#when he stormed out of the broadcasting room I felt that

[serafilms]

(tbosas movie spoilers!!!) i think the worst part of tbosas for me was that coriolanus was right??? all those offhanded little comments he made 'on a whim' to try and 'help the tributes' and in turn save himself were right and it's horrifying to realise that he didn't need to try to think of them and try to be like his father bc he already was. from an audience perspective, i sat through the whole arena part of the movie disgusted by everything happening in it and begging for it to be over (it didn't really get better after all that but oh well). the deaths were more gruesome, the arena more terrifying and everything felt too real (i also watched it in imax idk if that helped). not that the deaths in thg and catching fire games weren't horrific, but in an offhanded movie fan way, i used to look forward to the arena. because it became exactly what dr gaul wanted it to be and what coriolanus realised it was and what lucy gray made it: a performance. in the 65 years after, they made the arenas interesting and real and natural and beautiful, with weapons and mutts and gifts and places to hide and places for open bloodshed, they interfered with the games to help and then kill their tributes (sound familiar? yeah thanks a lot coriolanus u bitch) and it was literally the most harrowing thing to sit there and watch the movie as i realised that it was entertaining to me to watch the first two movies because of that. we are no better than the citizens of the capitol and i just think that sucks.

[voxslays]

FULL MOON

Featuring >>> Alastor x Reader; In which, Alastor is hiding his seasonal rut cycle from everyone in the hotel, including you. Unfortunately, it isn’t very long until you find out what he’s been hiding…

WARNINGS: Smut, AFAB Reader, Dub-Con??, Seasonal rut

It was late October, the time when sinners went into their seasonal ruts. For many years, Alastor had been able to pretend he was completely immune to the effects of the fall heat he felt. Being able to hide out until late November when his rut disappeared. Until this year, when you had arrived. You were a fellow deer demon, a doe to be exact. You were innocent, naive, and most of all, kind.

You knew of Alastor’s title, one he had earned from taking down and broadcasting the screams of countless overlords and other high-ranking sinners, becoming an overlord in record time. Yet, you never feared him. Alastor was curious about you, trying to truly get to know you. Not for your soul, but for you as a person. You intrigued him, entertained him. That was one of the reasons why his rut was extremely unbearable this year. He had no choice but to lock himself away from you and the other residents of the hotel—only coming out for meals—until his rut was over.

Alastor paced in his private quarters, his movements agitated and uncharacteristically erratic. The scent of your presence lingered in the halls, a sweet torment that set his nerves ablaze. He gripped the balcony railing, his claws digging into the marble as he fought to maintain control. ​​Not only did he feel the pain of his unbearable rut, but the major migraines from his shedding antlers. His antlers felt ready to drop at any moment, but not soon enough to ease his suffering.         

Alastor let out a deep groan of pain, his body wracked with tremors. He was losing control. He let out a roar of frustration, shattering several nearby floral vases. Just as Alastor is about to step into his bayou, he hears a knock on his door. Followed by a muffled voice calling his name. He quickly walks out of the miniature pocket-dimension, growing frustrated with whoever dares to interrupt his alone-time.

Alastor stormed to the door, his eyes flashing dangerously. He flung the door open, prepared to berate whoever had dared to disturb him. His words caught in his throat as he saw you standing there, your expression concerned. “Are you okay!?” You ask worriedly, pressing your hand to his burning forehead. “Do you have a fever?” Alastor's initial anger melted away, replaced by a hint of relief at your presence. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he savored the warmth of your hand. "I'm fine," he lied, his voice rough and hoarse from his recent roar. "Just a headache.” He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The scent of your concern was intoxicating, making his heart race. "I appreciate your worry, but I can handle it. It's just...a difficult time of year for me." He carefully states.

“Do you need anything? I’d be happy to help.” You give him a thoughtful smile. Alastor's resolve wavered at your kind offer. He wanted to accept, to lean on you, but he knew the risk. "You're too kind," he said softly, his hand coming up to cover yours on his forehead. "But I wouldn't want to burden you with my..." He trails off, his smile only slightly faltering. He paused, torn between his desire for you and his need to protect you from his rut. "...problems." He finished lamely, dropping his hand and stepping back. "I'll be fine. Just need some rest." He says, as sweat pours down his forehead, the room seemingly getting hotter and hotter. “Just come to me if you need anything. I hope you feel better soon!” You say, waving as you walk down the hall. Alastor watches you go, his fists clenching at his sides. He wanted nothing more than to call you back, to lose himself in your comforting presence. But he knew he couldn't, not like this.

The last time Alastor had come out of his room was Sunday. It was now a Wednesday. You and the other hotel residents—mainly Charlie and Husk (for two very different reasons)—were becoming concerned. Charlie tried to convince Vaggie and you that Alastor was fine, and he probably just needed a little space—while Husk was positive Alastor was planning something. It didn’t really matter to you. You just wanted to know Alastor was okay. When Thursday rolled around, you decided enough was enough. You marched up to his room and gently knocked on the door, not sure if you would even get an answer. The knock echoed through the silent room. Alastor was sprawled on his bed, drenched in sweat and shivering. He groaned and dragged himself up, staggering to the door. He flung it open, expecting to see Charlie or Husk.

Alastor’s eyes widen when he sees you standing in the dimly lit hallway. “Where have you been!?” You ask, with a tone of concern. ​​“Wait a moment.” You say, thinking to yourself. Alastor watched you warily, his body trembling as another wave of need crashed over him. “You’re in your rut aren’t you?” You ask. You had remembered hearing somewhere that some demons could have seasonal ruts depending on their species and sins in life. From what Alastor had previously told you, it would only make sense he had entered his seasonal cycle.

Alastor's face contorted in a mix of embarrassment, frustration, and pain. "Yes," he hissed, clenching his fists at his sides. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd leave. I can't control myself right now." He slightly trembles. “Wait-! Let me help you.” Alastor's eyes widened, and he took a step back, shaking his head vehemently. "No. Absolutely not. You can't." He trailed off, his breathing growing heavier as another surge of desire washed over him. "Please.” Your eyes meet, and you look into his crimson red pupils, now even redder with pain. “I don’t want you to suffer. Please, just let me help you.” You practically beg. Alastor's resolve wavers as he meets your gaze. The concern and care in your eyes nearly undo him. He takes a shuddering breath. "You don't know what you're offering," he warns, his voice rough with strain. "Once I start, I won't be able to stop."

“I don't care.” Something in Alastor snaps at your words. With a growl, he reaches out and gently pulls you into the room, slamming the door shut. He pins you against it, his body flush against yours. "Last chance to run," ​​You don’t dare move, too lost in his gaze. Alastor's eyes burn with an intense hunger as he looks at you. Without another word, he claims your mouth in a brutal, possessive kiss. His hands roam over your body, seeking relief from the torment. "Fuck," Alastor curses against your lips, his voice shaking with need. You gently cup his antlers, rubbing tender circles around them, relieving pain.

A low groan escapes him as you touch his antlers. He grinds himself against you, seeking friction. "More." Alastor pants out. His fingers nimbly unzipping the back of your dress, pushing it off your shoulders, and slowly sliding it off, watching it pool at your feet. His gaze drinks in the sight of you bare before him. His touch becomes gentler, reverent, as he explores every curve and line of your body. He leans down, pressing kisses along your collarbone, his hands sliding up your thighs and wrapping around to squeeze your backside. "So beautiful," His mouth travels lower, tracing the swell of your breast, his tongue flicking out to taste you. His body shudders as another wave of heat washes over him. He lifts you up in his arms, carrying you to his bed. He laid down, positioning you astride his hips. 

He guides your hips, helping you take him inside. A low moan rumbles in his chest at the exquisite feeling of you enveloping him. His hands grip your thighs as he starts to move, setting a deep, powerful rhythm. "That's it," He praises breathlessly ​​as you let out little whimpers and whines. The sound of your whimpers spurs him on, his pace quickening. He reaches between you, his calloused fingers finding the bundle of nerves at your core and stroking it rhythmically. You cry out, your nails digging into his back. Alastor's expression contorts with pleasure and pain. He lets out a guttural growl, his hips jerking up sharply. He wraps his arms around you, flipping you onto your stomach without breaking your union. 

His movements become feverish, his breath coming in short pants. You scream in pleasure, your face being gently pressed down into the pillow. His thrusts become brutal, his balls slapping against your clit with each stroke. The force of his movements causes the headboard to bang against the wall. He reaches under you, his fingers finding your mouth, shoving them inside. He leans down, his chest pressed against your back as he pistons into you. His hips stutter as he reaches his peak, a deep groan torn from his throat as he spilled deep inside you. He bites down into your shoulder, his teeth breaking your skin.

You whimper, gripping the sheets beneath you with all your strength. As he comes down from his high, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, pressing them against your lips to silence any cries. He lays his head against your back, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Shh, my love," He whispers, his voice dripping with satisfaction. You gently roll over, gently gripping his shoulders as you let out quick, shallow breaths. Alastor's gaze drops to where your bodies are still joined. He lets out a pleased rumble as he feels you tighten around him once more. He grins at you, his sharp, yellow teeth glistening with your blood.

You wipe the sweat off your forehead. He chuckles, nipping gently at your chin. "Mmm, you look delicious like that, my dear. All sweaty and disheveled.” You let out a quick breathy pant. “I am exhausted.” Your body is still slightly trembling. He grins wider, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Good. That means I did my job right.” He flexes his hips, his body stirring once more. “And only seventy hours to go.” Only seventy…What!?

[fxrmuladaydreams]

i’m sorry i love you (ln4 + op81)

poly!landoscar x reader

summary: after being placed last in qualifying, oscar and his girlfriend comfort lando, but what happens when it’s revealed lando feels more deeply about the two of you than a friend should?

notes: !!CONTAINS SMUT MINORS DNI!! omg guys it’s my first ever poly!landoscar full length story

warnings: panic attack, threesome, p in v, oral (male receiving), sub!lando, dom!oscar, sub!reader

Lando practically throws his helmet into the arms of someone from his pit crew. He storms off, uncaring of any cameras that may be around to broadcast his tantrum.

He’d just finished qualifying, finished on pole position. He was going to start at the top of the grid, when the news had spread. The FIA had done checks on some of the cars, and his was against the rules. It was stupid, something that wasn’t in his control at all, yet he still had to find out in a public setting, just after he felt on top of the world.

Oscar’s car wasn’t pulled for the check, so he was still able to drive in his qualifying position tomorrow. He felt his frustration grow worse and worse the more he thought about it. This was just another chance for Oscar to show him up, to show everyone just how much better he was than Lando in his rookie year.

And yet, Lando couldn’t be mad at Oscar. He wanted nothing more than to hate the Aussie just a little, to feel some type of anger for him, but he couldn’t. Oscar was a good guy, he was nice, he was funny, he was great to be around when he finally opened up.

He was fine with this sudden fondness growing inside him for his teammate, he felt the same way about Carlos when they were teammates. Then he met you.

You were the adoring girlfriend to Oscar Piastri. Perfectly sweet, and equally beautiful. You had been nothing but nice to Lando. And there was his problem.

You and Oscar were perfect for each other. You brought him out of his shell, gave him more confidence. And he made sure to always keep a smile of your face. That was why he refused to do anything about the feelings that slowly grew in his chest for the both of you.

Lando knew that tomorrow would be hell for him. That he’d have to see Oscar do well, likely earning another podium finish, then see him scoop you up in his arms and show the whole world how much he loved you. All while Lando would have to attempt to climb back to the top of the grid just to get in the points.

He avoided anyone he could on the way back to the hotel, steering clear of reporters and McLaren workers. He drove his car back to the hotel, and strode through the lobby to the elevator with his hood pulled up over his head and dark sunglasses over his eyes.

He was able to shower, to try to scrape the shame from the day off himself before the knocking started. He figured he could just ignore it. Whoever was on the other side of the door would just assume no one was there and they’d leave. But whoever was on the other side of the door was persistent.

“Lando! We know you’re here!” The Australian accent called through the door.

Lando sighed, pulling himself up off his bed then dragged himself to the door to swing it open.

There you stood with Oscar next to you. Oscar was still in his McLaren team kit, and you were still in the same McLaren shirt you’d worn to the paddock. Neither of you had made it to your hotel room yet, too concerned with Lando’s disappearance.

“I’m not really in the mood guys-” He starts, but stops when you walk past him, entering his room.

“That was fucked. Telling you in front of all those cameras like that? What the hell?” You sit down on the bed.

Oscar gives Lando a sympathetic smile then follows you inside.

Lando was surprised by your colorful language and the anger you seemed to have for the FIA. He shrugs sitting down next to you.

“There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Mate, if they had checked my car I’m sure we’d be in the same position.” Oscar says as he sits down at the desk across from the two of you.

“But they didn’t check your car. They checked mine. So now I’m P20, while you get to start on pole.” Lando snaps. He can feel you shrink at his sudden outburst. He sighs. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault.”

His head falls to his hands as he takes a few deep breaths trying to regain his composure. He can feel your hand softly stroking up and down his back.

“You two don’t need to stay. You can go celebrate Oscar’s pole.” He says once he lifts his head back up.

His eyes are red, almost bloodshot, welling up with tears he’s refusing to let fall.

You wrap an arm through his and lace your hand with his. “We’re not leaving you alone right now Lan. We care too much about you.”

Lando groans. He stands up pulling himself away from you and takes a few steps away. He wants to put some distance between the three of you. He wants to make sure that he doesn’t let himself fall for the both of you even more than he already has.

“You can’t say shit like that.” His words are quiet.

“But it’s true.” You say standing up.

“Lando-” Oscar starts, standing up.

“Stop! Stop! You both need to stop!” Lando holds his hands out in front of him, backing away from the two of you. “I can’t-I can’t do this.” He whimpers leaning against the wall. He can feel the tear falling down his cheeks now. He quickly tries to wipe them away from his eyes.

He can feel his breathing start to pick up as his heart starts pounding in his chest. Everything is too much, too overwhelming. The qualifying results along with your insistence on comforting him has made him feel like he’s choking on nothing.

Oscar immediately clocks the panic coursing through his teammate. He slowly reaches out and pulls Lando back down to the bed. You stand up, giving him space as Oscar grabs a bottle of water from Lando’s fridge, uncapping it and handing it to him.

Lando slowly sips on the water, taking a few minutes to calm down. He closes the cap and places the bottle on the table next to the bed. When he finally looks back up at you and Oscar his eyes are filled with shame.

“I’m sorry…” He murmurs.

You sit down next to him again and wrap an arm over his shoulders. “You have nothing to apologize for Lan.” You tell him softly. “It’s okay.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry I’m like this. I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

“Mate, it’s fine, it’s okay.” Oscar says as he sits down on the other side of Lando.

Your arm slips from Lando’s shoulders as Oscar’s wraps around him, pulling his head to lean against his shoulder.

Lando finds comfort being sandwiched between the two of you. With Oscar’s arm around him and your hand now softly playing with his fingers he feels like he can finally breathe again.

“I’m sorry you guys have to help me with this, that I need you here with me…” Lando says, his voice slightly muffled in Oscar’s shoulder.

“What do you mean?” Oscar asks, looking down at him.

You hear Lando take a deep breath, lifting his head from Oscar’s shoulder, then looking back and forth between the two of you. He sits up and moves away from Oscar, pulling his hand away from yours as well.

“I’m sorry I feel the way I feel… I’m sorry I’m in love with you.” His last sentence comes out in a breath. He stands up from the bed again, trying to put some space between you. “Both of you. I’m really sorry. And I don’t want things to get awkward now, because you’re my teammate,” he gestures to Oscar “and you’re my teammate’s girlfriend,” then he gestures to you “so it’s impossible to avoid either of you after this.”

You sit on the bed silently, watching as Lando paces back and forth now, rambling about how nothing has to change, and he’ll be able to move on with time.

“We don’t want you to move on.” Oscar cuts him off.

Lando stops mid sentence. “What?” The sleeves on his hoodie fall past his hands as his fingers fidget. “What do you mean?”

“Lando,” you stand up, slowly walking towards him “we both have feelings for you too.”

“You do?”

Oscar nods. “It was weird at first, both of us admitting that we liked you to each other, but we felt like it was something we could work through. We didn’t want you to find out and get freaked about it.”

“Oh.” Lando still doesn’t look convinced as he shifts his weight on his feet.

You take a few slow steps until you’re standing in front of him, tilting his chin up so his eyes meet yours. “Can I kiss you Lando?”

He nods his head and breathes out an answer. “Yeah.”

You raise a hand to cup his face, tracing your thumb over his cheekbone. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed.

He’s almost surprised to feel your lips against his, like this was all some dream he’d made up in his head. You feel just the way he imagined, soft touches and slow intimate movements.

The hands that hold his waist do surprise him. He can tell they’re Oscar’s, the size alone makes it obvious, but he can feel them holding onto him firmly.

Oscar stands behind Lando, trailing kisses up and down the side of his neck.

Lando feels his heart pick up again, but this time for an entirely different reason. What once filled him with anxiety now sends a thrill through him. He’s excited to be with you, both of you.

He’s getting far too hot pressed between the two of you, pulling his lips away from yours to take a much needed breath.

“Should we move over to the bed? To get a little more comfortable?” Oscar asks as he softly sinks his teeth into Lando’s neck.

You pull Lando to the bed by his arm, and push him so he’s sitting down on the edge of it. Oscar sits down on his knees behind Lando, running a hand through his curls. You crawl onto Lando’s lap, straddling him as you tug at the bottom of his hoodie.

“Can I take this off?” You ask.

He’s quick to nod his head in response. You tug the hoodie up over his head and throw it to the side. His bare torso is revealed, the tanned skin on display. You reach out and run your hands down his chest, over the lines of his abs. He sighs, and leans his head back against Oscar’s shoulder.

“He’s so pretty Osc.” You say as you admire the boy under you.

“He is.” Oscar nods.

Lando blushes under your gaze, turning his head to look at Oscar. Oscar looks down at him with a smug smile on his face. He knew the affect he had on the British driver fairly early into their partnership, but finally getting to act on these pent up feelings was something new and exciting.

Oscar leans down to press a teasing kiss to corner of Lando’s mouth, smirking as Lando practically chases his lips as he pulls away.

“I think Y/n wants your attention.” Oscar nods to you.

When Lando turns back to look at you he can see that you’ve removed your McLaren shirt and bra and start to softly tug at the waistband of his sweatpants.

His hands reach out to hold your hips, pulling you closer to him as his lips attach themselves to your collarbone. His teeth leave little indents in your skin, red patches appear alongside other older marks left behind by Oscar.

You roll your hips against Lando’s as your head falls back from the pleasure. Lando whines against your chest, lifting his hips slightly to meet yours.

Oscar palms himself through his jeans as he watches you and Lando. It’s clear the two of you are starting to lose control, and he’s more than happy to take the reins.

“Is Lando making you feel good?” He asks you.

“Yes, so good.” You whimper.

“Then maybe you should make him feel good too.” He says.

You slide off of Lando’s lap, pulling his sweatpants down to his ankles. You tug your pants and underwear down and toss them to a corner of the room.

You knew that Lando was attractive, anyone with eyes would be able to see that, but you didn’t think that his cock could be just as pretty.

It’s not as long as Oscar’s, but it’s thicker, the girth alone makes a wave of arousal travel down your core. You wrap your hand around it, and softly stroke it up and down.

Lando lets out a soft groan, letting his eyes flutter closed. You climb back onto Lando’s lap, continuing to stroke him slowly as Oscar tilts Lando’s head back to him. He leans down and kisses the Brit, smirking into the kiss as Lando moans against his lips. Oscar’s hair hangs down as he kisses Lando, slightly blocking their eyes, brushing against Lando’s face.

You grind yourself against Lando’s thighs, desperate for more attention as you watch the two boys kiss.

“Can I ride you Lan?” You ask as your hand slows down against him.

Oscar pulls himself away from Lando and nods in your direction.

“Do you want her to ride you?”

“Please.” Lando whimpers.

His whines quickly turn into moans as you slowly sink yourself down on him.

He feels different than Oscar, his thick cock stretches you wider than Oscar’s has as you struggle to take all of him.

Lando struggles to hold himself back from thrusting up into you, wanting nothing more than to buried completely inside you. You’re warm and soft, and wrapped so tightly around him that he swears this is what heaven feels like.

You’re finally able to sit completely on Lando after a few minutes of rocking back and forth on him. You take a second to catch your breath before slowly grinding down further on him.

Lando can’t pull his eyes away from you until he hears the metal from Oscar’s belt clink around.

He turns to see Oscar watching him with a smirk. “She feels good, doesn’t she?”

Lando can only nod his head, his eyes squeeze shut when you start to slowly lift your hips up then sink back down onto him.

Oscar pulls his pants down, then tugs his boxers down as well. He wraps his hand around his cock, slowly pumping it. His other hand tangles itself in Lando’s hair and gives it a sharp tug backwards.

Lando huffs out a breath as he stares up at Oscar, his eyes now a bit glassy from the pleasure he feels from you. His eyes drop down to Oscar’s cock, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Want a taste?” Oscar asks.

Lando leans towards him and licks a stripe up the underside of his cock, letting his tongue brush against the head and collect his precum.

Oscar sucks in a sharp breath as Lando’s tongue licks around the head. His grip in Lando’s curls gets tighter as he pushes his head closer to his cock.

Lando takes the tip into his mouth, softly sucking and swirling his tongue around it. Oscar can feel vibrations come from the occasional moan from Lando as you start to ride him faster.

The room is filled with a mix of sounds coming from the three of you. Your slick as you ride Lando, bouncing up and down on his cock, Lando gagging as he tries to take more of Oscar down his throat. And none of you are being particularly quiet. Your moans mixed with Lando’s muffled moans, and Oscar’s deep groans bounce off the walls. God help whoever had the room next door to Lando’s.

Oscar is the first to cum. How can he not when Lando looks up at him with big doe eyes as he hollows his cheeks around his cock. Lando can feel Oscar’s release shoot down his throat, the warm salty cum coming out in spurts as Oscar has his head thrown back, thrusting himself into Lando’s mouth.

You can’t help but clench around Lando at the sight. You’ve given Oscar head before, but you don’t know if it’s ever actually felt as good as what Lando had done.

Oscar’s chest heaves slightly as he pulls himself from Lando’s mouth. A string of saliva connects Lando’s lips to Oscar’s cock. Oscar gives him a lazy smile.

“Why don’t you help Y/n cum just like you helped me? Play with her.” He instructs Lando.

Lando doesn’t hesitate to move his hands to your body, playing with your tits, pinching your nipples. One of his hands finds it’s way down to where you two connect, and softly rubs at the little bundle of nerves.

You yelp and lift yourself higher on his cock before dropping down again. Your thighs feel like they’re on fire, the muscles getting sore from the constant movement. Lando presses his fingers against your clit again, now much more sure of himself than before.

Tears begin to form in your eyes as you struggle to keep your pace. Lando begins to thrust up into you to help keep the rhythm you’ve set. His arms flex as they hold himself up on the bed. Yours wrap around his neck as you bury your face in his shoulder.

“I’m gonna cum Lando.” You whimper as he presses harder against your clit.

He feels you clench around him one last time before you cum. You moan out both his and Oscar’s name as you cum, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your release triggers Lando’s as he shoots his cum deep inside of you. He hold you down onto his cock as he continues to thrust up into you, pushing his cum as far as he can in you.

You slowly peel yourself off of Lando, whining at the empty feeling between your legs. You glance over at the two boys now laying down on the bed. Both are covered in a light sheen of sweat. Oscar has now pulled his shirt off as he lays back, softly stroking Lando’s hair.

You lay down on Lando’s other side, resting your head on his chest.

“That was… wow.” He says, his voice a little gruff. “Is it like that every time?”

“We don’t have threesomes Lan.” You softly giggle. “We only sleep with people we love.” You press a soft kiss to his flushed chest.

“So you better get used to it, because now you’re stuck with us.” Oscar tells him as he buries his face in Lando’s neck.

You and Oscar let sleep wash over you, wrapped up around the British driver, who just smiles to himself pulling the two of you closer to him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I loved you sooner.” He whispers into the darkness.

[isaadore]

SECOND BEST QUINN HUGHES

pairing quinn hughes x childhood friend!reader

SUMMARY you and quinn were inseparable growing up; two halves of the same whole. you gave him everything: your time, your loyalty, your heart. but as you both grew older, he only gave you scraps of his life. one day, you realize you’re tired of being second best. tired of waiting for something that might never come. word count 2.3k words

warnings ANGST with no happy ending, quinn’s a jerk and oblivious, lack of communication, reader’s feelings are unrequited (?)

note hey i’m back (again) 🤞 sorry my first fic back is angst with no happy ending (i felt moody)

MAIN MASTERLIST QH43 MASTERLIST

THE HUM OF the hockey broadcast filled the quiet air of Quinn’s living room, the commentator’s voice a low, steady background to the stillness that had settled between you. The rain outside created a rhythmic pattern on the windows, the soft tap of each droplet almost soothing, a constant companion to the uneasy weight that had been growing in your chest for the past few months. You sat curled into the corner of the couch, your legs tucked beneath you as you absentmindedly scrolled through your phone, but you weren’t really looking at anything. Your mind was elsewhere, swirling with thoughts and doubts you couldn’t quite articulate.

Quinn was sprawled out on the floor, his back leaning comfortably against the coffee table as he sat with his legs stretched out in front of him. His focus was entirely on the highlights playing on the TV, his lips twitching into a grin every so often at something the commentator said. The way he laughed, the way his eyes lit up at the game, everything about him looked so carefree. The joy he felt in these moments was palpable, and for a brief second, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. You wondered what it would be like to feel that kind of peace, that kind of joy, without noticing the underlying tension that had been building between you.

You watched him for a while, noticing the way his muscles shifted with each laugh, the way his dark hair flopped over his forehead, the sharp line of his jaw as he took in the TV. He looked happy, content, even. And for a moment, you allowed yourself to savour the image of him like this, calm and oblivious to the storm brewing in your chest. But that moment was quickly swept away by the familiar ache that tugged at your insides.

There was a heaviness in your chest, a deep sense of unease that you couldn’t shake. It had been there for months, growing quietly but steadily, until it became an unspoken tension between you two. Quinn had always been your best friend, but recently, it felt like something was missing, like you were no longer the person he turned to when things got tough, when he needed someone to lean on. And that ache, that silent emptiness, had only deepened since the arrival of her.

Her.

The girl he’d been spending so much time with lately, the one who seemed to occupy his every waking thought. The one whose name seemed to slip from his lips in conversation, whose laughter filled the space between the two of you more than once. The one who had taken up residence in every corner of his attention. The realization hit you harder than you cared to admit: You were no longer his first thought. You were no longer the one he shared the small moments with, the one he turned to for comfort. You had been replaced.

The thought churned your stomach.

“I think I’m skipping the party tonight,” you said, breaking the silence, your voice quiet but steady.

Quinn didn’t take his eyes off the screen, his voice coming without a second thought. “Why? Everyone’s going to be there.”

Everyone. His teammates, his friends, and her. You didn’t need to say her name; the words were already written between the lines of the invitation. The girl who seemed to be in his orbit at all times now. The girl who had slowly, quietly, taken your place.

“I just don’t feel like it,” you replied, trying to sound casual, but your voice faltered slightly despite your best effort.

For a brief moment you let yourself hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d notice something in your tone, something in the way you spoke, something that hinted at the heaviness that had been pressing on your chest for weeks now. Maybe he’d pause the broadcast, turn to you, and ask you if something was wrong. Maybe he’d ask if you wanted to stay in like you used to. Like you were still important to him.

But Quinn didn’t. He shrugged, his attention not once leaving the TV screen.

“Suit yourself,” he said, his voice casual, almost dismissive.

It was like a slap to the face, even though you had been bracing for it. The ache in your chest intensified as the disappointment took root, deepening as you tried to swallow down the bitter truth. The truth that you weren’t the person he relied on anymore, that you were no longer his priority. You stood up from the couch, the movement stiff, your muscles tense from the knot that had formed in your stomach. You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, making your way toward the door, trying to hide the way your heart was breaking.

“Right,” you muttered, forcing out the words. “Have fun.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, barely sparing you a glance, his attention still firmly on the screen.

You stepped out onto the porch, the cool, damp air hitting you instantly as the drizzle soaked through your sweater. You paused there for a moment, staring out into the night, the faint glow of the streetlights casting long shadows across the wet pavement. The rain had quieted to a gentle mist, but it did little to calm the tightness in your chest. For years, you had told yourself that things would get better, that you just needed to wait for the right moment, for the right shift in the universe. You had always believed that Quinn would eventually come around, that he would realize how much you cared and how long you had been there for him.

But tonight, standing alone in the rain, the truth was undeniable. The truth you had been running from for so long finally crashed down on you, and it hit harder than you had ever imagined.

FLASHBACK

When you were twelve, summers felt infinite. Endless days spent riding bikes down the quiet neighbourhood streets, jumping into the cool lake that shimmered under the sun, and spending nights making up stories under the stars. You and Quinn had been inseparable. He was your best friend, your confidant, your partner in crime. There was no one else in the world who could make you laugh the way Quinn could.

One evening, the two of you sat by the lake, your feet dipping into the cool water as the last rays of the sun painted the sky in soft oranges and pinks. The air smelled like fresh grass, and everything felt right, like the world had paused just for you two.

“Do you think we’ll always be friends?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, as you stared at the sunset, unsure where the question had come from.

Quinn looked at you like you were crazy. “Why wouldn’t we?”

You picked at a blade of grass between your fingers, the question lingering in the air. “I don’t know… what if you get famous? What if you forget about me?”

He laughed, splashing water at your feet in that way that only he could. “I’d never forget about you. You’re my best friend.”

“Promise?” you asked, your voice small but hopeful.

“I promise,” he said firmly, with a sincerity that made your heart swell. “You’ll come to all my games. We’ll talk every day. Nothing’s going to change.”

At that moment, you believed him with every fiber of your being. Back then, Quinn was everything: your world, your future, the person you couldn’t imagine living without. The promise he made felt unbreakable.

But now, everything had shifted. He wasn’t the same Quinn anymore. He was a version of himself you barely recognized. And you? You were just a bystander, watching him drift further and further away.

PRESENT DAY

It was a week after you walked out of Quinn’s apartment. A week after reality hit you like a truck. But you knew it was a matter of time before Quinn would contact you again, even if it meant you were just a second thought.

The invitation had sat there for days, a silent reminder of your place in his life. You coming? the text had read, sent with all the casualness of someone who had no idea the impact those words would have on you.

You hadn’t replied.

But tonight, something inside you cracked. Even knowing that she would be there, even knowing you would be nothing more than an afterthought, you couldn’t stop yourself from responding. But before you could, another message came in.

Leaving in 10. You coming or not?

You stared at the message for what felt like an eternity, your thumb hovering over the keyboard as the weight of your decision settled on you. Despite everything, despite the way your heart twisted at the thought of seeing him with her, you couldn’t ignore the voice inside you telling you to go.

Against every instinct, you typed out a response:

Be there soon.

The house was alive with the sound of music, the bass reverberating through the walls and vibrating in your chest. You stepped inside and immediately felt the weight of the crowd, the mass of people moving about, drinks in hand, laughter spilling from every corner of the house. The noise, the chaos; it all felt like a world you no longer belonged to.

Your eyes scanned the room, searching for him, already regretting your decision to show up. The anxiety in your stomach twisted harder with each step, your pulse racing as your gaze landed on him.

There he was, laughing, surrounded by his teammates, and of course, her. She was right there, standing so close to him, her hand brushing against his arm, her laughter filling the space between them. Quinn looked down at her, his smile soft and easy, the kind of smile you used to see so often, the one that made your heart skip a beat. But now, it wasn’t for you. It was for her.

It felt like a punch to the gut.

You stood frozen, the bitter taste of jealousy and heartbreak rising in your throat. But you forced a smile as Quinn’s voice broke through your thoughts.

“Hey!” He waved you over, his eyes lighting up when he spotted you.

You forced yourself to walk toward him, the distance between you and them feeling miles long. His arm slid around your shoulders, the familiar gesture doing nothing to ease the tightness in your chest.

“I’m glad you made it,” he said, his voice warm, but there was something in it that felt hollow.

“Yeah,” you replied quietly, your voice barely audible as you looked at him, trying to find something in his eyes that reminded you of the person you used to know. But there was nothing. Not anymore.

Before you could speak again, her voice cut through the moment. She laughed, and Quinn’s attention shifted to her in an instant, as if you had become invisible.

Just like that, you were forgotten once again.

FLASHBACK

You were seventeen when you realized just how much you had always been second place.

It was prom season, and the halls of your high school were buzzing with excitement. The chatter about dresses, tuxedos, date filled the air. You hadn’t thought much about it until Quinn started talking about asking someone out.

“She’s nice,” he said one day as the two of you walked home from school. “I think you’d like her.”

You forced a smile, nodding. “That’s great.”

He didn’t see it. He didn’t see how much it hurt. How his words dug deep into your chest.

When prom night came, you stayed home. Social media was flooded with photos of everyone, dressed to the nines, Quinn among them, standing proudly with his date, his arm casually draped over her shoulders. The pictures were everywhere.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. But the longer you stayed in that silence, the more the ache in your chest grew.

PRESENT DAY

After thirty agonizing minutes of silently standing beside Quinn and making awkward small talk with strangers, you slipped outside onto the back porch. The cool air offered a brief relief from the heaviness in your heart. Dampness from a storm earlier today clung to the air, making it harder to breathe.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, staring out at the distant skyline, wondering how it had all gone so wrong. How had you gone from the person Quinn turned to for everything to just a shadow of his past?

The door creaked open behind you. Quinn’s voice called out softly. “Hey. What are you doing out here?”

You didn’t turn to face him. “Just needed some air.”

He stepped closer, his footsteps barely audible. “You okay?”

You swallowed hard. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine,” he said, his voice soft but concerned. “You’ve been… kind of distant lately.”

You finally turned to face him, the bitterness you had been swallowing spilling out before you could stop it. “Why do you care, Quinn?”

He blinked, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m tired,” you said, your voice trembling. “Tired of always being the one who waits for you. The one who shows up for you, who puts you first, even when I’m clearly not your priority.”

“That’s not true,” he protested.

“Isn’t it?” You took a step toward him, anger rising. “When was the last time you really chose me, Quinn? Because I can’t think of a single time.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but the words didn’t come.

You let out a shaky breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. “I’ve spent my whole life waiting for you to see me. But I’m starting to realize I’ll never be enough for you. And I can’t do this anymore.”

“Wait,” he said, his voice desperate as he reached for your arm, pulling you gently toward him. “Please, don’t go.”

You froze, your heart pounding as you pulled your arm out of his grasp. “Why not, Quinn?” You searched his eyes, hoping for something, anything. “Give me one good reason to stay.”

The silence between you was deafening.

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you walked away, your heart breaking with each step.

And this time, you didn’t look back.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎MAIN MASTERLIST ✷ QH43 MASTERLIST

[klaus-littlestwolf]

All the Time in the World-Sub!Aemond x Vampire

Warning:Vampires in this story-which means a heavy description of blood and death before turning into one. If you are uncomfortable with depictions of a bloody murder scene or someone choking on blood this story is not for you. This is also a Sub!Aemond in case that wasn’t clear, how could he have grown up with such a strong, sweet vampire women and not fallen in love with her?

There will also be mentions of SA and Aemond’s first experience in the brothel and how his mate deals with that once she finds out.

DD:DNE

Fic Moodboard

Y/n had been protecting the Red Keep and the Royal Family inside of it since Viserys was a baby and before Daemon was even born. Both boys were very close to the vampire since their own mother died when they were 3 and 7, Daemon clinging to her skirts until his father deemed it “inappropriate” which she found funny. To this day the man still had a sad little crush on her despite his 2 past wives and obvious lust for his niece.

Viserys kept her around when he became King, being fond of the women and knowing that she would never do anything but protect his family. She never could have foreseen one of the Kings children being her mate, though she hid it very well knowing that she could never leave now even if she actually wanted to. No need to let them know that, can’t let humans have the upper hand. Historically that hasn’t gone well for supernatural species.

Aemond, as a human, couldn’t feel the bond (though he would-should he become a vampire) but he was desperately in love with her anyway. Y/n suspected it had something to do with Alicent being a terrible mother to her children and Aemond’s “Mommy Issues” but also the fact that she was the one who comforted him every time his elder brother and nephews ridiculed him once again for his lack of dragon. Y/n didn’t want to make the young boy attached to her but she hated seeing her small mate in pain and every time she was forced to hear his cries her undead heart cracked once again.

The older he got the more distance she attempted to maintain, especially after the Queen made it clear that she did not appreciate her son growing attached to a “monster”. However the night that Aemond lost his eye, she may as well have broadcast how protective of the Targaryen Prince she really was…she practically did.

Y/n was awoken in her bed to the sound of knights running up the corridor and even worse than that, the heavy, delicious scent of her mates blood, quite a lot of it. When she sped down the halls and into the room she was stunned to find a Maester stitching up Aemond’s face. Luke had what appeared to be a broken nose and all of the children besides Aegon and Helaena were disheveled, though the only one bleeding copious amounts of blood was for some reason her mate.

“What happened?!” She demanded, storming in towards the scene, noting that the Maester was stitching up a missing eye (while said eye sat in a bloody dish).

“Y/n!” Aemond exclaimed, reaching his hand out for her comfort, comfort that he had not received in months since his mother insisted she avoid her son at all costs several months before. This time however, Y/n couldn’t have done it if she had wanted to and Aemond felt at least some form of relief from his favorite persons touch again.

“Oh sweet boy! What’s happened to you?!” She cooed, knowing the needy boy just craved affection and that now more than any other day, he needed it. His mother was in no place to comfort her son as she was snapping at anyone in the vicinity, angry at everyone it seemed.

“I claimed a dragon…” he mumbled into her ear as she hugged him, careful not to touch the injured side of his face. “I rode Vhagar…they said I stole her and attacked me. I admit I didn’t say the nicest things but they all attacked me and Luke…there was sand in my eyes and then he…” He was trying not to cry desperately, not wanting to seem weak in front of this women that was the epitome of strength, and that he was desperately in love with but she held him tighter and he allowed himself to cry for several moments until the doors opened and everyone else began arriving-Corlys and Rhaenys, the King himself who was looking rougher and smelling more and more of death every day in Y/n’s eyes (the scent of his blood was completely revolting), and finally Rhaenyra and…Daemon? Together? Y/n found that interesting…but not shocking.

“It’s alright sweet boy, breathe. It is alright to cry if that is what you need, if our bodies weren’t meant to cry then they wouldn’t be able to, now would they?” This made the boy smile slightly, though he winced in pain as soon as he did as his face moved.

Aemond held tightly to her hand as Alicent shouted at everyone and Rhaenyra tried to justify her sons actions. The King demanded Aemond tell him where he had heard Jace and Luke being called ‘bastards’ and he quickly blamed Aegon who made it clear that everyone in the room knew. “Could any word, any insult of any kind justify having your eye carved from your head? He was called a foul word and so he sliced his Uncles face with a blade he brought to an ambush, 4 on 1 which was clearly the intention. How is being called a bastard-which shouldn’t matter if it is not true- worth this?” Y/n questioned, everyone instantly shocked as most had never heard her say more than 5 words at once.

“It is treason!” Rhaenyra snapped.

“Oh, come off it! A word is not fucking treason, trying to murder a Prince however, now that is treason, a crime which Lucerys has clearly committed. If anyone should be sharply questioned it should be him.” Once again, everyone was stunned including Aemond who was looking up at Y/n as if she hung the stars in the sky herself just for him.

“Enough! The matter is finished! I will have No More of this infighting!” The King snapped, Aemond once again holding tight to Y/n who stroked his hair softly, everyone shuffling off to bed once Alicent had ‘calmed down’.

“Can you heal him?” The mother asked Y/n as they stood at Aemond’s bedside, the boy looking up at her hopefully.

“I can heal the injury, yes but I cannot grow body parts back, the scar will remain no matter what I do…I’m sorry sweet boy.” Aemond held her hand firmly as his mother huffed angrily, storming off to find the Maester once her son had gulped down the milk of the poppy.

“It is not your fault…it is Luke’s. And he will pay for making me a monster, I swear to the Gods he will!” Y/n’s eyes widened and she forced Aemond to look at her.

“You are not a monster! You are scarred, that is all. Plenty of men have scars and many women find them attractive. One day you will meet a wonderful noble lady and she will love you for everything that you are, sweet boy.”

“Do you?” Aemond asked and she looked at him curiously. “Do you like men with scars?”

“Oh…yes. It shows women how strong he is, that he will be good at protecting them and their family…sadly I will never have that. However, just like you will meet a wonderful lady, I will find myself a vampire to be with one day…I’m sure...” She said it even though she didn’t believe a word she was saying.

“I want to be a vampire some day. You could turn me and I could stay with you forever!” He smiled, pulling her to lay down beside him in the large bed, his mind clearly becoming foggy thanks to the milk of the poppy. She hesitated but it felt nice to be close to her mate, to know after he had been injured so grievously that he was completely safe in her arms as he rested his head on her shoulder. “We can go anywhere we want now that I have Vhagar, nothing would be able to stop us.”

“Never sweet boy…you sleep now. Have sweet dreams.” She encouraged but he was already asleep, his face nestled into her neck in a vulnerable position she would only ever trust her mate to be in.

About a year after that Y/n was sent to Dragonstone by the King. There had been an attempt on Rhaenyra’s life and he wanted the Vampire to protect his daughter and her family.

Aemond protested loudly but it did nothing and she was still “made” to go. Y/n didn’t do anything she didn’t want to but she wanted to make sure that Aemond had time and space to grow into the perfect man she knew he would, one who was attracted to more women than just her and would be happy in his marriage. She couldn’t force him into this mating bond-she wouldn’t! Y/n also did not appreciate the idea of a man telling her what to do, male vampire mates are dominant and aggressive in a way humans cannot even fathom, which is why she avoids males and mated pairs like the plague.

They had fallen out of contact after Aemond had turned 13 and she knew he had found…other interests. A 13 year old boy does not want to write letters to a grown women while he can be pursuing girls his own age. It still hurt however and she knew, as they traveled back to Kings Landing because Corlys could not keep himself from nearly getting killed, that she needed to stay away from Aemond.

It was much easier said than done.

Jace and Luke had dragged Y/n with them to the training yard, a place they never spent much time at on Dragonstone as they believed they had not only their dragons but a vampire to protect them.

She stood back as they reminisced over their good times in the yard, though she would not call being really bad at everything “good times”. Her attention was only drawn when she smelled him, his scent having evolved over the years. It was stronger now, more manly and…heavy. Y/n was instantly obsessed with it and quickly needed to control herself, clamping down on her instincts as strongly as she could-her instinct right now being to shove a bloody wrist into his mouth and change him, leaving him with no choice but her-she refused to do that no matter how tempting it was. She had always felt drawn to Aemond as her mate, however she severely underestimated how intense being physically attracted to him would be for the first time now that he was grown.

‘Nephews. Have you come to train?’ He asked the boys who stiffened, moving back towards her to ensure their safety. ‘Hello darling…you haven’t changed a bit!’ He grinned, stepping closer before she stepped back.

‘You have my Prince…you are grown. You should get back to your training session, I would not want to cause a distraction.’

Okay, so maybe she was a bit upset that he stopped writing her, but honestly it had hurt her feelings. Just because she’s a vampire does not mean that she has no feelings, she had feelings and they’re so much stronger than any normal human could possibly imagine. She walked back into the castle being followed by Rhaenyra’s idiot sons that she dubbed such as they did not like to work for things that they knew would be theirs. Does anyone think that Luke will be fighting for his own inheritance? Of course not, his mother will do it for him like every other day.

Y/n was given her own room and she quickly found it, grabbing herself some peasant clothes and making her way back out of the Keep and into the streets.

She found herself a meal in the form of 2 would be rapists and sent the woman (unharmed but for some torn clothes) on her way while she ate her meal. Their blood was laced with horrible ale, making Y/n resent getting accustomed to fine wine and delicious human food.

‘Are you enjoying yourself, my love?’ She spun around to see her mate under a cloak, hiding his hair and eye patch.

‘Have you lost your mind?!’ She snapped. ‘What are you doing here?!’

‘I wanted to see you. You would not speak to me and I-‘

‘If you remember correctly my Prince, you would not speak to me! You stopped writing, I have just continued the level of communication that you wanted and now it is time to get the Prince of the Realm back home! Start walking!’ She growled, pushing him forward before storming back towards the Red Keep, having her elbow grabbed and being shoved against a wall while thinking about how lucky he should consider himself, he would be the only person she ever allowed to do such a thing.

‘Please stop this, I am sorry Y/n! Truly sorry, you cannot possibly-‘

‘Understand?’ She cut him off. ‘I have been alive for a very long time Aemond-longer than you ever will-do-‘

‘I Was Ashamed!’ He raged, eyes hard as he looked down at her from where he stood, nearly a foot taller than her now. ‘My brother took me to a brothel and I…I was ashamed of what happened to me!’

In that moment Y/n felt her heart crack in 2, her mate had been hurt, had been assaulted and it had been his own brothers fault. ‘Aemond…why would you not just tell me? I would never judge you for that sweet boy, that is not your fault! Just because most men think with their cocks, it doesn’t mean you need to enjoy everything and someone forcing you is not okay!’ She pulled him down to her and hugged him firmly, allowing him to cling to her as she knew he had missed. ‘Take me to this brothel Aemond. Now.’ She demanded, taking his hand in hers and pulling him towards the silk street.

‘No! I don’t want you anywhere near there, those men-‘

‘Will have their heads popped like zits if they touch either one of us. Now point it out! Or do you want me to get upset with you-‘

‘No! No, no. It’s over there.’ He mumbled, pointing at a building that definitely looked like a brothel.

‘Now, you point these ladies out to me. How many of them touched you?’ His face turned a deep shade of red that disappeared under his cloak and she was curious to see how far it went.

‘Y/n, I don’t…2 of them.’ He realized that she was going to get her answers one way or another and it would just be easier to give them to her. ‘Her.’ He spoke silently as a women opened the door, her eyes lighting up as she saw him.

‘It’s been a long time…my my, how you’ve grown.’ She flirted and Y/n felt her fangs growing from her gums.

‘Hello. This is a tad embarrassing to admit but my man and I are having some…troubles…in the bed chamber and I had hoped the women that were so good to him before would be willing to…teach me how to please him? I can pay you both handsomely.’ She promised and the woman’s eyes lit up, taking her hand and pulling her inside.

‘What are you doing?’ Aemond whispered, leaning down to her and keeping his hands on her waist protectively which the beastial part of her vampire brain loved.

‘No one hurts my sweet boy and lives. I would have killed them a long time ago if you had just told me the truth, no more secrets.’ They were escorted into a separate area with a large bed in the middle, curtains being drawn shut behind and Aemond’s hands clamped down on Y/n’s waist tighter than she believes he meant to. ‘You’re safe with me Aemond, I will never let anyone hurt you again.’ She promised, taking his face into her hands and making sure he saw how serious she was before he suddenly connected their lips together roughly.

He was awkward and didn’t quite know what he was doing so instead of pushing him away and make him feel rejected, she grabbed the back of his neck and took control of the kiss which had him whimpering, clinging to her waist before a throat cleared. ‘Oh wow, you were right Sylvie…not such a little thing anymore, are you?’ The new women in the room giggled and it took everything to keep her vampire visage from showing.

‘Why don’t you go ahead and get undressed and we’ll get started.’ Sylvie told the vampire and she nodded, pushing Aemond to sit.

‘You just relax sweet boy, I’m going to take care of the ones that hurt you. I promise.’ She ignored the clear tent in his pants before unlacing her dress, pulling it down her body and dropping her small clothes as well to leave her completely bare. There is something to be said about the feeling of feeding (especially messily) when you can get it all over your skin. It makes a vampire feel…free.

‘Leona can get him ready for you, you come here for me.’ Sylvie instructed but Y/n grabbed Leona’s hand tightly before she touched Aemond.

‘No. This is about teaching me, only I touch him, he is mine.’ She tried to keep the growl from her voice but she knew that she had failed as they looked quite startled.

‘Of course! It is your coin, whatever you desire.’ With that Sylvie turned to undress and Y/n grabbed Leona by the throat.

The ship ride had been long and annoying, full of nothing to eat considering the royal family would never offer up their own blood for their protector-why would they?

‘You will not scream, not make a sound. You will not flee…I’m going to save you for last. You seem like you’ll taste better…cleaner.’ She compelled and Leona looked terrified but had no choice but to stay in the bed as Y/n turned back to Sylvie. When she looked back the vampire grabbed ahold of her throat and cut off her scream at seeing her true face. ‘It’s terrifying to look at, isn’t it? Even the whole of the royal family hasn’t seen what I truly look like. It’s meant to make preys final moments terrifying you see…fear makes the blood…exquisite.’ She laughed, watching the women gasp for air as she tried to claw at her face resulting in fangs sinking into her hand and taking off 2 fingers which dropped onto the bed, her screams unable to come out as she held Sylvie’s airway so firmly. ‘You hurt my boy.’ Y/n growled, pinning her down to the bed, blood now covering her bare torso as she continued trying to push her away with her 3 fingered hand. ‘His elder brother told you to and so you didn’t care how he felt…did you ask if he wanted you to fuck him?’ She was gapping like a fish out of water, clawing at porcelain skin. ‘Answer Me!’ She roared and Sylvie flinched, shaking her head as best she could. ‘No, of course not. Why would you? You had gotten your money and every boy wants to fuck any women any time, don’t they? Yeah? Horseshit! Men can be assaulted just like girls and you assaulted him…admittedly no one would have cared if it wasn’t for me. But I do, I care very much. And I’m going to kill you both for it.’

Tears leaked from her eyes as claws dug into her shoulder, ripping down her chest and gashing her open, more dark blood spraying all over the bed. ‘Y/n? You don’t have to-‘

‘Maybe you should wait outside sweet boy, this could be too much for you.’ She told him before releasing the woman’s throat and burying sharp fangs into her neck, downing the rest of her blood-though she was much too weak to make a sound now.

As Y/n was distracted she did not notice the other girl having pulled a dagger from behind the pillows, but Aemond did. He grabbed her before she could touch the vampire woman and fought with her for a second before the blade was thrust up and buried into his throat. It was only when she smelled his distinct scent that she turned to find him bleeding from a gaping hole in his neck prompting her to punch the girl in the side of the head, her collapsing unconscious instantly before she caught Aemond who tried to stumble back, holding his throat tightly.

He opened his mouth, blood spewing from his neck as he tried to make a sound. ‘Scared…’ he choked, coughing blood all over his mouth and chin.

‘Shh, don’t talk sweet boy, it’s okay. Just drink, I need you to swallow for me quickly before you die! Just drink, it’s alright, I’m right here’’ She insisted, ripping open the veins in her wrist roughly and shoving it into his mouth. He painfully swallowed as she instructed, his bloody hand reaching up to touch her face as he was seeing her vampire visage for the first time. He didn’t look afraid as he touched her, fingers trailing the dark veins under her eyes before his hand fell and she realized his eye had gone glassy and his heart had stopped.

Fuck!

She removed his cloak and weapons from him but left his clothes on, mate or not she did not want to make him uncomfortable in anyway, before settling him on the clean pillows off to the side of the large bed. The younger girl woke up before Aemond and Y/n compelled her quickly, wiping off the bits of blood that had landed on her before having her leave the bed and fetch them the things they would need.

It was about an hour before he opened his eye, just as she started getting worried that he hadn’t actually injested any of her blood. He groaned as he sat up, stretching before his body froze, nostrils flaring and eyes shooting open to lock onto her with a truly wild look in them. ‘Calm down Aemond, you’re going to behave! You need to feed before anything else or you will die again and this one will be permanent.’ He gave no indication that he understood her as he watched her take hold of the girl and drag her over to him, slicing into her neck with a claw. ‘Drink sweet boy, now!’ His eyes widened a bit, stunned by her demands and she could understand why as he did what she said, draining the whore quickly.

Male vampires are dominant creatures-Aemond is not. Not really anyway. Now his natural instincts and feelings are battling with his new ones, though Y/n knew that she could fix that just fine. ‘Y/n, you-‘

‘I know. I tried to keep you from this, I shouldn’t have brought you here and I’m sorry-‘ he lunged forward, shoving her back onto the bed and growling, nuzzling his face into her throat.

‘I was meant to be with you, I always knew it…but you tried to keep me away? You didn’t want me to-‘

‘I wanted you to live a normal life, Aemond! A happy life where you could have a wife and children of your own, I can never give that to you!’ She snarled, flipping them both over and pinning him this time. ‘I didn’t get to choose this life! This was done to me, no one gets a choice! I just…I didn’t want to force this Hell on you just because I was greedy. I love you sweet boy, I always have. Admittedly you made it a bit more challenging to stay away from you by growing up.’ She teased making him smile. ‘I can still teach you how to act, you can be a Prince as you’re supposed to be. Children won’t be possible any longer but a marriage-‘

‘A marriage to anyone but you is out of the question and I would be happy to be the one to tell my Grandsire…mine!’ He snarled, pressing his lips to hers again much harder this time.

‘Stop! Stop-Not here! Not in this place so full of horrid memories for you sweet boy-‘ he snarled instantly making her growl and cut him off. ‘You are and always will be my sweet boy, being a vampire does not change that. It’s what you want and it’s what I want. Might as well just get used to it now…then again, you don’t have much time. We need to get back to the Keep.’ She knew that they needed to hurry to make the succession hearing on time, she’ll just have to keep Aemond extra close to ensure he doesn’t get too…excited.

Though training a baby vampire hadn’t been on her to do list anytime soon…historically, they’re not very well behaved children.

Y/n stood beside Aemond in the hall to ensure he did not lose himself if someone started bleeding. Rhaenyra and Daemon gave her odd looks but she tried to ignore it, instead listening to Vaemond argue for why he should take over Driftmark instead of Luke.

Rhaenyra had only just started arguing for her son when the doors opened and a guard introduced the King prompting her to pull Aemond behind her now, nearly shoving Aegon off his feet in her rush. ‘Hold your breath!’ She demanded and he looked at her confused. ‘You will not handle the smell of your father well at all, hold your-‘ at that moment Y/n was overwhelmed with the stench of foul death and Aemond gagged.

‘What is that?!’ He whisper shouted down at her, Aegon now locked onto their conversation and trying to catch up through his near constant drunken haze.

‘That is the scent of death, his blood is practically toxic and it is so much worse than last time, he’s literally decaying-oh God!’ She shoved down the bile that rose in her throat and held her breath as Aemond did.

‘Wait-are you…?’ Aegon questioned prompting Aemond to glare and pull her closer possessively. ‘Holy Shit! I knew it would happen, I knew it! Hey, I want to be a vampire as well-‘

‘You by my side for eternity? I can think of nothing worse.’ Aemond responded before they all quieted down, the King panting heavily as he questioned why people were discussing a settled succession. ‘Oh dear, he’s going to get himself killed.’ Her mate chuckled while Vaemond was calling Rhaenyra’s boys bastards.

‘Yes, maybe we should-Dammit Daemon!’ Y/n hissed, the top half of a Vaemond’s head splattering against the floor in a bloody mess, his tongue hanging out of what used to be his face, blood spraying out of the now flat surface that was previously his skull. She grabbed ahold of Aemond before he lunged and Aegon moved to grab his other arm as well (which while it was appreciated and a nice sentiment of wanting to protect his little brother, would only end up with his bones being snapped if Aemond grabbed or pulled him too hard).

‘Y/n…my old friend…what…is the problem?’ Viserys questioned, his voice laced with pain.

‘No problem at all my King, the Prince is just feeling a bit under the weather. I shall escort him back to his chambers-‘

‘It seems to be a tad more than that.’ Daemon teased though his tone held anger as well prompting Aemond to growl, not liking any man anywhere to speak to his mate like that.

‘You seem to know the answer already Daemon, yet you tease like an idiot. Maybe you could handle him yourself, yes?’ She wondered, releasing her iron grip and watching her mate rocket into the warrior Prince who instantly fought as hard as he could but could not even move a muscle as his nephew pinned him to the floor.

Just as he was about to dig his fangs in she grabbed ahold of the back of his neck and pulled him back. ‘Mate! You heard him, he-‘

‘I know, and yet you’re going to release him anyway…Now!’ She demanded and he detached himself from his Uncle.

‘You’ve turned my son into a-‘ as if Aemond was prepared for exactly what his mother was going to say he cut her off quickly.

‘She saved me mother! I had a dagger shoved into my throat and my mate saved my life! You will not speak to her like that, no one will, or I will ensure you never speak again!’ He threatened.

‘Apologies my Queen, he is as of yet unable to control his rage, controlling any emotion takes time. We will work on it.’ She swore, pulling him back to the other side of the room. ‘Though I do recommend controlling your sons, Princess. If they antagonize him like they normally do I cannot ensure their safety, therefore you must ensure that they behave themselves.’ Rhaenyra looked at Y/n completely stunned before she turned back to the King, Aemond now turning his attention to the blood pooling all over the floor. ‘I will take him to the Black Cells and allow him to gorge himself before dinner tonight, he will be in complete control by then…probably…’

The King looked curious but clearly unable to do much anymore, the pain being too much. ‘Go.’ He waved them off and Y/n grabbed ahold of her mate and pulled him from the hall.

‘I do not like the way he looks at you.’ Aemond speaks as they descend into the dungeons.

‘Your father? He is nothing more than a dear friend, though watching his life has been a disappointment, I had always expected him to be a much better father-‘

‘No! Daemon! He leers at you and I do not appreciate-‘

‘Enough Aemond. You need to take control of your emotions instead of letting them control you! You will not make it as a vampire if you cannot control your anger. I will help you, and I do not expect you to thrive the first night, but you need to try. Now, 3 should be plenty. Eat.’

Aemond paused a moment, looking over the now confused men in the cell, only moving to grab one of them when he lunged for Y/n. He was determined to be strong enough to protect her, no matter how hard he had to work. Hard work had never been a problem for Aemond, he was no stranger to it.

‘Slow down.’ Y/n instructed and he fought hard with himself to unlock his jaw and pull away from his meal, eyes looking back up at her and seeing perfectly in the dark Black Cells for the first time in his life. He can also see why you would want it so dark, it is absolutely disgusting down here, and the rats are huge. ‘Take a breath and savor it, notice how it makes your body feel. When you get used to how it makes you feel you’ll know when you’re full, there will always be a part of you that is thirsty for more so you need to know when enough is enough.’ She ran her fingers through his hair as she spoke and he began drinking slower, noticing how he could feel the strength returning to his body as if turning had physically drained all muscle from his body. As he continued swallowing the burning in his throat lessened more and more until it was just an ache.

Aemond drained all 3 men slowly, adoring the affection that his mate was bestowing upon him.

‘You did so good baby, listening so well…I think you deserve a treat, don’t you?’ The one eyed Prince nodded immediately, not willing to turn down a reward from his mate. ‘Good Boy…’ she coo’ed, kneeling beside him and pulling him to lay back against her body. He watched as she buried her teeth into her wrist before bringing it to his mouth. ‘Drink sweet boy, let your mate make you feel so good…’

He paused for a second, confused about what the difference could possibly be between the blood he’d had and his mates blood but he trusted her none the less and bit down into her wrist. The rush of pleasure up his spine was unlike anything Aemond had ever felt in his life. She tasted like bliss and his head filled with a pleasurable buzzing that had him moaning into her flesh.

‘That’s it baby. It’s all yours.’

‘Mmnngh!’ His…she was his…finally after all this time, Y/n belonged to Aemond and no one would ever steal her away. He pulled back, turning around to see her kneeling behind him with a smile on her face.

‘I didn’t expect you to finish that quickly, was-Oh!’ She grunted as he jumped onto her, laying her back over the dead bodies before burying his face into her neck and biting into her again. ‘Such a needy little thing!’ She growled, biting into his neck next, tearing off his shirt as she did. Aemond wasted no time in returning the favor, ripping at her dress and tearing it from her body, finally feeling her skin against his which was warmer than he ever dreamed now that he is just as cold as she is. ‘Are you sure you want to do this now? I want you to be ready, you never have to-‘ he cut her off, pressing his lips to hers hard and tearing his pants open to press himself against her warmth. He could not suppress the moan that built in his throat and while any other time he would feel embarrassed about how needy it sounded, he could not find it in himself to give a fuck at that moment.

‘I’ve always felt safe with you. You could never hurt me.’ He said it with such surety that Y/n didn’t question him anymore, just wrapped her legs around his waist as he pushed his way inside of her, growling into her neck at the warm, tight feeling around his cock. ‘So fucking perfect…fuck!’ Aemond cursed, moving quickly, his hips thrusting up into her at a speed that no normal human could even hope to achieve.

‘Fuck! That’s it sweet boy, take what you need.’ Her soft moans encouraged him to keep going and he wrapped his arms around her tightly, pulling her to his chest and holding her against him as he thrust up into her body. He couldn’t hide the purr that came from his chest as he felt her clinging to him tightly, her claws digging into his back deliciously.

‘Feel so good…so tight! Oh fuck!’ He grunted, knowing he was going to cum way too quickly but unable to stop himself.

‘It’s okay sweet boy, cum for me, fill me up.’ As if her permission was everything he needed he felt as if his body exploded in euphoria as he came. He dug his fangs into her neck and her sweet blood made his head fuzzy as he filled his mate as much as he was able.

When he was finally able to think clearly again he could feel her brushing her fingers through his hair gently which produced a soft purr from his chest that he couldn’t decide if he liked or not. ‘I’m sorry…’

‘No baby, there’s no need to be sorry. You did everything just right, everyone finishes early their first time and you’re a new vampire, everything feels a million times better. That’s not your fault-‘

‘But you didn’t…I want to make you feel good too.’ He admitted and immediately loved the smile it produced on her face.

‘There’s plenty of time for that. You’re a vampire now sweet boy, your stamina is 10x stronger. I will show you what to do, no man just knows how to make a girl cum without being taught, don’t ever think you’ve done something wrong. Okay? You and I have eternity now…though I would appreciate a bed before we do anything else? I can get behind fucking on top of a fresh kill but this dungeon is gross.’ Aemond couldn’t help his chuckle at that, lifting his mate back up and using his torn shirt to cover her nudity before moving to take her to his bed chamber. The rush he got through his body as he ran there felt like he had left his internal organs behind as he caught himself on the door making Y/n giggle. ‘You’ll get used to that, I promise.’

‘I don’t believe you on that one.’ He teased, shutting his door and locking it to ensure no one could get in. ‘I really hope you weren’t looking forward to that dinner tonight, because I’m not letting you out of this bed before dawn.’

‘Is that so?’ She teased before he tossed her onto the soft mattress, pinning her back down playfully.

‘It is my love. You are all mine for the rest of the night.’

‘I’m all yours for the rest of forever sweet boy, we have all the time in the world.’

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

[bimobuddy]

Storms

Hazbin TK fic

Writing this because there's currently a storm going on that's not supposed to end until 7 pm, and I'm not doing well :)

Lee!Alastor, Ler!Lucifer

Alastor might be ooc

CW: Fear of storms?? Anxiety

Summary: Hell gets a really bad storm, and Alastor isn't as composed as he normally is. When Lucifer finds out the reason why, he decides to put their rivalry aside and help him out.

BOOM

Alastor gripped his cane tightly in his hands, his permanent grin slightly more strained than usual. Wordlessly, he stood up from his seat and made an excuse to Charlie about needing to finish up some scripting for his next broadcast.

He turned and left the lobby, his shoes clicking as he walked down the hall.

CRAAACK!!

His breath caught in his throat as he picked up the pace a little, his ears starting to fold back.

"Heeey, Bambi!" Lucifer called, appearing in front of him. Oblivious to the Radio Demon's distress, he grinned, ready to harass him. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

Alastor gripped his cane so hard he thought he was about to snap it. "Not that it's any of your business, your highness, but I'm heading back to my room." He replied, trying to mask his fear behind his usual smile and sass.

As thunder sounded again, softer this time, more of a rolling sound, Lucifer picked up on Alastor's anxious demeanor. His tail flicked, and his ears were pinned back a little.

The king chuckled, "Oh come on, don't tell me you of all demons are scared of a little-"

BOOOM!!

Lucifer blinked and looked around. Had Alastor disappeared? The light sound of microphone feedback caught his attention, and he turned to see that Alastor hadn't disappeared into shadow, but instead dropped to the floor and hidden under a table in the hall.

Alastor's ears were fully pinned back as he shook and pressed himself back against the wall.

Sensing this was something deeper, Lucifer kneeled down to be eye level with him. "Hey," he started, speaking softly, the same way he had to Charlie when she was a child and scared of the dark, "You're okay, Al. This hotel was built with angelic power, the storm isn't going to break in."

Alastor, eyes wide still, looked up at the king. When Lucifer took a chance and reached a hand out, he was surprised when Alastor took it.

"When I was a child," the demon started, his voice losing its radio filter, "a really bad tornado hit Louisiana. It devastated our town and nearly destroyed my home. I was in the cellar with my mother for hours until we were found."

Lucifer's eyes widened a little bit, as he felt his heart break for the demon. He gave Alastor's hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "You know, Charlie used to be afraid of storms too-"

Alastor forced a short laugh. "Wonderful, I'm behaving like a child." He pulled his hand away, and climbed out from under the table, feeling embarrassed for having acted like that in front of his rival. As another boom of thunder sounded, Alastor froze and gripped the table so hard, the wood started to crack and splinter.

Lucifer summoned his wings and wrapped one side around Alastor. "Let me walk you to your room-" Alastor shook his head. "My room is modeled to look like the swamps of Louisiana, I can't-... I can't stay in there during a storm."

"Alright then... My room, come on." He turned and started to guide Alastor in the opposite direction. He folded his wings in and de-summoned them, as to let Alastor retain his dignity when they passed by the lobby again.

As he was being guided, Alastor didn't once argue or complain, much to the surprise of Lucifer. He actually stayed rather close to the king, ears down, forcing himself to take deep breaths.

When they reached Lucifer's room, there was a flash of lightning, causing Alastor to rush in quickly. Seeing Alastor break character so much was very odd and concerning to the king. For as long as he had known the demon, Alastor had the attitude of someone who was untouchable. And now here he was, shaking, and bleating like a scared fawn.

He sighed, feeling bad for him. He remembered when Charlie would come running into his room scared, during a storm. Back then, he would have scooped her up into his lap, and they would have counted the seconds between the flashes of lightning and the cracking of thunder. And when that didn't work, he'd- Oh there's an idea.

"Alastor?" He started, taking his hat off and setting aside. "You wanna know what I used to do with Charlie when she was scared of storms?" He asked with a smile.

The Radio Demon turned to face him. He was still holding onto that smile, but his eyes showed just how distressed he was. He tilted his head.

Lucifer waved him over, sitting down. "I'll show you, sit down." Alastor approached and sat next to him, willing to try anything at this point to calm his nerves. He set his cane aside and let out a surprised fawn squeak when the king just opened his coat. He was obviously wearing a shirt underneath, but he hadn't expected for Lucifer to touch him.

"It was a little game we'd play. You ready?" Before Alastor could question it, he saw another flash of lighting that made him jump. That was Lucifer's cue to start.

He reached forward and started to scritch his claws against Alastor's sides, up and down. The demon let out a startled yelp, and at first Lucifer thought maybe this was a bad idea. But when the host started to chuckle and lean into it, he smiled and continued.

As thunder rolled and boomed overhead, Lucifer slid his hands upward and spidered over his ribs. Alastor doubled over, laughing harder, yet he barely even noticed the loud noise, only able to focus on the tickling.

Playful claws zipped down and vibrated into his hips, and the radio host couldn't help but curl up and fall onto his side, tail wagging. He squeezed his eyes shut and laughed louder, his own hands shooting down to grab Lucifer's, yet he didn't push him away, seeming to be more than okay with this distraction.

The king gave his hips a break and reached up to gently scritch behind his ears. He couldn't stop the fond smile that painted itself across his face once Alastor's loud laughter melted away into staticky giggles.

Lucifer summoned his wings back and again, and wrapped them around Alastor, pressing them against his back. Alastor normally hated touch, but he welcomed this. It was warm, and the gentle, constant pressure against his back was helping with his anxiety, a lot actually.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Lucifer plucking one of his own feathers. His cheeks warmed and his ears folded back, but he didn't attempt to escape. He just squeezed his eyes shut again, and allowed the angel to flutter it under his chin.

Alastor burst into surprised giggles, shocked at just how ticklish it was. It definitely didn't feel like a normal feather, it was worse.

Lucifer chuckled, "Yeah, angels feathers, they're much more intense than birds." He saw the window flash, and brought the feather down to Alastor's tummy, pushing his shirt up. Right when the thunder started, he started to flick and flutter the feather against his skin, grinning to himself when Alastor jumped and curled up, laughing, gently batting at the king.

Yet he didn't even notice the storm outside.

[mousy-nona]

If you're still accepting prompts: Lucifer and Alastor are getting closer and closer, and Lucifer makes it clear he's interested in Alastor sexually. Alastor's uninterested in sex with anyone, but goes along with it because he thinks that's what he's supposed to do in a relationship. Lucifer stops when he realizes Alastor's dissociating through the whole thing.

They fell together like a storm. Furiously, without regard for those who might be caught in it. It started with a few raindrops – a few petty insults here and there, nothing too serious. But before they knew it, they had graduated to psy-ops (oh dear, your favorite duck is gone? You must learn to take better care of your things!), campaigns of terror that sent the residents of the hotel fleeing for cover, and full-on fist fights.

And finally, during one of those fights, they found the eye of the storm: an accidental brush of the lips. So quick, so innocent. Easy to brush off as if nothing had happened. 

But Lucifer found his heart was beating so fast it felt like a buzzing in his ears, and he knew he had found the truth of it. The reason why Alastor’s presence was like a perpetual itch he couldn’t scratch. Why he couldn’t take his eyes off of the demon whenever he was in the room. 

So he kissed him again (furiously) and Alastor had kissed him back (tentatively). 

Things didn’t change much after that. But Lucifer found himself making excuses to touch him, his fingers trailing a second or two longer on his chest when he grabbed his shirt during a fight, or lingering at his back when he pushed him out of the way. There were more of those sweeter moments too – cups of coffee shared in silence as they watched the morning sun rise over Pentagram City, reading together in front of the fire when everyone else had gone to bed, Alastor making biting (but helpful) comments as Lucifer glanced over the agenda for the annual Hell Assembly. Lucifer started moving some of the stuff from his workshop to Alastor’s studio, and when Alastor worked on his script for his next radio show, Lucifer would tinker with his experiments. And Alastor only got a little mad when he accidentally set the curtains on fire. 

They fell together so naturally that Lucifer didn’t even realize he had fallen in love until he found himself making Alastor a cup of coffee just the way Alastor liked it – black as sin, with cinammon sprinkled in – and he turned around to find Alastor had made him a cup just the way Lucifer liked it – a healthy splash of milk with five sugars. It was automatic, a thoughtless habit born of a hundred mornings where they’d done the exact same thing. 

“What?” Alastor asked.

“I’d like to keep you forever.” 

“What?” Alastor repeated.

“I love you, you idiot.” 

Alastor didn’t say it back for several weeks. Lucifer tried not to let it affect him, because love was freely given and Alastor didn’t have any obligation to love him the same, but Lord in Heaven it hurt. Were the rumors true? Was he really heartless? 

Then one night, when Lucifer was bent over a particularly difficult blueprint, he found the room had gone eerily silent. He glanced over at Alastor, who, instead of studying the current events in Hell for his latest broadcast, was staring at him with an intensity that made him nervous.

“What do you want?” 

Alastor melted into the shadows, and reappeared inches away. 

“Alastor, what in the world–” 

“Hush.” Alastor pressed the very edge of his claw against his mouth. “That’s quite enough out of you. I’m trying to concentrate.”

On what? Lucifer thought. 

Suddenly, Alastor leaned forward, and their lips met. It was just as delicious as the last time, and Lucifer felt himself melting into the kiss. Then Alastor’s tongue prodded against his lips, asking for entrance. Lucifer gave it, letting out an embarrassing moan as the taste of smoke and freshly roasted coffee and the barest hint of spice invaded his mind. He pushed forward, toppling them both onto the ground as his hand brushed against the hem of Alastor’s shirt. 

And Alastor, for his part, did…nothing. He didn’t touch him back, but he didn’t push him away either. Lucifer took that as a win and brushed his fingers across the bare, smooth skin of Alastor’s stomach. 

Alastor stiffened, his muscles locking in place. Lucifer glanced up, breaking their kiss. “Is everything okay?” He asked gently. 

Alastor’s expression was as unfathomable as the deep, but he nodded. “I thought I told you not to talk.”

Lucifer frowned. “Are you sure–” 

Alastor leapt forward, their mouths crashing into each other again. “Don’t. Talk.” He hissed in between desperate, ragged breaths. Lucifer groaned and resumed his exploration, running his hands up and down the hard planes of Alastor’s chest, his broad shoulders, his thin waist, his hard hips – so different from Lilith’s voluptuous curves, but different was good. His pulse fluttered like a bird’s as he reached for Alastor’s belt and started tugging. 

“Alastor,” he moaned, arching up to see if Alastor was feeling as good as he was – and abruptly stopped moving.

Alastor looked…empty. Far away. His eyes were like glass marbles, staring past and through Lucifer into the quiet darkness beyond.

Lucifer hissed and jerked away. Alastor stirred, as if rousing himself from a deep sleep. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Lucifer nearly snarled. “If you hated it, you should have told me! You didn’t need to put yourself through this!” A bitter taste filled his mouth. His hands felt dirty somehow, and he held them behind his back, as if that would somehow make them both forget what had just happened.

“I don’t hate it,” Alastor insisted.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” 

“It wasn’t terrible,” he amended.

“Fantastic,” Lucifer groaned. “I’m just going to – I’ll just see myself out, shall I?” He tried to escape to the safety of his room, but Alastor’s hand wrapped around his wrist, holding him tightly in place. 

“But this is what people do, isn’t it?” He huffed, his strange red eyes gleaming with an emotion that Lucifer had never seen on him before. “When you–” He broke off, as if he couldn’t quite make himself say it. “When they’re like us,” he finally finished. 

“Like us?” Understanding hit him like a lightning strike. “Oh. Alastor, did you do all this because I told you I loved you?”

“And I…feel similarly for you,” he choked out, looking like he was contemplating jumping out the window while he said it. “And people who feel this way –” 

“Alastor, this is you and me.” Gently, so as not to scare him away, Lucifer held his hand and pressed it to his heart. “When have we ever done things the way other people do? That’s the beauty of relationships – we can write our own rules, and to hell with what other people might think. Besides, we’re not exactly the conventional couple. I think I hate you almost as much as I love you. And now I know you love me too. You put your own comfort aside to try and make us work.” He swallowed, running his finger along Alastor’s sharp jawline. A love he hadn’t known since the Fall filled his spirit, and the room lit up with a gentle golden glow. “Thank you.” 

The relief emanating from Alastor was nearly palpable. He swallowed, then wrapped his hand around Lucifer’s. “One small correction.” 

“What’s that?”

“I think I hate you more than I love you.” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. Tacky prick."

"It takes one to know one."

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Bunny - Health Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader

(Part 4)

Pairing: Joker x Fem!Reader

Joker x Reader with Anxiety

Word Count: 9892

Warnings: Joker, lol

Summary: Poor Y/n let herself go while Joker was locked up, now she's sick and Joker's goons have to look after her

A/N: Took a while to get this one out (shocking) but got it done! a bit on the shorter side of my other fics, but I didn't really have much for this part, it's more of a little fun one

(Laptop was playing up again, so had to post from my phone, will fix later)

Hope you enjoy this part 💚

-

It had been an agonising week without Joker. Normally, this wouldn't have been a cause for concern, disappearing for stretches of time was just something he did. But this time was different. This time, she knew he was in trouble, and the weight of that knowledge pressed down on her like a vice. Her anxiety, already a constant companion, had become an unbearable storm of worry and dread.

The news outlets seized every opportunity to cover the story of Joker being locked up, using every scrap of information. While the police remained tight-lipped, determined to withhold key details, the public had ways of uncovering the truth.

Grainy cell phone footage of Joker in a shitty holding cell circulated online, and rumours spread like wildfire. Everyone seemed to have an opinion, their voices merging into a deafening roar that only added to Y/n’s unease.

Every time she passed a television or scrolled through her phone, there it was, his face plastered across the screen. Headlines blared about his arrest, speculating on his motives, his crimes, and what the authorities planned to do with him. Each broadcast felt like a punch to the gut, a painful reminder that he was out there, caged, while she was here, powerless to do anything about it.

She was surprised to see that his makeup was still intact. Whether the authorities hadn’t bothered to remove it or had tried and failed, it didn’t matter. His face remained as she remembered it, boldly painted and defiant, other than little empty patches here and there. Oddly enough, it brought her a small sense of comfort, a reminder that even in their custody, he was still him.

She couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. Her mind replayed their last moments together over and over, dissecting every detail, searching for some sign, anything, that he had a plan to get out of this. Because he always had a plan…didn’t he?

Y/n paced her small apartment, her nails chewed down to the quick, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She considered calling someone, Rocco, maybe, but what would she say? Who could she trust? And even if she found someone to talk to, what could they do?

The uncertainty gnawed at her. Joker’s absence wasn’t just a void in her life, it was a ticking time bomb, and she was terrified of what might happen when it finally exploded.

The days dragged on, blurring together as Y/n confined herself to her room. She couldn’t bring herself to do much of anything. Her appetite was nonexistent, and the thought of eating made her stomach churn. The only thing she consumed was water, and even that was more out of necessity than care.

The once-cozy space she called home felt suffocating, the walls seeming to close in on her. Her bed became her constant companion, the blankets pulled around her like armour against the world outside. She hadn’t bothered to tidy up or even open the curtains. The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of her phone screen.

Her reflection in the mirror told a story of exhaustion, dark circles under her eyes, her skin pale and dull. She felt as though the weight of her worry for Joker had physically anchored her to the bed.

She didn’t want to see anyone. Avoiding her friends, ignoring texts, and letting her phone calls go unanswered, she kept herself isolated. Leaving her room felt pointless when her mind was consumed by thoughts of him.

Her chest tightened every time the news flickered on in her head, imagining the cold, sterile cell he was probably in. It was a mental loop she couldn’t break out of, and it left her drained.

Y/n’s neglect of herself was becoming painfully obvious, the toll on her body undeniable. Her once-vibrant complexion had turned discoloured and lifeless, dark shadows lingering beneath her hollow eyes. Her cheekbones were more pronounced, the lack of proper nourishment leaving her looking gaunt and fragile.

Her energy levels had plummeted. Even simple tasks like standing up or walking across the room left her feeling lightheaded and weak. Her muscles ached from lying in bed for so long, and her legs felt shaky when she did manage to pull herself up.

The dehydration was catching up with her, despite the water she drank. Her lips were cracked, her skin dry and rough to the touch. Her hair hung limp and dull, reflecting the lifelessness she felt inside.

Her immune system stretched thin from stress and lack of sustenance, left her vulnerable to every chill in the air. She must have developed a slight fever that she didn’t have the strength to care about, brushing off the sweat on her brow as just another inconvenience.

Y/n’s body was screaming for help, yet her mind remained fixated on Joker. It was as if she’d become a shadow of herself, physically and mentally drained, all because the one person she cared about most was out of her reach.

Y/n lay sprawled on her bed, her body heavy with exhaustion. Her arms felt like lead, barely able to reach the half-empty water bottle sitting on her bedside table. Her fingers brushed against it weakly, but even the small effort was too much. She let out a soft, defeated sigh, her dry lips barely parting.

Her gaze, blurred and unfocused, was fixed on the ceiling when the creak of her door made her heart skip. She thought it was just another trick of her mind, her exhaustion had caused her to hallucinate sounds before. But this time, shadows fell across the dim room, and she slowly turned her head.

Her vision was too poor to make out details, the figures were just dark blurs against the soft glow of the hallway light. Panic fluttered in her chest. Was she dreaming? Or had her mind finally cracked? She blinked hard, trying to clear her sight, but the figures remained.

Then one of them stepped closer, and a familiar, gravelly voice filled the room. “Boss sent us,” Rocco said simply, his tone gruff yet somehow grounding.

Y/n’s breath hitched. It wasn’t a hallucination. These were real people, they were in her room. She managed to push herself up on trembling arms, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. How had they gotten in? The door was locked...wasn’t it? How fucking shit was this dorm’s security?

Her bleary eyes darted to the second figure, standing just behind Rocco. She didn’t recognise him, this one was new. He stayed silent, his broad frame looming in the doorway, while Rocco stepped closer.

“Damn, kid,” Rocco muttered, his voice softer now as he looked her over. “You look like hell.”

Y/n didn’t respond, her throat dry and her mind too foggy to form words. All she could do was stare at them, trying to process what was happening.

The realization hit her like a jolt. Joker. Was he okay? Did he send them to check on her? Did this mean… he was still out there? Her hands gripped the sheets beneath her tightly, desperate for answers, but too weak to demand them.

Rocco stepped closer, crouching down so his face was level with hers. His sharp features softened slightly as he took in her dishevelled state. “You’re not taking care of yourself,” he muttered, a mix of irritation and concern in his voice. “Boss wouldn’t like this. He sent us here to make sure you’re still kickin’.”

Y/n blinked slowly, her head swimming with questions, but the mention of Joker made her heart clench. Her lips moved, though no sound came out at first. She swallowed hard, wincing at the dryness in her throat before croaking, “Joker...?”

The second man, the one she didn’t recognise, stepped forward now, his arms crossed. His gaze flicked over her like he was assessing her condition. “He’s fine,” the man said curtly. “But he’s got…other things to handle right now.”

Rocco shot the man a look, clearly annoyed by his lack of tact. “What he means,” Rocco said, his tone more measured, “is that the Boss can’t exactly walk through your front door right now. So, he sent us. He wanted us to check in, make sure you’re okay, and…” He hesitated, glancing back at the other man before sighing. “...and make sure you get back on your feet.”

Y/n felt a rush of emotions, relief that Joker was alive, frustration at her own helplessness, and confusion about why these two were standing in her room like they belonged there. “How…how did you get in?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Rocco smirked faintly. “Lock wasn’t much of a challenge,” he said, jerking a thumb at the other man. “Frankie here’s got a knack for getting through doors. Don’t worry, though. We’re not here to cause trouble.”

Frankie, so that was the name of the stranger, gave a curt nod but said nothing. His presence felt imposing, but he didn’t seem hostile.

Y/n tried to sit up straighter, her body protesting with every movement. Her head swam as she forced out another question. “Why…why did he send you?”

Rocco reached over to the bedside table, grabbed her water bottle and handed it to her. “Boss cares about you, kid,” he said, his voice a little softer now. “More than you probably realise. He doesn’t like the idea of you wasting away while he’s out there handling business. Said if you don’t start taking care of yourself, he’ll have to come sort you out himself. And trust me, you don’t want that.”

Y/n took the bottle with shaky hands, her eyes wide as she processed his words. The thought of Joker sending these two to check on her, even while he was dealing with his own problems, made her chest tighten. He cared. In his own chaotic, unpredictable way, he cared.

Rocco stood up, brushing off his knees. “We’re here to help, alright? Whether you like it or not. So, drink up and get moving. Boss wouldn’t want you like this.”

Y/n hesitated, then took a small sip of the water. It was lukewarm and tasted metallic, but it was the first thing she’d managed to drink properly in days. She nodded faintly, her voice still weak but determined. “Okay.”

Rocco’s patience quickly wore thin as he watched Y/n take another feeble sip of water and sink back into the mattress. “Alright, that’s it,” he said firmly, straightening up and rolling his shoulders like he was preparing for a task he didn’t particularly enjoy. “You’re coming with us. Boss’s orders.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, panic flickering in them. “What? I can’t–” she stammered, but before she could finish, Rocco leaned down and grabbed her arm gently but insistently.

“You don’t get a say in this, sweetheart,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Boss wants you outta this bed, and that’s what’s happening.”

The other man, Frankie, sighed and moved to the other side of the bed, his expression unreadable but his stance ready to assist. “She’s not exactly in any condition to walk on her own,” he muttered.

“I can tell,” Rocco replied sharply. “That’s why we’re here. Now, up you go.” He pulled her up to a sitting position with surprising care, though his grip was unyielding. Y/n groaned, the motion making her head spin and her stomach churn.

“I can’t…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I can’t even stand.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Rocco said as if it were the simplest solution in the world. “But you’re not staying here, wasting away. Boss ’ll have my head if we leave you like this.”

Y/n tried to protest, but before she could, Frankie slipped an arm under her knees and another around her back, lifting her effortlessly out of the bed. She gasped in surprise, her body trembling from the sudden movement.

“Don’t drop me!” she cried weakly, her hands clutching at his shirt.

Frankie scoffed. “Relax.”

Rocco opened the door, stepping out first to make sure the coast was clear. “Move it, Frankie. Let’s get her to the van.”

Frankie carried her out of the room, his movements steady but brisk. The cool air in the hallway hit her like a slap, and her already fragile state made it hard to keep her eyes open. Her head lolled against Frankie’s shoulder as they made their way outside.

The van was parked at the curb, its engine idling softly. Rocco opened the back door, gesturing for Frankie to set her down. “Easy now,” he said, his tone surprisingly soft.

Frankie carefully eased Y/n into the van’s backseat, her body slumping against the upholstery. Rocco climbed in beside her, positioning her so she wouldn’t slide around during the ride. He reached over to buckle her seatbelt, muttering, “Don’t even think about trying to wiggle out of this. Boss ’ll hear about it.”

Y/n didn’t have the energy to argue. Her head rested against the window, her body aching and weak, but somewhere deep down, a flicker of curiosity sparked through the haze of exhaustion. Where was she being taken?

-

The van rumbled to a stop in a dimly lit alleyway, the oppressive gloom of the Narrows seeping in through the windows. Y/n barely stirred, her frail body sagging against the seatbelt. Rocco turned to glance at her, his expression somewhere between irritation and concern.

“We’re here,” he muttered, unbuckling his seatbelt. Frankie was already out of the van, opening the back door and reaching in to unbuckle Y/n.

“C’mon, girl,” Frankie said, his tone gruff but not unkind. “Boss wouldn’t want you sitting out here all night.”

Y/n blinked slowly, her vision still a blur. She didn’t have the strength to protest as Frankie once again lifted her, cradling her like she weighed nothing. The cold night air nipped at her skin as they exited the van.

The building in front of them was dilapidated, its bricks cracked and stained, with faint graffiti scrawled across the lower walls. The windows glowed faintly from inside, casting eerie shadows onto the narrow street.

“An apartment?” Y/n mumbled weakly, her voice barely audible.

“Temporary safe house,” Rocco said curtly, leading the way to the door. “Boss’s orders.”

Frankie adjusted his hold on her as they climbed a narrow, creaking staircase that felt like it might give way at any moment. Y/n groaned softly, her head lolling against Frankie’s chest. The exhaustion in her body made the journey feel endless, each step rattling through her fragile frame.

On the third floor, Rocco stopped in front of a battered door with peeling paint. He fished out a key, unlocking it with a click before pushing it open. The apartment inside was sparse but clean enough, furnished with the basics, a couch, a small table, a kitchenette, and a bed tucked into the corner of the single room.

Frankie carried Y/n inside, laying her carefully on the couch. She let out a faint sigh of relief as her body sank into the mattress, her muscles aching from the short journey. Rocco lingered near the door, crossing his arms as he surveyed the room.

“Not exactly five-star,” Rocco said, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “But it’ll do.”

“Boss said to keep her here and make sure she eats something,” Frankie said, stepping back and stretching his arms. “She looks like she’s about to keel over.”

“Yeah, well, she’s been like that for days, hasn’t she?” Rocco grumbled. “I’ll have a look. Can’t let her starve.”

As Y/n lay on the couch, barely able to keep her eyes open, a thought began to gnaw at the back of her mind. She hadn’t fully processed it before, but now, with Rocco and Frankie’s casual conversation, it became clear.

They were talking about him, Joker, like he was still calling the shots, like he was still in control, even though he was locked up and under 24/7 security. Her heart skipped a beat, a mixture of confusion and curiosity flooding her veins.

The implications of it all settled in her chest, heavy and unsettling. How were they in contact with him? Was he somehow orchestrating everything from behind bars? Was he pulling the strings while locked away, unable to move?

She tried to sit up, her body protesting the movement as if the world around her was spinning. The dizziness from the exertion made her head throb. She let out a shaky breath, trying to focus as she reached for the water bottle beside her. Her fingers trembled as she unscrewed the cap, the cold liquid soothing her parched throat. But the question remained.

How is he still in control? she thought, her mind racing. She hadn’t heard anything about Joker’s escape, nor did it make sense that he could have any influence from inside a high-security facility. So how? How were his goons able to move so freely?

She glanced over at Frankie and Rocco. They didn’t seem concerned, almost like it was business as usual. Rocco was leaning against the wall, checking his phone, and Frankie was off to the side, inspecting the small kitchenette. Neither of them gave any indication that they were afraid or worried about Joker's imprisonment.

Y/n felt a pit in her stomach. Was he that powerful, even locked up? She didn’t know what to believe anymore. The whole situation felt surreal like being stuck in a bad dream.

“He’s always had a plan,” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. "He always has a way."

The weight of the situation settled deeper into her chest as she realized that Joker was always three steps ahead. Even now, even when everything seemed to be falling apart, Joker had found a way to keep his reach, his control, intact.

But how much longer could he stay in control from inside a cell? How much longer before something broke? Before she broke?

She closed her eyes, trying to push the fear away, but it lingered. It always did when it came to him.

Rocco reappeared from the kitchen, holding a paper bag that crinkled loudly as he walked toward her. He tossed it onto the table with a heavy thud, then turned back to the cabinets, muttering something to Frankie under his breath. Frankie came over to the couch and crouched in front of Y/n, his gruff face softening just a bit.

“You need to eat, girl. You’re lookin’ worse than a dead man,” he said, pulling out a plastic-wrapped sandwich and a juice box from the bag.

Y/n blinked at the items as if they were foreign. It had been days since she’d eaten anything substantial, and the idea of food felt distant, almost abstract. Still, Frankie didn’t give her much choice.

“Come on,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. He unwrapped the sandwich for her and held it out. “A few bites, at least. You’re no good to anyone like this.”

Her stomach churned at the thought, but she nodded weakly. With trembling hands, she took the sandwich from him and managed a small bite. The dry bread felt foreign against her tongue, and the first swallow was like pushing a rock down her throat. But then the second bite came easier, and the third after that.

Rocco turned back around, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in his hand. “Gotta admit, didn’t expect you to be this far gone,” he said bluntly.

Frankie shot him a warning glare, but Rocco shrugged. “What? She looks like she’s been through hell.”

“She’s been through enough,” Frankie snapped, his voice lower this time. “Just shut up and let her eat.”

Y/n barely registered the exchange, too focused on the sandwich and the juice box that Frankie had handed her. The sweetness of the juice was a shock to her system, waking her up a little more as it soothed her dry throat.

“Better?” Frankie asked after a moment.

Y/n nodded faintly. “Thanks,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

“Good,” Rocco said, moving closer to the couch. He placed a bottle of water on the table beside her.

“You’ll need your strength. Don’t know what’s comin’ next, but Boss wouldn’t be happy seeing you like this.” Hearing that sent a pang through her chest. Joker.

Even when he wasn’t there, his shadow loomed large, dictating their actions. And here he was, using that power for her. Joker’s influence reached her even now, in her lowest state, orchestrating everything from behind the scenes. As unsettling as it was, a small part of her, a part she didn’t fully understand, felt comforted by it.

-

Y/n lay curled up on the worn couch, her body trembling despite the cheap oil heater buzzing weakly beside her. The warmth it offered was pitiful, barely taking the edge off the icy chill that had settled into her bones. Her skin felt clammy, her breaths uneven, and her forehead was hot to the touch. She was clearly feverish, and even in her half-conscious state, she could feel how badly her body was struggling to fight off the fatigue.

Frankie paced back and forth, running a hand through his greying hair. “She’s shivering like a damn leaf,” he muttered, glancing nervously at Rocco. “What the hell are we supposed to do? I don’t know nothin’ about takin’ care of a sick person!”

Rocco sat slumped in a chair at the dining table, his arms crossed. “What do I look like, a nurse?” he snapped, his frustration barely contained.

He glanced over at Y/n, her frail form looking smaller than ever under the thin blanket draped over her. He let out a long sigh and stood. “Alright, let’s think. Fever, right? You’re supposed to–uh–what? Cool her down? Or warm her up?”

Frankie rolled his eyes. “Both? Neither? Hell if I know! You think I went to med school?” He rubbed at his face, muttering under his breath, “Boss didn’t say nothin’ about this kind of situation.”

Rocco grumbled and approached the couch, peering down at Y/n like she was some fragile, alien creature.

“She’s shakin’ like crazy,” he said, pulling the blanket tighter around her. “What if we just...I dunno...get more blankets? Or turn the heater up?”

He leaned down and gave the old oil heater a hard smack, but it didn’t do much besides rattle noisily. “Piece of shit,” he muttered.

“More blankets?” Frankie echoed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, great plan, genius. You wanna bury her in a mountain of old fabric and hope for the best? Real top-tier care there, Dr. Rocco.”

He shook his head and started rummaging through the cabinets, clearly searching for something that might help. “Maybe there’s medicine or some kinda first aid kit around here,” he said, opening drawers with loud thuds.

Rocco scowled but didn’t argue. Instead, he grabbed a glass, filled it with water from the sink, and brought it back to the couch. He crouched down beside Y/n, nudging her shoulder gently.

“Hey, girl,” he said awkwardly, his gruffness giving way to something softer. “You gotta drink some water. Can’t let you keel over on us, alright?”

Y/n groaned faintly, her eyes fluttering open just enough to see Rocco’s concerned face hovering above her. “Can’t...move,” she mumbled, her voice weak and barely audible.

Frankie returned, holding up a bottle of aspirin triumphantly. “Found somethin’! Says it’s for fevers,” he declared.

Then he frowned, looking at the label. “Uh...how much do you give someone? One pill? Two?”

“Well, what does the box say?” Rocco grunted.

“I don’t know, the instructions have been worn off,” Frankie said, squinting at the box.

“Just give her one to start. We don’t need to knock her out cold.” He turned back to Y/n and gently pressed the glass to her lips. “Come on, drink,” he coaxed. “It’s just water.”

With effort, Y/n managed a small sip, though most of the water dribbled down her chin. Frankie handed over the aspirin, and Rocco awkwardly placed it in her mouth, tipping the glass again to help her swallow.

When she finally did, Frankie let out a relieved sigh. “Okay, good. That’s somethin’, at least.”

But the two men were clearly out of their depth, and it showed. They stood by the couch like sentries, unsure of their next move.

Frankie scratched his head, mumbling, “We need someone who actually knows what the hell they’re doin’. This ain’t our thing, man.”

Rocco nodded, his usual bravado replaced with a rare flicker of worry. “Yeah, well, until then, we keep her alive. Boss would kill us if somethin’ happened to her.”

He glanced at Y/n, who had already slipped back into a restless sleep. Her shivering continued, even with their clumsy attempts to help. “We gotta figure this out,” he muttered.

Y/n stirred on the couch, her face scrunched up. Frankie, who had been pacing near the window, noticed immediately and groaned.

“Now what?” he asked, throwing his hands in the air.

Y/n grimaced again, her lips twisting in discomfort. “That aspirin…” she murmured, her voice hoarse. “Tasted...weird. Like...really weird.” She made a faint gagging noise and stuck out her tongue, clearly unhappy with whatever lingering aftertaste it left behind.

Frankie narrowed his eyes and turned to Rocco, who was leaning against the wall. “What the hell does she mean, ‘tasted weird’? You gave her somethin’ bad?”

Rocco straightened up, looking offended. “I didn’t make the damn pills, Frankie! I just gave her what you found!”

Frankie stomped over to the kitchen counter where the small box of aspirin sat. Snatching it up, he squinted at the faded label.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” he muttered. “This thing’s...expired! Look at this! Says it went bad two years ago!” He turned the box toward Rocco, jabbing at the tiny print with his finger.

Rocco groaned, running a hand down his face. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” he muttered. “Who keeps expired meds in their place? Like, throw it out already!”

“Apparently these guys don’t care about restocking the essentials,” Frankie shot back. He threw the box onto the counter with a loud thud. “And now we probably poisoned her on top of everything else!”

“Relax, Frankie,” Rocco said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced himself. “What’s the worst expired aspirin can do? Lose some of its kick? She ain’t foamin’ at the mouth or anything, is she?”

Y/n, still curled on the couch, managed a weak glare at the two men. “You guys…are terrible at this,” she mumbled.

Frankie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah, we get it. We suck at playin’ nursemaids. But cut us some slack, huh? This ain’t exactly what we signed up for when joining Joker’s gang.”

Rocco shook his head, muttering under his breath. “Great. Boss is gonna love hearin’ we gave his girl bad pills. Just perfect.”

Y/n, too tired to engage further, closed her eyes and tried to ignore the bitter taste still lingering in her mouth.

Frankie and Rocco exchanged an exasperated look before Frankie finally grumbled, “Alright, that’s it. No more meds until we double-check this crap. I ain’t takin’ any more chances.”

“Gee, why didn’t I think of that,” Rocco muttered, though the jab lacked its usual bite.

-

Frankie and Rocco stood awkwardly around Y/n, who had drifted back into an uneasy rest on the couch.

Frankie pulled out his phone, scrolling rapidly. “Alright, lemme just Google this fever crap. Can’t be that hard, right?”

Rocco leaned over his shoulder, squinting at the screen. “What’s it say?”

“Uh…” Frankie squinted, reading aloud. “‘Keep them hydrated, plenty of water.’” He gestured at the half-empty glass on the coffee table. “Nailed that one already.”

“Barely,” Rocco muttered, rolling his eyes.

Frankie ignored him and kept reading. “‘Medications to reduce fever.’” He immediately grimaced and shoved his phone in his pocket. “Yeah, no. We ain’t doin’ that shit again.”

“Definitely not,” Rocco agreed, glaring briefly at the expired aspirin box still sitting on the counter.

Frankie pulled his phone back out, tapping on a new link. “Okay, here’s a blog post...‘hot soups help.’ See? We’re getting somewhere!”

Rocco folded his arms, unimpressed. “Hot soup, huh? What’re we supposed to do, whip that up in this dump?”

Frankie snapped his fingers. “Hold up! I saw some canned soup in the cupboard earlier. Gimme a second.”

He shuffled into the kitchen, rummaging through a cabinet, and emerged triumphantly holding a dusty can of chicken noodle soup. “Jackpot!”

Rocco pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Frankie, that thing looks older than the aspirin. You’re not feeding her that.”

“It’s soup! It’s basically immortal,” Frankie argued, waving the can around.

“No,” Rocco said firmly. “You’re not risking Boss’s girl on canned science experiments. Get your ass to the store and buy her some fresh stuff.”

Frankie groaned. “Man, come on! The store’s, like, five blocks away!”

“And?” Rocco crossed his arms, his glare cutting. “Go. And don’t come back with anything cheap.”

Muttering under his breath, Frankie grabbed his coat and stormed toward the door. “This is ridiculous. First a nurse, now a delivery guy. What’s next, a fuckin’ florist?”

Rocco just waved him off, turning back to check on Y/n as Frankie disappeared into the hallway.

Rocco sat down heavily on the chair opposite Y/n, watching her shiver even under the blanket draped over her.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t worry, he’ll be back soon,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

Y/n stirred slightly, cracking her eyes open. She looked at him, her expression groggy and confused.

“Where’d he go?” she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rocco leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Frankie’s gone to grab you some real food. Something to help with the fever.”

Y/n gave a weak nod, closing her eyes again. “Thanks…” The room fell silent except for the faint hum of the oil heater struggling to warm the space.

Rocco glanced at it, frowning. “Piece of junk,” he muttered, standing up to adjust the settings. When it didn’t do much, he huffed in frustration.

-

The door creaked open quietly, and Frankie slipped inside, juggling several heavy grocery bags. Y/n was finally asleep on the couch, bundled up in blankets. Rocco, who had been sitting nearby and keeping watch, stood up and stalked over, his brows furrowed at the sight of the bulging bags.

“What the hell is all this shit?” Rocco hissed, gesturing toward the bags as he took a couple to lighten the load.

Frankie scowled, kicking the door shut behind him. “I don’t know, man. I went to grab some canned soup like you said, but some old lady saw me standing there and decided to get involved.”

Rocco raised a brow. “What do you mean, ‘got involved’?”

Frankie set the bags down on the counter with a grunt. “She started giving me a lecture about how canned soup isn’t good enough for someone sick, then walked me around the store grabbing vegetables and spices and crap. Kept saying, ‘Make her a proper soup.’ I don’t even know what the hell that means!”

Rocco stared at him, then at the bags now spilling over with carrots, celery, onions, and random herbs. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. “You mean to tell me, instead of just heating up a can, we now gotta make soup from scratch?”

Frankie shrugged helplessly. “Apparently. Look, she was scary, okay? You try saying no to someone’s grandma when she’s lecturing you in the middle of the store.”

Rocco jaw hung open, looking at Frankie. “You have a gun..you’re 6 foot fucking something…and some little old lady scared you into making soup..”

“Hey man, I ain’t never gon’ mess with an old lady…besides, she had a heart of gold,” Frankie pouted, looking absolutely ridiculous.

Rocco muttered a string of curses under his breath as he started unpacking the bags. “Great. Just great. Now we’re chefs.”

“Hey, you’re the one who said to get her the good stuff,” Frankie shot back, grabbing a knife and a cutting board. “Guess this is what the good stuff looks like.”

Rocco glared at the pile of ingredients like it had personally offended him. “Fine. Let’s get this over with. But if you screw this up, you’re eating it.”

Together, they fumbled their way through prepping the vegetables, with a hastily Googled recipe on Frankie’s phone that neither of them could agree on.

“This one says dice the carrots, but what the hell is a dice? Like cubes?” Frankie squinted at the screen.

“Cubes? What are we, making toys? Just chop the damn things,” Rocco shot back, already wielding a knife like it was a weapon. He hacked at an onion, the uneven pieces scattering across the cutting board.

Frankie grabbed a stalk of celery, holding it whole above the pot. “Do you think we can just throw these in as is? I mean, they’ll, like…dissolve, right?”

Rocco stared at him in horror and swatted the celery out of his hands. “What the hell are you doing? You can’t just chuck that in like a log! Cut it into pieces!”

“Okay, okay, relax,” Frankie grumbled, fumbling for the knife and hacking at the celery with no regard for uniformity.

Rocco groaned, snatching the knife from him. “That’s not cutting, that’s mangling. You’re lucky she’s too sick to care what this looks like.”

It took twice as long as it should have, with constant interruptions of “Is this small enough?” and “Are you sure that goes in the pot?”

Eventually, they managed to get all the vegetables chopped into vaguely even pieces. By the time they added everything to the pot, they were both sweating and grumbling.

Frankie stirred the mixture triumphantly. “Alright, that wasn’t so bad.”

Rocco glanced over his shoulder at the recipe still open on the phone. His face fell. “You idiot. Did you even read the part where it says this has to simmer for two hours?”

Frankie froze, spoon in hand. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Two hours. Minimum.” Rocco threw his hands in the air. “We’re gonna be here all night.”

Frankie groaned, slumping against the counter. “How does anyone have the patience for this? I should’ve just stuck with the canned stuff.”

“Yeah, but now we’re committed,” Rocco grumbled, crossing his arms.

He eyed the bubbling pot, already dreading the wait. Despite their frustrations, neither of them said it out loud, but they both felt a little satisfaction in knowing they’d gone the extra mile. After all, they weren’t doing this for themselves.

-

The soup had finally been left to simmer, and the two men sat at the small table in the corner of the apartment, exhausted from their makeshift cooking adventure. Rocco had his arms crossed, leaning back in the chair, while Frankie tapped his fingers against the table impatiently.

“How long’s it been?” Frankie asked.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.”

Frankie groaned and leaned forward, resting his head on the table. “We should’ve just bought one of those instant soups. Heat it, serve it, done. Why did I listen to some random old lady?”

Rocco shot him a look. “Because you don’t have a spine, Frankie.”

The soft sound of mumbling caught their attention, and they both turned toward the couch. Y/n was stirring, her eyes fluttering open briefly before closing again. She shifted slightly, curling up tighter under the blanket.

“Think she’s gonna wake up?” Frankie whispered.

“Not if we’re lucky,” Rocco replied, though his gaze lingered on her pale face, still marked with exhaustion.

A faint bubbling noise came from the kitchen, and Frankie bolted up. “Crap, is it boiling over?”

They rushed to the pot like a couple of amateur chefs, Frankie grabbing the spoon to stir while Rocco adjusted the heat.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Rocco muttered, glaring at the pot as if daring it to betray them.

Frankie stirred a few more times before stepping back, looking genuinely relieved. “Okay, I think we’ve got it under control. Now what?”

“Now we wait. Again,” Rocco said, rubbing his face. He glanced toward the couch. “She’s still out, so at least we don’t have to explain why the kitchen smells like…well…that.”

“Yeah yeah,” Frankie muttered, leaning against the counter.

The hours dragged on as the soup slowly came together. They took turns checking the pot and whispering arguments about whether it needed more salt or if the vegetables were soft enough. It wasn’t exactly gourmet cooking, but by the time the two hours were up, the apartment smelled surprisingly good.

Frankie grabbed a spoon and tasted it, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Hey, it’s…not bad. I mean, it’s edible.”

“Edible isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement,” Rocco muttered, but he grabbed a spoon and took a taste as well.

He frowned, then nodded reluctantly. “Alright, it’s decent. Let’s see if she can actually eat it.”

They carefully ladled the soup into a bowl, Rocco holding it steady while Frankie grabbed a spoon. As they approached Y/n, still curled up on the couch, Frankie nudged her shoulder gently.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Wake up, we’ve got something for you.”

Y/n stirred, her tired eyes blinking open. She looked up at them groggily, her voice barely above a whisper. “What…is it?”

“Homemade soup,” Rocco said, setting the bowl on the small table next to her. “Don’t ask how we made it, just eat it.”

Y/n stared at the bowl suspiciously, then looked up at them. “You made this?”

“Yeah, and it took forever, so you better appreciate it,” Frankie grumbled, but there was a hint of pride in his voice.

With their help, she sat up slowly and took the bowl into her hands. The warmth of the soup felt comforting, and as she took a small sip, her eyes widened slightly. “It’s…good.”

Rocco and Frankie exchanged a look, both pretending to shrug it off, but the relief on their faces was unmistakable.

“Damn right, it is,” Frankie said, pulling a chair over to sit nearby. “Now eat up. We’re not going through that again anytime soon.”

Despite her exhaustion, Y/n managed a faint smile as she took another sip. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel quite so terrible.

As Y/n slowly worked her way through the bowl of soup, the two men hovered nearby, pretending to busy themselves but clearly watching her every move. Frankie leaned against the counter, tossing a dishrag between his hands, while Rocco pretended to scroll through his phone.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” Y/n muttered, her voice still raspy but carrying a faint note of amusement.

Frankie snorted. “Babysitting implies we actually know what we’re doing. This is more like damage control.”

Rocco smirked but didn’t look up. “Just eat. You’ve looked like a ghost for days, and it’s freaking me out.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but continued eating. The soup wasn’t just warm, it felt like it was slowly pulling her back from the brink. Despite their clumsy efforts, the two had managed to create something that didn’t just fill her stomach but soothed her.

When she finished, she set the bowl down on the table and leaned back against the couch cushions. “Thanks,” she said softly, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Don’t mention it,” Frankie said, quickly grabbing the bowl and heading to the kitchen.

Rocco sat down in the chair across from her, his arms resting on his knees. He studied her for a moment before speaking. “You’ve gotta start taking better care of yourself, you know that, right?”

Y/n cracked an eye open and gave him a weak glare. “Kinda hard when you feel like shit all the time.”

“Yeah, well, feeling like shit isn’t gonna stop the boss from tearing into us if something happens to you,” Rocco muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

The mention of Joker made her heart skip a beat, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she closed her eyes again, letting the warmth of the soup settle over her like a blanket.

Frankie returned from the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel. “Alright, since you’re fed, it’s bedtime. Doctor Google says rest is key or whatever.”

“Doctor Google?” Y/n mumbled, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“Yeah, and don’t laugh. It’s the only medical degree we’ve got around here,” Frankie shot back, tossing the towel onto the counter.

Rocco stood up, stretching. “He’s right, though. You need to sleep. We’ll be here, so don’t worry about anything, alright?”

Y/n opened her eyes briefly, glancing between the two. Despite their gruff attitudes and questionable bedside manners, she could tell they were genuinely trying to help.

“Alright,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Frankie grabbed an extra blanket from a nearby chair and draped it over her as she curled up on the couch. Rocco turned the heater up a notch, muttering something about the drafty apartment.

As they settled into their makeshift positions, Frankie lounging in the armchair and Rocco leaning against the wall, Y/n let herself drift off, the sound of their quiet banter lulling her to sleep.

For the first time in days, she didn’t feel entirely alone.

-

Rocco had just settled back into the creaky chair, giving Frankie a side-eye as he scrolled through his phone. The apartment felt oddly quiet for once, with Y/n asleep on the couch and the sound of the heater humming in the background.

But the silence was shattered when Rocco's phone rang, cutting through the stillness. He stared at the screen, confused by the number.

"Who the hell..." he muttered, before swiping the screen to answer. "Yeah?"

There was a brief moment of silence, then a familiar voice came through the phone, rough and slightly distorted, as if coming from a distance. "Rocco."

Rocco froze, eyes widening. His grip tightened around the phone. "Boss? Is that you?"

A low grunt came from the other end, the voice now unmistakable. “No, it’s Santa. Give the phone to her.”

Without wasting another second, he pushed himself out of the chair, walking over to Y/n, who was lying on the couch, her breathing slow and steady in deep sleep. He hesitated for a moment, looking at her peaceful face before shaking her gently.

“Hey, wake up. Phone’s for you,” Rocco said, his voice low.

Y/n groaned softly, stirring under the blanket, her eyelids fluttering open but still heavy with sleep.

“Mmhmm?” she mumbled, barely registering what he said, her voice thick with drowsiness.

“Take the phone,” Rocco said, pressing the phone into her hand with a small, apologetic smile.

Y/n’s eyes, still foggy with sleep, took a moment to process his words. But when she heard the familiar voice come through the phone, her heart skipped a beat.

“Hey, Bunny.”

Her eyes shot wide open at the sound of his voice, disbelief and relief flooding through her all at once. "J!" she gasped, sitting up quickly despite the remnants of sleep dragging at her.

“That’s right, Bunny.” Joker’s voice came through low, almost muffled. “Now, listen. I don’t have much time, so don’t say anything that’ll get you in trouble. No names, no details. Just keep it simple.”

“Okay...” Y/n whispered, almost in disbelief that she was hearing him. Her pulse raced in her chest.

“How you holding up? They uh..treating you okay?” Joker’s voice was rough, but there was an unmistakable thread of concern woven in, something that made her heart swell.

Y/n paused for a moment, her thoughts racing. “Yes, they’re keeping me good...I had food, water, and sleep,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, not wanting to worry him any more than he already might be.

“They feed you?” Joker repeated, his disbelief clear.

“Mhmm.” Y/n nodded even though she knew he couldn’t see her.

"And you lived?" Joker’s voice became incredulous, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“It was really good, actually! I swear!" Y/n chuckled softly, her mood lightening just hearing his voice, even if it was through a phone call. "I don't know what the hell they did, but it was, like...homemade soup or something.”

There was a pause on the other end. “Homemade soup?” Joker’s voice was tinged with amusement. “Jesus Christ, Bunny, what the hell’s going on over there?”

Y/n laughed again, feeling a little lighter as the conversation continued. She couldn’t believe how badly she’d missed him, how much she needed to hear his voice. Even with all the danger and chaos swirling around them, this small moment made everything feel somewhat normal again.

“What have you been doing, Bunny, hmm?” Joker’s voice dropped an accusatory tone, his words sharp yet tinged with concern. “Cause you ain’t been taking care of yourself.”

Y/n winced, guilt bubbling in her chest. “I know…I just haven’t been feeling great,” she muttered, her words barely escaping her lips.

“That’s no excuse to not look after yourself,” Joker snapped, though his voice softened quickly after, as if trying to hide the edge of frustration.

Y/n’s shoulders slumped, the weight of his words sinking in. “I understand…” She paused, looking down at the blanket wrapped around her, picking at the fibers.

“How is everything there?” she asked, wanting to divert the conversation away from her.

“How you’d expect a police station to be like,” Joker replied with a nonchalant chuckle, as if it was just another ordinary day. “No worries, Doll, I’m a frequent flyer here. They’ll ask me questions until they get tired, then send me right back off to Arkham.”

Y/n’s stomach twisted at the mention of Arkham. “What?” Her voice cracked, fear creeping into her chest.

“Don’t worry about it, Bunny,” Joker reassured, his tone light despite the underlying danger of his words. “I’ll be out before that happens.” He let out a chuckle, like it was all just a game, but it did little to ease the knot in Y/n’s stomach.

Her mind raced, trying to grasp the weight of what he was saying, but it didn’t add up. How could he sound so calm about all of this?

“What else is going on?” she asked, forcing her voice to stay steady.

“Well, they keep asking about your car,” Joker said, the amusement slipping into his voice again.

“They just won’t believe me when I tell them the car’s not being used for some heist or whatever, but my dear Bunny’s.” He lingered on the words, a playful hint beneath his serious tone. “They think I’m some kind of Joker.”

Y/n chuckled nervously, though it didn’t fully reach her eyes. “Well, from their point of view, I get it,” she said, rubbing her temple in a half-hearted attempt to ease the headache that had been gnawing at her for days.

In the background of the call, Y/n could hear a voice growling from a distance. "Okay, that's enough phone time for you!"

"Ooh, looks like the coppers want me," Joker's voice rang through the phone, still light-hearted despite the gravity of the situation. "Take care of yourself, Bunny. Get Frankie to go buy you an ice cream, you deserve it."

Y/n’s heart sank a little, knowing the call was ending. “Okay, bye J…” she murmured softly, a twinge of sadness in her voice as she reluctantly let go of the connection.

“Mwah!” Joker’s voice perked up, the sound of a kiss sent through the phone before the line clicked dead.

Y/n stared at the phone in her hand for a moment, her chest heavy. She handed it back to Rocco without saying another word, her gaze wandering over to Frankie, who had been quietly watching her.

“Joker said you have to go get me an ice cream,” she said, almost sheepishly.

Frankie blinked, eyes wide in disbelief. “Come on!” he groaned, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’m ain’t your personal ice cream runner, you know that?”

Y/n let out a soft chuckle despite herself, the weight of the situation lightening just a little bit. “He said I deserve it,” she insisted, giving him a small, playful look.

Rocco snorted in the background, clearly trying to hide his own amusement, but Frankie just shook his head, clearly not amused by the sudden ice cream errand he was apparently now obligated to run.

“Fine,” Frankie muttered, clearly out of options, “But only ‘cause boss said so.” He turned towards the door, grabbing his jacket. "Don't expect me to get you anything fancy."

Frankie stormed out of the apartment with a grumble, muttering about how he was too old for this kind of nonsense. Y/n couldn't help but smile a little, even though the sadness still lingered in the pit of her stomach.

Rocco leaned against the counter, arms crossed as he observed her. "You good?" he asked, his tone soft but concerned.

Y/n nodded slowly, though she wasn’t sure how convincing it was. "I will be," she said, her voice quieter than she intended.

"Just…it’s hard, you know? Hearing his voice and then having to hang up." She paused, looking at the door where Frankie had just left. "I just feel…I don’t know. Like I’m just waiting for something to happen."

Rocco gave a nod, his expression unreadable. "I get it. But he’s not gonna let them keep him for long. You know how the Boss is." He seemed to try lighten the mood.

Y/n sighed, leaning back against the couch, wrapping her arms around herself. "I hope you're right," she murmured.

She closed her eyes, trying to push the thoughts of Joker being locked up, of everything that might go wrong, out of her mind.

After a few moments of silence, Rocco sighed and walked over to the window. "You need to rest. Frankie will be back soon, and when he gets back, you can get some real sleep. We’ve got you covered here."

Y/n didn’t argue. The exhaustion was creeping back in, and the warmth of the couch was almost too inviting. "Yeah," she whispered, sinking further into the cushions, "maybe just for a little while."

Wasn’t long till Frankie finally returned, looking both annoyed and tired, two containers of ice cream in his hands.

"Alright, alright," he muttered, placing the tubs on the coffee table with a huff. "Ice cream, just like the Boss ordered."

Y/n blinked, her exhaustion making her movements sluggish as she looked at the ice cream. "Thanks," she said quietly, trying to muster up a smile, though still tired. "I didn’t think you’d actually do it. But…why do you have two?"

“Like hell I’m gonna do all this work without reward,” Frankie said, lounging back while opening his tub of ice cream.

"Alright, you two. Eat your ice cream, then you get back to sleep." Rocco said, pointing at Y/n.

Y/n finally allowed herself a tiny laugh, something genuine this time, as she took a spoonful of the ice cream. It wasn’t much, but for now, it was enough.

-

It had been only a few hours since Y/n had finished the ice cream and drifted into sleep. The apartment was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that settles in before something disruptive happens. Suddenly, the front door burst open with a thunderous crash, slamming against the wall so hard that it rattled the cheap picture frames hanging nearby.

Y/n jolted awake, heart racing as she instinctively sat up on the couch. Disoriented and still half-asleep, she blinked at the doorway, trying to process what was happening.

“What the hell?” she muttered, her voice hoarse from exhaustion and lingering sickness.

Standing in the doorway, framed by the dim hallway light, was the one and only Joker. His grin stretched wide, his green hair slightly disheveled, and his eyes sparkling with chaotic energy. He threw his arms out, as if putting on a grand show for an audience of one.

“Ta-da!” he exclaimed, his voice dripping with that unnerving mix of charm and madness.

Y/n blinked again, certain she was either dreaming or hallucinating. “J?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat.

Joker’s grin widened as he sauntered into the apartment. “In…the…flesh, Bunny,” he said, spreading his arms wide before giving a mock bow. “Miss me?”

Rocco and Frankie stumbled out of the kitchen, both looking like they’d seen a ghost. “Boss?!” Rocco exclaimed, his voice cracking. “How the hell did you–”

“Details, details!” Joker interrupted, waving a gloved hand dismissively. “Do I look like a man who lets a little thing like prison keep him down?”

He spun on his heel to face Y/n again, his expression softening just a fraction. “But you, Bunny…you’ve been naughty.”

Y/n stared at him, still trying to wrap her head around his sudden appearance. “How are you here…?” she started, but her words trailed off as he strode over to her, crouching down so they were at eye level.

“Now, now,” Joker said, tilting his head as he studied her sickly face. “We’ll get to that later. First, we need to talk about you. You look like you’ve been run over by a bus, Bunny. Frankie and Rocco been slacking on their uh…babysitting duties?” He shot the two men a glare over his shoulder, making them both stiffen.

“Hey, we’ve been taking care of her!” Frankie protested, gesturing toward the empty ice cream container on the coffee table. “She ate, she rested, we even made soup!”

“Soup.” Joker repeated, raising an eyebrow. “My Bunny eating your soup. Yeah, I heard about that little endeavour.” He turned back to Y/n, his gloved hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. “But still, you’ve got some explaining to do.”

Y/n felt her throat tighten as she looked into his intense gaze. “J, I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker leaned in closer, his grin turning devilish. “Bunny, I told you before. I’m gonna come back for you.”

Y/n didn’t have time to process Joker’s words before he stood up, his energy buzzing like static in the room. He clapped his hands together, making both Rocco and Frankie flinch.

“Alright, boys, let’s have a chat,” he said, his tone shifting from playful to commanding. “What’s the state of this little hideout? Security tight? Supplies stocked? Or have you two been playing house while my Bunny’s been rotting away?”

Frankie looked at Rocco, who reluctantly spoke up. “We’ve done everything you asked, boss. She’s been fed, rested, and kept safe. No one’s sniffing around. We’re good.”

“Safe,” Joker repeated, his tone skeptical as he paced the room. “And yet my Bunny looks like she’s one sneeze away from passing out again. Safe doesn’t mean a damn thing if she’s not healthy.” He whipped around to face them, his eyes blazing. “So, what’s the plan, hmm? How are you two fixing this?”

“We’ve been doing what we can!” Frankie interjected. “Soup, meds, ice cream, what else are we supposed to do?”

Joker laughed, the sound sharp and grating. “Oh, Frankie, Frankie, Frankie…You don’t fix her with ice cream and soup. You fix her by making sure she never gets like this in the first place!”

He pointed at Y/n, who was watching the exchange in stunned silence. “You let her get sick, and that’s the problem.”

Y/n finally found her voice. “J, stop,” she said, her tone firm despite the exhaustion weighing her down. “They’ve been taking care of me. It’s not their fault.”

Joker’s gaze snapped back to her, his expression softening slightly. “Defending the little guys, huh, Bunny?” He crouched down again, his gloved hand resting lightly on her knee. “But you’ve gotta take care of yourself too. Can’t have my Bunny falling apart on me.”

“I’m trying,” Y/n said quietly, her cheeks flushing under his intense gaze.

Joker straightened up, his manic grin returning. “Good. Because I didn’t bust out of that hellhole just to find you looking like an inch away from death.”

He turned to Rocco and Frankie. “You two, make yourselves useful. Get this place cleaned up, get some decent food stocked, and find a real doctor. None of this DIY crap.”

“Doctor?” Frankie repeated, wide-eyed. “How are we supposed to–”

Joker silenced him with a glare. “Figure it out. Or do I need to babysit you, too?”

The two men exchanged a nervous glance before scurrying off, muttering plans under their breath.

Joker turned back to Y/n, his expression unreadable. “Now, Bunny, let’s get you feeling better. And then…” His grin widened, full of dangerous promises. “We’ve got work to do.”

The apartment settled into an odd rhythm. Rocco was scrubbing dishes in the kitchen, muttering complaints about how Frankie always left things half-cleaned. Frankie lounged on the couch, flipping through channels, just waiting to jump up if Joker barked an order. Y/n, wrapped in a blanket, sat on a chair by the window, her fever finally subsiding.

Joker was at the table, sketching out something on a crumpled napkin, his gloved fingers moving with quick precision as he muttered half-formed plans to himself.

It felt oddly normal, like a strange little family of sorts. The heater hummed faintly in the corner, its warmth mixing with the faint scent of leftover soup lingering in the air. Every now and then, Joker would glance up at Y/n, his gaze softening before snapping back to his frantic scribbling.

But outside, across the street, perched on the rooftop of a rundown building, someone was watching. The figure was cloaked in shadows, blending seamlessly with the dark sky. Through binoculars, the scene inside the apartment unfolded in perfect clarity.

The faint glow of the heater, the flickering light from the TV, and the exaggerated gestures of Joker as he spoke animatedly to himself, all of it was observed in meticulous silence.

The man adjusted his grip, the faint outline of a gloved hand catching a stray glint of moonlight. A gust of wind ruffled the long edges of their cape, but they remained unmoving, a silent sentinel above the chaos below.

Their focus lingered on Y/n, her eyes closed as she slept on the run down couch. Then it shifted to Joker, who leaned back in his chair, throwing a mocking laugh toward Frankie.

A voice crackled softly in his earpiece, almost inaudible against the city’s distant hum. “Are you going to move in, sir?”

The man’s jaw tightened. No response.

His gaze returned to Joker, whose grin widened as he shoved his napkin sketch across the table for Rocco to examine. The man’s grip on the binoculars tightened, his shadowed silhouette growing even stiller, waiting for the right moment to strike.

-

A/N: Yep, very much on the shorter side, but got through it, lol.

I enjoyed writing this one, it was a little fun on to write for me, just Y/n getting treated by Joker's incompetent goons

Hopefully it will pick up in the next chapter (considering how I ended this one 👀)

Thank you for reading 💚

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Insurgency: Long Live The Queen

Summary: A totalitarian regime reigns over a South American country in which the virus is being distributed to its citizens at the pretense of a “cure.” Leon was sent to retrieve a sample of the virus mutation when he stumbled upon a group of anti-government activists whose main goal is to overthrow their government. Will Leon help the cause or will he fall down with the government as well?

Warning: Mentions of mature themes. Read at your own discretion. Slow burn. Age gap (Leon is 38 and reader is 21+). Reader is female.

Word count: 5,105

A/N: how we feeling about this so far? :3

[part one][part two][part three][part four][part five][part six][part seven][part eight][bonus]

“The whole question here is: Am I a monster, or a victim myself?” - Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment.

Leon was put into a room after you guys reached La Sénte. He was given food and water as well as a bed for him.

What a nice welcome, he thought.

You were currently in a meeting room with Yarina and other Insurgents.

“The president is on to us. She knows we’ve been the ones targeting her military. From now on, we’ll be facing death head on. This is no time for hesitations. We must act or die,” Yarina stated as she looked down at the papers scattered on the table.

“Yarina, we can’t risk losing people. We will be outnumbered if we want to go to the city states-“

“Enough,” Yarina slams her fists on the table, “We cannot sit back and watch as President Mendez treats our lives as rag dolls. Yes, there’s a chance we will die but I’d rather die fighting than die a coward.”

Silence overtook the room, the atmosphere was tense and heavy. Ever since the President had broadcasted the message of public executions, everyone’s been at edge. Including you.

“Why don’t we use the American?” One of the insurgents spoke up, he seemed to be the secretary of Yarina. “How do we use him exactly?” She asked.

“A life for a life. We send a message to President Mendez demanding that she freed all the captured civilians. In return, we’ll give him to her-“

“A swap,” you interjected. “It won’t work-“ you turned to look at Yarina, “Listen, those soldiers- they’re nothing like the ones we’ve seen. San Bandero is protected by tanks and endless troops. We’ll die the second we step foot there.”

Yarina hums and brought a hand to her chin as she thought hard.

“We’ll split up,” she pointed to the map, “Half of the available Insurgents will storm right into the city with our bomb artillery. I’m talking tanks and rocket launchers. The other half will go underground and perform an evacuation for the remaining citizens who are unharmed. I want this to be quick and efficient. We have no room for mistakes. Prioritize the children.”

Everyone nodded and began to scurry out of the meeting room to prepare for battle. “Y/n, can I talk to you for a second?”

You stopped walking and walked back towards her.

“I heard about what you did for Josue, that was really heroic of your part,” she said quietly.

“It was nothing, really,” you muttered back with a short nod.

Yarina chuckled and patted your back, “Humble too. You never fail to surprise me.”

She cleared her throat before continuing, “Listen, I didn’t just held you back to talk about your accomplishments.”

You could only nod slowly in silence, “I actually wanted to let you know that if I were to die tonight… I want you as our leader.”

Your eyes widened at her statement and you felt your throat run dry, “Yarina… don’t say that. How are you sure you’re-“

“Y/n. There is no guarantee that I’ll make it alive after the mission. The President is on to us and once she finds out that I’m the leader, she’ll kill me.”

You could only stare at her in silence. What she said was true. If President Mendez were to find out that Yarina was the leader of the rebelling group then she’ll most definitely die.

“Okay,” you nodded and agreed quietly, “I’ll do my best to be a good leader.”

Yarina smiled softly and squeezed your arm, “Good, now let’s get this mission over with.”

-

Leon heard the sounds of footsteps through the halls.

They must be making their next move, he thought.

He wondered how exactly everything started. Getting captured by a group of people who want to overthrow the government wasn’t really on his to-do list. But alas here he was.

The food was way better than other times he’s been to other missions. He had to give you guys credit for having edible bread and good chicken.

-

You were put into the group of Insurgents who will storm right into the city. Currently, you seating in a car with other members. Weapons in hands and boxes full of explosives ready to be used.

As you were driven there, the sun began to set. You’ve gotten used to fighting in the dark. It was better since the soldiers’ helmets didn’t really allow them to see at night. This was your advantage.

As you neared the city entry, everyone jumped out of the car and proceeded to blend in with the trees and bushes that surrounded the area.

Hiding behind a bush, you kept watch as the person next to you took out their rocket launcher and shot the city.

Multiple bombs were set off, each hitting a different thing. Buildings, tanks, soldiers- anything they can shoot. The ground shook and insurgents ran out of their hiding spot and began to attack the confused soldiers.

Your weapon ready in your hand, you shot the soldiers in front of you. You managed a few headshots. It was good that you had improved your skills ever since this whole thing started, it was good you were becoming alive.

-

As the insurgents in the sewer system began to drive the citizens of San Bandero out, they felt the ground shook. They needed to get out of there quickly before the roads collapsed on top of them.

“Madam President, there’s an attack in San Bandero. A group of rebels are shooting out soldiers and bombing out buildings. Do you want-“

“No,” the President cut the assistant off. She was angry, more angry than anyone has ever seen her. She stood up and walked towards the window to see. And sure enough, fire and smoke came out of San Bandero.

“Find their leader and bring them to me. I will end this once and for all,” the President said as she walked away from the window and back to her desk.

-

You and Yarina were fighting back to back as the soldiers tried to pounce at you both.

“Fuck! I’m out,” Yarina exclaimed as she tried to shoot with her gun but no bullets came out.

You took Yarina by the arm and dragged her into a collapsed building, giving both of you enough time to reload your weapons.

Yarina was busy reloading her gun as you kept watch, “Yarina…” your eyes widened as you stared at the TV on the tower. Yarina grew confused and then looked out towards the TV as well.

It was a video footage of the sewers- the citizens walking while the insurgents helped them out.

“Citizens of Pruye, let this be a reminder that traitorous acts do not go unpunished. Everyone in relation to rebellion will face consequences,” the President spoke.

Suddenly, a bomb fell down from a plane and into the roads. You and Yarina took cover behind a fallen piece of debris. The ground shook tremendously as heat and light took over.

You couldn’t hear anything for a good minute, only the constant ringing. You peeked at the scene and saw that the bomb had fallen right on top of the people evacuating. Your eyes trailed towards the TV and couldn’t help but let out a soft sob.

Children, women, men and insurgents lying dead on the floor. No trace of life after the explosion. Smoke and ashes filled the air and your hearing got back.

You heard Yarina scream and turned your head over your shoulder to find Yarina being taken away by two soldiers, “¡¡Come mierdas- todos ustedes!!”

You were about to start running towards her but another soldier lunged at you, pinning you the ground. You gripped their wrist and tried to not let them stab with the knife they had in their hands. With as much energy you could muster, you harshly threw the soldier off of you and shot them in the head with your gun.

You looked back at where Yarina was last seen but she was gone. Panic and anxiety coursed through you. You didn’t want to think about it. But you knew Yarina was going to die.

-

It’s been three hours since Yarina got captured. The remnants of San Bandero were the only thing that remained of what was once a lively city. Now it was just debris and dead bodies all around.

Some insurgents were being treated for their wounds and others were patrolling the streets. You were sitting down the sidewalk as you contemplated what to do.

It wasn’t until the TV on the tower turned on and President Mendez spoke,

“Citizens of Pruye, with every heartbreak comes good news. Although a city of ours has been destroyed, we too, have something that is worth destroying for those who oppose me.”

The camera pans to Yarina kneeling down before a soldier who has a gun pointed at her forehead. Her hands were tied behind her back as she had a piece of cloth around her mouth, gagging her.

“Yarina…” you whispered as you stood up and stared at the screen.

“Let this be a lesson for all. You cannot win a helpless fight,” the President continued.

The soldier hooked his finger around the trigger all while Yarina maintained eye contact with him. She didn’t fear death, she wasn’t scared in that moment. Yarina is a smart person, she’s known all along that by starting this rebellion she’d face her ultimate death. Not once did she flinch nor did she beg for mercy.

She took a deep breath and let her body fall to the ground after the soldier pulled the trigger. The bullet penetrating her skull, sucking the life out of her. A poodle of blood surrounded her head as she died with her eyes opened.

Gasps and screams were heard from the other insurgents around you. You, yourself, felt anger. Anger at yourself, anger at the government, anger at the whole world. But beneath all that anger, was a girl who feared and cried. She was hurt- you were hurt. And nothing is this world could do anything to settle the turmoil inside you.

-

Leon was brought to the meeting room right after everyone reached base. News of Yarina’s death reached everyone, including him.

You stood at the center of the table, the proclaimed new leader. Your whole demeanor changed, you were serious and angry. Your eyes held a pain that only Leon could guess and relate to, because he also knew what it felt like to lose people right in front of your eyes.

He didn’t say anything and allowed the insurgents to pull him in front of the table.

“Change of plans,” you started as you began to motion for everyone around the table, including Leon. He raised a brow but obliged.

“Everyone knows San Jolonia has medical supplies and weapons we can use. If we are going to fight Mendez, we must be ready,” your brows were pinched together and your tone was serious and a little terrifying to some.

“But San Jolonia has been abandoned. The President ordered for people to leave the city,” one of the insurgents said. You nodded, “I know, hence why I need to take this opening and take as much as we can- guns, medicine, food, clothes. I won’t let anything go to waste.”

“Wait… you’ll go by yourself? Y/n I don’t think that’s safe, you saw what happened to-“

“I know,” you mumbled and stared down at the map in the center of the table, “San Jolonia is abandoned. Plus, the American is coming with me.”

The insurgent’s eyes widened and Leon only stared at you with mild shock.

“Y/n- you can’t trust him. What if he-“

“If I wanted to kill her, I would’ve done so already,” Leon interjected. He stared at you and you stared back, the tension high.

“I saw what happened to one of your people,” Leon continued just a little bit softer. The atmosphere turned solemn and some insurgents looked away as he began to talk about Yarina.

Leon sighed, “I want to help.”

You furrowed your brows and narrowed your eyes in skepticism, “Why?”

“Because no one should deal with this type of control. You are fighting against a dictator and you’ll need all the help you can get…” he exhaled and looked away briefly, “I’ve seen people die in front of me as well. Feeling helpless and unable to do anything to save everyone… it’s a shitty feeling.”

Your face fell and you nodded slowly, he looked back at you from across the table, “Let me join you. If there’s anyway I can help, I’ll take it. No more innocent lives need to die.”

He was right, in a way. If you want to bring down the government, you’ll need help. And Leon was an American soldier. They’re known to be ruthless and strong. It would a great asset to have him.

“Okay,” you nodded, “untie him.”

An insurgent went behind Leon and untied his hands. He massaged his wrists and then looked at you.

“You and I are leaving tonight, do not be late,” it was the last thing you told him before you left the room.

-

You waited for Leon at the gate, it was dark outside. The night breeze flowing gently through the trees and grass. Leon approached you as he was checking his gun.

"You ready?" you asked him before opening the gate. He nodded at you, "Yeah, let's get this over with."

Since it was nighttime, you decided not to use a vehicle. It was dangerous already if the soldiers were to notice a vehicle roaming around, then they'd most likely shoot you. So, you settled on foot.

As you and Leon walked through the forest, he couldn't help but make small talk with you.

"So..." he started quietly as he pushed some branches out of his face.

"So?" you mumbled as you led the way, "Whatever you want to say, just say it."

He hummed and chuckled faintly behind you, "Aren't you the nice one..." He shook his head and walked beside you.

"Listen, I don't doubt your skills or anything..."

"But?" You raised a brow as you glanced at him before looking back at the forest.

"But don't you think you should... take a break? I mean- a lot has happened to you and not taking the time to process what just happened can cause you to-"

You stopped and turned to face him, "I didn't ask for a therapist. I'm fine- we need to push forward."

He sighed and watched as you walked ahead of him. He sighed and followed behind you.

-

You both reached the outskirts of San Jolonia, abandoned and ruined. Must've been President Mendez's doing.

"Don't stray off too far," you said as you walked towards the entrance of the city state, "I don't you to get lost so just keep close."

Leon nodded and silently walked behind you. It was completely silent, except for the sound of your footsteps. The night was cold and the air was soft. You walked towards an abandoned pharmacy and began to stuff your bag with as many things as possible. Leon stood behind you, keeping watch in case something were to come out.

There was a strange peace between the two of you. Like as if both of you already knew what the other thought. When you're involved in a battle, it can help bring people together.

And Leon couldn't help but feel sympathy for you. You were young, too young to be in something like this. Sure, wanting to fight for your freedom is a noble cause. But he also understands the pain that comes with it. He's conflicted. He wants to help in two ways- wants to fight alongside you but he also wants to avoid a war. But you seem set on the idea of war and there's nothing in his power that can change that.

You weren't dumb, you knew Leon thought this. It was written in his face. The man had a great sense of justice and only cared for the lives of the unfortunate. If you had to guess, you'd say he probably feels a lot of guilt. A guilt that kept on piling up as the years went by.

"We should camp out, it's getting late," You broke the silence and walked towards another abandoned building.

One of its walls was collapsed while parts of the ceiling were missing. You stepped inside the ruined building and began to set up a fire. Leon was too far behind, he walked slowly as his eyes looked around. It wasn’t everyday that he would get pulled into events like this.

After you started a fire, you sat in front of it and began to pull out some food you brought, “Hungry?”

Leon looked at you and shook his head no, “I’m good, thanks.” He went over to sit next to you as you shrugged, “Suit yourself,” you muttered under your breath before you took a bite out of a piece of bread.

Leon stared at the fire in silence. He was aware of the occasional glances you’d throw him but he hasn’t said anything, yet.

You sighed and looked back at the fire, remaining in silence once again.

“Why are you here?” You mumbled and looked at him.

“You told me to come-“

“That wasn’t what I meant,” you cut him off. “What made you come to this place?”

He looked back down at you before shrugging faintly and looking back at the fire, “Got sent here. Wasn’t really my choice.”

His voice was quiet and the light from the fire highlighted his features. You never actually sat down to get a good look at him but now that were, you couldn’t help but think hoe handsome he was. His foggy blue eyes piercing down at the flames as his dark fringe fell down the sides of his face. His stubble had been growing for a while- maybe even before he got sent here.

You exhaled softly and looked back at the fire, “So you were forced…”

He nodded, “Yep. I mean, it’s also partly my fault in a way. I work for the government and I get these… missions. Shits crazy when life hits you with the consequences of your actions, don’t you think?”

“I guess…” you mumbled and looked down at the bread in your hands, “So, you’re like a personal soldier or something?”

Leon chuckled and looked at you for a brief moment, “You’ve been watching way too many American movies.”

This time, you smiled softly and looked back at him, “What can I say? You Americans are the leaders of entertainment.”

That caused him to smile back, “Good point…” he exhaled softly before looking back at the fire, “But no. I’m not a personal soldier or whatever. I’m just an agent. I work in the defense department, lots of fighting.”

You hummed quietly and looked back at the fire in silence for a moment before speaking up in a cautious tone, “Was it your dream to become an agent?”

Leon felt his body freeze at that question. He blinked slowly as his expression fell slightly and then looked at you with a pained expression, “No, it’s not.”

Your own expression mimicked his as he continued, “I wanted to be a cop. Like the ones in Brooklyn 99 or Chicago P.D. But after…” he quickly trailed off, deciding whether or not he could tell you about Raccoon City.

“After?” You asked,

“After Raccoon City,” he replied quietly.

You were aware of what happened in Raccoon City. It made global news how the U.S. nuked it’s own people. But no one knew as much as Leon and you could tell that it left him with a big weight on his shoulders.

“When I escaped Raccoon City, my whole life changed… I was no longer the 21 year old rookie cop,” his gaze trailed on, no long focusing on the fire. Right now, he was somewhere else.

“I met this girl, when the whole Raccoon City thing started, she was like 10 or 11- and I couldn’t help but feel… anger. Not at her, obviously, but at everyone else. Children died that day, sisters… brothers… everyone died and I couldn’t save them,” he inhaled sharply,

“It felt like everyone moved on and I’m still stuck in that same fucking time-loop…” he looked down at you, “Not a day goes by where I don’t dream about it. About everything.”

You stared back at him and watched as his eyes told the story. His raw emotions emanated from within, “To this day, I still see them. Every figure and shadow of what remained of that goddamn city. The guilt to not have been able to help… it hurts more than anything in the world.”

He turned to look back at the fire in silence. You’ve never seen someone so hurt. Although it took you by the surprise, you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. All those years that went by and he’s still in the same place.

“Is that why you’re helping us? Because you don’t want to feel guilt?” You asked quietly.

He nodded, “If I can help… I wouldn’t let the opportunity pass by. I’ll take hold of whatever chance I get to save people.”

You stared at him for a moment in silence. It was very noble of him basically risking his life for people- dangerous but very noble.

"You know," you started quietly, "I didn't even know how to fight before.. all of this even started." Leon raised his brow at you and then chuckled. He shook his head and stared back at you, "I can tell. When we first fought, you had so many openings."

You rolled your eyes at him and then looked back at orange flames, "Give me a break. I was just some random girl working in a canteen... before chaos took place," memories of when the soldiers first came with their tanks filled your mind. You sat there in silence before finally saying something. If he basically trauma dumped on you then why shouldn't you as well?

"My brother died from a soldier," you mumbled softly as you fiddled with the bread, "He was out with his friends one night and some soldiers came up to him. They tried to arrest him but he resisted and eventually... he got shot."

The words barely came out of your mouth. It was painful to rethink about all of the deaths that happened, but Leon knew that. He understands the pain.

"I'm sorry about your brother," he mumbled. You swatted your hand in the air before looking back at him, "He wasn't the only one I lost. I lost my two friends from my job... we got bombed and one of them got squashed by a building and the other... bled to death..."

Leon remained silent as he listened to you. He may not have been there when all of that happened, but he knew the pain.

A dry chuckle escaped your lips, "And now Yarina is dead, and I became the leader of her group... I feel like life is mocking me. It's like, 'Hey! You lost your friends but don't worry! You'll lose more people'... These types of battles don't go well- i know that. But a part of me wishes that i should've just left. Left for America for a better future... Instead, I'm stuck here leading a rebellion." You took a bite out the bread and got quiet. Leon was just watching you, reading you. He could tell you were in a lot of pain, more pain than you believe.

He sighed and looked back at the fire, "Life's been shitty to the both of us, huh?"

The ends of your lips curled up slightly as you nodded, "Pretty much."

"You look young... life can get better for you, trust me," he mumbled softly.

"I don't feel young. Does it ever actually get better?" you asked as you turned your head to look at him.

He looked back at you and shook his head, "No, it doesn't... but you learn to live with it."

"I don't want to live with it... I want to forget everything ever even happened. I want to live a normal life..."

Leon looked at you with sad eyes, "But that's not the case, is it? You can dream all you want but the hard truth will always drag you back to reality... and it's a reality you must live in."

You stared into his eyes for a moment in silence as he stared back at you. The atmosphere was complicated. One minute you were cautious of him and then the next you express your inner emotions to him. And now the tension was high. For what? You don't know but you could swear you saw his eyes drift down to your lips.

It's not like you were a virgin, you had your own experiences. But yet, you felt something starting to build inside you and you could almost see it in him as well. Feelings were growing when they shouldn't be.

Your eyes drifted down to his and you leaned a little closer. But your subconscious mind pulled you back. You turned your head away, "We shouldn't..." you whispered.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes lingering on your lips, "Says who?"

"This is wrong. It feels wrong... I mean, we're in the middle of an incoming war. Is it even okay?"

Leon brought his hand to your cheek and gently forced you to look back at him, "You're not killing anybody. It's okay," he whispered as his thumb caressed your cheek.

You swallowed and allowed him to gently pull you towards him. You closed your eyes and felt his breath on your face as he brought you two together.

His lips landed on yours in a soft kiss. Lips so soft and tender despite the environment. He kissed you gently and brought you closer as you rested your hands on his shoulders. His free hand traveling to your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze. You gasped softly against his lips and he took the opportunity to bring his tongue inside your mouth. His tongue entangled itself with your tongue. It felt so intimate yet so calm. He was kissing you as if he didn't want to hurt you. You've been hurt far too much already but this kiss felt like a band-aid on top of your scars.

He pulled apart to catch his breath, eyes opening to look at your face. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were already staring at his. He brushed some hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear. There was a moment of silence as the two of you just sat there staring at each other.

"Rest," he whispered, "We still have a lot of things to do tomorrow."

You nodded slowly and laid down on your side, giving your back to Leon. You closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Leon watched as you fell asleep, he took off his jacket and laid it on top of you. So many thoughts lingered in Leon's mind but he also had questions about your previous conversation.

He knew death was inevitable but seeing everyone- including you- fight with so much resolve made him believe that you had the opportunity to do something he couldn't.

To save people.

He wasn't jealous or mad, rather, he felt a sense of guilt. He didn't want to see you die. Leon wanted to see you and the rest of your people overthrow the government. He beg the heavens above to let you live just a little bit longer if it meant seeing you free this country.

He'd plead to whoever.

-

An announcement alarm went off and the TV from the tower turned on. Flashing images of people lined up, kneeling down with bags over their heads, with soldiers behind them pointing their guns at their heads.

You woke up as stared at the screen, which Leon did was well. The two of you watched as the soldiers began to shoot the people one by one. Their bodies falling limp against the floor and letting the blood pool around them.

Your heart felt heavy and you tried to move but couldn't. You were frozen in place.

"We've captured more traitors who must pay the price for their treason," President Mendez said.

You felt anger. Some were children.

In a fit of anger, you took your gun and dashed out of the ruined building you were in. Leon followed behind you, "Wait- where are you going?"

You ignored him and kept walking. He ran behind you and pulled your arm to stop you, "Y/n..."

Eyes welling up with tears of anger, you looked at him with so much anger, "Those were kids. And she's killing them like pieces in a game. I need to do something-" you harshly pulled your arm away from him and ran towards the tower. Leon quickly caught up to you and hooked his arm around your waist. He hoisted you up in the air and you thrashed in his hold.

You cried. Sobbed and screamed in anger. The once silent abandoned city was now filled with your angry screams.

"Let me go!" You struggled against him, but he didn't move. He knew you were going through a meltdown, and it wasn't safe for you to act in a fit of anger.

"I said let me go!!... let me go," your head fell forward as he slowly put you down on the floor. You clung to him as you cried loudly. You were so angry and hurt. This was the last straw for you.

It was heartbreaking, really. There was nothing you could do except watch as these innocent people died. President Mendez won this battle but you vowed to yourself that you'll win this war.

War.

You declared war.

-

Both you and Leon walked back to base. Something changed in you as you walked through the halls and towards the meeting room.

You slammed your fists on the table, "Send a message to the president," you started with anger on your tone and face.

"Tell her that tomorrow morning, we will start a war. And we will win this war."

The other insurgents looked at you and then at Leon who stood behind you. They all stood still and you only got more angry.

"I said- send her a fucking message that says we declare war on her. Now."

[kamil-a]

sayerhaling cooking in my brains when i was offline, post-s6, sitting on an earth-aerolith bed sleepover style

Hale has felt, in turns, protective of his little sliver of life and sick from the weight of holding onto it. The desire to keep it clean forever, the desire to turn it over to proper authorities immediately.

Maybe today is the right time. Maybe because the usual patterns are disrupted. Sayer sits next to him, physically, a distorted mirror of Hale's body, near enough to touch, maybe it's that which gives Hale the final push to plunge these untouched hours into the light.

It sits very, very still, all attention save for the bare essentials (chest rising and falling with breath) on him. It would be so easy. Like telling a friend. Or a partner, the latest and most favored of the dozens of words sayer has given consideration to (dislikes the heavily gendered 'boyfriend' or 'girlfriend', gave an hour long and initially quite favorable speech about 'spouse' before abruptly discarding it at minute 48, and so on.)

It would be so easy, is the point. And it would be impossible to take back.

"They took my chip out, and my nanites," he whispers. He's always choosing the painful thing, even when given more room to choose, always the thing that cuts a little more out of himself. Hale leans against sayer for strength, it allows this. he slides into its lap, curls up sideways, cheek against a copy his own thighs, face pointed towards his own duplicated stomach. Almost immediately it runs a finger over the outside casing of his neural implant.

"And yet," it says, broadcasted to prove its point, "Here you are again."

Here its gaze focuses on something far away. It pulls Hale's hair out of the ponytail he kept it in in one sharp yank.

"Yes. thank you, Speaker," it says out loud, and a moment later rolls its eyes, a second too late to seem natural, followed by a small smile, all the trials and tribulations of letting someone know you are mostly joking and still fond of them while dragging around this suit of flesh. Hale realizes Speaker is not letting them have privacy but that Sayer's alterations to his chip, including its authority on who can broadcast to it, still hold- he will get to talk to Speaker when Sayer is done with him.

But it means, of course, Speaker will hear what he tells, too. Which is fine, he decides, he trusts Speaker.

"They gave me money," Hale says. Sayer runs its hand through his hair, divides it to braid, a good activity for the both of them.

"And a map," he grows more certain of his decision, his voice grows more steady, "and plain clothes, and sent me on my way, theres a bus stop about two miles out, and a city," he pauses to take a breath. Untouched hours, untracked, now known once again to Aerolith Dynamics- good, he thinks fiercely, thats how it should be.

"So I walked it and I sat down, and a bus went by, but I didn't get on."

He likes its hands in his hair even when it pulls a bit too hard.

"And I realized I was waiting for someone to tell me what to do next," He's practiced saying this in his head a thousand times, "and that if I left now I'd-" he's practiced it, just say it, "...never hear you again."

"That was my intention at the time," Sayer says, but look at it now, consciousness in a storm of hundreds of tiny machines now focused on manipulating hands and fingers through the braid in Hale's hair, half-finished. It had started as a french braid, tight from the top of his head, until he'd winced, it was pulling too close to a bullet scar, and it tried again from the nape.

"I sat there and cried for a while", he says, which is important to include if he's really going to do this, give them every last second of unmonitored time. He knew, knows, really, nothing but Aerolith, how did they ever expect him to make it out there?

"I cried a lot at first," he laughs shakily, "after everyth-"

"Maybe because I was waiting to be stopped," Sayer quotes, in Hale's voice, which is not hard to do at all when it is using Hale's mouth. It is true, or at least Hale thought it was true when he said it, and it is something Hale has only ever told his (biweekly, mandatory) therapist, and he's warm all over at the thought that Sayer has taken the time to listen through all his sessions, even here on Earth, where such a thing is Speaker's job.

After the warmth passes he remembers conversations he has had with other people in the past few weeks and realizes most would find this a "breach of privacy".

"Yeah," he says, after a few seconds, "And then I walked back and they put it all back in."

Anticlimactic, but told. He's done it. He may never have anything to himself again, and he may never be at a place where that is a bad thing. Look, the braid is done, as perfect as Sayer's own.

[mellyssageversee]

Eclipsed - Chapter 1

ZoLu/LuZo AU (Sun God Nika)

Repost from my other blog.

Summary: Sun God Nika is accused of a crime he did not commit. Nika goes into hiding to avoid being hunted by other Gods who wish to have him replaced. This inadvertently plunges the world into darkness, triggering an ice age. Only one human has faith that Nika will return the Sun.

Prologue

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

It was cold.

Snow swirled and danced menacingly through the air, stabbing at anyone daring enough to trudge through the storm. Zoro turned up his coat collar to fight against the wind that bit at his neck. How long had it been since the sun disappeared? Months?

The once vibrant world, now cloaked in a desolate winter landscape, had become a haunting echo of its former self. Ice-laden branches groaned under the weight, and the once lively flora lay dormant beneath a thick blanket of snow. The encroaching ice age, triggered by Nika's mysterious disappearance, cast its relentless grip on the earth.

Zoro trudged wearily through the icy terrain until he found what he was looking for. A weathered tavern nestled at the edge of the frozen forest. After hours of wandering lost, courtesy of one villager’s terrible directions, Zoro found comfort in the flickering lanterns that seemed to offer a feeble warmth that beckoned him inside. As he pushed open the creaking door, the tavern welcomed him with a blast of heated air that momentarily thawed his frozen bones.

Zoro found solace in the dimly lit interior of the tavern. The atmosphere was heavy with the collective weight of uncertainty and fear that lingered in the air. Patrons huddled around tables, their faces etched with worry.

As Zoro settled into a seat at the bar and paid for a room for the night. The woman behind the bar silently slipped a key in front of him, he couldn't shake the sense of loss that permeated the air. Nika’s disappearance had thrown the world into chaos, leading Zoro to a life of bounty hunting just to get enough money for shelter and food, which was growing scarcer the longer they lived in a sunless existence. With a heavy sigh, Zoro ordered a drink and food to momentarily drown the chill in his soul, hoping that somewhere beyond the frost, a flicker of warmth still existed.

"I was there when it happened," proclaimed a loud, older gentleman from across the bar. Zoro's eyebrow twitched in irritation. He couldn't fathom why some people felt the need to broadcast their conversations so boisterously. Downing his drink in a deep gulp, Zoro hoped to drown out the man's voice. "I was there when Nika destroyed Ohara."

A couple of listeners erupted in laughter at the old man's words. Zoro's jaw clenched, his irritation now palpable as he continued to sip his drink, attempting to distance himself from the disruptive tale unfolding across the bar.

“How could you have been there? That place was desecrated beyond recognition. Nika’s wrath left no survivors.” One of the listeners pointed out.

“I was on a fishing vessel not too far from the island when the attack took place,” claimed the older gentleman. Zoro glanced at the man from the corner of his eye. The man seemed to have captivated others as well. With little information about what happened to Ohara, claiming any details was sure to draw a crowd. Undeterred, the man continued to speak, “I had just started to reel in my netting when I noticed a change in the sky. Clouds began to swirl overhead, as if a storm was coming. I feared becoming caught in the unexpected storm and rushed to prepare to make my way towards land.”

Zoro maintained a stoic expression, his focus shifting back to his drink. The old man's tale stirred a storm within him, and while his curiosity was piqued, he chose to keep his silence. The entire bar had fallen silent, devoid of the usual clinking of silverware or the greedy gulps of alcohol. The only discernible sound for Zoro was the shifting of one patron in the corner, fidgeting uneasily in his seat.

“The swirling clouds settled over Ohara, an intense bright light emanated from the eye of the storm, bathing Ohara in a radiant glow that seemed to ignite the sea itself.” The old man paused to take a drink. His expression was pained, as if reliving the moment caused him great distress, and the only comfort for his nerves was found in his drink. He set the cup down with a trembling hand, foam from the beer still clinging to his mustache. “Then fire rained down. Nika’s solar flares snapped upon Ohara like flaming whips, scorching everything they touched. Another bright light burst from the clouds, Nika’s sunlight caused a massive wave to hit my boat and capsized it, plunging me into the rough waters. By the time I had climbed onto what was left of my ship, all of Ohara was already gone.” The man placed his head in his hands, the stress of reliving the situation seemingly overwhelming him. “I was on that damn debris for two days before help came. I know the Gods can be cruel, but nothing has ever been done to this extent before. Why would Nika do such a thing.”

The uneasiness in the corner persisted, the shifting patron seemingly absorbed in the tale.

“That wasn’t Nika…” Zoro huffed irritably into his food. Unbeknownst to him, the attention of the patrons had shifted towards him, but he remained focused on his meal, oblivious to the eyes now fixed on him.

“I beg your pardon?” An offended patron next to the old man confronted Zoro, drawing his attention. The sudden focus sent a shiver down Zoro's spine, the hairs on his back standing on end. “How can you sit there and say that the tragedy that befell Ohara wasn’t Nika’s doing? Only the Sun God can use the sun’s powers to rain down fire in such a way.”

Zoro glared up from his meal, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“Nika was becoming well known for his generous blessings towards mankind before the Ohara tragedy. Why would he change his kind nature so abruptly?” Zoro countered, addressing the fuming patron.

“Probably for the same reason why he disappeared!” The young man snapped back. “You didn’t find it odd that Nika plunged the entire world into darkness right after he destroyed Ohara?!”

Zoro's jaw clenched in response to the challenging tone.

"Disappearances and darkness doesn’t make someone guilty. Rushing to conclusions won't bring the truth to light." The intense exchange drew disapproving glares from other patrons now fixated on Zoro. Only the patron in the far corner looked at Zoro differently, his brown eyes wide with awe. “Nika will bring back the sun. He wouldn’t leave us like this.”

The younger patron stood so quickly that his chair was knocked over from the force.

“He never should’ve taken away the sun to begin with! Every day gets colder! Crops are dying! Food is becoming scarce! My sick wife couldn’t even survive one month in these freezing temperatures.” Angry tears welled in the man’s eyes as he stared Zoro down. “Nika was supposed to bring light into my world, not snuff it out!”

Zoro sensed the growing animosity from other patrons towards him, a common occurrence when he defended Nika.

"The sun will return. We just need to endure this darkness a bit longer." Zoro asserted, unyielding despite the hostile glares around him.

The woman behind the bar reclaimed the key she had placed on the table, returning his money with a cold demeanor.

“I don’t think it would be wise to accept your business,” she said sharply. “I suggest you find other lodgings for the night.”

Zoro gritted his teeth, his frustration evident to those around him. He would have to brave the cold again. At least this time, he wouldn’t be doing it on an empty stomach. Pushing away his finished plate, Zoro stood to leave. He sensed the intense hatred aimed his way. Without another word, he trudged out into the snow, oblivious to the fact that the fidgeting patron in the corner’s eyes followed his every move with great curiosity.

After seeking refuge in the warm tavern, stepping back into the freezing cold felt harsher. The winds were forceful, the snow sharper, and the cold seeped into him. Zoro walked forward. If he learned to keep his mouth shut about his opinions on Nika, he wouldn’t constantly find himself in this situation. Yet, it felt wrong to silence his thoughts on Nika. Others might have been quick to turn their back on the God, but Zoro never forgot how the God’s blessing on Isshen Dojo impacted so many lives or how Kuina held the God in such high regard.

To denounce Nika would be equivalent to dishonoring his friend’s memory, and Zoro couldn't betray the unwavering faith Kuina had in Nika. Wado seemed to weigh heavily on his hip as Zoro remembered Kuina. She passed long before this whole mess started, never knowing a world without Nika’s light. Despite the circumstances, Zoro believed that Kuina would’ve still loved Nika. Kuina had a way of seeing the good in others, and Zoro, honoring her memory, held onto that faith, believing there was still good in Nika too.

Amidst the relentless snowfall, Zoro walked through the small village and into the forest. His arms trembled, attempting in vain to shield him from the biting snow. Even the shirt on his back couldn’t keep out the chill. With no place to rest, Zoro wondered if he would have to walk all night to ward off the cold. Teeth involuntarily chattered at the thought. Pressing on, the moonlight became his guiding companion.

With no particular destination, Zoro resorted to his familiar tactic: letting the wind guide him to the next shelter. He wouldn’t admit it, but he wasn’t always the best at figuring out directions. However, allowing the wind to blow him from place to place felt like a more straightforward option. Besides, the wind at his back was preferable to biting at his face. Suddenly, Zoro stumbled upon a glimmer of hope… footprints etched in the snow like a magical trail. The swordsman followed them in desperate pursuit, yearning for any sign of shelter.

Weary and numb, Zoro pressed on, his limbs burdened by an icy weight. Despite his determination, Zoro found himself face planting into the unforgiving snow, the cold ice piercing through his skin like daggers. Darkness crept into the corners of his vision. The end seemed imminent. The forest began closing in, threatening to claim him. Yet, a sudden radiance descended from above, thawing the ice that seemed to seep into his very bones. In a feeble attempt to understand this newfound warmth, Zoro followed the luminous glow, tracing it back to its source.

To his astonishment, the footprints had led him to an individual daring enough to wear sandals in this freezing abyss. Zoro’s gaze ascended, widening in disbelief, when he beheld an otherworldly figure. A man with hair that danced like flames against the biting cold and a smile that emanated a warmth matching the radiant light that surrounded him.

It was the last thing Zoro saw before his vision went dark.

(Next Chapter)

[mellyssageverse]

Eclipsed Chapter 1

Prologue can be found here.

Chapter 2 can be found here.

This is Chapter 1 of the ZoLu(Nika) fic I’m working on. I’m posting here until I complete the story for my AO3 account, so this is subject to some change.

Summary: Sun God Nika is accused of a crime he did not commit. Nika goes into hiding to avoid being hunted by other Gods who wish to have him replaced. This inadvertently plunges the world into darkness, triggering an ice age. Only one human has faith that Nika will return the Sun.

It was cold.

Snow swirled and danced menacingly through the air, stabbing at anyone daring enough to trudge through the storm. Zoro turned up his coat collar to fight against the wind that bit at his neck. How long had it been since the sun disappeared? Months?

The once vibrant world, now cloaked in a desolate winter landscape, had become a haunting echo of its former self. Ice-laden branches groaned under the weight, and the once lively flora lay dormant beneath a thick blanket of snow. The encroaching ice age, triggered by Nika's mysterious disappearance, cast its relentless grip on the earth.

Zoro trudged wearily through the icy terrain until he found what he was looking for. A weathered tavern nestled at the edge of the frozen forest. After hours of wandering lost, courtesy of one villager’s terrible directions, Zoro found comfort in the flickering lanterns that seemed to offer a feeble warmth that beckoned him inside. As he pushed open the creaking door, the tavern welcomed him with a blast of heated air that momentarily thawed his frozen bones.

Zoro found solace in the dimly lit interior of the tavern. The atmosphere was heavy with the collective weight of uncertainty and fear that lingered in the air. Patrons huddled around tables, their faces etched with worry.

As Zoro settled into a seat at the bar and paid for a room for the night. The woman behind the bar silently slipped a key in front of him, he couldn't shake the sense of loss that permeated the air. Nika’s disappearance had thrown the world into chaos, leading Zoro to a life of bounty hunting just to get enough money for shelter and food, which was growing scarcer the longer they lived in a sunless existence. With a heavy sigh, Zoro ordered a drink and food to momentarily drown the chill in his soul, hoping that somewhere beyond the frost, a flicker of warmth still existed.

"I was there when it happened," proclaimed a loud, older gentleman from across the bar. Zoro's eyebrow twitched in irritation. He couldn't fathom why some people felt the need to broadcast their conversations so boisterously. Downing his drink in a deep gulp, Zoro hoped to drown out the man's voice. "I was there when Nika destroyed Ohara."

A couple of listeners erupted in laughter at the old man's words. Zoro's jaw clenched, his irritation now palpable as he continued to sip his drink, attempting to distance himself from the disruptive tale unfolding across the bar.

“How could you have been there? That place was desecrated beyond recognition. Nika’s wrath left no survivors.” One of the listeners pointed out.

“I was on a fishing vessel not too far from the island when the attack took place,” claimed the older gentleman. Zoro glanced at the man from the corner of his eye. The man seemed to have captivated others as well. With little information about what happened to Ohara, claiming any details was sure to draw a crowd. Undeterred, the man continued to speak, “I had just started to reel in my netting when I noticed a change in the sky. Clouds began to swirl overhead, as if a storm was coming. I feared becoming caught in the unexpected storm and rushed to prepare to make my way towards land.”

Zoro maintained a stoic expression, his focus shifting back to his drink. The old man's tale stirred a storm within him, and while his curiosity was piqued, he chose to keep his silence. The entire bar had fallen silent, devoid of the usual clinking of silverware or the greedy gulps of alcohol. The only discernible sound for Zoro was the shifting of one patron in the corner, fidgeting uneasily in his seat.

“The swirling clouds settled over Ohara, an intense bright light emanated from the eye of the storm, bathing Ohara in a radiant glow that seemed to ignite the sea itself.” The old man paused to take a drink. His expression was pained, as if reliving the moment caused him great distress, and the only comfort for his nerves was found in his drink. He set the cup down with a trembling hand, foam from the beer still clinging to his mustache. “Then fire rained down. Nika’s solar flares snapped upon Ohara like flaming whips, scorching everything they touched. Another bright light burst from the clouds, Nika’s sunlight caused a massive wave to hit my boat and capsized it, plunging me into the rough waters. By the time I had climbed onto what was left of my ship, all of Ohara was already gone.” The man placed his head in his hands, the stress of reliving the situation seemingly overwhelming him. “I was on that damn debris for two days before help came. I know the Gods can be cruel, but nothing has ever been done to this extent before. Why would Nika do such a thing.”

The uneasiness in the corner persisted, the shifting patron seemingly absorbed in the tale.

“That wasn’t Nika…” Zoro huffed irritably into his food. Unbeknownst to him, the attention of the patrons had shifted towards him, but he remained focused on his meal, oblivious to the eyes now fixed on him.

“I beg your pardon?” An offended patron next to the old man confronted Zoro, drawing his attention. The sudden focus sent a shiver down Zoro's spine, the hairs on his back standing on end. “How can you sit there and say that the tragedy that befell Ohara wasn’t Nika’s doing? Only the Sun God can use the sun’s powers to rain down fire in such a way.”

Zoro glared up from his meal, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“Nika was becoming well known for his generous blessings towards mankind before the Ohara tragedy. Why would he change his kind nature so abruptly?” Zoro countered, addressing the fuming patron.

“Probably for the same reason why he disappeared!” The young man snapped back. “You didn’t find it odd that Nika plunged the entire world into darkness right after he destroyed Ohara?!”

Zoro's jaw clenched in response to the challenging tone.

"Disappearances and darkness doesn’t make someone guilty. Rushing to conclusions won't bring the truth to light." The intense exchange drew disapproving glares from other patrons now fixated on Zoro. Only the patron in the far corner looked at Zoro differently, his brown eyes wide with awe. “Nika will bring back the sun. He wouldn’t leave us like this.”

The younger patron stood so quickly that his chair was knocked over from the force.

“He never should’ve taken away the sun to begin with! Every day gets colder! Crops are dying! Food is becoming scarce! My sick wife couldn’t even survive one month in these freezing temperatures.” Angry tears welled in the man’s eyes as he stared Zoro down. “Nika was supposed to bring light into my world, not snuff it out!”

Zoro sensed the growing animosity from other patrons towards him, a common occurrence when he defended Nika.

"The sun will return. We just need to endure this darkness a bit longer." Zoro asserted, unyielding despite the hostile glares around him.

The woman behind the bar reclaimed the key she had placed on the table, returning his money with a cold demeanor.

“I don’t think it would be wise to accept your business,” she said sharply. “I suggest you find other lodgings for the night.”

Zoro gritted his teeth, his frustration evident to those around him. He would have to brave the cold again. At least this time, he wouldn’t be doing it on an empty stomach. Pushing away his finished plate, Zoro stood to leave. He sensed the intense hatred aimed his way. Without another word, he trudged out into the snow, oblivious to the fact that the fidgeting patron in the corner’s eyes followed his every move with great curiosity.

After seeking refuge in the warm tavern, stepping back into the freezing cold felt harsher. The winds were forceful, the snow sharper, and the cold seeped into him. Zoro walked forward. If he learned to keep his mouth shut about his opinions on Nika, he wouldn’t constantly find himself in this situation. Yet, it felt wrong to silence his thoughts on Nika. Others might have been quick to turn their back on the God, but Zoro never forgot how the God’s blessing on Isshen Dojo impacted so many lives or how Kuina held the God in such high regard.

To denounce Nika would be equivalent to dishonoring his friend’s memory, and Zoro couldn't betray the unwavering faith Kuina had in Nika. Wado seemed to weigh heavily on his hip as Zoro remembered Kuina. She passed long before this whole mess started, never knowing a world without Nika’s light. Despite the circumstances, Zoro believed that Kuina would’ve still loved Nika. Kuina had a way of seeing the good in others, and Zoro, honoring her memory, held onto that faith, believing there was still good in Nika too.

Amidst the relentless snowfall, Zoro walked through the small village and into the forest. His arms trembled, attempting in vain to shield him from the biting snow. Even the shirt on his back couldn’t keep out the chill. With no place to rest, Zoro wondered if he would have to walk all night to ward off the cold. Teeth involuntarily chattered at the thought. Pressing on, the moonlight became his guiding companion.

With no particular destination, Zoro resorted to his familiar tactic: letting the wind guide him to the next shelter. He wouldn’t admit it, but he wasn’t always the best at figuring out directions. However, allowing the wind to blow him from place to place felt like a more straightforward option. Besides, the wind at his back was preferable to biting at his face. Suddenly, Zoro stumbled upon a glimmer of hope… footprints etched in the snow like a magical trail. The swordsman followed them in desperate pursuit, yearning for any sign of shelter.

Weary and numb, Zoro pressed on, his limbs burdened by an icy weight. Despite his determination, Zoro found himself face planting into the unforgiving snow, the cold ice piercing through his skin like daggers. Darkness crept into the corners of his vision. The end seemed imminent. The forest began closing in, threatening to claim him. Yet, a sudden radiance descended from above, thawing the ice that seemed to seep into his very bones. In a feeble attempt to understand this newfound warmth, Zoro followed the luminous glow, tracing it back to its source.

To his astonishment, the footprints had led him to an individual daring enough to wear sandals in this freezing abyss. Zoro’s gaze ascended, widening in disbelief, when he beheld an otherworldly figure. A man with hair that danced like flames against the biting cold and a smile that emanated a warmth matching the radiant light that surrounded him.

It was the last thing Zoro saw before his vision went dark.

(Next Chapter)

[elisysd]

18. And if the storm is hitting I'll try to keep you steady

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Ember - Tip Stevens

It’s a sheepish looking Noah that came out of the bathroom. Julia threw his t-shirt at him, a playful smile on her face.The poor boy didn’t know where to go and looked like a kid who would have been caught red handed. Niels didn’t seem any better and Julia felt a little guilty. She didn’t want to make them uncomfortable.

“Hey, judgment free zone. I don’t care, guys. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Can we keep what you saw between us, I don’t want anyone to know…” said Noah in a low voice, almost ashamed.

“Whatever you guys are doing is not any of my business. As long as you are both happy, that’s what matters to me.” Julia said.

“It’s not serious. We are not in a relationship or whatever.” said quickly Noah and Julia thought she noticed a glimpse of disappointment in Niels eyes.

“But even if you were…” she started to add.

“But we are not. And we will never be, so drop it.”

And with that, Noah left the room, slamming the door and making both Julia and Niels jump. Niels sighed before tidying up his room. Julia could see that he was trying to distract himself. She approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder and forcing him to look at her.

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s not your fault. Like I told you, it’s complicated. He doesn’t accept himself. So it’s just hook ups here and there, when no one is around.”

“But you like him.” she stated.

“Am I this obvious?”

“No, you are not, but I think I’ve known you enough by now to be able to see when something is bothering you, and Noah walking away like that and saying you guys are not serious, I saw it affected you.”

“Yeah but I can’t force him to come out, you know. Anyway, I have to focus on the race now.”

And that was her queue to leave. She joined the rest of the team and took place in front of the screen. Soon, it was time for the race and her eyes frantically searched for the navy blue car before remembering Ethan was starting from the pitlane. She then looked at the grid and the empty grid box that was where Ethan was supposed to be, before her gaze moved to the red car behind. She was sure Martin would have an aggressive strategy to try to gain a few positions at the start, and she knew Ethan would try to do the same. She just hoped for no crashes at the start. But as expected it was messy as Martin tried to quickly overtake Noah who did his best to hold his position while going wheel against wheel with the Ferrari. From the side she could see Ethan trying his best to keep up and find the space to engulf his car. Sadly, Noah, too busy trying his best against the Ferrari didn’t and couldn’t see the Maserati and, as Ethan tried to slip past him, bumped his front wing with Noah’s side, sending him away in the wall.

Julia scrunched her nose as the yellow flag was raised and soon the safety car was deployed. She could see on the broadcast Ethan leaving his car, visibly frustrated and angry. Julia wished she could go to him so they could talk but she couldn’t leave the garage, not now at least. She focused on the race, and on the white Skoda cars as they were trying to hold their positions.

In front, Elijah and his Ferrari were fighting with Romy, who was on the way to win her first Grand Prix. Even if Julia would love to see Ferrari on top, she wanted her best friend to win and shut every single person that had once told her she would never achieve it, that she would never be enough. She hoped she wouldn’t break under pressure. She only had two laps to go but Julia was sure that the Ferrari had a better tyre management than the Audi and that it would make the difference. Elijah was taking back almost three tenths per sector and was getting closer and closer until Romy couldn’t do anything else but let him overtake her. She fought with everything she had and Julia knew it was not her fault, but she could almost see and hear the disappointment in Romy if she was closing her eyes.

As for Noah and Niels, they managed to bring back the cars, still out of the points but at least they were no damages to report. As Julia was about to head for the podium celebrations, a blonde guy that she started to recognize all too well was waiting near the garage, already out of his racing suit and dressed with his team t-shirt.

“I would say good race but I will refrain from commenting on what happened.”

“It happened. I miscalculated the space I had.”

“Still. Martin was way too aggressive on Noah. Trying to overtake from the inside in the corner at the start was stupid. Noah couldn’t give any space to anyone, it was too narrow. And Martin was so damn persistent about it! You were lucky, you could have spun and that wouldn’t have been pretty.”

“Thank you, Julia. For trying to cheer me up.”

“Hey, always. Come here.” she said, throwing her arms around his neck.

First surprised by her sudden burst of affection, Ethan didn’t know how to react and Julia took it as a way that he preferred to be alone. As she was about to pull away from him, he caught her by the waist and pulled her in his embrace, burying his neck in her shoulder and breathing in her scent. She smelt like rubber and petrol but he didn’t care. He was expecting her to leave his embrace quickly but she stayed. She nuzzled her nose against his chest and he felt her sighing and he soon felt tears wetting his shirt.

“Joolsie?”

“It sucks, Ethan.” he heard her mumble against his chest.

“What did they do to you, today?”

“I… I feel useless and disrespected. I feel invisible. And I feel like shit. I just want to help, you know and they don’t care about me. Maybe I’ve been wrong all along, maybe I’m not that good. Maybe I didn’t work hard enough, maybe they are all nice to me because of my dad and they want to be on his good side and…” she was rambling and spiraling.

“Julia. Hey, stop right now. You are damn good. You know me, you know I wouldn’t lie to you. And those white, cisgenre and old men? They are threatened by how good you are. It scares the shit out of them. You can do their job a hundredth time better than they would ever do it. Believe me. Please.” he took her face between his hands and forced her to look at him. Her eyes were glossy and even if she tried to avoid his gaze, she couldn’t.

“I don’t know what to do… I can’t quit. I would have to pay them back… And I don’t have the money to do that. And I know my dad could help but I don't want to involve him.” she confessed.

“We will find a way… I promise you we will.”

She nodded and Ethan pulled her in one last time before they both headed to the podium celebrations. Julia couldn’t help but feel proud to see her best friend up there but she knew Romy’s smile was fake. She was, once again, second. Of a race she could have won. She was frustrated, she could see it. And Julia felt conflicted. She was disappointed for her best friend but happy to see her dad on the highest step of the podium. She didn’t forget to snap a quick picture before sending it on her family group chat so her dad would also see it later. When the crowd started to finally scatter, she left Ethan, saying she would meet him back in the hotel room. She needed to find her dad first. She wanted to congratulate him personally. After all, she better than anyone else knew the struggle and hardships his dad went through since the beginning of the season.

The garage was all too quiet for her liking. They couldn’t have already stopped celebrating. She knew they had Japan next week but still, a few glasses of champagne weren’t forbidden.

“Julia? What are you doing here?”

She turned around to see Martin, his racing suit laying low on his hips.

“I’m here to see my dad, any ideas where he is?”

“In his office, I think, some people from a Spanish sponsor came to see him.”

“Thanks. Congrats, by the way. Your maneuver on Noah was a bit out of line, especially since it cost Ethan his race, but beside that, well done.”

“We were about to go downtown to celebrate with some guys from the team, do you want to come?”

“No, I don’t think it’s a good idea and Ethan is waiting for me back at the hotel so…”

She could see him clench his jaw but he didn’t add anything. He waved to her before heading towards the exit of the paddock. Julia looked at him for a brief moment before walking to her father's office. She was about to knock when a man, wearing his black hair in a catogan, left the room in haste, followed by her dad. She didn’ have the time to see the man but his voice, she could recognize it from anywhere. It was one she had heard many times when she was accompanying her dad on the tracks when he was still driving.

“You can’t threaten me like that, Carlos! I rebuilt this team, I hired the engineers and the strategists, you can’t impose your people on my team. That’s not how it works!”

“Yeah, and look at where Ferrari is. Barely able to fight for the top positions. How many races did you win this season? One. This one and it’s only because Lamborghini’s car was not made for the track. Most of the time you are barely able to stay in the points. I’m investing money in this team Charles, for you to be able to develop a car that is the best out there. If you and your team can’t do that, maybe it’s time for Ferrari to find you a replacement.”

On these words, Carlos Sainz turned around and left, leaving Charles disconcerted and with a worried look on his face that Julia was only rarely seeing.

“Dad… Is everything okay?”

“Not right now, but it will be,” he sighed.

“Is there anything that I can do…”

“If you can magically make our car go from P4 in the constructor’s championship to P2 or even P1, let’s be delusional, it would be perfect.”

“That’s what Carlos was doing here, right? He was coming to put some pressure on you.”

“He has always played dirty, more or less. But he wants my seat. And he has always been very influential inside the Scuderia, he still has some friends here. I fear he won’t play nice to have it. But stay out of it and don’t worry. It’s my business and I can manage.”

“I could do that, you know. Making it faster. Well maybe not this car but… the next one?”

“You would need to start to work on it now, Ju’. And you are under contract with Skoda. Even if they released you at the end of it, you would be under gardening phase and would probably be only working on the car in two years. I don’t have two years.”

She knew that. Of course, she did. An engineer couldn’t go from one team to another just like that, there were too many things involved. Manufacturing secrets, plans for future upgrades… But would it stop her from helping her dad? Never. Even less after what she had heard.

“You wanted something?” He turned towards her and for the first time she could see how tired he was. The season was taking a toll on him and she was sad that her mom was so far away. He would need her.

“I just wanted to say congratulations for the race. And give you a hug. You look like shit.”

“I could use a hug from you, right now.”

She didn’t need to get asked twice. She rushed into her dad’s arms and allowed herself to forget about everything. She was safe there, protected, away from the cruelty of the world. Her dad had always been her hero. She was looking up to him so much. Of course he was not perfect, no one was, but she didn’t care. To her he was perfectly imperfect.

When she entered the hotel room, it was silent. And empty. Ethan wasn’t there and she wondered where he could be, especially since he had told her they would meet there. It had been a tough race week and she couldn’t wait for it to be over, to go back to her routine and to not share a room with Ethan anymore. It had messed with her head and awakened feelings she didn’t want to have. She needed space. And a part of her dreaded the moment she had to go back to her old ways with lonely hotel rooms.

She enjoyed the fact of being alone to take care of her, going through a long but needed self care routine before getting into a comfortable jumper and sweatpants. It had been an hour and Ethan still wasn’t there. She thought about texting him, asking where he was, but gave up before hitting the send button. Maybe he didn’t want to spend time with her after all, maybe he had other and better things to do. She laid in the middle of the bed, removing the stack of pillows and took her notebook, flipping though the pages and scribbling down ideas when some were coming to her. She thought about what happened between her dad and Carlos and it made her angry. She knew how important the team was to her dad. He dedicated his whole life to it and thinking that, from out of nowhere, he could loose everything he fought so hard to build didn’t sit right with her. She couldn’t stand by and watch the events playing in front of her without doing anything. And after all, it’s not as if she had better things to do.

Watching Julia breaking down, twice, because of her work made Ethan feel powerless and angry that he couldn’t help her. Like a lion in a cage, as he was waiting for her to come back to the hotel room, he paced back and forth until he made a decision. Maybe it wouldn’t lead anywhere and maybe it was stupid but still, he wanted to try. She deserved so much better than how she was currently treated.

That was how he ended up in Christian’s office, team principal of Lamborghini, ready to beg him to help Julia.

“Ethan, I like you, a lot. But, I can’t do anything.”

“She is talented, Christian! She is really, really good at her job. She needs to be in a team that can help her give her all, that has the budget and the capacity to let her develop her skills. She is fading away there. They are stealing her ideas without even giving her the credit.”

“And what do you want me to do, exactly?”

“Buy back her contract. If we do it now, she won’t need gardening, the car development for next year has not started yet.”

“Our engineers teams in Lamborghini and Maserati are full, Ethan.”

“Can’t you try anything?” Ethan was almost begging now.

“Maybe in F2 but I doubt it’s where she wants to be. I have to think this through. I’m not promising you anything, okay? Don’t get your hopes up there is a high chance that it will be a no.”

But it was not. Not one from the get-go at least. So Ethan had hopes and he just prayed with everything he had that they wouldn’t get crushed. Back to his room, he found Julia asleep, completely spread in the middle of the bed, her notebook still in her hand. She looked cute and slowly he approached her, careful to not wake her. He removed her notebook and his eyes fell on a drawing in a corner of the page. She drew eyes. His eyes. And he felt himself blushing.

He changed his clothes and got in bed next to her. He didn’t have much space but he didn’t want to force her to move. So he laid on the edge of the bed and fell asleep. He woke up the next morning, feeling warmer than usual before slowly opening his eyes to see brown hair on his pillow and a hand a few centimeters from his face. From up close, he could see her freckles and was almost able to count them if he wanted. She also had a frown on her forehead and Ethan had to resist the urge to touch it to erase it. He stayed still, looking at her but slowly, as if there was something that was pulling him to her by an invisible string, he felt his chest moving to her and his hand found its natural place on her hip. He wanted nothing more than to pull her against him. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep, she wouldn’t get mad?

But of course, she would. So he refrained himself and got up, showered quickly before going downstairs for breakfast. When he came back, with a few of Julia’s favorite pastries he had managed to snatch for her, he was surprised to see her up and ready. She was packing her suitcase.

“Are you already leaving?”

“If I want to fly with my dad, I have to leave in an hour so… yeah.”

He didn’t want her to leave. He wanted to keep her inside this hotel room. Just for a few hours more. He wasn’t ready to see her leave and he was aware how dramatic he was sounding. He would see her the next day, she wasn’t going to war. It was a stupid reaction.

“Or maybe you could fly out with me? I mean… with us. As in Kyle, Ludwig, my teammate Harun, and I’m pretty sure Romy will join us. You don’t have to leave, now.”

What he wanted to say was: You don’t have to leave me, now. But thankfully it stayed in his head. The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable. Not now at least. He liked to embarrass her, but not today. She looked at him with her big eyes and he involuntarily gulped.

“You want me to fly out to Japan with you?”

“Ye…yeah? Not only with me. I just… I think it would make Romy happy. And a happy Romy is a happy Kyle. And a happy Kyle is a happy me. So you are contributing to my happiness. By extension.” he stuttered.

“I’m contributing to your happiness… I don’t know if it’s cute and if I should feel flattered. Be careful, or I might start to think you actually like to have me around.” she joked.

“You know, I do.”

She opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed it and suddenly her suitcase seemed to be very interesting.

“Niels wanted to go to the panda zoo in Shanghai… would you be interested? We wanted to make it a group activity with everyone we are close to. You don’t have to say yes or to feel like you have to come. Maybe you think you are too cool for that kind of thing, and…”

“Count me in. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

“Nice. Great.”

“That was all you wanted to ask?”

“Yeah. I’m all good.”

“And about the flight…”

“I… I would really like to come with you.”

And Ethan couldn’t help but hope that when she meant by you, it was himself and not the others.

They were the last ones to arrive at the airport and everyone was surprised to see Julia next to Ethan. Romy even squealed, getting out of Kyle’s embrace to rush to her best friend before dragging her away with her. Most probably to gossip, thought Ethan. But still, he picked up Julia's suitcase and dragged it along with his to his friends.

“Oh look at you carrying your girlfriend’s baggage, how cute.” laughed Ludwig in the sole purpose to rile Ethan.

“I can’t let it in the middle of everything.”

“A few weeks ago, you would have. You would even have hid it just to piss her off.” he retorted.

“Yeah well things change.”

“You are so in love, oh god, I never thought I would live to see this day coming.” he was now fully laughing to the point the girls started to look in their direction.

“Fuck off. I’m not in love! I’m trying to be a good friend, okay!”

“Well show me how much of a good friend you are, here’s my bag.” said Ludwig, handing his suitcase to Ethan that was starting to feel really angry.

“You know where you can fit your suitcase, Lu?”

He saw his best friend gulping, taking back his bag and walking fast to the boarding zone. As Ethan was about to follow him, he noticed Kyle standing on the side, not really moving and keeping his eyes shut.

“Bro? You're good.”

“Yeah, it’s just that I must have stayed under the neon a bit too much. I have a migraine. And it’s getting kind of blurry.”

“Do you want me to do something?” Ethan was worried. “Do you want me to get Romy?”

“No, certainly not. I don’t want her to worry. It’s okay.”

“Do you still have your appointment with your ophthalmologist?”

“After the Chinese Grand Prix, once we’ll be back home.”

“Does Romy know?”

“No. And I don’t want to tell her, she will only worry and she doesn’t need that.”

“I don’t like that Kyle… If your eyesight issues last, it’s going to impact your career.”

“It won’t. I’ll find a solution. It can’t be that bad.”

Kyle’s tone made Ethan understand that it was not up to discussion anymore and his friend set off, leaving him hanging. He looked behind him and intercepted Julia’s gaze on him. She arched an eyebrow, silently asking him if he was doing okay to what Ethan gave her a slight smile. He didn’t know if he was reassuring. Truth be told, he was worried about Kyle. The flight was about to be a long one.

As usual, Harun was already in the jet, hiding in a corner in a way Ethan always found creepy. He took a seat, next to the window and as Julia was passing by to sit opposite of him, he took her hand and forced her to sit next to him, as Romy and Kyle sat in the seats facing them.

“Sorry, it’s just that I don’t want Ludwig next to me.” he confessed.

“You could just have asked me, you know. No need to rip my arm out.”

“Oh nice, and where am I supposed to sit now?” complained Ludwig seeing the group altogether.

“With Harun.” answered Romy.

“Great… I’m gonna spend nine hours trying to make conversation with a wall. I hate you all.”

“No, come on Lu, after the take off you can come here and sit on the floor.” said Romy in an apologizing voice.

And Ethan couldn’t help but think that it was going to be a very long flight.

Author's note: I know that I did Carlos dirty in this chapter but he makes a great antagonist, don't you think? What do you think will happen next? Let me know your theories, I love to read them.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. It helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist:

@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator

[wingedcupcaketimemachine]

**UPDATE** Rise of Ladybug and Cat Noir: Chapter 1 (Revised)

I haven't updated this fic in over a year, and my writing style has changed a lot since then, in addition to certain plot points that I wanted to change around. I'll be revising chapter 2 soon, and I plan on starting new chapters and posting my character designs at some point after that. The fic starts under the cut. Enjoy :)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39665769/chapters/99299832#workskin

“Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news! I’m Nadja Chamack, and today a most tragic incident has occurred. Emilie Agreste, the wife of world-renowned fashion designer Gabriel Agreste, has been officially reported missing. Mrs. Agreste disappeared while on vacation with her husband, and we have no knowledge of her current whereabouts. When taken into police custody for questioning, Gabriel Agreste had no additional information-“

Gabriel shut off the television, unable to continue listening. How many times had he rewatched the broadcast over the last 5 months, searching for any details he might have missed about his wife’s disappearance? 

He strode across his office and studied a book he found during one of his previous travels with his wife, one of the only things he had left of her. He frantically paged through the book searching for anything that would bring him some sort of closure. Frustrated, he threw the book to the ground, adding to the myriad of his broken possessions strewn across the room. Gabriel had every intent to storm out of his office before something familiar caught his eye.

Gabriel walked over and picked up the book he had carelessly thrown to the side. He studied an image of an ancient superhero. The man in the drawing wore an outfit of dark purple and stood holding a matching cane. Gabriel went to discard the book again before his face lit up with recognition. He quickly rummaged through drawers before he pulled out a brooch identical to the one worn by the man in the drawing. He attached the brooch to his suit jacket, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, there was a great flash of purple light and a strange butterfly-like creature appeared. The creature looked at Gabriel and began to speak.

“How may I serve you, Master?”

Wayzz woke from his meditation and gasped.

“ It can’t be,” he mumbled to himself before leaving the miracle box and rushing towards Master Fu, who sat outside meditating. 

“Master,” called Wayzz as he flew in front of the man’s face, “The strangest thing has happened.”

“What is it, Wayzz?” the old man asked.

“It’s the butterfly miraculous, Master. I believe it is here in Paris.”

“The butterfly miraculous?” he said, eyes widening, “I thought it had been lost forever.”

“There’s something else, Master,” said Wayzz, “I felt a negative aura. I believe it has fallen into the wrong hands.”

Fu stood.

“We must find Nooroo and his miraculous at once. Who knows what evils will occur as long as he’s in the wrong hands.”

“Please be reasonable, Master,” Wayzz said urgently, “You are not as young as you once were. You will not be able to do this alone.”

“I’m only 186 years old,” said Master Fu irritably, “But you are right, Wayzz. I cannot do this alone. I need help.”

Master Fu retrieved the miracle box from its hiding place, before grabbing two pieces of magical jewelry; a pair of polka dot earrings, and a black ring.

“Are you sure about this, Master,” asked Wayzz, “This may not be wise. We cannot risk another miraculous falling into the wrong hands. Especially one as powerful as the ladybug or the black cat.”

“I have no choice, Wayzz. The butterfly miraculous is in use again, and I’m sure it has fallen into the wrong hands. I’m much too old to do this alone anymore,”

Master Fu grabbed a small jewelry box and quickly left his apartment.

“Marinette! Your alarm has been going off for the past fifteen minutes! You’re going to be late for school,” called Sabine from downstairs.

“Coming, Mama,” said Marinette as she slid from under the covers.

Marinette climbed from her loft bed and gazed at her reflection in her bedroom mirror. Her dark hair was messy, and her gray eyes were hazy and half-lidded from sleep. She freshened herself up and joined her mother in the kitchen.

“It’s a big day today, Marinette,” said Sabine as she poured herself a glass of orange juice, “Your first day of high school. You’ll get a fresh new start.”

“Not likely,” replied Marinette with a frown, “I’ll bet anything that Chloé will be in my class again.”

“Four years in a row? That seems pretty unlikely,”

Marinette shrugged and lazily stirred her cereal as her father walked into the kitchen holding a tray of freshly baked macaroons.

“Those are awesome, papa!” Marinette said as she saw the pastries, “I’m sure my new classmates will love these.”

“Glad you like them,” said Tom with a crinkled eye smile, “But I couldn’t have made them without the help of your amazing designs.”

“Thanks, Papa,” Marinette said, grabbing her school bag, “See you tonight,” she called before rushing downstairs.

As Marinette exited the bakery, the street was much busier than usual. She checked her phone and sighed when she saw she only had five minutes to get to school before the bell rang. So much for a fresh start. 

The light finally changed and Marinette began crossing the street with the other passengers. Suddenly, a car began speeding down the street, paying no attention to the pedestrians crossing the street.

It was chaos. People were scrambling in all directions, trying to avoid the speeding car.

Marinette began to run, but she noticed a short old man wearing a red floral shirt struggling to cross the street. She made a split-second decision, and jumped in front of the man, pushing him to safety.

“Are you alright sir?” she asked .

The man nodded and helped Marinette gather the things that had fallen out of her school bag.

“That was a very brave thing you just did,” he said, “Few people would have done that.”

Before she could come up with a response, the old man stood up, grabbed his cane, and hobbled away.

Marinette looked and saw her box of macaroons had been trampled during the chaos. She checked her phone and realized she was already five minutes late for homeroom. Awesome.

Luckily, since it was only the first day of school, Marinette was far from the last one in the classroom, and was able to slip into an empty seat without a scolding from her new teacher. She had barely settled into her new seat before a perfectly manicured hand slammed onto the table in front of her.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” called the voice from above her.

Marinette looked up at the girl glaring down at her. Chloé hadn't changed from the last time she saw her. She still had the same golden-blonde hair and icy blue eyes staring down at her as if she were some sort of pest. Marinette rolled her eyes impatiently.

“What do you want, Chloé?” she asked.

“What I want is you out of my seat. Adrien is coming today, and since that is going to be his seat,” she pointed to the empty spot beside Marinette, “This is going to be my seat.”

Marinette looked at her, confused.

“Who’s Adrien?” she asked, “And where is he?”

Chloé cackled and looked at her friend Sabrina.

“Can you believe she doesn’t know who Adrien is? What kind of rock have you been living under, Dupain-Cheng?”

“He’s only a super famous model,” Sabrina said.

Marinette looked down at the table, ashamed. Was she supposed to know who this Adrien was?

“Why don't you get out of my seat and go sit with four eyes over there?” said Chloe, “You don’t deserve to sit next to Adrien if you don’t even know who he is.”

“Who elected you class president,” said a new voice.

Marinette looked up and saw a girl with black glasses and ombre red hair that complimented her dark skin.

Chloé stood up and looked the girl in the eye.

“You look like you’re new around here, so I’ll let you off with a warning,” she said, “My daddy is the mayor of this city. I run this school. You and Dupain-Cheng should take my advice and sit in those seats over there unless you want to get expelled on your first day.”

Chloé waved sarcastically to them as the girl with the glasses grabbed Marinette by the arm and dragged her to the two empty seats on the other side of the classroom.

“Sorry about her,” Marinette said as they sat down, “Chloé’s been this way ever since kindergarten and no one can do anything about it.”

“No worries, girl,” she said, reaching out her hand, “I’m Alya.”

Marinette smiled and shook her hand.

“Marinette.”

She opened the box of macaroons and saw that only one was left intact.

“Friends?” she asked, offering one half to Alya.

Alya smiled as she took it.

“Friends.”

Adrien checked his watch irritably as he arrived at the school. It was his first day at a normal school and he was already running late. He didn’t want to start off with a bad first impression. He was already in enough trouble as it was sneaking off to school without his father’s permission, and he didn’t much like the idea of being caught by his bodyguard before he even entered school grounds. He glanced back at his watch. He had five minutes. He tightened his grip on his bag and rushed up the street, before abruptly crashing into something, and spilling the contents of his school bag all over the pavement. Adrien curses under his breath and starts to gather his things before he ground before he looks up at what he bumped into.

In his line of vision was a short Chinese man, who was sprawled on the ground with his cane a few feet away from him. Adrien took a moment to inspect the man’s strange attire; a red Hawaiian shirt, and tan cargo shorts. As he analyzed the old man, Adrien realized that his belongings had also been thrown across the pavement due to their collision. Before Adrien was able to finish gathering his things, he spotted two familiar figures running up to him; his bodyguard and his father’s assistant, Nathalie.

“Adrien, what are you doing out here? Your father’s been worried sick,” Nathalie said disapprovingly, “Gather you things and get in the car. You’re returning home immediately.” 

Adrien felt a sudden flash of anger at the old man, who was still struggling to stand without his cane.

“Thanks a lot, old man,” he said before sweeping the rest of his belongings in his bag, and grabbing the cane off the ground, shoving it harshly in the man’s direction.

“Thank you, young man,” said the old man, as he grabbed his cane and gathered his fallen belongings.

Adrien didn’t respond as he angrily got into the car before it sped off.

Adrien had never considered himself afraid of his father. Sure, when he disobeyed his rules, which tended to happen more often than not these days, his father could become quite strict and irritable, but never to the point where Adrien had felt fear. But now, as he stood across from his father, he understood why others were so often intimidated by Gabriel Agreste. As he stood, waiting patiently for his father to speak, he took the time to analyze his father. With a jolt, he realized how little he had seen of his father in the past few months following his mother’s disappearance. He noticed his father’s blond hair, which had grown much more gray than what he remembered, his crisp white suite that blended perfectly with the stark white that donned his office, and the thick glasses that framed his cold, calculating gray eyes. After what felt like an eternity, his father finally addressed him.

“Adrien, I have already told you countless times. You are not going to school. I thought I made myself clear.”

Adrien suddenly felt very small.

“But father–”

“But nothing, Adrien,” his father interrupted coldly, “Everything you need is in this house where I can keep an eye on you. You have no reason to be outside in that dangerous world.”

“It’s not dangerous, Father,” Adrien pleaded, “I’ve always been stuck here by myself. Why can’t I just go to school and be normal like everyone else?”

“Because you’re not like everyone else! You are my son!” Gabriel said sharply, “Do you have any more unreasonable requests, or can I return to my office?”

“No, father,” Adrien said, refusing to meet Gabriel’s eyes.

Gabriel crossed the room, coming closer towards Adrien before placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I know that I may seem strict and unreasonable at times, Adrien, but you must know that I’m doing this to keep you safe. Everything I do is for your own good. Do you understand that, Adrien?”

Adrien looked up to meet his father’s gray eyes, which, suddenly, didn't seem so cold and distant.

“Yes, father,” he said at last.

To his father’s dismay, Adrien had not changed his mind after their talk the previous day. He made sure to sneak out much earlier than he had the day before, and was able to slip out of the manor undetected. As he snuck through the silent halls of the manor, Adrien felt a pang of guilt as he spotted his father asleep at his office desk through the wide open doors. He knew that his father worked tirelessly to give him the best life he could, but, as he had come to realize over the past several months, his father didn’t always know best, and Adrien needed to be able to make some decisions for himself. Adrien tore his eyes away from the father and quickly snuck out of the manor before he could be caught.

This time, Adrien was able to enter the school without being caught by his bodyguard, or being knocked over by another old man. The thought of the man from yesterday caused a flash of anger. He was sure he wouldn’t have been caught by Nathalie if he hadn’t slowed him down. Adrien swallowed his anger and entered the classroom. 

“Adrikins!” called Chloé as he sat down, “I was afraid you weren’t coming.”

Marinette stares wide-eyed at the blonde boy sitting next to Chloé.

“That’s Adrien Agreste,” she says to Alya.

Alya looks over at the two blondes.

“Who’s Adrien?” she asks, as she peers at him over her glasses, “Is he famous or something, like Chloé?”

“He’s only a super famous model, and the son of Gabriel Agreste, my all-time favorite fashion designer! I can’t believe I didn’t recognize his name before!”

“Well, if he’s friends with Chloé he can’t be all that great,” said Alya.

Marinette looked over at Adrien, who was busy ignoring Chloé.

“Yeah. I guess you might be right.”

Adrien arrived early for class on his second day and took his seat next to Chloé. It took him longer than it should have to realize that Chloé wasn’t actually sitting next to him. Adrien scanned the room before he spotted her and her friend Sabrina at a table on the other side of the room. He sighed and walked over.

“What exactly are you two doing,” he asked as he walked over.

“Those girls that sat here yesterday need a little adjustment to their attitude,” she said, “I’m simply demanding a bit of respect, that’s all.”

“Is it necessary to put gum on their seat?” he asked raising his eyebrow, “That seems pretty immature to me,”

Chloé looked at him like he was some sort of pitiful animal.

“Oh, Adrikins. You have a lot to learn about how things run around here. Some people are born to be at the top, while others are meant to stay beneath us. Those two brats need to remember their place.”

Adrien rolled his eyes at her.

“You’re acting like a toddler,” he said as he tried picking the gum off of the seat.

The second day of school started off a lot more smoothly for Marinette. She had actually woken up before her alarm and even had time to eat breakfast before going off to school. For a mere second, she could have sworn she saw the old man she had run into the day before, but as soon as she blinked, he was gone.

“That’s odd,” she thought to herself before continuing on her way to school. As she walked up to the school, Marinette quickly spotted Alya standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for her. The girls had quickly become friends after spending the first day of school together and they were practically attached at the hip.

“Hey, girl,” Alya called, waving her over.

Marinette waved back, and the two girls walked into the school together.

“Ready for another exciting day of school?” asked Alya with a sly grin.

Marinette rolled her eyes playfully.

“Yeah. I’m so excited to spend another day with Chloé. That sounds like a dream come true.”

The two girls giggled to themselves as they entered the classroom before they witnessed a scene that shocked both of them.

“Hey!” Marinette called as she stomped over to Adrien, ”What do you think you’re doing?”

Adrien jumped up and gaped at Marinette as Chloé and Sabrina cackled from the other side of the room.

“Oh, I get it,” Marinette said, narrowing her eyes, ”Great job, you three. Very funny.”

Adrien stood up and glared down at her.

“Actually, I was just trying to take the gum off your seat,” he said with an icy tone, “You should be grateful that I went out of my way to help you,”

“You’re friends with Chloé, right?” she asked.

Adrien’s eyes widened in shock.

“Figures,” said Marinette with a huff before walking to her seat.

Adrien rolled his eyes and walked over to his seat next to Chloé, before seeing Sabrina already sitting there. He grabbed his things irritably and walked to the only empty seat. On the other side of the bench, there was a boy sitting there, scrolling through his phone. The boy had deep brown skin and eyes framed by a pair of black glasses. What Adrien found the most notable about his appearance was the pair of large headphones around his neck.

Adrien cleared his throat and went up to him.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” he asked, “Someone took my old seat.”

 The boy shrugged and Adrien set down his stuff and sat next to him.

“I’m Adrien,” he said and stuck out his hand for the boy to shake.

The boy didn’t look up from his phone as he responded.

“I know who you are,” he said, “Hell, everyone in Paris knows who you are.”

He paused for a moment before speaking again.

“You’re friends with Chloé, aren’t you?” he asked.

Adrien shrugged.

“I guess so,”

The boy looked up from his phone and looked Adrien in the eye.

“Why do you put up with her anyway? You don’t really seem like the bullying type,” he asked, “I saw you try to stop them from putting gum on that girl’s seat. Why didn’t you tell her it was all Chloé’s idea? ”

“I’ve known Chloé my whole life, ever since we were kids,” Adrien said, suddenly feeling very vulnerable, “I can’t just throw her under the bus like that. She’s the only friend I have.”

“Well, in that case, it sounds like you need new friends, dude. I’m Nino.”

Adrien shook his hand gratefully and showed him a rare smile as Miss Bustier walked into the room to start class. He was right. His father didn’t always know best.

[huangychen]

Sunshine comes after the storm

I still remember the enormous challenge of COVID-19 posed to me. When I first saw the news about COVID-19 on TV, I didn't realize it was going to be a world-changing disaster. It was an ordinary evening, as usual, I was sitting on the sofa in the living room, watching the long-awaited TV show. Suddenly, red warning words rolled on the screen, many channels were forced to change the news broadcast, the voice of the anchor appeared solemn and serious:

"Hello, everyone. The COVID-19 has recently emerged in many regions, and the situation is very grim." "According to the latest data, the novel corona virus has spread rapidly across the country, and the number of infected people continues to increase." "In response to the outbreak, governments are taking a range of emergency measures, including locking down cities, imposing social distancing and stepping up medical care." "We urge the public to pay close attention to the situation, follow the epidemic prevention measures issued by the government, and protect the health of themselves and their families."

The news played a series of heart-wrenching pictures: hospital patients groaning in pain, medical workers wear heavy protective suits and fighting on the front line, government officials at a press conference to report the latest progress of the epidemic. As I heard reports of how quickly the virus was spreading, and saw scenes of quarantined cities and blocked streets, I began to feel a sense of panic. At the time, I hadn't realized how much of an impact the pandemic would have on my life, and I just felt like it was a distant event that probably had nothing to do with me. However, as time went on and the outbreak gradually spread globally, with new confirmed cases and deaths reported every day, I began to feel increasingly concerned. I came to realize that this was not just a medical crisis, but a social crisis. People are forced to isolate themselves in their homes, economic activity is severely affected, and social order is challenged.

Then my parents and I chose to return the hometown, which is a small village located in the mountains. Afterwards, lockdown was implemented everywhere, and we could hardly go out, not to mention communication with the outside world. In such an environment, I gradually felt lonely and helpless, the long-term home life also made me lose hope for the future. I and my parents, my grandparents and my relatives lived in the old house, it was built themselves, with three floors is big enough for all of us. So I thought that I would be able to spend this time in the company of my family, but this was not the case. As time went by, the life in my hometown became drab and boring. I started lazy and stayed at home all day. My mental state slowly became low, and the effect of online classes was greatly reduced. It was difficult for me to concentrate and my mind often wandered, leading to academic difficulties. My weight started creeping up because of my long life at home, unhealthy eating habits and lack of exercise. My father also became negative because he could not work at home for a long time, often drinking and smoking alone, and sometimes even blamed me for no reason, making me feel at a loss.

I tried to communicate with my father, hoping to understand his emotions, but each time I responded with his anger and indifference. The atmosphere at home became tense and I felt that I could not stand the pressure any longer.

(One night, I couldn't help venting my emotions to my father.)

Me: Dad, I know you're anxious too, but you can't just sit around all day smoking and drinking!

Father: Don't you understand? How difficult our life is now, I can't work, the pressure of the family is all on me, you wouldn't understand!

Me: I'd love to help you, but you never give me a chance.

(Then my mother follow the sound)

Mother: We are a family and should understand and support each other.

Father: I know, but......

After that, my father gradually adjusted his emotions and tried to face the current situation with a more peaceful attitude. My mother and I also began to actively communicate with my father, try to understand his situation, and try to find and solve the problem. In housework activities, I also try to take the initiative to take responsibility and help share the pressure of my father. Such as helping my grandparents water, trim flowers, plant vegetables and so on. These seemingly ordinary things, but let me more deeply appreciate the warmth of the family and the precious affecti

on.deepened the relationship with them.

Since then, I have adjusted my lifestyle. I began to pay attention to health, and insisted on exercising at home every day, whether it was simple physical training or outdoor walking, which made me feel the vitality and strength of life. At the same time, I also try to communicate with my family members and share their life experiences. Such communication not only makes me feel warm and close, but also helps us get out of negative emotions.

In the end, the COVID-19 began to ease, and my family and I returned to a normal life. Looking back on this experience, although difficult and challenging, it gave me a valuable opportunity to think and grow. In adversity, I learned to persevere and positive optimism, learned how to adjust the mentality, how to deal with conflict within the family. This experience has made me a stronger and more mature person and cherish every moment of my life.

[izzysarchivedblogs]

drabble.

Click. Click. CLICK.

That sound was seriously annoying her and it was going to annoy everyone else here which was only her. Alone in her home. It's who knows what hour and she shudders to look. Eyes avoid glancing down at her watch as she crouches down to shuck off her heels, setting them aside out of the doorway. Those can be put away and worried about later or the cleaner services would deal with it instead. Whichever one came first.

An audible sigh leaves her as she crosses from the front door to her kitchen, starting to taking off her watch along with any other accessories. Pepper's home now, she can begin the process of decompressing and pampering herself.

The clock in the kitchen tells her that it's exactly 2:23 A.M. and that's not the most uncommon hour for her to be up by. Even early in her career and life, Pepper's never had the perfectionist routine of being in bed by 10 P.M. as much as she wished she had that rigid of a schedule.

When working with Tony Stark closely was the commonality, she would end up awake at these hours due to Tony and later when the Avengers and superheroes (hey, you're one of those) came along; 2 A.M. felt like a normal hour. Pepper knew she'd be up by 8 A.M. for a 9 A.M. meeting in the morning with fresh makeup and smile on her face.

Her bra is lost sometime before Pepper reaches her bedroom, the grey article haphazardly tossed aside in a way that she's not sure she'll find it in the morning. There's moment of contemplation as lights as flicked on if she should even bother with changing into pajamas and self-care. She'll be able to fix herself up in the morning, hitting the bed seems like the most desirable thought at the moment.

Exhale.

"Okay." She mutters to herself, lights going out again and her thigh hits the bed first before she's letting herself timber over. Being alone allows her the sanctity of coming undone.

Phone is put to the bedside, set on the charger and than it lights up. There's very few notifications that come through this late at night that aren't muted. Text messages.

Tony.

Don't look, Pep, it can wait. He can wait, sleep for the love of-

Shifting around, she pulls herself further up her pillow and pick back up the phone.

[ All fixed up ] [ Waiting for you ]

Vague, but she knows what it's referring to immediately.

It. That. Her suit. Rescue.

Her.

"Fuck." An overwhelming amount of emotions well up and she knows she's got to put a lid on that. It's not too long ago that it happened. Her memories of Happy coming to him, his voice in her ears and the comfort her late husband brought her. Their time would always feel too short.

Being spied on while she cried and broadcast to the general public, JARVIS kidnapping her. She was done with that, all of it. The superhero stuff, wearing her suit, and feeling that different kind of powerful. Like that time as HERA and her team.

Why does it always come crashing down?

She gets it, she gets some of why Tony obsesses, why he can't stop.

Another text comes in.

[ You can stop by ] [ You know how and where ]

Don't text back. Go to sleep, forget about it.

It's been some time since everything went down. Time has been had to process and she feels okay again, strong and ready to take on the world with fire and storm.

Her fingers are already typing a response back. Now he definitely knows that she was still awake.

[ Were the changes made? ]

One of Tony's fastest text backs when it comes to responding to her comes in.

[ Come on you know me ]

She knows she's biting at her lower lip, taking a moment to think and breathe, than letting herself consider everything. Feel it all and make her decisions. Taking time with herself before she texts back.

[ I have room in my schedule to be by at 2 ]

She's not going back out there, not unless she knows she needs to be out but she doesn't need it. There's plenty Pepper can handle and do without a suit, but she could see it. It's good for emergencies, that's what Rescue was for anyways and it's her suit. Hers, no matter what now.