#“well we could burn the veins off to manage your pain” im not really in pain though so like....do we REALY need to do that?

[softlyapollo]

good morning i am once again diagnosed with an obscure issue that no one knows the cause of or even really how to effectively treat

[lolita-lollipop]

Hizashi and Aizawa kidnapping a young teenage girl, and her bonding and quickly finding comfort with Hizashi, leaving Aizawa to awkwardly attempt at being super soft and all the more gentle to his sensitive little girl, his heart panging with pain every time she flinches or cowers away from him. “You don’t need to be scared of me, kitten.. please”

your little acts of favoritism weren’t necessarily intentional, you hated both of them. they were your brothers teachers, and whoop dee doo, they kidnapped you. but... you liked hizashi more.

it was just something about him that made you believe he was some form of comfort item, probably because he wasnt brooding, and didnt have a mean face, and he was the first human yud ever seen in this place, that all combined into one and he became your rock, your shoulder to cry on. he was just... so nice, although his quirk was loud, somehow he managed to speak softly with you. it was such a bright contrast to at home where two firey blondes always scream at each other, and your father tries to calm it down.

on your first night ever here, you had tried to jump out the window, and were captured by the thick scarves you once admired, hed lectured you, yelled at yiuu even, all you could see were those red eyes of his, and hear his voice. and he scared you, he scared you so much. i guess it justtranslates to now, first impressions are everything, and to you, he looked like a big scary man who would yell at you.

eventually, you stopped caring about how you hated him, or how you wanted to leave, as you clearly never were. so, instead of glaring at them, or crying, you accepted the fact that he was taking care of you. hizashi, hizashi was taking care of you... aizawa though? no way in hell, he was just so... you'd never seen him with a smile, he never tried to talk to you, he just kinda watched you, and it freaked you out, at some point you started believing he was trying to kill you, don't even ask how you came up with that conclusion.

you just couldn't manage to warm up to hi as you'd done so quickly with hizashi, and it showed. you were always tense when alone with him, like he was going to jump out at you any second and stab you, you didnt talk to him , sometimes you felt so anxious around him that you would outright start crying, shaking in some form of fear, or hide yourself under a blanket. although hizashi was proud that you loved him so much, he knew that this was hurting his husband, that his own little girl was scared of him.

so he would always try to coax you into doing things with him, saying things like "can your papa come and help" or "how about we have papa do this with you while I make lunch?", just trying to get him included so you would feel just as comfortable around him as you were with his own self. Sometimes he just left the room to let you have alone time with him. He’d even lectured his husband about how he always looked angry, and that he has to smile form time to time, and not the creepy “I’m gonna kill a villain” smile.

And so Aizawa started trying, not trying to be like hizashi, even that was too much for him, but trying to be nicer, he was a gentle person when he wanted to be, so this came with ease for him, he would tuck you in at night, read you stories, hold you if you cried, feed you, help you bathe (which you usually liked hizashi to do, and in general, inserted himself as a gentle roger in your life. You would expect taht this would work, that because he was so nice to you, because he was so sweet like hizashi, you would accept him as your father.

But nope! Again, first impressions are everything to you, and now, he was written off as the villain of you story, now, you jsut ran off to papa whenever he was around, and didn’t even give him the chance to hang around you, it just made it worse honestly, because now, not only did he look scary, but he also looked fake, which is never good. Every time he would try to if you, you would clutch onto hizashi for dear life, acting like his hand would do nothing but burn you.

Tears would cloud your vision, and he would pulle back, not wanting to cause you any more pain, and jsut stare in. Pure jealousy at his husband, who cooed and gave you a hug.and guess what? You hugged him back, and hid yourself in his chest, willingly, without a fight, without a tear, instead with a smile, most of the times mic wouldn’t interfere, wbatigg ns this to everyone a safe space for you, a place where you should naturally do things, but sometimes, he would give you little bushes int he right direction. Like disappearing completely for my he house so you’ll be forced to talk to Aizawa.

This is one of those times.

Yo been wandering the house for about ten minutes now, waking up form a nap, to find mic absent from his usual place in the rocking chair at your bedside. It was a little after lunchtime, and they’d only given you a small cup of fruit for breakfast (intentional, from mic), you were fairly hungry, and usually he was there to give you food, but you had no idea where he was, you had heard the… other one on the phone in their shared office, but you did not want to talk to him right now.

Aizawa could tell you were awake by the fact that all of the cats were meowing like crazy, and little pattering footsteps had followed his hearing around, mic had left abruptly, probably some little plan of mischief again, he was hizashi after all. He was just waiting for you to either 1: go back to bed, or 2: come to him for help. Mic had specifically told him to follow these rules for after nap time, so he did. And grew progressively more worried as over twenty minutes, trying to read through his students grading work, too distracted by the urge to go find you to accomplish anything.

His worries dissipated though when he saw your little head poking through the door, cat in hand, confused and tired looking, small tears beginning to prick th corners of your eyes, little sniffling sounds left you. His wha specked up form the desk, you’d given up walking around the whole house, your restarting had slowly pent up, you couldn’t manage to find him, and you were so hungry.

“Oh- hey honey, I didn’t know you were up. Do you need something?” He questioned, smiling intently at you, you just inched back into the door frame, breathing heavier by the moment, your hands shook and your head felt like it was going to explode at any point. Youbcontenoajted runnign back to your room and waiting till mic came out where you could hear him, but your stomach grumbled, reminding you how hungry you really are.

“I’m- im looking for daddy. Where is he.” You spoke, a very hushed tone overtook your words, making them almost inaudible for him. His face sunk slowly, he tougher you were actually gonna come for him, but the he remembered taht patience is key, and that he shouldn’t get mad, because it is t your fault taht you’re just a little sensitive, too fragile to handle more than one attachment, he gets it. He jsut at least wanted you to look at him, instead did your little feet, I’m Ayer if you could meet his eyes the. You would see how much he loves you.

“Oh, he left a. Little while ago. Is there something you need from him? Your papa can give him a call if you want, you could even talk to him!” He exclaimed excitedly, plastering that happy smile across his face to seem more inviting, liek mic had told him to do. He stood out of his chair, rounding up the papers and putting them in his file folders.you tried to sink back furthers, almost disappearing behind the doorway, you shook your head aggressively, almost running off, then yet again, your stomach made another noise, and forced you to stay.

“I- no. I’m- im hungry-“ you spluttered, not caring if it was embarrassing that you were stuttering so much, you just wanted food. And calling mic would just get you a lecture on how you could’ve just asked your papa, the same thing would happen whenever you went to uncnecesary lengths to avoid the man, your daddy would make sure you knew that it made him feel bad, while you’d at there bored. Not caring, at all.

“Oh- well you should’ve told me sooner kitten, if I’d known I would be up already. Cmon, let’s go to the kitchen, your daddy made you some food earlier” he spoke, rising from his chair slowly, you cowered slightly as he walked over, clutching the little kitten right to you for comfort, he mewed and snuggled closer, completely asleep. The man sighed when he saw you backing away from his grasp, he knew you were still scared. But he was just so impatient… he was tired of waiting, he wanted to hold you, even if it was jsut foena few minutes. He needed it feel you there with him.

Is he acted quickly, moving in a matter of seconds, he swooped his arm under your leg, and hooked his other around your torso, pulling you straight up into his grasp. Youu huh froze, his hands felt cold as ice on your skin, like they were burning you, immediately after he started walking, it snapped you out of it and you threw a fit. You dig your fingernails into his skin, and kicked and flailed in a panic, still trying to keep the little kitten in your lap safe. A full blown panic washed over you, clogging all your senses.

The dam holding back tears form your eyes crashed, and immediately you were sobbing, biting at his shoulder to let you go, he tried to rub your back to calm you down a bit, but just made it worse, as his hands felt like living anxiety creeping up and down your spine. He didn’t know what to do, let you ride it out, andkk no possibly have you get sick because of how much your crying in an empty stomach? Or let you down and go straight back to square one.

Your veined felt like pure ice had flooded in them, and it felt liek someone was repeatedly jabbing you in the head with tiny needes, fear was jsut so prominent in your sense, it overcame you, and made you whimper and scream.

“Whoah, breath for me alright? I just want to hold you. I’m not going to hurt you okay? I would never hurt you. Kitten… you don’t have to be scared of me” he spoke, trying to keep a proper computers, he wanted to cry with you, he wasn’t a very soft or emotional man but honestly, he was so upset with himself already, this was jsut pushing him for the edge. You cried, and cried, at some point you weren’t even crying and screaming at him, more with him. He held you close, you’d stopped the struggle almost five minutes ago, letting him hold you. It was odd. It almost felt… nice.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m being stupid again” You alien through your remaining little hiccups, shove my your face into his shirt, smelling the woody scent he carried around with him. He cooed, letting you hide yourself from him, savouring this soft moment was of top priorirty in his head… you jsut looked so sweet, so different from those harsh cries that would sound usually whenever he came around.

Who would think, shouts aizawas hand couldn’t feel nice? The same ones that had just been burning you, the ones that made you scream, felt like a breeze on a spring day, he actually felt warm, he felt like happiness, like contentment.

“No hon, it’s not stupid. Your scared. I know that, we all get scared and it’s not a bad thing, I love you, I really, really love you kitten. Just know that” he continued on with his little speech, leaving down to kiss you in the forehead, Jsut to be suprised when you didn’t flinfh, you were too tired to be scared; and too hungry, plus, he was really warm, the cat had pretty much snuggled up to him already, who says you shouldn’t.

“I- um- I love you… to?” You spoke, more of a question than anything, you’d spent so long Harding him that you didn’t know if you even could love him, it didn’t even feel possible, then again, you litterally cling to hizashi like a koala, and your mental state has relaly said “swoopity swoop” and scattered itself everywhere. Maybe having two comfort items was actually better than one… huh.

“Well, let’s go eat then. All taht crying probably made you tired, I’ll let you watch a movie in my office, you can watch pinto again, I know you love taht one. Cmon, let’s go” he spoke, and started walking again, you cuddled closer to him as he did, smiling slightly at the warmth. Hizashi was very extravagant, exiting, and hyper, this man felt very cool, calm, it was such a dark contrast, but it worked so well. You jsut… you Jsut liked it.

Well… now we’ll just have to wait and see who’s the favorite

———————————————————————————————————

Thank you for requesting! It was super fun to write and had me feeling super happy when I finished :)

I’m thinking about doing yandere todoroki family asks, because I’m litterally in love with @i-cant-sing one… so, requests are open for those if you want to put them in (please do I’m begging)

Anywho, have the most wonderful to days today! Goodbye!

[endlessymphony]

Hi congrats on 50 Followers !!!!

🧸 : James Potter x reader where he spends a lot of time with the marauders and kinda ignores the reader and forgets their anniversary. So they get into a big argument and James says something mean about her being a muggle born.

Happy ending please 😁

Thank you 🙏

thank you so much lovely anon!

apologies.

pairing - james potter x reader

summary - james forgot your two year anniversary and left you waiting all day, just to come to your dorm and end up starting an argument

warnings - arguments, a bit of prejudice against muggles/muggle-borns, cussing

a/n - im really glad you guys like my james potter fics lol

you awoke, a rush of adrenaline and giddiness taking over as you practically shot yourself out of bed, almost tripping over the blankets you shoved onto the floor. you rushed over to the calendar hanging on the back of your door, bare feet pitter pattering on the hardwood floor, and yes! today was the day! the hearts circled in pen around the date only confirming your excitement.

your two year anniversary with the one and only james potter. your heart pounding a million miles a minute- feeling it ought to beat right out your chest. below the heart was written ‘surprise date’ in his handwriting, as he insisted that he could handle planning this date on his own. he was wrong, although you weren’t aware of that quite yet.

you spun yourself in a circle, making small noises of glee as you tossed yourself back onto your bed, thinking of what james might be up to. “oh merlin, i need to get ready.” you gasped, sitting back up and rushing over to your wardrobe.

it took an hour to find an outfit that you deemed ‘perfect’, settling on a top that you knew james loved. you spent another thirty minutes on hair and makeup, overjoyed to be spending the day with your beloved.

the waiting game began.

at first it was difficult to wait for him, adrenaline still rushing through your veins- body running off of pure excitement.

an hour passed, then two... then five, and soon it was much darker outside, the sun starting to set.

‘maybe he’s held up grabbing flowers, or making dinner reservations’ you thought, trying to push away the anxiety that was slowly creeping in to replace the high that you were feeling before. ‘oh! maybe we’re doing a night under the stars, how gorgeous would that be’

so, you continued to wait

but he never showed.

james finally came stumbling in to your dorm room at half-passed twelve, chuckling at the sight in front of him. you were wrapped up in a blanket, laying in your bed so that your back faced the door, hiding your hurt expression from him.

“hey, love.” he crooned as he walked over and sat down beside you on the bed, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “the boys and i had a great day today, you won’t believe what we got up to!”

you slowly sat up, turning to look at him. tear stains on full display, mascara making them all-the-more obvious. james let out a small gasp, hand moving to cup your face. “oh no, what’s wrong? did something happen?” he gently smoothed his thumb over your cheek.

you pulled yourself away from his touch, throwing the blanket off like you had done this morning, but a different feeling had taken over by this point. anger. disappointment. hurt.

you dragged him by the arm and pointed to the date on your calendar, tapping the paper with your pointer finger a few times so he would get the gist. “what are you trying to tell me, y/n?” he asked, cocking his head to the side, trying to play the dumb card.

“you missed our anniversary, james. it’s been two years.” you felt defeated, like every ounce of life had been drained out of your body, and you were now an empty shell. “i waited for you” you began, “all day.”

“it’s not that big of a deal, let’s just do something this weekend instead.” he offered, a smile making its way to his face.

god- you wanted to punch that stupid fucking smile off his face.

“not that big of a deal, james? you left me hanging. ALL DAY i waited.” you were starting to get angry, your voice starting to waver as it raised in decibels. “you knew how much this meant to me! or so i thought you did, but lately, it’s like everyone else is MUCH more important than i am.” your hands balled into fists, brows furrowing slightly as you started to let him have it.

“and don’t you fucking dare say this isn’t a big deal, james potter.” you spat, voice like venom as your said his name. “you really let me down, you really fucking blew it this time, i am really fucking upset about this.”

“i should’ve known that muggles overreact over everything.” he muttered to himself, brows practically knitted together as he ran a hand through his hair. his eyes widened as soon as he said that, opening his mouth to apologize to you.

“you know what james, just fucking leave, just get out.” your lip started to quiver, eyes threatening to spill hot tears down your face all over again, you wanted to hold your composure in front of him. your heart felt as if it had completely shattered in your chest. “really? you really want me to leave?” it was his turn to feel defeated, face started to relax from its scrunched up state.

“yeah, i do. now get the fuck out.”

james looked as if he had his tail between his legs, shoulders slumping down as his whole body started to deflate in defeat. embarrassment. shame. “okay.” his voice was small, this version of him was completely different from the ‘regular’ james that you knew and loved. he walked out, turning to look at you, but you just slammed the door in his face.

you cast a quick silencing charm before you began to scream-sob. tears feeling as if they’re burning your skin- falling to your knees as you let the waves of heartbreak, pain, and anger completely take you over. you cried until you couldn’t anymore, head pounding and eyes starting to get puffy and red. you screamed until you couldn’t any longer, voice hoarse and throat feeling as if it were on fire.

you sobbed still, silently, nothing coming out as you had nothing left to give. “thanks james, thanks for making me feel so loved... so appreciated.” your voice was broken, cracking with every word. you laid on the floor, wishing that it would swallow you up, so you could disappear and never have to feel a thing.

you ended up falling asleep, the whole day taking it’s toll on you. you had nothing more to give, no more fight left in you.

james knocked on your door lightly, afraid that you were about to tear his head off the moment that he stepped inside your dorm. “y/n?” he asked, tone merely above a whisper as he slowly opened the door and stepped in. james closed the door gently, eyes finally falling on your figure laying on the floor.

he felt a pang of pain shoot through his heart. “i caused this.” he mumbled, taking a few slow steps towards you and sitting down. he felt tears welling in his eyes, a few managing to slide down his face as he looked at you. james felt nothing but remorse and disappointment for how things went earlier. he had completely forgotten about the anniversary- what a dick move.

your eyes flickered open, vision slightly out of focus as you try to figure out who’s figure is in front of you. low and behold it was james, crying, mumbling about how he knows he fucked up- and it’s eating him up inside, and about how much he loves you.

you began to sit up, blinking a few times to wave the sleep from your eyes. “james?” you asked, voice still torn up. his head shot up, trying to wipe away the tears with his hands. “hey.”

“what are you doing here?” you asked, “sh. don’t talk, you’ll blow your voice out.” james replied. “i wanted to come back and apologize to you. i feel awful about earlier, and i know how much i hurt you with my actions, especially with my comment about muggles.” he gently cupped your face again, “i didn’t mean it, i promise. i really didn’t mean it.” he sniffled, trying to keep the tears away, but despite his efforts- they returned. “i really love you. god, i’m a shitty fucking boyfriend, aren’t i?” james chuckled, trying to ignore the tears now steaming down his face.

“james.” you started, “no, y/n, i need to make it up to you for how terrible today was. i need to show you that you’re loved, and make you feel important and special, and like the only person in the world.” he started to trip over his words, talking fast out of nervousness, he didn’t want you to kick him out again.

“can we talk about it more later?” you finally managed to ask, “yeah. yeah, sure. definitely. you can sleep in tomorrow and i’ll go and get you some breakfast, does that sound alright?” he was rambling again, trying to ‘fix’ everything. you nodded, a small smile beginning to grace your lips.

“now let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” he stood up and offered a hand to you. “we have time for apologies tomorrow.” you took his hand hesitatingly, slowly standing up, legs a bit wobbly.

james walked you to your bathroom, grabbing you by the waist and sitting you up on the counter. he began to lightly hum to himself as he pulled out a bottle of makeup remover and some cotton rounds, pouring some of the liquid onto the round and gently starting to clean the makeup off your face. he washed your face and brushed your hair for you after, as well.

he helped you change into your pyjamas, and placed you into bed, picking up the blankets off the floor and placing them back on the bed- tucking you in. he leaned in and kissed your head before stripping down to just his t-shirt and boxers, placing his glasses on the nightstand, and climbing into bed beside you.

he spent the rest of the night whispering compliments to you, telling you how much he loves you and wants to be with you forever, and there was no shortage of apologies said. james held you to his chest, playing with your hair until the both of you eventually drifted off to sleep.

[ayanna-wild]

Devil Don't Go

Word Count: 1679

Pairings: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Warnings: angst, violence, sad fluff, fluff, mentions of drowning, near death experiences

A/N: Request from Wattpad

Summary: This case should have been open and shut, it wasn’t supposed to go this way.

..................................................................................

Your world was spinning, well more accurately you were spinning, in a chair at the LAPD. To be even more accurate Lucifer was spinning you. The case you had agreed to help Chloe with had hit a snag, and every lead you thought you had was coming up a dead end. Which is why you were sitting in a chair, letting your devilish companion lazily twirl you around.

"I still say the manager of the victim's store seemed rather suspicious, are you sure we can't question him again?"

You hung your head back staring at the ceiling, thankful he wasn't spinning you fast enough to make you dizzy.

"He lawyered up, besides he had an alibi."

Lucifer huffed, clearly bored with how slow this case was moving.

"Oh yes, he was with his lover, was it? People lie darling."

You shrugged, placing your feet on the ground to stop yourself from spinning as you turned to look at him. Lucifer smiled when your eyes landed on him, and the corners of your mouth twitched up.

You and Lucifer had grown close since your transfer to the LAPD, and you found yourself helping Chloe on cases she could have solved easily herself. If she noticed she hadn't said a thing, you suspected it was Lucifer who convinced her to ask for your assistance.

This case however, they really did need help on.

"Why do you think they're lying?"

"He barely remembered their name, and his so called significant other, took far to long to recall him." Lucifer reasoned.

You frowned a little, unable to refute his logic, you leaned back in the chair.

"Well...you're right..."

"Of course I am, now put your feet back up, unfortunately this is the most interesting thing I've done today."

Before the two of you could continue your pointless entertainment, Chloe rushed over to her desk, grabbing her car keys. Both you and Lucifer perked up.

"What's got you in such a rush Detective?"

"Ella found us a lead, it might not pan out, but we should still check into it."

You jumped to your feet, grabbing your own keys from Lucifer's hand, who'd been carelessly tossing them back and forth with you earlier.

"I'll follow you."

"Allow me to accompany you." Lucifer beamed.

You raised an eyebrow as you headed for the exit.

"I don't let him press the buttons." Chloe explained.

After the fourth or fifth time of him turning on the siren to frighten unsuspecting civilians you forbade him touching anything as well. He muttered under his breath the rest of the drive.

~

You'd never understood the appeal decrepit buildings had in the criminal world of LA, but here you were.

"Couldn't they ever choose a nice little café, or someplace not run by rats?" You mumbled to yourself, stepping over what you hoped was an oil stain.

Leaky pipes and moldy smells filled the air as you careful walked along the walls, gun ready and senses on high alert. Your suspect, who had in fact turned out to be the manager, had opened fire as soon as the three of you walked through the door. It forced you away from Chloe and Lucifer, who you were now trying to find.

The platform you were walking on creaked behind you, and you whirled around, gun raised. Chloe froze, raising her hands, and you let out a sigh.

"Find anything?"

She shook her head, and you placed your gun back in its holster.

"Where's Lucifer?"

Her question chilled you to the core, and you stared at her in confusion. Your voice caught as you spoke.

"I thought he was with you..."

~

You refused to leave your desk, or even take any breaks as you searched through file after file. Called anyone even remotely related to your suspect. Lucifer had been with Chloe, he'd been vulnerable, he could be hurt, or worse.

You shook your head, that line of thinking wasn't going to do anything but make you panic.

A heavy, frustrated sigh left your lips, and you leaned forward, resting your head in your hands on the desk in front of you. Your eyes strained from hours of reading.

"I found something!"

You whipped your head around so fast it almost hurt your neck. Ella ran in, waving a paper around wildly. You and Chloe quickly crowded her and Ella explained everything.

"Okay, so I called around, you know places he frequents, old jobs things like that. There's an old swim center he used to run, a few workers there say he still comes by after hours to do laps."

"What does this have to do with finding Lucifer?" Chloe asked.

"Well I just off the phone with an employee who works there. Mr. Manager man is there now."

~

You couldn't drive fast enough, flying through red lights and recklessly taking turns. Chloe held onto the dash, shouting out warnings now and then, but she never told you to slow down. She was just as eager as you to find the king of hell.

"Y/N! We need a plan!"

You almost forgot to put the car into park before you got out. Chloe followed after you, calling for you to slow down, but you ignored her. The doors to the pool slammed open when you kicked them, smacking the wall just in time to see the murderous manager shove Lucifer, who was unconscious and tied to a chair, into the pool.

You screamed his name, dropping your gun as you dived into the pool without a second thought. You spotted Chloe running after the suspect just seconds before you hit the water.

The pool was so deep, and the chlorine burned your eyes as you swam towards Lucifer. You didn't know how you were holding your breath this long, but you weren’t really focusing on that. You struggled to untie the ropes around him, but your lungs were beginning to burn.

He's been down there for too long already, you were down there too long, your head growing light.

With no other choice but to surface, you took a large breath before diving under the water again. It wasn't enough time to really catch your breath and your chest tightened, but you finally loosened the ropes. You thanked the adrenaline rushing through your veins that you were able to pull him to the surface and out of the pool.

Violent coughs shook your body as you struggled to breathe again. You were light-headed, but you needed to focus, you had to check on him. Turning your attention to Lucifer you rolled him onto his back checking the injury to his bloody temple, it was sallow nothing to serious, and then you checked his pulse.

Only... there was no pulse.

"No no no...."

You got to your knees, placing your hands in the center of his chest as you began to push fast. You went back and forth between pressing on his chest to blowing breath into his lungs. You weren’t sure how long you kept this up, but you really didn't care to keep track of time right now.

"Come on...Lucifer, please..."

Tears clouded your vision and your arms gave out, you collapsed against his chest, checking his pulse once more, but there was nothing.

"Damn it wake up!" You slammed your fists down on his chest. Your tears ran down your face mixing with the pool water still clinging to your skin, but he didn’t move.

"You promised we'd go out for lunch tomorrow, and you always keep your promises, right?"

You brushed his wet hair from his face as your hands shook.

"So you have to wake up." Your voice broke, and you pressed your forehead against his, crying freely.

"Please don't go."

You almost slammed your head against his when his body suddenly jerked, and he sat up. You jumped back staring at him with wide eyes as he coughed out water from his lungs. He wheezed a moment clutching his chest, before looking around until his eyes landed on you. He gave you a tired smile and a weak chuckle.

"Well that was a wonderfully terrible visit to Hell."

With that joke your worry evaporated, and you fell back against the wall behind you. You ran a hair through your damp hair, and you laughed through your tears.

"You're alive..."

Lucifer looked at you curiously, and he moved closer to you.

"Darling are you alright? Why are you crying?"

He let out a surprised grunt when you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You were dead you idiot, of course I'm crying."

"But I'm not dead now..."

You huffed, shaking your head as you tightened your hold around him.

"You're missing the point." You spoke lightly.

Lucifer carefully held you, frowning a little when he felt your body trembling.

"You're shaking." He pointed out softly.

"Just cold from the water." You lied.

You smiled, nestling closer to him, you needed to feel his heartbeat his breath on your skin. You pulled back to hold his face in your hands, eyeing the cut on his temple.

"You're bleeding a little still..." You muttered.

He grabbed your hand as your fingers ghosted over the wound. He smiled squeezing your hand a little.

"I imagine my situation would be much worse if not for you."

He smiled, and you slowly realized you were sitting in his lap. You cleared your throat, shifting to move off him, and he sent you a wink.

"Anyway, I'm really happy you're okay."

Lucifer's expression softened, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Well I couldn't very well stay dead now could I? A promise is a promise."

You looked at him surprised.

"You heard that?"

He chuckled, moving a wet strand of hair away from your eyes.

"It was hard not to, you were practically praying to me."

You rolled your eyes, but you still couldn't help the smile that stretched across your face.

"Just promise you won't go dying on me again."

"I'll try my very best darling." He chuckled.

..................................................................................

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[cicada-bones]

The Warrior and the Wildfire

Chapter 8: A Golden Afternoon

Its the middle of the night - so Im definitely going to post this again in the morning - but here you go! thanks for the nice words I really appreciate it ❤︎

word count: 4120

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Barely five minutes had passed before Lysandra was sauntering down the stairs, arms now empty and her gaze lazily sweeping over Rowan’s bare chest. Her eyes burned with intent, but he knew she was cataloguing him, marking the strength, height, weapons in his hands – the gaze of a spy. And Rowan couldn’t help but wonder if she really was just spying for Aelin. With those wildcat eyes…who else would she be serving but herself? Was there a chance she might betray them?

Rowan could practically feel Aedion’s eyes on him from behind, his scent burning with jealousy. Rowan had to keep his own eyes from rolling.

Lysandra shot Rowan a wry smile as she passed them, and Rowan caught a whiff of her scent on the breeze. It was strange, almost…layered. He couldn’t quite figure it out, and before he could get a full breath, Lysandra had wrenched the rolling door open and left the warehouse, pulling it shut behind her.

Then Aelin appeared on the stairs, a pile of garments in her arms. “These are for you,” she to Rowan. “Looks like I owe Nesryn a favor, she asked Lysandra to bring them this morning.”

Aelin continued as Rowan started up the stairs to take the clothes off her hands. “She also brought news. Arobynn received a report last night that two prison wagons were spotted heading south to Morath – chock full of all those missing people. We need to send for Chaol.”

Aedion nodded, already heading out the door, while Rowan continued into the apartment to see if the new clothes would fit. When he passed Aelin, she smirked at him.

So that’s a no on the fit. Rowan held in a sigh. Knowing Aelin, she’d put him in tight clothing on purpose.

···

To Rowan’s relief, the clothes hadn’t been all that tight. The pants were loose enough that they no longer restricted his movement, even if they were nearly four inches too short at the ankle. But Aelin had still given him an overly-pleased once over when his back was turned. She was spending too much time with Lysandra.

By late morning, Chaol was standing in the middle of the clearing, his eyes fixed on the map between his fingers. His steel, cotton, and birchwood-flavored scent was exactly as Rowan remembered from when he’d first tasted it in Aelin’s blood all those months ago, in that reckless first bite.

The memory alone was enough for ice to crack through Rowan’s veins, freezing his expression in place. This man had been responsible for sending Aelin across the sea, with no warning and no protection, right into the arms of his former queen. Who had been responsible for the broken heart she had arrived with. And then, when she returned here, he had the impudence to tell her that it was her fault he had failed to protect his King. That it was her fault her cousin had ended up in prison and Dorian the walking dead.

Rowan wanted to rip his face off with his teeth.

But instead, Rowan just stood guard by the door. Keeping his eyes locked on the former captain of the guard.

The man was of slightly higher than average stature, with brown eyes and hair, and hardened features. He held his broad shoulders straight back, his spine rigid, but his limbs were unsettled. He couldn’t stop shifting in place, discomforted.

Rowan suppressed another grin.

The man’s eyes also kept shifting to Aelin, and as he moved in place yet again, Rowan caught the slightest hint of jasmine and flame in his scent – Aelin.

Even though he couldn’t detect even a trace of the captain’s scent on Aelin anymore, the captain was still holding on to her. Still carrying her scent. Fury bubbled in Rowan’s gut.

Despite the vile words he’d hurled at her, the captain still wanted Aelin, and now that Rowan was looking for it, he could see the pain from her rejection written all over him.

Rowan almost regretted being polite to the man. But he knew Aelin would be rightfully furious with him if he attacked Chaol when their alliance was already so fragile. So he stuck to the door.

But that didn’t mean Aelin didn’t notice his icy stare, nor the captain’s discomfort. Her eyes glinted. “You know, he won’t bite,” she crooned.

Chaol leveled a stare at her. “Can you just explain what these maps are for?”

“Anything you, Ress, or Brullo can fill in regarding these gaps in the castle defenses would be appreciated,” she said.

His lips pursed as he folded up the map, tucking it into the inner pocket of his tunic. “For you to bring down the clock tower?”

“Maybe,” Aelin said flatly.

Chaol bristled. He was still obviously avoiding Rowan’s gaze. “I haven’t heard from Ress or Brullo for a few days,” he said tersely. “I’ll make contact soon.”

Aelin just nodded, pulling out a second map – this one of the sewer network. She weighed it down on the table with two of the daggers hidden up her sleeves.

Chaol shot her a disapproving look that made Rowan want to snarl.

Aelin ignored them. “Arobynn learned that the missing prisoners were taken to Morath last night. Did you know?”

Chaol tensed. “No.”

“They can’t have gotten far. You could gather a team and ambush the wagons.”

“I know I could.”

“Are you going to?”

He laid a hand on the map, his face darkening. If Rowan didn’t know any better, he might have felt sympathetic. The man was obviously in pain.

His words were low, but hard. “Did you bring me here to prove a point about my uselessness?”

Aelin straightened. Rowan leaned forwards slightly, readying himself. Aelin spoke, choosing her words very carefully, “I asked you to come because I thought it would be helpful for the both of us. We’re both – we’re both under a fair amount of pressure these days.”

“When do you make your move?” the captain asked, his eyes roving over the map.

“Soon.”

Another purse of the lips. Apparently, he didn’t like her non-answers. “Anything else I should know?”

“I’d start avoiding the sewers. It’s your death warrant if you don’t.”

“There are people trapped down there—we’ve found the nests, but no sign of the prisoners. I won’t abandon them.”

“That’s all well and good,” Aelin said calmly, even as Chaol slammed his teeth together, “but there are worse things than Valg grunts patrolling the sewers, and I bet they won’t turn a blind eye to anyone in their territory. I would weigh the risks if I were you.”

The captain was angry, but he kept silent as Aelin combed her fingers through her hair and asked, “So are you going to ambush the prison wagons?”

“Of course I am.”

Rowan couldn’t doubt the sincerity there, and it seemed Aelin couldn’t either. Her eyes softened in concern, her scent flickering. And Rowan knew that there was still some affection left for the old captain of the guard. But how much?

Aelin sighed softly. Then said, “They use warded locks on the wagons. And the doors are reinforced with iron. Bring the right tools.”

It was Rowan’s turn to clench his jaw. Aelin would know, she had spent weeks in one. Chained up and in the dark. On her way to slavery.

It took all of his self control to remain still and standing.

The captain straightened up, making to leave.

“Tell Faliq that Prince Rowan says thank you for the clothes,” Aelin said. And even though confusion passed over Chaol’s face, he nodded his agreement. Rowan stepped aside with a murmur of farewell as the captain stepped into the bright sunlight of the golden afternoon.

···

To his great surprise, Aelin told him that there wasn’t anything pressing they needed to take care of that day, so instead, she spent the time showing him her city.

She took him through the slums, keeping to the shadows whenever possible, and they walked all the way through the capital to the elegant residential districts and the busy markets squares, now crammed with vendors selling goods for the summer solstice in two weeks.

She talked all the while, pointing out paths and walkways, busy intersections and guard postings, along with all those little details that made this place her home, the good and the bad. And so much of it seemed to be connected to Sam.

Places they had walked together, ate together, laughed together – where they had grown up. She even pointed out the place Sam had rescued her from the sewers when she had been kidnapped and nearly drowned.

The cobbles were warm with the afternoon sunlight, and despite the darkness of the Valg guards, the pair of them walked through the city as if belonged to them. As if the streets and buildings were but a carpet unrolled before their feet.

“The man who runs that store always used to give me free tarts.”

“That dressmaker was my favorite, she always knew exactly how to alter a garment to suit you perfectly.”

“I had dance lessons here for years, the instructor is an amazing woman, you would have loved her. She let me play her piano, even if my back was never straight enough for her. She helped me rescue Aedion.”

They even spent almost half an hour in an old music repair shop, wandering among the aisles of old instruments and piles of music sheets. Even if, in Rowan’s opinion, no piece of music could be more beautiful than the sound of her laugh as he nearly tripped over some twisted pieces of metal she told him belonged to a broken brass horn.

Aelin also took him to one of Nesryn’s family bakeries, where she tried force him to eat some of a pear tart, no matter how many times he told her that it smelled sickly sweet to him. 

At the docks however, Rowan actually managed to convince Aelin to try some pan-fried trout. She cringed and swore at first, but once she’d tried it, she finished her fish in record time and soon was trying to sneak bites of his. Rowan snarled at her, but he couldn’t keep his lips from twitching into a smile.

After their late lunch, they sat at the edge of the docks and cooled by the water. They were mostly silent, instead listening to the sounds of the shipyards, seabirds and waves.

Rowan found that his thoughts kept sliding to Sam. He’d been just a boy when he died, barely eighteen. They’d had so little time together. And before Aelin had gotten a chance to deal with his death, she had been sold into slavery.

Rowan tried to find the words to ask her about Sam, about how she felt for him, but before he could, the sound of a whip cracked through their pleasant silence.

Aelin met his eyes, her face grave. Soundlessly, they stood and walked away from the water and back to the shore, where they watched as a cluster of chained slaves hauled cargo onto one of the ships. People who, no doubt, were captured and enslaved because of their opposition to Adarlanian rule. Rebels in chains, allies of Terrasen and its queen.

They watched, and could to nothing.

A cold, endless fury burned in Aelin’s eyes; a fury that made him want to call a storm of ice and wind so strong it would turn the shipyards to rubble, the slavers with them. But he couldn’t, and not only because his magic was locked inside his body. Instead they just stared. And swore to themselves that soon, perhaps very soon, those slaves would be freed.

He and Aelin wandered away, back through the market stalls from which they came, though now the silence between them felt heavy with darkness.

Now the wooden paths were full of the scent of roses and wild lilies, the ocean breeze sweeping petals of every shape and color past their feet as the flower girls shouted about their wares. Husbands leaned over bouquets to bring home to their wives, bachelors picked out arrangements for their intended, while girls giggled over daisies and shot the boys looks from beneath their lashes when they thought no one was watching.

Rowan stopped in his tracks. The smell, the laughter, the color – it was all so familiar that it made his heart wrench in two.

There was a woman across from them in the center of the square, a basket of hothouse peonies on her thin arm. She was young, pretty, and dark-haired, and her eyes sparkled with something hidden – twin to his mate of two centuries earlier.

Memories began flashing behind his eyes – a mountain home in smoke, arms digging a grave, blood running tracks down the backs of his hands. The face of a woman in a market across the sea, flowers in her arms and hair, a smile lighting up her face. Even the queen by his side couldn’t dull the screaming reverberating in his head.

Rowan didn’t hear what Aelin said as she turned to him, but he saw her face. Her eyes widened, and she clenched and unclenched her fingers, any words lodged in her throat.

Rowan just stared at the girl, who was smiling, alight with life and a vibrant energy that sliced through him like a knife. She smiled at a passing woman, holding out her peonies for a sale.

Rowan breathed, Aelin’s anxiety brushing past him with a wash of flickering embers. Truth. The only thing he could offer her. 

“I didn’t deserve her,” he said quietly.

Aelin swallowed hard. A long pause. Then, “I didn’t deserve Sam.”

Rowan turned to look at Aelin, her eyes downturned, her mouth soft. He would do anything to keep that sadness off her face. Anything.

Rowan reached out to brush her fingers with his, maybe to hold her hand, or pull her body into his. But at the last moment, he remembered himself, and dropped his arm back to his side.

He must have invented that glint of disappointment in Aelin’s eyes.

“Come,” she said. “I want to show you something.”

They left the flower girls behind, moving deeper into the city, but Rowan was unable to completely let go of the pain wrapping his heart in ice.

···

Aelin scrounged up some dessert from the street vendors while Rowan waited in a shadowed alley, then she pulled him deeper into the city proper, until they darted into a side alley and ducked into a hidden entrance that led to a rickety wooden staircase. 

Now, Aelin was munching on a lemon cookie while they sat on one of the wooden rafters in the gilded dome of the darkened Royal Theater, Aelin swinging her legs in the open air below.

The space was dark and silent, unnaturally so. As if the very seats and aisles longed for the return of the music that had once blanketed them. Sunlight poured in from the roof door they’d entered through, illuminating the rafters and the golden dome, gleaming faintly off the polished brass banisters and the blood red curtains of the stage below.

“This used to be my favorite place in the entire world,” Aelin said, her words full of a loving nostalgia. “Arobynn owns a private box, so I went any chance I could. The nights I didn’t feel like dressing up or being seen, or maybe the nights I had a job and only an hour free, I’d creep in here through that door and listen.”

Rowan finished the cookie Aelin had foisted on him, still just gazing into the dark space below. He still hadn’t said anything since they’d left the flower vendors, and he could smell the scent of Aelin’s worry wafting around them. Wanting to ease her tension, and to turn away from the icy marble deep in his chest, he turned back to her.

Aelin seemed to practically sigh in relief as he said, “I’ve never seen an orchestra – or a theater like this, crafted around sound and luxury. Even in Doranelle, the theaters and amphitheaters are ancient, with benches or just steps.”

“There’s no place like this anywhere, perhaps. Even in Terrasen.”

“Then you’ll have to build one.”

“With what money? You think people are going to be happy to starve while I build a theater for my own pleasure?”

“Perhaps not right away, but if you believe one would benefit the city, the country, then do it. Artists are essential.”

Aelin sighed, seemingly unable to handle another burden, small as it was. “This place has been shut down for months, and yet I swear I can still hear the music floating in the air.”

Rowan angled his head, studying. “Perhaps the music does live on, in some form.” It was almost as though he could feel its absence, in the taste of the air and the flutter of the curtains. The space wasn’t just empty, it was waiting.

A silver lining appeared in Aelin’s eyes. “I wish you could have heard it – I wish you had been there to hear Pytor conduct the Stygian Suite. Sometimes, I feel like I’m still sitting down in that box, thirteen years old and weeping from the sheer glory of it.”

“You cried?” he blinked, watching as the memories passed behind her eyes and wishing he could see them as she did.

“The final movement – every damn time,” she sighed, almost laughing at herself. “I would go back to the Keep and have the music in my mind for days, even as I trained or killed or slept. It was a kind of madness, loving that music. It was why I started playing the pianoforte – so I could come home at night and make my poor attempt at replicating it.”

“Is there a pianoforte in here?” he asked, looking back into the darkness without waiting for an answer, the ghost of a smile passing over his face.

···

“I haven’t played in months and months. And this is a horrible idea for about a dozen different reasons,” Aelin complained for the tenth time as she finished rolling back the curtains on the stage.

Rowan kept quiet, focusing on lighting the single candle he had found backstage. He knew that the space had once been grand and beautiful, but now, amid the gloom of the dead theater, it felt like standing in a tomb. The chairs were still perfectly arranged for a massive orchestra, though they were now covered in dust. No one had been in here in weeks.

Rowan turned and walked over to the pianoforte, which was near the front of the stage. He had never learned to play, his court lessons not extending so far as learning an instrument. 

Rowan had been to his fair share of balls and events, but it had been a rare thing for him to have an opportunity to listen to music just for music’s sake. Much of those events had been heavily overshadowed by the annoyance of dealing with court maneuvering. And after Lyria’s death, he had avoided such things at all costs.

He could barely remember the last time he had been able to listen to any kind of music and just listen. To have the pleasure of experiencing the art, the magic of it. He ran a hand over the smooth surface of the instrument as if it were a prize horse, marveling at the potential the lay within.

Aelin was hesitating at his side. “It seems like sacrilege to play that thing,” she said, her words echoing too loudly in the space.

“Since when are you the religious type, anyway?” Rowan gave her an encouraging smile. He just hoped that it wasn’t too crooked. “Where should I stand to best hear it?”

“You might be in for a lot of pain at first.”

“Self-conscious today, too?” Maybe teasing would get it out of her.

“If Lorcan’s snooping about,” she grumbled, “I’d rather he not report back to Maeve that I’m lousy at playing.”

He just grinned as she pointed to a spot on the stage. “There. Stand there, and stop talking, you insufferable bastard.” He chuckled, and moved across to the center of the stage.

She swallowed as she slid onto the smooth bench and folded back the lid, revealing the gleaming keys beneath. She positioned her feet on the pedals, but made no move to touch the keyboard. “I haven’t played since before Nehemia died,” she admitted, the words heavy.

“We can come back another day, if you want,” he said softly.

“There might not be another day. And – and I would consider my life very sad indeed if I never played again.”

He nodded and crossed his arms. So get on with it then.

She sighed, but turned back to face the keys and slowly set her hands on the instrument, a great beast of sound and joy about to be awakened.

“I need to warm up,” she blurted, then plunged in, the notes soft and light.

It was just a random selection of chords and scales, but still, the music filled the hall with its caring whisper. The whole space seemed to breathe again, as if soaking up the music like light, or air.

And then she began for real.

The piece she played wasn’t merely happy or sad, calm or excited – it was far, far more than that. The complexity of the notes, the way they layered together and bounded off each other – it felt like the melody of life itself. Of the love and glory and pain and beauty in simply breathing.

It filled Rowan up with its warmth, and he felt Aelin’s fiery heat overflowing within each note. The music seemed to be made of her fire, and together they burned. All the while the music built, up and up and up and up, until the sound breaking from the instrument was like the heart-song of a long lost goddess.

Rowan stood and waited, letting the sound wrap around his form like a blanket, letting it slowly melt the ice around his heart. Aelin had always been able to do that, melt away his pain and resistance, without even realizing she could. And now she did so not with words, but with this music that flew from her fingers like small winged creatures, into the empty seats behind them.

Rowan drifted over to stand beside the instrument. He was drawn to her, to the fire that made him feel so alive. Then she whispered to him, “Now,” and the crescendo shattered into the world, note after note after note. The music crashed around them, roaring through the emptiness of the theater.

She brought the piece home to its final explosive, triumphant chord, and Rowan could feel tears lining his eyes. When she looked up, panting slightly, he just gazed at her, at the queen who had lit up his darkness, and marveled.

He struggled for words, but then finally breathed, “Show me - show me how you did that.”

···

They spent the better part of an hour seated together on the bench, Aelin teaching him the basics of the pianoforte – explaining the sharps and flats, the pedals, the notes and chords. At last when Rowan heard someone coming to investigate the music, they slipped out.

On their way back to the apartment, they stopped at the Royal Bank. Aelin went inside alone, having ordered Rowan to wait in the shadows across the street, impatient and pissed off. Luckily she only took a few minutes, returning with a bag of gold clasped to her belt.

“So you’re using your own money to support us?” Rowan asked, masking his irritation as best he could.

“For now.”

“And what will you do for money later?”

She glanced sidelong at him. “It’ll be taken care of.”

“By whom?”

“Me.”

He clenched his teeth, anger mounting. “Explain.”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” She gave him a small smile that drove him completely insane. Rowan made to grab her by the shoulder, but she ducked away from his touch.

“Ah, ah. Better not move too swiftly, or someone might notice.” 

He snarled viciously but she only chuckled. “Just be patient and don’t get your feathers ruffled.”

Rowan clenched his jaw, stopping another snarl in its tracks. This conversation could wait until they were both home. Maybe then he would be able to convince her that he absolutely needed to be let in on her plans. It was the only way to keep her safe.

But would she listen?

Rowan scowled at that thought, and took off into the shadows behind Aelin, following her back to the warehouse.

···

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[toosicktoocare]

OKAY SO IM CURRENTLY VERY INTO MANDALORIAN. and i’ve been thinking of a point in time where maybe din & grogu are alone, off in space somewhere or grounded on a planet, and din gets sick, assuming he can take care of himself. but it turns into something much more serious, and eventually grogu manages to find the distress button and cara or someone gets it, and can’t contact din so they go to find him and help him because the poor baby has exhausted himself trying force heal? something in that vein! (i’m a big fan of all your stuff btw!! keep up the good work!)

I’m going to have this set in between seasons 1 and 2, so I’m going to go with Cara and Greef Karga. 

It’s becoming apparent to Din that he’s struggling to discern between the most basic of concepts. Take up from down as an example: When he looks up, if anything to just determine if it’s still day or if his world has blurred to night, his vision doubles vertically. The image of the sky above him, sometimes darker than any shade of black he’s ever seen and sometimes bright enough to burn his skin past his helmet, splits into two wavery scenes, and the bottom half is heavy. It presses against his neck until his head is lolling downward, and suddenly, he’s looking at a snow-covered ground and not the sky. Wasn’t he just looking up?

What’s less apparent, at least to Din, is how he exclusively underestimated this virus, or rather, how severely he overestimated his sheer ability to care for himself. 

It started as a nusicance poking at the back of his throat, nothing more yet nothing less. It was a minor, scratching pain that was only present enough to make sure he was aware of it. He considered that he was getting sick, but under the guise that he’s far too preoccupied to be ill, he brushed it off as allergies. Sure, his helmet’s filters are incredibly advanced, but, he’s still one to succumb to seasonal allergies. 

But, as quick as pushing the Crest into hyperdrive, his symptoms heightened until they were plowing over him, pushing against every muscle, bringing aching pain that dances amongst heat that could melt the snow beneath him and amongst the ice that could frighten the chill around him. 

Terrible, which is the only word his muddy mind can supply, doesn’t seem to bring justice to whatever foreign virus is running rampant through his insides. It’s vicious, all-consuming, and more than anything, he wants to sleep. He wants to yank his helmet off, toss it far away from the heat coloring his cheeks, and he wants to curl up on a cot and sleep until this virus runs it’s course, which, right now he’s thinking, might truly be eternity. 

A small, shaky coo brings forth a brief, harsh burst of clarity, and Din looks down to see the kid tapping lightly on his leg. He should bend down and pick the kid up because, per the inconsistent temperature spikes his body’s currently exhibiting, he’s suddenly well aware of how cold it is, and he shouldn’t be making the kid walk in the snow. Bending, however, requires a movement that, for him, appears as climbing down a mountain. And then, he’ll have to climb back up, with added weight. 

He drops heavily to one knee, and then he teeters. He tries to reach out to the kid, to snag him, but gravity’s conspiring with the virus, and he’s not aware that he’s fallen onto his side until the cold of the snow beneath him begins to chill his armor. 

He opens his eyes, and the kid’s poking at his helmet, dark eyes crowding his vision. Din’s not one for reading expressions, but, if he had to guess, he’d easily say the kid’s worried for him. 

Shit. 

“Sorry, kid,” he rasps out, and he doesn’t even recognize his voice. It sounds heavy, just like the rest of him. Heavy, tired, and shaky. He tries to push himself up because he has to. 

He’s not sure if the kid can understand him, but he promised food nevertheless. He intentionally landed the Crest a miles walk from a small village, and he has to make it there. For the kid. 

The second his arm’s supporting his weight, he blacks out. 

He’s not sure how long this time, but when he pries his eyes open, his helmet’s beginning to frost over, and the kid’s focused in front of his vision, both small hands raised, eyes closed, and face scrunched up. Din thinks he’s seen this before, but then the pain in his head is reminding him that unconsciousness is much better, and he’s drifitng off. 

He wakes the second time to shouts that he can’t quite make out, shouts that carry across a too-cold wind. He’s freezing, yet, the skin stretched across his face is relishing in the ice creeping underneath his helmet. The kid’s still in front of him, but he’s no longer standing, and his large, dark eyes are drooping. Something’s wrong, Din thinks. He reaches one hand out, his glove brushing against the kid’s foot, and then he’s being dragged underneath the virus once more. 

When he wakes again, it’s because he’s warm, and though his mind is struggling to wrap around sentences that are even remotely coherent, he knows that the warmth isn’t normal, considering he’d almost gotten used to the cold. 

Still, it’s not unwelcome, by any means. It’s comfortable, the only comfort against his otherwise struggling core, and he’s nodding back off when two thoughts abruptly burst across his mind: the kid and his helmet. 

He jerks forward, eyes practically bulging, and the gasp that rips down his throat is coming back through harsh coughs that crowd the inside of his helmet. One hand flies up to his face, thankful to feel the now warmed metal against his gloves, and his eyes shift, alert, until they fall on two backs. 

“The kid,” he rasps around deep, hollow coughs. 

“Beside you,” Cara says, back still turned. “Insisted on it, really. Hope he’s got an immune system of steel.” 

Din glances down to see the kid curled up at his side, sleeping, his small face faintly scrunched up still. He breathes a shaky breath in around his coughs, allowing the filtered air to settle his lungs, and then he ghosts two fingers over the kid’s face, right above the small furrow temporarily etched in his forehead. 

“We won’t turn around,” Greef Karga calls out, and Din whips his gaze back up, happy to see that he’s able to look in an almost straight line. 

“We wanted to make sure you weren’t dead under that shell first,” he adds, and Din thumbs at the bottom of his helmet. 

“We imagine you’ll be much more comfortable without it. Plus, you’ve got medicine you must take.” 

Din spares a glance to the wooden cup of green liquid at his side. 

“What is this?” 

“Some weird concotion of ingredients I promise you don’t want to know,” Greef Karga replies, and Cara sighs loudly.

“Just drink it, so you don’t die.”

Din brings the cup up to his face, squinitng down at the less than appetizing liquid. “What happened?” he asks, abandoning the cup at his side. 

“You,” Cara starts, dragging out the word, “were lying half dead in the snow. Somehow, the kid called for us, used one of your devicies, I think, and when we arrived, I think...”

“He was attempting to heal you,” Greef Karga finishes lowly, and Din whips his gaze back down. Memories flood his mind until it’s swimming, and he shakes his head with a low sigh that gives way to a few coughs. 

“I don’t...” 

“The proper terminology is ‘thank you,’“ Cara interrupts, and though she doesn’t turn around, Din can easily picture the light-hearted scowl stretched across her lips. 

“Thank you,” he says, and he means it. His life is one thing, but the kid’s... That’s a life that’s in his hands, that he willingly put in his hands, and he can’t jeopardize that. He won’t.

“We’ll be just outside the tent,” Greef Karga starts, stepping to leave. “We’ll make sure no one comes in, so you should really consider losing the helmet for a bit.” 

“And taking the medicine.” Cara adds, and Din watches as the two leave. His hands move toward the base of his helmet, and he waits until the flaps of the tent’s entrance still before he slowly slides his helmet off, setting it aside with a long sigh that’s been swelling in his lungs for days. A few coughs trail behind it, and he tugs one glove off and presses the back of his hand to his cheek. 

The contact is hot, burning even, and he drops his hand to his neck for just a moment. He can’t let himself get this bad again, he thinks to himself. This... was careless. Dangerous, and somehow, he’s been dealt the best, possible outcome to a corner he backed himself into. 

Before he can talk himself out of it, he downs the cup of medicine in one gulp, grimacing at the odd mixture of flavors, and then he’s sinking back down against the makeshift bed of furs and woven pillows. Instinctively, he feels for his blasters. Still there, so he can still be prepared, even in his current state. 

He still feels horrible. His body’s still too heavy, and everything’s aching almost loudly. He knows he’s got another few days before his fever gives, and he’s sure the cough, a new development from what he could last remember, will linger. But right now, in this warm second, he’s safe. The kid is safe. And, in a moment of unscripted vulnerabilty, he tugs the kid a little tighter to his side. 

Perhaps it’s the fever distorting things yet again, but he swears the kid’s face softens, even just a little.

[dylanxmin]

painkiller ∣ 5 ∣ j.hs

breakups are habitual, ordinary maybe even easy for some other people, and maybe it could be easy for you, too, if you haven’t been dumped by your boyfriend after finding out that you were pregnant. no, it wasn’t easy even a bit. and a stranger who wants to be your side doesn’t make this all easy for you, at all.

pairing; jung hoseok x reader

genre; angst, fluff, humor, pregnancy au, strangers to lovers au, single!mom au, slice of life au,,

warnings; little high on angst, swearings, mention of abortion, mention of adoption, mention of miscarriage, unedited(rlly sorry about this)

word count; 5k+

rating; nc17

a/n; heyyy, it’s been a month since i last update this story and i only blame my finals, my sudden lost of muse, and some side effects of my life but there it is, freshly served, angsty episode!! ion know how did this come out but im feeling positive for the next episode! so,,,, hope you all enjoy reading this part, and as always, i do really appreciate a little comment soooo... lol, love y’all  ♡

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‘‘Yes, can we have a brief explanation about the story of our current project?’’ 

‘‘Miss Y/N?’’ 

‘‘Y/N?’’ 

Light, red and yellow mixes and crushes down when something hard nudges at your shoulder and brings you the reality. Shake of your body startles Namjoon, who was nudging your shoulder to wake you up. Pairs of eyes currently stares at you, wide, curious and surprised, too, as no one expects you to fall asleep in the middle of an important meeting. But, you did anyway. Surprising yourself with such an action, yet you lost control of your sleep schedule way before this meeting, so you weren’t that ashamed as the sleep still lingers around your head. 

Blinking, blinking, blinking for a couple of times before your vision loses its blur, and the faces look way better to your own eyes. Shock still fresh on their faces, a weird sound rises by your throat as you try to clean it before talking. Namjoon holds his laugh back, but you can see it in the redness of his cheeks and the veins that struggle under his skin. 

‘‘I-’’ you clear your throat, once again as it comes hoarse from sleeping. ‘‘I’m sorry, can you say it again?’’ Mr. Lee stares directly into your eyes, he opens his mouth but closes again. And you know you will try to drown yourself in the sink if the corner of his mouth hasn't curled up. 

You sigh, before he asks again, and listens to your explanation. You try to keep it smooth, and once you start to talk about your work, all the sleep leaves your head, enthusiasm fills it place. 

You love your work. Falling asleep doesn’t mean the opposite. 

‘‘I swear to god if you won’t stop laughing, Kim-’’ 

‘‘But..- but you told the story of our new game, drool drying on your chin, with such an enthusiastic manner.’’ Namjoon’s giggles cut himself, palm hangs in the air, other on his knee. A manager who is in his thirties enjoys his coworkers suffer, laughs his lungs off. Such a mature man. You sigh, hand curled around the cup full of water for you to go to the bathroom after. Countless times. 

Fingertips pinching the tip of your brows, you stand on the kitchen side of your office. Shame still red on your face, you barely able to hold yourself back from either crying or smashing the cup on your friend’s head. Which, you like the last option very much. It’s a shame that you possibly couldn’t do that here. Maybe later, on one of your movie nights. 

‘‘I think it was cute, though.’’ the man in his much more formal clothes rather than his usual sweatpants and his shirt enters the kitchen side. Brown hair brushed neatly on the left side, his features look good. ‘‘Don’t pressure yourself anymore. I’m sure they are used to these things.’’ 

‘‘Thank you for helping my self-reliance to gather itself, but I don’t think it’s that simple, Damien.’’ imitating his smile, even though it’s more faint then he has, you sigh once again. Taking a spot on the table, you let your head fall on it. ‘‘I was literally drooling all over myself. Ugh… such a mess.’’ 

Another laugh escapes by Namjoon’s lips, but he pats your head also. ‘‘Damien is right. You know Jihoon and Yeona will be cool about this.’’ 

You scoff. ‘‘Yeah, but I don’t refer to them by their first names as they are the Ceo’s of this company. Like you,’’ 

‘‘Then you shouldn’t refer to me with my name, too, as I’m your boss.’’ an annoying smirk alive on his mouth, he swipes his body on the table. Gulping down his coffee, his stares never leaves you. Something hot, almost burning coils in your chest. Reminding you red, as you stare at him back. Mouth wrinkled, your breath felt heavy. 

It was anger and you didn’t know how to pressure it back where it came from. Even before your pregnancy, you weren’t good with handling your emotions, but now. With so many hormones not knowing what to do, you were even worse. Sudden crying sessions, constant fury always ready to burst out, and the sneaky, dark anxiety getting you at the worst moment, where you were alone and in the dark. It was hard, and too much. Even before being pregnant, and while being pregnant. You weren’t good with them. 

‘‘You know what, I decide not to cook for you anymore.’’ heartbreak flashes in Namjoon eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest. ‘‘You can buy your own chicken breast from somewhere and eat that shitty sauce.’’ 

‘‘Ouch..’’ Damien who is currently watching the cold vibrations coming from you, stays silent after your gaze lands on him. He is scared, and not ready to be the next target of your stinging tongue. Though, it doesn’t last that long. 

Once you see the tremble of Namjoon’s lips, and his hug follows his sorry’s, your coldness melts away. Shame creeps back, sits heavy as you lower your head on the table. But before you can dive in your bad scenarios in your head, brutal yet familiar bickering starts when Nara enters the kitchen, after she takes her place on the table. Her nose crinkled with disgust while waiting for Namjoon to end his insults, only to throw another to him. Damien tries to cut them off, but it’s useless as he gives up and rests his back on his chair. Hesitant stares gather on you, only to tear them apart while you pretend like you didn’t notice. 

Yet, you don’t want to suffocate yourself with your thoughts, you raise your head, eyes meeting with the brown haired man. Because you don’t and probably can’t break that cold war between your friend and Nara, you find your escape on Damien. 

‘‘So, we have to prepare a meeting for you to put a suit on?’’ cocking your brow high, you ask. His surprise fades after a moment of waiting. Maybe because you aren’t the warmest person or because of the effect of your friends that filled your head with the idea of him having some feelings for you, you never attempt to talk with him first. Not that he isn’t a decent man, but more likely, you weren’t into him and did not want to make a wrong move. For him to get the wrong idea. 

But maybe you are being stupid for believing your delusinal friends about his feelings, and he just wants to be friendly. Though, it’s good to not risk anything, right?

‘‘Suits just not my type, and also, who is wearing these other than him?’’ Damien points Namjoon, who is in a deep, hurtful conversation with your other coworker. You tear your eyes from him to land on Damien once again, his smiling this time. Wide, eyes imitating it. ‘‘Also, doesn’t it hurt your feet? You weren’t wearing heels for a long time.’’ 

After he mentions it, your feet start to pulse with pain. Embarrassment clouded all over your other senses, but his words bring them back. And you wrinkle your face in pain. Of course, it hurts. How it won’t hurt while your feet try to set themselves free by growing bigger inside of its cage and the process isn’t an easy one. Though, these whining are the last thing for your coworker to hear so you simply go with a soft smile. 

‘‘Yeah, a bit but nothing I can’t handle.’’ 

‘‘Oh okay then. Good to hear.’’ he leans closer, eyes gleaming like a child in his pre-mischievous stage. ‘‘Just in case, I have a pair of nice sneakers waiting in my closet. All comfy and less deadly.’’ 

Mirroring the act, you also get close to him. Palm covering the side of your curled mouth, ‘‘I will consider it, but why are you acting like you were selling drugs?’’ whispering the half of your words, you cocked your head aside, watching his face wrinkle due to his growing smile. And seeing him from this side, you realise how good looking he is. Radiant smile adds more point to his charisma as he does, eyes narrow but curls cutely on the ends, and for a second you just stare at his side profile. His spotless skin dips on the cheek as his dimple wants to show off. Thankfully, when he starts to talk the silvery sheet goes away, to your luck. 

‘‘Well, we won’t want other heel wearers to come at my desk for my fancy shoes, right?’’ 

Nodding, you point your finger at him as if he made a good point. ‘‘I see… Of course we wouldn’t want that, of course.’’ 

After the short break, everyone turned in their work the same as you. And you find yourself so tired after talking about the details of the story of your current game with Heejin. Trying to find reliable reasons and motives is hard for some time, as you continue to work on the specific character’s choices in the game, and why and exactly how they should do is sometimes irksome even when you have someone who tries really hard to help you. Yet, you know you can’t put all the weight on Heejin’s shoulders as the poor woman barely had some sleep because of the pre-cold effect. 

When she sneezed for the fourth time in the last five minutes, you had to stop and be sure of her well being. Putting your palm on her clothed arm, you mimicked a smile to look sympathetic rather than annoyed. Even though you were a little bit. Thankfully, she doesn’t have to know that. 

‘‘I know I asked this before but are you sure you are okay? Maybe you should take a rest for the rest of the day. Obviously, you need some.’’ 

She looks hesitant at first, eyes widens at your words but she covers it with a faint smile and nods. ‘‘Oh, I’m okay, I’m okay. You don’t have to worry about me.’’ Heejin bites down her lip before continuing again. ‘‘Did I annoy you? I’m sorry, I just took a pill, so I think that will make me better in a couple of minutes.’’ 

‘‘No, no…’’ pulling your hands in the air, you shake your head in denial. It did bother you but not much for her to apologize for being sick. ‘‘I just wanted to check on you, I’m not… disturbed. It’s okay.’’ 

Your half reassurance works barely, as she tries to lower the voice of her sneezes after that. And everytime, a drip adds to your growing guilt. As Heejin is younger than you for three years, and you have been working here longer than her, it puts some stairs between you two and now with that, you fix the ice between you two. The ice that you have been trying to melt from the first day she was here, and now, thanks to your pregnancy hormones, it started to build once again. Not just with Heejin, but everyone around you was walking on eggshells around you as your rage came out of nowhere, so sudden that sometimes it even shocks you. But for a stupid reason - well, it’s not stupid as you are pregnant and that played with your emotions -, you couldn’t control the sudden change of your feelings. 

One second being calm and the other being tense did tire you for sure as senses flow through every nerve you have. Breathing exercises merely helped, and that led you to staying away from the people around you. As sometimes words come out rude before you can realise. And nobody deserves that kind of attitude, even the ones you know from your childhood. 

For that reason, you turned down Taehyung’s offer to come with you as you know that owing to his nature, he will do something silly to make you angry or stressed even when he does it with all his good intentions. Some days, even when you are in your usual state you can’t stop being bothered by him, and you had no intentions to taste it today. Which, nothing was normal in your current mental state, so that’s for the best. 

Driving past the now familiar streets, you learned a new thing: Driving with a jean without opening its button can be hard, as you have to undo the button while your stomach growls in need. While your stomach become visible, looking like you ate too much for your stomach to handle, sudden thirst for stupid cravings increased day by day. Sadly, it affected your friends as much as you. 

In the middle of night, you woke Yoongi up for him to get you apples, pickles for Taehyung and last but not least, ice cream for Namjoon. As your cravings decide to choose the oddest times, three of them find the solution to fill your fridge until there is no space left. Well, after you sat on your kitchen floor and cried they had to eat some of them with you, as they basically called you fat by doing that, and paid for it. For them, they just wanted to make sure you get what you want but at this point, what they thought barely mattered. 

‘‘Okay, that was tiring.’’ you whispered through your exhale, while parking the car. For the records, parking turned into a hell show for you as going further and back, further and back, further, further and back has your nerves strain like a string. Though, you never liked it anyway. You were ready to leave your car, but the ringtone of your phone cut the act. 

‘‘Hey, mom.’’ 

‘‘Nope. Your voice sounds the same, rather than I thought so.’’ sighing, you brushed your face by your palm. Words like a needle on the skin, your mother always knew how to use them. ‘‘Well don’t ‘ahhh’ at me. As we barely speak, I obviously expect to forget your voice, tell me if I’m wrong.’’ 

Nodding as if she is able to see you through the phone, you put your head on the wheel. She was annoyed as it was very clear by her high and thin tone. 

‘‘Yes, Ma’am.’’ your reply earned another high pitched warning from her so you had to calm her between your giggles. ‘‘Okay, okay… You’re right, Mama. I should call you more but you know work and everything keeps me busy. But I will try my best, promise.’’ 

‘‘Apology accepted. But even though I know you prefer to talk about work, and the video thing you adore talking about, I’m most likely interested in my baby’s baby. So, how’s the pregnancy going?’’ 

This is the exact reason why you didn’t call her more than you did. As she is very interested in your life and interior with it, of course pregnancy will be the same. And you couldn’t ignore the things you can as she will talk about them, will want to know about them and give some advice from her past experiences. Not that you will need any of them, but of course as you postponed everything, you did the same thing to this topic, too, and left your mother in the dark. You will run as far as you can. 

‘‘They called games, not video thing but it’s your choice.’’ while thinking of it itched your tongue, you swallowed all the tensing thoughts down, and ready yourself to talk. ‘‘And the… pregnancy is going good if we don’t count the constant eating, peeing, crying, being tired twenty-four-seven, not fitting in my favorite clothes and all the pain it put me through.’’ 

She laughs as if you just told the funniest joke she heard. Cocking your brows, you run through what you said to make her laugh this much to fail. 

‘‘Ohhh, my baby. Stop talking about this as the things are all bad. You have a baby in your belly, your baby. They will become your everything, and mostly good things because you will love them more than anything you can. Believe me, I could die in return for your laugh. A bubbly, vivid laugh. Ahh… remembering it made me soft, right now.’’ 

‘‘Trying to be unbiased about gender, I see?’’ 

‘‘Well, I don’t want to affect the baby.’’ 

Though you want so bad to ask how that could actually affect the baby, you stay silent. All the baby talk is already pulling you down, it is better if you can stay out of the gender topic as much as you can. Not that it mattered, you thought. 

‘‘What do you mean? Why it wouldn’t matter darling?’’ 

Huh? 

Clearly, you weren’t thinking, but murmuring under your breath as your mom heard it. When you hit your head on the wheel, the horn startles you both. Fixing your posture, you answered your mother’s hurried question. 

‘‘It was horn, I’m in the car. Yes, yes I’m okay, don’t worry. I’m at the hospital- No, no- Mom, for the appointment. Yes… yes, for the baby. I will talk to you later, okay? I will call, I promise- Yes, I promise. Okay, love you, too.’’ 

You sigh once again. A loud one. 

You do hate lying to the woman who would do anything you want, but you know she is not ready to lose her grandchild, yet. You are not ready for the speech you will receive, also. Not that it will be harsh or critical, you just are not ready to accept the whole thing. Yes, you still had problems with the whole pregnancy thing even though you made your mind with adoption. You still had thirty weeks to go, and that won’t go fast. Not in a normal time, or in the pregnancy. 

Head full of blurring thoughts, you missed the man who shakes his hand from afar. The black haired man’s smile faded as you passed by his side without sparing a glance. Too busy with thinking how to calm your mother after you give her the news. The news that she won’t have a grandchild anytime soon. Fuck… that’s gonna be hard. 

Well, maybe not hard as much as the door you decide to welcome it with your face rather than opening. A loud thud, and muffled curse under your breath, instinctively you checked your nose if there is more than the pain you feel, as there is no blood you calm down, shoulders drop their usual place. Apparently, you were conscious enough to lead yourself to the floor where your doctor’s office, past the stairs, and find his door but when it comes to open the door you fail. Tears sit on your eyelids at once as you close them due to the pain that crushes your sight. Trying to massage your nose bridge barely helps but giving it a try won’t hurt, you think. 

‘‘Oh my, are you okay?’’ from your closed and blurred eyesight, you can’t choose who is the one talking but his voice lets you know that he is your doctor, Seokjin. ‘‘I heard a loud thug but couldn’t understand it was a human until you groaned. Are you okay, you bumped your nose? Let me get a look at that.’’ 

Not forgetting to thank him while he guides you inside his office, now you are able to open your eyes and set the tears free as they go down. Seokjin sits you on the white sheeted chair, handles your head to go right and left as he scans your face and nose behind creased eyes. He looks really concerned, more than you, and somehow it puts you on a stage where you feel like you have to make him sure that you were okay and nothing was wrong. It still feels weird when someone gets concerned over you more than yourself, as who would care for someone more than one’s self so it’s still vague. 

‘‘I-I’m actually okay. I didn’t hit that hard as it sounds, it doesn’t even bleed so…’’ wry smile is all you offer him as your voice trails down when his eyes meet with yours, a bit keen rather than you thought they will. 

Seokjin sighs with a line between his brows but he lets go, and when he puts a decent distance between you and himself, professionalism settles in his features as he adjusts his tie. 

‘‘It does look okay, but make sure you put some ice when you can as it could leave a bruise behind.’’ he smiles, both sweet and very technically. As he practiced it for every client he had and now performing it without any difficulties. It looks natural. ‘‘So, tell me how are you feeling? You should still have the early pregnancy symptoms such as morning sickness, sleep issues, and more likely they will hang around for a few more weeks. But it’s more important if you have a symptom that comes unnatural or unbearably painful for you?’’ 

After taking two deep breaths, you feel ready to give him a reply. Nose still throbs by the hit but it’s faint now. 

‘‘Uhm…- yeah, other than the ‘expected’ symptoms, I don’t feel like something is wrong, or not supposed to happen. No more painful urination, though I still need it frequently.’’ you grimace lightly as you share, shifting a bit. ‘‘But yeah, I’m okay.’’ you try to wipe the fresh embarrassment with the non glowing smile you had in your storage. Probably he should but you still don’t know if he needs to know that you choose adoption. As he is your doctor, and the one who is taking care of you and the baby, you know that he must know about it, but unpleasant eerie stops you from doing what you should.  

Old habits die hard, that’s for sure. 

‘‘Excellent. It’s good to hear that everything is going on it’s way, and today, as now you are in the tenth week of your pregnancy, I’m recommending you a genetic test in case there is any birth defect.’’ 

‘‘What is that?’’ even though Seokjin was done with talking, you utter so fast that it feels like you interrupted him, as you shut your mouth with wrinkled brows. It was just getting tiring day by day with all of these tests, things to do and not to do, being extra careful because you have another living creature in you to take care, more than yourself. No more selfish, damaging, stupid choices can be done as your body no longer belonged to you. At least not only to you and this was really, really tiresome. 

As he was expecting this, Seokjin comes up with some papers as you can understand them. ‘‘As I said before, it’s a test to acknowledge any kind of defect in the baby. These tests take two forms: screening tests and diagnostic tests. And a screening test tells you the likelihood that your baby could have a birth defect; a diagnostic test tells you with more than ninety nine percent certainty whether the baby has the disorder.’’ He explains more as you take the papers from him, scanning the words but they are almost identical as Seokjin continues with his further explanation. The blank eerie gets heavier and heavier the further he talks, and when he comes to the risks, it feels like your pulse palpitates on your throat. Tearing your eyes from the papers that sit on your lap, you stare at the man who is still talking. 

‘‘There is small risk of miscarriage, that’s why you need to carefully consider tha advantages and the disadvantages of these test before you make any decision, even it’s small.’’ 

A slap to the face, a weight falls on your stomach after Seokjin is done with his statement. Mouth hangs open, you stay still, silent as the Doctor waits patiently, now he is behind his desk, sitting his hands intertwined. As if he knows the new information would put a heavy dullness in you as he searches your every movement, yet you gave him hardly any. 

‘‘Do I… have to?’’ 

The idea of taking these tests would be tiring is there but the cause of your nausea is not just that. More likely, it’s the idea of losing something. Even though that something doesn’t belong to you because you never wanted it, and nothing has changed since then. Whether it's the guilt of knowing everything caused because of your recklessness, or it’s because you feel obligated to give the baby a good life due to your current maternal instincts - you hardly say you had one -, whether it’s beside you or far away from you, you feel the suffocating necessity. Even if the risk has one percent chance, you can’t take it. Maybe it’s odd to push your one percent chance to become free with the back of a hand, but that would be running away, and both of you already had one runner in your lives, and the baby wouldn’t need another. 

‘‘I know it sounds scary but you can take your time, you don’t have to do it now. You can search it a bit more about the cons and pros but I never had any problems with my former clients if you need any consolation. And you can always ask for me more.’’ 

Chewing your bottom lip, you still look at him in the eye like you need to give him an answer. You do trust your doctor but that doesn’t mean that you purposely rejected the idea of getting abortion while you deal with an unwanted pregnancy only to come across with a risk of miscarriage. Of course it is always there whether you do the test or not, but that's nearly a consolation. 

Nodding, you put all the papers in your bag before leaving the doctor’s office. Biding your goodbyes after ending with this week control. 

You come to the hospital with a dazed head, and you were going to leave it even more wrecked. But you just needed some air, somewhere to ease the wave of emotions that is going through your head. To catch your breath, you adjust your route to the cafeteria in the outdoors. Maybe, that could help you somehow. 

Not temporarily, but taking fresh air in your lungs somehow helped you. The phone call you had with Taehyung while you were at the verge of tears, too, and you sit in the cafeteria during all of these. Mimicking the doctor's words to your friend and Taehyung had listened to you, hang on your every word as much as he can on the other side of the line. Tried to console you, said that things will be alright and nothing bad will happen as if he was as sure as his name. And momentarily, you believed him. Both because you needed it, and he was being a good friend and you didn’t want him to feel useless. 

For good or ill, now, your heart is resting in ease. 

Well at least it was until you see a glimpse of dark uniform in the corner of the wall, and then a familiar face you haven’t seen in a while. A smile that softly shaped as heart, causing your heart to palpitate fast but in a much different way than the news you learned today, or the idea of your mother's future disappointment. It’s more thrilling and in a way even scarier than the other two options. As the opposite of how familiar the face is, the reason for your heart going this insane was abrupt. Even odd when you think the very less time you spent with the owner of the familiar face, yet it was there, forcing you to gulp down, consume every emotion he forced you to feel. 

Contrary to what you expect - and you didn’t know why you were expecting him to be happy after seeing you - his face falls, the shape of heart shutters around his mouth. And to your shock, it put needles somewhere near to your chest. 

The last time you saw him, the atmosphere was intense as you shared things that normally you wouldn’t do with a partially stranger but with him even though feelings were gloomy, you weren’t uneasy. And to you, when he was consoling you, internalizing what you were telling him, he wasn’t disturbed. At least he didn't look like that. But, the more you size him up, the more you get sure of his strange disturbance. And it did burn. Smoke choked you down, and put tears on your eyes. Fucking pregnancy hormones…

Not aware of your action, you caught your hand in the air, in the middle of a shake as Hoseok greeted you by the tiny bow of his head. And expecting more cutted harsly, as a knife in the gut. 

Whether it’s because of your blind act, or whether he feels obligated, Hoseok comes closer to the table you were sitting, leaving the person behind he was talking to before he saw you. With every step, you breathe another air to gather your confidence a bit high, but it’s useless as your hands start to tremble under the table, fortunately away from his sight. 

‘‘H-hi,’’ no matter how much Hoseok tries to sound friendly, it’s not, and you can hear in his voice as it comes out broken. His eyes are still deep and candid but not glowing the way it fascinated you when you first saw him. Still, you greeted him with a tight smile, wave of your hand small. 

‘‘Take a seat-’’ pointing the available chair, you cut yourself to say something else. To correct your words. ‘‘I mean if you want… of course,’’ 

To your surprise, he holds the chair to adjust for him to sit on. But everything feels so forced and awkward that you can’t stop wondering if you said something to him and cause him to feel uncomfortable around you. Your brain works so hard to scan the memories of that day, but you fail to find something so disturbing to make Hoseok shift in his seat, a line between his brows and a noticeably insincere smile. 

It takes minutes for someone to talk first and scare the clouds away only for a moment. 

‘‘Are you waiting for your appointment or has it already finished?’’ 

‘‘Ah, yeah, it’s done. I just needed to take a moment and fresh air because…’’ your voice eventually trailed off as you realised he just asked to look friendly and probably doesn’t want to hear your whelming emotions anymore. ‘‘of stuffs, you know.’’ 

Hoseok nods, his mouth thin as a line, and even though it shouldn’t, it breaks your heart. Yes, this man owes you nothing, and of course he doesn’t have to sit there and listen to how sorry and depressed you feel over the things doctor Seokjin have told you, but it still hurts to see him this… joyless. The curiosity burns deep and wild as you desperately want to know what the hell you did to make him this anxious, but your mind barely helps as you wander in the empty field. 

‘‘I should probably get going-’’ 

‘‘It’s been a while-’’

Words clashing and drowning one another, silence takes over and Hoseok abruptly stops above his chair as he was about to leave before you parted him. And now he looks at you with wide eyes, fear in his chest growing big as your bottom lip trembles for only a second but he catches it. 

He sits back on his seat with hands on the air. ‘‘Oh, yeah, it’s been a while since we last saw each other.’’ he says but you know it’s out of pity, and you would rather die than crumbling under his gaze. So you shake your head with a false smile, though hammers work in your chest. 

‘‘Ah, don’t mind me. Go ahead, you are probably busy and have so much to do. So, you can leave, seriously.’’ 

‘‘No-, no, no, Y/N. I’m sorry, I want to stay and talk to you, really. I really am sorry for acting rude.’’ 

Maybe because the look on his face, or the warm tone of his voice, you decide not to pressure him to leave after you ask if he really wants it for a second time. But he nods and smiles, and this time it reaches his eyes, a hot pink blossoms in you. 

Though, before either of you can say anything, a touch at your back stops you. You hear the breathy voice before you turn your head. ‘‘Ahh, finally I found... you. Care to explain why you are-...not picking your phone?’’ 

And when you turn over, you see a panthing Yoongi. His hand on his knee and looks at you with concerned gaze. Then, they leave you only to land on the man on the other side of the table, and Yoongi’s eyes go wide. 

He extends his hand in a non-moving shake to the air. ‘‘Oh, hi. Sorry to butt in.’’ he stretches his hand towards him, the ghost of a smile appears on his lips. ‘‘It’s Yoongi,’’ 

Voice deep, and it takes long to draw out when the man in dark uniform mirrors the act. ‘‘Hoseok.’’ 

[dracosearlgreytea]

indelicate marks (3)

indelicate marks: chapter three - the first memory 

A/N: well hello there, im back again with chapter three! please give this fic time - i will warn you, this fic takes a little to get started but i promise that it will get going soon! thanks for all your support, lots of love from me - ivy 

warnings: language, depictions of torture, lotsa angst, draco being... draco 

lovely tags: @h-annahayy @okaydraco

indelicate marks index 

Draco didn't leave Myrtle's bathroom until hours past curfew. He'd been pacing. So much, that his legs were burning by the time he had decided to finally get out of the darkness the room had sunken into. His mind didn't stop whirring once. He could have sworn that the mumble that came from the doorway was Myrtle. He was sure that it was safe - anyone that mattered would be in the Great Hall, eating, not going to meet a ghost in the bathroom. Not like him. He supposed he hadn't taken you into account. But then again, did you really matter? You were already known for being a Deatheater. In fact, most people in the school learnt that before they even learnt your name. If you found out, would anyone trust you enough to believe you when you told them that he was the real Deatheater? No, you wouldn't really matter. Not if Draco didn't know you had been amongst the crowd of people staring back at him in the Room of Requirement last year. Even through the cloud of dust that had started to settle, he had recognised you instantly. Or more, he recognised the girl that he'd found in a broom cupboard and bled profusely over him in fourth year.   Y/N Y/L/N - the Deatheaters' daughter. Yet, Draco was certain that you hadn't spoken to Potter or his crowd since the exposure of Dumbledore's Army - or at least he hadn't seen you together. It was his only solace, that you might have ditched them when things had gotten too close to home. Still, by the time he made it back to the common room, he decided that his only option was clear. You needed to be Obliviated.   Draco didn't sleep that night. Not that sleep was easy to come by anyway, after his summer. Every time he edged the darkness that felt all too tempting, his body would jolt, memories of your disturbed expression taunting him. He was frustrated, to say the least. He already had a task given to him by fucking Voldemort hanging over his thoughts on the constant. And now, he'd somehow managed to make himself even more bloody work. Trying to figure out how the hell he was going to Obliviate you without much of a struggle wasn't exactly easy. By around five in the morning, it also became clear that he was going to have to talk to you first. Finding you, however, seemed to prove even more difficult that he anticipated. To Draco's utmost annoyance, you had managed to make yourself even more invisible than you'd been before. Being as he had more or less forgotten your existence on more than one occasion... That was pretty fucking invisible. You were avoiding him. You had to be. A couple days passed, and he still hadn't spotted you once. Anxiety clawed at his conscious every hour of the day. It was already something he'd learnt to adjust to, but it had become more realistic, with his secret out. He'd come to live with a feeling that Dumbledore was about to burst into one of his classes and expose him any minute. Most of those days, he'd spent sitting with Myrtle in the bathroom, hidden from the doorway. He'd kept focused on the sound of it opening, determined to catch you off guard. "You've scared my only friend away, Draco." Myrtle snapped at him on the third day, hands on her hips and lips pursed like a mother scalding her child. He shot her a look, raising an eyebrow. "You called me your friend yesterday." He pointed out. "Yeah, well, I was only being nice!" Myrtle retorted, pushing her glasses up her nose only for them to fall back into position. "Being as you were acting all mopey and lonely, again." Draco let out a snort. "You're one to bloody talk." Instant regret flooded through him at his comment, as Myrtle let out a high pitched wail. She balled her fists, rubbing at her eyes despite a lack of tears, and before he could even attempt to get her stop making such a racket, she was swooping into the air, plummeting into the toilet opposite with a dramatic splash. Of course - of course, the commotion had pulled his attention away from the door, and you'd crept in before he could realise. "You upset Myrtle," Was all you said, staring at where he sat, hunched, on the toilet lid. Draco jumped up, wand already brandished, carefully scanning you - but you only watched him. Bags had started to fill out under your eyes, expression plain. "I'm not going to tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about." You muttered, eyes flickering to where his mark should have been, if it wasn't covered by the dark fabric of his robes. He narrowed his eyes, frowning, but he couldn't deny the relief that resounded in his chest. "Why wouldn't you?" He growled, the tip of his wand unwavering. "Why should I trust you?" You met his gaze then, lips twitching all too familiarly. "You didn't tell anyone." Bringing your left forearm up, you tapped on it, his eyes following the movement. "Consider it me returning a favour." Draco mulled things over for a minute, still not lowering his wand. At least, he was grateful that most of his pent up anxiety had faded. The remaining doubts were still too loud in his mind for his liking, however. Particularly, the fact that you had been spending a lot of time with undesirable company the year before. Potter is already suspicious... If she lets anything slip, I'm fucking dead. Shaking his head, he readjusted his grip on his wand. "It's too dangerous." It came as a mutter. "You've seen too much. You need to be Obliviated." Your eyes flashed, features pulling together in outrage. "Oblivi- Are you fucking mental?" You exclaimed, wand now in hand. "I knew you were going to be difficult but - bloody hell!" Tension settled between you, eyes searching each other. Anticipating the next move. Draco's mind was racing, desperately trying to figure out what next - how was he going to fix things this time? "Draco." It was barely a whisper, but it caught his attention instantly, his panicked eyes pulling back up to yours. His hand had started to shake, breathing shallow. How long had he been silent? Eyes open, and honest, you stared back. "You can trust me." He swallowed, lips pulling into a scowl. "What if someone tries to get in your head, huh? What are you going to do then?" Realisation struck across your expression. "You can trust me," You repeated, raising your eyebrows lightly. Before he could help himself, he steadied his wand and the spell fell across his lips. "Legilimens!" There was a struggle, your conscious harsh against his. You let out a gasp of surprise, which was vague with his focus on your thoughts. Draco only pushed harder, pressing himself into your thoughts, ignoring the way his vision began to blur reality and memories. Glimpses of faces, distant echoes of voices, and pinpricks of emotion shot through him. Then, everything came into focus. He was standing in a living room. Several people surrounded him, but he could only identify the one towering over him. His aunt. Bellatrix Lestrange. A wand was poised inches away from his face, and he swallowed, struggling to breathe. "Cosy, with Potter, are we? I bet you have all the gossip." "No - I swear - I haven't spoken to him in months-" A jolt of pain - sharp, like an electrocution. A low moan rumbled in his throat, tears hot on his face. "Don't lie!" Lestrange roared, only to drop to a crouch in front of him. Lacing her fingers through his hair, he felt his body submerge with fear, and she yanked his head to the side, so suddenly, that it felt as though his neck should have snapped at the motion. "Come on, Bloodtraitor," Lestrange whispered, lips flicking into that grim smile he so recognised. "Tell me." "I don't know anything!" The wretched half-sob, half-scream came from him, but it wasn't his own. Bellatrix stuck her bottom lip out exaggeratedly. Another flood of terror washed through him - those dark eyes were shining with hunger, half hidden by corkscrews, but just as threatening. "Pity." She stood again, circling - only to jab the wand back toward him. "Crucio!" Red hot pain singed his entire body, and the screams, oh, Merlin, the screams. They weren't his, but he recognised them without a second of hesitation. And they were enough to haunt him for a lifetime. "STOP!" Draco was flung from the memory, so forcefully he had to stumble back as he returned to his own conscious. Breathing ragged, he stared at you with wide, horrified eyes. He was met with an equally blazing glare. You were shaking, gripping your wand painfully tight. The way your eyes glinted felt too reminiscent to the way you'd watched him all those years ago; your features twisted with venom as you lent in, slowly. Tears painted your cheeks, and you bit back a sob when you spoke. "Don't you ever try and get in my head again." You seethed, tone thick with pure hatred. "Or I'll find a way into yours." Hesitating, Draco finally opened his mouth to speak, but you withdrew, storming out of his sight and the bathroom with a harsh slam of the door. He could only stand back upright, still struggling to get his breathing back to a comfortable pace. The agony of the memory lingered in his veins, tinged with guilt. He was completely unsure if he'd managed to fix things for himself, or brought on an entirely new problem. It didn't take him long to decide it was most likely the latter.

[ghost-ghost-baby]

Talk to me // Dabi x Tomura x Reader soulmate au // (poly)

a/n: look,,,, im not gonna lie i had to split this bc i wasn’t sure if i wanted the next part to b angst heavy or smut heavy. or both. so enjoy! warnings: angstish,,, self harm mention,,, yandere themes,,,, i think thats it???  requests: open 

The world hated you, that was it. Was it because of how you used your quirk? Quite possibly, you’d turned to a villains life without batting an eye, hadn’t you? Still, you didn’t think that meant you deserved this. You’d joined the league a month ago, Toga had bugged you until you gave in, it’s not like you had anything better to do. It’d been good, for about a day, and then like your life always seemed to do, it went to shit. Dabi and Shigaraki had come back, all over each other which was frankly what you’d expected from what Toga told you. You couldn’t really blame them, they were soulmates, you were kinda happy for them at first, until they’d spoken to you. 

“You must be Toga’s friend.” 

“You’re not what I was expecting.” 

Words had burned through your soul, you’d been waiting to hear those words since you were sixteen, and now this- this was happening? You hadn’t spoken, not wanting them to know, only nodding before you’d turned back to Toga. 

Luckily you could avoid them with relative ease, you didn’t live at the base, you had a nice apartment all to yourself that you loved. You’d worked hard for it, it was your home. And right now you missed it more than you thought possible. You could be curled up in bed with a drink… maybe some weed, but no, instead you were on some bullshit mission with Dabi. Well, technically the mission was finished, you were walking back now. He hadn’t pressed you to talk, him and Shigaraki just… thought you didn’t at this point.

“So, what’s with you and avoiding me and Tomura.” Dabi’s words had you freezing in place, biting your tongue until you tasted blood.

“I mean, it’s kinda obvious, you’re friends with everyone except us, and I want to know what you’re hiding.” You grit your teeth, you were almost back at the base, Toga was waiting for you and you could-

“Hey, stop being such a bitch!” Dabi hissed, hand clamping around your arm and making you yelp. Your eyes locked on his, mouth still shut tight and worry pounding through your veins. His grip tightened and you winced, sharp pain followed b a warmth that could only mean-

“What the fuck?” Dabi didn’t pull his hand back, staring at the blood that soaked through your shirt, coating his fingers and revealing something you’d managed to keep hidden for years. Fucking dumbass, he should have left you alone. 

“Y/n, is-”

“Fuck off, Dabi. I know what I’m doing.” You hissed, wrenching your arm away and bolting to the nearest club, he’d never go there. 

The club was higher end than you’d usually go, but heroes came here and you were betting on that to hide you. 

“There you are Y/n! Ths place was so hard to find!” Toga slid into the booth next to you, happily grabbing the drink you’d gotten for her. 

“Yeah, but no one we know comes here.” You were already on your second drink, although your friend seemed determined to catch up. 

“Good point Y/n! You were always so smart!”

“Shhhh, Toga we don’t wanna wake anyone up!” You whispered, hand covering your mouth to muffle your laughter. It was almost four am, everyone else was sleeping and you and Toga had decided to go back to the base after realizing there was no way you’d be able to make it your apartment. You made it to her room without incident, thank god, closing the door before the two of you dissolved into giggles. 

“God, we haven’t done this in ages!” Toga sat on the bed, you following without a moment of hesitation. 

“It’s been too long.” You agreed, lazy grin overtaking your face as you leant forward. Toga’s face mirrored yours, she’d always been good at picking up your moods, and her hands wound around your neck as you kissed her. You pushed her down on the bed, god her lips were so soft, hands trailing over her to try and get her clothes off. Toga was just as desperate, her fangs dragging along your lips and you weren’t even surprised when you felt a knife rip through your clothes. 

“You owe me another pair of jeans Toga.” Your tone was light, briefly pulling away before you focused on her neck.

“I always pay you back Y/n, you know that.” Her hands pulled off the shreds of your clothes, fabric littering the bed around you. You nodded,, lidded eyes fixed on Toga as you settled between her legs, pushing her skirt up and hooking your fingers on the band of her underwear. 

“What the fuck are you two doing?” Shigaraki hissed, and you couldn’t help but turn, eyes looking him and Dabi over. 

“You’re welcome to join.” You smirked, watching him tremble at the words. 

“Dabi, grab them.” He turned and left, leaving you with Toga and Dabi.

“You guys wanna have a threesome?” You joked, too drunk to grasp the situation as Dabi scoffed, tugging you up by your wrist. 

“Okay so that’s a no… just lemme grab a shir-”

“God you’re stupid.” Dabi shook his head, covering you in his jacket before scooping you up.

“Okay, easy there big boy, have you see-seen my quirk? I’m great.” You slurred, head too heavy to do anything except fall to Dabi’s shoulder.

“Whatever you say.”

“What the fuck happened last night?” You groaned as sunlight hit your face, hand pushing your hair out of your face. You weren’t in your apartment, and you were wearing someone else’s shirt. 

“God not again, I hope my pants are around…” You pushed the covers off, thankful the shirt was big enough to fall past mid thigh. 

“What’re you doing?”

“Looking for my- Dabi?” You jumped back, arms crossing over your chest. “Oh this is bad, I knew I was shitty but I’ve never gone for taken people… I really need to lay off the booze.” You mumbled, hand coming up to rub at the back of your neck. 

“We didn’t sleep together. However, you did come home plastered at four am, and Tomura and I had to stop you fucking Toga and bring you back here. You passed out.” Dabi’s voice was cold and you frowned. Feelings warred for dominance, the strongest being the fact they had no business who you slept with, you weren’t theirs. 

“Okay, good to know. I’m gonna go uh, find some clothes and ask Kurogiri to warp me back home.” 

“I don’t think so. Tomura was crushed last night, and he doesn’t want you leaving the base.”

“Excuse me? Fuck that Dabi, I’m fucking going.” 

“No, you’re not. We’re gonna wait for him to get back, and when that happens we’re all gonna sit down and have a nice little chat.” 

You’d never been in a situation this tense, Dabi was standing by the door and you were left on the bed, trying to cover as much as you could with one shirt. You could have sworn there was an anxiety rash on the back of your neck, and your fingers were itching to find something sharp. Your nails had been getting long, maybe you could-

“Don’t even think about using your quirk.” You startled, eyes jumping up to meet red ones. You’d never seen Shigaraki this mad before. It was… kinda hot you had to admit. 

“Look, Shigaraki, Dabi, I really don’t see the big-”

“How long have you been hiding this from us?” Shigaraki’s voice was cold, hands twitching by his side.

“Uh well… since you guys spoke to me, I guess. You already had a good thing going and I didn’t wanna… screw it up.” 

“That wasn’t your choice to make.”

“Yeah, well, I made it anyway.” You were already getting defensive, walls and masks flying back up before you could do anything.

“We’ve been waiting for you for years, brat. How the fuck could you not say anything, you’re our-”

“I’m not yours, actually, and now if you don’t mind, I’m going to find Toga. She owes me some pants.” You were pushed down as soon as you stood up, when had Shigaraki gotten that close? 

“What the fu-” You went silent as Shigaraki clipped a bracelet around your wrist, hands surprisingly gentle and you wanted to crawl out of your skin when his fingers brushed up against your scars.

“Don’t touch me.” You hissed, arm pulled back as though it had burned. In a way it had, it was too much. 

“Don’t talk to him like that.” Dabi finally spoke, you’d forgotten about him, actually. Wow, you really were a shitty soulmate.

“We can touch you as much as we like, you’re our soulmate.”

“Shigaraki, look-”

“Call me Tomura.” 

“Shiga-”

“Do you really wanna finish that sentence?” Hands grabbed onto your legs and you shut your eyes, waiting for his quirk to kill you, only to be able to open your eyes a second later, still alive.

“Huh?”

“The bracelet makes you immune to my quirk, Dabi has one too.” 

“Keep in mind, your bracelet also cancels your quirk, until we can trust you.” 

“Okay, I’m out.” You shook your head, trying to push Tomura off of you. 

“You haven’t even given us a chance. We’ve been dreaming of finding you since our words appeared and you won’t even give us a chance?” You were caught off guard at that, you’d never seen those red eyes look sad. 

“I uh, it’s not you guys, it’s me! I’m just… really a lot to handle, and uh… you guys seemed so happy I just didn’t wanna mess anything up?” You trailed off as the pair exchanged a look. That couldn’t be good, honestly you couldn’t see it ending up well for you. 

“Well if that’s all,”

“We’ll just have to show you how important you are to us.”

Great, they finished each other sentences. You were certainly in for a treat. 

“It’s no big deal, you guys really don’t-”

“You obviously need our help, need us. Did you know staying away from your soulmate for long periods of time declines your mental state?” Dabi scoffed despite walking over to the bed, letting his hand rest on Tomura’s shoulder. 

Okay, you didn’t know that, and it must’ve shown on your face. Tomura reached out, hand cupping your face, and you didn’t know if you liked the way it burned. 

“We’re gonna have so much fun.”

[ziotsu]

time to write out literally all my thoughts as someone who can’t read Japanese!

I actually saw the first few pages when people were posting them because apparently the first half of the chapter comes out the second week? I didn’t post my thoughts cause I wanted to do them all at the same time

Page 1! Well this is fun, I absolutely love the expressions in this manga (I feel like me going on about the art in this manga is going to be a theme lol). But the subtle differences between how Ashiya looks and how he looks when Sakae is controlling him are amazing. And it isn’t just the eye color, but just everything with how Sakae acts and carries himself (face included) really is awesome. And it doesn’t feel like just slapping a new face on Ashiya’s body, I genuinely can see Ashiya making this expression when Sakae isn’t possessing him (if he wasn’t such a cinnamon roll). Also the shock on Abeno’s face is not something we see too often. He has his normal shocked face but this feels more raw than in the past? Like his eyes seem wider and the way his hair is makes it seem like he basically just did a double take. MMMMMMMMMM this is good shit. But story wise, I assume this page is just restating the fact that you really don’t wanna use influence on a parasitic shrub possessed demon.

Page 2 and 3! Abeno know’s what’s up, or at least it seems so. It would be more surprising if he didn’t tbh. Also I wonder if Sakae kind of knew this was going to happen? Considering he was trying to keep them away, I assume he did. At the very least he does not seem shocked at all to see Aoi like that at all. Speaking of Aoi, they are def trapped where they are at. That whole is well large enough for them to get through and attack them again, but they are still on the ground it seems. I am guessing it has to do with the tree we saw coming from their tail last chapter. They are still 110% mad though.

3-4! It looks like it isn’t just the trees that are keeping Aoi down, I thought the roots attaching the main body to the ground had been ripped up but it looks like there are some remaining. Sakae is as gentle as ever, yes just toss away his injured arm, great idea. Now Abeno is in even more pain. The wound though is really deep, looks like two large gashes, which Sakae actually starts to dress (rest in peace, kimono sleeve) (also while abeno is trying to get his arm out of the inner kimono (idk what is is called), we can see the medicine Abeno always carries around! I love the attention to detail in this manga)

5-6! Yup, page 5 doesn't do it justice, but page six really shows the extent of the damage one of the gashes did. Super nasty scar going to go there. We see some more of Aoi though, and do they chirp? Like what cats do? Cause murder cat looks super cute on page 5 and I don’t know how to feel about this.

They look like baby here and I want to protect them. Abeno seems to be bringing up the medicine, though I really don’t know what this would do to Aoi other than basically kill them. Which honestly, may be for the best? I know it’s a bit messed up, but it has been stated before that they are obviously past the point of getting them help, and leaving them there would be super dangerous.

7-8! I am making another assumption that Sakae doesn’t know what the medicine does. Which I have a current theory that the medicine is a new development for the underworld. (if such a medicine existed before Aoi left, why wouldn’t they use it on them?) Which would also mean that Sakae wouldn’t know about it either. My guess from the last pages seem to be correct as there is a panel showing Aoi burning, which seems pretty deathy to me. I honestly don’t know what they are going to do, though I think for now, they should be getting back, reporting the situation and getting help for themselves. Aoi seems really stuck here so I don’t think they are a direct threat to the underworld immediately. (Unless Aoi manages to escape the island and oh boy that would not be good) Abeno seems pretty determined, though, so regardless Aoi is most likely going to meet their actual end.

9-10! Aoi is starting to go to sleep here, Sakae seems really good at first aid (wonder where/why he learned that ;) Maybe a certain lady who often gets sick?) Not a whole lot happens, I think these are mostly showing the passage of time, and it seems Abeno is putting away the medicine for now. Which good move, my boy. Come back to take care of murder cat later. Also I wonder if all those trees are from Aoi’s parasitic shrub. That would be terrifying if that is the case. It could really show how long they have been there, trapped and going mad because of the shrub.

11-12! Good lord all of them are looking super cute this chapter. Sakae you can’t do this to me, just all your movements and facial expressions are justlasdkhjg;lakshjdg. Ashiya is cute in his own right, but this is a different type of cute. Why are all these characters like this and please don’t stop making all these characters like this. We get a good look at Aoi’s spine and it makes me sad (though also could give more insight to how the shrub basically takes over? Using the spinal cord to get to the brain seems like a good path to take if the shrub’s goal is to spread like any other parasite (which also makes sense with the going mad thing, kind of like rabies almost) I am glad Abeno’s arm is being supported and held still with what they had on hand. Still looks super painful though.

13-14! And they are out! At least out of the pit where they can really easily run if they need to. Sakae is starting to get tired, so I wonder how much longer he can go on? I hope he can stay awake long enough to get back to the mononokean because I highly doubt Abeno can carry an unconscious Ashiya back. He would most likely have to wait for Ashiya to wake back up before moving on and who knows how long that will take. Part of page 13 made me go back to see the last few pages, but it looks like Aoi’s front right paw is stuck in the ground :( good cause they are most likely really stuck there and probably wont be able to escape easy but it makes me sad to see the previous master of the mononokean in such a state.

15-16! Oof the tiredness is really showing in the first panel. Get out of there quick so you both can rest! I am guessing Abeno is asking about why Sakae said those things in the flower field.Like how Aoi is dead and such, and honestly did Sakae lie? Aoi, as they were in the past, is dead. They are completely over taken and do not recognize even the child they basically raised.

17-18! Oh boy Sakae is getting more and more tired, Abeno is asking about the golden butterfly and can you two just get going? Ya’ll have limited time here!!!!! Though I wonder if Sakae used his influence on one of the butterflies to communicate to Ashiya? it seems very similar? Or a butterfly made from pure influence? Which would explain how it disappeared when Ashiya grabbed it?

I am going to stop the page format because uh.... WHAT. First off Abeno was def asking about the influence/parasitic shrub thing that Sakae brought up. And WE ACTUALLY LEARN ABOUT IT NEXT CHAPTER. This is huge cause oml this feels like a rare moment. Normally mysteries like this linger for a few chapters, simmer and make us suffer. BUT WE GOT A NEW BRAND OF SUFFERING TODAY FOLKS! Like I theorized it a bit on why I didn’t think Aoi was the one Sakae used his influence on, due to thinking that Aoi being infected years before picking up Abeno seemed super dangerous and didn’t feel like something they would do. I DIDN’T KNOW YOU CAN USE INFLUENCE TO CURE THE PARASITIC SHRUB THOUGH! PAGE 22 IS SUFFERING! PAGE 22 HAS ALL THE ANSWERS! Like we now know what happened, or at least have enough facts to be able to piece it together! Aoi and Sakae went out for a job, either they find out that the demon is infected or know and are going to try to help them out. Aoi somehow gets infected by this demon and Sakae uses his influence to get rid of the growing infection only to die himself as the parasitic shrub is not meant to live in the human body. This explains why Aoi was so beat up over his death, because IT WAS THEIR FAULT. It explains why Sakae would use his influence on a demon that is infected, because it is Aoi, their employer and friend. He probably wasn’t meaning to die at all, just thinking that ‘hey let’s just get rid of this shrub from Aoi so they don’t die because they are an important part of the Underworld (though AU where Sakae can’t do this and has to become the next master of the mononokean ;) )

We also see the aftermath, it is almost like he becomes some form of demon himself, and actually looks infected with the shrub. I doubt it is the same sort of situation because he doesn’t become a tree? I am honestly unsure on how this affected him. He does go and meet his son a few months later, (wait or was that Aoi because between the two pages we see a sort of continuation with the hand on the left (aoi’s hand) but we also see the ‘veins’ of the shrub which hints towards Sakae? I like to think that Sakae visited baby Ashiya, so I am going to go with the assumption it is Sakae visiting till I am proven otherwise) and smol Ashiya is always cute. Ashiya does seem to ‘notice’ something? or he is just a baby and babies cry A LOT. We see Sakae ‘infect’ the butterfly he uses to communicate with Ashiya in the flower field. Wonder if he tried doing the same in the past with Abeno, only Abeno cannot hear his words.

ALSO GUYS I TOLD YOU TO GET OUT OF THERE NOW WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO? Ashiya is now completely passed out, Abeno cannot carry him back and now they gotta just chill there till Ashiya wakes back up. I know it is awesome to have questions answered, but please. 

Though I guess somehow they managed cause Ashiya wakes up in what I can only assume is the Legeslator’s place? It is def not the mononokean (too large and im sure we would be hearing a bell the moment Ashiya woke up) but it could be Korou’s place. Not sure how Abeno managed, but he probably found a way to get them out of there. Rip golden eyes, though :( Guess they were just either the side effect to using that much influence or a hint that Sakae was just kind of hanging around in case shit hits the fan. 

There is incense burning, making a guess this is either a preventative measure against the shrub or something to help wake Ashiya up faster. Ashiya is alone and it seems he is shaken because of what Sakae explained (I am guessing it was similar to his dreams when he subconsciously used his influence and he was dreaming about Sakae’s past)

This chapter was amazing, answered so many things and saw enough cute to really counter balance the ‘what the actual fuck’ this chapter brought along with it.

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

Malcolmnapped

@shut-up-im-jay... I love you too ;) 

“What,” JT mumbles upon seeing Malcolm has arrived for the day,” no therapy suckers?” JT frowns into his coffee, obscuring his face from Malcolm’s view. Something he does frequently, Malcolm’s come to understand it’s protective. JT doesn’t mean to alienate Malcolm so much as keep him at bay. Remove certain things from Malcolm’s ‘mind-reading’ eyes. “It’s Thursday, isn’t?” There is a hint of worry. The implication that if Malcolm doesn’t have suckers then he hasn’t gone to therapy. Fear… strange enough, JT has a small amount of fear for Malcolm. He hopes there’s another explanation. 

Malcolm nods him an affirmation, pressing a sucker into JT’s hand. Even offering a small explanation,” I accidentally grabbed two cherries.” As a means of clearing up why JT has a red-covered sucker instead of his usual. Not that flavors matter while JT’s brain is trying to cover and distort his concern. Luckily, Malcolm doesn’t think much of the weird glances from JT anymore.

He’s in content and safe with them. Until he’s not.

“You good?”

Malcolm schools his features, smiling as his left-hand cramps painfully around the strangely conducted letter he has just found on his desk. ‘To my greatest love’ it was dedicated. The words strangely loving but his name was attached at the bottom, ‘I love you, my dearest Malcolm’. “Me?” He shoves the paper into one of the already too full drawers of his desk. He motions a waving motion,” always.”

Dani glances at JT but her old partner is already tucking himself behind his desk, unconcerned now that his suspicions have been disproven. The kids going to therapy, that’s good enough for him. Dani sees through Malcolm’s ploy, his voice too assured. “Right,” she clears her throat. “Gil wants us all in the conference room. Edrisa’s got something.”

They always come on Thursdays. It’s a pattern, one he can only suspect and roll over in his mind by himself. He doesn’t dare air it to the others. He can only imagine the soft, playful smile JT will give him. He’ll brush it off, tell him to turn that profiling brain off for a minute. Give it a rest. Dani will give him sad eyes but she’ll probably reassure him it’s probably nothing. 

And it probably is nothing so he brushes it off.

There are six half-ruined letters in his desk drawer when he starts to feel watched.

“What’re you looking for?” 

Malcolm flinches, so caught in his self made fear that he lost contact with his surroundings. “Uh,” he scratches his cheek, hair growing where he hasn’t shaved in several days. “Just thought I heard something,” he shrugs, a small smile forcing its way on to his cheeks. He glances behind himself again, forcing his eyes forward after to stop further worrying Dani or JT who have both noticed now his odd behavior. 

But he’s Malcolm and they’re always secretly worried.

“He’s late.”

Dani looks up from her work, looking at her dimmed computer screen. She can hear the clear distress in JT’s voice and she finds he’s right. “It’s only two,” Dani tries to reason,” he can still come in.” Except, they’ve got an active case and it’s Thursday which means Malcolm should have been in hours ago. She stands from her desk and JT is right behind her, both of them making their way to Gil.

“Hey-”

Gil is on the phone, mouth twisted into a frown. He hangs up,” that was Jessica.” He looks at the two of them and it becomes abundantly clear what they are barging into his office for. “No word from Bright?”

JT shakes his head,” radio silence since he left early yesterday.”

Gil runs a hand over his goatee, fingers trailing through the peppered hair. “That’s not good.”

-------------

He wakes up in the dark. 

He’s an adult so it would be safe to assume that is how he wakes up most nights. However, he learned years ago that having a nightlight may be childish but it’s also helpful. The complete lack of light is his first sign that something is not right.

The next is the way his mouth tastes, like drugs. He struggles to clear his throat, his throat raw.

A light overhead it suddenly clicked on, a woman descending stairs he wasn’t able to see in the dark.

“What did you give me?” Malcolm tries not to let his fear overpower his ability to think clearly. Fear, he’s starting to realize, isn’t his only danger. His arm throbs where she stuck the syringe in and his profiler brain concludes she isn’t a nurse but his civilian brain is freaking out. 

She smiles sweetly,” just something to calm you down.” She points to his hands, both trembling with the full effects of his nerves,” there’s no need for you to be so nervous, sweetheart. I love you. You’re safe.”

Malcolm squints in the low light, attempting to put a face to the woman. She looks vaguely familiar like someone he’s seen in the mall or at a shop. Obviously, he did something to attract her attention but he can’t think of a single thing he’s done to ‘wow’ anyone lately. Last week, he tripped and spilled tea on some poor barista. Two days ago he ran into a display at some store Ainsely pulled him through. 

“How,” Malcolm pauses to think about how he wants to word his question. “How did we meet?”

She smiles softly and Malcolm thanks his lucky stars that at least she’s not hostile. “The coffee shop, silly.” 

He didn’t spill the tea on her, that girl was brunette and short. So…

“I was behind you in line,” she is clearly waiting for him to connect the dots. Mercifully, she grins and retells the romantic adventure that brought them together. “I dropped my credit card and, you being such a gentleman, you picked it up for me.” She places a hand over her heart,” I just knew. You smiled at me and I knew you needed me to save you.” She motions around them,” so I did!”

“Right,” Malcolm agrees. “Can-Can you unlock me then?” Her immediate reaction sends a spike of fear down his chest. “I-I have sensitive skin,” he motions his head to the straps tightened just a little too tight. “It hurts.” 

She thinks for a moment but shakes her head. “I can’t trust you yet.” She winks playfully,” but don’t worry, my love. Our devotion to one another is strong, you’ll be out of those straps in no time.”

-------------

“Jesus.”

Dani keeps pulling out the letters. She’s not looking at the words, her eyes scanning through his desk drawers for all the letters addressed to ‘My Love’. By the time they have emptied his drawer, there’s a sizable pile on the top of the desk. Each one declaring this person’s undying love for Malcolm. 

They read through them, more or less able to put them in order. The first few are shy but the last ones are serious. The writer talks about ‘the curly-haired bitch’ Malcolm needs to be careful of. Warning him that ‘the bitch’ will break his heart and ruin his life. The writer escalates, threatening Gil, they call him ‘the goateed man’, and JT the ‘big idiot’. The writer offers to take care of Malcolm and through implication get rid of the others. 

“Leave it Bright to get a creepy potential killer stalker,” JT mumbles, flipping through the letters. 

-------------

He tries not to flinch each time she touches his arm. If he wants to get out of the restraints he needs to make her believe he trusts her. It’s hard. She touches him for generally no reason. She throws her head back when she laughs at a joke she’s told, hand running down his bicep. He can handle most of it but occasionally her hand brushes his jaw.

“What’s wrong?”

He’s trying hard to swallow his panic but after all this time he knows what his symptoms mean. Rather than pushing down his flinch, he pulls away from the hand she places on his knee. He wraps his body around himself as well as he can, counting in his head. 

“Malcolm?”

She’s genuinely worried, which is thoughtful but she’s to blame for his current anxiety attack. 

Tears squeeze out of the corner of his eyes, his chest impossibly tight.

“It’s okay.” There’s a sharp sting on his bicep and cool pain spreads in his veins. Drugs. “I know how to fix this.”

He blinks heavily, too familiar with the effects of sedatives for the ones she’s just used to work their full effect immediately. “You don’t love me,” he whispers. Her hand still drags down his jaw, gently lifting it so his eyes are forced to meet hers. “You don’t even know me.”

-------------

“It’s a phone number.”

Everyone glances up, Edrisa’s soft voice catching them off guard. She points to the digits they ruled out. They knew they weren’t for an address but they didn’t look like a phone number. There was no area code. There weren’t enough digits.

“It can’t be.”

Edrisa shakes her head and points to another letter, a single line. “No, it probably is. See?” She reads out a line vaguely referring to how the writer and Malcolm met. “They met in a shop, probably the one Malcolm goes to when he gets us coffee.” She pushes the paper across the table to Gil when he crooks a curious eyebrow. “So, she’s probably from the area, like Malcolm and us.”

JT shakes his head in disbelief,” you’re really on your A-game, aren’t you?”

Edrisa blushes,” I mean, I didn’t solve it. You still have to find him.”

-------------

Malcolm’s stomach cramps painfully. He isn’t hungry in the least but Becca, as he learned her name was, managed to force-feed him several spoon fulls of soup. Helpfully adding she knows about his sensitive stomach. He couldn’t spare the nerve to tell her that the Campbell’s tomato soup she gave him would upset his stomach more than anything else she could have selected.

She left him after he struggled with a fourth bite, frustrated. Leaving him to vomit in the dark, acidic soup burning his throat as it makes its way back up.

“Kid!”

Malcolm’s heart speeds up, his eyes frantically looking in the dark around him for the owner of the voice. Despite only knowing the detective a few short months, hearing the other man’s voice brings a rush of relief. “JT?” He pulls against the restraints, the sound of the metal loud enough to cue JT in the right direction.

“Bright!” JT stumbles into the room and he can hear the presence of another person but he can’t see past his own hand. “Bright, man, if you’re in here you better tell me because Gil or Dani will kill me if I accidentally shoot your dumbass.” There’s a rustle in the corner and JT fumbles with his left hand for the flashlight in his pocket, fingers scaling over it. He can’t find it.

“JT?” A soft voice calls and JT knows it’s Malcolm. “I-I’m not sure if you’re actually here or if-”

A soft click sounds through the room and JT directs his flashlight at Malcolm, both of them letting out similar sighs of relief. “Kid,” JT clears the room quickly, aiming the flashlight at the corners of the room before making his way to Malcolm. “It’s good to see you.”

Malcolm sags bone-tired into JT, letting the other man shoulder his weight. “I thought…” his voice trails off. He didn’t think they would be able to find him. He clears his throat, attempting to push away his blind fears. “W-Will you tell me what the J stands for now?”

JT chuckles softly but shakes his head. He pulls away, glancing over Malcolm and eyes momentarily shifting the small puddle of watery vomit. “No.” He pulls Malcolm’s hands from where they are secured to the wall behind him, unclipping the simple clasps. They look exactly like the ones Malcolm uses for bed. “After this shit?” JT shakes his head but pulls Malcolm back against him. “Man, you’re in so much trouble.”

Malcolm laughs softly, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Will you take me home,” he asks, face pushed into JT’s shoulder.

JT grits his teeth, pushing down his own tears. “Yeah, man,” he clears his throat,” of course.” Helping Malcolm to his feet, shouldering most of the kid’s weight as his legs tremble beneath him. “One thing though?” Malcolm leans heavily into him and looks questioningly up at him. “No more coffee shop girls, yeah?”

Malcolm shakes his head,” I promise.”

JT reaches up and gives Malcolm’s hair a teasing rustle,” good.”

[bakugouscentedcaramel]

Could I request some angst with a happy end? headcannons or scenarios you chose. With baku, todo and if you want (authors choice charater) where their s/o takes a big hit for then during a battle? Like they jump in the way? I hope this is ok.

Hehehehehehehe angst you say? With a happy ending you say? Why this is a recipe for an emotional rollercoaster!

I miiiight've gotten carried away with Bakubabe and Dabman dnsjskjana

WARNINGS: Fighting, blood, broken bones, medical talk, hospitals, cussing, death

Bakugou

You two were only fighting one person, so how hard could it be? Only you two were fighting for two hours straight now and the villain doesn't have a scratch on him. You were fighting some asshole who had a quirk that turned Bakugous explosions against him. Both of you were struggling to make a dent in the villains defenses.

He turned one of Katsuki's explosions against him causing you both to fly into a car.

"You two can't even take me on fully! Man! Where does UA find losers like you?!"

Shit.

If it's one thing Bakugo couldn't handle it was his anger.

"OH REALLY? Let's see how you handle a full blast from my gernades?!"

"Katsuku NO-" you ran to shove your stupid lover as far as you could.

The last thing you remember is the immense heat and the sound of your ribs snapping before you fade into unconsciousness.

Once Bakugo turned to find you his heart sank. You were laying in a puddle of blood mixed with rebar. One of the pieces stabbed your chest, and you weren't moving.

Goddamit why weren't you moving?

"Oh how sad! I didn't realize I could swat heroes like the flies they are!" The villain was reveling in the sight of you, not paying attention to Bakugo.

You opened your eyes much to your body's displeasure to see Katsuki beating the villain into the ground.

"LETS SEE YOU REDIRECT THIS?" His punch laded with a sickening crunch to the man's nose. Even though the man was unconscious he kept beating him.

"Kacchan..." You groaned as blood spilled out of your mouth and nose.

Bakugo froze and glaced back at you, shocked to see you back in the waking world, to see him beating the life out of a villain..

He dropped the man and ran to you, eyes glistening with tears. He kneeled by you scared to move your broken and bloodied body.

"W-we did it Y/N. You're gonna be fucking fine. You aren't allowed to leave me here got it dumbass?!" He reached for his GPS transmitter to get an ambulance out for you.

"H-hey, DONT YOU FUCKING BLACK OUT AGAIN. DONT FUCKING DO THIS TO ME Y/N" His desperate tone broke your heart but your body forced you to pass out again.

-

The beeping of a heart monitor is what finally woke you up. That and the sound of yelling and scuffling.

"GODDAMMIT IM FINE, LET ME SEE THEM!" Your lover burst through the door with two orderlies trying in vain to hold him back.

"Y-y/n.. y-You're finally awake!! Let me go you white coat BASTARDS" he turned to fight them off of him, adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

"Kacchan! It's fine! Stay in here with me and let them work on you.." your voice faltered with the morphine coursing through your beaten veins.

-

After the nurses left you two together he was uncharacteristically quiet.

The beeping of your monitor was deafening. The smell of disinfectant sickening. The way your lover refused to look at you, heartbreaking.

"why..." He muttered.

"Katsu, you know I couldn't let you take that full blast. Neither of us could.." you went into a coughing fit causing him to flinch with the wet sound.

"You shouldn't have done that you fucking idiot. I could've done something for you! I SHOULD'VE SAVED YOU Y/N" he cried into your bedsheets, gripping them with white knuckles that were too scared to touch your now frail body.

"Katsu.." you groaned as you moved your hand to comb through his hair which only made him weep harder.

"I'm going to be fine, Katsuki. I only have three broken ribs, a fractured femur, 18 stitches, and a mild concussion. But your crying is hurting more than all of that.. I know you'd do the same for me you idiot. The best thing we can do now is move on." You painfully flashed him that million dollar smile when he finally looked up at you.

"Y/n.. I promise this won't happen again.."

"It better not. That villains quirk relied on yours and you thought it was a good idea to go all in with explosions?" You laughed at his realization of his mega fuck up.

Midoriya

You two were out numbered and cornered. No matter how many you two managed to take down more just kept coming.

You might've misjudged how big this gang really was. They all carried some kind of weapon and of course they all have their own quirks so close combat was a last resort for you and Deku.

You both knew you had to leave and get help, the only problem was you were in a dead end alleyway and the only way out was up.

"Y/N! Be ready to jump to tha-"

It all happened in a blink of an eye. Once Izuku looked to you to tell you his plan a villain saw an opening. He was carrying a machete that seemed to break the sound barrier toward your boyfriend's neck. You grabbed Midoriyas arm with adrenaline powered force and yanked him away but your upper arm caught the blade.

That's deep.. fuck..

Izuku choked back his emotions and just flung you over you over his shoulder and used OFA to run up the wall.

The last thing you remember before succumbing to the shock and blood loss was the panic in his face and the darting of his eyes to presumably find help.

-

You woke up in a hospital bed feeling woozy. You tried to sit up only to have Izuku gently coax you to lay back down.

"Y-y/n you need to lay down, ok? We're both safe. We're in a hospital." He was trying to hold back tears at the sight.

You needed 9 deep tissue stitches and nearly 23 surface stitches and a blood transfusion.

Your arm was wrapped tightly with gauze to halt the bleeding. Now the only big worry was infection.

"Are you ok, Izuku?.." you weakly groaned as you looked for injuries on him.

"I just have some scratches and a few cuts, y-y/n-n..." He couldn't hold it any longer.

He broke down into tears as he held your hand to his cheek.

He apologized between sobs saying how he shouldn't have left himself to be so open and that he blamed himself for getting you hurt.

All you could've done was gently rub his cheek and smile reassuringly.

"Izuku, honey, we were in a rough situation. Things didn't go according to plan and we were flying blind. I wasn't about to let you take that hit." You wiped away some tears that were rolling down his cheek gingerly and pinched his cheek gently.

"Now stop crying, I feel fine."

"Sorry to interrupt, Y/N L/N." A nurse entered and fiddled with your morphine drip.

"Since you're no longer in critical condition we're taking you off morphine and on painkiller pills."

Well, you did feel fine.

Todoroki

Ragged breaths filled the air. The smell and tased of hot copper filled the air. The burning pain in your abdomen hit you suddenly as you buckled over in pain.

You two were just out shopping for the holidays and a mugger thought to hold you two up, but panicked and pulled the trigger.

"I-I didn't mean to shoot her!!" The man backed away frantically looking for an escape route from your bi-colored lover. His flames burned hot into the alleyway openings, swirling with a lively anger. His ice created spike walls who were seemingly unfazed by the inferno surrounding it.

The gunshot wound paired with the temperature change forced your body to shut down and hit the ground.

-

You woke up to Todoroki giving you a piggyback to the nearest hospital. His pace jogging to prevent further injury but still rushing you to help.

"Sh-oto.." you could feel the blood pooling on the back of his shirt.

"Don't say anything Y/N, we're almost to a hospital!"

Bystanders stared at you two causing you to realize the gravity of the situation.

"Are you ok, Shoto..."

"Yes, but we're still going to the ER. Goddamit." He growled at his own panic as the hospital doors slid open.

Nurses and doctors rushed over asking questions to which, Todoroki only gave short chopped answers. When someone tried getting you off his back he couldn't help but squeeze you harder and prevent them from taking you away from him, but his senses came back and helped you on a gurney.

He couldn't even answer the other nurses questions as he watched them rush you to the OR wing.

-

"-sure to make her drink fluids and soft foods for two weeks. Her bandages need to be changed twice daily and her wound needs to be rinsed with hydrogen peroxide for each bandage change." The white robed man lectured Todoroki who was just staring at a jar.

He only noticed you were awake when the doctor left the room and you shifted slightly.

"How are you feeling." He hid the jar on the floor and tried to keep his eyes focused on yours and not the bindings on your stomach.

"I've been better. Although.. I do feel better than that time we had dinner with your father."

He couldn't help but chuckle at your joke. Jokes were a good sign.

"You we're right Y/n, the bullet missed every organ and major artery, but it got stuck in your hip bone."

"I told you Shoto" you grinned at him to try to make him relax a bit more. You could tell he was still tunnel visioned by the way his eyes continuously glanced at the floor.

"Did they let you keep the bullet?" He shot his eyes up at you and debating on answering.

"Well, let's see it!" You were gleaming which finally made his brain relax.

You two were safe.

Dabi

Of course Dabi just had to start a bar fight.

Some lowlife dude was supposedly eyeing you like a piece of meat, according to Dabi. So what did he do? Slammed his head into the mahogany table promptly breaking his nose. Which then made the people who were with him want to fight, which cause other people to get caught in the crossfire, which sparked an all out brawl.

Dabi was never the smartest, but he was the most protective person you've ever seen. And he loved showing you how powerful he was.

But when he threw some poor son of a bitch out of the window, one of his buddies put you in a headlock.

You struggled against his grip but stopped once you saw him holding a chunk of glass to your throat.

"Dabi!" You cried out when he added a bit of pressure to your neck. You could feel your heartbeat push the glass slightly.

His eyes were transfixed on the sight before him.

"Tch, what a pussy move, threatening a man's girl." He sounded calm but you knew he was fuming, hell you could see smoke forming in his palms.

"Stay back or I'll fucking slit her pretty little throat, zombie!" The man was terrified of your boyfriend, you could tell by the way his hands was shaking.

Dabi held his hands to his sides and slowly brought them up to his head.

"Alright, you got me. Though it is pretty pathetic to grab a chick. We we're all just having a nice little bar fight, but, whatever."

Dabi watched your hand slowly reach for your back pocket and smirked.

"All of your friends are either dead, unconscious, or ran away. You're all alone here. If you just let her go I'll let you run too."

"SHUT THE HELL UP, FREAK!" The man tightened his grip and slid the glass slightly against your throat causing blood to trickle down to your collar.

He shuffled you both closer to the exit still holding a firm grip on you.

"If you just let her go you can leave. Don't be stupid." Dabi reached for a cigarette that was on the table causing the man to focus on his hand. Dabi sure was making a fine distraction.

Your lovers blue flames lit the cigarette tip causing the man to start to lose his mind.

"Don't fucking use your quirk or she dies! You hear me fucker?! One wrong move and she's fuckin-"

You finally made your move and shoved your switchblade into his side causing him to drop the glass and stumble backwards. You grabbed him in the same fashion he did to you and placed your blade on his neck.

You and Dabi made eye contact and he smirked at your power play. With one swift motion you slit his throat. He crawled towards the door before he collapsed, gasping through a malfunctioned windpipe.

"It takes about thirty seconds for the human body to bleed out through their jugular. Enjoy the next 23 seconds." You walked towards a table and grabbed a napkin to stop your own bleeding.

Dabi let out a long whistle, "damn babe, what took you so long. You could've gotten real hurt there. I don't think I could live on without your cookin'." He made his way over to you, stepping over bodies and broken glass.

"Let me take a look." He peeled your hand away from your neck and cleaned it up a bit to get a better look. He growled softly and heated his finger up.

"Hold still baby, I promise I'll be gentle." He smirked and started to cauterize the slit. You were in pain sure but his seemingly fire filled eyes kept you entranced.

"Any deeper and you would've had to borrow some of my staples, hot stuff."

Despite his flirty nature he was scared.

When you two got back to your shared apartment he trapped you in your own bed by laying on top of you. He kissed the opposite side of your neck and made his way to your chest.

"Man, I'm the luckiest son of a bitch.."

[caelesjjk]

Hellion (Demon!Ashton)

Hello sweet babies. This is the beginning of a supernatural series I’m going to be writing. The worlds are going to intertwine a bit, and you’ll see how thats going to work :)) I loved writing this so much and I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I do. It’s 9k words that im very proud of.

warnings: a bit of violence but thats about it, a small mention of alcohol use

Ivy Jane was what most people would consider a prodigy.

She began her career as an artist at the young age of 14. She painted, sculpted, welded, and drew like nothing anyone had ever seen. It didn’t seem possible for someone so young to have perfected their talent in such a short span of time. But she seemed to be the exception.

She sold her pieces for large amounts of money, far more money than any teenager should be able to get their hands on. But she was alone, thrown into the system as a toddler when she could no longer be cared for. She hated not having anyone to share her money with, but her success pulled her out of foster care and into her own penthouse high above New York City where her manager cared for her, or at least kept her alive so she could continue making him money. Richard was the closest thing she had to family.

But what no one knew was how Ivy Jane became such a good artist. When she was asked this question by interviewers, she simply played it off on her dark past and that she was projecting all of her teen angst into the art. But dark was only one word one might use to describe her past.

Ivy Jane made a deal. Not the type you make with a pinky promise, no this was the type of deal you made with blood. The type of deal that you make at a crossroads. The type that requires you to sell your soul to a handsome devil dressed in all black clothes. He makes 10 years sound like you’ve got all the time in the world.

“Come on then, sweetheart. What else do you need to know?” The demon asked. He was tall with broad shoulders and perfectly shaped lips.

“What happens after ten years?” Ivy asked.

“Your soul is mine, and you’ll be on your merry way to hell. But, as part of this deal I can come to you at any time for a favor.” He picks at his fingernails as if he’s bored to death.

“A favor?” She asks.

“Yes. And you’ll comply, or the deal is void and you’ll go straight to the pits with no questions asked.” He steps around her, his unhuman movements too quick for Ivy to follow, as he is suddenly about 10 feet away from her, sitting on one of the low branches of a tall oak tree.

“What’s it like in hell?” Ivy asks yet another question, driving the demon crazy.

“Listen, sweetheart, I don’t have all night. Either you take the deal or you don’t. Either way your choice isn’t going to hurt my nonexistent feelings.” He rolls his red eyes and lounges against the trunk of the tree.

She didn’t want to go back to that foster home. All she wanted was to be a famous artist, and in her fourteen year old mind, ten years of that was better than any amount of time in foster care.

“Okay.” She finally sighed. “You’ve got a deal.” Ivy put her hand out to shake his.

“Tsk tsk, sweetheart. That’s not how these things work.” The demon jumps down from the tree, his red hair that matched his eyes shining in the moonlight. He grabs her hand flipping it over so that her palm is facing upwards. “This deal requires blood.” He pulls out what appears to be a pocket knife, its silver and decorated intricately. And before she can protest, he’s slicing it across her palm, making her flinch from the pain.

Ivy can feel the blood pooling in her palm and dripping between the spaces of her fingers. The demon keeps hold of her hand, pulling out his contract and pressing her palm against it. After her blood has soaked into the paper, he throws the contract up into the air just as it bursts into flames and disappears behind a puff of smoke.

“That’s it? What now?” She asks.

“So many questions.” He rolls his eyes again and begins to walk to the center of the crossroads. “Don’t forget about my favor, Ivy Jane.” He drops his eye in a wink and then disappears. It happens so quickly that Ivy isn’t even sure she really saw him standing there at all.

Her fame began as quickly as she hoped it would. A painting that she had posted online, was suddenly getting the attention of millionaire art collectors. She had people begging for her work faster than she could create it. She thrived on the feeling of being wanted by so many people.

Richard, her manager, scooped her up and managed everything she was too busy to take care of herself. She was the most sought after artist for several years. But then everything stopped almost as quickly as it had started. She was lucky if she could sell enough to feed herself. Ivy had to move out of her penthouse and into a one bedroom apartment in much dingier part of the city. It was always impossibly noisy, making it impossible to work on anything new. Everything was falling apart even before her ten years was up and she had no idea why.

Ivy saw the demon now and then. He mostly haunted her dreams, but sometimes she would see his face in a crowd or on a random billboard as she rode the bus through the city, always making sure that she didn’t forget about him. But no matter how many times she asked, he never told her why her fame had suddenly stopped.

She was a mess, to say the least. She had turned to alcohol and practically drank herself into oblivion every night just to make life seem a little less shitty. But it didn’t matter what she did, she always woke up in the same hellhole apartment filled with half painted canvases and ashtrays filled with cigarette butts.

Tonight, Ivy found herself in the bar just around the corner from her apartment building. It was filled with smoke and the smell of cheap whiskey. She could hear the clanging of pool balls as they were hit around the tables. But she was currently having a hard time seeing straight after the bottle of vodka she had been nursing the past couple hours was suddenly half empty. The clear liquid burned her throat after each drink, but she didn’t care.

When she tried to stand up from the barstool, she stumbled and knocked over a few drinks of the people sitting beside her at the bar. Ivy didn’t stop to apologize and just kept walking towards the bathroom. She wanted to wash her face and try to sober up before she attempted to walk home.

The sink was disgusting and covered in grime and motorcycle grease, but Ivy turned on the cold water and started splashing it on her face. It wasn’t really helping at all. She straightened up slowly, closing one eye and trying to see herself in dingy old piece of glass that was being used as a mirror. And in her drunken haze, she could have sworn she saw someone in the mirror behind her. She spun around, almost falling over in the process, to see no one there. Alcohol must have been playing tricks on her tonight, but when she turned to look in the mirror he was there again, the demon, propped against the door of one of the empty stalls. This time when she spun around, he didn’t disappear, he only smiled wickedly as fear washed over her entire body.

“I see you’re doing well, sweetheart.” He stands up straight, disappearing momentarily and then reappearing right next to Ivy. “I’ve missed you.” He whispers against the shell of her ear, making her shiver uncontrollably.

“My ten years isn’t up for 6 months asshole, what the hell has been going on?” Her voice shakes a bit when she tries to back away from him.

“Whatever do you mean?” He pretends to be innocent with a smile on his face.

“No one’s bought a piece of art from me for years. Your end of the deal isn’t holding up.” Ivy stumbles a bit, reaching out to balance against the cold red bricks of the wall. She uses her arm to try and wipe the water and sweat from her face onto her leather jacket.

“I said I would make you a famous artist. I didn’t say I would make people want to buy your work or that your work would be any good. The fact that you’re washed up, isn’t my problem.” He waves her off and slowly walks around her.

“That…that’s not fair. You cheated me out of my entire life!” Ivy can feel the anger coursing through her veins and her hands ball into fists.

“You’ve spent the last nine and half years of your life as pathetically as possible. You travelled from city to city and did nothing with your time. Blaming me for your shit decisions, is just an excuse sweetheart.” His voice is deep and serious as he watches her through his round frame sunglasses.

Ivy hated knowing there was a small part of what he said that was right. She had gotten to a certain point in her life where she relied on the deal they had made to get her through, thinking that nothing could screw it up. But making her a decent human being wasn’t part of the deal. She chose to drink and party and let herself and her talent waste away. What kind of person trusts a demon anyways?

“So why are you here now?” She manages to choke out, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Remember that favor?” He wets his lips and pushes back some of his hair that had fallen on his forehead. Ivy’s stomach twisted but she nods ‘yes’. “I’ve come to collect on it, sweetheart.”

“What kind of favor are we talking about?” Ivy hiccupped, still half-drunk, but less than she was before she came in here.

“I need you to help me get to something. Something that I can’t get to on my own.” He continues to walk around her in a circle that is almost dizzying.

“There’s something the big bad demon can’t get by himself?” She hiccups again with a laugh.

“It’s Ashton, doll. Start calling me that.” He finally stops in front of her, looking over the rim of his dark sunglasses.

“You have a name?” Ivy starts to wobble on her feet, feeling dizzy.

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I?” Ashton says.

“I don’t feel so good.” She stumbles forward into Ashton’s chest, but he doesn’t move.

“Ridiculous human. Let’s get you home then.” Ashton grabs Ivy by the waist and hoists her over his shoulder.

She’s too drunk to protest, so she closes her eyes and lets him carry her out of the bar. Ivy can feel the crisp fall air of New York City practically hit her in the face just before she completely passes out in the arms of a demon.

___________________________________

The next morning, or maybe it was afternoon, Ivy slowly opened her eyes. The sunlight pouring in through the sheer white curtains, stinging her eyes and making her squint to try and see around the room. She couldn’t remember much, but there were definitely some weird things happening in her dreams last night. When she tries to sit up, her head starts to spin and the room starts to tilt.

“Fucking hell.” She says to herself.

“Not quite, sweetheart.” His voice comes from the doorway, making Ivy jump practically halfway across her bed.

“You…You’re actually here?” She breathes.

“Do we really need to go through all of this again? You owe me a favor, Ivy Jane. And I’m here to collect on it. End of story.” He walks into the room, leaning across the bed balancing one hand against the mattress and the other holding out a glass of water. Ivy flinches away at first. “I’m not going to bite, sweetheart. We barely know each other.” He smiles wickedly, the dimples in his cheeks showing in a way that made Ivy’s whole face heat up.

“I suppose there’s no way I’m getting out of this?” Ivy sighs, taking the glass of water and putting it to her lips. He watches with fascination as she drinks every drop. “What are you looking at?” She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Human essentials interest me. All the things you require to function are kind of pathetic.” He sits on the edge of the bed and watches Ivy’s nose scrunch up in confusion.

“What did you say your name was again?” She shakes her head and rubs at her temples.

“Ashton.” He replies, eyes never leaving her.

“Are you going to stare at me like this all day or?” Ivy pulls the blankets up higher on her body. Ashton scoffs.

“We have a very long trip ahead of us. I suggest you shower and pack a bag.” Ashton stands up from the bed and starts to walk back towards the doorway.

“A trip? You aren’t serious?” Ivy laughs a little, nervousness evident in the sound.

“I’ll get you some food. Take a shower, you smell like a biker bar.” Ashton smirks before walking out of Ivy’s room. Ivy quietly mocks his instructions when he’s out of sight. “I can still see you, sweetheart.” Ashton says from the kitchen.

“Fucking demon.” She grumbles, flinging the blankets off of her body and standing up off the bed to stretch her dehydrated muscles.

“Heard that too.” Ashton says.

“Can you turn off your super demon hearing so I can bitch about you in peace?” Ivy shouts as she enters her bathroom and closes the door. Her back presses to it and her eyes close. She had no idea what she was in for, or what she had gotten herself into but there was no taking it back. She made a deal with a crossroads demon that could never be undone.

_________________________________

“Rome?! As in Rome, Italy?! That’s where we’re going?!” Ivy whisper shouted at Ashton as they walked swiftly through the airport.

“Is there any other? Do try to keep up, sweetheart. We’re in a hurry.” Ashton’s long legs allow him to move in much faster strides than Ivy as she struggles with her suitcase and carryon bag.

“Why me?” She suddenly asks, coming to a halt. Ashton stops, turning on his heel to walk back towards Ivy.

“Because you belong to me, understand?” He says through gritted teeth.

“Don’t you have other contracts? Someone else you could get to do your bitch work?” Ivy stands her ground and doesn’t back away from him.

“Of course I do. But I prefer to torture you and only you, Ivy Jane. Now move your pretty ass, and get it onto this plane, yeah?” Ashton takes off his round frame sunglasses and looks down at her.

“Why aren’t your eyes red?” She asks, ignoring the ass comment. They were a newly gorgeous green color, one that reminded Ivy of the soft moss that covers the rocks in the woods. She didn’t hate looking at them when they were this color.

“I swear, you ask more questions than any other human.” He grumbles.

“It’s a gift.” Ivy shrugs her shoulders and begins walking towards the gate to their plane. Ashton rolls his eyes with a small smile on his face before following her onto the plane. When they find their seats, Ivy becomes curious again.

“Please don’t ask another question.” Ashton sighs.

“Why can’t you just teleport us to Rome? Would have saved some cash on these first class tickets.” Ivy reclines in her seat and relaxes her arms over her head. Ashton laughs quietly.

“Halfway across the planet is a bit far for teleporting. I’d like to make sure we get there, and don’t end up in the middle of the ocean, if that’s okay with you?” He slips his black blazer off of his shoulders and settles in his seat next to Ivy.

“Would it matter much for me? My life is practically over at this point.” Her voice didn’t show any signs of worry, and that was a little unsettling to Ashton.

“Maybe you should try to enjoy what you’ve got left, yeah? “ He doesn’t look at her.

“I’m sure this trip to Rome isn’t for vacation purposes, Ashton.” Ivy sighs.

“No, but I promise it will be better than drinking yourself to death in that bar.” His voice is serious, but he pops in some earbuds and closes his eyes. The perfect way to get her to stop asking so many questions.

Ivy watched the world by pass by her through the window of the plane. The sun was going down over New York and it was more beautiful from up here than it had ever been down there. Something about the way the oranges and reds painted the blue sky and made some of the prettiest purples Ivy had ever seen, was calming. She itched to paint it, to appreciate it just a little. But any time she felt that way, she always picked up a bottle of vodka instead, because she knew she didn’t deserve to feel good, not after what she had done.

“Champagne?” A flight attendant asked as she stopped her drink cart.

“God yes.” Ivy leaned her body over Ashton to take a glass from her.

“No, no alcohol. I need you coherent and completely focused when we get there.” Ashton plucked the glass from Ivy’s hands.

“Come on Ashton, it’s one glass.” Ivy takes the glass back and brings it to her lips, tipping the glass back completely.

She held it there a moment, and nothing came out of the glass. Ivy opened her eyes to see that the bubbly liquid that once occupied the champagne flute was completely empty of it’s contents. Ivy stared at it for a moment, and Ashton watched as her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion before she put the pieces together and understood that he had in fact, made the champagne disappear from the glass.

“No alcohol.” Ashton brings his face closer to her, Ivy’s face still scrunched up in confusion. “Your need to defy me is getting old, darling. So please just do as I say from here on out.” He says the words quietly, only loud enough for Ivy to hear.

Ivy rolls her eyes, shoving the champagne glass at Ashton before falling back into her seat with an annoyed grunt. She hated how much power this demon had over her. He literally owned her life and she had no choice but to abide by everything he asked. But as hard as Ashton tried to be a scary and intimidating demon, there was something soft about him. Something in the color of his green eyes that made him seem a bit more human and annoyingly attractive.  If Ashton was going to damn her soul to hell, maybe she shouldn’t go down easily.

___________________________________

Ivy felt a weight lift off of her chest as their car drove through the cobblestone streets of Rome. It was beautiful here no matter what time of year it was. There were ropes of lights hung across the old stone buildings and a constantly busy marketplace. There was music playing in every direction and the mouth-watering smells of the endless bakeries was almost more than she could handle. The small smile on her face must have given her away.

“Enjoying yourself, Ivy Jane?” Ashton said from the driver’s seat.

“Don’t get used to it. I’ll be back to my wallowing in my own self-pity soon enough.” She turned her head slightly to watch his face. He was kind of beautiful with all the lights bouncing off his prominent jawline as they drove through the streets.

“Always looking forward to that.” He teased as they pulled up outside of what appeared to be a rather upscale hotel. “We are going to crash here for the night. Tomorrow we have a lot of work to do.” Ashton tosses the car key to a valet, like he’s done it a million times before.

Ivy waits patiently as Ashton checks them into the hotel. She kept her eyes on the gold trim and intricate designs of the architecture inside the old hotel. She wished more than anything she had a sketch pad that she could start drawing in. She never wanted to forget the way anything here looked. But while she was waiting, someone caught her eye as they walked by. He was tall, dressed completely in black, with blonde curls styled back away from his face. As soon as she saw him Ivy felt a chill consume her whole body. He was dangerously handsome, and his eyes were on her as well, smiling and biting into his bottom lip. There were two girls under his arms, laughing and not taking notice as he practically drank Ivy in. She felt uneasy under his gaze and quickly turned away to look for Ashton. It didn’t take long, because as soon as she turned her head he was right in front of her.

“You need to come with me, now.” Ashton’s jaw was tense as he grabbed onto Ivy’s wrist and pulled her towards the elevators. Once the gold colored doors shut, he had her pressed against the mirrored wall with his body, hands pressed to the mirror on either side of her head.

“Ashton…” She started to say.

“Listen closely, sweetheart. I only want to explain this once.” His mouth was dangerously close to hers, and Ivy felt herself wanting to close that little gap between them, and it made her stomach twist to think of it. “This city is heaped full of vampires. That guy down in the lobby? He was definitely one of them and he’s definitely going to tell the rest of his coven that I’m here. So now we have even less time to prepare you than I had originally planned. Understand?” Ashton’s eyes never left hers, and she could see flakes of red start to melt through his green irises. Ivy nodded yes in agreement.

Just as she finishes nodding the gold doors ding and slide open to the floor Ashton had selected. He stays looking at her a moment longer before using his inhuman speed and practically vanishing all together. Once Ivy collected herself and evened out her breathing, she found him leaning against the door of their room at the other end of the hallway.

“Are you planning on filling me on any of this? Because I feel like I know absolutely nothing about what is going on here.” Ivy walks past him and into the room. She throws her bag down on the bed only to be startled by Ashton’s sudden presence behind her.

“This favor I need…” He starts, pushing his hair back away from his forehead. “I need you to get something for me. And it requires sending you into a den of vampires with no protection.” Ashton sits on the corner of the bed and watches her face go pale.

“Do I look like the type of person who deals with vampires?! I mean we are talking about the real thing right? The blood drinking kind?!” Ivy paces the floor in front of the bed.

“If you do as I say, then you’ll likely come out of this unscathed. And if you succeed, I’ll add another 10 years to our contract.” Ashton’s elbows are rested on his knees as he looks down at his fingers that are playing with the silver rings on each of his fingers.

“What exactly do I have to do?” She stops in front of him, just a foot away as he slowly looks up at her.

“These vampires…they stole something from me. Something that I need to get back. And they’ve taken it somewhere that I can’t go.” Ashton stands up, walking over to the mini bar area and pouring some water into a cup.

“Where can’t you go?” Ivy asks, following him without even thinking.

“Holy ground. The vamps do enjoy their nightly raves in the catacombs though, which is where you come in.” Ashton hands her the cup of water and she takes it, backing up until she’s sitting back on the bed, head spinning with all these thoughts.

“So you want me to walk into a vampire rave and retrieve this thing you need? Aren’t they going to know I’m human?” Ivy asks.

“Of course. They always have humans at their parties, they need someone to feed on don’t they?” Ashton smiles, knowing that he wasn’t helping the sick feeling in Ivy’s stomach.

“And you expect me to somehow slip right in and not become some vampires blood bag? Do you hear how insane that sounds, Ashton?” Ivy’s voice cracks a little as she speaks and Ashton can’t help smile a bit more at the sound.

“You’re perfect.” He says without thinking. “For this job, I mean.” Ashton quickly corrects himself, clearing his throat and sitting down on the other side of the bed.

“What am I looking for while I’m in there?” Ivy asks, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as a rose color appears on her cheeks.

“It’s an amulet. It’s a pentagon shaped, black jewel on a gold chain. And I’ve got to have it before the end of the night tomorrow when the moon is full.” Ashton feels like he may have said too much to the girl with so many questions.

“And what will this amulet do?” She asked, Ashton should have known.

“I need it to bring back a friend of mine. A friend that was banished a long time ago.” He doesn’t look up, but Ivy can see that the subject pains him a little when his jaw sets tightly and his fists ball up.

“Will you tell me your plan at least?” She asks with a long sigh.

“In the morning. Right now, the human requires sleep.” Ashton stands from the bed and walks around to pull the blankets down from where they’re tucked.

“And you don’t?” Ivy raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Demons don’t need sleep. I only sleep if I want to. This isn’t one of those times.” He motions with his head for her to get into the bed and she doesn’t argue, exhaustion had started setting in not long ago.

“What are you going to do?” Ivy asks, pulling the lush blankets around her and settling into the bed.

“Preparations for tomorrow. Go to sleep, Ivy Jane.” Ashton flicks off the light switch and goes to the couch in the other room. He does his best not to look back at the bed, knowing the longer he looks at her the harder it will be to look away.

He sat on the couch with his plans spread out across the coffee table for a few hours. Going over them again and again. He needed to believe that somehow he would make this work this time. He went through this every full moon, trying to get back the amulet that would set his friend free from his imprisonment. All the other humans had failed him, losing their lives to a vampire, or if they did make it out it was always empty handed, and Ashton was forced to send them straight to hell, merely because he couldn’t stand to look at them a moment longer.

But there was something about this girl. Something that drove him absolutely mad. He hated that human softness he still carried with him after hundreds of years. He cared about her wellbeing, and that had never happened before. And he had waited until there was no other choice to put her in danger. She was his last hope to succeed.

Ashton could hear the soft snores escaping Ivy Jane’s mouth from the other side of the room. He wished that he hated the sound, but it was more soothing than anything else. And before he knew what he was doing, he was on his feet and walking towards the bed. He found himself lying down on the mattress on his back with his arms resting behind his head. He made sure not to shift the bed too much and wake her, but as soon as he was settled, like a magnet, Ivy was rolling over and tucking herself into Ashton’s side. He was frozen, not sure what he should do. Her body against him sent an unfamiliar warm feeling through his human form. There was a look of almost disgust on his face when he realized that he…felt something. He wanted to shake it away, but then her soft hand slid up his chest and gripped onto the collar of his shirt in comfort. And Ashton couldn’t fight the urge anymore, so he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer without another thought.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Wake up.” A voice whispered next to Ivy’s ear. It was so soft, she wasn’t sure she had actually heard it at all. “Wake up, beautiful.” The voice said again. Ivy could have sworn the voice was in her head. She carefully started to open her eyes. “Get dressed and meet me downstairs, quickly now sweetheart.”

Ivy jolted up in the bed then. Ashton’s voice was quite literally in her head, and he was nowhere to be seen. His demon abilities were a constant surprise. She sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed at her face a few times trying to make sure things were real. Ivy wasn’t sure if she had dreamt that she was being held by Ashton all night, or if it had actually happened and the fact that it didn’t bother her in the slightest if it had, was a little strange for her.

She got dressed quickly, throwing her hair up messily. On her way out of the door, Ivy noticed a bagel and to-go coffee sitting on the counter top with a note. Her heart started to beat just a little faster.

Eat this, human. You’re going to need it. Is what the note read in beautiful cursive handwriting. Ivy smiled and rolled her eyes playfully. She held the bagel in her mouth as she gathered her things and hurried out the door.

When she arrived downstairs in the lobby, she could see Ashton waiting for her by the front doors. He was standing there with a small smile on face and his arms resting behind his back. But what stood out he most, was that he wasn’t wearing his normal black dress clothes. Instead, he had on a fitted black tshirt and black gym shorts. It was a very different look for him, but it made him look almost relaxed, and that was something Ivy could get used to seeing. She tried to bite her lip as she approached him and hide the smile that was trying to spread across her face, but it wasn’t much use.

“Good morning.” Ashton said just as she stopped in front of him.

“Is it?” Ivy asked, taking another dramatic bite of her bagel, making Ashton laugh quietly.

“We shall see. Come on then. We don’t have much time.” Ashton turns and then offers Ivy his arm to hold onto while they walked. She raised an adorable eyebrow at him for only a short moment before taking his arm and letting him lead her outside of the hotel to where the car was waiting.

__________________________________________

They drove outside of the busy city for quite some time. Ivy tried to soak up as much of the countryside as she could, hoping maybe one day she would have some time to paint it. But she wasn’t going to get her hopes up, when her only hope was to retrieve an amulet from a den of vampires.

Ashton drove suddenly pulled off onto a side road made of gravel and rocks until they reached a large open field with some wooded off to one side. The sun was hovering off in the distance, really make that red color of Ashton’s hair pop. He stopped the car on the side of the road, taking off his sunglasses to look over at Ivy.

“Just beyond that wooded area, is a church. The church has miles of catacombs beneath it, and I can’t get close to it without burning from the inside out.” He pauses for a moment to watch her face. He didn’t want to do this to her. She was the one human he wanted to keep safe. “The vampires have parties there, almost nightly, and they keep the amulet here so I can’t get to it.”

“And I’m going to find an amulet, somewhere in the miles of catacombs below an old terrifying church?” Ivy asks, eyes meeting his. Ashton nods. “Perfect.” Ivy sighs.

“What do you know about vampires?” Ashton asks.

“They drink blood. Don’t like the sunlight. The obvious things.” Ivy responds.

“Vampires are deceiving. It’s part of their power of sorts. They can lure you in without you even knowing what’s happened. They use humans for blood and sex and these parties they have are practically just for those two things.” Ashton explains, not sure how Ivy would react to something like this.

“Okay. And how am I going to get past them?” Ivy tries to put on her brave face now.

“You just need to fit in. But you also need to know how to protect yourself. Come with me.” Ashton opens his car door and walks around towards the trunk, where he waits for Ivy to join him. She takes a few deep breaths before exiting the car and joining Ashton at the back of the car.

“Can you fight?” He asks suddenly.

“Fight? Fight vampires? You’re kidding right?” Ivy half laughs.

“If things go badly, I want you to at least be able to protect yourself.” This was something Ashton didn’t do with the others.

“I’ve never fought anyone, Ashton.” She tells him.

“We have work to do then.” Ashton reaches into the trunk of the car and pulls out a long wooden box. There are symbols carved into the top and sides that Ivy does not recognize. Ashton opens the box to show her what’s inside. “This is a vampire stake, and you’re going to use it if you need to, alright?”

“You want me to stab a vampire with that? Ashton, this is getting more and more unreal.” Ivy pushes her hair away from her face in exasperation.

“It’s only if things go badly, okay? I’m going to teach you how to fight the best that I can in the next few hours. It’s better than sending you in there with nothing.” He closes the box and looks away from her eyes.

Ivy felt nervous. But it wasn’t because she was about to walk into a den of vampires, no she was nervous about disappointing the demon who owned her soul. She didn’t know why her feelings had suddenly changed, but she wasn’t scared of him anymore.

“Alright, demon. Teach me to fight.” Ivy shrugs her shoulders and motions for him to lead the way. Ashton smiles and walks past her into the middle of the field.

“Show me what you’ve got, sweetheart.” Ashton puts his arms out at his sides, giving her a free shot.

“I can’t hit you…” Ivy almost mumbles the words.

“I promise that you won’t hurt me.” He tries to encourage her.

Ivy looks down at her hands for a moment, contemplating how to go about this, when she suddenly hears his voice in her head again.

You’re thinking too much. Just hit me.

“What’s with this whole mind talking thing? It’s a little weird.” She laughs.

“It’s how I’m going to be with you when you’re inside the catacombs. I can hear you, and you can hear me.” He steps closer to her.

“Can you always hear what I’m thinking?” Ivy swallows hard.

“No. Only if your thoughts are sent to me directly. But I could guess…” Ashton disappears a moment, then reappears behind Ivy, his mouth against the shell of her ear. “Are you thinking of that shiver you feel when I’m near you?” His lips brush against her ear making her eyes fall shut. “Or maybe that knot in your stomach that appears when I call you sweetheart?” The tips of his fingers are brushing up her arm.

Ivy lets out a shaky breath, keeping her eyes closed tightly.

“That’s right, Ivy Jane. You’re mine.” Ashton’s words have a direct line between her legs. Her eyes snap open and she spins around quickly only to see that he isn’t there anymore. Ivy whips around again, looking all around the open field, not seeing Ashton anywhere.

“Ashton?” She asks.

Over here. His voice says in her head. She spins around again, feeling his presence but still not seeing him.

Here. He says again. Ivy’s eyes can’t find him as she frantically looks around. And then suddenly he’s behind her again, pulling one of her arms behind her back and pinning it there. Ivy struggles against him for a moment until he speaks again.

“You’ve got be aware of everything. Don’t let them get behind you, easy access to your throat.” Ivy stills in her struggling when Ashton runs the tip of his nose softly and slowly up the side of her neck. Her whole body shutters.

“Anything else?” Ivy asks.

“You’ve got to be quick.” He says, releasing her arm and turning Ivy’s body to face him. “If they’re coming at you, you’ve got to find the quickest way out.”

Ashton worked with her all day long, showing Ivy as many moves as he could. He showed her some old blueprints of the catacombs in hopes that she might be able to remember something that would help her get out as fast as possible if need be. But now he needed to give her the final touch, one that he wasn’t extremely pleased about some vampire seeing but it had to be done.

“It isn’t another stake, is it?” Ivy teased as they walked back to the car.

“No, no more stakes.” Ashton opened the trunk of the car again, pulling out a white shopping bag and dangling it in front of her.

“What’s this?” Ivy took the bag from his hands and started pulling the item clothing out.

“So you’ll fit in.” He watches her face carefully. Ivy pulled the dress out of the bag, holding it up so she could see it.

“Let me get this straight. On top of everything else, you want me to do all of this in a goddamn dress?” Ivy’s eyes are wide as she looks over at Ashton, who has a big grin on his face.

“Just put the dress on, Ivy Jane.” Ashton shook his head a few times, shoving his hands into the pockets of his gym shorts.

The dress was all black and floor length. Ivy couldn’t imagine fighting a vampire in a dress like this, but then she noticed the slit going all the way up one side of the dress. She was more nervous than ever.

“Turn around.” She makes a circular motion with her finger, asking Ashton to run around while she changed. He rolls his green eyes, turning to face away from where she was changing behind the trunk. After a few minutes of scrambling into the dress, Ivy huffs out a long breath and taps Ashton on the shoulder. “What do you think?” She asks.

Ashton could barely keep himself from completely ravishing her right here right now. Ivy looked perfect. It complimented every part of her. And that slit that went all the way up to her hip, would likely be his undoing. But he cleared his throat, and took a few steps towards her.

“You’re fucking beautiful.” He says with a quiet laugh following. “One more thing.” Ashton reaches into the trunk, pulling out the stake and a leather thigh holster.

“I’ve got to carry that thing on my thigh?” She asks with wide eyes.

“No better place.” Ashton smiles wickedly. “Come here and sit back.” He motions for her to sit down on the hood of the car. Ivy walks around to the front of the car, sitting down and scooting back just a bit, the material of the dress slipping around her leg as she lift up towards him. Her heart was beating so fast she was sure that he could hear it.

“Go on then.” Ivy says, leaning back on her hands as Ashton steps forward with his eyes on hers, letting Ivy press her foot to his chest so she can continue to hold up her leg while he buckles the holster to her thigh.

“Won’t they be able to see it?” Ivy breathes out when Ashton’s hands ghost from the top of her thigh down to her ankle.

“I’ve put a glamour on the stake, they wont be able to see it.” He says the words against the skin of her ankle that he’s moved up to his mouth. Ivy can feel her entire body quake.

“How much time do I have?” She manages to spill out, eyes falling closed at the sensation of his lips on her skin.

“You need to have the amulet to me before the sun rises.” He’s pressing kisses up her leg. Ashton wants her, but he’s got a mission to complete first. He gently puts her leg down and watches as her pretty lips begin to pout.

“I guess I need to go?” Ivy sighs.

“The party will have started now.” Ashton helps Ivy stand up straight on her feet, keeping her close to him.

“Show me where this church is?” Ivy asks, looking down at her feet. Ashton reaches up, pulling the hair tie out of her hair and letting it fall over her shoulders. Ashton’s pointer finger hooks under her chin and pulls her eyes up to his.

“You’ve got so much life left to live, Ivy Jane, so please come back to me.” He leans down and presses his forehead to hers.

“That’s the plan.” She whispers, hands itching to reach out and touch him.

“Come on. I’ll show you.” Ashton’s fingers lace between Ivy’s as he walks her across the field towards the wooded area.

Once they’ve walked a ways into the woods, and the church comes into sight, Ashton comes to a sudden stop. When he looks down at his hands he can see fire trying to seep through his pores. He’s gotten too close.

“This is where I stop.” He presses a kiss to the back of her hand before letting it go.

“See you soon?” Ivy feels silly after she says it.

“Soon.” Ashton repeats. She smiles at him, though it’s a weak one, and then turns to walk towards the church before she changes her mind completely. “Ivy Jane?” She hears from behind her.

“Don’t let any filthy vamps touch you in that dress, yeah?” Ashton smiles, putting his hands back in his pockets.

“I make no promises.” Ivy teases, turning back towards the church and feeling her stomach tighten.

The church is a decaying relic to say the least, there isn’t much left of it at all. The old yellow bricks are lying in random piles throughout the area. But what finally catches her attention is the sound of electronic music coming from one of the piles of bricks. And as she approaches it, she can see that it’s actually an entrance to what she assumes is the catacombs. Ivy crawls over the bricks carefully and begins to descend the stairs leading down into a black hallway.

Ivy’s breathing is uneven and ragged. She can’t see a thing, but she can hear the music. The catacombs smell musty and damp. There was nothing appealing about any of this, and she couldn’t imagine why it would be a vampires chosen place for parties. Her fingertips stayed on the wall as she followed it through the dark. It had seemed like forever, but she finally found the series of rooms holding the vampires and their party.

There were hundreds of people, it could have been an actual night club down here. There were colored lights flashing and people dancing everywhere. Ivy walked into the party area, bumping into sweaty bodies and glass cups full of alcoholic liquid. She had no idea where to begin looking for this amulet.

Find the vampires. They’ll be sitting back watching the humans. Ashton’s voice suddenly said in her head, almost making her jump.

“Fancy seeing you here.” A voice that Ivy didn’t recognize says from behind her. She whirls around to see the curly haired blonde vampire from the hotel standing in front of her.

Get away from him. Quickly.

Ivy rolls her eyes at the sound of Ashton’s voice.

“Um hey there. I heard about this great party.” Ivy tries to sound sincere.

“I know why you’re here.” Is all he says in return.

“For a great time?” Ivy knows she isn’t coming off as convincing at all. The vampire laughs.

“You want the amulet don’t you? The one that demons been after?” He says.

“I um…no. What demon?” Ivy stumbles all over her words.

You’re a terrible actress, you know that? Ask him what he knows. Ashton’s voice says in her head. Ivy rolls her eyes.

“We saw each other at the hotel. I know exactly what that demons been up to.” He says, stepping up closer to Ivy so only she can hear him. “And I want to help.” Ivy’s eyes almost pop out of her skull when she hears the words.

“You want to help me?” She whispers.

“Yes, I do. I’m Luke.” He puts his hand out to shake hers, she stares at it for a moment.

See what he’s willing to do. Ashton says.

“Ivy.” She shakes his hand quickly, before Luke is pulling her off to the side.

“We can do this quickly and effortlessly, understand? One of the older vamps has been wearing that amulet around down here for a couple hundred years. I had one of the girls he’s been drinking on tonight take some things to make him sleep. But it won’t last long, so you’ve got to get in there now.” Luke pulls Ivy along by the elbow, showing her to another room full of vampires.

“I’m just going to walk in there and take it?” Her eyes furrow. “That’s too easy.”

“It can be. Now lets go, follow my lead.” Luke says.

“Why are you doing this?” Ivy asks.

“That’s a story for another time, Ivy.” He smiles, and his fangs withdraw just the slightest bit.

Kick his ass. I’m serious. Ashton comes into her head.

“Stop it.” Ivy says, meant for Ashton.

“Stop what?” Luke says.

“Nothing. Lets go.” Ivy changes the subject quickly.

Luke wraps his arm around Ivy’s shoulders lazily, leading her into the vampire room. She could see the camp he was referring to almost immediately. He was sitting on a velvet chair, a leather vest covering some of his top half and leather pants on his legs. But he appeared to be asleep, the gold chalice in his hands was tipped over with blood dripping from its rim.

“I’ll keep the rest of them busy, you grab that thing off his neck.” Luke whispers into her ear.

I’ll kill the damn vampire myself. Ashton’s jealous voice says. Ivy smiles momentarily.

Luke takes his arm away and walks over to the group of vamps sitting around on the furniture. They all look over to him when he starts talking and Ivy doesn’t hesitate to move towards the older vampire. He’s snoring quite loudly, which is a relief to say the least. One of the female vampires looks over to Ivy, and she freezes, pretending to lean against the chair like she had been there the whole time. The female vamp looks at her suspiciously but then looks back to Luke.

Ivy knows she cant get to the clasp for the chain behind his neck, so she simply wraps her hand around the amulet and pulls until it pops off of him. She looks down at her hand in amazement. She did it. She actually fucking did it. The older vampire stirs slightly, making Ivy jump away from him, and the attention in the room to suddenly turn towards her. She shoves the amulet into the front of her dress, in hopes that no one saw it. They say nothing, but they don’t take their eyes from where she stands.

“Luke…” Ivy says.

“Run!” Luke shouts, grabbing Ivy’s arm and pulling her out into the hallway. Luke uses his speed to get her back to the entrance in no time at all. Ivy can barely breathe. “Get out of here, alright? Go.” Luke tells her.

“What about you? I cant leave you with them!” Ivy tries to pull his arm.

“Ivy!” She hears Ashton shout from the distance.

“I’ll hold them off so you can get out of here. I’m good.” Luke gently pushes her out of the entrance so that she’s back outside next to the pile of bricks.

“Thank you.” She tells Luke sincerely. He gives her a tight smile, before disappearing back down the entrance. Ivy can hear the crunching of concrete and the hissing from the vampires coming from inside, so she starts running towards Ashton.

She’s almost reached him, when someone grabs her from behind and throws her down on her back. Ivy winces in pain, but doesn’t have time to think before the vampire is on top of her. It’s the female vampire from inside the catacombs.

“Ivy!” Ashton yells. He can’t get to her, the closer he gets the more his veins turn to fire. He watches in horror as the vampire continues to overpower Ivy. And he decides in that moment that he doesn’t care, and he uses his inhuman speed to reach the two of them scrambling on the ground.

Ashton can feel the fire start to burn inside him. But he forces on, and grabs the vampire by the back of shirt and effortlessly rips her off of Ivy. When Ashton goes to reach for Ivy, the vampire jumps on his back, clawing at him and kicking the backs of his legs. Ashton whips around, trying to get her off of him while the fire burns and starts to crack through his skin. He can hold back the scream that leaves his mouth.

Ivy scrambles off the ground, ripping the stake from it’s holster on her thigh. Ashton can’t stay still while he’s writhing in pain, but somehow, Ivy manages get up behind the vampire and shove the stake through her back and into her heart. Ivy watches as the vampire freezes up and slowly rolls off of Ashton’s back and onto the ground.

The fire is starting to consume Ashton from the inside out, he has to get off this holy ground as fast as possible. Ivy grabs his hand and pulls him to his feet, hearing him groan over and over from the pain.

“Get me out of here, please.” He begs.

“I’ve got you.” Ivy helps Ashton move and walk back towards the car. Once they’ve gotten to the tree line, Ivy lets Ashton sit down.

“Give me a moment.” He says. His fingers dig into the earth around him and his whole body starts to glow. Ivy watches with wide eyes until he’s back to himself, standing up as if nothing happened. “Quickly now, sweetheart. There isn’t much time left.” Ashton grabs her around the waist and teleports them right next to the car.

“What now?” Ivy asks as Ashton fumbles around in the trunk, gather things in his arms.

“Now, we free my friend.” Ashton says. He picks up a rock from the ground and smashes it over top of the amulet, busting it into tiny black starts of glass and gold metal.

Ivy watches as Ashton hovers his hands above the pieces and began to say some sort of incantation that she wasn’t able to understand. He said the words over and over as the full moon got higher and higher in the sky. It happened so quickly, Ivy wasn’t sure she actually saw it, but black clouds suddenly covered the moon momentarily like smoke and then whisked away as Ashton stood up. The ground shook beneath them and cracked open as tiny black shards of the amulet fell into the earth.

“What’s happening?” Ivy shouted, and Ashton laced his fingers through hers again, pulling her close so that she could hide her face in his chest as the ground continued to crumble.

Ivy looked up long enough to see spouts of fire shoot up from the cracks in the earth, and for someone…or something to begin crawling out of the ground. He stood up, brushing ashes and soot off his all black clothes before he looked up to see Ashton and Ivy standing there.

“Finally found me did ya?” The man from the fiery ground says.

“Only took a few hundred years and a very determined woman.” Ashton answers, walking towards the stranger and wrapping him up into a long hug.

“Wh…Who are you?” Ivy says from Ashton, her curiosity getting the better of her. The man hugging Ashton brings his eyes up to her, stepping out of the hug with Ashton but still standing next to him. The man pushed his hand through his black curls and licked his lips before he spoke again.

“I’m the Boogieman, dollface.” He said with a wicked smile on his perfect face. Ashton elbowed him playfully and laughed a little.

“This is Calum, Ivy. He’s been a friend…since forever.” Ashton walked over to Ivy, holding her face in his hands.

“Did I just help you release another demon onto earth?” Ivy asked. Ashton laughs again.

“Sort of. But Calum and I won’t cause too much trouble.” He presses his forehead against hers.

“And why is that?” Ivy asks, her hands finally finding chest and shoulders, memorizing the way he feels.

“I’d much rather get into trouble with you.”

A/N: there is going to be a very smutty epilogue to follow this in a few days!! but please let me know what you think!!

tag list:  @maoricth @slimthicccal @bbycal @kinglyhood @sugarcoated-pain @shower-me-with-roses @c-dizzle-swizzlex @calumculture @sugarcoatedcalum@calthesensation @cheyenne-in-wonderland @softboycal @moonlightcalum@unconditionalcalum @irwinkitten @singt0mecalum @angelbabylu @5sosnsfw@aspiringwildfire @myloverboyash @cal-puddies @lashtoncurls

[mintea-in-space]

This is also on ao3!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21844570/chapters/52133791#workskin

And as another warning, a suicide attempt is highly implied, but not out right stated, so please use caution!

Tar in His Veins Part 2

An inhuman scream ripped through the living room.

Delia had to grab Lydia’s arm to keep her from running back into the circle.

The demon writhed, screaming and sobbing, his back arching off of the couch.

And the blood.

More of it seemed to pour from him like a fountain as he howled.

Delia began chanting the words on the page.

The crystals seemed to glow, and the powder on the floor lit up. All while Beetlejuice made noises that no human ever could.

Lydia clamped her hands over her ears, sobbing, crying out.

That was her friend dammit!

And she couldn’t do anything!!

Her will almost broke when he screeched the first word he’d said since she found him.

“LYDIA!!”

She couldn’t do it. She shoved her face into Barbara arms. She couldn’t watch him suffering anymore. She couldn’t. Barb clutched the teen, feeling her shake with fear and sobs.

After what felt like years of pain and hurt, Delia finished the spell.

All was quiet.

Delia let out a shaky breath and collapsed into a kitchen chair. Lydia ripped her face from Barb, and ran to him.

He still looked like shit.

But. She could just barely see his chest rise and fall with weak breaths. His face was pinched in agony, although it was slowly smoothing out.

Lydia put a hand on his cheek.

“Beej?”

And his eyes snapped open.

His hair rippled, first blue, purple, and finally starch white.

“NononononoNONONONONONO!”

He scrambled at his chest.

“I WAS THERE I WAS ALMOST THERE NO WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!”

Lydia could see the whites of his eyes as they rolled in his head. It was like a cornered animal, he radiated fear.

She flailed, finally grabbing one of his wild hands and squeezing it. She couldn’t help the tears that welled in her eyes.

“It’s okay! Look Beej you’re alright! You’re okay! And look you’re home! We took care of you! You’re okay!-“

“IM NOT SUPPOSED TO BE!”

Again the room fell silent.

Beetlejuice’s hair melted into purple and that sickly yellow.

“I’m-“ a sob. “I’m not supposed to be okay! I was supposed to be gone so you never had to worry about me coming back! And so I couldn’t be stupid and selfish and give in and come back because I know if I do I’ll just ruin everything again, and I can’t hurt you again Lyds I can’t do it, I can’t bare the thought of-“

His rambling cut off. Wrenching his hand from her grasp he scrabbled at his jacket, muttering.

“Where is it is it still here please let it still be here.”

Lydia’s heart froze when he pulled it from his pocket, a grin on his face that looked strangled and wrong.

It was a knife. A nasty one. It looked to be carved from some kind of gem or crystal, and the edge glittered wickedly.

And the black ooze that dripped from it put ice into the hearts of everyone.

“See! I can fix this! It’ll be fine! I’ll just put right here and no one will ever have to worry about the horrible no good useless-“

Again he broke. Choking back sobs.

The knife clattered to the floor as Beetlejuice clutched himself. Of course. He couldn’t do it.

Juno always said he was too chicken shit, and it was a spur of the moment decision that actually made him do it in the first place. He couldn’t do it again. And now they brought him back.

Why?!?

Why did they even bother?!?

Thoughts spiraled into panic and confusion. Why would they even bring him back? He was nothing but trouble, a horrible blemish on their lives. He did nothing but ruin and destroy and mangle, it’s the only thing he was good at.

And they saved him.

He barely registered that he dropped the wicked thing.

It didn’t matter anyway.

He couldn’t do it himself, at least not again, so why-

Again, the grin that looked wrong spread across his face.

Blue replaced the purple in his hair, and that sickly yellow burned against it.

And when he opened his mouth the mangled laugher that came out sent goosebumps across the living residents’ skin. It was desperate and choked and awful.

“I get it! Ha! HaahhHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

The family looked on in horror.

“He’s lost it.”

Delia whispered.

“I GET IT NOW!”

Flying from the couch, he landed on his feet, and snatched up the knife.

“I REALLY GET IT! YOU WANTED TO DO IT YOURSELF RIGHT? FINE! I CAN DO THAT!”

And Lydia found the hilt of the wicked thing shoved into her hands.

“I get it!! I really do! Go ahead! FINISH ME!”

She just trembled, tears rolling down her cheeks, heart twisted in knots.

“Ohhhhh come on Lyds! I know you have it in ya! Ya did it before! Come on now don’t make me beg for it, I will!! JUST DO IT”

She shook hear head, sobs finally starting to break free.

She howled when he landed on his knees.

Thrusting the blade against his chest, he held her hands in place. And he completely changed, whispering now.

“Lydia please I’m begging you. Please. I don’t care how you do it just please stop making me wait for it I can’t handle the suspense Lyds. Please just-“

“ERGAAAAA”

With a animalistic howl, Lydia yanked her hands from his grip and threw the knife on the ground.

“I WON’T I JUST GOT YOU BACK!! I CANT LOSE YOU!! I WON’T DO IT!!”

And she sunk to her knees, head bowed as she cried.

“Why do you want me to hurt you?!”

Grinning that awful, broken grin, the demon just snatched the knife and turned to the Maitlands.

“You then! Come on Babs! I know hot stuff doesn’t have it in him, he couldn’t hurt a fly but you? Come on! I know you have the guts to do it!”

Barb barely managed to catch it when he tossed it towards her.

“I-“

His face twisted in a sneer.

“Do I need to remind you? Come on. It hasn’t even been that long up here!!”

Steeling herself, Barb shook her head. With a clatter she dropped the knife to the floor.

“I won’t.”

Beetlejuice sighed.

“Okay where do I start? So, I molested both of you, killed at least one person, tried to have you exorcised, married Lydia, uuuh, Oh! Trapped you in the attic! And totally jacked up the house! Come on that’s gotta be enough to make you wanna stab me right? Please?”

Turning, she kicked the knife as far away from him as possible.

Then she marched up to the demon and shoved her finger in his chest.

“YOU”

Another shove.

“DON’T”

Shove.

“GET. TO DO THAT.”

She snarled.

“WE BROUGHT YOU BACK BECAUSE WE CARE ABOUT YOU DIPSHIT! WE AREN’T GOING TO EVER GO THROUGH THAT AGAIN IF WE CAN HELP IT! EVER! SO YOU SIT YOUR ASS DOWN, AND HUG LYDIA FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK!”

Stunned, Beetlejuice simply opened and

closed his mouth.

That was when he really saw everyone.

Lydia was still shaking on the floor, Adam had a white knuckled grip on a kitchen chair, Delia was pale and breathing heavily in another kitchen chair, and Barb was steaming, face red with anger and unshed tears.

Both Adam and Delia looked like they were going to be sick.

That sickly yellow that Lydia hated spread, and covered Beetlejuice’s head.

“I-I just-“

He felt like he wasn’t in control of his body, he felt himself lower to the floor. He trembled. Self loathing finally taking over completely.

“I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

And with that the tension shattered.

Lydia launched herself into his arms, Adam and Barbara kneeling to wrap their arms around him. Delia hesitated, but joined them on the floor.

They stayed like that for a while. All of them crying and leaning on one another.

And they kept Beetlejuice there with them. Just holding him.

Eventually, he fell asleep.

Feedback is always welcome! I’ve read through it a few times, but I’m sure that things still slipped through. So if you see a typo please let me know! I’m definitely going to continue this, and probably draw stuff for it too! If anyone wants to draw scenes from this I would love to see it!! Please don’t tag a beetlebabes!

Also fuck Juno

[thunders-warcats-stuff]

Burning Water Chapter Seventeen

 They were more than ready when Brokenstar snuck into camp. Cats poured in from behind the leader's den, the back nursery entrance, the regular camp entrance, and threw themselves from the top of the ravine… Fireheart's eyes snapped open to see chaos all around him, and he was surprised to see Whitestorm batting a strange rogue away from where he previously slept.

 “We were right to keep our vigil!” He yowled furiously. “It gave me a few heartbeat's warning!”

 Fireheart scrambled to his paws and lunged for the nearest rogue, a brown and white she-cat a bit darker than Nutleaf and more patched.

 How did Brokenstar gather this many rogues?! It’s almost like we’re fighting another Clan…

 He sent the rogue she-cat away squealing and dodged two of the many cats locked in battle. Frostfur was fighting like all of StarClan coursed through her, eyes wild as she slithered around and left gaping wounds on her opponent. She gave chase when he ran away squealing, but Fireheart brushed her tail with his paw. She whirled to face him, snarling.

 “You’ve given him enough wounds to remember you by.” The ginger tom insisted. The white queen nodded and pelted off in search of another intruder.

  Someone crashed into him and Fireheart clawed with all his might. He was right to do so, because it was Clawface! This was the cat who killed one of his most trusted advisors and stolen the future of the Clan! This cat had rocked ThunderClan with a single set of actions, and showed no remorse for it. The anger that burned in his veins lent Fireheart strength, and he saw red the next few heartbeats.

 “...ire… art? Fireheart? Can you hear me?”          Nutleaf… why wasn’t she in the nursery? What was going on?!

 “Don’t try to move too quickly.” Yellowfang insisted. “Despite what you pulled off, you’re still very injured.”

     What he pulled off… what was Yellowfang talking about?  

 “You took on Clawface and five other cats basically single-pawed!”      Cinderpe-paw. Cinderpaw? What in StarClan’s name?!  

 “Sleep, Fireheart. You’ve done well today.”

     Bluestar…  

     I guess if she says I can… but what happened to Clawface…?    

 When Fireheart woke next, every part of his body felt numb. His tail thumped limply, but he didn’t feel a thing.

 “Don’t move, kittypet.” Brokenstar… why was he still alive?! Sure, Yellowfang had a soft spot for him, but you’d think that after all he put her through-!          The grey medicine cat must have seen the look on his face, because she flicked an ear. They’d talk later.

 The ginger tom struggled to his paws, stretching out each of his limbs in turn before shaking himself out. Yellowfang nodded approvingly.

 “You look like you’re moving well. How do you feel?”

 “Fine.” He meowed slowly. His voice sounded like it hadn’t been used and his throat tasted like the sandy hollow. “Warm.”

 Did he visit StarClan in his sleep? Surely he’d remember dreaming of Spottedleaf or Redtail?

 “Good. I’ll see about a dash of feverfew or something. Come here, come here. Reckless fool that you are!” The older she-cat snapped.

 “I still don’t know what I did.” Fireheart offered.

 “Well, the others certainly do.” Yellowfang snorted. “So I’m sure you’ll find out later.”

 Fireheart barely took a few steps out of the medicine den before Cinderpaw came barrelling into him.

 “Oh thank StarClan, we thought you wouldn’t make it!” She whispered. Brackenpaw was right by her side, both siblings sniffing their mentor over. When they were satisfied with Yellowfang’s job of patching him up, they took up places on either side of him and marched him further into camp.

 “Fireheart’s awake!” He heard Nutleaf cry out from a few snake-lengths away.

 Tan fur filled his vision and Sandstorm pressed her muzzle to his cheek. Tears shone in her eyes.

 “What happened?” Fireheart asked, desperate for answers. “What did I do?”

 “You went after Clawface.”

 Was that Willowpelt he heard? He couldn’t see much because the apprentices bundled him into a sitting position and Sandstorm joined him. Brackenpaw waited patiently beside her while Cinderpaw fidgeted beside Fireheart.

 “You went after Clawface and he almost had you, but you were too fast for ‘im, and then he was dead! After that, these three cats came out of nowhere and tag-teamed you but you slashed their throats like it was nothing! I mean you had blood      everywhere    ! And then there was this one other cat who had to be about three times Lionheart’s size and you were nipping at his paws and slashing under his belly! Then Greystripe came over and you guys did this weird move that threw him up into the air and sent him crashing down! He wasn’t completely dead, but he looked pretty close to it!” Cinderpaw crowed proudly.

 “You were the best cat in the whole battle!” Brightpaw insisted from beside her sister, eyes wide.

 “I don’t think that’s true.” Fireheart muttered, ears hot. Sandstorm licked his cheek and nudged his shoulder.

 “If not the best, then certainly the most reckless.” She purred through gritted teeth. Fireheart froze. He knew that purr. That purr meant bad things to come, because not only would he be chewed out by Sandstorm, Dustpelt and whoever else saw fit to rake him through the mud for his actions, he would have a constant guard consisting of either his mate or her snow-furred mentor. Sandstorm and Whitestorm would absolutely not let him out of someone’s sight for as long as he lived, that’s how badly he messed up!

 Fireheart swallowed visibly.

 “What happened to Brokenstar? Why’s he in the medicine den?” He asked nervously.

 “Yellowfang beat him into submission. Bluestar decided that the evening patrol is taking him to ShadowClan today.”

 “How long have I been out?”

 “Four sunrises. You tried to wake up the second night but you weren't really aware of much.” Nutleaf offered.

 “Look at her, she sounds so much like a medicine cat already.” Yellowfang crowed proudly. “With enough training, your sister will be the best medicine cat the Clan has ever seen.”

 “Medicine cat?!” Darkstripe choked out. “First you let a kittypet become a warrior, now you let one touch our herbs?!”

 “She'd be far better at it than the likes of you, Darkstripe.” Willowpelt growled. “It seems you've forgotten what I taught you.”

 “Tigerclaw was my mentor.” The black tabby spat.

 “And I'm your mother. Besides, if Tigerclaw was so influential, you'd think his hatred for outsiders would have been kept better to himself!” She snarled, bristling. The camp went silent, stunned at Willowpelt's outburst.

 The light grey she-cat smoothed her fur and dipped her head to the deputy.

 “I suppose that isn't what all this is about.” She groused.

 “It is a conversation best had with privacy.” Tigerclaw rumbled, stepping forward. “Come now, everyone. We've just defended our camp against intruders! The fresh-kill pile is overstocked. Surely this is a time to celebrate?”

 So food was passed out and everyone grouped up and shared tongues. Fireheart couldn't find it in him to move, but Whitestorm brought he and Sandstorm both some prey.

 “I'm proud of you.” The white tom murmured when he was satisfied the pair of younger warriors were eating. “Despite Fireheart's ridiculous taste for danger, we wouldn't have been able to pull through without the help of every cat in camp.”

 “In my dreams, all the warriors were out of camp and there were only five intruders. I don't know where Brokenstar got so many cats or how we haven't noticed before.” Fireheart muttered around the squirrel Whitestorm had set before him.

 “It was a sign, yes, but StarClan has a way of getting their point across without being entirely literal.” The white tom offered. “Eat well, and rest.” He insisted before going to join Bluestar and Tigerclaw.

 Fireheart placed his head on his paws.

 “Are you in any pain?” Sandstorm wondered.

 “It's not that.” He muttered bitterly. “It's about Tigerclaw, and it's better left to moonhigh.”

 “Alright then.” Sandstorm shifted so that she matched Fireheart's pose and the pair lay in the center of camp, revelling in the joy of their Clanmates.

 Fireheart woke in the warriors den the following morning to find dazzling white light streaming through the wall.

     More snow?  

 At least his wounds had stopped aching. Yellowfang had been right—the herb juice had stung, but he felt much better after a good night’s sleep. Fireheart wondered how the younger apprentices had managed their vigil. They weren't warriors yet, but the four siblings were determined to prove themselves and begged their mentors to stay up all night. "We'll be practicing for our warrior vigils!” Cinderpaw pleaded. The four mentors talked it over with Longtail and Swiftpaw, who had been more than willing to join the apprentices in their mission.

     It must have been bitterly cold.    

 He got to his paws and stretched his forelegs, arching his back and curling his tail up over his head. Fireheart padded out into the snow-covered clearing to find that Longtail, Dustpelt and the five apprentices were gone. Whitestorm must have sent them in when he left on the dawn patrol.

 He could just make out Frostfur’s white pelt skirting the nursery as she slipped out to stretch her legs. There was a large bare spot in the center of the clearing, where they'd spent the night. Fireheart shivered at the thought.

 The sky was thick with snow-heavy clouds. Flakes fell softly and silently.

     We decimated the fresh-kill pile yesterday    , Fireheart realized.

 The Clan would need to stock up if the snow was going to get deeper. He heard Bluestar call from the Highrock.

 The Clan began to creep from their dens and pick their way to the center of camp, shaking themselves out to adjust for the cold.

 “Good morning!” She called brightly. “I hope everyone enjoyed themselves this past evening, because I know I did. Our brave apprentices begged to sit in the snow all night with a couple of warriors and I'm proud to say that we've slept better for it. Well done, you five, for taking initiative, and thank you Longtail and Dustpelt for accompanying them despite the weather. I want you all to know that Brokenstar has been turned over to ShadowClan, who will apparently consult WindClan on his fate. Clawface has been buried and after the patrol returned, I can safely say that our forest is free of rogues.”

 The Clan cheered and went about their day. Fireheart glanced around for one of his former denmates. Sandstorm and Dustpelt were bound to be exhausted, so that left Greystripe to go hunting with. He approached his tabby friend as the grey tom worked there clear snow from the entrance to the nursery.

     He wouldn't dare…    

 “Hey Greystripe!” The ginger tom called.

 His friend glanced up, saw who was calling him, and shuffled more snow aside.

 “Well, I figured we could go hunting to warm ourselves up and restock the fresh-kill pile, but have fun with the snow.” Fireheart chirped. He'd probably be better off on a solo hunt anyway.

 Greystripe padded over to him just as he reached the gorse tunnel.

 “Let's go.” The large tabby growled.

 It was a slow climb out of the ravine, with the boulders covered in snow. When they reached the top, the icebound forest stretched before them. Graystripe charged away at once, face set with grim determination. Fireheart followed him. As he tracked a mouse around the roots of an oak tree he saw Graystripe racing after a rabbit that had been foolish enough to stray from its burrow. Graystripe pelted furiously after the creature until he finished it off with a well-aimed pounce. Fireheart sat and watched as Graystripe padded back to him and dropped the rabbit at Fireheart’s paws.

 “That should feed a kit or two.” He grunted. His ginger companion snorted.

 “You don’t have to prove anything to me,” Fireheart informed him.

 “Could've fooled me.” He scoffed.

 By sunhigh Graystripe had caught more than Fireheart, but both cats had done well. They returned to the camp, their jaws heavy with fresh-kill. They padded into the clearing and dropped their prey in the usual place. The spot had been empty so far. Fireheart wondered if they should go out again. The snow was heavier now, and a cold wind was beginning to blow through the ravine.

 Fireheart was studying the darkening sky when he heard Brindleface’s worried meow near the nursery. He bounded over to her,instantly alarmed

 “Is something the matter?”

 “Have you seen Cloudkit?” she demanded. Fireheart shook his head. He had meant to play with all of Nutleaf’s kits today, as Patchkit was finally feeling better after a long battle with kitten-cough. But then he'd gone hunting with Greystripe and- wait, hold on!

 “Is he      missing    ?” His paws prickled as Brindleface’s rising panic began to infect him.

 “Along with Ashkit and Fernkit. I closed my eyes for a      moment    . I just woke up and I can’t find them anywhere! They’ll freeze to death in this weather!” The queen swayed on her paws. Alarm choked Fireheart as he recalled the last time a cat had simply disappeared from the camp… he and Nutleaf almost died on the Thunderpath.

 “Okay, okay…” he muttered as he thought this through. “Get Nutleaf from the medicine den and go to the nursery. Question his siblings and see if they know anything about where their denmates were headed. If you find out anything, tell Bluestar and she should send out more cats.”

 “Are you going out there alone?!” Brindleface demanded sharply. “Certainly not in this weather, young tom! Not when you just woke up from four days of healing grievous wounds! Go get two of your denmates if you must go at all!” She snapped.

 Fireheart dipped his head, thoroughly cowed, and sprinted for the warriors den. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Brindleface head for the medicine clearing.

 “Sandstorm! Greystripe! Dustpelt!” He called into the den. The pair of brown warriors were by his side in an instant, alarmed by his tone.

 “Greystripe isn't here. What happened?!” Dustpelt demanded.

 “Cloudkit, Ashkit, and Fernkit are out in the forest doing who knows what! We have to find them!” He insisted.

 “You can't go anywhere! You're barely on your paws!” Sandstorm snapped.

 “But-!”

 “Dustpelt and I will find them, I promise!” Sandstorm murmured. Fireheart rocked back on his haunches with a scowl as his denmates tore out if camp. Nutleaf raced toward him, a panicked look on her face.

 “Who'd you send to look for the kits?!” She demanded.

 “Sandstorm and Dustpelt.” He responded promptly.

 “Good, now come wait with us in the nursery,” Brindleface ordered.

[zagamalli]

“Rock Bottom” //Part Three

John jumped down off of old boy as Dutch and Hosea raced to Arthur's side, his breathing shallow. Arthur's vision blurred, the panicked voices surrounding him distant and muffled. Arthur pushed his hand against the ground, the attempt to stand only proving useless once he felt hands guiding him back to the damp ground.

"Mfine-" he mumbled, still trying to pull away from Hosea, hands wavering and strength gradually diminishing, shamed and embarrassed that he couldn't even pull away from Hosea of all people. Absence of strength concerning everyone. A hand rested on Arthur's forehead, sweat bearing on his forehead. "He's burning up," Hosea declared, trying his best to keep calm. "John, get back up there." Dutch ordered, he and Hosea doing their best to get Arthur standing, limping over to Old Boy.

"Come on son, let's get you up there." Instructed Arthur. Getting him onto the Hungarian halfbred was a struggle, any and every tug provoking a whimper from Arthur, too exhausted by the endeavor to hold back, every one making his face flush red, ashamed of how weak he's feeling, especially in front of his brother.

'Goddamnit Arthur, you useless son of a bitch' he thought, bitter with himself, his knuckles going white around the saddle horn. "Hey, you alright?" John questioned, noticing how his hand encompassed the horn, accompanied by the red tint on his face. "I'm fine." Arthur growled, sounding harsher than he'd initially intended, but John didn't seem to mind all that much.

"Keep your eyes open for us, alright, son?" Dutch ordered, voice unwavering. Energy depleted, all he could manage was a meager nod. Wrapping his arm around Arthur's chest, to keep the older one from falling out of the saddle. It wasn't necessarily meant to be a comforting gesture, but it was to Arthur. He tried to keep his eyes open, he really did, but exhaustion won in the end, as soon as the horse started into a canter towards Horseshoe Overlook.

The ride was a blur to Arthur, phasing in and out of consciousness yet again. Whenever he was mildly cognizant he'd look at the azure sky, birds passing overhead. In due time after regaining consciousness for a few minutes, the sky overhead had turned pink, gray streaks phasing throughout.

Next thing he knew, he was being lowered off of the horse, voices around him foggy and distant, groggily opening his eyes, a black sky loomed above, a brilliant Galaxy visable, hundred of stars decorating the sky. Voices dragged him out of his thoughts, "thur- Arthur, are you with me?" Someone asked, voice calm and gruff. "Hey, Charlie." Arthur chuckled, a coughing fit erupting, blood splattering on Arthur's hand and shirt, but nothing compared to the amount of blood already on his tattered shirt, the blue now a mix of maroon and ebony.

'Did I really just call him Charlie?'

"Let's get you to your tent," Charles started, Arthur already trying to stand up himself, a set of hands on his arm, Arthur trying to shake them off to no avail. "Et offa me-" Arthur growled, only for another coughing fit to attack his throat, the attack hurting more than the others, blood splattering onto the already red grass. "Arthur let me help you-" Charles said, no room for argument in his tone. "Charles, you ain't gotta-" Arthur's breath hitched, his broken foot moving into an awkward position. "C'mon." Charles ordered, another set of hands grabbing onto him, helping him onto his feet, er, foot.

Limping over to his cot was a blur, each step sending pain jolting through him, tugging on the ribs he was sure are broken. The other two sat him on the cot, Bill going back to give Arthur space while Hosea is was barking orders. The other man turned to leave as well, Arthur tried to say something, vaguely resembling Charles's name. Turning around he looked at Arthur. "L-Lenny-" "He's fine Arthur." The blonde man breathed a sigh of relief.

'Thank god' Arthur wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened to Lenny, what if his idea didn't work? Would Lenny be in the same condition as Arthur? Would he-

"Arthur, you alright?" Hosea was there now, when did he get there? Oh well, that's not important right now. "Y-yeah," he barely managed to get out, blood dripping from his lip. "We need to stitch you up, okay? This is going to hurt." He said, a hint of remorse audible in his voice, and sadness visable in his eyes. A nod was the only response Arthur could muster, even that causing him to wince.

Arthur never liked the feeling of a needle tugging against his skin, but he was used to it. It wasn't his first time being stitched up and certainly wouldn't be his last. Hosea peeled the remains of Arthur's favorite shirt off, heart sinking with every new wound revealed. Skin black, blue and purple in multiple spots, the only normal looking spots covered in blood, both dried and some still oozing down his side. Darkness was starting to encompass Arthur's vision, stars dancing in the corner. "Arthur?" Hosea asked, Arthur starting to slump back towards Hosea. "John!" Hosea yelled, the younger man coming over as quickly as he could manage. "What's wrong?" Urgency in his voice, "Nothing, I just need you to hold him up for me." "Okay," John agreed, putting his hands on Arthur's shoulders. "Im-Im fine-" Arthur slurred, almost immediately darkness washed over him.

A sound came from in front of Arthur, his eyes groggily opened. "Where-" "Morning sunshine!" Someone cheered. That voice, he knew that voice. Who- "Seems like you were having a dream of sorts!" The man chuckled, a tin badge on his coat. A blade shone in the sheriff's hand, Arthur's eyes widening, attempting to move against the pain. Why can't he move? A silver blade was up to his throat now, Lenny nowhere in the room. "Where's-" "Your friend? Didn't you hear the cheering already?" Panic raced throughout Arthur, still trying to move, but there he sat. Paralyzed. At the mercy of the sadistic bastard in front of him.

"thur- Arthur wake up, Arthur-" he woke with a jolt, panic coursing through his veins. "Where's Lenny-" "Arthur," "Goddamnit where is he?" Arthur snapped at John, startling the younger man. "He's asleep, Arthur." Arthur's irratic breathing had started to slow, tears starting to slide down his bruised and bloodied cheek. Before he knew it, there was an arm wrapped around him, John embracing his brother in a hug. "I'm glad you're okay." John stated, Arthur still holding onto him like he was his lifeline. "John, I'm sorry-" "It's okay, you're home." The blonde man drifted back into a dreamless slumber.

He woke to birda chirping outside of his cot, and could see someone walking towards it through the sheet that had been hastily put up to give Arthur privacy. A part of the sheet had been pulled away, Hosea entering with Dutch. "How are you feeling?" Dutch asked, brows furrowed and face in an unreadable expression. "Okay, considering." Arthur said, a dark chuckle came from both him and Hosea. "Stay strong son, we need you." "I know." And that was all Dutch said before walking out, shouting orders at random gang members.

"I'm- I'm sorry, Hosea. "Arthur-" "None of this wouldve happened if it weren't for me," "Arthur." "Lenny wouldn't have gotten hurt, you wouldn't have-" His ramblings were cut off when he was enwrapped in a hug, Hosea soothing Arthur the best he could. The older man wiped a tear off or his son, who wasn't even aware he'd been crying. "It isn't your fault, Arthur. I'm going to be here if you need me." He said, Arthur lowering back onto the cot, the birds cooing lulling him to sleep.

Hosea stood after a few minutes, making sure Arthur was asleep. Spotting Lenny by the campfire he approached, pulling him aside. "Lenny, what happened while you two were gone?" Hosea asked, noticing Lenny's expression turn sullen, Lenny started to speak.