#[incredibly loud heart shattering sound effect]

[black-butler-confessions]

it's so funny that even after all those endless flashbacks mey-rin hasn't become even slightly more interesting character

^

[whereforarthur]

Musicians want to be the loud voice for so many quiet hearts

Request: Can you do George Clarkey imagine where reader is a famous singer and he basically follows her on tour and fans speculate they’re dating. he also gushes about her on the podcast and with Max about her songs and the shows fuelling the rumours

Pairing: George Clarkey x Musician!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 3k

Italics= Flashbacks

*****

"So, what's new on the music scene, George?" Max's voice boomed through the podcast studio speakers, setting the tone for another episode of The Useless Hotline.

George Clarke leaned into the microphone, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "Well, Max, you know how much I've been into indie rock lately," he began, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "But I've stumbled upon an artist that's absolutely blowing my mind."

Max raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Oh, really? Who's this mysterious talent that's got you all riled up?"

George paused for dramatic effect before dropping the name. "Y/n."

Max's eyes widened in surprise. "The Y/n? As in the Y/n whose debut album just hit the charts like a meteor?"

"The very same," George affirmed, nodding with an unmistakable glint in his eye. "Her voice is like nothing I've ever heard before—raw, soulful, and with a range that could shatter glass."

Max chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "And it's not just her music that's got you all hot and bothered, is it?" He winked at the George, who turned red. "I've noticed you've been following her tour pretty closely on social media. Care to share any juicy details with us?"

George's cheeks burned as he shuffled his notes, trying to regain his composure. "What? No, no, it's all professional, I assure you," he stammered, a hint of defensiveness in his voice. "I'm just keeping tabs on the industry, you know how it is."

Max leaned in, his tone teasing but with a hint of seriousness. "Oh, I know how it is alright. The way you gush about her tracks, the endless retweets of her concert clips, the heart-eye emojis—it's like you're her number one fan, or something more."

The studio filled with laughter, but George's blush deepened. He cleared his throat, trying to steer the conversation back to safer waters. "Look, she's just incredibly talented, and her live performances are nothing short of mesmerizing. It's all about the music, Max."

*****

In his mind, George replayed the moments he'd spent following Y/n's tour. The show began with a dramatic opening, lights dimming to a pulsing beat before exploding into a cacophony of sound and color. y/n strutted onto the stage, her voice soaring over the cheers of the audience. George watched from the wings, his heart racing. He'd heard her sing countless times before, but there was something about seeing her live that sent chills down his spine. He couldn't help but think about all the times he'd played her music for his fans, hoping they'd feel the same connection he did.

As the night went on, George found himself getting lost in the performance. The way she moved, the emotions she conveyed through her lyrics, it was all so mesmerizing. His phone buzzed in his pocket, notifications from fans bombarding his screen with questions and comments about the rumored romance. He ignored them, not wanting to break the spell. He was living in the moment, and the moment was all about her.

The whispers had started after the third show. Fans had noticed his frequent appearances, and rumors began to swirl. He'd felt a thrill at first—the idea that he could be linked to someone so incredible, so gifted. But as the whispers grew louder, so did the weight of his secret.

Finally, after the encore, the lights dimmed and the applause died down. George took a deep breath and waited for his chance to meet her. His palms were sweaty, his heart racing like it was about to leap out of his chest. When the moment came, she emerged from the dressing room, a vision in a glittering outfit, and their eyes met. For a brief second, the world around them disappeared, leaving only the two of them standing in the harsh glow of the backstage lights. He managed a nervous smile, and she returned it with one that was equally as shy. "Hey," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Great show."

Her smile grew, lighting up her eyes. "Thanks," she replied, her voice just as soft. "I've heard a lot about you, George." His cheeks flushed at the mention of his name, and he stumbled over his words, trying to form a coherent response. Before he could say anything more, a handler stepped in, guiding her away to meet more fans and press. But in that brief exchange, George felt something shift. The rumors didn't seem so ridiculous anymore. Maybe, just maybe, there was something real between them after all.

The attraction was undeniable, a force that drew him in like gravity.

Their eyes had lingered a beat too long, and the air between them had crackled with an undeniable electricity. The whispers grew into a murmur, and the rumors began to take on a life of their own. Fans took to social media, posting photos of them together, dissecting every shared glance, every accidental touch. The media picked up on it, and soon, their faces were plastered across tabloids with headlines that made George's heart race.

As the tour progressed, the connection between George and Y/n grew stronger. Stolen moments backstage turned into lingering glances from across crowded venues. They'd share whispers and smiles, their bond a secret language that only they understood. It was love at first sight for both of them, a connection so profound that it seemed to transcend the noise and chaos of the music industry.

In the quiet moments between shows, they'd sit together, sharing stories about their lives, their dreams, and their fears. Y/n spoke of her rise to fame, the sacrifices she'd made, and the solace she found in her music. George, in turn, revealed his own aspirations, his love for podcasting, and the joy he found in sharing his thoughts with the world. Their conversations were a symphony of shared passion and understanding, a respite from the relentless glare of the spotlight.

*****

"Earth to George," Max's voice echoed through the podcast studio, pulling him from his reverie. "You still with us, mate?"

George blinked, snapping out of his daydream. "Yeah, sorry, Max. Just lost in thought about the tour."

"Oh, I bet you were," Max said with a knowing smile. "But come on, George, don't hold out on us. You've got to admit, there's more to it than just her music."

George's cheeks grew even redder as he stumbled over his words. "I-it's not like that, Max. I'm just…supporting her career."

Max chuckled, not quite buying his friend's protest. "Sure, George, sure. You're just 'supporting' her career." He winked at their podcast audience, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

Max, George's co-host, had been equally as thrilled for him, egging him on during their podcast episodes. "Come on, mate," Max would say, his grin audible through the microphone, "spill the tea! What's it like being backstage with the hottest singer in the biz?" George had been playing it cool, but the listeners could sense the excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. They'd been shipping George and y/n since the first time he'd played her song on their show, and every little detail George shared just added fuel to the fire.

George took a deep breath, trying to balance his desire to protect Y/n's privacy with the thrill of being part of her world. "Okay, okay," he conceded, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Let's just say that I've had the privilege of seeing a side of her that not everyone gets to. She's not just a rockstar; she's also incredibly kind, and her dedication to her craft is inspiring."

Max leaned in, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Ah, so you're saying there's some backstage magic happening, huh?"

George chuckled, playing along. "Well, let's just say that there's definitely a connection," he teased, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But you'll have to tune in to my vlog for the juicy details."

Max slapped the table, grinning. "Ah, the plot thickens! You're killing us with suspense, George!"

George couldn't help but laugh, the energy in the room contagious. "Alright, alright. I'll admit, we've become…close." He paused, searching for the right words. "But it's all very respectful and professional, of course."

Max leaned back in his chair, his smile widening. "Respectful and professional, huh? That's not what the internet's saying."

George rolled his eyes, playing it cool. "The internet says a lot of things, Max. You know how it is—fans get a little carried away."

But the more he talked about Y/n, the harder it became to keep his feelings in check. Her music had become the soundtrack to his life, and the thought of her made his heart swell with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time.

The podcast went on, the conversation shifting to other topics, but George's mind remained firmly on Y/n. He'd never felt so alive, so invigorated by someone's presence. Her music had become the score to their budding romance, a secret symphony played just for them amidst the cacophony of the tour.

The banter went on, but George remained tight-lipped about the details of their conversation. He didn't want to jinx it. The rumors grew wilder, and their listeners were eating it up. Fan art began to flood their social media pages, depicting the two of them in various romantic scenarios. It was all in good fun, but George couldn't help but wonder if there was more to it than just a backstage meeting.

*****

Days turned into weeks, and George found himself backstage at more of y/n's shows. Each time, their interactions grew longer, more intimate. They'd share quiet moments between the cacophony of the tour, discussing music, life on the road, and their shared love for London. The connection grew stronger, and the line between fan and friend began to blur. Yet, George remained respectful, never crossing the boundary, not wanting to ruin the magic of their budding relationship.

One night, after a particularly emotional performance, y/n sought him out in the crowded backstage area. She looked tired but exhilarated, her eyes searching his face for something he wasn't sure he could give. "You know," she said, her voice low and serious, "I've been thinking a lot about what you said on your podcast. About my music, about us." George's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to keep his cool. She took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving his. "I think there might be something here, George. Something real."

The room seemed to hold its breath, the noise of the venue fading away as she spoke. George felt his entire world shift, and he knew that whatever happened next would change the course of his life. He looked at her, this incredible woman whose music had captured his heart, and he knew he had to be honest. "Me too," he murmured, and she leaned in, closing the distance between them. As their lips met, the cheers of the crowd outside seemed to crescendo, as if the universe itself was applauding their newfound love.

*****

After the podcast wrapped up, George sat in the quiet studio, his thoughts racing. He knew the rumors would only grow stronger, the paparazzi more relentless. He didn't want to cause her any trouble, didn't want to be the reason she was hounded by the media. With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and typed out a message to her. "Let's keep it low-key for a bit longer," he wrote. "The music's all that matters right now."

Y/n's response was almost instant. "You're right," she texted back. "But it's getting harder to hide this."

George couldn't argue with that. Every time they were together, the chemistry between them was palpable, a magnetic force that seemed to pulse in the air. It was like trying to contain a raging storm in a teacup—eventually, something was going to spill over.

The next few concerts were a dance of restraint, their hands brushing together backstage, the lingering hugs that were just a little too tight, the stolen kisses when they thought no one was looking. The tension grew with every passing day, a delicious agony that only served to deepen their connection. Y/n had become his muse, her every move, every note, inspiring his own creativity.

But the whispers grew louder, the glances from the sidelines more pointed. The pressure mounted, a silent crescendo that seemed to crescendo with each show. Y/n leaned into his ear one night, her voice a breathless whisper. "I don't know how much longer I can keep my hands off you in public," she confessed, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

The words sent a jolt of electricity through George, his heart racing. He knew what she meant; the desire between them was a living entity, pulsing with every beat of their hearts. In the privacy of her dressing room, they'd come close to giving in more times than he could count. But the fear of ruining her reputation, of being the tabloid fodder that could overshadow her music, kept them from crossing that line.

Yet, the anticipation was killing them both, a thrill that only grew with each secret glance and stolen touch. The rumors had spun into a tornado of speculation, and it was only a matter of time before they were caught in the storm. So, after weeks of careful deliberation, they decided to take control of the narrative.

*****

One evening, after the final notes of Y/n's breathtaking performance had faded into the night, George took to the stage. The crowd roared with excitement, not expecting the podcast host to make an appearance. With a shaky smile, he gripped the microphone, his heart hammering like a drum solo. "Thank you all for being here tonight," he began, his voice carrying over the hushed whispers of the audience. "I know you're all here for the music, but I have an announcement to make."

The air in the venue grew thick with anticipation as Y/n joined him, her hand slipping into his. She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with excitement and nerves, and he knew this was it—the moment they'd both been dreading and craving. "We wanted to share something with you," George continued, his voice growing stronger with each word. "Something that's been brewing between us for a while now."

The crowd held its collective breath, the anticipation so intense it seemed to hum through the air. Y/n leaned into the microphone, her voice clear and steady. "George and I have become more than just friends over the course of this tour." The stadium erupted in a mix of cheers and gasps, phones rising like stars in the night sky, capturing every moment.

"Yes," she said, a playful smile curving her lips, "I've officially taken George Clarke off the market." The crowd went wild, their screams a testament to the love and support that had been growing alongside the whispers and rumors. For George, it was a moment of pure exhilaration and terror, his heart racing as he felt the weight of their secret lifted from his shoulders.

They stepped closer, the stage lights casting a warm glow over them as they announced their relationship to the world. Y/n leaned in, her breath warm against his cheek. "Thank you for being patient," she murmured, her voice lost in the cacophony of the crowd.

George swallowed hard, his heart hammering like a bass drum in his chest. "Thank you for trusting me," he whispered back, his eyes never leaving hers.

The crowd's applause grew deafening, their cheers a cacophony of love and excitement. They leaned in, their faces inches apart, the moment stretching out like a chord in one of Y/n's soulful ballads. And then, as if propelled by the very music that had brought them together, they kissed. It was a kiss that spoke of passion, of hope, and of a love that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long.

The news of their relationship spread like wildfire across the internet, setting social media ablaze with reactions. Fans, thrilled by the revelation, flooded their comments with congratulations and well-wishes. The media, ever hungry for a good love story, feasted on the details of their whirlwind romance. Yet amidst the chaos, George and Y/n found refuge in each other's arms, their bond stronger than ever.

In the days that followed, the tour took on a new energy. The chemistry between them was no longer hidden behind the guise of friendship; it was a living, breathing force that electrified the air. Every shared glance, every touch, was met with an appreciative roar from the audience, who reviled in the authenticity of their love.

The rumors had become reality, and George Clarke, the YouTuber with a crush, was now George Clarke, the man with the world's most enviable backstage pass. But it wasn't about the fame or the gossip; it was about the connection, the shared passion for music, and the undeniable spark that had drawn them together. And as they navigated the highs and lows of a very public relationship, they'd learn that sometimes, the most beautiful melodies are the ones that unfold when you least expect them.

Their relationship didn't just survive the spotlight; it thrived in it. Y/n's music grew more intimate, her lyrics now echoing the depth of their feelings, and George's podcasts grew more personal, his voice resonating with the joy he found in supporting her. They became the ultimate power couple, a testament to the idea that love could bloom in the most unexpected of places.

*****

Taglist~

@gvf23

[mania-sama]

rule #9 - child of the stars

Rule #9 - Child of the Stars - Fish in a Birdcage

➼ information ❧ Jujutsu Kaisen ❧ Character: Gojo Satoru ❧ Tags: prison realm, asphyxiation, self-harm (from the asphyxiation), blood, whump ❧ Summary: Gojo Satoru is sealed in the Prison Realm and everything goes great until he realizes he's running out of oxygen. Worse yet, there's nothing he can do about it. ❧ Word Count: 1,370 ❧ Cross-posted from Archive of Our Own ❧ Original post date: 22 December 2023

➼ whumptober 2023 ❧ Day 28: Oxygen Deprivation ❧ Previous Day ❧ Next Day ❧ Masterlist

Gojo Satoru had no intentions of being sealed. When he answered the call to protect the people inside Shibuya, he had a general idea of the opponents he was going to face and the Prison Realm they hoped to trap him in. He also knew that, without a doubt, he could kill them all.

Of course, no one had prepared him for Geto Suguru or the creature inhabiting his best friend’s skin. No one in their right mind would have thought to warn him because they didn’t know. Gojo would have gone to Shibuya anyway. He would’ve faced his best friend’s animated body regardless.

But it would’ve been nice to know.

Maybe he wouldn’t have been sealed. That momentary shock, the two seconds that can change the tide of war itself, may have been the difference between his concealment and total victory. He can’t be sure of it, and he knows better than anyone that to dwell indefinitely is to effectively kill the psyche itself. He’ll be worse getting out of the Prison Realm than when he was put in. If his assumptions are correct, then he’s going to be on his best physique when his students open the back door of the realm.

Gojo silences his mind. He cuts off his thoughts of Geto Suguru, the what-ifs, and the future, and focuses on the present. The Prison Realm is dark, small, and gratingly loud. As a holder of Six Eyes and Infinity, Gojo is difficult for the Prison Realm to restrain and comprehend. He can’t get out by any means, so the realm itself isn’t weakened. He assumes that the manifestation of its difficulty is in the churning sounds all around him where the sides of the realm turn like cogs on a machine, but he can’t be sure until enough time passes. It’s possible that the realm itself will never be able to fully comprehend him. Which would be hilarious if it weren’t for the fact that the noise is going to drive him insane. 

There are a few things he knew about the realm before he even entered Shibuya, but it’s limited to what’s been researched outwardly rather than what's been revealed by people who have been inside of it. For example, time doesn’t pass in the Prison Realm, or if it does, it’s incredibly distorted. Whatever is inside is unable to break out, whether from the realm taking away cursed energy and techniques itself, or physically restricting movement itself. It exists as a half-way domain, meaning it technically doesn’t belong to any one person as the realm is a separate creature itself.

He prods the “floor” with one of his fingers absently. His heart is pounding and his veins are thrumming with anxious energy. It feels like he’s moving fast, but without going anywhere at all. Like a plane ride, except he’s watching the land and sky shatter into a million pieces and whip by his window. And it’s not that he’s an anxious person or that his psyche breaks easily, but he has the incomprehensible sensation of his mind scattering, running away with his thoughts.

It’s not a pleasurable experience by any means. However, he’s not being actively tortured, so he considers that an absolute win.

No torture.

His heart picks up the pace, and his breathing grows shallow.

No torture.

Something isn’t right.

Gojo doesn’t want to be hurt, obviously. It should go without saying. The anxiety he’s experiencing has to be the impact of the sensations of time stopping and shattering while he moves without it, or it moves without him. The human body and mind are simply not able to fully comprehend the complete stoppage or distortion of time, so they panic and try to save themselves the best they can. That he understands.

What he doesn’t understand is the way his throat is starting to catch on each breath, and how his heart is racing beyond the raised levels of innate panic. His energy levels aren’t depleted, so he knows it can’t be from exhaustion. In all honesty, he feels fine outside of the assessed symptoms, which is why it’s so odd.

Then he stops breathing.

Oh no, don’t worry, he tries. His hands find his neck and scratch to relieve the pressure clogging his airway. His torso twists around and he spits out copious amounts of saliva to somehow get even a little bit of oxygen through. He curls his hands into fists and beats his chest and stomach.

Gojo has never had the displeasure of being choked. He did almost drown once when he was young and undergoing early-age sorcery training courtesy of the Gojo Clan, but that was a very different experience to what he’s enduring now. Back then, there had at least been something and someone — water surrounding his head and body, people waiting to drag him to the surface before he died completely, and most importantly, his natural-born technique.

Satoru now, twenty-two years after that week-long ordeal at age six, drowns without the water, the people, or his technique. He has nothing but the faux strangulation, the lack of air getting through his throat, and he wants to scream, but all he can do is cough. He can get none of the carbon dioxide he expels back, so his diaphragm cramps in response.

He wishes that had taken the opportunity to stand and stretch his legs ten minutes ago because currently, the only thing he can do is curl into a tight ball while every bit of his body is lit on fire. His fingers nearly bend without his will. They grip, tear, and yank every part of him and the realm they can get their hands on. His head hurts from the lack of air and the clumps of hair he’s already pulled out, and his eyes are stinging from leaking tears and the nails scratching his skin and poking his eyeballs.

The tips of those nails are turning purplish-blue, and the color is slowly traveling down his fingers to the first knuckle joint. He coughs painfully into his pale, blue-tinted hands. Blood settles on his palms to add a little fun to the canvas his body is becoming.

If he weren’t dying from asphyxiation, he would find the colors incredibly funny. Maybe he’d laugh, or even smile! Red, blue, and their mixture purple. Hilarious. He couldn’t have made a better joke itself. But it's not funny. He doesn’t laugh and he doesn’t smile. Gojo torques in restless agitation and panic, and more blood spurts from his cough. His lungs simply have nothing to expel, so it takes chunks of his body that can be gotten rid of: his blood and saliva.

Satoru stares up at the dark expanse above his head, shrouding the grating cogs embedded in the “ceiling”. He doesn’t know if he can reach the top if he’s fully standing, or if scratching at it for long enough would make the realm give way. Gojo knows that’s not how domains and realms work. He knows.

Yet panic makes rabid dogs out of rational people.

His fist slams into the edge of the tight realm. It’s airtight. That’s why he’s suffocating — he’s used up all of the oxygen and carbon dioxide already.

Mind scattering as time and hypoxia strangles his body and brain, Gojo comes to an important secondary conclusion after discovering the “airtight” property of the Prison Realm: under no circumstances is the prisoner going to die.

He flattens on the ground, his knees bending to give his legs room to stretch upwards since there’s not enough length to hold his entire height lying down. A second later, he’s pushing himself over and digging his nails into his scalp again.

In his twenty-eight years of life, Gojo Satoru has never felt so incredibly helpless and useless as he does now.

His coughed-up blood and saliva run down his chin and dribble on his uniform. His fingers dig into the bare skin of his arms, and he has nothing more to do than pray that the world will have mercy on him. Maybe each time he blinks his eyes, he’ll open them to something other than the churning cogs of the Prison Realm.

[blzzrdstryr]

Midnight chatter

Yandere Diluc x gn!knight!reader

Wordcount: 2385

CW: Yandere, drugging, kidnapping

This was a third week after his return and fifth day of the tireless fight with winery work, when Diluc received an unexpected guest. During his travels across the world, the winery business fell into disrepair and almost collapsed, so once he learnt the state of the wine industry he decided to settle in his office and try to battle the endless reports about necessary expenses and small profits all on his own.

He started to work with the first rays of sunlight well into the night, squeezing every bit of energy his body had, not only because financial issues could affect him personally, but also because of the night vigilante of Mondstadt title he took upon himself.Due to the increased workload he couldn’t find time to patrol the dark streets and alleys of the city, while experience and conscience didn’t allow him to thrust the safety of ordinary citizens into the hands of bumbling, cowardly and lazy knights.

The day soon turned into the late evening, and dawn winery workers started to go home, when someone knocked on his door. It was Adelinde.

Her steps were faster than usual, her stoic face shadowed by the note of concern. Diluc wanted to say that no, he won’t go and have a rest, but she spoke first.

“Master Diluc”, she stopped before his desk: “we have a guest, a knight”.

He lifted his head shifting the eyes from the report to the head maid and pondered - despite his long absence, a lot of people in the city had a general idea how much he dislikes the Favonius Order and so a rare knight would actually dare to bother him, unless… Unless, they were acting out an order from someone high-ranking, like Jean or Varka for example.

Apprehension that his former colleague somehow learned of his nightly escapades sent an unexpected wave of shivers and vague feeling of unease, but he didn’t let it get to him.

“Ask why this knight is here and if it’s something unofficial tell them to leave”, he ordered, at which Adelinde blinked, slowly and tiredly, as if she was looking for the strength to tell something incredibly upsetting or scary.

“The thing is, master Diluc, that I already let them in”.

“Without my permission?”, his eyes widened at that, and the heart started to pick up the pace. What if this knight was really sent here by Varka or Jean? If it was true, Adelinde, unknowingly set him up to fail.

She was looking after him from his earliest childhood, so she was allowed to do and say more than any other of his staff, yet this perceived audacity was unheard of before.

“They were badly injured and said that they needed to stop for the night and once it’s over they will travel to the city with the first sun rays. We helped them to patch up their injuries and offered a room for guests, yet they declined and remained to sit on sofa”, the maid explained absolutely unfazed, after noticing Diluc’s dissatisfaction and then added : “If you are that displeased, master Diluc, I can tell this tired and battered knight to get out from here into the dark night”.

Her voice remained even and emotionless as usual, but even like that young Ragnvindr could hear a light mocking in her words. And to think about it - he got so freaked out over some silly coincidence - the knight stopped here because of the injuries, not some insidious scheme.

“Alright”, Diluc admitted defeat: “they can stay… and offer them some food and tea”, he added just as Adelinde’s hand touched the doorknob.

“Will be done”, she replied before exiting the office. The corners of her mouth slightly moved and crept upwards.

***

Despite his earlier goal of finishing as much work as he can, Diluc couldn’t do anything. Small digits and letters started to float and dance before his eyes while the long lines fused together, when he tried to analyze the state of wine business in naught. But the worst thing was the fact that his thoughts strayed to the topic of mystery knight again and again and Diluc lost count how many times he caught himself thinking who this person is.

He sat like that for a while, until the cinnabar of dying sky got replaced by the darkness and pleasant chill of the night.

Diluc scolded himself for his uncharacteristic indecisiveness, standing up from the desk and locking the office, when this thought, loud and persisting, knocked into his head again. Wouldn’t it be nice, he wondered, to learn who this night is, and finally decided. After all the thoughts about them pestered him for a long time.

Quietly and carefully walking through the unlit corridor of the winery, he confirmed that all servants and workers had already left for sleep, some into the rooms of the main building designated for them, some into the cabins around it. All in all, he was confident that there’s no one except him, the knight, Adelinde and a couple of other maids.

His steps were quiet and slow and not even a single board in the wooden floor creaked under his weight as he knew the winery like the back of his hand. With a bated breath he made his way downstairs, making out vague shapes of the familiar objects. Moonlight pouring out through the windows illuminated only the silhouettes, but even with that he quickly noticed the unknown frame.

The person was half-sitting half-lying on the sofa, and their sword and armor were placed nearby the furniture, reflecting the pale light of the moon. They weren’t moving, seemingly asleep. Diluc couldn’t make out their face even after making a coming closer, so he decided to take the risk and summoned a small wisp of flame.

The dancing light illuminated everything in a small radius and what he saw made him jolt and take a step back. You were the mystery knight.

Why are you still a knight? Where were you? Who injured you?

Still shocked by the previous revelation, Diluc accidentally knocked over the breastplate with his foot and it fell on it’s side with a loud thump.

You woke up.

“What… Who?”, you stirred and half sat on the elbow: “Ah, it’s you” and saw him :”What are you doing here?”.

Caught red handed, Diluc didn’t find any words - it was so sudden and unusual to be caught unaware, and because of that doubly unpleasant.

“This is my winery and I am free to do whatever I want”, he decided to hide the awkwardness behind the faux annoyance.

“Easy, easy” you half smiled, half yawned: “I just managed to fall asleep”. You yawned again and blinked at him with sleepy tired eyes.

“I have sleep medicine if you want some”

You got surprised and touched by his sudden responsiveness: “Thank you, but I think painkillers would be better. My body is aching and that’s the main problem”.

Maybe because of the trembling, dancing light or maybe because of the recent sleep you imagined worry and pity twisting his facial features.

“I have it too. Wait here”, he quickly replied and vanished into the dim darkness of the winery, not giving you any time to answer, as you were left to sit and wait for him. Diluc, to your own surprise, happened to be extremely stealthy, able to move without producing a single sound.

“Here”, you first heard and then saw him,as Diluc used pyro vision to light the nearby candlestick and then opened the medicine vial he brought and handed it to you: “Drink it all”.

“Thank you”, you whispered to him, taking the painkiller before making a big gulp. The taste was horrible, so horrible in fact that you almost immediately started to violently cough. Well, if it’s as effective as foul, then I will be good as new in no time, you thought to yourself, suppressing the urge to throw up.

Diluc stood nearby and observed your reaction, his hand extended on his own when the coughing started as he awkwardly tried to pat your back in the gesture of comfort. “I will be here with you until you fall asleep”, he stated once the fit stopped and then, seeing your highly raised brows explained further: “Painkiller takes time to work. Tell me if you won’t feel better”.

You nodded in response, and closed eyes, listening to the sensations of your body. Your injuries still burned and screamed and throbbed, yet a strange numb sensation started to slowly surround you. Just like Diluc said, medicine would need time to fully settle in.

“If you're here can you talk with me?”, you decided to shorten the time in conversation: “Ijust wanted to talk with you. For a really long time”.

“About what?”, he allowed himself a shadow of the smile, Diluc that you used to know peeking through the gloomy facade, like a long awaited sun or it’s reflection on the tranquil mirror of the water surface. Next words stuck in your throat, bitter and acidic and totally unfit, and you had to force them out through your own hesitance to destroy this calm.

“What happened that day? The day before you left. I asked Jean and Kaeya and other knights who were present with you, yet no one said anything”, the water surface bubbled and the visage of that old, sunny Ragnvindr shattered into thousand pieces. The person before you adopted the same cold facade of annoyance and indifference.

“Why do you need to know it?”, he answered the question with another question and you sensed barely buried hurt and grief.

“You leaving hurt. A lot”

“That’s why you are still a knight?”, you quickly nodded at that.

A minute passed by and he still stood, without saying a single word, thinking what to do. On one hand, he didn;t want to open up, the story of his eighteenth birthday was incredibly painful and personal experience to be shared so freely, on the other hand he yearned for your understanding.

"Alright", he broke the silence:"Let's make a deal, you answer my questions and I'll tell you the whole story after. Deal?"

"Deal".

Diluc looked at you again, looked at the bruises and cuts, still peeking through the bandages and for a second his mind lit up with one thought alone: what disgusting bastard did that to you. He suppressed the rapidly rising rage, deciding to start from the most important.

"Is my leave the only reason why you decided to stay?" his heart picks up the pace again, he needs to know the answer.

"Basically yes, you knownI didn’t do it for my parents… I just.. That tragedy, I know it's not my place, but… I always wanted what happened to you. I asked this question to myself everyday and night, and I missed you terribly".

His breath hitched and he lowered his gaze. For some reason you always managed to fluster him with the words alone, even if it wasn't your intention.

"Your parents must be happy", h e changed the topic, stifling the heat in his heart.

"Yeah, they're ecstatic that I stopped being difficult and made their aspirations real. Hm, do you have any other questions?"

"What happened to you? ",he pointed at the bandages covering most of your body.

"Ah, catching treasure hoarders does that to you, usual stuff", you dismissed his concerns and Diluc started seeing red from the way your voice remained so calm and unbothered. Usual stuff? Usual stuff?!

"Grandmaster could send anyone else", he snapped:"Favonius Order has more than plenty of vision holders, they should've sent one, instead of you! You could die!".

Diluc’s sudden explosion left you speechless, but soon your own weaved words of irritation:"Ordo Favonius doesn't consist of Jean and Kaeya only. We can't let them handle all the hard and dangerous business all the time. Ordinary people like me can still help, even if the gods didn’t favour us. Don't think of me as some helpless idiot just because I have no shiny vision to show off"

Your heated response seemed to work and Diluc turned red from embarrassment, realizing how annoyed you got, despite the worry for your health and still present anger at the other knights for letting you get hurt. He also didn’t like how you looked at him, reprimanding and disappointed.

"Alright, sorry", he cleared his throat:"where were you before? I haven't seen you anywhere"

"City gates aren't the only thing that needs guarding. I was sent to the Liyue border, to make sure that no treasure gang crosses it. I think I will get sent there again, once I fully recover".

Diluc got angry at that too, yet this time he suppressed unpleasant feelings, already knowing how you will rebuke and reprimand him again. There's no convincing to be done, as you won't change your opinion. You left him no choice for what he was going to do.

"Alright, you answered all my questions", he said before changing topic again:"Did painkillers start working? I have another".

Being so engrossed in the conversation you forgot about the ache, yet once he mentioned it your body started to hurt with a renewed strength.

"Yes, I would like one", you decided and Diluc vanished in the unlit hall yet again.

"Here", he handed the small bottle to you already opened. The new substance was different, sweet and viscous. You managed to take two sips before your eyelids started to feel up with lead, and soon even lifting a hand seemed like a highly arduous task. Whatever the thing that Diluc gave you wasn't a painkiller.

"What…", you uttered, before your body relaxed and you fell asleep once again. Diluc bent over, looming over your unconscious form, as his hands carefully took the bottle away. He didn’t want it to somehow fall and injure you

This is a necessary measure, Diluc assured himself, before making a plan of actions. He would need to fake your disappearance and forge enough leads to direct investigation into the completely opposite direction, but now he needed to wake Adelinde up and ask her to prepare the room in the basement. He didn't want you to be uncomfortable in your new home.

[omg-imagine]

Loopy

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x female!V

Summary: V is a little loopy from her anesthesia, and Johnny finds it amusing.

Words: 1.7k

A/N: Requested by @thescorpionrodriguez. Hope you enjoy!

“Come on, V, wake the fuck up already.”

Silence. Johnny swears he could hear a pin drop.

V’s body remains lax on the bed; her eyes wound shut as if she were sound asleep. Slow and rhythmic, the rise and fall of her chest were calming, lulling. For once, she looks to be in peace, a rare moment for those who live and breathe in Night City.

She had been lucky. Extremely lucky. Two or three millimeters more to the right and the bullet that pierced her abdomen would have hit an organ. By some miracle, it missed anything vital and had exited out cleanly. It did fucking hurt judging by the sound of her agonizing groans, but here she was—still kicking, still alive.

And Johnny’s relieved that she was. They may not get along at times, but he genuinely cares for V. Hell, he would even consider her a good friend. She could call him a snarky asshole as often as she wants (and she does), yet he knows that deep down, she too has grown a soft spot for the rocker boy.

It’s been hours since the mission that went awry, and Johnny was getting pretty antsy. Vik had to put V down while he worked on repairing her cyberware. Nothing major, though the anesthesia should have certainly worn out by now. Much to Silverhand’s surprise, the ripperdoc wasn’t acting all too worried about it. He thinks V could use the sleep since he’s aware of how little she’s been getting.

Unfortunately, Johnny was all but a patient man. Bored out of his damn mind, he’s tired of roaming around the operating room, waiting and waiting for V to regain consciousness. Johnny’s more than ready to leave, perhaps grab a smoke afterward. He hasn’t gone this long without one lately, and he can’t enjoy one if V’s lying here, knocked out cold.

Nearly the rest of the day flies by, and the sun begins to set. That’s when he feels it; a spark—a familiar jolt of electricity emitting in the depths of V’s mind. Johnny manifests by her bedside, watching as her body finally stirs awake. That’s my girl, he silently praises, a flicker of a smile playing on his lips. V’s eyes flutter open, taking a minute to survey her surroundings before her line of sight lands on him.

“Well, look who decided to come back to life,” Johnny quips, leaning closer. “You doing alright, kid?”

V doesn’t respond. Rather, she bursts into a fit of giggles out of nowhere.

What the fuck?

Bewildered, Johnny glances everywhere but notices nothing amusing of the sort. “Care to share what you find so funny?”

“You’re too good looking to be my nurse,” V drawls, no doubt experiencing side effects from the anesthesia.

“I’m no nurse, princess, but thanks,” he corrects her. Then, it dawns on him. “You recognize me?”

She blinks at him blearily, the gears in her head turning as she tries to put a name to the face. “I dunno, should I?”

“It’s Johnny. Johnny Silverhand. Ring any bells?”

Again, V chuckles, a light-hearted tone that Johnny rarely hears, but they were sweet music to his ears when he does.

“Nope, zero bells. Are you like my husband or something?”

Johnny’s eyes widen. “Husband? Oh, no, honey. We ain’t even gone on a date yet. I’d say, think of us as partners-in-crime.”

“Wait!” V blurts out, gasping. “I remember you. You’re from that band—Samurai, right? God, I used to listen to your songs a lot as a kid.”

“Huh, you told me you’d never heard of Samurai,” Johnny recalls, slightly entertained at this point. “Didn’t peg you as a fangirl, V. I’m flattered.”

“So, can I… y’know, get your autograph?”

Just before Johnny could continue playing around with a loopy V, Viktor strolls in with Misty in tow, both delighted to find the merc out of her prolonged slumber. He lingers by the foot of her bed as Vik explains to V what happened, but she doesn’t seem to be processing it. She stares at him, dazed, and Johnny wonders when she’ll be back to normal.

“The effects should go away in a few hours,” Vik informs Misty once he’s examined V. She’s healing nicely and isn’t complaining much, yet that could be because of all the painkillers she was jacked with. “I’d say watch over V until she can stand on her own two feet without tripping. Other than that, she’s good to go.”

“Where are we going?” a clueless V asks, looking back and forth between the two. “Is Johnny coming?”

Misty furrows her brow at her. “Johnny?”

“Yeah, mister sex on legs over there,” she points eagerly, and Johnny smirks at that. “I’m not done talking to him yet.”

Vik shakes his head before reminding Misty of the engram residing within V’s psyche. “Oh, yeah. Silverhand. Uh, I guess he could come, too. Don’t really have much of a choice there, doll.”

The walk back to V’s apartment was a journey in itself. Lucky for her, she was pushed in a wheelchair throughout it all as Johnny stays visible for her benefit. They reached the door just before the skies turned completely dark, the warmth and comfort of the room being somewhat familiar to V.

Misty carefully moves her onto the bed, propping her up with pillows behind her back before smoothing out the blankets covering her legs. Johnny observes from a distance, quiet in his pondering. He’s never seen V this vulnerable before. She’s always been incredibly independent, not to mention stubborn as hell. She won’t accept anyone’s help unless it’s dire, and even then, she’s reluctant to do so.

“You must be starving,” Misty comments once V is settled. “How about I get you somethin’ to eat downstairs. Better food than what’s here, if there’s any. Hang tight for a bit, ’kay?”

Nodding, Misty then heads out of the room, the front door sliding shut when she’s gone, leaving V in the presence of Johnny yet once again. He glitches to sit by the edge of the mattress as V stares at him incredulously. Her eyes shone what he could best describe as innocence; she truly has no clue of what they’ve gone through together in the previous months.

“Can you sing me a song?”

Johnny narrows his gaze, a small chuckle rumbling in his throat at her deliriousness. “I don’t do concerts anymore.”

“Oh, come on!” V pouts, almost child-like in her ways. “Pleeease?”

“No,” he refuses sternly before an idea comes to mind. “How about you sing to me? Said you were a fan. Give me a performance, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

V does not hesitate. On cue, she starts to serenade Johnny with one of Samurai’s greatest hits, going as far as imitating the gruffness of his voice. Off-beat and lyrics garbled, V belts out the tune confidently and loud enough that her irritated neighbors began banging on the wall, yelling at her to quit it.

She ignores them, of course.

Meanwhile, Johnny’s having the time of his life. It was quite endearing to him, although embarrassing for V if she later finds out about this. Yet, he doesn’t stop her. He encourages her even further by singing along, not giving a fuck in the world.

At the end of the song, Johnny laughs heartily along with V, who had crawled closer to him. Their eyes meet for a moment that seems to last longer than it actually did. His mouth quirks up in a smile, the kind of smile that was reserved for her and her alone.

“You’re pretty cool, Silverhand,” V mumbles sleepily, touching the cold surface of his chrome arm. Sighing, Johnny guides her drowsy self back under the covers, certain that she would crash in the next minute or two. “I think you should take me on a date. We’d be a hell of a couple together.”

“I think you’re going to regret everything that’s happened just now when you wake up in the morning,” he returns, and there was a slight pang in his chest.

V only hums in response, and he doubts he had even heard what he last said. It doesn’t matter, however. Johnny was sure she wouldn’t want to bring this up again.

---

“Fuck…” V exhales groggily, her blinking eyes wincing at the bright sunlight flooding into the room. She feels pain all over, her head throbbing immensely as she tries to gather memories of the day prior. It comes back in bits and pieces until suddenly, she remembers everything.

Everything.

“Good morning, princess,” Johnny greets after materializing before her, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. “How ya feelin’? Still loopy or need a little more refreshing from ‘mister sex on legs?’”

V’s reflexes are quick; Johnny doesn’t even register the pillow being hurled at him at first. He only realizes it when the empty glass bottles on the center table falls to the floor, shattering and making a mess.

“You’re lucky you’re just a hologram, right now,” V muttered as she stands up unsteadily.

Johnny holds his hands up. “You were the one who said it.”

Rolling her eyes, V reaches for the painkillers Misty left on the side. “Don’t remind me.”

“Alright, but at least let me tell you that you’ve got a shitty voice.”

“That’s why I don’t do karaoke,” V snorts before swallowing the pills and heading to the couch. “So, what do you think?”

“What do you mean?” Johnny questions.

“You, me, dinner?”

V waits for his reaction, smiling coyly at his confusion. When Johnny finally understands what she was referring to, he almost couldn’t believe it.

“Wait, are you fucking serious?”

She lets out a chortle. “Yeah, I’m serious. Don’t get me wrong, I’m mortified about last night, and I’m never going to let Vik knock me out with that stuff again. But hey, the truth came out. Might not have remembered you, but even while high as fuck, I knew I liked you.”

Briefly, they traded a look of longing, acknowledging at last this deeper connection they’ve felt for a while. It was much more than sharing a body, a mind. Something more profound than what Johnny and V have experienced before in their lives.

And though it was all entirely new to them, they both wanted it. They both wanted each other.

“Better get to it then,” Johnny flashes a grin, mirroring V’s own. “Wanna start with breakfast? Bet you’re hungry after skipping what Misty brought you, samurai.”

“Never going to live that one down, are ya?”

Shooting her a cheeky wink, Johnny throws on his stylish pair of aviators with ease.

“You bet your ass I’m not.”

Permanent Tags: @penwieldingdreamer @keandrews @feminine-machinegun @fanficsrusz @thehumanistsdiary @flaminasteroid @rowserein @unaspiringwritings @planetkt @breakthenight @baphometwolf666 @rdjloverxxx

Johnny Silverhand Tags: @silverse​ @overheardatthecontinental @life-is-fuucked @ataraxydreams

[heyitssmiller]

Clandestine: Chapter Thirteen

Fitting that this is chapter thirteen. It was destined to be unlucky. And it was also the hardest one to write by far. Thanks for being so patient with me. One last cliffhanger, yes? For old time’s sake.

@lumosinlove your characters continue to live in my head rent-free, so thank you!

@donttouchmycarrots is my dude, my pal, my babe, and the best proofreader ever

Special thanks to @wonder-womans-ex for providing what just might be my favorite line in this chapter

Clandestine Masterlist

CW: violence, gun violence, nightmares, anxiety, mentions of food, injuries

.

Logan woke up to Finn crying.

He was admittedly good at being quiet about it – he muffled any noise into his pillow, body turned towards the wall and curled up tight. It was the shaking that gave him away. Logan wasn’t sure what was going on at first, but his heart just about shattered when he realized. He rolled over to face Finn, pulling him gently into his arms and holding him close. His heart lurched as the redhead shuddered and buried his face in Logan’s chest, arms wrapping around him tightly as he sniffled. Logan screwed his eyes shut and breathed, nice and slow in an attempt to get Finn to match him. He wasn’t sure what was upsetting his partner, but he wanted nothing more than to fix it, to help however he could. Finn leaned further into him and stayed there for what felt like an eternity before he calmed down, breaths slowing and tears drying.

Logan could feel every swell of muscle, every gentle dip between his ribs, the eyelashes that were still wet and clumped together, the way his skin felt all clammy. He wished he could pull him even closer, hold him even tighter, even though there was physically no distance between them. Maybe Finn could find comfort in the confines of his arms, the way Logan had found safety in Finn’s.

“Want to talk about it?” he finally whispered, making Finn tense up again. He peered over Logan’s shoulder to look at their sleeping partner, then looked back down at Logan.

Sometimes Finn just took his breath away. Sure, his eyes were glassy and his nose was red from crying but he was still so beautiful, with muted light filtering through the curtains turning messy auburn hair into shiny copper, seeming to glitter in the sunlight. Big, brown doe eyes looking so incredibly soft as he stared down at Logan. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to being looked at like that. Like he was something to be cherished, something to be adored.

Logan felt his breath hitch.

“Hallway?” Finn asked, glancing back at Leo. “Don’t want to wake him up.”

Logan smiled. He loved learning how all three of them showed love and how it varied depending on which partner they were interacting with. Finn was more teasing with Logan, always throwing jabs and chasing them with happy grins and lots of kisses. With Leo he – well, he still teased mercilessly, but it was softer around the edges. The kind of affection that made him get all squinty-eyed because he was smiling so much and too-tight hugs because he couldn’t possibly hold back. Leo didn’t act that different when it came down to it, but he picked up quickly on what the two of them liked – intertwining his fingers with Finn’s as often as he could, running his hand through Logan’s hair time and time again. The constant motion of his hands was directed at the two of them instead of the lock in his pocket more often than not, a new soothing habit forming quickly. It was adorable. Logan wasn’t really sure how he was different, but he knew he was softer with the two of them more than he’d been with anyone else. He could feel himself turning into a sappy romantic and he wanted to hate it, but he really couldn’t.

Finn scrambled up reluctantly and Logan followed him across the room, nervous and itching to pull Finn back into his arms. He reached for Finn as soon as the door closed completely. “Bad dream?” His stomach dropped when Finn just nodded, biting down on his lip hard as his eyes welled up with tears again.

“I don’t want to go back there.” Finn admitted, voice a soft whisper in the silence of the hallway. Logan sighed and pressed closer, standing on his tiptoes just a little to loop his arms around Finn’s neck. Logan didn’t want to go back, either, but it was different for Finn. He’d been there for longer, after all, and Logan still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened during that time. Finn refused to talk about it, and Logan was too afraid to ask, as selfish as that made him feel. To top it all off, Logan had no idea how to help. Usually bad dreams were only loosely based on reality – but Logan had a feeling these were a little too real. They’d lived it, after all. To wake up from a nightmare and realize it was basically reality…

How could you comfort someone who’s bad dreams were all true?

“I know,” he said simply, lacking the words for anything else and running his fingers through Finn’s messy bedhead soothingly.

“We won’t be there for too long.” Finn said after a while. He seemed to be trying to comfort Logan with the words, even though he was the one who had been crying about it earlier. Logan ached for the redhead. He had such a big heart, always putting others before himself even if he was in a bad place himself. Logan needed to pay more attention, to pinpoint that evasion tactic and not let him get away with it. Everyone needed solace, even the ones who primarily did the comforting.

Finn’s eyes had closed sometime earlier, his head tilted to lean into Logan’s hand, his breath tickling the inside of Logan’s wrist. Logan wiped away a stray tear tenderly and sighed. Finn didn’t seem to want to talk about it. Logan wasn’t going to force him to talk, but he was worried about what would happen if he didn’t talk about it with someone. Sometimes it was nice to talk to someone with an outside perspective – someone who wasn’t in the thick of it like Logan was. So Logan reluctantly let it go for now and tried the next best thing: cheering Finn up.

“And it’ll be nice to bash some heads in while we’re there.”

That earned a laugh from Finn, and Logan felt such stark relief at the sight – it left him a little breathless. It was sad that a genuine laugh from either of his partners was so rare now. Logan felt like he needed to cherish them when they happened.

How depressing was that?

“Bashing some heads in is now on the list, I guess.” Finn murmured, placing a lingering kiss to Logan’s temple, who hummed thoughtfully.

“Do you even know how to throw a punch?”

Finn was in the process of kissing Logan when he said that, which just turned into a laugh against Logan’s lips. “No, but you do.” Logan could hear the smile in his voice. “And that’s way hotter than it probably should be.”

Logan looked up at him nervously to make sure he wasn’t kidding, then relaxed at the honesty in those mischievous eyes. Even upset and stressed, Finn somehow knew what to say to soothe worries Logan hadn’t even told him about. Being in a job like his… well it was ugly. It was brutal and violent and messy and not many people would want to be involved with someone like that – someone with bloodstained hands, too many paranoid tics, and a heavy, guilty conscience.

Finn and Leo didn’t seem to mind all that much, thankfully.

The realization made Logan grin sharply and nip at Finn’s lower lip before delving into another deep, intoxicating kiss. It was too easy, getting lost when he kissed Finn. So much of their surroundings faded away until all he was aware of was the feel of slightly chapped lips against his and hands holding his hips in order to pull him closer. Finn seemed to have that effect on Logan – he always had, ever since that New Years party. He was the kind of person everyone naturally gravitated towards, pulled in without a second thought. It was part of what made him so damn good at his job.

Finn breathed in sharply before kissing him again, heady and sure of himself and making Logan weak in the knees. All five senses were overwhelmed with Finn, Finn, Finn. It thrummed along with his pulse in a steady, loud rhythm. And yet his mind still drifted back to the bedroom with Leo, the thought of joining him back in bed tugging at him just as Finn broke the kiss and pulled him back towards the door, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Sometimes I’m convinced you’re a mind reader.” Logan smiled and willingly let himself get drawn back into the quiet, sleepy warmth of the bedroom. Finn just shrugged.

“Maybe I am.”

Leo was still sound asleep, sprawled out on his back with one leg sticking out from underneath the covers and hanging off the side of the bed at what looked like a very uncomfortable angle. Logan smiled at Finn’s affectionate snort, then followed him back to bed and crawled in the middle again. He curled up on his side, facing the blond as Finn pressed against his back and tangled their legs together. Leo’s hand moved up the bed, searching for Logan’s until he found it and then seemed to drift off to sleep again with a content sigh.

It scared Logan a little, how important the two of them had become in such a short amount of time. They were slowly invading more and more space in his head until his only thoughts seemed to be about them, all the time. Maybe it should be a little worrying, but Logan couldn’t find it in himself to be too concerned – not when the thoughts made his chest feel light as air and his stomach full of butterflies.

***

It was getting close to go-time, and everyone was on edge. The energy was palpable, like an electric current flowing through the group. Shoulders were tense, words were short and clipped, a sense of focus and determination in the air.

Leo had never been part of something like this. The only missions he’d been on were with Logan and Finn and that was it. Having a big group like this, all feeling the same things and wanting the same goal, it was intoxicating. It sucked you in and made you want to be a part of it, too.

But he couldn’t. He was stuck here, on the sidelines, left to wait aimlessly until everyone returned. That meant letting them go and resigning himself to a night of restlessness and worry.

Leo hated it.

He didn’t cling to his partners like he so desperately wanted to. If he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let go again. He didn’t ask for empty promises of being careful, nor did he beg them to be safe. He couldn’t hold them to words they might not be able to keep. But he allowed himself to stare, just a bit. He let his eyes linger over Logan’s steady hands as he loaded his gun and methodically checked it three times, just like always. He watched Finn pull a clean shirt over his head and fiddle with the sleeves, seemingly lost in thought. Leo memorized what he could, just in case. The exact shade of Logan’s eyes, the freckle pattern across Finn’s cheeks and nose. He hated that his brain automatically jumped to worse-case scenario like that, but – well, considering the circumstances and what they’d already been through at the hands of the Snakes… could you blame him?

There was also this feeling in the pit of Leo’s stomach. He wasn’t sure if this was just the anxiety talking, but everything in that moment felt so decided, so final.

It felt like goodbye.

As if Finn knew exactly what was going on in his head, he drew Leo in for a hug and kissed his cheek, lingering for a second before leaning back to meet his eyes. They shared one of those looks – one that expressed a multitude of emotions without saying a single word. When Finn kissed him, it was deep and achingly slow. He was taking his time, wanting to make the moment last as long as he could. Leo knew the feeling. He fisted his hand in Finn’s shirt and pulled him impossibly closer, tilting his head for a better angle and softly running his tongue across the seam of his lips. A gentle rush, a quiet thrill, but still with a noticeable, tangible melancholy.

Leo could still count the number of kisses they’d shared on two hands. That wasn’t nearly enough for him. He wanted as many different types of kisses as he could think of – happy, teasing, soft, hard, tender, and everything in between. He wanted to lose count by the end of the week. He wanted to learn everything there was to know about his partners.

He just hoped they’d get that chance.

Logan pressed up against the two of them, slotting seamlessly into place. Transitioning from kissing Finn to kissing Logan was as easy as breathing – a simple turn of his head and a slight bend to accommodate for the height difference. It was the kind of kiss you were meant to remember. A whirlwind of sweet and passionate, deep and gentle, loving and regretful.

More than anything it just hurt.

Leo’s gut churned as he pulled back and looked at the two of them, lost for words. What was he supposed to say in a situation like this, after all? He didn’t think there was anything he could say to make this easier, or reassure them. Words didn’t seem like enough anymore – they just felt insincere and meaningless. Leo didn’t think he’d ever faced that problem before. Words usually came fairly easily to him, especially if something was important to him. But now they were failing him and it left him feeling even more lost, adrift in a raging sea that he had no idea how to navigate.

“Let’s do this,” Finn said finally, part resigned and part determined, before heading towards the bedroom door.

The rest seemed to happen all at once in a blinding flurry of activity. Goodbyes with the team were quick and rushed and then they were all loading up into cars, green and brown eyes meeting his every once in a while before the doors closed and the engines growled to life.

Leo watched the caravan of cars head down the driveway, then rushed across the wrap-around porch to keep them in his sights for as long as he could until they disappeared behind an outcropping of trees. He kept his eyes trained on the spot and clung to the wooden railing with a white-knuckled grip.

And that was where he would stay. If that was the last place he saw them, it would be the first place he would see them again. He didn’t care if he stood there all night until it bled into morning; he wasn’t moving an inch.

***

Sirius sat in the backseat next to Remus for the drive, which was silent and tense with rising adrenaline and battle plans running through everyone’s heads – especially Remus’. He could practically see his mind working. He’d been planning nonstop for the past two days to make sure that all the loose ends were tied up and that they were doing this the right way. Any illegal processes now could compromise the court trials that would come after putting the Snakes behind bars. Between that and coordinating between the other agencies that were helping them take down the Snakes, it was looking like a Herculean task. They could’ve pulled out the big guns and requested help from the FBI, but no one really wanted to do that. This was personal, after all – for pretty much everyone on the team. The feds could take over later, after everyone was apprehended.

Remus chewed at his lower lip, eyes trained on nothing in particular. The back of his head was highlighted in the headlights of the car behind them, illuminating in a startling contrast to the rest of the dark interior of the van. Sirius stared and stared until he just couldn’t help it. He reached over to turn Remus’ head towards him, then ran his thumb lightly over that abused lower lip until Remus let it go. Color seeped back into it, turning the pink a darker, cherry red. Again, Sirius stared. That mouth quirked into a teasing smile.

“You’re going to chew a hole in your lip if you keep that up.” He said and looked up into honey-colored eyes, slowly pulling his hand back. Remus just huffed under his breath – a short, nervous shadow of his normal laugh.

“Yeah. I could really go for some chapstick right now.”

Sirius smiled, pulling Remus towards him and kissing him gently, reverently. It still kind of blew his mind, how much things had changed in the past few months. Remus used to hate him. Well, maybe hate was a strong word, but they definitely weren’t friends. And now here they were, making out in the back of a van. Even though their mission was coming to an end and Sirius really wouldn’t have a reason to stay in Gryffindor any more, he could no longer fathom leaving. Remus played a huge part in that, of course, but Sirius also had friends now – real friends who didn’t try to use him constantly or only contacted him when they needed something. He had a home, as ridiculously cliché as that sounded. Nothing about Slytherin felt like this, and it made Sirius wonder if he’d ever actually had a place to call home before he found himself in Remus’ tiny apartment with the dying houseplant and the lumpy couch and an entire cabinet devoted solely to mugs.

The kiss turned softer until Sirius pulled back and just looked at him, an overwhelming rush of emotion in his chest. Remus wasn’t his home – one person couldn’t be all of that, Sirius knew that much – but he sure was a big part of it.

Remus licked his lips thoughtfully, tasting Sirius’ chapstick. “What flavor is that?”

“Pina colada.”

“Nice.”

That made Sirius smile again. “It’s going to be fine, Re.” Sirius reassured and tucked Remus against his side. It was an awkward squeeze in the back of a van, but neither of them cared.

“Yeah,” Remus sighed, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. “We’ll be ok.”

They both flew out of their seats a little when the van hit a pothole, smushing them closer together. Sirius pressed a kiss to his temple, soft and lingering, before speaking up again. “Do you want to talk through the plan once more?”

Sirius always found that talking through things helped calm him down. Saying the facts out loud tended to get rid of the unnecessary fears going on inside his head, plus it made him feel more prepared. And he knew Remus was the same way, from all the times he’d helped the analyst plan missions.

This earned him a soft, thankful smile and then Remus was off, talking a mile a minute about strategies and backup plans and anything else he could think of. Sirius let his voice wash over him and tried to ignore the dread settling in the pit of his stomach.

***

Leo didn’t know how long he stood there, gaze never once wavering from the treeline, when Hope joined him. She held out a mug for him, full of what looked like hot chocolate and a thick layer of whipped cream. Leo smiled faintly in thanks and took it before returning to his vigil. It was so quiet outside. No crickets like back home, no wind whistling through the trees, nothing. It set Leo on edge.

“So,” Hope mercifully interrupted the silence, “I heard you like to cook.”

Leo looked over at her, more than a little confused at the non sequitur. “Yeah. I do.”

She traced along the grain of the wooden railing, avoiding the chipping paint. “Those boys might be hungry when they get back, and that’s a whole lot of cooking to do by myself. Care to lend a hand?”

Leo snorted at the accidental pun and looked down at the hand trapped in a sling. He knew what she was doing, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad. He could definitely use the distraction.

“That sounds perfect.” He said and followed her inside, only casting one glance over his shoulder at where the driveway disappeared and the woods began before he joined Hope in the warm glow of the kitchen. Lyall and Jules were there too; they had the refrigerator door thrown open and seemed to just be staring at the contents. They looked so alike, standing side by side like that. The same slightly-bowed legs and identical shades of brown hair. Lyall gave his son a mischievous look, reached for the can of whipped cream, and squirted some directly into his mouth while Jules watched on with his jaw nearly on the floor.

“I didn’t know we were allowed to do that!” he gasped and snatched the can from his dad. A few seconds later there was whipped cream in his mouth. And on his chin, cheeks, a little on his nose…

Hope sighed good-naturedly. “You’re teaching our son bad habits and making a mess.”

Lyall just bent over laughing, a snort escaping every once in a while.

Leo smiled as Jules tried to get all the whipped cream that missed his intended target with his tongue, eyes crossing in the process. He took a sip of his hot chocolate and leaned back against the kitchen counter as Lyall kept pointing to places on his face that Jules had missed. Hope shared a look with Leo and rolled her eyes in a “what can you do?” kind of gesture. It was all so lighthearted and affectionate and exactly what Leo needed in that moment.

He wondered if Hope somehow just knew these things – it was definitely possible. Mother’s intuition and all.

“So what are we making?” She asked, tying her hair up while Lyall threw an apron over his neck. Jules was still working on the whipped cream.

Leo shrugged his good shoulder. “What do you have in the pantry?”

“So much!” Jules exclaimed, deeming his face good enough and throwing the pantry door open. “We’ve got pancake mix, potato chips, poptarts, hot dog buns-”

***

The take-down mission was going about as well as expected.

Which meant that it was going well, but it was also a chaotic disaster at the same time. Fitting, right?

Agents were everywhere, it seemed, outnumbering the Snakes at least three-to-one. The Snakes were scattering, running for the exits and fighting tooth and nail to get out – whether that was with weapons they had or just their fists, they weren’t going down without a fight. But even if they made it out, they were met with another line of defense waiting for them in the form of the Durmstrang agents.

Remus really had the op planned out to the last contingency, it seemed.

Logan and Finn were headed down an unfamiliar hallway, looking for stragglers to round up and escort outside. Most Snakes had joined the main fight to get out, sequestered in the entryway. Logan was glad they were tasked with this, though. There were too many familiar faces back there – Greyback, Lestrange, Snape. Logan wasn’t sure he was quite ready for that just yet. Between that and the sound of gunshots echoing in his head… well, let’s just say it brought back bad memories. And even though it wasn’t the best utilization of his skillset, he hadn’t been separated from his partner. He’d learned from experience what a bad idea that was. When this was all over, he wasn’t letting the two of them out of his sight for at least a week.

God, he couldn’t wait for this to be over.

Movement caught his eye and his gun was instantly up and aimed at the person. Yellow eyes landed on them and Logan held his breath, every muscle tensing and adrenaline spiking.

Logan knew they had direct orders to bring the Snakes in alive, but it was much harder to think about that when he was staring Riddle down from the sights of his gun. He knew exactly where to aim – he’d seen it mapped out on Leo’s chest, memorized the angry red wound contrasting against the gentle slope of his collarbone. A shot not intended to kill, but to inflict unfathomable levels of pain – another thing Logan had branded into his memory. A shot that was intentional, designed to send a message. And Logan definitely wanted to send back a reply.

Riddle recognized them and got this smug gleam in his eyes. “Long time, no see.”

Logan’s finger twitched against the trigger.

“Trust me, we’re planning on never seeing you again.” Finn said, then sighed dramatically. “And it looks like that dream is going to become a reality, since we’ve got all the evidence we need to lock you up for – what do you think, Logan? Two life sentences?”

“I’m banking on three.”

“But it’s not really up to us, now is it?” Finn shrugged. “If it were, I think you’d be dead by now, so I guess we’ll have to wait and see what the judge says.”

Riddle still looked remarkably calm. And it was that ego, that sense of infallibility that ended up being his downfall. “All the evidence you have is circumstantial. Any decent lawyer can get those charges dismissed.”

“Sure.” Finn’s smile turned lethal, knowing he had Riddle right where he wanted him, ready to deliver the final blow and relish in the aftermath. “But I think all that detailed information on the flash drives can put you away for a long time. Why seven flash drives, by the way? Lucky number?”

Riddle’s smile faded in increments as the realization struck. “That’s not possible.”

“Oh, it’s very possible. You can thank the guy you shot for that.” Finn said darkly. They watched the gears turning in Riddle’s head, then the way his face turned from pale to a sickly green. His hand went to the inside pocket of his jacket where his flash drive used to be – where the fake one now was, switched when Riddle had pulled a bleeding, agonized Leo close to taunt Logan and Finn through his microphone.

Yeah. Karma was a real bitch sometimes.

Logan smiled, grim but glad to finally be putting this guy behind bars. “You’re coming with us.”

***

“Yo,” Pots said into a phone, a grin almost too wide on his face, “we got some stinky bastards over here. Can you come get them please and thank you?”

Remus snorted at his antics, no doubt talking to the FBI since processing criminals was in their jurisdiction now and not Gryffindor’s. He almost wished it was on speaker phone – he would’ve loved to hear their response.

Remus found Sirius waiting in the parking lot, watching all the Snakes get corralled into transport vehicles and taken to whichever prison they were being kept in until the trial. Some of their own agents were by the ambulance getting tended to, but there weren’t any serious injuries, thank god. Talker took a superficial gunshot to the thigh and Kuny’s arm got grazed by a bullet but everyone else was fine. The element of surprise and the backup by the other agencies really did wonders. That and the fact that they were all armed to the teeth and not even thinking about leaving this job unfinished. They had a pretty good reason to win this round, after all.

He couldn’t believe it was all over. This mission had taken months and lead to way too many problems, but they were finally done with it. They could finally move on. Remus was thinking of taking the next week off of work and spending it at the cabin, just him and Sirius. A much-needed vacation sounded like a dream right about now.

Sirius’ back was to him, but he heard Remus coming and didn’t flinch when long arms wrapped around him, tight and secure. He leaned back into the familiar warmth behind him and let himself be held. He’d been great in there. Remus had been a little worried about letting him come, afraid that taking down people he’d worked with for years would be too hard for him or – even worse – that his presence would be a bright red bullseye for the Snakes. Luckily, there had been so many other agents and so much chaos that most of them had only noticed Sirius and Regulus in the aftermath, when it was too late to do anything about it.

“We did it.” Remus murmured, letting go and stepping around to gauge Sirius’ reaction. The raven-haired ex-Snake smiled at him, a hint of something warring with the relief on his face.

“We did.” He finally said, eyes flitting from Remus to the action around them. He still looked a little uneasy, after everything. Remus couldn’t blame him – sometimes it took a while for the adrenaline to wear off and for reality to set in. “Doesn’t feel real just yet.”

Remus grinned wolfishly, letting the victorious feeling wash over him. “It’s real.”

“Sirius Black?” One of the other agents inquired, causing the man in question to turn around.

“Yes?”

The agent pulled out a pair of handcuffs, looking very bored of the current situation. “You’re under arrest for the crimes you committed with the Snakes organization. If you could put your hands behind your back-”

Remus stepped forward aggressively, staring the agent down. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The agent didn’t flinch. “Following orders. Even if he quit the Snakes, he’s still got to answer for what he did during his time there.”

“But he’s helping us – he’s a consultant for our agency. He’s got immunity.” Remus looked between Sirius and the agent, running a hand agitatedly through his hair at the blasé attitude of the agent.

“Take it up with my boss.”

It was all happening so fast. Remus was still reeling from the mission, his brain struggling to keep up with the new situation. The agent started to lead Sirius away when Remus shouted, “Wait!” He hurried to stand in front of Sirius, caramel eyes hard and fierce and determined with an underlying blaze to them as they met silver. He didn’t care if he was making a scene; he didn’t care who was watching. The only thing that mattered was the man standing in front of him, eyes resigned and – unsurprised.

He knew this might happen. And he hadn’t said a word about it. He came on this mission willingly, knowing this was the way it could end.

Remus would have to come back to that.

“I’m going to fix this. Ok?” Remus met his gaze firmly, letting the honesty drip from his words.

The ex-Snake nodded quickly, trustingly. The sight was a little nauseating, because what if there was nothing Remus could do? Sirius was counting on him now; he couldn’t stand the thought of letting him down, not when he was looking at Remus like that – like Remus could fix anything, when Remus knew damn well that he couldn’t. His chest seized up and he held his breath, gritting his teeth resolutely. He’d find a way. He had to.

Sirius was loaded into the back of a car, his brother already cuffed and waiting in the seat beside him – no doubt being charged for the same thing. Their faces were stony masks, tense and unreadable.

From the next car over, Riddle watched with a smile.

[phantomgl1tchh]

Wagner Collins; Continued

A loud bang rang throughout the familiar sterile-gray facility. Loud noises were normal here if he was being honest; recruits training in secluded rooms, learning how to use weapons quickly and effectively. But this was different, it wasn’t muffled. Wasn’t controlled. Wasn’t a test. No. Someone had broken in. Someone who knew their way around, what he assumed to be some sort of rifle, got inside.

He knelt beside a wall, peeking over the corner as he readied his own weapon; a syringe full of the same compound that was used on him and countless other subjects in their youth. This mysterious compound, the name of which eluded him at the moment, gave others superhuman abilities. Powers only heard of in fantasy books and sci-fi comics.

Perhaps if the intruder made their way to him he’d be able to… test… the compound. Observe the effects of the element on an adult body. Previously the mixture was given to young children; smuggled in with their vaccines, or given when no doctors were present. They’re more susceptible to change, less of a risk.

Syringe in hand he stalked forward, alert to all pin-drop noises. From the smallest breath to the loudest scream of fear that echoed throughout the building. To the silent footsteps of the intruder made their way down the hall, escaping with some sort of research.

He quickly dove behind a sterilizing table, a loud thump echoing through the hall. He listened as two sets of footsteps made their way down the corridor; their menacing aura filling every crevice, every gap and crack, filling the room with vengeance and fear. He felt his heart rate spike as the footsteps grew closer, closer. The menacing thump, thump, thump of combat boots and the click, click, click of some other type of shoe meeting the metal floor. This person, or people, knew their business, how to survive, how to operate in fields of battle. They were experienced mercenaries, soldiers, fighters, or something dangerous. Something seething, ready to strike.

His eyes snapped up and he cocked his head to the side, ready to pounce. His hands wrapped around the syringe so tightly he thought the glass would shatter, piercing his incredibly pale skin. The footsteps ceased and the familiar sound of a weapon being drawn met his ears. His pale crimson eyes met with the end of a steel pipe. Ice-cold panic surged painfully through his chest as he glanced up, meeting the familiar blue gaze he despised.

“Wagner,” a young, hushed voice muttered bitterly. Her blue eyes glaring and her weapon following his every move, ready to strike if he so much as moved the wrong way. His heart fell to his throat, “never thought I’d see you again, you illiterate inbred.”

A resentful chuckle left his lips. His thick, white hair swayed with the movement of him standing, the syringe falling and clattering to the ground, his hands raised in surrender, “and I never thought I’d see your traitorous face again either Wren- or… no, Erin now, right? Finally see your life is your own again or whatever nonsense the Jays have been filling your head with.” he retorted, scoffing.

A resentful smile decorated his chapped lips, his voice dripped with bitter sarcasm and disbelief, “oh, and I see that you have RAVEN 001 with you, couldn’t leave it behind, could you? Oh, how sweet, you have someone who actually cared about you. A, uh… brother, that didn’t leave you behind, a brother that wanted-”

Cold anger filled her icy glare as he talked, her good hand dropped swiftly from her weapon, the weight of it balancing on her prosthetic hand for a moment as she passed it to her companion. His faux hands took it from her, the metal of the pipe and the metal compound of his hand clicking together, two worlds of metal meeting for the first time.

The movement was lightning quick, leaving him no chance of reacting.

Next thing he knew he was falling to the floor, his face exploding with searing, red-hot pain. His skull made a signature crack, colliding with the metal floor harshly. He felt the heel of a boot press into his knee, he swore he felt it dislocate. His eyes snapped open, a startled yet pained cry erupting from his throat.

The blond girl kneeled next to him, her prosthetic hand digging into the fabric of his dark gray trench coat, hauling him forward. Her enraged face half a foot away from his, he could see the depth of the scar under her right eye, he hoped it hurt.

Petrified, he scanned the room looking for any sort of barrier he could put between the two, to keep distance between them, something to get him out when Erin spoke up again.

“My brother went missing in the field during the attack two years ago, he's missing. He didn’t.. didn’t leave me behind.” she sneered, voice faltering at the end of her sentence.

Her unsettling blue eyes pierced his soul to the ground, leaving it with no chance of escape. Her hand released its grip on his coat, causing his body to hit the steel floor again, red filled his vision and his body gave out, giving up the urge to fight back.

She stood back up, taking the pipe from her companion, keeping an eye on Wagner, ensuring he wouldn’t try anything foolish or dangerous. She watched and cracked her neck, the faux skin around her throat stretching as she craned it from side to side, releasing any tension and stress trapped within before she began walking away.

Though she stopped after a few feet, the familiar echoing of shoes coming to a halt, and looked back at the semi-conscious scientist. At one point he maintained her MICROSYSTEM and prosthetic arm, giving it any repairs or upgrades it might need. An odd look of betrayal and resentment dotted her pale face “and for the record, his name is Nickolai.”

And she was gone, leaving Wagner behind in the deteriorating, vile building. He felt his consciousness fogging over, felt it giving into the sweet release of indefinite rest. No more stress, no more tests. Just ignorant and eternal peace. A lasting peace that he would feel for the first time in 27 long years, the peace that his soul desperately needed. But no, his heart would not allow it. He wouldn’t let that happen. He resented the idea of her winning like this, winning the battle against testing the element.

No, he had to test the revised compound, observe its effects, compare them to the old compound, win. He found himself reaching weakly towards where he dropped the syringe, gently patting the metal floor for any trace of it, a small drop, a puddle, broken glass, anything.

He found himself growing desperate for it, his mind reeling with fear of death, of hatred and distain for Erin and her idiotic sense of self-worth, of ruthless anger for all those who told for him to hide his ideals and ways of learning. He needed to get the syringe.

The familiar feeling of a smooth rounded surface met the tips of his broken fingers. Waves of hope flooded through his chest; if he could just wrap the rest of his hand around it, he’d have a second chance. He’d get out of the facility for good, and he could finally observe the effects of the revised element. Watch Erin finally lose, watch everything she cared for burn and sink to hell.

His fingers hooked around the metal casing. The clattering of thin glass met his ears and he held his breath. If the glass broke, he was done for. Countless hours and days of careful research would be for nothing, he would die with nothing to show for his legacy, his past.

A moment later, the syringe was safely encased in his fingers; luck had shone her gratuitous smile onto him, giving him a second chance at life, a second chance to get it right, a chance at revenge. He pulled himself up, using the table filled with sterilizing equipment as support for his weak frame.

The protective plastic coating the needle was removed with bruised and shaky fingers. Those same fingers tapped the glass a few times, ensuring any air pockets inside the liquid bubbled to the surface and out of the compound, keeping the liquid clear and safe to inject.

Without a second thought, he brought the needle up to his wrist, briefly scanning for the blue lines that indicated where his blood flowed. Then he stabbed, injecting every last drop of the compound into his bloodstream, ensuring none went to waste. He could worry about making more later.

[parkersbliss]

Daisies | Newt

pairing: newt x female reader

wc; 1.6K

warnings: swearing, angst

synopsis: newt knows it’s his fault wicked has you, which is why he has to be the one to save you, to tell you how sorry he is... for everything

a/n: no I’m not sorry for this :D

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

Newt knew you were strong.

If he were being honest, you were probably strongest out of all of them.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared for you.

He was so scared, he had no idea what they were doing to you but he knew what they were capable of.

That’s what he was scared of.

What happens if by the time he gets there it’s too late?

Then it’s his fault. He’d have to live every day of his life (not that there was much left) knowing that he wasn’t strong enough to save you.

He didn’t want to live like that, no one did. But he had to prepare himself for the worse, he had to be strong for you, but he was already weak. He could feel the virus itching at him, slowly making its way through his body.

But Newt was determined to see you again, he only needed one more time.

One last time to hold you in his arms, one last time to tell you how much he loved you.

That’s all he needed, that was the only thing that was keeping him going as he leaned against the wall and listened to Thomas try and shoot off the guards. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t think this might be the end.

“Shit,” Thomas said, shaking his gun, “I’m almost out.”

Newt purses his lips, trying to think of a way out or anything that would buy them some time.

Thomas pokes his head around the corner, continuing to fire his last few rounds at the guards. Newt can hear the gun begin to jam, signaling the loss of ammo.

Newt lunges forward and grabs something from the guard's pocket. It looks like a grenade of some sort, but there’s no time to really figure it out before he grabs Thomas by the shoulder, “Get back!” He orders, tossing the device and praying it does some kind of damage.

For a brief second, nothing happens and Newt begins to panic, but then it explodes, successfully electrocuting all the guards who fall to the ground in a heap.

Thomas turns toward Newt, patting him, “Nice.”

He nods his head, rounding the corner, they pause waiting for someone to pop out and start firing at any second, but it never comes.

“You go that way, I’ll go this way,” Thomas said, nodding over to the opposite end of the hallway.

Newt nods his head, quietly heading down the hallway. He doesn’t have a weapon anymore so he’s more cautious, heightening his hearing for footsteps.

Or maybe even you.

Or Thomas in case he does something stupid, which was likely knowing him.

But it’s quiet, he can’t hear anything besides his own footprints and his frantic breathing. Newt rounds another corner and now he can hear voices.

They’re distant and he can’t make out anything they’re saying, but knowing WICKED it wasn’t anything good.

Then there’s a loud crash and screaming.

“Let go of me!”

“It’s been six months, just give in.”

“I said let go of me!”

Newt freezes on the spot, he knows that voice.

It’s you.

He’s between being impressed and concerned, he knows you wouldn’t have ever given up fighting but in a place like this, he can only imagine what happens when you fight back. Newt peeks his head around the corner, trying to see a way in, a way to save you.

But there are too many people for just him and no weapons.

He has to go and get Thomas, which means leaving you alone.

That’s the last thing Newt wants to do, but he has to remind himself that you’ve been alone for the past six months, five more minutes won’t kill you.

Hopefully.

He doesn’t take any longer thinking about it and takes off toward the other end of the corridor, his feet pound against the metal of the hallway and he’s grateful there isn’t anyone else around, otherwise, he’d surely be shot down.

“Thomas?” He shouts, hearing his voice echo around. “Thomas?”

The said boy comes running around the corner, hair disheveled as he pants, “are you trying to get us killed?” He hissed.

Newt looks him up and down, ignoring his question, “What happened to you?”

Thomas rolls his eyes, tossing Newt a gun, “I found us some weapons, that’s what happened. What about you?”

“I found (Y/N),” He said, tucking the gun into his belt.

Thomas’s eyes widen, “and did you get her?”

Newt rolls his eyes, “Don’t you think she’d be here if that was the case?”

Thomas mumbles something under his breath but Newt isn’t really listening to him, “I didn’t have anything to take the guards down with so I came to get you.”

Thomas nods, loading his gun, “well let’s go get her back.”

The determination in Thomas’s voice makes Newt feel a bit better, despite the feeling of his lungs closing in on him.

It was getting harder to breathe, and incredibly hot, but Thomas didn’t seem to be sweating.

Newt leads Thomas back down the hallway, taking a left to where he last saw you, but no one’s there.

He’s about to turn away when he hears it, screaming.

Both boys flinch at the sound, Newt so much as going to cover his ears. It breaks him from the inside out because he knows it's you and it’s his fault for not saving you that day.

He blames himself every day for what happened, he knows he deserves whatever this virus does to him.

He just needed to tell you how sorry he was, and then, he could finally rest in peace.

Thomas turns his head around the corner, counting the people in the room and trying to strategize.

He comes up empty-handed, pursuing his lips together as he weighs the risk of just barging in there and shooting everyone. He looks down the hallway to make sure no one else is coming and runs forward, crouching under the glass pane blocking him from you. Thomas gestures for Newt to do the same and the blonde follows, scurrying under the opposite window.

“They’re not looking at us so on the count of three we start firing.”

Newt nods, holding his gun to his chest as Thomas starts counting. He tries to block out your screams, hoping he can forget them and that he doesn't die with that ringing in his ears.

“Three!”

Newt spins around, pointing his gun at someone through the glass and firing. The glass shatters, pieces cutting at his skin but most of it bouncing off his suit as he continues aiming at the people in the room.

They seem to all be doctors as none of them are carrying any weapons of sorts and are all dead in a few minutes.

The two boys wait for thirty-seconds before jumping into action and sweeping off the broken glass and entering the room.

Thomas is quick to start messing with buttons on the computer as Newt grabs your shoulders.

“(Y/N)?”

“I really hope none of these are instant kill buttons,” Thomas mumbled as he pushes the big red one.

The machine goes dark and he begins slowly pulling off all the wires attached to you as Newt slowly wakes you up.

Thomas makes no comment to go faster, though he should.

“Newt?” You asked softly, adjusting to your surroundings.

“Oh thank god,” He exhales.

Your eyes are dark as they scan over the room, Newt gently takes you in his arms but you’re quick to push him away, scrambling out of his grasp.

This was WICKED, it had to be.

It was like all the others, where Newt would save you, only to turn into a crank and drag you away.

“Stay back!” You shout, putting as much distance between you and him as possible.

“(Y/N)?” Thomas said, grabbing your attention.

Was he real?

Thomas was never in any of your nightmares, but that didn’t mean WICKED didn’t add him for some extra effect.

“It’s us,” Newt said, “You remember us, right?”

“You’re lying,” You scoff, “I know it’s you WICKED.”

Newt’s heart sinks in his chest in realization, this is what they’d done to you?

“It’s us,” Thomas pleads, trying to think of some way to convince you. If WICKED had gotten in your head, how do they bring you back?

You wanted to believe them, you really did, but you’d grown so used to the games and tricks and it was never worth the pain.

“Prove it,” you said, looking to both of them.

Newt’s first to speak up, “Daisies!” He blurted, “you always said if we ever made it out of the maze you want to start a flower garden at that the first flower would be a daisy.”

He’s choking on his words as he sees denial still flash in your eyes, “You also said you wanted to name our future daughter Daisy.”

It’s hard to say those words knowing it would never happen, Newt knows he doesn’t have enough time left. He knows he’ll never give you that, and for that, he’s sorry. He’s more sorry than you’ll ever know.

“Daises,” You whisper under your breath. Your shoulders drop when you realize that it isn’t some trick anymore.

“You’re real,” You said, running forward and hugging Newt.

Relief washes over him as he grabs the back of your head and pulls you as close as possible. “I’m so sorry,” he said, the words falling from his lips faster than he can process them, “I’m so sorry for letting them take you that day, for everything, I should’ve been stronger.”

You don’t say anything just hug him tighter.

“I love you,” He said, pulling back to gently cup your face. "I love you so much."

You’re not sure why, but Newt looks paler, his eyes duller… almost sickly.

“I love you too,” You said, not questioning the sincerity and the pain in his voice.

Newt blinks, tears running down his pale cheeks, “I’m so so sorry.”

If only you knew the other half of what he was apologizing for.

— END —

🏷 Newt Taglist: @lozzypoz321 @emeliii1 @tylers-ankles-beebos-forehead @remusflirts @sonnydoesrandomshit

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Lovedust Pt.6 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: Y/N finds out more about how the lovedust works and it leads to her realizing her biggest fears about Peter if he’s cured. 

Word Count: 4.2k

Author’s Note: There’s a lot going on right now but thank you guys for being so incredibly kind and patient with me. Shit is going to hit the fan real soon with Lovedust so stay tuned! ALSO Don’t forget to leave comments if you guys liked it or hey even if you hated it! ALSO ALSO My taglist is getting pretty big and hectic so if I missed yours, I am VERY sorry pls just message me again so I can add you asap!

Warnings: Mild language, mentions of death and nightmares, slowburn

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six ||

part seven || part eight || epilogue 

As your eyes fluttered open, you gave yourself a minute to adjust to the sound of rain hitting against your bedroom window. You closed your eyes as you inhaled deeply, your arm instinctively reached beside you to touch Peter, only to find that side of the bed empty. 

You opened your eyes again and slowly raised yourself up to turn to see that your prediction was correct and that he wasn’t next to you. You knew it wasn’t a dream, you distinctively remembered him holding you as you fell asleep but you guessed he might’ve left soon after. 

The memories of last night rushed through your head as you felt your heart drop slightly and already, you felt empty so early in the morning. You remembered everything about the nightmare but more importantly, you remembered Peter cradling you like a child as you cried in his arms. 

You couldn’t wrap your head around a single feeling to describe the thoughts in your mind. As every day passed, Peter was showing you more and more how much he truly cared for you, and the thought of him not being able to keep the same energy once he was cured terrified you. 

You loved this new Peter and how kind and compassionate he was around you. It was annoying at first dealing with the cringey pick up lines and weird comments about the two of you getting married but now that you realized there was more to those side effects, you found him even more endearing. 

It was the small things like how he sacrificed the right side of his body so that you could fit under the umbrella perfectly or how he would willingly sit through a horror movie for you even though you both knew how much he hated them. 

You even saw a change in yourself and how you treated him. The other day, you two sat side by side on the couch and shared headphones while listening to the playlist you made for him or when you would tell him a dumb joke just so you could hear him laugh. 

It was selfish to hang onto the idea that Peter would always be this kind to you but you rather savored the moments you two had together since you knew better to know that nothing in life was guaranteed. 

You felt embarrassed that he had seen you so vulnerable, especially since Peter didn’t know what happened to your parents and now, you felt like you owed him an explanation. You looked back at your clock and sighed once you saw that you had already missed the beginning half of school, you thought screw it, you were taking a mental health day. 

“ Is it senior skip day or something?” You looked up to see your dad standing in your doorway with his arms crossed over his chest in a scolding manner but once he saw your dazed expression, he dropped the act,” Y/N? Is everything okay?”

You could feel your throat tighten as you shook your head, refusing to cry again. 

“ Nightmare,” You swallowed to stop yourself from letting anymore sobs from coming out of your mouth as Tony sat next to you and put his hand on your shoulder. 

“ I know kid, I know,” Tony brought you closer to him as you hugged him tightly. 

You had told Tony about your nightmares but he was already well aware on what happened with your parents. You were still pretty young when your parents had passed and you’ve lived most of your life with Tony as a parent but that didn’t mean you weren’t traumatized over what happened years ago. 

Tony had not only given you a good home and had locked down your future, but he was always there to listen and offer help, whether it was from himself or health experts.

“ It was Peter this time,” You said softly as you felt your dad hug you even tighter,” I don’t know why but he was in the nightmare and he-he tried to hurt me...I feel so guilty, I don’t know why he was there but my brain just made him  you know?” 

“ That’s not something you can control Y/N, remember what I said, your brain just picks up on different people-unless he did something. Did he do something to you? Cause I swear-”

“ No, no Dad it was the opposite,” You sighed as you pulled away and bit the inside of your cheek,” I know you told me not to hang out with Peter but...we’ve been getting closer and I think I...I don’t know. All I know was that when he comforted me after my nightmare, I felt the safest I’ve been in a long time….Things are different now. I don’t know what I could say to convince you but please don’t get mad.” 

You looked down at your bedsheets to avoid his gaze and you weren’t sure if he was burning a stern glare at the back of your head or not. 

“ I’m not mad about Peter, I already knew you were seeing him behind my back anyway and I should’ve known you two would’ve pulled some Romeo and Juliet bullcrap. Anyway- You’re strong enough to look after yourself, hell stronger than some of these people living here and if I may speak candidly, I know you could kick his ass if he ever crossed a line,” Your dad said as you let out a small chuckle,” I want you to be safe and happy. I would prefer you feel that way without a boy in the mix but I won’t yuck your yum.”

You wrinkled your nose but you couldn’t help but smirk,” Do you think I’m strong enough to become an Avenger?” 

“ You already are,” Your dad smiled as you inhaled deeply,” but before we get too mushy, I did actually want to talk to you about the other day, you know, about Peter’s health.”

You sat up straighter in your seat as you nodded attentively at him before he continued. 

“ It’s really important that you keep this between you, me and Banner, okay? I’m gonna use some big words so keep up,” You nodded again as you felt your heart beat rapidly against your chest,” you already know this but the lovedust activates a huge amount of serotonin in the body and sometimes that can lead to some major health problems. Well, with every day that passes, he runs the risk of having a ventricular tachycardia and that’s what explained how he collapsed the other day-”

“ Hold on, he collapsed? And did you say a ventricular tachycardia? Like a heartattack?” You asked as you felt your own heart stop for a moment as your dad gave you a confused expression,” So you’re telling me the lovedust could kill him? When did this happen?”

Your dad inhaled sharply as he swallowed hard,” Yesterday afternoon. We were done running tests and Banner noticed a car pull up and I said it was your friend John-”

“Josh.”

“ Yeah sure. Then we heard a loud thud and Peter just dropped. He just fainted but still, it’s a sign that things are getting worse,” Your dad said as you felt your heart completely shatter.

You felt like it was all of your fault. Even though Peter just fainted, he could’ve hit his head and died right there and you couldn’t stop yourself from filling your head with more terrible thoughts. 

“ Oh my god, I never thought things would get this bad,” You said as you rested your forehead in the palm of your hands, trying to keep a consistent stream of thoughts but each idea made you think of Peter getting hurt,” and there’s still not a cure? What have you guys even figured out so far-it’s been almost a week!” 

You knew your dad was trying his best but all you wanted was for Peter to get better and it didn’t help that time was against everyone. Peter could suffer a heartattack at any time of day and it didn’t make you feel better than nothing was being solved. 

“ Well we have a pretty strong theory about what caused the lovedust if you’re up for hearing it,” Your dad suggested as you hesitantly nodded. 

“ Our main theory is that the lovedust is effective when the patient- Peter- makes contact with the variable-you- and since you were the first person he saw, it activated his serotonin output. So it could’ve been anyone and Peter would’ve had the same reaction,” Tony said and it was so silent for a minute that you could hear a pin drop,” why is your face pale?”

You didn’t know how much you didn’t want to hear that theory until this very moment. You weren’t even sure why you could feel your throat close up again but this news made you sink back onto your bed. 

Peter really didn’t mean anything he was saying. After all those late night talks about how in love with you he was, those were all just side effects. Those were never his thoughts. He never really loved you. 

“ Oh...that’s good I guess,” You said quietly as Tony’s pager buzzed. You could tell Tony wanted to stay and talk to you but when he looked down at the notification, it seemed pretty urgent,” you can go, I’m just gonna stay here for a little bit.” 

“ We’ll talk later, okay kiddo?” Tony patted your knee and walked past your bed, closing your bedroom door behind him. 

You stared up at your bedroom ceiling as you thought about what your dad said. Peter’s condition was getting worst but now, at least they figured out something that could help them along the way. If they could figure out the properties of the lovedust than that means they could reverse it and find a cure. 

What if you didn’t want them to find a cure? 

You almost talked yourself out of your thought and called yourself a selfish idiot in the process, the goal was for them to help Peter. This could help Peter, you reminded yourself as you got up from your bed to get dressed. 

You weren’t sure where you wanted to go but you thought that your mental health day could carry on to the outside world. 

Mad....why were you mad? 

You had no reason to be so upset and you kept reminding yourself as the elevator went down to the garage. You aggressively pressed the button to unlock your car and once you sat down in the driver’s seat, you started your car and backed out of the garage. 

It was pouring outside and while you hated driving in the rain, you just had to leave to clear your head. 

Why were you upset?

Maybe because for once in your life, you felt special. 

You stopped on the brakes and you could feel your heart sink into your chest as the rain hit against your windshield. 

You shook your head slowly before you slapped your hands against your steering wheel hard.  

Was it awful that you loved the attention you were getting and maybe, just maybe, you were starting to see Peter differently? 

You slammed your firsts against the wheel again and again as you let out a frustrated grunt through your gritted teeth. 

You were mad that Peter could die. You were mad that there wasn’t a cure. You were mad that the lovedust had ruined your life. You were content without Peter meddling in your life but now that he had left such an impression, all you wanted to do was make sure he stayed as true to himself as he was now. 

You couldn’t expect that from him. You couldn’t expect that once he was cured, he would act back to his regular douchebag self but anything was possible, he didn’t owe you anything. 

You taunted yourself as you tried to snap out of whatever this hellish tantrum you were throwing. 

Why would you be upset over a guy who had fake feelings for you all this time? 

It wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t your fault either.

Anyone. It could have been anyone. It could’ve been a sockpuppet and Peter would’ve probably tried marrying the damn thing. 

You snapped your head over to the passenger side of the door once you heard a hard tap come from the window. Once you saw it was Peter, you turned to face the front and unlocked the door without looking back at him. 

He opened the door and sat down beside you in the passenger seat without saying anything. He was soaking wet from head to toe and while you were annoyed he was getting the inside of your car wet, you had more important things to focus on. 

It was too quiet for your liking but there wasn’t anything you wanted to say to him. Frankly, you weren’t sure why you even let him in.

“ How did you sleep?” Peter asked quietly as he tested the waters.

It was clear that you were in some type of mood but Peter never knew how to approach situations like this, especially since he didn’t know why you were so upset. 

“ I slept fine, you?” 

“ Good I guess,” Peter shrugged as he shifted awkwardly in his seat,” are you okay? Are you upset about what happened last night-”

“ No,” You said truthfully as you leaned your head back against the headrest,” I mean, yes, I’m okay but no I’m not upset about last night.”

“ Well something is clearly bothering you and I just want to help. You know you can tell me anything, I mean it Y/N, we’re friends now. We shouldn’t be hiding things from each other,” Peter said as you let out a dry laugh. 

You knew you couldn’t reveal everything to Peter about what your dad had told you but it didn’t stop you from feeling angry. 

“ Okay, you want to be honest, lets be honest. When were you going to tell me that you collapsed at the lab?” You asked as you turned your whole body to face him,” my dad told me this morning.” 

Peter inhaled deeply but looked you straight in the eye,” I was going to tell you... eventually. It’s not like I had time to really sit down with you, I know you’re going through a lot right now and I didn’t want to stress you out. Besides, I feel fine now, it’s not a big deal.”

It was a big deal, he could die. That’s what you wanted to tell him. His life was at stake and yet you were keeping this big secret from him. It was hypocritical and wrong and if anyone else had told you, you would’ve revealed to Peter about his worsening condition. 

But it was your dad who told you to keep things a secret for now and you just had to trust him for both of your sakes. 

You looked at him for a moment as you studied his face while he did the same to you. It was as if you both had so much on your mind yet no one wanted to be the first one to detonate the bomb. 

“ I’m just so tired Peter. I’m tired of having conflicted feelings on whether or not this lovedust has been creating more problems than solving them… Whatever this is between us, I like it a lot but I hate feeling so pathetic to the point where I actually enjoy the feeling of having a guy give me attention only because of some space shit,” You turned your attention back to the steering wheel,” How do we carry on with our lives once you’re cured? What’s stopping you from being a complete asshole to me like before?” 

“ I told you, nothing has to change. No matter what happens, we’ll always be in each other’s lives as friends or something more. I would never treat you the way I did in the past, I swear on my life.” 

Peter could feel the energy in the car shift right as he finished speaking but there was nothing he could do to change the course of the conversation. The path had already been set and now, he just had to strap in and hope he could hang on. 

“ How am I supposed to believe that? How do I know anything you’re saying is true? Everything this lovedust has been built on is a lie, you don’t love me Peter. It’s a fucking chemical reaction that is messing with your body,” You snapped loudly but Peter hardly flinched,” your mind and body has been corrupted by a parasite. You say you love me but if you take the lovedust away, you don’t. It’s that simple.” 

“ Just because it’s a chemical reaction doesn’t mean that the way I’m feeling is a lie. I spend so many nights thinking about you and how happy you make me so for you to say that I don’t actually love you-”

“ Are you listening to yourself? You love me because of the dust, why is that so hard for you to understand? Love is supposed to be natural, this is not natural!  If the way you’re feeling isn’t a lie, look me in the eye right now and tell me, did you love me before the lovedust?” You asked as you turned back to face him,” tell me the honest truth, did you love me?” 

Peter felt like his body was burning up in the worst possible way and his throat felt dry as he thought carefully. It was so hard for him to see how terrible he was in the past because of the lovedust, all he could think when he saw you was just utter love. 

You were visibly hurt, even if you were shouting at him he could read you like a book and there was something that he knew was there but he just couldn’t figure out what it was. It felt like some sort of test that Peter had to decipher; he didn’t have all of the pieces of the puzzle so how was he supposed to get the full picture? 

“ I don’t...no. No I didn’t,” Peter said softly as you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding,” but that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about you.” 

There it was, the million-dollar answer to the million-dollar question. Of course he didn’t love you, he had tormented you for years. Your dad’s “theory” was right, the lovedust didn’t matter if he had loved you beforehand. It could’ve been anyone. 

So even if you might’ve known all along, why did it hurt and why were you upset?

“ Stop lying to me. You never cared about me, you loved humiliating me,” You said in a shaky breath,” you loved seeing me cry and you loved it when I got mad. I could see it all across your face, you loved making me absolutely miserable. So you can say you love me all you want now, but I know the truth. You don’t understand, this lovedust is ruining me, Peter. Do you know how painful it is to be tormented for years and all of a sudden, the same person is now in love with you just like that?” 

“ Ruining you? You didn’t touch the damn thing! And you want to talk about pain-Do you know how painful it is to love you?” Peter shouted as he felt his voice crack,” If I’m not near you, I feel like I’m going to die but when I’m around you, my chest feels like it’s going to burst open and it’s painful. I’m in pain right when I wake up in the morning to right before I go to sleep everyday because the mere thought of you drives me insane-” 

“ I didn’t ask for you to love me-”

“ I didn’t ask to love you either!” Peter shouted back louder, this time to make sure you would stop interrupting him,” My body feels weak all the time, I’m fucking falling apart because I love you so much. So don’t tell me that I’m lying about loving you because that’s all I feel when I look at you. Even when I’m pissed off I still love you but if you think for one second I’m going to sit here and let you attack me for my past that I have already apologized for, then I don’t want to hear it.” 

Peter gave you one last look before getting out of your car and straight into the rain. Peter slammed the car door behind him so hard to where the door completely fell off the hinges but Peter was so angry that he kept walking away. 

“ You fucking...ugh!” You screamed as you got out of your car and followed behind him. 

You were completely livid, you both were being unfair but just because he was going through a different type of pain than you didn’t mean yours hurt any less. 

You shouted after Peter but the rain was so loud to the point where you considered that maybe he just couldn’t hear you. You sped up your pace to the point where you almost slipped against the concrete. 

“ You don’t get to tell me that I can’t be mad at the past Peter when it’s only been a week since you got infected!” You yelled as you grabbed Peter’s arm to stop him from walking away from you,” Just because you apologized doesn’t mean I can let it go so easily. For years, you made me feel like I would be alone for the rest of my life because no one would ever love me!”

Peter whipped his head back around to face you as you kept a strong grip around his wrist,“ And I’m telling you now that I love you and I was a fucking idiot for hurting you. Jesus Y/N I am sorry but we’ve had this conversation before so why are you mad at me?” 

All you could focus on were his eyes, which were darting back and fourth across your face as if he was pleading with you. You had pushed him across the line so many times but now, Peter was pushing back because he just needed a clear answer. 

You both were tired of yelling and fighting and in this moment, Peter was so close to tearing down the walls you had set up for years to keep yourself safe against him. It was eating away at you because deep down, you knew why you were mad at him, you just didn’t know if you could bring yourself to let it slip out of your mouth.

The rain sounded muffled and all you could think about was how cold you were feeling. You were somewhat forcing yourself to focus on anything other than Peter but you were trapped in his desperate gaze. 

You felt your breath hitch as you could feel yourself getting choked up,” I’m mad...I’m mad because the way you feel about me right now, it’s fleeting... it’s temporary. One day when you’re cured, you’re going to stop loving me and that terrifies me.” 

Peter squeezed your hand and you didn’t even realize that while you were talking, the grip you had around his wrist had moved to interlock your fingers with his. You could feel your chest tighten as you moved your eyes down to your hands and you slowly moved your gaze to meet Peter’s. 

“ Why does it terrify you?” Peter asked softly and now it was your turn to plead with him using your eyes as if you were saying please don’t make me say it.

Maybe a part of Peter knew that you wouldn’t admit that maybe, there was something developing between the two of you that you just couldn’t bring yourself to admit. But Peter knew you well and even as he read you like a book, he wanted to hear it for himself. 

“ I’m terrified because…” You almost said it as a whisper and even Peter was having a hard time hearing you because his heart was beating so loudly,” because I…”

You swallowed hard as you looked down at his lips and even if it was just for a second, Peter caught you staring. Peter felt his knees weaken and he was seconds away from just pulling you into his arms but it was your move. 

Peter had given you all the power and while a part of him felt relieved, it didn’t stop him from reaching up and tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear. This was the moment he had been waiting for. 

He had given you all of the puzzle pieces you needed except he saved the last one just for you. He wanted you to put the last piece in so that way you two could step back together and admire all of the hard work you put into it. 

 You would’ve. You were going to let him know everything and unravel in his arms because finally, you could let go.

You wanted nothing more than to pick up that stupid puzzle piece and slam it into the puzzle to show him you were serious. You were going to let your walls crumble down and for once, you were going to be fearless. 

But you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

“ I can’t,” You said softly as you let go of Peter’s hand and practically rushed back towards the building,  leaving Peter alone in the rain. 

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[sweetest-honeybee]

Down to Dust

Chapter 4

Fic Summary: Grian will have to keep the dragon egg secure for the Watchers. But, they’re not the only ones who want it. On a completely unrelated note, Mumbo will have to deal with a version of himself thats only amplified by his No Killing mindset.

Chapter Sumamry: Mumbo was surprised to find that Grian was right when he said the egg was magical.

TW: Slight electrocution I suppose, and descriptions of lightning

Word Count: 2415

Notes: Again, the two farms are in the overworld, not in the Nether or End for the sake of the fic

Enjoy! And this one deserves a Read More because it’s long lol

——————

By the end of the next day, Mumbo had finished his first farm and half of his second farm. Much to his surprise, the egg didn’t bear any harm. It was strangely quiet recently but it didn’t bother him any. At the moment, it was in his inventory should anyone come by and see that he had it. It’d ruin his plans and he didn’t want to give up the egg just yet. Really, he could probably keep it forever. It had been completely safe and comfortable- or, as comfortable as an egg can be- since he stole it. Mumbo called that pretty responsible.

Who was he kidding, Grian would kill him eventually if he never found it himself.

He laid down the last of the comparators for the third row, focused more on finishing his farm than overthinking the egg situation. If all went well so far, they should be able to work on their own if he flipped a lever. The redstoner pulled the egg from his inventory and held it up to his face.

“I think everything looks about right so far, yeah?” He turned the egg as if there was a face to show his work. The egg quite obviously never spoke but it helped to explain the redstone and find the flaws in his contraptions.

Nothing seemed out of place. The first row’s test went swimmingly and by replicating that a few more times, all should go as planned when he tested them together. With his luck it may not happen but he could stand to be a little optimistic at least. Mumbo went on to build the last of the uniform rows and easily finished another quarter of the farm. All was down to just encasing said farm in a wall of glass to avoid the items spilling over the sides.

He stood back once more with his hands on his hips, the egg now by his feet. The redstoner was proud to say the least. He looked down at the egg which only sat stock still. Leaving the egg, he turned to dig in his chest for more materials.

Unbeknownst to him, however, the egg wouldn’t stay still for much longer.

“Glass, glass, where on Earth did I put the glass?” He mumbled to himself. He continued to rummage. Eventually, he pulled away from the chest with an internal cheer. “Of course it was next to the pistons.”

He swirled back around when he began to hear small pops from behind him. As he did, Mumbo’s eyes widened. Small purple sparks crackled every so often at the base of the egg and quickly began to grow in size. The egg itself launched into a fit of rapid vibrating.

“Oh! Uh-oh!” He dropped the glass next to him, shattering upon impact, and hurriedly jogged to the now terrifyingly lively egg. “Please tell me you're supposed to do that!”

The redstoner hesitated, going to touch it, then pulling away with a worried whimper. Mumbo didn’t want to touch it but he panicked as he was at a loss of what to do. The egg was calm for weeks before now. Even Grian would’ve said something if the egg had done something like this before Mumbo stole it.

Ah…Grian did tell him it was a magical egg.

Mumbo only thought Grian was joking to keep him from taking it. He’s never seen a dragon egg do that! It was just from the update, he suggested to himself. Eggs were just suddenly powerful and might destroy his days of work. He laughed nervously and pulled at his tie. It didn’t matter what he thought, the small sparks were now large bolts that shot their way into the ground. It singed the grass around it, turning it to a coal black. He had to back away from the egg’s ever expanding radius of energy.

“Oh what do I do- what do I do?!” Then, the obvious idea appeared and he palmed his forehead. “Grian!”

The redstoner fumbled to get his communicator from his pocket, almost dropping it several times. He miss-clicked several icons with petrified fingers and growled in frustration. Only when he finally opened the chat, the egg ceased its episode with an immediate halt. He looked up from the screen with caution and took another step away from the egg.

The area fell silent. Not a bird’s chirp or leave’s rustle broke the blanket of stillness that suddenly washed over everything. It wasn’t a comfortable silence, though.

He inched forward with small steps, clutching his communicator. Seconds passed, then a minute.

“H…Hello?” He said tentatively. He stuck a leg out, poking at it with the tip of his shoe then retracting his leg once more. A sigh escaped his lips. “Good, I guess that’s over with then.”

But it wasn’t. The egg was hardly finished as the bolts started again, much much larger than their already massive size they reached before it stopped the first time. Mumbo shrieked and attempted to retreat back to his chest. It took no longer than five seconds before a wave of the purple energy resonated through the ground and absorbed into the two farms. It knocked Mumbo from his feet and onto the grass, sending an electric shiver through his body.

He shielded his neck with his arms and waited. He only turned over when the sounds of roaring pistons caught his attention. But, that was hardly what he worried about as he watched in awe- good or bad, he wasn’t sure yet- at the effects of the egg’s sudden show of magic.

Both farms were activated and running faster than any farm he’d ever seen. Items upon items flowed down water streams and into stacks of chests. Some items avoided their intended route and simply floated in all directions above the farms. It was loud, incredibly loud. Mumbo nearly had to cover his ears as he initially cowered from the noise. However, he soon pulled himself to his feet and slowly approached the over-efficient farms.

A violet haze emitted from the redstone, replacing its originally reddish color, and from the cracks between each set of stone bricks. Each block crackled and hissed with energy, and it almost felt as if he were gaining some of that energy himself. Small bolts fizzled out over his suit. He lifted his left hand and turned it over, watching as sparks flew over and down his fingers to their tips.

To put it simply, it was a beautiful and supernatural sight. He wasn't sure how to react. His own heart was still racing- from the energy around him or his nerves, he also didn’t know.

While in the middle of the two farms, he glanced back at the egg which no longer twisted and turned, but sat with slowly flowing violet streams of energy penetrating the ground. Much like the hum of a conduit sounded from it. Now, it seemed very calm in contrast to its earlier fit. Mumbo assumed- for obvious reasons, really- that the egg powered the farms despite the contraptions having been able to power themselves via redstone. It was captivating and he couldn’t help but to become curious about what was inside the egg that would’ve given it so much power. That or had it already been created with it. Either way, he yearned to learn more about it. It could be revolutionary and improve efficiency immensely.

Although, the event was short lived as the egg’s energy flow sputtered and dissipated, leading to the farms shutting down with it. Mumbo looked up as items began to rain over his shoulders when they fell. But, he was hardly bothered. At this moment he realized a few things.

His farms worked, thankfully; The egg held an amount of power that could power several farms; Mumbo wanted to keep the egg for even longer to experiment.

Of course, he still wanted to eventually return it but as someone who couldn’t kill anything, the egg could help him for the time being...He already had many ideas popping into his head by the second. It only made him giddy for what was to come. He ran over and scooped up the egg with an ear-to-ear grin, holding it up to his face.

“You, my friend, are one wicked egg,” he complimented. Then, he put it in his inventory and prepared to fly home. He’d clean up the mess later.

As he rocketed off to his base, he noticed his red sweatered friend sitting alone on the roof of his house. Even when Mumbo flew by, Grian didn’t wave or nod up to him or really even look at him. Piquing his curiosity, though he should just go home and avoid confrontation, he landed behind Grian and carefully stepped down the slope of the roof.

“Hey! Haven’t heard from you much today,” he greeted. Mumbo was only met with silence. “Are you okay?”

After a second, Grian twitched when he realized that someone was talking to him. He turned his head to where Mumbo crouched down next to him.

“Oh! Sorry, I was just thinking. This is my thinking roof.”

The redstoner hummed. “Ah, don’t wear yourself out then,” he laughed.

“You should try it sometime with that empty head of yours.” The avian chuckled dryly and looked back to the setting sun, the small smile falling from his face.

“Thanks,” Mumbo replied, initially with a smile himself but found himself meeting Grian’s frown. He waited a few seconds before speaking again. Then, he tapped his fingers on the deepslate. “So...what’re you thinking about?”

“A lot, honestly. It's still the beginning of the season, I’m sure everyone is.” He waved a hand dismissively then looked at Mumbo. “What about you? Have you been thinking about anything?”

Mumbo snorted, attempting to lighten the mood. “Thinking isn’t good for me. I overthink when I do and it hurts my brain.” He paused. “But, if you’d really like to know, I’ve been thinking about the egg.”

This made Grian perk up. “What about it? Do you know where it is?”

The redstoner hesitated. Not yet, he can’t give it up just yet. “What? No, not at all. But, I had a question.”

Grian deflated, then looked away with his chin on his arms, legs tucked to his chest. “Alright, shoot.”

Mumbo’s stomach twisted. “I uh- maybe now isn’t the best time actually. You know, while it’s missing and all.” He cracked a half smile.

“Yeah, while it’s missing,” the builder scoffed. “Just ask me, I’m sure I can answer.”

“Ah- um, sure. Why...why is the egg so special to you? I understand sentimentality, but it just seemed more…” He sighed. “I don’t know. I wondered maybe- maybe it uh… did something, you know? You said it was a magical egg. Maybe you could tell me about it?”

He heard a low chuckle from Grian. “It’s just some stupid egg, it’s not magical.”

“I- oh.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that was disappointing for you, wasn’t it,” Grian sneered. The two stopped. Grian pulled his head up and Mumbo furrowed his brows. “Nevermind, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry. Just stressed.”

Mumbo stood and tightened his jaw, ignoring the builder’s excuse. “You know, you’ve been real onto me about that egg. Why don’t you tell me about that instead or go bother Scar. Every conversation I have with you now is just accusing me of taking it.”

Grian thought back to what Aisling said, then his last thought before he came to the roof. “Because maybe I saw you sneak into my house and steal the egg. And maybe, I don’t know, it’s my stuff.” He stood and faced Mumbo with a finger to the redstoner’s chest. “And maybe it’s because you are an insanely terrible liar.”

The other was at a loss for words, opening his mouth then clamping it shut repeatedly. The tips of his ears reddened in embarrassment. Of course Grian probably saw him take it, anyone could’ve. But why didn’t he say anything before? Satisfaction? Did he want Mumbo to just admit to it?

It didn’t matter now, the jig was up and all of his plans for the egg were now down the drain.

“I- I’m sorry,” was all he could muster. “I didn’t think it was such a problem.” He looked down at his shoes. “You…have been acting differently since it was gone, I didn’t think I made you mad.”

The avian sighed in relief and put a hand on Mumbo’s shoulder. “I’m not- look at me,” Mumbo lifted his head, “I’m not mad. Really, I’m not. A little annoyed, maybe, but not mad.”

“But you just scolded me like a toddler!” The redstoner whined.

Grian laughed. “Because you have to do that when a toddler lies to you. But, I’m not angry at you, at Scar, or anyone else. I want to tell you why that egg is important, I do, but it’s not the time for that, yet.” He patted his friend’s shoulder. It was clear Mumbo had more questions but decided to avoid them. “So, where is it?”

“Ah- well, I should warn you first about something.” Grian’s eyes widened. “No, no! Nothing happened to it! But um- well, it’s not ‘just some stupid egg’, it’s one seriously powerful egg, dude. What kind of dragon did you fight?!”

“...Excuse me?”

“Yeah! It powered two of my farms at once, did this huge explosion thing with a bunch of lightning, and it was awesome, but the egg-”

Grian took a hold of Mumbo’s shoulders roughly. “Mumbo, did it do anything to you.” The builder was suddenly very serious, as if Mumbo would die if he said yes.

So, of course he lied. “No? I was well away from it.” Grian let go and crossed his arms with a raised brow. “I was! I ran away because I obviously didn’t want to die.”

The other sighed. “Good, I need it now, then.”

Mumbo pulled it from his inventory, hesitating to give it back. Then, he put it in Grian’s outstretched palm. With nothing more to say, he waved goodbye and glided back to his van. Grian watched as he did and once the van’s door slid shut, he looked down at the egg. While he inspected the egg, he noticed a new detail to its shell that made his stomach sink.

A cursive two letter initial, MJ.

[coldsoupbowl-blog]

For The Sake Of Better Times (Ler Hawks/Lee Dabi)

This has been a long time coming bruh. Hope you like it Eevee my heart and soul was poured into this. Love you and everything that you do <3

When you see big bad villains on TV or on the big screen, you usually see them in the midst of an incredible battle. Guns blaring, fiery explosions, big declarations of their victory over the hero. All of these big productions of turning the world into something that fits their own worldview, even if that worldview is broken and demented. One often wonders what's going on behind the mind of someone who has that worldview; one who sees a perfectly fine place as disgusting and corrupt. Because they've been through the disgusting and corrupt, and they know that not everyone's glass walls have been shattered as theirs has. The big explosions and wide killing sprees and wild maniacal laughter of a textbook villain is nothing compared to the wild currents blurring their mind and storming their heart.

  The League of Villains, a villain organization made up of powerful quirk abusers and double agents had no current agenda as of today. Most of the patrons that made up the alliance were residing in their hideout, a hollowed-out building that was restored to resemble a bar service. One of the villains that participated in the League, Dabi, occupied a bar stool and watched the latest news intently from the flat screen in the corner of the room.

 A new interrogation method against villains was being proposed by the Hero Commission, the spokesperson reported, an interrogation method that would take a sensitivity-heightening quirk and develop it into a mass-produced serum. This serum, once administered, would take the subjects five senses and heighten them to make nearly any stimuli incredibly uncomfortable. Using this, tools and extra manpower would be unnecessary seeing as how the subject would be sensitive to almost anything that would be thrown at them.  

 Dabi rolled his lidded eyes at this. What a pathetic way of saying that the Hero Commission couldn't handle the enemies as they came, they had to power them down as well as they could to get the upper hand. Taking advantage of the villain's five senses just for interrogation purposes seemed inhumane. Another patron to the League of Villains, Himiko Toga, didn't have the same reaction to this news, however.

 "Ehehehee!~ Doesn't that sound so thrilling, Dabi-Kun? Being unable to resist anything the interrogators decide to do to your unwilling body, whether you liked it or not? What if the interrogator is cute, all of your forced reactions will be the product of their actions against you! Ooooh, my heart is pounding!~" Toga smiled dreamily and twirled around like a princess, although Dabi didn't know any princesses who wielded knives with dried blood crusted over the blade. Toga threw herself onto Dabi's shoulders and pinched the spikes that his onyx hair naturally made when it was tousled like this.

 "Say you agree with me, Dabi-Kun~ We can be freaks together!" Toga's voice dropped to a seductive mutter in Dabi's ear, but this had no effect on him. The villain wasn't attracted to girls like Toga, or girls of any nature, now that he was finding out. He was about to reply, surprisingly, before he felt a finger slide down his side. He felt the pressure end at the top of his hip, but to this, he only gazed at Toga's hand to make sure the blonde villain didn't pull anything. Toga visibly pouted when the male villain didn't give her the reaction she wanted.  

 "Dabi-Kun! You're not ticklish? Why nooot? No tickles for big bad Blueflame?" Toga's fingers started to wriggle over Dabi's left side, but he simply watched. Watching the fingers slide over his cotton shirt made a memory flashbang in his mind, but the vision soon slid away once he thought about it. The bored villain slapped away his partner's hand and signaled the barkeep, Kurogiri, for a drink.

 "I don't have time for kid games like those." He said simply. This caught the attention of a certain personality in the room, a personality that not everyone was excited to see, but his presence was necessary nevertheless. The number two hero on the Pro Hero Charts, Keigo Takami, or Hawks, peered up above the couch he was seated on to get a glimpse of the onyx villain. The double agent's amber eyes shone in the dim lighting as something that the villain said piqued his interest.

 "Oh boo. You and Shiggy-Kun aren't ticklish like I want you to be. This place would be so much cuter if you were! Maybe I can steal a few of those serums from the Hero Commission and turn you into my little-" Toga daydreamed out loud, but a swooshing sound interrupted behind her, like a pile of feathers were thrown onto a chair. In a sense, they were. The double agent Hawks had selected a barstool to sit in next to Dabi, which Dabi groaned at. Hawks gave Toga a warm smile despite their different lines of profession.

 "Himiko, Shig-Man needs to see ya in his office. Said it was urgent, and you know he hates to wait. Maybe he overheard your serum idea and wants to play a prank on Twice." At this, Toga swooned and gave a girlish squeal of excitement.

  "Oh, how exciting! I already know the table I want to strap him into!~" The blonde villain skipped out of the room, humming a sweet song despite her knife scraping up the plaster on the walls as she ran past. Hawks watched her leave and shook his head, turning back to see Kurogiri handing Dabi his drink.

  "So, Staples, when you say that you don't have time for certain kid games, what exactly are those kid games? Are you saying that you played different games when you were a kid?" Dabi threw the conniving man a sideways glance as he finished the sip of his darkly colored drink.

  "Staples? The hell kinda name is that? It's Dabi, and nothing more. Secondly, you don't get to know the kid games I played when I was younger. Because I didn't play any of them." Dabi's tone was quiet but forceful. Sometimes that was scarier than being loud and upfront. Hawks, or Keigo, drummed his fingers over the wooden barkeep. Dabi's response didn't scare him, not this time anyway; it riled him up. His crimson wings were puffed up and clearly agitated like an upset bird.

 "So what did you do over the course of your childhood then? You didn't pop up in the gutter at 24 years old and just start blowing shit up." Keigo was needling for something; he didn't know what it was exactly, he just wanted to get any indication that Dabi had been happy at least once in his life. Maybe happy with a childhood friend-

  "Let it alone before I turn you into a burnt chicken wing," Dabi growled and shoved his barstool back to stalk out of the room. Kurogiri watched silently. Keigo's left leg bounced as he thought up an idea to look inside Dabi's past. There was something that the blonde hero was looking for, and maybe with enough pressure, Dabi would give it up. Keigo sniffed and looked up to the television, the Pro Hero Eraserhead speaking on the panel about the developments of the sensitivity-heightening serum.

 "-serum is now being trial-tested against our own strongest participants. This project will put an end to cruel and unusual interrogation methods. The Hero Commission recognizes that these villains are wicked, yes, but they still deserve to be treated with a level of dignity and respect that these new developing methods will offer. Thank you very much for your time." The tired hero stood from his chair and bowed towards the reporters who were all asking their questions at once. Keigo's wings suddenly perked up with an incredible idea.  

 '''''''''''''''''''''''''

 "Yeah, Shig said he wanted us in the conference room. Something about this sensitivity-heightening serum has him rubbed the wrong way." Keigo relayed onto Dabi, who was walking right next to the conniving hero. The hero's heart was racing. Two days after the incident at the bar, the number two hero had pulled some strings with the scientists creating the serum and had them form it into a gas. He had them make it under confidential means. It was the chloroform gas that was the hard part to set up-

 "Whatever it is, let's get done with it. I got shit to do." So short and to the point with him. Keigo was jealous of Dabi's straightforward demeanor. Alright, the room was almost here. Just a little bit further before Dabi realized that they were needed in the conference room that was on the other side of the building.

The golden double agent and the onyx villain walked into a decontamination hallway, the doors on either side locking and bolting shut. Dabi looked visibly confused before it was replaced with his usual bored expression. The villain turned to the hero for an explanation. Keigo shrugged nonchalantly.  

 "You know the boss. Every precaution is not nearly enough..." Dabi had turned his back on the hero as he narrowed his eyes towards the chambers that held the decontaminating spray. There were black nozzles screwed onto the chambers that hadn't been there before. Dabi's cyan eyes flew open as a thin vapor began to seep into the chamber. Keigo had just clamped a mask over his own mouth and nose as Dabi was already losing consciousness, his knees striking the floor and his hands sending out small defensive flames. Keigo relished a quick moment of pride as he watched the hardened villain choke on the powerful gas, his head already rolling to the side in defeat.

 The hero knelt down beside Dabi and held his cheek; the insane murderer looking almost innocent in his peaceful rest. "Poor Dabi. You'll realize soon enough that I'm doing you a favor. You and I both need to find out what happened to Touya Todoroki.."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''

 The room was cold, freezing even, as if the cold air were needles sticking into his skin. He was too aware of his surroundings even with his eyes closed; the biting leather strapped over his arms and legs, his soft cotton shirt now a lead weight on his chest, his soft aerodynamic hair now a dense mat on his forehead. It was incredibly bizarre and uncomfortable; it was like he was feeling everything all at once. And not just feeling; The dim lights in the room were bright enough to him that they stabbed into his shut eyes, he could taste the acrid gas that had knocked him out on his tongue despite it being hours since that had happened, the low buzzing of the generator outside of this holding cell was a high enough frequency to give him a headache. The skin stitched between his scarred skin and pale skin were like live wires sparking against his nerves.

 "Sensory overload, must be absolute hell. I can't imagine what it must feel like. Then again I'm not really interested in finding out. Oh, and don't try to get yourself out with your flames. Not only will it hurt like hell against your sensitive skin, but your quirk has been canceled out anyway. I totally didn't have some guests over while you were konked to help me set this up...and take pictures of you." The voice that was speaking to Dabi sounded like he was fighting back a laugh. It was also damn loud and obnoxious, more so than with this sensitivity-heightening serum coursing through his veins.

 Dabi's lidded eyes opened with a furiousness in his pupils so honest that Keigo swallowed nervously. Dabi had his arms strapped outward on either side of him, his palms face up and clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Leather straps were pulled tight over his biceps, forearms, and wrists. A belt laid dangling by the side of the table in case his midsection needed restraint, and his legs were held down at his thighs, above his knees and his ankles. Keigo couldn't help but look him over a few times; the villain looked like he was made just to be on this table and in these restraints.

 "Let. Me. Out. Before I set your skeleton on fire." Dabi growled, and pulled on the restraints. They were tight and unforgiving, no wiggling room here. Whatever was in that serum also made sure to sap him of his strength; the once strong villain felt as if he were made of liquid. Keigo shook his head and tsked, walking over to place a hand on Dabi's belly. The hero's light hand felt like a five-pound weight on the sensitive villain. Dabi watched the hero's every move, although it didn't feel like nearly enough to prepare him for what was to come.

"Tsk tsk, little blueflame. You really think I'd set you free after everything I've done to get you here? Not to mention," Keigo's luminous golden eyes looked up to Dabi's cyan ones, a hardened seriousness in the pupils, "that you're a convicted child abductor." Keigo removed his hand from Dabi's chest, and Dabi took in a deep breath once Keigo had looked away. The villain felt as if a  weight had been removed from his chest. This serum was horribly effective; it almost made him sick.

 Keigo turned back to Dabi and cracked his knuckles. Dabi started to sweat; he had no idea just how elevated his nerve endings were and how they would receive everything, but he felt like all of his nerves were standing on the edge of his skin, just underneath the surface. Despite his anxiety, Dabi cleared his throat and shook his head.

 "I'm no child abductor. That brat from UA was Shigaraki's project. I knew the kid was bad news from the start." His voice came out evenly, thank God. But this didn't convince Hawks. Keigo walked back over to Dabi and inspected his restraints. The fun must be about to start, Dabi involuntarily thought in his head. He took choppy breathes, wondering what torture would be first on the docket.

"Nah ah ah, not Bakugou. I'm talking about Touya Todoroki. He's been missing for about 10 years now. He came from a loving family with siblings and friends alike...but he suddenly disappeared. And you were the last one to have been seen around him." Dabi's heart flipped at the name. He didn't know why, he's never heard the name before. But something settled in his stomach like a fluttering of butterfly wings. Keigo placed his hands flat on the table on either side of Dabi, the warmth of his skin was even felt against Dabi's hypersensitive nerves.

 "You're gonna tell me what you did to Touya Todoroki, even if I have to force you." Dabi looked at Keigo like he was a crazy person. He's never taken a kid named Touya, but his body felt like it remembered the name even if his brain didn't. Dabi cleared his throat and hardened himself before looking back up at Keigo.

 "Whatever you do won't get the truth. You have the wrong guy, and even if I did have any idea what you're talking about, I wouldn't give you shit." Keigo chuckled darkly at this and set his bare fingers up to Dabi's triceps and traced along the muscled lines in his skin. Keigo hardened his own expression, flat gold disks looking into even blue plains, and smirked at Dabi's immediate reaction. The villain had twitched and jolted in his chair, his fists balling up and his muscles flexing underneath the leather straps.

 "We'll see about that. Oh-ho-ho, we'll see." The blonde hero kept his smirk on his face as Dabi tried to worm away from the alien sensations; Keigo lightly tracing his fingers underneath the villain's twitching arms. Dabi hasn't felt a sensation this light in years; he's completely forgotten anything could feel so gentle and tingly.

 "Ya know Stitches, this sensitivity-heightening quirk caught my eye for a reason. The scientists who developed it reported that nerves the subject thought had gone dormant years ago were suddenly reawakened, like the kindles of a dying fire bursting into bright flames in a split second." Dabi's fingers knuckled, his breath hitching as Keigo's fingers skittered nearest to his open armpits, but scuttled back at the last second. Dabi shuddered and let out his breath silently. Keigo however, soaked in every delicious reaction with a sadistic hunger.

 "At first I thought, "There's no way hardened lowlife criminals could be so sensitive to such small stimulus. Bright lights, loud music, gross smells-" Keigo took both of his pointer fingers and circled them around the outer rim of Dabi's armpits, which made Dabi's eyes fly open and suck in his breath. The damn tingles were climbing in his arms and fluttering in his chest, like there was a swarm of butterflies caged in behind his ribs. "-light touches~ Oh don't tell me these light touches are doing anything for you, are they? They're already drawing out such animated expressions from the most stoic man I've ever seen stalk this earth."

 Dabi's stomach was jumping, like he was going uphill on a rollercoaster, just waiting for the descent. The onyx villain's fingers relaxed, however, once Keigo drew his own fingers away from the sensitive spot. Keigo quirked his lips and held his chin, in a thinking pose before the restrained criminal. The blonde hero resembled a butcher standing over a cow carcass, wondering which part of the animal he was gonna slice up first. Dabi swallowed in a dry throat as he chose his words cautiously. As he opened his mouth to speak, Keigo pointed a finger to the ceiling as he thought up what he wanted to say with a delighted grin on his face.    

 "Of course. There just so happens to be a word for this phenomenon, these light touches that feel like they're taking over your body~" Keigo suddenly swooped in close to Dabi and layered all ten of his fingers onto Dabi's raised individual ribs. Dabi's eyes stared right into the double agent's unreadable expression as the fingers started to press in.

 "It's called 'tickling', the kid games that you were dissing earlier. Looks like we have all the time in the world to play them now, right little blueflame? And you're just sensitive enough to enjoy them this time with me~" Keigo's fingers shook into Dabi's ribs, each finger taking up a bone and vibrating into it. Dabi winced instinctively, but instead of pain, he found maddening consistent tingles. Ungracefully, the villain let out a snort and started letting out frantic giggles. His muscled arms pulling on the restraints and his legs hitched up to try and curl into a ball.

 "Pffmmt- H-Hahahawks! S-Stohohop thihihis nahahahaow!" Deep baritone laughs rumbled out from Dabi's chest without his consent. There was no restraining or trying to keep back his giggles. Keigo's fingers were like lead weights scribbling on his hypersensitive skin. Keigo had a proud look on his face; he was half-expecting for something like this to simply not work on Dabi. But it seemed the exact opposite was true. This was working a little TOO well; with the hardened criminals face bright and squinted in a look of happiness.

 "Mmhmm... If you wanna tell me what happened to Touya Todoroki, I'd be more than happy to help you. On the other hand, though, it looks like you're missing some ribs there, kid. Wouldn't want ya walking around with half an empty ribcage, now would we~" Keigo narrowed his eyes with a smirk on his face as he started from the top of Dabi's ribcage and made sure to scritch each bone and count loudly enough for the villain to hear.

 "Ooone...twooo...threee-" "Keihehehego stohohohop!" "Mmmm...I don't think 'stop' is an acceptable number, I'll have to start aaaall the way back at the top~" With Dabi's arms spread on either side of him, every time he bucked to rid himself of the sensation just pushed the hero's lead fingers into his sensitive skin. His skin felt as if Keigo's fingers were actually about to reach inside of him and count the bare bones of his skeleton.

 The blonde hero took a moment, stilling his fingers, to watch Dabi's reactions to his stimulus. A bright smile infused with mirth was spread across his face; his eyes already glittering over with tears, and his fluffy hair crowned his head to make him look like a bashful giggling kid. His cheeks were dusted over with a light pink from all his hard chuckles. Keigo bit his tongue to keep back the truth; he wanted to blurt it all out for Dabi so they could hurry up and reminisce together.

 The hero covered up his torture stopping by becoming all business and suddenly gripping Dabi's chin to force him to look up into his golden eyes. Dabi was woozy from his lack of oxygen, a dumb smile still plastered across his face. It made Hawks' heart do kickflips, but he couldn't speak to that now.

 "Touya Todoroki was declared a missing person 10 years ago on October 25th, 2010. What did you do with him? Is he still alive? When is his birthday?" Keigo threw all of these questions at once at the dumbfounded villain. The villain tried to jerk his head out from the hero's grip but the hero held on tight.

 "I told you already you fucking dumbass birdbrain! I never abducted any kid! The squirt probably got hit by a train or was bullied to death by some bastard schoolkids!" That last yelp of desperation left his chest without him realizing what he said. Bullied to death....bullied?  Something about that doesn't feel right. Like...it's true. Maybe the kid was bullied. It's almost as if... I've experienced it-  

 Dabi's thoughts were suddenly scattered with his own bouncing cackles; Hawks' fingers gripping his slender sides and squeezing into them. Hawks made sure to hold onto his bottom ribs and taze them while his thumbs squished into the criminal's skin. Dabi jerked on his leather restraints as the cords of his neck stood out on the surface of his skin from his insane laughter.

 "GAHAHAHAD!! STAHAHAHAP!! I DOHOHON'T KNOHOHOW SHIHIHIT!! I SWEHEHEAR!!' The criminal's eyes screwed shut tightly in his laughter, the vibrations so deep and pronounced that it felt like it was inside of him. Dabi's knees pulled up and slammed back down on the table in an attempt to do anything to get out of this situation, but his restraints were too tight. Keigo had a VERY amused look on his face at this recent development.

 "Swearing already?~ That's cause for celebration, isn't it? Bravo to our modern scientists for creating something so malicious that it made our hardened criminal swear within the first five minutes~ Although, it doesn't answer my question. Where is Touya Todoroki? What color is his hair? What outfit was he wearing on the day you captured him?" Keigo threw nonsense questions at Dabi to see how he would react to them. Of course, Keigo already knew all of the answers, in part anyway, but he wanted to see how this villain would crack under the pressure. The hero's fingers vibrated in Dabi's lowest ribs as his thumbs massaged in two places on his lean belly. Keigo tried not to look for too long at the villain's contracting abs.

 Dabi's limbs were restless in their quest to try and weasel their way out of this situation; his legs and arms squirming and wrestling against the restraints. Dabi's fists balled up to try and fight the maddening tingling sensations, and his hips bucked up like the bronco he was only to slam down on the table once more. Keigo felt like he was tickling the riding bull you find in dive bars and the like.

 "I SAHAHAID I DOHOHON'T KNOHOHOW THE FUHUHUCKING KID!! YOU GAHAHAHA!-" Dabi's deep rumbling laughter soon turned into high pitched hysterical giggles. Keigo's crimson wings had accidentally fluttered over the criminal's belly as he had shifted in his place. Keigo looked back at his magnificent wings and soon had a horrible look shadow over his face. The hero's fingers stilled once more as he plucked a feather out from his own wing. Dabi's cyan eyes were rolled to the back of his head as he laid limp on the table; his mouth open and sucking in as much oxygen as possible.

 "I don't think that's gonna cut it, Patches. I want real answers, not this tippy-toe bullshit you keep pulling on me. I'm gonna get what I'm looking for even if it means I have to kill you." His voice was deep and serious enough for Dabi to perk up and look at him. Dabi didn't care about dying; he even welcomed it at this point just to get out of this damn table. Dabi turned sharply towards his collarbone and coughed into his shoulder. A regular cough wouldn't hurt unless it was a virus, but Dabi's hyper-sensitive insides made this cough burn up his parched throat. The villain looked back with a newfound seriousness and tried not to look too terrified at the slim wiggling feather in the hero's hand.

 "Ask the multiple personalities dude or the blonde psycho bitch! They're always up to some random bullshit that doesn't involve me. I only live by Stain's ideologies and live up to the expectations to make the future he wanted to be realized. Child abduction isn't gonna make that future happen!" Even Dabi could hear the desperation in his own voice; he wanted to kill Hawks for making him so vulnerable. Especially while the hero was looking down at him with that damn lazy smirk, like this was all too amusing for him.

 Keigo took a long breath and twirled the feather in between his fingers; his lips quirked in that thinking look once more. Dabi's eyes couldn't tear away from the hypnotizing piece of tickling equipment. The blonde hero could tell that Dabi was getting shrill, and distraught at that. He was getting there; with just a little more pushing Keigo could possibly unlock Dabi's memories and make him see that HE was Touya Todoroki himself. That's what all of this was.

 "Mmmm... not convinced. Sorry, when it comes to child abduction cases like these, pointing fingers won't help when I know YOU'RE the child abductor. Just a matter of time until you wanna admit it to me. But hey, at least it's fun torture and not a messy one, right? A few things I have to do before we get started up again though-" Keigo stepped forward and tucked his feather in the crest of Dabi's ear like he was holding a pencil there.

 "Hold onto that for a second," Keigo said simply as he lifted Dabi's thin cotton shirt and lifted it up over his head.

  "As soon as I get out of these restraints, you're bones are gonna be liquefied inside of your damn disgusting body." Dabi hissed, while Keigo wasn't paying attention to that and staring directly at Dabi's impressive toned six-pack. Dabi followed Keigo's gaze and blushed deeply at the realization. Keigo suddenly snapped out of it and reanimated himself.

 "Oh, well, in that case. I'll just put more on you so that doesn't have to happen!" Keigo flashed Dabi a squinted smile and took the straps that lay on either side of Dabi's hips. Keigo pulled on the leather belt tightly so now his midsection couldn't buck in any direction. The belt also helped pull Dabi's diamond navel taut. Dabi's belly and entire torso were unmarked with his scars; the scars only curving over his sides and disappearing under his pants. Keigo also noted that Dabi's hips were deep and indented, like someone pressed their thumbs into them. They must be really warm and hopefully very sensitive at this rate-

 Keigo cleared his throat and stole back his feather with a wink while he was face to face with Dabi, to which Dabi attempted to headbutt the birdman. It was then that Dabi realized that with the belt now strapped just above his belly button, any wiggling room that he had before had just evaporated.

 "Realizing just how fucked you are? And the effects of the serum don't start depleting until the victim's body has cooled down. The victim's body cooldown tells the serum that the job has been finished and the Hero's have the information they're looking for. Until then, it lasts as long as it needs to." After Keigo's helpful explanation, Dabi then noticed just how hot his body actually was, like he was running a high fever. Which meant that the serum was probably running at it's highest potent capacity to keep him horribly hyper-sensitive to any and all touches. Keigo watched the realization play over Dabi's face as he stepped forward and started circling his wiggly feather over Dabi's belly button.

 Dabi jerked immediately and clamped his teeth down to prevent any giggles from slipping out. Keigo watched with a newfound sadistic hunger; he watched with the sudden drive to make this man shout his lungs out and regret ever forgetting about his childhood best friend.

 "This can all stop if you just tell me where the kid is. Just give me a location and I'll send the heroes on their way. I got a phone right here. I got heroes at my disposal. We're just waiting on you, Patchwork." Keigo continued to circle and even started sweeping his feather across Dabi's strip of belly like he was dusting a piece of furniture.

  Dabi shook his head and kept his laughter caged in his chest. The single feather was so tingly that he wanted to crawl out of his skin. "I mmph- I t-tohold yohou! I- grrmmph- I-I don't knohow ahahanything about the kid! I never heheard his nahame before!" Dabi involuntarily thought back to Touya Todoroki's name, the damn kid that he was being tortured over. In Dabi's haze, he thought he remembered the Bakugou brat having a friend named Todoroki-

 "Wahait wait wait! I-I-I remember something! I reeheemehember sohohomething I promise!" Dabi pleaded, Keigo taking immediate pity and stopping his red wiggly feather. Keigo pointed his feather like an accusing sword towards Dabi's face.

 "If the information is bullshit, you're getting a second dose injected right in your belly button. Imagine that hell burning in your stomach. Think about this wisely." Dabi swallowed what felt like cotton balls in his throat. He didn't know if Keigo was bullshitting or not, but he also didn't know if he could trust his own memories. He's never been able to remember too much of anything past his twenties... Dabi's shaking fingers hardened into fists as he hardened his resolve to get out of this table.

 "Okay okay... The Touya kid has a brother right? Todoroki? What's the half and half kid's name? Shoto? Yeah, it was Shoto. Go fucking torture him for answers instead of me you damn prick! He knows more about his own brother than I do-" At the sound of the repeated use of the word 'brother', a flash of red hair jumped past Dabi's vision. Keigo shook his head and was starting to step forward to tickle the criminal's belly once more before Dabi hurriedly stopped him. "Woah Woah Woah Woah Woah, hold on, hold on! The Touya kid had red hair! Instead of half and half like his brother, he had all red hair." And white hair with red strips, and blank white hair like the snow- Dabi involuntarily remembered this as well, but before he could grab onto it, it slid away.

 Keigo had a pleased look on his face, however. Dabi was starting to remember bits and pieces of the past, and that's what Keigo wanted. Just a little bit further, and hopefully he would remember who he was.

 "Finally, we're getting somewhere. Unfortunately, no cookies for you. We know Touya had red hair, his family comes from a line of gingers. We need to know where the kid is, Dabi. And you're the only one with the answers. So let's hear 'em." Dabi fought the urge to protest as Keigo willed about six of his feathers to detach from his wings and dust over Dabi's belly, while Keigo's fingers gripped his sides and scribbled his manicured nails into them. Dabi pulled on his restraints and cackled loudly into the sound-proof room.

 "CHRIHIHIHIST!! I DOHOHON'T KNOHOHOHOW AHAHAHANYTHING!! LET ME GOHOHOHO!!" Dabi's eyes screwed shut as his mouth was agape with his hysterical laughter. Both Hawks and Dabi were unaware that the reserved and quiet male could produce such sounds. Dabi's veins stood out like cords against his neck as his chest heaved in with his laughter. Such small stimulus is driving him insane, Hawks thought to himself. Six of his feathers from his crimson wings were dusting over his belly and his navel, while his fingers scratched and scraped over the villains pronounced ribcage. Sure, maybe it was a little intense in terms of tickling, but he thought that this would be too easy for the hardened villain. Apparently not; Hawks could see that Dabi was fighting for breath already.

 "HAHAHAHAWKS I SWEAHAHAHAHA-" Dabi cut his own laughter short with a hard snort. One of the fluffy crimson feathers had started twirling itself into Dabi's stretched navel. There was nowhere that the villain could twist on the table to escape its feathery clutches. Hawks cracked half a smile. Even if he were to take his hands off the villain's ribcage to halt his fingers tickling, which he did; Dabi still produced the same amount of crazed hysterical cackles from just the feathers tickling. The double agent stood with his arms folded and watched his childhood best friend laugh an insane amount.

 The villain had tousled his onyx crown all over his eyes; the once fluffy hair now a dense mop against his forehead. Dabi's smile was agape enough that Keigo could see his glinting incisors. His biceps flexed and struggled; the sweeping of the crimson feathers not ceasing for a moment. They traced over his waistline, the deep cavernous dips of his hip indents, fluttering over the small pinch of skin underneath his navel. Keigo stood fascinated by the scene, while Dabi's eyes started rolling in the back of his head.

 "-AHAHAHAP!! I'LL-I'LL TAHAHAHAHALK I PROHOHOMISE!" That roused Keigo out of his stupor. He forgot that Dabi was in an extremely sensitive situation. The agent quickly halted his feathers and lifted them up from Dabi's belly. The feathers had worked so fervently that the villain's hypersensitive skin was a baby pink on the surface of it. Dabi sniffed back his tears of mirth and heaved in delicious clean oxygen. It was ice cold in his lungs, but the villain much preferred it over the sweaty ticklish hell he was just subjected to.

 "Alright, Staples. Get to talking then, or there's gonna be a lot more feathers where that came from. You don't want these puppies all over you in the situation you're in." Keigo flapped his wings and shook them out to showcase his entire wingspan of crimson ticklers, all individually flowing and wiggling delicately in the air. Dabi gave him a death glare, but even the feathers made him gulp. The villain flexed his fingers as he tried to think up of something that this douche didn't already know about the kid. Keigo could see the villain's brain working to think up a bullshit story just to appease him. That just meant more tickles for-

 "He-He was 15 when he went missing. His father had abused him when he was young and he was shunned by his siblings. His mother tried to protect him but-" But she was crazy. And no one protected him. He was the forgotten one, the one who faded into the background. And no one had a problem with that.  

  Dabi choked on his words, clearing his throat and clearing his mind. Keigo watched with interest as Dabi had spilled all of this information from thin air. Even the villain looked confused, he didn't know where this revelation came from.

 "Mm-hmm, quite the truth serum this stuff is, isn't it? Just a little bit more and you can get off this table and get yourself an ice cream." Dabi shot his gaze up to Keigo's eyes and pulled on his restraints.

"N-No! No more I can't handle it! It's too much! Don't do this!" For some reason Dabi didn't even sound convincing to his own ears. Maybe because even he knew that no matter how much pleading he tried, he wouldn't get out of this until he coughed up more information. Keigo looked quite amused by the display, however. That fox's grin was back on his face.

 "Come on now, it can't be that bad, little patch~ It's just some tickling afterall." Dabi's heart stopped when Keigo walked up to him and gently placed his fingers on Dabi's waistline. "Little kid games, right Blueflame? You can handle it." Keigo suddenly gripped Dabi's right hip and squished his thumb inside, making Dabi curl up and giggle like a schoolboy.

  "Gahahahad! Hahahaha-Hahahaow mahahahany tihihihimes?!" "How many times what? How many times do I have to tickle tickle tickle you before you get the gist of your situation? You're not getting out of this until I get my answers, kid. So cough 'em up, before you cough up a lung." Even holding Dabi's hip like this made the villain squeal out. His hips bucked and shook in their binds, which only drove the hero's thumb in further to his divet.

 "I dohohohon't knohohohow anything! I-I cahahan't rehehember!" Hawks could see that Dabi was actively trying to remember something, he wasn't lying in a situation like this. And Keigo wasn't wanting him to remember his childhood trauma or to relive it in any way, he just wanted his childhood best friend to remember him. Hawks took a deep breath in his lungs and decided to up the anty. Hawks sent four crimson feathers up to Dabi's stretched armpits, the wiggling plumes fluffing over the villain's soft divets. Dabi started to shriek, but Hawks suddenly slid his hands down to Dabi's thighs and squished into the soft material.

 Dabi must have unlocked a second quirk along with his Cremate abilities, because Hawks had never heard such an unearthly howl thrash itself from Dabi's chest. Keigo winced from the piercing sounds from the villain as Dabi's eyes were screwed tightly in hysterical cackles with tears budding in the corners of his eyes. The feathers twisting and fluffing in his stretched armpits along with Hawks kneading up and down his toned thighs had the villain in tears. Dabi didn't know which way to buck, to twist, to jump on the table. He was stuck either leaning into the fluffy feathers for more relentless dusting, or to literally push himself into his captors hands for closer and more effective squeezing.

 "Looks like you're in a pickle, bud. I say just cough up the information and be done with the whole thing but, to each their own, right? If you like it, you like it. I won't judge, I'm having way too much fun~" Keigo had his thumbs fixed to the villains inner thighs as his other eight fingers splayed out as wide as they could stretch to squeeze and grip the skin underneath Dabi's jeans. Dabi wanted to tear his hot tingling skin off with how insane the sensations were.

 "SHUHUHUT THE FUHUHUHUCK-GAHAHAHAHAD!! AHAHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHA!!" Dabi was screaming at this rate, the man's throat parched and raw from the yelling. Keigo rolled his eyes at the exclamations of his victim when something silver flashed in his eye. Keigo thought it was probably just the restraints glinting off the light in the room, but it was Dabi's stitches that caught his eye. Keigo suddenly had a stroke of curiosity and reached behind him to pluck a feather from his wings and swiped the fluffy appendage across Dabi's silver stitch.

 It was liked the criminal was electrified, his body jolting like it touched a live current and his insane cackles jumped an octave with the single swipe. Dabi's stitches had already been sensitive to touch even before he had the serum in his body. Now the nerve endings underneath the stitch felt like it was intertwined with the silver itself. Keigo bit his lip at the torture that was to come. Watching Dabi writhe on the table with the feathers in his armpits, Keigo sent six feathers to every visible stitch on the mans body and let the appendages fluff and dust and wriggle all over him. They were twirling in his ears and driving in his collarbones; they were doing figure eights in his armpits and dragging up his triceps; they were skating down his sides and writing nonsense with their quills down the lines of his abs.

 "GOHOHOHOD!! SAHAHAHAVE MEHEHEHEE!! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!! I-I'M DHYHYHYHYING!!" It was a horribly dramatic thing to exclaim that Keigo should have listened to, but the way the bird saw it, if Dabi still had breath in his lungs to shout, then he should be fine. Keigo's never seen such a contorted face on anyone before. It was a mix of childlike happiness and mirth with pure anguish and torture. But, whatever gets the truth out, Keigo supposed. It was only a matter of time before Dabi choked on the truth. And Keigo could never get enough of the sight of Dabi's abs contracting with every giggly laugh harvested from his chest.

 "KEHEEHEEHEE-KEIGO!! KEHEHEHEEIGO PLEHEHEHEHEASE!! STOHOHOHOHOP!! I-I REEHEEMEMBER!! STAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIHIT!!"  Dabi suddenly erupted his confession once Keigo neared his bucking kneecaps with his own fingers. Keigo's feathers and hands suddenly halted; the villains heart bursting through his ribcage. The poor captured man had aching ribs and a sore stomach, and his limbs were irritated from pulling on them for so long. Hawks stood with his hands on his hips. His entire body shivered with flashes and icicles, his searing hot sweat sliding down his icy back. It was complete hell, but the stimulus was enough to break the barrier of his lost memories. This was it. Dabi just needed to remember where he came from and who he used to be. Maybe he'd be more cheerful, or at least a little more...anything, at this point.

 Dabi's head was laid back on the table, his body slightly curled up in the small defense he had. His eyes were rolled up to the whites in exhaustion. But in the swirling chaotic blackness behind his eyelids that he was used to, he saw something new. Something he hasn't appreciated in a long time.

 Summer, the scalding heat on the back of my neck, the taste of ice-cold popsicles, the sand inbetween my toes. Being the kid with the dad who pushed them the highest on the swingset. My scraped knees and elbows patched up by the smiling boy. The summer festival and the exploding fireworks in the infinite sky above me.  My best friend who stood there to watch when nobody else would. Keigo, my best friend. His toothy smile and his squinting eyes; his untied shoelaces and messy hair. He never left my side. But  I left his.

 Suddenly I don't feel so heavy. I don't feel so alone, so burdened with this weight on my chest. Because I know Keigo is there. He always was.

 "And I always will be, Touya." Dabi slowly looked up to see Keigo with a gentle smile on his face. Dabi hadn't realized that he was speaking aloud. Hawks turned to Dabi's right arm and started setting free his aching wrist. But after this newest revelation, Dabi didn't feel hurt anymore. He felt like a completed puzzle; the lost piece that made him whole was finally inserted. Dabi held his wrist to his chest and rubbed over his tingling body to rid himself of the leftover sensations.

 "T-Trauma's a bitch, huh? It...Itmade me forget my best friend, the only one who was truly there for me. I'm...I'm sorry about that, Keigo." Keigo shook his head, his bangs swaying back and forth. "Please, don't be sorry. It's your dad that should apologize. I just wanted you to remember everything that was bright in your life, and not live in this bleak purgatory. You have friends and people who care about you. And you used to smile all the time, you know. I know it's not your fault that you forgot who you were and you forgot how to smile. But now at least, maybe you can put your past to good use in the future."

 Dabi nodded, understanding Keigo's words better than he would have thought. Keigo extended his hand out to Dabi to help him off of the table. Dabi hesitated for a moment, a good second passing before he grabbed it and hopped off the table. Dabi was still slightly curled and hunched even as he walked, his defenses still not lowered after that episode.  

 "Don't worry, it's all over. No more tickles, I promise. Unless you kinda liked it, then I can give you more. I thought I saw you leaning in for some more now and again on the table. You also remember how ticklish you used to be and you still are, right? I mean, I thought something this childish was gonna work on ya dude, but your vocal cords must be thrashed-"

  "Yeah, you know what, Keegs, I think I remember just how ticklish you used to be as well when you were a kid. Care to test it out?" Dabi picked up one of the syringes off the table filled with the swirling blue sensitivity serum with a horribly antagonizing look in his eyes.

 Keigo gulped and ran for dear life.

[believinghurts]

Request For Bill Weasley

Requested: Yes ( @marvelettesassemble ) I hope you like it!

Warnings: Crying?, Slight Violence

Info: Reader comforts Bill after the attack from Greyback. 

If you have a request please send it in. Feedback is always welcomed. 

Should there be a part two? Let me know! 

Scars 

It all happened so quickly. The blink of an eye. One minute you were sitting with Nymphadora and Remus, the next a Patronus was sent in staying that Death Eaters were at Hogwarts. The battle raged on in the upper levels of the school between Order members, some students, and Deatheaters. Hermione and Luna had left to find Flitwick and Snape which left Ginny, Nyphmadora, yourself and Bill to fight Alecto, Rowle, and Greyback. Should have been easier for the four of you, right? Four against three, odds are in your favor till they weren’t. You had been trying to help the three of your friends bouncing between casting spells to aid all of them until Alecto sent two spells quickly towards Ginny who was losing her shields quickly. Bill caught your eye as you were sending a stun spell towards Greyback. 

“Go! Help her!” He yelled out towards you. With one last reluctant look towards him you sprinted towards Ginny while trying to dodge the few rouge spells that were flying around the tower. You sent Petrificus Totalus towards Alecto’s back. He ducks last minute narrowly missing the spell. You see him look over your shoulder with a wicked grin on his face, and the sounds that follow you are sure are going to haunt you for the rest of your days. Greyback, and Alecto leave down the stairs as someone calls for them to go. With a wave they disappear from view as you feel Ginny collapse into your side screaming for her brother. The sight before you send cold running down your spine that you will feel for days. 

Bill lying lifeless on the floor, his face covered in blood and cuts. His shirt ripped from claw marks. And you know. You know that Greyback attacked him. You’re best friends, you’re beautiful best friends that you have loved since Charlie introduced you in third year. You run towards him as Dora makes sure Rowle is completely stunned. Your knees hit the floor with a loud thump as you press two fingers to his pulse point. Breathing out the breath you didn’t know you were holding when you feel the heartbeat. You turn your head to lock eyes with Dora as she holds Ginny on the rumble covered floor. “He’s alive.” 

The next chunk of time is lost on you as you try to hold the blood into Bill’s body. Ginny sat beside you holding Bill’s hand, tears dripping down her cheeks. You know she is blaming herself just as you are blaming yourself. Dora left to get Remus and Madam Pomfrey. It seems as though hours have passed before they return. Pomfrey takes over the wounds you were holding, as Remus gently removes Ginny from her brother and into your arms. You stroke her hair, holding her tight. Ron and Herimoine come up just as Madam Pomfrey explains that he needs to go to Saint Mungos for treatment. Ron silently cries at the sight of his beaten older brother. You all walk towards the apparition point together with Bill floating behind you. Ginny has yet to let go of your arm. You reach the apparition point when Ron and Herimone state that they can’t go with you due to having to help Harry. Remus tells them that he will let them know when we have news. Ginny refuses to leave, stating she will be going with you. 

When you all arrive at St. Mangos, they are ready for him. Taking his straight back as a nurse hands Dora a few forms to fill out. Remus leaves to get Molly, and Arthur. Ginny seems to be coming back to her senses slightly, she shifts so you can wrap your arm around her. You had always been close to her. Not having any siblings of your own, and her only having brothers meant you were a big sister. Molly came into the waiting room with tears running down her face quickly followed by her husband, Fred, and George. Ginny dove straight into her father's arms, crying softly again. Molly wrapped you in a hug as you cried for the first time. She whispered sweet things in your ear before pushing you back enough to cup your face. “What happened?” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and began explaining the best you could as to what happened. At the end of your story sobs had taken you over as you apologize for leaving his side, stating that it was all your fault. You left him and now there was a chance he was going to become a werewolf. You ruined his life. If only you had taken over the fight, and let him go and Ginny instead of you. Then we wouldn’t be here. His family wouldn’t be worried out of their minds as to what was to come. He didn’t deserve this. Remus had come to explain a few things to Molly and Arthur, so George pulled you down to sit on his other side. As if sensing your thoughts he said, “This isn’t your fault. Just like Mum told you. This is Greyback’s fault. You saved Gin, you couldn’t be in two places at the same time. He told you to go. Don’t blame yourself. He’ll be fine, Dragon.” 

His words didn’t fully help you understand that it wasn’t your fault, but you did understand that you really couldn’t have helped both. The next couple of hours went by slowly. Molly took you, and Ginny, to get cleaned up in one of the restrooms. Fleur arrived with her parents, but stayed away from the whole family. George became a pillow to you as Fred did the same for Ginny. Remus had left with Dora for a meeting at Headquarters. When the doctor came out he took Molly and Arthur into a room away from everyone else. It was completely silent till Fleur's mother broke it. 

“What happened?” She all but sneered at the four of you. “I mean I understand that it was a werewolf who attacked, but how did this happen?” 

You opened your mouth to explain what had transpired, but Fred beat you to it. “It doesn’t matter how it happened. It did. Now we deal with the after effects.” 

You had never heard Fred talk with a tone like that before. Everyone knew that Fleur and her family didn’t really get along well with the Weasley family and vice versa. You personally had no problems with her if you didn’t count the rude looks she would give you when you spent time with Bill or when Molly called you her daughter. You had known the Weasley since you were twelve when Charlie asked to bring you home for christmas since you family wasn’t going to be home. You had watched Ginny and Ron grow up, and had a very close bond with the people who you called your family. You had tried to distance yourself from Bill to give him some more time with Fleur since you knew she didn’t like you. That only resulted in a scolding from Molly, a strongly worded letter from Charlie about how he didn’t care if Fleur was Merlin that you, him and Bill had always been incredibly close, and he wasn’t going to let her ruin that just because he wasn’t there, and a incredibly long apology from Bill who apologize for any and everything he possibly could have done wrong. 

The Delocur’s turned their nose up at Fred’s response, and you were positive that Fleur's Mum would have said something else if Molly had not come to retrieve her children so they could see their brother. You remained seated as they disappeared around the corner until Fred came and grabbed your hand stating that Molly meant all her children which earned you yet another glare from Fleur. That was the one thing that you didn’t understand about FLeur. She was Bill’s girlfriend, yet at the time when he needed her most it seemed like her only concern was that you were getting to go back with the rest of the family. But she didn’t even protest. Molly would have let her come had she asked, that was something that you knew for sure. Molly was too kind hearted towards everyone even if she particularly didn’t like you very well. It was just her motherly nature. 

Your heart shattered when you entered the room. Molly was weeping in her husband's arms at the sight of her eldest being so injured. Ginny was holding her eldest brother's hand while George and Fred looked at Bill with broken eyes, but this wasn’t the thing that hurt the most. It was Bill’s face. Scar was running down the length of his left cheek. They were red and puffed up due to them being so fresh. This was something that your best friend was going to  have to deal with for the rest of his life. Bill was in no way vain, except maybe when it came to his hair, but this was not going to be an easy road. You knew from Dora how Remus felt about his scars and were positive that this is how Bill was going to feel as well. Determination set in your mind as you thought of ways to prove to Bill that he was still beautiful even with the scars. You knew that Charlie was also going to be playing a part in this as well. Charlie had plenty of scars from his dragon obsession, but he seemed to have no problem with them often stating that they made him look more “badarse”. 

You took the seat beside Ginny, leaning your head onto her shoulder. None of you spoke for a while all content with watching Bill’s breathing. After about an hour or so Molly stated that Ginny needed to get back to Hogwarts, and Fred and George needed to return to the Burrow as they were falling asleep while leaning against the wall. 

“I’ll stay with him.” Arthur told his wife. “You take the kids back to the Burrow and Gin back to Hogwarts.” 

“I’ll stay. You can go home, Arthur, if you want. I know you had work today, and tomorrow if you’re going in. He’s stable and we are just waiting for him to wake if you want to go home with Molly.” You said quietly. 

“Let (Y/n) stay dear. She’s right. And I’m sure Bill would rather see her pretty face then yours when he wakes anyway.” Molly’s statement made you blush furiously, but Arthur agreed, telling you to contact them if anything changed. After hugs and goodnight where given, you were left alone. You pulled the chair closer to Bill’s bed, holding his hand in yours. The doctors came and told everyone earlier that they had given him the Draught of Peace potion and that he would probably be asleep for a while. You rested your head on the edge of the bed near Bill’s arm. A small smile made its way onto your face when you saw that he was still wearing the braided friendship bracelet you made with Ginny on your third summer at the Burrow. It was one of your fondest memories. You and Ginny had spent hours under the large tree in the backyard making everyone in her family a friendship bracelet. You still had the one that she had made you and you wore it religiously around your ankle. The last thing you saw before sleep over took you was the intertwined fingers of yours and Bill’s hand. 

**********

The feeling of being watched was what woke you. A groan escaped your mouth as you slowly woke up. Something squeezed your hand. Wait not something, someone. You shot up like a rocket when you realized what was going on around you. Bill was watching you, laughing softly at the look of surprise on your face. 

“Bill! You’re awake! How are you feeling? Are you in pain? Do you need anyth-” You started rushing questions out as fast as lightning. 

“Woah there, Dragon.” He winced a little at the pull of the scar on his face. “I’m fine. A little pain, but not bad.” 

Tears sprung in your eyes again. He was fine. He was okay. He was alive. Bill tugged at your hand getting you to sit on the bed so he could hug you. He was comforting you when he was the one laying in the hospital bed. You wrapped your arms gently around the one that he had wrapped around your stomach. Laying your head on his shoulder you cried some more. You cried from relief that he truly was okay. You cried from the fact that it happened in the first place, and that no matter what anyone told you it was your fault. You weren’t sure how long you laid there, but the sound of feet in the doorway made you look up. 

Fleur was standing at the threshold staring at Bill. Just staring, like she had never seen him before. You sat up and removed yourself from the bed. “I’ll give you two some time. I need to owl your parents anyway.” 

Bill looked at you with furrowed brows. Just by the look you could tell that he didn’t understand why his girlfriend of almost a year was looking at him like he grew a second head. But you knew. You knew it was because of the scars that littered his handsome face, obstructing the freckle constellations. To you it didn’t matter that he had those scars. They made him look tougher, more handsome. They didn’t change who he was as a person. He was still going to be the same incredibly caring, kind, adventurous, loving man that you had known for years which was why you didn’t say nor act any different. You could only hope that Fleur felt the same. You gave Bill a small smile before walking past Fleur. Your eyes met for a brief moment, and your heart sunk at the thought that the look of disgust was directed at Bill this time and not you. 

***********

You managed to keep busy enough for an hour so that Bill and Fleur could get some privacy. There was no way in Hell that you were leaving even if Fleur decided to stay with Bill. You had promised Molly and Arthur that you would stay and you were going to. Walking back down to Bill’s room you noticed that the Delocur’s were no longer in the waiting room. Maybe they left when Fleur went back or maybe they were with her. You smiled at the nurses who looked like they could use a break, noticing that when you got outside of Bill’s room the door was open and it was completely silent in there.

 “Bill?” You knocked before entering just in case Fleur was in there, but she wasn’t, and neither was Bill. The adjoining bathroom door was shut signaling that someone was in there, you hoped and prayed that it wasn’t Fleur and Bill having one of their “moments”. You had heard and seen a few too many of those. When the sound you heard emitting from the room was sniffling followed by a soft sob you immediately jiggle the handle. “Bill? Open up. It’s (Y/N).”

“No. Go away, you won’t want to see me anyway.” Bill’s muffled voice came through the door. 

“Won’t want to see you? Of course, I do. You have till the count of three before I open the door whether you are decent or not.” When you didn’t get a response you began to count. “One…….Two………...Three. Alohomora.” 

The door unlocked with a click. You opened the door to find Bill sitting on the floor with tears running down his face looking into a small handheld mirror. His eyes were red and puffy making you wonder how long he had been crying. He looked up at you with a look that made a lump form in your throat and your own tears spring in your eyes. You sat down beside him and pulled him to yourself. His head buried itself in between your shoulder and neck. His tears soaked into your shirt forming a small wet patch. You stroked his hair pulling him impossibly close. 

 “Oh, Billie.” You whispered. “What happened? Where’s Fleur?” 

Another sob wrecked his body, and it took a couple of minutes before he could answer. “S-she l-l-left me……” White, hot fury took over your body. How dare she? At a time when he needed all the support he could get right now, and she left. “Said-said that sh-she couldn’t b-be with some-someone wh-who was covered in sc-scars.” 

You squeezed him just a little bit tighter. Thoughts of ruining that stupid Veela’s face flashed in your mind. She was so inconsiderate. She just left when her boyfriend needed her. Molly was going to throw a fit. She never liked Fleur and now you understood why. All that girl cared about was looks, not about what was on the inside. The sounds of sniffles pulled from your violent thoughts. Bill had gotten rid of any space left between and his breathing seemed more labored then before. You gently pushed him back to see his face, cupping it in one hand you grabbed his other and placed it above your heart so he could feel the beat. “You gotta breathe, Billie. Feel my heart, yeah? Listen to my breathing. In and out. In and out.” 

He started following you breathing. He squeezed your thigh gently letting you know that it was working. You rubbed your thumb against his cheek, wiping the tears that were there. “I need you to listen to me, okay? Squeeze my leg if you’re listening.” 

Once you got his squeeze you started, “I know that you are hurt right now. I know, I get it. But I need you to remember that if Fleur doesn’t want you because you have those three little scars on your face she never deserved you at all. You were handsome before and you are handsome now. Do you wanna know why? Because it is not what defines us on the outside, but the inside. And I have known you for years now and I can tell you without a doubt you are the most beautiful person in and out. You’re so caring towards everyone, not just your friends and family. You are incredibly clever, Hell you're a curse breaker for crying out loud. You alway help anyone you see struggling. You take amazing care of your siblings. And most importantly you love without reserve. And I know this because you are my best friend, and my favorite Weasley, just don't tell Charlie that.” 

By the time you got through your little speech a small smile had etched itself onto his face. You smiled back and placed a small kiss on his now scarred cheek. 

“Thank you.” He whispered into your hair. 

“Don’t thank me for telling the truth. She doesn’t deserve you, Billie. These scars don’t change who you are, nothing ever will.”  

[retiredteabag]

Well Oiled Machine

Pairing: Kirishima X reader

Genre: Angst- friends to...yeah

Word count: ...

Synopsis: After seeing Kirishima, her life long best friend with his new girlfriend, her heart can simply not take it anymore and she finally snaps.

——————————————————————————

Kiri: “Where r u going??”

Kiri: “Hey?”

Kiri: “What the hell just happened?”

Kiri: “Y/n”

One missed call

Kiri: “Y/n!???”

Kiri: “seriously not the time to be ignoring me.”

Kiri: “please pick up y/n”

Kiri: “What even happened? Are you sick? Did you get nauseous? What is going on?”

Y/n reads the text again through teary vision; a hiccup wracks her whole body and she wipes her face with her damp sleeve. Sniffling she types her reply.

Y/n: “Hey!! Yeah I’m good, sorry bout that”

He reads it right away, despite the fact that she had seen his texts for the last hour and a half and didn’t bother marking it unread. Three gray dots bubble for a brief moment then, dreadfully, halt. Something swells within her chest. She places her phone on her dry sink, sees the blurry reflection of herself in the mirror. She normally would never react like this. Her heart just hurt too much right now. With everything going on, seeing Kirishima with a girl who hardly even cares for him just breaks her heart. Struggling to steady her breaths she coughs a few times and aggressively wipes her face again.

Suddenly the silence shatters, loud- her ringtone booms again through the tiny bathroom; the noise bounces around the walls and pierces her head. Taking in a gross sniffle and coughing to clear her throat she answers the incoming call.

“Hey!”- The voices cries between breathless gasps- “You sure you’re good? You left so suddenly …and I’m worried.” Kirishima pants out.

Y/n takes a deep breath to hold in the ever-creeping voice crack, holds her head towards the ceiling, making it sound like she’s yawning, “Yeah,”- she coughs- “we’re all good here! Just a little tired.” 

Her flimsy attempt at sounding honest breaks at the strain in her voice, her façade melting. She can’t help it though, not this time.

Over the years y/n has seen Kirishima with lots of girls, and she has been okay with it, genuinely okay, she knows she’s not gonna confess and it’s pretty clear Kiri doesn’t think of her like that so what was the point anyway. If he was happy with those girls who was she to complain. This was something different though, she was inconsiderate and rude, unkind and pushy, she flirted with other guys and all Kiri would do is smile and brush it off.

“Where are you?” He sounds rushed, she can hear the wind roaring through the receiver, his head wiping in every direction.

“I’m at my dorm. Listen, you don’t have to worry, okay? I’m gonna get some sl- “

Rapid knocks echo from outside her dorm room. She yelps, effectively surprised, her phone falls in her slippery fingers but she catches it.

“Open the door! Please…””

Why, why, whyyyy!!! Gosh why is he here?

“Hey, Kiri...just need some time alone, yeah? I’ll see you tomorrow, sounds good?” Y/n’s heart felt like it just dropped to the bottom most part of her stomach.

“I swear! If you don’t open the door, I will break it!” Exasperated, he hisses- “Come on! I can’t just let you leave like that, you’re my best friend y/n!”

Sincerity is evident in his voice but it still hurt to hear. He’s soft and vulnerable right now but there’s something about his tone that says this is not a request. Sighing loudly, y/n opens the bathroom door. Not before splashing water on her face and dragging herself to the front door. She peeks through the peephole. She sees him clearly, running a hand through his hair, chills run across her. She knows this is so out of character, subconsciously though she knows if she does not comply, something, she doesn’t know what, could go very wrong. It would be the most humiliating thing, if Kirishima Ojiro found out that y/n l/n liked him it might as well be as if the world ended, that would be it for her. They’ve known each other since they were kids, shes seen him grow up, knows what makes him tick, knows how to make him feel better, but the same goes for her, he knows her. And he knows her well enough to know when she’s hurt.

The door cracks and he pushes, hard. She stumbles back some out of shock. There he is, breath ragged and sweaty, his phone still at his ear, then he throws to the ground.

“Oh, thank God! I was so worried!”

And suddenly she’s in a bone crushing hug, she can’t breathe or think, and time is standing still, her mind hurts and her body is exhausted from all the crying, everything is incredibly fuzzy. He’s burning hot and still short from air. She takes a breath and begins to say something, and he snaps.

“No! No, you cannot just- just up and leave without a follow-up, okay? Everyone was so worried! I’m your friend, I need to know whether your okay or not, understood?”

Discomfort sizzles in her chest and makes its way throughout her. She curls her toes and cracks her knuckles at the unwelcome feeling. Her heart still in her stomach she feels like swallowing would make her throw up but she does anyway. Seeing him in this disheveled state makes her feel bad, God knows he shouldn’t go to all this trouble for her. It hurts too much. Kirishima is so incredibly compassionate and sees so much more in people, he never gave up on her no matter how aloof she was, not matter how cold she was to him.

She had foolishly diluted her emotions, traced along the way she wanted people to see them so that all that remained was a burnt-out shell of a human that could hardly remember the person she used to be. Y/n’s life was no longer centered around herself and her but around her fear, she had become a stoic side character with nothing to show for. Too scared to put in the effort to actually find love or get over her feelings. Absolutely petrified by the thought of her feelings changing the friendship she shared, by the idea of losing him even more. Thus, her character was then put to waste and so, she stands, totally helpless. A hug is meant to be comforting but it was the most painful hug y/n’s ever felt, like this was her way of completely sealing away her feelings forever. And that’s all that filled her mind. A newborn coldness acompaning her—surrendering completely, and all the while not a sound escapes her lips. Like always too scared, too scared she’ll cry if she talks, too scared she’ll spill it all, too scared to do anything.

“Thank you- “she finally says, “I’ll tell you next time.”

She lies between her teeth and feels herself becoming standoffish again, just as closed off as before. She lies to him and prays he believes it.

“Promise?” He askes over her shoulder.

“Promise.”

              And he does.

——————————————————————————

Unedited

Why do I only write angst? But like fr this one hurted a bit, a wee bit- I hope you enjoyed though :)

[rocorambles]

Can you please do a hq x reeader where the reader is unable to moan no matter how hard they trt (silent type) and hq growing worried thinking you may not be enjoying or something??!!!! Anyways i really lke your work hehe

So I wasn’t entirely sure whether or not this was a full on request or not, but I decided to go with more short concept responses for this since there are a couple of characters I could imagine in this scenario. Decided to go with Daichi and Iwaizumi since I could see both of them dating a quieter darling. 

Warnings: NSFW

Daichi

Your quieter personality is one of the reasons Daichi is so in love with you. It’s nice to come back home to the comforting tranquility you provide after a chaotic day of chasing criminals, but when the dinner plates are washed and dried and when the two of you settle into your shared bed, your silence becomes slightly unnerving. Daichi isn’t the most experienced lover, but he would like to think he isn’t horrible. He doesn’t think he’s terrible from the way your nipples harden and the way your pussy flutters and drips under his touch and yet, you never let out even a squeak no matter what he does, and when your body convulses and twitches, a tiny part of him wonders if you’re faking your orgasms. 

He comes home in a worse mood than usual one day after a particularly rough day at work and he briskly turns off the stove top as he lifts you up on the kitchen counter and proceeds to kneel below you and eat you out like a starving man. You’re practically drowning his face with your arousal, but he loses any desire to keep on going when he sneaks a peek at your face and sees you biting your lips with your brows furrowed, silent as usual, and hurt fills him wondering if all this time he thought you were into his ministrations, you were really just uncomfortable and in pain. He separates from you and silently wipes his face with a paper towel as you blink in confusion at the sudden halt, but your heart lurches at the pain you see in his eyes when he apologizes to you and you scramble off of the counter and fling yourself at him, holding him tight. And all the words you usually keep inside of you come pouring out as you reassure him that he’s an amazing lover, that you love the sexual intimacy you two share, and that not once have you ever faked a climax. 

You’re still quiet in bed after that, it is your nature after all, but you’re sure to lather your lover with praise afterwards leaving no room for doubt or confusion in your relationship. 

Iwaizumi

Iwaizumi’s had girlfriends before and has hooked up before, so he knows he’s a more than decent lover. But he can feel his confidence slipping a bit every time the two of you sleep together and it’s offensively silent other than the typical lewd wet smacking sounds of sex. It doesn’t help that when he goes to work everyday and shares a locker room with the raucous athletes he trains, one or more of them are always boasting about the people they’ve slept with, commenting on what a screamer their lovers are, boasting how good they are in the sheets. But it all comes to a head one day when he’s video chatting Oikawa and briefly mentions the issue, only for his best friend to screech about how if you’re not making any sounds, it means you’re not enjoying it. 

Determined to make sure you’re thoroughly submerged in pleasure, he pounces on you that night and works your body over more passionately, more intensely, more feral than ever before. And even when your body exhibits the telltale signs of a powerful orgasm, your eyes rolled back, your mouth open in a silent scream, your body squirming and quivering in his arms, he doesn’t let up. He doesn’t stop fucking you and making love to you until you weakly whimper, “Hajime, too much, please stop” and his heart shatters at those words, convinced that you must hate his physical touch and affection. You’re so delirious from the multiple orgasms that you don’t even notice the tense atmosphere until you instinctively reach towards him in your afterglow, desperately seeking the aftercare he’s so good at providing, only to see his back turned towards you and you can’t help the tears and sniffles you let out at being ignored in your vulnerable state. 

Iwaizumi panics at the distressed sounds and immediately turns to you and pulls you tightly into his chest, consoling and soothing you and when your cries finally subside the two of you finally talk and all his self-doubt is aired out as you stare at him in disbelief. You crash your lips against his when his self-deprecating talk continues, effectively shutting him up, and as he stares at you with wide eyes, you fiercely assure him that he’s an incredible lover and really, he should know better than to listen to a word Oikawa says when it comes to you. What would an obnoxiously loud man who doesn’t know when to shut up know about a quieter person like you? Iwaizumi laughs at his foolishness and the two of you promise to talk to each other when things bother you before falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.  

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

I don't think anyone had requested this yet. Can we get Darla x Jo First kiss🥺🥺 Does two needs a route😍😍

Thank you in an advance🥰

They are studying for a test when it suddenly hits Darla that Jo is nothing like a pretty flower. A flower is small, fickle, subject to the wind and the rain and people struck by a sudden desire to pluck them and let them wilt right afterwards.

No, Jo isn’t like that. She’s sweet and gorgeous yet elegant and composed, the kind of beauty that it’s impossible to hold in your arms; Darla looks at her and feels like she’s looking at a faraway star, at all her dreams and hopes. The world’s happiness gleams in Jo’s eyes, and Darla is afraid to stare at them for long for fear that she’ll disappear, nothing but a figment of Darla’s imagination.

A woman like Jo is too perfect to be real. Far too perfect.

“Darla?” Jo asks in that silky soft voice of hers.

“Oh! Yeah?”

“You are spacing out again.”

Jo sounds far from reproachful, a teasing smile dancing on her lips. Darla gives herself a second to admire her - the curve of her shoulders, the deep brown of her eyes, the green and gold and red that she wears so, so wonderfully - and averts her gaze.

“Sorry, I... I guess I’m not on the right headspace today,” Darla says, shrugging slightly, and I’m too distracted because you are right by my side goes unsaid.

“That is okay. I’m not too focused either.”

Darla looks at the notebook filled with notes under Jo’s arm and hums. “Is that so?”

Jo leans slightly forward, smile still in place, to cover the notebook. The movement makes her blazer expose more of her neck, and suddenly Darla forgets how to breathe. The dark-haired girl must know the effect she’s having, surely, because there’s something soft and pleased in her eyes.

“Yes,” the princess says easily. “Perhaps our minds would clear with a walk?”

Darla blinks, surprised when the almost flirty demeanor is still there, and wonders just how lovesick she must be for her imagination to project this so bad.

“P-perhaps.”

“Then let us go. You mentioned the other day you wanted to show me a place to eat?”

The situation screams ‘date’. Darla’s denial screams ‘no way’.

“I did,” she manages to get out. “It’s a very classy place. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

She almost faints when she gets up and Jo slips an arm around Darla’s, movement practiced and smooth and Darla wonders if Jo does this with all of her friends or if she’s a special case, and then smothers the thought because of course she isn’t. How could she ever capture the attention of a star?

“I have something I’d like to say,” Jo says, and Darla almost has to make out her words under the thundering storm of her beating heart.

“I’m listening.”

“You are an amazing person, Darla.”

“Most people would disagree.”

“Not when they see the real you, no.”

Darla bits her lip to avoid confessing only Jo sees this side of her. “Just ask FMC. She’d have a lot to say about it.”

“She did.”

“Wait, you already talked-”

“And,” Jo continues, “I’ve decided that my impression of you is the true one. You are a rose, Darla, you have more than just thorns. Also, you seem happier when you are with me, so I have to ask... do you... do you like me? As more than a friend, I mean.”

Jo averts her gaze more and more throughout the talk, while Darla discovers how it truly feels to have her face on fire, her whole soul caught between her heart and her throat and feeling like it might explode.

“I- well, I-”

There’s a lot to process here. Too many feelings to properly express. Darla has no idea how to even begin to decipher them, let alone to talk about them, but she might as well wing it.

So before Jo gets the wrong idea - and before their bubbly relationship shatters due to a misunderstanding - Darla fumbles to remember how her hands work and shakily brings Jo’s hand to rest it over her heart, cheeks red with shy embarrassment.

“That’s my heart every time I listen to you. E-everytime I look at you. I’m... I’m fairly sure you claimed it for yourself the first time I saw you.”

Jo stares at her, eyes wide with abrupt panic. “Oh! No! I would never steal your heart, I-”

Darla laughs, perhaps too loud. Thank god there are no students nearby. “Figure of speech.”

She didn’t imagine this is how her confession would go. A train wreck had more grace.

“Oh.”

Darla isn’t sure, but she imagines a small blush is slowly making its way over Jo’s cheeks.

“W-well,” Darla starts, acutely aware of Jo’s hand on her chest and its heat and its weight and oh god why is it making her dizzy, how the hell did they make it seem easy and romantic on the movies. Darla needs to salvage the situation and fast. “M-maybe you didn’t claim it. It’s more fair to say I saw you and suddenly my heart decided it was yours. Take it?”

“So you do like me?” Jo asks, softly.

“More than I know how to express.” Since when did she get this sappy? Is this what Jo does to her?

“Okay,” the other girl murmurs, reaching for Darla’s free hand and placing it over her own heart, and it’s incredible how Darla’s whole body freezes at the fast, strong beat of Jo’s heart. “My heart also decided it was yours. T-take it?”

Darla leans in, slightly, wondering when she’ll wake up from this dream. It’s been several minutes and Jo still hasn’t vanished like smoke.

“May I?” She asks, eyes on Jo’s lips.

“Please.”

Their lips met with the promise of hearts under their hands, brief but sweet, and they both shift their position almost in sync. Jo throws both arms around Darla’s neck to pull her closer for another kiss, and Darla manages to react fast enough to rest her hands on Jo’s hips and marvels at how soft and warm she is.

“This is not a dream, is it?” Darla hesitantly asks once they separate for air.

“I hope not,” Jo says. “I’d hate to gather the courage to ask you if you like me again.”

They are outside of the university, near the forest, when it hits Darla that this is all real. And she’s glad it is.

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Sound of Metal

I’ve been looking forward to Sound of Metal since my friend Wes saw it on the (virtual) festival circuit last year and raved about it. He later asked that I review it to guarantee I would watch it, and I’m so incredibly glad I did. The film centers on Ruben (Riz Ahmed), a heavy metal drummer in a band with his girlfriend, Lou (Olivia Cooke). Suddenly, Ruben begins to experience hearing loss - first intermittent, then total. It completely upends his life, and because he is a recovering heroin addict, Lou convinces him to move in to a community of Deaf adults run by a kind man named Joe (Paul Raci, a real life Child of Deaf Adults who has devoted his life to Deaf activism and visibility) so that Ruben can essentially learn how to be Deaf. 

Some thoughts:

I get why the film opens with this very loud, very aggressive live performance, but this band is really, really shitty, and this music is deeply unpleasant.

Obviously sound design is such an integral part of how this movie functions and the muffled effects, the low and high-pitched tones, the lack of sound from objects we’ve seen making sound prior to this, it’s eerie, isolating, and nearly panic-inducing. 

Cochlear implants aren’t covered by insurance? I think I knew that already, but god, that’s just one more reminder of how much this country hates disabled people. [ETA: I’ve done more reading about this and it seems that cochlear implant surgery is often covered IF you have insurance, but in America that’s a big if.] 

I love Olivia Cooke, and she’s fantastic in this, but I’m wildly distracted by her bleached eyebrows. 

There is a very good dog named Louie who is a therapy dog! He is small and sweet and I love him.

To complicate matters, Ruben is a recovering addict and he’s struggling to stay clean due to the overwhelming stress of this situation. Watching him struggle moment to moment at the beginning is agonizing, as you can see how much effort he’s putting in just putting one foot in front of the other.

It’s interesting for me to be a hearing person in this group of Deaf folks who are recovering together. It keeps those of us in the audience who are hearing isolated just the same way Ruben feels isolated. 

There’s so much anger in Ruben, and Riz Ahmed does an incredible job of showcasing all of his vulnerability, his fear, his anger, and his confusion all in a single look. For much of his performance, Ahmed isn’t speaking, but simply looking, trying desperately to understand the new reality he’s living within. 

The small victories we see - Ruben playing with the kids, learning the ASL alphabet, making music again through something as simple as tapping on a metal slide - they all feel so much more powerful because they were hard-earned, because Ruben’s rage is so powerful and his despair was so complete at the beginning of his journey. 

It’s fascinating hearing the cochlear implant and the way sounds are different compared to “normal” hearing. The way music sounds, and the look on Ruben’s face when he realizes it made my heart shatter in two.

How did he get to Paris when he just spent all of his money on this operation?

That final scene reminds me of Call Me By Your Name (maybe the only scene of that film that I actually felt moved by) and that tight close-up on Riz Ahmed’s face is the only way I could imagine this film ending. 

Did I Cry? No, but my heart ached for Ruben in every moment of wide-eyed terror and confusion and desperation conveyed so completely by Riz Ahmed’s beautiful face. 

This film deserved those Oscars for Film Editing and Sound, and my main takeaway from watching it is to be more mindful of all the sounds I hear every day that I take for granted, and more aware of the presence (or lack of) accomodations for the Deaf folks around me. Everyone should see this film not only as a great cinematic experience but as a way to better understand an entire community that so often gets ignored. 

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