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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut

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solaeter · 3 years

Text

Confession - Megumi Fushiguro

I’m dealing with a doubt spell so writing is kinda hard, but I’ll get past it sooner or later :’) Word Count: 1,670

Warning[s]: None aside from possible errors I didn’t bother to look for.

Mutual pining felt like a blessing and a curse. On one hand, feelings were shared without the worry of denial.

On the other hand..

Neither party could take the initiative to admit these said feelings.

Everyone and their mother could tell that [Name] and Megumi had some serious feelings for one another. You were the only one outside of Nobara and Itadori that he'd hang out with. Hell, he knew you longer than he knew them and tried his best to avoid having you meet them.

Cause as soon as it happened, the bombardment of questions rang through the air. Itadori and Nobara lingered dangerously close, inspecting you and Megumi.

"Since when does Fushiguro have a girlfriend?" Nobara questioned, squinting at you. Her gaze made you shift and her words had your cheeks burning.

"We're not–"

"Lemme guess," Itadori cut you off and Megumi sighs, "This little lady is the only one who can make the great Fushiguro crumble! Am I right??" He asked, knuckle bumping Nobara once they seen the obvious blush spread across your face and Megumi's.

Now you see why he tried to avoid this meeting, even after you questioned why. They were like pesky little rats, itching for information that wasn't their business. But you couldn't blame them, at least they cared.

"We're not dating. She's just a friend." Megumi mumbled, clearly irritated, if not embarrassed. Deep down he wanted to admit that you meant something more to him. God he loved you, but actually coming forth with that confession felt more difficult than any task he's been assigned to.

You on the other hand, also wanted to profess your long harbored feelings. Ever since you met Megumi in middle school, you always found him pretty. Especially when he beat up the bullies, goodness it made your heart flutter.

"What he said. We've been friends since middle school." You chirped, offering a smile to the two observers. Nobara crossed her arms. She's watched plenty of romantic dramas, comedies and all the works to know that you and Megumi were hard-core pining.

"I don't know," She starts, walking around the two of you, "There's something more. Something neither one of you can admit. Don't you agree dumbo?" She looked back at Itadori who blinked at the sudden nickname.

"Yes?" He tilted his head and when she shot him a look that meant death, he nodded quickly. "Yes! Absolutely! I think you two need to have a serious chat."

Megumi pinched the bridge of his nose. He could only handle so much of these two even though he knew they were right. You also knew what they said was right. But how? How can one admit feelings? Especially if it ruins the friendship? You'd be devastated.

But for now, you both needed an exit. You pull out your phone and glance at it. Maybe you had an idea.

"I left something back in my locker that I need for tonight. Wanna join me?" You elbow Megumi, who looks at you as if you were a saint. He nods, grabs your arm and drags you away while ignoring the two behind you.

"Sorry about those two, they're...something." Megumi decided to be polite instead of rude, after all they did care about him. You hook your arm through his and smile.

"It's fine, you three have interesting chemistry. I think they're good for you since I can't be around all the time." You didn't like that Megumi had to attend a school for his powers, but you were also happy for him. The selfish side of you wanted to keep him to yourself, just like it had been for years.

"You think so?"

"Yep, you just gotta open up a little when you're ready. Let them see what makes you so amazing." You gush and Megumi looks away, the praise causing his cheeks to tint with a shade of pink.

The two of you walk in peaceful silence, arm in arm until you both reach the school gates. Luckily they didn't lock up for another hour, but you didn't really need anything. Megumi wasn't stupid, he knew it was nothing more than an excuse, yet you made the trip here anyways.

"So.." You break the silence and separate from Megumi, who watched you move in front of him, your school bag hitting the ground with a thud. "Can we uh..talk about something?"

Megumi felt his stomach lurch and the contents of his lunch threatened to come up. Usually when someone wanted to talk, it could be good or bad. Considering his luck, Megumi only assumed it had to be bad. Yet he remained composed and simply nodded, choosing not to talk in case he faltered.

"I really don't know how to uh..bring this up." You fiddled with your hands, avoiding Megumi's worried gaze and kicked a random rock into the street. The looming silence that followed felt heavy and nearly made him lose his mind.

"Bring what up?" He urged quietly, crossing his arms just to keep himself busy for less than a second. His mind reeled and he didn't even consider the possibility of a confession, well at least from you. He's been trying to think of ways to bring it up without looking like an idiot, but he draws blanks after his head says he won't ever get out of the dreaded friend zone.

"Um..we've been friends for so long. I know everything about you and you about me. I just..after some time I think I might–"

You're cut off by Megumi grabbing your face, his hands were cool to your warm cheeks and his eyebrows were furrowed as he took a deep breath.

"I love you [Name]." He was straight to the point which threw you for a loop. Your mouth dropped and then closed quickly. The little shit took the words right from you. Granted you were prolonging the confession but you were getting there!

When you don't answer immediately, Megumi mumbles a quick apology and backs away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"No, no don't confess and back away!" You pull him back toward you, hugging him once you two collide. His arms wrap instinctively around your figure, even though he was slightly hesitant. He felt like he was treading on glass while you were stupidly over the moon.

"You took the words right out of my mouth." You say shyly, resting your head against his chest. His heart quickly thumped in your ear, much like how yours did the same.

Megumi's world shifted or so he thought. All his fears towards his feelings vanished and it was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. You shared the same feelings and of course he should have seen it. Others called you both out, especially the two idiots who hounded earlier. Was he really that blind? Or stupidly oblivious?

Either way, he didn't know what to do now.

"So we felt the same all this time." Megumi says more to himself and you look up at him. When your eyes meet, he takes a moment to admire your pretty orbs. This was his first time being able to actually look at you without having to sneak glances or be called weird for staring. His cheeks warmed once again and you smiled.

"I guess so. Leave it to us to rely on your pesky friends to actually break the silence." You giggle, adjusting so that your arms wrap around Megumi's neck. He bends to match your height, coming face to face.

The air would usually turn awkward but this time, you both silently stare until you look away with a tiny smile tugging at your lips.

"What?" Megumi questioned. He didn't know the first thing about romance. Or even women for that matter. But he knew you, like a book. Except at this moment, he felt clueless. His mind ran in circles, leaving him a happy mess inside his head.

"Oh nothing." You bite the inside of your cheek. His gaze made you squirm and heat shift from your cheeks to your ears as well. Why did it feel so different?? Yet so welcome? "You're just really pretty okay? And I finally get to say it without being looked at funny." You pout, glancing at Megumi who blinks.

"I– So are you." He responds calmly despite every nerve in his body screaming. You turn your head back toward him and act before you can think by pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss.

Megumi freezes, eyes wide and alert when your soft lips meet his. Though he quickly closes his eyes and keeps you close by cupping your cheek. He didn't think, his body acted on its own and boy did it feel nice. He didn't think he'd ever experience something like this. Something so normal and innocent in his dangerous life.

When you both pull back, neither one of you can look at one another. Instead you pick up your school bag and drape it over your shoulder. Megumi rubs the back of his neck, fully prepared to face some type of scolding. But it never comes when you take his hand.

"Whenever you're not busy being a badass sorcerer, maybe we can go out or something?" You ask, lacing your fingers through his. Megumi looks down at your intertwined hands before glancing at you.

"Yeah." He didn't hesitate to answer and started to pull you toward the direction that led home. You hum delightfully and let him lead you without another word.

Did you imagine your confession would happen the way it did? You couldn't say, but you could admit to the hopeless daydreams of romantic scenarios playing out in the most cliché manner. You were swept off your feet by the marvelous, perfect man, yet none of those silly dreams stood a chance at how perfect everything played out with Megumi.

Even if it took two so called idiots to set it in motion.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro imagine #megumi fushiguro oneshot

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barnesand · 3 years

Text

the scent of old stories [ ii ]

Summary: You haven’t found your thing here in Brooklyn, but you hope that you’ve found it within the bookstore that happens to be on your work commute. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader AU: *chants* bookshop au, bookshop au, bookshop au. Warnings: No warnings for now! author’s note: we have one cameo for this story so far, but hey, we’re back in the bookstore and the pining shall commence.

chapter one can be found here: x

You thought that your tedious workload would drown out the reminiscing thoughts of yesterday, but you were wrong. Despite having your hands full with at least ten toddlers that were all vying for your attention (Jess needed you to look at her blue clay creation, despite you having no actual clue what it was supposed to be), you mind still found its way back the Second Hand. Working at a day care center is usually all-consuming—you couldn’t think of the last time you found yourself blinking away thoughts, not when there were so many things happening all at once.

Not that the children you cared for were the embodiment of chaos. But you had to pay attention to them—they were toddlers.

Your encounter with Bucky was three days ago. And in those three days, your mind still plagued you with a looping thought: why haven’t you gone back? Your mind was very correct in questioning your avoidance of the store. There was no point to it—clearly, Bucky was flirting with you. You might have lost your ability to return flirtatious remarks, because of reasons, but there was no denying that fact. Bucky wanted you to come back, to get that list of his favorite haunts. And, maybe, he would tag along on a few of those locations.

Ninety percent of your brain was scolding you about it, while the remaining ten percent remained on the fence about it. You know—good old denial: because what if he wasn’t?

You wouldn’t call yourself outright pathetic for believing what the ten percent had to say, but you were disappointed in yourself. Disappointed that you couldn’t give in and just do it—you did, after all, make a deal to return. Bucky had given you a free book, and that free book had come with a condition, and you had to honor it. What kind of person would you be—what kind of bibliophile would you be—if you didn’t honor it? But because you still quaked at the idea of returning, and because you feared that you would become a sputtering mess once again, you wouldn’t.

You’d considered gaining an outside perspective—but you didn’t really know your coworkers well enough. You spoke to them about several things, of course, but you hadn’t delved into the personal topics yet. You also humored the idea of calling your mother—but you really didn’t need to go down that wormhole of call. She’d find your indecisive thoughts a hint that you secretly wanted to come back home and you didn’t want to have an argument over that again.

By now, your ten toddlers have been corralled by another associate into quiet time—and for a brief second you considered asking your kids if you should go back to the pretty man at the bookstore. No—no, that’s too complicated of a story to tell and their track record with opinions wasn’t doing so well for you.

Your quiet dilemma would remain that—a quiet one.

In the last hours of your shift, you tried to occupy your mind as much as possible. The toddlers kept in your care must have noticed the keen focus you developed, because they seemed more chaotic than usual. By the end of it, they were nearly tired out as their parents picked them up. Once the last child was picked up, you quickly cleaned up the mess they’d made. Indeed, you did manage to lose track of those plaguing thoughts, but the moment you were alone they returned as loud as ever. You pressed your head to the too-small crafting table and let out a meager sigh.

“Do I go?” You said out loud, tapping your forehead once more—you wanted to knock the solution out of your head, but it wasn’t really working.

“Go where?”

You didn’t move from your position entirely, instead only shifting your head to the side to find one of your coworkers in the doorway to the playroom. Joaquin Torres was one of the coworkers you’d considered telling about your current situations. He was nice—well, nearly everyone who worked with you seemed nice, but he felt genuinely nice. He didn’t enter the room entirely, instead leaning the top half of his body inward. Almost as if he didn’t want to impose on your moment. You lifted your head, pulling yourself up from your crouching position to stand.

“Um,” you started. You straightened your clothes, re-tucking your shirt into your slacks. “Well—there’s this bookstore on the way home, and I don’t know if I should go back.”

“You like books, don’t you? Seems like an easy yes.” He joked, bringing himself into the room.

Oh, you wished it were an easy decision for you. The laugh that left you was short, slightly strained. Your hands settled on your hips.

“One would think that.” You nibbled at the inside of your cheek. “But the owner is really cute. And I think he’s expressed interest in me. I—yeah, I’m usually not like this around men but he’s really cute.”

He nodded. You couldn’t believe it was that easy to talk to him about it—geez, you should have mentioned it to him days ago. Even if he wasn’t responding right away, but you could see the contemplation in the furrow of his brow and that was enough. If Joaquin could just make that decision for you, all the weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders would be lifted easily. Come to your rescue, please. Joaquin put his hands on his hips and gave yet another nod.

“You should probably stock up on kids’ books. It looks like they took a few.” He pointed to the bookshelf behind you—which, to your knowledge, was fuller than it usually was. But… you got the point. “Does this bookstore carry children’s books.”

Your heart was sputtering along, like the little engine that could. The only problem was that you don’t think you can. But you’ve already decided that you would follow Joaquin’s choice. If that meant that you would have to go to the Second Hand on your way home from work—for children’s books—then that was simply what you had to do. And if you saw Bucky instead of his employee, then that was just a bonus. Your sputtering heart could handle it; you think.

“Then,” you said, drawing in a deep sigh. “I will go grab some more books.”

You didn’t expect for the mid-September chill to creep in so quickly, but you wound up clutching your reefer coat closer to your body as you walked down the street. The small shop sign above the Second Hand grew closer, and your hands were already clammy at the idea of seeing him again. You already resigned to following Joaquin’s plan, that your intentions for coming in were for the kids only, but your body reacted otherwise. You’d stopped in front of the insurance agency, drawing in a deep breath to steel your nerves.

It didn’t work, but it was worth a shot.

A minute passed before you practically shoved yourself forward, scampering past the first window and through the door. The bell sang above you, and only the heads of other patrons perked up at the sound of it. To you, that felt like a good sign. Maybe he would become too occupied by the other people in the store to notice that you came back. You didn’t see any signs of Bucky, but you did find the aisle for children on the first floor, and you quickly made your way to the section.

It was colorful to say the least, and despite the fullness of the shelves it was surprisingly well organized. When it came to children’s books, though, you always veered toward the colorful ones. You crouched down, your fingers gliding across the thin spines of the books. The titles didn’t directly jump out at you, but then again, your mind was occupied, and you were constantly side glancing at the end of the aisles. But crouching on your knees, especially after a long day, proved taxing and you quickly moved to sit cross-legged on the floor. You did have three books picked out so far.

You heard the familiar thrum of Alpine’s purring behind you, and soon felt the feline brushing up against your back. You looked over your head, already smiling at the sight of them. How rude you were to not consider seeing Alpine again when you were stressing over the initial decision. Of course, you missed them, and their spine that was practically begging to be pet. But when you reached for them, they moved out of the way, only to come back. You shook your head, lightly laughing beneath your breath.

“What a tease,” you whisper, bending down.

You managed to rest a single fingertip beneath Alpine’s chin, scratching softly until the purring was so loud it could be a beacon to other cats. Your smiling was beaming, and you dared to scratch behind their ear.

You saw him move in a blur past your aisle, a massive stack of books in his arms—arms that were surprisingly thick and strained against the fabric of his Henley shirt. You would have paused the attention you were giving Alpine, but they absolutely refused to let you stop. And you didn’t have any time to move to a different aisle before Bucky reversed and filled the end of the aisle.

He wasted no time when it came to showing you that smile that made you swoon—almost, but your cheeks did feel warmer. You did smile back, hand still on Alpine.

“Hi,” you said first.

“Look who showed up,” Bucky responded with a short laugh. “Lemme put these books down, Reader. Hang on.”

As exhilarating as it was to watch him hold all those books, which caused your stomach to become all fluttery, you nodded in response. Were you always into arms? You’d assumed you were more into asses, but maybe you were wrong—it could just be all of him. Either way, he disappeared for a moment, and you quickly stole a breath for yourself. You considered standing up, but your legs felt as heavy as cement at the thought of it and you merely set the children’s books on one of the shelves and put your hands in your lap.

When Bucky came back, he had a folded papers in his hand and in one swift movement settled on to the floor beside you, his back pressed to the bookshelf you were facing. The three days you spent avoiding must’ve erased your memory of his appearance because pretty didn’t seem to cut it anymore. Your skin felt hot, your eyes tracing along the sharpness of his jawline, and your mouth practically watering at the pinkness of his soft lips. You were in way too deep, and, again, you were suddenly so concerned about Bucky noticing it.

He eyed you, the light from the fluorescents catching the cerulean of his irises so well. Like crystal clear waters.

He cleared his throat, unfolding the papers in his hand and from what you could tell he put too much effort into the list. Your eyes widened and you choked on a snort.

“Okay, uh,” you stammered for words. “That’s a lot.”

“I told you it would be extensive,” he chortled. “You’ve spent months here and you’ve only gone to the Brooklyn Bridge? It’s offensive.”

“I’ve gone to Coney Island!” You defended yourself. You leaned in, a momentary lapse in judgement. You eyed the list. “Which you’ve put on the list, by the way.”

“It’s for the experience.” He pointed beneath it, and you saw that he’d scribbled bullet points between each attraction he wanted you to see. “Two Coney dogs and then the Cyclone.”

You already found your mind filtering through the imagery of you on the Cyclone, knuckles blanched white as you gripped the handlebars for dear life. That wasn’t the issue, but instead the issue that arose from Bucky’s experience was the future candid photo immortalizing you vomiting the hot dogs you would have ingested beforehand. The hidden cameras on theme park rides always captured the worst moment, and for all you knew, that’s what Bucky was hoping for.

“You put thought into this list,” you commended him. “And you don’t even know me.”

A lot more thought than you’d initially anticipated; it would have made more sense if he simply told you a couple of places to visit. But to make at least two pages worth of locations and hidden spots for someone he’d only met once made no sense to you—that level of detail was better used one someone he knew.

He drew in a hiss of air, shoulders lifting in exaggeration before he seemed to settle on his next thought before glancing down at the list that now saw neatly in your lap. The tip of his tongue slipped out between his lips, swiping at the corner of his mouth—a habit you’ve come to notice, in the two times you’ve seen him.

“What better way to get to know each other than by doing the things on my list.”

You might as well resign yourself to this fate; it wasn’t as if you were going to be outright tortured by him (torture, fortunately, was nowhere to be found on his list). No, the fear that bubbled up your throat was purely at the idea that after all of this Bucky might realize that making such an extensive list may have been wasted on you. You weren’t boring, but you sedentary life had created a barrier between you and uninhibited fun. All those years at grad school where you buckled down to work on your degree had muffled that ability have fun.

But you wanted to get to know him. You wanted to know about the store, and how it came to be. There were other things—other things that made your cheeks redden and mouth water—that you wanted to know as well, but those would be better kept to yourself.

Finally, after much quiet thought, you nodded at him.

“We did have a deal.” You waved the list in the air. “So what are we doing first?”

He smiled widened, and you lost your breath when he moved to pat your thigh with a metallic hand. “Attagirl, Reader.”

#( bucky barnes. )#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bookstore au #mcu fanfiction

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fforsythiaaa · 4 years

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Sweater Weather Tarot

Y’all, never have I ever created fan art or anything... and I still haven’t. Because I can’t draw. But after @lumosinlove mentioned a Sweater Weather tarot deck, I had to cross over this amazing story (which you should 100% read immediately) with my only other creative talent -- reading tarot.

Click through for the Major Arcana as Sweater Weather. (Please, please, someone make my dreams come true and illustrate these.)

spoilers abound, read the fic first!!! 0 - The Fool - James The start of the tarot encourages us to think about the hopeful, confident feelings we have at the beginning of a journey. James is overly excited about welcoming Sirius to the team, about Lily’s pregnancy, then later about Coops and O’Knutzy. He’s a tad oblivious - the main caution that the fool gives us - but we all wish we had his optimism.

1 - The Magician - Dumo The magician is the one who sees all, knows all, and makes shit happen. Can you think of anyone who better represents creative problem-solving, using intuition to guide actions, charisma, power, benevolence? Daddy Pascal all the way.

2 - The High Priestess - Natalie Even though she’s a relatively minor character, it’s clear to everyone that Natalie knows exactly who she is and she acts like it. She’s a bad-ass who knows what she wants and gets it. That’s the high priestess - balancing our internal and external drives, goals, and motivations.

3 - The Empress - Lily I know, I know, put the pregnant lady on the card featuring.... a pregnant lady? The empress encourages us to embrace our compassion, empathy, and healing powers; she tells us to bring new things into the world, whether that’s literally small people or creative projects or new relationships. She’s so supportive of Loops, James, and Sirius that she deserves this (my favorite card!)

4 - The Emperor - The League Is is cheating to put a kind of abstract body here? The emperor represents the structures in our life that give us rules and regulations. Sometimes, that’s a good thing - we can all use a little routine and structure for stability. Sometimes it can feel oppressive. The League is responsible for bringing all our favorite characters together, but its power makes them feel scared of breaking the rules.

5 - The Hierophant - Minnie A hierophant is a religious leader; in the tarot, he taps into The Rules and uses them to provide guidance on the journey. Minnie, as Sirius’s agent, knows how to guide him along that traditional path as a star hockey player without too much damage to who he is inside. She’s going to work within the system to give the press some Brothers Black drama to distract other news, but she’s proud as hell when he snaps back at nosy reporters. She’s the best.

6 - The Lovers - Coops What did you expect??? In the Tarot, this card isn’t just about romantic relationships with others - it’s also about our relationship to ourselves. Sirius and Remus are both healing and building their relationships with their own identities throughout the course of their careers and lives in SW. Their growth together and individually is what makes them perfect for this card.

7 - The Chariot - Finn This card represents action, action, action - even if you’re not sure which direction that action is headed in. Finn dates June, kisses Leo, runs after Logan, shares their relationship with team... all of this to keep himself moving forward. Maybe it’s not a linear path, but he’s sure as hell skating running down it.

8 - Justice - the Blizzard Honestly I think this card is such a perfect pairing with the High Priestess. Justice asks us to think broadly about what is fair, to ourselves and to others. At Remus’s during All-Stars, Kasey sums up perfectly how Sirius's reaction wasn’t fair to anyone involved -- it’s a moment that really hit home for me what a stand-up guy he is!

9 - the Hermit - 36 Missed Calls It’s good to take time out to retreat and evaluate yourself, your life, your next steps. The hermit isn’t a “bad” card, by any means. But we can’t hide forever, and we have to choose when our self-reflection is going do the most good, for ourselves and for the ones around us.

10 - Wheel of Fortune - O’Knutzy The wheel reminds us that sometimes it’s best to go with the flow and trust that the right opportunities will present themselves at the right times. Sometimes you just gotta wait 8 years for your missing piece to show up, okay? I’m not crying.

11 - Strength - Sirius TW: coming out, being outed, abuse (mentions, not graphic) This card always gets me because the Waite-Smith illustration reminds us that strength doesn’t always look like we would assume. Sometimes it’s just surviving, just making it another day, even if you’re not doing the most “courageous” thing. It’s hard to not be out, it’s hard to come out, it’s hard to be outed. And it’s hard to experience abuse and hard to have abuse in your past. Sirius knows a thing or two about strength, okay, plus this card has a lion on it, so there you go.

12 - the Hanged Man - Leo Where the hermit retreats to do his self-reflection and thinking, the hanged man takes his time to reflect out in the open. His upside-down position represents considering that what’s expected of you might not serve you. The most observant guy on the team could teach us a thing or two about stepping back to step up.

13 - Death - Regulus Listen. LISTEN. Death is a great card to pull in the Tarot. It signifies the end of an old chapter and the beginning of a new one. When Regulus and Sirius cut off their mother and Reg agrees to come back to Gryffindor, he ends that chapter of the Black brothers’ lives, allowing a new one to start.

14 - Temperance - Arthur I’m 100% basing this on the snippet that Haz shared where Arthur tells everyone not to bring their relationship drama onto the ice. He’s clearly so happy, but there’s also a game to play and a cup to win. Balance, boys, everything in balance.

15 - the Devil - Paparazzi & Press Sure, we’re mad at the paps and want to characterize them as negatively as possible, but truthfully they’re more complicated. The paparazzi and the press represent the temptation of caring about what others think... it’s fine to care a little bit, but when you care to the point of sacrificing yourself and your own growth, you’ve given into a dangerous temptation.

16 - the Tower - Greyback, Walburga, and The Photo When everything falls apart in a spectacular mess, that’s the tower for ya. Greyback, Sirius’s mom, and the photo are the ones that set off the chain of obstacles that Sirius and Remus overcome in SW. Of course in hindsight we’re glad the tower fell so that we can build up a better one, but wow, did it have to suck so much? Like the death card, the tower also paves the way for new beginnings, but we can grieve the way it happened.

17 - the Star - Remus You thought it would be Sirius, didn’t you? Well the star is a “dreams come true” card, and Remus knows something about that. Even when his hockey career was ended before it began, he pivoted and created a new dream to go by; his dreams of love may have taken a back-burner, but now they’re coming truuuue <3 thanks for letting me be so corny

18 - the Moon - Logan The phases of the moon remind us that nothing is permanent. Even if there’s some mystery about what’s going to come next, our worries aren’t going to prevent the sun from rising. Logan was perhaps a little reticent to move from his “ignoring feelings” phase into “yay love amazing relationship” phase. He hid a little bit from himself and from Finn. But it’s all going to be great!

19 - the Sun - Julian & Adele We look to the sun for happiness, confidence, inspiring happiness in others -- the next generation is certainly a source of that. Hazelnuts love Julian and Adele because they represent how amazing life can be for our favorite Lions.

20 - Judgement - Hazel @lumosinlove She’s engineering the whole show. Us Hazelnuts can only wait with bated breath for her to bless us with the next chapters of Sweater Weather and Coast to Coast! 21 - the World - the Cup *knocks on wood* *throws salt over left shoulder* This card is the end of the journey in the Major Arcana and it’s achieving our goals - growth, love, stability, creativity, new knowledge, whatever your heart needs or desires. It’s not just about winning a championship for our characters.... it’s about living a complex and fulfilled life, with love, hockey, self-confidence, family, friends, and maybe a Cup, too. *knocks on wood again*

#sweater weather #lumosinlove #coops #o'knutzy #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #wolfstar #tarot #wolfstar tarot #fanfiction tarot #rider-waite #waite-smith #coast to coast #c2c #sw

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laequiem · 3 years

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No tricks, only treats [ONESHOT]

/ Cardan and Jude join the rest of the family to enjoy Halloween in the Mortal World.

Part of Tales from the Mortal Realm, a collection of random moments in the lives of the Queen and King of Elfhame.

"Is it strange that I find you attractive dressed as such?"

I was looking at myself in the mirror, assessing my outfit, when Cardan sneaked into the room. His training with The Ghost was paying off, he was as silent as ever.

"Strange? Yes. Surprising? No."

Read it on ao3

"Is it strange that I find you attractive dressed as such?"

I was looking at myself in the mirror, assessing my outfit, when Cardan sneaked into the room. His training with The Ghost was paying off, he was as silent as ever.

"Strange? Yes. Surprising? No."

I saw him prowl towards me through the glass. He slid his arms around my waist, staring at me through my reflection.

Today is October 31st and Oak insisted we join him in celebrating Halloween. Of course, this means we all need costumes. I decided to go as the one character I knew more than anyone else.

Cardan.

I looked through his wardrobe for my outfit. It was quite hard to find a top that was loose enough to account for my breasts, as most of his clothes were tailored to fit him perfectly. I also found a dark blue coat, its collar covered in iridescent feathers. I gave up trying to find pants in his collection, as my hips would never fit, and just wore a pair of black leggings with black combat boots.

"What do you mean, dear Jude?"

"The only thing you love more than booze is yourself."

He raised his brows, making a show of looking offended.

"Your capacity to lie to yourself will always impress me,” he said then plucked a kiss to my temple, “I love you more than I love wine."

I don’t think I will ever get over him being caring . It felt as if he was a completely different person from the boy who would disturb lessons just to get attention.

Cardan turned me to face him, then inspected my face. “Something is missing.” He took my hand and directed me to his personal vanity. He opened the drawer and pulled out some cosmetics. He lined my eyes with kohl and coated my lashes with dark mascara. I suppressed my laugh when I saw he was so concentrated that he had stuck out his tongue. Then, he took out some glittery gold powder and applied it on my cheekbones.

He took a step back to look at his handiwork and smiled.

“And the final touch,” he said as he plucked his crown off his head and put it on my head at an angle, “Voilà!”

I looked at myself in the mirror. I did not bother with any kind of wig. I put my hair up in elaborate braids, letting a few short curls hang in a few places. Yet, even without his signature dark hair, I still looked like him. I made faces at myself in the mirror, trying to get his grin right.

Finally, I got up. “Your turn now, dearest Cardan.”

When Heather learned that Cardan would be coming too, she started suggesting outfits for him. She even went as far as drawing some of them. Something about his otherworldly looks inspired her. Maybe it's the tail, since a lot of her designs included it: a devil, sexy cat man and my personal favorite, a cute puppy.

In the end, I chose my own, petty idea. I walked in the closet and pulled out the outfit I had the servants clean for the occasion.

“A King needs his Queen,” I grinned as I revealed the Queen of Mirth dress and crown.

Cardan threw his head back laughing. “You sure know how to hold a grudge.”

Thankfully, my husband was a team player, and he went with it. Even in this, he looked strikingly handsome. Or pretty, I guess. Unfair.

We landed in Maine in the early afternoon. It was strange to be awake so early, but Cardan did not seem bothered at all. We met up with Vivi, Heather, Oak, Taryn and Garrett at the entrance to FallFest, some kind of harvest festival that was held every October in the local park. It had everything from harvest contests to food stands, a section with typical carnival games, a small hay maze and even a haunted house.

I was not surprised to see my eldest sister dressed up, she went crazy for Halloween every year. Vivienne would dress up for a week straight before Halloween, even when she still lived in Elfhame. She was wearing a tight black bodysuit with a tail and claws as well as a black leather mask with cat ears. Heather dressed up as some kind of … plant lady? She had a short bodysuit made of green ivy leaves, green stockings and a long red wig. Oak was with them, wearing a reddish pink shirt with a big yellow star on it. I can only assume they went for pop-culture references I am unfamiliar with.

The real surprise was seeing my twin Taryn and her quiet lover also dressed up.

"What are you dressed as?", Cardan inquired, cocking his head to the side, "You ought to have dressed as Jude, you have already proved to be so good at it."

I snapped my head at him and slammed my foot as hard as I could on his. He was joking, of course. But the peace between me and Taryn was still fairly new. We mostly kept to ourselves and rarely talked. Garrett was back with the Court of Shadow and we were friendly, but he kept his professional and personal lives completely separated.

Cardan was hopping on one foot, scowling at me like he did not understand why I was upset. Taryn understood, though. She was sheepishly looking at the ground.

"I… I'm sorry for tricking you, Cardan."

I tried finding something to say to end the awkwardness. I wanted Cardan to apologize for what he said, but I knew he would not. Fae don't apologize.

Thankfully, Vivi broke the silence. "C'mon guys, we're here to HAVE FUN!" she complained, "What ARE you two dressed as?"

"Phantom of the Opera." Garrett replied.

"Nerds."

"Says the one dressed up as Catwoman." Garrett mocked.

The bickering continued, though less mean-spirited than Cardan’s original comment, as we walked down the main path. Our first stop was the pumpkin carving station. Each couple got their own pumpkin to carve, though Vivi and Heather’s pumpkin was mostly Oak’s handiwork and the couple making sure he did not stab himself. Taryn and Garrett made some intricate flower design on theirs, Garrett being the one doing the carving of course. As for us, well… Cardan had creative ideas, but no skills with a blade, and my skills were more of the stabbing variety. We settled on giving our pumpkin a traditional jack-o-lantern face.

After the effort of carving pumpkins, we were starving. Oak was complaining, dragging his feet on the ground so much that Vivi and Heathers were holding both of his hands to pull him along. Behind them, I saw Taryn with her arm looped around The Ghost's.

I was suddenly very aware that Cardan and I were the only ones not holding hands.

Nobody knows us here. We needn't keep the appearance of the power couple, together to rule and nothing else.

I took my hand out of the pockets of my borrowed coat and tentatively brushed my fingers against Cardan's hand. I saw him whip his head towards me, and I blushed when I witnessed the surprise in his face. Soon enough, he smiled. One of those smiles he kept for me and only me, blissful and happy. The smile he gives me when we have the time to spend hours cuddled together in bed, enjoying each other's presence.

Cardan took my hand and squeezed. I squeezed back.

We spent the rest of the afternoon eating good food, trying to guess the weight of giant pumpkins and visiting a haunted house. Cardan was fascinated by the weird human traditions and absolutely ecstatic about the food. Pumpkin-spiced flavored food will become the new trend in Elfhame, judging by his reaction.

When the sun started to go down, Taryn and Garrett left for Madoc’s, who decided to try giving out candy to the trick-or-treaters. Heather and Vivienne had initially volunteered to take Oak trick-or-treating himself, but when one of their friends invited them to a party, we offered to take him instead. Oak was excited to spend more time with me and “Uncle Cardan”.

I had not gone trick-or-treating in...10 years? Maybe 12? Since my parents died. Cardan, obviously, had never gone. So, dressed up as each other, with Oak dressed as some cartoon character, we roamed the residential streets of the city to beg for sweets.

“If it is called ‘trick-or-treat’, does that mean I can make bargains if someone refuses to give me candy?” Cardan asked as we watched Oak go up to a house.

I gave him my best ‘I’ll-strangle-you-if-you-do’ stare. “No. No turning people into cats, no curse making them hear imaginary insects buzzing around their ears.”

“Why is it called trick-or-treat, then?”

Vivienne told me they had to explain this to Oak, too, a few weeks ago. Someone at school had mentioned being excited to go trick-or-treating and my brother had been very confused.

“I don’t know.”

Cardan hmmed and smirked, “Perhaps the Folk were involved when the holiday was first established.”

I crossed my arms.

“If that’s the case, not all traditions need to be brought back.”

He laughed at that, then reached around me and pulled me closer to him.

“You win. I won’t trick anyone,” he crooned in my ear, “but I want a kiss for being well behaved.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically. “So needy.”

Once again, I had to remind myself that nobody knows us here. Nobody recognized our costumes today: in the mortal world, dressed as each other, we were only The Guy In An Ugly Dress and Fashionable Emo Boy. Nobody knew we are King and Queen of Elfhame, therefore there are no expectations to be the hedonistic king and his murderous wife.

I slid my hand behind his neck and pulled him down. I felt him smile as I captured his lips with mine.

“Ew, gross!” Oak’s voice came from the other end of the driveway, “Stop that, come here.”

Reluctantly, we pulled away from each other and looked towards the house. Oak was in front of the opened door, talking with a couple.

“Honey, look,” the tallest woman exclaimed as we walked down the driveway, “She’s dressed as High King Cardan!”

“Oh my god,” the other one replied, sounding so very human, “that sounds kind of profane. Do you think he would have her hung for this?”

As I looked at the two women, I realized that Oak had stumbled upon the house of a Fae couple. They saw through his glamour, and he saw through theirs.

“This is my sister Jude,” Oak started, “and this is my Uncle Cardan.”

Both females had gone completely still and were staring at Cardan with wide eyes. Simultaneously, they bowed deeply.

“Forgive us, Your Majesty. We weren’t expecting you.”

“We so rarely see our kind around here,” the shorter one said nervously, “we… wanted to meet who little Oak was with.”

“We have tea, if you would like.”

I dared a glance at Cardan and noticed he seemed amused. Was he delighted to make them uncomfortable?

“That won’t be necessary,” he said as he took my hand, “My wife has us on a tight schedule, we have other houses to visit. Have a nice evening.”

I caught the emphasis on wife and realized they only recognized him as royalty. ‘ Your Majesty ’, singular. I could tell from the two females’ expressions that they also understood their mistake. I felt bad for them knowing they had no ill intent, probably unaware of the situation in Faerie. Yet, I could not help the grin that crept on my face. I worked hard to become High Queen. I fought and killed my way through the ranks, almost dying. Multiple times. I made decisions that will haunt me until the day I die. I am High Queen, and the Folk must know.

“It was nice meeting you,” I say as I take Oak’s hand, “You are welcome to visit us at the palace if you wish.”

My memories from before Faerieland were to blurry, I did not remember getting so much candy. Did Taryn and I get that much? How could we possibly have eaten all of that? Cardan and I each had a smaller bag, only accompanying Oak to some of the doors, but Oak had multiple full bags. Once he went to sleep, Oriana was more than happy to give us some. She had learned how bad candy was for children’s teeth - even little Fae kids. She filled little bags for us to take back to Elfhame.

Like anyone eating candy for the first time, Cardan went a little crazy. He wanted to try everything. Faeries might be different in a lot of ways, but I now have proof that chocolate is addictive even to them.

The High King of Elfhame ate so much candy that he fell asleep on the couch, to the former General’s dismay.

#tfota #the folk of the air #cardan #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #judecardan #jude duarte #the cruel prince #the wicked king #queen of nothing #holly black #fanfic #fluff #laequiem

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thebrotherssalvatore321 · 3 years

Text

Keeping Secrets Ch. 34

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

Pairing: past: DamonxOc, TylerxOc, ElijahxOc. Future: KlausxOc. Warnings: Smut-ish and a gif containing nudity towards the end.

Katie managed to mind her own business for a month. Her only friends at school were Rebekah, who talked her out of quitting cheer considering that during their routines was the only time Katie ever smiled anymore, and Caroline who had stopped ignoring her and talked to her like they used to despite keeping certain things to themselves. Klaus had been busy dodging attempts against his and Rebekah’s lives. Like Damon and Stefan killing Finn in an attempt to kill all the originals, but Klaus had made Bonnie un-link the siblings, so it didn’t work. It did, however, reveal that when an original is killed, every vampire they’ve turned along with anyone those vampires turned, died.

Even with everything going on, Klaus managed to find time to shoot her a random text here and there to check up on her. She always replied with, I’m fine, but he knew she wasn’t. Rebekah had also tried to talk Katie into going to the 20’s decade dance tonight, but Katie just didn’t think she could sit through a stupid dance without being completely miserable.

She was sitting at her kitchen table doing homework when she heard someone knock on the door. She didn’t answer, assuming it was Rebekah coming to try one more time to get her to go to the dance, whoever it was let themselves inside. “Rebekah I told you I’m not going to that stupid dance.” She sighed only to see Klaus when she looked up. He wore an off white tux, a blue and white tie and a yellow hankie in the pocket of his jacket. His hair was slightly gelled and parted on the side. If she was being completely honest she didn’t think it was his best look.

“Well she may have failed at getting you to go but she successfully talked me into it.” He informed her as her eyes took in the green dress with black sparkling beads all over it and tassels hanging off the short zig-zag hem line, knotted white beads, a green headband with peacock feathers on it and a pair of black satin gloves were looped over the hook of the hanger that hung off his long nimble index finger.

“And she asked you to ask me to be your date?” Katie asked tiredly.

“Actually it was my idea.” He told her with a closed lipped smile. “You’ve been locking yourself in this house every day after school. You need to get out and have some fun.”

“I can assure you that a high school dance will not be fun.” She told him flatly. “Besides there’s like a seventy five percent chance that something is going to go incredibly wrong at that dance given the fact that since Damon and Stefan came to town our dances have been a hot spot for vampire, witch, werewolf activity.”

“If I’m going so are you.” he walked over, gently grabbed her arm and pulled her up from the chair with ease.

“I’ve told you once and I tell you again, I don’t take orders from you.” she told him as she took her arm out of his hand.

“Such defiant words from a woman with not even the slightest spark of fire in her eyes.” he told her as he cupped her chin in his big hand. “My brother extinguished you. I have every intention of setting you ablaze once again.” The look in his eyes sent a shiver through her spine that made her swallow hard and drop her eyes. When she looked back up at him he gave her a smirk and slipped his thumb over her cheek bone. “Now, go get dressed.” He lifted the dress up, but instead of taking it from him she cocked a brow at him and a smirk of her own tugged at the corner of her lips. He rolled his eyes. “Please.” She took the dress and went up stairs.

An hour later she came down stairs wearing the dress. Her hair was simply twisted and tucked at the back of her head to make her blond and red tresses appear short and the headband went across her forehead, the bundle of peacock feathers sat above her right ear. Simple eyeshadow let her red lips be the focal point of her face. “The shoes don’t really match, but they are the only black ones I own.” She motioned to the black heals she wore to homecoming.

“Trust me, Love, no one will be looking at your feet.” He told her, drinking her in as she walked over to him, the tassels brushing against her upper thighs as she did.

“Then tell me, what will they be looking at?” she asked, not breaking eye contact with him as she grabbed her keys and debit card off the table behind the couch that they were standing next to then put them in the black clutch in her hand along with her lipstick and makeup wipes.

His eyes moved down to her red lips then a little further taking in how the lines of black beads on the bust of the dress accented her curves before he looked back up at her eyes. “Lucky for you the women of the 1920’s were fairly modest when it came to the necklines of their dresses.”

“Yeah…lucky me.” She sighed then snapped the clutch shut. “Can we just get this over with?”

“If you do not at least attempt to have fun then going to this dance is pointless.” He told her and she just looked at him. “Smile.” The smallest smile pulled at the corner of her lips for a fleeting second. “You can do better than that.” She pulled her lips back showing off her teeth. “Are you silently growling at me, Love? Come on! Smile.” He told her in an up beat voice attempting to fire her up. She pursed her lips and pulled them to the side as she raised her brows at him. “Smile or I’ll find that ass hole classmate that hit on you at homecoming and break his spine like I originally wanted to.” Thinking about Klaus scaring the shit out of that sleazy guy brought a small smile to her face. “Not nearly good enough, but I’ll take it.”

“Can we go now?” she asked with a small genuine laugh and a motion to the door. He walked over to it and pulled it open for her.

TVDTVDTVD

When they walked into the gym Caro Emerald’s “That Man” filled their ears while everyone danced to the upbeat song. “You would have liked the twenties.” Klaus told her as they walked into the crowd to find a place to dance. As they found a spot the song cut off and a slow song started. Klaus grabbed her hand and pulled her into him with his arm looped around her waist. “The girls were reckless, sexy…fun.” He pulled her closer and spun her around. “They literally used to dance until they dropped.”

“From exhaustion or blood loss?” Katie asked with a look up at him through her lashes.

“Answer me this.” He slid his hand down to the small of her back. “If you lived somewhere where vampires and their natural habits and impulses were not frowned upon and judged as harshly as the people in this town do. Would you not give in and indulge in all the things being a vampire could offer you? Would you not murder just for the fun of it?”

Katie thought back to her time in Nashville. Being away from Mystic Falls, where no one knew her or what she was…She had done some things that made her feel good in a bad way. She lured men into her hotel room, got them drunk, compelled them, fed on them, and while she didn’t sleep with anyone she did make out with one guy she was pretty sure was a model. When he grew inpatient and dipped his head into her line of view she looked at him. “Indulge? Most definitely, but there’s a line I don’t cross and I draw it long before murder comes into the picture.”

“You say that like you’ve had to draw that line before.” He observed.

“Because I have.” She answered as she let go of his hand and placed both of hers on his neck as they danced. He slid his hands up her back holding her closer. “And it was fun.” He smiled before he realized they had been dancing for a while and Rebekah hadn’t made an appearance. “What?” she asked, watching him look around.

“Have you seen Rebekah?” he asked.

“No.” Katie answered looking around spotting Caroline and Tyler, Elena and Stefan, Bonnie and some guy she guess was her mother’s adopted son Jamie, who according to Caroline Bonnie liked. She didn’t see Rebekah anywhere. “She’s made it her goal to hijack this dance from Caroline. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” Caroline noticed Katie and gave her a small smile then realized who Katie was dancing intimately with and gave her a questioning look. Katie realized then how close Klaus was holding her and the fact that she didn’t hate it. “I need some air.” She pushed him back and went outside intending on going to her car, but she slammed into an invisible wall a few feet outside the gym. “What the hell?” she asked looking down to see a line of salt. Her eyes followed it to see that it encircled the entire school.

“Esther’s back. We’re all trapped in here.” Stefan told her.

“Why won’t that bitch just stay dead?” She sighed.

“Rebekah, call me back immediately.” They heard Klaus say as he walked out of the gym. “I only came to this ridiculous dance because you begged me to and now you’re nowhere to be found.” He looked up to see her and Stefan. “Call me back.” he hung up and looked back and forth between Katie, Stefan and the salt line. “What is this?”

“Esther is back, again.” Katie answered. “We’re stuck in here.”

TVDTVDTVD

The dance was called off and the human students were free to walk out of the salt ring. Bonnie tried to do a locator spell on Elena, but Esther fought her on it. Because she was channeling a hot spot, Klaus knew Esther was at the old cemetery where Klaus first killed her. Since none of them could leave, Matt and Jeremy went after Esther and Elena.

Katie sat in the cafeteria waiting for Esther to die again so she could leave when Klaus found her. “I should not have dragged you here tonight. You were right about this school's history of dances and trouble.” He told her as he sat down across from her.

“It’s fine. It might not have shown, but I was actually having fun.” He gave her a smile and she changed the subject. “I just hope Matt and Jeremy can stop your mother from doing whatever it is she’s trying to do.” She told him as she put her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “We all know she wants you dead and if you die...Tyler along with whoever else is part of your sire line dies too.”

“I turned the vampire that turned the vampire who turned Katerina.” He told her as he stood up. “You are part of my sire line and I will not let you die.” he walked out.

Katie was still sitting there when Bonnie came in and told her that Esther wasn’t fighting her anymore and the barrier was down. “There’s something else you should know.” Bonnie told Katie as she walked past her ready to go home. “It’s about Alaric.” Katie stopped and turned back to her. “Ester turned him into an original vampire and he’s not going to complete the transition.” Katie felt tears pool in her eyes. “We’re all going to the cemetery to tell him goodbye, you should come with us.” Katie swiped her hand over her cheek, wiping away a tear that slipped, and nodded.

When she got to the cemetery she saw that practically everyone was there. Elena, Jeremy, Damon, Stefan, Caroline, Tyler, Matt, and some woman that Katie had never met before were all standing around outside the tomb Alaric was in. Alaric walked out of the tomb and took them all in with tears in his eyes. As his eyes landed on Katie, leaning on a statue beside Matt she couldn’t help walking over to him. He opened his arms for her and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You’ll always be my favorite teacher.” She told him through her tears.

He laughed and pushed her back a little. “And you’ll always be my favorite and best student.” He told her as he wiped her tears with the back of one of his fingers.

“Good bye, Alaric.” She told him as she turned and walked away from everyone.

She didn’t know where she was going when she got into her car; she just knew she couldn’t go home yet. After thirty minutes of aimless driving she ended up at the Mikaelson mansion. Deciding that she ended up there for a reason she got out and let herself inside. “My survival will haunt you through Eternity.” She followed Klaus’ voice to find him looking down on his mother lying in a coffin. “You will never destroy me!” feeling her there he asked. “What do you want?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just…I was driving and I ended up here.” He turned and looked at her with angry eyes. "I’ll go.”

He noticed her reddened eyes and tear streaked cheeks. “Stay.” he told her quietly. So she walked into the room and around all the open empty coffins to the one Rebekah was in. A dagger was lying on the table at the head of her coffin. “So what exactly happened to her tonight?”

“My guess is my mother fooled all of us into thinking she was dead by taking over Rebekah’s body. When she no longer had a use for it she had someone dagger her so she could jump back into her original body.” He told her then walked out of the room full of coffins.

“I think I hate witches just as much as I hate this town.” Katie sighed as she followed him to the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of alcohol and poured her a drink and one for himself.

“You forget, you wouldn’t be alive right now if your witch friend hadn’t linked you to Elijah.” He pointed at her with his hand that held his glass as she sat down in the barstool across from him and picked up the glass that he slid to her.

“Yeah, and look where that got me.” She commented with a motion around her.

“Sharing a drink with a friend?” he asked playing stupid.

“Stuck in a world of pain and misery. Of one disappointment after another…of lies and hollow words and meaningless promises. I don’t even know why I’m still in this town.” She told him then threw back the drink and pushed the glass across the bar to him.

“You’re still here because you’ve never lost sight of your true goal.” He told her as he poured her more and slid the glass back to her. “Graduation then med. school.”

“That’s the funny thing.” Katie pointed at him then dropped her hand to the bar and picked up her glass. “Elijah left me because he didn’t want me to die before I accomplished my dreams. Now I don’t see the point of it all. My dreams mean nothing if I have no one to share the victory of accomplishing them with.”

“I would argue that they mean more because you accomplished them all by yourself.” He told her then took a drink.

“How can you encourage me to be alone when you yourself can’t even stand the thought of it?” she asked then through back her drink and pushed it across the bar to him. “I mean, isn’t that why you want Elena alive? So you can use her blood to sire a back up family when your blood family fails you?” he set his drink on the bar and blinked at her. “I’m not judging, just sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. I apologize.”

“Maybe you should slow down.” He pointed out not giving her a refill.

“I don’t want to slow down. I want to get so drunk that I can no longer feel my face much less the weight that is constantly sitting on my chest.” She told him as she hopped down off the stool, walked around the bar, grabbed the bottle and looked him in the eyes as she pressed the rim to her lips and took a large drink.

“You really think that’s a good idea?” he asked as he watched her move the bottle away from her wet lips then wipe her hand over them.

“Probably not.” She told him then turned her back on him and walked off, taking another drink as she did. He followed her to his studio where she started looking at the paintings on the wall. “I don’t know anything about art. So I’m just going to ask, how many of these did you do and how many are by famous artists?”

She took a drink as he walked over to stand next to her, “They are all mine.” He answered then took the bottle from her and took a drink. “The famous ones are scattered throughout the house.”

“Huh.” Was all she said as she turned around and walked over to the couch that sat in the middle of the room and sat down. "So why do you like to art?"

He walked over and sat down beside her, propping the bottle up on the arm of the couch. "Art, painting in particular, is a metaphor for control." He answered and she gave him a look that said, 'I'm interested, please keep talking'. He tried to pass her the bottle, but she surprised him when she waved him off. "Every choice is mine. The canvas...the color… As a child I had neither a sense of the world nor my place in it, but art taught me that one's vision can be achieved with sheer force of will. The same is true of life."

She felt the same way about her poetry, every word choice was up to her, a puzzle of her own creation. But she wasn't ready to tell him about that part of herself. So she kept the topic on art. "I had to take a couple of art classes in school, but our art teacher was a major pot head so we didn’t actually learn anything other than the ninja turtles are all named after famous artists. As long as we were quiet and did something even close to art we passed.”

“Please tell me you did not glue macaroni to a piece of paper and call it art.”

She laughed. “I’m not a three year old. I colored in an adult coloring book.” She told him with her chin held high and he smiled then closed his mouth deciding to keep his comments to himself. She laughed a little at his reaction. “I passed that’s all I cared about at the time.” She held her hand out for the bottle. He gave it to her and she took a drink then handed it back to him.

She pulled out her phone and unlocked it to see what time it was only for her eyes to land on the picture of her and Elijah after the ball. She couldn’t bring herself to change it yet. Her hand went to the infinity sign that still hung around her neck.

Knowing she was thinking about Elijah, Klaus plucked the unlocked phone out of her hand, took a picture of one of his more abstract paintings and made it her background. Now she didn’t see Elijah’s face every time she used her phone. He had sat back down on the couch and was handing it back to her when Rebekah came into the room. “What happened?” she asked with a tired look at the two of them.

“Excuse me for a minute, love.” Klaus told her then walked out of the room with Rebekah.

Katie wandered over to the table that had drawings scattered across it. Eventually she came across the one Klaus had drawn of her in her ball gown. She was looking at it when Klaus came back. “Why did you draw this?” she asked, holding up the picture as she turned to him.

“Because I find inspiration in beauty and it is no secret that I think you are beautiful.” He answered as he took the paper from her and set it back down on the table behind her. “And smart, relatable, strong, brave, honest, loyal, understanding, non-judgmental-”

“Stop.” She told him as she looked down at the floor. “Just…stop trying to make me feel better about myself when I know there has to be something fundamentally wrong with me.”

“Katie,” he stepped into her and hooked his finger under her chin, pushing her head up but she didn’t look at him. “Look at me, Sweetheart.” She lifted her eyes to his. “You…are a uniquely incredible woman.”

“If I’m so incredible why do I always end up alone?” she asked.

In that moment all he wanted to do was kiss her, take her to his room and show her just how perfect he thought she was, but he also knew that after everything she had been through in the past few months, despite the fact that she had flirted back with him tonight, her heart was hard as stone and it wouldn’t change anytime soon.

He sighed as he moved his hands to her hips and leaned down, his face just a few inches from hers. “I wish I could assure you that you are not alone and you never will be, but you do not need to be force fed any more lies.” She bit her lip to keep from crying and nodded. When he tilted his head slightly she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead, he pressed his lips to her cheek. “Goodnight, Katie.” He let her go and left her alone.

Not feeling like going home she grabbed the bottle of half drank alcohol and headed to the kitchen. Rebekah came in and found her eating a pint of strawberry ice cream she’d found in the freezer amongst other flavors she couldn’t stomach. “Sorry, I raided your stash.”

“It’s fine. I have plenty.” Rebekah told her as she grabbed a pint of buttered pecan then shut the fridge and grabbed a spoon. “I’m sure we could both use it after tonight.” she popped off the lid and threw it in the trash. “I’m sorry about your teacher. He seemed like a good guy.”

“He was. I’m sorry about your mom.” Katie answered as she played with the pink, slightly melted ice cream with her spoon.

“Are you staying here tonight?” Rebekah asked with a look at the clock.

Katie shrugged. “I don’t really feel like being alone in my house right now.”

“Well, you know where your room is at and I’m sure Nic won’t care if you stay.” Rebekah told her then started walking away, taking her ice cream up to her room. “Goodnight.”

“Night.” Katie called back. She grabbed the bottle of rum and took a drink then headed upstairs, grabbed a tank top and shorts and headed to the bathroom. After showering she laid down in bed and tried to go to sleep, but the way Klaus looked at her when he told her he intended on setting her ablaze, the feel of his hands on her while they danced, when he kissed her cheek after he killed Mikael, when he'd kissed her in this house before it had been renovated and when he kissed her cheek tonight filled her mind. The memories played in her head over and over until finally she sat up and brushed her fingers through her damp hair with an aggravated sigh.

She slipped out of bed and put on a satin robe then left the room and went out back to the garden that now had bright flowers where dead rose bushes had once been, taking a walk in the night air to clear her head. It worked for the most part, but on her way back to her room she noticed the light on in the parlor and her feet took on a mind of their own. They brought her to Klaus sitting on the couch, a sketch pad in his hand.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” she asked getting his attention and he snapped the book closed before she could see what he was drawing. With suspicious eyes she leaned on the back of the couch, putting her head next to his, looking at the book in his hand over his shoulder. “What were you working on?” she asked as she reached for the book, but he tucked it under his leg where she couldn’t get it. She gasped exaggeratedly, "Was it something dirty?”

“A little.” He answered, peaking her interest given her recent thoughts about him.

“Show me?” she asked.

He looked at her over his shoulder “No.”

“Is it Caroline?” she asked.

He scoffed. “No.”

“Please show me?” she asked with her best puppy dog eyes and a quiet laugh left his lips as pulled the book out from under his leg and opened it. She wrapped her arms around him and held the book in front of him. He looked at the book as she took in the drawing of one of the photos he’d seen of her on her phone. She realized that this was finished and not what he had been working on. So she flipped to the front of the book and found a sketch of her in the dress she wore to the homecoming dance. On the next page was just a picture of her face and shoulders, every detail was spot on. As she continued to flip through the book the pictures, that started off innocent, became more and more revealing until she came to the unfinished one at the end, a sketch of her and Klaus in her bed. He was nude sitting up on his knees with her in his lap, her long legs wrapped around him. His arms wrapped around her hid her breasts from view. Klaus noticed that her breathing changed and he couldn’t tell if she was pissed off or turned on. She closed the book and tossed it onto the coffee table then leaned further over the couch and slid one hand to hold the side of his neck and the other over his cheek, turning his head toward her. His eyes met hers a split second before she pressed her lips to his.

He instantly kissed her back, catching her bottom lip between his. Wanting a better angle he turned putting his back against the arm of the couch with his legs stretched across it then wrapped his arm around Katie’s waist, easily lifted her over the low back of the couch, never breaking the kiss, as he laid her on top of him. She braced herself with her hands on the leather arm of the couch behind him, lost in his kiss and the feel of his hands untying her robe. She pulled back and watched his face as he pushed it down her shoulders revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra under her spaghetti strap tank top. He couldn’t resist slipping his hands up her shoulders then over her chest and cupping her breasts in his hands. A hum left her lips and pleasure shot through her when he pinched her nipples over the fabric making him chuckle as he let go of one of her breasts and pulled her back down to kiss him.

“Oh bloody hell!” Rebekah’s voice pulled them back down to reality and Katie tucked her face into Klaus’ neck, too embarrassed to look at Rebekah. Klaus on the other hand glared daggers at her. “How many rooms are there in this house?”

“Go away, Rebekah.” He told her aggravated.

“Gladly, get a room next time so I don’t feel like stabbing my eyes out. Yeah?” She told him then turned and walked away.

When Katie heard Rebekah’s stomping footsteps disappear upstairs she pulled her face out of Klaus’ neck and looked him in the eyes. Deciding that she wasn’t going to let Rebekah’s interruption ruin her night she stood up and held her hand out to him. He took it and let her lead him to her room. “Are you sure about this?” he asked as he watched her shut the door.

“All I’m sure about anymore is that I have been nothing but miserable since Elijah left. And tonight, when I was feeling lost and aimlessly driving around because I didn’t want to go home to a house that is filled with a thousand haunting memories, I ended up here.” She slipped her hands up his chest and held the sides of his neck. “I no longer believe in love nor do I want it. I do however,” she grabbed one of his hands in both of hers and started kissing his fingertips, “want your sexy hands to touch every inch of my body…” She brushed her lips over his fingertips then kissed his pointer finger, slipped it into her mouth and looked him in the eyes as she slipped it out, “and for you to let me feel every inch of yours.”

A heavy sigh left his parted lips as he smashed them into hers. A moan bubbled up from her throat when his tongue found hers. He grabbed her sides, picked her up and she wrapped her legs around him. As his lips attacked hers she wrapped her arms around his neck and he whooshed her back, pressing her against the wall. A growl left his lips as he attacked her neck with kisses and nibbles, pulling another moan from her lips.

When she pushed at the hem of his shirt he pulled away and looked into her eyes as he pulled it over his head and she did the same with her tank top. Desperate to have his lips back on her she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him to her catching his bottom lip between hers.

When she lightly bit his lip he moaned and whooshed them over to the bed, grabbed her hands from around his neck and pinned them down next to her head. A mixture of kisses and rough nibbles were trailed all over her neck and chest before he finally let go of one of her hands to cup her breast. She rolled them over and started undoing his belt, button and zipper.

As soon as she was done he rolled them back over losing his pants in the process then tugged her shorts and panties down her hips, tossing them haphazardly to the side. Wanting to see what he had envisioned in the drawing he sat up on his knees, running his hands down her thin sides over her curvy hips to grip her legs and wrap them back around him, admiring the sight before his eyes. Knowing what he wanted, she sat up. As she did he slid his big hands up her back until his palms were pressed to her shoulder blades.

She wrapped her arms around his torso and lightly ran her fingertips over his back making him sigh as he looked into her eyes and rested his forehead on hers. After a few seconds she noticed his gaze fall down to her chest and a smile spread over her lips. He looked back up at her with a smile of his own as he slid one of his hands around to her stomach then up, pausing when his thumb and pointer finger outlined the underside of her breast. He tilted his head, brushing her nose with his before he pressed his lips to hers.

A satisfied sigh slipped from his lips when she kissed along his jaw to his neck where she bit him without breaking the skin. His hand moved up, cupping her breast as he lightly pinched her nipple pulling a little whimper of pleasure from her as her head fell back and eyes slipped closed.

He watched her bite her bottom lip as she picked her head up and opened her eyes, looking into his as she grabbed the sides of his neck. Needing to taste her again he kissed her, his lips massaging hers before his tongue found its way into her mouth pulling a moan from her. Their hands explored each other as they made out.

Eventually when they both needed more Klaus slid his hands down her back, grabbed her butt and picked her up. Knowing what he was about to do she pulled back and looked into his eyes as he slowly lowered her down on him.

They both sighed in satisfaction then pressed their foreheads back together not breaking eye contact as he started moving her up and down. Eventually he laid her back and kissed her chest while one of her hands gripped his hair and the other gripped his back. “Klaus.”

His name rolling off her lips in a breathy moan nearly pushed him over the edge and he pulled away from her breast and looked her in the eye. Seeing the lust and pleasure in them let him know she was just as close as he was. “Let go for me, Sweetheart.” His whispered words were all it took to send both of them spiraling off into an intense state of pure pleasure.

As they came down from their high, both still breathing hard, she tucked her face into his neck and kissed it. After a minute he rolled onto his side, sat up, grabbed the sheet from the foot of the bed and pulled it up over them. When he looped his arm around her and pulled her into his chest she laid her head on his bicep and pressed her palms to his chest, content to cuddle in silence. But after ten minutes of he began to worry. “If you do not say something soon I’m going to assume you regret what just happened.”

She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “I definitely don't regret what just happened.” she told him quietly with content smile and a shake of her head. “I’m just…still enjoying it.” He gave her a curious look. “At any given moment of any day my mind is racing ninety to nothing and here recently my mind has been a very dark, self loathing place.” He brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek, knowing what she was talking about all too well. “But in moments like this…my mind is tranquil. It may be weird, but I enjoy the calm of after just as much as the storm of during.”

“You…are a very interesting woman.” He told her as his eyes traveled her face. He called her interesting, but her mind suddenly went into overdrive and replaced the word with a thousand different ones all muttered in her grandfather’s hateful voice. She couldn’t tell the voice that he was wrong this time. Damon, Tyler, Elijah now Klaus all within a year's time? She was throwing herself around like a common whore. She frowned and dropped her eyes to his chest.

To silence the voice and get her head elsewhere she started kissing his chest, pulling a sigh from him when she kissed his nipple then a chuckle from him when she playfully bit it. She decided then that she liked the sound of his deep relaxed laugh and pulled away to look into his eyes. He hooked his fingers under her chin and ran his thumb over the corner of her mouth then looked at her eyes.

She grabbed his hand and pressed their palms together taking in the size difference. Thinking about his slightly obsessive drawings she propped her head up with her hand and elbow and asked, “So, how long have you been working on that sketch book?”

“Pretty much since you walked into that gym on senior prank night with a fire in your eyes and an I-don’t-give-a-damn attitude.” He answered. “Then seeing those pictures on your phone didn’t help nor did the noises that floated down the hall to my room when you were with Elijah. I’ve got to admit, I’m a little jealous I didn’t get those same wall shaking moans from you.”

“I doubt you ever will.” She answered, remembering blood sharing with Elijah.

“I’m not sure if I should take offense or accept the challenge.” He told her with a slight glare.

A cheeky grin brightened her face, her fingertips slipping up his arm and over his collarbone as she looked him in the eyes and whispered, "I think we would both enjoy it more if you accept the challenge." Her pointer finger slipped under his chin as she caught his lips with hers. His hand gripped the curve of her waist as the kiss deepened then slowed. When it broke he gripped her hip, slid his hand down to her thigh and pulled it over his hips, letting her feel and see by the look on his face what would happen if she kept teasing him. She laughed. "Seriously though, that wasn't meant to be a blow to your ego. My link to Elijah tends to enhance certain things.”

“Then maybe I should find a witch and have them link us.” he told her with a devious smile.

“Please, for the love of god, don’t.” she told him with an eye roll as she pushed his shoulder for him to lay on his back so that she was sitting on his lower stomach. “Because of that stupid link there have been times when I didn’t know what was organic and what was magic and I told myself it was all real because I desperately wanted it to be. But I no longer want head over heels, whirlwind, short lived, magically enhanced love that consumes me.”

“Then what do you want?” he asked, looking her up and down, admiring her naked body.

“This.” She fell forward bracing herself on her hands on each side of his head. “You. Real.” she kissed his cheek, “Raw.” the side of his neck, “No promises.” his collarbone, “No lies.” the hollow of his neck, “No expectations.” the center of his chest, “Just two people,” she bit his pec next to his nipple, "who fancy each other," then pecked him on the lips and looked into his blue eyes, "having fun." As she sat up, she slipped her hands down his chest settling them on his sides then looked at his face. “If that’s okay with you and you can handle the three no's of course.”

“That is more than okay with me, Sweetheart.” She gave him a look that told him to say out loud that he agreed to her terms. "You have been burned by promises and lies in the past and I do not wish to cram you into a mold of who I think you should be." He told her with a pointed look. "So no promises, no lies, no expectations. Only fun." He told her as he hooked his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her down to him, kissing her deeply and passionately. When the kiss broke he rolled over onto his side and propped his head up on his hand, looking at her. “I find you…" He started ghosting his fingers up her arm in thought.

"Weird?" She asked because that's what everyone always said about her.

"Intriguing." He finished as his fingertips moved lightly across her chest. "You were willing to die in the place of Elena's aunt even though you had everything to live for…you weren’t scared to die.” He told her with a confused shake of his head “You've also never been scared of me.” He grabbed her thigh and pulled her leg back up over his hips.

She slid her hand over his shoulder. “You’ve completely and utterly terrified me.” she absentmindedly drew invisible swirls over his arm with her fingertips.

“I stabbed you in the back and broke your neck that night. How can you even stand to be in the same room with me?” he asked. He wasn't complaining by any means, but he couldn't help being curious.

“I have an uncanny and very stupid, ability to over look the bad in people and only focus on the good.” She answered with a shrug. “I’ve learned over the past year or so that it’s a little too easy for me to turn a blind eye to the horrible things people do.” She looked at her fingertips slipping lightly over his arm. “And if I’ve learned anything since senior prank night, it’s that I am drawn to you.”

“And what good do you see in me that draws you in.” He asked as he slipped his hand over her hip, to her fleshy rear.

She looked up at him with a frown. “I don’t know what draws me to you…I don’t think it’s necessarily anything good or bad…” She paused, thinking about what she wanted to say. “But I know why I can’t hate you like my ex friends do.” He gave her a look that asked her to keep talking. “When I look at you…I see an innocent version of you. He has been rejected, abused, hurt and thrown away far too many times and it’s caused him to be wrapped in a thick cocoon of anger, distrust, paranoia and hatred.” She told him and he blinked rapidly as if to hold back tears. “I see you…as mirror image of myself, but your side of the reflection has far more cracks, chips and complexities that I know I can not even begin to understand.” She looked down at her hands on his chest for a moment, feeling like she wasn't making any sense, then back into his blue eyes. “So if I hate you…it feels like I hate myself and who I could very easily become.” He just stared at her with wide eyes and when several long seconds passed she was sure she had gone too far…said too much and pissed him off. But he surprised her and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that quickly deepened and turned passionate before he gripped her leg that was still over his hip and turned onto his back, taking her with him and letting her take the reins this time...

A/N: This is my favorite chapter to date and there are 50+ chapters to this story so far...Please tell me what you think. I love feedback. And I appreciate those who've recently expressed how much they like this story. :-)

#damon salvatore #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #damon x oc #elijah x oc #klaus x oc #damon salvatore x oc #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson x oc #damon x oc fanfiction #elijah x oc fanfiction #klaus x oc fanfiction #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries x oc #tvd #tvd fanfiction #the originals #the originals fanfiction

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Strings”

Happy Saturday, RWBY friends! I am, quite obviously, going to dive into the recap in just a moment, but first I wanted to take a short detour to discuss the elephant in the tumblr room. Namely, Supernatural.

For those of you out of the loop, the tl;dr is that a fifteen year, beloved show ended with a truly horrendous finale. Specifically, the finale rejected everything that the show had been building towards: the logical conclusion to character arcs, the theme that “family don’t end in blood,” the potential for a queer romantic relationship… I could go on. The point I want to make is that the fandom had every reason to believe we’d be getting these things. This isn’t a case of fans upset that the finale didn’t go the way they wanted as an individual viewer, but rather that the finale didn’t go the way the show clearly and explicitly said it would. It’s not an exaggeration to say that in many respects, viewers were straight up lied to.

(I recommend reading the reviews.)

What does this all have to do with RWBY? Well, I can’t help but think that history is repeating itself. Certainly there are some notable similarities between the two series. Both have long, meandering plotlines with no clear end in sight (though I hope RWBY doesn’t reach the 15 Volume mark…). Both began with a small, core cast, but quickly expanded—generating the expectation that these now equally important characters will be given their due. Both have moved from the small conflict of fighting everyday monsters to a god-based mythology. Both have a popular queer relationship dangled in front of the viewers, featuring scenes where they’re “obviously” in love… but will it ever be confirmed? Both have a fanbase that says loudly and confidently that the writers know what they’re doing. Just wait! It’s all been planned! We’ll be rewarded for our patience and soon all the naysayers will be proven wrong.

Thing is, the Supernatural fandom wasn’t rewarded. Right up until a week ago those fans—myself included—had faith that the writers knew what they were doing because they can’t really be that out of touch with their own story...right? It’s not possible. Yet they were, it was, and now that I’ve gotten solid proof of precisely how far a show can go to reject its own logic, themes, and premise, that just makes me more wary of RWBY’s mistakes. Before I had a solid faith that things couldn’t possibly get that bad, that no matter how much RWBY might be messing up in the short term, it will undoubtedly pull it together overall, because what show wouldn’t? Especially a show with such promise and, at times, wonderful storytelling. Well, Supernatural didn’t manage it and frankly I’m not sure what to do with that information.

Seriously. I don’t have any grand conclusion here. It’s not my intention to suggest that anyone should stop watching RWBY, or to claim that it will absolutely fail because Supernatural did. Obviously, we don’t know what will happen until we get to see it in the show. I only want to acknowledge these parallels and the similar journey I see both fanbases on. I can’t help but wonder if, a couple years from now, RWBY fans will be making incredibly optimistic posts about how it’s all coming together, just have some faith, everyone who says that the group won’t get a satisfying ending, or Blake and Yang won’t be confirmed are just mean trolls… only to wake up that Saturday morning and get another metaphorical slap in the face.

It’s something to think about.

But here I’ve spent a page talking about the wrong show. Let’s get into the episode!

We open on a black screen with lots of ambiguous noises. At first I thought this was Oscar struggling in the Hound’s grip or something, but then I remembered that RWBY likes to insert an episode between cliffhangers. I watched Ironwood (presumably) shoot a guy and he only came back this week (though that question still isn’t answered. At this point I kind of wonder if it will be). Oscar was kidnapped last week, which means we won’t get to see him until next week. Or… two weeks from now? RT skips the week of Thanksgiving, don’t they? Sounds familiar doesn’t it? Something horrible happens to Oscar and we need to wait two weeks to find out how it’s resolved.

Watch him escape the Hound off screen and return to the group with a new outfit 😂

So it’s not Oscar we hear, but Ruby, the last one coming out of the tube. Weiss is in the process of pulling Nora’s ear for that stunt… with a frankly strange looking hand. What’s up with RWBY animating weird hands lately? I’m pretty sure that’s not how anatomy works.

Anyway, Nora counters that this was a “Once in a lifetime experience,” but they were all going to go through the tubes regardless. Weiss isn’t pissed that you sent her through, she’s pissed that you did it unexpectedly when she was alone, heading into enemy territory. But of course, there’s no one in the room to hinder them, so the mistake is meaningless.

We’re setting the tone again though. For the first half of this episode everything is sunshine and giddy adventure, which doesn’t fit the situation at all. It also creates emotional whiplash when I’m suddenly supposed to be super worried about things later on. This sort of about-face works once in a blue moon, as an emotional punch, like we see in Mulan:

But RWBY does it every other episode, which makes the overall tone of the series confusing instead. Half the time RWBY feels like two different stories—the cartoony tale of girls going on fun adventures, and the traumatic tale of a fantasy war—that have been badly spliced together.

“Alight, Robo-Girl, which way?” May asks and Penny demonstrates why she’s the best for sneaking into a facility. She’s able to map out the whole place, including seeing where everyone is so they can avoid detection. Kudos to RT for going this route. I was worried that they would have Ruby and the others straight up attacking Atlas grunts, knocking them out/potentially even killing them because who cares, right? They’re the bad guys! So I’m glad they’re working to get in and out undetected. Granted, we see in some places that they’re clearly willing to fight the soldiers if it comes to that—they’re reaching for their weapons when Penny opens the final door, expecting the room to be full of people. They were going to attack—but at least they’re trying to lessen that conflict as much as possible. That’s the sort of choice I expect to see from heroes and I’m glad we got it here.

After scouting the area Penny corrects May: “And my name is Penny,” to which Ruby gives a satisfied “Heh.” I’ve got no problem with Penny rejecting nicknames, even potentially well-meaning ones, because she’s always struggled with her status as a real girl and her name is her own. She gets to decide what others call her. I do, however, have a problem with making the presumed trans character the one who is corrected. Granted yes, we haven’t gotten confirmation in the show that May is trans, but RT doesn’t get to cash in on that rep without likewise suffering the consequences for how the character is treated. You’re telling me that a trans woman is going to roll her eyes when someone asks her to use a specific name? Please give May flaws, yes, she’s a person, but out of all the millions of flaws across the human spectrum, this is the one we’re shown?

Not to mention Ruby’s continued attitude. It’s like, ‘Yeah, May. Stop being a horrible person who draws attention to the fact that Penny is a robot. I never did that.’ Except when Ruby first met her she didn’t know Penny was a robot. Just like she didn’t know Blake was a faunus—something we’re reminded of this episode. We might assume Ruby wouldn’t have ever made any missteps at the beginning of these relationships, but the fact remains that she got to know both girls before their minority status was ever revealed. Ruby loved them before she ever had to grapple with their differences.

Put in her place, May then demonstrates that she can make lots of people invisible, not just herself. That’s handy. She creates an invisibility bubble that reminds me of Harry’s invisibility cloak. In the sense that others might not be able to see you, but they can still hear and touch you, which makes sneaking around still pretty challenging.

No sooner have I thought that then two guards get into the elevator with them. The group keeps quiet as the duo discusses how no one can get close to Salem’s storm without “getting shocked right out of the air.” Interesting. And frankly one hell of a roadblock if the Hound escapes into the clouds. Oscar may be gone for a while if he doesn’t escape on his own... The woman also comments about how creepy it is that all the grimm are just hanging out, waiting. It’s “worse than if they’d attacked.”

No it’s not! RT, stop trying to implement the idea that Salem withholding her forces is some epically cool choice. She should have decimated everyone by now and the fact that she hasn’t just shows how transparent the problem is: you’ve created a villain that’s too powerful and now you don’t know what to do with her.

As the group sneaks out of the elevator Nora grins and presses all the buttons, which is, as expected, a dumb move. They’re supposed to be sneaking into this base. If they’re caught they’re going to be thrown in jail at best, killed at worst, but Nora wants to risk that for a practical joke? Again and again we see this insistence on incorporating comedy where it’s not only unnecessary, but actively interferes with other aspects of the scene.

Reaching a terminal, Penny inserts her finger and gains access via Pietro’s credentials. She’s really demonstrating this episode why she’s… pretty terrifying? I mean, Penny is an incredibly powerful fighter with a computer’s view of the world, access to everything in the most powerful Kingdom alongside its information, and she now has Maiden powers to boot. Which, I should add, it took her one fight to master (because remember, the heroes are now always as strong as they need to be to win…). Now that Watts is planning to hack her, I expect her to be an incredibly formidable enemy, just given the amount she could potentially do. I think Penny herself is too kind to exploit all that potential and as we’ll see via Pietro briefly taking control, she doesn’t always have the knowledge to use the tools at her disposal. But in the hands of someone like Watts? He’ll turn Penny into the ultimate weapon.

Access granted, they learn that they have to go “Right through central command!” Of course, Penny makes it sound like a fun game and the spy-movie music/cartoon lecture doesn’t help. Again, tone. It’s adorable! It just doesn’t fit sneaking into a military base with your lives on the line while Salem waits outside. That was a RWBY Chibi moment.

Penny explains—twice—that Ruby can use her semblance to fly them all through central command and it’s treated like a revelation. At first, I was pretty confused because Ruby has been dong this for ages? She carried Weiss in “Argus Limited” and Nora during the Geist fight. But upon close inspection, what Penny seems to have “figured out” is that Ruby can carry multiple people at once because the “mass doesn’t matter.” Okay. Not a contradiction then, though I think RT could have made it a little more clear that Ruby was shocked at the idea of carrying multiple people, not carrying someone at all.

What I do take issue with though is Ruby mastering this skill instantaneously. I mean, why is Ruby being forced to try this on the fly (pun not intended)—Penny has known the layout of the building since they made this plan. She knew they had to get past central control and that it would be packed with people. She’s obviously thought about Ruby’s semblance a great deal—and why is she succeeding? Give me a Volume 7 where Ruby actually trains in this technique, set up via Harriet’s comment early on about her semblance, and then she’s victorious here when it finally matters. Or give me Ruby assuming she can pull off this incredibly difficult skill only to fall out of her semblance halfway through, a roomful of Atlas personnel staring at them. Then what?

Not this.

This is a character who does everything perfectly on the first try without ever having to fail. Ruby is boring like this.

Crisis averted, we transfer to Ironwood who is… working with Watts.

What else is there to say? I’ve already laid out all the reasons why this is stupid and makes no sense. Others keep coming onto my posts to explain to me how Ironwood’s awful deeds up until now fully show his decent into villainy, conveniently ignoring the numerous limitations he was under and his choice to do what he thought was best for the world using inaccurate information. Ironwood was always a divisive character and many are happy to ignore the years’ worth of deconstruction done—a man who looks like the Evil Military General but actually isn’t—because they never liked him to begin with. Not liking him is fine, no one has to like any character, but I’m honestly shocked by the number of viewers who refuse to acknowledge how bad the writing is, even if it means defending a character they hate a teensy tiny bit (#SupernaturalVibes). As a friend put it, Ironwood now feels like a caricature of his former self, a Pure Evil Ironwood who appeared out of nowhere and is now here to stay. He shoots kids. He shoots unarmed civilians. He teams up with Salem’s men and tries to hack Penny. These are undeniably horrible acts, they’ve just been given to a character who never would have done them until RT randomly flipped the Evil switch.

The “RWBY” tag, alongside all the fluff moments of this episode, is now filled with posts encouraging Marrow to turn, yelling at the Ace Ops for being “bootlickers,” and capslock screaming at anyone who dared to speak up for Ironwood. It still sucks to have bad writing twisted into an attack on the fans and it’s going to continue to suck until at least the rest of Volume 8. I’d like to again remind everyone that Qrow teamed up with Tyrian a few episodes, yet because he’s again in Ruby’s graces, that was twisted into a ‘not that bad’ situation. The issue isn’t really that Ironwood is teaming up with one of Salem’s subordinates, but that he’s doing it to go against RWBYJNOR… the second a character teams up with Salem to get what Ruby wants (to not have her team in jail) then that’s totally fine… but that’s a wrinkle a lot of people are happy to ignore.

So yeah, Ironwood is an idiot now too. Like Qrow also was last Volume. He really thinks Watts isn’t going to betray him somehow? Although, I do wonder if the chance to ruin Pietro’s creation outweighs his loyalty to Salem, but the point is that Ironwood can’t be sure of that either. At least he’s smart enough to keep Watts under continuous guard. He puts his hand on Watts’ shoulders and goes, “I’d hate for us to have to try motivating you. Again.”

So he tortures people too now? Like I said, caricature. This was Ironwood and we were given no clear idea of where he disappeared to.

RIP a great character.

Watts notices though that Pietro has apparently accessed a secure area and alerts Ironwood to it. I laugh that the information is just ¡EMERGENCY! In large, red letters. Ironwood immediately makes an announcement for everyone to be on guard. It’s a level 3 lockdown — that won’t impede the group leaving via airship! — and they’re to use “lethal force” if necessary. Weiss is disgusted.

As much as I disagree with making Ironwood into a shoot first, ask questions later kind of guy — he’s definitely wrong to be doing this — I also find myself rolling my eyes at reactions like that. Yes, Weiss. You attacked four operatives until they were knocked unconscious. Prevented an entire city from escaping Salem’s wrath, endangering them all. Now you’re breaking into the most classified room in the Kingdom to steal an equally qualified project and use it for your own means. There’s no reason why Ironwood would level his might against you. Is death still an extreme response? Yes. Should Weiss be acting like Ironwood is crazy for responding to them in an extreme manner? No. Her remark makes it sound like Ironwood is attacking her poor, innocent, defenseless team… not the team that’s been lying to him, betraying him, attacking him, and stealing from him. Not the team carrying deadly weapons into a facility to take what they want at any cost.

With their presence known, May wants to go grab an airship. That’s the series now.

Meanwhile, Penny insists that they can still complete their mission and we see Nora come up with some sort of plan.

Except, what plan was this?? What did she say to the group? ‘Hey, let’s wait around until some guy conveniently walks by with a full cup of coffee. Then we can trip him and the mug will fly alllll the way across this gap to land on a terminal, startling at least two workers. Except this guy will be hated by the whole room because he’s always messing things up—his coffee mug has been changed from #1 Dad to #1 Dud—so that this little mishap will create a ruckus that gets everyone involved, giving us the opportunity to slip by them all.’

Seriously, what? This kind of “plan” only works with someone like Clover, where we know he has a good luck semblance and thus all these unlikely pieces fall into place. I could absolutely buy Clover smiling smugly, working under the knowledge that he just has to wait around a few minutes and something will come along that works entirely in his favor. But Nora? How did she know any of this would happen? Obviously she couldn’t have, so what exactly was their intention if this coffee carrying, hated guy didn’t show up? RWBY, your contrived plots are showing.

I do, however, love the grimm Jaws poster. Jaws is an absolute favorite of mine, so seeing a reference to it in RWBY? A funny one at that? It almost makes up for how bad this episode is lol.

Because frankly I’m bored. The group sneaks around, criticizes May and Ironwood, briefly confuses me about Ruby’s semblance knowledge, and gets through tons of Atlas personnel in the stupidest way possible. I have to watch this guy running out of the room with coffee on his pants screaming, “WHHHYYY???” and he doesn’t notice the five girls standing right next to him. It’s silly. It’s boring. Luckily for RWBY, things are about to pick up in the second half.

After Ruby gets them upstairs and the final room is also conveniently devoid of people, Pietro takes control of Penny—including yellow possession eyes like Oscar has with Ozpin—and he...gets Amity started. That’s it. After a whole volume of ‘It’s not finished yet’ and ‘We barely have the resources’ and ‘Robyn stole what we were using to do idek what with’ he presses buttons for a while and they’re in. How good for them!

I do love that Penny calls Pietro “Dad” though. I’m here for the android-father relationship.

While Pietro works we turn to Blake, Weiss, and Nora. Blake tries to convince the audience that Ruby and Yang had an actual fight with, “I’ve never seen Yang and Ruby fight like this.” Yeah, because no one in this group has ever said the sliiiiightest thing against Ruby, so you all read the tinniest disagreement as a “fight” to be worried about. I mean, doesn’t RT have friends to draw inspiration from? They’ve never disagreed about Huge and Complex Questions before? Never gotten pissed and then shrugged it off the next time you want to text? RWBY’s idea of a diverse friend group feels like many other writers’ idea of a sibling relationship: anyone with an actual sibling goes, “What is this?” Speaking of, Weiss explains that sisters often have “very different ideas about what’s right” as if, again, people don’t have different ideas? Just in general? Why is this suddenly a sister thing? She’s clearly thinking about Winter, but doesn’t actually bring it up, so all we’re left with is the same situation we had last Volume. Weiss thinks she’s right, Winter is wrong, and they’re just going down their separate roads because there’s definitely no reason to re-examine any choices here. It’s all static.

Until Winter betrays Ironwood, of course.

Nora tries to reassure Blake that the group will be fine (ha) even though they’ve split, the irony being that we, the audience, know they just got wrecked by the Hound. Jaune is a great leader though, Oscar has grown so much, Yang could defend them all in a fight, and Ren… well, she can’t think of anything to say about Ren. I hate the Nora is acting like Ren has drawn away from her for no reason, after she chose to kiss him—without consent—rather than listening to what was bothering him, then proceeded to pretend that this mystery problem never existed. What does she expect? I do, however, like the general acknowledgement that she doesn’t know who she is without Ren. Who is Nora? Someone who is “strong and hit[s] stuff?”

See, this feels like RT writing self-consciously because Nora doesn’t have much of a personality. Oh, on a surface level she’s bursting with it, but past the bubbly exterior? That single layer? We can add maybe one thing to this “Likes Ren, is strong, hits stuff” list: she’s funny. That’s it. Anything else we might add like “she’s loyal” or “she’s kind” is just a generic characteristic of this entire team. They’re all meant to be crazy talented good guys and even the “is strong” aspect is suspect when others frequently pull off attacks as showy as Nora’s hammer hits. So who is she? What are Nora’s dreams? What are her hobbies? Her fears? Her history? We’ve seen a single flashback of her on the streets and one scene back at Beacon where she listens to music and reads a magazine. Seven years worth of material and that’s it. There’s a reason why the go-to, non-combat action for Nora in fics is “makes pancakes.” We know so little about her still.

So I was excited for a brief, shining moment. Yes! Explore who Nora is outside of being strong and hitting stuff! … and then her big action this episode is, as she says, being strong and hitting something. Don’t get me wrong, outside of that setup it’s pretty epic. I like Nora going to those lengths to save Penny and I absolutely love the repercussions of the choice: a broken aura, passing out, and badass lightning scars all over her arms and neck (especially when women often aren’t allowed to accumulate scars in visual media). That’s pretty damn awesome. It’s just that it comes on the heels of the story insisting that Nora is more than this, that we’ll learn something new about her… and we haven’t. This is indeed cool, but we already knew that Nora was willing to crazy lengths by hitting things really hard. That’s already her established norm.

At least this moment has some really nice characterization alongside the stupidity. The conversation between Ruby and Penny is just plain stupid. Penny wants to stay to help with the evacuations, but Pietro says she should come with him in Amity. Why? As Ruby says, because then she’ll be up in the sky and Salem won’t be able to access the relic.

That’s what Ironwood wanted to do! We could have had this conflict episodes ago with you all working with him! I really can’t with this cast. Also, the rest of this is still confusing. I thought pretty much everyone was in the slums by now, so what evacuation are they talking about? Do they plan to evacuate everyone in Mantle out of the kingdom somehow… like Ironwood wanted to do with Atlas? And why are they acting like Amity is evacuating some people too? I thought they were just using it as a communication device? To add insult to injury, Ruby then contradicts herself a minute later when she tells Harriet that Ironwood can’t have the relic because “Salem will find her way to the relic no matter where you go.” Ruby, if Salem can access the relic high in the sky she can also access Penny in the sky. If you believe that literally nowhere is safe then why are you sending Penny away under the claim that she—and via her the Relic—will be safer? If you want Penny in Amity to lessen the chance of Salem getting the Relic, why can’t Penny be in Atlas while simultaneously (hopefully) getting a whole slew of people to safety?

I’m continually confused by this “plan” of theirs. Their claims just flip-flop according to what (supposedly) contrasts them with Ironwood. Even though that’s not actually the case.

Penny is me, sad while watching this train wreck of a scene.

So yeah, the Ace Ops are here. I’ve wondered since the trailer why Weiss looked smug while everyone else was startled. Turns out it’s because of her line, “So, your first time losing to us wasn’t enough?” I can’t express how much I dislike all the girls’ personalities now. I want to shake some compassion and humility into them. Plus, they never should have won that fight in the first place. Marrow yells, “We were holding back!” but coming from the team’s weakest member it reads as defensive. Like we’re supposed to go, ‘Lol yeah right, Marrow. Just admit you got your ass kicked,’ even tough the Ace Ops should have wiped the floor with them, holding back or not. That’s my biggest takeaway from this fight: it’s the reverse of what we should have gotten. The Ace Ops should have beaten Team RWBY with ease and struggled greatly against an android Maiden, not falling before a bunch of teens and succeeding against Penny if not for Nora’s timely breakthrough. Your half-trained cast of growing heroes should not come across as more powerful than an intelligently designed weapon now wielding magic.

Before the fight starts we get a whole lot of lines that are, frankly, frustrating. Vine tells Penny, “I thought you were supposed to protect the people, not hurt them” which is true enough. Penny is taking action that is putting a lot of people in danger, regardless of the fact that Ruby is at the helm. Problem is, the Ace Ops then blame her for Winter’s injuries and “stealing” the power? That’s not the issue here. The issue is Penny’s blind loyalty to Ruby, but by having the Ace Ops back a stance that is clearly inaccurate—Penny didn’t cause Winter’s injuries, Cinder did; Penny didn’t steal the powers, she was encouraged to take them—it makes them come across as Very Evil people who will twist things to make poor Penny look like the villain. Even if this is a case of Ace Ops having bad intel (which seems unlikely. Wouldn’t Winter have told them what happened?) RT has avoided letting the Ace Ops take a justified stance here because that would make them look too sympathetic… even though they do have multiple justified stances to take. Like, ‘Hey, stop keeping half a kingdom here where Salem can easily kill them all’ or, ‘Hey, why did you spend months betraying Ironwood and then turn on us instead of trying to find a compromise?’ Even, ‘Why did your uncle help kill our leader?’ There’s plenty that the Ace Ops should be rightfully pissed about, so choosing Penny and Winter out of everything feels like RT is firmly backing them into Ironwood’s corner: you’re just bad now and bad people blame innocent girls, rather than acknowledging the actual wrongs done against them.

So we have Ruby contradicting herself and the Ace Ops backing warped ideas that make them look worse than they actually are. Adding to the stupidity is the fact that Elm mentions that Winter is in “critical condition” and Weiss… doesn’t care. Harriet then tells Ruby that she’s “throwing [her] in jail right next to your uncle, runt” and... Ruby doesn’t care. Qrow is missing and Ruby just found out he’s been captured by Ironwood, yet there’s no reaction whatsoever. This show continues to go hard on the ‘screw adults’ mentality, huh? Ozpin needs to keep quiet and is horrible for coming back. Ironwood is now a cartoon villain. Winter made the wrong choice so no one cares about her anymore, not even her sister. The Ace Ops remain enemies despite trying to talk things out. Qrow? Barely know him. Who’s he? This is a Ruby loves Penny episode. There isn’t enough emotional nuance for her to care about him too.

The sad thing is I adore Nuts&Dolts. In a different context these moments would be a goldmine for me.

If anything, this episode feels worse than the majority of last week’s because there are good things here that have been thrown into a bad setup. I can’t get excited for the group’s battles when I see who they’re attacking. It’s hard to squee over Ruby hugging Penny when she doesn’t react to Qrow. Watching Nora go all Thor feels like it only has half its potential when it’s coming out of a very messing, ‘I’m more than just being strong and hitting things… which is why I’ll continue being strong and hitting things.’ RWBY has excellent moments set into a terrible story.

The fight, at least, is exciting. The Ace Ops goad Penny into stepping away so they can trap the rest of Ruby’s team—smart—and she’s forced to hold her own while Weiss tries to break through with her knight, then Nora overloads the system. To be frank, I’m not great at analyzing combat. Not unless I’m looking for something specific like whether a win is justified. I’ve already mentioned above the broad issue of the Ace Ops very nearly beating the most powerful fighter next to Salem herself, yet failing so spectacularly against Team RWBY. Outside of that context though? I really enjoyed this. Lots of tight action, creative attacks, teamwork, some emotional pauses throughout… it feels like a pretty solid battle. Put it on Youtube as a clip, outside of the rest of the story’s messiness, and you’ve got yourself a fantastic watch.

We can’t stay in the combat forever though. During all this Weiss calls the Ace Ops “cowards” for making it four vs. one. You know, RWBY should really just do away with dialogue and make the show purely action because the cast frequently sounds so stupid when they speak. Like her comment about Ironwood’s lockdown… really Weiss? ‘Yes, we might be wanted criminals who betrayed this group in the worst possible way, but how dare they not do the honorable thing and have three of their teammates sit out while trying to capture us? Even though the girl they’re trying to capture has magic. I mean, the nerve of them!’

Weiss, at this point I’m not sure how to explain to you that the people you’ve made into your enemies do not owe you a fair fight.

Another detail: we get to see Ruby fall off the edge of the walkway and this time she remembers she can fly! A definite improvement from Volume 6.

Finally: by the time Penny’s eyes go full Maiden in Elm’s grip, I think we’ve seen everything from our trailer. Episode 4 will truly be a mystery.

Ironwood has, of course, been watching the fight this whole time. When it looks like the Ace Ops will lose against the team he means to send in reinforcements, but Watts says he has “a message for your operatives.” Instead of capturing Penny they steal one of her swords instead, ending with a shot on Marrow looking conflicted.

Because remember, there’s no actual moral grayness in this story. The protagonists are right and everyone else is wrong. It’s (supposedly) black and white. Which means that if the Ace Ops have any hope of surviving this Volume and being seen as anything other than evil bootlickers, they have to join with Ruby. Marrow seems primed to do that.

Am I surprised? No. Disappointed? Always lol.

May has the airship ready to go and they fly off… despite the shields. And the lockdown. Consistency? Who’s she? Nora is said to be “in bad shape�� and after another hug Penny leaves to hide in Amity, even though Ruby thinks that hiding is a useless, cowardly choice. Just not when she and her allies choose to do it.

We end the episode with Watts receiving Penny’s sword and making the statement, “If you can’t beat them… then make them join you.” I have to say, his cheesy villainy is something I continue to enjoy, even if it’s heavy handed at times. Watts is just fun. I do have to say though: if Penny is hacked, what does that say about her agency? We double-downed on the ‘real girl’ narrative by giving her the Maiden powers, but she’s simultaneously synthetic enough that a single piece of her can remove all autonomy? It once again feels like RT isn’t sure what point they’re trying to make, they’re just chucking a lot of themes at the wall and seeing what sticks. Still, we’ll have to let it all play out before making any judgements.

And that’s it for this week. It seems like this is a slightly shorter recap than normal, though that may be because I struggle with discussing pure action sequences, which made up a decent chunk of this episode. I’ll no doubt return to the Ace Ops vs. Penny fight when I’m not on a self-imposed, one day deadline for posting. The only thing left is to update the Bingo Card, but I don’t think we made any headway this week. So... good job, RWBY?

I’m still going to hold off on the civilian’s square until Salem’s army actually attacks, as well as the two day timeline square.

No Winter this episode

Watts is teaming up with Ironwood which is… so much worse than him teaming up with Jacques again. Does a square get an X if the canon is even worse than what you assumed it would be??

Maria was mentioned this episode. Jury’s out on whether she’ll actually do anything.

Atlas is still standing, we knew Penny was heading towards a hack so it’s not much of a cliffhanger, no Qrow, no Ozpin, no Neo or Cinder.

It certainly looks like we can check off “The team gets Amity up and running,” but let’s just see if there are any problems next episode. If the problem is only ‘We would have launched it if not for Salem’s attack’ or something, I’m checking it off. The point is it would have worked.

I’m also leaning towards “More obvious Blake/Yang implications without confirming a relationship” given Blake’s heart-to-heart with Nora… but let’s see if the Volume does anything more egregious.

All in all (and perhaps despite what I’ve written above), I don’t think it’s fair to totally drag this episode. As said, this feels like a strong episode in a bad story, something that I would have LOVED if a) Salem weren’t here and b) the ‘ethical dilemma’ wasn’t boiled down to a ‘Team Ruby is good’ and ‘Ironwood and everyone associated with him is evil’ situation. It’s an episode whose tone and character action belong in a different version of RWBY. If you gave us this fun episode in an earlier Volume against a Pure Evil antagonist? It would have been great.

Ah well. It is what it is. Expect more emotional whiplash when we come back and everyone learns that Oscar has been kidnapped by Salem’s talking pooch 🙃

See you then! 💜

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #rwby strings #mymetas #rwby recaps #apologies if this Recap is messier than normal #I have a zoom meeting in five minutes lol #gotta go fast!

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logical-little-lies · 3 years

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Coloring and Close Bonds- Agere!AU (part 42)

A/N: Hi! This is a shorter no-little-side chapter to help advance the plot. It is like, necessary to the overarching plot so...but it is cute! Platonic Virgil and Emile Rights. Anyways, the next chapter will be a filler probably focusing around little!Emile and cg!Remy, so y'all can see how I write them.

Of course, Emile suggested that they should hang out outside of work so that they could possibly be friends again. And the core sides didn't want to say no, so here they were, watching Disney.

They had to choose the thing that could trigger any of their headspace. It's like they knew and were purposely making it worse for them. It was a million times harder to repress your headspace when you were used to regressing whenever.

Roman silently cuddled into Virgil's side, Virgil wrapping his arm around him. "Not to be rude or anything, but are you two dating?" Remy asked. Virgil nodded, as if this fact was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Have been for a while," Roman scoffed.

"Sorry, we haven't been around to know..." Emile let Remy wrap his arm around him.

"Oh my god, you two are dating!" Patton realized.

"Obviously," Remy turned his head, kissing Emile's cheek softly. "And I'm assuming you and the nerd are too?"

"That nerd is my boyfriend," Patton defended.

This whole interaction heavily shifted the vibe from tense to romantic. They avoided regressing by constantly talking to their partner and being cute. It was just a coincidence that most of the sides paired off when the Neutral Sides weren't speaking with them.

They'd soon find out that there was one other similarity between the three of their relationships, and it wasn't a romantic one.

Virgil was scrolling on his phone when he heard a knock at his door. He knew that Remy and Emile were there, but he assumed they were still having their meetings. But he was proven wrong when he swung open the door to see Emile.

"Hey?" he sounded confused, subtly attempting to block his view into the bedroom due to all the baby stuff practically lying around.

"Hey! Um, I was only needed for part of the meeting...my job is a shared one, after all. Mostly there to fix conflict but there wasn't any. I was wondering if I could hang out with you until it was over?"

"Uh, sure," Virgil shrugged. He didn't dislike Emile, at all. It was just awkward, because he knew there was a point where Emile disliked him, and some part of him brain told him that those feelings were still there, and that he was only being nice because he had too.

Like he could read his anxious thoughts, Emile started to reassure him. "Me and Remy owe you a huge apology. I'm sorry that we treated you so badly when you were a dark side...we should've known to just wait until you adjusted-"

"When I first came to live here, I pushed everyone away. Including you. I treated you badly, and you got away from that." Virgil interrupted him. "But you're right, once I adjusted, everything got better. Things changed and we changed, right?"

Emile smiled. "Yeah, exactly. Apology accepted?"

"Yeah, apology accepted." Virgil smiled back at him.

"Can I come in?" Emile asked, trying to look around him.

"We can't hang out in here!" Virgil denied quickly, stepping forward and shutting his door behind him. Emile seemed shocked, and a bit hurt that he wasn't allowed, but he nodded slowly.

"You deserve privacy. We can go to the living room and do something."

Virgil nodded, following him to the commons. They both took a seat, sitting in an awkward silence until Emile attempted to start a conversation. "So...what do you like doing, Virgil?" Emile asked. Virgil thought about how to phrase his response, trying to avoid mentioning his more childish hobbies.

"I go online a lot, and I watch movies and stuff. I don't know, I just spend a lot of time with the others..." he mumbled. "You?"

"Same, mostly. I'm the therapist in the village so that's what I've been busying myself with, keeping all of Thomas's characters and figments happy and healthy. I also just spend a lot of time with Remy." Emile shrugged.

"When did you and Remy start dating? Has that been like, a long term thing or is it new?"

"Long term, I guess. We've been together for a few months," Emile tried not to go into detail here. Remy was his caregiver, and he was his, and in order to avoid mentioning that, he'd have to stick to the romantic parts of their relationship. "What about you and Roman? How did that happen?"

"Things were complicated between everyone due to the dark sides getting involved with everything, so all of us were stressed. I started spending more time with Roman and then it just kinda...happened? Logan and Patton got together just before we did..." Virgil explained. Emile smiled.

"I'm glad you guys are so happy. It's nice knowing that you guys are closer then you were before. You guys also made friends with the Dark Sides, which is cool." Emile seemed kinda tense at that, biting his lip.

"Are you- are you scared of the dark sides?" Virgil questioned.

Emile shrugged. "They're kinda mean, or at least...they were."

"They're getting better about that. I won't let them treat you or Remy badly, just don't assume that they haven't changed."

Emile nodded quickly, the two falling into silence. How come this was so awkward? "Do you have crayons and coloring books?" Emile asked.

Coloring always helped him calm down. Remy would often sit him down and have him color after throwing a fit or getting frustrated while little. It seemed like an odd punishment, but he'd calm down after a few minutes and would be able to talk to Remy about whatever happened.

He thought that maybe, if he distracted himself with coloring, talking to Virgil might be easier.

"I mean- yeah, but why?" Virgil immediately seemed skeptical, not knowing what he was planning.

"I thought it'd give us something to do besides sit in silence when we run out of things to talk about..." Emile explained. Virgil didn't know how to object that, nodding a bit.

"Okay, I'll go find them." he agreed.

He came back a few minutes later with a stack of coloring books and a box of crayons. "You guys have a lot of coloring books," Emile chuckled, moving down from the couch to the floor as Virgil cleared the coffee table, spreading out the books and setting down the box of crayons.

"There's definitely more." Virgil assured, moving to sit next to Emile on the floor.

"Why do you have so many?" he claimed a Lilo and Stitch book, flipping through it. Virgil paused, not being able to come up with words.

"Is it an anxiety thing? Because coloring helps me too," Emile suggested, after a few moments of Virgil trying to come up with an excuse. Emile realized that his question might've been a little personal.

"Y-yeah, something like that." Virgil laughed it off, picking out a book.

As they colored and gossiped, they both somewhat repressed a headspace that felt so easy to slip into. Coloring really did help the awkwardness though.

If they ran out of things to say, Emile would compliment Virgil's crayon skills and that would fade into another train of conversation. When they fell into silence, it was because they were focused on drawing, and it didn't feel weird. They remained big by talking about anything and everything. Their boyfriends, their jobs, things that have happened.

They both had to avoid any stories that involved themselves or another side being little. Little did they know, they were both hiding the same thing. Eventually they'd figure everything out, but for now, they were stuck in a loop of keeping secrets uselessly.

It was frustrating hiding the little part of their lives, but they eventually got used to Remy and Emile being around. The Dark Sides even hung out with them. For the first time in a long time, it really felt like all the sides were united. There were some tensions, sure.

Like Janus being jealous of Roman, due to the prince replacing him in his only sacred spot of being Virgil's caregiver.

Like Remus trying to adjust to his regression without Remy and Emile finding out,

Like everyone trying to hide this 'secret' from each other.

But overall, they were getting along well. Thomas was doing much better managing his love life when the whole Romance Committee was there to help. Virgil attended meetings now, he deserved to have a say in that too. Everyone sort of apologized to each other about the sides previously being so divided.

It was almost like the labels of Core, Dark, and Neutral didn't matter anymore. They were just technicalities, not barriers. Everything seemed to flow better when they worked together. How did they manage separately for so long?

Besides the working aspect, it just generally felt like everyone was getting closer. Awkwardness faded as they laughed and joked.

Patton almost felt like his family was getting bigger. It was getting bigger.

And after just a few more issues are resolved, and a few secrets are shared, that statement will become more and more true.

Let's see how those loose ends are tied up before we get to the end of the story...

#ts agere #ts littlespace #sanders sides agere #sanders sides littlespace #no little sides in this one yall

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recurring-polynya · 3 years

Note

Hey an AU request for you:

During Renruki separation what if the roles were reversed. Like if Renji gets adopted (in some rival noble clan) and Rukia is left behind. Or else if Renji is going to be executed instead of Rukia. Want to feel the angst from Rukia's POV.

Let me know if these scenarios are good enough.

Thanks as always ☺️❤️

Hello, yes, I realize this was not precisely what you were asking for, but here is a scene that has been charging me rent in my own head since at least 2019, and it’s close enough and I am using this as an excuse to get it out. Thank you for your indulgence.

The actual role swap in this scenario is what if Renji had gotten Sode no Shirayuki, a zanpakutou who embodies patience and planning and thoughtfulness, and Rukia ended up with Zabimaru, a zanpakutou who just wants to fuck shit up.

Read on ao3 or ff.net (this one felt substantial enough that I made it a standalone and also I finally had an excuse to name a fic after one of my favorite Oh Hellos songs.)

🗡️ 💔 💀

The air is heavy and thick in the World of the Living. It is oppressive, as if this very plane has its own reiatsu, as if it intends to oppose their mission. It’s just a thunderstorm gathering, though, a combination of atmospheric pressure and electrical potential.

Kuchiki Renji, Lieutenant of the Sixth Division and Heir to the great and noble Kuchiki Clan would like to finish this up before they are drenched, but he isn’t optimistic.

He stands on the roof of a human house, looking down at a nearly identical residence across the street, although this one bears signage indicating that it is also a neighborhood medical clinic.

Renji cannot feel her, but he doesn’t expect to. When Rukia doesn’t want to be found, she doesn’t get found, end of story. Renji can feel the human though, the human whom Rukia has given her powers. He can’t fathom why, but all of Rukia’s ways are inscrutable, they always have been. From the morning she saved his life from an enraged water vendor to the evening she walked away from the adopted family that gave them both names and a place in the world, Renji has never understood a single thought that entered her thick skull. Even if he can’t understand her, though, she is transparent to him, predictable.

He just needs to draw her out. And that part is easy.

Byakuya says nothing. Renji has explained his logic, and Byakuya is giving him the six feet of rope he needs to hang himself. Byakuya is also inscrutable, yet predictable. Sometimes, Renji wonders how the man managed to live in the same house as Rukia for as long as he did.

“Nii-sama,” Renji says softly. Byakuya does not like being asked for reassurances, but on this point, Renji requires it. “The orders said capture or kill.”

Byakuya waits.

“Shall I strive for the first?”

Byakuya makes a tiny throat-clearing noise. “I have fulfilled my obligation to that girl. I owe her nothing. Do what is necessary.”

Byakuya would never come out and tell Renji to kill Rukia, but the message is clear enough. Despite separating herself from the family thirty years ago, a trial, a jail sentence will be an embarrassment to the Kuchiki, an exhumation of old mistakes. Rukia will always be an inkblot on Byakuya’s conscience. Byakuya has never held this against Renji, which is probably the only sign of affection his adoptive brother has ever shown him.

Renji has done nearly everything Byakuya has ever asked of him. He is an obedient brother, hardworking and respectful. He practices the family sword form, he studies the history of Soul Society, he respects his elders. He has risen in the ranks of the Gotei, he has gained his bankai, he wears the kenseikan, even though they bite into his scalp. But Renji was only adopted into the family for one reason: to ensure Rukia’s compliance, and in that, he failed.

It is time to make up for that.

Renji jumps lightly from one rooftop to the other and over the ridge of the roof. The boy’s window is on the rear side of the house. He drops down onto the windowsill. His Hell Butterfly hovers at shoulder height. “Go on,” he urges it forward, to create a passage through the wall of the house. He hopes his hunch is correct. He does not relish the idea of murdering a young human in his bed.

It is not an issue. A dark shape rips itself from the shadows, but Renji has his zanpakutou from her sheath in an instant. Instead of Zabimaru’s wicked serrations, however, he finds himself blocking the worst shakkahou he’s seen since Byakuya sent him down to Shin’ou to scout out next year’s crop of students. It’s enough to momentarily blind him, though, and he leaps down to the ground to find steadier footing.

This isn’t right. Although Rukia prefers to rely on her sword, it’s not out of her M.O. to use kidou for a sneak attack. But why bother with a distraction when she could have just blown his head off? Rukia’s kidou are rarely elegant and Renji isn’t sure she even knows the chants, but what she has is power. Or rather, what she had.

Renji scans the backyard slowly. The grass at his feet is freezing over in a slowly widening circle. Careful, careful! Sode no Shirayuki sings in his mind.

Suddenly, he feels the crackle of hainawa and he leaps out of the way just in time, flinging an avalanche of ice in the direction of his attacker. Rukia’s kick catches him in mid-air, but he blocks it with a forearm. It doesn’t ring through his bones the way it should, though.

Renji lands on his heels and skids a few feet. Rukia’s toes hit the dirt just a second after. For a moment, their eyes meet. The air is so humid, it’s thick enough to swim in.

“Abarai,” Rukia snarls, baring a sharp canine. “Of course, they would send you.” She snorts. “Scratch that, I bet you volunteered.”

Renji sneers at her, but ignores the dig at his name. “I’m impressed, Rukia. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone botch a patrol mission so thoroughly.” He sheaths his sword.

Rukia barks out a laugh. “What’s this? Your sense of fairness? Gonna try to kill me with your bare hands, then?”

He’d rather not kill her at all. Byakuya will be peeved, but Renji doesn’t like the idea of running through an unarmed woman. “What is this, Rukia? You’ve given a human your full powers, haven’t you? Why?”

“It was an accident,” Rukia mumbles, her eyes darting to the side.

Renji narrows his eyes. “Where did you get that gigai?”

“A friend.”

“There was an intelligence report from the Stealth Force. A Menos showed up, just for a few minutes before it was driven back to Hueco Mundo with a sword wound. I assumed that was your doing, but you don’t seem to have a sword at the moment. Unless the Menos took that rusty piece of--”

“Fuck, Renji, don’t you ever get sick of listening to your own stupid voice?” Rukia spits, and in a second, she is on him, a blur of fists and feet.

Renji didn’t put his sword away because he thought he wouldn’t need it. He put it away because he knew that he would need two hands to deal with Rukia in hand-to-hand, even at 2% of her power, or whatever dregs she has left.

“I’m trying--” he backpedals furious, blocking blow after blow, “--to help you! I realize that your brain has probably atrophied down to the size of a walnut-- ouch! -- but doesn’t any of this seem fishy to you?”

“The only thing fishy is you questioning an order!” Rukia snaps, as Renji narrowly avoids getting his feet swept from under him. “We may not have much for brains in Eleven, but unlike the Sixth, at least we use what we’ve got!”

Suddenly, Renji manages to loop one of his arms under hers and spin her into a half-nelson. Her feet pedal furiously in mid-air. His spare hand presses her wrist against her rib cage to keep her from clawing the skin off his arm, and also to try and support her weight. “Can you breathe?” he makes sure, as he tries to figure out a way he can hold her still with one hand long enough to get a binding on her.

“Yes,” she grunts angrily. “Why are you doing this? Don’t you know you’re gonna be in trouble with Nii-sama if you bring me back alive?” She spits the honorific like venom.

“You’re wrong,” Renji mutters. He hates this. He hates how stupid this is. He hates that after all this time, her stupid arrows still find their mark, every single time. “You’re wrong if you think he’s spent even a second thinking about you since you threw away everything he gave you. You’re trash to him.”

“Is that what I am to you, too?” Rukia asks archly.

“You’re--” Renji starts to say, and then hits the deck as a sword whistles through the air where his neck had been a moment before. He loses his grip on Rukia, and she rolls away, but Renji’s got more immediate problems. He shifts to a crouch, his hand loose on Sode no Shirayuki’s hilt as he scans the shadows for his assailant.

As it happens, said assailant isn’t exactly subtle. “Hey, Rukia, this guy wears the same pajamas as you. Friend of yours?”

It is the boy, the one who buzzes with reiatsu that both is and isn’t Rukia’s. He is a gangling puppy of a human being, all elbows and ears. His hair is an unnatural orange and sticks out from his head as though he has just rolled out of bed. Given the hour, perhaps he has.

“Get out of here, Ichigo, this guy isn’t a joke!” Rukia screams, and Renji realizes that she is genuinely frightened.

“He sure looks like one,” the kid, Ichigo declares, hefting his sword up onto his shoulder. It is clearly a zanpakutou, but it is absurdly large. He can barely lift the thing. “And people say my hair is a dumb color.”

“My name is Kuchiki Renji,” Renji informs him. “Assistant Captain of the Sixth Division of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. I am here to take Kuchiki Rukia, Sixth Seat of the Eleventh into custody for the crime of transferring her shinigami powers to a human. I do not wish to kill you, human, but if you interfere, I will not hesitate.”

“Wait, what?” Ichigo sputters. “Rukia, I thought your name was Inuzuri? Is this guy your brother? If so, he sure got all the height genes. I am so, so confused.”

Rukia rises to her feet. Her face is pale in the moonlight. A line of blood shines on her forehead, glassy against the black of her tattoos. “He’s my fiance.”

“Your what now?”

Renji snorts. “Former fiance.”

“I don’t recall breaking up with you!” Rukia barks.

Renji wants to laugh. He doesn’t know which is more typical Rukia-- the idea that rejecting his family and not speaking to him for thirty years would somehow not count as a break-up, or that now is somehow an appropriate time to talk about this.

There are a lot of feelings pumping through Renji’s heart, but he freezes them to ice and pushes them away. There is no room for feelings on a battlefield. “I am taking Rukia back to Soul Society. If you do not resist me, I swear to it that no harm will come to her before her trial.” Byakuya wanting Rukia dead is just a feeling, too. The Kuchiki must stand for justice, right? This is a good compromise, Renji rationalizes. I cannot kill her in cold blood in front of a witness, but if they force my hand, things happen. Surely even Byakuya would agree with this line of logic.

Ichigo’s eyes dart to Rukia. “What about after the trial? Is this, like, a thing where you pay a fine, or…?”

“I’ll be executed, most likely,” Rukia replies dryly.

Ichigo’s jaw clenches.

“You’re a valuable asset to the Gotei,” Renji corrects. “Central may be lenient.”

The two strongest young shinigami in their generation, people used to say, when Rukia and Renji entered the Sixth together. His iron nerves tempering her volatility, her fiery passion igniting his cold aloofness. The next Kyouraku and Ukitake. No wonder the Kuchiki plucked them from obscurity.

Renji doesn’t know what people say about them now. Now that he is the sole Heir to the Kuchiki. Now that she fights among the animals of the Eleventh. People’s voices go quiet at his approach. Byakuya says it isn’t wise to listen to gossip in any case.

“Hmmm,” Ichigo shifts his sword to an attack stance. “I don’t like the sounds of those odds. I think maybe I’ll just beat your ass instead.”

“Ichigo, move!” Rukia starts, but Renji has heard the words he needs to hear.

Renji’s favorite parts of the Kuchiki sword form are the quick draw techniques. He is not as fast as Byakuya, but he is very, very fast, and his reach is better. In an instant, he has closed the distance between himself and the boy. Maybe it was a lucky reflex or maybe it was Rukia’s warning, but Ichigo manages to get that huge sword up just in time to avoid having his chest sliced open. Renji’s assault is merciless. If it weren’t for the stupid power limiter, which Renji isn’t used to, he’s sure he would have cracked the boy’s zanpakutou clear in half. Despite her appearance, Sode no Shirayuki is not a delicate sword and Renji swings her with the inevitability of a glacier.

As Ichigo backpedals, his foot catches on a loose paver, and he stumbles. Renji raises his arm, preparing to deliver the killing blow, when suddenly, a knee in his back punches the air from his lungs, and his elbow is jerked forcibly backwards.

“NOW!” Rukia’s voice bellows in Renji’s ear.

The stumble was a feint, because Ichigo is Rukia’s student, and of course she has taught him all her dirty tricks. Renji realizes he has made the mistake of thinking he could beat Rukia, just because she has no powers and no zanpakutou. She still knows him better than anyone, though. She knows his moves and she knows what a rank fool he is. As Ichigo’s sword plunges towards his stomach, Renji flares his reiatsu as best as he can, and hopes Rukia’s pet human isn’t strong enough to pierce it.

But before the blow lands, Ichigo’s eyes widen. He lets out a gurgle and falls sideways.

“Renji,” says Captain Kuchiki. “What is taking so long?”

It seems as though time is standing still, except that the pool of blood surrounding Ichigo’s prone form is growing, growing.

“No,” Rukia murmurs. “No, no, no.” Suddenly, her feet scrabble up Renji’s back, and she launches herself off of his shoulders. “You!!” she screams.

There is nothing she can do to Byakuya. Her hands glow with raw kidou, but she is weak. It is the desperate, useless move of a cornered animal.

Renji knows that animal instincts are useless, which is why he has trained every day to eradicate them. To ignore his fear, to replace his body’s natural reflexes with the kata of his sword form. So even though he knows Rukia’s attack is hopeless, he cannot help but react to an attack against his Clan Head.

Rukia hits the ground next to Ichigo with a dull thump.

Her body is wrapped in the glowing chains of hainawa.

Renji’s hand shakes, his breathing is heavy.

Rukia is screaming filthy obscenities at both of them.

Byakuya regards Renji silently. His eyes linger on Renji's sword, naked in his hand. A different reflex, and there would be two corpses on the ground.

“She should face trial, Nii-sama,” Renji says softly. “If we do not uphold justice, who shall?”

“The law, Renji,” Byakuya corrects him. “We uphold the law.” He jerks his head at the screaming woman on the ground. “Pick her up. Others are coming and you will only become more sentimental if I am forced to kill additional humans.”

Renji kneels and gathers Rukia in his arms. She does not make it easy, probably in hopes that he will toss her over his shoulder instead of this humiliation, but she is the brute, not him. He will not give her the satisfaction.

As Renji narrowly avoids a headbutt, though, he realizes that this is not merely a display of defiance. It is a distraction. “Nii-sama,” he says as he straightens up, “I do not think the human is dead.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Byakuya sighs. “I have severed his hakusui and saketsu. Even if he survives the wound, he will be powerless, and Rukia’s power should return to her.”

Byakuya considers his lieutenant’s full arms for a moment, makes a disgusted face, and then draws his sword to open the senkaimon home himself.

While Byakuya’s attention is turned, Rukia leans into Renji’s, her breath hot on his jaw. “I will kill him for this,” she spits in his ear. “And if you get in my way, I will kill you too.”

“Then we are enemies,” Renji replies quietly, “since I am sworn to protect him.”

The first fat drops of rain begin to fall from the sky.

#my writing #wacky au requests #i have never been a big fan of enemies-to-lovers #but it turns out i'm a HUGE fan of lovers-to-enemies #if you too are a big fan of lovers-to-enemies i cannot recommend enough that you listen to the entire album of dear wormwood #every oh hellos song is about renruki #and if it's not i will make it #this feels like the culmination of my life's works #if i get even one 'wtf polynya' in the notes i will be content

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steves-on-a-plane · 3 years

Text

A Tradition

For @thefanficfaerie‘s OTP Challenge (2020) Words: 723 Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Prompt: Winter Wonderland: Day 4 - A Tradition Summary: Reader & Steve are making paper chain garland to decorate with, a tradition she used to do with her brother and sister when she was younger. Being away from the family this year has been hard. Steve thinks he knows of one way he can help his best gal still see her family close.

“Now this is a Christmas tradition I know something about.” Steve informed you confidently. The two of you were sitting on the couch in your living room. You were cutting strips of colored paper and looping them through one another to form paper chains. “Buck and I used to make these every year.” He told you as he squeezed a dab of white glue onto one of his paper strips. “We used to have a competition to see who could make the longest one.”

“Well, I know how competitive you can be. I assume you always won?” You guessed. You reached for the scissors and began cutting more paper strips.

“It was probably about half and half.” Steve confessed. “But honestly we always got distracted by something else before a winner was declared.”

“My brother and I used to make these.” You told him. “My sister too, but she didn’t like crafts much. She’d stay for maybe twenty minutes. Just long enough to cut one sheet of paper and glue maybe five or six links before she’d sneak away to play with the cat or do something else. It’s doing little things with them like this that I miss the most. It’s not really the same as an adult.” You sighed. “Though I guess nothing is the same this year.”

“I’m going to make another coffee. Do you want one?” Steve asked picking up his coffee cup.

“No thanks.” You shook your head. Steve disappeared for a while. Longer than a cup of coffee took to make. You didn’t notice because you were occupied with your craft project. When Steve did return, he was holding an iPad and talking to it. “Do you need help with that thing?”

“No, no. I got it.” Steve promised. “It did take me a minute to figure out but…” Steve placed the iPad down on the coffee table. You looked down to see your brother & your sister’s faces looking back at you.

“Hey sis!” Your sister waved excitedly from her half of the screen.

“Steve says you’re making paper chains, like when we were kids?” You brother asked. He tilted the camera on his phone so that you could see his own two kids sitting on the floor of their living room making paper chains. “Great minds think alike, right?” Your brother laughed.

“No way!” Your sister exclaimed. “I made some too, but I did mine last week.” She tilted her head slight and pointed to the background where you could see a small chain of silver and gold hanging across a bookcase in her bedroom. “Oh, I miss doing those with you guys so much!”

“I miss you guys too!” You blinked, fighting back the happy tears that were threating to spill out. It wasn’t just that you were happy to see and talk with your siblings, though that was important to you too. It was also a comfort to know that they were carrying on small family traditions in their own homes. It felt like you had a small part of each other represented in your houses despite the physical distance away.

You chatted with your brother and sister for an hour or so. They talked about how they’d been since you talked last. Your niece showed you some drawings she made, and your nephew told you about how much he liked doing school at home. Eventually the call had to come to an end as your sister had grocery shopping to do and your brother had to take his kids to pick out a tree. But you promised to talk again soon before ending the call.

“Thank you.” Was the first thing you said to Steve. “I didn’t know how much I needed that. It helped, talking to them.”

“I know we’re trying to do an old-fashioned Christmas,” Steve said, “But I recognize that technology has it’s benefits too. Just because you and your family can’t physically be together this year, doesn’t mean we can’t all come together to celebrate.”

“I’m genuinely impressed that you knew how to do a three-way Facetime call.” You smiled at him proudly.

“Oh I had no idea.” Steve confessed. “I texted Tony for step-by-step instructions. That’s why it took me so long to make a coffee.”

“Well, the grand gesture is noted just the same.” You insisted.

#Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers Reader Insert #Steve Rogers Imagine #Steve Raogers Fan Fic #Steve Rogers Fan Fiction #Steve Rogers FF #OTP Challenge #OTP Challenge 2020 #Winter Wonderland #Winter Wonderland 2020

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writingsofmyimagination · 4 years

Text

Instinct |6|

Levi x Reader

Summary: An unwelcome(ish) blast from the Captain’s trainee days comes back to the Scouting Regiment and old habits die hard.

Instinct: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

So I decided to carry on with the series. Bit of a time jump... now around Chapter 72 time :)

tags: @nefelimalfoy @beautifulimperfections13 @pjimochi @submissive-bangtan

Enjoy :)

Words:3232

Warnings: Swearing (Obvs), Smut, Smut -Pretty Sub Levi…..Like Oooof!

“Sooo, how did it go with Erwin, I assume you tried again to convince him to stay” Levi and you merged to walk the same direction in the dusty courtyard. Green cape briskly swept over your shoulder as the wind nipped at your forearms; little pin pricks of cold. The temperature measured equally in Levi’s dark face; hair half drooped over his forehead. The orange hue from all the lamps casting a shadow covering a scowl which quickly came into view.

“That good huh?” you added, trying to coax blood out of a stone.

“Those two brats just don’t stop” The stone completing dodging the question.

“Again!?” Eyes rolling.

“You should just let them go for it; they’d tire themselves out eventually”

“Ugh… if I didn’t need to make sure his energy was fully preserved for tomorrow I would” Levi unburdened you of the large unopened bottle of vodka from under your arm.

“Corporal YL/N” Erwin called as he added another walking body to the courtyard.

“I’ll catch up” You offered Levi as he’d already turned his back to you and walked off. The trio of Mikasa, Eren and Armin bundled out of the canteen hall in a cheery ball of jest.

“Hey suicidal maniac!” Jean called propping the canteen door open with his foot, hand gripped around a green survey corp jacket.

“You forgot this” Jacket launched quicker than Eren could react. You rushed over before Eren had finished screaming ‘You little…’. Your fist tight around Eren’s. You twisted his arm manipulating him to the ground before he could strike.

“Aaah” Eren wailed as he picked himself up from the dirt.

“Jean, extra clean up duty” His face shadowed with annoyance; Eren’s on the other hand brightened.

“Eren after this mission cleaning duty with Levi wherever he chooses”. It was now Eren’s turn for his face to drop and Jean’s to brighten in a balanced 360.

“Yes Corporal” They both mumbled heads down. Jean disappeared back to the canteen and Eren slumped down on the steps next to Mikasa and Armin.

“Sorry Commander” Returning to where you were called.

“It’s quite alright, ready for tomorrow?”

“As ready as you can be” Your response was still yet polite.

“Oh come on Y/N, I know your pumped, no need to be restrained for me. Anyway, I just wanted to assure you that I will be commanding tomorrows mission Despite the chattering going through the core at present”

“Sir, honestly, I wouldn’t expect anything less, this is your dream too”

“Levi tried to convince me otherwise, to his failure of course”

“He did mention it, mostly in the form of him being quieter and slightly grumpier than normal”

A slight knowing smile crept minutely onto Erwin’s lips.

“I thought as much, anyway, enjoy your night. I assume the bottle Levi stropped off with was for you”

“Most definitely more for me. Good night commander. Rest well”.

The trio were still sat perched on the steps. Armin, the forever motivator of life beyond the walls exciting the others. The glimmer of hope sprinkled on their expressions light bright fairy dust a refreshing view. Even on Mikasa it was a sight to behold.

Entering the archway something black and still in the corner drew your attention. Head dropped down, his sullen gaze lightened, a few creases less on his face when the confusion struck yours.

“Didn’t know earwigging was your thing” You said, quieter to not alert the three kids. Levi shuffled himself off the floor and vigorously brushed himself down, slight creases grew in his forehead at checking his hands. He gave one more rushed wipe down before you both made your way to his office

“I wasn’t earwigging… I was listening to the brats be hopeful and dream about the future” There was slight distaste scattered through his words.

“Sooooo earwigging…. And is that a bad thing?” The over-dramatic roll of his eyes was heard like a sassy echo in the bare office he liked to squirrel away in.

All that was scattered on the wooden table to the back of the room was a few sheets of paper with diagrams, drawing, indecipherable scribbles that only Levi could understand.

He slumped himself down onto the armed wooden chair, scowl still present staring blankly down at the desk.

Jeez he really is in a grump.

“Okay captain scowl!” You began.

“Erwin needs this, I’m sure he is more than aware that this could potentially be his last mission. He’s not the type to sit back the same way you aren’t” Your arms now folded, strength firm in your stance.

“But his loss would be detrimental to humanity, guy is a damn genius”

“Yeessss he’s a genius, will it be a huge hit, course it will, but he wouldn’t be going if he knew that the Corps wouldn’t be in good hands if something were to happen” He shuffled the papers into a somewhat neater pile and placed them meticulously down in the centre of the table.

“I suppose your right” He conceded twiddling a pencil through his fingers.

“Aren’t I always?” Whisky frosting half of the small tumbler a golden brown which soon disappeared when the glass touched your lips.

“Now....” hanging onto the word diffusing into something much more sultry

You waltzed over to his desk, fingers already teasing undone the buttons of your blouse.

“Can you please stop thinking about work, it’s going to be a challenging day tomorrow as it is” you pleaded leaning against his desk facing him. The final button undone, sight teasing him away from his concentration. Holding the sides of the shirt like curtains to a happier Levi.

“Understatement” He mumbled, his finger finding its way through a belt loop, corner of his lips turning up to a wicked smirk, just how you like them.

“It’s also an understatement that you’re such a tease” he added, the shimmering glaze of mischief reflecting in his eyes coaxed a raised eyebrow with the victorious tinge of your lips.

“Oh Soo I am tempting you then?” his leg now in between yours, his hand resting on your sides

“Perhaps” He tugged at your bra with strong determined hands freeing your breast for his teeth to lightly toy with. Your only was response to hum in approval.

“LEEEVVIIII!” A high wailed cry barely muffled by the dark wooden door.

“Shit!” the pair of you breathed unanimously. You didn’t have any time to fix any of your clothing predicament before the door crashed open and Hanje burst in. To her you were just lent up against Levi’s desk with your arms folder; Levi remained in the chair stoic as ever.

Don’t come round!, don’t come round!

Panicked thoughts spun through your mind like a pin wheel.

“What do you want Hanje?” Annoyance slipping over Levi’s voice coating of distaste thoroughly embedded through it.

“I just wanted to let you know everything is ready for tomorrow”

That’s oddly calm considering her entrance.

Hanje looked mildy uncomfortable, her cheeks were slightly puffed, eyes were wide and flitty. Thankfully she’d not move from where she stopped on the right side of the desk.

You and Levi both waited a beat

“AREN’T YOU BOTH SOOO EXCITED!” She finally burst, her body fully exploding with movement. High pitched; almost intolerable. Levi’s eyes rolled. Obviously.

There we go.

“We’re going to THE BASEMENT!” she continued, her hyped up voice became distant as it was drowned out by the concentration of your fingers being sly in trying to do your buttons up. Levi thankfully battered no eyelids at your miniscule movements. Your shoulders dropped, reveal crisis averted.

“I’m aware” Levi droned

“Is Levi not too much of a damn stone to be spending all this time with? If I didn’t know Levi had such a small capacity for emotions, I’d say you two are a thing”

Hilarious. He may not have the massive heart…

“Can you actually imagine?” You laughed competing with her hysterics.

“Jesus Christ Ladies!” Levi complained tutting.

“I’m sorry Levi” Hanje managed still trying to control her laughter turning and leaving humming way too loudly on her exit.

“Can you not encourage that damn woman” He whined, stood out of his chair encroaching on your personal space, stealing a hard kiss from you.

“I thing you’ll find I’m helping our cover.” The two of you quickly became absorbed into each other again. As cold as he could be, his body never failed to be the warmth pressed against you that you needed.

“I think you’re a pain in my ass” he quipped back.

A pain in his ass he couldn’t let go of

“If you take me upstairs, I will be” You tested. His smirk against your lips was matched, pupils growing pools of craving.

Door clicked shut on the rest of the world, his shirt racing to the floor before you could tussle the buttons of your own shirt back open. The back of your legs hitting the rough surface of the table, the contact not disrupting the soft pressure of his lips dancing with yours; his bottom lip catching numerous times between the gentle tug of your teeth. The harsh pillows didn’t linger on your lips for long. The nips at your neck quickly ached with desperation, impatience crying through the hands fumbling at your trouser buttons. Your trousers pooled at the floor; strong grip at your waist encouraging you half onto the table. You placed a stern hand on his chest in halt.

“What’s wrong?” He breathed through staggered breathes. You answered with movement grabbing the towel from the dresser and coating the table.

“I’m not getting splinters for you. On your knees” You ordered sliding up onto the table after slipping of your underwear in a seductive swoop. Levi on his knees focused glistened eyes zoning on your every small movement. His glare ran ablaze with your foot firm on his shoulder, drinking in the view of soft pale skin. The thighs he knew looked so pretty with blossoming red flower bruises. The way he loved to make them quiver; you whimpering his name.

“Always so patient” you praised. His insides were clenched, teetering on the edge of desperation. Dying for your call. He swallowed hard, with the insatiable thirst had ravaging over him. This may have combusted when your hand dipped between your own thighs. Humanities strongest kneeling desperate on the floor beneath you trying to harness all the will to stay put.

“Tell me what you want” you offered your hand, foot sliding of his shoulder. His mouth enveloped round the wetness of your fingers; a deep hum vibrated through his throat.

Your legs now parted with him snug in-between. He was making you wait for his answer.

“Well?” He stilled for a moment completely faking to ponder. Hands ghosting up your lower leg, your soft skin only imploring him higher. Your index finger stroking come hither under his chin

“Mmm” The pair of you mumbled, white knuckles gripped his shoulders. Even with your lips pressed together you could feel the wicked way the edges of his lips curled upwards.

“This” he managed, drowning out your whine. Already feeling the controlled digits inside pressing to your walls.

“Be more specific or you get nothing” pleasant strain and held back whines hidden terribly in your voice.

“Ugh” Levi complained.

“Did you roll your eyes at me?”

“On the chair!”. Your tone snapper quicker than a whip.

“You can’t tell me what you want, then I’m just going to keep giving until I’m finished with you”

“Hands behind your back until I say otherwise” you added, hands prying his thighs wider.

“Eyes on me baby” He tried not to blink. Forcing himself to look down, refusing his eyes to roll upward as you’d dropped to your knees. Tongue licking a slow stripe on the underside of his member. His bottom lip catching between his teeth. He could only enjoy the sweet warmth of your mouth for a few blissful moments before his bottom lip puffed out in hardcore sulk mode. You turned from him, sweeping your hair to the front of your shoulder carefully balancing your weight as you lowered yourself onto him; not how he’d like. You’d sat on his lap purposely avoiding him. Your hips circled, your head back resting the side of his neck, his low whines now right at the shell of your ear.

“Oh did you think I’d give it up that easy?”

“Don’t think so ….”

You thumb teased over the tip of his cock before honing your attention to focus on the movement of your hips”

“Please” He whined

“I’ve hardly done anything” You toyed. Knowing full well it didn’t matter; not with the fact the pair of you had had little time over the last week or so. It was all just too easy to get to him.

“Mmm…no. You can sit there and feel me.”

Frustration began seething though his controlled breaths, hips trying to match your movements under your weight. Your skin was heating up, but yet you could almost shiver with how sparked your nerve endings were. His lips stuttering soundlessly

“Something you wanna say?”

“Please just cum on me…”

Pale milky wax in droplets solidified on his chest. Each one earned a hiss past his lips with the occasional curse chucked into the air for measure. Moisture gathered where his hair met his skin and shone in the flickering candlelight

Small red flower patches blossomed so prettily when the wax dropped of his skin. Your lips followed the beautiful field to the buds on his chest. His desperate groan elicited at the grip of your teeth his hips couldn’t help but buck up into you.

“Levi…Fuck!” Finally allowing yourself to sink down onto him, exasperated pants omitted by both of you in solace.

“Please let me have you now, I need yooou” Your hands still at his chest, hips circling at a painful pace. Torturous eyes hand in hand with the unforgiving smirk beaming.

“But I love it when you’re so desperate, you’ll be begging me to stop when you’re too sensitive”

“How many times can you cum before you can’t take it anymore?” Levi had a damn near ridiculous refractory period, in addition to his extraordinary strength and healing speed. You loved it and saw it as a fun challenge to push it.

“Had enough? More?” You asked the writhing body under you, smirk still strong on your face. Moans choked in his throat. His stomach drizzled with himself, the rest of him you wiped away from around your lips. The veins in his neck jumping as he turned to you, his chest rising and falling in steadying moves. The unmistakeable moisture filled eyes, water gathering at the corners in frustrated droplets. His muscles quivering under your touch, so flooded with sensitivity.

“You” he whined, voice becoming dryer and crying with desperation with each passing breathe.

“Oh you think you can go one more with me?” You’d allowed yourself very little. Your walls were throbbing against nothing. The tension that had filled your muscles the tightly wound fibres needed an outlet.

The exhausted body beneath you moved with a sudden refilled confidence and stability knocking you back. Your hands locked behind his neck; you were half sat up and supported through his hand at your lower back. A fresh accelerated fire fight raging behind the dark orbs of his eyes, you’d pushed him, he’d had enough. Your cry had the hint of a giggle finally having him inside you, cheeky smile under your bit lip.

“Stop being a tortuous brat, ride me, make yourself cum around me or swear to god”

“Swear to god what?” you challenged clenching around him. His response; hissing with regret. Over-sensitivity pained in his features; brows knitted together as yours widened with your smile.

“Mmm” the pained hum melted right in your ear. Melted chocolate dripping of a soft pink marshmallow. Unwavering stable hand still solid supporting you. Your weight cradled into him, fingertips digging into his shoulder blades. Finally allowing your hips to spiral, unwinding all the patience you’ve exercised. Currents of heated heavy breaths washed across your chest. He ceased to challenge with any more words. Chest pushed against his; heat gathering in moist droplets between you.

You stole as many messy kisses in-between your moans and whines as you could; Levi had resorted to mostly grunts, his hips movements becoming staggered, each thrust becoming harder but seemingly more exhaustive. You shifted your weight forward. You’d felt his muscles begin to shake. Levi was now on his back hair falling against the pillow as beautiful black spikes.

“God you feel so good” You whined rolling your hips. Hands planted cupped around his thighs, gripping hard nails leaving crescents in the muscled flesh. With your back arched, chest bare and vulnerable to the dragged out firm knead of Levi’s hands. His arms dropped to cradle your hips slowing them down.

“Too much for you baby?” You cooed sliding your hands to his chest, one creeping further to sit at his throat.

“Mmmhm…Don’t ……” He warned. You were never going heed his warning; you tightened your grip disobeying the pressure at your hips and rocking him freefalling off that cliff. His head rolled back harsh against the mattress. The intoxicating chimera of blissful pain bled into relief. Hearing the beautiful stuttering sounds and pants of Levi falling apart had you equally calling out his name with jaggged breaths.

You were gently coaxed out of sleep by floating plump kisses at your shoulders, a wandering breeze of his hand cloaking round your waist.

“Why does time go so fast” you mumbled, shifting onto your back. The cotton sheets were fresh against your exposed chest, cooled by the crisp air flowing in through the open window. High positive chirps from the birds living un-unbeknown to the burdens of the day ahead.

“Wait how come you’re not up and dressed and kicking me out of bed earlier than necessary?” The pleasant surprise had you smiling more sweetly than you’d like him to see and you felt more peace than you’d normally allow yourself.

The peace went to full blown serenity like a spring morning trickling stream when his lips half turned up followed by a soft chuckle oozing with acknowledgement.

“Jeez you moan when I up and leave and moan when I stay, am I ever going to get a break with you?” Levi huffed way to animatedly to suit him; he kicked off the sheets and went to lug himself out of the bed. You tugged him back towards you just off balance to get him on his back to secure your thighs at his hips.

“Do you honestly wanna break from this?” Flicking your hair up in your grip allowing it to trickle loosely out of your hand. You fought his weight trying to push you off, which when he actually re-calibrated his balance he managed. One hand weakly holding your wrists together above your head. You were met with silence and a smirk worthy of the first ring of hell. He bounced off and slid his white shirt on. Neither of you spoke again until you dragged yourself to the bathroom.

“Annoyingly even when you act a brat I still can’t stay away. I’d would be weird without you now”

“Exactly”

Wait what?

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #LEVI ACKERMAN #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan smut #levi x reder #captain levi #instinct

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pvremichigan · 3 years

Text

You’ll Always Be My Son. [Hell Arc Drabble 6]

The shrieking of demons behind her grew louder the more she ran. Damn it all to hell - ironically - that she was still unable to see them. All she could hear was the rumbling, the clawing and smacking on the pavement behind her. Some even seemed to hop onto the chain fences that lined the sides of people’s yards here and there. The rattling and chaotic noises echoing behind her, the whispers barely human and the screeching only growing closer and closer, as if teasing her demise before retracting and watching her continue to run for her life without pause. The exhaustion was growing, she had been running for far too long. Sometimes the calls would draw her towards certain streets, but she’d have to find a back road knowing damn well these things would be able to cut her off if she had made specific turns. The chase felt like it had lasted a lifetime, which has been a trait Mich has noticed here. Every moment of fear, agony, misery, despair... The time seemed to drag on, turning seconds into minutes. Far more than that phenomenon in real life, it was far slower than the brain could realistically perceive during moments of panic like that. As if this hell was taunting her views on time, such as nothing lasting forever and her having all the time in the world. Hell was truly tearing down her ideals... Not in a humbling way either.

The streets that she had passed were unfamiliar. Despite this resembling her neighborhood vaguely, nothing she saw was connecting. It all seemed the same and different at the same time. As if this was a hallucination, or she was in a state of delirium. Nothing made sense, nothing was recognizable. However, she was at the point where she had to make a choice.

The redhead took a risk, turning one of the corners that she knew would cause her to get cut off by the blood thirsty beasts taunting her every step. The fact that they weren’t visible made things far worse than she thought it would, but her strength in her senses proved to be more helpful in the end. She heard the crash of the wire fence to the side of her. From the impact, it seemed like the demon hopped towards it to propel itself off as it lunged at her. Using this prediction, she lunged the crowbar upwards, hoping to get it right this time.

This exact situation, exact route and running had happened nearly 8 times in a row. Each time resulting in her getting caught and mauled, torn apart piece by piece. Then... She’d have to restart and try all over again. Never once in those attempts did she get her timing and aim right with the crowbar... So this was truly just her hoping at this point. She didn’t know how many more reruns she could go through before she had to give up.

With the resistance of the impalement and the blood dripping onto the pavement, the plan seemed to work. How odd... As soon as the demon started to bleed as it fell to the ground, the other beasts stopped and surrounded it. Mich glanced back to see what was going on, slowing down ignorantly to observe. The beasts, from what it sounded like, were tearing the injured demon apart and feasting. The screams and wails of the wounded one were nearly deafening. When she assumed they were blood thirsty, she was never prepared to realize that it could be any blood.

Pausing, now thinking on it, was a terrible idea. Once they were done with that one, of course they’d be after her again. Only this time, she wouldn’t have the crowbar. And there was no way she was going through it ALL over again.

And yet...

They were finished too early. The beasts cried out, never once did they keep their eyes off of her it seemed, as they caught her off guard and lunged. Sparing the details, every nerve in her body seemed to seer and scream until she appeared... Right on that sidewalk with her crowbar.

And did it all over again, running for her life.

Having impaled the one yet again, Mich didn’t stop to look this time. She kept running down that street, no stopping even for a moment to check. Looking around, it seemed that breaking that loop caused a break in the uncanny aura to the street. The houses grew more and more familiar, discoloration still apparent but less so now than before as she could mentally note exactly whose houses were whose. The call of the soul grew louder the more she ran down the street, practically screaming once she got to the most familiar house of them all.

Her own.

The only moment she paused was to take one good look at the front of it, both figuring if it was a trap or not and also to bask in the moment that she hadn’t recognized her house for a long time... And seeing it for the first time in a while and being able to click in her mind that this was her house, recalling all the details... The warmth of home was there. She could really feel the safety she yearned for there, even if she still was in hell.

No time to spare, the woman stepped up on the very small concrete slab-like porch she spent a lot of time smoking out on, and reached towards the door handle. Opening the front door and stepping in, it really did feel like home, however there was a heavy sadness and emptiness in the air that weighed down the moment she walked in. The couch to her right right underneath the window with the loveseat to the right of that, pressed up against the wall. The staircase immediately to her left as soon as you walk in, with the tv atop the wooden bookshelf right in front of her. The door that leads to the garage and cellar... Right to the right of that. Dining room table to the right of the loveseat. The small kitchen to the right of that. Everything was in order, everything was there. Every little detail recognizable and observed for years. God... This was home. So why was the atmosphere so dreadful? Was this what she’s been feeling for years? What the house had been filling with for so long..? This is what she felt, what she had to endure... The weight was nearly crippling. How was she able to handle this for so long? Looking back, she still lacked an answer that could make sense to her. At least, a good enough answer that wasn’t simply an excuse. Looking out the window, it was pitch black outside. A drastic difference from just moments ago where it was a dreary yet light gray everywhere. Pitch black... And the beasts that had chased her were nowhere to be heard. As if she entered a different dimensional plane simply by entering a door.

After paying mind to the aura of the room, the bright glow of her soul lay right in the middle of the living room. The moment she approached, it disappeared. The frustration grew immensely, the feeling of defeat growing more than before. What was she doing wrong?! Was this a trick!? Why was she not able to reach what she’s needed to for so long now!?!

Her fists clenched as she turned around, frozen at the sight before her.

Her adopted son, Lance... Grown up... With his bags in hand and backpack over his shoulder, hand on the front door. She remembers now... Those same tears, more guilt fueled than anything, began to build. Though her heart didn’t sink, it throbbed. Painfully... But there was no dread.

The day he left... She had already been sinking to her lowest. She barely said a thing other than ‘Take care.’

To her own son... She can’t even give a proper goodbye.

Seeing what happened prior to this with Ryan, she had a feeling she knew what she had to do.

“... You did always wonder if I was mad you wanted to be human. I acted poorly, Lance... I was barely there for you, I was there even less after Ryan had vanished. Your energy gave me so much joy, despite I never showed it. Oh honey... I was never mad. I just... Didn’t express my sadness and acceptance well enough. You always loved hanging out with the other kids, you always wanted to go to school. You wanted to live. I was teaching you how to survive.”

The boy that stood in front of the door barely moved, but she could tell that - despite it not being him unsurprisingly - he was listening. These obstacles that she had to face... It was never physical because she held very little physical burdens. These problems were always mental and emotional. Facing them like she is now... It was the only way to heal at this point. Unresolved business, problems she avoided facing from the start... It was killing her just as quick as not having a soul.

“I want you to know, I was never mad at you. I supported you then even if it didn’t seem like it. I love you dearly, even if this is the last time I remember you. You were my pride and joy, Lance. My capital. You were what I had when I had nothing. I’m sorry I wasn’t always there. I’m sorry I missed out on so much... I feel like I barely got to see you grow as a person. I’ve missed so much in your life and I want you to know that you’ve grown up to be a wonderful man. You’ve grown up... I see it now. I see you now. I... Know there’s distance in every single way between us. I’m sorry you never had a father figure, I’m...”

And just as predicted, the tears fell. The guilt that fueled them was accompanied by the love she has for this boy, the love a mother has for her child. These tears... Were far less painful. They were a comfort she’s felt before. Just recently... She’s felt this type of love with another. Jack... Someone she can be better to, someone she can be there for when she never was for Lance.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t a better mother. You had so much potential and it hurt to let you go, but I want to tell you that I’m.... So... So proud of you. So very proud. You’ve done so much... You’ve accomplished your BIGGEST dream. Lance, I know you’ll never hear this, but feel it in your heart if you ever can that I love you and I’m proud of you. You’ll ALWAYS be my son, even if we don’t know each other. You’ll always be my son...”

Mich walks forward, the warmth of home and the tenderness of having her son there with her, despite him never facing her... Only facing the door... She felt far safer in here than she ever had. Even in hell... She still had the compassion in her heart to weep with joy and guilt for her son. Hell can’t be her downfall, she has too much within her to drag her down to the pits. There’s always a fight in her heart, she’s always ready to fight for her life and then some.

The proud woman reaches a hand out, resting it gently upon her ‘sons’ shoulder.

“Guess this is our last goodbye too. I never got to say goodbye to you... I never got to say any of this to you. So here I am. Not because I have to... But because I’ve had it in my heart this entire time and only now am I able to relay the message. I love you, Lance. I hope your new family loves you just as much if not more than I did. I hope your dreams never die out. I hope the world someday knows your name. If I can’t remember it... The world has to. I will let no one let your name die out with history. Go make a difference... Go change the world if you need to. Go have fun and please... Please enjoy your life. I’m so proud of you...”

“You’ll always be my son.”

The figure took a moment after she stopped, the silence lingering a moment too long as the heartbreak began to crack in again. After the extended silence, he hung his head not in disappointment, but it seemed to be in preparation for the world. Turning the door handle, there was a nearly blinding light that flooded the room the more it opened. Without looking back, the boy walked forward into the light and didn’t stop, shutting the door behind him. The light that had flooded the room was dragged out, leaving Mich in an uncomfortably dull and dim lit living room. The weight... Still remained. What a suffocating atmosphere... She could feel old habits itch at her, her feet heavy as she dragged herself over to the couch. The soul had disappeared yet again, Ryan was gone, and now Lance was gone for good. Hunched over, she put her hands against her face and wept silently to herself. This... Really did last hours this time. After all of this pain and fear and those obstacle ridden streets... She took a moment of apparent safety and calm to weep. Really let it out as if it were like taking a breather after a long run. She needed this...

She needed this.

Hours passed, there was only a brief period during the end where she was able to sit in silence and breathe. The silence was abruptly interrupted by a knock at the door. She didn’t trust it. It froze her in fear and anticipation, eyes locked on the door as her breathing slowed, barely blinking. The knock came again, but softer this time. There was no way she could trust this... But after a soft yet firmer third time, she realized that if she opened the door and got mauled, when she woke up she just... Wouldn’t answer the door again. Mich was exhausted, she was now resorting to reckless experiment.

Standing up, though hesitation slowing her down, the woman made her way to the door. Gripping the handle tightly, there was yet another instance of hesitation before she finally worked up the courage and let the door slowly open. Before her... Was a glowing essence.

Her soul...

She didn’t trust it this time, looking around to see if there was yet another emotional or mental obstacle. There was nothing in sight... Which caused her to grow skeptical of this situation. This could easily be fake, a trap... But those thoughts washed away like dirt once she felt and heard the call. The weight of the atmosphere in the room had blocked it out. But now... Her tear stained eyes had no more tears left to give.

Kneeling down, she very slowly reached her hand out to the essence. She was... Able to feel it. It felt so familiar, more recognizable and familiar than anything she had pieced together in hell. The thing she could recognize the most...

Herself.

Within a moment of feeling her soul, the light wrapped around her arm, sinking into her body with an intense wave of energy that had felt very overwhelming internally.

Mich’s eyes widen at the realization. There was no weight... This felt so... Different but as if nothing changed all at once. She felt like herself. For the first time in three years, she felt like herself. She felt everything she lost, there was so much going on that she couldn’t explain or pinpoint or anything. It was just... Her.

She was back.

A genuine smile grew on her lips, a shaky exhale before that smile was wiped away quickly. The tears fell yet again, but these tears differed from all the rest she had shed in this realm. Relief... Relief, accomplishment, success, joy, victory... Her hands began to shake as the overwhelming energy really took over.

This joy only lasted for moments as she stood on her porch, as she now glanced around at her surroundings. Things were all too familiar, but even worse... What she saw was something she wished she was still unable to see.

They were visible.

Well...

“It’s time to leave.”

All the energy she had thought she lost pushed itself into her nerves as she dashed off her porch and began her run. She ran for her life as these discolored fleshy beasts, all different shapes and sizes and forms, chased after her in animalistic ways. Time felt like it ran in slow motion though this time... It really didn’t. She was running now, but this time she was running for the exit. Where it was? Well... That’s the hard part. However... Her soul gave another calling. Perhaps this was towards the end... And hopefully it was tracking what Carter had set up. She just prays it’s ready.

For now... She’s running like she’s NEVER run before.

#tw mauling #tw mutilation #tw time loop #[[Pull the Trigger]];; ic #[[gun powder]];; Mich #[[Trail of Smoke]];; Drabble

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asthmark · 4 years

Text

❝ lucky ❞, z.c

pairing → chenle, reader

genre → fluff, angst? a lil??

word count → 3.1k (woah!!)

summary → "you just deserve… so much more than that. do you realize how true that must be for a boy you just met today to see it?"

a/n → this is 1000% inspired by this pic that dropped yesterday like.....chenle looked so good it reminded me why i bias him!!!! anyway i kind of like this it has rich chenle and daddy issues thats all xoxo (also i did not proofread like at all so if theres any typos it was taeil's fault lol)

everyone in the room is utterly unbearable.

you understand it's rude to think so but you're sure that if you were to tell any of them this they would instantly agree with you. of course, you would never do that. because you're a ceo's daughter; you're not allowed to have an opinion that would make you look imprudent, rude or anything less of perfect.

so what do you do? you smile. you make small talk. you try your best to ignore your sore feet that are confined in your pumps and the way your dress rides up your butt. your lack of manners could not and would not be the reason your father missed out on any chance to make some more money. he made that very clear to you. after all, the only reason he dragged you along to all these house parties was so you could make make a stellar impression. he wanted all the businessmen in the room to remember mr. l/n and his charming young daughter when they got in their limousines and drove back home so that they'd remember when they discussed mergers and new projects.

you were never comfortable with the idea of your father essentially using you as some sort of accessory but you sometimes went days on end without seeing him so you took what time you could get. of course, helping him build his empire and boost his reputation wasn't your preferred daddy-daughter activity but you would never tell him that. it would just cause problems in your already rocky relationship and you certainly didn't need that.

"y/n." speak of the devil. "why don't you make conversation with the other guests? or better yet, come talk to these investors. i'm sure they'd love to meet you."

you know exactly what your father means by that so you try to find a reason to decline. anything would be better than watching him suck up to anyone with deep pockets and try to get you to do the same. "um." you repress a relieved sigh when you catch sight of yuna entering and handing her coat to a housekeeper. "actually i see my friend over there. i think i'll just go talk to her."

he frowns and you realize his face seems to be permanently stuck like that when he was around you. you can't remember the last time you'd seen an authentic smile from him. you suppose that was reserved for when he was trying to seal a deal.

"just behave yourself," he says. he leans into your ear. "remember, people are watching."

then he's gone, leaving you standing alone for a split second before yuna comes and takes his place.

"hey!" she draws out the word for dramatic effect.

"hi," you respond, your greeting lacking the enthusiasm hers held. she wasn't your favorite person but it was nice to talk to someone who wasn't observing your every move. it gave you a break from the ridiculous standards everyone else seemed to hold you to.

she brushes her bangs out of her eyes as she sized you up. "ooh, i love your heels! how much?"

"like 15 bucks." her jaw drops and you can't help but giggle. "yeah, i bought them at a thrift store. just don't tell my dad."

she grins. "wow, i always thought thrifting was for poor people but i just might have to check it out now."

that was the thing about yuna. she was stupid rich and she wouldn't have it any other way. she loved designer brands and houses so big you could get lost in them. you didn't blame her for any of that but it was the fact that she didn't mind the stuffy dinner parties and being shown off that was a little puzzling to you. unlike you, she had perfected her fake laugh and polite small talk long ago and sometimes you wondered if she really did care about all these companies and powerful men. but you know that as long as she gets to wear her thousand dollar dresses and go home to her cozy mansion, she'll be happy. she did what it took to keep her lavish lifestyle and was a little too materialistic for your liking and you guess that's where you and her are different.

you finally answer her. "yeah, definitely. it's a lot of fun."

her eyes light up. "we should go together one of these days!"

your silence is definitely too long but thankfully, yuna doesn't notice. her short attention span had caused her to focus on something else—more specifically, someone.

"oh my god," she says. "who is that?"

a boy who looks around your age has appeared, accompanied by a middle-aged man in a suit. the older man is more put together by far but you still can't help but stare at who you assume to be his son. he's wearing a black jacket on top of a striped shirt and you notice that chains hang from his neck. a belt holds up a pair of dark and tight pants. and, god, is he wearing converse?

you can't help but crack a smile at that. you envy his comfortable look; you would trade all the chanel and prada in the world just to wear a t-shirt and pair of sneakers and not have everyone in the room judge you for it. but his outfit isn't the only thing you admire. he must have crazy amounts of confidence to show up looking like he does when being surrounded by so many managers, executives, and company heads. you can only imagine what they're thinking and yet, the boy didn't seem to care or look uncomfortable in the slightest. in fact, he seems oddly at ease, his eyes scanning the room. at one point his eyes sweep over you and you lock eyes.

you watch as he brushes his bangs out of his face, almost like he's trying to get a better look at you. you only stare back, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. he offers you a half smile, his eyes squinting slightly and cheeks growing. you can't help but smile back, noticing just how the stranger's had an adorable baby face.

he looks away when he notices his father gravitating towards a group of businessmen and follows him. you almost wonder if he was in the same position as you were, if he was nothing but a poster child who was shown off at every event and party there was. then you notice how his father holds him tightly and smiles widely—genuinely—when he introduces him to others.

your father never did that. he wouldn't let you wear clothes like that either. you could only assume that this boy and his father were different from the rest of you. maybe they sat down and had dinner together everyday? talked to each other about their day? you almost throw the idea out of your head completely because it seems just too foreign to you.

"oh my god," yuna says. that seemed to be her favorite phrase. "i've never seen them before. what do you think they're doing here?"

you shrug. "maybe they're new to town?"

she hums. you both stay silent, observing the pair before yuna seems to grow impatient. "well i'm gonna go meet them. i can't handle being out of the loop. wanna come?"

you say agree. you feel obligated to. for the first time in forever you're actually interested in something at one of these dull parties, you're not going to stand around and just watch.

you approach the newcomers, both your fathers and a couple other businessmen conversing with them. you wonder if they've already asked them how much they're worth or if they had the decency to wait a minute before sticking their noses in their business. but, you knew how people like them operated; decency was way too much to ask.

"hi daddy!" yuna enters the conversation swiftly.

"hi, sweetheart," her father responds, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "this is my precious daughter, mr. zhong." he turns to yuna. "he and his son are visiting us all the way from our china branch. yuna, introduce yourself."

she doesn't need to be told twice. "hello, i'm yuna. i'm 17 years old and i'm studying at daewon preparatory. we're glad to have you here.it's a pleasure to meet you both."

mr. zhong smiles fondly at her. "the pleasure is all mine, young lady. what a beautiful daughter you have, mr. shin. she seems very capable."

yuna's father pulls her close to him, smiling at mr. zhong then her. "she sure is." you catch the subtle wink he throws her way, a silent 'good job' for that cute little introduction she did which was sure to score them some popularity points with the zhongs.

your father pulls you close to him and wraps an arm around your figure. both mr. zhong and mr. shin seem to be quite the fans of physical contact and although your father was not, you know that if that's what it took to make a good impression, he would become one, at least for the night.

"this is my daughter, mr. zhong." he turns to you and you take it as a cue to say something.

"hello, mr. zhong. i'm y/n." your introduction ends there and you feel your dad's grip on your arm tighten, indicating how unsatisfied he was with your brief answer.

you catch mr. zhong's son smile for the second time that night. although there is no mysterious eye contact this time, just a cute boy probably making fun of your lame introduction.

"well, how old are you, y/n?" mr. zhong asks, making conversation for you.

"i'm eighteen."

"oh, so is my son! isn't that right, chenle?"

his son—chenle—nods.

"well, i think we should leave the children to become acquainted. what do you think, gentlemen?"

everyone seems to agree. then, all that's left is the three of you.

to your surprise, chenle speaks first and it's a reintroduction. "i'm chenle."

you copy him. "i'm y/n."

"and i'm yuna. so, you're from china right?" she doesn't give him a chance to respond. "i read that there are over four million millionaires there. are you one of them?"

he furrows his brows and you can't help but sigh at yuna's question. she was fixed on the money aspect of things, as usual.

"i guess," he says, giving it little thought.

she practically squeals. "you're probably one of the youngest in the country! have you ever thought about that?"

"not really. i don't really like to think about money or these companies or big shot business dudes or any of that," he says, bluntly. "i mean, it would just make me feel more privileged than i already am. besides, it's all just a big headache. i'll leave it for the old man."

yuna's face falls and you hold in a laugh.

you finally chime in. "you know what, i have to agree. so much money can drive a person crazy. sometimes it even goes straight to their heads."

chenle can't hold back his amused snort. both him and yuna know exactly who you're referring to.

she wastes no time defending herself. "but, with reason y/n. to be fair, only 1% of millionaires are under 35 and here i am at 16."

you restrain yourself from scoffing. "well i'm sure the other 99% of the population doesn't get things handed to them on a silver platter by their daddy, yuna."

she stares you down, her huge, hazel eyes never leaving your e/c ones. "i think it'd be best if i excused myself. i'm going to go find my father, if you both don't mind."

"not at all," chenle mumbles as you both watch her stomp away.

you exhale loudly. "i knew i was gonna snap one of these days."

"well, if you didn't i would have," chenle responds.

"frankly, i don't regret a thing," you say, turning back to his smiling face.

"mm, and what if she tells daddy?" he inquires, folding his arms.

you playfully raise a brow. "i'll have you know, i'm one of the 1% of millionaires that are under 35, i think i have the advantage."

he giggles. "oh god, that was unbelievable. where did she even get those numbers from?"

"i have no idea but it was just… painful to watch. i'm gonna need a breath of fresh air after that."

he nods in agreement and you both walk towards the nearby balcony. you step outside, the breeze whipping your hair all over the place and leaving goosebumps on your skin.

"you know," he begins before silence can settle upon you two for too long. "i was really hoping there would be someone around my age here tonight. and i don't know if you usually come to these things or if you don't but either way, i am so glad you're here."

this comment reminds you of the way he had stared you down upon arriving and it makes your face feel a little warm despite the cool air of the night. "'cause i'm the only thing standing between you and a wonderful night with yuna."

"oh i'm sure it would've been real wonderful." he gives you a 'yeah right' look. "we couldn't even hang around each other for more than five minutes, i'm positive it would've been a long night."

you nod. "every night with her is. usually she's the only person i end up talking to at these things and let me just say, i think she's more money-hungry than all the men in there combined."

chenle whistles, lowly. "combined? that's dangerous."

"yeah, she takes after daddy," you mutter, picking at your nail polish that has begun to peel.

"what a relief you don't," he says. "or else i think i would have thrown myself off this balcony by now."

"well, you don't have to worry about that. you and i are on the same boat. money doesn't interest me all that much. definitely not to that extent."

"what does interest you?" chenle asks, turning his attention to you instead of the city lights in the distance.

you shrug. "i haven't figured it out yet. i'm too busy trying to be perfect. and i have a long way to go. just ask my dad, he seems to have really strong opinions on the matter."

"oh, i get it," he says. "you're so focused on being the perfect daughter that you haven't figured out what's going on in there." he wiggles his finger around your forehead.

"i just… want to make him happy. i want to see him smile because of me. even if 'me' is that daughter he expects me to be. i'm okay with being her. i'll take it."

chenle furrows his eyebrows and suddenly he doesn't seem to get it anymore. "you really... become an entirely different person? just for him? i mean, you seem like a good daughter. i don't understand that, y/n."

"and you won't understand, chenle," you respond. "because your dad loves you. he lets you wear your edgy clothes to business parties and doesn't worry about what everyone else is gonna think. he doesn't worry about first impressions, he doesn't force you to become someone else for strangers. he doesn't put any business deal above you. he doesn't chose his job over you, chenle and that's great. i'm so happy that's not the case with you. but it is for me. and when you know that the only time your dad is going to want anything to do with you is when you can help him make a quick buck or good impression, you resort to facades and doing anything you can to make him appreciate you. just a little."

chenle's arms envelop your shivering figure before you can say another word. his hands run up and down your arms and his chin rests atop your head. he inhales deeply, taking in your wonderful scent. he knows it's probably some off the wall expensive perfume.

"i'm so sorry, y/n," he mumbles into your coconut scented locks. "i'm sorry that you have to do that and that i won't ever be able to understand it. you just deserve… so much more than that. do you realize how true that must be for a boy you just met today to see it? and it breaks my heart that your own father doesn't because you really shouldn't have to suffer through that. he doesn't have his priorities straight but that shouldn't be an excuse for him to neglect his own daughter." he detaches from you so he can look directly into your glossy eyes, holding you at an arm's length away. "and he has no idea what he's missing out on, y/n. you're so headstrong, so humble and so much more than just a pretty face or someone's daughter. and if he can't treat you like the incredible individual you are then...." he exhales and you catch his breath blow in the air. "then please let me."

your bottom lip is quivering. you had never heard such nice words. and you don't have the slightest idea what he means by that last bit but you still nod and jump right back into his arms. because you have decided that's where you feel safest. where you can be yourself, freely and unapologetically.

"the second i walked in this place, i hated it," he mumbles and a laugh escapes your lips. "but then i saw you. and it got a little better. then i met you. and it got a lot better. we just met but i already can't seem to get enough of you, y/n." he chuckles as if he can't believe it himself. "you must be something really special. and i have the privilege of seeing that."

you move away from his chest and look up at him. your hands thread through his tufts of hair that match the darkness of the night sky. his hands stay planted firmly at his waist. you feel like he has no intention of letting go. you would be lying if you said you did either. and neither of you seem to have a problem with it.

"i can't wait for you to finally feel what it's like to be treated how you deserve. and i can't wait to be the guy to show you. i am so, so lucky."

you smile, your teeth on display. "i'm actually so glad i came tonight. that is definitely a first."

he laughs. "speaking of firsts..." he trails off, shyly.

you raise a brow, just to tease him a bit. "what are you getting at, mr. zhong?"

he knows you're joking yet his heart pounds as he leans in and asks for permission to kiss you. "may i, ms. l/n?"

"you may," you respond, meeting him halfway.

167 notes · View notes

humangods · 3 years

Note

Marlow/Severin: ▲

@kimsgoeun

▲ Five times my muse thought about kissing yours, and the one time they did

I. I HAVE TO SAVE YOU

Marlow brushes herself off after Severin once again drops her unceremoniously onto the ground. Severin lands a few meters away and brushes some hair out of their face then watch Marlow for a minute with their arms crossed against their chest.

“You know, I’m not going to save you every time you land yourself in danger.”

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Aren’t you an angel?” Marlow shoots back, nodding towards the halo above Severin’s head.

If she’d stopped there, if she hadn’t pointed out what they were, Severin would’ve shrugged it off. Instead they clenched their jaw and could feel the anger rising in their chest, their hands curled into fists. With a single flap of their wings, Severin lands before Marlow only a few inches apart.

“Don’t mistake what I am with what I’m supposed to do,” they snarl. “Humans have twisted the meaning of being an angel into something it isn’t -- something it never was.”

It’s only when they’re up close to Marlow that they realize she’s rather easy on the eyes. They stare for a second too long and Marlow notices with a wary expression.

“What?”

For the briefest moment, Severin wonders what it might be like to kiss her. Just out of sheer curiosity.

“Your kind are so fragile and misguided,” they scoff before taking to the sky and leaving Marlow standing there.

II. I WILL SAVE YOU

Severin finally begins to accept that maybe Marlow is more intriguing than they had thought. And maybe, just maybe, they're more drawn to her in a way they haven't felt towards someone in a long time. They know what this unfortunately is -- attraction -- but they don't like it. Severin only concedes after resisting the nagging feeling of wanting to be around Marlow more when for what must be at least the third time they find themselves taking in the sight of Marlow with an easy smirk while she is preoccupied going on a tirade about... Severin isn't certain, but they know it's a safe bet to assume it's something that's being blamed on them as their fault. In Marlow's defense there was at least a fifty percent chance that it is.

"Are you listening to me?"

Severin's attention snaps back to the present moment with a blink.

"Of course, Princess." They respond with a husky laugh.

Princess. It's a nickname Severn has assigned to Marlow at some point in time that they can't quite remember, but they know it irks Marlow and was enough of a reason for them to continue using it. Or so that was the case in the beginning, but now? There’s something more to the nickname that they can’t quite place. Something akin to endearment, perhaps, but they’d rather not consider that possibility too much.

Marlow rolls her eyes. “No you weren’t.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Severin echoes with a grin. “I was thinking.”

“About what?”

Severin’s smile only widens as she watches a frown crease Marlow’s brow. They don’t answer and it leads to Marlow crossing the room to stand directly before them. Severin holds her gaze, unflinching.

“Severin.” She draws out the name with a dangerous lilt.

They lean in, amused. Only a little, just enough to bring themselves closer in height, which they notice vexes Marlow even more from the irritation that flashes across her face. “Marlow.”

She huffs. “What were you thinking of that was so important that you completely ignored what I said?”

Severin leans in further. “None of your concern, Princess,” they whisper against Marlow’s ear. They very nearly turn their head to kiss her cheek, but Severin stops themselves and brushes past Marlow with a satisfied smirk.

III. I WANT TO SAVE YOU

They land on the rooftop with a dull thud of their feet hitting the concrete. Gusts of wind rush past tousling Severin’s short hair and ruffles the feathers of their wings. Wearing nothing more than a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, they shiver. It’s the highest building they could find in the city and they take in the view of the skyline with a weary sigh. The stars twinkle in the inky black sky and they scowl at the moon. The ring of light around it reminds Severin of a halo and it makes them recoil and turn their back to it. Lighting a cigarette they take a seat and lean against a vent. The cold metal is a shock to their skin, but Severin pays it no mind as they take a long drag and exhale a stream of smoke. They hunch over, one arm resting against their knee and holding the cigarette between two fingers while their other arm rests at their side.

They wonder what God is thinking of them -- if God is thinking of them at all. The thought angers them. Why should they care what They think after what They did to them? Severin grumbles and takes another drag.

The rooftop door opens and slams shut and someone approaches.

“Is this where you’ve been hiding?”

A familiar voice cuts through the rare moment of tranquility.

“I wasn’t hiding,” Severin answers without turning around.

Marlow waves some of the exhaled smoke away that blows in her direction from the wind.

“So what are you doing up here?”

Severin inhales deeply until the cigarette burns down to the butt. They grind it into the concrete then turn to face Marlow, finally.

“Nothing. I was bored.”

Marlow shoots them a skeptical look. “When you’re bored you cause mayhem. Or were you waiting for me to be in danger?”

“I needed a break, I’m old. Don’t you know not to bother your elders?”

She nearly barks out a laugh at Severin’s statement. It’s easy for them both to forget that Severin is an ancient being and not the age they appear to me. She also knows Severin can’t be serious.

Marlow opens her mouth to say more, but something catches her attention and says nothing. Her already noticed Severin’s wings were out, but she finally observes what she first dismissed as a trick of the night. They shouldn’t be this dark.

“Your wings-” she begins.

Severin interjects. “You’re cute in the moonlight.”

“Are they-”

They’re on their feet before Marlow can finish her question and brings their face to hers, but stops short right before they meet in a kiss. This causes Marlow to stop mid-sentence. Severin smiles, but it doesn’t reach their eyes. They know how the inquiry ends and they don’t want to hear it.

“What would you do if I kissed you?”

“Wh-what?” Marlow does her best not to show that she’s been caught off guard, but the slight stutter gives her away. Her eyes dart up to the space above Severin’s head. There’s no ring of light there, but she doesn’t get time to process what this means because Severin notices too and breaks Marlow’s train of thought.

“Just kidding!” Severin grins and sprints towards the ledge of the roof and leaps off.

“Hey! You can’t leave me up here!” Marlow shouts after them, whatever question she was going to ask now forgotten.

Severin makes loops around and lifts Marlow up into their arms. “Don’t worry, Princess, I’d never forget about you,” they reassure with a wink.

IV. I TRY TO SAVE YOU

The feeling happens again: a faint tug, like one magnet feeling the pull of another, but it’s weaker than it used to be. It’s like a light pull on a piece of string and no longer the aching feeling that it once was in their chest when they still had white wings. Severin ignores it, as they’ve gotten into the habit of doing, and instead returns to their task of cleaning a gun while taking occasional puffs on a cigarette that hangs loosely between her lips. The gun is more of a decorative thing than something they need, their own blood serves as just a good of a weapon if not better than something humans created when it can be molded into whatever they need. Preferably some kind of projectile. They don’t know if this is a gift from God or an ability that manifested on its own outside of Their control, but if it’s the former then Severin finds it an ironic gift that’s like a knife being twisted in their gut.

The invisible tug happens again, but a little stronger, interrupting their thoughts. It’s never as strong as it used to be, it means their connection is weakening. Maybe it’s an indication they’re being released from whatever involuntary bond they have to Marlow is fading. Severin used to long for this moment and always expected to feel relieved when it did, but instead they find themselves feeling uneasy. Dropping the cigarette into an ashtray they get up with a screech of the chair against the floor and holster the gun. They let out something between a groan and a sigh, raking their hands through their hair, as they ready themselves. At least whatever it is that awaits them wherever it is they may go there will be some action, or so they hope. A fight is always a perfect way to burn off stress and it serves as a decent enough distraction from their own thoughts.

Severin weaves between the tall buildings using the invisible tugging as a compass to guide them to where Marlow surely is. They ready themselves for a fight when they spot her, but she’s alone. Maybe it’s nothing as serious as they expected, but the tugging feeling thrums in their chest like the beating of a hummingbird’s wings.

“Incoming!” Severin calls out in warning a second before they swoop down and lift Marlow up.

“Ow, something’s digging into my back,” Marlow complains as she holds onto Severin.

A mischievous smile stretches across Severin’s lips. “Maybe I’m just excited to see you.”

“That doesn’t work when you’re not standing,” she points out with a roll of her eyes. “But seriously, what is it?”

“You should be more careful. I may not always be able to save you every time.” They smirk to cushion the seriousness of their words.

Marlow looks up at Severin with a quizzical expression. “What do you mean? You always rush in. At the last second, but you still do.”

They give a noncommittal sound. “Never mind, don’t worry your pretty little head over it, Princess.”

“Worry about what?”

Severin lands in a secluded area of a park behind some trees and Marlow’s question goes unanswered. It’s a trend she surely notices every time Severin doesn’t want to talk about something.

“I’ll file them down, but I thought they looked kind of neat.”

They hold up a hand for Marlow to see, already changing the subject before Marlow has a chance to press for more details about what they’d meant. Small talons grow out where their usual short fingernails had once been and the skin is a jet black that fades into their own skin color at the base of each finger.

Marlow raises her brow. “What the- What’s happening to you?”

The lazy smile leaves Severin’s features and her brow knits into a frown. An uncommon expression for them, and they can see Marlow tense ever so slightly at the chance in their demeanor. This time they don’t try to immediately deflect or, quite literally, run away.

“I think you already know. You knew from the moment you saw me on the rooftop that night.”

“You’re not… An angel anymore?”

“It doesn’t matter, okay? I’m still here for now to bail you out,” they add in a mock-purr in an attempt to change the mood of the conversation. “Like right now, for instance. You know, though, I think I should get something for saving you all the time.”

Marlow heaves an annoyed sigh and grumbles, “And what do you want?”

Severin leans in with a wicked smile then puckers her lips.

Marlow holds up her hand and pushes Severin away from her. “You’re incorrigible.”

They laugh as they step away from her. “Worth a shot!”

“You weren’t even being serious,” Marlow counters. “And you never answered my questions.”

Severin only winks back in response as they turn to go now that the pull in their chest they were feeling earlier has since disappeared.

“You can find your own way to wherever you were going, right?” They call over their shoulder, already turning to leave.

But Severin doesn’t wait for an answer before taking off.

V. I DON’T KNOW HOW TO SAVE YOU

Gripping their head, Severin doubles over in pain. It’s the worst headache they’ve ever felt and truly the epitome of “skull-splitting”. What they didn’t expect was that indeed their skull was changing. Two horns curve out of from the sides of Severin’s head. It looks like a halo -- almost -- except broken off causing the two ends of the horns to taper off into points.

The timing is inconvenient to say the least, but it also serves as a distraction to the gunmen they were in the midst of fighting. Purely for entertainment reasons as is most often the case.

Severin sinks to their knees with a groan. The pain in their head continues to pulsate and there’s a sheen of sweat on their forehead, but there’s no time to rest. The gunmen take take this as an opportunity to move in for the attack.

Raising their gun, Severin pulls the trigger. Nothing happens but a feeble click. Already furious with their transformation and all the fun from the situation prior having dissipated, they hurl the empty gun at one of the gunmen charging at them. It hits her square in the forehead and causes her to stagger back several steps as she lets out a slew of curses.

There’s still the rest to deal with, however. Severin does what they do best and, using the claws protruding from their fingers, they run the sharp ends down their arm. Even now it’s not any less painful than it used to be. Blood seeps out, but it doesn’t hit the ground. It stops just before that moment and hovers, suspended in the air, as Severin begins to bend and shape it to their will and let it rain down on the gunmen as piercing javelins. It’s a morbid power, one that they enjoy using to watch the horror etched onto her opponents’ faces yet also one they take care in not using often around Marlow. They don’t need Marlow to see them as some kind of freak show, not that they’re too concerned about it. Not completely. But it is still a rather gruesome ability and does cause more of a mess than they’re certain Marlow would prefer to deal with.

They aren’t certain whether it’s because she crossed their mind or if it’s whatever inexplicable bond they share, but there’s a feeling of anxiety that starts to nag at the back of their head. Severin decides it’s nothing and shifts their attention to the fight once more. The people drop one after the other and there’s nothing more for Severin to do. They never did bother to clean up the carnage left behind and they aren’t about to start now. Taking a few slow steps forward, glass crunches beneath their shoes. They pause when they find a big enough shard and pick it up.

Staring at their reflection Severin grimaces. They knew this was going to happen, dared it to happen, and yet also hate that it has. They grip the glass a little too tightly and it cuts into their palm as they let out a sharp hiss. It shatters when Severin hurls it to the ground and spins on their heel to leave, the flesh on their hand already slowly stitching itself together.

Despite the fight being over, the anxiety remains. They don’t know what it means as they’ve never been one to feel anxious over much, certainly not where Marlow is concerned, but even as they fly out away from the bloody scene they can’t shake the feeling that something is maybe wrong. They don’t know where Marlow is and there’s no internal compass to guide them to her like there used to be. The more they try and focus on the anxiety the less sure Severin becomes in where to search for her. They let out an aggravated shout that is lost on the wind as they soar through the sky. They feel panic -- or something similar -- rise. They aren’t quite sure what the unpleasant feeling is that makes their throat constrict and breathing feel like a chore. I’d kill for a smoke, they think.

Flying aimlessly isn’t going to get them to wherever Marlow is, that much they know, so they land in the middle of the sidewalk much to the irritation of other pedestrians who trip and stumble out of their way trying not to knock into one of their black wings. Some stare at the horns, but only for a split second as a deadly glare from Severin makes them scurry off again. Severin lights a cigarette and stomps down the sidewalk with people steering clear of them.

“Where the fuck are you?” They growl, fingers raking through and tugging at the short hair.

They come to a stop at an intersection and close their eyes. Scrubbing their face with their hands they wrack their brain, but it’s only when they take a deep breath that a place comes to mind. Severin isn’t sure why or how, maybe intuition, but it doesn’t matter. They squash the cigarette butt under their shoe and take to the sky once more, but with more haste.

Soon they find Marlow and she’s indeed in danger. There’s a gun pointed at her and she stands rigid on the spot. Once more Severin winces and uses their talons to force themselves to bleed. Once more a crimson javelin whizzes down and pierces its target milliseconds before the gun is fired with a bang. The shot goes wide and Severin lets out a silent breath of relief.

“You’re welcome, Princess” They call out as they land beside her with a nonchalant grin and arm already in the process of healing.

Marlow doesn’t make a witty comeback, she’s too busy staring at Severin.

They see the corner of her mouth twitch, like she’s about to speak, and Severin brings her lips to Marlow’s. Nearly.

“Don’t,” they breathe out, and anything Marlow was going to say is swallowed down.

Severin stays there considering the possibilities of should they or should they not. They’ve never kissed her, but they’ve come close to it and even more frequently as of late. It’s always proven to be a good tactic to make Marlow stop short of whatever she’s about to do, but Severin knows that part of them wants to. It’s no longer innocent curiosity, but that’s also reason enough to make Severin replace the distance between them both.

V. I CAN’T SAVE YOU

Severin never bothers to dig up too many details about Marlow’s father’s business as it’s never been something they cared much about. What they do care about is successfully getting on Marlow’s nerves at least a few times a day. They do love the way Marlow’s nose crinkles when she frowns at them and how her eyes always follow them in a room full of people. Although Marlow’s safety does also come to be of importance to them as well. It wasn’t always the case, but Severin finds their thoughts filled with Marlow more as well. It’s always little, mundane things too like what is she doing in that moment, but sometimes Severin wonders if she’s growing weary of their presence too. If that’s the case Marlow hasn’t explicitly stated such. It’s strange, Severin thinks, because they had always only thought of themselves first and foremost. Everything they did was for their own gain or amusement without a thought with regards to anyone else their actions may affect.

They tilt their head back to rest against the coolness of the wall and stare skyward, inhaling on the cigarette between their fingers to try and take the edge off of the tension they feel. Rooftops seem to be where they spend a lot of their time as of late. They like the height and the quiet from the bustling streets below. It also reminds them of being in Heaven, but their placid expression changes into a scowl at that.

“Fuck that place,” they growl out and close their eyes, pressing their plans to the roughness of the concrete like the tension in their body would be absorbed by it. It isn’t, and the feeling only grows.

They press their palms against the rough surface of the concrete to try to think of other things, but their shoulders remain hunched and a deep inhale does nothing for their nerves.

There’s a vibration in their pocket and at first Severin pays it no mind, but it happens again and then again. With a grumble, they reach for their phone only to stop and realize their hands are still smeared with blood. Wiping them as best as Severin can against their pants, they fish their phone out of their pocket. Two missed calls and several text messages from Marlow. Was this the cause of the tension? They aren’t sure.

“Shit,” they curse under their breath as they scan the messages.

Finding a location mentioned, Severin gets to their feet and takes a final drag on the cigarette then drops it where they were sitting. Spreading black wings, they jump off the roof and weave between buildings. Soon the congested city recedes into the background and a more bleak landscape stretches before them. It’s not wholly rural, but not entirely urban either. Right on the outskirts of the city where forgotten buildings are left to decay.

Smashing through one of the windows on the roof, Severin lands and uses their wings to shield themselves from the rest of the glass raining down. They take advantage of the surprise on everyone’s faces make a quick mental note of their surroundings. There are only a few of… They aren’t sure who the suited up people are, but they know they aren’t good. Marlow sits bound and gagged to a chair and sporting a few bruises and cuts. Severin’s blood goes cold and they turn back towards their company, rage fill them. The rest of their demonic form manifests: jet black staining their skin up from fingers and fade as it reaches their shoulders, and their horns protrude from their head.

“You screwed with the wrong person..!” Severin shouts and charges at them, unloading every bullet in their gun blindly until there’s nothing left.

Bullets rip their skin as they zip by, but it works in their favor. Beads of blood morph into small bullets and tear into Severin’s opponents while they shred other with their claws. It isn’t long before Severin stands, chest heaving from heavy breaths, with bodies littered around them.

“Ah, fuck,” they mutter and pull out the pack of cigarettes in their pocket.

The package is empty and Severin crushes it in their hand and chucks it over their shoulder as they saunter back to where Marlow is. They cut through the rope with a clawed finger and straighten up, repressing their demonic appearance and leaving only their wings.

“What were you thinking coming here alone?” Severin chides.

Marlow gives them a pointed look as she peels off the duct tape. “I’m okay, thanks for asking.”

They scoff, but still give her a quick once over to make sure that she isn’t seriously injured or at least doesn’t appear to be.

“Stop throwing yourself into danger you can’t get out of, Princess” Severin glares back.

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I just… I can’t, okay? Stop asking questions, and let’s go.”

Severin takes a step forward to pick Marlow up, but she steps back.

“You don’t get to avoid talking about things whenever you want.” Marlow’s voice rises in frustration.

An irked hiss escapes them and they fold their arms tightly against their chest. “Fine, Princess,. One question and then we go.”

“What do you mean you can’t save me? You did all those other times.”

“Because all those other times,” Severin starts, already allowing their annoyance and anger with themselves get the better of them causing their voice to rise as well. “I could feel when you were in trouble. And I could follow that feeling to wherever you were, but now I can’t, okay? Whatever it was that told me when you were in danger is gone, okay? Maybe I feel a little on edge when you are, but I can’t really tell. It’s better to assume that I can’t. You already got hurt because I didn’t know you were in danger in the first place, and if I’d showed up any later? Look, just stop taking unnecessary risks.” Severin loses steam as they go on and finish with a huff.

Marlow is stunned into silence for a minute. Their mouth begins to form the start of a sentence, but then she stops. It twists into a frown until she settles with a response.

“Isn’t that what you wanted? Didn’t you say you didn’t like having to bail me out all the time?”

A new wave of anger crashes over Severin and they can feel their blood boil.

“I never asked to be this!” They stretch out their black wings briefly to emphasize their point. “I- Sure, I didn’t like being an angel, and I know this was going to happen eventually, but…” But it meant they still had a chance to return to Heaven if they ever changed their mind and wished to try and redeem themselves. Now that chance was gone forever and whether they felt like they belonged on Earth or not no longer mattered. They were stuck there regardless. “Everything I did, Marlow, I did it for you!”

They’re shouting, but Marlow stands her ground. Severin isn’t sure if it’s a trick of the dim lighting or if they really did see her flinch a little.

“Because you had to,” she presses in a flat tone, but Severin can see it’s a facade from the uncertainty from their words in her eyes.

“Are you blind or stupid?! Because I wanted to, Marlow,” Severin corrects.

Marlow is about to open her mouth to make some further retort, but Severin reaches out and grabs a fistful of her shirt collar and yanks her closer. Their lips crash together and Marlow’s eyes widen.

“Severin-” She starts, but Severin is already turning away from her, and with a few strong flaps of their wings they fly out of the ruined building.

They know they’ll have to return to that conversation in the not-so-distant future, but for now they’d rather be anywhere but there with Marlow. Not until they’ve figured out how to put whatever it is they’re feeling into words and then be able to explain it all to her.

#otp: requiem for the righteous #this was meant to be more lighthearted but then old habits got the best of me and here we are #and in this we learn severin is an absolute coward when it comes to feelings :|

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