#(*dodges a heavy object my husband threw at me*)

[zesty-alt]

Reminder that the person who breeds you isn't the one who gives you multiples!! You are the one whose body is so fertile, ripe and perfect for breeding that your body produced all those eggs just waiting, begging to be filled. It's your own biology that's made your belly grow so gravid and round, your virility that's assured that your womb is so tightly packed, hips widening, back arching, breasts swelling, all in preparation for the brood you've made. They may have planted the seeds, but it's you that's put it to work, your body so eager to swell full of life, your massively rotund figure proof of what an overachiever you are.

[peakyltd]

Storm

John Shelby x Reader

A/N: Hiii! It's been a while. I haven't forget about this account or writing in general but time was not in my favor 🥲 I missed every single one of you and I'm glad I was finally able to finish this. About the one shot: I got my inspiration for this piece from the scene in season 3 under the pier with Arthur, John and Mrs. Changretta.

Warnings: Rage, mentions of war

Words: 1K

A soft breeze found it’s way trough the opened window of the kitchen, gently touching her skin while she was occupying herself to finish the fresh apple pie. She looked up briefly, her eyes catching the peaceful countryside that made the corners of her lips turn into a small smile. The gentle hue of the sun made it look even prettier and she already imagined John and herself sitting outside, enjoying their pie.

She carefully opened the oven before putting it inside, the feeling of the escaping heath against her face warned her to be careful. She wiped her hands on her apron after closing it and focused on the dishes that needed to be cleaned. Once she was almost finished she heard the front door open, letting her know that her husband had arrived.

Heavy footsteps came her way, followed by a soft touch on her lowerback. A smile crept onto her face as she turned to look at him. “Hello darling.” She greeted happily. “Hi love.” He murmured before pressing a light kiss onto her lips. “The apple pie is almost finished so I hope you’re in for it.” She smiled. “Mhm, smells good.” The lost look in his eyes and the lack of enthusiasm told her everything she needed to know.

While she dried her hands, John turned to leave the kitchen. “John, wait.” She called after him, stepping away from the counter. “What’s wrong?” Her eyes scanned his face, worried about his well being. “It’s nothin’'.” He took his cap off, holding it tightly in his hand while his jaw tensed. “Rough day today, that’s all.”

She gently grabbed his hand while stroking it with her thumb, a way to soothe him. “What happened?” She wondered. “Just business, just… leave it, yeah?” His eyebrows were knitted together while his response sounded rather annoyed. He turned away from her to continue his way out. “I can see it bothers you, love. You know you can talk to me.” She carefully tried again in hopes he wouldn’t torture himself with his own thoughts.

In a swift motion he turned around, throwing his cap her way and pointing his finger in her direction. While she tried to dodge his cap, his eyes widened and his face flushed with rage. “Shut up! Yeah?! Fuckin’ shut up!” His voice was loud while his breath quickened. “I told you it’s fuckin’ business. Now fuck off!”

She gulped at his sudden outburst, her eyes widened in hazy uncertainty. Neither of them making the first move to leave the kitchen. His narrowed eyes were overshadowed by anger but she noticed the glint of sadness lacing them. The tension in his face slowly faded while he looked at the woman he loved so dearly, knowing she meant well but his anger was getting the best of him too easily.

He turned around and left the space, eager to get outside. The sound of the heavy door slamming shut made her turn to watch him trough the window as he threw the first object he could find along the gravelly path, followed by many curse words and shouting.

A deep sigh fell off her lips while she felt the concern gnaw at her. The funny, charming and above all; sweet guy was still there but since his return from war, his ability to regulate his anger was barely there. He claimed he didn't came back with a trauma like his brothers but for his loved ones it became more visible with each outburst.

Sometimes she could calm him, sometimes he knew he just needed time and sometimes none of them knew how to handle it.

Her hand carefully rested on his broad back, letting him know that she was there. She kept quiet, not wanting to disturb his peace as she sat down next to him on a log. His head hung low, resting against his hands.

“You deserve better, y’know.” A low mumble came from his lips. “How can I get something better when I already have the best?” She looked at his frame while gently stroking his back. He shook his head softly. “Not the time for sarcastic jokes, eh.”

“It’s not sarcastic nor a joke.” She tilted her head, noticing his tear stained face. Her chest felt hollow at the sight as she wrapped her arms around him, carefully pulling him against her body. He rested his head against her chest, his arms finding their ways around her waist.

“He wanted me to kill her.” He confessed after a while. “I couldn’t do it, she’s a good woman.” Her hand gently stroked his hair. “Who?”

“Mrs. Changretta. She was our teacher. I remember her giving us sweets and…” He stopped, allowing himself to take a deep breath. “I fuckin’ threatened her, she was fuckin’ scared but I couldn’t do it.” He sat up straight.

She took his hand, stroking it softly with her thumb. “You made a good decision.” He turned his head to look at her, eyes tired and sore. “Her husband is dead, Arthur did it.” She nodded hesitantly at his words. “How is that a good decision?” Her gaze held his, no good excuse coming to mind. “You saved her.”

He looked down at his shoes, shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe.”

Spoken words made place for silence as they held each others hand. The soft breeze found its way to them, slowly blowing trough their hair while the sun gently caressed their skin.

“I didn’t mean it.” John spoke up, turning his attention back to her. “I know I can’t take it back but I didn’t want you to shut up or fuck off. Not any of that. I’m sorry.” She squeezed his hand softly. “I know. It’s fine.” She assured him.

“You fuckin’ surprised me with apple pie which smelled so damn good and I just treat you like shit.” Her knuckles gently stroked his cheek while his remorseful gaze took her in. "I forgive you."

"I'll do better, I fuckin' promise." He added, his hands finding their way to the sides of her face, lips connecting with hers as they melted into a deep, meaningful kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too, John.” She smiled, giving him one more kiss. His arms wrapped around her body, pulling her closer to him as their bodies connected in a way that made the monster in him fall silent.

Tagging some people who might like it, obviously no pressure to read it if it's not your cup of tea! @brummiereader @call-sign-shark @peakyswritings @zablife @emotionalcadaver @runnning-outof-time @tea-atfive @raincoffeeandfandoms @lovemissyhoneybee

[kingmagnificoofrosas]

NIGHTMARE

The air was heavy with thick hot smoke as screams of agonizing terror pierced the night. Bright flames devoured building after building, mercilessly destroying and killing everything in its way. Man, animals, objects. Everything crumbled to ash.

Magnifico stood on his balcony, eyes wide in horror and limbs frozen in panic. “No …” he uttered breathlessly, “No …”

His entire kingdom had turned into an inferno. In an instant he turned, stumbled through his room and down the corridors. 

“Myrah!” He hollered, “Myrah, where are you?”  A window to his left suddenly exploded and he gasped. More flames leaped onto rugs and furniture and spread down the hallways within seconds. “Myrah!” He cried once more, frantically searching for his wife. “M’fhíorghrá, answer me!”

Dashing from door to door, Magnifico dodged the growing fire and falling debris. But no matter how much he cried for his wife, he got no reply.

Fear and shattering guilt overcame him like an avalanche and he had to hold onto a wall. Right at that moment, one of the curtains crashed in front of him, cutting off his way. Magnifico flinched backward, coughing and shielding his eyes from the spitting flames.

It happened again. How did it happen again? 

In the blink of an eye, he was suddenly right outside his palace. People ran in all directions, wailing, yowling, burning. He recognized their faces, knew their names, remembered their former wishes. 

Before he could call out to them however, one of the stone pillars near him cracked, seconds from collapsing. He noticed a child standing below the crumbling roof, calling for its mother, and without hesitation threw himself at it, shoving it out of the way just in time. The pillar fell, the mother sweeped the child into her arms and Magnifico rolled to the side, hardly escaping being crushed. Dust and hot ash filled his nose and mouth and he coughed. The glowing heat made it almost impossible to breathe.

“Magnifico!”

Lightning shot through his nerve system at the sound of his soulmate's voice. She was there! She was alive! Within seconds, he scrambled to his feet and hurled around. His heart leapt in his chest for a second before being ripped into shreds. Myrah tumbled toward him, almost burned to the bones. Crying out like a beaten animal, he dove forward to catch her before she could fall and sank to his knees with her.

“No! No no no! My love ... my life! Hold on I’ll-” Magnifico desperately tried to recall his supernatural abilities to heal the wounds he knew were her sure death, but the blue light refused to surface. “Come on!” He growled at his shaking hands, “come on!”

“Ma-”

His head turned back to her, “Hold on, my love! I’ll fix this! I’ll save y-”

“Magn-” Myrah coughed, compulsing in pain and trying to move her lips to talk to her husband, but before his name could fully come over her lips, her strength left her, her eyes closed and her body went limp. 

“Myrah?” Magnifico breathed, “Myrah? Sweetheart?”

No response.

"No. Oh God, no! Myrah!” He gently shook his wife, utter panic flooding his being, “Please! You cannot - I cannot lose you too! Please!" Again he shook her, stroked her face and hair over and over and wiped ash, dirt and blood away from her cheeks, but her eyes stayed closed. The limpness of his wife cut his soul like a hot sword. His mind refused to believe it. Once more he shook her but to no avail. “No, my love! No! Wake up! Open your eyes, darling! Myrah!” 

Nothing. 

“No ....”

The queen, his wife, his soulmate was dead but he couldn’t accept it. How could he accept it? 

Her broken body tightly in his hold, he bent over with a choked sob. Tears came like a flood as his entire being was consumed by indescribable agony and he let out the loudest, most heart-broken wail a man could ever sound. 

~

Myrah woke in an instant as she felt her husband cramp and twist in their sheets, flailing his limbs between breathless whimpering. Immediately she rose and reached out to hold his arms down. 

“Magnifico!” She called, “wake up, mi vida! ” 

His head tossed left and right and Myrah almost had to climb onto her husband to pin him down. 

“Shhht! Wake up! Wake up!” 

Suddenly he shot upright with a scream, his blue eyes wide as plates, his chest rising and falling in quick heavy breaths. 

Myrah sighed in relief. Now that he was awake, it was easier to get him out of his panic attack.

“All is well, mi amor. It was just a nightmare.”

Still disorientated and caught in the terror of the things his mind had played on him, he hyperventilated, sweat dripping from his forehead. The pain of losing his wife and the guilt of failing to keep the past from repeating was ever so present. He could still hear the screams, smell the horrible stench of burning flesh mixed with blood, dirt and fire. But even worse than the sight of the burned corpses, was his dead wife in his arms. The emotions overwhelmed him, nausea rose in his throat and he gagged.

“Magnifico! Look at me!” Myrah gently touched his face, “Look at me, my darling!”

Her husband flinched for a second but then slowly turned his head and she smiled. “There you go! Keep looking at me! Breathe with me! Deep breaths!”

Magnifico followed her breathing until his own had calmed and his pulse slowed down. 

“Well done, mi vida." She wiped his loose bangs and the sweat from his forehead and kissed his trembling lips. “I’m here. It was a nightmare.”

“M- …. Myrah.” He choked through his rising tears. “Rosas ... burned … people … my people burned … You were … I- I lost you! I couldn't-”

“Shhht!" Lovingly she caressed both his cheeks, continuing to wipe his tears and sweat. “It was another nightmare. I'm safe. Rosas is safe! All is well, mi vida.” 

He mustered her for a while, assuring himself he was truly awake. “Myrah?” 

“Yes, mi vida. I’m here.” She kissed him again, once more swiping his bangs away. 

She was real. She was there. It truly had only been another one of his raging nightmares. Utter relief flooded him and he sobbed. His head fell into the nape of his wife’s neck and she wrapped him in her arms. 

“Shhht! I know. I know.” She whispered, stroking his back as he cried. 

“Oh, Myrah!” He whimpered hoarsely, “I’m … so … tired!”  

Myrah felt her own throat tighten and her heart ache. 

“I got everything I could have ever dreamt of and more. Everything is perfect and yet … the past just won’t let me rest! I … I can’t bear this anymore!” 

His entire body trembled in her embrace. Her strong husband, who usually always carried himself proudly, now wept against her shoulder like a child. Right in this moment, he was no longer king but the boy once broken so many years ago. 

“Oh my darling, my life!” She breathed as she carefully lifted his face to rest her own close to his and combed through his dark silver hair.

“I know this is incredibly hard, it hurts terribly, and you just wish to forget, but it will get better. I promise you! And I'm here to help you in this pain. Each step of the way I will go with you, mi amor. Until the pain has faded into a scar and the memory of the past into yet a mere shadow. I’m here for you and I will be for eternity!”

The next time Magnifico woke up was early in the morning. As soon as his eyes opened, he turned his head to the side to check for his wife. And there she was. Deeply asleep. Her weight on his chest immediately filled him with relief and his pulse calmed once more. Gently, he stroked one of her auburn locks from her forehead and kissed it. Taking in her beauty for a few more seconds. God, he loved and adored her beyond comprehension. 

He must have fallen asleep in her arms after his melt down and over the course of the last hours their position had shifted. 

Carefully, he removed himself from the embrace, made sure she lay comfortable and then left their bed as quietly as possible. Throwing his thin morning robe around his shoulders, he passed the edge on which Julius was rolled up, sleeping as well, and fondled his head before striding out on the balcony. 

The sky was already turning indigo and the horizon, at the edge of the ocean, pale yellow. 

Magnifico closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He still felt awfully tired. Exhausted. As if he'd not slept at all. 

The sweet singing of birds painted a stark contrast to the roaring sounds of terror that still gnawed at the edge of his consciousness. 

Why couldn't he just forget it? Why did his past still haunt him like a never tiring predator?  

Before he knew it, his eyes started burning again but this time, he refused to cry. Instead, he stubbornly forced himself to concentrate on the sunrise. 

A light breeze hit his face and made his loose bangs sway back. He closed his eyes once more, breathing in the salty air and savoring the scent of oleander and roses it carried along. 

Sometimes he still couldn’t believe that he didn’t need to endure his regular mental episodes alone anymore. Now there was Myrah, who caught him whenever he fell. 

But as grateful as he was that she helped him through his pain, he rather had the whole trauma be done with once and for all. 

Slowly the sun started climbing over the edge of the ocean, throwing its first rays across the land. Magnifico blinked into the golden light, sounding yet another tired sigh. 

Suddenly there was a soft rustle behind him. Two gentle arms wrapped themselves around his waist from behind and he smiled. Her touch felt like taking a deep breath after a long dive. 

“You’re up already?” 

“I wanted to watch the sunset.” Not a lie, more a forced truth. 

The hold around him loosened and his wife stepped next to him. There was no fooling her and he didn’t mean to. 

“When did it stop for you?” He asked quietly. 

“The nightmares?”

His lips slimmed. 

“A few years.”

“I’ve got these for over two decades now … I’ve let the past go and it shouldn’t affect me as much anymore but-” 

“Magnifico,” Myrah took his hands into hers, “you are way too hard on yourself! Be a little bit more patient. There is no right or wrong as to how long the process of healing has to be.” 

“How much longer - I … I’m terrified to lose you too one day …this fear …it wrecks me!” he uttered brokenly. “I’ve lost everything I ever loved once before … I cannot bear it a second time …”

Myrah lifted her gaze. Her own eyes burned with tears now. She hated seeing her soulmate in so much distress. “I’m afraid as well.” She admitted, “after you’ve destroyed the book and sacrificed yourself to save Rosas … I thought I had to die as well. To have to live the rest of my life without you until I could see you again on the other side? … That was hell on earth. But-” she reached out to touch his cheek, “the great father let you return to me. And nothing can ever separate us again!” 

“How do I deserve you?” He smiled lovesick, chuckling along as she did. 

“Only you deserve me! Mi vida.” 

Leaning forward, he kissed her and her hands dove past his face into his hair. 

“I love you!” He breathed into the kiss, “I love you so much-” 

Her hands wandered from his hair down to his neck and back and then to his chest.

“I love you!” She replied, once again locking eyes with him. “I cannot erase your past, but I can help ease the pain.” 

He almost shuddered at the touch of her fingertips spreading on his chest.

“I can help you forget those nightmares for a bit …” 

Oh God! 

Her lips traveled across his skin like bolts of electricity all the way back to his neck and jaw before she gently pulled him closer to her body. 

His mind started swimming. In the best way possible. Whatever she did, it always worked. Always cracked him open and lightened up his soul. She was his beacon, his lighthouse in the darkest night.

And he held onto her as well. Like a drowning man onto a rope. Kissing her passionately between gasps for air. If she hadn't guided him back into their bedroom, he would have helplessly stumbled against the next pillar or wall, maybe even face planted the floor. 

She smiled against his lips and Magnifico wondered for the billionth time how it was possible for his stomach to tingle that strongly. 

Yes, right. She was his soulmate, this was everyday life and yet it was new to him every time. 

He let her guide him all the way to their bed, he’d forgotten how to walk anyway. With the most gentle pressure, she pressed him down on his shoulders to sit and before he knew it, she was on his lap. Together they shifted backward further onto the bed. 

Julius used the momentum to head to the door. Smirking to himself as he left the royal bedroom. He would take a long stroll through the gardens.

Oh, Lord! Am I still dreaming? Am I truly awake?  “Myrah …” 

More and more of her tender kisses showered Magnifico and he prayed she wouldn’t stop. Each place her soft lips touched tingled, almost burned. Once more they found his and he closed his eyes, tightening his hold around her back and waist. 

Could one get drunk on love? One part of him wanted to reply with as much intensity to everything she did but this time he just couldn’t fight against her and he didn’t want to. There were times where they both equalized each other while melting their endless love and their souls together, there were times where he gave more to her and this time it was her, who gave more. 

He had to do nothing but let her flood him with all the love her soul could offer. Let her give herself to him fully. This kind of giving was the highest peak of joy. An honor, a pleasure like nothing else on earth. 

She was bone of his bone and one flesh with him. Only her soul made to link with his like no other. A unity for eternity. Ever growing in love and wisdom. 

“Myrah!” Her name was the only thing left leaving his lips in gasps, breathless hisses and whimpers of purest pleasure. One gaze into the sun-flooded forest of her eyes, that intense look grazing every part of his soul, was almost enough to send him over the edge. 

Her love indeed silenced every sound in his mind, calmed the raging storm in him and pushed the hellish memories away. He thanked the great father exceedingly as his world was filled with Myrah. Tenderly and deeply passionately. 

[pumpkin-pi-e]

Writing prompt: Yandere erasermic with darling on their period.

[Enter Hizashi and Shouta playing a board game on their day off, Shouta just knows his husband is cheating, they both do, he just can’t figure out how he’s doing it, much to the blonde’s smug delight.]

You heard them before you saw them. Voices filtered down the hall as you laboriously made your way towards the commotion.

“Don’t hate the player, Shou, hate the game.”

“We both know you’re cheating, you could at least admit to it.”

“No bluffs, just luck.”

Rounding the corner, you entered the living room only to see Yamada leaned over the coffee table, using both arms to gather a pile of goods to himself, grinning like the canary that outsmarted the cat.

The pro heroes were sat around the piece of furniture in their casuals, hair down and fuzzy socks, a board between them. An airy melody of jazz dances and drifts in the air, mingling with the spice of fresh-baked cookies; the soft glow of the television cast warmth on the matching mugs swirling with chocolate and topped with marshmallows that bobbed to the mellow beat.

“How are you doing this?” The erasure hero demanded, red irises darting back and forth between the gloating emcee and the board with a scowl.

“Just get good,” He threw back matter of factly.

“Get on my level, scrub!”

At that, Aizawa makes direct eye contact with the voice hero, looking him dead in the eyes as he lifts an arm, a blonde brow raises in question at the stare down, and in one sweeping motion he knocks the board from the coffee table, pieces and all.

...

The DJ takes a moment to process, eyeing the mess of scattered pieces silently before raising his gaze to meet his partner’s, emerald clashing with charcoal.

“No one likes a sore loser, babe.”

In response, the teacher merely flicked a remaining pawn from the table.

“If you aren’t going to play fair then I won’t either.”

A pout tugs at Hizashi’s lip for all of five seconds before he’s springing back, and on the attack. Shouta starts at the smolder he’s suddenly on the receiving end of, thrown off by his swift change in attitude, watching with narrowed eyes of suspicion as his spouse crawls towards him on all fours, wanton, expression dripping with carnality, and further scrambling discarded bits of the game in his wake. He reflexively shrinks further into the couch. “Not a fan of chess? We can play another game, baby.” Shouta backpedals, making the symbol of the cross. “We’re supposed to be having a relaxing evening, remember?” He didn’t sign up for strenuous activity. “Playing board games.” He furthered his point by sparing a quick glance at the tall stack of boxes resting forlornly at the corner of the table, indignant in their stillness as if to say: are we a joke to you? “An idea of yours, mind you.” He sternly pressed, looking back, not daring to let his lascivious lover leave his sight for more than a second. Only to find him much too close for comfort. “Here, kitty, kitty.” He croons as Shouta continues to evade his clutches. Done with foreplay, Hizashi pounces.

He jumped into his lap with enthusiasm, pulling a grunt from the body below, throwing his arms around Shouta’s neck, he threw his hair back to better grin down at his captive.“How ‘bout stripper twister?”

“Get off.”

“And if I don’t?” Slow sensual swirls over his seat drew a startled gasp that tapered into a hiss, Hizashi’s hips moved in perfect circles, throwing it back like a dancer as eager hands roamed the expanse of his husband’s broad chest, grabbing greedy handfuls of his generous pecs. “You gonna purr for me, Chaton de sexe?” He all but panted into the other’s ear, getting worked up from the promises he continued to whisper in French, voice pitching and reaching unspeakable lows with the help of his quirk, relishing the drawn-out whine he received in response. Shouta’s hips canted of their own accord—and honestly, you couldn’t blame him. Your face was aflame, and you were a mere spectator. His breathing picked up to match his better half at the absolute filth filtering in his ears. Or was it expressions of admiration and praise? Aizawa couldn’t tell, he only knew it sounded like heaven, although he suspected the radio host’s words were straight from hell—pure sin. He fisted Yamada’s shirt to ground himself, knuckles turning white in the hideositie’s fabric. Now understanding those

‘eargasms’ the loud blonde was always raving about and claiming to get, especially with those new headphones of his.

“I keep telling you I don’t understand French.” Shouta grumbled, in a huffy mood over the sweet tunes his lover coaxed from him. He looked off to the side to hide his blush, retreating into his turtleneck, reminding you of a tortoise receding into its shell; in doing so, his eyes widened imperceptibly, though the way his pupils dilated, blowing wide as he finally became aware of your presence was unmissable. He drank in the object of his obsession with unquenchable appetence, having been denied the sight for far too long. Sustaining eye-contact, he let his head fall backwards onto the couch cushion, exposing his neck for Hizashi to devour; he pulled him closer so that their bodies were flush together before grinding up into the welcoming heat, a staccato of low sighs leaving him with each roll, earning an appreciative hum from the one ravishing his throat. Hizashi met him thrust for desperate thrust as he nipped and sucked the sensitive skin into blossoming hickeys. Aizawa wasn’t given long to admire as Hizashi recaptured his attention; sensing his distraction, he seized his chin so that they were once again facing one another, commanding his gaze like the diva he was. Shōta rolled his eyes, the corner of his lips twitching up into a smirk.

“There’s no need, baby! Not when I could just show you.” His words were smooth as silk and caused a delighted shiver to run up Aizawa’s spine, his toes curling at the deep velvety tone they were delivered in. Grabbing a handful of blonde tresses, he pulled the other down for an impassioned kiss; the effect was instantaneous, Hizashi squealed happily, groaning his approval against his spouse’s lips, a sweet little cry Shōta was all too pleased to swallow. A frisky kitty, and feeling particularly mischievous, he yanked. hard. So hard in fact you’d be surprised if the DJ’s neck hadn’t snapped. “ahhhHHHHH-!” The force behind the tug disconnected them and Yamada’s shout of ecstasy resounded throughout the entire apartment. The floor vibrated beneath your feet and your ears rang from the reverb. You clutched them, dropping to your knees in a vain attempt to block out the sound, and your eyes scrunched with the effort. You knew he had a set of pipes, but damn. You couldn’t even hear your own thoughts. Everything was shaking, your body hummed, and it felt like your brain was being scrambled. So focused on trying to tune him out, you failed to notice that the foundation had stopped quavering; but you caught on when you’d regained the ability to hear yourself think. Rising shakily, you allowed your arms to fall; looking back at the pair, you saw Aizawa with his hand around Yamada’s neck. “-eckk—!” The sound cut off at the hand gripping his throat “The neighbors are going to complain,” and it only tightened, eliciting a choked moan from Hizashi. “again.” With no small amount of effort did he raise his head in order to flash his man a cheeky smile, straining against the grip holding his hair back. “But I bet they know your name, handsome.” He reared forward, diving back in with a ferocity that knocked the erasure hero back, hailing him with a flurry of perfervid kisses and leaving a few blonde strands behind. Shōta received him with open arms, and you winced as you heard their teeth bash together in Hizashi’s voraciousness. It didn’t escape your notice how his voice had lost its cunning. His once honeyed words ebbed into hoarse calls of his partner’s name—lacking his usual loquacity.

For someone whose jobs centered on the use of his words, they seemed to be failing him; desperate strangled noises left him between each frenzied kiss. In his urgency, he tugged impatiently at Shouta’s bottoms, you shifted awkwardly, debating if it would best to try again at a different time. Aizawa caught your movement from the corner of his eye.

Although he didn’t mind an audience, he felt he should let his husband know.

Removing the hand from Hizashi’s neck, he used it to gently push him back, their kiss breaking with an audible smack—

“mmph!?”

Hizashi voiced his complaint, a whine built in the back of his throat as he once again tried to close the distance between them, blindly following his lips; Shōta dodged by holding a hand to the emcee’s face, stilling him. Yamada’s green eyes finally snapped open and he looked around in confusion.

“Wha???” He sounded so lost.

“Wha’s happenin’?”

Shōta’s head craned towards you.

“We’ve got company.”

Hizashi followed his line of sight and those emerald eyes landed on you. They were misty and he was still a bit disoriented; It took him a second to register but after blinking the tears away his face lit up with gladness, a gasp left him and his hands clasped his mouth. He shrilled in elation, bouncing excitedly on his husband’s lap. He shot to his feet, fighting the desire to rush over and squeeze the life out of you in an affectionate hug. The DJ waved exuberantly instead, “Hey, babygirl!” His voice was rough, a cough racking his frame before he continued, ”H-how are you?” He questioned softly, carefully, treading lightly, as if you’d scurry off if he so much as raised his voice or moved too quickly.

His face glowed from their gameplay turned hot and heavy. You knew better than to assume it was out of modesty because you had learned they held no shame. You recalled one morning where you’d awoken to tremors; the penthouse shook so violently you thought there was an earthquake. In your half-awakened state you’d panicked, ripped off your covers and sprinted into the living-room spouting about said earthquake, and you felt like you were in the Twilight Zone when Aizawa snorted into the back of his palm, snickering in amusement amidst your tirade, he’d looked as if he were battling laughter, his shoulders trembling. Hizashi rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly as he hurriedly explained there was nothing to be alarmed for. He’d just gotten a little carried away and—! Unable to contain himself, Shota had burst into peals of uncontrollable laughter as the hilarity of the situation finally became too much for him, something you’d never seen him do, you felt like you’d witnessed an anomaly. He seemed to shock even himself, his hands flying to his mouth, endeavoring to smother the traitorous noise to no avail, meanwhile Hizashi whined and hid his face in his husband’s shirt, said man wheezing and gasping for air, jostling him with each breath. It was then that you’d stopped to take in their position. You’d soured at the conclusion you’d come to, as obvious as a slap in the face. Having leveled them with a glare, you’d turned and stalked black to your room, throwing a dirty look over your shoulder for good measure. Howls of laughter and frenetic apologies for disrupting your sleep played you out. A dull thump followed by frightened calls of a certain raven-haired teacher’s name could be heard, mirth having overtaken him and effectively taken him down.

No Shame.

The radio star always wore his heart on his sleeve, a trait you’d initially found charming; meaning you could practically see him restraining himself; Hizashi’s fingers danced in antsiness, wanting so badly to reach out for you; the fidgety digits drew your attention and he promptly clasped them behind his back, offering a disarming smile when your eyes flitted back to his face.

“Hello, kitten. Did you need something?” He wasn’t as barefaced as his companion with his delight at your appearance, though both his expression and words were filled with warmth, the latter holding a tinge of innocence as if he hadn’t known you were there all the while.

You’d been a bit moody the last few days, never hostile, just a bit more withdrawn, and they were ever so happy to see you up and about again, they were always happy to see you.

Your eyes squint at him but your head tips forward a fraction in what could barely pass for a nod.

“Looks like we’re gonna hafta put our game on ice.” The DJ commented, looking over his shoulder to regard his partner whose gaze was fixed on his ass. You couldn’t see his face, but you could hear the grin in Hisashi’s voice, “Enjoyin’ the view?” Shōta scoffed, scowling up at his husband as he crossed his arms. “‘Just luck’, huh?” Now that the voice hero was standing, he had a perfect view of his backside, it’d virtually been shoved in his face when he’d stood; while he’d initially given it a cursory glance, miffed at having it block his field of vision like a freaking solar eclipse, with how tight his pants were, he could make out the familiar shapes jammed into his back pocket.

“What can I say? With this ass I’m always winning.” Hizashi winked, and quick to change the subject he turned back to you, tossing a few pawns from his pockets and into the discarded pile.

“What’cha need, beauty queen?”

Oh god, by some absolute fucking miracle, you’d managed to drag your tired body out of bed and stumble into the sitting area with the full intention of demanding supplies, only to freeze up from a pang of embarrassment under the inquisitive gaze they pinned you with, now the subject of poignant interest.

“I...I need—um...”

This isn’t in any way going how you envisioned it would; you’d mentally rehearsed, you were gonna waltz in here and demand that they—if they wouldn’t let you leave, the least they could do was ensure your basic needs were accounted for, and you had every mind to tell them such; unfortunately for you, all that came out were stammers and soft squeaks resemblant of the pet name they so loved calling you.

“Kitten?”

Aizawa stood to join his husband’s side, both of them hanging on your words, patiently awaiting a response.

“I n-need,” It was so much more embarrassing than you’d thought, but it wasn’t like you had anything to be shameful about; what you were experiencing was natural and normal, and you refused to be ashamed over it, if anything they were the ones who should be ashamed for not taking into account that at some point you were going to require certain essentials; their claim after they’d swept you away was that they were hgoing to see to your every need, just ask, and you’d receive—how you’d never have to worry about anything ever again. In the current state of affairs, you didn’t think they were doing a very good job.

You just wished you could find the nerve to voice such concerns.

“uh...” no longer able to maintain eye contact, you looked off towards of the kitchen; your skin prickled, your head was pounding, and you were overheating. You felt light on your feet and in this moment you just wanted the floor to swallow you up; if it were possible, you’d recant every past rejected wish to Saint Nick in exchange for a new one, a vanishing quirk. ‘Cause no way were they letting you walk away from this. Not after you’d garnered their attention. This was a mistake. You couldn’t do this. Maybe you should just—

“Pumpkin?” More gentle prodding. “What’s the matter? You ain’t lookin’ too hot.” (Harsh jab from Aizawa) “Ow! You know that’s not what I—”

“I mean you always look hot—smokin’!” He quickly rephrased, “It’s just uh...ya look kinda...sick? Like yer gonna hurl.”

“It’s okay, Kitten. You can ask us anything.”

“Yeah! Y’now you can come ta us with anything.”

“I-“ Your world spins, and suddenly, you’re seeing topside. A momentary loss of balance, courtesy of the headache between your eyes, has them rushing to your side; one of them scoops you into their arms, instantly coddling you. You look up to see frightened green eyes, and a halo of blonde tresses that tickled your nose as they fell into your face.

Oh. It was Hi-Fi.

“My poor baby! Are you okay?!” He’s peppering kisses all over your cheeks.

A hand presses against your temple, it’s coolness giving you moderate relief. “She’s warm,” Low-Fi.

“Pretty kitty, please let us know what you need; whatever it is, we’ll do our best to provide it.” Shouta cups the side of your face, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb and Hizashi places a kiss on your heated forehead.

“All’s ya gotta do is phone in that request, listener!”

You burned with more than just a temperature. Indignation coursed through your veins, burning you from the inside out. You shouldn’t have to rely on them for anything. You’d had your own job, your own money, your own business; you hadn’t had to lean on anyone, loathed the very thought of it; and climbing the sharp-edged ladder of success—clawing your way to the top, lacerated palms and displaced qualms, you’d made certain you’d never again have to depend on another soul for as long as you lived. Dull from being doled disappointments, you were of the gospel that you couldn’t count on anyone but yourself; you bought your own things, you felt your own tits, a certified boss ass bitch. When you’d first started seeing the couple, it was you that picked up the tab despite their protests, you who wooed them with fancy gifts, reveling in their flushed expressions—and as flattering as it all was, how could you ever come to rely on them the way the heroes wanted if you had it all figured out? Quickly enamored, the pair was swift to offer you a room in the penthouse, their hearts burned whenever you were apart; but to their dismay you’d declined; you already had your own home, one you’d worked hard to obtain, taken the time decorate, a home you were unwilling to part with; and truthfully, you simply hadn’t been ready for such a transition. Lovely as their companionship was and as much as you joyed in their attachment, you’d only been dating them a few months, it was a little too soon for all that. Of course they were disinclined to accept your answer. They chipped, and chipped, practically took a sledgehammer to that ladder, and marveled as you fell spectacularly, like an angel falling from heaven, their angel, who fell right into their arms. And you watched as the life you’d built, and tried so hard to maintain came tumbling down, everything you tried to salvage crumbled to dust in your resentful un-relinquishing grip, and of course they were there to help pick up the pieces. The metaphorical scars, and phantom pains rendered all for naught. You hated needing anyone for anything, and they wanted you to rely on them for everything. The thought embittered you, of giving them exactly what they wanted, and despite your pride you swallowed that bitter pill; after all, no one can fill those of your needs that you won’t let show right?

“I...I need feminine products?”

Hizashi’s brows knitted in befuddlement, and you could practically see the cogs turning in his brain as he processed your words, mentally cataloging every sanitary item he’d purchased.

You had a plethora of bath and beauty products, he’d made certain of it. Shampoo, conditioner, facial cleanser, perfume, shaving gel, body wash, etc. He’d ensured your bathroom was fully stocked. “Songbird, sweetie, yer gonna hafta be a bit more specific.”

Maybe you could say it without actually saying it.

“Um. You know, like, feminine hygiene products?” You stressed, hoping they’d catch your drift, but they continued giving you blank stares.

The pair exchange a look, perhaps to see if the other was making any more sense of the situation than they were.

“You’re going to need to be frank with us, kitten.”

“Yeah! Rip it off, like a bandaid!”

“Ineedpadstampons,femininewipes,femininewash,andmaybeadouche?” Your face was on fire but it was impossible for them to misconstrue with how painfully candid you were. Stealing a glance, you saw they both sported similar blushes; Hizashi held a pink tinge around his nose that bled into his cheeks and Shōta adopted a rosy tint; their coloring more out of shame than embarrassment due to their oversight.

In a race to rectify their mistake, their voices overlapped, tripping over themselves to scramble for apologies.

“Oh my gosh, we’re so sorry, princess!”

“We’re very sorry, kitten. It was never our intention to-”

“-we’ll do better! Me ‘n Shou’ll be better about takin’ care-a you-!”

“-we hadn’t even considered—”

“-I promise! I swear—!”

“-just let us know what you need, just tell us and we’ll—”

“-Yes! Anything, anything at all-!”

You already did.

“-It won’t happen again, kitten. We promise—”

“-Oh god, I’m a fuckin’ failuuuuuuure.” Hizashi bemoans, having been the one in charge of your toiletries.

Their remorse was palpable and their guilt endless.

Although you shouldn’t, you were starting to feel bad for how much they were kicking themselves. Their self-flagellation was seriously taking the wind out of your sails; your own frustration paling in comparison. Not to mention you were still under the weather, and their constant back and forth was worsening your dizzy spell. Eagle eyed, Aizawa takes notice and undergoes the task of reigning in his husband, the blonde pressing impossibly close and nuzzling desperately into your neck, apology after apology spilling from his lips. Shōta grasps his shoulder, but to his surprise you beat him to it.

Your head inclined and a hand covered his mouth, halting his speech. The pain behind your eyes praised you. “Hizashi, you guys, it’s not that deep, stop being so dramatic.” He pulled back to appraise you, he didn’t seem convinced. “...I forgive you, okay?”

He lit up like a Christmas tree, perking up instantly. You were squished against his chest once more in a suffocating hug. A joyous shout of, ‘FUCK YEAH!’ had you cringing away from Hizashi as he fist pumped ecstatically.

“Not so loud, ‘Zashi.” Came a gentle reproof, resulting in another apology from the boisterous blonde.

“Sorry, lil listener.”

...

“Do you..uh...need ‘em right now?”

You nod.

“Cool! Cool! No problem-o! Uh...Just run that list by us again. Hit us one more time, baby!”

“You said it so quickly we hardly caught what was said.”

Heat rushed to your face. You couldn’t fucking do it again. The first time just about killed you.

They must have sensed your demur because the pros upped their persuasion.

“You don’t have to be so shy, kitten. We don’t mind. It’s really no trouble.”

“You don’t gotta get embarrassed, it’s only us!”

“We only want to provide for you.”

“Most guys don’t wanna hear about that stuff...” You were pretty sure they didn’t even know what those things looked like.

“Um, songbird? W-we aren’t, uh, it don’t bother us. Like, we aren’t grossed out or nothin’.” Usually loud and lively, Hizashi was soft-spoken and sincere as he gently clasped your cheeks, encouraging you to look him in the eyes. Taking your smaller hands in his own, Shōta pitches in as well.

“We can handle a little blood, it’s sort of unavoidable in our profession.”

When you’re stubbornly tight-lipped, the emcee proposes a different idea.

“K! How ‘bout you type out whatcha need in Shō’s phone? That way we’ll have a list to check off, make sure we don’t forget anything.” He looks to his partner to see if he’s down with the plan and Shōta’s already pulling out his mobile. “One of us should stay behind with kitten. That could have been a nasty fall.”

“Shō! Hold KitKat,” It’s an abbreviation of ‘kitty cat’ one of Hizashi’s many nicknames for you. “I gotta hit up Google.”

You’re carefully transferred to Aizawa; the hero plops into the couch with you in tow, sagging into the cushiony oasis. Once you’re settled in his lap, he hands you his phone; It’s new, sleek, black and already opened to the notes app; a bulletin greets you, the yellow bar blinking in and out of existence as it awaits your command.

“So which one-a us is headin’ out? We could all go, could do a pickup order?”

Any other time you would’ve jumped at the opportunity. But you felt like absolute trash. You weren’t interested in going anywhere but back to bed.

“I’ll go. I have a few things to grab anyways.” Figures. The erasure hero was even keener on keeping you indoors than his husband.

“Anything we need for the house? I might as well get them while I’m out.”

“Oh! Now that‘cha mention’ it, I could use some-” There’s a back and forth as they discourse on what supplies and groceries are low on stock, ingredients and meal planning for the following week; their chatter is drowned out whilst you busy yourself inputting the necessities you need into the phone with nimble fingers, tapping away at the large screen and carrying a certain finesse that impresses Shōta, the type of guy that just lazily swipes his thumb across the keyboard. He urged you closer with a delicate motion, complimenting your dexterity and gracing you with a chaste peck on the cheek. They ask your opinion on numerous things, how you felt about particular dishes, if you were running out of anything, if you wanted Shōta to bring you back something, et cetera. Satisfied with your list, you handed the device back to its owner for him to pocket. “-babe, you already know munchkin hates carrots.” Hizashi chided, rooting through the cabinets and taking inventory.

“He needs a vegetable, you can’t allow him to eat junk all of the time. He’d live off of pizza rolls if you let him.”

“Hey!” He whirls around, “My meals are perfectly balanced! An’ comin’ from you?! Do you even know how much sugar we go through?? Not to mention the coffee I’m constantly havin’ to restock??”

Aizawa cuts his eyes at him. “This isn’t about me.” He reaches forward and nabs his mug from the table, taking you with him and taking a very long, very loud obnoxious sip. Hizashi just looks so done at the display. He chases it down with a marshmallow and slaps the ceramic against the glass once he’s finished. “My diet is perfectly healthy.”

“Mmhmm,” the emcee crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, “are you done?”

You’re jostled again as he pushes the mug forward. “This needs more sugar.”

Yamada sighs, coming to swipe it from the coffee table. And as he’s heading back to the kitchen, Shōta adds, “More whipped cream and marshmallows too.” A dramatic groan of, “Ughhhhhhhhh! I hate it here!” is given in response. You sit in silent amusement at their banter, enjoying the homey atmosphere.

Aizawa observes as you become increasingly agitated, squirming and fidgeting in fits and starts, restless. Quiet huffs accompanying each jerk. “Is something the matter, kitten?” “Uh...it’s-” You shift, and he isn’t sure if it’s bashfulness or something different. “It’s just cramps.”

“Tummy troubles?”

“Aw, d’ya want some Tums? Pepto Bismol?” Mic asks, carrying a plate of cookies. They’re placed on the table and Shouta’s mug is returned to its coaster. You lean forward, reaching for one of the confections. The aroma had teased you since the moment you’d left your room, titillating your tastebuds. Hizashi looks confused-concerned, when you grimace and fold into yourself, nursing your midsection. Not touching, only hovering protectively; your pelvis had protested the movement, making its disapproval known by way of stabbing pains.

“Noooo,” Your response was moaned, a lamentable sound that pierced their hearts. “not stomach pain, menstrual cramps.”

“Oh.” Their eyes leapt toward one another, sharing a panicked glance. “Well, we...might have some Tylenol?” Shōta’s words were optimistic though his tone was laced with uncertainty; he looked to his husband for confirmation. “Would that be okay?”

“Yeah! Uh...maybe? I dunno.” While his reply had started enthusiastically, a hype man at his core, he quickly lost confidence. It bled into hesitancy near the end. “I’m sure we got some though, lemme go check!” He raved, keeping the faith.

“Cutie ‘tootie?” There’s light rhythmic tapping at your knee. Mic squats beside you, his palm upturned as he presents you with a cookie. You gladly accept, thanking him. After administering a loving pat on the head he’s standing and off in search of pain relievers.

Suffice to say, you made quick work of the treat.

Shō was pleasantly surprised when you fastened his arms around your waist, wearing them like a seatbelt. You secured one of them in place with your own arm, as if he’d ever withhold his touch from you. You slipped your fingers between his, intertwining them together. He allowed you to do so, to manipulate him however you saw fit, willing and pliable under your ministrations. He flexed them, wondering at the sight, and sensation of his hands in yours. There’s a dusting of rouge to his cheek as he squeezes back.

——————————

“What did you find?” The erasure hero asked, drowsily watching his other half pace to and fro, Hizashi’s faced glued to his phone.

“Says it’s okay, how many ya want, honey bunch? One or two?”

“None.”

They glance at you as you’re quite adamant about not needing pills, and Shota begs to differ. The death grip on his hand spoke otherwise. And he thinks, as you clamp down on him after another contraction, that he knows what it’s like to be a husband in a delivery room. Something he never thought he’d experience. He isn’t complaining, anything to help ease your discomfort; he’d offered reassuring presses of his own, but he’d be lying if he said he understood your opposition.

“But-!” Hizashi looks put out, disappointed. “Dont’cha want somethin’ to take the edge off?”

Your head shakes negatively, and he frowns. He goes to insist but he gets one from his husband as well. He sighs, snagging a set of keys from the rack.

You’re honestly surprised they let it go so easily, they never let things go. In hindsight, you supposed you should’ve been a bit more suspicious, but you’re just glad they dropped the subject. You didn’t feel like fighting them on it.

“I’ll go warm up the ride, you warm up with princess before ya jet!” He leans down, and Shōta meets him halfway as they share a kiss. “‘Kay caffeine king?”

“Mmm.” He hums an affirmative, burrowing further into the couch, enjoying the heat you donate as you too make yourself comfortable by cuddling into his chest. His eyes close, and there’s a click indicating the blonde’s departure.

You sat for a bit, listening to his steady breaths, the lull of his heartbeat, rocked by the gentle rise and fall of his chest. You twist around to view him, and he cracks an eye open to regard you when you stir. You spend a good chunk of time simply taking him in, with him doing the same, and you aren’t sure whether it’s the lighting, music, the complicated feelings you can’t suppress—because as angry and frustrated as you are, you still care for them, terribly so, or perhaps it’s the cloying sap you tended to become around this time of month, but you find yourself extending a hand to brush his bang aside, revealing that handsome face you’d grown so fond of. You wished he’d show it more often; it was too cute to be hidden under all that fringe, and you tell him so.

“I like being able to see your face,” Deft fingers card through his hair, and using both you fashion the fluffy mane into a faux bun, “I’d love to see it more often. You should wear it up every once and awhile.”

His lidded eyes are wide on yours, a blush quickly blooming, and suffusing to his ears, cute little things you rarely ever see.

“Means I’d get to praise that pretty puss,” Shouta’s pupils are dilated, and you swear they’re expanding with each compliment as he basks in your hero-worship.

“and it means I get to do this!”

You smooch his forehead, another thing you’re usually unable to view. Like before, the erasure hero withdraws into his sweater, muttering a low, “Thanks, kitten...” His delivery is soft and tender, one of those diminutive winning smiles tugging at his cheeks. He’d always been so fun to tease, responsive and susceptible unlike his blonde counterpart, whose life’s mission was to see you self-implode. “You look so pretty in pink, sweet prince.” It was nice to flip the script now and then.

His dietary habits a sore point of contention, he grumbled, shaking his head so that his hair fell into his face once more, hiding his deepening flush from scrutiny. You toss it up again.

“There’s that cute face!” You coo, smiling broadly. Aizawa slouches even further into the couch, burrowing deeper into the cottony collar of his pullover. “Aww, cutie!zawa!” A thumb caresses his face, just below his eye where his scar lies, and ever so gently do you inch forward, and with as much care as you can muster, you kiss him, your lips meet the mark in a delicate press. But It wasn’t a blemish, it was the testimony of his survival. It did nothing to detract from his rugged beauty; in your opinion it only enhanced it. “This is your cutie mark!” You excitedly declared. You’re struck with the realization that if it hadn’t been for his tenacity, his strength, there’s a genuine possibility he wouldn’t be here with you now. Overcome with emotion, you crush him in a firm embrace, dolling adulation after adulation.

“You’re so strong.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

And despite everything,

“I’m so happy I was able to meet you. You and ‘Zashi.

“You guys...mean a lot to me.”

Weak, Shouta quivers in your hold; his Adam’s apple bobbed as he floundered helplessly to form an articulate response. His heart swelled with adoration, and he squeezed back just as tightly. Your sweet words were sending him, and having been left without your touch for a spell has him starved for your affections. “Can-” Your head raises at the wobbled utterance, and he connects your forehead with his, just barely able to restrain himself. His pupils are pulsing as he looks into your eyes—dilating back and forth, his gaze downright imploring. “May I kiss you?” An unspoken plea hung from his lips, and his words carried a noticeable tremble, showing just how affected he was. He eyed you with a reverence the likes you’ve never seen. You’re taken aback. Your breath falters, and you know it isn’t a platonic kiss he’s asking for. Anxious, your teeth worry at your bottom lip as you contemplated, those onyx pools track the movement, lingering perhaps a bit too long before his eyes met yours. He swallows thickly, “Please...?” He’s practically begging at this point. And to convey it he took your hand in his, guiding it to his throat where you felt palpitations dance wildly beneath your fingertips, showing you just what you did to him. He looked so vulnerable, so in need.

And he’s heartbroken when you pull away, withdrawing your warmth, and leaving him cold. “Kitten—” Shouta’s voice cracks, it’s a question, a plea, an extension of something that had been boiling beneath the surface, and it’s been a long time coming. He felt as if he’d endured an eternity without your loving-kindness, and after what felt like a lifetime were you finally sweetening back up to him, and bestowing the passion he’d pined for, the affection he and Hizashi panted after. You’d been so distant since they’d brought you home, and his heavy heart was breaking. Were you-were you upset with them?

You aren’t sure you’re comfortable with such an intimate gesture. Most of your days were spent in a domestic daydream, and while it was easy to fall into the illusion, playing house, and palling around, without fail, something always happened to shatter it, reminding you of the reality of your situation. In this case, needing items and being unable to go out and purchase them. Ordinarily, you have no issue with having whatever you required brought to you; you couldn’t say you were choked up over not having to endure crowded stores, and checkout lines that moved slower than molasses, but you preferred to buy those products yourself. It was so demoralizing to have to go up to them, like a child, and bring up your needs. The pair always gave your orders a once over, ensuring you weren’t ‘purchasing anything naughty’ ‘nothing you could get yourself into trouble with’ It felt like you couldn’t do anything without the heroes knowing about it. You probably couldn’t even pass a stool in this house without them knowing about it. And you just—didn’t think it was...healthy to feed into their delusions, you didn’t want them to think you were okay with what they’d done, and you weren’t sure where your relationship stood with them anymore, but like a fool you still had a soft spot for them, they’d long since carved a special spot for themselves in your heart, and because of that, you couldn’t stand watching his break in front of you.

Against your better judgement you cradle his face in your palm, he shivers and is instantly nestling into the soft touch, slumping forward to press himself even closer, singing low in his throat when your lips join, it’s hardly discernible, yet the vibration is unmistakable as he pulls you close, clutching your sides; uncontrolled moans were plucked from him with each candy-coated kiss you awarded. And all too soon were you drawing away to rest your forehead against his.

“Kitten, again.”

“Kiss me again.”

“Please?”

He made no move to initiate, only wishing, hoping, waiting, on you—for your reply. And, a purr rumbled from deep within his chest when you indulged him.

Hizashi bursts into the apartment eager to escape the cold and is greeted by his loving husband, whose hair is tousled, and in an even worse state of disarray than usual, which he finds kinda strange since it certainly hadn’t been that way previous to him leavin’ out. And stranger yet, a small saccharine smile played on the erasure hero’s lips. He looks between the two of you and internally gushes over the pretty picture you both painted; you cuddlin’ up on Shou, mussy hair...

Wait a minute.

Hizashi’s giddy squeal cuts out like a record scratch when he comes across the now empty plate.

“You guys...”

Neither of you even has the decency to look contrite.

“They were good, you’ve really outdone yourself.”

“I get sugar cravings around this time, they were amazing though.”

Compliments were the way to his heart, and was all it took for him to forget his disapproval and become starry-eyed, gasping a cute, “Really?”

“Yeah! You did awesome, Awesomeasaurus!”

“Aww, thank you, suga’pie! Though I gotta feelin’ that wasn’t the only sugar you were smackin’ on.” Mic teased, a knowing grin with too many teeth splitting across his face, and this time you do become abashed as Aizawa grinned right back like a cheshire cat.

They chuckle among themselves as the host with the most lifts you from Shouta’s lap with all the care of a mother tending to her newborn; he swoops in to steal a kiss, amused by the scandalized expression you pull. “Shouta can’t be the only one gettin’ kisses!” He nabs a couple more, stopping only when you tuck to the side to escape the barrage. “If he’s gettin’ kisses, then I’m gettin’ kisses.” He proclaimed, easing you down onto the cushions still warmed from the erasure hero’s body heat.

“Your chariot awaits, Prince of Slumberland.” A pair of keys are dropped into his hand, and his shoulder is bumped affectionately. Hizashi follows Shouta to the door, helping him into his jacket. The latter melts into the hug he’s given, and with a smack to the derrière, he’s sent off. Yamada is halfway across the foyer when he stops, looking as if he’d forgotten something; he spazzes, swinging back around, “WAIT!” He shouts, attracting the attention of Shota who was partially out the door. ���Wait, wait, wait, wait,” He jogged up to his lover with a smile, “I forgot my goodbye kiss!” Shota’s face is cradled in his palms as he kisses his hubby on the lips. “You be safe, honey butter biscuit.” The home-room teacher smiles softly, covering Hizashi’s hands with his, “I will. Promise.” The kiss is returned, equally as doting; Aizawa gently removes his lover’s hands, pressing a kiss to the knuckle of each one before returning them. He’s starting out of the door again when another call for him to stop rings out. Shōta turns, wondering what he could possibly want this time. He wants to protest as his spouse lifts you, their darling shouldn’t be manipulated right now, even if she was handled with extreme care. Hizashi makes a short walk of the distance and is already presenting you to him, his husband’s beam is even brighter than before. “Can’t leave out, sugar snap pea!” Shota leans forward, and watches as you elevate your neck for what you thought he had in store; well, he has to keep you on your toes doesn’t he? He administers the endearment lower than anticipated, bestowing you a smooch on the lips as he’d done with Hizashi. He chuckles as you gingerly touch the spot, looking up at him owlishly. Cute. It’s a sentiment Hizashi echoes, although verbally. He adds another to your forehead, leaning over you to kiss the radio star one last goodbye.

—————————————

“Alright! Let’s get some food in ya, ginger spice!” Mic exclaimed, striding into the kitchen. His baby needed some grub and a few good snugs! He sits you on the island and his hands are a whirlwind of motion as he ransacked the cabinets, grabbing all the goodies he could find. And when he turns to face you he’s supporting an armful of mixed munches, an abundant assortment of eats. His neck is folded to house a packet of candy and there’s a bag of chips clenched between his teeth. “Vish should vast ‘til Shou gets home, vwatcha fink?” His goofy appearance and impeded speech is enough to have you cracking up. His smile radiated pride as he passed along the treats, “Can ya hold these for me, Sweet?” Arms full, you’re hoisted up and the radio star throws you a wink, “I already got a snack to carry.”

Upon entering the living area he lowers you, and the array is dumped on the table, it’s surface completely engulfed and no longer visible. It’s laid out like a food fanatic’s fantasy.

“C’mon, lil mama! Come cuddle with me!” Mic dove onto the couch, arms splayed open wide, making grabby motions towards you with his hands, his legs parting in invitation.

———————————

The drone of the television did little to distract you as the blonde had hoped, you were writhing in pain; your cramps had worsened as the night had progressed, increasing in both frequency and intensity, and all he could do was you hold you. Hizashi hugs you to his chest, providing snuggles. It’s unconscious on his part, but he’s squeezing you like a human-sized stress ball. All he can focus on is you, your pain, your misery, how useless he felt.

What does he do?

What could he do?

And as his thoughts begin to spiral he doesn’t even notice his grasp constricting, tightening and tightening until you yelp. The pressure is removed instantaneously.

“Ah! Sorry, songbird. Is your tummy tender?”

You and Mic resume cuddling without further incident, his grip tightens with each pained whimper, but never reaches the same intensity as before, both in an attempt to offer comfort and to assuage his own worry. Seeing his princess in pain was seriously throwing him off his game. And him not being able to do anything about it? He buzzed with nervous energy. His knee bounced anxiously, where the hell was Shō?! Another anguished groan and Hizashi answered with his own anxious whine,

“Do-do ya need anything? Are ya—ya sure you don’t want any pain meds?”

You’d snubbed any offers of pain relievers much to their disappointment and ever growing disquiet.

Okay, he’d admit that it was kind of precious how you always refused to take medication of any kind, the same way a child might, but you wouldn’t even go for the flavored stuff! If you wouldn’t do it for your sake he wished you’d at least do it for his. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take of seeing you like this; with each passing second he grew all the more fretful and evermore fidgety.

To his immense relief you end up asking for a heating pad, they have one surprisingly, hero work comes with its aches and pains! Sure their closest was a mess and Shōta was sure to get on him about it later but it was for their darling! A trashed closet was a small price to pay for their beloved’s comfort. The voice hero was so amped up to finally be of assistance that he nearly ate carpet twice in his haste to get what you’d requested. After very gently maneuvering you, he’d shot off towards their shared bedroom at break-neck speed. A shout of, “Don’t touch that dial!” Thrown over his shoulder.

From your spot on the couch, you heard the sounds of him tearing up the room, exaggerated groans and a victorious crow at his acquirement; and when he’d returned, he presented his prize proudly, like an energetic puppy craving praise. “Who d’ya love cuddle-bug?!” If he had a tail it’d be wagging. “Thanks, snug monster. I really appreciate it...” Your eyelids and tone are weighed heavily from the pain, it left you drowsy, with slowed movements, but you manage to smile up at him, and Hizashi thrills as he’s rewarded with a smooch. He’s tickled pink, and can’t even begin to hide the blush he’s sporting, he doesn’t even try. “Aw, ya know it ain’t no thang! Anything for you, cutie.” You stretch to get your fingers on the pad, eager for relief, however the blonde keeps it out of reach, an unidentifiable emotion twisting his features, his expression an odd mix of stress and desperation, panic flickering in his eyes. “No, let me! ...Lemme help you. Where do you need it?” You’re re-situated on his lap, and he gingerly flattens the pad against your lower abdomen; the soothing heat acted as a balm, loosening your tense muscles; you sigh, leaning into the sensation, covering his hand with yours to urge him closer. “That’s it, mama. Just let me take care of you.” You can’t help the gratified moan that slips past your lips, the warmth doing wonders for you, and Hizashi could see the tension fading from your body. “Feelin’ good?” He’s given a nod in response as you relax into him. The DJ releases a relieved breath of his own, finding solace in your improved condition. His rigid posture slackens. He lays his head atop yours, heaving another weary sigh, his nerves overstrung. “Daddy’s happy to hear it, baby...”

[notaburgler]

Catch me off guard, Ok? Aizawa x Fem!Reader SFW

You worried. You worried during the day, you worried at night. You just plain worried. The lingering feeling of dread followed you no matter how many times he said he was perfectly capable of defending himself. 

“I’ve trained for years. I know how to do this. You have no reason to worry,” he would say with a lazy smile and a kiss to your forehead. 

You still worried. He was always so tired; so out of it. It started as a simple fear of losing your new husband, but after years together and the attack on the USJ, it turned into paranoia. 

You’d call him at all hours when he wasn’t home. This wasn’t an untrusting wife checking in on her husband to make sure he wasn’t cheating— you knew he’d never do that—  it was a wife scared she’d get a call from the cops and would have to prepare a funeral for the love of her life. Some might say it was pregnancy brain since you had just found out you were with child a few months back. You’d dismiss this claim stating you had feared for his safety for years. 

You really shouldn’t worry. Shouta was quick on his feet and had an awareness of his surroundings that most people didn’t. His quirk, although useful, wasn’t a quirk meant for strength and fighting, so to say. He compensated by familiarizing himself with hand to hand combat and the use of his capture weapon. But you still worried.  

He grumbled as he squatted on a rooftop watching people pass by in the darkness. It was a slow night. “Yes, dear?” He answered his buzzing phone just as he did forty-five minutes ago. 

He loved you, but your fear was a bit annoying at times. You needed rest but you’d stay up all night scared that someone would take him away from you, and it only got worse once you found out you two were going to be parents.

“Baby,” he sighed and leaned back against a wall, “I know you are worried, but I’m fine. No one's gonna hurt me.” He couldn't help but smile at your crazy babbling.  

Not many people in his life had cared so much about him and showed it so openly. “Our baby won’t grow up without a dad. I promise. Now go to sleep and I’ll be home soon.” 

He snickered at your light crying, “I’m not making fun of you babe. Please go to sleep. I’ll be home soon.” He waited for your response. 

This, the tears, were definitely the pregnancy. It just recently started. “Good night, babe.  I love you.” He hung up and went back to watching the streets. 

****

“I just think that while I’m carrying your baby inside of my body, You should be home every night,” you argued that morning as your husband tried to stay awake, resting his hand on his face to prop it up. “See!” You screamed making his eyes bulge open and his head shoot up, “You're falling asleep at the table! How am I supposed to feel ok with you out fighting villains when you can’t even stay awake at home?” You spoke with slightly trembling lips and a lump in your throat. 

“I just woke up, babe,” he reasoned, the best he could. 

“Just-“ your thought was cut off. 

“Alright.” He sat up and shook his tiredness away. “I’ll prove that, even when I’m tired and groggy and half-asleep, I can still dodge any attack coming my way.” 

You furrowed your brows in question. How did he intend to prove something like that? 

“I want you to start throwing random stuff at me. At any moment. In the shower, when I’m cooking. As I’m sitting eating breakfast. Just toss it at me as hard as you can.” He stated taking a bite of food before grabbing his scarf and heading to the door. 

“Catch me off guard, ok?” He gave you a smile and left.

You had the rest of the day to think on it. Could you get yourself to throw stuff at your husband? What if you were right and you ended up hurting him? You wouldn't be able to live with the shame of hurting your love when he wasn't paying attention. But the invitation was intriguing. You did have some pent up frustration since you got pregnant. It was his fault to begin with anyway. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

Having taken time off work, you got to prepping the baby’s room. Shouta wouldn’t let you paint because of the fumes, but he didn’t seem to be jumping to get it done either. In a few short months that room would be occupied, and Shouta was always such a busy man. 

You let out a sigh when you felt a kick. “Well don't be mad at me,” you say as you started putting the crib together. “Your dad didn’t pull out and that’s his fault.” You kept going, spending your day complaining to your baby about your frustrations. 

You’d go back and forth on the subject: how much you loved Shota to how much you resented him for being able to leave the house. Lately, it had become far too dangerous to go anywhere. With All Might in retirement, the villains were running around like caffeine-driven, unattended toddlers in a candy store. You felt safer behind those four walls with a heavily locked door between you and the world. Soon, Shouta would come home and you would feel safer still. He didn’t have patrol that night and you needed to go grocery shopping; a chore you loved doing with him. But before that, you still had a lot of stuff to do to prepare for the baby.

The cats nearly killed you on multiple occasions; swerving in and out of your legs as you walked. You wouldn't be surprised if he came home with another cat sometime soon. The two you already had were brought in on rainy days. Shouta looked to you with an uncharacteristically pouty face, batting his eyes and silently begging to let him keep them. You relented, soon loving your little fur babies. He always got upset that the cats liked you more, and you loved rubbing it in his face when the opportunities arose.

He came home to see you still trying to figure out the crib and leaned on the door frame to watch. “Are you gonna help or just make fun of me?” you asked with attitude.

He smiled, but remained still until your brows furrowed. “Just gimme a minute to change,” he said at last with a laugh. 

You huffed, gripping the wrench tight in your hand. As if possessed by some demonic force, you turned your growing body and tossed the wrench at him as he left. Instantly, watching the heavy metal object fly through the air with a whoosh, you felt the regret sink into your bones. He tilted his head just in time and the wrench flew past him and landed in the living room with a small thud. 

“See babe.” His light snicker only made the anger you felt a few moments ago boil up once more, “I can dodge anything you send my way.”

You were still mad as you marched up and down the aisles at the grocery store. He smiled, happy as a clam. You knew he thought you were so cute when you were angry. The small wobble of your gait made his heart melt. Bow legged and huffy with attitude, you grabbed a can of soup, and as he turned his back to check the rice selection, you narrowed your eyes and tossed the can as hard as you could. 

He didn’t even lift his head. He didn’t even glance your way. He simply lifted his hand and snatched the can mid air, tossing it over his shoulder and into the cart. It was impressive. Maybe you were wrong about his inability to defend in a tired state. For a moment, you relented in his claims that he was capable of defending himself; but part of you felt this exercise of throwing random items at your husband, knowing he’d catch them, was a bit… therapeutic. 

He looked up with a bag of rice and tossed it in the cart with a yawn. Maybe he was trying to trick you into thinking he was tired when in reality, he had slept all day in class. 

“Babe?” you asked.

He hummed, looking up and down the cereal aisle. 

“I think you’re trying to trick me.” You huffed with your hands on your hips and pouty lips. 

He kept looking at the boxes. This drove you up the wall.

“Babe!” you screamed.

“I’m not tricking you or lying to you. I’m just proving my point. Keep throwing things at me until you feel I’ve made my point, that any time, any where, I can dodge an attack.” He selected his cereal and put it in the cart.

Shota kissed your forehead and moved along. The rest of your shopping adventure was uneventful other than a few more attempts to catch him off guard.

At home you tried again. You threw everything you could as fast as you could while unloading the groceries, but your damn husband had reflexes like a cat. He wasn’t even sweating and you were out of breath. 

He turned around and let his shoulders fall, that same drowsy look painted all over his face. “Are you done?”

His question was met with a pout and a huff. “You're just hyper aware that I’m trying. I’m gonna get you when you least expect it.” You pointed out to him with a determined stance.

****

The next day was uneventful. You lounged around waiting for Shouta to get home. You were bored and restless. As the hours passed, you managed to keep busy with housework and working on the baby blanket you were crocheting; you hatched a plan that would easily catch him off guard. You selected a stress ball as you item of choice and as the hour hit five, you crouched into your hiding spot waiting for the familiar jingle of his key chain at the front door. 

A wicked smile crept to your normally soft face hearing that squeak of the door hinge he had promised to fix ages ago.  

When the door shut, you had to hold your breath to stop the urge to snicker. “Babe?” He yelled tossing his keys to the counter top, “Babe?” 

His footsteps made their way down the hall to your shared room and another squeak of a hinge made you bite your lip in anticipation. It was exhilarating. Hiding in wait to attack your husband, no matter how harmless the attack may be. It was fun and kept you busy.

“Babe?” He asked once more, looking inside the dark room.  

You hurled the stress ball at him as he turned to look into the bathroom. 

This was it. He was gonna get hit. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before and the phone call you had with him from earlier made you positive that he would be way too out of it to dodge this one. 

But of course, his hand swatted the ball away, and to prove his point, he used his scarf to wrap you up and draw you to him.  

His Cheshire grin made you even more angry, in a playful way, of course. He was so confident and cocky about it. “Babe, you can’t get me, even if you are hiding in the dark.” He smirked, kissing your cheek and heading back out to the living room.  

His scarf unwound and fell to the floor at your feet. You looked down at the material. He was so quick to coil it around you, gentle enough as to not hurt you, but strong enough to keep you from moving or being able to free yourself. 

You smiled. You were so lucky to have him. Your mood swings had taken hold and you had been emotional about everything. He stood by smiling and holding you, even when you’d call him a heartless monster or something even worse. It wouldn’t be but a few short minutes later that you’d curl up in his arms and demand love from him- a silent apology for your actions and words. 

He had already started the movie he promised and was in the kitchen popping the popcorn. You relaxed on the couch, sinking into the plush cushions you knew you’d need help out of later. He looked in the fridge for drinks. With how frequent your tastebuds and cravings had changed, he wasn’t sure what to get you anymore.

“Babe,” he yelled lifting his hand to grab the remote hurled at his head, “milk or tea?” He looked up to see you struggling to adjust again. 

You crossed your arms. “Tea.” 

*****

As the weeks passed, most of your attempts to get Shouta had failed. Actually, all of them failed. But this time… this time, you’d get him.

He stood at his podium speaking to his class. Your eyes scanned over each one wondering which ones were the problem children he had mentioned in his nightly rants. The spiky blonde was the kid on the news that was abducted by the villains. And the green haired one was always at the center of each villain attack. You glared at them both. They were the reason you had gone completely nuts with paranoia. 

You gripped the egg in your hand. You never wanted to hurt him, you just wanted to make sure he was safe when he was out doing his hero work.

“Alright class,” his eyes were basically closed, “Hero work is more than just saving lives and fighting villains.” Shouta always complained about how this part of class would lose them: hero laws.

As he reached for his book on his desk near the corner, the door slid open. His class glanced over expecting a surprise teacher, only to see a very tiny pregnant woman throwing something small and white at their teacher. 

A collective gasp echoed in the room, but before anyone could warn him, Shouta had already grabbed his book and held it up in front of himself; the egg splattering across the cover. 

“Babe,” he sighed, checking the damage, “really?” 

You shrugged. This time, your emotions didn’t get the best of you. This was fun. And it was possible that getting out of the house helped make you feel more calm when your plan failed.

A student spoke up, “Mr. Aizawa?” The trouble child, Midoriya shakily raised his hand, “What just happened?” The kid was a nervous wreck and you only threw an egg at his teacher.

The explanation went over with shocked faces and a few stars shining in their eyes. Most didn’t know their home room teacher was even married, let alone expecting a child. They all seemed to be engaged by the sudden arrival of his wife, and he took that as a sign that the lesson wouldn’t happen any time soon. He was bombarded with questions that he knew, if left unanswered, would distract them enough to make his lesson go unheard.

“So let me get this straight,” Kaminari leaned back in his chair playing with Ojiros tail, “you're married and expecting a baby with a super hot babe of a wife. And that babe of a wife randomly throws things at you for fun?” 

Shouta, clearly over this conversation, responded with an exasperated sigh, “She’s worried I’ll get hurt on the job. So I challenged her to throw things at me at random times and as hard as she can so that I can prove that I’m capable of defending myself even if I’m dead tired.” 

You smiled at him and kissed his cheek before leaving. You still weren’t convinced that he wouldn’t die a painful death, but all of that walking made you tired yourself. 

As you left the classroom, you heard the hollers of the students. A smile graced your lips; you had gained more people in your venture to keep your husband on edge and aware. 

“Mr. Aizawa!” A voice came barreling down the hallway making you stop to listen. 

“You all need far more training to be able to hit me with anything.” 

He sounded so cocky, it was kinda sexy. You left vowing to make sure that he was well taken care of that night. “Oh he’s so getting some when he gets home.” You laughed, carefully making your way down the staircase.

Upon arriving home, you waited. Maybe you’d give it a break for a few days. After his students’ declaration to join you in your task, he was sure to be tired. But that tiredness would serve as a good means to catch him off guard. You mulled over the thought as his keychain jingled. A heat rushed to your cheeks and a tense, tightness grew in your chest. You were anxious to see the love of your life. He hesitantly opened the door, his eyes peeking in and scanning the living room first. He was definitely on edge. His class must have really put him through the wringer if he was this paranoid. His eyes, more blood shot than usual, landed on you cross legged on the couch with your blanket on your lap. 

You tried to hold back the smile, but couldn’t muster the strength in you to do so. “Don’t worry babe, I’m not gonna try tonight. Come sit with me.” You patted your lap signaling you wanted him to place his head there so you could play with his hair. 

He was still hesitant, his thoughts clear to your knowing gaze. Was this all an act to catch him off guard? Was this just his loving wife being sweet and doting? Maybe asking you to catch him off guard wasn’t the best idea. He’d probably feel safer standing at the end of a shooting range and dodging bullets. 

His head fell into your lap and you chuckled at how tense he was. “I promise, no throwing things tonight. I’ve got sexier things in mind for you.” 

He looked up into your eyes, “All day,” he finally closed his own eyes for the first time that day. “All day students were throwing things at me. Even the teachers got involved- and not in the way you’d expect.” A long sigh lasted the duration of his speech.

You spent the night catering to your man. Letting him know how appreciative you are of him. He took care of you and watched out for you, even after dealing with a bunch of prepubescent high schoolers all day. You took the lead, letting him enjoy himself and relax. You could see the waves of stress rise from his body with every passing moment. Laying down to sleep for the night, you kissed him on the lips and smiled down. He was already asleep.

“Tomorrow, I’m gonna getcha. But tonight, sleep well.”

[mariinara]

OBSESSIVE! (Rafe Adler x Reader) ANGST

A/N: Dude... 😐 I completely forgot about this one and found it just sitting there in my asks. No wonder I felt like there was something missing lmao. I AM SO SORRY BUT HERE IT IS.

Request for anon: 'Angst 19 for Rafe? 👀'

Prompt: 19) "Can you kiss me? One last time?"

Warnings: Angsty angst 'cause I'm like this. Gets a bit physical on your end. Rafe being a wanker.

Word-count: ~3.1K

It'd been almost ten months since you and Rafe officially tied the knot and, for the first four months, everything was almost magical. He'd taken you to Paris for two weeks for your honeymoon, then a week in the Maldives because he just "felt like it". You were spoiled by him. 

He showed you his unconditional love and was unmistakably the sweetest man on planet earth, which was a completely different side of him that you'd never ever seen before.

But, everything had to come to an end, right..?

Sure, Rafe was amazing..

For the first four months only.

It seemed like when you got back to Scotland to resume your Avery search, everything you'd done to rekindle your relationship had gone to shit.

Rafe became severely obsessed with finding the treasure when you had lost all interest in doing so, being completely convinced that  the treasure was definitely not there. 

Of course, when you'd open up about how you two should probably give up on the search, he'd go absolutely ballistic. 

You knew it was hard to come to terms with the fact that you'd wasted so much time on something that wasn't there. However, while you accepted the bitter truth, Rafe couldn't. 

"Christ Almighty, Rafael.." You sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose with closed eyes, "You are impossible–"

"I don't think you understand what I'm even talking about; you never do."

You gaped at him, offended by his accusation, "Really?!"

He frowned, looking up at you through his thick lashes, waiting on your next furious statement, his arms supported on the wooden table.

You scoffed, "Have you any idea what I put on the line to fucking find this treasure!?"

"Oh, no, please do enlighten me." He sarcastically and bitterly replied.

He was being deliberately obnoxious and he knew how much of a rage trigger that was for you. 

And with a growl, you started hurling random objects at your husband– a cup, books, papers, photographs, reports, bottles, pencils, pens. Basically anything at your reach. He tried to dodge some, but inevitably, you hit him with a bottle against his head for it to shatter at the impact, making him stumble back and trip over a book while holding his bleeding forehead, groaning in pain.

"Fuck you, Adler! I put everything on the line and you know what!? I am done!" You yelled, tears brimming your eyes as you spoke. You remembered everything you'd been through for the sake of Henry Avery and his four hundred million in jewels and gold. You lost Sam, Nathan, your sanity, some of your physical abilities, and now you were losing Rafe..

He looked up at you from his sitting position, his eyes widening as you spewed those words, blood trickling down the left side of his face. He quickly got to his feet, "You're done?"

"I'm done!"

"With what!?"

"With the treasure! This place!" You spread your arms, looking around at the mundane basement that you got sick of seeing every single day. You then looked at him with narrow eyes, clouded with tears and relaying deep hurt, "I'm done with you, Rafe.." 

He stared at you for a couple of seconds before letting out a small laugh of disbelief, stepping forward to reach for you, "Honey, you don't mean that–" 

"Don't." You warned and glared at him after taking a couple of steps back, raging fires dancing in your eyes as your fists clenched. 

You didn't need to speak anymore.

He saw it in your eyes– This was the last straw.

You turned away from him, taking the stairs up to your living room.

Rafe watched you leave him for a couple of steps before he moved forward, chasing you.

"(Y/N), wait!"

You ignored him, stomping to your shared room, ready to pack your bags and turn away from him– from this "life". 

You'd made it to the room without Rafe catching up with you and just when you were about to close the door, Rafe pushed it open with all his might while you tried to push it to close, groaning in effort as you fought his heavy weight behind the door.

"(Y/N), get outta the goddamn way!"

"No! Leave me alone!"

He finally kicked the door open, pushing you out of the way. You stumbled back until the back of your knees hit the bed, forcing you to sit down on it. You let out a huff and quickly reached up to tuck your hair behind your ears, glaring at him.

As Rafe speed-walked into your shared room, you quickly got up, determined to leave. God knew how many times you warned him. How many times you forgave and forgot. How many times you were so close to walking out on him but stayed because he begged you and told you he'd change. 

He changed, alright.

For the worse.

You grabbed your bags and sprawled them on the bed, swinging the wardrobe open.

"Let's just talk about this–" He tried to reason, grabbing your wrist, which you yanked away before narrowing your eyes at him.

"Nothing to talk about, Rafe; I've already made up my mind."

"You threw a bottle to my head!" He childishly complained.

"After warning you for five months about your treatment!" You turned to him, giving him an incredulous look, pushing him back afterwards, "How many times have you yelled at me, ordered me around, told me that the effort I was making wasn't enough?! How many times have I warned you about treating me the way you do?! I told you I'd walk out that goddamned door, didn't I!?"

He pressed his lips together, unable to reply. He knew you were right. You warned him multiple times before. His insolence was the pin and your temper was the over-inflated balloon and he had popped it. 

"I did.." You stepped back from him, starting to pack your bags.

He grabbed your wrist again, and you rolled your eyes with an annoyed grunt.

"Stop..–" You yanked your wrist away again, "..Doing that." You sternly told him, your eyes narrow and sharp, full of warning that if he'd touch you again, you won't hesitate to gouge his eyes out.

A shaky, deep breath could be heard from him, "(Y/N).." His voice cracked, causing you to sigh softly and look over your shoulder at him, "Stay.." 

You looked back at your bags as you packed them, shaking your head, trying to ignore his pleading tone of voice and the desperate arch of his brows and his glossy blue eyes, "Sorry, Rafe, but I just can't anymore. You told me you'd change, but you only changed for the worse and I don't think I'm going to be able to live like that.." You quickly wiped your tears with your sleeves, sniffling.

There was a short pause, which gave you time to collect you clothes quietly, but soon, Rafe broke the silence.

"Did you even love me at all..?" 

You froze, your brows furrowing at his question. Slowly, your shoulders sagged as you turned your head slightly to the side to look at him with the corner of your eyes, your hair falling on them to hide the unspeakable amounts of frustration, "You know the answer to that, Rafe; don't be stupid."

He scoffed, "Yeah, I do.."

"Why are you asking then?"

"I know that you didn't love me at all and I was just a rebound."

Your brows shot up as you blinked repeatedly, turning around completely to face him, your hands on your hips, "Excuse me..?"

His fists clenched, his expressions completely changing to a furious one, "Face it, (L/N)! You've never truly loved me. You just never got over him."

You glared with a scoff, "Of course I never got over him! Do you know how hard it was for me‐!?"

He snorted, "You, you, you.." He muttered, "It's always about you! You've never even considered what those thoughts made me feel!"

"Rafe, get this through your head: I loved you. I cared for you so much! So God help me, I was willing to do everything for you, just like I was prepared to do anything for Nathan!"

"But you were never capable of doing what you did with Samuel with me, were you?!"

"Christ—"

"I was never able to get anything done when he was around, and when he was gone, I thought I had a chance, but did I, really!?"

"Of course not!" 

The room fell silent after that sentence, both of you staring at each other, probably silently getting into a fist-fight. Regret washed over your eyes for the shortest time but you knew that it must've been said.

You shook your head, scratching your forehead as you looked down at your feet, "I'm never doing anything with anyone like I did with Samuel. So don't you dare compare yourself to him, Rafe." Your words were venomous, spewed behind clenched teeth and confirmed with the scrunch on the bridge of your nose and the deep furrow between your eyebrows and your glassy eyes.

You turned away from him again to continue packing your bags, wanting to rip your eyes away from his upset ones, not wanting the guilt. You walked to your nightstand, pulling out your journal and handgun. 

"You're right.." Rafe started but you still didn't turn to look at him. You walked back to your suitcase and put the journal in there and were about to put the handgun too until he spoke again, "How can I compare myself to a worthless, two-bit thief like Samuel Drake?" 

You froze, letting his sentence sink into your brain, marinating slowly. It made its way to your consciousness, causing you to slowly turn to him with the coldest expression he'd ever seen on you. 

Your eyes were hazy, glazed with a certain type of newfound, ice-cold rage. The corner of your lips twitched up to draw a sinister smile on your face. 

Rafe's eyes flitted between the handgun that you had a tight grip on and then your eyes, his tough guy resolve lagging– melting away in between deep breaths that inflated his chest to make him look sure and steadfast, but, God, did he regret every word that tumbled out of his mouth at that very moment.

Because when you scoffed and shook your head at him, he knew he'd lost you for good.

Those words came out of a place of an insecurity he'd carried around all that time. 

When Sam was still alive, he saw how you two acted around each other. You were a completely different person with him and – for a person who didn't fancy PDA – you were pretty public with Sam, making sure you pecked his lips every once in a while or hugged him tightly and buried your face in his neck as you laughed together about a dumb joke he'd throw.

Rafe saw how completely and fully you belonged with Sam and as much as he loved you, it killed him.

It killed him that he didn't catch you staring at him lovingly from across the room, but instead, he'd catch himself hopelessly falling for your smile when you didn't even notice he was looking.

It killed him that you were timid of publicly displaying your affection and shied away when he'd lean over to kiss you.

It killed him that you didn't smile as brilliantly anymore.

And it killed him that he was still very much in love with you, despite all of it.

And at the very moment you finished packing, it killed him that he constantly took it out on you.

It killed him that behind those closed doors, you weren't the perfect couple everyone saw, but were instead always yelling and arguing and slamming doors and calling each other the worst of names.

He thought that after Sam was gone, he might finally have a chance with you– to mend your broken heart and fill the gaping hole that the older Drake left in you with his passing.

He thought that you'd love him for piecing your broken shards back together.

But, no, you were constantly angry.

Angry at the world for snatching away everything you've ever known and loved.

Angry at Rafe for bringing you all into this in the first place– for what he did back in Panama.

And worst of all, you were angry at yourself for using him in the hopes of healing. In the hopes of getting reassured that you were still worthy of love and attention. 

You were angry at yourself because you didn't leave with Nathan– angry that you let the person who'd become your little brother go with the most disappointed look on his face.

But, no more..

This was taking a toll on you.

And you knew it was killing Rafe as much as it killed you– to pretend like the two of you were in love and okay. For him to try to make you love the way you once did but failing miserably every time simply because you refused to let anyone sit in Samuel's place.

"Goodbye, Rafe.." You muttered, throwing your back pack on and taking your heavy duffel, quickly walking out the bedroom door and speeding along the hallway, hearing his hurried footsteps behind you as he called for you to stop.

And just when you were about to reach the front door, he stood between you and your escape, making your hand drop to your side and your hand smack against the side of your thigh as you sighed heavily, your gaze ripping away from his and flitting around to stare into anything but his face.

"Please, don't do this.." Rafe breathed out in a whisper, as if his dignity was watching, taunting him for what he was doing, "I'm sorry.." He whispered, his hands carefully touching your shoulders and feeling them tense beneath his fingers.

You looked down at your feet and nodded slowly, "I am, too.." You replied, looking up at him with a forced, thin smile, "Let's just stop pretending, alright?" You gently said, feeling his hands slipping from your shoulders, down your arms, and dropping at his sides, his head hung low in both surrender and shame, strands of his usually greased-back, chestnut hair falling forward. You shook your head, "You're not for me.." You confessed, making his eyes meet yours, and you saw how bloodshot they were and finally took notice of his dark eye bags and noticed how every tired nerve in his body made the corners of his lips lightly twitch periodically, "And I'm not for you.." 

You saw him swallow thickly and look to the side to avoid your eyes, nodding gently and chewing on the inside of his cheek, the fingers of his right hand fiddling with the wedding ring in his left one. You saw the wound on the side of his head and you felt angry at yourself again for doing such a thing– to ever draw blood from him this way even though he'd never laid a hand on you. 

You shared a moment of silence, both of you acknowledging that you were right– that this wasn't it for either of you. That this was ruining him just as much.

And he looked down at his feet, clearing the lump that formed in his throat, "Okay.." He muttered, his voice tired and broken, "Okay." He repeated, this time looking up to meet your eyes, his shoulders slacked and his posture defeated.

"Okay.." 

Rafe seemed like he wanted to say one more thing but hesitated to do so, and you didn't budge until he opened his mouth to spill it out, "Can I ask for one more thing..?" 

You pursed your lips, unsure of what he was about to ask, but nodded, nonetheless, "Sure.." 

"Can you kiss me..?" He asked in a low voice, stepping closer to you so you were only a breath away from each other, "One last time..?" 

His eyes held a particular tenderness that you'd never seen in them– at least not like this. He was so clearly vulnerable and broken and the least you could do to apologize for having him strung on false, high hopes was to grant him his wish.

So, you put down your bag and looked up at him again, closing the distance between the both of you to press your lips against his and you heard him inhaling sharply, felt him holding you close, the pads of his fingers pressing against your back and sinking into your skin because he was afraid of losing you– mortified that it was happening at that very moment. Your hands gently cupped his face, your thumbs swiping against his cheekbones as you completely molded against his larger frame. The kiss was so bittersweet and tender and you couldn't help but prolong it. 

He'd grown to be such an unhealthy addiction of yours but you needed it to stop. If he'd taken a step to escalate the kiss or deepen it, you knew it'd turn into something much more than a goodbye kiss. 

So with the first desperate tilt of his head, you hesitantly pulled away but he still had his eyes closed. His lips pursed and his head slowly drew away from yours as he swallowed thickly, and then you stood on the pads of your feet again, looking into his tearful eyes and stroking his cheekbones with your thumbs gently. 

Softly, you placed your hands on his shoulders and ran your hands along his arms, and held his hands, giving them a tight squeeze, relaying how you wished him good luck in all his endeavors.

And then, your hands let go of his and he seemed reluctant to do so, but watched as you picked up your bag and sent him one last, tight, forced smile. Like all the smiles you'd given him those past few years, and watched you open the door and leave him, standing there, all hope completely lost as you disappeared in the cold night air.

Rafe let out a shaky breath and brought his left fist up, opening it slowly to look at the wedding ring you'd pushed into his palm when you held his hands. He found himself clenching his fist again and pressing it against his quivering lips and, suddenly, his whole body grew so numb that he didn't even feel bothered by the frosty air.

Nothing felt as painful as the icy cold stab through his heart when you left him standing there, alone and lost.

Nothing.

[bee-kathony]

The Oath | Ch. 27 “I Smell Snow” 

a/n: thank you so much for reading! only good things ahead! 

Arc I | Ch. 16 | Ch. 17 | Ch. 18 | Ch. 19 | Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24 | Ch. 25 | Ch. 26 

January 17th, 2020

Madeline was oblivious to her joyous surroundings. At four months old, she was a wee thing, resting safely in her rocking carrier. Meanwhile, her parents and other family members were celebrating a victory.

“I canna believe it!” Jenny smiled and hugged Claire for the fourth time that evening. They had all gathered at Jamie and Claire’s for a celebratory dinner. The trial was over, the lab shut down, and Frank was in prison. To top it off, Jamie was Madeline’s father after all.

“Well I can,” Claire sat down on the kitchen stool. “It was a bloody messy business. Involving lawyers and a judge, but I’m glad it’s finally over.”

“Twas worth the fight,” Murtagh said as he came into the kitchen holding two bottles of red wine. “That bastard Randall will hopefully get some sense knocked into him.”

“You didn’t even meet the man,” Jamie laughed as he sliced the homemade pizzas. “He was a bastard, but how do ye even ken?”

“I ken he’s a right git, because he tried to mess wi’ the Fraser’s and anyone wi’ half a brain kens better than to do that,” Murtagh grunted and patted Jamie roughly on the back.

“I just can’t believe I lived with him for years, and almost married him,” Claire buried her face into her hands, embarrassed.

“Well, ye didna marry him,” Jamie said. “Instead, ye’ll be marryin’ me and for that I am thankful.”

Claire looked up and reached her hand across the counter, taking Jamie’s. He squeezed it and then leaned over to place a kiss on her palm.

“No kissin’ over my pizza!” Ian shouted as he came into the room carrying Kitty, who would be one in May.

Jamie released Claire’s hand and returned to the pizza, finishing cutting the last of it.

“Dinner is served! There’s pizza with all the meat ever created, one wi’ only the veggies and then a plain cheese for the picky eaters,” he waved his hands over the assortment of pizza.

“It looks delicious, Jamie. Thank you,” Claire grinned.

Ian, Jenny and Murtagh went first, picking up several slices of pizza and going to sit at the dining table. Geillis would be arriving soon with Lily, so Claire made sure to save some veggie pizza for them both.

“Does it feel a bit odd to you to be celebrating someone going to prison?” Claire asked Jamie quietly as they served pizza onto their own plates.

“Nah, Sassenach,” Jamie said. “Frank did a bad thing, and he could’ve done worse. I ken that ye feel guilty.” He raised his brows as Claire started to object that she wasn’t, but he could read her glass face. “Tis no a life sentence anyways,” he shrugged. “There’s nothin’ wrong wi’ havin’ a party to celebrate the fact that that nuisance of a man is out of our lives!”

Jamie kissed her on the lips, and lingered there for a moment, cherishing the time with his almost wife.

“Have I told you how excited I am to marry you?” Claire grinned and pecked his lips again.

“Aye, but I willna ever tire from hearin’ ye say it,” he smiled.

Twenty minutes later, Geillis and Lily walked in, shivering from the cold outside.

“Brrr!” Geillis shook her head and snowflakes fell to the ground where they immediately melted on the hardwood. “I didna check the weather, tis snowing!”

“Oh, really?” Claire glanced out through the open door to see a heavy fall of white crisp snow. “Maybe we can take Madeline out later and build a snowman!”

“Aye, wi’ a carrot for a nose,” Jamie laughed. “Come in and sit lasses,” he waved over the new guests. “We saved ye some veggie pizza if ye like.”

“Thank you, that would be great, ye old fox,” Geillis grinned and pinched Jamie’s cheek as she sat down.

Lily was a beautiful girl, someone that Claire had only talked to a few times at the hospital. She looked around nervously, before Geillis finally introduced her to them all.

“I’d like everyone to meet my girlfriend, Lily Waters,” she smiled proudly.

“Excuse me?” Jenny looked at the girl wide eyed. “Yer last name is Waters and yer first name is Lily? Did yer parents no think to spare ye from that?”

Lily laughed, a musical sound. “I get it all the time. In primary school I was teased constantly for being the white lily floating on water.”

“I think it’s a beautiful name,” Geillis kissed her cheek and it made Claire happy to see her friend in such high spirits.

They all gathered around the table, and before they dug into the cheesy pizza, Jamie raised his glass and the others did the same.

“I just want to say a few things while I have ye all here,” he smiled, clearing his throat as he looked around at all their friends and family. “It means a great deal to myself and to Claire that ye’ve stuck wi’ us through this difficult time. Whenever we needed ye, ye were always there for us, so we say thank ye and that we appreciate ye all verra much.”

Jamie looked at Claire now, tears brimming to the surface at he looked at the love of his life. “Sassenach, my own,” he said softly, and all eyes were on them. “I’ve made two oaths now, one to always be there for ye and another to tell the truth, and I just want ye to ken that I will always tell ye the truth, and I will always be there for ye. I love ye so much, Claire, I truly dinna ken what I would do w’out ye and Mads in my life. Ye’ve made me a better man, a father and soon a husband.”

Claire smiled, and wiped the tears that fell from her eyes.

“I love you too, Jamie,” was all she could say and then raised her glass and they all clinked their glasses and drank.

The pizza wouldn’t stay hot forever, so they finally started eating, groans of satisfaction echoing around the table.

“So, now that the trial is over, have ye two picked a proper date?” Jenny asked Claire.

“Yes,” Claire nodded enthusiastically. “We’ll have the wedding outside in the garden at Lallybroch of course. And we’re going to get married on June sixteenth!”

“Ah, sounds like a perfect day for a weddin’!” Jenny smiled. “I canna wait! We’ve never had a weddin’ at Lallybroch. Ian and I were marrit at the local kirk, so I can just picture how beautiful it will all look.”

“We were hopin’ that Madeline would be able to walk down the aisle, but come June it might be a bit too soon,” Jamie said, a bite of pizza in his mouth. “I suppose I can carry her,” he grinned.

“And we’d love if young Jamie would be the ring bearer and Maggie a flower girl along with Kitty,” Claire said to Ian and Jenny.

“Och, I’m sure the bairns would love that,” Ian nodded. “They’ll do it!”

Over the course of the meal, they continued to talk about wedding plans. Everyone was in high spirits, which was refreshing for a change. After a long month and a half of uncertainty for their future, the future finally looked bright.

Once all the pizza was eaten and the plates were cleared and put into the dishwasher, they all gathered in the living room.

“Yer more than welcome to stay, we have plenty of drinks, but I was wonderin’ if ye’d all like to join us in the backyard to help build Madeline her first snowman?” Jamie asked and there were smiles and nods all around.

Bundled up in their warmest coats, hats and scarves, they all ventured out into the snow. Jamie carried Madeline in his arms, only her face peeking out from the big fluffy coat she had on. The snow fell down quickly, covering their fresh snow tracks. It was magical.

Jamie couldn’t wait for the day that Madeline would be able to help him build a snowman, but for now, he settled for having his family roll up piles of snow into balls and stack them on top of one another.

“I don’t think I’ve actually ever built a snowman,” Claire said as she gathered long sticks for its arms. “My parents and I always stayed inside whenever the snow came.”

“Ye mean, ye’ve never even had a snowball fight?” Murtagh asked, to which Claire shook her head.

“Never.”

Claire bent down to roll up snow to pack onto the snowman’s head, and then out of nowhere a ball of ice cold snow hit her square in the back. She turned to see Murtagh laughing, his hands covered with the evidence.

“Murtagh! You bastard!” Claire laughed, and gathered up a ball of snow in her hands, tossing it in Murtagh’s general direction. It missed and it only made him laugh more. His mouth was open when a snowball hit him in the face.

“Take that ye clot heid,” Jenny shouted, laughing as she rolled another one and hit him in the stomach.

Jamie watched all of this from their back patio, making sure that Madeline was out of the line of fire. Snowballs flew around the yard, hitting people and some missing by an inch.

“Do ye think this is funny?” Jamie asked Madeline who was grinning, her smile toothless.

Geillis scooped up a big ball of snow and aimed it right at Claire’s head and it exploded in her bird’s nest that was her hair. She squeaked and shook her head, trying to get the snow out.

Glancing over at Jamie, Claire gathered up a little ball of snow and walked over to him.

“You’re missing out,” she said, a little breathless.

“I’m holdin’ Mads, I’m no’ missin’ out on anythin’,” he said, and kissed her. Claire wrapped her arm around his neck and slipped her hand into the back of his coat, releasing the little ball of snow.

Jamie gasped, his mouth parting against hers.

“Sassenach!” He shouted, but Claire was already running away, laughing.

“Janet!” Jamie shouted for his sister and she came over. “Will ye hold Mads? I need to make sure Claire gets what she deserves.”

“Aye, brother,” Jenny grinned and held out her hands for her niece.

Scooping up a huge snowball, Jamie aimed for Claire and hit her in the leg. She gasped, turned to him and threw one at his chest. Snow was flying in all directions, shrieks of laughter echoing around outside.

After a few more minutes of dodging and throwing, they all stopped and gathered around their half built snowman.

“Truce,” Murtagh said. “My hands are fit to freeze off!”

“Aye,” Jamie huffed. “But we canna go inside just yet until we finish Madeline’s snowman.”

Once she felt it was safe and free from flying snowballs, Jenny came back over, holding Madeline against her. Within a few minutes, they had finished the snowman. Claire went back inside to grab a carrot for the nose — it was long and very orange.

“I got two Oreos for the eyes as well,” Claire said and held out her hand, letting Jamie take them. He placed them in the eye slots and then Claire slid the nose into place. “There, the perfect snowman!”

“I wouldna say perfect,” Ian smirked. “But it’s close.”

“Do ye like it, Mads?” Jamie asked his daughter, stroking her cheek, and she smiled, waving her hands.

“I think she does!” Jenny smiled.

“Oh, let me take a picture!” Claire said, and walked over to the railing of the patio fence, setting her phone down and pressing the ten second timer. She ran back to get into place next to Jamie and posed for the photo.

The flash went off and the moment was captured. A family, celebrating the well earned peace that they had fought hard for.

“Looks great,” Claire said as she looked at her phone. “Come inside and I’ll make some hot cocoa.” Everyone cheered and went inside, making sure to knock off the snow on their shoes before entering.

++++++

After everyone had left an hour later, Claire and Jamie cleaned up from their gathering. Now they were both upstairs in Madeline’s room, laying her to sleep. As soon as her head hit the pillow, her little blue eyes shut and she was lightly snoring.

“She had a busy day,” Claire said, looking down at her beautiful daughter.

“We’ve all had a few busy days,” Jamie kissed Claire’s temple, and smoothed his hand over her head.

“And there’s nothing more I would rather do than get into a hot shower with my soon to be husband and then lie in bed making love all night long,” Claire wiggled her brows and moved her hands to cup Jamie’s bum.

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” he kissed her. “But I dinna think I can resist ye when I have ye covered in suds,” his hands drifted down to her waist.

“We better get in that shower before we do something unspeakable in front of our daughter,” Claire laughed quietly and then tugged on Jamie’s hand, pulling him to their bedroom.

She turned the shower on hot, waiting for it to heat up. Claire stepped back, looking at Jamie as she lifted her sweater off her head, letting it fall to the ground. Her fingers hooked into her pants, pulling them down and stepping out of them. Jamie watched all of this, leaning against the bathroom door.

“Are you going to shower in your clothes?” Claire asked.

“Nah,” he smirked and reached behind him, pulling his shirt off. As he pulled off his pants and briefs, Claire unhooked her bra and stepped out of her panties.

“Christ,” Jamie sighed and took a step forward. “Ye truly are the most beautiful woman, Claire. And I thank God every day for bringin’ ye to me.”

“I love you, Jamie,” Claire said, wrapping both arms loosely around his waist. “I love our life, I love our daughter, and I plan on loving you until I’m very old.”

“Until we’re both ninety-six?” He asked.

“Until we’re one hundred and twenty at least,” she smiled.

Steam filled the bathroom, and Jamie stepped into the shower, bringing Claire with him. He made sure that she stood under the water, her hair falling down wet over her shoulders.

“Turn around, Sassenach,” Jamie said and she turned until her back was to his chest. Jamie reached for the shampoo and poured it into his hands, then began to massage it into Claire’s scalp.

“Mmm,” she moaned, a low hum rumbling through her chest. “That feels wonderful.”

His strong fingers rubbed over her scalp, making sure to cover it with shampoo and then he rinsed it out, watching as the soap ran down along her body. He pumped conditioner in his hands and lathered the ends of her hair. Before turning her around, Jamie pumped more conditioner into his hands and moved his large hands over her breasts.

“Ooo,” she crooned, and pressed her body flush against his.

“Was I too rough on ye?” Jamie smirked and massaged her breasts, twisting her nipples lightly.

“I like it,” she said softly, her eyes fluttering.

Jamie flicked his fingers over her pink nipples, loving how they felt hard against his palms. Slowly, he slid one hand down her stomach, pressing firmly over her pubic bone. Claire squirmed against him, feeling his cock against her bum.

“Ye’ve the softest skin I’ve ever felt, a nighean,” Jamie said and slipped his fingers inside her.

Claire moaned and leaned her head against his chest, one arm grabbing onto his thigh.

“Let go, Sassenach,” Jamie said. “Let go, I won’t let ye down.”

Chapter 28: I’d pick you a thousand times 

[bakugou-tm]

omggg!! I really like your Domestic Bakugou scenarios can I request a scenario where Bakugou’s s/o is at home with her kids and a villain attacks them because of revenge on ground zero? She’s fighting him even if she gets bruises and suddenly he shows up all worried LIKE THE GOOD DAD HE IS💕💕

ANGST ANGST ANGST, I mean yes of course I can write this for you. Love this request, enjoy! (Ps. Bakugou’s (s/o)’s quirk will be wind like an air bender)

“Eat your breakfast now alright? I promise your father is coming home with the milk soon.” You told your two kids, placing kisses on their foreheads.

Katsuhiko made an attempt to take a few bites of his dry cereal but Katsumi refused, shoving he plate in front of her.

“I am not eating this until daddy brings back the milk!”

Letting out a groan you returned to the kitchen, grabbing two bananas for the kids to snack on until your husband returned from the store.

Both of you had woken up later than usual since it was a Saturday but neither of you minded at all, since you were both off work you took advantage of this. You probably would’ve slept in even later if your two kids hadn’t run into your room demanding breakfast.

The only problem was they were out of milk, and while Katsuhiko didn’t mind cereal without milk your stubborn eldest child simply refused. Quickly you forced your husband out of the house before he lit her hair on fire to go get some milk.

“Don’t forget Katsumi is a copy of you!”

“Shut the hell up!”

You laughed to yourself at the memory of your fuming husband driving away as you returned to the dining room. 

“Well until your father comes back, how about these?” You offered, wiggling the bananas in your hand. A sigh of relief escaped your lips when you saw your two kids face’s light up, both taking the bananas eagerly.

“Now both of you munch on those while mommy uses the restroom, alright?” 

Both children nodded in agreement, trying to see who could beat the other in un-peeling their banana as you headed upstairs to your bathroom.

Looking in the mirror you couldn’t help but laugh at your messy bed head, your (h/c) hair a wavy mess from your pillow. Of course Bakugou throwing the pillow in your face because you licked his back didn’t help either.

Running fingers to at least get the tangles out you froze when you heard the sound of a bowl smashing to the floor.

“Katumi? Katsuhiko? What happened?” You called out, expecting that one of them probably knocked it onto the floor on accident.

When you heard no response you raised an eyebrow, there would be crying from Katsuhiko at least by now, or bickering from the two on who did it.

“Kids? You’re not in trouble I promise.” You said rushing out of your bathroom and down the stairs, your kids being suspiciously quiet.

Once you reached the kitchen you blinked not seeing your kids anywhere, looking around you were ready to call for them assuming they were hiding until you heard a shout of pain from an unfamiliar male voice.

“Did you just fucking bite me-”

“Momma help! Bad guys are here!”

The shrieking sound of your daughter made your (e/c) eyes widen as you ran into the living room to see four large men dressed in black, two holding your two kid’s mouths.

“You little brat! Get his damn wife!” One of the men shouted, two men already using their quirks on you. 

The first man’s quirk appeared to be like your old high school friend Sero’s quirk, a sticky tape shot from his hands which you quickly flung your wrist in front of you to send the tape back to the man, wrapping all around him till he fell to the ground in a sticky mess.

“She has a quirk, proceed with caution!”

Narrowing your eyes to the next victim you noticed all of the metal objects in your house floating around him, of course he had a damn metal quirk.

Once he shot his arm in your direction the sharp objects came flying towards you at incredible speeds, luckily you shot your arm out in time to send a blast of wind to the objects stopping them in mid-air before you swung your arm backwards to turn the metal objects toward the man and sent them flying his way.

“Yay mommy! Kick their asses!” Katsumi shouted, causing the man holding her to punch her side to shut her up.

“Don’t you lay a finger on her!” You shouted, sending a blast of air towards the man but he dodged quickly, too quickly. He must’ve had a super speed quirk.

“You hold the two kids, I got the damn bitch.” The largest man growled, you could only assume he was the boss of the four of them.

The man grabbed Katsuhiko from him, holding both kid’s by the necks so they couldn’t get free, leaving the tall man to the two of them.

“Y’know, I did come in here with low expectations, you’re pretty good with your quirk.” The man said, chuckling lowly as he walked over to you, “I should’ve known that Ground Zero bastard would’ve married some annoying bitch.”

Narrowing your eyes you clenched your fists, “Why are you here? We haven’t done anything to you.”

The man chuckled darkly, his piercing red eyes narrowing into yours, “Oh no you three didn’t do anything to me, but that bastard of a husband sure did.”

The man lifted up his black shirt to reveal an ugly gash on his side, the burnt marks you could only assume from Katsumi.

“That fucker took down my entire staff, leaving me with these three idiots, and we lost our biggest client thanks to him.” He growled, your eyes narrowing.

“Well you probably deserved it, villains like you should be taken down.” You hissed, growing annoyed as the man kept laughing down to you.

“I like you brat, I guess that Ground Zero bastard does have good taste, not surprised he likes em fiesty.” Huffing you shot a blast of air to him, but he just moved out of the way effortlessly, “Maybe I won’t kill you right away, have a little fun before I make you watch your kids burn.”

Your (e/c) eyes widened at the threat, just the thought making your skin crawl, “You won’t lay a damn finger on my children!” You screamed firing a large blast of air towards his chest successfully until his hands began to light up in flames, making the air die down.

“You have a fire quirk… that means it’ll make my wind less effective.” You mumbled, hands beginning to shake nervously.

“Impressive, somebody paid attention in chemistry class.” The man said with a sinister smile before he sent large flames into your chest, sending you through your sliding glass doors and out into the back yard, the man stepping through the broken glass to your fallen body.

“Momma!” Katsumi screamed, while Katsuhiko began to sob. The angry daughter quickly gripped the man’s hand, using her quirk the best she could since she hadn’t trained with it much to burn the man’s hand.

“Fuck! Your quirk is manifested too you little brat?!” The man shouted causing him to let go of the girl.

“Die you fucker!” Katsumi shouted, using her father’s classic words before opening her palm in front of the man’s face and let of a small explosion, enough to blind the man temporarily.

“C’mon Katsuhiko, we gotta help momma!”

Your arms shook before you, the feeling of shards of glass in your skin wasn’t the best, but you had to protect you kids. Whimpering in pain you plucked the pieces of glass from your arms and side before shakily standing up to the man before you, “You g..gotta do more than that to keep me down.” 

The man grinned at your confident words, his hand lighting up for another blast until a small explosion was thrown his way, almost knocking him off his feet.

“What the fuck-”

Looking over you saw your daughter with a smirk on her face along with your son standing next to her with clenched fists, “Don’t you hurt our mommy shit head!”

A sense of pride rushed into you but the quirk worry washed it out once you saw the man running to them with fists lit up with flames, “If my goons can’t take you brats out then I will!”

Quickly you stood up and threw a punch foward sending a heavy blast of wind towards the man, his frame flying back into the side of your house.

“Kids get behind momma now!” You screamed, they quickly followed your orders when they noticed your serious tone.

“Hiromichi take the woman down, now!” The large man screamed to the man who was now getting up from Katsumi’s attack.

You curled your fists in a readied attack until a quick flash came before you, then followed by rapid punches to your gut then back sending causing you to shout in pain. This was the man with super speed quirk.

The man was rapidly running around the three of you in an attempt to distract you as his boss tried to pry himself from the wall, narrowing your eyes you commanded your children to duck down before you spun around and sent a wave of wind from all sides, catching the man off his balance as he fell into your fence knocking it over.

“Damn it, looks like I’m going to have to do everything myself.” The boss growled once he finally fell from the wall, walking towards the three of them.

Even with bruises covering your body, streams of blood coming from your arms and bleeding into your shirt, you still shakily stood in front of your kids, hands clenched. Nobody was going to get to your kids.

“You are powerful woman, I’ll give you that..” The man hissed, a smirk on his face as he walked to the three of you, “But someone needs to put you in your damn place.”

With that he jumped up, fists filled with flames before landing down to you firing his flames at his complete max. 

Shouting in pain you lifted your arms up in response, blasting as much air as you could up to the man to keep him from landing on you and burning your two kids. Every muscle in your body hurt when you sent as much wind as you could to hold him off, but when you saw the sinister smirk on the man’s face you knew he was far from done.

Once he came nearer his hands grasped yours stopping the wind and his flames shot from his hands sending you back into the fence before falling into the grass, your kids quickly running to your side.

Your head was spinning, slowly losing consciousness of reality. The only thing keeping you awake was the feeling of your kids trying to shake you awake.

“You can’t keep fighting forever Mrs. Bakugou, give in.” The man hissed, walking to the three of you slowly with flames ready to fire.

Shakily you used every bit of energy you had left to sit up from the ground, your arms shaking under you as you began to cough up blood before looking up to the man with weak eyes.

“I..I don’t submit to t..tyrants..” You hissed, wiping the dripping blood from your lips while attempting to stand up. 

The man only chuckled at your last fighting words, before taking his foot and stepping down on your back causing you to fall back into the ground.

“You will.”

_________________

When Bakugou pulled into the driveway, the first thing he noticed was the smoke behind his house.

Either (s/o) decided to grill something, or Katsumi was trying to use her quirk again; both options not very good since (s/o) couldn’t grill to save her life.

Grabbing the bag of milk and the other groceries he picked up since he was at the store, he blinked once he reached the door, noticing it was already open.

“Honey what did I tell you about leaving the fucking door open? Anyone can just waltz in here and-”

The ash blond’s words froze when he saw a man knocked out against the wall with sharp metal pieces holding his clothing up against it.

“Fuck.”

Dropping all of the bags the pro hero ran into the living room to see another man wrapped up in his own quirk on the floor and both of his sliding glass doors shattered, “How did they find my fucking home?” He thought to himself.

Running outside the scene that was being unfolded made his blood boil. One of Crimson Flame’s goons had both of his unconscious kids in his arms, walking them to what he assumed was the car on the side of the street. Then looking over he saw the head villain himself holding his half-unconscious wife over his shoulder.

“You fucker put her down!” Bakugou screamed running towards the large man, with wide eyes the villain turned around to the pro hero ready to fire but Bakugou had already sent a large explosion in his face, sending him and his wife flying across the back yard.

“Damn it, get Ground Zero!” Crimson Flame yelled to his goon who dropped his kids to attack the pro-hero.

The ash blond’s crimson eyes flicked over to the goon with super speed, grabbing his arm in mid run before swinging him over his body, sending the speedy villain over the fence and into the street.

“Shit..” Crimson Blood hissed, noticing his other goons unconscious inside the house he quickly snatched up your body and attempted to make a run for it.

“Oh no you fucking don’t!” Bakugou growled, blasting his way over to the man ready to light him up with another large explosion before the villain lifted your body in front of him as a shield.

“Not so fast you fucker, you wanna blast me you’re going to have to blast your precious wife too.” Crimson Blood hissed with a smirk, Bakugou growling as he slowly lowered his arm. “Y’know your wife held up for pretty long I’m impressed, it’s a shame I’ll have to kill her, she would be a nice mistress to have.”

Bakugou’s crimson eyes narrowed in fury, he grit his teeth so hard they were probably deformed by now, his fists clenched angrily, “You won’t get away with this you bastard.”

“Oh I think I already have Ground Zero, or should I call you Katsuki Bakugou.” 

The ash blond’s eyes widened when the villain called him by his proper name, concerned as to how he found out his real name and where he lived.

“Now you stand back like a good little boy, and your wife won’t get hurt-” The villain started before your leg swung as hard as you could into his crotch.

“You fucking bitch!” Crimson King shouted, dropping your body to the ground before his own body crouched forward in pain.

“K..Katsuki get him now!” You muttered in between coughs, your weak body falling back to the ground. 

Your husband waisted no time for his hands to begin sparking, a wicked smirk plastered across his face, “Now you’re dead you asshole.”

_________________

“Both of your children are fine Mr. Bakugou, as for your wife she has minor wounds but nothing critical.” The paramedic explained to the pro-hero, police authorities and medical help already showing up. 

“Thanks for the help.” Bakugou hissed as politely as he could in a situation like this, looking over to see his two children playing around with a paramedic and his wife sitting safely on the steps of their porch.

Letting out a sigh he walked over to the police official, interrupting his conversation with the detectives, “You make sure you lock that bastard up for good, no set bails for any of them.”

“We understand Mr. Bakugou, after we interrogate them all they will be locked up for life.” The officer reassured, turning to face the fuming pro-hero, as for your home luckily insurance is willing to cover everything in return for all you do to protect our city.”

The ash blond scoffed, looking back to his damaged house then back to the officer, “We aren’t staying here we have to move now, too many villains know where to find my family and I am never going to allow harm to them ever again.”

The officer nodded in understandment, after all Crimson Flames wasn’t the only villain set out for revenge on Ground Zero, “We understand, if you need any help at all the City of Musutafu and all of Japan stands by you.”

Bakugou nodded to the officer thankfully, both bowing to each other in respect before he walked off to his family.

“Daddy!” Katsumi and Katsuhiko shouted in unison, both running up to the father when they saw him walking towards them both.

“Hey kiddos, you both okay?” Bakugou asked with concerned eyes, both nodded with the same smiles they always had.

“Yeah! You missed it I kicked some bad guy butt with my quirk!” Katsumi said with wide eyes, her father smiling softly as she threw pretend punches to show him, “Y..Yeah and mommy fought all of the bad guys all by herself!” Katsuhiko said softly, Katsumi’s eyes widened with excitement.

“Oh yeah mommy was all like bam bam with her wind quirk and she knocked three bad guys out! I’m glad you came to help us with the big scary one.” Katsumi said, clearly impressed with her mother.

Bakugou looked over to his wife who was staring off into space on their steps before ruffling both of his kid’s hair, “I’m proud of you both, I knew I raised a bunch of fighters.”

Both of his kids beamed with excitement, hugging their father before going back to play with the paramedic while Bakugou walked over to his exhausted looking wife.

“How you holding up (s/o)?” 

Your (e/c) eyes flicked up to him, noticing him walk up to you before he sat down on the steps beside you.

“I..I’m okay, a bit exhausted.” You said softly, laughing bitterly as you ran a hand through your hair.

Bakugou frowned down to you, the bruises along your side that were clearly seen through your torn shirt and the gash along your cheek and arms made him grow angrier by the second, you didn’t deserve this.

“I am so sorry this happened (s/o), if I had been here none of this would’ve happened.” The ash blond said, his head ducking down as he bit his lip at the true reality, “If I hadn’t met you, you wouldn’t have to be in fucking danger like this.”

Lifting your head up your (e/c) eyes looked to his drooping figure, quickly you lifted his chin up so he could look at you.

“Hey don’t you ever think that you hear me? When I married you, when I decided to have your kids, I knew the consequences.” You said sternly, his crimson eyes looking down into your own intense ones, “I don’t care if I have to kick some bad guy’s ass everyday of my life, if that’s what it takes to be with my husband and children then I will do it.”

Bakugou smiled down to his wife, her words almost brought him to tears but he knew she needed him to be her rock more than ever right now.

“I love you so much (s/o)” Bakugou whispered into your ear, pulling you into a tight hug which you gladly accepted, wrapping your scratched up arms around his waist.

“You know your kids defended themselves half the time.” You said with a grin, Bakugou looking down to you with a proud smirk.

“Well they are Bakugou’s of course, I’m not surprised they were able to hold their own.” The ash blond said, pulling you into his side as the two of you watched your kids run around.

For once everything seemed calm, even after the horrific events that had played out just a few hours ago. You rested in his arms, feeling more safe than you ever had before.

“So what are we going to do with the house?” You asked, keeping your head resting on his chest.

“I’ll find a better house, in a private neighboorhood.” Bakugou said, rubbing your arm cautiously cause of all your wounds, “I’ll make sure the security is much better.”

Smiling you looked up to him and kissed his cheek, catching his attention, “While that all sounds wonderful, we don’t need all of that. We are the motherfucking Bakugou’s, nothing can stop us.”

The ash blond chuckled down to you, kissing your forehead before pulling you back into his chest, running his fingers through your (h/c) hair.

“The motherfucking Bakugou’s… that has a nice ring to it.”

[thatfanficstuff]

Salvation (3)

Pairing: Barton x Wife!OC

Warnings: Canon typical stuff

Series Masterlist

***

Many years later...

Alarms blared throughout the government facility signaling an evacuation. Those on the upper floors were told there was a radiation leak. In reality, the tesseract was acting up. People tended to respond more predictably to 'radiation leak' than 'alien artifact being weird', however.

Agents Raven and Clint Barton sat in their nest and watched the scientists scurry below.  Both being trained assassins, their eyes never quit moving. Never quit looking for threats. Clint had his arm looped around the railing in front of him while Raven sat with her feet swinging over the edge while she ate a peanut butter cracker.

Clint looked at her out of the side of his eye and smirked.

"What, Archer? Unlike you, I didn't get a chance to eat before Tessie started misbehaving. I'm hungry," Raven snapped.

"Far be it from me to deny you, babe," Clint said, ignoring the glare his new wife sent in his direction. In fact, it was just the weekend before they'd run off and eloped. They'd have to work the honeymoon in between missions. 

"Talk to me, Doctor," Fury's voice echoed through the room below. 

"Crap," Raven said with a sigh and sat her makeshift dinner aside. Fury wouldn't take well to her eating while there was a crisis going on but assassins learned to eat when they had the opportunity. 

Clint's eyes moved back and forth between Dr. Selvig and Fury as they discussed what had gone wrong with the tesseract.

Dr. Selvig pointed in their direction and he figured Fury had asked for their location. 

"Agent Barton, report," Fury's voice came over the radio. 

Clint stood and Raven placed a hand on his arm to stop him. Raven pulled out her radio. "Which one would that be, Fury? There's two of us now."

"Can it, Sterling. Barton, now," Fury replied.

"He does know he can't just keep calling me Sterling, right?" Raven muttered with a glance at her husband. 

He just smirked and shook his head as he headed to the rope to descend.

"You two are supposed to be keeping a close eye on things," Fury said as Clint stepped up beside him.

"I see better from a distance," he answered. 

"You sure you aren't just keeping an eye on your girlfriend instead of doing your job?" the director asked. 

Clint faced him and tilted his head. "She's my wife, Fury. But you should know that, we filed the paperwork a couple of days ago. She's pissed you called her Sterling by the way. She likes being a Barton. And no, I wasn't watching her instead of doing my job. I always do the job."

"So did you see anything that might have caused this?" 

Clint shook his head as they continued walking. "Nothing came, nothing went. It just got pissed off. If something is messing with this thing, it's not from this side."

"This side?" Fury asked.

Why did no one ever see the obvious? "It's a doorway through space, right? Doors work from both sides."

No sooner had he said the words than a surge of energy spiraled through the tesseract. A moment later, a beam of light shot out opening some sort of portal.

"Bird!" Clint yelled, summoning Raven though he was sure she was already on the move.

***

The moment power surged through the tesseract and kept going instead of stopping like before, Raven was on her feet. Reaching the rope she slid down. At the bottom, she froze and watched with wide eyes as the portal that had been opened snapped closed, throwing out a wave of energy as it did so.

A man knelt on the floor where the portal had been, several agents moved to confront him and Fury yelled at him to put down his weapon. For a moment it looked like he was considering it and then he started shooting energy beams from it at the advancing agents.

Raven immediately ducked and moved behind the heavy equipment that littered the floor. She needed to get to Clint, Fury and Dr. Selvig. Getting shot on the way wasn't going to help anyone. She wove and dodged, making her way closer and closer to her target. Her eyes went wide as bullets seemingly had no effect on him. What the hell was he?

She was almost there when the man stood in front of Clint. "You have heart," he said and pressed the end of this spear to her husband's chest. Clint's eyes found her and he gave a small shake of his head even as the energy from the spear moved up his neck and made his eyes glow.

Hot anger flooded through Raven. Clint was alive but whatever that asshole had done to him, had him putting his weapon away. She wanted nothing more than to kill this thing, whatever he was, but knew better than to attack until she knew how to defeat him.

She didn't exactly want to go flinging explosives or projectiles around as long as Tessie was in the area. She shifted her attention to Fury. Her objective now was to get him and the tesseract out of here. Hopefully Clint was still enough about himself to take care of his own ass.

Not wanting to draw the attention of their visitor, she moved closer to Fury but stayed mostly hidden. Fury's eyes darted to her and she gave him a small nod.

Fury turned to walk away with the artifact, and just as she was about to step out to cover him, the man spoke. "Please don't. I still need that."

Raven stepped out, her gun raised. "This doesn't have to get any messier," Fury said.

"Of course it does," the visitor said with a huff. "I've come too far for anything else. I am Loki, of Asgard and I am burdened with glorious purpose."

He was about to be burdened with Raven's foot up his ass if he didn't return her husband and go back to wherever the hell he came from.

"Loki?" Dr. Slevig said. "Brother of Thor?"

"We have no quarrel with your people," Fury said.

"I have a quarrel with him. What the hell did you do to my husband?" Raven said, unable to take this back and forth any longer.

Loki smirked at her. "I have given him a great gift. I have made him free."

She arched a brow and took another step closer to Fury. "Free from what, exactly?"

"Freedom. Freedom is life's great lie. Once you accept that you will know peace." He pushed the spear into Selvig's chest just as he had Clint's. When he was finished, he stepped in her direction. "Come. Join me. Join your husband at my side."

"You take one more step and I will kill you," Raven said.

He threw his head back and laughed. "You can't kill me. I am a god."

"They're stalling," Clint suddenly said walking over.  "This place is going to blow. They mean to bury us."

"Like the pharaohs of old," Fury said.

"Well, then." Loki looked at Clint and gestured in Raven's direction then Fury's. 

Clint pointed his gun at Raven and she cocked her head to the side in hurt and disbelief. At least now she knew exactly how much hold Loki had over him. Clint's eyes flashed for just a moment and he turned to fire the gun at Fury instead. 

Raven shoved Fury out of the way and took the bullet meant for him. The director went down with her when she fell. Clint took the case and headed out with Loki and Selvig.

"Sterling. Sterling!" Fury said as he sat up beside the agent.

She groaned. "The name's Barton." While she worked the bullet out of her vest and tossed it aside. Fury called Hill to warn her Clint was no longer on their side. Fury grabbed her arm and helped her to feet. They ran through the building to the chopper waiting outside.

The ground collapsed in a wave, taking everything with it as she watched. Just as she was certain it had taken Loki, and Clint with him, a truck flew out of the tunnel. "That's them," she said.

"Damn it." Fury grabbed a weapon and began to fire as did she. It only took seconds, and one perfectly timed shot, for Loki to put them out of commission. Fury grabbed her arm and pulled her from the chopper with him.

She grimaced as her ankle twisted. Her eyes followed the truck as it drove away. Fury and she exchanged a glance. Before he even said the words, she knew they were at war.

[trashunlimited]

i decided to upload the first chapter of my canon x oc story here! i have not uploaded my writing here in a while, so i’m a little nervous, but also excited to share how much better i’ve become. i’m still not the greatest or anything, but i hope it’s good enough.

i actually have an earlier version of this story on my a03, but it’s v bad...that’s why i’m redoing it.

if you want to see the next part, please let me know!

tagging: @nightshade1994, @charmingfury, @glampyra

Rick Sanchez put the finishing touches on his latest invention, a proud grin on his face. The invention happened to be one that was able to give him any breakfast food he wanted. He rubbed his hands together excitedly, knowing how much easier it would be to get breakfast tomorrow. He was a genius, an inventor, and he was making stuff like...that. But he enjoyed it, he had already made incredible things and was capable of interstellar travel far beyond just the moon and even the solar system itself. Rick decided to use his gifts for the simpler things in life too.

He picked up the invention and carried it over from the lab he had built, to the small kitchen in his apartment and set it on the counter. Rick then headed over to his bedroom, and the empty feelings returned to him. There was no one in his apartment but him, he was all alone. It’s not like anyone in the apartment complex talked to him either, as Rick never talked to them, being reclusive. It was assumed Rick was “some weird loner”, so nobody bothered him.

As much as Rick enjoyed the privacy, the feelings of loneliness burned within him. Ever since he could remember, he never had anyone but himself. Even the people who should’ve cared for him, didn’t. He had only really gotten friends when he developed his portal technology. Despite the close friends he did have, like Birdperson and Squanchy, on Earth, there was no one but him.

Rick just wanted someone, anyone, to cure his lonely feelings, but at this point, it didn't seem likely. He was already 31 years old after all, he was starting to accept he could never find the happiness he longed for. Rick had a tendency to act mean and cold, which pushed people away from him, isolating him further.

With a heavy sigh, Rick took off his lab coat and black shirt, before sitting on his bed. He really did hope the pain and misery he had dealt with for his whole life would end someday.

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

On the outskirts of the city, a young redheaded women named Juliana Kenyon, or just Julie for short, was in her own bedroom. She was sitting on the stool in front of her dresser, happily brushing her hair, something she did each night before going to bed and each morning when she woke up. When she finished, Julie looked at herself in the mirror and smiled, her long hair looking much neater now.

She sat up and then walked over to her bookshelf, picking up a romance novel, her favourite genre, and headed off to bed with it. Julie went over to the page where the bookmark was, took it out, and began reading.

Her heart seemed to fill with love and warm feelings as she read through the pages, but underneath, she felt feelings of loneliness, pain and sadness. At 27 years old, she was still waiting to find “the one” for her, and the more time passed, the worse her empty feelings grew. Ever since Julie was a little girl, she longed for love, although back then it was more childish and innocent. Her mother would read her stories featuring love, and would watch movies with it too, there was also the strong love her parents shared, it all inspired her hopeless romantic personality. As a child, she was told in her future she would be nothing more than a housewife and mother, and she accepted this wholeheartedly. She imagined her future husband as a dashing prince or a knight in shining armour. Julie was older now, and had more realistic ideas on what her future husband would be like, but those old innocent fantasies still amused her.

Julie had attempted dating in the past, but it never went well. She started to blame herself for her relationship problems, thinking it was her fault. It tugged painfully at her heart, and she felt so lonely, so sad and dejected. She wondered if she would ever find the love her heart so longed for. Loneliness was a problem for her, it had been that way for a long time. Even as a little girl, her shyness prevented her from making many friends. Julie never had any siblings either. Even with the lack of friends, brothers or sisters, she still had a few friends and her parents. But at the same time, she longed for more.

After finishing reading more of her book, Julie put it back on the bookshelf and tucked herself into bed. She held back the tears, and fell asleep, dreaming of what her true love would be like….

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

Rick came across a room with a glowing green crystal-like thing, that had what seemed to be wires hooked up to it. The crystal-like object appeared to be radiating with energy, and it made sense, this was a powerful source of fuel for the entirety of the Fyralogin Empire. Though the empire had fell into decline, it was still going on and the empress of the empire seemed to not be bothered by it, keeping a regal look wherever she went.

Rick approached the crystal-like fuel, and took a chunk out if it, instantly causing sirens to blare.

Alert! The fuel source has been tampered with! I repeat, the fuel source has been tampered with!

He wasn't bothered though, and pulled a high-tech gun from one of his pockets, anticipating what was next.

Four guards opened the door and aimed their guns at him. “Put the gun down or we'll be forced to shoot.” One said.

Rick rolled his eyes, before looking at his gun and fired quickly at all four, the shots killing each instantly. He then exited the room and was met with more guards, but he didn't mind. They started firing their bullets at him, but Rick dodged them all with ease, and managed to fire back unfazed.

He started to run off as the guards kept firing at him. Rick took out his portal gun and typed in the code for Earth, before firing the gun and making a green portal. Just before he could enter though, one guard managed to shoot him in the leg, and he tumbled right through the portal.

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

Julie was walking along the sidewalk back home, having recently left the house of a friend of hers. It was a cool night, there was a slight breeze, and in the sky she could see some stars and the pale silvery moon. There wasn't much light either, minus the streetlights and the light from some houses. The atmosphere was pleasant and serene, Julie felt quite peaceful as she walked back home.

Out of nowhere, Julie saw a green portal and was shocked and surprised. Then, a man jumped out and landed right on her! She was eventually able to get up, albeit in a bit of pain, but otherwise was fine. But she became worried when she saw the man was having trouble getting up. “Are you...alright?” She asked, concern in her voice.

“What the fuck does it look like you idiot?!” He yelled, holding onto his leg.

Julie then realized he couldn't get up, as there was a pain in his leg. “Do you….w-want help u-up?”

Rick looked up at her, confused and annoyed. “Huh? Why do y-you want to h-help me?” He found himself focused on her, entranced by her beauty. Her long red hair flowed gently, her skin was pale and white as snow, and...he liked her figure.

“Well..” Julie began, her voice indicating how shy and nervous she was talking to him. “You're hurt...aren't you?” When she spoke, Rick was snapped out of his trance.

“Uh...I m-mean..” He suddenly hissed in pain and grabbed his leg again.

“Oh dear...we should get you to a hospital.”

Rick's eyes snapped open. “Fuck no! Y-You are not t-taking me to a hospital.”

“Why not?”

“Just..” He tried to talk, but he was in too much pain.

Julie wanted to help him, and if he wouldn't go to a hospital...well...she would let him stay with her. Due to her shyness, the idea scared her, but her heart was too gentle to refuse him. Rick watched as she helped him up, and he started to walk with her, well, limp with her. “Where are you taking me?” He asked.

“My house. You won't go to a hospital, so it's the next best option. Don't worry, I have medical training, I went to nursing school after all.”

Rick just grumbled, unsure why she was doing this, but accepted it nonetheless. At least he got to be around a beautiful redhead, and he...really..really liked redheads.

----------

On the way there, Julie told him her name, Rick had introduced himself too, although more begrudgingly, as Rick Sanchez. She noticed his tone sounded annoyed, but she didn't think about it too much. He insisted on carrying the crystal-like object though, and though Julie was curious about it, she didn’t say anything.

After arriving at Julie’s house, she sat him down on her couch, and began inspecting his leg to find the source of his pain. She gasped when she saw a bullet sticking out the back of his knee, but it didn't look like a normal bullet. The bullet was jagged-looking, and oddly glowed a lime-green colour. First he came out of a portal, then he refused to go to a hospital, and now he had a strange bullet sticking out of him. This man was a mystery, and although Julie had so many questions for him, she decided to ask later, when he was in a better mood.

Julie dealt with his wound, and soon carefully extracted the bullet. She knew it should be left up to a professional, but...she did have medical training after all, she knew what she was doing. She patched up his wound and threw the bullet in the garbage. “All better?” She asked.

Rick rubbed the wound a little, and eyed her. “Yes.”

“That's good.” Julie smiled. “You should get some sleep now okay?”

“Wh-whatever.” Rick grumbled.

Julie wasn’t sure what to say, he came off quite mean, and it bothered her. But she was the type of person who believed there was good in everyone, she knew Rick had a nicer side he would show her in time, she just had to wait. Besides, Julie made a point to be kind to others, no matter how mean and nasty they treated her.

“Well...um...good night I guess.” She said, a bit sad.

Rick just turned over to his side and began to sleep. Julie was happy he seemed to be doing better, but at the same time, she wished he treated her more kindly. She kept her eyes on him momentarily, until she headed into her own room.

Julie knew harbouring a strange man in her home wasn’t the smartest idea, but again, her heart was too gentle to do otherwise. She loved helping people, even complete strangers despite her shyness. Even though Rick acted rude, her hope was he would open up and be kind to her eventually.

She finished brushing her hair and changing into her nightgown before heading off to bed. As Julie drifted off to sleep, her mind couldn’t stop thinking about him.

As for Rick, he wasn’t sure how to deal with how nice and sweet she was being to him, it was all so new and different for him. He had never met anyone like her. She was being very kind to him and while he appreciated it, a part of him said not to trust her, but another part believed she meant no harm. If she wanted to hurt him, she would’ve done it by now. Nothing seemed too odd or out of place, and Julie seemed genuine. But he wasn’t completely ready to trust her or let his guard down, not yet at least.

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

When morning arrived, Julie decided to surprise Rick with breakfast, hoping it would put him in a better mood. She thought about what to make him, unsure what to go with since she didn’t know what he liked, but decided on fluffy pancakes, pancakes were a common and beloved breakfast food after all. She hoped he liked them just as much as she did.

Rick woke up to a delicious smell, and sat up, wondering where it was coming from. That’s when he spotted Julie placing two pancakes on a plate. She looked behind her to see Rick was up, and smiled. “What...kind of topping do….you want on your….pancakes? Blueberries? Chocolate chips? Or just syrup?”

Rick was taken aback by her generosity and kindness, but gathered himself together. “Uh...I’ll j-just have some syrup.”

“Syrup it is.” She beamed. “I think...I’ll have some on mine too.” He watched as she drizzled syrup over the two pancakes she had placed on that plate, picked it up, and placed it on the coffee table in front of him. Then she also got him a fork and a knife for him, before getting her own pancakes.

He stared at the breakfast she had made for him, baffled by her kindness. He was still figuring out if he should trust her or not, but for now, Rick figured he might as well indulge in the food she made.  When he took the first bite, he was amazed by how delicious it was, and quickly ate it up. Julie watched him as she went over to sit beside him with her own pancakes, giggling a little bit. After finishing, his face was covered in syrup, making Julie laugh and prompting her to get a wet towel to clean his face. He didn’t like it very much, but didn't bother fighting, he just looked annoyed. Besides, his leg still ached a bit and so he knew it was best to not move around a lot.

‘You’re...kind of silly..” She chuckled.

“What? Do you have a problem with that?” Rick accused sharply.

Julie was surprised by how harsh he was being, and was hurt. “No...I didn’t mean it like that. I..I like your silliness…”

Rick realized that maybe he came off too strong, and saw how genuinely upset she was. He did admittedly feel bad at least, but he wasn’t ready to let his guard down with her, even if he found her very attractive. “Huh. Whatever then.” He went back to eating.

Julie pressed her lips together, wondering when she should starting questioning him. She wanted to be his friend, but she also wanted to be respectful. She wondered why he was being so rude though. “Um...I want to ask..why are being so mean to me? Did I do something wrong? If I did, I’m so sorry and I won’t do it again.”

Rick stopped eating and stared at her, gripping onto his fork. “I don’t...I don’t t-trust people easily o-okay? Jesus…” He snarled.

She felt even more hurt than before, she tried not to let his rudeness get to her, but she couldn’t stop it from bothering her. “Oh...okay then…” Rick then was surprised when he saw her start to cry, he hadn’t meant for that.

“Woah! Uh…” Now he didn’t know what to say, he never had to comfort anyone before. “Um...t-t-there’s no n-need to start c-crying, it’s not that b-big of a deal.”

“But it is!” Julie cried. ‘I’m really trying to help you, I want you to recover from your injury, but you don’t trust me and I just..” She sniffled.

Rick felt even worse, maybe had been a bit harsh with her, but his instincts had always told him not to trust people he didn’t know well enough. At the same time...he was starting to see something was different with her. Who just randomly lets a stranger into their room to treat their wounds, let them stay overnight and make them breakfast? She was being genuine in her kindness, generosity and care for him, he saw it clear as day. He knew when people were lying, but the more he thought about it, he knew she wasn’t, she was being honest with him. It made her even more intriguing to him. Rick decided maybe he should be a bit nicer to her, but he still wasn’t ready to completely let his guard down.

“It’s fine. Besides, these pancakes you made? They’re really fucking g-good, how did you know I like th-them fluffy?” He asked, his tone sounding a little more soft.

Julie started to wipe a few of her tears away, and smiled. “Lucky guess I suppose.”

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

It was at that point that Rick finally started acting nicer, and so his mood lightened. Julie was happy about this, but her questions were still bugging her. The crystal-like object was resting at the foot of couch, and Julie was wondering what it was, and why it glowed. She also wanted to know about the portal, the strange bullet, and why he was even shot in the first place. He was such a mystery to her. Thinking about the portal, she even questioned if he was actually a human, knowing their species didn’t have the ability to make any yet, but didn’t dwell on it much.

After breakfast, Julie put the plates, fork and knives in the sink before sitting back on the couch with Rick. He could tell something was bothering her. “What’s up?” He asked.

She looked away for a moment. “I’ve had some questions that have been bothering me since last night.”

“Oh...I-I see..” He said, his voice changing to a more flat, serious tone.

“First of all, how did you come out of a portal?’

Rick’s portal gun was being kept in the pocket of his lab coat, he gripped onto it, deciding whether or not to answer her question.

“Are you...okay with answering yet?” Julie wasn’t sure if now was exactly a good time. She knew he had trust issues, and maybe he needed more time with her first.

“Ah, it’s fine. Don’t worry.” Rick decided to only give her a partial answer rather than a complete one, he’d give her the complete one once he grew to trust her more. “I can create portals, makes it easier to travel from place t-to place.”

Julie was instantly curious of how he could make portals, but she would ask later. For now, she had more important questions to ask. “Really? That’s so cool!” She grinned. “My second question is, what is that crystal-like object?” As she asked this, she pointed right at it.

Again, Rick decided not to give her a complete answer yet. ‘It’s a fuel source, a very powerful one at that.”

Julie found herself already amazed by him. He could create portals and had access to a very interesting looking fuel source; the fact it was glowing and looked like crystals reminded her of something from a fantasy world. But she still had two more questions left. “Why didn’t you want to go to the hospital?”

Rick was silent for a moment, before answering. “Maybe it’s better nobody b-but you saw the bullet.”

That was odd, but she used it to segway into her final question. “Well..what’s with that strange bullet and why did someone even shoot you in the first place?”

This was a bit harder to answer, but Rick managed to give her something. “Some things are better left unsaid.”

This unnerved her, a lot. “O...Okay then..”

He laughed. “Don’t think about it okay?”

“I won’t.” Julie replied. But it still bugged her at the back of her mind...this strange mysterious man...she wondered what he was hiding from her.

some notes!

this story specifically takes place in the year 1978.

i made rick 31 years old because in the episode “rest and ricklaxation”, toxic rick says he’s been trapped in rick’s brain for 70 years. the episode came out in 2017, and 2017-70=1947/1978-1947=31.

julie is 27 years old, giving them a 4 year age gap. she would’ve been born in 1951 because 1978-27=1951.

while my version of young rick and rick as he is now are similar, they still have major differences you’ll see throughout. 

the rick/julie romance is going to be a slow burn.

i don’t care about canon no more! don’t talk to me about it cause i stopped caring! i’ve moved on! canon can go fuck itself at this point!

[sizzlingpenguincollector]

Never Backtalk Ch 1: Uh Oh

"Hey, Mom and Dad," Jim began. "Can we be excused?"

"We're running a timed experiment, and we have to go log the readings," Tim explained.

James chuckled. "Ah, I love a scientist's commitment to evenly timed data logs. Go ahead, boys."

The twins eagerly scrambled out of their seats to the front yard, where Kim recalled seeing a controlled yet open flame on her way into the house earlier.

"Well, if the boys are heading off, I'll take my leave too. I have an early shift at the hospital tomorrow," Anne said as she got up. She dropped a kiss onto Kim's hair and James' cheek before departing the room, leaving father and daughter sitting diagonally from each other at a full dining table of dishes, serving plates, and cups at various levels of full.

James dabbed at his mouth with a paper towel and announced, "Kimmie-cub, I'm placing you in charge of clean-up." He gave a jaunty little salute as he got up from the table.

Kim laughed good naturedly, but she trailed off awkwardly at James' raised eyebrow. "Wait, by myself?"

James' eyes darted side to side, unsure if Kim was joking. "Is there another Kimmie-cub to whom I could be referring?" he asked, letting a little bit of humour slide into his voice.

Kim's eyebrows furrowed. "Why just me? The tweebs aren't doing anything."

Kim turned her body to keep facing her dad as James graciously placed his own dishes in the sink. He said, "You know if we let the twins do it, our dishwasher will be converted into a superpowered house cleaning android in time for breakfast."

"But they can help!"

"Come on, Kimmie-cub. Just do the dishes."

"This is ferociously unfair, Dad!" Kim argued as she got out of her seat and more fully faced her father. "I didn't eat all the food by myself, so I shouldn't have to clean it up by myself."

James frowned. This was turning into more than a hassle than it really should have been. "By that logic, you shouldn't have helped eat the food since you didn't help make it," he pointed out. "Please just do as I ask and clean up after dinner?"

"Sure, if you had asked it. You just told me what to do." She punctuated the end of her sentence with firm hands planted on her hips and a challenging lean.

James stopped himself from rolling his eyes, but he couldn't help the heavy sigh. "Can you please clean up after dinner, Kimme-cub?"

Kim crossed her arms and turned her head away. "Well, now I don't want to since you're just saying that."

Now James was angry. "Kimberly, I don't know where this childish attitude is coming from, but I certainly don't appreciate it one iota. You may be a crime-fighting heroine out in the real world; but under my roof, you're my daughter who does her chores," he stated firmly, taking care not to raise his voice too much. "I'm going to the living room to read a book; and by the time I go to bed, those dishes better be spotless!"

"I don't think so," Kim announced before her dad could walk away. She started gathering her things as quickly as she could. "I think I'll spend some time out in the real world where people treat me with a little more respect."

She dodged out the house before James could even bring himself out of the frustrated stupor she placed him in. On her way to the street, she passed by Jim and Tim. "Dad needs help cleaning up after dinner," she threw over her shoulder. "Help him clean up his attitude while you're at it."

The twins watched as Kim walked down the road to, presumably, Ron's house. As one, they looked down at their timer, noting they had 36 minutes until the next log. They turned to each other.

"Jim, what if…"

"We turn the dishwasher into an automatic dinner-cleaning robot real quick then get back to our experiment?"

"Hicka bicka boo."

"Hoo shah!"

The sound of Anne's morning routine gently roused James from slumber the next morning. "Honey? What time is it?" he called out with a groggy voice.

"Just a little before 7, dear," came the distant-sounding reply.

James made a noncommittal noise as he stretched in bed, relishing in the latent warmth of his bedsheets and the scent of Anne's honey-lemon shampoo wafting in from the en-suite bathroom.

"How's hashbrowns and scrambled eggs for breakfast sound?" he asked as he tugged on his blue striped house robe.

"Delicious!"

James walked down to the kitchen, taking care to start the coffee maker first before grabbing a whisk for the eggs. As he set about making breakfast, he could hear the early morning sounds of his children waking up and getting ready. He frowned as he remembered last night.

"Smells good, James," Anne sing-songed as she stepped into the kitchen, preparing mugs of coffee just the way she and her husband liked them.

"Do you know if anything's wrong with Kimmie-cub?" he asked, apropos of nothing.

Anne hummed as she set the table. "She and Ron are going strong, her highway cleanup event went swimmingly, and Bonnie missed the last cheerleading practise due to the flu… So as far as I know, she's doing fabulous. Why do you ask?"

James regaled the events from last night. "And I plum don't know what to do about it," he ended as he plated the food.

Anne's frown only deepened as the story progressed. "That certainly doesn't sound like Kimmie. I'm sure she had a good reason for it, though."

"What reasons are there for unnecessary back talk and blatant disrespect for your father, Anne?" James contended.

Anne glanced at the clock hanging above the stove and was shocked into movement. "I'll look into it, dear," she said as she kissed her husband on the cheek and packed some of her breakfast to-go. "Try not to rehash the same argument over breakfast, okay? I have a peripheral nerve injury at 8:30. Love you!"

Anne's concern for rehashing the argument at breakfast were ultimately unfounded.

"It's so nice for you to join us for breakfast, Kim!" Jean said as she laid down avocados, chicken sausage, and toast in front of the teen. 'I don't think I've shared a meal with you at this table since 2001!"

Kim grinned bashfully. "Sorry about that, Mrs. Stoppable. I'll make more of an effort to come around," she promised.

"Don't listen to my wife, Kim," Gene said. "We've saved so much money since we stopped having to feed Ronald and Rufus for breakfast!"

"Hey!" "Hey!" "Hey!"

Kim laughed at Ron and Rufus' objections and the sight of Gene rubbing his sore side as Jean looked on disapprovingly. The rest of breakfast was similarly familial, and Kim wondered to herself why she didn't hang out at Ron's more often.

As Kim and Ron walked to school, the conversation eventually swung back to Kim's spat with her dad.

"And this isn't even the first time he's let the tweebs off the hook for chores!" Kim ranted. "You know, I've never worried about favourites before—my parents are usually so good at treating us all equally—but sometimes I feel like Dad just has a soft spot for the twins since they actually took up an interest in rocket science. Still, that's not a good explanation for letting them slack off on chores and then making me pick up that slack!"

"I don't know, KP," Ron worried. "There's only so much rebellion a parent can take from a kid. One day, you refuse to do the housework; and the next day, they adopt a whole other child so that they can fox all the parenting mistakes they made on you and produce a functioning member of society!" Rufus nodded along worriedly.

Kim cut her eyes at her boyfriend. "I don't think my parents plan on adopting a fourth child just to get someone to wash the dishes. And honestly, I wouldn't have minded doing all that if Dad had just asked nicely. Or offered to help himself. Either one really, without me having to point that stuff out to him."

Ron could tell how much this was really affecting his girlfriend, so he wrapped a comforting arm around her. "If it makes you feel any better, I haven't done the dishes a day in my life."

Kim laughed as she playfully pushed him away. "That's such a lie."

Ron easily slid back into place beside her. "Yeah, but it made you smile."

[carina-debayle]

Scouting of Amdapor Keep

Log date:  3/13/17

OOC Note: The text in these logs are strictly for the readers enjoyment. Anyone using the knowledge displayed within this text without the participants knowledge risks the potential of blacklisting from future communication and roleplay. Please do not meta-game!

Tags: @pain-and-pistolet @halone-from-the-otherside

Today was the day Armont and I had spent moons discussing. Well… to a degree. It was the day we would finally scout the keep just outside the Lost City of Amdapor, hoping to find clues as to what we may be getting our House into upon entry into the abandoned city. We offered Astrelle to join with her travel knowledge, and ventured to the Shroud. Eventually, we arrived at the ruined entrance to a once proud standing keep…  

Armont De'bayle brought both of his hands together with a deep breath as he looked down the road. Soon turning his attention to the others at his side, he’d nod. “Carina, Astrelle. Are you both ready?” He asked as a hand moved down to tighten the straps on his gear.

Carina De'bayle nods, “As ready as I can be, be sure you both stay on your toes. We are unsure of what lies within these ruins.”

Astrelle De'bayle looked up from her newly-bought journal and the quill laid on its currently blank pages. She gave her brother an eager nod, looking over to Carina as she speaks. “Noted,” she replies while plucking the quill into her gloved hands.

Carina De'bayle motions the group along. “From what little documents have been recovered, it apparently is said to be void touched… hopefully we can bring with us research to benefit our trip into the city. The city is by far worse, danger wise. Let us waste no more time though.” Waving a cautious hand, Carina murmured out a, "Watch yourselves…” as the group entered into the ruins, ducking under each piece of broken rubble that hung low. Once inside, she looked around at the spacious hollow Keep. "You know… I came here once before… a long long time ago, with my old company. Though, not for the same reasons.”

Astrelle De'bayle follows along, journal held tightly in one gloved hand. She glances about with an inspecting gaze and scribbles several notes quickly as they step further; no longer occupied with worrying about obstacles, she gives a soft hum, engrossed already in her examination of the area.

Armont De'bayle grunted as he watched his far smaller wife move through the small nooks with ease. Looking to his sister, he’d let out a soft sigh before sprawling over one of the fallen pillars. Once he had climbed to the tip, he’d leap over. “What brought you here last time?” He asked, looking through the area himself.

Once within the keep’s main entry, Carina De'bayle walked forward glancing over the rim of her sun-glasses toward the water below as she began to cross the bridge. “My company leader was in search for hidden Ceruleum being smuggled here apparently. While we did find some things… we left with less than what we came with. One of them losing and arm,” the woman slides her glasses back firmly onto her face before setting her hands to her hips with a nod. “I know not if this place is inhabited once more… but we will be finding out!”

“An unfortunate loss; was the goal to obtain said Ceruleum?” Astrelle asks without looking up from her note-taking, blue eyes scanning along the ruined Keep with interest.

Carina De'bayle waves a dismissive hand, seemingly not too phased by the past event, least not anymore. “You could say that. The details were rather shrouded to me, but they were involved in some rather shady business… someone having ties with their father and all. He was apparently a rather devious merchant in the Ul'Dah underground,” moving past the subject in the time being, Carina scanned around cautiously as her boots kicked up small stones beneath her.

Armont De'bayle glanced to Carina and Astrelle as he pulled off his eyepatch to look forward. Blinking a few times to readjust his sight in the dark area, his eye would glow an eerie crimson as they walked. All in all both eyes worked together, though his red one seemed to have a lift of its own, twitching ever so slightly as he looked about the keep’s hallway for any signs of life or movement. “All seems clear from what I can see.”

Carina De'bayle nods, carrying on up the stairs. She knew from her last coming there, that that peace was sure to not last.

As the three left the hallway an entered the once thriving courtyard area, they would hear the shuffles of loose stones from above. Looking up quickly to scan, Armont would reach back to touch the polearm at his back. “We are being watched.” He stated quietly to the other two. Another large brick fell from the roof above them, landing a yalm away from Astrelle and Carina, and with it, two Hippogryphs came sliding down wall in tandem behind it. Baring maws that drooled with a dark substance. Leaping towards Astrelle with its long obsidian claws out first, it would attempt to rake at Astrelle’s frame with ferocity.

Carina De'bayle takes a step back as the Hippogryphs came down the wall. Gritting her teeth some, the woman reached for the dagger at her back, her other hand going within her pack for a specialty potion. Snapping her head to the right, Carina watches as the Hippogryph swiftly moved and damaged her sister-in-law. “Astrelle!”

Astrelle De'bayle hardly had enough time to peer up from her journal, her nose having been too far into her notes, before she felt the beast’s claws rip into her side. She gave a yelp and was flung aside, managing to barely keep herself standing though she stumbled awkwardly. Instinctively, her hand went to her back but she found no carbine there - still in Thavnair, she cursed the Twelve and reached into her pocket to withdraw a small, metallic orb that pulsed a soft blue light. Her other hand pressed to the newly formed wound, blood seeping into her heavy coat but only just.

Armont De'bayle looked over to Astrelle with furrowed brow,  his eye radiating brighter in the keeps shadow. Watching as the other continued to look for a moment of opportunity, Armont would step forward with spear pointed forward, causing the voidsent to trot backwards for a moment.

Carina De'bayle tugs out a dark purple vial, smashing its contents onto the blade of her daggers as a strong sharp scent billowed up from the spillage. Poison. Dropping the rest of the broken bottle to the floor, Carina made a dash for the Hypogryph on Astrelle, slashing the blade at its face.

Astrelle De'bayle clenches her fist around the metal sphere, narrowed eyes examining its dark maw. She drew in a breath and brought her fist towards its face as the orb’s light grew brighter; if the punch collided, it would result in a drawing of the beast’s aether.

Armont De'bayle glanced over at the two who were having their own troubles with the Hippogryph. Freeing one of his hands, Armont would furrow his brow as he channeled a small sharp bolt of ice in his hand before casting it out at it.

Watching as the spearman shifted his attention to the other Hippogryph, it would leap in at him, attempting to sink its feral teeth into flesh if able.

Armont brought his spear up to catch the beast’s maw as he shouted towards the others, his own bolt causing their Hippogryph to leap a few yalms back. While they were simple voidsents, they were not to be toyed with. “Strike it down!” He grunted, fighting his own as he pushed back.

Taking another step back, Carina motioned her dagger forward, “Joseph! Strike them!” she yells out to her beast, the creature scrapping his clawed paws to the stone before charging head first with his horns in front of him.

Astrelle De'bayle sneers at the Hippogryph; as it hopped back from Armont’s strike, she threw her small orb at it - it collided and managed to blind the beast before it was yanked by an unseen force to smack back into Astrelle’s hand in time for her to move as Joseph charged.

After being momentarily stunned and then stabbed through by Joseph’s horns, the Hippogryph would let out a loud shriek as it fell on its side, its very being beginning to dissolve into a black goop. Still locked in conflict with the Voidsent that gnawed on the wooden pole of his spear, Armont would thrust back to force the beast off of him. “We have but one left!” He shouted, attempting to spear the beast once fallen back.

Stumbling onto the ground from Armonts throw, the Hippogryph would dart in between the three to dodge Armont’s strike.

Carina De'bayle turns to her husband after watching Joseph take down the other Hypogryph, Carina would rush to the man’s side, dagger in hand as she made a throw toward the center of the creatures forehead.

Astrelle De'bayle moves awkwardly; her wound giving her small pause, she watches Carina’s blade expertly fly through the air. Taking in a deep inhale, she holds out her palm and attempts to draw in the quickly dissipating energy of the first creature into the orb; it would extend to the second if the creature was felled by Carina’s blade alone.

Halting all further movements as the knife cut through flesh and bone, the Voidsent collapsed on the ground before being struck once more by Astrelles syphoned orb. As it began to take the shape of it’s previously fallen ally, a small blackened object could be seen remaining behind where both bodies once rested. “Astrelle, are you alright?” Armont asked, rushing over to his sister to look at her wounds.

Carina De'bayle glances toward the ground where the objects lay, tempted to move for them but prioritized the health of Astrelle first. “Ah… here…” she reached inside one of her packs, tugging out a dark green potion to hand over to the Elezen woman, “this should close the wound. It will more than likely still hurt, but not more than a deep bruise.”

Astrelle De'bayle catches the sphere as it zooms back into her palm. She grits her teeth but manages a smile, “A scratch, brother.” Tucking the orb–which now emitted a dim, dark aura similar to the beasts as they had dissipated–she took the potion from Carina with a grateful nod. “Thank you. Ah..” she moves to collect her fallen journal and dusts it free of dirt before applying the potion, wincing as she felt the effects.

Armont De'bayle shakes his head disapprovingly, “Infection and disease can thrive with but a single scratch Astrelle, more so in this place. I would rather treat a scratch as if a deep cut than not at all.”

“A smart woman… not all choose to apply it so directly. Would save them the suffering of the taste,” Carina snorts out, brushing off herself some before adjusting her glasses.“We should continue before it begins to get too dark. I’d rather we not be left within this place during the night,” Carina nods to her husband.

“Habit,” Astrelle chuckles out, another wince crossing her expression as she looks to Carina. “I agree; brother, we should make haste.”

Armont De'bayle looked down to one of the stones that was coated in what remained of one of the Hippogryphs. Bringing his spearhead down to tab the object, he’d sigh. “Looks to be a small fragment of a plate or bowl of sorts. Carina, do you think Guillemont would have use of these?” he asked, looking to the other remains to see a similar fragment.

Carina De'bayle glances toward the pieces once more, raising a brow, “he seems to be far more vesed in these studies than we are… I am sure he would find some use for them sure,” the woman reaches into her pouch to grab out a small jar, opening it up for Armont to place the pieces inside. Looking over to Astrelle, the Hyur asked out, “what was it you took from them? And your weapon of choice?”

Armont De'bayle placed the items in the jar as he looked Astrelle, curious to her answer.

Astrelle De'bayle looks to Carina and withdraws her orb once more. “Aetheric energy,” she replies. Already the dim glow of the monsters’ dark auras seems to be receding, a blue undertone visibly combatting through it. “It is dispelled of all impurities and then I process the energy into my ammunition– when I have it. Sadly, along with my carbine, it was left behind in Radz-at-Han.” She pockets the orb once more.

Carina De'bayle: “Very interesting…” the woman hums out, her brown eyes following the orb until it was pocketed. “You seem to have much left behind in Radz-at-Han, hopefully we will be able to retrieve it for you in time,” looking into the jar, Carina lidded the pieces within it before safely packaging it away to continue onward. Leading the party inside the main area of the Keep, Carina carefully made sure to not step over any exposed cracks in the stone, slowly glancing around to inspect the surroundings. Within the wide empty hall was mostly plant life having overgrown over the stones along with… some other interesting artifacts. Cultist items haphazardly strewn about, seemingly left behind by whomever was watching or using them before. “Huh… these items…” she enters more into the building. “They certainly aren’t as ancient as Amdapor is… but they aren’t new either,” she squatted down, rubbing a finger over a small broken shrine layered in dust and moss.

Astrelle De'bayle quickly begins to scribble a few notes in her leather-bound journal, taking note of anything that caught her eye. She hissed some as the quick motion of her arm resulted in a stinging pain from her side but otherwise continued her examination in silence.

As the group made their way into the wide open keep that seemed to be nearing the brink of collapse, a single man stepped out from one of the pillars. Walking at a slow pace with both hands clasped behind his back, his face would be concealed from the torchlight. “And here I was… nearly about to sacrifice some of our novices for a ritual. It seems I have subjects who can take their place.” He chuckled, bringing a hand up to snap his fingers as the torchlight around them faded into a purple fire. “The process will be rather quick, I assure you.” Bringing a hand out of his red robe to reveal a jagged dagger, he’d point it at the three and with it, three bolts of shadow ripped from its blade at the group.

Astrelle De'bayle was much quicker on the draw this time: not wishing to be caught off guard once more, she dropped her journal and managed to withdraw the orb from her pocket. It hummed as she held it before her and intercepted the bolt meant for her, instead now channeling through the metallic sphere and brightening the glow that emanated from it; eventually, the sphere hissed and produced a harmless cloud of aether that rose into the air.

Armont De'bayle grunted as the bolt struck his shoulder, burning what fiber it could in a purlple fire. Wincing as he brought a hand up to pat it out quickly, he’d look back to the Cultist with a glare. “Aye… Fighting with fire.” He muttered, drawing his spear and cooling his shoulder with a frost filled hand as he watched the other two while he mended his wound.

Carina De'bayle seemed to be taken off guard by the other life, stumbling up into a standing position as she backed into her group. “I… people haven’t ventured into the walls for such actions in…” her eyes looked back down toward the artifacts. They certainly weren’t ancient, but they weren’t recent either. At least… a few moons. As said man casted shadows in their direction, Carina swiftly dropped low to avoid the touch, her hands and knees to the floor.

The Culist walked forward, his knife still held tightly in hand as he laughed. “You need not resist. Simply close your eyes…” He growled out, now nearly three yalms in front of the group.

Carina De'bayle tugs out her dagger once more, gripping it tight within her grasp as she threw it once more at the man, though unsure if such an attack would work so well against someone mastered in the arts of magic.

Astrelle grimaced as she bent to pick up her journal; taking the quill from within, she ran towards the robed figure, wincing with each step as she reached him. Careful to avoid any friendly fire, she slid on her knees as she approached and made a wild slash at the man’s thigh with the end of her pointed quill.

The cultist watched the dagger fly at him as he simply engulfed it in shadow, sending it back at Carina with the same force, though aimed at her chest. As Astrelle made her attempt, she would slide but feet too short with quill in hand as the Cultist looked down with a raised brow. “Kneeling already? You give too easy…” He took in a deep breath as he brought a hand up, attempting to swallow the woman in shadows from a close distance, though he’d do the same for Armont.

Armont leaped away from the floor that began to crackle with dark energy, as as he did, a tall pillar of flame erupted from his old resting point. “By the Fury!” He shouted, his head snapping to look back at the Cultist as he reaered up to leap and attack the man. Jumping at him with spear pointed towards his chest, Armont would attempt to impale the man with his spear.

Shrieking out as said dagger came flying back in her direction, Carina toppled back onto the stone with a harsh fall, groaning out some as she rolled off to the side toward Joseph. “This might be a bit of a tough one Jo… give him all you got!” she said out to him, removing the seals that were carefully placed over his back. Sliding away from him as he grew, Joseph let out a deafening roar as he morphed into his normal full grown sized, wasting little time to trample forward and attempt to pierce the man.

Astrelle De'bayle frowned to herself at the lame attempt – truly, she felt naked without her usual weapon. Cursing the merchants of Radz-at-Han for their slow delivery of her effects, she threw her quill down in frustration and rolled forward to kick at the man’s shin, her metallic ball working to counteract the shadow attempting to engulf her. Hearing Joseph nearing and feeling the ground beneath her rumble, whether or not her hit landed, she would roll away to safety.

The man sighed just moments before the three made contact against him. “So it comes to this…” He muttered. As Armont’s spear, Joseph’s horns, and Astrelle’s leg would make contact, they would be met with an empty robe that simply tore and moved around their movements and attacks. From out of that robe was a dark ball of energy that rose to the center of the room before forming into a tall scythed voidsent. “N-nothing more now children. Only death.” It cackled with a duplicated sound to its voice as if being mirrored. Hovering down just feet from the surface, it brought one of it’s scythed arms up to swipe at the air and with it, a large arch of dark energy tore from its wake towards the four.

Widening eyes beheld the spectacle as Astrelle stumbled back onto her feet. Very much doubting that her engineered syphon could handle such energy within its small containment field, she grit her teeth and made to come up with another plan - before she was sent sprawling to the floor from the energy. She gave a loud yelp as her head connected with stone, lucky enough that her hat was padded for /some/ protection. Pushing back to her feet with some effort, she held the sphere firmly and gave the top a spin; it clicked and rotated before locking into place and producing a lightning-aspected charge to send straight for the voidsent.

Standing to her feet proper, Carina pressed her hands out before her in preparation to take the blow she knew she would be unable to avoid. Rather, Joseph swiftly turned to take place in front of his Hyur, taking the brunt of the hit with an irritated grunt as his body skidded backward, knocking Carina back onto her bottom. Pushing herself back up to her feet with a slight wobble, Carina pointed a finger out, “Joseph! Cast thundaga! Careful not to hit Armont or Astrelle!” she yelled out, the beast lowering his head as the snapping of lightening could be heard, forming at the tips of his horns.

Feeling the sting of Astrelle’s attack make contact, the Voidsent lowered down closer to her as she was the only one to make contact. “My dear child… you have maimed me.” Its softly spoke words only counted for mere moments before raising both arms in the air, attempting to engulf the four in pillars of purple flame once more. Dashing forward from the last strike he took, Armont would attempt to spear the chest of the Voidsent, aiming to keep his spear in as a conductor for the two if able.

Joseph was a hulking beast compared to the size of this voidsent, and even the creatures magic seems to feel not much but small scratches against the beasts magic-nullified hide. Not off put by the creatures attack as it brushed off him, the behemoth finished his casting, raising his head up as loud and large crack of lightning shot down in front of him, aiming to pierce the creature from afar in a row of strikes before him.

Astrelle only just managed to hop from the column of flame, tripping onto her injured side. She grunted in pain as the smell of burnt leather wafted to her nostrils; peering down, she saw the heel of her boot had been singed by the voidsent’s attack. She pushed herself back into a stand with some effort and drew in a breath before giving her sphere another rotation and flinging it at the presence – if it connected, it would produce a flame of its own, bright orange in color.

The voidsent looked to Josephs show of lightning and simply evaded accordingly to his attempts to strike him, cackling out tauntingly towards the behemoth as he did. Though his attention was pressed to the Behemoths, Astrelle sent up her own orb striking at its chest with a bright bloom of fire. Soaring down in a ball of fire and smoke, it would slam into the ground where it staggered to stand, one of its scythed arms bent and broken as it bled a deep purple out into the ground. “I am… but one. How do you think to take… all of us…” Slamming its remaining scythe into the ground, it would let out one last attempt to end the group if able as it sent out long lines of dark aether at the four.

Attempting to hide behind Joseph one more, Carina managed to get hit by some of the tendrils, it cutting through onto her shoulder as she let out a cry of pain. Squinting her eyes with furrowed brows, Carina growled out, “Joseph, bide us time to retreat then follow! You can withhold its attacks!” Carina yelled out, turning to the others, “we need to leave!”

As the Voidsent faded into the ground as his attack struck the three, Armont would fly back into one of the fallen pillars behind him. Standing up hesitantly as he looked to Carina, he’d nod. “Aye… We do not have the strength to continue this fight…” He groaned out, moving over to regroup with the others.

Caught without her metallic sphere, Astrelle was knocked onto the ground once more. She managed to roll with the hit but winced, sucking in sharply as she felt the wound at her side re-open. Clambering to her feet, she gave a wordless nod of agreement to Carina and held out her hand for the still-warm sphere to zoom back into her palm. Thankful for the protective glove, she moved to escape with the others.

Holding a hand to her bleeding shoulder, Carina made swift haste toward the exit of the main door. Not stopping to look back, Carina huffed out as she did nothing but stare forward, her heart pounding in her head as she bolted on. Back with the voidsent, Joseph bared its teeth at the creature and blocked its path until he knew the party had left. Once gone, he butted his horns forward once more before turning around to run in follow.

Astrelle follows behind the couple, cursing herself for having to leave the journal and quill behind. Newly bought. Fresh pages that had hardly met the air before and it was all for naught - only a few bells old. The few notes she’d taken while there. That, coupled with the sphere now fizzling erratically in her palm gave her cause to sneer as they moved forward to safety. “What .. /was/ that?”

“V-Voidsent… or… cultist more than… likely,” Carina huffed out tiredly as they stumbled out of the ruins back into what relative safety the Shroud on its own could provide, the creature presumably not following. “These places tend to have a history… of attracting those sort of people… the past with Amdapor and it’s White Mages and all that,” she sighs, standing up straight and cringing as she leered over to her bleeding shoulder. About to reach a bloodied hand into her pouch for a potion and some bandages, Carina is cut short as Joseph comes barrelling out in his full form, scaring the life out of the poor Hyur as she lets out a loud scream, falling back onto her backside once more. “Dammit Joseph! Couldn’t have at least given a warning or something!” she cried out, rubbing at her bottom. All these falls she was sure to feel for a few days.

Astrelle herself had readied for battle once more as she heard Carina yell, though her shoulders slumped in relief to see it was Joseph. Returning her attention briefly to the sphere in her palm, she pocketed it with a heavy sigh and moved to offer the Hyur a hand up. “Fortuitous all the same; given the amount of aether collected in such a place, I have no doubt it aided the siphon in its dispersing of energy. Otherwise..” she trails off, glancing then to Carina’s shoulder. “We are both injured. We should return posthaste to your office for medical treatment; unless you’ve more potions?”

“I always keep plenty of potions… but it would be best to return and treat ourselves properly,” Carina glances over the woman’s figure. “You left behind your notes… a shame. Do you remember to any degree the contents that were written? I can offer you some sheets when we return for you to jot down what you remember,” the woman reached into her pouch to grab out a thin glassed dark purple potion, round in appearance. Turning to Joseph, she motioned a hand to the beast as he opened up his steaming maw, Carina tossing the entirety of the potion into his mouth as it is chomped down on. After a short moment, the creature morphs down into his smaller size, Carina reaching into her pack once more to tug out two seals, slapping them onto his hide. “Let us get going…”

Astrelle watches with interest, eyes widening some as the beast shrinks down to his small, adorable size. She pulls her lips into an approving smile before lifting her shoulders. “That would be kind of you, I will attempt to recall what I can of our surroundings.” Pulling her hat from her, she beats it against her leg to free it of dust and relieve her ears of the warmth now radiating from her body.

Inspecting over to the woman, Carina offers a light smile in return, “you are probably one of the only people to not react in shock to Joseph’s form. You must be a woman who has seen many things in your turns.”

“Comparatively, the transformation of your beast was quite null in the face of that ‘Voidsent’. I was simply happy it was not charging at /me/,” Astrelle laughs in response.

“Joseph is not a beast to be reckoned with. He may be a runt, but that does not make him weak. I like to think of myself at a similar stance,” Carina lowers her gaze proudly. “Behemoths are known for their hides, being null to most types of magic. Quite a useful ally to have.”

With a single trail of blood seeping down his face from the gash on his forehead, Armont would look to the two as he prodded his forehead for the wound itself, trying to track where the blood was coming from. “Guillemont is going to have a heyday when he finds out what rests here after all those years…” he mumbled.

Carina De'bayle grumbled some, “I am sure with most of his studies into the ancient history of these cities, he will be quite pleased with these findings, yes.”

Astrelle hums gently at Carina before turning to look at Armont. “Then it would behoove us to hasten our return; if my twin has an interest, then I wish to jot down my findings with the freshest of memory.”

Carina De'bayle:“Let us get going…”

Once back at the office, we tended to our wounds and discussed our findings. It was decided we would bring the shards found to Guillemont for further studying. I have experienced a great deal in my time alive, but those touched by the void never seemed to not leave my skin crawling.

[mamoro2202]

Stolen Heritage 7

Fandom: Rurouni Kenshin

This chapter was painful. Animanical, my illustrious beta reader, might have finger calluses from hitting the 'suggestion button' so much. On one scene, I just wrote 'rage quit' and left it for two weeks.

That said: I hope you like it!

"But Kaoru-dono, is that steel?"

Her eyes softened for a moment. "It's not edged, Kenshin. Never." He let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"This one would be honored to assist."

Kenshin, and most of the Oniwabanshu, followed the women into the practice room. He seated himself at the edge of the practice area as the women finished going through a few basic warm ups, and Misao jogged to the weapons rack and picked up a short staff.

"Misao-chan? I didn't know you used a staff," Kaoru said.

Misao grinned. "Well, I can't exactly throw kunai at you! And most kempo artists train with a staff. I should be able to give you a workout," she said with a cocky grin.

"Fair enough! Let's begin," Kaoru said, raising the heavy wakizashi into the first defensive position of Kamiya Kasshin Ryu. Misao raised her staff in response, and Kenshin automatically took note of her form; while a bit unconventional, her movements were practiced and fluid. With some quick jabs aimed at Kaoru's hands and side, Misao started out by testing her opponent's defenses. Kaoru rebuffed them easily. So Misao stepped forward, into Kaoru's circle, with one swing attempting to push her wakizashi aside, following through with a strike at Kaoru's hip with the other end of her staff. Kaoru was too quick and too clever for the ploy, and parried both. They broke apart and circled a little. Clearly a bit frustrated, Misao stepped in, this time with a shoulder strike, which Kaoru easily parried, then used as momentum for her own offense. Misao was pressed back, as she blocked a barrage of head and shoulder attacks, until finally, she parried too high and Kaoru managed to slip in under her arms, landing a hit to Misao's side. Kenshin was pleased; Kaoru was handling the match skillfully.

"Point," Kenshin called. The women acknowledged him and stepped apart.

Misao's next attack was a forward stab. Again Kaoru blocked it, dodging backward to avoid the incoming back end of the staff, then circled the end of Misao's weapon with another side slash. Misao evaded the hit, but was forced to block Kaoru's attacks until again, she parried too high and allowed Kaoru to slip inside her defenses. Misao couldn't be taken the same way twice, though, managing to parrying Kaoru's strike by dropping down and back, but then she was overbalanced, and was forced onto her back. Misao tensed to leap away but before she could, Kaoru had her blade at her throat.

"Point." Kenshin shifted in his seat; Misao was not as good with a staff as she was with kempo, certainly.

Kaoru offered Misao a hand up and the women once again took opposing positions. Misao face was focused, her ki happy and bright. "You're pretty good, Kaoru!"

Kaoru gave her a fierce grin. "I've practiced with swords since I was five years old, Misao. I'd better be good."

At that, Misao darted in, attempting to use her weapon's greater range to land a blow. This time Kaoru did not attempt to slip under her guard, choosing instead to deliver a powerful blow to the staff itself, right above Misao's grip. Misao hissed at the sting the vibration caused, and Kenshin winced in sympathy. That must have hurt.

Kaoru grimaced. "I'm sorry, Misao, that was dirty."

"It's alright; dirty fighting is the best kind!" Misao shook out her hands.

Kenshin frowned internally. Misao was omnitsu, and as such, her strengths were stealth, acrobatic ability, and cleverness. Her primary weapon was a ranged one. Now Misao was being forced into a direction confrontation using her secondary weapon. Within these restraints, Kaoru far outclassed her and so this exercise was of minimal benefit. Yes, Kaoru's form was good and she was compensating well for the new weapon, but she was not being pushed.

Aoshi leaned towards Kenshin, his voice quiet. "This accomplishes nothing."

Kenshin nodded his agreement. "Stop!"

The women broke apart, and Aoshi rose. "Misao, your skills are not well-employed in a match such as this."

"Awww, and it was just getting fun, too!" Misao pouted up at him, one hip cocked to the side, and Aoshi's eyes softened in amusement. She has always been good for him. Misao grinned and walked to the weapons rack, with Aoshi following close behind. Misao returned her practice staff to it's place.

"Kamiya-san." Aoshi chose two practice short swords and quietly walked to the center of the room. Kenshin caught his breath, his spine straightening and muscles tensing. He felt a dozen objections clawing at his throat, yet he couldn't speak. He would not shame his wife or Aoshi in such a manner, but that knowledge did nothing to ease the coiled tension in his body.

Kaoru raised her new weapon into a defensive position.

"No," Aoshi said. "Attack."

"But- But Kamiya Kasshin Ryu-"

"Contains offensive movements. If you wish to fight at your husband's side, you must also attack." They stared at each other across their separation. "Come," Aoshi said.

Kaoru's jaw hardened. "Yes," she answered, and then she closed the distance and struck. Aoshi parried easily and pushed, hard. She flew back several feet, twisting in the air to land on her feet, knees bent to cushion the impact. She landed well, Kenshin noted, keeping her weapon and her focus despite the throw. Her mouth pressed into a thin line and then she attacked again, her movements growing faster and more fluid as the room echoed with the sound of their strikes. Aoshi's attacks grew increasingly rapid but he was handling the match with care, Kenshin noted with appreciation, while still pushing Kaoru to use more challenging and varied forms. She also maintaining, her natural advantages, drawing power from her broader hips and keeping her center low and balanced.

The two disengaged for a moment, and Aoshi shifted into a stance that Kenshin knew; it was a trap. Aoshi was calmly setting Kaoru up for a harsh strike to the ribs. Kaoru ran forward, stepping to the left as Aoshi intended, and Kenshin's breath caught in his throat. It is only sparring; Aoshi will pull the blow, it will be fine... It didn't stop him from curling his fingers into fists.

Then Kaoru shifted quickly, blocking the true blow and ducking under the feint, elbowing Aoshi in the side while she did so. Both Kenshin and Aoshi blinked in surprise as Kaoru spun away, and a flicker of a smile passed over Aoshi's lips before they engaged again. Kenshin felt a smile tug at his own mouth; Kaoru was doing very well.

They continued until Kaoru's arms began to shake. "Good," Aoshi called, and relaxed out of his form. He gave Kaoru a polite bow.

Kaoru returned it, her face set with a properly solemn expression. "Thank you for the match, Aoshi-san. I look forward to doing it again."

Aoshi replaced his practice sword 3at the far edge of the room. "Kaoru-san, you seem entirely capable of wielding steel… I am glad." He gave her another bow, and then walked out of the room.

Kenshin waited until Aoshi was gone, then uncurled himself from the wall and warily approached his wife. "Kaoru-dono?"

Kaoru was red-faced, covered in sweat, and transparently exhausted, but when she focused on him, an enormous smile dawned over her face like sunrise in the mountains. "Kenshin! Did you see that? That was the best match I've ever had!" And there in front of Misao and half of the Owniwabanshu, she threw her arms around Kenshin's shoulders and squeezed.

"I'm going to do some cool downs and take a bath, okay? Then I want you to tell me everything I did wrong!" And with that exuberant happiness, she jumped away from him to do just that.

Kenshin blinked. "Oro…"

An hour and a half later Kenshin found himself back in the practice room, guiding his wife through some small corrections in her form to compensate for the weight of her new weapon.

.

.

.

Supper was just as raucous as lunch, followed by singing and drinking games... and after a large quantity of sake, Okina started dancing. Kenshin pressed a hand over his eyes and drained his cup.

This one will never be able to forget this image…

"He always does this," Aoshi said.

Kenshin sighed. "It's no wonder you meditate so often – clearing one's mind of such things would be helpful." Aoshi's eyes were amused as he politely refilled Kenshin's sake, then quietly took a sip of his own tea.

Kaoru returned from nursing Kenji, smiled at Kenshin, and giving Okina a wide berth, seated herself with the women. Kenshin's eyes followed her with barely disguised longing; he would far rather be curled around his wife than sitting here being irreparably traumatized by Okina's bare legs.

Kuro sat forward. "Do you have enough provisions for your trip?"

"This one had planned to go shopping in the morning."

"Cold weather gear?"

Kenshin sighed. "Some. This one has camped in the cold many times, but this one is concerned for Kaoru-dono."

Shiro filled Kuro's cup, grinning. "Don't worry about Kaoru-san; I'm certain that Misao will loan her as many things as you can carry."

Kenshin smiled back. "She is an enthusiastic woman, so she is."

"I was more concerned about your food supplies. Are you planning a one day or a two day walk?" Shiro asked.

"We will just have to see, so we will. This one is uncertain of the terrain and quality of the road. Kaoru-dono is unused to hard travel, that she is."

Kuro offered a tiny bow. "We'd be pleased to outfit you with some tasty supplies, Kamiya-san." Kenshin felt a warmth in his chest, and bowed more deeply.

"You are truly too kind, Shiro-dono, Kuro-dono, that you are. We are in your debt."

Later, Kenshin excused himself as soon as was reasonably polite, with a pleasant buzzing in his ears from the sake. Kaoru joined him, linking her arm with his and cuddling into his side once they were out of sight of the party. Kenshin was particularly interested in her soft curves as they pressed against his arm.

.

.

.

He closed the shoji firmly behind them, and unobtrusively flipped the latch. His wife was undressing for bed, moonlight playing over her body, casting silver and shadows in enticing patterns. As Kaoru began to re-dress, Kenshin prowled forward. He slid his arms around her waist and tried to pull her into a kiss, but before he managed to capture her lips, she slipped a hand up and he found himself kissing her fingers instead.

He pulled back and blinked at her in surprise.

Her smile was wry. "Kenshin, you're trying to use kissing-"

"Oro! This one-"

"To avoid discussing what's going to happen!"

"Kaoru…" He wanted to groan like a petulant child, and just barely avoided it. Instead, he made sweet, innocent eyes at her and kneaded her back, pulling her more firmly against him. "This one is much more interested in what we could be doing now…"

She pursed her lips, attempting to look stern, and firmly pushed him away. "I spread some blankets behind the screen." She nodded at the cozy little nest behind her, her voice gentle steel. "Get dressed for bed."

Kenshin sighed; he'd had a very different intention for that lovely pile of blankets. Kaoru seated herself and started brushing out her hair. Kenshin sat next to her as she finished braiding, watching her, taking comfort in the familiar scene: Kaoru, dressed for bed, weaving her lovely hair into a neat queue, as she had nearly every night since their marriage. She tied off her braid, and looked him over appraisingly, then she waved her hairbrush. Kenshin took it from her and placed it next to their impromptu little bed. He then pulled her towards him and twisted, ending comfortably on his back with Kaoru curled into his side. Shifting and wiggling slightly, she settled in her customary spot against his shoulder.

She began tracing little patterns over his chest. "What do you think we'll find?"

He tugged at his bangs for a moment and then lay quiet for a moment, resting with his wife. "This one has thought very little about my life before being adopted by Shishou… as far as this one was aware, there was only ever a small handful of people who knew anything about it."

Kaoru hummed. "That definitely reduces the odds of it being some type of trap, then."

"Aa. No one in the Ishin Shishi knew anything of my childhood; this one knows little of it. There is only a very remote possibility that someone bearing a grudge against me could have found such information."

Kaoru rested her chin on his chest and looked up at him. "Well, that's good, right? It's probably exactly what it seems like, then." She shifted up onto an elbow. "…Kenshin, if Manami-san is your aunt, then you could have more family there." Her eyes shone in the dim light. "Hiko-san is… Hiko-san, he took you in, and I'm grateful – he raised you. But… family… even just a place that you're tied to – it's important. I want that for you, Kenshin."

"Kaoru, I have family here." He squeezed her lightly for emphasis, and this time, she let him kiss her.

He gently rolled her onto her back and covered her body with his own, his hips cradled against hers, and kissed her as she wrapped silky thighs over his hips, crossing her ankles behind him and lightly trapping him in place. Gratefully, he let go of his thoughts and focused instead on scented skin and soft curves.

Slow, drugging kisses eventually gave way to soft, wet kisses down her neck and collar bones. He kneaded her breasts – gently, always gently – then nibbled down the taut skin of her belly, teasing her with lingering kisses on the hollow of her hips. Kaoru's breathing became rapid, and her hands in his hair were growing very impatient, tugging and mussing.

He smiled, teasing her just a little longer, then pressed his smiling mouth against her sweet, wet flesh. Kaoru pressed a hand against her mouth to muffle herself, but wonderfully broken versions of his name still filled the air. Kenshin thanked any god listening that their little boy was such a sound sleeper, then intensified his efforts, concentrating only on what he could do to wring more and more interesting sounds from her lips.

The muscles in her hips and thighs were twitching under his hands, and he savored the faint edge of her nails against his scalp, the clean tangy taste of her on his tongue. He loved being able to bring her such pleasure, was enamored with the changing pitch of her moans, with the glistening sheen of a light sweat on her skin. She began to pant heavily, her hips writhing, one hand clawing at the blankets and another in his hair, keeping him pressed firmly into her flesh. He shivered, excited by her rising arousal. Sliding two fingers inside her, he added a quick rhythm of pumping fingers to the siege on her senses.

"Kenshin…" She gasped for air around the syllables of his name, and it was beautiful. "Just a little more. Almost there…" He carefully curled his fingers within her, searching for the little spot on her walls that would- Ah, there she goes… She arched and quivered, pushing into his mouth, and he reveled in the feeling of Kaoru falling apart under his hands and mouth. Once she had relaxed, he sat up, wiping his face clean with the back of his hand and taking a few calming breaths.

He crawled up and leaned over her, bracing his hands on either side of her face; she was flushed, sweat sticking her hair to her temples, her mouth red and swollen. He watched her face, focused on her while he pushed inside her, then paused for a moment to appreciate the exquisite way her body welcomed him.

Kaoru smiled up at him, her pupils dilated wide, and slid a hand to his nape to pull him down into a kiss. He moved over her, inside her, in long, sweet motions, her legs around his hips, her mouth soft against his own. She stroked small hands across his shoulder and back, meeting his rhythm, panting into his mouth, and it just felt so good, so right, so much like home...

She came; Kenshin gasped as she shuddered all around him, her hips suddenly bucking upward, pressing hard against him, wonderful internal muscles squeezing and fluttering and milking his cock, and it was just enough- He pulled away to release on the soft skin of her belly, spasming against her, shivering with his own climax.

Panting like he'd run a race, he toppled onto the blankets bedside her, and pulled her next to him, firmly into the warmth of his body. He pressed a kiss to the top of her dark head and floated comfortably in the after affects of bliss. She lay with him quietly for a few moments, then sat up to grope for a towel.

After Kaoru had fallen asleep, Kenshin lay for a long while, cuddled between her and their son, one hand behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

"… family… even just a place that you're tied to – it's important. I want that for you, Kenshin." Kaoru had been raised by her father, in her familial home; she had lived in the same city all of her life. It was only natural that she would regard the importance of blood family that way. Perhaps Kaoru could not understand, but Kenshin had never been more complete than he was now. He would go to his birth village, and see what there was to be seen, but nearly thirty years after he had left… what could there be there, that he did not already have?

.

.

.

The next day was full of preparations and packing and preparing Kenji for his first ever separation from his parents. Kenshin sorted through the packed supplies several times, continuously thinning the pile down to a reasonable amount, repeatedly returning items that Misao kept quietly slipping into their packs.

"Kamiya! You should take an extra bedroll!"

"This one does not think such a thing will be necessary, that I don't."

"But what if one gets wet?!"

"This one will merely ensure that it does not do so, that I will."

"..."

"Kamiya, Kaoru will need more tabi than that!"

"Misao-dono, why do you believe Kaoru-dono will need more than four pairs of tabi?"

"...What if one gets wet?" Kenshin smiled guilelessly, and quietly bullied Misao into accepting the return of the extra pair. She's only trying to help… many of the items she has loaned Kaoru are both practical and valuable and this one is grateful...

The travel rations that Kuro and Shiro prepared were both practical and delicious-looking, and Kenshin carefully packed them away with pleasure; he couldn't remember ever being better provisioned.

Okina somehow located some relevant maps, and so during lunch, he, Aoshi, and Kenshin looked them over, drinking good tea and discussing the area. By the time Okina tucked the maps away, Kenshin knew the exact location of the sister villages, the general layout of the area, and had a basic understanding of the terrain.

Late that night, Kenshin quietly sorted through their supplies one last time, packing them away snugly for ease of access and even distribution of weight. Kaoru was still nursing their son, cooing to the boy and petting his bright hair. She had been nursing him for much longer than usual, and Kenshin smiled gently, knowing that on some level she would miss that closeness.

She had tried to explain to the little boy that they would be gone overnight, that she would not be there to put him to bed for several days, and surprisingly, Kenji had seemed to express understanding. She had given Okon and Omasu exhaustive advice about caring for her son, and the women had listened patiently and smiled with understanding eyes.

Kenshin looked up again and noted that Kenji's small body was completely lax in sleep. Kaoru sighed and carefully laid him on the futon, tucking the covers around him.

"Kaoru-dono, this one is finished packing and we should also go to bed. The morning will come very early, so it will."

Kaoru brushed a hand against Kenji's cheek. "Yes, it will." She looked up at him, her eyes shining in the dark room. "Come to bed, Kenshin."