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The White Dove Pt 45 - We Know the Easter Bunny

@devilishminx328. @theincaprincess, @lilith15000, @jesevans, @jiminapickle

The White Dove Masterlist

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Back in the same driveway the hive in NY calmed as your chunk linked up again to it and clarified you had been gone all of two seconds, and up at you the same Flerken sat with a smile on its face up at the pair of you clung tight to one another.

“The others,” the Ancient One spoke causing Venom to angle himself to face the Sorcerer on your left, subtly loosening his grip on you as she continued. “We have apprehended twelve Flerken Kree had abandoned upon Earth centuries prior. Who were able to transport themselves into other dimensions and were able to be captured and used to send more of the same sect Hitler had created for himself that was destroyed within this realm to our past.”

“What happened? After?”

“Well,” she said mid exhale to say plainly, “Most of the event has been buried as the same Troubles this history had recorded. There were some staggering terms within the act of freedom for Ireland and Scotland however.”

Eddie whose head eased out asked, “They both got independence?”

“Oh yes,” she said with a breathy chuckle, “They were quite in awe of your efforts and the Irish who aided in their freedom. Now I should say people have recorded the truth, while the Palace and world has tried to bury it was Nazi clones who took over the British Isles. Prince Philip was demanded to be divorced and disgraced for insulting the Queen, the public rallied quite inspiringly around her for the process, having been unfaithful so publicly for so long.

Of course Prince Charles chose to go with his father, it was discovered that his mistress Camilla had vanished from her assigned room as were his other mistresses. Over this new history it is recorded that due to the loss of her he refused to ever marry and had to be removed from succession after impregnating two young women he took comfort in. The Queen is quite enamored of her bastard grandsons Edwin and Charles.”

“I’m, you said she vanished? They vanished?”

“Well, much like you my people have been warned of tampering in matters of the Hive.”

“Oh, somebody ate them.” You said with brows inched up a bit at that realization.

“I think Venom might have passed on a bit about the family,” Eddie said.

Out of his neck Venom oozed to hiss, “Sister said it best, such actions are disgraceful upon the honor of ones family.”

“So, Princess Anne,” you said.

“Is next in line, yes, and still quite the fan of yours. Speaks about you fondly for all of your endeavors. Even has been quoted in the press to have been forwarding the notion of contacting you for use of your cleaner private crafts for use.” She said, “This was foretold and you have done admirably once again.”

“Can everybody but me read what’s foretold about me?!” you muttered to yourself making her chuckle to herself.

Eddie smirked asking, “I’m afraid to ask if there’s any sort of statue involved of the attacks?”

“Of a sheep in a sea of fireflies.” She said with a nod, “In fact both Ireland and Scotland honor the anniversary with a ceremony of choosing a sheep that is King for the week. For the five days the battle lasted. They now hold elections for their leaders who proudly claim allegiance to the chosen King during the festivities and the wool from the King is kept to turn into tapestries to mark the year. And you were the catalyst that brought Mrs Carter to find her brother all along, Howard as well took your tip on the lights and made special efforts to monitor his properties for effects on wildlife. No major effects but other companies had followed suit for minor changes to permit regulations in various states.”

Out of her pocket she offered you the camera that captured your belongings and a notepad used to copy notes from the men who woke up a day post escape that you accepted. “Only Chickadee was noted again, these are the traces we could find beyond word of mouth kept quiet by those who did remember we have made to forget.”

“Thank you,” you said and she summoned a portal.

“I shall leave you to your vacation.”

Alone again Eddie picked up the keys he had dropped off the driveway and brought out the car key to get your bags to head inside. Boots were left at the door and with socked feet you both made for the open sunlit Jack and Jill bath to take turns showering feeding into a guest bedroom. Wrapped inside a towel you opened the door to let Eddie in, having been reading over the notes he set aside to walk in, close the door and as you closed the other door he stripped to get in the hot shower he greatly appreciated.

New tights and lighter jeans were added same as a tank top and warm wool sweater. Fresh clean layers were welcoming for once your hair was dried to allow a tour of the spacious place. The laundry room was first and made use of to wash your things. Coats and your bag would take extra work, possibly having to be replaced if they couldn’t be fixed forcing you both to bring out your spare coats and your rainbow faux fox fur purse you loaded with your things from the leather bag.

Two spacious bedrooms upstairs side by side you chose to leave your bags in so you could head back down to clean up your boots again to head back out to the beetle. A stop for gas enabled a trip inside to find a wooden cubby of pamphlets on attractions nearby that you both chose from and paid for a few snacks you could eat on the way to the park. Clean and a bit less hungry after the exhausting five day ordeal to the park Eddie drove following directions from your bees while you used another couple to map the locations you had chosen to narrow down the possibilities.

“What if Doom’s taking us was what the Hive had planned?” you asked and he shook his head.

“No, they are working hard at something I can hear it.”

You nodded and asked, “Was it just me or was he like a giant bunny?”

Eddie chuckled and Venom spoke, “Doom has bonded with one the mortals call Easter Bunny.”

“Okay…” you said and Venom chuckled to Eddie’s chortle.

“Like myself they have found peace and one to bond with his Other is quite fond of. Are you overly tired Sister?”

“Not really. Oddly enough, I do think I have an idea what the core of my transport rings are though.”

“So not all terrible of a trip.” He said smiling your way making you chuckle to yourself. A buzz from your phone you turned on had him ask, “Word from Thengel yet?”

“He’ll be in at two, said he’ll drive to meet us at the house.”

“Ooh, nice, we can shop after the park and make him a nice meal, take him to the park tomorrow or some fun stuff on our other stops.”

“Should be nice,” you said then sighed making him look your way, “Does this mean I can say I know the Easter Bunny?” He and Venom chuckled at the clear try to come to terms of being another weapon to be used to change the flow of a power struggle.

“I think so. And I suppose that trip is why Carter kept bringing up Boggs checking in on you.” He said making you grin.

“This Dino Dig camp pamphlet says it’s open but the website says it’s a warm weather one, so we can give the Imax a try at the museum?” you asked making him nod.

“Absolutely.”

“Viscountess, how do you respond to the question of what else Misique and you have found at the bottom of the ocean?” A French sounding young man asked in English, having come up to your side while you had just entered the park and were deciding on a pathway to cover the stops inside he park. Clearly a teenage news site the crowd of five teens out on weekend found one who had a t shirt with their shirt logo who asked the question while you were filmed by a go pro held by another.

“Um, well we haven’t found much so far that hasn’t been shared about. There is a good deal to travel still and plenty to be uncovered in time.”

“And it’s true the Lourve will display a statue of King Phillip of Spain discovered by you both?”

“Yes,”

“And can you share on the profits of the deal?”

“Those are going to go for patient expenses for my parents’ research foundation. Once the studies are finalized a good deal of people will be interested in the treatments and that can get costly.”

“You heard it here first, Spanish Inquisition is now being aimed to fundraise for combating degenerative diseases. Catch you soon fellow swashbucklers and we wish you smooth sailing till we meet again.” Thanks from the group came as they broke into a quick huddle then darted off to go do something or possibly find their ride to head home with their scoop another was hyping up online.

“That was nice,” Eddie said looping an arm around your back naming a choice to try one of the closer eateries to get some more fuel for the rest of the fun explorations of the park. A few fun pictures were captured to post online to prove you were having fun on a weekend away to not think about things. A few comments did come of your being crazy to go when it was so cold though.

Several stops and a couple souvenirs later right for a supermarket you went to load up a cart and back to the rental you went to unload it all and get used to where things were in putting the things away for the next breakfast and possible dinner the following night before your red eye flight back.

“Okay, I think, that is how it’s supposed to look?” you asked eyeing the scalding hot meat pies still inside the metal tins as they cooled down dripping a bit of meat juice onto the pan you left them on.

The sound of an engine shutting off outside had Eddie turn from readying the table to go and check the door to welcome Thengel and show him inside as you finished checking on the veggie dishes both boiling and in the oven almost ready. Bread was next to be fidgeted over to spread onto a serving tray of both rolls and thick buttered slices painted with some garlic spread to add some flavor to compliment the dishes.

“There you are,” Thengel said having left his bag in the front hall and came closer to give you a hug, “My magical girl. Feeling alright?” he asked pulling back and you nodded.

“Yes, bit uncertain on my meat pies, but it’s been a fun morning. Your flight go well?”

“Oh yes,” he said eyeing Eddie in his move to keep finishing off the table. “Glad to be out here with you however, the convention showed little difference to the year prior.” As you moved to test the boiling veggies he asked, “You haven’t been bothered again, have you?”

“No, no sign of the Jenner woman so far,” off the burner you lifted the pot and he gladly took hold of the strainer to hold over the sink you moved to. While he shook it a bit to drain the mixture he asked, “You did bring some of your weapons or armor just in case?” Up at him you looked and he said, “I’ve seen videos of what Misique can do, barriers and all that, but sometimes there is little time for a barrier.”

“I never go anywhere unarmed.” You said luring a content grin across his face.

“Good. Both of your parents would be proud of how strong you have grown. All they used to boast about were the impossible flowers and creatures you created for them.” As you accepted the strainer he rested a hand on your shoulder, “Sigyn shared often of the joy your flowers brought her.” He said and you stepped away to pour the veggies into their large bowl to be coated in the sauce you had made for them. After a chuckle he said, “I remember the last picture I got of the three of you, you had frosting on your nose and were licking it off while they made faces about their own mess from frosting on their faces.”

“I have a copy. Papa left a digital hidden copy of our albums.”

His head tilted slightly and he asked, “You don’t think of recreating the image now you are older we could crop together with theirs?” Up at him you looked, freezing in place luring him closer. “What did I say?”

“I, can’t.”

“The Ambassador did share with me what you have faced, what you were willing to share in court. I know this is painful, I have days the loss is unfathomable.”

“They branded me when they took me,” you said parting his lips and he moved in as you opened your mouth to lift your tongue up to reach your nose. Vegvisir and the Valkyrie wing symbol inside the nine star points to form a large star had him look from it to you signaling your retraction of your tongue. “It hasn’t faded, and,” you drew in a breath and said, “Eddie was chaperoning a trip to the Academic Decathlon to Washington DC, and my tongue started prickling, then glowing.” His brow ticked up, “Next day we were in a museum that the Disir and some humans entranced by them attacked it.”

“I heard about that. The day of the blip.”

“There were children of exiled Beserkers there, nobody else could see the glow, but they warned their parents. They said the Goddess Frigg sent it as a warning danger was coming.” That had him move closer with teary eyes. “She’s the Queen of the Valkyrie, they said any other time she would have had the marks fade. Must have been watching over me. Part of why they have been so helpful with my ship I think.”

“Have they been assisting you with your sail?”

“No, I have been weaving it myself. I have to incorporate the Asgardian metal threads to help with its structure on top of the natural layers. They sent me double the original order.” You said moving to keep finishing off the sides Eddie helped to transfer to the table. “Not the same amount again, but double. At least then I might have plenty to make some test swatches for wind and water treatments before I treat the main sail.”

“Wine?” Eddie asked showing a fruity one, “It’s a blackberry flavor, Pluto saw it and it smells really good.”

“Sure,” he said and looked to you as Eddie opened the wine bottle to pour two glasses to go with your glass of juice. “Do you drink wine?”

“My metabolism runs so fast I can’t get drunk. I do like to sip the fruity wines Eddie tries occasionally, not a big fan of how most wine tastes. Most have seemed to smell better than they taste, except for some hard lemonade drinks I’ve tried before.”

“You can try mine if you wish. I saw you had that wine tasting is why I asked.”

“Eddie’s friend was contemplating culinary school, the tasting was a side thing added onto the class. I only smelled them. I suppose in the past the nutritional benefits of drinking wine so often outweighed the taste of the fermentation process. Then again I have a more sensitive palate than others.”

“Can I ask what your issues with the sail tests might be?” he asked as you all chose your helpings of the offered dishes.

“How I have to weave the metal in it might make it weaker in certain spots, so when I do try to coat it with the resin the coating how I do it might take a few different tries to get it right.”

“Have you waterproofed sails before?”

“No, and the only places I’ve found with resin in the quantity I would need don’t sell outside of companies.”

“I will send supplies when you are ready, pay no mind to those troubles. Are these other Asgardians where you gain most of your knowledge on the ship repairs?”

“No, Yggdrasil helps too.” You said making his brows arch up, “I can hear the roots, they’re all over the planet. It helped me, spoke to me while I was being kept away. Every now and again in my dreams it shows me things, tools, even parts of things and lets me figure it out. Some take a while, like a project I’ve been working on, a set of transporter rings that can be used to help the agricultural business of transporting trees and other large plants.”

“That sounds fantastic.” Digging into the meal a late open stop on your list had you three decided on heading out there after you had cleaned up to be followed by a film back here before bed.

He didn’t see the need to force you both back to the same park and agreed to head to the museum and the second stop you wanted to fit in between meals before you all had to head back to the airport. Just any time possible to spend with you and even Eddie was prized by him to deepen your bond. One he never pressed to enforce time without Eddie until you felt ready to suggest it yourself. He had been gone from your life so long and would accept the slow pace to be as supportive of your future choices as you were on the cusp of adulthood now. And for now talk of your ship was the easiest link as he had a ship building company and you were in the final stages of completing the sail for it.

He knew just how magical you were, and worried for so long if you had been taken and kept alive if you would blame yourself for the attack on your parents. Something he never wanted, for you to hold that guilt while moving forward. That was something he was gradually working up to speaking about.

Years you had done nothing but build on the pride he knew he would have for what you could achieve. He wished you had contacted him first before Sigurd, but now that you had he would do all he could to make this familial bond as warm and welcoming as possible. Including his sharing plans to rent a place in Norway for the two week long Yule celebration so you three could have a comfortable stay during the break in the year he absolutely refused to work at all to enforce as much time as possible to share with you. This for now was a lovely way to honor your mother together until you could see each other one again.

…

Pluto. The name across the front of a letter Howard for once had managed to tuck into your bag alongside your stained set of cards from the ammo bag you found he had written notes to you with advice like a father figure for the next Howard Stark he learned the hard way. His plea was simple and holding a second sealed envelope he intended to be for his eldest child.

Warmly dressed with his letter sealed inside a larger one you addressed to Tony Stark out into the night you walked to Eddie’s place to borrow the VW bus used on your summer trips. Outside Stark Tower you parked to hop out and drop the letter inside the night drop box to be scanned in the morning, then trotted back to the bus to fire it back up and start the drive up to the Hamptons that would take up most of the night to get there and back in time for school.

*.*.*

Soft and gentle light trickled into the bedroom Peggy Carter awakened in. An alarm, one of many to wake on schedule to ease her daily dilemma. Shadows from the garden outside of her spacious suite inside the Hamptons mansion Howard had chosen to grant use of for the Carter family as his beloved Aunt Peggy had met her retirement years and the Jarvis clan had dwindled to just names on pages and faces in pictures carried by the children of their adopted daughter Celeste. Calls to her children answered her curiosity and with a soft gasp she held a letter that had been tied to the center of a peach tree that was surrounded by seas of her favorite flowers she was no longer able to keep tended to as dementia had set in.

‘Hello Peggy,

I have always held a fondness for you and always will. No matter our shadows we hold firm, I hope one day to be half the poignant figure for others as you have been for me. Between the two of us locked in a crisis, I would very much be more relieved to see you there to save the day. We will meet again in this life or the next I hope.

Not such a fuddy duddy after all,

Not Chickadee.’

“Oh,” she said sentimentally at the colored picture a bee had taken of you driving with her and Howard speaking in the back while Venom rested in the passenger seat.

Under that was one of you four cooking in the kitchen, her cross armed with brow raised being ignored on tips for cooking while Howard leaned against the counter waiting on his drink Venom was mixing as Carter spoke to you with hold of his own plate smirking down at your bloody self. Upon the back of which was the recipe for her sauce you had written down luring a misty eyed smile onto her face.

Another in front of the telling grand room with the leader of the Irish of candid talks with the girl found inside the wall.

The next making her chuckle of her brow raised picture of you and Venom making faces at one another, him on the roof and you in the frame of the window holding your rifle, which was cropped out, having cleared another city.

The last being Peggy asleep on the back seat and you seated on the floor of the back of the jeep, head against the seat trying to hide from the rising sun more bloody than the other images with a hint of a frightened expression on your face from a bad dream. The very edge of the frame showing Howard with your polaroid camera capturing the moment himself with his face in it.

“Oh, what was her name?” she asked herself, not having slipped out of her window of focus but distantly recalling a celestial name she drew closer to by the minute.

Search of the grounds on a morning walk for her niece had a message added to the one prior that a second letter was found on Howard Stark’s grave that was located on the property. A secret true location of his remains while a public one sat to allow strangers to visit and pay respects without troubling his family, right beside his wife’s was the section for the Jarvis family. Behind Howard’s headstone was a large peach tree inside of a sea of bluebells that coated the inventor’s grave while daisies out of respect were for his loved ones around him you did not know.

‘Thank you Howard.’

All the note read, no perimeter alarm had been triggered with no footage of who had come to do this, just the glow of seeds and pits appearing out of thin air to grow the new gardens. Copies were made while Peggy would nap so she could have a spare set as the originals were given to Nick Fury to inspect with handheld devices unable to find traces beyond familiar hand writing.

*.*.*

Slack jawed Tony sat looking at the polaroid image of his father’s face beneath two sleeping women in the back of a cramped ammo and weapon filled jeep. “Jarvis, test this,” was all he could say about the envelope with the name Stark across the front of it.

Mechanical arms took the envelope that within minutes came back with saliva matching Howard Stark’s sample linked to Tony’s. Infrared scans showed fingerprints to prove the same and teary eyed he opened the four page letter that had his heart start to thunder making him glad he’d brought it down to his private lab where he could be alone.

‘Winter, 1963. Not exactly certain of the date we’ve been on the road for three days now. I finally found a moment to write some things down between these damn Nazi infested towns.

What I know’ underlined and with a semicolon to list off some things.

‘Something called a Flerken brought, not Chickadee, and the weirdest cannibal named Venom to help.

A, Doom, sent the Flerken to fetch them. Maybe another cannibal?

Looks like her, isn’t her, no powers with all the sass and grit.

Answer to Chickadee’s grudge against Cap - Rogers has almost killed this girl four times. Something about dropping a balcony on her for one. Last time with a bomb. Has yet to apologize.

Chickadee is her other dimensional self, no idea why we got this girl, but she’ll do.

This girl knows Caretaker too.’ Added in hastily beside that at an angle was, ‘More flaming skull friends and cannibals too.’

After that was a border of a line to start the rest of his letter. ‘My kid, kids. Twice now I’ve ran into Chickadee, I’m sure if I’m still alive I’ve told you about her till your ears want to bleed, if not, she tends to vanish in thin air. This time in the middle of praying for a miracle out of the sky in a rain of glass on the back end of a blast of wind I saw this mint haired girl who looked a whole hell of a lot like my mysterious friend. She’s got no powers but she’s got a whole hell of a lot of gizmos that pack a powerful punch.

Shared she didn’t know much about why she was taken but does know who she looks like. Didn’t share much else that seemed helpful besides Stark Industries is still standing and I have family at the helm of it.’ Sharply Tony sniffled wiping his cheek at just seeing his father’s writing again with ink and dna tests proving it was taken barely days ago by the deterioration rate. ‘Whoever you are, however many you are. If I’m there, if I’m not. I love you, and I’m proud of you, either way I’m watching over you in spirit or looming over your shoulder/s to never let you forget either of those facts.

I never much imagined myself a dad. Didn’t have the most present model and with my work and attention span I probably am not the best either. I don’t know what the future is like, or your life is for that matter. All the same, please find this kid. Puts on a great front, but she’s been got such a weariness to her, like a soul whose been near to death far too many times. Please let her know you’re proud of her. Sure she’s got cannibals and flaming skeletons as friends, she deserves so much more. The kid is wild about nature and animals, smiles like no other when it breaks out, like she’s never seen a pinch of sadness a day in her life.

Why Capsicle keeps trying to kill her I got no clue, she doesn’t seem to either. Set him straight please. Make him apologize. If she’s anything like Chickadee she’ll be gone before I can seal this letter off. And someone named Banner took her flannel and hasn’t given it back like he promised. I might be blind to the future, but from what I’ve been shown through her actions and resolve, you must be shaping it into something phenomenal. Again, I love you, and I always will.’ Close eyed Tony had to turn his head to wipe his hands over his face taking a break to calm down just as his lips had begun to quiver. Three pages after that of all he hoped to share one day to his possible sons and daughters and experience with them with several breaks were absorbed into his heart and soul for him to take another look at your sleeping but clearly scared blood self beside his aunt.

“Jarvis, pull up any footage we got with Capsicle and him bringing down a balcony.”

Fury had seen the letter and picture that matched up with the other in the group sent to Peggy he shared with Tony along with images of the gardens made for Tony’s family. “So, she’s the one who helped in the Troubles and Dad and Peggy buried it as Chickadee.”

Fury said, “Makes sense, she’d only be a target after that.” After a sigh he said, “Flerken, not too happy to hear one of those is involved,”

“Dna is only a few days old. She just was taken and just came back either right before her trip and she got hit by that guy or right after.”

“Doom,” Fury muttered to himself, “Maybe he’s behind Chickadee’s travel too. You okay?”

Tony nodded, “I just don’t know what she said to my dad and aunt, five days, with them. Out hunting Nazi’s restoring three countries to independence.” Over his face he smoothed a hand and said, “Did you know Rogers has almost killed her four times? The bomb I know, found one she’s pulled out of the way of a balcony she’s eating under he took out, and another involving a shop she was inside he burst in by means of hurling a car at the front window. Can’t find the fourth dad wrote about yet but she was the one that third time to toss his shield in the recycling dumpster.”

Fury said, “I’ll have a talk with him. You take it easy.”

“What happened to this kid Fury? She gets zapped back in time to go hunt Nazis then just saunters off to school again like nothing’s wrong.” Tony asked protectively. “She gets a bomb thrown at her when she’s sick, kidnapped by the guy who killed hundreds to get her inheritance from her. All she has left, and she, just gets up, and goes to school.”

“Cooper said she makes him feel brave, seeing her up and about. Someone makes her feel brave Tony. One thing I know about her, it’ll take a great deal more than a bomb or even a swarm of Nazis to get her to stop chasing her dreams and doing as she damn well pleases after losing those eight years we know next to nothing about.”

“How do we just not know for eight years?”

“Everyone linked to her is dead now, or supposed to be. Till she talks, I’ll talk to Rogers. He tried to drop a balcony on me intentional or otherwise I’d not let him buy me lunch either.” Fury said turning to head out to find the Star Spangled man himself.

Open mouthed Steve watched the balcony footage and scoffed, “Clearly you can see I wasn’t aiming at her!”

“Clearly you can see I don’t give a damn.” Fury replied making Steve scoff.

“Language.” Steve muttered crossing his arms over his chest having been caught mid breakfast for this confrontation with Rhodey and Fury.

Rhodey, “What we know, she’s had her femur broken, been shot, stabbed, somehow hit with napalm,” dropping Steve’s jaw. “Beaten and put into a sensory deprivation chamber to the point she goes into a manic state when put in similar conditions now. That’s what we know and knowing her that’s not the half of it. She’s a kid who was expected to be perfect or she would be punished, physically and brutally. You hurt her, intentional or otherwise. Tell her you hurt her, tell her it was wrong, don’t bother her with your intentions or true target. Tell her straight what you did and that you are sorry. You shouldn’t have done it and she doesn’t deserve to be hurt, ever.”

Steve said, “Why does, why does that feel like one of those lie down and tell me what you’re felling type things.”

Fury, “It’s a do it or I’ll have your shield type thing.” Parting Steve’s lips. “Don’t cross your arms or throw a fit. The whole team has had to go through the ringer, this kid before that said you aim your shield at civilians and you called her a liar when you’ve aimed it at her three times and used that shield to knock a bomb at her. Our actions have consequences. That put us all under sanctions after the blip backfired and people got hurt again because of us trying to step in.”

Steve said, “She knows it was an accident.”

Rhodey, “Steve, I apologized to her for that, Clint has too and we didn’t even touch the bomb. I’m not saying you should have taken the blast yourself but Tony put out a taped apology and cards to the people he could find in the subway and hurt that night. She was sick and almost got blown up after falling asleep on the subway.”

“She’s special to Bucky. If anything, you bury the hatchet now or when she tells him about it you might not have that same friendship to bounce back into.” Fury said instantly sparking something in Steve’s head and chest. “Nearly none of us know what she went through and those who do who aren’t dead aren’t talking. Don’t make the mistake of hurting this kid and not apologizing. She’s got more than enough scars, don’t believe me take a look at her palms.”

*.*.*

‘Shocker Captured by Spidey!’

Boldly the headlines of the electrically powered battered baddy being timidly held by Spidey were buried. Talk of the Met Gala that he attacked, where Luke Cage was in attendance behind the scenes to play guard to his baby girl who was at her first official job on the lighting and design crew. The former who beat the living hell out of the man who zapped their whole building of bodies including his baby girl, who was no worse for wear but was clearly distressed at all her hard work being ruined erasing the relief of her months of anxiety on the finished product now smoldering.

That was buried under titles of a wanna be saint. Kris Jenner had sold everything, everything, vehicles, jewelry, clothes, shoes, accessories, artwork, spare properties and anything else she could get her hands on it seemed. Leaving all of her grandson’s things now moved into a more economical two bedroom home in a smaller suburb away from LA, a more efficient vehicle with good safety ratings at a fraction of the cost of her fleet of SUV’s, ten pieces of clothing and two pairs of shoes including the ones she was photographed in. All credit cut off, same as her appointments and subscriptions to everything but her medicine she was taking and her medical insurance.

Somehow she claimed to have awoken with a simple note congratulating her on all her charitable work and the keys to her new home and car. Her grandson was safe in his bed and she was not harmed and showed no sign of drugs or trauma on her body as per the notice from the hospital she went to. Her former mansions now were donated to battered women’s shelters and trauma rehabs for those less fortunate within California who were in great need of them.

Of course that was batted around like a ball of yarn to updates on the astoundingly large brain tumor the seizure, revealed at the Met Ball, that had the Swifties in an uproar as it was published their idol had been unaware of or concealing. Just like her mom though the cancer diagnosis had an unfurling of a deeper ring of scandal. Of how one of the late Victor Von Doom’s scientific centers near to the Christmas tree farm the idol had grown up on to build the fortune that had paid for her start to stardom had been poisoning the land and apparently all of its customers and residents for decades now.

So now her appropriately sad looking DJ boyfriend had to put a pause on his latest tour dates to play the part of spring boyfriend to sit at her side for the press no matter what he had been aspiring to do lately. Taking solace in his own mention of burns his arms had received he could have seen to in the process while supporting her and this imploding bubble of scandal even the idol’s family claimed to not know of.

The Scientist in question, now clearly presumed dormant as a metal statue inside a SHIELD prison facility for powered villains, would have to have his affairs handled by Richard Reed, who was in the process of being unwillingly named as heir to all the former’s properties and troubles by the Von Doom company board to not take responsibility themselves.

But then again the news would change once again of progress to the transport of the Shocker, then sad Swifties, and then the mourning pretend saint Jenner who would be crying about something else that had been liquidated to fuel a trust fund in her grandson’s name.

Back and forth again and again while confirmation had been made of a clear glow out in the Atlantic Ocean noticed by an alibi building secret Symbiote aboard military ship that had the world curious of why Misique, who was clearly digging for treasure again would be blamed for this. She couldn’t do it, you were having a ball in a theme park and various locations in Virginia of all places during all this so someone was crying wolf here. And by the third hour the news simply stopped talking about her and started to show the pre planned set of talented animal guests or whatever they had slotted on the shows to shut her out.

So in all of this you had to go to school where you were met by a blast of news when your teachers were there to meet you at your locker with smiles and a celebratory allergen free chocolate mint chocolate chip muffin. Wide eyed the printout of the new laureates for the Nobel Prizes were in the Dean’s hand with your name in two Science categories for both Medicine and Physics for both your machine and research study alongside the aviation wonders you had designed with kinetic engines.

Mention of the Blackhowls were made in the article that had excluded you back then as military grade aviation was barred from receiving nominations but now you had branched out of that into public travel they could gladly list you amongst the coveted ranks of nominees from throughout previous eras of study and invention. “What?!” You whispered turning the page over and simply accepting the muffin to be spoken to by the proud staff members to have one of their pupils achieve such a high honor, twice.

Wide eyed in an internally panick laced glare at Eddie through the glass walls of the meeting room he was reclined in a chair, brainstorming ideas of the next slew of stories with a trio of fellow writers to counter the current media storm, you pressed the sheet of names against the glass. Head craned at the alert from Venom you were here he almost fell out of his chair to read the page that had him wave a hand mouthing he needed a minute to the man talking in the group and slip out. Across the floor from his office Jameson and the man from the office next door adjusted in their seats to get a better view of you as you handed Eddie the sheet that had his jaw drop.

“Is this why Thengel took us to that dress and tux shop?” He whispered sharply about your grandfather.

“I don’t know!” You whispered sharply back. “Six days ago I was being taken by the Easter Bunny and his alien cat to go kill about a few hundred thousand clones back in the 60’s! Now this is what I’m met with while at school!”

“This printed yesterday morning, he didn’t say anything. That’s, odd.” Looking from the sheet to you he asked seeing your still pointed gaze up at him. “Would you know this on your own?”

“I don’t keep track of this! The youngest winner was 25 back in 1915! Why would I keep track of this?! Now it’s three! Speeches! Graduation was hard enough now this one, two, will be, forever! They go in books Eddie!”

“Seventeen, not bad,”

“Sixteen, they’re recording it time of invention or action for some reason to make it more astonishing!” You said and smoothed your hands across your forehead.

“Is this a congratulations?” He asked with forehead wrinkling mid brow rise with a timid smile spread across his lips making you shrug with arms still up.

“I don’t know, I don’t know! Everyone is all Romeo and Juliet at school to support some tumor grower or in battling band shirts for Goblin target fodder, and wading through that chaos I get this! I don’t know if I’m supposed to be happy as now, I’m the youngest, ever, to not just get them but if I win then I am the youngest ever, both regular and female to win two! I think it’s a congratulations...but I have an exam today...”

In the drop of your arms he looped his around your back for a more depressed sister smush than a warm receptive hug that he pressed his lips to the top of your head. “I’m buying you so much food after school! With cakes and candles, the shark shaped ones.”

Against his chest you said making him smile at the muffled voice as your hands took hold of the sides of his shirt. “I love the shark ones.”

“I know. Now, off to school, and I will keep the offending paper.” You nodded and turned and even outside as Jonah came out to inquire along with the now silent group of brain stormers their ideas were shoved aside to write up a flash headline worthy story on a noted local sixteen year old who was nominated for two prestigious awards. The second woman to win two, not just in Science categories but two total. The fifth woman overall to win in Physics and making just over a baker’s dozen to win in Medicine alongside the female twin of Idun and Epli inside the male dominated winners pool.

Now at least the other press outlets who picked this up would dig and see the dress and tux shop stop in the sea of odd stops to cover the slightly hopeful shopping trip just in case a girl against giants in other fields stood a chance in the secretive nominee pool. Fledgling friendship with the King of Sweden, who presents the awards, that might have had some slew towards nepotism. The fact you’d only met the man once after you had begun the trial was enough to shut that down, while the second aviation move by that introduction had others claim you struck a genius move to offer ideas to the heads of countries open to such technology while you had the chance. Tech that had been tried and tested by the military to help with the world crisis after the blip years prior that some would wonder at why you were not named then and could only know fifty years after the fact if you had been nominated at all the year afterwards.

All the same that sliver of tarnishing the nominations were claimed by others to have chosen this hidden shopping spree that could be excused away and forgotten if in fact you were not named an un-scandalous winner in either. On the way to the subway you browsed through the email and congratulatory messages, none more exuberant than Reed Richards, who has won multiple and said he would be there as he had been for the years prior to support you as you gave your lectures. You just had to think up what you might talk about and then write them alongside your graduation speech.

Thanksgiving this year at least would be memorable at Riot’s Other’s home where he would prep a meal for you, Phage, Agony, Legion, Shriek, Venom and Eddie to see how his cooking courses had been paying off. New details of what they knew Carnage to be up to in his continual bloodbath of the wealthy on the West Coast as he seemed to enjoy both the killing and toppling of financial empires as best he could manage.

Afterwards while the younger Symbiotes had plans a trip to meet up with Johnny Blaze and Carter Slade found you oddly atop a golf course with Isaiah Bradley at your side. A lunch at Blaze’s place out of the cosmos drew a flock of male pro golfers who were raring to go as a gulf storm had cut off one of their tournaments. Spare clubs had been bought by Johnny for you in this spur of the moment game to calm the pros that had a league of cameras in tow to go with those already following Johnny and those who dared to imagine to get a comment from you. “Have you ever played golf before?” Isaiah asked then said lowly, “Honestly I can’t stand the sport.”

Smirking up at him as Tiger was readying the ball you answered, “No, but it’s just a matter of mathematics.”

Back at you he smirked and leaned in to say, “Let’s see if we can make one of these so called pro’s cry today.” To yourself you chuckled and watched bodies far away crossing the almost impossibly kept greens for the 20 degree day set for snow later to watch the show.

Johnny was the one to turn as a pro called on him to go who looked your way, “Pluto should go first, distract you all for when I whack it in the pond.”

“You’re up then little miss,” said the same pro who shifted to whisper with his pro friends on subtle assumptions how your jean, sweater and boot clad self would play the hole as you shrugged out of your coat Isaiah took hold of for you.

“That guy used the chubby one, but they’ll all work if you hit it the right way would be my guess.” He said grinning to himself at your hushed giggle in selecting the one your bees agreed you should use as they worked the math for this hole. Golfers, very much unlike snipers have a very distinct way about calculating distance and force. But from this hole to the ninth not just the pros but the crowd who were filming the makeshift replacement game for the canceled one couldn’t speak if they tried when you teed up for the tenth in wait to see if you would match the records of ten hole in ones in a row or even surpass it.

Simple mathematics. Your answer and Eddie with the pros was able to gain a hefty chunk of change at their bets to see how many you could get. Hole ten to the final hole nothing really changed for you. Cold, hungry, bored out of your mind with this tedious sport of mostly waiting and shivering, even if profitable by betting, this hole had you ache to just sprint off home afterwards, more so that it had gotten dark and the club had broken out lights for the back leg of this game.

Seven of the ten pros in the group had gotten their own hole in ones as the others scored as close to par as possible after your third of the streak. Between urges to shiver you readied fingers around the grip of the club and gave it one last meticulously perfected swing to send the ball off in a perfect arch to have it roll right up to the hole and drop in. A reaction cemented in proof by the shouts and exclamations of the men by the hold manning the lights and holding the flag.

Isaiah the hero he was managed to slip you and Eddie out of sight to meet up with Johnny and Carter in the parking lot as the pros got swarmed by the press who wanted to know their next stops now they seemed fired up to compete officially again after such an inspiring match. “How did we end up playing golf, Johnny?”

That had him chuckle and say, “Had a bit of a debt with a demon, had to play against that guy in blue, he’s got a weird symbiotic thing through that guy likes to match people up against him. Not important, but he said I couldn’t find somebody to beat that guy, and you did.” He lifted a finger at your brow lifting look up at him and around his finger flames erupted and a ring of woven navy blue chain with aged silver pearls to form a bangle. “Said he took this from Queen Lagertha when she died,” your lips parted in locking eyes with him after having looked at the supposed rare piece. “Now I’m not old enough to know either way, but it’s really cool, and he says it burns him if he touches it and he’s kind of eager to get rid of it. Loves to wear his stolen goods and it infuriates him, apparently he’s been trying to unload it since he got it and I’m the only one to bite.”

Timidly off his burning fingers to his half hearted chuckle you lifted the piece to see it shimmer in a ripple of lights across it causing you to turn it over finding a series of runes there around the marker for Bor. “This was a gift from King Bor, it has her name on it.” Up at him you looked, “It’s Asgardian metal, like my locket it curses those who steal them. You got this for me?”

“Well it’s not my shade and Carter prefers hoop earrings.” Johnny joked making you giggle excitedly to Carter’s chuckle and grin your way.

Isaiah asked, “If it’s cursed would it curse you?”

Up at him you looked, “I can ask Heimdall or one of the Beserkers I know later.” And to Johnny you smiled saying, “Thank you, if it is hers this is beyond priceless.”

Carter said, “And I booked the aquarium, surprisingly open tonight and eager for a booking, whole place to ourselves and they have this swanky under the stars themed place to eat inside,” he said chuckling at the hugs you gave the duo who had stolen the time to give you the Christmas gifts early.

Pictures by morning of the bracelet confirmed for the jewelry mason amongst your Beserker contacts that it was hers, though unlike the locket they simply encouraged you to slip it on to see if you could wear it as you bore her name. At least for now as it didn’t burn your skin you had a new piece you could wear to the Yule festival, and if Yggdrasil guided you to where she was lain or a place sacred to her you would bury it and return it to her. And placing the bangle in a safe place some more work was to begin on the sail while you were still on break.

Footage of the Christmas trees being air lifted to their new locations on a lunch break seen through a store front window that broke the news coverage of the inheritance battle instantly answered what the rings were. Transporter rings, just like the Rainbow Bridge to tap into a channel of Yggdrasil’s roots to send things from one ring and out the other. A realization that freed you to push harder now that you knew what you were aiming at and a goal to work towards. Materials would be confusing on how to make them stable and not risk a possible black hole or something as dangerous and would have you pause to keep working on the sail to keep both projects going and not to stalemate on either.

Pt 46

#Escaped Child Assassin #Eddie Brock #Venom #Peggy Carter #Tony Stark #Nick Fury #James Rhodes #Steve Rogers #Apologize Cap #Aftermath of Goblin Attack #The Shocker Attacks #Luke Cage #Spider-man #Surprise #Youngest Ever #Marvel #Electro #Lagertha's bracelet

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grabbedbag · 3 years

Text

Thinking about Mono’s comic chapter

#a separate event from the school incident in my canon #he tried to make up for his actions in that event by aiding a pocket of runaways he’d manage to stumble across #they were weary of him seeing as he was fresh from the school but he was gradually welcomed into the group after his powers proved useful #it was a rather sturdy band of kids they had made a home for themselves in the husk of an abandoned apartment #he’d finally thought he found a place to be welcome and safe in #but of course wherever he goes disaster follows #the hide out was attacked and already present structural damage resulted in an electrical fire #there was panic with everyone rushing to flee from the strange skeletal arms snatching away their friends #as much as he loathed himself for running away the first time (leaving those who depended on him in danger) he found himself doing it again #this time excusing it as leading the monster away from the rest of the group #he cowarded within the broken tv cornered and out of options #this was the first time he managed to warp without the assistance of the television #found himself back on the streets of the city with the flaming building behind him #it was at that moment he knew he could no longer stay in this city #with a door as his raft he took to the water at the city’s edge and paddles until he found land once more #the woods was a nice change of scenery #💼 hcs

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atozfic · 3 years

Note

ok but ceo seonghwa on the desk + eating out????????

pairing. park seonghwa x fem!reader. | warnings. ceo!hwa, infidelity, husband!jongho, smut. dom!seonghwa, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), themes of cheating, light dirty talk, seonghwa is literally obsessed with the reader,,, seonghwa? more like simphwa. | word count. 878 | hyde’s input. press f to pay respect to poor jongho.

the clock on the wall is ticking but you're far too distracted by his licking.

he has half the heart to warn you, or to conjure up the will-power to detach himself from your heavenly taste but, alas, he's waited far too long, lusted far too intensely just to lose his chance to something as meaningless as time.

"c'mon princess, i know you can be louder than that." he mumbles from his position between your legs, head turning to brush his cherry lips against the skin on your thigh. there's no hesitance when he speaks, which almost fools you into thinking this isn't the first time he's touched you in such a way.

but how could he ever forget the words your husband, drunken and overly zealous to brag about you, had recounted to a whole board of people, eagerly spilling details about your sex-life, planting the dirtiest seed in seonghwa's brain.

he needed to have you.

seonghwa drags his tongue up your soaked slit, teasing your hole with the possibility of his muscle finally entering you only for him to continue toward your aching clit. it’s when he sucks on your bud that he gets you to succumb to your pleasure, throwing your head back as the most sinful moan leaves you.

his eyes never leave you, not at your wedding, not at business events and certainly not now as you sit upon his desk, pretty skirt bunched up and panties long-ago stuffed into the pocket of his suit jacket, which he’d discarded moments before sinking to his knees in front of you, tie already removed and several of his shirt’s buttons undone prior, when he’d finally been blessed enough to have your lips against his own in a heated make-out.

“hwa, oh my-” your voice, sweeter than any chocolate, breaking at the pleasure of his own actions is all the encouragement he needs, really, but your fingers tangling and pulling at his hair do nothing but aid.

while one hand grips your thigh, keeping you spread open, the other makes it’s way up to your core, not even warning you before one of his fingers enters you and his mouth is back on your clit, teasing you with the tip of his tongue while another finger joins in on stretching you open.

“fuck, princess, you’re so tight.” he knows you’re staring at your own wetness resting against his lips, just like he feels you clench around his digits when his tongue swipes over them to collect the remnants of you. “has jongho not been fucking you right, hmm? when was the last time anyone touched you, baby?”

“two- ahh-” he times it perfectly, unable to hold back a humored laugh when your eyes roll back as his fingers brush against your most sensitive spot. you swallow, trying to collect yourself, and he takes the chance to taste you again, tongue licking up any part of you it can reach. “two months. he’s been- hwa!- too busy with the- oh my- with the lawsuit.”

his heart aches for you, while simultaneously writhing with anger aimed at his once business partner. what kind of man neglected his wife’s needs, over some silly court papers?

“my poor baby. i wouldn’t do that to you.” the pout on his face is mocking you in ways that only serve to make you wetter, to make you want him more. “you know that, right? never would’ve let this stupid lawsuit between me and him get in the way of me keeping your pretty cunt satisfied. in fact, i’d probably have recorded it and sent it to him, just to show how much fun i was still having whilst he tries to make my life a living hell in court.”

the next few moments are a blur of his fingers pulling out of you, him rising to his feet and looming over you with his tall frame. he can’t resist the praise that bubbles out of him when he watches your lips wrap around his soaked fingers, cleaning yourself off of him.

“don’t worry, princess, i’ll take care of you, okay?” you’ve already buried our head in the crook of his neck, doing your best to leave your marks on him whilst also unbuckling his belt, impatient to have him fill you up after all the years of silent pining and unaddressed sexual tension. “you’ve been such a good girl, you deserve to have a nice, hard cock fuck you.”

behind your back, your phone-screen lights up with another message notification and he’s incapable of holding back a grin of victory when he reads it, just as your hand finally dips into his boxers to take a hold of his member.

[18:06 pm] jjong 🐻: gonna be home late, need to go pick something up from park seonghwa’s office.

[18:08 pm] jjong 🐻: apparently he forgot to give my lawyer a copy of the settlement agreement.

[18:14 pm] jjong 🐻: i’ll see you soon, ok? we can go out for dinner or something, celebrate the fact this defamation case is coming to an end finally.

[18:17 pm] jjong 🐻: forgot to say it but i love you xx

[18:39 pm] jjong 🐻: you better hope park seonghwa’s lawyers also deal with divorce cases.

#i'm so sorry for the first sentence in this drabble but it had me in stitches laughing for 10 minutes so i had to include it #ateez smut #park seonghwa smut

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haztory · 3 years

Note

OK BUT THAT'S ME BEING AN IDIOT HAHAHHAHAHAHAHA drabble/sfw JAHAHHAHAHAHAH DAMN

““You better catch that fucking bouquet, babe. Our relationship is on the line!” + “You wanna go toe to toe with me, pretty boy?” with Bokuto for the loveliest Clara! from my writing event that is now closed!

warnings: adult langauge and that’s it!

a/n: i answered her previous ask for the quotes so i’m just posting the drabble here! thank you for your patience my love!!! i hope you like it <33333

bokuto koutarou x f!reader; (fluff, all the fluff and wedding shenanigans)

Bokuto loves weddings. They’re truly his weak spot. Ask him to attend and he’s there an hour early, regardless of whether you’re his best friend or his cousin twice removed. The man lives for a wedding.

He loves the sentimentality of the ceremony that never fails to make him teary-eyed and oppositely, he loves the liveliness of the reception, half tempted every time to push the DJ aside and take over the mixing of music with a drink in his hand and a sloppy yell. He’s a vivacious mess of mixed moods and energy, but truthfully, he’s the best date anyone could ever ask for.

The best attendee too, considering almost everyone wants him to be a groomsman. He usually can never say no, but this time, it wasn’t even a question; Especially not for Hinata.

But above all, he loves that every wedding he attends grants him ample opportunity to enter into the sanctity of his fantasies and imagine his own.

“Did ya see him up there?!” Atsumu barks with a hard laugh, one hand clutching his whiskey and another his suit-clad chest, “He was cryin’ more than the groom!”

Met with the boastful laughs of his fellow team members, all gathered in a scattered circle by the bar, Bokuto jokingly pushes the blond on his left with a loud scoff and a faux-defense tone.

“I held it in!”

“I heard you sniffling when Sho finally entered the venue,” Sakusa says, pointing a finger at Bokuto with the same hand that held his own alcoholic drink, “Don’t lie.”

The group erupts into even more scattered laughter, that of which Bokuto finally joins in. His suit jacket has long since been abandoned, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as he holds his hands up in surrender, “What can I say? I love weddings!”

Throwing an arm around his shoulders, Meian joyfully says from beside him, “At least we’ll know now how you’ll be at your own.” His eyes waggle in accompaniment and Bokuto feels his cheeks start to ache from the intensity of his smile.

“We’ll bring extra tissues!”

Flustered to the core, Bokuto dips his head in abnormal shyness— the likes of which have the entirety of his friend group leaning forward in curiosity, their own interested smiles painted on their faces.

Fascinating as it may be to see the loud and boisterous wing spiker reduced to flushed cheeks at the mention of marriage, it doesn’t take much to figure out why; Even if they didn’t know him as well as they did, it was more than clear as to the reason when Bokuto’s own gaze tries to covertly dart to the side. That of which they all notice and blatantly follow.

Stood beside the table of the bride, there you stood in all of your sheer elegance laughing with a number of the bridesmaids, blissfully unaware of a loving gaze that was drawn much too heavily to your turned figure. Focused on the way your dress shimmers in the dim lighting and the way you speak amongst the other guests, Bokuto feels locked in the trace of your magnanimous presence. Shyness dissipating quickly and replaced with the overwhelming flutter in his stomach.

And, not for the first time this night, he wonders briefly what it would be like if it were you walking down the aisle; If instead of the sheer, shimmery dress that adorned you beautifully, you were wearing a white one.

As he watched with exuberant joy as one of his closest friends married the one he loved, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if this were his wedding. If it were you walking down the aisle to the ethereal orchestra with your closest friends and family in attendance, all watching with eager rapture at your astounding beauty as he surely would be. But none of them, not a single one of them could ever compare to the intensity of his own stupefied gaze.

He’s imagined the scenario too often, felt tears prick the corner of his eyes every time, and he grows more excited each time he’s fantasized. But nothing gives him more butterflies than the thought of interlocking his hand with yours, placing his ring of eternal promise on your third finger, and avidly vow forever with you.

It’s not like he needs a wedding to promise that; He sees his future every time he looks at you—even if you have your back turned to him and are chatting away unsuspectingly with the fellow attendees.

But a wedding would be nice, he thinks.

“That’s if he can get married,” Atsumu mutters into his glass cup and takes a long drink of his whiskey.

Bokuto, interrupted from his loving stare at the back of your head, snaps his own head to the blond with the speed to break necks. Eyebrows furrowed, fantasy ruined, and full offense coating his syllables, he exclaims, “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, Atsumu leans one elbow on the surface of the bar counter and swirls his drink around, “Ya keep sayin’ yer gonna do it, but how long’s it been? Seven, eight months? If you haven’t done it yet, yer not ever gonna.”

A quick flash of sternness settles into the eyes of their captain, his arm still wrapped around the shoulders of the slowly deflating wing spiker. “He’ll do it when he’s ready, Atsumu. There’s no need to rush something like that.”

Rolling his eyes, Sakusa chimes in from across the three men. Pointing his stare at Koutarou, who resembles a kicked puppy at this point, he sighs. Not one to expel too much effort in emotional comfort, he decides this one is worthy of some kind of attempt. Albeit a minimal one.

“Don’t listen to this idiot, Koutarou.”

“‘m jus’ sayin’. She won’t wait for long, man,” Atsumu shrugs his shoulders again, eyes flitting to his right. Out of the corner, Koutarou deflates even more— shoulders slumped and the corners of his mouth downturned noticeably. He huffs out a quiet laugh through his nose.

Step one, complete.

“Since when were you such an expert in what women want?” Sakusa snorts.

“I have experience, thank you very much!”

“That’s hard to believe.”

Sticking his tongue out at Sakusa, he pointedly ignores the insult to his knowledge of the feminine desires and turns his attention to the subject matter at hand.

Atsumu knows what women, having dated quite a few in his years. More specifically, he knew what you want, considering one drunk evening you had wondered aloud— quite heartachingly in your alcoholic daze, he might add— if the boisterous wing spiker even wanted to marry you. Bokuto, in your words verbatim—

“He just always gets fidgety when I bring it up and I jus’ dunno if he even likes me anymore cause yesterday, he said that my dinner was just ‘okay’ when he always says that he really loves it. Do you know how that made me feel? How could he even want to marry me when I make just ‘okay’ food? Do you know how much he eats? How can he survive!”

And as the ever so loyal friend that Atsumu considers himself to be, who is never one to ever meddle in the business of others, decided it was only right of him to solve this slight problem himself.

By taunting Bokuto, of course.

If only to make him take matters into his own hands and finally do what everyone has been waiting for. What he knew the poor man has been dying to do forever, considering he never shuts up about you.

And also, to finally have you stop drunk texting him, no matter how endearing he may find them to be.

“So,” Atsumu sings once more, ignoring the look of exasperation on Meian’s face and instead, zoning in on the face of despair before him, “what are ya waiting for?”

In his stupefied stare at the blond beside him, Bokuto finds his gaze once more being drawn back to your turned figure that stands right in his line of sight. Wearing that pretty dress that you face timed him to get his opinion on, smelling of sweet lavender and jasmine— his favorite perfume of yours— and the lip gloss that you begged him not to mess up. He didn’t listen, and truthfully, you hardly minded all that much.

What is he waiting for? He knows what he wants, so why hasn’t he done it yet?

What if you’re growing tired of how long he’s been waiting? What if you’re unhappy that your relationship hasn’t progressed to the next stage? Oh god, what if--

His mouth opens then closes, then opens once again, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “I… I don’t know.”

“Do ya want to marry her?”

Bokuto nods eagerly, as though through the action alone he could dispel of any lingering doubt that ever had the audacity to pervade his thoughts, “Of course! I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

“Ya think she’s gonna say ‘no’?”

Looking at his two other teammates, who each have their own curiosities piqued at the line of questioning, he shakes his head with finality.

“No. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Then ya just need a push!” Placing his drink on the counter, Atsumu slaps his hand on the man’s shoulder, “How about this: If yer girl catches the bouquet, ya rip the band-aid and ya ask her—”

Stepping in once more, Meian chimes, “Don’t push him to do something he’s not ready for—”

“I ain’t pushin’! He’s got the ring already, right?”

“You do?” All eyes fall onto Bokuto, who stares with widened innocent stare at each of them. He quickly shoves his hand into his pocket, pulling out his fist to reveal a velvet box in his hand.

“I’ve been carrying it with me every day for the past six months. I just didn’t know if I should do it.”

Three pairs of eyes stare blankly at the man before them. Sharing a quick look at one another, the message is translated seamlessly between each of them and voiced eloquently by Meian himself. Ever the efficient captain.

“Holy shit.”

“My friend,” Atsumu laughs, squeezing his hand on the broad shoulder of his closest friend. His smile, innocent enough to the passing gaze, holds that twinge of mischief that Bokuto has come to know rather intimately; A taunting smile that has been directed his way one too many times that usually never ends well.

“I dare ya to propose to yer girl if she catches that bouquet. If yer really a man, that is.”

Bokuto’s eye twitches, his features narrowed at the utterance of the dare, and that’s how Atsumu knows he’s got him in the bag. It has his own smile widening even further, as Bokuto’s face scrunches in suspicion, knowing full well that he could never resist a dare.

With the single word alone, long gone is the hesitancy and doubt that plagued the man just a moment before, and instead stands a man tall in his ushering of competition. A man who thrives off the challenge, especially wherever his teammate presented one. It’s almost startling how quickly he sheds his mopey behavior and embraces his natural presence, which overwhelms and overpowers everyone around them.

Step two, done.

“And if she doesn’t?” Bokuto asks, smugness filtering his words as he entertains the notion— silently accepts the provocation laid before him and drastically alters himself in order to successfully combat it.

In order to win.

Spotting the glint of devilry that grows in strength in the narrowing of Bokuto’s eyes, Atsumu smirks and meets it with one of his own. He’s got him, hook, line, and sinker.

“Ya break up.”

Bokuto reels backward physically, shaken from the competitive trance and staring at the man in grotesque shock. The kind that almost borders anger and offense. Huffing a breath through his nose, he takes a step forward, away from the present comfort of Meian and almost in accusation.

“Are you trying to ruin my life, blondie? You trying to go toe to toe with me, pretty boy?”

Atsumu laughs, holding his hands up in defense, “I’m tryna get ya married, big guy!” Shoving his hands into his pockets, hardly phased by the proximity in which the large man has entrenched onto his space, he shrugs once more, “That is… if yer man enough to take it.”

“Deal,” Bokuto says without hesitation, both incredibly and not at all to the surprise of the other two men who have been silently watching from the sidelines. Like a sudden reset, the tension that resided stiffly in the shoulders of Bokuto rescinds, and replaced is the confident, joyous man.

A man who looks as though he’s won easy money and then some.

Smiling widely, Bokuto turns in his place and begins a bold strut away from his friends. In the direction of his beloved, “Excuuuse me, gentlemen. I’m going to go teach my lady how to catch a bouquet.”

Meian and Kiyoomi step to the side, allowing enough space for Bokuto to walk through with the hint of laughter in their small smiles.

Spinning on his heel and pointing his thumb at his chest, Bokuto exclaims proudly, “This time tomorrow, I will be a married man!”

“One wedding at a time, Kou.” Meian laughs at the retreating man, who is beaming from head to toe.

“Better train ‘er good, big guy! Or else I might be the next one to propose to her!” Atsumu calls out as Bokuto gets closer and closer towards your turned figure.

“I’ll kill you!” He calls back, hearing the echoing laughter diminish as he finally steps beside you.

Turning from the conversation with one of the bridesmaids to the new presence, you shine beautifully upon recognizing who it is, and Bokuto feels his resolve grow almost stronger.

“Hi baby,” You coo, instinctually placing your hand into his and leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek when he quickly presents it to you, “Did you have fun with the boys?”

Wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, he places his own kiss on your cheek, humming against the surface of the skin yet making no move to part from you. “Mhmm. Just missed you.”

You laugh, rubbing your hand on his arm, “You were only gone for a couple minutes, Kou.”

Trailing his lips downward, he nuzzles himself into your neck, inhaling deeply. Lavender and jasmine. His favorite scent.

The one he wants to smell for the rest of his life.

“Ten minutes is too long.”

If possible, he manages to pull you even tighter against him. Two strong arms wrapping around you, pulling your chest into his and squeezing you tightly. Lovingly and entirely too comforting. Home.

You return the embrace eagerly, holding him to you equally as tight, “You’re right. It was starting to get boring without you.”

His hand, warm and large against the small of your back, rubs the surface up and down before he pulls back slightly, if only to look at your face in its entirety and the lip gloss you have unfortunately reapplied.

“You’re gonna do the bouquet toss, right?”

You raise an eyebrow, “I usually do. Why?”

He glances to the side, avoiding your inquiring stare. He raises a hand from your waist, rubbing the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile, “Maybe we should go outside, and I can throw a couple of rocks at you. Just to practice your catching skills.”

“Kou— “

“Can’t have anyone disrespecting you on the floor, can we? We gotta let everyone know you’re a winner! Cause you’re my girl, and whoever disrespects you, disrespects me! You know? So, you better catch that fucking bouquet. I mean, our relationship is on the line, here!”

“Koutarou—” From the tone in which you say his name, he knows he’s not making any sense. You’re confused, incredibly so, and he can’t blame you. Truthfully, he doesn’t even know what he’s saying, only that he has a goal, and he has to make you see it without revealing himself entirely.

“I mean, only if you want to. It just… means a lot to me, and I want you to say yes, because I love you. And if you win, I win in a lot of ways. And I want to win with you, for the rest of our lives.”

Realizing almost entirely too late that he was talking with duplicity that you have most certainly caught on towards, he decides there is a good place to stop talking entirely. Oh god, he’s such an idiot. What was he thinking? He can never hide anything from you!

If you couldn’t tell from the way he was talking in metaphors, you could most definitely see it from the way in which sweat beads at the top of his forehead.

Your eyes flicker from each of his, your warm palms cupping the sides of his face as you watch him with concern.

“Baby,” You breathe out, voice steady and calm as you watch his resolve slowly crack under your watchful stare, “Did you want to talk to me about something?”

He tried desperately to remind himself that he has a mission to accomplish, that there was a dare that Atsumu had challenged him to that he must complete—but it’s you. You’re the trump card, the weakness in his defense, his priority above all else. He could never hide anything from you because you would catch him in a quick minute. And truthfully, he doesn’t want to hide anything from you.

It was easy to hide the ring under the guise of waiting for the perfect time, a mental barrier that he could excuse as a good cause behind his hesitancy, but now that he’s accepted a dare that is forcing him to put his desires to immediate use, he can hardly wait for the bouquet toss to arrive.

He’s got to do it now. The time is right, it will never be more perfect. You look beautiful, you’re held tightly in his arms, and he’s never been more convinced of the fact that he loves you. Why has he even waited this long?

He has to do it—Atsumu be damned.

“Marry me.”

Extra:

“You really think she’s going to catch it?” Meian asks Atsumu, as they both watch from afar the way Bokuto wraps himself around your body, nuzzling unabashedly into you.

Atsumu scoffs, “Hell no. Girl can’t catch fer shit.”

Furrowing his brows, Meian stares at the blond with intense confusion, “Then why did you—”

“Just had to plant the idea in his head. He’ll do it soon, jus’ give it a minute.”

The two watch you both silently, noticing the way in which Bokuto pulls away from you and starts to speak rapidly. Neither of them can hear what he’s saying, but they can see his lips moving. More importantly, can see the way in which you stare in perplexion.

Then finally, his lips stop moving and your hands cup his face. The setter and captain feel their breaths hitch and they both lean forward if only to see if they can read the wing spiker’s lips from where they stand.

They can. And from the way you respond with a laugh and an eager kiss, they know it worked.

Looking to Meian, Atsumu raises his brow with a smile, “Told ya!”

end note: to everyone who sent a request, it is on it’s way! i just don’t know the definition of a drabble and instead make 3k long fics, so that’s fun.

#bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #bokuto fluff #bokuto drabble #bokuto fic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabble #hq fluff #hq drabble #hq fic #haikyuu fic #my writing #my fic #writing event

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kuroyukihime · 3 years

Text

Bakugo x Reader: Choose Me [Pt. 1]

[LOTS OF ERROR; TO BE REVISED]

“HEADLINE: PRO HERO – DYNAMIGHT ANNOUNCES HIS MARRIAGE”

It was fucking news to everyone, heck even the No.1 Pro Hero busted through his office doors demanding an explanation. It was so out of the blue as the picture of him together with another girl at a restaurant, with him reaching out touching the woman’s cheek spread like wildfire all over the internet. No one knew he had been dating, no one even knew he was interested in others. Literally everyone thought… Bakugo Katsuki was after you. You who had been there for him since high school, never in his personal space but always was with him, never failing him and was always doing your best to be there for him whether he needed you or not. You always did your best not to let your feelings get known specifically to him, so when others noticed him warming up to you and then inviting you to his agency (which he was just planning on having and building) right after fucking graduation and then the event where the villain almost had you and he literally went full murder mode just to retrieve you, everyone thought for sure you guys were going to end up together. So—

“Kacchan!” Slamming his palm on Midoriya’s face, Bakugo gritted his teeth “You’re way too close, you damn nerd!”

“Bakugo-kun! What is this? Is this true?” Uraraka asked, showing him the article on her phone

“Ha? What part of it do you not understand, Round cheeks? It’s exactly what’s written there!” He growled

“But… Not even we know you were going out, you’re always at work!” Kirishima reasoned

“AH! SO ANNOYING! GET OUT OF MY CASE YOU IDIOTS! IT’S EXACTLY WHAT IT MEANS! NOW FUCK OFF!” He snapped, gritting his teeth in frustration

“Katsuki!” A voice called out to him from behind, everyone’s attention turned to you as you simply smiled, holding your phone close to your chest. The way you were gripping it tight didn’t go unnoticed by many, especially Bakugo

“Congratulations!” You grinned and Bakugo just stared at you for a second before scoffing and looking to the side

“Yeah… Whatever…”

The silence that followed was thick but no one knew what to say. Still true to your role however, you were still his sidekick, and his second in command of the agency. You still had work to do.

“Ah that’s right minna! It’s still noon, you shouldn’t be flooding here unless you have businesses to attend to! Back to your agencies you go!” You ushered them out

Please. No more gazes of pity. Please get out. Or else… I won’t make it through…

“(Name)-san…” Midoriya looked at you with concern in his eyes as you slowly closed the door of Bakugo’s office. Standing there in front of everyone, you took a deep breath and hardened your smile. You needed to make it. Just until the end of the day… please

“We can talk later… For now, you guys have work” You bid them all goodbye “I’ll see you later”

Without even giving them a chance to reply, you retreated back to Bakugo’s office, unintentionally slamming the door harder than expected

“Oi”

You visibly flinched when he called out to you. You really weren’t in the mood to talk to him, more or less stand to be in the same room as him. You could feel yourself starting to break little by little

“Whoops sorry, didn’t mean to slam that harder than intended. Oh by the way, you haven’t done your patrol yet, right?” You laughed, going over to your desk and rearranging the papers “I can take over the shift for you, I need some fresh air anyways” You said and by the time you finished talking you were already out the door

Bakugo glanced at the huge open windows lined up in his office room, literally placed right behind where his office desk stood parallel to

“Fresh air my ass” He grumbled

EARLIER THAT DAY…

“HA?! AIN’T NO WAY I’M DOING THAT SHIT! GO DIE!”

“B-but Dynamight! The aristocrat’s daughter is in danger! The only way we can catch the villain that has been stalking her is if we announce a public wedding!” The higher ups tried to reason with him

“THEN FIND ANOTHER RICH ASSHOLE FOR THIS SHIT OR BETTER YET SET CCTVs OR HERO AND BODYGUARDS ON STAND-BY TO GUARD THE BITCH! FUCKING THINK!”

“A-ah, we’ve already set those up, but we need a pro hero on her side since the initiation will surely happen at the wedding and the daughter specifically requested you to guard her!”

He honestly feels disgusted by that information

Keh! Bitch is a fan, fucking great

Then again, this was a huge group of villains they’re talking about. Sighing in annoyance, he eventually agreed. Now, how was he going to explain this—

“Ah by the way, Dynamight, you can’t speak a word about this to anyone. The villains have a member that can camouflage and has another that has intense hearing from miles away. Strictly not a word until the mission is done”

BACK TO PRESENT…

A ring coming from his phone brought him back to reality. He fished his phone out from his pocket and looked at who had texted him.

“Father said we should meet up at X Restaurant, see you there <3”

Staring at the door where he last saw your retreating figure, Bakugo took a deep breath and shouted in frustration

“FUCKING SHIT!”

At your part, jumping from roof to roof, you tried your best to do the patrol as diligent as possible. You needed to clear your mind as well. This ugly, painful feeling stirring up a storm inside of you made you clench your fist in frustration. It’s your fault for expecting so much, your fault for reading the signs wrong and it was your fault for loving a person who promised you nothing. Letting the tears finally drop, you silently cried at the rooftop alone. You had no idea how long you were crying however, even this time of wallowing wasn’t given to you by fate because after a few minutes, you heard distant crying and screams and as the sun was setting, you squinted your eyes, noticing something from the distance before the villain charged straight at you.

You seethed through the pain of your body hitting the floor of the rooftop with such force as the villain loomed down on you. Ah fuck, those were going to leave bruises. Summoning your weapon, you roughly grabbed the Villain’s foot and shoved him out of the way.

“I’m kinda in a bad mood… Sorry” You muttered, charging straight after the villain

As usual, the news were already on your tail. The villain provided quite a bit of a fight, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. Plus, with the negative emotion fuelling you, it wasn’t long before the villain finally gave himself up in exchange for his life. When the news reporter asked for an interview, you simply turned and ignored them. You can’t have cameras up in your face this time, everyone will notice the puffy eyes. However, your cold actions startled everyone. You were known as the kind one between your duo, while the Pro Hero Dynamight was as brash as he can be, you were always the one the media counted to speak in his behalf. Always smilling, always having such a warm aura. The usual welcoming hero-type.

Returning back to the agency, you honestly didn’t even think about getting your wounds treated first. Honestly speaking, you didn’t even notice you had small wounds. Though they were only scratches, it still needed to be disinfected. It was only when Kirishima stated it with slight panic in his voice that you noticed.

“Ah! (Name)! Why didn’t you go to the hospital to get that treated?”

You smiled, as hard as it was, you tried your best “There’s really nothing to worry about, I can just treat this with First Aid”

You retreated to the locker rooms and got the first aid, silently mending your wounds alone until a loud knock came from outside

“Oi”

Taking a deep breath, you stood up, the bandage still wrapped loosely on your forearms and answered the door. Putting on another fake smile, you grinned

“Yo!”

“Don’t fucking Yo me, get out here, look how shitty those bandages are wrapped around you. You wanna get infected?” Bakugo nagged

“Ah! No it’s fine—“

His glares made you shut up and simply comply with his request. He dragged you towards inside the office and made you sit on his chair

“Wh—“

“Tch stop fucking complaining and seat, dammit”

The way he handled your wounds with utmost care, like you were such a fragile being, made you want to cry again. Soon, another woman will experience this. You weren’t special to him. Maybe you were, but not in the sense you wanted. Much like Kirishima and the others, you were simply a dear friend to him.

Just a friend

His phone suddenly started ringing, you wouldn’t notice it but Bakugo felt his blood turn cold. He knew exactly who was calling. He immediately snatched his phone before you could take a peek who the Caller ID was.

Sighing loudly, Bakugo answered the call

“What? I told you never to call me unless it’s an emergency, right?” He snarled

“You’re mean Katsuki-n, I’m already at the restaurant! Where are you?”

You dreaded to hear that overly sweet voice, it made you want to throw up, further more apparently Bakugo had a date, what the heck was he doing taking his time with you then? Slowly standing up from the office chair, Bakugo’s other hand slammed on the sidearm of it, trapping you. His glare was on-point again. You wondered what was he so pissed off about? Pouting slightly, you sunk back to the chair

“I’m still doing shit, who told you be there so damn early?! Also I told you not to call me by my first name! WE'RE NOT FUCKING CLOSE”

Your eyes widened a bit, a little bit of pride welling up inside you as you remembered how in their meet ups, Bakugo would always be there earlier than you and how he had no problem whatsoever when one day the way you called him suddenly changed from Bakugo to Katsuki

“Eh? More important than me?”

Unconsciously, Bakugo licked the upper part of his lips as his gaze went to you, staring at the reports on his desk completely unaware of his eyes. He smirked

“Damn right bitch, a lot more important than you”

Your eyes widened, eyes immediately meeting his. You were about to retort but his hands were quick on your mouth

“Anyways, I’ll fucking be there in an hour, don’t be fucking annoying”

With that, Bakugo hung up, not even waiting for the girl to reply. He removed his hand from your mouth.

“Don’t fucking talk, I’m gonna be found out”

You looked to the side, unable to meet his gaze, the blush spreading like wildfire on your face.

“You have no delicacy, Katsuki” You commented and Bakugo couldn’t help but chuckle

“What the heck did you expect from me?” He paused for a bit “Work comes first”

And just like that, your new budding hope was crushed. Of course… Even you were considered a load to him.

“There, done, next time I’m coming with you on patrols” He said, standing up and walking away from you, carrying the first aid with him “Go home”

You felt despair. This bitter feeling was becoming too much now. You stood up and hurried out, going straight for the locker room and changing out of your hero clothes. You wanted to go home as soon as you can. Everything was piling up and it was becoming too much for her to handle.

Next time I’m coming with you on patrols

You gritted your teeth. First the marriage, then he suddenly doubts your strength to do things alone. Slowly… everything you’d ever done to build a good relationship with Bakugo was slowly crumbling. Grabbing your bag, you ran out of the building, ignoring Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari’s shout of concern.

On the other locker room, Bakugo was cherishing the feel of your lips on his hand, bringing it close to his mouth, he tried to feel as much as he can from the past sensation. He heard the others calling out your name so he went outside to see what the commotion was, only to find the entrance door sliding to close

“What’re you idiots yelling at?”

“Ah, (Name) suddenly ran outside, she seemed like in a real hurry, I mean she didn’t even bid goodbye to us like she always does” Sero explained and Bakugo just stood there before staring at his hand and clenching it.

You didn’t even bother waiting for him like you always do

Hell finish this mission as fast as he can before he loses you.

At the train, on the walk home, you kept your head hung low until you’ve reached your apartment. Closing the door, your body slid down on the door as you finally, finally let everything out. So much had happened in one day that it was too much for you.

Bakugo Katsuki was going to get married… not to you

Another woman will be on the receiving end of his affections… not yo

He’s beginning to doubt your skills… that’s on you

You cried and cried, not caring about anything else in the world. You kept at it until your body gave up and eventually you fell asleep on the entrance. You had a short unpleasant dream however, it was a dream where Bakugo kept walking forward and no matter how much you ran, how much you yell out his name, he didn’t stop, he didn’t even look at you, it was like you weren’t even there, but when another woman was right behind you, unable to walk by herself, Bakugo turned around and past by you, carrying the girl in his arms, laughing and smiling without a care in the world as he left you behind once more.

You woke up from then on, feeling your entire body cold as a result of sleeping at the entrance. You didn’t bother standing up yet though. Your mind was too busy rethinking the dream. You clenched your hands near your chest and gritted your teeth as another wave of tears threatened to spill.

You’ve decided.

For the first time, you were going to kill these feelings and stand by his side as one of his best friends. You’ll take what you can. You’ll kill it over and over again, no matter how many times if it means you’ll be with him longer. It pains to admit it, but you feel like you can’t continue working under him if you let your one-sided feelings continue and you can’t have that. You can’t bear it, thinking of living a life without Bakugo in it, atleast as a friend and a sidekick, you will still be there at his side. You just need to be there by his side… Be satisfied with that…

“…Atleast… let me be selfish one last time… before I kill off this feelings” You muttered, feeling sleep overcome you

#bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #mha #bnha #dynamight #mutual pining #bakusquad and dekusquad are greatwingmans #misunderstandings #bakugo will not give you up #explosive boi

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nobodyfamousposts · 4 years

Text

Miracle Queen Aftermath

Because there is a disappointing lack of focus or depth for the aftermath of Miracle Queen in canon, I have made my own.

Be warned of: Chloe salt. A lot of it. Chloe faces consequences for things.

Some Bustier salt. Some Adrien being called out on things (but he gets better).

Enjoy!

In the weeks following the Miracle Queen incident, a lot had happened.

Hawk Moth had increased his power, and was now able to summon akumas and amoks at the same time.

Master Fu was gone and now Ladybug found herself the official Guardian of the Miraculous—along with the Miracle Box, kwamis, and duties that entails.

Marinette had resolved to let go of her crush on Adrien, and to support him and Kagami in their new relationship together.

And Chloe had been arrested and would now be going on trial for assisting a terrorist.

It was that last bit of news that had caused the most commotion in Paris and the world at large. What people would have dismissed as simply another akuma attack turned into a much greater matter when accusations started to be made about Chloe helping the super villain intentionally. This was soon backed by multiple eyewitness accounts and further proven by leaked video evidence showing Chloe not only attempting to grab a butterfly for herself after she was de-akumatized but even negotiating with the terrorist before the incident in which she betrayed the heroes of Paris and revealed the identities of most of the team.

To say that the people of Paris were outraged was putting it mildly. People were akumatized over it. Chloe was in a secured facility where she had armed guards around to watch her just as much as they were there to protect her. New legislation was being considered to specifically address willingly aiding supervillains. The backlash was so severe that many were calling the mayor’s own position into question.

After all, if his daughter could do all of that, who was to say that he wasn’t also in Hawk Moth’s pocket?

For Mayor Andre, his hands were tied. While he had covered for his daughter and her selfishness in the past, this was one thing he couldn’t overlook. Not when it brought his position as mayor under scrutiny. And certainly not when it opened a probe into his own dealings.

None of this was helped either by the multitude of witnesses of Chloe‘s past behavior. In particular, her many victims over the years.

And there were a lot.

Now that Chloe was actually being held accountable for something, it seemed to have opened a floodgate of outcries as the many people she tormented finally felt able to air their grievances. They came out on TV, on social media, on radio. Stories littered the air and internet of the horrors of dealing with this single teenage girl.

“She tried to cheat during this designing competition. She apparently stole some other girl’s hat design and tried to pass it off as her own.”

“She was the reason the mayor tried to shut down my ice skating rink! To build another gym! Paris has enough gyms! Why couldn’t she just go to one of those?”

“She had her dad shut down Clara Nightingale’s music video and got her akumatized just because she didn’t get to play Ladybug. We waited in that line for HOURS and didn’t get chosen either, but no one else threw a fit over it.”

“She shoved a giant signed poster of Adrien Agreste professing his love to her in my friend’s face just to make her cry! I found out after the fact that he didn’t even know about it!”

“Our entire school was punished for someone pulling the fire alarm except for her because she threatened our principal. So while the rest of us were having to clean up the school, she spent the entire time insulting and making fun of us.“

“Knowing her, she probably pulled the fire alarm in the first place.”

“She tried to crash a train! I don’t think I can emphasize that enough: she tried to crash a train!“

“Chloe Bourgeois joined up with Hawk Moth? Can’t say it’s a shock.”

“Yeah, given how many akumas she caused, I’d been wondering if she hadn’t been working with him all along.”

It wasn’t that unbelievable to the populous. Nor did anyone feel particularly sympathetic towards her for her current situation. Some might have for lack of knowing her, but Chloe had carved herself a special place in the memories and hearts of nearly every Parisian. There was nobody who didn’t know of her or have some experience with her by this point. So when it came out that she was arrested and facing criminal charges, the response was…rather telling.

Practically everyone was calling loved ones as soon as they heard, resulting in high phone and internet traffic. The Ladyblog crashed after making the announcement. Several people threw parties. People over the internet started coming up with a list of “Things We Will Be Allowed To Do Once Chloe Is In Prison”, with a count that currently rested at 139 and was rising quickly. One guy bought 500 cupcakes and just started passing them out to people on the street singing a jaunty little tune from some late 1930’s cult classic American movie. The school had closed down for a couple of days due to several teachers calling out sick—possibly with hangovers from celebrating a bit too hard. Various Queen-related hashtags and memes were trending with each seeming to fight for the top spot of most used. #let her eat cake was currently in the lead. And Mr. Ramier somehow orchestrated a 21 pigeon salute. On Chloe’s rooftop.

As it was, nobody expressed surprise when it came out that she worked with a supervillain. Many were disappointed, shaking their heads and saying “if only something had been done sooner” or blaming the parents and teachers and other adults in her life. Most were angry, mainly that things had been allowed to get this far and that they hadn’t been acted on earlier—particularly after the train incident.

But no. Nobody was surprised.

Except, perhaps, Marinette herself.

Still reeling from the events of Miracle Queen and the aftermath of…well…everything involved, Marinette had been questioning herself. Constantly. Incessantly. Going over and over in her mind all the things she could have done differently. Blaming herself for all the major blows to their team.

She lost her mentor. Her allies have been compromised. Chloe, one of her former allies, chose to betray them all. Hawk Moth had the grimoire now. Marinette didn’t have a grimoire. Fu had no memories.

And it was all because of her mistakes.

Last time, the prospect of never having to deal with Chloe again had been a relief.

Now…it was background static to her.

She could barely hear the announcements and cheers over the endless cycle of her own thoughts.

I should have tried harder. I should have been more aware. I failed them all. This is because of me.

So while everyone else in Paris was celebrating, de-stressing, or just outright reveling in the news, Marinette was grieving. With the help of the kwamis and Chat Noir, she had been trying to come to terms with what happened and figure out the next plan of action.

Hawk Moth had changed the game, so she needed to step up hers.

The days seemed to have passed in a blur. Between working with the kwamis, trying to recreate and retranslate the grimoire, and simply trying to deal with the remnants of Fu’s life that he had left to her, Marinette had barely even kept up with the current state of things in Paris. Or in particular, Chloe.

Not until the day came when Bustier made an announcement.

Chloe‘s trial date was finally decided. And though she didn’t say as such, it was clear that the case against her was pretty solid. There was video evidence. Eye witness accounts. And Chloe’s own words and actions working against her.

The odds were not in her favor on this. Even if her parents did try to help her, she wasn’t going to get off this time. Aside from getting the best lawyers money by, there really wasn’t much they could do.

Maybe that was why Bustier had tried to step in?

“Now class, I have received word that they are moving to the next step with Chloe’s hearing. Right now, they are looking for character witnesses for Chloe’s defense.” The kind teacher explained, causing Marinette to snap to awareness and realize just what was going on. Partly because of the mention of Chloe and her court case.

But mostly because of the sudden dead silence in the class…

To be fair, she wasn’t sure she could say anything either. Marinette felt her throat go dry and her muscles tense. There was a sudden tightness in her lungs that while she could breathe, it felt like she was suffocating. Why was Bustier bringing this up now?

The teacher smiled, seemingly unaware of the sudden tension and Marinette’s slow drowning. “I know this has been a difficult experience knowing that one of your classmates is facing such a trial. And Chloe will certainly need support. So I thought it would be kind if everyone wrote a letter supporting her for the hearing coming up, so the courts can hear about Chloe and understand more about who she is.”

Silence. Dead silence.

Maybe Bustier herself picked up on the growing tension, as she proceeded to move to passing out papers to the class. “I thought it would make for a nice project, so I will give you all the forms explaining the requirements. Take some time to think over what positive things you want to say about Chloe. If you have any questions, please feel free to come talk to me.”

After that, she quickly left the room, citing the desire to let them have this free time to work on the letters.

The class remained silent for a good minute after she left. Almost as if they were questioning if she would return. Or perhaps if she was listening.

Then—

“‘Think about what positive things we want to say about Chloe?’ Well that’s easy!” Alix spoke blithely, curling the paper she received into a ball. “Nothing!” She shouted and tossed it over her shoulder. “Assignment done!”

Murmurs filled the classroom. Some sounded uncertain, but most seemed to be in agreement. Or at least expressing distaste for the assignment.

“Is she serious?”

“Does she really expect us to?”

“Of all the worst ideas...”

Marinette could hear them, but couldn’t seem to acknowledge anything around her. And furthermore, she couldn’t make herself respond.

Chloe‘s trial was set for a point in the next few weeks, and at this point there was no denying just what type of person she was. If anything, this was probably the first time that anyone was allowed to actually speak their mind about the girl, and they were all reveling in it. Her classmates in particular.

Marinette couldn’t quite bring herself to.

Sure, Chloe has tried to blackmail her more than once.

And damaged her gift to their teacher.

And attempted to frame her a few times.

And stolen her hat design.

And her diary.

And a Miraculous.

And all of the other Miraculous.

But...she had been doing better for a while there, hadn’t she?

Didn’t she only betray them all in the end because Marinette had chosen Kagami over her for her own selfish reasons? Didn’t Hawk Moth only capture Fu because of her own mistake? Hadn’t Chloe only revealed everyone else because she felt betrayed? Couldn’t Marinette have done more to prevent Chloe turning?

Wasn’t a simple letter on Chloe’s virtues the least she could do?

So why...

Why couldn’t she seem to bring herself to?

Kim frowned, looking at his paper in worry. “We’re not going to get graded on this, are we?”

Nathaniel huffed. “I’ll willingly take the failing grade any day.”

“Hear hear!”

“But if it’s a grade…” Max murmured to himself. Out of everyone in the class, he took his grades the most seriously, so this was no doubt a difficult choice for him. He looked at his paper with a rather conflicted expression for a minute before sighing and turning it face-down on the desk. “No. It’s an impossible task in the first place.”

Kim rested a hand on Max’s shoulder in sympathy. It wasn’t that he cared as much about grades as Max did, but it was clear that the fallout of refusing could be more troubling for the genius who took his academic performance so seriously. If Bustier did make it a mandatory assignment with a grade, it’d be horribly unfair of her.

“What was it Chloe said before?” Ivan asked, looking over his page with a glare. “Once a monster, always a monster? I guess she’d know more than anyone.”

Mylene hugged him. “You’re not a monster. You never chose to be.”

“None of us did.” Nino agreed.

“Nobody did except her.” Alix bit out.

Mumbles of agreement came from the rest of the class. It was clear that none of them were on board with having anything to do with Chloe, much less try to help her with her current legal woes.

There was a large part of Marinette that agreed with them. But even so, there was also a large part of her that insisted she had to do the right thing and help.

She knew she should say something. She was supposed to say something here. Because it was her fault, after all. She was Ladybug. She had to be the better person. Shouldn’t she?

“Marinette? Girl, are you okay?” Alya asked, drawing her attention. “You look a bit pale.”

It was too much. It was suffocating.

“I think I need some air. Excuse me.”

She didn’t know if anyone watched her leave the classroom. She hadn’t even noticed if anyone had chosen to follow her.

Not until…

“Marinette, are you all right?”

She spun around in surprise.

“Oh! Adrien! Hey! Hi! Hello!” She blabbered. Why was he here? Did he come out after her? Why? She didn’t need this right now! She struggled enough with him under normal circumstances, she wasn’t sure she could handle being alone with him now. Her stress over everything was bad enough, but having him approach her set her anxiety skyrocketing.

“Hey,” he replied, smiling at her—and oh, what a beautiful smile. On any other day, it would ease her worries and make her want to swoon, but right now, it just made her more nervous.

“Are you all right?” He asked again. “You didn’t look so well in class.”

“Y-yeah. Just…” she sighed. “I just have a lot on my mind. With…you know…everything.”

He nodded in understanding. “I know what you mean.”

She smiled. She could always count on Adrien to be a calming supportive friend. He was always so sweet and reliable. If anyone could understand or relate to the chaotic mix of emotions she was feeling, he could.

He sighed in sympathy. “Poor Chloe.”

She froze.

“Chloe?”

“Well, yeah.” He replied, like it was obvious. “I mean, she did a bad thing, but now she’s going through the worst experience of her life. One that could ruin her future. And people are glad about it!” He shook his head. “It’s just too cruel.”

Marinette just stared.

He wasn’t wrong. But…that was what he was worried about?

She couldn’t fault him of course, because Adrien was always so kind and considerate and of course he’d feel for Chloe but…something about this just…pulled at something inside of her and was choking it.

“Chloe is already suffering enough and it feels like no one wants to help her. You heard them.” He gestured back to the classroom. “We’re being given an opportunity to make a difference for her and they’re all just saying she deserves it. Chloe is alone and hurting and they want her to hurt more.”

She felt a denial on her lips but couldn’t give voice to it.

“Everyone is so great with each other. It’s always just Chloe who is kind of on the outside. I know you’ve seen it.”

She hadn’t, actually. Because it was never Chloe on the outside looking in, it was Chloe looking down on them. Whether it was because she genuinely thought she was better or because it made her feel better to do so.

He hesitated for a moment before looking at her. And there was something in his expression that told her he was about to ask something. A gut feeling told her that it was going to be something she wouldn’t like.

“Do you think you could talk to them?” He asked her, looking so sad and despondent that she just wanted to hug him and agree to anything to make that look go away.

“M-me?”

He wanted her to convince her classmates to help Chloe?

“I know you and Chloe have had your differences, but you’ve been able to see past her front. And you’ve done a lot to help her before.” He smiled. “Like the party you threw for her after she became Queen Bee.”

A traitorous voice asked if giving her a second chance with the Miraculous she had previously stolen wasn’t enough? Why did she have to feel bad for her leaving and throw her a party to make her feel special?

“Chloe really needs the help right now. And you’re always so good about that sort of thing.” He looked to her imploringly. “Do you think you could try to get them to at least give Chloe a hand? I don’t know what impact it’ll have in her hearing, but any little bit helps, right?”

Go back in there? With the tension and the suffocation to try and convince her classmates to help when she was questioning whether to herself?

But she had to, right? After all, couldn’t she have prevented this if she had acted sooner? Couldn’t she have helped sooner instead of being focused on her own petty problems? Isn’t that what Ladybug should do?

“Please, Marinette? They listen to you. If you asked them to, I’m sure they’d be willing to at least try.”

Her vision started to dim, seeming to tunnel in on Adrien and his sad and hopeful expression. Her thoughts crying about CHLOE and poor CHLOE and how hurt CHLOE was and how it was her fault for CHLOE—

“I—”

“Oh no! No, you do NOT.”

Marinette suddenly found herself torn away from Adrien by a sudden grab of her arm and pulling sensation. She felt as if she was pushed out of the way by a fierce gale. Like a raging whirlwind had spun her around and behind it.

That whirlwind’s name was Alya.

“How dare you? How dare you try to make my girl be responsible for this!”

Marinette floundered because she had not expected this and oh no now her best friend looked ready to tear her crush’s head off!

“Alya, we don’t have to do this!” She pleaded, trying to calm the other girl down.

“Oh, we most certainly do.” Came another voice. And sure enough, the rest of the class had stepped out as well. All of them looked in varying ranges of frustrated and that frustration was clearly directed at her and Adrien.

Or rather just Adrien, as Marinette discovered when Rose and Juleka pulled her aside and out of their direct line of sight. They were all looking at Adrien, and those were not nice or understanding expressions.

Oh no! This was a disaster! Now everyone was upset and she should have just agreed or said something sooner!

Completely unaware of Marinette’s inner turmoil, Alya stepped forward and jabbed at Adrien in the chest. “You are not going to make my girl feel bad and try to help someone who has never done a single nice thing for her or anyone.” She spat out, forcing him to back away.

Adrien held his hands up in a placating gesture. “Come on, Chloe is not that bad.“

“Not that bad?” Nino exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief at his friend’s words. “Adrien, Chloe betrayed us!“

“She took over Paris!”

“She turned us into her servants!“

“Not to mention the other things…”

“Do we really have to name each time?” Alya started to count on her fingers. “Chloe CHOSE to take the Miraculous for herself instead of returning it. She CHOSE to transform in front of everyone and reveal her identity to the world. She CHOSE to try and crash a train, risking the lives of EVERYONE on board just to show off. She CHOSE to run off with it when Ladybug tried to take it back.”

“She also chose to continue being horrible to everyone even after Ladybug gave her a second chance.” Nathaniel added, bitterly. “She didn’t get better after becoming Queen Bee. It just became another thing for her to lord over people.”

Alya nodded. “And when Ladybug made it clear to her that she wasn’t going to be Queen Bee again, she felt ENTITLED to something that was never hers in the first place. And because of that, she made the active, knowing, and willful choice to work with Hawk Moth.”

“And out all of us while she was at it.” Kim added. “Turning us into her personal ‘guard’. Making us fight our heroes against our will.” He shuddered. “I don’t know if you were hit by those things, Adrien, but it was NOT a pleasant experience having your body turned into a puppet.”

Adrien wanted to argue that he understood full well, but that was only as Chat. He couldn’t say that here.

Unaware of his inner turmoil, Alya continued. “So no, we are not going to forgive Chloe. We are not going to try and ‘get along’ with her because her own poor choices have led her to have a ‘rough time’.”

Adrien grew nervous at the way the others drew closer to Alya as she spoke, clearly backing her statements as she continued.

“We are not going to defend her or speak up on her behalf to the entirety of Paris she ALSO betrayed. Whatever consequences Chloe has to face—quite possibly the first ones she will EVER have faced in her LIFE—are nothing less than what she deserves.”

“Yeah!” Came the exclamations from the rest of the crowd.

“She didn’t know what she was doing!” Adrien argued.

“Not know what she was doing?! Adrien, she willingly accepted an akuma! She used it to take control of us and revealed us to Hawk Moth!” Alya exclaimed. “That’s just—how can you even justify that?”

With as angry as Alya was, any lesser or wiser man would have backed off.

Adrien…well, she certainly would never call him unwise, so it had to be because he was more strong-willed than that to be willing to stand his ground here.

“Hawk Moth was the one who manipulated Chloe!” He insisted. “And he’s the one who got away scott free and left Chloe to take the fall.”

“And whose fault was that?” Alya countered. “Chloe HELPED him. He only got as far as he did because of her and he only got away because she helped him!”

“Don’t you think this is cruel?” He argued back. “Yes, Chloe was wrong, but she was already called out for what she did by Ladybug and Chat Noir. The entire city hates her. Isn’t that enough?”

“NO!” Alya shouted. “No, it isn’t! Because Chloe has always gotten away with her antics in the past but you’re actually trying to get us to let Chloe off for a legitimate crime here! If Chloe is going to prison, it’s only because she deserves it!”

Around them, several of the others in the class nodded in agreement.

“How can you say that?” Adrien demanded. “Chloe made a mistake and she’s suffering for it! All this time, she’s felt left out and cut off and this only further emphasizes that for her! She’s been alone all this time and now she’s alone and miserable!”

“Then why should that be OUR problem?” Alya questioned, raising her hands in exasperation. “Why are you trying to MAKE it our problem?!”

Adrien drew back, looking genuinely hurt.

"But treating someone badly never made them become a good person."

"Yeah, because letting Chloe have her way all this time has totally made strides in her path to becoming a good person." Alix called out sarcastically.

"If anything, it's made her worse." Max added. "She's gone from simply causing akumas to intentionally becoming one."

“But—”

Alya cut him off. “But nothing, Adrien! You have to have some gall to be trying to get us to make nice with Chloe after she betrayed us all! And here I thought your little lecture to Marinette to make her feel bad for being relieved that Chloe was leaving Paris was pretty hard to beat.”

Nino blanched at that. “You did what?” He turned on Adrien. “Dude! You know that happened after Chloe tried to crash that train!”

“She was just trying to prove herself.” Adrien weakly argued.

“PEOPLE were on there!” Nino bit out. “They could have DIED because Chloe was showing off! And you got on to MARINETTE? Where was this attitude with Chloe?”

“I’ve called her out!”

“Yeah, one time.” Alya groused. “AFTER the rest of us had spent the better part of the day cleaning up after HER mess. Which she never apologized for or admitted to doing, by the way.”

“And in response, she threw a party.” Juleka muttered.

“It was a nice party, sure.” Rose added quickly.

Alya though shook her head. “But being a good hostess is nowhere near the same thing as being a good person. And before the night was over, you rolled over for her and she went RIGHT back to acting as she always had.”

“She made Mylene cry.” Ivan glared. “She made Mylene cry and you just laughed.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“You said it yourself: ‘she’ll never change’. Except you said that like it was a good thing.”

Marinette looked back and forth between the two, everything inside her screaming at her to help. But she was completely lost on which one she was supposed to help. Because Adrien had a point about what Chloe’s going through but Alya was right about what Chloe did and she needed to do the “right thing” and help Chloe but why did everything Alya say resonate so strongly with her and bring such a feeling of vindication—

No. She was getting distracted. She needed to help. And right now, it was Adrien against the rest of the class.

But Alya was worked up. And Adrien was looking past her to Marinette, eyes begging for help and still so hopeful that she would step in. And Chloe was still in prison and Marinette could fix everything if she just tried so why can’t she try?

“Alya,” Marinette tried. “You told me to give Chloe a chance before after the fire alarm incident, remember? You said we were a lot alike.”

“That was to get you to go to a party!” Alya shouted, making Marinette step back in surprise. “I never meant it like this!”

She stepped forward and took Marinette by the shoulders, holding her sternly.

“Marinette, you are nothing like Chloe! Not where it counts! Yeah, you both can be short sighted when it comes to trying for what you want, but you at least notice and CARE how other people feel! And when you make a mistake, you at least TRY to make it right!”

She shook her head.

“Chloe…doesn’t.”

“She doesn’t try to.” Alix cut in. “If Chloe was feeling sad and lonely, that was pretty much her own fault.”

Adrien looked like he wanted to argue, but Alix didn’t even give him a chance.

“It wasn’t like we left her out. We went well out of our way to try and befriend her. We invited her to things. We tried to help her. Hell, you said it yourself—Marinette has tried to help her more than anybody! And each and every time, Chloe only took what we offered like it was something we owed her but that she was also too good for. I mean, I certainly can’t recall a time she ever thanked me. Can you?” She asked, turning to the other classmates.

All around them, there were murmurs of agreement. Maybe a couple hesitated as they tried to recall a time—one single moment of kindness on Chloe’s part only to come up empty.

“Chloe’s had a hard time.” Adrien insisted. “You know how her parents are—”

“Oh yes, her ‘Daddy the Mayor’.” Alix rolled her eyes. “Like we don’t hear enough about him every time it comes to something Chloe wants. She only threatens us or anyone with him every other day.”

Adrien shook his head and tried to explain. “It’s only because her parents aren’t there for her emotionally.”

“Again, not seeing how this is our problem? Or justification for anything she’s done to us? Or how this excuses her willingly helping a supervillain?”

“Because we’re her classmates!” He argued back, gesturing to all of them. “Out of everyone, we’ve all had the most interactions with her.”

“All of which were negative.” Came a cutting remark, followed by grumbling.

“There were good times, too!” Adrien insisted with a frown. His eyes spanned over the assembled classmates before they came to rest on one in particular. “Kim, you have to have seen Chloe’s good side. You liked her before.”

“Before.” Kim replied, emphasizing the word and the timeframe it referred to. “But being humiliated and her sending out that pic to everyone in school kind of crushed that crush.”

“How did she even have our numbers?” Ivan asked.

“But there had to be something that made you like her in the first place.” Adrien encouraged.

The taller boy shrugged, uncertain and uncaring. “Maybe so, but was it something that was really there? Or something I just wanted to see? Because I’m looking back and quite frankly, I don’t know what past me was thinking.”

“Wow, that’s deep, man.” Nathaniel whispered.

“Thanks!”

Seeing Nathaniel gave Adrien an idea. “Wait, Nathaniel! Didn’t Chloe let you put her in your comic?”

“Forced us to, more like.” The artist bit back. “And even when we tried to fit her, we got nothing but complaints from her. It was no wonder we never got past the initial concept art for her character.”

Adrien winced. “It was an attempt, at least?”

Nathaniel wasn’t buying it. “A poor one.”

“She’s been trying to be better.” Adrien was getting increasingly frustrated. This was not how he was expecting this argument to go. “Rose? What about you? You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

After all, Rose was sweet and caring, always willing to see the good in anyone. Surely she would have something nice about Chloe!

Juleka frowned at him over his focus on her girlfriend and moved to stand beside her. “Don’t push her.”

Still he tried.

“Rose?”

“I’m sorry, Adrien.” Rose said, hugging herself. “But Chloe has done nothing but hurt people. And going out of our way to protect her has only ended up biting us.”

That wasn’t true. Not...all the time at least. There had to have been at least one instance where she did the right thing!

Adrien brightened in realization. “Didn’t she catch you when you fell after being deakumatized during Heroes Day?”

The blonde girl frowned. “Well, yes…but she wasn’t very nice about it. Even though I did the same for her before.”

“Rose, come on…”

She shook her head. “I put myself at risk to help Chloe when she was being chased by zombies, and only got turned into one for my efforts. Chloe never appreciated it. She never thanked me. She didn’t even do anything to help when we were trying to keep her safe!”

“We all ended up kissing zombies because of her.” Alix accused, crossing her arms and looking particularly annoyed. “And not just because she caused the akuma in the first place.”

“Why are you pushing this?” Mylene asked. “We’ve been asked. We said no. Isn’t that enough?”

“But—”

“Adrien, you’ve got a good heart.” Ivan started.

“Easy for him when he’s not the one who has to be on the receiving end of Chloe’s tantrums.” Alix cut in, clearly sounding bitter.

“You’ve got a good heart.” Ivan repeated, sending Alix a look that asked her to back off. “But Chloe…doesn’t.”

Adrien shook his head, remaining insistent. “That’s why she needs help.”

“If she needs help,” Mylene spoke, “It should come from her parents. Her teachers. Any of the adults in her life. She has plenty of adults who are fully capable of helping her. It should not be expected to come from the kids she’s spent years tormenting.”

She gestured to herself and the others around her. “And that’s what she’s been doing: tormenting us.”

“To great joy, might I add.” Max droned.

“She hasn’t been cruel to everyone.” Adrien muttered.

That brought out a backlash of outrage.

“She outted my crush!”

“She insulted Mylene’s cooking and made her cry!”

“She got Aurore akumatized and nearly caused Paris to be incinerated in a volcano!”

“She tried to push Mylene out of the lead role of our movie!”

“She locked Juleka in the restroom!”

Wait...

But that hadn’t been Chloe. She had stayed with the class at the time. The one who did do it was...

He glanced around until he saw her—a redhead in the background behind the rest of the class. She looked anxious and uncomfortable, and almost seemed to be trying to edge around the class to get to the stairs.

Adrien did seem aware. Or rather, he was focused on the fact she was there.

“Sabrina? What about you? Chloe was your friend!”

Of course she would help! Because who better than her own best friend to speak on her behalf?

The rest of the class broke into mutters as they realized the same.

But Sabrina...bit her lip and looked away. Refusing to even meet Adrien’s gaze.

“Sabrina?” Marinette tried, concerned about this reaction. Sabrina had been Chloe’s best friend—or at least the closest thing she could have to a friend. “Minion” or “Servant” would be more accurate. “Slave” would be more honest.

The girl had been Chloe’s only real fan and follower, and had assisted Chloe in some of her worst plots.

Marinette had briefly seen another side to her. A girl who was so desperate for friendship that she latched onto even the slightest bit of kindness and went to the greatest of extremes to appease the “friend” so they wouldn’t leave her. It was no wonder she had fallen in with Chloe—someone like that was perfect for the spoiled girl. Compared to her, Marinette’s anxieties and need to please were nothing.

And Chloe had pretty much been her world for years.

What must she be feeling now?

“Should we really be getting her opinion?” Ivan whispered. “You know how she and Chloe were…”

“Well, if anyone would have anything positive to tell the courts about Chloe, it would be her.” Mylene whispered back.

Sabrina took a breath and spoke quickly—almost shouting in her rush.

“I’m sorry but my therapist said I shouldn’t!”

That got a surprise. The rest of the classmates glanced to each other before looking back to the girl. Adrien in particular looked shell-shocked. Marinette couldn’t blame him. She felt the same.

Sabrina for her part seemed to tense up, as if ready to defend herself from the rest of the class.

Marinette stepped forward. “Sabrina? Are…you okay?”

The other girl shook her head, looking close to tears.

“After word got out what Chloe did, the police had to question me about Chloe. They were able to see that I wasn’t involved, but they…didn’t like what I told them about our relationship. Afterwards, my dad decided to have me see a counselor and she…has been telling me things that I hadn’t really considered.” She curled in on herself. “They all think I should stay away from Chloe and anything directly related to her…for my own health.”

Adrien frowned at that. “But don’t you want to help Chloe?”

Sabrina jumped. “Of course, I do!”

“Hold up, Adrien!” Nino stepped in. “She just said police took her in because of Chloe!”

“But they let her go…”

“It still happened!” Mylene argued. “It doesn’t matter how nice they are, how innocent you know you are, or if you’re released in the end, it’s still terrifying when it happens!”

"And it only happened to her because of Chloe." Alya added.

Rose, in her infinite sweetness, reached out to take Sabrina’s hand in support. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Sabrina sobbed and covered her face. Aside from Rose, no one else really attempted to comfort her. Most of them simply watched her, pitying her current state. But they also remembered how complicit she had been in Chloe’s schemes, so they were conflicted. While they did feel bad for her current situation, there was a part of most of them that noted how she had brought it upon herself by being Chloe‘s lackey for so long, so their sympathy was limited.

Perhaps it was out of awkwardness, or maybe an attempt to give some respect for Sabrina’s privacy that the classmates turned away from her and instead focused on the heart of the argument.

“Man...” Nino tried. “Maybe you should let it go?” Though it was clear from his tone that he knew it wasn’t likely.

Because Adrien had still not given up, it seemed.

He looked around between of the classmates, growing more desperate. But those that remained either looked at him straight on as if daring him to call on them or looked away. A few of them even closed ranks as if to block his view of certain others. It was clear none of them were willing to help him on this.

None of them except…

“Marinette.” He called out, drawing her gaze to him instantly. “You understand, don’t you?”

She bit her lip. “I…”

“Back off, Adrien.” Kim said, giving the other boy an angry frown as he stood in front of her to shield her from his gaze. “It’s not on Marinette to help Chloe.”

“Yeah! She suffered more than any of us!“ Ivan shouted.

“She has been Chloe’s main target for years.” Nathaniel agreed. “She is the last person who is obligated to help Chloe now.“

Adrien winced at the harshness of their words and in their tone. “I just thought that Marinette could help. Like before.”

“Just because she could doesn’t mean she should have had to.” Alya countered. “She’s a teenager. Dealing with Chloe should have been the job of adults. Her parents. Bustier. Damocles. Any one of them should have done something—and if they can’t, the courts will. It’s their job. Not ours.”

“And getting her to help you wouldn’t make a difference anyway even if you had convinced us.” Max said, shifting his glasses. “Chloe helped Hawk Moth. There is nothing we could say that could undo that. And even if we did try, we would either be guilty of committing perjury or aiding in a conspiracy.”

“What?” Adrien jerked in surprise.

“The best we can do is be character witnesses.” Mylene explained. “But this is a court and we can’t claim something that isn’t true! We can’t say anything nice about Chloe when she hasn’t done anything nice!”

Max nodded and shifted his glasses. “Furthermore, our testimonies—even if they were positive—would only serve to create a narrative about Chloe and the type of person she is. They can’t explain away the current evidence against her.”

He rubbed the back of his head. He knew there were issues, but he also knew Chloe. He knew what she could be like. He knew she was a good person deep down. “I know she’s made some mistakes—”

“No.” Alya stated sharply. “Calling them ‘Mistakes’ implies that her actions were unintentional. ‘Mistakes’ implies that people were harmed by accident. ‘Mistakes’ implies that she would have any point learned from them. They weren’t mistakes, Adrien. They were willful acts of cruelty every single time.”

Ivan shook his head, pityingly. “We can’t save Chloe from this. We have nothing to say in her defense. The kindest thing we can do for her is stay silent.”

“She’s better than you think she is. She threw that party once for everyone, remember? You all went.” Adrien reminded them.

“That only proved that she could throw a party and be a good host, not that she could be a good person. There is a difference.” Nathaniel pointed out.

“Not that Chloe could tell.“ Alix sniped.

Adrien ignored the barb. He had given up on getting any of them to listen and now only had eyes for her. His last hope.

“Marinette….come on…please.”

She hesitated.

Everything in her that was Ladybug and her crush on Adrien and her desire to make people happy and take the high road and give second-third-fourth chances wanted nothing more than to give it to him.

Except...

There was a long pause. No one spoke.

The other classmates have had their say. They were letting Marinette have hers. And she knew in that moment that if she spoke up…if she did as Adrien wished and tried to help Chloe…she knew they would go along with her. It may be more out of respect for Marinette than it would be out of any sort of forgiveness for anything Chloe had done, but it would still help Chloe and it would still make Adrien happy.

…and hadn’t Marinette already done that enough?

“Did you know?” Marinette started, not looking at anyone. “I would have been well within my rights to press charges against Chloe?”

Adrien balked at that.

“She’s stolen from me at least three times now.” She shrugged. “I mean, sure, I wouldn’t have been able to do anything about my diary since she had Sabrina steal it for her, but she did steal my hat design for a competition and I had proof. I could have pressed charges against Chloe and let her face some consequences…but I didn’t.”

She looked up at Adrien. “I also could have pressed charges for what she did to my gift for Madame Bustier. Since she did break into my locker and vandalize my property while it was still technically mine…but I didn’t.

“Adrien.” She spoke almost in monotone, the only sign of her emotions being how she clenched her fists. “Did you know that after the fashion show, my parents and I took a train to get home?”

He furrowed his brows in confusion. What did that have to do with anything?

“It was the same train Chloe took control of and nearly caused to crash.”

Several gasps resounded around them. Apparently this had not been common knowledge.

“Even if Chloe could have bought her way out of any consequence for the other things, we all could certainly have had her face some major trouble for that one…” Marinette took a shuddering breath. “But we didn’t.”

Adrien frowned. “I…I see that—”

“No, I don’t think you do.” She cut him off. “Because instead of any of that…rather than hold Chloe accountable at any point, I catered to her. I tried to understand Chloe. I tried to make things nicer for Chloe. I tried to excuse Chloe. Time and again. Just like everyone else. Just like you wanted me to. Just like you’re asking me to now. And what did that get us?”

The more she talked, the more words filled out and she was unable to stop the torrent.

“I defended her from Alya after Madame Bustier was akumatized, and Chloe stole a Miraculous and nearly got my family killed. I helped Chloe bond with her Mom—costing myself any chance at a once in a lifetime opportunity in the process—and Chloe tried to get me banished from Paris just for saying she wasn’t a superhero. I threw Chloe a party to show her some appreciation, and she willingly worked with a supervillain to take over Paris. Just to fuel her ego and because she felt she was owed something that wasn’t hers.”

She tilted her head, considering.

“What is that American saying? Three strikes and you’re out?” Her eyes narrowed. “I have given Chloe more than three chances. I have done nothing BUT give her chances. And clean up after her. And just…try to help her. At no point has she been grateful. At no point did she ever apologize. Or show the slightest bit of remorse for anyone she hurt. Or just…try to do better.”

She stepped forward. Past her classmates. Past Alya, who looked ready to tear into Adrien herself.

“So tell me, Adrien. How much more am I supposed to do? What miracle am I supposed to achieve to help Chloe to be a better person that I haven’t already done?”

“You can just try.” Adrien begged. “Chloe’s alone. She has no one in her corner. You’ve given her chances before! Can’t you find it in your heart to give her another chance this time?”

“Why haven’t you?” Alya demanded.

Adrien drew back in surprise at that.

But the girl wasn’t letting him off. “If you’re so certain Chloe is the victim in all this, then why aren’t you stepping up to help her? Why are you pushing Marinette and the rest of us to do it?”

Alya wrapped an arm around Marinette in support. “If you truly believe Chloe has some sort of inner goodness that only needs the right person to bring it out, then it’s pretty clear Marinette is just not that person. She’s tried enough.”

Alix nodded. “I’m pretty sure she could’ve demolished a brick wall with how many time she’s banged her head against it by this point trying to drag a decent person out of Chloe.”

Others in the class also nodded and gave sounds of agreement to that.

Adrien frowned, lowering his head despondently. “I’m just one person. There’s only so much weight my word will have. I just...I just want to give her the best chance.”

“That’s nice for Chloe, I guess.” Kim muttered. “But not much for us.”

Adrien looked up in surprise. “What do you mean?”

Alya stepped forward, releasing Marinette in the process. “Adrien, why should we as Chloe’s victims have to help protect her? That’s the thing we’re not getting here. WE are the ones she hurt. WE are the ones she betrayed to Hawk Moth. So why are WE supposed to try and save her from her own consequences? Why are you wanting us to?”

Adrien hesitated.

“Can you even imagine what it was like? Being frozen in time. Unable to move or speak? Only able to hear her voice in your head? Feeling your body respond as she’s calling you and being unable to stop?” She clutched her arms, as if trying to hug herself. “Do you have any idea how terrified I was knowing what she was doing to us but being completely unable to stop it? How humiliating it was when she had us bowing to her and calling her our Queen? And then…” She took a breath. “She made us fight our heroes. Ladybug and Chat Noir trusted us to help them and we used the Miraculous they entrusted to us to try and kill them.”

“We were just lucky that they were able to turn the tables on us.” Kim muttered. “I don’t even want to know what would have happened if we had won.”

“Luka still has nightmares.” Juleka whispered. “He won’t talk about it, but he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks.”

Marinette winced. She hadn’t even considered that everyone else could be suffering ramifications of Miracle Queen as well.

“We could have killed them.” Max stated. “Given the nature of the Snake Miraculous’s power, we very well could have more than once for all we know.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t have killed them?” Rose suggested, trying to be positive. “I mean, Chloe wanted all of the Miraculous, right? She probably wanted them as her servants as well.”

Max glared. “I’m pretty sure I attempted to send Chat Noir into space. Even a Miraculous can’t protect someone from that.”

Adrien tried not to wince at the memory. How he managed to even move enough to activate the Miraculous, he still wasn’t sure.

“We fought against them. We never wanted to, but we did.” Alya bit out. “Not even because of Hawk Moth this time, but because of Chloe. And now you are wanting us to just…overlook the trauma of the whole thing to help Chloe after what she did. For something she hasn’t shown even the slightest remorse for.”

She shook her head.

“I know you’re nice, Adrien. But this level of kindness is a cruelty.”

He winced. And it looked like he wanted to argue. But he just…wilted.

“I just…it feels harsh. What’s happening to her. The amount of hate she’s getting. That her entire life could be over.”

That was true. While they felt her current status was well deserved, it was a harsh sentence for anyone. Especially a teenager.

Nathaniel sighed. “Adrien, it is harsh. Maybe cruel. But fact is that she still brought on herself.”

“Isn’t that just victim-blaming though?” Adrien countered, frustrated now. “I mean, Hawk Moth manipulated her! How was that her fault? He’s the one who did it. She was…” He clenched his fists in anger. “Chloe is a victim.”

“No, we are the victims.” Alya insisted, gesturing to herself and the other revealed former heroes. “We were the ones used to fight our heroes. We were the ones who had our identities revealed to the world against our will. And now we are the ones having to live with the results of Chloe‘s choices, just like we always are.“

Adrien looked ready to argue. And maybe he would have, except...

Nino rested a hand on Adrien’s shoulder.

“Adrien. Dude. Just stop. We have enough to deal with and this…this isn’t helping.”

Adrien frowned at that, concerned by his friend’s attitude. “Nino?”

Nino lowered his head. “I wasn’t going to say anything. Really, I was trying not to think about it. But my parents are currently talking with police about their options. Now that I’ve been exposed as one of the temporary heroes, they’re questioning if it’s not safe for us at home anymore. There is a chance of us having to go into protective custody.”

Alya winced at that, drawing attention to her. “My parents have been talking as well. My mom quit her job. She said she doesn’t want to work for someone who would let their daughter do such a thing and put me in danger. She’s looking at drawing me out of school since it was pretty much Chloe‘s base of operations. And since Chloe is the Mayor’s daughter…and Hawk Moth…and just…everything?” She looked away, clearly anxious.

“There’s a chance we may have to move out of Paris altogether.”

Marinette gasped.

Alya looked to the other girl, sad and guilty all in one. “I’m sorry, girl. I guess I’ve been hoping it wouldn’t be an issue. I’ve been trying to talk them out of it, but it’s hard given everything that happened. Currently, the only reason they’re willing to stay is to see through to the end of the trial. But after that…” She shrugged, shaking her head uncertainly. “Who can say?”

“No…” Adrien whispered in shock.

The others in class came closer around her, trying to offer some comfort and reassurances—what little they could give, at least. This was a situation that was clearly beyond them. Marinette herself hugged Alya tightly for all she was worth, and the other girl held her back just as much, neither wanting to be parted.

Adrien, however, remained on the outside looking in. Watching the people Chloe had tormented even before Miracle Queen and realizing just how badly they’ve been hurt by this. It hit him then—for what was perhaps the first time just how much pain Chloe had caused his friends. And how unfair he had been to expect them to simply deal with it.

He stayed the lone person outside of the circle. By this point, did he really deserve to join in the comfort? To try to be the one to give comfort? After what he had tried to push on them all?

After minutes passed, they were finally able to draw away from each other.

“I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner.” Alya told Marinette. “I guess I was just hoping…y’know…that it wasn’t real. Or that it would go away and things would work out on their own.”

Marinette smiled. “No, I understand.”

And she did. That’s exactly what she herself had been doing for the past few weeks as well. Trying to deal with things without really dealing with them. Working without acknowledging just what it all meant because she was scared she would break down and that would be just one more thing Hawk Moth would have won because of this whole mess.

“I was kind of the same way.” She admitted, and it felt like a slight relief to be able to say aloud to someone. “I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you about it.”

She still couldn’t, unfortunately. Not about Ladybug and the kwamis and the Miracle Box.

But…she could talk about Fu. How she lost him. How she feels. She could help support Alya and her classmates and be there for them in the meantime.

She…hadn’t lost everything.

Not yet.

And that was the scary thing…

Adrien gaped at the group. He had thought the trauma was bad enough, and that at least could be worked through. But this...

“I’m sorry. I...I didn’t even realize...”

“Adrien, what Chloe did put a major target on our backs.” Alya explained. “Nobody knows how we became heroes, or that Ladybug was the one to specifically choose us and give us the miraculous to use. Nobody knows WHY we were chosen. It’s not just Hawk Moth, any regular criminal can come after us now in an attempt to get a hold of that power. And we can’t exactly protect ourselves.”

She shrugged helplessly.

“We kind of have enough to worry about with the fallout of Chloe‘s actions. And now you want us to try and protect Chloe on top of that?“

Seeing it now, in this light...it was cruel. It was cruel and unfair and hurtful, and Marinette felt horrible for considering letting herself be talked into it.

Adrien himself felt horrible for even suggesting it.

“We all have to live with the consequences of Chloe’s choices.” Alya stated. “So why shouldn’t she?”

Silence followed. It practically echoed throughout the entire hallway.

He said nothing in response. What could he possibly say? He’d known that Chloe was…difficult with other people, to say the least. He’d known the type of person she was. But she was his friend and friends forgive and support each other, right?

But they were right as well. It wasn’t fair to expect them to help Chloe after what she did. Especially once he knew of the level of harm she’d caused them. He felt the horror trickle in. The trauma everyone felt. The knowledge of what they’d been forced to do. The fact that…

He suddenly found it harder to breathe.

Nino could leave.

Adrien could lose his best friend because of this.

And who knew how many of the others would be forced to leave as well. Aside from Nino; Kim, Max, Alya, and Luka were other heroes as well. Juleka was Luka’s sister. And how many of the other classmates might be pulled out of this class and school because it’s unsafe? And Kagami—oh god, she was outted as well. He hadn’t heard from her in a while. Her mother is probably furious. She could move back to Japan because of this. And Marinette…she had been lucky to not be caught up in that fight since she was a hero only the one time, but that could have been just one more thing Chloe ruined for her…

…what about himself?

He paled.

He was longtime friends with Chloe. Went to school with Chloe. Was in class with Chloe. Chloe, who was currently getting a lot of heat from all of Paris. How was his Father going to react to that? The man was always focused on the company and appearances…what would he do now that Chloe had fallen from grace in such a way? Would he forbid Adrien from talking to Chloe again? Would he pull Adrien from school?

…would he ban Adrien from leaving the house altogether?

How was he only just now considering the impact? For himself or anyone else? Of course people would be hurt. Of course they would be upset. Of course people would respond. Somehow, he knew that, and yet he had only been focused on Chloe that it hadn’t actually hit home until now…

And in that light…

It had been selfish to ask. Honestly, he’d known that when he first tried to approach Marinette. But he felt he had to try. Honestly, part of him had known better than to ask in the first place. But at the same time…there was a part of him that still believed things could just go back to “normal”.

…how foolish. That was a “normal” that nobody else wanted. And even more, it was one that was now impossible…all because of Chloe herself.

“I just wanted to help.”

He deflated, losing all remaining fight.

“I’m sorry.”

The classmates glanced between each other. There was much they could have said, but really, anything they could have said already had been. And with him seeming resigned, it appeared there was no longer a need to defend themselves.

Marinette—ever the mediator, stepped up and hugged Adrien.

“Adrien, this isn’t something you can help with. None of us can. What happens in the trial is up to the courts. And what happens to Chloe is up to her.”

Slowly, he reached up and hugged her as well. The warmth and comfort brought some limited solace in this situation. He felt lost. Out of control. Like the world was moving around him and he didn’t know where he was standing much less where he was supposed to be.

They weren’t ready to forgive Chloe. And he couldn’t force them to be. Given the circumstances, he couldn’t blame them. And it was really unfair of him to try. Especially…

“I’m sorry, Marinette.” He whispered to her.

He had tried to use her. Looking back, he had a bit of a tendency to rely on Marinette to fix things when she shouldn’t have had to. Especially when it was for Chloe’s sake. He knew plenty of times Chloe had done things…but he always seemed to overlook how hurt Marinette was because of it, simply due to how well she always appeared afterwards. She was strong and confident, but also a good listener and willing to forgive. It was like nothing really brought her down.

It was due to this that Marinette was often the one he turned to whenever things happened. Because she would listen. She would understand. And she would always try to help, regardless of her position.

In this light…he may have over relied on her too much.

“I wasn’t fair to you.” He admitted. “I just saw Chloe hurting and only thought about how to fix things for her. I didn’t consider your feelings.” He hugged her more strongly. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t speak. But she squeezed him back.

He felt another body press against him. A quick glance showed it to be Nino.

“I’m still super mad with her. And I don’t like how you tried to push us to defend her after what she did. But I get that she’s your friend and you care about her. I’d do the same if it were you in her place.” He gave a small laugh. “Not that I think you ever would, of course.”

Adrien smiled back. “Thanks.”

This…this felt much better.

Things weren’t okay right now. He still wanted to help Chloe. His classmates were still hurt. People were still angry. Hawk Moth was still out there.

But whatever happened...in this moment, he felt they could make it.

#ml fic #chloe salt #miracle queen #marinette dupain cheng #marinette defense squad #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #adrien salt

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joestarwhore · 3 years

Note

NSFW Yandere Josuke (18+) x Female reader

his little darling managed to escape her obsessive and derange boyfriend house while he was gone.

She trys to get help and does but the good samaritan is Jotaro who leads her back to Josuke thinking she was over reacting.

Josuke angry she escape he takes her back home and has idea to keep her safe and home by finally putting a ring on her

Like The Ocean Finds The Shore (NSFW 18+)

Authors Note: 18+ ONLY. if you’re a minor please find another blog, this writings and scripts are not written for your audience. thank you bb!

You didn’t know what made it worse. The tears in your eyes? Or maybe it was the pouring rain in the pitch black night; never the less, you were barely able to make out where you were, much less which direction you were going. The muscles in your body screamed for relief, the gashes angrily stinging against the rain, pushing you to run far, far away from the house that became your personal Hell.

Anywhere was better than being with him.

Your legs burned as you pushed yourself down the hill, gaining as much distance as you could away from Josuke. You couldn’t help to think of the events that led to this; gaining a stand from Keijo, meeting Koichi in odd circumstances, all the tiny little interactions that led to you accidentally tripping over a brick. Right into Josuke’s unmoving backside.

The thunder was incredibly deafening, lighting up the city of Morioh below you. You didn’t know if Josuke had discovered your absence yet, but you knew you had to be far away from him when he did. You knew it was just a matter of time.

Suddenly the grass became concrete, and concrete became asphalt. Relief flooded through you as you realized that you had finally made it into city limits. You looked around for any sign of safety you could take, your sights finally landing on the Grand Morioh Hotel.

‘Oh my god, Jotaro!’ You started sprinting towards the doors, bypassing any on looker or someone saying any comment to you, all you cared about was finding the receptionist and finding Jotaro. You ran down the hall to the Plaza, seeing the nice attendant lady who always seemed to be the one working for the desk. As soon as she saw you approach, her smile went from one of welcome to a grimace of worry. “Oh my word sweetie, are you okay?? Do you need any help??”

You leaned on the desk for a second to catch your breath. “Actually.. yes there is something.. you could do..”, you took a deep breath, “can you tell me what room Jotaro Kujo is in? We’re related & we have a family member in the hospital and it’s imperative that I fill him in on what’s going on.” Not the best lie you’ve ever told but at this point, you couldn’t afford to be precise. The desk attendant nodded with assured hums, “Yes honey of course, give me just one second.”

You breathed in relief. Thank God. Josuke definitely knew by now that you were gone, & would absolutely be searching for you. Finding Jotaro gave you a little hope for safety but even still; Josuke was relentless.

“Okay darlin, 8th floor, 6th suite, it’ll be the one at the very end!!” Relief swept over you as you quickly expressed your thanks, sprinting up the stairs towards your destination. ‘This is utterly insane’ you thought to yourself; you were running from your deranged boyfriend to his nephew that’s a decade older than he is. Your clothes were torn, wet, your skin was bruised and bleeding out, a state of being you weren’t familiar with.

The raw emotion you felt as you reach Jotaro’s door can only be described as a broken hallelujah. You banged on his door as hard as you can, not stopping until Jotaros towering frame swung the door open.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” His stone cold expression seemed to always be unwavering, but at the sight of you his eyes betrayed him. “What the hell happened to you?” You tried to speak, but no words came out, simply emotion ridden gasps between sobs. Jotaro took your arm and led you in, showing you to a seat by the fireplace & brought you a hot mug of coffee. You gave him a grateful look as you took the cup, Jotaro taking the seat in front of you with a first aid kit. “What happened to you?? Is this from an enemy stand user?”

You couldn’t help but give a lifeless giggle. Certainly felt like it, didn’t it?

Jotaro let you sit in silence for a second while he cleaned the wounds gracing your arms & face, carefully watching your facial expression for any sign of emotion, anything to hint at what might be going on. You didn’t even know where to start in explaining it, or even a way to explain how this happened.

Jotaro took your chin in his hand and turned your face towards his. “(Y/N), who did this to you?” The concern in his eyes made you feel the most cared about you’ve been in months. If you could tell anyone, it’d be Jotaro.. right?”

“It.. it’s Josuke.. When we started dating he was so good to me, he was charming & caring, he’d take time out of his day to spend time with me & would make sure i felt his love; but his actions just.. escalated. He was everywhere. He would text me throughout the day about what i was doing, saying certain comments about my outfits or what stores i was in, he ALWAYS knew.” Jotaro listened intently as he wrapped your forearm in gauze, giving you a nod it was okay to keep proceeding with what you were saying. “All of a sudden one day my land lord calls me to let me know that I was being evicted out of nowhere and i had 24 hours to leave. The same day, Josuke signed the deed to his Mom’s house & told me I could live with him. I just thought it was a crazy coincidence, I didn’t think Josuke would actually ever get me evicted. Then i found my land lords phone number in his pocket book. When I asked him about it he pretended like he didn’t know, and when i kept asking he..” The memory of him holding you against the wall, his knee putting pressure onto your slit, made you visibly cringe. The way he touched you.. it was so possessive, so needy, his eyes portraying one visible message. ‘I own you.’

Jotaro closed the first aid kit & put it under the seat he was at, a pack of pills in his hand. Jotaro silently put the two pills in your hand & got you a glass of water. “I’m sorry you’re going through this & I’m sorry you’ve been hurt so badly. The pills are a sleeping pill & a pain relief supplement, take those and you can sleep in my bed. I’ll handle everything in the morning.” You looked at the two white pills in your hand & threw them to the back of your throat, quickly chasing them with the glass of water he gave you. Jotaro gave you a pair of pajama pants and a t shirt, and helped you lay in the bed. “Goodnight, (Y/N). I’ll see you in the morning.”

You don’t remember anything past that.

__________________________________

When you woke in the morning, you were blinded by direct sunlight. You squinted your eyes as tight as you could, noticing that you were being held up my two arms that were walking at a brisk pace. Gently adjusting your eyes to open, you looked up to see Jotaro, a determined glare in his eyes.

“J..Jotaro where are we?” you whispered the best you could manage. Jotaro gave you a glance down before returning his eyes to the path.

“I called Josuke.”, Your heart drops into your stomach. He wouldn’t.. he couldn’t.. “He says you lost your apartment because your anti psychotics put you out of a job, & he had your landlords number to pay your moving out fees for you.”

You shook your head in disbelief, “No, no no no Jotaro that’s a lie, i’m not on anti-psychotics, I don’t have any sort of med like that, he’s fucking lying to you!!”

Jotaro gave you an expectant look. “That’s the other thing Josuke said. You’ve been flushing them down the drain instead of taking them like you’re supposed to. Josuke only wants to take care of you, (Y/N). There’s nothing to fear of him.”

“JOTARO, I HAVE NEVER TAKEN THOSE PILLS IN MY LIFE AND YOU FUCKING KNOW”- You saw a giant purple hand come over your face and cover your mouth, restraining you from saying anymore. “I’m sorry (Y/N), but this is what’s best for you.”

You heard a door in the distance open, and Jotaro looking up and locking eyes with someone. The voice you heard next made your spine freeze, and dread pierce your soul.

“Jotaro!! Thank you SO much for bringing (Y/N) back!!”

No.. Not again..

“Not a problem Josuke, i’d rather have assurance of (Y/N)‘s safety myself then just send her back here on a bus.”

You slowly looked over, finally catching sight of your boyfriend. His tall, muscular form loomed dangerously in the door way of his house, his pompadour reminding you of so many events, so many violations of your body..

God its sick that it was making you wet.

Jotaro set you on your feet in front of josuke, letting Star Platinums hand uncover your mouth.

You couldn’t look at him.

Josukes hand ran through your hair, “(Y/N) is all okay now that she’s here with me.” He put his other hand under your chin, lifting to meet you eye to eye. It was everything you remembered. Lust, anger, relief, and above all else: obsession.

Jotaro and Josuke bid their farewells. Hands on your hips steered you into the living room, Josuke gently closing the door behind you. You could feel his eyes bore into the back of your skull, your mind erratic with anxiety. God, what’s he gonna do??

“Y’know, you didnt have to run away. You didn’t have to leave me. You didn’t have to be SO FUCKING UNGRATEFUL.” Josuke threw a chair at the wall in front of you, the force of it making you fall backwards onto your back. You gasped as your back collided with the floor, seeing Josukes towering frame turning towards you. He kneels down straddling you, the obsession of his eyes terrifying as he wrapped his long fingers around your throat. Adrenaline went straight between your legs.

“I do everything for you, (Y/N). I house you. I feed you. I FUCKING TAKE CARE OF YOU.” Josuke ripped apart your shirt, shoving his knee on your hot slit, making you gasp in surprise. Josukes delicate features possess a hunger that you remember all too well. “I also make you feel good don’t i??” He removed one of his hands from your throat to attack your nipple with, making you arch your back & moan. Josuke bit his lip in ecstasy as he shoved his middle finger down your slit, swirling it around in your hot heat. Josukes mouth rested against your temple as you gasped in pleasure, sickly wanting him to just take you then & there.

Josuke slowed down his finger, gently massaging your clit at a comfortable pace. “I’m sorry if it was because you felt unloved. If that’s the case, I really promise to be better. Because you can’t leave me, (Y/N). You’re mine, my little princess, my sweet baby girl,” His fingers started to assault you again. You heard a zipper get tugged town, and Josukes hips sweetly grind against yours. “My little fucking slut.”

You started to panic as you felt the tip of his rock hard cock press against your heat, your adrenaline skyrocketing. He’s delirious. “JoJo honey please, d-dont make me do this i’m so fucking sc-“

Josukes hand slapped your cheek, making you yelp in pain, quickly resulting in your moth being covered once again. “No, you don’t get a say. You were a bad girl, baby. And bad girls-“

Your scream was strained as he bottomed out his 8 inch cock inside you. “-they get punished.”

Josuke rammed inside of you, yourself being pummeled into the floor as he chanted “Mine, mine, mine, -FUCK-, MINE!!” His dick assaults your G-Spot as you felt an orgasm start to build in your stomach.

“Are you gonna cum baby? Does my little fuckinf slut want to cum??” Josuke slapped your clit. “TELL ME WHO OWNS YOU.”

Pleasure overruled the mine on this one. “It’s you baby! It’s always been you and it always will, I promise I’ll never leave you again just-“ you squealed as you felt your build up about to break. “PLEASE LET ME CUM JOSUKE PLEASE!!”

“Uggh FUCK, cum on my fucking cock (Y/N) show me who OWNS you.” Josukes duet of lust and rage amplified as you exploded all over him, your moans and screams sounding like siren calls to himself. Josuke rutted into you, filling you to the brim with himself. He laid himself by you, wrapping his arms around your overstimulated frame. You laid there for a couple of minutes trying to catch your breath, your heart rate soaring. You could hear Josukes soft giggles beside you as you felt a hand caress your cheek. You looked him into his eyes, seeing the unconditional love and obsession. The never ending love and obsession.

Josuke sweetly kisses your cheek, holding you in his arms as he gently picks up your left hand. You felt a cold circle of metal grace your ring finger, slipping on perfectly. Fear gripped your heart as you realized what it was.

“My pretty baby.. my gorgeous doll,” Josuke rolled ontop of you and held your face in his hands. “This will make sure we’re always together. You & me, husband and wife!! My perfect, beautiful, fuckable wife..”

Tears started to slide down your face.

So, this was defeat.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you be my wife?”

You looked at the alabaster ceiling. This wasn’t possible for you. This couldn’t be happening. But you knew it was.

“Yes.. Josuke. I’ll marry you.”

Josuke gleamed as he smothered you with kisses and sweet nothings, giving you gentle touches as his lips grazed over your ears to say the only thing that comes out of his mouth: poison.

“I’ll always find you, baby doll.”

“Like the ocean meets the shore- I will always find you.”

——————————-

I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT & KEEP REQUESTING ALL YALL WANT!! TYSM!! 🤍🌿✨🌸👄🍌🌩

#jojos bizzare adventure yandere #yandere josuke #n/s/f/w jjba #yandere jjba #yandere risotto #yandere rohan #ghiaccio x reader #vento aureo #la squadra #jjba imagines

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lilacsnid · 3 years

Text

『2』 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝: — 𝒏𝒆𝒘𝒕 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

In which way Newt is there for the girl who ends up losing her best friend — Ben, to the maze.

PART 1

A/n: ask permission to use or re-post my work, please do not steal or plagiarize my writing x

Flashbacks/earlier events are in italics :)

©lilacsnid

— AS hard as it was, life in The Glade had to go on. Amongst their mindless chatter, each glader returned back to their allocated jobs, working in whatever daylight was left.

This was always Newt’s favourite part of his days in The Glade. In the few years he had been there, he’d couldn’t help but come to love the little things about the strange habitation. Like the way the sun hits The Glade just before it disappears behind the walls. It’s deep, golden glow bouncing off all the trees, illuminating everything in it’s path. The green field and cool breeze in the air sent Newt into a state of tranquility.

Newt stood still in the middle of The Glade, his brows furrowed and a stern expression plastered across his face as his thoughts began to overcome him. He pursued in observing his fellow gladers and their work until his gaze soon fell onto Frypan, who was preparing dinner. Within minutes, the sun had disappeared behind the stone walls. The strident sound of the dinner bell was soon heard across The Glade, pulling Newt out of his trance. The sound got the attention of all the gladers as they retired from their jobs, slowly making their way to the kitchen from all directions.

From her hut, Y/N heard the bell herself yet she refused to move from her spot on the floor. No one had seen her ever since Ben’s banishment. She felt safe within the refuge of her own space. Where no one could see her red and puffy eyes, where no one could hear her whimpers as the ache in her heart continued to grow. She knew she had the support of all those around her. But with Ben gone, she couldn’t help but feel more alone than ever.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Tears continued to fall down her rosy cheeks for the rest of the night. The world around her was spinning, her breathing was slow and her vision was blurred. She decided to let her eyes flutter shut for a brief moment, but the nauseating feeling in her stomach grew stronger, so she decided against it by immediately shooting her eyes back open.

She told herself that she wasn’t going to leave the confines of her hut. But here she was, laying on the scratchy grass in the middle of The Glade after recklessly drinking her body weight in Gally’s moonshine.

Y/N had never made any wrong decisions in her life while being here in The Glade. But this was definitely her first. She didn’t want her emotions to get the best of her. But she couldn’t help it, how could she? The hollow pain in her heart felt permanent and soul crushing. Her eyes would scan the whole Glade, looking for her best friend. But not long after, her heart drops when she remembers why she can’t find him. Which causes her to take another swing of moonshine from the jar she held tightly in her hand, hoping it would take away her grief or the loss of her best friend. But it did nothing apart from numb her mouth.

Newt sat on the opposite side of the bonfire from the frail girl, watching the bright orange embers from the fire with Thomas sitting next to him. At that moment in time, she was on his mind. Who was he kidding? She was always on his mind whether he could help it or not. The events of today had struck him hard, along with his fellow gladers.

Pulling Newt out of his trance, Thomas tapped him on the arm. Newt peered towards his friend and watched as he pointed over his shoulder, gesturing for him to follow suit. Newt went along with his actions, turning his head to glance at the girl who was sprawled out on the grass behind them. The sight surprised him, seeing Y/N out in The Glade like this. The boys wanted to get together tonight for a bonfire, knowing it was important that they stuck together, especially at a time like now. Losing another one of their fellow gladers was never easy, it got harder each time. Gally and a few other gladers had approached Y/N’s hut after not seeing her at dinner, desperately trying to aid her out. However, they ended up leaving after being yelled at by the frail girl. Newt had tried to see her himself, but he knew that she needed some time alone to process the earlier events of the day.

Having said that, Newt hadn’t seen her come out of her hut. He hadn’t seen her since Ben’s banishment.

She had somehow managed to sneak out between Newt’s occasional glances towards the direction of her hut, as well as stealing a few jars of Gally’s moonshine in the process. Newt had a sudden urge to see the girl he loved. He missed her, today more than any other.

“I’m gonna go see her,” Newt spoke to Thomas, his voice straining as he stood up from the patch of grass and onto his feet.

Thomas nodded, understanding and glancing back over his shoulder to look at Y/N before looking back up at Newt, “Look after her, okay? We’re all worried about her.”

“I will,” Newt patted his friend on the back before making his way around the fire and limping across the short field of grass to reach Y/N.

As he got closer, the girl remained sprawled out across the grass and unaware of his presence. Soon enough, Newt stood above the girl, staring down at her with furrowed eyebrows. He noticed the almost empty jar of moonshine clutched in her hand, making him realise why she still hadn’t noticed his presence yet. Drinking herself rotten wasn’t like her, everyone in The Glade knew that.

He took a moment to take in her features. The soft but faint glow from the fire a few metres away gave him enough light to see her. Her chest rose and fell slowly with every breath she took, her cheeks were rosy and puffy. He could only just make out the traces of tears that continued to stain her cheeks. Her arms were sprawled out by her sides, the sight making Newt sigh heavily as he shoved his hands into his pockets. The worry started to consume him even more as he noticed her eyes began to flutter open, her gaze meeting his own briefly. Her eyelids were heavy and her eyes were glossed over. He knew she was here, with him. But he also knew that, mentally, she was a million miles away. He wanted to bring her back, he needed to.

“Darling...” Newt spoke gently, peering down at her with his head tilted to the side, “What are you doing out here by yourself?”

Her body slumped further into the green grass as she shrugged her shoulders, struggling greatly to keep her gaze locked onto him. Newt shook his head ever so slightly. As the night grew later, the air had gotten colder. He could notice the girl’s skin and how it was littered in goosebumps with the absence of the bonfire to keep her warm.

He knelt down at her side, tucking some strands of hair behind her ear. She could feel how cold Newt’s fingers were as they traced her skin. She wanted to turn her head to face the boy that she had been pining after, yet her body was too weak.

“How about I take you to bed, yeah?” He requests softly, “It’s starting to get cold out here.”

His words made Y/N whine in protest, shaking her head briskly while making an attempt to try and get up.

“I-I wanna,” Her voice was slurred as she tripped over her words, “I want to stay here.”

“You can’t, love,” Newt sighed, resting a hand on the small of her back to keep her steady as she sat up from her place on the grass. She lifted the jar with a shaky hand up to her lips, intending to finish what was left. However, due to her loose muscle tone, the jar slipped from her hands. The moonshine spilled all over the front of her, seeping through the fabric of her shirt.

“Shit!” She cried loudly as more tears began to well in her eyes and fall quicker down her cheeks.

Newt cursed under his breath, fed up with watching the love of his life trying to lose herself.

“Alright, c’mon,” He stood back onto his feet as he helped her onto her own, taking notice of how unsteady she was.

“No Newt!” She protests as she slaps his hands away, “Just leave me.”

He shook his head, “Y/N, I’m not leaving you here like this. Please, just let me help you. I want to help you.”

For the first time tonight, she tilted her gaze upwards, looking up at Newt. To her surprise, he was already looking down at her, concern written all over his face. Y/N could tell by the way he was frowning and his arms were crossed. All she could do was stare up at the boy. He was beautiful. The very sight of him made her forget about everything worrying her. About her grief, about being trapped, about everything. She mentally curses herself for not telling him just how special he is to her enough. She closed her eyes for a mere second, before nodding her head slowly. Newt watched the tears stream down her cheeks and couldn’t stop the sight from breaking his heart. He bit the inside of his lip, wishing so desperately that he could take her pain away, that he could carry all her burdens so she wouldn’t have to. All he ever wanted was to see her happy, and deep down, he knew he could make her happy if she let him.

“Oh, love,” He whispers as he takes a couple of steps closer towards her.

He doesn’t know what else he could do apart from wrapping her up in his arms and embracing the girl. And he did exactly that. He pulled her in as close as he possibly could, wrapping his arms around her shoulders as hers snaked around his waist. Newt loved having Y/N close to him. While she was in his arms, nothing could hurt her.

She breathed his scent in deeply, appreciating having him in her life. He felt like home, and to him, so did she.

“Let me take care of you,” He whispers into her ear, sending shivers down her spine as he began to run his fingers through her hair.

He felt her nod again against his chest while trying to calm her breathing, “Thank you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Love,” Newt chuckled, yanking his head back away from Y/N’s grasp, “Let me finish washing your hair, then you can touch me as much as you like.”

The pair had found themselves in the shower together at a ridiculously late time during the night, after Newt had persuaded her off the grass. Spontaneously, Y/N decided that she wanted to have a shower before Newt put her to bed. In a way, she hoped it would sober her up. As well as get rid of the stench of alcohol off her body. After grabbing a clean pair of clothes from her hut, he helped her over towards the showers.

By this time, all the gladers had gone to bed for the night. So the quiet chatter between the two of them was the only noise that could be heard.

The girl had managed to strip down to her undergarments, and turn on the water, gasping as soon as it streamed onto her skin. Newt stood a couple of meters away, frowning and watching her sway uneasily as her hand rested against the concrete wall, steadying herself. He couldn’t help but let his eyes wander across her curves, admiring her in this current state. However, he quickly snapped out of it, not wanting to be disrespectful. He cared about this girl, so much that it scared him sometimes.

After watching her almost fall, Newt stripped down to his own underwear to her surprise. He stepped under the water, pulling her limp body up against his by her hips. She was grateful for this and she leaned her body weight backwards, relaxing into him almost instantly.

“Do you need a hand?” Newt asked, whispering into the crook of her neck as he took the sponge from her hands.

She turned her head, resting her ear against his bare chest, being able to hear his heart beat, “Yes, please.”

With pouted lips, Y/N faced towards the concrete wall of the shower. Her back was facing him as the cool water continued to fall over her collarbones. The alcohol still lingered in her system; but she knew where she was, what she was doing and who she was with. And in this moment, she didn’t want to be with anyone else but him.

“I don’t want to just touch you...” She mumbles, crossing her arms over her chest.

Newt struggled to hear her quiet and raspy voice over the sound of the running water. He rushed to rinse the rest of the soapy solution out of her hair before grasping her shoulders gently and turning her around to face him. She glanced up at Newt innocently, her doe eyes making his heart melt while she observed him as he rubbed the sponge across the skin of her chest.

“What did you say?” Newt questions the girl after a couple of minutes, dropping the sponge and taking a step closer so both of them were under the running water.

The water that started to trickle down Newt’s milky toned chest made Y/N almost lose her train of thought.

“I uhm,” The girl started, shaking her head at the affect he always managed to have on her, “I said, I don’t want to just touch you.”

His ears perked up and his face visibly softens as he looks into her eyes in a peculiar way, a way that he has never done before. And she noticed this.

“Then tell me, love,” He reaches forward, tracing his fingers lightly up her sides, “What do you want from me?”

Y/N gasped softly at Newt’s touch, not expecting it. Her words got caught in the back of her throat as he begins tracing delicate patterns onto the skin of her hips. A few shaky breaths brush past her lips before she answers honestly, “I want to kiss you. I’ve wanted you for so long, Newt. You’re all I think about. I want us to be together. I don’t want to live the rest of my life without you by my side.”

Her words were like music to his ears. They soothed all the worry and doubt that had been consuming him for so long. Now, he could finally hear the truth he had always hoped for. Newt cautiously lifts his hands, cupping Y/N’s cheeks and maintaining a locked gaze with her.

“Can I kiss you?” Newt questions, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly. “Please?” He adds shortly after, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers.

She copies Newt’s actions from earlier, running her fingers along his sides and wrapping her arms around his waist. The warmth of his torso enveloping her instantaneously.

“Yes,” she breaths out, waiting for what could happen next.

Newt’s gaze locked onto her lips for a brief moment, then slowly making it’s way back up to her eyes. The tension soon became too much, and within seconds, Newt wasted no time in pressing his lips against hers. Due to the chilly air surrounding them, his lips felt cold against hers. But it didn’t bother her, the feeling was quite addictive.

Seconds became minutes and the water from the shower continued to grow cold, but it didn’t stop either of their actions. Her hands ended up running through his damp and tousled locks, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck. Newt’s hands traveled down to her waist, then up her back. He repeated this action several times as they continued to kiss under the moonlight. The soap he had used still stuck to her skin, making his hands glide easily as they ran over her skin. Their kisses began to grow rougher and more desperate as they continued to pull each other closer.

Newt was the first to lean away; his eyes opened to be met with her own. For a brief moment, the pair were locked in a trance with one another, just staring into each others eyes. Both of their lips were pink and plump from their continuous interlocking.

“I’m so in love with you,” Newt ushered, burying his head into the crook of her neck, beginning to trail soft kisses against her shoulder.

For the first time in a while, Y/N couldn’t contain the smile on her face as those words left his lips.

“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me feel to hear you say that,” She says, pulling Newt back up to kiss him, “I love you more than anything.”

He planted a few more kisses to her lips, chaste pecks filled with desire and emotion. Soon his kisses seeped back into the skin of her neck once again, his hand reached up slowly to fumble with the wet material of her bra strap. He slipped the material off her shoulder, dipping his head down to kiss over the top of her breasts. The damp material of the strap felt heavy against her skin as his fingers were tangled in it.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Newt whispered, his breath feeling warm against her skin.

“I love you,” she repeats, her eyes watching him hungrily as he kisses her chest, his hands wandering up the the curves of her breasts, squeezing gently.

Newt grins at her words, tracing his fingers over the lacy material of her bra, “I’ll never love anyone else but you.”

And with this, their lips met again.

255 notes · View notes

claudiarya · 3 years

Text

Hey guys, I’ve written a post RoW fanfiction. I warn you that it has a death trope in it, so beware.

You can also read it on Ao3 as well.

Count words: 5990

Hope Suite

They didn’t know the moment when it all went wrong. Had it been when Kaz had accepted the job? Had it been when Inej had left Pekka Rollins alive, or when they had kept going despite all the adversities, they had encountered? The events of the last days were starting to become a blurring reel, that had done nothing but confuse them. What had started as a fairly easy job for the queen of Ravka, it then had turned out to be a major standoff with their enemies, which was putting not just one country, but the whole world as they knew it in peril. Maybe it had all gone downhill when Jarl Brum had managed to escape his prison cell at Hellgate, aided by one of his most trusted Drüskelle, his mind already too corrupted by the former General’s manipulations.

By the time he had been set free again, and had sought revenge against his detested neighbors, specifically against the witch queen and her monstrous husband, Inej, Kaz and his crew had already been too involved with their task to worry about it. How could they have known that once out, Brum was going to use everything in his power to bend Ravka? The Fjerdan man was aware that he couldn’t compete with its ruler, so he had worked out a different strategy entirely: if he couldn’t hope to win in a direct confrontation, he was going to annihilate her and her subjects from within, even if it would cost the destruction of his own country and more…

They didn’t know how Brum had gotten the information, but he had travelled to the mountains and had somehow liberated a certain shadow summoner from his sacrifice of eternal of pain, well before Zoya could do as she had planned. The shadow summoner in question had disappeared without a trace, only the Saints knew where he could have gone to hide away.

Needless to say, the darkness and its vampiric actions had started to spread again, at twice the speed. It looked like a ravenous beast had been set lose. It had extended in other countries as well, a silent and unannounced menace ravishing everything in its wake, that terrified even sailors at sea. If that wasn’t enough, Brum had also found out about Dirtyhand’s ‘involvement’ with the queen, and had made an ally with an ex Barrel boss, who had lost all his fortunes and power to a teenage crippled kid. Two powerful and dangerous men driven by their thirst for revenge had revealed themselves to be even more unstoppable than any of them had originally believed.

***

Inej remembered when Kaz had asked her to take a short leave from her sea voyages, to run one last time with him and the other crows in this task in which her skills at gathering information were going to be fundamental. Jesper had, of course, already accepted his friend’s proposition, and if at first Wylan had been skeptical, he had ended up joining the crew for the job. Perhaps for his natural instinct to follow wherever the gangly sharpshooter went, or maybe for the fact that he had made friends with the King consort, their shared love for science and ‘infernal gadgets’, as Kaz would call them, a fertile ground for common understanding.

“I won’t force you to do anything,” he had rasped to her while sitting on the roof ledge at the Slat to watch the tepid Ketterdam sun slowly blinking into existence in front of them; their intertwined fingers a testimony of how far they had already conquered together. The only thing that hadn’t won yet was their insomnia.

“Your particular set of skills is needed for this job, but I understand if you don’t want to be dragged into this,” Kaz had continued, and she had known he had slightly turned his head in her direction, as she had kept her eyes on the dawn.

After a while and still no answer from her he had sighed.

“Inej, what I’m trying to say is that we need you. I need you. I don’t think I can do this without you, so please tell me now, so I can send back a definite answer to Her Royal Pain.”

The Suli girl had marveled at his words: she didn’t think she had ever heard Kaz admit out loud that he couldn’t do something without the help of someone else.

“I’ll do it,” she had exclaimed, now turning her gaze on his stone-carved features. “But on one condition: I want Queen Zoya to help me fight against the slave trade in Ravka, and I want her to promise me that human traffickers are going to find the justice they deserve in her country.”

Kaz had squeezed her hand, the look in his eyes an oath to himself as well as to her.

***

Inej clutched her hand on her injured arm. She could feel the blood on her palm, as she watched Kaz keeping at cane point the last of the men who had tried to kill them. Their lead for the relic of Santk Feliks’s heart had taken them here, in an obscure abandoned, or so they thought, monastery on the Ravkan coast, right on the border with Fjerda. They had found out that centuries before, the order of religious men inhabiting the place had been the resting place of the only remaining part of the Saint. An easy reconnaissance job, an easy trail to follow. But ever since the spreading of the blight, of the Kilyklava, nothing had been easy. It was as if for every movement they made, their enemies were ten steps ahead of them. Inej had never seen anyone outsmart Kaz like that. Usually, he was the one who had everything under control, who could predict every outturn, every maneuver his opponents were going to make. But instead, everywhere they had attempted to gather information, they had encountered a setup of sorts: mainly the place they had intended to scout, burnt to the ground. Had they a spying traitor in their mix? Inej had never seen him more on edge than she had in the last month, but now they had passed the pretense of this being another job. It had stopped being that when the world hab been threatened by an unstoppable force and Pekka Rollins had entered the picture. It was personal. And she suspected that he was also trying to keep true to the promise he had made her.

Inej had thought they had planned this out so carefully, she was sure they would not encounter any unpleasant surprise this time. After the too many (not) coincidences, they had started scheming their way for the hunt of the heart with only the four of them and Nikolai and Zoya, who had had to, although begrudgingly, leave out the Triumvirate and their closest friends from this particular matter of international importance. How was it possible then, that their traces had been tracked even here? Kaz and Inej had offered for the job, a quick break in into the abandoned archives of the monastery, while Nikolai, Jesper and Wylan would wait for them on the Volkvolny to pick them up and leave after they had completed their task. Perhaps a smaller party was going to attract less attentions, their rouse of a devoted young group of people had served them well in the little town around the old holy building, and they had played their parts too well that Inej had forgotten for an instant that they had a bigger goal in mind. She was never going to forget the easy talk, the laughs they had shared around the table of the little tavern they had resided in, her hand clasped together with Kaz as a sort of lifeline for the both of them; her head resting delicately on his chest as they were lying down on the little bed they shared.

The four men that have been sent to kill them had caught them by surprise. Again.

Kaz had just uttered “We’ve got what we need, let’s go,” when the first thug that had tried to sneak up on him. Inej had made a quick work of the assassins, if her knives embedded in two of the men’s throats were of any indication. Despite that, one of the others had managed to graze her arm with a bullet, when she had momentarily lost her focus because the remaining one had kicked Kaz’s bad leg, eliciting a sound of pain from him. If only Jesper and Wylan had been there with them.

As she hobbled to where he was standing, Inej realized that Kaz was shaking from the effort of not to keel over in pain, his hand gripping the crow’s head of his cane so tightly, she feared he was going to snap it in half.

“Kaz...” she started

“You’re bleeding,” he rasped, diverting his gaze from the man to her, for the briefest of moments.

“It’s nothing,” she said. But she could see that he wasn’t really convinced, and with a soft grunt, he fished from his pocket a handkerchief and handed it to her, before asking to the person on the ground.

“How did you know we would be here?” his eyes two unforgiving coals.

The hired assassin didn’t answer at first but gave away in a little chuckle instead. Suddenly Kaz, still balancing his weight mostly on his good leg, brought down his cane on one of the man’s own legs. His scream of pain echoed around them in the old room.

“It doesn’t feel good, does it?” he said. This was Dirtyhands himself, any trace of the young man he had been with her at the tavern, vaporized.

“Now, tell me how you knew we were here, or I’m going to break every bone you have, and we both know how pleasant that is.”

The man chuckled again, but then he started talking.

“At times one shouldn’t look for spiders,” he said with a sickening grin. “At times, it’s the little insects nobody sees or cares to check because they’re believed to be harmless that tip the scales.”

Inej could see Kaz’s mind trying to figure out the man’s words, his gaze distant.

In that moment she realized that she was never going to tire to see that look on his face. Nor any other looks for that matter. Wobbly, the boy in question turned to her, he took the kerchief she had been pressing on her wound from her hand, and before she could realize what he was doing he tore it a bit and tied it around her bloody arm.

“Let’s get out of here,” he stated, wincing visibly as he made to move towards the door.

The man started laughing again as if Kaz had said something so funny he couldn’t control himself. Inej was on him before she could think. A knee on the thug’s sternum and her blade pressed to his throat.

“What’s so funny?” she inquired, looking down at him with disdain. She was tired, and she wanted to bring Kaz back to the Volkvolny, to get his leg looked properly after.

“In the end, you really are nothing but two delusional kids,” the man said, and Inej could feel his voice reverberate from under her knee.

“Stop speaking in riddles, or I swear to all the Saints known I’ll cut your throat right this second.”

He raised one hand in a gesture of mocking surrender. “Let’s just say that nobody is leaving this place alive,” he conceded.

“What do you mean?” asked Kaz from somewhere behind her, his tone menacing yet on guard. The tip of Inej’s knife scraped the man’s throat when he didn’t immediately answer back, two droplets of blood slid down the blade.

“This place and the whole town are about to be razed down by bombs and cannons. General Brum’s ships are approaching. They wanted to make sure our precious king consort and his flying machine didn’t leave this place unscathed. There’s no escaping your tragic fate now.” He snarled. His voice couldn’t conceal the hate he had for Nikolai, so he must have been one of those Ravkans from the West, unhappy with who was ruling over them now.

“No,” Inej said softly, and shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re lying!”

The man’s eyes lit with a manic light. “The world shall end in flames and darkness before being ruled by Gri –” He never finished his sentence, as Kaz brought down his cane once again, this time on his head.

The silence that followed could have lasted a minute or an eternity, Inej couldn’t be sure.

“Kaz,” she started again while standing.

“You need to leave. Now. I can’t walk, I think my leg is broken, but you need to leave me here and run from this place.” Kaz said, turning to look at her, the desperation palpable in his voice

“I’m not leaving,” she approached him. “We need to warn Nikolai. Tell them all to leave.”

“Inej – ”

“Either pick up the comm and call them, or give it to me, Kaz. We’re only losing time like this.” Her tone was unmovable.

Without any more protests on his part, he took out the little ingenious device Wylan and Nikolai had come up with. It permitted them to communicate even from quite long distances.

“Crow 1 and 2 to Too Clever Fox, do you copy?”

For the briefest of instants only there was only the sound of static, but then.

“Too Clever Fox here, I copy you. Kaz? What’s going on?” came the king’s voice.

“Nikolai, listen to me: you have to leave. Now. Get the Volkvolny and depart. This monastery, this town is about to be razed down by bombs. They knew we would be here; Brum’s ships are approaching. You – ”

“We’re coming to get you,” Nikolai interrupted him.

“No, there’s no time for that. You have to leave here now, or it will all be for nothing.” He looked at Inej then, his eyes searching hers in the dim light of the room with evident resignation.

“No! Kaz, Inej, no, we’re coming and we’re all surviving this.” Another protest from a different voice, Jesper’s.

“No! You have to listen and be quiet. I know where the thing we’ve looked for is. It’s hidden somewhere under the little place you train your soldiers. I also know how they’ve been able to predict our every move. Bugs. Check the war room for devices of the sort we’re using right now.”

“I will,” was Nikolai’s response.

There was another brief pause of static, Kaz spoke again, before he could be interrupted

“Jesper, Wylan,” he said. “The Crow Club and everything else is yours and Nina’s. You’ll find all the documents in my office back at the Slat. Do with them whatever you think it’s right.”

“Kaz, please we still have time, we can come and get you.” It was Wylan’s voice now that came from the other side.

Inej got closer and circled the hand in which Kaz was gripping the device with her own. “Wylan, you have to leave. Right now, ring the alarm bell of the town and go.” She started and then said:

“Guys… find my parents, tell them – tell them what happened, and that it was all for something better. We love you.”

Another anguished call for their names echoed around the room they were standing.

Inej took a breath a finished what she meant to say. “Nikolai the Wraith… take good care of her, and don’t forget our promise. When you see Nina and Zoya tell them – ”

She couldn’t finish the sentence the threat of tears pricking her eyes. Luckily the privateer answered back.

“I’ll tell them, and I promise everything we did by far will not be in vain. Thank you, my friends. We will never forget what you did for Ravka and for all of us.”

Kaz and Inej could also hear the subtle sounds of distress of their friends, their family. She realized in that moment how much all of them meant to her. Funny how life had a tendency to remind you how deeply you loved someone when you’re about to lose everything.

Kaz brought the device back on his lips and in a clear voice said: “No mourners…” and before they could hear an answer coming from the other side, he had already thrown on the ground the device and smashed it with the tip of his cane.

The movement made so that he lost his balance. He would have crashed on the ground if Inej hadn’t been there to prevent the fall. She brought his arm over and shoulder and steadied him.

Kaz looked at her intently, his face turned in her direction, his eyes scanning her features and she knew what he was about to tell her even before he spoke the words.

“Inej, you can still make it, you’re fast, you have to run and save yourself.”

“I knew you were going to say this, but if you think that I could ever leave you behind you’re sorely mistaken.”

He did not relent, and as stubbornly as ever he removed his arm from around her shoulder, he gripped his cane with all his might so as not to fall again and faced her.

“Inej, please. Run now. Live. You have so much you still have to give to this wretched world.” Kaz Brekker never said please, never. Yet here he was, a broken boy standing in front of the girl he had grown to love.

“I can’t do that,” Inej simply replied while shaking her head in denial.

“It was all my fault, and you can’t pay my foolishness with your life, I won’t allow it. It’s not worth it. I’m not worth it.”

She took the short distance separating them and put her hand atop his on his cane.

“None of this was your fault, you have to get that straight. We’ve done something good, we helped our friends, our countries. And you’ll always be worth it to me.”

At her words she felt his breath hitch, but still his eyes held behind them a strange resolution.

“I can’t be the reason why you die here today, why can’t you understand that?” Kaz’s voice cracked, perhaps with the effort of holding back his desperation. Inej brought her free hand up and gently cupped his face with her palm. Her thumb grazed his cheek in a loving gesture.

“I’m not afraid to die, Kaz. But I’m terrified at the idea of a life without you in it. So, no. I’m not leaving, not now, not ever.”

***

As they stumbled outside the musty room of the monastery, Kaz with an arm draped around Inej’s shoulder for support, the Autumnal sun had started its descent. The soft orange and purple hues of the rays reflected on the sea surface, and the waves created a gentle melody. Inej couldn’t help but think that this was the Saints’ way to lead them onto their next job, their next adventure…

They dragged their feet until they were near the shore and lowered themselves down. For a moment that felt like an eternity, they gazed to the horizon, the sheer but peaceful resignation palpable in the air.

When Kaz clasped her hand and looked at her, she remembered a conversation she had overhead between the boy and Zoya.

They had adjourned their meeting after having gone over their plan again, everyone had stepped out of the room except for Kaz and Zoya, who had prevented him from exiting with a question. Curious as to why he hadn’t joined her outside, she had stayed behind the closed door, waiting in the long corridor. She had known that Kaz, and probably the queen too, were aware that she was there, but she hadn’t cared much.

“Just out of curiosity, why are you doing this Mr. Kerch rat?” she had asked, her voice reverberating even outside.

“I thought it was pretty obvious, Your Highness. It’s for the reward.” He had replied in that wry tone of his that she knew drove Zoya crazy.

“Oh, but I don’t think it’s just that.” Even without having been inside, Inej could picture the other woman taking one of the positions she had learned the queen preferred. Arms crossed and a frowned expression to better look down on him. In the crows’ time at the palace, the two Suli women had formed an easy and quiet friendship. The captain of the Wraith had helped her queen to reacquaint herself with her Suli heritage and Inej had even told Zoya that once the situation was over, she was going to bring her to her family caravans, to spend some time amongst their people. They had become sisters at heart and by blood.

“Enlighten me with your glorious knowledge then.”

Kaz had always liked playing with fire, but he was always walking a fine line with the sovereign of Ravka. Perhaps he wanted to see how much she could take before she decided to strike him out of existence on the spot.

“When you saw that this was getting dangerous, that it wasn’t going to be an easy job, you could have easily dropped everything and return to Ketterdam with you crew. Why didn’t you? Why stay when you knew the risks?”

Inej had heard genuine interest in Zoya’s voice that didn’t bore any resentment.

“I don’t know what you want me to answer.”

“Try with the truth, I know it’s hard for you, but indulge me. I know you’re not doing this just for yourself and your own benefit, as shockingly as it may seem. You’re still here for Inej, for the promise we had sworn to keep.” The queen had said as if she had found out the deepest secret of the man standing before her.

“Let me get this straight,” he had rasped. “I’ll always do what’s best for me, but I’m also a man of my word and I made a promise.”

There had been a few seconds of absolute silence, in which probably Zoya had studied him with those piercing blue eyes of hers.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but under certain aspects we’re not that different you and I. Your prickly behavior can only last so long, Kaz, but eventually you’ll have to let go. I’ve learned that even the thickest thorns have their purposes.” The queen had said with a wisdom that at times made Inej wondered how many lives the queen had already lived.

“Ah, but here’s where your wrong, Your Excellency. In this scenario you’re comparing me to thorn wood, while actually I’m just barren land on which nothing grows.”

His lapidary answer would have been enough to render speechless anyone, but not Zoya the Grisha queen of Ravka. In her spectacular talent at having always the last word she told him: “You’ll realize that you can’t keep up this cold demeanor forever. I just hope it won’t be too late when you do.”

***

Inej squeezed Kaz’s hand tighter and looked him straight in his brown eyes, a shade lighter in the orange sun. From a distance they heard the sound of bells. Their friends had managed to give the alarm, she only hoped they were already on their way back to the palace. The tolls were shortly followed by another sound: propellers guiding the Fjerdan ships to face the town and the monastery. With a small smile grazing her feature she told him said.

“You were wrong. You were wrong that time when you spoke with Zoya.” If at the beginning of her sentence he had seemed confused, now she could see he understood what conversation she meant.

“You’re not just barren land, Kaz. You managed to build something from nothing, you survived all those terrible things in your life and in the process, you managed to grow, to thrive, to do something good for Ravka and your friends. I’m sure your brother would be proud of you. I know I am.” He didn’t reply.

The rumbling of the aircrafts was almost cacophonic, in contrast to the peace they had basked in not a few minutes ago. Despite that, it was as if the two of them had been placed in a protective bubble of their own, in which not even those machines of war could destroy.

Perhaps it was the lightening, but Inej swore those were unshed tears glinting in Kaz’s eyes. In all the years she had known him, she had never even seen him get emotional or choked up about something, but here, now, on this shore with her, Dirtyhands was doing just that.

“I’ve never wanted for it to end like this – his shoulders shook as he held back a sob – for us, to end like this. Inej, believe me when I tell you that if I could go back, I would do so many things differently. If I could go back, I would start to show you how much I admire you, how much I love you so much earlier than I did.”

Inej’s hand found his face again. The tip of her fingers skimmed his lips in such a tender gesture that they parted under her touch.

“There’s no need for that, Kaz, I already know. And it doesn’t matter how early or late you started. You show me you love me every day.” Her limb continued on her exploration: she touched his brow, his eyes, his cheekbones. “I propose a deal: I’ll find you in the next life Kaz Rietveld, and even there I’ll be waiting for you perched on your windowsill feeding the crows.”

Still looking at her straight in the eye, he let go of her hand, removed his gloves discarding them on the sand and rubbed her disheveled braid between two trembling fingers.

“The deal is the deal. I’ll find you there then.”

The rumble of the ship cannons had reached a deafening peak as their beams struck mercilessly on the monastery in an unescapable trap of fire.

Before the very end, the two held themselves up on trembling knees and embraced the other. A small smile of resigned happiness on both of their faces.

“Stay with me,” Kaz whispered, and unlike another and far time her answer was clear.

“Always.” Inej swore.

Saints protect us both, was the last thing she thought.

And then there was nothing but searing light.

***

In Os Alta the feast on Sankt Nikolai was fast approaching, but even if she was the queen Zoya didn’t feel much festive. The white, still landscape of her country at this time of the year was an accurate representation of what she had been feeling ever since they had managed to find the heart of Sankt Feliks, save Ravka from the plague and its enemies with another peace treaty and bring the Darkling – or Aleksander as he insisted to be called – back to the little palace where they could control him. She knew they were taking a risk, but it was safer to have him closer than not knowing where he was. It had been a hard decision, but she wasn’t going to murder him in cold blood, she was not going to turn into a monster, as he had in his lust for power. In his loneliness.

When everything had come back to a pseudo- normality, when she had had time to think and just be, it was then that everything she had been holding back for the sake of her country hit her with tenfold the force.

Zoya had understood that keeping emotions bottled inside you, was going to eat you alive in the longer run. It was something she was learning every day, and that she was willing to change, if only a bit. She had started letting go in the small gestures of affection she shared with Genya, in the loving words she had with Nikolai, in the playful banters she occasionally allowed herself to have with the rest of her friends. Her family.

And so, as the Grisha queen strode towards her garden, the winter sun barely a strip on the horizon of a new morning, she couldn’t help the tears that fell down in two cold streaks down her face. Zoya brought an arm up to dry them, the sensation of the thick wool of her winter kefta both prickly and a reassurance.

She opened the door of the little corner of her world. Nobody entered this sanctuary except for Nikolai, since she hadn’t allowed anybody else to see her soul from that close. The structure her king had built for her always managed to leave her speechless. The glass and iron were combined in perfect harmony, and when Zoya worked in it by day, the sun would cast and create a series of little mesmerizing rainbows. However, what would always speak to her were the walls, painted by Alina. The roaring dragon flying, the little fox, the ship resembling the Volkvolny mastering the sea, the colors and symbols of the Grisha orders were her most trusted companions during the solitary hours of her gardening.

It was there where Nikolai found her, tending to her plants and flowers. She heard him enter her safe haven, and she supposed he had come out to her when he had awoken and hadn’t seen her resting beside him. He approached her and kneeled beside where she was on the ground, a rather small pot between her hands. Nikolai knew that when she was working here like this, he would have had to let go of his privateer side, and just be the man she had fallen in love with and married. In short, he needed to be her anchor.

“Those are nice flowers,” he said, pointing to the little thing with red petals. A genuine interest coloring his voice.

“They’re wild geraniums.” Was Zoya’s noncommittal answer. Her eyes hadn’t looked up at him.

“And what is that other sprout beside the flowers?” Nikolai prompted her again, indicating the smaller, yet visible plant growing alongside the geraniums. It looked like it was enveloping the geraniums in an embrace, its green leaves a stark, yet so right, contrast with the red of the petals.

This time she raised her gaze, and her blue orbs found a pair of comforting hazel ones staring back at him.

“It’s ivy.” Again, she didn’t let herself go into any sort of explanation.

“I remember you with a vase like this when you left for the Suli caravans.”

So, he had noticed, of course he had. Zoya was always taken aback by the fact that when it came to her, Nikolai was even a closer observant than he already was.

As soon as everything had settled after the whole ordeal, she had decided that she was going to be the one to bring the news to the Ghafas. Her and only her with no escort and no Nikolai in tow. She had told him that she had to do this particular thing alone, and he had just hugged her and encouraged her to go. It had been a spiritual journey of sorts; one she had promised her other Suli sister they would take together…

“Yes,” she said in a whisper. “They were Inej’s favorite flowers. I brought a pot to her parents when I visited the camps. It was the least I could.” With her hand she showed him other three little vases with the same brightly colored flowers and green little sprout of ivy on the side. “Those are for Nina, Jesper and Wylan. It’s their present for Sankt Nikolai.”

“Zoya,” he started. She knew they’ve been over this before, and yet she couldn’t seem to let her sense of guilt leave her.

“They knew what they were doing, it was their choice.”

“Yes, but it doesn’t make it any easier, Nikolai. When I met her parents – she shook her head – they treated me like their own. Like I was family. I’ve never felt so accepted, so… seen in my life, except for when I’m with you. And yet I’m part of the reason why their daughter has been taken away from them. They both have been taken away from them.” A small moment of silence, and once again she couldn’t stop the little tear escaping the corner of her eye.

“I just don’t understand how there can be such kindness after so much loss.” Zoya wondered out loud.

“It’s the nature of human beings, and also our strength.” Nikolai said. “Even after losing everything, we find it in ourselves to get back on our feet and fight for something new, something worth all the suffering.” He dragged himself closer to Zoya with his arms and then raised a hand to cup her cheek, gently steering her face in his direction. His thumb brushing away the stray tear marking her face.

“As long as there is life, there is happiness, Zoya. There is hope for a brighter future. And that’s exactly what Kaz and Inej had brought us: hope to build something better from the ashes.” He paused and behind his eyes she could see the same emotions that had been haunting her, testimony of the fact that he too had been grieving his friends.

“Don’t let your sorrow squander the hope they enabled with their sacrifice, because you wouldn’t be honoring their memories in that ways.”

“Oh, Nikolai,” she exhaled before throwing her arms around him with such a force he momentarily lost his balance. “Thank you!”

“Any time, my queen. I’ll always be here.” He promised.

“And besides, you know how much I love when I’m being all smart and wise. I couldn’t let this occasion to show it to you slip by.” He finished with a much brighter tone. Zoya softly chuckled, something she hadn’t thought being capable of mere months ago and told him with fake exasperation.

“Of course, you couldn’t. It’s your modesty I fell for after all.”

They remained in each other’s arms for an indefinite amount of time. The only indication of the time passing was the sun which har finally risen, and now was beating on the glass panels of the garden. Zoya continued tending to her plants, all a part of her in some capacity, as Nikolai watched her in a comforting silence, seated on the ground and with his back against a small tree.

“Why the ivy?” he asked her all of a sudden. His eyes returning once again on the pots near him.

“It can grow even in poor soils and although it requires more time for it to bloom than other plants, when it does its resilience it’s unmatched.” Zoya saw Nikolai nodding in understanding.

“I also found the meaning behind it fitting,” She added.

“What’s the meaning?”

“It symbolizes the constancy of love.”

There was a brief silence in which she saw him taking in the information.

“It is as fitting as it is beautiful,” he said, while he rose to his feet and brought her closer once again, placing a soft kiss on her dark mane.

As they left to go back to the palace, hand in hand, Zoya thought to herself that in life there were people whose souls were connected and strung in ways that couldn’t be explained by logic. She looked at Nikolai walking alongside her and smiled softly to herself, sure she had found the missing piece of her complicated puzzle in the golden boy beside her.

Her gait hadn’t felt this light in months.

In a glass garden, in a country ruled by a powerful Grisha queen with the heart of a dragon, a plant of geraniums and ivy grew stronger by the day, forever entwined in their embrace of constant love for the other.

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armageddonouttahere · 3 years

Text

Consolation

Title: Consolation

Summary: Takes place after “Putting Others First”, in which Roman sinks into his room and doesn’t leave for a while. Logan is the only one not preoccupied enough to come and lure him out, but in this he has to face emotions he’s been putting on the backburner for a long time.

Pairings: Romantic Logince, background platonic Moxiety

Warnings: Crying, self-doubt, insecurity, negative thinking

Rating: General Audiences

Genres: Fluff, Hurt/comfort (with a happy ending)

Word count: 2,500

A/N: Here we are, at last! I had cranked out the last couple paragraphs of this fic just an hour ago, and I’m very excited. This had gone from a little Logince comfort drabble to a fic of 2,500 words (exactly, though I didn’t do that on purpose). I hope anyone who sees this enjoys it, and everyone who’s been waiting for it likes it even more, after all this suspense. Taglist will be at the end, under the cut.

________________________________________________________________

Logan was at a loss. The aftermath of Janus’ name reveal left all the sides shaken and fragile. Especially Roman. Logan wanted to help, he wanted to be able to tell Roman with certainty that he will be okay, that everything will be alright. Logan needed to be able to look Roman in the eyes and know that the words that came out of his mouth are truths.

But he can’t. So, Logan focused on the problems he could solve. He endeavoured to keep Thomas in working order, though on the inside he may be struggling. Virgil seemed to have taken a backseat, focused on watching over Patton. The most he’d seen of the anxious side was weekly updates and reports on Patton’s condition, how he was feeling, which Logan appreciated greatly. He needed all the positive data he could get.

As the logical side, Logan was somewhat attuned with the other sides’ reasoning and thought process. He needed this information to be accurate in order to know how Thomas works, how he functions. He knew how the other sides try to solve problems, how they understand things. When something or someone throws a wrench in the system it’s one of the few things that affected Logan physically.

In the aftermath after Roman sank out Logan had migraines for weeks. Roman’s flawed logic- his flawed perception of himself- is the one thing that has caused Logan the most physical pain. Roman’s view of himself shifted so drastically to the negative end that Logan felt… sorry? For him?

He felt… he- he felt. Roman made him feel. What did he feel, exactly? Empathy? It was true that Roman’s emotional pain gave Logan physical pain, but the shared anguish went further than that. Logan knew what it’s like to feel wrong, to feel unheard. He related to Roman. He knew what he’s going through.

Their opinions may differ, but Roman still needed consolation. Logan won’t further his belief that Janus is the villain, but Roman doesn’t need a scolding or a lecture, skewed though his viewpoint of Janus may be. He needed someone to listen to him, someone to comfort him.

Logan was aware that he’s no optimal candidate for the matter, not the first choice for consolation (nor the second). He does not possess the endless cuddles and comfort food of Patton, nor does he have the quiet understanding and listening ears of Virgil. His only way of reassuring the prince is through data, probabilities, and chances. Inadequate. Unsatisfactory. Definitely not enough.

Logan made a plan. A plan to make Roman feel better. A plan to get Roman to open his door, something he hadn’t done in two weeks. He gathered things he believed he would need in order to cheer Roman up: the Sherlock screenplay Roman had gifted him at Christmastime, Logan’s book of Shakespeare’s plays (Hamlet being pre-marked with a red sticky-note, in case Roman is feeling increasingly dramatic and macabre), his journal for note-taking, vocab cards, and his laptop- which has a playlist compilation full of ‘cute’ animal videos at the ready. All of this was needed for Logan to get up the courage to knock on Roman’s door. He felt as if he’s putting on an armour of sorts. Preparing himself for battle.

It’s quite funny- the logical side needs bravery and courage to step outside his area of expertise and comfort the prince of the group.

May 17th, 2020. 1830 hours. Attempt #1: Prologue.

Roman has not left his corner of the mindscape for 16 days, 6 hours, and 28 minutes. Virgil has just given an update on Patton’s condition, which is thus: Patton’s “room” has slightly lessened in its intensity of upsetting emotions. The picture frames’ rate of showing unfavourable memories has decreased. Patton has not cried yet today. The Dark Sides, Remus and Janus, seem to be keeping on the “down-low”. Thomas has not had any intrusive dreams in many days. Virgil has been too preoccupied in keeping tabs on Patton to give him anxiety over much. Thomas’ motivation has gone down. His restlessness has gone up. Roman’s unconscious contributions to Thomas’ everyday life have gone down significantly. Thomas has stopped daydreaming. He has stopped thinking about the future, what he has to do tomorrow. He is becoming forgetful and apathetic. As the logical side, there is only so much I can do to keep Thomas in working order without help from the others, that much I can admit. I have put off trying to help Roman in case things only become worse, but the stakes are too high at this point. Action must be taken. I will record the results of this 1st attempt later.

Logan steeled himself, books tucked under his arm. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Around nine at night, he wrote down the results. Roman had been unresponsive to polite requests for entry, knocking, attempts to start a conversation, small-talk, even a referencing desire to build a snowman. He had not responded to propositions of reading from plays or poetry, or any of his favourite literature. In summary, it was almost like speaking to a “brick-wall” (almost, because the door to Roman’s room was made of mahogany).

“Really? Things must be bad,” was Virgil’s response as Logan recounted the events to him later that evening. It was late, almost time for Logan to get some shut-eye after organizing Thomas’ duties for tomorrow. Logan had entered the kitchen hoping that Thomas would get a good night’s sleep so he could have the highest level of productivity the next day, but judging by the Monster Energy drink resting in Virgil’s hands he supposed that was not the case.

“It is certainly concerning. I tried… if not everything, at least a substantial amount of options.”

“Yeah, and if Roman doesn’t answer to a Disney reference… I’m worried about him. Do you want... me to try?” he said, fidgeting. Logan realized he looked uncomfortable with the idea. Virgil must felt a little guilty for not showing up at all during the argument.

“No, I believe that more attempts should be made. To wear him down, in a way. I’m planning to try again tomorrow.”

“Same Bat Time, same Bat Place?”

“An interesting way of putting it, but that’s the idea.” Logan rubbed his eyes and began making a list of all his tasks once he returned to his room.

“Alright. I’m gonna go see Thomas.” Virgil said, getting ready to sink out.

“I assumed you were. And Virgil?”

He popped back up. “Yeah?”

“Please at least try to motivate him a bit, if through fear? I don’t want to deal with a gloomy, unproductive Thomas tomorrow.”

“You got it. I won’t screw him up too much. ‘Night, Lo.”

“Good-night, Virgil.” He was alone.

“Roman?” Logan knocked once more. “Roman, would you be open to company? I wish to speak with you.”

Nothing. He sighed, pushing his journal farther into his pants pocket. He decided to come with substantially less things this time around. To come as he is.

“I’m not entertaining visitors or guests at the present. Please come back another time, thank you,” came a weak and muffled response.

The sound of Roman’s voice gave Logan an ache in his heart which he didn’t want to name. He ignored it, for the moment.

“I just want to speak with you. You’ve been decidedly quiet these past few weeks. Your input, both in-person and in Thomas’ subconscious has dropped a considerable amount. As far as I am aware you have not made your presence known to me or any of the other sides in over two weeks.”

Silence was his response. Facts were getting Logan nowhere. Logan sighed, struggling with himself. Did he tell Roman what he thought in simple terms, what he was trying to say through his data? How could he bare himself to Roman’s listening ears, let himself be known?

“In all honesty, Roman, I’m- I’m…” He took a breath. “I’m worried about you.” He said this in a rush, letting it all out in one breath. Like a Band-aid, as Virgil had stated. The silence that still followed both frightened him and spurred him on.

“Roman, I- I haven’t spoken to you in weeks. I’m afraid of what will happen if you stay isolated for much longer. You’re a necessary part of Thomas’ life, for me to have things to maintain and keep in order. But more than that, more than duties of mine, I mis- I’m… finding your absence upsetting.”

Logan faintly realised his hands had begun to shake, and he clenched them.

“You… mean a lot to m- the Mindscape, to Patton, to Virgil… to everyone. No one means you harm. We need your input on discussions, and revel in your ideas and thoughts. We... miss you.”

Just gotta rip it off.

“I- I miss you, Roman.” Logan shut his eyes, forcing out the idea that he had become emotional enough to begin producing tears. Logic does not cry. “We bicker sometimes and both of us are wrong on occasion, but I would rather have arguments with you than nothing without.”

“Seeing your vibrance and excitement in brainstorming, your happiness in Disney movies and romances, watching your brilliance when creating plays and stories and… being you, I- I find myself… swept up- metaphorically, of course- in every emotion you give off when you’re around me. Seeing you productive and happy gives me more of a reason to work to the best of my ability.”

“It’s… it would be difficult for me to ever say these things in the hearing of the other sides, but… I miss the feelings you bring me when you are around. It is something greater than a job well done, Crofters, or puzzles and murder mysteries being solved.”

“The emotions I feel when you are around are something more than a simple pleasure in watching, in the aesthetical enjoyment of seeing things fall into place. When I’m with you, I feel… spurred into action.”

“Roman, I- I can’t… I can’t bear your absence any longer. I’m worried about you, but more than that, I’m worried that should you keep to yourself, I’ll never… I- I won’t…” Logan swept aside a few tears that had run down his face. His throat ached so much that he feared he wouldn’t be able to get any more words out. The words he spoke next came out in a hoarse whisper.

“Without you I’m afraid I’ll never feel anything again.”

A shuddered gasp tore itself from Logan’s throat as he took his first proper breath in a few minutes. Tears slicked their way down his face freely now. This was, Logan supposed, because such a long drought of emotion had rendered him virtually unable to control any that did overcome him.

“However,” Logan began once more after a few more minutes of silence, his voice quieter now. If anyone else had heard it, they might have said he sounded ashamed. “Should you wish to remain alone for… whatever period of time, I won’t stop you. Asking you to open your door for my sake is extremely selfish of me. I’m… I’m sorry, Roman.”

Logan took one more breath before turning around to leave. He had no idea what the effects of his speech would be, and that scared him. He was in an entirely new territory. This was an unprecedented event, with no similar experiences to compare it to. He had ‘boldly gone where no man had gone before’, so to say.

Logan was so wrapped in his own panic, for that is what it was, he almost missed the imperceptible click of Roman’s door opening as he walked away. Every muscle in Logan’s body tensed, and he prepared for angry words and scathing insults. Logan would face it, however. He turned around, and was met with a sight for some very sore eyes.

Roman held open his door an infinitesimal amount, peering through the crack. Through the small open space Logan could see the prince out of his usual outfit, the beautiful swath of his hair, and one very tearful eye. Logan opened his mouth without knowing what would come out, but the air was knocked out of him.

Roman flung the door open wide and his socked feet ate up the steps between them as he flung his arms around Logan, the force of his embrace almost tipping Logan over. An embarrassing ‘oof’ escaped him at the impact and his hands went up to grip the back of Roman’s jumper after only a second of hesitation.

Logan’s mind filled incredibly fast with all sorts of information: the scent of Roman’s hair, the warmth of his body, how Roman buried his head in Logan’s neck and the slight wetness that came from tears. The way Roman’s nose jutted into his neck, the almost imperceptible touch of Roman’s lips on his shirt collar. Logan’s body betrayed him in an audible catch of his breath as Roman clung to him harder.

“Roman, I-” Logan began in a faint whisper, but Roman only shushed him and tightened his grip, rocking them from side to side ever so slightly.

They stayed like that for Galileo knows how long when the prince peeled himself from Logan. Roman looked upon Logan with eyes so bright from unshed tears Logan would have believed there were stars in them.

“You never said anything. Not a word.”

Their conversation was as hushed as could be, the Mindscape and the world beyond it ceasing to exist and zooming in on the two of them, in this moment.

“I’m not good with words. When it comes to talking about feelings, I mean. You know this.”

“Don’t lie, Specs. That was one of the most eloquent and beautiful things I’ve ever heard.”

Logan scrambled to find a breath within him as Roman smiled up at him. For one of the few times in his life, he found himself with nothing to say.

“It was moving, and heartfelt-” Roman continued, taking Logan’s hand and stepping back, towards his room. He paused in his motions and looked at Logan once more.

“-and it was incredibly romantic.” He said softly.

“I’m- I’m glad.” came Logan’s strangled reply. Roman smiled at him again and led him into his room. There they would sit and talk for hours, and Logan would hold Roman to his chest. They would confess to things bothering them and their hopes, dreams, and fears for the future. It would grow late, and Logan would give in and begin to card his hands through Roman’s hair as the prince drifted off to sleep.

There, in the black-blue of the sky of Roman’s window, scattered with stars and the slanting rays of the moon, Logan would look down upon the prince’s sleeping head and realize, though he had first doubted his abilities, he had been enough. Enough for Roman and for himself. He had been enough.

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Taglist:

@count-woe-laf @psychedelicships

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jamestrmtx · 3 years

Text

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Six | Dogbass (Part 2 of 2 | His POV)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

They stand up like an undead from their grave, almost stumbling to get back to their feet and taking up all the strength they have left to stare at the man with a somber gaze. One look at their face tells they're about to either blow up or faint, the latter Sans assumes more of them based on what he knew about them so far. He stays closer by as a result and tries not to intervene yet, finding himself watching by the sidelines as he always seemed to do even before his life here on the Surface.

"I'm aware I can't just trust these people easily, but that doesn't mean they aren't worthy of being heard." They take a breath far too shaky and followed by a pause far too lasting. "I… I may not be the best (mother/father) out there, but I do care. And I'll show that by making sure I'm aware of the monsters' actions while still allowing my child to keep being friends with them." The skeleton takes his gaze elsewhere when he notices a camera flash from nearby. The owners behind those devices, most recording and some taking snaps of the scene, are either snickering or left with their mouths agape as they continue to engrave the scene both in their phones and minds. "I'll accept whatever decision CPS makes in terms of Frisk's safety, but for now, I…" The human interrupts their own sentence when they stumble, cutting his idea of dealing with those nosy people short. "I…"

They take a slow step back, huff out an exhausted breath, and -- without missing a beat -- stumble again and fall back. The skeleton takes a leap and stands behind them, nulling their fall with his own body. The last words to leave them are incoherent mumbles, and their half-lidded eyes close shut as they press their face against his chest for support.

The man continues with his rant regardless, pricking some annoyance into Sans's mind as he attempts to tune out the noise and concentrate more on the human in his arms.

"Hey," he calls out, louder the second time when it goes unheard. "Can you stay quiet for a sec? They're sick."

"Oh, they're sick alri-"

"He said shut up."

A familiar voice helps him deal with the man, though he doesn't care over who the person is right now. Instead, he drags the fainted human with him back to an empty seat and thanks another when she offers hers. As more people spread out, he's provided with more space to spread their body across the seats left out for them, taking up three in total.

"(Y/N)?"

His call is responded to by another mumble, much weaker and quieter than the last. He sighs and takes their face with one hand, using the other to keep their body from falling off. "Can you open your eyes for me, please? I need you to look at me."

Sans reminds himself of their satchel and turns his gaze around to see the man he'd given up his seat to's thought the same way as him. He gives it to him and helps keep (Y/N) in place while he takes a look inside, retrieving a first aid kit from its contents. The monster whispers a blessing under his breath and turns back around, nodding for the man to step back to his seat while he returns to tending to the fainted human. "Thank you."

The man nods back and receives help from the earlier woman as he limps back to his seat. Hushed fighting noises can be heard between the man who started the fight and the man quelling it, though once more, the skeleton can care less about the owner of that voice as he tries to focus more on the situation at hand. "(Y/N)," he calls out, louder this time. "Do somethin' if you can still hear me."

Another quiet mumble leaves their mouth as they furrow their gaze, likely troubled by a pointed headache -- or what could be a migraine at this point. He stops crouching and kneels next to them instead, taking a few more items from their belongings after he's settled himself next to them. A soft but sudden swerve from the bus sends them too close to the edge, though he manages to gather some Karma from the earlier event, strong enough for him to create a barrier and keep them from following off the makeshift hospital bed. His hands are shaking, though he doesn't acknowledge it. Be it from the agreement's terms looming over him or the human in his hands far too weak for them to last another hour -- or a mixture of both -- he's not initially sure of, but another look at their scrunched up face and how their expression's furrow turns far more harsh and denoting of their ill state makes him dismiss the consequences of the agreement and concentrate more on the health of the human he was barely just getting to know well enough as a potential friend.

He sits down on another of the few empty chairs left out for him and suspends his body over theirs, struggling to meet with their face due to the difference in height despite how little it is compared to most of the people he knew. The human was no taller than his brother, but even then they were still tall enough to make him out to be the shortest when compared with them. His hand reaches out for their face again, and he comes across a cold, cold temperature, sufficient for his soul to jolt in response to it. People around seem to notice what's going on -- be it for his expression or not he isn't paying attention to now though -- and tell the bus driver to hurry, heightening the possibility of a bumpier ride, but leveling out the risks of the human dying on the spot.

While the bus continues to move, the monster continues to find more ways for helping with the situation. He starts by performing CPR on them, but carries on with his original plan when the human doesn't respond to the treatment. He goes off to prepare some alcohol swabs by dousing a few cotton balls and pads with the substance and pressing one after another against their nose, until they manage to cough and open their eyes, even if just a little and even if they end up closing these again.

The monster breathes out a sigh as he realizes it's not lack of oxygen but rather weakness overall, weighing down on their body hard enough to make their breathing scarce and their body and mind equally unresponsive. A shiver crosses with his spine when he imagines the state they could've ended up in had Frisk gone missing for longer than they had. If almost two months of their absence had caused this much of a change in (Y/N)'s health, another one more could've likely been enough to end their life, be it accidentally or -- harder to think about -- purposefully.

"Please, do somethin' again if you can still hear me," he says, setting those thoughts aside.

A hand reaches for his own when he says that, landing just the right amount of gentle for it to pass off as a winter breeze or a ghost's touch.

It doesn't squeeze at his nor does it move from that spot, but that action alone of having their hand move that much helps him relax some more while he waits to arrive at a hospital.

• • •

"What's your relationship with (miss/mister) (L/N)?" the nurse asks.

"I'm an acquaintance," he replies, obtaining a cautious look from the man.

It's made clear that, with how quick he is to bring that question up hardly seconds after seeing the mentioned person be taken away for emergency care, he's eager to set things straight -- and fast.

The monster stretches when the nurse leaves, in dire need of that after carrying the human all the way from the bus stop to the hospital's entrance. The nurse, on the other hand, prepares all the necessary documents for their stay at the front desk, leaving him alone to observe the hospital's indoors from where he's told to wait at, from the white interior to the distinctive smell of sterility. Even the few people who'd helped the monster with the situation at the train stay close by, some sitting by the waiting room with him and others standing near the doorway, but without obstructing any other potential emergency or those going in and out.

When the nurse returns with the papers, Sans takes out the agreement letter and shows it to him. He receives an almost immediate answer as to what the nurse thinks about his relationship with the patient just by the apologetic look on his face, directed at the letter as he reads through it. His face scrunches up, and he offers that look at the monster before giving the letter back to him. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait nearby while a family member or a partner gets here. Have you contacted anyone yet?"

"Yeah." He nods, hands slipping into his pockets as per custom, though now's more of a nervous tick rather than how it tended to be: relaxed and unbothered. "Their aunt should be here soon."

"How soon, sir?"

"Uh, like…" He checks his phone. "Like four hours. It'd take longer, but one of my friends is gonna pick up their kid later to help her get 'ere quicker."

The nurse crosses his arms, sighs, and gives a knowing yet heartfelt look at him. "What can you do to prove you're trustworthy, then? I need someone we can trust to test something on the patient." His eyes narrow as he scrutinizes the skeleton's face and overall attire. "You're a scientist, right?"

"Used to be."

"Good enough for the occasion. Could you come here with me for a second? There's something we think could help your friend out, but we need the approval of someone knowledgeable from the Underground -- someone who knows better about this kind of stuff than we do." He lets his arms go and eases his expression with a smile. "If you do that, you can check on the patient soon -- with a nurse's close supervision, of course."

Not really giving too much thought to the situation, Sans shrugs and agrees with an 'alright'. "What's your doubt?" he asks.

"I need to show it to you," the nurse replies. "It's about a strange substance discovered in some humans after they fall to the Underground."

Sans accompanies the man to his desk, who takes a small set of keys from his back pocket, unlocks the bottom drawer, and motions for him to stand close by. "It has a rather… risky medical history, so we wanted to ask someone with more knowledge before doing anything too rash." From there, he takes out a thin but tall, unlabeled glass bottle and leaves an empty syringe behind. Just from the neon red colour of the substance and its viscosity, both qualities able to be seen thanks to the material it's contained in, Sans already has his answer: no.

Determination was far from safe when injected on rather than when it naturally came to be. Even humans could feel the aftereffects of such a strong substance in their veins, and for most monsters, it was either lethal, fatal, or dangerous enough to deform them for life. He hesitates at the thought of it being used for malicious reasons, but eases up a bit when taking into account how the nurse is practically showing his discovery to him without any need for secrets or lies. He assumes that -- if the man were to have any bad intentions -- he wouldn't simply be flaunting the substance around or acting that nonchalant about its existence.

"It's not safe," is the first thing he says, words almost rushing from his teeth. "Injecting that to a human -- or anyone, actually -- is taking a huge risk. That substance should come naturally, and not by injecting it into the subject's body."

The nurse frowns, but relents. He sets the bottle back where it was, closes the drawer, and locks it back down. Then, he turns back to the monster and adds, "So considering those risks, you agree the treatment's off the question for this patient?"

"Definitely. It's better to do some more research before getting in on anythin', even if some of our past scientists did experiment with that substance at the Underground."

Nodding, he steps aside from the desk and gestures for the skeleton to follow him off to the hallway, far from the entrance and the waiting rooms. As they both walk, the man stays quiet and appears lost in thought, though that changes when he stops meeting the floor during his daze and asks, "Could you at least give me more details on this substance later, then?"

Sans agrees with a quiet hum, not in uncertainty, but due to being lost in thought himself. "As long as it ain't used on anybody for testin', then sure. We can work on that."

The man stops walking and lights up with a smile. "Excellent!" he exclaims, almost beaming in response. "Follow me to the patient's room. I'll have another one of our nurses watch over you while I'm gone."

He smiles back, though a bit late due to the topic still occupying his mind. "Thank you."

• • •

The room's North Pole cold, bleak, and dimly lit, though the latter's fixed when the nurse meant to watch over him passes through the hallway. She turns a few more lights on and stands in front the open door, greeting him with a stern gaze. A notepad rests in her arms, written on to such an extent that there's more ink rather than paper.

In enters the woman, brown skinned and brunette compared to the pale and ginger haired man from earlier ago. Wrinkles can be seen on her face, revealing her to be older compared to the seemingly novice nurse who attended him before. A few grey hairs stick out this way and that, though her professionally tidy bun masks most of it away with a scrunchie.

"Stay in that chair, sir, and don't get near the patient," she demands, staring down at him. "And please hand over the agreement letter. We require a copy of it to have proof of your acquaintanceship with the patient."

He does as told, both in terms of keeping his distance from (Y/N) and in giving her the letter. "Why the distance, though?" he asks. "Is it somethin' contagious?"

"No." Her forbidding look deepens and almost turns to a glare. "We simply do not want you touching the patient unless it is absolutely necessary."

It takes him a second to process the sentence, though he nods after that's done with. "I understand." He walks to where she points at, though stays standing as he continues to talk with her. "Could I know what's their condition, then? It... kinda looked like a panic attack, but then they also told me they didn't eat or sleep well for the past two months."

Appearing surprised for just a moment, the woman returns to her sedate expression as she checks her notepad again. "Well…" She huffs. "You're not too far off. Both of their symptoms combined and worsened each other out, which resulted in them becoming that weak." She then takes out a cellphone from her pocket and unlocks it, tapping on the screen a few times before having a sound play, likely from a recent, viral video based on what's spoken throughout it. "Would you care to look at this recording for a minute? One of the witnesses present during the incident caught you acting rather… strangely with the patient." The nurse gives the phone over, though she hesitates when her hand brushes with his, an act of hesitation masked by a stern visage.

The first thing he sees when replaying the video is nothing out of the ordinary given the situation displayed: him giving CPR to someone in need of that treatment. It's not until he remembers how touchy such a subject can be considering the factors of who he is and his reputation on the Surface -- and even more so when taken out of context -- that he understands why she's made that comment. "I was giving 'em CPR. Be a bit weird if it'd be doing anythin' else considerin' the situation, don't ya think?" He looks up from the video of him placing pressure on their chest and giving them mouth-to-mouth (or at least, his technically was one, taking into account that thing he could do with his skull whenever he ate or drank something; it was a thing most of the comments on Phrasebook talked about rather than over what's happening to the human in need: the strange malleability of the monster's skull, with some others questioning over how he could even be performing CPR despite not having any lungs) as he tries to bring air back into their system, and holds back the urge to point out how obvious that situation is. "What's wrong with that?"

"Couldn't have someone else done it? There were plenty of people present."

"I'd say that's a bit of an insensitive question to ask after what they've been through."

"Answer my question, sir."

Sans sighs and hands the phone back to her. "It was a moment of high tension. I couldn't help what happened back there, and if I did wait 'til someone else showed up, that would heighten the chances of me losing 'em before they could get 'ere."

"Maybe so, but that first treatment gave no results. They remained in a coma until you rubbed alcohol on their nose. If you knew that would work, then why did you not do that in the first place?"

"Same reason why I didn't wait 'til someone else came to give 'em CPR. It was a moment of rush n' panic."

"But you were still-"

"...Sans?"

For what has to be the first time since meeting the human, the monster feels relieved at hearing them call him by his casual name. It's a faint and strained attempt, revealing they've used all their strength just to call out for him. Never he would've imagined feeling so pleased at hearing a still-to-be friend's voice, nor does he allow himself to let his other type of imagination run wild, one related to the warmth he feels in his soul when turning to their side and seeing them awake -- weak and confused, but still there.

"What happened?" they ask, frowning. "Are… Are you okay?"

He tries to approach them, though he soon receives a warning from the nurse not to. "I'm, uh… I'm alright," he says, replying from the distance of the chair he's been told to sit on. "Don't really think it's helpful to ask this, but… What about you?"

They chuckle and a smile keeps itself on their face. "Everything hurts, but I feel way better than I did back at the bus."

He grins. "This's probably a wild guess, but has it gotta do with having no one screamin' at you?"

They nod and let their smile grow, albeit at the cost of triggering a sudden and visibly acute headache. "Definitely," they reply.

"And having nobody else gossipin' about it?"

"That, too." Their smile fades as they say that. "Could you... come over here for a moment?"

Sans spares a glance at the nurse, only to receive a quick nod in approval and a hint of a smile. Though left unsure as to what's caused such a sudden change in her temperament, he takes up the opportunity without protest and stands next to (Y/N), waiting for them. "What's up?" he asks.

The human makes an effort to stand up, but fails soon after. To make up for that, they reach out for his hand and squeeze it, smile making its comeback as they reply with, "Thank you." A pause follows as they let go of his hand, tucking theirs under the sheets. "You've acted far sweeter than that dog we met at the park today."

"Settin' some high standards here, huh?"

They let out a laugh. "It… hurts when I do this." So instead, they grin. "Never thought being happy would be so painful."

The skeleton grins back at them and quirks an iris, estranged by their feelings and their choice of words alike. "Even after what you've been through today?"

They nod. "Even after all that, I'm... I'm happy now."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Hope y'all have a decent New Year's Eve! This's the last update of this year, so here's to wishing 2021 is a little bit better for all of us. It's unrealistic to say things will be back to normal at the drop of a hat, but there's no harm in staying hopeful for a better future.

Take care, and stay safe! ❤️

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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agent-cupcake · 4 years

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Third place winner @atomicchocolatecookie asked for a fluffy Yuri scenario where reader was a mage and artist and although this isn’t as fluffy as I kind of intended... I hope you enjoy it?

POV Yuri x Reader

“You called for me, yeah?”

Yuri’s greeting caused you to jump up from your chair, sketchbook pages fluttering to the floor. He probably should have knocked rather than let himself in, considering the circumstances, but the breach in etiquette didn’t seem to stick to you after the surprise faded. Sometimes you scolded him for such antics, but not today. A pity, you were pretty cute when you were indignant. Then again, he did feel a sort of fondness for the way your eyes softened for him, the way you smiled despite being startled. If he had any doubt as to the reason for you calling for him, it was all cast out with that look. Yuri was good at noticing things. Little things, signs in people’s behavior that gave away their feelings. Not that you ever tried particularly to hide what you felt, or perhaps you just hadn’t recognized the feelings for what they were. In a way, receiving your invitation was a relief because, to him, your affection had been obvious for a while. You cared for him. Loved him, even. Yuri had seen it all before. But in that second, appraising you honestly, Yuri decided that he didn’t mind. It was you, after all. Maybe you weren’t all too different from countless of the other women he’d enjoyed, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He’d come to like you quite a bit and after everything that had happened-

Well, every person had a vice. Yuri was more than well aware that he’d never find absolute regardless; what was a petty indulgence on top of that?

“Yuri! You came,” you exclaimed, just a touch breathless. He doubted that you meant for it to be appealing, but the happy relief in your tone was alluring in a way, even if the hesitant concern in your smile was somewhat condescending. “I didn’t know if you would.”

“With such a cryptic invitation, how could I not?” Yuri responded with a playful confidence to squash the irritation of your tone, dangling the sheet of paper you’d sent to him between two fingers. It was a simple thing, merely inviting him to visit the collection of rooms you’d claimed as a home and art studio whenever you stayed in Abyss, but the lines were clearly drawn up and he was more than capable of reading between them.

“I thought you might want some company. I know you’ve been having...” You paused, chewing on your lip as you carefully selected the right words. Your lip was already red from the treatment, a sign that you’d been stressed. Or nervous. “A hard time.”

Yuri could have laughed at such a massive understatement, but he held off. It wasn’t like there was anything funny about losing dozens of his people in a surprise ambush from hired thugs. It was an insult. A tragedy. An event he should have been able to avoid. Although Yuri knew the aim of the attack was to get him to let off on the nobility, although he absolutely knew that it meant he couldn’t give in, sometimes, between trying to organize aid for the widows of his men and trying to restructure things to fix any compromised pieces of his plan, it was hard to justify to himself. Sometimes the notebook in his pocket was a dead weight, a body count he had to support with every step onward. It wasn’t funny at all but Yuri forced a smile and a confident, if teasing, voice. He was meant to be strong. Besides, weakness would hardly benefit him now. That’s what he always did to get what he wanted, wasn’t it? Lied, pretended. It didn’t matter.

“Aw, you were worried about me,” he cooed, holding your gaze with a winning smile. It had the intended effect, even if you tried to play off your embarrassment. Your reaction was cute. Yuri liked the way your eyelashes fluttered as your eyes leapt around, unable to meet his. The way your fingers danced at your side. You had pretty hands, graceful and dexterous in the way so strongly associated mages, musicians, and artists. They were softer than most, but not without callouses. Yuri would have been a liar to say he hadn’t wondered what they might feel like, if they were as clever as he thought they might be.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you answered. “You’ve seemed different since… It happened. So I wanted to do something to help you feel better.”

“You’re cute,” Yuri said, wondering in an abstract way if you were always this bashful when it came to men or if he was special. “But as you can see, I’m fine. Not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment.” That was why he’d come, wasn’t it? You could distract him —you were willing to!— and with just a word, with a single touch, he could have you at his complete disposal. And maybe that would help. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he used another to soothe his aching spirit. The self-loathing of his actions hardly even registered. Not yet, at least. “Although,” Yuri said in a lower voice, taking a few steps closer. You were soft, in a way. Guileless and charming in how earnestly you regarded him as you met his eyes. It was a beauty that was all at once shy and overt, and one that he found inexplicably compelling right then. He was close enough to smell the faint fragrance on your skin, close enough to make his intentions clear. “Let’s drop the act, yeah? I think it would be better if we both more honest about what we really want. What I-”

“Wait!” you said, cutting him off. Strangely, you took a step back, an action an odds with your bright eyes and blushing cheeks, clear signs of attraction. “Um, sorry. What I want, why I invited you here, is to give you... I have a gift that I wanted to give you.”

Yuri, caught somewhere between amusement and surprise, stopped and raised an eyebrow. “A gift?”

“Yes, I painted you something. I thought that it might lift your spirits a bit. Maybe,” you said, your excitement edged with a skittish mania now that the mood had turned so abruptly. You gestured to the easel behind you, one that was covered by a ghostly sheet thrown on top. Yuri had discounted it as a trivial piece of furniture, a seemingly omnipresent setup in your rooms.

A gift. You had never painted anything for him specifically, although he had seen some of your portrait work. Painting people was a special hobby of yours when you weren’t engaged in other endeavors. Sometimes he wondered why you bothered at all with the criminal work, but you insisted that art was a mere fancy.

“Consider me intrigued,” Yuri said honestly, dropping the flirtatious effect. “May I see this ‘gift’?”

“Yes, of course,” you said in an overly bright voice. Insecurity and awkwardness was written into every line of your body, scratched deeply into the furrow or your brow and purse of your lips as your smile fell. Somehow, even this was a little charming. “Right. Well, I guess there’s no point in waiting. So-” You pulled the sheet off the easel, letting it drop to the floor without ceremony. Yuri wanted to say something, make some sort of comment about your behavior, but when you pulled the sheet away from the easel, he was rendered speechless.

What could he say?

“Do you like it?” you asked softly, peeking at him sideways.

Yuri was well aware of his beauty. He primed and projected it in the scathingly vain way only an auctioneer of the self could be. His looks were well documented by every painter and wordsmith who had ever attempted and failed to capture him in some capacity. But you hadn’t painted beauty. Portrait-Yuri wasn’t looking at the viewer, but at something past the edges of the canvas. He was smiling, commanding, but there was something else. His allure wasn’t aesthetic, but transcendent of such a trivial attribute. That man both was and wasn’t Yuri. Like he was staring into a mirror reflecting a perversion of reality.

“Yuri?” you asked when he didn’t answer.

Yuri blinked, clearing his throat and forcing a smile. It was harder this time, with such an obvious reminder of what the genuine article was meant to look like right in front of him. “Sorry, I was admiring your technique.”

You swelled with the almost-praise, your eyes alight as they searched his face for any response. “So you like it?”

Did he? Yuri looked back at the canvas. With the second glance, he was able to understand what was wrong with the image, what troubled him so intimately. You had painted a hero. Portrait-Yuri’s smile held no deceit. In his posture, there was no pretend. The man you’d painted lacked Yuri’s sin. The hands he raised in passion as he seemingly addressed someone or someones unseen were clean of filth. After the sleepless hours he had spent trying to clean up a mess that was a direct result of his wrongdoings, the image was like a bludgeon of his flaws. After being so entrenched in the darkness of the world he’d submitted himself to, the light was jarring.

“You can be honest with me,” you told him when he didn’t answer.

Yuri shook his head, trying to push back the feeling swelling in his chest. “I didn’t pose for this, so I’m trying to remember when this might have been,” he lied. Misdirected, really.

“Oh, it was a while ago. You were rallying support, uh, explaining how you were gonna make the nobles take responsibility,” you told him. It took a second for the event to come to mind, but eventually, Yuri remembered vaguely what you were talking about. Moons and moons ago, then, he couldn’t even recall if the two of you had been close at that point. Yuri had nearly forgotten about that night. “Nobody believed that you could do it. I don’t even think I did,” you added after a moment of thought, staring at the painting rather than meeting his eyes. “You were called crazy and overly optimistic and naive. But when you got up to speak, I realized something.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

You turned to him, your eyes sincere. Intense. “It’s not blind optimism or naivety. It’s not like you lie to yourself that the world is better than it is. In fact, I’d hazard a guess that you see the worst parts of the world more than anyone else. But you don’t submit to such a cruel fate or accept that it’s the way things must be. You want the world to be a better place, and you have the will to change it. That night, that’s what I saw.”

If he were any lesser man, you would have rendered him speechless all over again. But he was Yuri, and a response formed alongside a smirk that didn’t even half reach his eyes. “You’re wrong about that,” he said. “About me.”

“I know what I saw, that’s why I painted you in the first place,” you told him stubbornly. “I didn’t know if I was going to give it to you until now, but since everything that happened… I thought maybe you’d need a reminder.”

He knew the words would come out too sharply before he spoke them, but Yuri couldn’t stop himself from asking, “A reminder of what, exactly?”

“Art can’t change the world,” you said, ignoring his tone. “At least, nothing I could do. But you know, people use statues and paintings of saints to inspire their good actions. They look at paintings of Nemesis as an example of evil. When I look at this Yuri, I see you. The you I think you want to be. This is the man that history will remember. So even when bad things happen... Even then, this is-”

“A little paint can’t cover the things I’ve done. That man,” Yuri nodded to the portrait, “isn’t real.” His voice lowered, softened. “Besides, history would be better off forgetting me.” He looked at you, so earnest and trusting, and ran a hand over his face as the guilt formed into a sick slush in his chest for what he’d intended to do. “You would be better off forgetting me, too.”

“Then why do you fight so hard to do good things?” you asked him. “If you believe that the bad things you’ve done have destroyed any hope of redemption, why do you leverage your power to help make things better for the people in Abyss? If you truly believed you were beyond any hope, then doing those things would make you an idiot. Sorry, Yuri, but I don’t buy it.”

“Should I try and convince you, then?” Yuri asked. “I wonder what it would take. If you wish to exalt the best of me, you should know the worst, yeah?”

“Fine,” you said, no hesitation or doubt in your voice. You put your hands on your hips, tilting your chin upward in defiant determination. Yuri was no artist, but if he could have saved the sight of your eyes at that moment he would have gladly become one. The look was not the simple infatuation of a girl, or the affectionate and misguided love he believed had kept you trailing around him. Could he even call it love at all? When you looked at him like that, he felt oddly exposed. Only minutes ago he had believed fully in his ability to manipulate the situation, but right then he wasn’t so sure. “Tell me about your guilt and shame and listen when I tell you that you can be forgiven. That I forgive you.”

Forgive him? You? You, a master forger and gremory who wanted to be recognized first and foremost as an artist. You, a whimsical fool who insisted that beauty was for everyone to enjoy, scoring the ungrateful aristocracy who hoarded it all for themselves. You, who had joined his cause out of a childishly expressed desire to do good. Yuri knew he was guilty of countless unthinkable sins, he knew that enough blood dripped from his hands to drown in, and he knew that even the goddess’s clemency could not save him from reaping what he had sown. Yuri could argue the point if he wanted to. He would have been right to say that he was deserving of your disgust and distrust. He should have done his best to avail you of whatever love you believed you felt for him.

But he looked at the portrait you had painted, and couldn’t. Was that really what you had seen that night? Could that really be him? Those whose names were listed in his notebook, would they believe in such a thing? In such a man?

Eventually, Yuri relented to the war of his thoughts, shaking his head and putting a hand to his temple. “Who put you up to this, I wonder,” he mused.

“We were all worried,” you said, “But nobody put me up to this. It was the only way I could think to remind you of why you’re needed and appreciated. And I was worried because I... I care about you. I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

Those words pulled him from his thoughts, set something within him at ease. The awkward way you stumbled over the words, the way your voice softened them so sweetly. Yuri had been confessed to in hundreds of ways but never had simple admissions been used to such great effect. It was also a reminder that despite your clear feelings, you had rejected his advances in an attempt to make him feel better. Seemingly inadvertently, you had turned everything around on him. Yuri wasn’t sure if he liked the feeling, but he felt a sort of appreciation for the way you’d managed it all.

“Do you, now?” he asked suggestively, peeking up at you. Sure enough, blushing, your iron-clad determination having eased up. But the look was different. Or perhaps his way of appreciation had just changed.

“Don’t tease me, Yuri, I’m being serious,” you said.

“Who’s to say I’m not being serious? I seriously was asking how you felt. I’d like to know these things.”

You hesitated. “Really?” you finally asked, your tone adorably earnest.

He laughed. It wasn’t full, but it wasn’t fake either. It felt good, as if some weight had been taken from his chest. “Whatever am I going to do with you.”

“Trust me?” you asked.

When Yuri looked up at you in surprise at the request, something within him softened. He wasn’t a fool, nor was he particularly good at lying to himself. It was affection. Desire of the heart. Not just for you, but for the portrait of him you’d created. The desire to be that version of himself.

He smiled, although it was a confused expression, half bewildered and half reeling from surprise. “Maybe I will.”

#fire emblem three houses #FE3H #yuri leclerc #yuri leclerc x reader #fe yuri #fe yuri x reader #my writing #lmao guess how many words this is bc it's not what it should be #i'm the worst

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inorganicone2230 · 4 years

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Time and Time Again (Part 1) 1930′s Yandere!Overhaul x Fem!Reader

Prologue TBC in Part 2

Summary: An accident that should have killed you has instead left you stranded decades in the past with no apparent way to get home. You are saved and offered assistance by Kai Chisaki, a charming young man at the head of a powerful yakuza organization, who oddly enough believes your story. But Kai seems to have more on his mind concerning you than simply lending a helping hand, and as the days turn into weeks, you begin to wonder if he’s ever going to let you leave.

Warnings: None for this chapter. Warnings and tags will be updated as the chapters progress.

Side Note: I do NOT and never will condone the actions committed in this and future chapters, please be mindful and respectful of the fact that all of this is purely fiction.

And as always, I want to give a BIG thank you to my amazing friend @talpup for all the brainstorming and encouragement on these stories! I’m sure I would have given up on this blog a while ago if it wasn’t for all of their help. I highly encourage anyone who takes the time to read this to go over to their page or their AO3 account under the same name and check out their works, especially Chaos and Erase The Shadow. They are two of my favorite BNHA fics of ALL TIME!

Frigid and stiff.

Those were just a few of the words that came to you as your eyes began to flutter open, the slight facial movement causing the splitting pain in your head to become the forefront notice of your mind. The rest of your body was sore and stiff as well, but your head was where the pain was the worst. You were wet, your clothes drenched, the cloth water logged and heavy as you tried to push yourself up. It hurt to move, but at least it didn’t feel like anything was broken or dislocated, that was a plus in your book.

Gingerly turning your head to look around, it took your brain a few moments to process and catch up with the events of what happened before you woke up in this state. It all came rushing back to you at once, the walk, finding the old path that led to the cliff and then the sudden breaking of the ground under your feet as you screamed and fell over the ledge. You tried to recall if you remembered hitting the water, but the rest up until now was blank, meaning you must have passed out during the fall. Your vision was blurry and your brain felt like mush, but even those handicaps didn’t get in the way of you determining that this place was nowhere near the spot you originally fell from. From what you could recall of the spot where you were before, one side of the river had been right up against the cliff wall that you had fallen from, you still had no idea how you survived a fall like that, and the other was along a rocky shore and a forest. Now though, the waters of the river were much calmer and the stretch of water was flanked on either side by sand and thick forest, the current having likely carried you quite a ways down before you washed up on this little shore.

On pure instinct, you reached into your still zipped up pocket for your phone, along with its accompanying solar powered charger and were amazed to find that the expensive waterproof/shock absorbent case had done its job and protected the delicate tech device’s. It turned on just fine and there wasn’t a scratch on it, but it was telling you that you had no service, so you would still need to find some sort of civilization or an area near a cell tower before you could get help.

“This is bad.” You said to yourself as you finally stood up on shaky legs. The movement caused your already splitting head to pound even harder and when you pulled your hand away from your temple, you were unsurprised to find that what you’d been hoping was just water running down your face was actually blood. “And it just keeps getting better and better.” You groaned, internally chastising yourself for not having brought a little first aid pack just in case and vowing to do so from now on no matter what.

Looking around, it was impossible to tell where you were or how far down the river had carried you, but you figured that your best option would be to follow the flow of the water and hope that it would eventually lead you to some place you could get help from.

As you slowly began making your way along the bank of the river, it didn’t take you long to realize that the sun was beginning to set already and what very little warmth the day had to offer was quickly disappearing as the sun sunk lower and lower behind the mountains. Your clothes were still saturated with water and you were so cold that it physically hurt to move, it was impossible not to focus on it when every move you made brought the reminder to the forefront of your mind as the bitter cold material clung to your body and made you shiver to the point that your teeth were chattering uncontrollably. If you didn’t find help soon, it was likely you wouldn’t make it to see the morning. If the exhaustion didn’t make you keel over first, then the next option you’d have to take a guess at would be hypothermia setting in, but you needed to keep going, you had to find someone to help you or you were a goner.

So, despite how painfully cold you were, you did what you could to ignore it, along with the throbbing ache in your head and pushed on further into the darkening forest.

—————

Something was wrong...

It was pitch black out and it took about two hours of near painful and freezing walking, but you did eventually manage to find a road. There was a distinct lack of streetlights though and if it weren’t for the headlights of the occasional passing car, you may have missed it entirely, but that wasn’t what was bothering you, not entirely at least.

No, what you were finding odd were the types of cars that were passing you.

Oldsmobile was the word that came to mind when you managed to get a decent look at them. Every single one looked like they were brand new, like they were from the turn of the century or something straight out of a period piece style movie. Not that there were many cars out and about, but of the few that had passed by, not a single one seemed to be a newer model. It made you wonder if there had been some kind of event going on nearby, like a car show or something similar, but that didn’t explain why every car driving by looked like it was from a different era.

However, the model of the cars wasn’t your biggest concern right now, what was truly your greatest dilemma was that none of them were stopping to help you. You had tried to flag down every single one that passed and they all either just kept going or outright picked up speed. Your cell phone still wasn’t picking up a signal either and by this point, what little bit of adrenaline you had been running on before was now gone and you could feel the stress and fatigue finally starting to hit you. Walking was becoming increasingly difficult and with every meager step you took, you could feel your head pounding harder and harder. All you wanted to do was pass out and sleep for days, but doing that here would more than likely mean a death sentence.

Tears brought on by both fear and frustration began to roll down your cheeks as you took another painful step, your knees locking up and almost buckling under your weight. A broken sob escaped and that one sob led to more and more following in its path as you stumbled down the darkened roadside.

“Please… someone help…”

—————

“I want this leak taken care of by morning Hari, the last thing we need right now is the police sniffing around where they’re not wanted.”

“Understood Sir, I’ll inform Rappa that he’ll need to pay them a visit tonight.” The driver of the sleek black Packard replied, his gaze briefly shifting to his rear-view mirror to make eye contact with the handsome golden eyed male in the spacious back seat.

“No. Rappa’s too messy and we need this handled quietly and efficiently, but it still needs to send a message to anyone looking to capitalize on our name and turf that this kind of behavior won’t be overlooked.” The man’s gloved fingers tapped against his knee in thought for a moment before coming to a conclusion. “Send Nemoto instead. Tell him to make it look like a generic hit, like another organization was icing out their competition. Execution style should look standard enough.”

“I’ll handle it as soon as we get back.” Hari replied. “It’s late, but is there anything else you wish for me to handle before tom- what the hell?” Hari’s voice trailed off as he spotted something, or rather someone, walking along the roadside as he slowly drove by. It was too dark to make out the features while in a moving vehicle, but whoever it was, they were far too shapely to be a man as far as he could tell.

Kai heard the way Hari’s sentence had trailed off and he glanced in the same direction his lieutenant’s gaze was briefly focused as he continued to drive and watch the roadway. It took a moment for his eyes to spot what had caught his attention but when he did, he was rather surprised.

Walking along the side of the road was a strangely dressed woman. It was hard to tell what she really looked like in the brief moment that the headlights had hit her, but she appeared to be in trouble. She had her arms wrapped around herself as she shivered from the cold mountain air and it looked as if she was soaking wet, not a good combination in these kinds of open elements. Normally Kai wouldn’t have cared about some nobody, but this was an isolated mountain road miles and miles away from any towns or people and she didn’t appear to be prepared to handle this kind of terrain or temperature. Her clothes, while strange looking and not normal for a woman, seemed to be ill equipped for being out here and her shivering posture only added to that conclusion.

As a young child, Kai had been abandoned and left for dead on the streets, surviving on nothing more than his wits and determination to stay alive. This was how his life had stayed for a good number of years, but that all changed one summer when he’d met the man that helped forge him into who he was today, the man that took him in and raised him up to be strong and confident, the man who gave him everything.

Pops.

Pops had found him on the streets and gave him life again, had fed and clothed him, hired all the best tutors to teach him how to read and write as well as an assortment of other curriculum's, had treated him as if he were his own son. And one of the most important lessons that Pops instilled in him was to always treat a woman with a certain amount of respect and dignity, to be a gentleman. Kai took everything Pops taught him very seriously, and that included this. So while Kai himself wasn’t some paragon of virtue or that good of a person by any stretch of the word, seeing a cold and lost young woman alone on an empty mountain road, he couldn’t help but flash back to all those lessons and feel the need to help her. Though his curiosity over her strange clothing and wanting to know what exactly she was doing out here definitely played a part in deciding his next decision.

“Hari, pull over.” Kai ordered, his tone firm and commanding.

Hari did as he was told without question, the moment he had seen the woman he knew that this was more than likely going to happen. Kai was nowhere near being a model citizen, but he wasn’t a complete monster like most believed him to be, his acts of kindness were simply very selective and few and far between. In many ways, Kai’s anger was like an irritable cat having its fur stroked in the wrong direction; if one played by Kai’s rules and did everything as he expected, then he would remain content, if one didn’t play the game by Kai’s standards… well then they better pray that his claws were the worst of their punishment.

Kai told Hari to stay put in the car and to keep it running as he stepped out to look towards the young woman who was now illuminated by the headlights. She was a tiny little thing already, but the way she was shivering and huddled in on herself made her look even smaller. She was half soaked to the bone, desperately in need of a bath and beat up as well, he could already see the dried blood that coated the right side of her head and long (h/c) hair as well as other numerous little cuts and scrapes that were littered across her face and bare hands. Cleaned up she would be quite the beautiful young woman all things considered. He was definitely right about her clothes though, they were some of the oddest garments he had ever seen on a woman. From the damp black coat that looked like it was more for appearance than practicality, to the provocative skintight trousers and fitted leather boots that both concealed her body and showed it off, it was a far cry from the usual long skirts, baggy pants and pressed blouses that most women wore, but still very flattering on her.

But it wasn’t until she lifted her head to meet his gaze that he truly became captivated.

It was her eyes, they were big and (e/c) and they were staring at him as if he was an oasis in a vast desert, as if he was her god given solace and it left a strange feeling chorusing through him. The best way he could describe it is by remembering a time from his childhood, when he was still very little and his aversion to all things filthy had not quite set in as strongly yet, when he had fallen out of a tree he had climbed. He remembers how it had seemed as if time slowed down around him as he plummeted down towards the ground, how he felt weightless and it left a tickling sensation in his stomach right before he impacted with the ground. It was a rush and his desire to find out who this woman was was even more consuming now than it was a few seconds ago.

“Are you alright Miss?” He asked smoothly, trying his best to sound as cordial as possible so as not to spook her. “You appear to be injured.”

Finally, after what seemed like forever, a vehicle had stopped for you and a seemingly handsome young man stepped out to ask if you needed assistance. Your head was pounding and your vision was so blurry though that all you could tell about him was that he had short dark hair and was dressed in a stylish dark suit with a slight vintage look to it and a black dust mask that covered his face from the nose down.

“I-I had an accident…” Your voice sounded hoarse and weak when you spoke and it took everything you had to stay standing upright as you wobbled on your feet. “Fell in the river while… while on a walk.”

Well that explained why you looked half drowned, Kai thought, his concern rising when he saw the way you were swaying from side to side. Just as he was about to speak again, you beat him to it, but what you said left him confused since he had no clue as to what you were speaking of.

“Pardon me Miss, but what did you say?” He calmly inquired.

You shook your head, trying to clear away the cloudy haze and black spots from your vision as you fought to get the words out through your dry mouth. “My-My cell phone is acting weird, can’t-can’t get a signal… could I borrow yours?”

Cell phone? What was that?

Kai knew what a telephone was, they were still relatively new though and very expensive. But he had never heard of a cell phone before, and what was that you had said about a signal? This was becoming more and more intriguing by the second. Were you speaking of something real or were you merely hallucinating and babbling nonsense?

“I am afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about Miss. I’ve never heard of a cell phone before, but if you have someone you’d like to get in contact with, you’re more than welcome to use the telephone I have back at my home.” He gestured towards the still running car, fully expecting a heartfelt thank you and for you to get in without further questions, what he got instead was not at all what he had been expecting.

His head shot up when he heard you scoff and a rough, humorless chuckle fall from your pretty mouth. “That-That’s just great…” You mumbled sarcastically, just loud enough for him to hear. “First car to stop and help and it’s some jackass wanting to play fucking mind games with me.” You looked him in the eye, you gaze hard and unflinching. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll take my chances with walking. The last thing I need right now is help from some asshole who just wants to fuck with my head.” You spat bitterly and began to make your way past him to continue on down the road, but stopped when your movement brought on a sudden dizzy spell and before you knew it, you were slumping to the ground as dead weight, your vision going completely black as you quickly lost conscience. Your anger and frustration had cleared your head for only a moment, but just as quickly as the clarity had come, it was gone again, and it took your waking mind right along with it.

If he was a more sensitive man, Kai may have been appalled and shocked at the way you had just spoken to him. Most women who met him saw his wealth in the way he dressed and carried himself and most threw themselves at him in an effort to gain his attention, some succeeded, some were cast aside, but what they all had in common was a more conniving way of going about it. They were flirty, trying to sway his opinion of them by stroking his ego with pretty words and coy smiles, and it had become boring. When he was younger, he had taken women to bed only to avoid being looked down on by his peers and other members of the organization, and while he had made sure the ones he chose had greatly enjoyed themselves, he himself had never gotten much more than a weak release out of those moments.

But you didn’t appear to notice or care about his appearance or the visible signs of his wealth. Instead, you simply ignored him as if he was just some random nobody you had met on the street, even going so far as to speak to him in a disrespectful tone and use crass, unladylike language on top of it. He knew he should be feeling slighted and angered by your lack of respect, but instead, all he felt was elated and proud. You were already a pretty little mystery that he wanted to solve, but now you were proving yourself to be a challenge for him to conquer and break.

But before he could do that, he needed to find a way to get you back to the compound and under his care and supervision. You were obviously hurt, disoriented, and lost, so his fist order of business was seeing to it that you got proper care and were back on your feet first and foremost, that would give him time to plan out how best to go about this new pet project of his.

Luckily you passed out before making it too far and he quickly ordered Hari to get you into the backseat of the Packard, to which his lieutenant did without question. A spare blanket from the trunk was draped over your small frame and as he took his place in the passenger seat up front, he reached back and placed his still gloved hand against your forehead and even through the material he could feel that you were burning up with a nasty fever. Once back at home, he would need to have Dr. Takani take a look at you after the maids gave you a bath and changed your clothes. It wouldn’t be right to let his new little curiosity become too ill after all.

He had found you and now you were his responsibility to care for. He was a man that took pride and care in all his possessions, and already you were becoming his new favorite. He didn’t know a thing about you, not even your name, but that was part of it, finding out everything he could about you was going to be half the fun of it.

“Where would you like to go Kai?” He heard Hari ask, but he never took his eyes off of you beautiful face as he replied.

“We’re going home.”

Sorry if this seemed a bit rushed, I was too excited to post it and didn't do a whole lot of editing besides a quick once over. lol

#yandere!overhaul #yandere!overhaul x reader #kai chisaki #kai chisaki x reader #fem!reader #reader insert #1930's au #time travel #no quirks au #yakuza #the beginnings of yandere behavior #typical yandere behavior #yandere bnha

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