t intend to hurt you at all. He just wanted to mess with you until his image would be the one floating in your mind all day, every day. Just like you would always be in his, it’s just fair, don’t you think so too?

It’s scummy, but what else was he supposed to do? Gaining your affection in a fair manner just feels like he’s ready for a rejection to come by, like he’s bound to get rejected. God only knows if Ace’s heart could accept such a half-ass conclusion like that. If he’ll have to use deceit, lies, and cruelty to capture your heart, then so be it.

It’s all for the sake of love, isn’t it?

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

...At least, it was all supposed to be for the sake of love.

“You’re always yapping about wanting to go home and all that stuff, but don’t you think you’re being a little too selfish here?” Ace said one day when you made the mistake of shifting the conversation about your world. “Everyone in here accepted you already, you know? Even if you can’t go home, I’m sure there’s someone out here willing to take you in!”

“The dorm leaders are so fond of you now, the headmaster is kind so I’m sure he wouldn’t throw you out, and hell, I’ll probably be cursed for life if I don’t make even the slightest bit of effort on making you feel at home!” Ace complained, keeping his eyes close as he ignored the abnormal beating of his heart. He wondered if you noticed how the last part of his dialogue obviously points a clue to how he truly felt towards you. “...And even with all of those possibilities, you still want to go home? Come on, aren’t you being a little ungrateful here, Princess?”

Ace was genuinely upset, but for reasons you weren’t aware of nor reasons you even thought of. It was a disappointment that you didn’t notice just how much he meant what he said, that he’ll do anything to make you feel at home in his world. That he’ll be the one to take you when no one else would. You weren’t being selfish just by wanting to go home, Ace was just the one who’s most terrified of the thought of you leaving. But of course, ruthless words were the only way he could do to prevent you for doing just that.

“Besides, you’re not even sure if people in your world wants you back in the first place.” It felt like an arrow had pierced your heart just by seeing your expression but that’s what Ace wanted you to feel. He wanted his words to hit too close to home for you while he laughs without a single care in the world. “I mean, a clumsy, stupid girl like you? I can’t imagine anyone waiting for someone like that! Must’ve been a relief for everyone in your world to finally realize that you were gone!”

Things would’ve been fine as it is with Ace constantly catching you off-guard with his petty little tricks. It was just what most friends do, be mean and brutally honest with each other just for the laughs and then, make up soon after. It would’ve been fun, it would’ve been hilarious, but all things had their own limits. And When someone crosses that line without respecting its boundary, that’s when things would transcend for the worst.

The way your eyes looked like they were about to tear up, Ace had to ignore that. He wouldn’t let you escape either, he needed to drill that fact into your head. That feeling that no one else but him would want and accept someone like you. He needed to make you feel worthless, just so he could be the knight to sweep you off your feet.

Unbeknownst to him though, Ace didn’t realize that it was that particular moment where he had cross that forbidden boundary. He slowly lost the general idea of control now that he discovered another, much brutal side he could go. All he cared about now is how much your attention was on him, that you wouldn’t even dare think of anyone else.

Teasing comments became downright insulting, jokes became too real, and physical impacts became way too abusive.

You wouldn’t be able to defend yourself when a hot bowl of soup would ‘accidentally’ fall in your lap. You would never be prepared when you would get pushed down the stairs and strain something. You wouldn’t be able to blame anyone if your notes would disappear and come back to you with aggressive scribbles all over the words. So naturally, you wouldn’t be able to move once his hands had wrapped themselves around your neck, threatening to injure you one way or another if you dare do anything.

...And throughout of it all, Ace would be smirking, laughing at your misery. You could see it in his eyes on how much he was enjoying himself, he was enjoying the feeling of being able to trample on you like this. Even if he believes that he wasn’t.

It had driven you into a corner, his actions had quickly shifted into something far worse than teasing. The glint of satisfaction in his eyes whenever you would end up tearing up like it was the highlight of his day. Your increasing number of bruises had been getting a lot of questions lately. It’s not easy to answer them honestly without Ace’s piercing eyes in the background, he just seems to follow you everywhere. Eventually, you finally decided to put your foot down, it wasn’t funny anymore.

But although you’ve had enough, it’s not like you could just fight back against him. No, Ace was far more tricky and cunning as you, trying before had already resulted into a scar that never truly disappeared. So, you did what you could only do the best.

Stay away from his line of sight and hope for the best; Survive.

You started avoiding him, ignoring his gestures during class and not answering his messages or calls. You didn’t let him have an alone time with you anymore, running away towards where people would gather so he couldn’t act. You wouldn't allow him anywhere close to your dorm without another soul accompanying him, hiding until you could no longer hear his voice. Ace was one of the first few friends that you’ve gained after coming into this world, possibly the first. But as important as he is, you felt as if he needed some time to recollect his thoughts, to realize what he was doing wrong.

You had no clue on why he's suddenly like this, he was troublesome before but he was still an overall good friend. You just want him to go back to the way he used to be and this was the only possible way you could think of. If his abusive treatment of you continues, you were afraid that you might just end up seeing him as a villain, a relentless bully and not the Ace that you spent time with.

...This was supposed to be for his own good, yet why does it still feel like you had just pressed the wrong buttons?

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Continue the Spice~?

Something different about this Dream Sinfic, huh? Well, that’s because Yume’s using a laptop to post! ＼(￣▽￣)／I personally feel like this style feel more organized and neat but what do you think, sweetheart?

Anyway, Yume has started her online class now as expected, it sucks and I’m sad to say that you may expect slow updates from now on, Darling~ o(TヘTo) But I’ll still write, don’t worry~ (´,,•ω•,,)♡ Nothing can keep me apart from making the hornii dreams come true

#ace trappola #yandere ace trappola #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere #sinfic #spicy dream #heartslabyul

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that-rock-chick · 4 years ago

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Love Bites

Love sucks. That's pretty much common knowledge. Combine that with addiction, money, fame, and childhood trauma and you've got a recipe for disaster.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Same shit, different fucking day.

Don't ask me how I'm balancing six days a week at my job and band practice three to four days a week, because I truly have no fucking idea. I tried college but once the band formed, I cut that out of my schedule completely.

It's been about a months since the argument with Gwen and Tiffany went down and our band hasn't practiced. I tried to be sympathetic for the longest time, but it's beyond ridiculous now. Veronica, Tiffany, and I have been wanting to do band stuff but Gwen refuses because she's mad that Tiffany is dating a man SHE broke up with. It's not like Tiffany did it intentionally, and the fact that she's letting her own personal stuff interfere with our band is really pissing me off.

We've all got shit going on, but Gwen loves being a drama queen. Veronica has suggested kicking her out of the band a few times and Tiffany has echoed the same sentiment, but I don't think my patience has thinned to that extent just yet.

But it's getting there.

Young musicans aren't hard to come by, but finding someone who fits the band's sound as perfectly as Gwen's adds on a large layer of difficulty that I'm not prepared for. We'd have to start all over, teach our new singer the songs, establish chemistry...it seems exhausting and more trouble than it's worth, at least for the time being.

"Hey Julie." Dylan greeted me as I walked past, something he does whenever we work together. Sometimes it ends up being the best part of my day.

As the day progresses, I find myself smiling a lot more than I usually do. Customers are easier to deal with and a large amount of them were actually friendly. It created a light-hearted atmosphere in the restaurant that we don't get too often, unfortunately. The time seemed to fly by.

"Good luck Dylan." I said goodbye and walked out of the front door. Dylan was always there a hour before I arrived, and an hour before I left. The rest of the staff is pretty cool, but Dylan is the only one I'd consider to be a friend of mine. He's essentially the less musically inclined male version of me.

I head to our rehearsal space for the second time this week. I've extended the invitation to Gwen, as if she needs an invitation to show up to her own fucking band's rehearsal. If she doesn't show up tonight, she's out. Our time is just as important as hers and we're all tired of it being wasted.

I'm usually the first person to show up, but some days that isn't the case, like today.

"Hey." Gwen says shyly.

I give her a blank stare and proceeded to put my things down on a table nearby.

"Nice of you to finally decided to show up." I stated plainly.

"Look, I know I've missed a lot of practice and I totally understand the three of you being pissed at me, but can you please take one second to see this from my perspective?"

I couldn't help but scoff at what was coming out of Gwen's mouth. Has she seriously taken an objective look at the situation and came to the conclusion that she has a leg to stand on.

"Okay fine. You broke up with a guy, he moved onto Tiffany, you were so jealous that he wasn't falling you around like a lost puppy, and you took it out on Tiffany."

Gwen rolled her eyes but before she could speak, Tiffany and Veronica entered the room. Anger was written all over Tiffany's face, while Veronica seemed to be as cool as a cucumber.

That's one thing I've always liked about Veronica. She can keep her cool in some pretty tough situations. That's not all there is to like about her, though. She's utterly gorgeous. Her dark skin and hair that was almost always styled in an afro were truly beautiful features that I couldn't help but admire. She's beautiful, smart, talented, and has an amazing personality. She's the full package.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Tiffany wasted no time begining the screaming match we all knew was about to go down.

"We're in the same band." Gwen managed to maintain her regular tone of voice, but if I know Tiff like I think I do, and trust me, I do, she'll keep going until she sets Gwen off and then everything will go up in flames.

"Clearly the band hasn't been very high on your list of priorities for the past four weeks. Finally make time in your schedule for us, princess?" Tiffany was speaking with her genuine emotions, but part of her wanted to get a reaction out of Gwen. She knows how Gwen feels about being called "princess".

Gwen looks like she wants to say something to Tiffany that would no doubt escalate the situation even further, but she takes a deep breath and regains her composure.

"I'm sorry, okay? For everything. Julie was right, I should've maintained my professionalism above all else...and I shouldn't have put some guy over you and our friendship."

The three of us looked at Gwen semi-shocked. That girl never apologizes for anything. Instead of responding, Tiffany tells Veronica and I that she's stepping out for a smoke.

I'm not sure if we should discuss things further or let bygones be bygones, but it's not exactly my place to make that call.

Tiffany returns just as I finshed tuning my guitar and walked up to Gwen. If I didn't know Tiffany, I'd say she was going to punch Gwen in the face with the speed she was moving.

"That whole situation was fucked up, but I know how hard it is for you to apologize to people, so I forgive you." Tiffany pulls Gwen in for a hug and for the first time in awhile, things seem okay between the four of us.

"I would like to reiterate that Gwendolyn said I was right." I smiled proudly.

"Yeah, don't get used to hearing that from me."

It was nice while it lasted, at least.

Band practice turned out to be super productive, and it hasn't been that way in a long time. We got a lot of work done today and hopefully we can keep this up for awhile. We spent about 7 hours in our rehearsal space and it felt more like 5 minutes. Time really does fly when you're surrounded by positivity.

The girls and I said our goodbyes and parted ways for the night. Tiffany had mentioned that we haven't seen each other this past month like we usually do. Of course I feel bad about that, she's been my best friend for so long. But I've been spending a lot of time with the Guns N' Roses boys...Axl in particular can be a persuasive little shit when he wants to be. I've already told the guys that Tiffany's birthday is this weekend and they can't keep monopolizing my time. I need more feminine energy!

"Julie!" I hear someone call out. I recognize the voice as soon as it hits my ears.

"Hey Slash, what's up?"

Minus Izzy, I'm becoming pretty close with the members of Guns N' Roses. I just wish that man wasn't so goddamn illusive.

Slash and I walk and talk. Clearly he's decided we're hanging out tonight. I don't mind it much since Tiffany's going out with Victor tonight, Gwen is visiting her parents, and Veronica is doing god knows what, like always. So even if I wanted to make plans with someone, it's not like I had anyone else anyway.

"I don't think anyone's at the house, besides Izzy." From the way he phrased his sentence, it was a clear indication that Slash had no interest in staying at the "Hell House" with Izzy, he usually opted to spend his nights the same way he spent his days: completely wasted. It didn't matter if it was alcohol or heroin, if it got him high, he'd take it.

But this isn't about Slash. I want to see Izzy...I might have a slight obsession with a man who has never even said a single word to me, but I mean, he's absolutely gorgeous. There's something about him that keeps me drawn to him and I'm determined to figure out what it is. No matter how long it takes me.

"Then let's go to the house."

Before Slash can process what I said so he could say no, I grab him by the arm and run as fast as I possibly can while dragging a grown man behind me. It only takes about 15 seconds of running before I realized, Slash in tow or not, I'm very out of shape. I'm running out of breath, determined to get to the band's house. I'll be wheezing all the way down Sunset Boulevard and trying to convince myself it's worth it by the time we get there. But knowing me, it won't.

We enter the house and lo and behold...

Izzy isn't there. Despite me struggling to breathe, the look of defeat plasters my face and Slash starts laughing his ass off.

"Izzy's out working, I just wanted to see how you'd react. Sure didn't think you'd go runnin to our house, though." Slash manages to get out through his fit of hysterical laughter.

"Slash! Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because I know you like him. I got the confirmation I needed. Just wait until I tell Duff!" Slash heads for the stairs, but I grab his arm before he starts his ascent.

"You cannot tell Duff." I tell him seriously.

"He can't tell Duff what?" Duff appears from the kitchen

"And why are you out of breath? And why are you holding Slash's arm?"

"She totally likes Izzy, dude. I told her that he was here and she dragged me through the streets. We almost got hit by like, 5 cars."

My shocked face slowly twists into a look of confusion as Duff rolls his eyes, pulls out his wallet, and hands Slash a 20 dollar bill.

"Dude, you guys bet on whether I liked Izzy or not?" I was part shocked, part confused, and part mortified that my crush on Izzy was that obvious. Izzy seems like a smart man, so I couldn't stop thinking about the possibility of him knowing and not talking to me because I'm a weird chick who likes him without even knowing anything about him.

"Yeah, and now I'm out 20 bucks because you can't control your goddamn hormones." Duff says in mock frustration. I ignore his joke as the overthinking sets in further.

"Does...does he know?"

"Nah. The man's pretty oblivious, plus he doesn't pay much attention to anything except drugs, work, and music. It's fine." Duff reassures me.

Then Izzy walks in. The three of us get quiet when he shuts the door behind him. He looked at the guys then looks me up and down. He then looks back up at my face like he's done several times before, but this time he doesn't look away when our eyes meet, not immediately, at least. I feel my heart start beating a mile a minute at the momentary eye contact and feel myself longing for it again when it breaks.

He nods his head and walks up the stairs. I guess his first words to me will have to wait another day.

"What does Izzy do for work?" I ask, to no one in particular.

"He's a drug dealer." Duff replies nonchalantly.

I don't know how to respond to that, so I don't. Slash and Duff have their own conversation and I find myself wondering what kind of person Izzy is. I don't know what to think. All I know is he's a damn good musician, an equally gifted writer, and a drug dealer.

Who the hell is Izzy Stradlin?

#guns n' roses #guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic #axl rose #steven adler #izzy stradlin #duff mckagan #slash #slash gnr #saul hudson

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epilepticzuko · 4 years ago

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It's time for me to honor my url and give you my epileptic Zuko headcanons aka me projecting into Zuko not for the first nor the last time since @haikyuupaladin (very easily) convinced me that Zuko has epilepsy

The thing is, seizures are basically your brain sending the wrong electric signals to your body, which results in every firebender being at risk of seizures if they don't control their abilities properly, even if not everyone ends up having them, even less actually developing epilepsy

But I like to project onto Zuko so he's epileptic now

The first couple of times he bends anything, nobody notices, not even himself, because he was having absence seizures (a good example of how these work is when people stop talking mid sentence, look into space while doing nothing, then start talking again as if nothing had happened. The person in question doesn't know it happened), which everyone dismissed as him being distracted or daydreaming

He goes a couple years not noticing he's having seizures, and they start to be more and more uncommon once he starts to get a grasp of firebending in general

He's actually a pretty good bender, he's just not as good as Azula because Azula's body doesn't need to be silently bending seizures away (which is also the reason he seems to be unable to bend lightning, because his body is already busy keeping him away from seizures, which reduces the energy he can use to bend external things)

Everything is fine, until his mother is gone and the stress rises in ways he had never experienced before

Not-so-fun fact: stress is one of the most effective seizure triggers. So suddenly Zuko is not only having absence seizures, but he's also having myoclonics (these ones can be summarized as sudden jerks of the limbs) which are... specially unfortunate when you have the bitchlord as a father

Because Ozai already didn’t like Zuko, and now Zuko is accidentally spilling food and drinks in front of people, and Ozai is sure he's doing it in purpose to make him look bad

If it wasn't clear, he's not, but Ozai sucks

Now, as I'm projecting, I'm going to say Zuko's seizures are also triggered by strong emotions, you know, the only kind of emotions he seems to have

So things only get worse after he's banished :)

Seizures of all kinds become a daily thing, that is, until Iroh catches on what's going on and explains to him what epilepsy is

It doesn't make Zuko less angry at life, but at least he's now more open to follow Iroh's breathing exercises and accept to sleep a little more (still not well, but a little more than usual)

His seizures start to become more and more spaced out with time, especially while they are living in Ba Sing Se, ans even more so after the whole being at war with himself thing

After he leaves Ba Sing Se and guilt is creeping in, he starts to get auras (it's this weird thing one gets before having a seizure, it's hard to explain), but at this point he has learnt so much he is able to fight seizures before they happen

He still has a big one after the day of the black sun because confronting your abusive father takes a tool on you, and this leads to him not remembering very well what happened. One moment he was confronting him and the next he was being licked by Appa

Whom, by the way, is really good to have around after a seizure, because he's super soft and one wants to lay on something soft after your body decides to act without your consent

After his visit to the sun warriors, his seizures start to be the most spaced out the have ever been, it’s almost like he didn’t have epilepsy at all (almost, he still has war stress). Turns out learning a better way to firebend is like getting the right medication

The dragons also tell him they have epilepsy too and therefore every epileptic person is blessed by them, sorry not sorry, I don't make the rules, I am now blessed by dragons

The idea of bloodbending is specially terrifying for him because he knows firsthand how bad it feels to have your body acting without your permission, but at least seizures aren't controlled by anyone at all

Yeah, he's 100% on board with making bloodbending illegal

Back to epilepsy, the rest of the gaang only finds out about it because Aang spaced out in front of Zuko and, naturally, he jumped to conclusions and got that weird kind of excitement you get when you find someone who also has epilepsy (with a side of “if even the avatar can’t avoid epilepsy, then maybe I’m not so disgraceful!”)

Aang was just daydreaming tho

That doesn't stop everyone from asking about his previous rambling about epilepsy and giving him a stern talk about how he’s not disgraceful

He and Toph start the disabled rich kids club just because they can (even though Zuko still feels kinda weird about thinking of himself as disabled, but he’ll get over it)

Toph promises to kill anyone who tries to put stuff in Zuko’s mouth during a seizure (seriously people, we’re not going to swallow our tongues, the whole wallet in your mouth only helps to break jaws)

Zuko has never had a tonic clonic (the kind of seizure most people think about when they hear the word seizure), but he’s not going to deny Toph the pleasure of planning murder

Everything’s cool until he receives Azula’s lightning and he’s having almost daily seizures... again!

The assassination attempts aren’t helping

It eventually gets better again tho

So much better he starts to manage to go several months seizure free and, eventually, years

By the time Izumi is born, he has been seizure free for five years, hooray!

Toph is kinda bummed she won’t get to make people swallow their own wallets tho

Except Zuko is not the only epileptic person in the world, so she does end up getting the chance to do it and now everyone in the Avatar universe knows better than to put wallets in people’s mouths

And when movers get invented nobody even thinks of using strobes, Toph defeated evil before it started, all hail Toph, the end

#zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla.txt #toph #aang #epileptic zuko #epilepsy headcanon #seizures #katara #bloodbending #lightningbending

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neverending-space · 4 years ago

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Jim Moriarty x reader

A/n: So whenever I’m procrastinating, I write stories and I thought, why not share them, you know, cause I’ve been putting off writing ‘Get away’ and I was watching Reichenbach Fall

Note: there’s no real conclusion, it’s just for fun.

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“There’s been another one! Pentonville!!” Donovan threw her phone down as Greg swerved past other cars in desperation. “Greg you’re gonna kill us!!” You shouted, holding onto the seat in front of you. The minute the car stopped, you, Donovan and Greg ran out the car and into the building, putting on Kevlar vests (just in case) on your way to the vault. The vault opened and there, sitting on the throne in all his Irish glory, decked out in the Crown Jewels, was James Moriarty. “No rush.” He said in a carefree manner, waving his hand for theatrics. ‘God I love that man...’ You thought, snapping a picture of him before SWAT cuffed him. “What are you doing!?” Donovan asked you, venom laced in her voice. “What do you thing I’m doing Donovan? This is literally the coolest thing ever.” You sigh, putting your phone in your back pocket. As SWAT marched James past you, he stopped and leaned in. “Send that to me, will you darling?” He winked as they pulled him away. You struggled hard to keep the blush off of your face. Ever since the bombing case two years ago (which John dubbed ‘The Great Game’) you had had an incredibly annoying infatuation with the criminal. You would often get little notes signed with a simple ‘JM’. You knew it was a terrible idea to get emotionally invested, but oh well right? Greg gave you a strange look as you two were walking out to wait for John and Sherlock. “What?” You ask, turning you head slightly to get a better look at him. “Nothin” He brushed you off. “Greg...” You sighed, shaking your head. “It’s just- you act... weird around him.” He jerked his head in the direction of Moriarty’s departing police car. “I act weird around everyone.” You roll your eyes, but you can feel the heat returning to your face. “I know, it’s just- different. Did he do something to you?” He asked, fatherly concern showing on his face. “No. This line of questioning is over.” You cross your arms and take a defensive stance as the boys arrive. “Garry, what did you say to my sister?” Sherlock sauntered up as Greg threw his hands in the air. “C’mon you two, I’ll show you the footage.” You beckon them as you started walking. Unfortunately Sherlock is a million times taller than you, so he caught up easily. “Are you okay?” He asked, his curls blowing in his face. “I’m fine Sherl, it’s my thing, Greg was just concerned that’s all.” He looked at you, confusion now etched in his features, as if he was silently asking ‘who?’. You let out a snort of laughter and his face relaxed.

“Remember, he’s a psychopath, he’s insane!!” Greg yelled after you as you make your way to the interrogation room that Jim currently inhabited. You opened the door, looking back at Greg you yelled, “I’m a big girl dad, I can take care of myself.” You hear Jim chuckle as you close the door and sit down. “Hey man, how’s prison?” You ask, taking out a notepad and pen. He looked at you skeptically. “You’re going to take notes..?” He asked, annoyance evident in his voice. “Pff no! I’m not an idiot! I tend to doodle when I get bored.” You said, spinning the pen between your fingers. Slowly, he put his hands widespread on the table and stood up, leaning forward. “Is that a challenge...?” He asked, his tone dangerous. You mirrored him and held eye contact. “Damn straight.”

You were hanging out with Sherlock in his flat when the phone rang. After a few moments he hung up. “Not guilty?” You asked, following him to the kitchen. He hummed a response before putting the kettle on. You jumped to reach a high shelf and grabbed a box of biscuits. Sherlock snorted when he saw you. “Aw shut up long legs.” You grumbled, pulling a few biscuits onto a plate. You set them on the small table beside John’s chair as Sherlock picked up his violin. You picked up your copy of ‘IT’ and flopped onto the couch as you heard the stairs creak. “Most people knock.” You said, not looking up. “...But then again, you’re not most people... are you?” Sherlock asked, turning around. “Kettles just boiled.” Putting your book down at the mention of tea, you took in Moriarty’s appearance. He was wearing a nice white button up with matching grey pants and a blazer. He was also wearing a cool looking tie pin. “Johann Sebastian would be appalled” He said, picking up an apple out of the bowl that you had placed, his Irish drawl as prominent as ever. “May I?” He asked, tossing the apple up in the air and catching it again. “Please.” Sherlock said, using his violin bow to gesture towards John’s seat. Being the devil he was, Jim chose to sit in Sherlock’s seat instead, shooting a smirk in your direction. “You know when he was on his death bed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his... pieces. The boy stopped before he got to the end-“ Sherlock interrupted him. “The dying man jumped out of his bed, ran straight to the piano and finished it.” He said, pouring tea. “Couldn’t cope with an unfinished melody.” You and Jim said at the same time. He, once again looked over at you, a sparkle in his eye before Sherlock’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Neither can you, that’s why you’ve come.” Sherlock walked over to you and handed you a cup, which you took with a smile. “But be honest, you’re just a tiny bit pleased...” You hid your face with the teacup, silently hoping the boys wouldn’t pay much attention to you. “What with the verdict?” Sherlock asked, now handing Jim his tea. “With me-“ He said, a sly smile on his face. ‘Fuck... Stop being so hot!’ You thought. “Back on the streets.” Sometimes you wondered how he managed to sound so much like a snake. “Every fairytale needs a good old-fashioned villain.” He said, staring up at Sherlock who had yet to sit down. “You need me,” He stated in a matter of fact tone. “Or you’re nothing... because we’re just alike; you and I. Except you’re boring... you’re on the side of the angels.” Sherlock ignored this and instead changed the subject. “Got to the jury of course.” Silently sipping your tea, you observed the two. It was like a scene from a TV show or something. “I got into the Tower of London, you think I can’t worm my way into twelve hotel rooms?” He asked as Sherlock finally sat down. “Cable network.” You said, just realizing it. Their attention was now turned on you as Jim began to explain. “Every hotel room has a personalized screen, and every person had their pressure point.” It felt like he was staring into your soul now. What he said had vaguely reminded you of Charles Magnussen, a blackmail extraordinaire that Mycroft had told you to stay away from. Naturally you learned everything you could about him. Real creep he was.

“Someone that they want to protect from harm...” At this, he turned to stare right at Sherlock, there was no doubt in your mind about what he was insinuating. “Easy peasy.” He said, taking a sip from his tea, your eyes automatically drifting over to his pink lips. “So how’re you gonna do it?” Sherlock asked, finally speaking, “Burn me?” He too brought his cup to his lips. “Eh that’s the problem...the final problem. Have you worked out what it is yet?” He asked, his voice light and detached. “What’s the final problem? I did tell you, but did you listen?” He taunted, ending his question in a sing song voice. Putting down his cup, he began to tap his fingers on his leg. You focused your attention on that. ‘Seems very familiar...’ You thought, storing the pattern away in your mind palace for further inspection at a later date. “How hard do you find it- having to say ‘I don’t know’?” Sherlock responded immediately with, “I don’t know.” You smirked, knowing that you would’ve said the same. “Oh that’s clever, very clever, awfully clever-“ Jim mumbled as Sherlock shot you a quick smile. “Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet?” Jim asked, peaking your attention. “Told them what?” Sherlock asked, steapling his fingers. “Why I broke into all those places and never took anything.” Of course you already knew as well. “No.” He responded. “But you understand.” It was more of a statement than anything. “Obviously.” Sherlock responded. Jim turned his body to face you. “Do you?” He made eye contact. “Of course.” You said, trying to take the emotion out of your words. “Off you go then.” He took a bite of a piece of apple he had carved out. “You want me to tell you what you already know.” You said, putting down your tea. “No, I want you to prove that you know it.” He briefly gestured at you. “You didn’t take anything because you don’t need to.” You said, matter of factly. “Good...” He encouraged you to continue. “You’ll never need to take anything ever again.” Feeling more confident, you let yourself relax. “Very good... because..?” Jim went back to carving his apple. “Because nothing. Nothing in the Bank of England, the Tower of London, or Pentonville prison could possibly match the value of the key that could get you into all three.” Sherlock looked over with what could have been interpreted as a proud look, before Jim started talking again. “I can open any door, anywhere, with a few tiny lines of computer code... No such thing as a private bank account now, they’re all mine. No such thing as secrecy, I own secrecy. Nuclear codes? I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king- and honey, you should see me in a crown...” He shot a quick wink at you before putting on a relaxed smile. “Twenty quid and I’ll get that tattooed.” You spoke up, breaking the tension Jim caused. He let out a little frown, knowing he lost Sherlock’s undivided attention. “Deal.” Sherlock said, tossing you his wallet. “Coolcoolcool, I’ll book the appointment.” You said, grabbing your laptop. “You were advertising throughout the trial, showing all the things you can do...” Sherlock observed, brining the tension back. “And you were helping. Big client list, rouge governments, intelligence communities, terror cells... they all want me... suddenly, I’m Mister Sex...” You stopped tyiping. “Ugh, amen!” You thought, but apparently you had said that out loud and they boys were giving you extremely opposite looks. Jim was smirking at you, his eyes wandering to who knows where and Sherlock was glaring at you. You cleared your throat, your face flushing bright red. “I’ll just- yea I’ll just leave- um, okay, bye. Don’t-“ You pointed at Jim, “Don’t kill anyone.” You slowly picked your laptop up and ran out the door.

#jim moriarty #moriarty x reader #bbc sherlock #the reichenbach fall #fanfic #sherlock fanfic

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mikauzoran · 4 years ago

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Lila Fake-Dating/Emotional Blackmail Adrienette: Betting Against the House: Chapter Four

Read it on AO3: Betting Against the House: Chapter Four: The Worst Date Ever

“…So…” Lila finally spoke up on their short stroll to Assa Café just down the street from the school. “Nino’s going to fail Physics?” she carefully sounded him out, trying to determine if Nino’s excuse to pull Adrien aside held water.

Adrien made a thoughtful noise. “Maybe not fail outright, but he’s certainly not going to do well.” He cast her a sidelong glance and then pretended to come clean. “The Physics project isn’t actually what Nino and I talked about.”

Her grip on his arm tightened until it was almost painful. “Oh? Then what did you two talk about? Surely you’re not spreading slander about me.”

Adrien scoffed. “Lila, do you think I’d risk Marinette’s safety like that?”

It wasn’t a lie. He was simply leaving it up to her to decide what the truth was.

She seemed to come to the conclusion that he wouldn’t play around when it came to protecting Marinette because her hold on his arm started to loosen.

“Besides,” he sighed, “what would be the point of telling anyone? It’s not like they’d believe me. You’ve got the wool pulled too far down over their eyes.”

Lila hummed softly as she contemplated the merits of his statements.

“Nino’s planning a surprise for Alya,” Adrien volunteered to throw her off the scent. “He’s been consulting me because I’m a hopeless romantic and good at giving gifts and orchestrating surprises.”

“Is that so?” Lila chuckled, a sly grin beginning to form at the corners of her lips. “Prove it. I expect a romantic gift from you promptly.”

Adrien shrugged, pretending that it was of no consequence.

On the inside, he heaved an enormous sigh of relief because it appeared that he had outfoxed her and that she believed he hadn’t said anything to Nino about the blackmail.

“Anything for you, Ma Fleur,” he replied obediently.

They arrived at the café—small and intimate with counter service and only a few seats—a couple minutes later.

Lila did not look impressed as she glanced over the menu. “I guess I could get one of their detox juices. What do you usually get here?”

“Typically, I order the salmon or tofu bentou,” he informed, getting out his wallet. “Their ingredients are really fresh, and the chef is fantastic, so you can’t actually go wrong.”

“The lunchboxes do look good,” she granted reservedly, not wanting to appear too excited. “But rice has so many carbs.”

“So just eat the meat and the vegetables,” Adrien suggested with a shrug. “It’s not like you have to eat everything.”

She pursed her lips, debating. “Which is better: the miso pork or the teriyaki chicken?”

“I don’t know, actually,” he sheepishly admitted. “I’ve never had them. I’m a pescatarian.”

She stood there for almost twenty full seconds gawking at him. “No, you’re not.”

“I’m pretty sure I am,” he snorted lightly, not appreciating her dictating tone. “And I think I would be the best person to ask about my eating habits.”

“I’ve seen you eat chicken before,” she accused, acting like this was some kind of personal betrayal. “I saw you when your father invited me over to dine with you.”

“I’ll eat it if it’s put in front of me,” he confessed, “but, when I have any say about what I eat, I’m pescatarian, so I’ve never ordered the miso pork or the teriyaki chicken here.”

She blew out an indignant little huff, crossing her arms over her chest. “You don’t have to be such a jerk about it.”

Adrien physically bit his tongue to hold in a snarky response.

“…I guess I’ll get the miso pork,” she eventually decided. “Evian to drink and a matcha tiramisu. It really did sound good when I heard you talking to Elise about it the other day.”

“Perfect. Sounds good.” He gave a nod of approval as he moved down the counter to the register to pay.

“I’m going to take a seat,” she apprised, turning in a way so that her hair whipped around behind her sharply.

Seating was extremely limited—a bench seat along the wall opposite the counter and a handful of tables with individual chairs on the other side—and the restaurant was very small, so Lila didn’t have far to go. She could hear Adrien exchanging pleasantries with the cashier, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying because they were holding their conversation in Japanese.

This irritated her for a reason she couldn’t quite pinpoint, and it only got more intense as the cashier laughed and smiled at something Adrien had said.

Lila took a deep breath and forced herself to stay calm as she watched Adrien finish at the counter and bring over their trays.

She hated his charm, his irresistibility, his boyish handsomeness, and the way he was so nice to everyone who wasn’t her.

Conversation was sparse as they consumed their food.

They’d never really talked in the years that they’d known one another. Adrien was civil and polite but didn’t make an effort to initiate chitchat, and Lila hadn’t bothered to get to know him either.

He was just a pretty face and a bleeding heart whom she was more than willing to use and step on in order to climb her way up. Besides, she was more than half certain that he hated her, despite his “moral high ground”, “patience of a saint” act. She had never seen the point in truly getting to know him. It wasn’t like he really cared about getting to know her, despite his pretended amicability.

“You’re acting awfully sullen,” she observed when five minutes passed without either saying anything to the other.

He shrugged.

He did that a lot, and it annoyed her. It was like he couldn’t be bothered to give her a proper answer. She didn’t like him dismissing her like that.

“You should smile,” she advised. “The point of this date is for you to make a show of how in love you are with me and how happy we are together. I’m dating you for the media exposure, so stop sulking and look like you’re excited to be with me or something.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled darkly. “It’s a little difficult to act cheerful when you’re upset.”

“What do you have to be upset about?” she challenged.

He eyed her with a dangerously bland look, cocking an eyebrow as if daring her to say it again. “You took something important from me, Lila,” he explained flatly. “My father is a little stingy with my schedule, so I had to plan tonight’s game night with my friends almost a month in advance, but, now, here I am wasting an evening with you. I was looking forward to game night, but you ruined that for me, so, yeah. I think most people would say I had something to be upset about.”

She gave a little snort and tossed her head. “Well, be upset later. Right now, you’re on the clock, so make a good show of being in love with me.”

He sighed, closing his eyes and taking a couple deep breaths to defuse his temper. When he opened them, he smiled brightly, looking for all the world like he was enjoying their outing. “Is this better?”

“Perfect.” She decreed, satisfied…until he reached across the table and stole a bite of her matcha tiramisu. “Hey! Thief! I didn’t say you could have any!” she squawked in protest.

He smirked at her around his spoon. “Sorry, Ma Fleur. I didn’t think you’d mind. I mean…don’t you love me enough to share?”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Come on,” he teasingly whispered. “If I have to put on an act, so do you. No one’s going to believe I love someone who bosses me around and treats me like garbage. You have to at least pretend to be worthy of love; otherwise, everyone’s going to see through this sham.”

Her lip curled back into a scowl as she hissed, “I don’t know, Adrien. You seem to love your father, even though he treats you like dirt. Maybe people will just assume you’re a masochist.”

Adrien recoiled, the fake smile dropping clear off his face. He gazed at Lila with contempt but didn’t voice a response.

Her sneer phased into a discontented frown. “You’re going to have to do better at this fake dating thing in the future when we’re in public; otherwise, Marinette might find that there are some unfortunate rumors circulating about her.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “There are literally two or three other people in this restaurant right now, and they’re all around back. No one’s watching our shameful little display, and I did just fine all day at school. Back off, Lila.”

It was a gamble confronting her like that, but, for once, it payed off.

Lila shrugged and sat back in her seat, returning to her dessert disinterestedly. “You did do well at school today. …Make sure you keep up the good work, and maybe we won’t have a problem.”

Adrien nodded, scooping up some rice with his chopsticks and bringing it up to his mouth to keep himself busy so that he wouldn’t press her any further and accidentally push her over the edge.

Things were quiet again for a stretch, each of them lost in their own reverie.

Several minutes later, Lila spoke in a soft, defensive voice, asking out of seemingly nowhere, “What do you like about Marinette so much, anyway?”

Adrien looked up and blinked at her in surprise, unsure if she had actually said anything and whether he had heard her right.

She arched an eyebrow at him challengingly. “Well? What do you like about her?”

Normally, this would be the point where Adrien went off on a bullet-pointed lecture about how amazing and wonderful Marinette was, but, always wary of Lila, he reined in his kneejerk response and formulated a more reserved reply.

“Her selflessness, mostly,” he confessed, cautiously elaborating. “She’s kind, even when she doesn’t have to be, and she’s always willing to take on more work on top of her already overwhelming load in order to help a friend. She’s just a good person like that. She doesn’t do it to get anything out of it…she’s just good,” he finished with a shrug.

Lila snorted, casting her eyes back down at her tiramisu. “Figures you’d go for that goody-goody martyr act. You’re so gullible.”

“…May I ask what you hate about her so much?” Adrien inquired, attempting to foster a genuine conversation.

If he could figure out what made Lila tick, maybe he could come up with a way to gain the upper hand and declaw her. He knew from studying history that some people really were just evil, but he couldn’t help but think that there was some reason why Lila acted the way she did. If he could figure her out, maybe she wouldn’t turn out to be such a lost cause after all.

Lila tossed her head, heat rising on the back of her neck and staining the tips of her ears crimson. “What I hate most is that everyone loves her so much,” she spat with venom. “She doesn’t even have to try, and everybody loves her. She’s so obnoxious with her ‘holier than thou’ attitude. She acts like she’s better than me, but she’s not, and she doesn’t deserve everybody fawning over her all the time.”

Adrien nodded, taking a long sip of his houjicha.

She was jealous, no different than Chloé. The only difference was how Lila went about expressing her jealousy.

Chloé was just a brat and a bully. (He meant that in the nicest, most loving way possible because Chloé was like a sister to him, but that didn’t stop him from seeing her less attractive sides.)

Lila was insidious. She wasn’t outwardly vicious or vindictive like Chloé. Instead, she spun intricate plans like a spider lying in wait to capture unsuspecting victims in her web of silver-tongued lies.

“Have you ever considered that it’s okay for Marinette to get attention?” he tentatively suggested. “It’s not a zero-sum game. Just because people are paying attention to her, that doesn’t take anything away from you, does it?”

“Any time people are fussing over her, they’re not lavishing me with attention; therefore, I do lose out if people pay attention to her,” Lila argued hotly. “You can forget about any delusions you have of making us get along and be friends. She has things that I want, and I’m prepared and willing to take them from her. There are some things that aren’t shareable.”

Adrien’s brow slid into a soft frown. “Like what?”

“Like you,” she replied airily, not letting him see the weight she placed on or the importance of this acquisition. “For starters, anyway.”

“I see,” he replied neutrally, taking another sip of his tea.

What he wanted to say was, “You’ll never have me”.

“Well…have you ever considered that maybe people would like you, even if you were just yourself around them?” he tried from a different angle.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re gullible and naïve. I’m my true self around you, and you despise me, don’t you?”

He bit the inside of his cheek. “Despise is a little strong,” he hedged.

She laughed mockingly at that. “Please. I’m the bane of your existence.”

“That would be Papillon,” he corrected. “I don’t necessarily hate you, Lila. You make me really angry sometimes, and I want to wring your neck when you hurt my friends, but, most of the time, I don’t hate you,” he explained, trying to convince her.

She cocked an eyebrow at him in suspicion, not taking his word for it.

“Most of the time, you’re an annoyance, and I resent you for being a crappy person,” he summarized. “But I don’t hate you.”

She nodded slowly, analyzing his words. “…I see…. So…how do your personal experiences with me lead you to believe that others would still fawn over me if I dropped the act and stopped telling them what they wanted to hear?”

Adrien pursed his lips as he came up with nothing.

“Mmhm.” She kept nodding. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Well. Thanks for the suggestion, but I think I like things the way they are at present, so I’m just going to keep doing what I’m doing. Seriously, thanks, though,” she replied, voice dripping with irony.

“Doesn’t it ever get to you, though?” he pressed, showing his hand a little. “Not being able to be authentically yourself and accepted as you are by anyone?”

She tipped her head to the side, taking a slow sip of her Evian water as she pondered the earnestness of his tone. “Not really. Why? Is this a personal problem you’re having?”

He pulled the shutters down over his emotions, carefully composing his face into a neutral expression.

Like hell he was going to get into the complexities of the lies he had to tell the people he loved in order to protect them and his secret identity with Lila. She didn’t get to know how it tore him apart sometimes not being able to share aspects of his life as Adrien with Ladybug and how he longed to confide in Nino or Marinette about life as Chat Noir.

“If it were, I wouldn’t be talking about it with you,” he informed levelly keeping the ire out of his voice.

A quirky smile slowly turned up the corners of her lips as she chuckled, “Then why did you think I’d open up and be all vulnerable with you when you asked me?”

He blinked, surprised by the question.

He found himself hard pressed to answer her.

“Because you’re such a nice, sweet guy that everyone spills their guts to you?” she snickered. “Don’t try to psychoanalyze me, Adrien. I’m not a problem for you to fix, and I don’t need you to save me. I’m perfectly happy the way that I am.”

“Are you actually?” He really had to wonder. “How can you be? You don’t have any real friends…I mean…unless you count my father, and I don’t think he actually counts.”

She shrugged, unconcerned. “I don’t need friends. Friends are for mushy, weak people like you. You band together to protect yourselves because you’re stronger that way, but I don’t need other people like that. I’m tough enough to make it on my own.”

Adrien thought she was way off the mark, but it was obvious that he wouldn’t be convincing her about the benefits of friends at this time, let alone anytime soon.

“…Have you ever had friends?” he asked while she was in a divulging mood.

Even though she’d said not to analyze her, he couldn’t help but be curious. He had to believe that if he could just figure her out, he could help her stop hurting others and herself.

She paused to think for a moment, little trenches burrowing their way across her forehead as she did so. “…Maybe when I was little,” she finally answered. “I remember there were some kids around my age where we were living at the time, and we played together. I don’t remember their names. My family never stayed in one place long enough for me to really get to know anyone, so there was never any point in making friends in the way that you mean. These past three years is the longest I’ve ever been in one country, let alone one city. It’s kind of weird being stuck with the same people for so long.”

“That must have been hard, not feeling like there was any point in getting attached to anyone because you knew it wouldn’t be permanent,” he responded thoughtfully.

She rolled her eyes, balled up her napkin, and tossed it at him. “Oh, stop. I don’t need or want your pity. Stop trying to find explanations for why I am the way I am,” she commanded wearily. “I’m not some tragic romance novel antihero with deep reasons for acting the way I do. There’s no trauma for you to uncover and heal in order to make me a ‘good’ person. You don’t get to play hero this time.”

He held up his hands in surrender, backing down.

He didn’t think she was telling the truth exactly, but she was very clear about her wishes for him to drop it.

“Okay. Sorry,” he bowed out demurely, scooping the napkin she had thrown up off the floor and depositing it onto his tray with his own rubbish.

She snorted softly, crossing her arms. “Real people aren’t so black and white,” she grumbled. “We’re all grey on the inside.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” he agreed halfheartedly, still thinking that maybe there was something he could do to get through to her and make her want to change for the better.

“Give up,” she groaned, seeing the gears in his head moving. “You’re such a goody-goody. Just like Marinette. I’d say you two deserved each other if I didn’t want you for myself.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he chuckled, a faint smile coming back to his lips.

“This date is over,” she announced abruptly, sounding tired as she rose to her feet. “I didn’t come here for you to turn me into your next do-gooder project. I came here so that people would see me acting all lovey-dovey with Adrien Agreste. Since that’s not happening, you might as well take me home and go hang out with your loser friends like you wanted.”

Adrien hurriedly drained the rest of his tea and got together the rubbish to take over to the waste disposal bin.

“Sorry I’m such poor company,” he apologized, not bothering to put any feeling behind the words as he picked up her school bag to carry for her and held out his arm for her to take hold of.

“You’d better be,” she huffed, taking his arm and letting him escort her out of the restaurant to where his driver was waiting for them, parked on the street outside. “This is the worst date I’ve ever been on.”

“Have you been on many dates?” he wondered aloud without thinking.

“Plenty,” she retorted defensively. “Usually, the boys I date shower me with compliments and can’t take their eyes off of me the whole evening.”

“I must be defective,” he snickered, opening the car door for her. “Sorry. I promise I’ll do better at school tomorrow in front of our audience.”

“You’d better,” she grumbled, climbing in and crossing her arms sulkily.

Adrien made a show of walking Lila to her door and giving her a parting kiss on the cheek in case any paparazzi were watching. “See you tomorrow, Ma Fleur.”

“I’ll miss you, My Prince,” she giggled, delighting in his compliance.

He slumped in the seat as soon as he got back into the car, feeling like all of the energy had been sucked out of him. He looked up to find Victor, his bodyguard, sneaking glances at him in the rearview mirror, trying to assess whether he was okay.

“Rough day,” he sighed, summoning up a tired smile. “I’m actually supposed to be over at Marinette’s playing video games right now, though, so…you don’t think you could drive me over there, do you?”

Victor gave a grunt and turned the car in the direction of Tom and Sabine’s.

#Adrinette #Adrienette #Marichat #Lady Noir #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Lila Rossi #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Fake Dating #Emotional Blackmail #Lila Gets Exposed #Happy Ending #Mikau's Writings #Betting Against the House

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darkblueboxs · 5 years ago

Note

If you're taking requests, maybe the foxes reacting to soft andreil? I love seeing their relationship through outside perspectives

Sorry for the delay! I ended up with two very different ideas for this and wrote both of them. I’ll be posting the other one in the next week or so! [EDIT: Here it is!]This was great fun to write. Thank you for the request.

In the Eye of the Beholder

Read here or on AO3

#1 Dan

Dan raps her knuckles against the door to the monster’s flat and waits. Nicky greets her with an impressive mop of bedhair and a baffled expression which smooths over only when Neil darts past, citing brunch with Dan as his excuse for being awake at such a thoroughly reasonable hour on a Sunday morning. He’s in high spirits, from what Dan can tell, rolling on the balls of his feet as they wait for the elevator to arrive. Dan is ready to put it down to excitement over their plans – she has a stack of potential recruits under her arm thicker than Les Misérables for them to discuss, hopefully with a stack of pancakes of equal height on the side. Then she spots the light bruise peeking over the hem of Neil’s collar, and draws a very different conclusion about the source of Neil’s good mood.

She smiles as they step into the elevator, but keeps the observation to herself. While some members of the team love to badger Neil for the slightest insight into his relationship, Dan is willing to push her curiosity aside for the sake of Neil’s privacy. He has plenty other teammates to pester him without her jumping on the bandwagon.

Just before the doors slide shut, an arm bursts through the gap, forcing them open. Andrew is as stoic and terrifying as ever (not that Dan would ever admit it) even while wearing Neil’s foxprint-patterned pyjama bottoms. The quickened rise and fall of his chest is the only hint that he ran to get here.

Neil raises an eyebrow at the sudden appearance of his underdressed partner.

Andrew lobs something at Neil which bounces off his chest and lands on the floor between his feet. Neil stoops to scoop it up, and Dan sees that it’s his wallet.

“Thanks.”

“Idiot,” Andrew huffs. He retracts his arm, and the doors slide shut on the sight of him stalking back to their dorm.

Neil taps the wallet against his hand a couple times before sliding it into the wallet.

“You’re both idiots if you think I’m letting you pay for brunch,” Dan says wryly.

Neil shakes his head. “I said I was going to pick up some stuff at the store afterwards. But thanks. Brunch is on me, though.”

“We’ll see,” Dan says, which means no. “Okay, I’ll admit it. That was sweet of him.”

The corner of Neil’s mouth twitches. “Nah. He’s just making sure I come back with the junk food I promised him.”

“Sure.” And, oh, Dan had been trying to be good, but she really can’t help herself any longer. “So, did you guys mean to give each other matching hickeys, or was that just a fun little accident?”

Neil slaps his hand to his neck and groans.

All in all, it’s a great morning.

#2 Kevin

Aaron’s trial is coming up. Kevin wouldn’t care (well, he would, but for different reasons) except that it’s making the cousins snippy and fractious. More so than usual. Andrew isn’t sleeping properly, although he would deny that it had any relation to the trial. Unfortunately, his insomnia is contagious, which ends with Neil losing focus at their night practice, having spent the best part of a week running on fumes and gatorade.

Kevin has been patient – patient by his standards, anyway – but the third fumbled catch in a row snaps his temper like brittle bone.

“Get the fuck off my court, Josten.” Kevin says, smacking the base of his racquet against the floor.

“Fuck you,” Neil answers reflexively. He stops to push his lengthening bangs back from his face.

“I’m not joking. You’re in no state to play. Get the fuck out.” Kevin wishes Neil would take it as the blessing it is, a night to re-focus and re-calibrate, but instead he’s glaring Kevin down like he just asked him to eat sewage.

Neil turns away from him to send another ball barrelling towards the goal. It misses by an entire foot.

“Neil,” Kevin says sharply, readying for a fight that neither of them have the energy nor patience for.

Before he can begin, the doors to the court bang open. Andrew stands in the entrance, arms crossed. It’s the expression that ends an argument before it’s had time to start; Kevin knows it far, far too well.

Andrew leads Neil away to the showers while Kevin continues his drills.

When he’s finished washing up, he finds the pair in the team lounge, collapsed on the wider of the couches. Neil is asleep, slumped into Andrew’s side. Andrew looks up as Kevin enters, but he doesn’t move his hand from its resting place in Neil’s hair. Although Neil was the only one of the pair training that night, Andrew’s hair is plastered against his head as though he, too, is fresh out of the shower. Kevin tries not to consider the implications.

They wait in silence for a few minutes, watching as Neil sleeps, properly sleeps, for the first time in far too long. Neither are willing to disturb him, but the night is late and Kevin has a whole host of classes waiting for him in the morning.

“I’ll walk back,” says Kevin. Andrew meets his gaze for a long moment before nodding briefly. The bags under his eyes betray him.

Kevin darts back into the lockers to pick up Neil’s abandoned kit bag. When he passes them again, Andrew has slouched onto his side, having manoeuvred Neil in front of him so they can both lie comfortably. His arm is slung protectively around Neil’s waist like Andrew is prepared to beat off the world to keep him there.

Kevin knows they spend more nights in each other’s bunks than out of them in the dorm, but somehow they’re always up and away before anyone else is awake enough to give them any hassle over it. Kevin doesn’t care, but Nicky can be overbearing at the best of times, and Aaron is… well, Aaron. But here, in the privacy of an empty stadium, it looks like Neil has finally found enough security to drop off at last, and Andrew looks ready to follow. Kevin shuts the door behind him, not quite smiling, but close. It was strange to some, the idea of Neil and Andrew, but anyone who saw them curled up together would see it plain as day. They just fitted.

The next day, Neil is closer to being himself again, and no more is said on the matter.

#4 Matt

Matt has to admit that press duty with Neil is never boring. The interviewers seem to share his opinion, visibly perking up when Neil follows Matt into the room. They lost to the Bearcats, but it was close enough that Matt doesn’t have to lie when he says that he’s proud of the team’s performance today.

“Some are saying that the failure of the defence line in later stages was due to Minyard’s performance in goal in the second half. How would you respond to that?

Matt doesn’t know why he bothers opening his mouth; the question may be directed to him, but he knows damn well that a boulder in the shape of Neil’s fury is already barrelling in this hapless reporter’s direction. “Well-”

“Last time I checked, this was a team sport,” Neil says loudly. “Was I hallucinating that, or has there been a few rule changes since yesterday?”

Matt isn’t sure whether to laugh or groan. Coach had told Matt to keep an eye on their resident fire-starter as though anyone was at all capable of controlling Neil when there was a mic in front of him. Matt feels sorry for the poor sucker that will one day be assigned to the role of Neil’s publicist, because he’s sure that Neil will drive them into an early grave alongside Matt’s.

“You have to admit that the number of goals that he let in-”

“I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that his entire defence line had already played two full quarters before he even stepped foot on court. People get tired the longer a game goes on, of course defence is going to suffer in the second half. But sure, keep pinning it on the goalie you clearly have it in for.”

Matt claps a hand on Neil’s back. “What he said,” he agrees, staring down the reporter.

They take no further questions.

Matt doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but when he leaves the showers to see Andrew and Neil alone in the locker room he ducks back out of sight. He walks into at least one dramatic confrontation amongst his teammates per week, and sometimes the best way to deal with the daily bouts of fox drama is to hide and wait for the storm to pass.

“Point me to where I asked you to lead my own personal crusade.” Andrew’s flat tones echo off the tiled floor. Matt regrets leaving his Ipod in his bag. The conversation doesn’t seem too personal to overhear, but Andrew and Neil have never been the easiest reads.

“I’m tired of them talking shit about you just because they have a vendetta against anyone with your…” Neil trails off. Matt imagines him to be making several expressive hand gestures; it’s hard to condense all of Andrew’s history and circumstances into one word. “…everything,” Neil settles on.

“Your principles should not intersect with my business.”

“Even if it could affect your future career?” Neil’s words are met, unsurprisingly, with silence. “Besides, yours do.”

“Explain.”

“When I first came here, you told Nicky to back off. Not out of concern for me. Because of your principles.”

This time, the silence stretches so long that Matt doesn’t think Andrew is going to answer.

“Point,” Andrew concedes.

“Besides, is it so bad that I’m standing up for you?”

“Only when it’s making new enemies for you. How many does one man need?”

“I’ve got room for a few more,” Neil says. There’s a rustle of movement, and, oh, are they kissing? Matt strongly suspects that they are kissing. It’s more than his life is worth to look. He takes a few steps back, rattles his kit loudly and makes as much noise as possible before entering the locker room. The pair are a safe distance apart by the time he enters, and Matt gives them a probably-not-convincingly-casual nod before busying himself with his change of clothes.

The pair spend the journey home holed up together at the back of the bus, and if he suspects that they’re doing a little more than talking, Matt keeps it to himself.

They’ve earned a little privacy, after all.

#5 Aaron

“Well, maybe if you stopped and took the time to, I don’t know, explain literally anything that you do, we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess.”

“Aaron,” says Bee, a gentle reprimand. He isn’t in the mood to hear it. His attention remains on his brother, who’s features remain the same stony, impassive blank that they have in almost every joint session to date. It’s an expression that makes Aaron want to tear his hair out, or kick his brother’s face in, or both.

“What would you like me to explain?” says Andrew, more of a challenge than an offer. Aaron snorts, because, where to fucking begin?

“How about we start with your little fuck-buddy, seeing as you’re so keen to start on mine.” Earlier that week, Andrew had returned early from a class to find Aaron and Katelyn together in their dorm room. The result, while not outright violent, had been deeply unpleasant for all involved. And of course, Andrew was being an ass about it.

“Aaron. We’ve talked about this. How can you expect Andrew to talk about Katelyn respectfully if you won’t offer the same respect to his own partner?”

Aaron scoffs. “It’s not the same.”

Andrew’s eyebrow… it doesn’t quirk, but it twitches. “Oh?”

Aaron gestures vaguely. “You know what I mean.”

“I can assure you that I don’t.”

“Me and Katelyn. You and Neil. It isn’t the same.”

“How so?” Andrew’s tone isn’t in the danger zone yet, but it’s edging towards it.

“I’m not talking about the gay thing. I’m talking about…” The hand Aaron was waving clenches into a fist as he drops it into his lap. “Don’t make me say it.”

Andrew and Bee share a look over his head.

“Aaron,” says Bee.

“I just, fucking…” Aaron grapples with words, struggling to find a combination that won’t rip them apart any worse than they already have been. “How the fuck can you expect me to believe that you and him… that you’re real. That you’re normal, that you’re like us, after everything those fuckers did to you. What makes him so different?”

Andrew watches him. Just when Aaron resigns himself to the fact that no answer is coming, Andrew speaks. “If I ask him to stop, he stops.”

Aaron bites down on the inside of his cheek so hard that he thinks he might have drawn blood. “It can’t be that simple.”

Andrew shrugs.

“How?”

Andrew’s eyes flicker upwards, like he would rather be anywhere else, having any other conversation in the world than this one. “We have a system. We don’t touch each other without asking first. We listen to each other. We talk. What more do you need me to say?”

Aaron falls silent. He doesn’t know what he needs from his brother, still, but it’s something.

“I have a question in return,” Andrew’s eyes flick to Bee. He isn’t looking for permission, but she nods in encouragement nonetheless. “Katelyn. What makes her so different?” Andrew meets his gaze dead-on as he turns Aaron’s own words back on him. “How can you trust her, after everything that bitch Tilda did to you?”

And finally, it all clicks into place.

Aaron forces himself to look his brother in the eyes. So much like his, yet at the same time so different. “Okay,” he concedes at last. “I see.”

Because, at last, he does.

#7 Allison

Neil appears at Allison’s door with a black eye, a bust lip, and the words “don’t freak out,” spilling from his mouth before she can get so much as a word in.

“Great start,” she says, pulling him in. “Who do I need to kill?”

“My shoelace came undone and I ate shit while I was on my run. I just need enough makeup that I can get through class without looking like I’ve been in a fight again. Do you know how many of my lecturers have taken me aside to give me the domestic abuse hotline?”

“You should know how to do this yourself by now.” Allison rolls her eyes as she leads Neil through to the table.

“You’re better at it,” he admits grudgingly, and oh, doesn’t that just warm her heart to hear.

“Nice try. You’re still taking me out for coffee after this.”

Neil pulls a face, and Allison laughs. It doesn’t take long – Allison has treated him in far, far worse shape, as much as she’d rather not think about it – and soon there’s only the faintest smudge around Neil’s eye.

“Can I tempt you to some mascara? Glitter?” Allison asks, waggling her eyebrows as she spreads the contents of her makeup bag out for his inspection.

“Maybe next time,” says Neil, “When I’m not going to a calculus lecture.”

“But that’s the best place for it.” Allison dabs the tip of his nose with her brush, and Neil’s face scrunches up as he tries to hold back a sneeze. His hair flops back down over his forehead as he moves, falling into his eyes.

“Don’t move just yet,” Allison says, yanking a drawer open and fumbling for the kitchen scissors. “I’ve been meaning to deal with that mop for weeks, and right now I have you trapped.”

“Oh, no,” Neil says flatly, but still he surrenders herself to her demands. Wise move.

“Perfect,” says Allison a few minutes later, ruffling Neil’s hair to shake away the last loose strands. “Ready for the red carpet now. I hope there aren’t any cute guys in your maths class, or Andrew is going to go mad with jealousy.”

Neil snorts. “He’s not really the type.”

“Mhmm,” says Allison, because in her experience, everyone is the type.

Speaking of the psychotic little devil himself, Andrew bursts through the door just as Allison is brushing up the last of the trimmings.

“Hey,” Neil says, apparently impervious to Andrew’s thunderous entrance. Andrew ignores the greeting, taking hold of Neil’s chin to turn his face from side to side.

“Kevin said you fell,” he says, relinquishing the grip. Allison half-turns away, pretending to busy herself tidying but really listening, because the monster’s overbearing-boyfriend performances are rarely seen in public yet endlessly entertaining.

“Shoelaces. Who could have seen it coming?”

“I did. And warned you. Twice.”

Neil winces. “My bad.”

Andrew mutters something under his breath that seems to involve the words kill you. The day Allison understands their relationship is the day that she gives up on any and all gossip for the rest of her life.

Then, Andrew pauses, distracted. “Did you trip and fall onto a pair of sheers?”

“Allison gave me a haircut. How does it look?”

Andrew holds his hand in front of Neil’s face. When Neil nods, Andrew runs it quickly through his hair, gently tugging at the roots as he goes. “Awful.”

“Hey,” Allison interrupts, outraged. They both start, and Andrew’s hand drops away, like they had forgotten she was there. Which was the point, really. She holds the scissors in Andrew’s direction. “You’re next, scraggy.”

“When I’m dead,” Andrew replies flatly. It’s clear he isn’t joking. Neil shakes his head at them both.

“Come on, then,” Allison says. “Neil’s taking me for coffee. Give us a ride and I’ll buy you the sugariest, most expensive drink on the menu. I’m hoping the diabetes will finish you off if lung cancer falls through.”

Andrew glances between them. “Fine.”

Sugar and Neil; the keys to Andrew’s stony little heart.

#8 Nicky

Nicky is fully capable of responding to his cousin’s newfound domestic happiness with maturity and decorum.

He just chooses not to.

This has nearly ended in violence no less than eight times. But really, how can he be expected to let it lie when his cousin, who came to him an unruly, violent teen to whom any conversation was like pulling teeth with plastic tweezers, is, for the first time, experiencing the gay teen college romance Nicky could only have dreamed of?

With his fiancée a million miles away, Nicky has to live vicariously when it comes to matters of the heart. There is no better subject for this than his violent baby cousin, who, it seems, isn’t such a baby anymore.

Nicky is beyond late for his class already when he realises that his laptop is dead. He had been skyping with Eric until ass-o-clock in the morning, forgot to plug it in before passing out in his bunk and is paying for it three-fold. He has two options; pencil and paper (what is he, a toddler?) or steal someone’s laptop. The answer is both clear and obvious.

Andrew’s is the first to hand. He most likely won’t surface until noon, by which time Nicky will have returned from class, leaving him none the wiser. The perfect crime.

Or it is the perfect crime until Nicky opens the laptop in the middle of his seminar to a webpage that is filled with very, very unsafe-for-classroom content.

Nicky slams the laptop shut. It wasn’t a video, none of the sites Nicky knew from his own fits of late-night loneliness. Large blocks of text, diagrams that were more analytical than downright pornographic. Nicky slides the laptop open again, just enough for the screen to light up once more, and tabs up. No, not porn. Informative. Educational.

The girl beside him, although unable to see his screen, is giving Nicky some very strange looks. Nicky glances back to the laptop before sliding it shut once more. Pencil and paper will have to do.

The class is drier than dirt, leaving Nicky’s mind with far too much space to think. A dangerous pastime in Nicky’s case, Eric would say teasingly. Nicky had assumed – well, not that he had thought about it, much, but Andrew always seemed so set and sure of himself that it was hard to imagine him googling how-to guides like an acne-riddled teen the night before prom. His apparent innocence is weirdly adorable. Not a word Nicky uses out-loud in his cousin’s presence, but true all the same.

Nicky remembers his first time. Awkward, uncomfortable, and involving entirely the wrong set of genitals. He can only hope Andrew and Neil’s is better.

He shouldn’t get involved. He really, really, shouldn’t.

Nicky slips the laptop back into place mere moments before Andrew slouches into the living space. Nicky watches him as the coffee-maker gurgles away, thinking.

“Andrew.”

Andrew glances up. Nicky isn’t sure what he reads in his face, but it must be setting off alarm bells, because his hands move almost unconsciously to his sleeves. Nicky holds his hands up.

“Hey!”

“What?”

“I just…” Oh, this is a lot more awkward than Nicky anticipated. “You know, I’m always here for you. If there’s anything you want to talk about.” He clears his throat. “If you have any questions…”

Andrew’s eyes narrow. They flick in the direction of his desk. Nicky remembers, far too late, Andrew’s impossibly perfect memory. He would remember the exact position he left his laptop in. Nicky is busted.

“Don’t borrow my laptop,” Andrew snarls. The coffee brewer clicks, and it may be the only thing that saves Nicky’s life.

“I’m sorry! I was in a rush!” Nicky says weekly. “If it’s any consolation, the guy who sits behind me now thinks I’m a grade-A pervert.”

Andrew slams a mug down on the counter so hard he almost cracks it. “One more word. One more.”

“I won’t. I won’t, I promise, I’ve been there, okay?”

Andrew takes his coffee and his laptop and leaves without another word. Nicky counts it as a blessing.

The next day, he’s working his way through the mother of all essays when Andrew enters the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Nicky keeps working until Andrew pulls a chair over to Nicky’s desk and sits in it. He stops typing mid-sentence, fingers hovering over the keys.

“Everything okay, Andrew?”

“I want you to take a moment and remember how many knives I have on me right now.”

“A lot, I assume.”

“A lot,” Andrew confirms. “If I had any other choice in the world, I would take it. But I have you. So, I’m going to ask you something, and you are going to be calm and level and mature and everything that you usually are not when you answer.”

“Of course,” Nicky says in a heartbeat. He can’t think of a single time Andrew has ever come to him for help, not even when he was wrapped up in bed and coughing his lungs out the day before his AP Calc exam. Nicky has never been more determined to get something right in his life.

“How,” Andrew says, stops, starts again. Today is full of firsts; Andrew is usually so careful and measured with his words. “How do I do it without hurting him?”

Nicky’s heart is ready to melt or break or explode, maybe all at once. “Oh, Andrew.”

“The knives, Nicky. Remember the knives.”

“Okay,” says Nicky, and he tells Andrew everything he can. He wants, more than anything, for Andrew to be safe and happy, and if it involves going into details that even Nicky is squeamish about discussing with family, then that’s what he’ll do.

He offers to write out a list of reliable books and websites for Andrew to check out, ones he used himself and others Eric recommended to him. Andrew shakes his head.

“Just tell me. I’ll remember them.”

When they’re done, Nicky almost claps Andrew on the shoulder. He thinks better of it, hand hovering mid-air before he withdraws it. “Andrew.”

Andrew is half-way out the door, but he stops, which is more than Nicky expected.

“You’ll be fine.”

Andrew huffs, and abruptly disappears. Nicky smiles to himself as he turns back to his essay.

It took him a long time to piece it all together, but the truth is that Andrew really can be quite sweet, in his own terrifying way.

Nicky wonders how long it will be before he has to give Neil the sex talk too. Maybe he should offer.

Best not to; he has some self-preservation instincts, after all.

#9 Renee

Renne likes to think that she has improved at reading Andrew over the years. Some of his quirks are more obvious than others, however; it doesn’t take a student of human character to notice that when Andrew wants to spar, it’s usually because he has something on his mind.

Renee is hardly in a position to judge, not when she finds the cut and blow of a vicious fistfight as cathartic as he does. There’s still a piece of Natalie Shields underneath all of Renee’s growth like the pit at the heart of a peach. Sometimes the best way of holding her down is by letting her out in controlled increments. Give her the inch so she won’t take the mile.

As usual, it is only when they have beaten each other to exhaustion and back that Andrew is ready to talk. They sit cross-legged in the centre of the room, slurping down apple-juice cartons like kids in the playground, and finally, Andrew speaks.

“I want you to train Neil.”

Renee sets her carton down. “I thought Matt was teaching him to box.”

“He’s a shit boxer.”

“Neil or Matt?”

“Both.”

Renee shakes her head. She reaches back to pull out her hair tie, letting her bangs tumble back into their usual place. “Is there a reason Neil hasn’t asked me himself?”

Andrew is silent. There it is; the heart of the matter.

Renee sighs. “I’m not going to force Neil to train with me if he doesn’t want to.”

“I don’t force Neil to do anything,” Andrew says sharply. Renee winces; it was a poor choice of words on her part.

“Why do you think he needs it?”

“Matt is teaching him how to box. It’s not the same as real fighting.”

Renee hums. “Can’t he do something for fun?”

“That’s not the point. Besides,” Andrew pauses. “Matt only knows how to fight like the fuck-off giant that he is.”

Renee can’t argue with that; Matt never had to learn the same style of combat that she and Andrew did. He may teach Neil how to throw a good punch, but there’s a big difference in stance and strategy when your opponent is a foot taller than you. Renee and Andrew learned that the hard way.

“And who is it that you think Neil is going to be fighting?”

Andrew waves one arm in an all-encompassing gesture. “Have you met him?”

“Andrew.”

“Renee,” he shoots back, imitating her tone and inflection.

“What did he say when you suggested that I teach him?”

Andrew scrunches up his features in an imitation of Neil’s ugh face. “He said that he gets enough bruises as it is.”

“He’s not wrong.”

Andrew doesn’t roll his eyes, but his eyebrows twitch as though he’s considering it. “He also said he doesn’t need to get any better. Because he…” Andrew grimaces. Sharing is still tough for him, even after years of therapy and trust. “He has me to protect him.”

“As I said,” Renee says, smiling. “He’s not wrong.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“He has his moments.”

They finish their juice boxes in silence.

“Well,” says Renee, getting back to her feet. Her legs may be going stiff, but there’s still some fight left in her. There always is. “I may not be able to train Neil, but at least I can train his bodyguard to the best of my ability.” She holds her hand out to Andrew. After a moment of careful consideration, he takes it, using the pull to swing himself to his feet. “One more round?”

Andrew nods, determination setting in his eyes like concrete. “One more round.”

Renee likes to think that she has improved at reading Andrew over the years. This time, as they trade hits and kicks, it isn’t anger or frustration powering Andrew’s movements; it’s something far more powerful.

She thinks – hopes – prays – that the worst of Neil’s fights are behind them. All the same, she sleeps a little easier knowing that, should the day come, Andrew will be at his back with a knife in each hand.

That’s love, after all.

Thank you for reading - please let me know what you thought

Still open to requests!

#aftg #andreil #tfc #neil josten #andrew minyard #my fic #asks #anon

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flutteringphalanges · 4 years ago

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Caught in a Riptide

Summary: After the infamous Count Dracula is discovered and taken into custody by the Jonathan Harker Foundation, former nun and now guardian to her young niece, Zoe, Agatha Van Helsing is tasked with keeping tabs on the vampire after a mishap leads to his release into modern day society. Can Agatha remain levelheaded, or will fate turn her onto a new path?

Pairing: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Rated: M

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: I’m back!! Finally, after dealing with some health issues I managed to get a chapter out! I hope you enjoy! Feedback/Reblogs/Likes are greatly loved and appreciated! -Jen

Chapter Seven

It's funny how just a few seconds can seem like an entire lifetime. At least, in Agatha's case, that's how she felt. Her eyes flickered between the two men, mind reeling as she tried to come to some set conclusion as to why both were present. Or if she should go into the defensive or offensive mode-not that she had much of a weapon on her besides her silly, cheap cross. It took Dracula calmly clearing his throat to snap her back into her senses.

"You look rather alarmed, Agatha." Dracula stated with a smile. "Like you've seen a ghost-or," his smile widened to a grin. "Are witnessing someone committing the act of murder."

She watched with bated breath as he moved to the table. From where she stood, Agatha could just make out a small, square object that rested on the surface. The vampire picked it up and examined it carefully before pulling out a few crisp dollar bills. A wallet. He looked from the still stunned woman to his other guest.

"Jimmy was just here dropping off my meal. Weren't you, Jimmy?" The vampire held out the money towards the young man. "I invited him in seeing as I didn't have the cash on me. I didn't want to be rude." Dracula let out a long exhale. "Keep the change. I know your profession doesn't pay you fairly. It is the least I can do," he paused. "All things considered." And once again that familiar flicker of mischievousness glimmered in his eyes. "If you'd leave now, I'd much appreciate it. I've kept Ms. Van Helsing waiting long enough."

The man-or "Jimmy" as he was so called, managed to stutter out a thank you. He gave Agatha a nod before pushing past her to escape out the door. Whether he knew of Dracula's true origin was unclear, but it was evident enough the vampire gave him some form of uneasy. Though it held no weight, the cross felt oddly heavy in her back pocket as the man motioned for her to step forward.

"I assure you I am very well aware of the terms and conditions involving my freedom." He commented, pulling out a chair for her to sit in. "And while I do have my urges, the idea of not being locked in a cage and used for experimental purposes quells those...desires."

Reluctantly, Agatha took a seat ignoring the Count's smile. She knew he was watching her, observing her every move externally and perhaps even internally. The woman knew she needed to keep her heartbeat steady, pulse regular. Any sign that could be regarded as fear would only play to his amusement. Keeping her guard down, especially now, was the utmost of importance.

"If you don't mind, I'm going to pour myself a drink." Dracula said, grabbing the paper bag and pulling out its contents. A wine bottle shaped flask filled with a dark liquid. Agatha knew what it was, but she didn't like to think about it. After filling his cup, he set it down.

"So," he continued. "Can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine." Agatha said currently, trying to keep her voice level. "I'm not thirsty."

"I thought you'd say that." The vampire exhaled, shaking his head. "But I thought I'd ask to be polite." He took a small sip, the contents lightly sloshing as he did. "I want to apologize about the night before. I acted like…"

"A monster?" The former nun said curtly with a frown. "A mad man?"

Dracule smirked, chuckling at her remarks. "I was going to say rash, but I suppose those would fall under the same category." He left her side once again to retrieve what appeared to be a file folder resting neatly on the table. "Anyway, I'd like to move past it. Put it behind us. Even beasts make mistakes."

"You could've killed me," Agatha replied, eyes following his every move. "Why didn't you?"

"You're right," the Count nodded. "I very well could've. Even with that ridiculously cheap excuse of a cross you have in your pocket." Her eyebrows raised in surprise as he continued. "But having you dead would've served no use to me. I'm a calculated man, Agatha. While your blood is very, very tempting, getting it from a slip up like that would be...undesirable." The Count smiled as he finally took a seat across from her. "And again, we have that contract to think about."

Before she could comment, the vampire slid the collection of papers over to her. Meeting his stare, Agatha hesitantly took the folder and opened it. Though she didn't exactly want to break eye contact, the woman glanced down at the sheets below. Photos. A birth certificate. License. An entire history made up of a made up person-sort of. His new background. A perfect gateway into modern society that was virtually untraceable to who he really was. Renfield had done well.

"Vlad Balaur," she mumbled.

"Dracula seemed to be a stretch unfortunately, so this was the second choice." The Count replied simply. "Do you like it?"

"26 May 1967." Agatha continued, ignoring his question. After a moment, she looked up. "You're lucky you can pull off looking 53 and not 530." Exhaling, Agatha pushed the pile back over to the man. "Your lawyer did well. I certainly hope you are paying him for all of this work."

Dracula merely chuckled as he took the thick folder. "I'm not an unreasonable man. I pay Frank accordingly. Based, of course, on the service he provides." He lifted his glass of blood, the rim stained with dark crimson from where he sipped. "I can have copies for you made, if you so desire. I know how important it is for your precious Foundation to know about my whereabouts." For a brief moment, his dark eyes flickered playfully. "For you to know."

The woman's stomach churned as the vampire took a large swig of his drink. Why did he have to feed in front of her? Probably because he knew it made her squirm. When he set the cup down, he smiled widely, teeth seeming sharper than a moment before. She prayed it was merely a trick of her imagination.

"What are your plans now that you are free to roam around England on your own accord?" Agatha inquired, straightening in her chair. "Surely you must have something in mind?"

"Believe it or not, after being asleep for over a hundred years, there is quite a lot to take in." Dracula nudged his now empty glass aside. "So many advances in technology. Science. History. I've done quite a lot of reading myself, but the modern world is very enriched. However," he held up his index finger. "It's quite hard when you're only limited to the night hours. My body doesn't exactly fair well in the sun. Call it an extreme allergy if you will."

"As I am very well aware," Agatha huffed. "But that doesn't exactly answer my question. What are your plans, Count Dracula?"

"I think you mean our plans," the vampire smirked. The look on the woman's face said it all and his smile only widened. "You honestly didn't think our interactions would just be the two of us discussing our adventures over tea did you?" His fingers laced together, tips ending in sharp, talon line nails. "You, Agatha Van Helsing, are going to be my escort. And what an honor, I might add, that is."

Agatha's jaw dropped. "Your...your what?!"

"Escort, tour guide, chaperone...whatever you wish to call it." He dismissively waved his hand. "In other words, you and I will be spending a lot of nights together under the starry skies of England. Or cloudy? I have reason to believe it rains a lot, or am I mistaken?"

"The only thing you're mistaken of is the preposterous idea of me ever agreeing to this!" The woman snapped. "My understanding was that we would meet face to face occasionally at your flat! Not that I'd spend quality time with you out and about!"

"Well if that's the case, it would seem that our two overseers have decided our fates without consulting us." Dracula smirked as he met Agatha's cold stare. "Both Mr. Renfield and Dr. Bloxham have come to the conclusion that this seems like a fair and fit decision and who am I to argue?"

She'd committed. Told Bloxham she'd do whatever the scientist wanted. But this...this wasn't what she had in mind. Agatha silently cursed at herself, mentally berated her brain for being so stupid. Of course these interactions wouldn't be just mere meetings. No...no the Harker Foundation wanted more than that. Immersing herself was one thing. This was the equivalent of being tied to a stone and thrown into a river like a woman during a witch trial. Count Dracula was to be a part of her life no matter how hard she kicked and screamed to swim back to the surface.

""I will completely and utterly immerse myself into Count Dracula's life…"

Agatha's own words replayed in her mind like a broken record as she sat there grinding her teeth. She could feel the vampire watching her expectantly, waiting to hear what she had to say. He seemed cool. Collected. Of all people, shouldn't he be against the idea of being watched like a hawk? But there he sat seemingly without a care in the world. Secretly, she was sure, reveling in her misfortune.

"I'd say you're rather exhausted, Agatha." Dracula exclaimed, breaking the silence. "Perhaps you should go home and rest. I'd offer up my flat, but I think that little Zoe would worry."

"Don't say her name," the woman muttered. "You don't get to say her name."

The vampire gave a half smile. "Get some rest, Ms. Van Helsing. I have quite the itinerary planned for tomorrow." His movements almost gave off the impression of gliding as he corked the bottle of blood he'd been consuming and strode over to the refrigerator. "Shall I walk you to your car or-"

But Agatha had already snatched up her keys and stormed towards the door before he could finish. Dracula snorted softly, shaking his head. She was certainly turning out to be much more interesting than he had initially suspected. Perhaps whatever the Foundation had planned for him would be more in his favor than they'd ever begin to realize. Games were always more enticing when both sides were competitive. And Agatha Van Helsing was the perfect prize.

XXX

Agatha didn't even acknowledge the box of biscuits that fell onto the floor as Jack jumped in surprise as she swung the front door wide open. Flinging her semi closed purse onto the counter, she stormed over to the couch and collapsed. She was tired, but not exhausted enough to feel furious.

"How did it go?" There was hesitation in Jack's voice as he asked. A sense of fear that one gets when staring at a poisonous viper head on. "Did he have anything important to say?"

"Did Zoe behave for you?" Agatha replied in a monotone, eyes fixed on the television screen. Some adult cartoon was on that she vaguely recognized but didn't care enough to remember the name. "I hope she didn't give you a hard time."

"She caused absolutely no issues," the doctor assured her. "It was like she wasn't even there. Well," he paused. "I did read her two bedtime stories-her request, but other than that, she went to bed without a fuss. She did want to hang out though so maybe the three of us could go out to do something together sometime to distract your mind from…"

"They have me babysitting him!" The woman declared sharply, finally turning to face her friend. "He's talking like we're going on some date tomorrow. Bloxham has me taking him around wherever he wants to go as it is a part of this bloody contract I didn't read the fine print of!" Agatha groaned, massaging her temples. "When I started...I didn't think…Honestly, I don't know what I thought."

She chewed absentmindedly on her bottom lip as Jack sat beside her. He stared at her with those big blue eyes of his. It was a familiar look. Innocent. Sheltered. The young man had witnessed much in his short life and yet there was an aura of goodness to him. Loyalty. Something Agatha personality believed she didn't deserve. A friend whose companionship she'd never be able to match.

"I don't think any of us knew what to expect when we found him." Jack commented, resting a hand on her knee. "Especially you given your family's...history." He paused only to reach the clicker to turn off the show. "If I'm to be honest, Agatha, at first, I didn't actually think he existed. Maybe some part of me did-I worked at the bloody Harker Foundation. But when he actually showed up...I guess what I'm trying to say is Bloxham has no right to do what she's doing."

"Right or not, I don't exactly have a choice in the matter," Agatha frowned. "When I wanted to study him, learn about who he was and what he was, I didn't exactly think that meant I was going to be forced to spend every waking minute with him-well, every his waking minute. But I have to do this for my sake and Zoe's."

Jack cocked a brow in confusion. "What does this have to do with Zoe?"

"I made a commitment." She admitted, running a hand through her hair. "...Moreso Bloxham has me backed into a corner. If I don't go through with this, then she can make my life a living Hell." Agatha held up her hand as the man tried to interject. "If I could get out of this, I already would've, but I don't have a choice, Jack. It'll be like that movie Interview with a Vampire, but instead of an eager biographer wanting to learn Louis de Pointe du Lac's story, I'm forced to take my vampire on a railway trip."

Jack started to chuckle into his hand earning him a curious look from Agatha. A small smile graced his features as he straightened up, clearing his throat before speaking.

"Sorry," he grinned. "Didn't take you for a movie buff."

"I suppose I can sometimes be unpredictable." Agatha admitted with a small smile. "Anyway, the fact of the matter is, I wanted to learn about Dracula on my terms, not someone else's. Especially since he's a bigger prick than I imagined."

"He murdered people," the man stated. "How big of an ass were you expecting?!"

"Someone whose ego wasn't so large it'd overtake all of Europe and then some." She said folding her arms over her chest. "He's unbearable, Jack, and he knows it. Relishes in it. And I'm stuck with him like gum on the bottom of a shoe." Agatha let out a long exhale. "Curiosity killed the cat, and I already feel like I'm on my eighth life. Why of all things did I have to be a Van Helsing? Smith is a nice last name. Or Wilson. I'd go as far as Bigglesworth."

"You are not a Bigglesworth," Jack laughed. "Besides, Van Helsing is pretty bad ass. It has its perks."

Agatha let out a soft chuckled before her mouth curved into a genuine smile. Gently she rested her head on Jack's shoulder, her eyes fixed on the blank screen of the television.

"What am I going to do, Jack?" She mumbled.

"What you always do," he replied softly. "Take what's thrown at you into your own hands and make it work. At least, that's what the Agatha I know would do."

"I'm taking the window seat," Agatha yawned, closing her eyes.

"The window seat?" The doctor inquired, his brows knitting in confusion. "What window seat?"

"The window seat," she repeated. "If I'm taking that beast on a train, I'm taking the window seat."

Jack grinned over at the former nun as she began to nod off. "Agatha Van Helsing, you never cease to amaze me."

"Good," she answered. "I plan to keep it that way."

And without another word, she drifted off into the dark world of unconsciousness. Far, far away from her worries and troubles that would live to see another day.

#Dracula #Dracula 2020 #Dragatha #Agatha Van Helsing #Dracula x Agatha #Caught in a Riptide

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